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#no one look at the lol gun too closely
akkivee · 11 days
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i started cooking this on stream yesterday so i’m attempting to make it more coherent lol but there’s a point of comparison between bat and dh i think was established with the manga dts where dh was reminiscing on their past bc of a shared ghost story, and one where bat helped their ghost lady move on to the next life
ghosts was the common theme (hence the connectivity lol) but i think that was our hint that dh would be handling their past and bat is always trying to move forward. but with these dts, where everyone is kinda flipping the script on their origin points, i wonder if we’re going to see dh collectively moving forward and bat taking a moment to deal with their pasts and by that i mean kuukou taking a moment to stop that boy has been going nonstop towards his goal no matter what the cost be it his body or—
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potpiehead · 1 year
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this is no claires ear piercing
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dollaches · 2 months
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— my wait is you
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♡ closeted!abby anderson x fem!reader
synopsis: after deciding to stop seeing abby completely due to her inability to commit, she drops everything to make it up to you
a/n: from a req… im so sorry this sucks so bad & i did not proofread
warnings: closeted abby duh, owen gets his own tw, internalized homophobia i guess (?), mentions of crying, improper communication, secret relationships, kissing, sorta established relationship, whiney and needy abby, pussydrunk abs lol, dry humping (THE CROWD GOES WILD), face sitting, abby is a messy eater and a MUNCH, make up sex, mentions of strap usage, cursing, a little bit of angst in the beginning if you squint and turn your head away a little bit, fluff, cliffhanger idk if i’ll make a pt2, and pet names
wc: 3.8k
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The bustle from all the people in the dining hall made it impossible to think and in some ways that was comforting, yet everyone's presence was a bit too overwhelming at the moment. 
You dropped a half finished sandwich into the trash, having no appetite after what you endured today. As you walk back towards your assigned room, the memories of Abby’s betrayal come flooding back. 
 It didn’t take long for you to realize that she wanted to live a double life, one in which she was with Owen and another where she was with you.But you were not going to give her the pleasure of having both, not when it’s fucking with your head as badly as it is.
Today you had been assigned patrol with Abby, who you just so happened to be avoiding like the plague as of late. It was easier to avoid her, as you knew if she were to look at you with her kind eyes, you would give in to her every request. 
Fate seemed to be against you, as you had the daunting task of facing her for almost an entire day. You brushed off every attempt she made to speak with you, your gun held tightly in your hands as the two of you left the base. 
The gentle “hey” that fell from her lips was only met with silence, your eyes focused on the path ahead. She knew you were pissed— knew she fucked up badly enough to ruin everything the two of you had built together. But she just didn’t know how to apologize to you for being unable to be openly out with you. 
Tension between the two of you became so thick during your journey that you could’ve cut it with a knife, but you refused to budge. 
Even when she tried to soothe you a bit by offering to stop by the old desolate book store the two of you had found, she was met with silence before you simply shook your head and looked away from her. 
It was eating away at every inch of her being, her hands twitching at her sides as she yearns to get her hands on you. She misses being close enough to breathe in your sweet scent, misses the way your soft hands felt against her skin— she missed everything. 
To you, she was simply being a pain and rubbing it in your face that she had chosen to be with Owen rather than you. So during the entire trip, you remained silent and didn’t allow Abby any comfort for once. She eventually went quiet, her jaw clenched tightly and her eyes narrowing at your form as the two of you got back to base. 
And even now as you walked towards the door to your room, you felt anger bubbling within your tummy due to the fall out between the two of you. Just as your hand touched the cool metal of the knob, you felt two warm hands rest on your waist. 
Your brows furrowed out of confusion, although you knew who was touching you just by the weight of their hands. 
Spinning to face her, you push Abby’s hands away and let a deep frown settle onto your lips. You offer her no words, simply taking her in as she stands before you. 
She looks tired, frustration etched into her features as she gazes down at you.
“What the fuck was all that today?” she questions, her anger showing despite the quietness of her voice. She’s keeping it down as per usual, never wanting anyone to even notice the two of you interacting beyond work duties.
“You haven’t let me speak to you for weeks. I miss you, okay? I get that you’re upset with me but don’t give me the silent treatment, just tell me I fucked up and let’s move on” she pleads, her words so rushed from nerves that you barely comprehend what she has said. 
Her words only make you want to scream at her, to make a huge scene just to show her how much she has hurt you. But you push it down, keeping your voice just as low as hers is.
“I’m not going to ‘move on’ from you dating some asshole that you don’t even like. I’m tired of you using me to satisfy your own needs so find some other girl who is willing to be your dirty little secret” you mutter bitterly, glancing down to notice the way her hands were flexing as she opened them only to clench them into fists once more. 
“I don’t want to see you anymore, Abby. And don’t even think about knocking on my door when he can’t give you what you want.” you seethe, turning your back on her and entering your room without giving her time to completely process your words before you slam the door in her face. 
Abby is left wide eyed, her plush lips parted as she is left alone with your harsh words. She goes to knock on your door out of instinct but pauses, her brows furrowing as irritation and desperation make an ugly mix within her. She lowers her hand, now moving with a determined stride towards Owen’s room. 
With little to console you after the altercation, you had made the prompt decision to bury your face into your pillow and let your thoughts fade away as you fell into a dreamless sleep. It was comfortable, being so detached from everything around you even if it was only for a little while. 
However, any solace you had found was ripped from your hands as a heavy knock sounds on the door. A low groan sounds throughout your small room as you blindly move your hand onto the side table to try and find the lamp. 
Once the light switches on, another loud knock can be heard, the door shaking from the force. The second knock makes you rush towards the door, unsure of what to expect but believing it to be urgent. 
That is until you swing open the door, the dimly lit hallway showing you a very broken down Abby. Her braid has become messy and loose, her eyes red rimmed and glassy. She looks like a kicked puppy, so lost and scared. 
“I broke up with him, okay? It’s done, I swear” she blurts out breathlessly, not even giving you the chance to speak. The information takes a while to set in, the cogs in your mind slowly turning as you realize what she had said. 
It was over. She was yours and only yours now. 
It’s hard to speak as you try to process everything, leaving Abby with an aching silence. Tears begin to roll down her rosy cheeks, a pitiful whine emitting from her. 
“I know you’re probably still mad but please let me stay. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just— I can’t be alone right now” she whispers weakly, taking a step closer to you so that she is standing inside your room. 
She sounds absolutely pathetic and you can’t help but relish in this moment, her pain making up for all you had gone through these last few weeks. You let her come inside, simply shutting your door as a sign that she can stay for the night. 
But you’re toying with her, knowing exactly where all these pent up emotions are coming from. You don’t let her get too close, as you want to see just what she wants from you. 
“Thank you, thank you” she breathes, relieved to at least be welcome in your room once more. Her shaky hand pushes back her hair to soothe herself, the ache in her body worsening as she realizes you’re wearing the smallest pair of pajama shorts she has ever seen. 
It’s enough to leave her feeling dizzy, her eyes flickering back up to meet your own. “You look absolutely perfect” she mumbles, no tears to be found as she feels countless weeks worth of energy beginning to boil over. 
Her words make you feel all warm inside, as you know she is all yours now. You need her just as much as she needs you but you are unwilling to confess that just yet. 
So you give her a soft hum of acknowledgment at her words, simply turning away and mindlessly rearranging your bed, purposely bending over so your shorts ride up just enough for her to see your panties. 
Abby is falling apart in your hands, her eyes lingering on your ass far too long. She had spent these last few weeks picturing you just like this, her fingers buried in her cunt as she got off to the thought of you. 
But now here you were in all your glory, and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. With a few quick steps, she is behind you, your back pressing against her chest as she pins you down against the bed with ease. 
“What the fuck” you huff, your brows furrowing as you try to squirm out of her grasp but to no avail. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, can’t you see that?” she whispers, her arms being wrapped around you so tight, scared that you would leave her at any moment. 
Seconds after she speaks, her hips begin rocking against you, desperately humping your ass like a woman who had been deprived of something holy for so long. The warmth of her body combined with her little pleas makes you let out a soft moan, breathy and barely there but just enough to let Abby know that you are enjoying this. 
“Jesus, Abs. M’ not going anywhere, calm down” you mutter, your words broken up by how harshly she is rubbing up against you, her movements displaying just how needy she is. Her hold on you doesn’t budge, simply focusing on your scent and how warm you feel against her. 
She shakes her head feverishly, her breath warm against the back of your neck. “Need to touch you, missed you so much” she breathes frantically, as if she were in some sort of frenzy that could only be soothed by touching you. 
The way she rubs up against you has your core aching, desperate for relief that only Abby could give you. “Missed you too, fuck” you huff, trying to be the one in power but failing miserably. Even in her desperate state, Abby finds a way to keep you dumb for her, your mind only filled with thoughts of her giving you the relief you have been craving for so long. 
Your confession blows up Abby’s ego a massive amount, her nerves dissipating since she knew the misery she felt without you was shared between the two of you. 
“Yeah, baby? You have a funny way of showing it. You’ve been such a little brat, avoiding me and not letting me touch you at all” she grunts, the rocking of her hips faltering as her mind is flooded with a need to be closely connected with you. 
“M’ sorry” you huff, still a little frustrated by her previous actions which meant you were unable to be empathetic towards her. Abby pays you no mind as she stops grinding against you completely, helping you get back into an upright position by pulling you by your arms. 
“Can you get on the bed for me, sweet girl?” she asks hopefully, unsure if you would even agree to what she wanted to do. Much to her surprise, you nod your head slightly and crawl onto your bed so you can make yourself comfortable. 
Your chest heaves with anticipation, watching Abby’s every move to try and figure out what she wanted to do. After taking off her boots and setting them off to the side, she gets on the bed, her large frame being rather intimidating as she spreads your legs open so that she can settle between them. 
She’s laying on her tummy, nuzzling her cheek against your inner thigh affectionately as she keeps her gaze focused on you. “Can I taste you, angel? Been thinking about your cunt so much, need to see her again” she mutters, sounding borderline delirious just from the idea of being able to lap at you like a woman starved. 
“Mmph, just a little” you say after a moment of thinking, wanting to remind her that being able to touch you like this was a privilege that only you could give her. A pleased grin appears on her lips as you give her permission, nodding her head eagerly. 
“Thank you, thank you” she breathes out, pressing a few open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs that leave you aching for more. “Gonna make you feel so good, need to make you come” she hums as she backs up, hooking her fingers under your little shorts along with your panties in one swift movement. 
You feel so exposed to her, finding the feeling only adds to your arousal. Abby takes a moment to consider her options before she decides on exactly how she wants to do this. 
She uses her thumb to rub soothing circles on your hips, her expression warm and comforting. “Need you to sit on my face, doll. I wanna feel all of you, want to taste all of you. Is that okay?” she questions in a pleading manner, as if she would burst into tears if you were to deny her. 
The request makes your heartbeat a little faster, knowing that Abby can barely contain herself whenever she is eating you out. But after weeks of going without her attention, you’re just as needy as she is. 
“It’s okay with me, just wanna feel good” you whine, unable to mask your excitement now that she was soothing you completely. She takes notice of how eager you are and decides to make it her personal mission to make you come until she’s decided you’ve had enough. 
“Sweet thing, so eager” she coos, giving your hip a gentle pat as a sign for you to start switching positions. You are quick to follow her command, moving out of the way so she can lay down flat on her back. She waits for you to move, glancing at you only to find that you’ve yanked off your t-shirt, the sight of you alone pulling a porn worthy moan from her. 
“That’s a good girl” she praises, so pleased that you were completely bare while she remained clothed, as it only reinforced the control she felt she had over you. Shakily, you begin to move up the bed so that you can get into the proper placement. 
With your hands holding onto the wall in front of you for stability, you manage to straddle Abby’s head so that she can stare directly up at your heat. “So fucking pretty” she practically pants as she sees you in all your glory, her strong hands grasping your hips with a bruising grip. 
It’s not as if you minded, as whenever she decided to show off her strength you found yourself completely enamored. “You sure this is okay, Abs? Don’t wanna hurt you…” you trail off slightly, not wanting her to be unable to breathe or anything like that. 
“Baby, if I die with you sitting on my face, I will die doing what I love” she quips in a playful manner, wanting to help you relax. Her words make you smile in the slightest bit, the tension that coursed through your body now melting away. 
“Shut up” you mutter playfully, her teasing remark making your tummy flutter. “As you wish” she states quickly, not giving any explanation before she pulls your hips down onto her face. 
It’s a bit of a shock to feel her gentle licks against your pussy, a low gasp being pulled from you as warmth spreads throughout your lower half. She’s being messy on purpose, now licking long stripes up and down your cunt, pausing for a moment to messily kisses your clit before moving her tongue lower. 
The sensation is enough to make you tremble, your hands weakly grasping at the wall as you try to stay upright. “Jus’ like that” you moan out, your folds so slick that Abby can’t stop herself from moaning due to the complete mess you’re making on her. 
Your statement entices her to work harder, now tonguing as your slit to test the waters. The position is almost too perfect, her nose bumping against your clit while she obscenely slurps up all your arousal. 
With the pleasure being doubled, you find yourself unable to keep your eyes open any longer, now squeezing them shut as you let ecstasy course through your being. Broken up moans leave your lips as you practically hump her face, needing her nose to rub up against your clit just a little more. 
There are no complaints from Abby, as it let her know that you were feeling good. She dips her tongue into your entrance, fucking her tongue so deep into you that you swear it’s almost better than when she fucks you open on her thick fingers. 
“Jesus Christ, s’ too much” you say after a string of pitiful mewls, your hips stuttering against her as the pleasure begins to reach its peak. She couldn’t care less, as she needed her fix of you or she might actually lose her mind. 
Your scent consumes her whole being, you taste heavy on her tongue. It’s enough to make her ravenous, now using her firm grip on your hips to guide your movements so that you don’t have to do it by yourself. Her tongue continues to stretch you open, fucking you at a rhythmic pace that keeps pace with the way she is rocking your hips against her. 
In a complete daze, you grope your tits, trying to pretend it’s her hands instead just to maximize the goodness of the feeling. And it truly works, as all the pleasure combines to make something completely blinding and overpowering. 
It’s everything you’ve been craving since you began avoiding her and now it’s all yours. 
“Abs, gonna come, you gotta slow down” you whine, your lungs burning from the amount of effort it takes to breathe in properly. Your pleas don’t discourage her at all, as all she chooses to focus on is that you are about to get off just from her tongue. 
So she keeps her firm pace, burying her face into your cunt as if it were a sanctuary that only belonged to her. It’s all too much, the way you can feel her spit coating your folds and you can only imagine how soaked the lower half of her face must be. 
You can only whine as she refuses to yield and so you find yourself rubbing teasing circles against your hardened buds, trying to match her timing. And within a moment or two, you let out an incomprehensible string of words, moaning so loud that you knew others on the base will be talking about the two of you tomorrow.
You couldn’t care less, too focused on the way the band that had tightened in your tummy had finally snapped and left you feeling euphoric. Your cunt clenches around Abby’s tongue as you come, a low whine leaving her as she feels your gummy walls tighten up even further. 
You ride it out, practically bouncing against her since it was hard to move properly even with her help. But it all becomes overwhelming so quickly that you raise your hips the best you can, Abby’s hold on you fading away since she knew you needed time to recover. 
After carefully changing your position, you lay down beside her, your breathing still being labored and you can’t help but smile at how much Abby is panting alongside you. The stickiness between your thighs doesn’t bother you much, much more focused on the girl who was lying beside you. 
You turn onto your side, facing her enough so that you can give her a sweet kiss. You can still taste yourself on hee tongue, shivers coursing through your form as she eagerly kisses you back. It’s lazy and messy, both of you being so tired out. So you let her tongue glide against yours, moaning against her lips before she gently bites your lower lip. 
She pulls away after she gets a small whine from you, a grin spreading onto her features. She is completely different from how she came into your room earlier, her eyes dazed and her whole being practically radiating warmth. You were glad to see the change, as after all that the two of you had been through, you both deserved some relief. 
“You’re a mess” you state playfully, noticing that her nose and mouth were completely coated with your slick. “Good” she quips, swiping her thumb against her chin to gather up some of your leftover juices and pushing the digit into her mouth to suck it clean. 
The sight leaves you feeling flustered yet strangely proud that she finds the taste of you to be so pleasing. You press your naked body against her, needing some comfort after everything that went down today. 
She is quick to wrap you up in her arms, not even caring if you make a mess on her clothes. “You did so good, baby. You’re all mine” she hums soothingly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you hide your face against her chest. 
You don’t reply, simply wanting to let her words sink in and make you feel safe once more. Abby would never force you to speak, especially when she can tell you’re so sensitive and tired. It’s as if the two of you are having your first time together once more, but this time had much more being for both of you. 
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as she mindlessly traces shapes along your back to keep you at ease. But she just can’t help herself, not when she has been aching to make you come multiple times. 
“You still got my strap, angel? I think you can take a little more, hm?” she questions, her voice low and soft. The suggestion has your eyes going wide, always amazed by her stamina. You were more than eager to comply, raising your head so you can nod quickly. 
“Gonna fuck you nice and stupid so you can sleep well” she states calmly, as if it were the most natural statement ever. With the way it rolls off her tongue with ease, you can almost convince yourself that it is normal. 
A lazy grin crosses your features as you take in the idea of her burying her thick strap into your cunt. “S’ still in the closet— if you wanna…” you whisper timidly, suddenly feeling shy under her persistent gaze. 
“Of course I want to, sweet girl. Tonight is all about you, I swear” she states smoothly, giving you a quick kiss as she begins to get up to search for exactly what she needs. 
Although you’re in for a long night, you couldn’t be more excited to be sharing it with her. 
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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Uninvited, Unexpected.
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a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.
this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)
ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged
wc: 3,1K
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader
my contribution to the @glitterypirateduck ghost challenge. idc if i wrote it much earlier lol.
You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.
A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.
The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.
Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.
Someone's knocking on your door.
Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.
In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."
Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.
The knocking persists.
The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.
Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"
Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—
Simon.
Simon?
Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.
"What the hell?"
It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.
"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.
Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."
That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.
Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.
Two bottles, then.
You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.
He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."
Small mercies.
Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.
You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.
His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."
His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.
You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.
Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.
"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."
The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.
"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.
"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.
His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.
"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.
"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.
You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.
Relentless.
"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."
The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.
It comes undone.
"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.
You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.
"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.
Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.
" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.
The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.
The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.
The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.
"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.
"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.
You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.
A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"
The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.
Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)
"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.
He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.
The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.
"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.
"Yes. I know."
The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.
"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.
"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.
"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."
He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—
Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.
"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."
There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.
Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.
The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—
Snap.
The structure that holds everything in place collapses.
A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.
Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.
A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.
Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.
Gentle but unyielding.
There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.
"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."
Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.
A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.
"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."
His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.
"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."
He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.
Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.
Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.
Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.
"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.
He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.
As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.
Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.
His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.
"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."
Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.
He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.
Gone.
Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)
He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.
From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.
(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)
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starlostseungmin · 6 months
Text
ice on whiskey ─── hwang hyunjin.
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✰ pairing : assassin/hitman!hyunjin x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).
✰ genre : mafia au, nsfw+18, strangers to lovers, kinda slow burn
✰ warnings : lots of profanity, guns, violence, character deaths, kidnapping, rampage, reader almost drowned, felix got injured, mentions of drugs and other weapons, black market, crimes such as arson, murder and illegal businesses, blood, kissing, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.receiving), cunnilingus, breast play, hyunjin stroking himself (slightly mentioned)... MDNI semi-proofread. lmk if i missed one :'>
✰ word count : 25k (the longest so far)
✰ notes : wooyoung from ateez made a cameo in here lol and i’m not expecting this to get a lot of interactions but if you do read this, DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading so i’ll know what you think of this long-ass fic. please separate fiction from reality. inspired by — freeze and give me your tmi by skz, too sweet by hozier, a few scenes from the k-drama queen of tears, vincenzo and 365 days trilogy
✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @starseungs , @sleepyleejii
masterlist | taglist
members’ characters and roles.
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Hwang Hyunjin. 
His name echoes as the sounds of crackling flame and a huge—thick black smoke escalate to the sky. He stood on the rooftop across from the building that was burning down as the fire trucks and cops aligned on the road beneath. 
With a zippo in his hand—he closed and opened the lid, making a small flame that caused chaos. A click sound is heard after he closes the lid, shoving it inside his black coat’s pocket. A smirk is plastered on his face upon hearing his name being cursed by the family of a notoriously corrupt politician. He doesn’t need to take a glance at who it was—he already recognizes those names being listed on his murder list. Too bad, the body burned along with the building. 
“Good job, Hyunjin,” He heard his boss say on his earpiece while removing the black gloves as he exited the building. 
It is his job to murder whoever it is when his family gets provoked. A role that he is trained to do so. 
“Get back home, we have another target,” Hyunjin stopped his car across the street as he took a few looks from the burning building. Some employees were weeping, firefighters were trying to calm the fire, the medical team was on search and the officers were investigating. 
His name will never be revealed in the media. Who knows? He’s part of the Mafia. 
“Fuckers,” He said under his breath driving away from the crime scene. 
Arson may be one of his crimes, yet that’s not the only way to do his job. The next target is set on another date. 
It was another usual night at the hotel when the sound of a gunshot was heard across the room as a body fell on the floor with a loud thud. Hyunjin stood there, a gun in his hand—eyes filled with no remorse and other emotion. He stared at the body while hiding his weapon in his belt underneath his black coat then a sigh of relaxation escaped his lips as his footsteps echoed on the marble floor—taking his way out leaving the man he just killed covered with blood. 
He always didn’t understand why Chan sent him alone to negotiate when Seungmin should be the one doing this instead. But the latter is too busy to read and win cases. Hyunjin could’ve taken a signal from Seungmin after failing to negotiate with the bastard. 
“Dispose of him.” He said to the two bodyguards waiting for him outside. 
He continued to walk by the hall as he headed towards the elevator—pressing the ground floor’s button. The door closed slowly as he leaned back on the handle while fixing his suit through the reflection. It was a waste to wear such expensive clothing only to be assigned to kill someone. He would have screamed and cried if there was blood that managed to paint his suit, even though it wouldn’t be visible since he’s wearing all black from top to toe. Still, he treasures this kind of clothing as it is the representation of his identification. 
He couldn’t say no to the boss. 
Frustrated as he was, it was getting late. The elevator reached the ground floor and his phone kept ringing inside his chest pocket in his blazer. Another urgent call. He’s been getting one ever since his morning started, probably another errand to run for Chan. His footsteps echoed once again on the marble floor through the main hall of the hotel as he made his way toward the entrance where his car was waiting.  It looked like nothing happened when he had the guts to act normal and conservative with his job but he got used to it.
A man bowed at him while giving him the keys as he took his phone out—answering that damn call. 
“Did you kill him?” A voice from the other line asked. 
“Yes,” Hyunjin answered as he opened the car’s door and sat comfortably. “I’m heading back now,” 
“Okay, be quick, we have another one on the loose,” said the man on the phone. Hyunjin didn’t respond and went to drive away. 
It is supposed to be a day off which he wanted to spend in his guesthouse near the beach on that one island. But damn Bang Chan and his list of names for murders, Hyunjin couldn’t even take the private jet to their island because for sure, he has a feeling that Chan has another mission for him or something urgent to make a meeting out of it. 
He pushed the accelerator to full speed as he drove on the highway making it like his racing track. His engine roared, earning everyone’s attention. Some cursed the shit out of him, some were amazed by his violation of traffic laws, Hyunjin felt defeated—he didn’t even get to take a sip of whiskey while trying to negotiate with that man at the hotel. He was irritated, to begin with. Imagine your day off became a business day just because someone wants to get murdered. 
It’s valid.  
His hands tightened their grip on the wheel, maintaining the speed of his Mercedes Benz as it traveled through the road by the cliff where you could see the ocean and the city lights. The thought of taking some days off just to walk by the shore would be a luxury in his crucial job. He doesn’t even remember when was the last time he had a vacation and how exactly he landed on this kind of work when he was supposed to be a professional shooter as a sport. Hiring him was probably Chan’s best decision. 
“You’re late,” He said. 
“He had a lot to talk about,” Hyunjin reasoned, taking a seat beside Felix on the couch. All eight members of the family gathered in the main living room with Chan in the middle—slamming folders on the coffee table followed by Hyunjin’s gaze. “What are these?” 
“Our next person,” Minho said, making Hyunjin sigh in response. 
“Another murder for me?” He asked cocking his head.  
“No,” Seungmin answered. “She’s a different case,” 
“She?” 
“Yes,” Felix interrupted as he took the main folder, making Hyunjin read the details. It was a profile. “Y/N Jung. She works as a publisher at Park’s Corporation. Her parents died when she was 5 and raised in an orphanage until the age of 18. Top of her class in high school and graduated Summa Cum Laude at ***** University. Mr. Park hired her a year ago and got promoted 6 months after,” 
“Impressive but what’s with this person?” Hyunjin asked who seemed not interested if it was not someone for him to shoot. 
“We found out that she’s the only daughter of the Godfather of the Jungs who died decades ago, they’re our family’s rival. She probably has no idea since she’s living a normal life but her relatives are after her since she’s the only heir. They wanted to kill her,” Seungmin said—now he is intrigued. 
“What if the Jungs will find out that she’s with us?” 
“It will provoke them of course. They still have a debt to pay after all,” Chan said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “They can’t have her that easily,” 
“So,” Hyunjin paused, pointing at himself. “I’m going to kidnap her?” He was unsure about his assignment but it will probably go that way. “And where do we keep her? Here?” 
“Your guesthouse,” Chan chuckled. “Take this mission as your days off from work, I will make sure no one finds you,” 
“Hyung, give me a break. I’m supposed to leave for Colmar this weekend,” Hyunjin argued. 
“You can’t,” Chan said firmly. “You know how your job is unpredictable so either you do this or leave?” 
“Oh, I’m supposed to be your assassin now, a babysitter?” Hyunjin scoffed. But he knows he doesn’t have a choice. Again. 
Hyunjin finds himself inside his room after the meeting in Chan’s heavenly huge mansion at the top of a mountain that was rendered for residency. He thought about the case thoroughly this time and this is the very first mission that Chan asked him not to kill anyone. It is unusual for him of course, as he is not used to the concept he’s getting into. A lost princess that everyone is looking for. She could be Rapunzel in some sort. But anyway, this could help him rest for a while. It would make his status crumble in this family if he declined the offer. 
He ran his fingers through his black long locks as he sat on his bed, taking off his blazer and loosening his tie. The gun was already placed inside the drawer and took a glass of whiskey sitting on his side table. He stared at nowhere and drowned in his deep thoughts while his back rested comfortably on the headboard along with the pillow while reading your profile and other personal documents attached to the folder. 
A lot will be planned for this exhibition. 
“Fuck,” He hissed, slamming the papers on his side table. 
**
Days passed and you arrived at the party’s venue five minutes before it started. Mr. Park already requested your presence the moment you walked in. It is supposed to be a night to enjoy but little didn’t you know that you’re being watched. Being not a fan of this kind of event, you didn’t want to be here in the first place. With tons of people and the intoxicating smell of alcohol and cigarettes, there is a reason why you didn’t party when you were still a student. 
A heavy sigh escaped your lips—you admit that your life sucked by then, an orphan who managed to survive the challenges in life. You raised yourself well with the use of your late parents’ insurance money, which is quite A LOT. Yet you stopped using them when you got a job. Growing up in a tough environment, not that many friends, no social life, and a pile of money made you survive like a castaway on an unknown island. Yet you were thankful for being responsible and a few guidelines from the headmistress of the orphanage who is supposed to be a mother to you but she never did, maybe once she was. 
These thoughts never leave your mind. It was an experience to grow up independent. It hurts you sometimes that you grew up having no parents to call on, no house to go home to during the holidays, just you in that lonely—godforsaken apartment. You got used to it anyway. 
And who are you to judge the life that the heavens gave you?
You sat by the counter after a long conversation with Mr. Park regarding his business. It was tiring to speak corporate on your day off. You should be at home watching your favorite local drama and crying with a bucket of popcorn. But hell, one of the most important people in the company should be here. Another sigh was heard from you as the bartender placed a glass of champagne on the counter, indicating it was your drink. 
“Thanks,” You smiled. 
The loud music, the blinding lights, the smoke, and the smell of cigarettes being mixed with the air-conditioner are choking you. It was bad—you could’ve coughed so loud until your throat dried. Champagne won’t be a lot of help either. 
Hyunjin was there. 
White v-neck long-sleeved polo, black blazer, black slacks, and black shoes. A handsome tall man, who smells expensive, who looks expensive, and a bit dramatic at times but the people who see him can’t deny he is so damn attractive with that suit with a few strands of wet hair styled on his face for elegance. 
He walked slowly after seeing you settled by the counter wearing that black long dress with see-through sleeves. You were beautiful. 
Felix followed him as Han and Changbin were on the lookout—watching some members of the Jungs trying to locate you in the venue. Hyunjin ordered a drink as he sat on the empty high chair beside you which you had to raise your glass as a form of greeting him. He just gave you a small smile and moved his chair to watch the crowd dancing instead of the bunch of drinks on display. 
It’s safe to say that he caught your attention. Who wouldn’t when he’s tall, short wolf cut, a black suit with a white top within, a glass of whiskey in one hand—a face of a model, siren eyes, a great physique… he’s totally your type. It would give you a reason to stay in the party for a while. You hang your head low on the counter as Hyunjin notices you getting consumed by the alcohol while sipping on his whiskey. 
“You shouldn’t drink that much,” You heard him say. Damn, he’s concerned, that thought made you blush. 
“I know,” You paused between the hic. “It’s just, it’s my first time having to enjoy a drink outside,” You smiled. “I’m not a party girl, you see. I’m a home buddy,” But Hyunjin just smirked. 
You didn’t leave the counter an hour later and kept on drinking the same drink. Mind you there is only 12% of alcohol in a bottle of champagne but your tolerance doesn’t give a fuck. You don’t usually get drunk easily but this time is different. That’s what they say, drink your problems away. It is not in your life mottos. A drink wouldn’t make you decide to die. 
The person beside you, will. Not the one you greeted with the glass. He’s too handsome. 
“Incoming to Ms. Jung’s left side, Hyunjin,” Said Han from the earpiece. 
Hyunjin cleared his throat as he moved—facing the bar while turning his glass from side to side. 
Being independent meant you could sense danger in one glance but you were too dizzy to identify the man beside you. Unbeknownst to your actions, your hand landed on the man who smiled at you earlier and looked at him. He was confused as to why but it is a plus that you trust him, which you shouldn’t. Maybe because he’s not provoking you or anything. You tried so hard to stay quiet and not embarrass yourself in front of your party crush. 
Hyunjin was alerted as he craned his neck a bit to observe. 
“Such a beautiful face,” You heard the other man from your left while tightening the grip of your hand on Hyunjin’s. The unknown man was about to caress your cheek when Hyunjin suddenly let go of the grip—spinning your chair to face him, having his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he planted a kiss on your lips. It was so sudden and unexpected yet it was good. Felix was surprised as he witnessed it behind Hyunjin. 
“Dude, what the fuck?” He exclaimed. 
The kiss lasted longer. His delicate plump lips were soft as it tasted like he just had a glass of whiskey now being mixed with champagne you just had. His kiss was so gentle to the point that it was so sweetーyour knees felt weak and blood rushed through your veins. Unbeknownst to the events, he pulled his gun out from his belt, aiming at the man’s forehead. His eyes were looking at him as he was kissing you. 
The man raised his hands in surrender and yet he had this dirty smirk plastered on his face. Han and Changbin were already standing on both sides, hooking their arms around the person of interest. You were so captivated by his kiss that it felt like having a live makeout session in front of the barista and Felix but Hyunjin had to stop before it got deep.
“Fuck,” The man grunts. 
“Don’t turn around,” Hyunjin whispered to your ear as you could feel your heart going insane and your mind blank. Did he just kiss you? Yes, what the fuck. His left arm was still around your waistーpulling you closer as if he was hugging you. But why is it that he won’t allow you to turn around when you’re a blushing mess and the urge to scream in happiness is strong? 
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” The man with blonde hair spoke behind him. What?
“Are you working for the Jungs?” Hyunjin asked. You didn’t understand what these are all about and tried to get away but Hyunjin’s too strong to let you go. “Babe, don’t move,” He whispered again. I am going to ascend to heaven if he’s going to be like that for a while. 
“You could say that,” The man behind you answered. 
“You better pay your debt to the Wolves,” Hyunjin answered. “I’ll make sure you will never get your hands on Y/n,” 
How the fuck did he know my name?
“You will never know what will happen next if you kill me, Hyunjin,” The man stated. “They will find the heiress no matter what,” And with that, Hyunjin pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot was heard through the whole room. The body collapsed as everyone panicked while making their way out of the venue leaving you, Hyunjin, his brothers, and a group of men who were probably the dead man’s accomplices. You were also surprised, flinching at your spotーconfused about what was happening. 
“Get her out of here,” Said Han. “Now.” He added before he ran upstairs to catch the assigned person to take you to the Jungs along with Changbin. Hyunjin nudged Felix before turning back to you. 
“What’s happening?” You spoke in panic but at the same time, you couldn’t move. 
“Look, Miss, we have to go.” He said. Little didn’t you know that the crush you’re supposed to have made your night turn unexpectedly?
“What? You’re a stranger, I can’t trust you!” You argued but Hyunjin didn’t have enough patience to talk back right now and just went to pick you up like a damsel in distress. 
“Let’s go, Felix!” You heard him say as he walked out of the venue. Han and Changbin decided to stay back for a while unless they captured the spies who were watching you the whole time when you were with Mr. Park and Hyunjin. Everyone was panicking and managed to get out, even your boss who was assisted by his guards.
“Hey! Put me down!” You exclaimed trying to get down but Hyunjin didn’t even bother to listen and you were way too drunk to stand on your own. “We kissed but I don’t even know your name!” 
“It’s fucking Hwang Hyunjin,” He said, making you sit on the passenger’s seat as Felix went to his car parked beside Hyunjin’s. 
“Okay, Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin, take me home,” You said as you heard his engine roar. 
“I don’t even know where you live but you’re coming home with me,” He answered as he stepped on the gas making the car accelerate with Felix, tailing him. 
“Is this kidnapping? I will sue you!” You exclaimed but Hyunjin just tried to put up with your shit. “God, I’m fucking stupid! First, I got drunk from that stupid champagne! Second, I kissed a stranger and got traumatized and third I’m letting this motherfucker take me somewhere,” You cried while holding on to your seatbelt. “I don’t even know who Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is, the fuck?!” 
“Will you shut up?” Hyunjin hissed, making you whimper instead. 
I’m going to die, no, I can’t die yet. I won’t allow them to kill me, I still have strays to feed, I want to get married and have kids, and I still need to meet the love of my life and grow old with them. Fuck, I’m going to die. I am being kidnapped and Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is absolutely unknown in my entire life. I am so dumb, so stupid letting my first kiss taken— You thought when you heard someone was calling. 
“Hyunjin, we’re being followed,” Felix said through the call as soon as Hyunjin accepted it and took a glance at his side mirror. 
“Fuck,” Hyunjin said in frustration. 
“I’ll stall them, get on the freeway,” Felix said. 
“No, fuck! They know that Y/n’s here,” Hyunjin answered.  
“What are we going to do?” Felix asked, feeling anxious from the other line.
“Go back and get Changbin and Han,” Hyunjin said as you were listening to their conversation. The car ride is making you sicker and wants to puke, but Hyunjin’s car seems so expensive that you’re just trying to hold it in and yet it seems impossible. This is an unexpected turn of a Saturday night. 
“What about you?” 
“I’ll lead them astray, then,” Hyunjin said. 
“Fuck, alone?” Felix reacted.
“Just go, Felix!” Felix sighed heavily as he made a sudden U-turn making the following car halt in response. You stopped crying upon listening to their conversation and when Felix left, you could see how angry Hyunjin was. “You better hold on tight,” You heard him say when you are already holding on for your dear life. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!
He’s already violating traffic laws now with his friend and fuck, what’s the worse that could happen? Getting arrested or killed after being kidnapped? And the car following us is not even the cops. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!
“What’s happening?” You asked for the second time, tightening your grip on the seatbelt. 
“You’ll find out later,” He said as he made the car engine roar—speeding through an unknown road. 
You could feel how unusual the speed of his car was, it was faster than a few minutes ago. Vomiting would be the worst that could happen inside right now. Not in this expensive car, not in this expensive black dress that you bought from your favorite brand, not with this hair and makeup you’ve spent hours to make yourself presentable after 5 days of being stressed.
“Can I at least know where you’re taking me?” You asked, trying not to make puking sounds. “I think I’m getting sicker at this speed,” 
“Don’t you dare vomit in my car!” He exclaimed, trying to focus on the road and at the same time, glancing at his side mirror. The car is still there and Felix is nowhere to be found now. Hyunjin kept on taking turns and you’re getting sicker. In a few seconds, you won’t be able to hold it in. 
“Can you slow down a bit?” You begged but there’s no way Hyunjin is doing that. 
“Do you want to live or not?” Hyunjin hissed, hands tightening their grip on the wheel even more. 
“I want to if you won’t kill us,” You said, almost crying again. 
“I’m a skilled driver,” He argued. 
“I’m not doubting you,” You answered, shaking in fear and sickness. “But I would like to apologize in advance,” 
“What? Fuck—no!” Hyunjin exclaimed as he was too late. You already vomited on his mat— coughing after feeling like you were being choked. “Motherfucker! I told you not to let it out!” 
“But I suddenly feel better! Don’t worry, I’ll wash your car,” You said as you leaned back on the passenger’s seat leaving Hyunjin more frustrated. 
“Fuck,” He sighed as he continued driving at the same speed when suddenly a truck was heading through the go signal from the right side at full speed as well. It gave Hyunjin an idea that he made the clutch go forward as the engine roared even more, wanting to go through the stop signal. 
“Wait!” You exclaimed, followed by intense screaming while covering your face with your hands as Hyunjin stayed quiet, brows knitted together, hands tightened their grip on the wheel even more—speeding through the highway and the car that was following you, crashed on the truck making a loud impact as the cars lined up got delayed to go through the traffic. Your heart was beating faster—panting, as you sweat from all the vomiting and a reckless driver beside you. Thanks to them, you are probably getting sober from the series of events. “What the fuck was that?” 
“I told you I’m a skilled driver. But you have to clean my car tomorrow morning,” He said, sighing in relief as he glanced at his rearview mirror, watching the car burn as it stood still, glass shattered and crushed. 
“So I’m not going home, then?” You asked, watching him with those terrified eyes. 
“Do you think after what just happened I’ll let you go home? You vomited in my car, my brothers are out there trying to capture those who wanted to kill you, and I just saved your life from those bastards and that fucker at the party,” Hyunjin said, getting back on the car’s usual speed while loosening his tight grip. 
“Why do they want to kill me? And how did you know me?” You asked, being confused, to begin with in addition to fear and doubt.  
“Long story short, I was tasked to take you in because of your family affairs.” He answered. 
“Family affairs? I’m an orphan! Nobody came for me when I was at the orphanage!” Your exclaimed, brows knitted together.
“Y/n Jung, a publisher at Park’s Corporation, the daughter of Mr. F/n Jung and Ms. M/n Kim, the Godfather. Orphaned at the age of 5, was sent to ***** University and graduated Summa Cum Laude. You have lived alone since you were 18,” He said, making your eyes widen in shock. 
“Stalker much! How did you know?” You shouted, attempting to kick him. “And Godfather? What the fuck is that?”
“You are the only heir of the highest mafia leader who died years ago. Your relatives are coming to kill you so they can get your parents’ properties in all of Korea. That explains why they left you a great sum of money,” Hyunjin explained, which became too much for your sober brain to catch up and take in. 
“So you’re saying that I’m part of this gangster shit?” You laughed. “Dude, I barely even know my parents and my family background, and then someone like you just appeared out of nowhere, explaining this crazy stuff,” You answered, resting on the passenger’s seat like a stubborn little child. “I want to go home,” 
“You owe me and my car. My boss will kill me if I let you go,” Hyunjin argued but only sighed in response, just letting an unusual stranger earn your slight bit of trust. 
He knows you have so many questions at the moment and he’s not sure he can answer everything. That is why he is taking you to Chan’s enormous mansion at the mountaintop. The streetlights became rare the moment you entered the road by the cliff, nervous about what was going to happen shortly. It was dark—you didn’t even know what to feel. Being terrified is an understatement, you have no idea what you are going into. 
Hyunjin became quiet as soon as you stopped talking yet the disgusting smell aroused his irritation. He tried not to get upset with it since you were already on the premises. 
“Clean yourself before we see Chan,” You heard him say as you gave him a nod. Hyunjin parked his car and walked around it to open the door for you. 
“Thanks,” You said as you followed him inside. 
The stories you’ve read about these kinds of families weren’t exaggerating when writers say that Mafias are filthy rich with huge mansions, expensive cars and furniture, business booming here and there, and money coming and going. Being a bookworm and a movie lover helped. Your mouth gaped at the sight of the interior. It’s probably more expensive than you. But learning the fact that you’re an heiress made a small stretch on your net worth. Of course, if it’s not a prank or whatever. 
Your eyes wandered around the main living room through the hall and the stairs as Hyunjin led you inside his room. Even his room is bigger than your apartment. 
“Your clothes are placed on my bed, the bathroom’s on your left. I’ll be outside,” He said as you gave him a nod but before you could take a step away from him, you felt a hand wrapped around your wrist—pulling you closer. “Don’t even bother trying to escape,” 
“Even if I did, you’ll capture me eventually,” You said, rolling your eyes—unhanding yourself away by harshly removing your wrist from his large hand. 
“If you don’t want to be killed of course,” He smirked as he went out of the room. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the pajamas he prepared for you. 
“Is she here?” Seungmin asked the moment he saw Hyunjin standing outside his room. 
“Inside,” Hyunjin answered, motioning his head to the door. 
“Good,” Seungmin sighed in relief. “Felix said they’re on their way. They got the accomplices. Chan said they will be taken to the island tonight and you killed someone out there,” 
“I didn’t,” Hyunjin breathed. “The rest of them were following us, I have to make sure Y/n’s safe,” 
“I know,” Seungmin said. “You did well,” 
Thankfully, Hyunjin’s door wasn’t soundproof. You heard their conversation when you were about to knock. The sage green pajamas were comfy as they were made of silk, your hair was wet after taking a shower and the other products you used were immaculate. They must’ve prepared for your arrival that he already has those products aligned in his bathroom. 
You leaned closer to the door and knocked a few times just to make Hyunjin unlock it, making Seungmin intrigued to see you too. 
It took a while as you cleaned everything, making yourself sober up. This was a lesson not to drink a lot—you don’t even like drinking. You need to be presentable at least, but the aftertaste of champagne didn’t feel good staying inside your mouth. Yet this wasn’t that important to you right now as you have questions to ask and answers to collect.
“Hi,” Seungmin beamed. “I’m Seungmin, the family lawyer, nice to meet you Y/n,” He added, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You hesitated at first, but it seems like he’s a bit friendly. 
“Hi,” You said, giving him a quick smile and shaking his hand. He looks too cute to be part of this gangster family but at the same time, extremely attractive. 
“Let’s go see Chan now,” Hyunjin said as he walked away first with Seungmin gesturing his hand to follow the former as he stayed behind you. 
You have no idea who Chan is, and you get even more nervous that you are a few steps into meeting him. The information about your parents became unexpected because no one knew and no one even came to the orphanage to tell you anything. Not even your relatives who unfortunately don’t care about you and now want you dead. The idea led you to come with them to earn information and flee when you get the chance. Thoughts of escaping would be impossible at this point since you are being surrounded and watched. There are a lot of surveillance cameras from the gate to the mansion. It’s hard to find a blind spot. 
Hyunjin and Seungmin’s footsteps echoed through the hall while yours remained quiet because of the fluffy Cinnamon Roll slippers Hyunjin gave. It was almost cute but you remembered he kissed you without permission, hypothetically let the driver of that car who followed you, get into a terrible accident and shoot a man in the same night. May they rest in peace, in hell, if they deserve it. 
Your lips formed into a thin line as you walked downstairs, earning the attention of six other men—probably living in this house—especially that big, scary-looking man, sitting in the middle. You recognized Felix, and the two who were standing behind the couch he was sitting at were probably Han and Changbin. They’ve got cuts and bruises from all the trouble earlier. Damn. And the rest, you don’t know. 
Everyone stood up and faced you the moment you got down, Seungmin gestured to you to sit down on a single couch to begin the meeting but you couldn’t even move. You were intimidated and yet they bowed to show respect. 
What the fuck is happening? 
“Please don’t be scared, take a seat,” The man in the middle spoke. You were hesitating at first but eventually gave in. It’s too dangerous to provoke someone this scary. “I know you probably have a lot of questions about all of this, but before anything else, I would like to introduce this family. I’m Bang Chan, the boss. You just met Seungmin, our lawyer, Felix is our Intel, Han and Changbin are our Capos,” Chan said, then he immediately gestured to the next person. “Jeongin, my apprentice, Minho the consigliere and Hyunjin, our assassin,” 
“A-assassin?” You spoke. 
You were stunned by how everyone has a role in this family and yet remained confused. Eight men with acceptable roles in the family and the one who took you away is apparently an assassin. He could’ve killed you the first time. You were deceived by that handsome face of his but who knows what job he has? A fucking assassin. It keeps repeating in your head. 
“Uhm, not so nice to meet you,” You said, you mean it anyway. “I think I don’t need to say something about myself,” You added, taking a deep breath to avoid being nervous and scared. Everything feels off in the first place too. 
“You don’t need to. We know who you are,” Chan said as you sighed heavily, biting your lower lip. 
“Okay, why am I here?” You asked. “Hyunjin mentioned something about my late parents. Did you do a background check on me?” 
“Yes, it is part of our job,” Chan answered, gesturing to Seungmin to hand you a file. “He may have mentioned you being the sole heir of the Godfather, Mr. F/n Jung,” 
“That’s fucking absurd,” You retorted. 
“It’s the truth,” Chan said firmly. “Your relatives have been tracking you down for years, that explains what happened and why you’re brought here.  All information about you and your late parents is in there,” He added as Seungmin offered you a thick folder. Licking your lips—your hands reached for the folder and flipped a few pages. 
The first one you saw was your profile, next to that were papers from the orphanage—articles about the car crash and the insurance money, your university application, land and property ownerships being signed by your parents, contracts, and other confidential documents. It took you a while to skim and scan everything. It felt surreal as if your life was written in a book—the missing heiress of a freaking wealthy family of gangsters. And now, some unknown relatives are coming after you. 
“I really don’t know anything, and so what if they want to own my parents’ property, I don’t care at all,” You said, firmly. 
“That is not what we do, Y/n,” Chan retorted. “Loyalty is important to our family and you have a rank in the Jungs so either they will let you live to rule for them or kill you to take everything you’re supposed to own. Your parents built that empire so you could have a normal and comfortable life but they ended up being killed in the crash many years ago. It’s a miracle that you’re even alive,” 
Then it made you remember—the crash. Suddenly, a child’s voice echoed through your memory as the sounds of ambulances were all over the place. The front side of the car was crushed as you sat there crying with your head bleeding from the impact. You were taken to the hospital and later found out that your parents died before they could get them out of the car. A social worker and a lawyer came by to assess your papers and live in an orphanage. It was discussed that you can get the insurance money after you turn 18. It was enough to sustain you and yet, everything still felt bitter. Your life was never the same after that. Maybe your life got a little bit better after you moved out and lived on your own. Yet it became lonely and sad. Having a job doesn’t fix a broken heart either. Everything messes with your head. 
No one from your family visited you because of the hatred. The headmistress didn’t even help you that much and the other kids were getting foster parents except you. It was tragic. You didn’t know what was wrong and longed to have a family too. Maybe Chan is right about one thing, you’re lucky to be alive but instead of living happily out of it—the sunshine turned into rain and the light switched off to dark. It was sad knowing no one came to your graduation or any parent-teacher meetings, no one would sign school documents other than your landlord. It was a fucked up life for you to thrive on. 
Tears suddenly streamed down your cheeks while looking at Chan. Felix caught it immediately and passed the box of tissues. You were surprised by it that you didn’t hesitate to respond to his actions. Maybe these people are not bad after all or they’re just being polite. You wiped your tears after taking a few sheets and massaging your temples. Being sober doesn’t help to indulge such information but you are getting there. You don’t need to drink again in the future. 
“You think it’s a good miracle, huh? Do you think it’s good to be alive? After everything I’ve been through?!” You exclaimed standing up from your seat but they didn’t flinch a bit, except Felix. 
“This is not the place for you to be emotional,” That was a damn red flag to invalidate you. 
“Y/n, calm down, take a seat,” Felix said in his most gentle voice, handing you a glass of water. “Don’t worry, it’s pure, not poisoned,” He smiled like an angel in disguise. You sit down as you take the glass and drink it, still giving that glare to Chan who has no remorse plastered on his face. 
“You and Hyunjin will go to his guest house first thing in the morning. No one will be able to find you there,” Chan said. 
“What?” You asked, shocked by what Chan just answered. 
“We have to stay here because of the Jungs, but we’ll accompany you to the island tomorrow. Hyunjin needs his day off too,” Seungmin said.  
“Yeah, he will take care of you, but don’t worry, we will make sure no one finds you so call us when you need us,” Felix interrupted. 
“Why are you doing this?” You asked. 
“They owe us big time, your family is the reason why our parents died. All of us,” Chan answered, which made you caught off guard. So you’re not alone after all. “My parents were second to yours, Ms. Jung. They’re the co-founder of this empire but after being betrayed and murdered along with the entire family, the kids were forced to grow up in a secluded mansion, trained and studied—chosen to continue their legacy.” He added as he stood up from his seat and walked slowly around you. 
“It was a hard life,” Felix butted in. 
“Hyunjin grew up to be a shooter so I hired him as my assassin. Seungmin studied law, and he became the family’s lawyer. Minho is my advisor, Han and Changbin were trained to fight, Felix became our intelligence because of his skills and Jeongin is still learning from me. I was forced to lead an empire, Y/n, the Jungs are the rats. You’re lucky you didn’t grow up in this environment or you are already long gone,” He said as you stayed quiet. “Your family has a debt to pay and a relative to kill. It’s either you want to go out there and be killed or stay here until we settle everything with them. Your choice,” 
“I don’t have a family,” You answered as you balled your fists in anger. 
“We know,” 
“How did you find me?” You asked. 
“Felix,” Chan answered. “We have connections so when we knew you were alive, I sent Felix to spy on you,” 
“Stalking is my job but legally,” Felix said with a sheepish smile plastered on his face making you sigh in response. 
“I guess I have nothing to tell you about myself,” You said. “But if you’re going to keep me locked up, what about my job? My apartment? My laptop? The stray cats and dogs I’m feeding?” 
“The strays were already taken to a shelter. Your apartment won’t be touched but we had to get a few things for you to use and of course, your laptop,” Seungmin answered. “We have someone to replace you for the meantime in your job. But don’t worry, Mr. Park works for Chan Hyung yet he cannot let you work for your privacy,” 
“Unbelievable,” You sighed. “You mentioned that I’m supposed to inherit everything they own as what these documents have stated and yet no one told me. I don’t know anything about bullshit and my so-called relatives are after me to kill me so they can name these properties and businesses under themselves. Why do they need to dispose of me when I don’t know anything?” You asked. 
“The last page is the will of your parents,” Seungmin answered. “It got notarized by my dad. Unfortunately, he passed not long ago after your parents did. The Jungs have copies of the will so to be able to take the properties, they will kill you first since you’re the first in line, second is your uncle, their temporary boss. As long as you’re alive, they won’t be able to touch it,” 
“What?” You reacted. This is way too much information to take. Your brain is foggy from all of that drink and you don’t know if taking a shower would make you feel a bit sane. 
“These documents belong to you now,” Seungmin said. “So please understand that we can’t let you go out there,” 
“Why are you helping me?” You asked—head hang low. 
“We know it’s shocking to hear all of this in one night, but you are a crucial target,” Minho said. “We used to live in harmony once,” You nodded in response. 
“So your parents used to work for them?” You asked, looking at them. 
“To the Godfather,” Minho nodded. 
“Fuck,” You hissed washing your face with your hands with the folder laying on your lap. 
“It’s already getting late, we will continue this conversation tomorrow,” Chan said out of nowhere, dismissing everyone as they left for their rooms while you remained in the living room with Hyunjin taking a seat on your right—sipping on his glass of whiskey. 
“You’re not sleeping yet?” He asked. 
“How could I?” You asked back. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” 
“I didn’t say yes to this plan either. But it’s my job and the moment I took you out of that party, you became my responsibility. Call me your babysitter,” He smirked while drinking. 
“Shut up,” You said, rolling your eyes. 
“Go sleep in my room, you had a long night,” He said, standing up from the couch as he shoved his hands inside his slacks’ pockets. 
“What about you?” You asked. 
“I’ll sleep with Seungmin,” He said casually. “Let’s go,” 
You couldn’t sleep a wink that night even though you had to leave first thing in the morning. It felt weird sleeping in a house full of men and laying on a king-sized bed owned by someone you just met. You admit he is handsome and all got mad driving skills and loves whiskey, which makes your heart leap. Not to mention the kiss. What a bastard. He’s not as what you thought he would be, although you are so guilty of vomiting in his car he has the very right to be upset. But the thing is, you’re being held hostage. You also have the very right to be mad. Yet at the same time, their reasons are valid to keep you here. It explains why Han and Changbin got beaten up when Felix arrived way back at the party. 
The bed is comfy after all and you have a lot of information to process at once. It’s unbelievable to have this kind of life being kept a secret from you for years. Damn family affairs. 
**
It was already morning when you were welcomed by a loud knock outside Hyunjin’s room. It made you groan in frustration as that was the reason why you woke up. You had to make your way towards the door and open it while half-asleep. Hyunjin’s face was the one that welcomed you outside causing you to be wide awake. You admit you fell in love at first last night but it didn’t last long when you knew he was taking you with him somewhere you didn’t know. And now, you’re here inside their mansion, inside his room and he is standing three feet in front of you between the door of his bedroom. 
“Good morning?” You said. 
“Get dressed and have breakfast downstairs, we’re leaving in 2 hours,” He said, handing you a set of clothes and a pair of shoes to wear before he left. 
“Fuck,” You said under your breath and hurried to do your new routine. You packed your backpack shoving your laptop, the folder, and some of the necessities the guys had prepared for you from last night. Obviously from your apartment, how did they manage to have these?
Hyunjin went downstairs and headed to the dining room where everyone settled in. You were left out for a bit and rushed down almost an hour after Hyunjin came by. Everyone looked at you wearing that white top with a gray cardigan and white slacks. They wouldn’t deny the fact that you’re pretty and it’s their first time having a woman in the house. Chan cleared his throat making Hyunjin snap out of his thoughts after staring at you. His thoughts remained unknown but he was captured by your beauty although you are stupid. Being drunk Y/n, explained it. 
“Take a seat, my dear,” You heard Chan say. Felix saw how amused Hyunjin was as he smirked, teasing the older one the moment you sat down on the empty seat beside him. “Eat,” 
“You sound like an old man, Hyung,” Seungmin butted in making everyone snicker. 
“Shut up Seungmin,” Chan retorted. 
“Thanks,” That’s all you could say in between the conversation. What an awkward situation to be dining with them. 
“Did you sleep well?” Seungmin asked, turning to you who was just sitting on the other side. 
“Not really,” You answered, taking a bite of your sandwich. 
“That’s normal,” He answered. “I hope you’ll get used to us being around, we can’t take being separated unless there’s an important matter,”
“Really?” You asked. 
“Yeah, we grew up together under one roof, we’re not blood-related but we treat each other like brothers, family to specific,” You heard Han say. 
“Good for you guys,” You said. “I was alone,” 
“You could be family—aww!” Felix exclaimed when Hyunjin smacked him. 
“Y/n’s not our family,” Hyunjin said grimly. 
That made you look down and eat in silence while the rest did the same. Chan obviously didn’t care, Minho couldn’t even look at you, Changbin and Jeongin didn’t bother talking to you, Hyunjin seemed cold, and only Seungmin, Felix, and Han were a bit warm. You couldn’t blame them for feeling that way but you’re innocent with all these family dramas going around. You tried to be friendly despite the situation, but they couldn’t trust you and the same goes for how you felt. 
Why on earth did the heavens give you this life? 
You left the mansion an hour after having breakfast as Hyunjin was driving you somewhere. It was a different car from last night. The boys were having a convoy with 4 cars, 2 in each and 3 in the last car. You settled beside Hyunjin a few minutes ago with your things at the back of his new car. He might’ve disposed of the one he used after the little incident happened. 
“Where’s your car?” You asked. 
“I left it,” He said. “The caretaker will clean it for me,”
“I thought I was supposed to clean it?” You asked again. 
“We don’t have time,” He said in his monotonous voice. 
“I’m sorry,” You said. “Can I do something to make it up to you, at least?” 
“Nothing,” He said, making you sigh. 
“Okay, why did you kiss me last night?” You asked. Oh, so you’re finally making a conversation right now? No one spoke about it, not even Felix who looked disgusted when he saw it. Maybe because they were too occupied last night—it slipped away from their minds. Hyunjin also got upset about how things turned out as if he didn’t call you some pet name. 
“Do you want to see that man being shot in front of you?” He asked. Well, he has a point. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it, you kissed me back,” 
“Because I thought I was finally getting a life,” You argued. 
“I’m not sorry about it,” He smirked. Motherfucker. 
Your eyes met the scenery outside as you were drowning in your sea of thoughts. The so-called abduction, the intoxicating kiss, relocating you to an island? What kind of fate is this?  But He’s right, you liked that kiss. It made your heart go insane, he kissed you like a lover who finally found the love of his life when it was supposed to be nothing but a kiss between fucking strangers and it’s making you crazy. A coincidence even. At first, it’s just crushing on a stranger who turns out to be an assassin. Stupid Y/n. 
Hyunjin continued to drive but took a few glances at your gloomy face, being reflected by the car’s window. 
“My guesthouse is on an island that Chan owns,” He said, earning back your attention. “One can get in or out by plane or yacht, we need to travel there by air,” 
“Chan must be rich huh,” 
“He’s the pillar of this empire after everyone got murdered. All the properties are named after him,” 
“Ah,” You nodded. 
“The island is secluded so no one except us can enter. The roads are limited so it’s hard to do car racing,” He added as you continued to nod. 
“You guys decide what my fate will be,” You said. “I have no family to worry about me so I can be dragged around, besides, you got my replacement at work,” 
“Are you that sad?” Hyunjin asked. 
“Of course, who wouldn’t? Imagine you’re a little kid who grew up alone with no one to look up to. Then one day she lived alone to thrive for herself, got a job years later, and got abducted, witnessed a murder, and a stranger stealing a kiss all in one night for the first time she ever decided to go to a party,” You huffed. “At least you have your brothers. I don’t have one with me,” 
Hyunjin shut his mouth after that. 
“Look, this isn’t my plan on spending my days off. I’m supposed to be in Colmar,” he said. 
“Well, I’m sorry to ruin your vacation. As if I expected to be with you in the first place when I should be sleeping in my apartment the whole day because I have work tomorrow,” You argued. 
Hyunjin gave up. 
After a while, everyone parked their cars by the airport as you followed Hyunjin to the private plane that was prepared for the departure. Your hair danced with the wind along with the excess of your clothes. The others followed and you’re being stuck with them again. It was awkward that you decided to sit at the back as they continued their conversation. Felix saw you alone while Hyunjin slept on the other row. A smile formed on his face and decided to take the seat beside you, hoping he’d feel welcomed. 
You were just waiting to depart as your eyes fixated through the window and didn’t even notice that Felix was already there. He didn’t bother to take your attention in the meantime and just sat quietly—taking a magazine and started to read while you looked outside, not until the flight attendant announced the take-off. 
“Hi,” You greeted. 
“Hi! I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” He said. 
“Not at all,” You smiled. “You’re probably the only one who wants to be my friend,” 
“Force of habit, since I tend to gather information about you,” He answered while fidgeting his fingers. “We’re about to take off and it will take an hour to arrive so get some rest—poke me when you need anything!” 
“I will,” You chuckled. He’s cute. Not long after, the private jet took off and you stared again through the window. “How long do we have to stay on the island?” You asked, not taking your eyes away from the scenery outside.
“It would depend on how long it would take for the Jungs to stop looking for you,” He answered. “All of us won’t be consistent on staying there, it’s just that Hyunjin is the best one who can protect you since he grew up being a shooter. It’s easy for him to kill someone. I mean, we all do, but he’s the best one,” He added as you finally looked at him. 
“That’s cool. I thought he’s just another reckless driver racing on the road,” You answered which made Felix chuckle. 
“I mean he’s a skilled driver,” Felix said, making a pause between your conversation. “The thing is, our job starting from now on is to go in and out of the island, except for Hyunjin, of course. He’ll stay with you. It’s his guesthouse anyway, and the rest of us will take off the Jungs,” He explained. 
“Isn’t it dangerous though? You’re risking your life for a mere stranger like me,” You said. 
“Like what Chan Hyung said, they owe us and we’re not doing this solely because of you,” Felix answered. “And once they find out that you’re with us, which is what they already know because of last night—I’m afraid that you’re not the only one on the murder list,” 
“That means…” 
“Me, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Han, Changbin hyung, Jeongin, Minho hyung and most especially, Chan hyung,” Felix said. “If he dies, what will happen to us? To you? And with everything that our parents have left us,” That statement made Felix look gloomy as if the sunshine hid behind the clouds to provide rain and you’re standing somewhere without a roof—letting the rainwater shower you. 
“God, I’m so sorry,” You sighed trying to hold back your tears as you leaned on your seat. It makes you feel a sense of guilt even though everything is still new. 
“It’s not your fault. What are you apologizing for?” Hyunjin said still not moving from his position—arms crossed on his chest, legs gapped—his head rested on his neck pillow with sunglasses on his eyes. 
“Don’t mind him,” Felix excused. “He even kissed you without permission so I’m sorry about that,” He added when you just gave him a sorry smile.
“I’m not sorry about that too!” Hyunjin butted in making Felix sigh before turning in his direction.
“You’re being a jerk,” Felix scolded him as Hyunjin rolled his eyes inside those expensive glasses.
It was a new sight the moment you stepped out of the private area and headed toward the mini-airport, specifically built for this island. The family is filthy rich that you cannot even comprehend how it works. From afar, they look like a normal bunch of businessmen working together to provide a better economy for people to work but once you enter the circle and observe them, they only serve one master—the boss who is the brain of everything. They fight for the good although they use violence and crimes just to have a peaceful atmosphere. Being involved with them came to be unexpected. From a normal, innocent human being to a wanted daughter of a late criminal lord. 
It is the season of summer and everything happens in the blink of an eye. The night changed too fast—not even 24 hours. That’s what everyone says, you don’t know what is going to happen in the future. All eyes darted on you and they’re all armed. Apart from the brothers, there were also guards walking along as you headed to cars prepared to head to Hyunjin’s guesthouse. It was a big island when you got an aerial view as it was separated from the outside world. You were assisted when you sat beside Hyunjin as he drove away. The island is obviously surrounded by water which would be harder to escape. They don’t need surveillance cameras anymore when you’re on the loose just to find you. No boats, and planes to be used—unless it’s urgent. 
Being surrounded by water is a genius idea since it is already summer. You have the freedom to explore around and maybe read by the shore if the guesthouse wouldn’t be too far from the sea. Another convoy was set to travel heading on the limited road Hyunjin was talking about. You didn’t even expect that the guesthouse would be enormous just like Chan’s mansion on the mountaintop. 
It was located a few meters from the shore—surrounded by trees and a garden with a small pavilion for afternoon tea, a swimming pool, and of course, high walls and gates. 
“This is your guesthouse?” You asked. “It seems like a real house,” 
“Let’s say this is a vacation house where I’m supposed to relax, away from all the chaos,” Hyunjin said. 
“You even had an outdoor shooting range a moment ago,” You added. 
“Chan Hyung had it built 2 years ago,” He said, parking the car as soon as it entered the guesthouse grounds. “Your things will be carried to your room so feel free to look around. Felix will attend to you in a bit,” 
“Okay,” You said, letting yourself out of his car as you watched him going to Chan. They walked inside the house as Felix remained with you. The latter was smiling until his ears made you awe. He’s the only sweet one around. A total ball of sunshine. 
When Chan and the rest of his brothers gathered in the main living room while discussing the terms and conditions with Hyunjin, Felix got busy touring you around like a professional tour guide yet you couldn’t help but notice the gun being displayed on his belt. Everyone has. 
“Why do you always carry that?” You asked as Felix stopped explaining some things when you got distracted. 
“Oh, it’s for emergencies,” He said as you walked around the guesthouse. 
And while you were occupied, Chan received a distress message written on his phone. Han was alerted that accomplices from last night were already lined up in the shooting range after they were brought to the island and needed confrontation. Hyunjin stood up immediately and left the premises as he hurried to the shooting range, not far from the house. Everyone followed him which caught your attention and Felix’s. 
“Emergencies like that, probably,” You heard him say. 
“What’s happening?” You asked when Han came. 
“Felix, Chan wants you there. Take Y/n with you,” He said and ran to catch up with the guys—leaving you confused. You followed Felix out from the gates and headed to where they were.  It didn’t even take 10 minutes of the tour and now you’re standing here with them with those unfamiliar faces kneeling down in front of the brothers. You hold on to Felix while watching them. Those men have bruises, obviously after being beaten up. Their hands were cuffed and blood was dripping from their heads. If this island is only for the brothers, why would they bring them here?
“Baby, come here,” Hyunjin suddenly said, to which everyone was caught off guard. He was gesturing to you as he reached out his hand—fingers motioning you to come closer. 
“Baby? What the fuck?” Seungmin said in disgust. 
Your heart started to beat faster—of course, you remembered Hyunjin became your crush for a few minutes during the party, kissed you, and killed some people. Now you are not surprised if he’s going to have another shooting activity. Everyone was quiet and next to him was Chan with a gun in his hand. The others stood on the side, waiting for something to happen. This family never fails to make surprises within the first 24 hours, especially Hyunjin. 
It is breathtaking to witness eight handsome brothers wearing formal attire—either black or white. Hyunjin was wearing all black, from his long-sleeved polo to his pants and belt, silver rings adorned his fingers, and a black bracelet. His ears were pierced. You didn’t even notice how good they looked on him the first time you laid your eyes on him during the party. The broad daylight caused you a thorough observation. He’s so damn attractive. 
You didn’t notice you were staring at him for a while now that he turned to you—lowering his Versace sunglasses, cocking his head. 
“Baby,” He called again. You placed your hand above his as he pulled you gently closer to him. “Now, look,” He added, wrapping his left arm around your waist while pulling out the gun hiding on his belt. 
“What?” You asked, turning your eyes to those men. 
“They are accomplices of the man who tried to assault you last night,”  He said. 
“Are you going to kill them too?” You asked, trembling under his touch. 
“You may want to cover your ears for this, love,” He whispered as his hand covered your eyes while yours came to cover your ears. 
“How did you get inside the Park’s Foundation?” Chan asked them. 
“That’s none of your business,” One of them spoke when a gunshot was heard making you flinch. Hyunjin made you turn around as if he was hugging you, again. You buried your face on his chest, hugging him tightly. 
One down. Three to go. 
“You will never make us speak about the Jungs,” Another one said. 
“I know you won’t. We don’t need anything from you,” Hyunjin said, cocking his gun before aiming it at the man’s forehead, making the man flinch in response. “I don’t like people who meddle with my business. She’s mine to take, motherfucker. Any last words? Any of you?” It seemed like Hyunjin was worked up but managed to keep his cool. 
“Fuck you, Wolves!” 
Hyunjin pulled the trigger as continuous loud gunshots were heard through the island. You flinched at the sound and wanted to walk away but you couldn’t move, again. The same scenario happened twice within the first 24 hours. Why would they want you here?
“Dispose of them,” Chan ordered. “Take Y/n back to the guesthouse. We’ll investigate further of this,” 
“Yes Sir,” 
“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, turning to you while removing his sunglasses as he felt you were shaking from what just happened. 
“Y-yeah,” You stuttered while holding his forearms for support. 
You admit that was cool of him but who the fuck would shoot people in broad daylight?! And Chan too?! You weren’t sure about the baby call sign but it made your heart leap. It was unexpected of him to say that you’re now confused about what kind of treatment you are getting from him. It’s either he’s concerned, hot-tempered, nonchalant hot motherfucker, or what. 
Hyunjin doesn’t understand how he feels about you. Maybe he felt sympathy because you had the same tragic stories to tell. You are one of his rare cases. Maybe the first when he is supposed to be out there killing someone—just like what happened a few minutes ago. Felix came to take you back to the guesthouse leaving him alone on the shooting range, watching the guards cleaning up the mess he just made. Seungmin patted his shoulder before walking away—following Chan back to the guest house. It wasn’t even 10 in the morning. 
“Tsk,” And at that moment, he left. 
“I hope you won’t hate us for what Hyunjin just did,” Felix said as he made you sit on your bed. 
“They probably deserve it,” You said, hanging your head low. 
“He does,” Felix smiled. “But hey, don’t worry, we’re doing this to protect you,” 
“I know,” You smiled bitterly. “It’s just that, I wasn’t expecting that my life would change in a snap. Everything is new to me,” 
“I know,” Felix answered. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m not, I’m scared,” You sniffed, hugging your knees closer to your chest as Felix sat in front of you. 
“I apologize for making you witness everything of this,” He sighed. “We can’t do anything about it, Y/n. If anything happens to you, this rivalry will continue to grow,” 
“I know,” You cried. “Hyunjin and Chan don’t need to show me. I mean, I didn’t see anything but it’s scaring me,” Felix saw you shaking at that moment and hugged you immediately trying to calm you down. 
“It won’t happen again,” He added, hugging you tighter. “You should take some rest, my brothers and I are heading back to Seoul after lunch,” 
“What? I thought you were staying for a few days?” You asked, looking at him. 
“Can’t,” Felix smiled. “You saw what Hyunjin did right? We’ll do the same once we get back to Seoul. The Jungs are making offenses now so we better do something. Those men were brought here to be punished. Don’t worry, Hyunjin will take care of you and there are a lot of guards around. We’ll be back soon to check up on you,” 
And so, they did. You hugged Felix tightly before he could get into the private jet. Such a shame that you didn’t get to spend some time with him when he’s only the one who made you feel welcome and comfortable. The others didn’t seem to grow on you at the time and left after saying goodbyes and reassured that they’d come back. Jeongin didn’t say a word to you ever since you came—even Changbin. 
“They don’t like me that much, right?” You asked Hyunjin as you stood together far away from the runway. 
“You can’t force someone to like a person who you just met,” Hyunjin answered with his hands in his pockets, watching the jet take off. “But Felix is already fond of you and maybe Seungmin,” He added and waited for the jet to disappear from your sight. You made sure you waved at them goodbye even if they wouldn’t be able to see that anymore and Hyunjin was assumed. “Let’s go,” 
“Will you kill someone again?” You asked making Hyunjin to stop when he was about to leave. 
“Not unless someone we don’t know comes in here, or a traitor,” He said as if it were nothing. Well, he’s an assassin for a reason. 
“You scared me back there, and last night,” You said, making Hyunjin turn to face you. 
“It is my job,” He said. “I do what I am asked to do. Don’t tell me you’re thinking that I’ll kill you too?” 
“No!” You answered immediately. “Just… just don’t drag me again when you shoot someone. Even if you ask me to turn around, I don’t want to be in the actual scene,” 
“I can’t promise you that,” He said. “You won’t survive alone unless you know how to use a gun to protect yourself,” And with that, he started to walk away leaving you sniffing on the verge of tears. 
**
You stayed inside your room during the early days ever since you got here. Hyunjin only sees you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner and then you disappear. He often spends his time at the shooting range—still practicing his skills (you could hear them) or sometimes you see him taking a stroll by the shore alone, from your bedroom’s window. It felt like living with a stranger. Which it is, to begin with. You don’t talk a lot, no Hi’s and Hellos, Good mornings and Goodnights, just a single nod and silence. 
How could you talk to him again when you dislike him? After all that happened and he’s being a bitch sometimes. You can’t understand him either. 
Hyunjin didn’t even wonder why it felt like you were his prisoner who voluntarily locks themself inside when you’re allowed to walk around. Of course, he knew how you feel about him. One apology wouldn’t heal your trauma. 
It felt lonely for him—it felt different way back to how he was living with his brothers in Seoul. But he asked for a vacation and this is it, minus the fact that he has to watch over you and you’re not amused with the situation. No WiFi, just old movies being downloaded that are on repeat, no calls and messages, except for Hyunjin, and just a bunch of books being piled in your room, some are found in the main living room. It’s like spending your summer at a summer camp where you’re supposed to reconnect with nature but the difference is, you’re always inside your room and living with a skilled assassin. 
Your phone is useless, your laptop is useless, and you are helpless. Sleeping is not an option anymore. You are bored and you are fighting the urge to speak to someone. You can’t even trust the staff working around here, how come you think about Hyunjin?
It was a Friday afternoon when you decided to drag yourself out of that prison and made your way toward the gate—heading to the shore. You were wearing a canary long-sleeved polo and beige shorts as you walked barefoot with a book in your hand. Unbeknownst to your presence, Hyunjin was walking at a distance. You sat on a small bench letting the gentle sunset warm up your skin and provide the bright rays to let you read. It is just a random book that caught your attention while walking around the house this morning. 
You started to read while crossing your legs, letting the wind play with your hair as you flipped the pages. Words to words, sentences to paragraphs, chapters to chapters. Hyunjin saw you at that time and just walked past by. And the same scenario keeps on happening every other afternoon until one Wednesday afternoon, he finally sat down beside you—making you startled. 
“Is that book entertaining?” He asked. 
“Barely,” You sighed. “There’s nothing much I can do around the house,” 
“For you, but I’m happy I’m here,” He said. “A break that I need,” 
“Good for you,” You sighed again. “Why are you talking to me?” 
“Because I’m bored?” He asked, being unsure. 
“You? Bored? Beats me,” You scoffed. 
“I am,” Hyunjin answered, rolling his eyes. “You’re bored, are you?” He asked. 
“Obviously,” You answered, closing the book. “I don’t spend my free time that well without an internet connection,” 
“Had to cut it off so they won’t find you,” Hyunjin answered. 
“I know,” You said, looking at the calm waves crashing on the shore. “Those men you shot the other day, what was their motive?” 
“They work for the Jungs. The man at the party was a spy. They probably shared your profile with everyone so they’d find you easily,” He started. “They were brought here after it was revealed that they’re the rats and came to the party with him,” 
“You were showing off when you killed them by the way,” You said which made him chuckle in response. “And if I didn’t know what you do, I would have sued you when I get out of here. You even called me Baby and kissed me. It made my heart leap. You shouldn’t do that,” 
“Oh, I did?” He smirked. “I just don’t like my property being touched by anyone else,” It made you want to jump into the water. How could he say that just like that?
“I’m not your property,” You hissed. “I am my own person,” 
“Baby, as long as you’re here, you are labeled as mine,” He said without removing that fucking attractive smirk on his face before leaving you alone and walking back to the gate. “Don’t stay out late, sweetheart,” He winked before he could even go in. 
“What a jerk,” You said under your breath—being a blushing mess. 
Dinner happened quietly as you sat across from each other. Only the steak knife, spoon, and fork were forced to make sounds along with the glasses being half-filled with wine. You tried to focus on your food and yet Hyunjin’s facial features made you take glances at him. It was hard not to look at him—remembering the fact that you find him attractive, that actually became the case. The crush thing wasn’t that serious—it only faded after it occurred. 
Hyunjin pretended as if he didn’t notice how you looked at him and when he caught you staring, you’d look away. He smiled to himself while munching his food while your head hung low. 
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, taking a sip of his wine. 
“I’ve seen them,” You answered, shoving a piece of steak in your mouth. 
“All of them?” He asked, being amused. 
“There are only a dozen,” You said. “I can watch 4-5 movies a day,” 
“I guess it’s true that you’re a home buddy,” He chuckled. 
“I am,” You answered. “There’s nothing for me to watch anymore,” 
“A night stroll?” 
“Too cold,” 
“Read a book?” 
“I just finished a trilogy, I’m tired,” 
“Sleep?” 
“Hyunjin, I don’t have anything to do the whole day, what makes you think that I won’t sleep if I’m not reading?” 
Hyunjin eventually gave up.
“What do you want to do then?” He asked. 
“I don’t know…” You answered, making Hyunjin sigh. 
“Alright, we’ll figure out what else we can do,” Hyunjin said then it made you notice a sudden change of attitude.
“You know what scares me more?” You asked. 
“What?”
“I know you murder people as a job, and that scares me, but you being hospitable and nice, scares me more,” You said, leaning onto the table and making him laugh. That’s unexpected, he’s cute. His eyes disappear as his mouth opens to laugh. He’s like a laughing weasel, but louder. 
“I’m not a bad person, Y/n,” He said. “I don’t do shits without a valid reason, I kill criminals. Not civilians. If I’d been careless, I would die without a gun,” You didn’t say anything after that, but you thanked him for dinner, and just like any other night, you went back to your room. 
It started raining a few moments after you got inside your room. It’s the first time you have ever experienced such a phenomenon and it’s scaring you too. It was unexpected to rain that night with thunder and lightning—they were all visible from your window, knowing that you were facing the ocean. The curtains don’t help to turn a blind eye out of it. You can’t even sleep, not even a blink. It was also cold despite your navy blue long-sleeved pajamas. 
Meanwhile, Hyunjin settled in his room, finishing the bottle of wine from dinner while scrolling through his phone—the data is only limited for him and does not let you know his connection to the outside world. It’s better to be safe than sorry. 
Emails kept on flooding his inbox, some came from his brothers and others were invitations to parties. There’s one of them where his presence is a must. But that doesn’t take place in two weeks. Who knows what will happen before the party? He doesn’t even know how to entertain you after all that happened during the past few days. And just like how you felt, you are strangers living under the same roof because of your family affairs. 
Hyunjin sighed in defeat as he placed his phone along with his glass on the side table, preparing to sleep—not minding the roaring sounds from the sky when he heard a knock on his door. You are terrified of the storm and can barely sleep. Having the lights on doesn’t help when the loud sounds of thunder make you flinch underneath the duvet. You don’t usually feel like this when you are still living in the city but being placed into a new environment makes it hard to adjust. Especially when they sound like the shots being fired. 
“Come in!” You heard Hyunjin say. 
It was also a hard decision. No one in this house can be trusted and the maids and other staff were dismissed after 8 p.m. He’s the only choice. You hesitated to go in, but you heard him—he’s probably waiting and not expecting you to be there. Either way, you opened the door with a pillow in one hand as you entered his room, feeling embarrassed and awkward. 
“What do you want?” He asked as you hesitated to speak up—biting your lower lip, Hyunjin saw the pillow in your left hand and landed his gaze on your face, waiting to say something. “What?” He asked. 
“C-can I sleep with you?” You asked as you felt your cheeks burning. Hyunjin stares at you for a few seconds before the thought of it sinks in which makes him smirk. You realized he was wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants. His collarbones were highly visible, hair disheveled for what reason? And that broad shoulders, damn—his arms made you want to experience being head locked. “I can’t sleep with the storm outside,” You added, trying not to be distracted. 
“Are you checking me out?” He asked, making you shake your head violently. 
“Deny it all you want. I can tell that you’re lying,” He said, cocking his head. 
“Okay!” You exclaimed. “I was,” You sighed in defeat as Hyunjin scoffed. 
“Come here baby,” He said, motioning his head—lifting his duvet for you to slide in. 
“Don’t call me baby!” You hissed at him. 
“Then, I won’t let you sleep with me,” He said, crossing his arms on his chest. 
“No! Wait,” You said. “Just tonight though,” 
“Just lay down,” He ordered as you slipped in under his covers—hugging your pillow with your body facing him. 
His bed smells like him. That strong intoxicating perfume he had at the party and the one he had the moment you arrived here. It’s kind of soothing. 
“Don’t mind me and just go to sleep,” You said but there’s no way that Hyunjin’s going to ignore you. “Good night,” You added, shutting your eyes—covering your face lightly with the pillow. 
“Good night,” Hyunjin said. 
He won’t be able to sleep for a while. 
**
Morning came as the gentle sunlight peeked through Hyunjin’s window. It woke you up as you were lying a meter beside the window—fluttering your eyes open as you made a small stretch. The pillow you had last night was already lying on the floor and you found Hyunjin’s body facing you. Your hand landed on your chest, clutching it to stop your heart from racing. He looks innocent when he sleeps, like an angel—half of his face is buried in his soft pillow, like a dumpling being squished. A handsome and cute young man, with a great body, veiny arms, and a tattoo on his right arm. A wolf’s head? 
The sunlight touched his skin which gave you a more detailed observation of his features. He looked so good up this close. You wondered if he ever dated anyone. It’s probably hard and dangerous, knowing his career at that. 
You sat up slowly trying not to wake him up. The sunlight was directed to his face which made you lift your hand a bit higher to cover him. Your eyes didn’t leave him and continued to stare, not like a creep, but someone who is mesmerized by his ethereal beauty. His plump lips that you want to kiss—shut up Y/n. You already got to taste his lips. Fuck. His long bangs resting on his cheek down to the bridge of his nose—your fingers gently pushed the strands behind his ears. Hyunjin felt as if he was just pretending to be asleep. 
“You’re beautiful,” You said softly. 
“I know, right?” He said in his morning voice. Fucking deep, and hoarse. “Don’t lie when I ask you if you’re checking me out,” 
“I’m not,” You denied, cheeks burning from the sight and feeling. Hyunjin opened his eyes and sat up. 
“I said, don’t lie,” He answered. 
“I said, I’m not,” You denied again making him look at you and leaned closer, whispering something to your ear.
“You’re a bad liar,” He said and walked straight to the bathroom leaving you dumbfounded and red. Meanwhile, he heard the door shut when he was about to take a shower. It made him smile to himself. Cute. 
A few moments later, he found you eating alone at the dining table. A chicken sandwich and a glass of milk—it is a luxury. Hyunjin came in his white robe with his hair still soaked from the shower. It almost made you choke on your food—but okay. 
“You’re not going out today?” You asked him. 
“Good morning, Y/n,” He said, walking past you—settling down on the seat from the other side of the table.
“Good morning,” You replied with a mouth full of bread. “So are you going out or not?”
“Not this morning,” He answered, taking a bite of his food. “Why? Do you want me to leave?” 
“No. I’m lonely and you’re literally the only person I talk to,” You said, taking a sip of your milk. 
“I’m taking the cabin cruiser this afternoon. Want to join me?” He asked. 
“You have a mini yacht?” You asked, amused at how rich this family is. 
“Of course, Minho Hyung lent it to me,” He said as if it was nothing. 
“Can I go? Pretty please? I’ve never been on one,” You asked again with puppy eyes and pouty lips. Hyunjin looked so done with the expression and made a side-eye. But he doesn’t want to be bitch so there he goes. 
“Sure, you might die if I leave you,” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes in response. 
**
The afternoon sunset is the most beautiful scene on this island. It is breathtaking that you never get tired of looking at it every day. You barely witness this kind of phenomenon knowing that you work like a dog during the weekdays and sleep on your days off. It’s a waste of being alive not to enjoy the life of being an actual adult. 
It is indeed a nice place to spend your summer with a book in hand while in the middle of the sea and going with Hyunjin could be one of the best times you’ll ever have. You don’t know the rest and you’re not expecting anything good after that. He already hopped inside the cabin cruiser as you were assisted by one of the bodyguards. He said it will only be you and him to the sea while they wait by the shore. 
The wind got stronger when you settled inside as Hyunjin was driving it. Black high-waisted shorts and a white polo top, brown sandals, and sunglasses on the crown of your head—Hyunjin thought you were cute but he didn’t need to say that. You sat down at the back, admiring the view while feeling the summer breeze. It was a delicate warmth that touched your skin as it boosted your serotonin—almost making you decide not to leave. 
“Are you in for a swim?” Hyunjin asked. 
“No! I can’t swim!” You answered. 
“What a bummer!” He said. 
“I know!” 
Not after a while, you felt the boat stop in the middle of the sea as Hyunjin made his way toward the deck. 
“What are you doing?” You asked, standing up from your seat—taking your small bag (which holds your sunblock and an unfinished book). 
“Swimming,” He said and started unbuttoning his blue-striped polo. You had to look away before attempting to climb on deck. “Are you sure you won’t join me?” 
“Hyunjin, if I knew how to swim then I would,” You answered. 
“Suit yourself,” He said before jumping into the water as you climbed up—taking a seat on deck catching him rising above water while wiping his face. “The water is so nice! You’re missing out!” 
“I’m fine right here!” You defended, taking the book out from your bag and started to read, not minding how long he’d take to swim the entire ocean if he wanted to. 
He caught you taking glances at him as he swam around the boat while you were trying to read. The wind kept blowing your hair away as the book flipped its pages on its own. Your head hangs low as you avoid any eye contact Hyunjin would randomly give each time he rises—running his hands, brushing his hair upwards. Which is hot, especially with that body—that washboard abs being molded by the heavens—damn you Hwang Hyunjin. He never fails to make you blush. 
You managed to read a chapter without getting distracted but were surprised when Hyunjin decided to get back up through the swim platform, heading to the deck. He was soaked and droplets of water from his clothes and hair were making you wet, including the pages of the book. You tsked at the sight of it as he picked up his shirt with a towel at hand before sitting down next to the empty spot beside you while drying his hair. 
“You smell like seaweed,” You said. “Had enough of the ocean?” 
“It was just a quick swim,” He defended. 
“I read an entire chapter so it was quite a while,” You shrugged. “Thanks for asking me to join you by the way. I could’ve died in boredom back there,” 
“You’re welcome,” He smiled for the first time which made your heart warm. 
You didn’t know what to say after that and just let him dry his hair, not minding how he kept sprinkling seawater on you. But some things were bothering you at that very moment—his tattoo and the gang war that is currently happening. You haven’t heard from his brothers for a week now and you’re worried. Maybe Hyunjin still have connections with them but at the same time, you don’t have any contact with the outside world. You don’t know what’s going on as you sit there, watching the sunset. 
Hyunjin didn’t say a word too but he kept on making noises about how bad the seawater affected the smoothness of his hair. It became frizzy after all the salt it consumed. He hasn’t changed his clothes either and is still topless. You shoved the book back into your bag, putting it away as you sighed—eyes wandering around the horizon. Such a beautiful view. 
“Can I ask you something?” You started. 
“Hmm?” Hyunjin hummed in response. 
“What’s going to happen to me after you get rid of the Jungs?” You asked, looking at him as he stopped drying his hair. 
“That would depend on you,” He answered. “We kept you heir to continue the legacy and when everyone’s gone, it’s either you give everything your parents left behind to us and forget about this, or be part of us.” He added as you sighed heavily—looking back at the horizon. “It’s a hard decision since we dropped a bomb on you but still, it’s in your hands,” 
“Seems like a big responsibility, Hyunjin,” You answered. 
“You have a lot of time to decide, Y/n. It doesn’t matter how long,” Hyunjin smiled. 
“I wish someone told me sooner,” You sighed. “What about that tattoo on your left arm,” 
“Ah, this?” He chuckled, showing you a wolf’s head as if it was howling—imprinted on his forearm. “It’s an emblem. All of my brothers have one. We identify as Wolves since we don’t share the same surnames. It’s Chan Hyung’s favorite animal,” 
“Oh, so that’s why those men you killed called you Wolves?” You asked as he nodded in response. “You guys are cool,” 
“You think so?” He chuckled. 
“Yeah, and the other clan is simply Jungs. Basic,” You shrugged. “Did your brothers tell anything that they’re visiting?”
“Not yet, they’re busy,” Hyunjin sighed. “So it will be just you and me on this island for quite some time,” 
“That’s fine. I just hope they’re okay,” You smiled before standing up to get a closer look at the water. Hyunjin followed you, peeking down below where the anchor was. Then, an idea came into his mind where he playfully tried to push you off the railings making you squeal in shock, but his arms were wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. “Hey! That’s not funny,” You scolded as he laughed in response. 
“Your reaction was so cute,” He said making your cheeks heat up. 
“Was it?” You chuckled in response. “I would kill you if I fell,” 
“You won’t,” He said. 
“Oh yeah? Try me,” You smirked as Hyunjin let you go and started chasing you around, laughing at each other when you slipped because of the excess seawater he brought after swimming and fell. 
“Y/n! Fuck!” He hissed under his breath and dived in while you were trying to keep your head above water with your arms splashing and flapping around. Hyunjin caught you with one of his arms as the other one made the effort to take you to the swim platform at the back of the cabin cruiser. You were out of breath when Hyunjin took you out of the water—coughing in between. “Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry,” He said being worried as fuck. He didn’t mean to. 
“I’m fine,” You coughed, taking a seat as he sighed harshly. 
“I’m sorry,” He said taking an extra towel to wrap around your wet body. 
“It’s fine, Hyunjin, stop it,” You said, hugging yourself. “Thanks,” Hyunjin sighed again and sat beside you—taking all the strands of hair that were covering your face. You were watching him do it, not realizing you were staring at his lips and remembered how they felt when they were on yours. It was an intoxicating one. You gulped at the thought. He was also drying your hair, slowly twisting the water out of it when his eyes caught where you were looking at. 
“Y/n,” He called but you didn’t budge. You were too focused on how his lips quiver when he is worried and how they move when he speaks. “Y/n!” 
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, coming back to him. 
“Did the seawater clog your ears?” He chuckled. “You were staring,” 
“I’m sorry,” You said as a smirk painted on his lips. You felt his hands on your cheeks as he looked into your eyes, slowly leaning closer which made you freeze on your spot—closing your eyes just in case he’d kiss you. Your heart is racing again. What is happening to you? But instead of expecting a kiss, you heard him laugh instead, making you push him away. 
“Don’t tease me like that,” You sighed, not until he moved closer crashing his lips onto yours. 
Your hand reached his jaw as your thumb started caressing his cheek while you felt his right arm pulling you closer to his body. The kiss was so hot and intimate that you forgot about falling from the cabin cruiser and as Hyunjin deepened the kiss with your lips molding together, and your arms were already around his neck. Your bodies were pressed together—his plump lips were soft and warm, just like the first time but without the alcohol leaving an aftertaste. Your lips parted slowly allowing his tongue to slip in as your noses brushed against each other while tilting your head to the sides. Your heart never stopped racing. 
Hyunjin felt weird. It wasn’t like this during the first time. That kiss was sudden and no lingering feelings unlike what you have right now. Maybe it was how you opened up to him slowly the puppy eyes you showed this morning, or the fact that he once kissed you and that he couldn’t take you out of his mind even though he shouldn’t be feeling any emotions after that. He finds you attractive, that’s a plus—or was it the way you hugged him when you got sacred or the fact that you buried your face against his chest and hugged him while you were sleeping which you are not aware of? Or maybe that time when he woke up first and stared at you this morning and the other day when you slept in his room during the first night. It can be the way you looked at the party or how stupid you were when you got drunk, blabbering nonsense inside his car. He’s confused. 
He felt his heart racing too as you hugged him tightly, not knowing how many seconds that have passed when your lips were against each other. It was filled with astonishment for the both of you but it felt more than that, not until you pulled away for some air—leaving you all red and hot. Hyunjin was left hanging as he looked away. He thought it was a good move the second time. 
“I-I’m gonna go and change,” You said and was about to stand up when Hyunjin grabbed your wrist.
“You didn’t bring any clothes,” You heard him say. Stupid!
“Right,” You said, looking at his large hand, wrapped around your wrist. “Can you let go now? Dry yourself,” 
“I hope that kiss won’t change anything,” He said as you stood there. 
“I will,” You said. 
“What?” He asked, looking up at you. 
“My feelings,” You answered as Hyunjin finally stood up. “You did it the second time without warning,” 
“And that’s a problem?” He asked. Bitch. 
“The first one was,” You argued. “I mean…” 
“You mean what, do you like me?” He asked, grabbing your shoulders for you to look at him. 
“You need to try harder,” You said, locking eyes with him. 
“So am I allowed to kiss you even without permission?” He asked again, brushing some strands of your hair behind your ear. 
“You did them anyway,” You answered. “But I’m still not sure about how I feel about you. I’m still scared, Hyunjin,” 
“Y/n, you can trust me,” He argued. 
“I know that!” You sighed. “But let’s take a raincheck, shall we?” 
“I can wait,” He said, letting you go, and left for the wheel to take you two back to the island.
The awkward atmosphere came back as you two became distant again. It feels the same during the first days you lived together but with the knowledge that you two are interested yet unsure about each other’s feelings. Hyunjin came back to his usual routine by being in shooting range while you stayed by the shore every afternoon to read. No words were exchanged, just glances and awkward dinners. Yet, it wasn’t long enough that another storm came that one night. This time, more terrifying. The trauma that the brothers have left you didn’t go away even if Hyunjin was able to get inside your walls and be friends with you (with a kiss as a tip). 
You found yourself outside his room again, knocking on his door with a pillow in hand. Hyunjin didn’t even expect a lot of you to come here after what happened yet it seemed like the storm was getting inside your head. You couldn’t sleep—you couldn’t sleep properly ever since what happened at the cabin cruiser. It’s hard to go to sleep when your heart is racing, your cheeks burning, and having an unsure situationship with Hwang Hyunjin. 
He became vulnerable ever since he saw you that evening and it became worse when you slept with him, much worse when you kissed, and now this. 
He was wearing a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up onto his shoulders showing his muscular arms and black shorts. His black hair was messy and his eyes were tired from not being able to sleep during the past nights. Same reason though, but with more feelings. He forgot about himself being an assassin but a lover boy. 
“Can’t sleep?” He asked as he stared at you, wearing that white long dress and barefooted. 
“Yes,” You said softly, closing the door behind you. 
“Lay down,” He answered, cocking his head to the empty spot beside him. 
You walked slowly as you reached his bed, lifting the thick duvet—slipping inside, and laid down beside him. Hyunjin just watched you move as he stayed still on his spot—sitting on his side of the bed. The wind is cold as it enters through his window being left ajar. His room was dim and only the two lamps from each side of the bed were the ones switched on. Still, you could see his handsome features which you thought were perfectly molded by the gods. A son of Aphrodite with a great body, almost like Poseidon. His eyes fixated on you as you were looking back at him. 
Nobody said a word—he wanted to, but nothing came out of his mouth. He became different. So different from the first time you met. He was a man who curses a lot and was hot-tempered, now he’s quiet and distant. This island is supposed to bring you two closer, that’s what you thought after being stuck here with him. But the thing is, the brothers brought you here to protect you—not seducing Hyunjin.
You weren’t used to it and that fucking kisses you shared were special—you thought about it a lot. It was immaculate, one of a kind. He’s a good kisser to be exact. It was out of the plan that you two should fall in love. But after days of having to deal with each other’s presence, apparently, you two grew closer. You just don’t know how to continue this relationship by ignoring the changes in the atmosphere. 
“Have you dated anyone?” You asked. That was a stupid question. Really? That’s the first thing you’re going to ask him? 
“Hmm, maybe when I was in college but it didn’t work out,” He said. “Nothing worked out, it’s too crucial for my job,” 
“So you’ve been doing this since then?” 
“Since I turned 20,” He said. “Not really long ago. Why do you ask?” 
“Nothing, just curious,” You answered as he laid down, covering his body with the duvet—facing you. “Were you sad?” 
“No,” He said, not breaking eye contact. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea and I’m waiting for you,” He added, reaching out his hand to caress your hair. 
“I gave it a thought,” You said softly while watching him. “I like you is an understatement. Everything happened so fast and I’m not sure if I’m being valid or not. You fall in love with strangers even without knowing their names, you hook up with someone you just met because you have a lot of feelings, and you’re reckless with someone you don’t know so why does it feel like you’re in a rush within two weeks of getting to know each other after you kissed?” Then Hyunjin stopped as a smile formed on his face. 
“Do you want it that way?” He asked. “Rushed?” You shake your head in response. 
“I want to date you, so bad,” You told him. “I’ve been lonely for a very long time and spending time with you made it bearable. I’m not used to having someone around and I’m not sure how to handle these feelings. I don’t care if you kill people for a job, you make me feel important even if it’s part of your job too,” You added as he watched your lips quiver as if you were confessing under the influence of alcohol. “I’m a newbie in everything, I don’t know how to have fun. I hope you don’t find me weird, I am stupid I know that but I’m thankful that you managed to put up with my shit the first time we met. I used to think you’re a jerk but you ended up being a different person to me and yet you’re still that Hyunjin I had a crush on that night of the party,” Then, his smile grew bigger as he started feeling giddy about it. He leaned closer to kiss your forehead which lasted for a few seconds as he pulled you closer to his body—hugging you tight. 
“Let’s not rush, baby,” He said as you buried your face on his neck. “But things will work out for us, I promise,” He added, kissing your temple. 
“You won’t let yourself be in danger because of me, right?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“I’m here to protect you, okay? Nothing will happen as long as I’m with you,” He reassured which made you a bit emotional. 
Getting attached to him in a short period is between a mistake and a good choice. Letting your guard down was easy but having to think about the consequences of this situation, you will either cry or suffer. No positive outcomes. 
“Just… don’t die,” You said, making him laugh in response. 
“I won’t,” He said as he gave you a peck on the lips. “I will kill them first,” It tugged a smile on your face. 
Who knew that someone you once thought a jerk and a murderer became dear and precious to your heart? 
** 
Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer than ever. You’d take a stroll by the shore before sunset and throw stones—the person who gets to throw the shortest distance gets to be flicked on the forehead. He would hold your hand—interlocking your fingers together as you swing them back and forth while taking a stroll by the shore on a sunny afternoon. Kicking sand, building sandcastles, or just talking with wine and whiskey for a picnic as you watch the sunset together. 
Sometimes he’d join you reading under the shade of a large tree in the garden where he lays his head on your lap as you read. There were also times when he would trash his space a meter away just to paint you while you were reading—or if you two got bored, he’d invite you to the shooting range trying to teach you how to use a pistol. 
“Focus on the target!” He’d say as you were standing meters away from the shooting target. “If you manage to shoot the red spot over there, then you’re almost like me,” 
It was fun—dangerous even. You were unsure about the idea but Hyunjin was persistent to teach you. He offered earmuffs and ballistic glasses for you to use. Your hands were shaking as the bullets hit the spots far from the red spot he’s been talking about. 
“Not that, Y/n,” He sighed. Hyunjin already taught you how to disassemble and assemble the pistol, and also elaborated on the parts, how many bullets to fit in, and how to reload. Now you’re here as he stood behind you—arms aligned with yours as he held your hands to take them into the right position. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he instructed you what to do and you tried not to get distracted by it. “Focus, love,” 
“I will if you’re not breathing on my neck,” You said. 
“You’ll get more than me just breathing on your neck when you do a good job,” He answered. “Now look at the target and shoot,” Then suddenly, continuous sounds of shots being fired were heard through the island. Even the birds flew away from the trees in disruption. His lessons lasted for days until you were able to shoot the red spot in the middle. A kiss would do as a reward. 
You’ve spent your days without the thought of what was actually going on. You forgot why you were sent here and being with Hyunjin felt like you’re finally having a life out of work. You didn’t mind watching the movies being piled on the coffee table all over again as the two of you would cuddle on the couch, laughing and crying from the same plot. I’d take you until 4 am and fall asleep in each other’s arms. He didn’t mind them at all—in fact, he enjoys his time being with you—which he is, in the first place. 
Kisses were given at random times. 
A peck on the lips when you wake up and before going to sleep—you two sleep together in his room now. He’d kiss your forehead when you fall asleep while watching a movie as he caresses your hair—staring at you as if you’re the most precious treasure in his life. Long kisses when you sit on his lap while you are talking about how your life was crazy as he’d stare at your lips moving nonstop—a hand on your waist as he tackled you down, hovering above you as he presses his lips onto yours, feeling his hot breath and tasting the recent drink he had. Bodies pressed together with your hand around his nape—his tongue pressed on your slightly parted lips leaving ticklish licks making you giggle in between, hearts racing and adrenaline rush. 
It came naturally. 
“Let’s not rush,” That’s what he said. It was crystal clear but you are acting like a couple during the early phase of a relationship. But that didn’t matter to you anymore. It felt rushed, that’s the point but who cares? After letting your guard down, it’s hard to stand up again. Hyunjin got you wrapped up around his fingers. One small argument would lead to a kiss and make-up afterward. That’s one idea of how you easily give up. 
“Love,” He called as you both lay on his bed on a Thursday night. 
“Hmm?” You hummed in response as your head placed on his chest, listening to his calm heartbeat while his arms wrapped around your back. 
“I got invited to a party,” He answered—kissing the crown of your head. 
“You’re leaving?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. 
“Yes but you’re coming with me,” He said, leaving a peck on your lips. “You know I can’t leave you here alone. We’re going home to the mansion,” 
“When are we leaving?” 
“Tomorrow morning,” He said. 
“That’s so soon,” You answered. “Are we coming back here?” 
“Depends,” He chuckled. “We can spend the night in your apartment after the party. I’ll make sure no one will know,” He added, kissing the tip of your nose. 
“Okay,” You said, giving him a peck on the lips. A small smile formed on his lips as he locked eyes with you with his fingers tracing your bottom lip in an attempt for a kiss. 
Your faces lean closer as your lips meet—feeling your noses brushed against each other. Hearts racing once again and blood rushes through your veins. Hyunjin made you lay down flat on your back, meeting his soft mattress covered in beige-colored bed sheets fresh from the laundry. Your heads tilted on different sides as he hovered above you once again, with a hand on your cheek—deepening the kiss. His lips tangled with yours, feeling each other’s hot breaths sending electric shocks all over your body. His kiss felt different from the other ones you’ve had. It seemed hungry and desperate. 
Your eyes closed, bodies pressing together then a soft sound was heard from you when you felt his lips on your neck, leaving wet kisses and biting your skin gently. 
“What are you doing?” You asked as his kisses traveled down to your collarbones yet you could not still make eye contact with him. 
“Shh,” You heard him say before his lips met yours again to shut you up. You felt his fingers slip inside your shirt, tracing your bare skin—slipping them inside your heart-printed pajamas to your black laced panties while never leaving your lips alone. It sent butterflies in your stomach and it became worse when you felt his fingers rubbing against your wetness. “I didn’t do anything that much yet and you’re already this wet?” 
It was awkward, you that but how can you blame yourself? 
Hyunjin pulled away as he yanked off his tank top, revealing his physique—giving you a closer look. His legs were parted as your hips lay between them. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight which he finds cute. His lips met yours again, slowly lifting your shirt which you willingly let him. You started breathing faster against his lips when he started removing your pajamas, only leaving you with the black undergarments. 
He started sucking and biting your lips as he went back on tracing his fingers from your chest, traveling down inside your panties, feeling your wetness. You let out a soft sound as a reaction to his touch. His long fingers touching your slit are already leaving your mind blank. You are confused and don’t know what to feel. You’ve read about this a lot but never get the chance on having to apply it to yourself. His lips never left yours as you let him take your panties off, not a long moment after because he was annoyed with the feeling of the fabric—limiting his actions. 
He parted your legs as you exhaled when you felt his kisses travel on your inner thighs—it drove you crazy when his tongue reached your wet pussy licking and kissing it emphatically. Arching your back as a response, the sounds you make are like music to his ears. It felt so good and hot at the same time. His eyes were watching your reactions as your mouth gapped when started eating you out. Your hands traced his bedsheets, crumpling them for you to hold on tightly.
“God, you’re so wet,” He said as his fingers were dugged into your bare skin, leaving nail marks—slowly pushing his tongue inside. 
“Oh!” You breathed out, feeling his tongue inside your walls—your heart was pounding above rate as he never stopped pushing in and out. He felt your hand grabbing his hair making him go deeper with his tongue. It was a weird feeling as your toes curled at the sensation and you loved it. Hyunjin noticed you’re taking it well and he didn’t stop sooner. 
One of his hands slipped inside your bra, squeezing your breast against the thick fabric. It fits his hand well. His lips kissed your dripping cunt as he went up to your stomach until he reached your neck, biting down lightly—sucking it, trying to find your sweet spot. You felt his hands on your back, unhooking your bra and getting rid of it on the floor. He was amused with your body, it was perfect. It fits perfectly for him. 
“You don’t just have a pretty face, but this body too,” He said in between his kisses on your neck, leaving marks as he heard you moan. His growing bulge is pressing against your hips through his sweatpants. You were panting heavily when he found your sweet spot, causing you to curse him which let out a soft chuckle before taking your lips again. Your nipples hardened when his fingers accidentally brushed them after unhooking your bra—you whimpered softly when he pinched them, slowly pulling your sensitive buds just to tease you out of it. 
“Fuck,” You hissed under your breath. 
He couldn’t take it anymore. His dick is throbbing inside his pants, upon seeing you fully naked. Hyunjin pulled away as he shoved his sweatpants down on his knees and pulled your hips closer to his. Your face turned red upon seeing his hardened dick up close—you licked your lips biting it before seeing the smirk being plastered on his face. 
“Do you want me to continue?” He asked. 
“Please,” You pleaded.
Feeling the adrenaline rush, Hyunjin rubbed his cock against your cunt—feeling the friction. Your back met his soft mattress again as he slowly slipped his length inside you, hissing when he realized he was the first one to touch you. 
“Fuck,” It hurts, now he knows what to do. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he started to thrust himself inside out as gently as he could yet it caused your eyes to roll back—making sinful sounds. You gasped at the feeling as you were breathing faster. He brought his lips to your nipples as his tongue swirled around the buds before sucking them making you moan in response. “Oh, God,” 
He suddenly moved a bit faster which made you go insane. The continuous lustful sounds you make urge him to change his pace. Your legs spread wide indulging the pain and pleasure between them as tears started forming in your eyes—nails dugged into his bare back making red marks visible. Hyunjin growled in response as he went faster making you cry. His lips met yours again, devouring them like no other man could. 
Hyunjin sweats easily, making his bangs soaked from all the movements he did. His lips became hotter and plump than before. It’s intoxicating as you could taste your wetness in his mouth with your tongues tangled. He had to turn you around as you were on your knees with your face buried in the pillows—screaming his name feeling high when he started fucking you from behind. Hands tied on your back as your skin slapped against each other. One hand around your neck as the other one locks your wrists together. You are being railed for the first time. 
The bed was creaking and he never stopped. He loves it as you were taking his cock so well that it drives him crazy. Your screams were all over the place as you moaned his name repeatedly cursing along with it. But not long after, he started to feel his orgasm coming so close that he had to pull himself out—stroking himself before spilling them out on your back. You lay on your back again realizing his sheets were already wet. It sent butterflies in his stomach seeing you fucked up as you pant in exhaustion. 
“Are you good?” He asked, planting a soft kiss on your lips as you nodded in response. 
“Just tired,” You smiled. 
“Did it hurt?” He asked again, making you red as a cherry. 
“It did,” You sighed. “Did you do this before?” 
“Maybe,” Hyunjin chuckled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He said, kissing your forehead before lifting you as he made his way to the bathroom. 
**
“Love?” It was Hyunjin’s voice that woke you up after a deep slumber. The fact that you got tired from what happened last night made you fall asleep in his arms quickly. Sadly, you didn’t want to get up and stay in bed the whole day but for sure he’s going to drag you out any time now. 
“Hmm?” You hummed in response—fluttering your eyes open. 
“Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour,” He said softly as he caressed your cheek. His body was blocking the sunlight that entered through the window as he sat down on your side of the bed. It was a sweet good morning—the way you kissed his palm for a response while closing your eyes, Hyunjin’s heart fluttered inside. “I’ll have your breakfast ready, okay?” He added, kissing your forehead. 
“Okay,” You smiled. 
“Okay,” He answered—leaving the room, and closing the door behind him. 
You let out a heavy sigh and got up to do your morning routine then it led you to some thoughts. Doing things like what couples usually do and yet Hyunjin and you didn’t put any labels until now. You love him, that’s a fact. This is probably because of the things he does—maybe his job or whatever. It is hard to commit and he thought that maybe having a blooming relationship without any labels yet, could be considered as a reassurance that he will pursue you. 
Like what you said, like is an understatement. It doesn’t sort everything in place. Like is not enough and flings are just trash. 
You found yourself again at the mansion. Felix welcomed you with a tight hug and Seungmin plastered a smile on his face while wearing those glasses on the bridge of his nose which you didn’t notice before. Chan was waiting in his office and Hyunjin left you there with them. Felix had a lot to talk about when he brought you to the main living room. There were no changes for almost 3 weeks that you were gone. The same Seoul City where you grew up but the life you once had disappeared in the blink of an eye. 
Hyunjin sat in front of Chan’s desk as Seungmin placed a pile of papers in front of him. Minho on the other hand placed a small envelope on the top of it. Those were signs—signs that he had to go on a mission again and the party that he was invited to is one. They were discussing something important inside as Felix tried to entertain you. It feels good to have him around, you missed him too even if you just talked for less than 24 hours when you left. You also wondered why they didn’t come to visit you on the island. 
“So, how did your break go?” He asked. It wasn’t a break, for sure. It was called hiding and falling in love with his brother. 
“It was fine. I got a little bored but Hyunjin and I got along,” You answered. 
“I’m happy to know!” He beamed. “Ah, there’s a party tomorrow night. Hyunjin is invited,” 
“He mentioned it,” You answered. 
“It will be an ambush for sure,” Felix said. “That’s why we’re going too, unidentified,” 
“Felix,” You called. “My parents didn’t do something illegal when they were alive, right?” 
“As far as I know, they knew about the money laundering and corruption circling the city. Even illegal businesses such as human trafficking, exploiting endangered animals, and sponsoring people who use illegal substances. There are big names involved so they were tracking them down, unfortunately, your relatives support these crimes and turned their backs on the organization. They also knew about property ownership and businesses your parents ran to help big companies provide jobs, sponsor children’s education, and donate to schools and other institutions. But you know how this economy works right? There are big names on the list who put the money in their pockets and invest them in the black market,” He explained. “The Jungs wanted to take our properties away so they can make more money out of it and they’re planning to flee the country once you’re dead and take the money with them. Then these businesses and land ownership will be handed down to their right hands and just wait for a large sum of money to be delivered to their bank accounts,” 
“That’s worse, huh,” You sighed in defeat. 
“You have so much to learn once we get rid of them. You will inherit everything,” He said. 
“That’s a big responsibility, Felix,” 
“I know,” Felix answered. “But we’re here to help. Seungmin can make them yours one order away, he’s going to be your lawyer once everything is done, and Minho Hyung, your adviser. That’s what we do in this family,” 
That’s what we do in this family. 
That’s all the reassurance you need. Maybe Hyunjin, taking you here the night of the party isn’t bad after all. 
Meanwhile, at Chan’s office, the rest of the brothers have gathered. 
“There will be an ambush waiting for you,” Minho said as he sat down on the empty chair beside Hyunjin. 
“Felix got the list of names for the party the other day,” Chan added. “Those documents have their profiles along with the list,” 
“And the Jungs will be there?” Hyunjin asked. 
“We are expecting them,” Seungmin said. 
“Now, what do we do for this type of occasion, Jeongin?” Chan asked the youngest.
“Ms. Jung’s uncle will be there and the rest of his family. He got a few men to join him at the party. Some will be undercover so the rest of us will come unidentified,” Jeongin answered. “Ms. Jung will be our bait, so you need to bring her as your plus one,” 
“Good, and?” Chan asked. 
“We’re going to wait if Mr. Jung will take the bait. He will recognize his niece for sure. You just need to be alert, Hyunjin hyung,” Jeongin said. “Changbin hyung got the blueprint of the venue for the event, there will be surveillance cameras everywhere, however, there are a few blind spots so we can enter the venue without getting caught. We just need to blend in, afterward,” 
“The party is tomorrow night so we still have time to prepare,” Changbin said. “Our target is Mr. Jung,” 
“What about his men, the wife, and the kids?” Hyunjin asked, rubbing his chin. 
“Terminate them all, the wife and kids will be sent to another country, and they will be banned from entering Korea,” Han added. “Seungmin already prepared the documents to file a case against them,” 
“Okay,” Hyunjin exhaled. 
“Seungmin, tell Felix to bring Y/n here,” 
“Yes Sir,” 
The night fell as you were studying the documents Seungmin gave you inside Hyunjin’s room. Felix and he were there to explain everything and help you identify who’s who, their crimes, their work, who they work for, and what type of business they run underground. It was A LOT and it’s dizzying. 
It’s okay, you graduated top of your class and with flying colors, this is nothing more than your thesis and practicals. 
Hyunjin was nowhere to be found at that moment and you were just listening to Seungmin and Felix talk. It distracted you for hours until they left, late at night. Hyunjin suddenly appeared before midnight. He entered the room with a large box and a translucent garment bag with his black suit in it. 
“Where have you been?” You asked, standing up from the bed—approaching him. 
“Shopping,” He said, throwing his suit on his bed as he handed the large box to you. 
“You didn’t invite me,” You pout, making him leave a peck on your lips. 
“Chan said you were busy,” He smiled. “That’s for you, open it,” 
“Really?” It was a silver mermaid floral spaghetti strap long dress. Your mouth gaps upon seeing it as it looks more expensive than the dress you wore at the first party. It was silky as it shone when the light touched the fabric. “It’s so pretty,” 
“Ah, I know, I have the best eyes,” He said proudly. “I knew you would like it,” 
“I do!” You exclaimed. “How did you know my size?” 
“I read your profile, remember? I didn’t forget,” He answered as you kissed him. 
“Thank you,” You said as he stood there frozen on his spot making him a blushing mess. 
“You’re welcome,” He was flustered, yes and you find it cute because he is. 
Fast forward an hour before the party, the brothers waited for you to come down by the main living room. They were all wearing suits, all black as usual and you were nervous about how they would react when they saw you like this. Surprisingly, you did well in taking care of your hair and make-up. It’s always been like this so you study them yourself. Hyunjin was excited and the rest were anticipating—taking a deep breath, you reached the top of the stairs, slowly walking down on each step because of those damn heels. 
Han was the first one to notice you and stood up making everyone do the same. Chan thought it wasn’t bad, Changbin and Minho thought you were good while Jeongin was surprisingly stunned by your beauty. Hyunjin was about to go crazy leaving Seungmin and Felix noticed something, most especially Felix, he’s an intel for a reason and Seungmin can sense a special connection. 
“You look beautiful, Y/n,” Han said. 
“Thank you,” You smiled at him, feeling flustered as Hyunjin took your hand, kissing the back of it. 
“Charming as always,” He said. 
“Save you flirting on a later date Hwang,” Seungmin scolded. 
“Yeah, also, try to keep it inside your pants for the whole evening,” Felix laughed, making Hyunjin glare at them. 
“What the fuck?” He hissed. 
“We know something happened on that island but we won’t ask,” Seungmin shrugged as your lips formed into a thin line out of embarrassment. How did these guys know? Ah, yes, the guards. 
“Let’s go,” Chan said out of nowhere as they all obliged to take their way out. “Hyunjin, you know what to do,” 
“Yes, Sir,” Hyunjin bowed as he assisted you to his car. 
“What is it?” You asked, taking a seat as he locked your seatbelt. 
“Nothing, just enjoy the party—alright?” He smiled, leaving a peck on your lips as he started driving. “You’re aware that your uncle would be there right?” 
“Yes,” You answered. 
“Whatever happens, I want you to leave immediately. Jeongin will take you somewhere safe but as long as the party goes on, stick with me the whole time unless I tell you otherwise, alright?” He instructed as you nodded in response. “Good,” 
You and Hyunjin entered the venue while Chan and the rest of the Wolves parked a block away. It was to avoid being noticed by the Jungs as they used a secret passageway. The blueprint Felix had was helpful enough to find blindspots around the area, guns being loaded—hidden behind their blazer as they patiently waited to be used. 
Minho was right, there was an ambush waiting for Hyunjin and your uncle saw you with him unbeknownst about the bait. His eyes were checking the place discreetly as the other Wolves scattered around the area—exchanging voice messages to their earpiece and mics. Felix walked past behind your uncle upstairs as he was on standby looking at his precious niece and Hyunjin. 
“Target locked, he’s by the railings watching Hyunjin and Y/n,” Felix whispered to his mic. 
“Copy that,” Jeongin answered as he was standing by the counter. “Two men are here, they have tattoos with Jung’s emblem, Snakes,” 
“I got four men here by the pool,” Changbin answered. 
“Stay close,” Chan said, walking on a blind spot, cocking his pistol secretly as he observed Mr. Jung’s wife and two kids. 
“Hyung, I think we’re outnumbered,” Han said, walking by a group of guards who were obviously from the rival gang. 
“Fuck,” Minho hissed from the other side. 
“Hyunjin stay alert,” Seungmin said, taking a glass of whiskey beside Jeongin. 
“Copy,” Hyunjin answered, before turning into you. “Do you want to drink, Love?” 
“No,” You said, immediately refusing. “Remember the first time we met? I vomited in your car and it smells so bad,” You added, making Hyunjin chuckle in response. 
“Okay, okay,” He said. “I’ll get something for me on the counter, alright,” He added before leaning closer to whisper something. “You know what to do,”  You just hummed in response as Hyunjin left you in the middle of the dance floor, Mr. Jung signaled one of his men to come closer and whispered something before going downstairs. 
Felix stood behind them and heard the conversation, immediately sending a distress message to everyone. 
“Incoming to Ms. Jung,” Felix said. “He’s approaching the bait,” 
“Jeongin, stand close to Y/n,” Hyunjin said, cocking his head at the youngest as Jeongin immediately left. 
The moon is shining bright in the sky along with the luminous stars twinkling like sparkles. You stood in the middle of the dancefloor aware of Jeongin’s presence. The party is like a ball where the people who were invited are filthy rich—Hyunjin was invited because he donates money to fashion institutions and charity events. The host used to be a family friend but Hyunjin only came here for the sake of Mr. Jung’s undeserving life. 
The ball is glamorous indeed—it is the theme of the party, and the lights are dim as they rely on the moonlight and lanterns surrounding the dancefloor. It was packed. Most of these people are unknown to you and the only target you should focus on is your uncle. But then, he was out of sight. 
“Ah, cousin!” A stranger’s voice was heard as he came in your direction. You tilt your head upon seeing the person who became familiar after reading about the family members of the Jungs. 
Wooyoung. 
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked. 
“Felix, I thought Mr. Jung was going to take the bait! Not his son!” Han half-yelled to his mic. 
“I’m following him as we speak, he’s going to the basement,” Felix whispered in an attempt to follow the target without being noticed. “Send me Changbin hyung,” 
That came unexpectedly—Wooyoung has a big smile on his face right now while clapping his hands in amusement with two bodyguards behind him. Jeongin was alerted. 
“Hyunjin hyung, Wooyoung is here,” He said. 
“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed, leaving his whiskey unattended by the counter leaving Jisung on the lookout. “Tell Y/n to go,” 
Changbin left his spot and went to follow Felix. The old man is becoming more suspicious. 
“You think it’s a trap?” Seungmin said from the other line. 
“They don’t know Y/n’s coming,” Chan answered. “Tell her to leave! Jeongin, take her away, and Hyunjin stall Wooyoung for a bit,” 
“Noona, we have to go,” You heard Jeongin say, which caught Wooyoung's attention. 
“Oh, you’re with one of the Wolves? I thought the only Wolf invited was Hyunjin,” He asked, being curious when he read all the names invited for the party. 
“Noona we really need to go,” Jeongin said again. It wasn’t even 10 minutes ever since you arrived and now you’re being asked to leave. 
“Maybe some other time,” You told Wooyoung as you were about to leave with Jeongin but he was persistent. 
“Hey, we have a lot to catch up on,” He said but only it would take a second to steal one of Jeongin’s guns from his belt, cocking it before turning around to point it at Wooyoung’s forehead. His bodyguards immediately took their weapons pointing at you, making Jeongin raise his hands in surrender. Wooyoung wasn’t amused but it was unexpected. 
“Leave her alone,” Hyunjin suddenly came out of nowhere pointing his pistol at Wooyoung from behind. 
“Hey, hey put those guns down! I just want to talk,” He said. 
“Where’s your father?” You asked, still not moving from your spot. Jeongin couldn’t do anything but stand still, whispering something on his mic. 
Meanwhile, Felix and Changbin were following Mr. Jung—it was out of plan that he’d be down here when he was supposed to take the bait. Not Wooyoung. Chan, Minho, and Seungmin came to join the party while Han started to look for Felix and Changbin discreetly. 
“I don’t know, probably somewhere,” He said with a cocky smile plastered on his face as he is currently surrounded. “You brought her here, so hand her over then nobody gets hurt,” 
“Bitch,” You murmured—raising your right hand as a loud gunshot was heard. 
“Noona we need to go!” You heard what Jeongin said. Everyone panicked and ran outside leaving you and the Wolves along with your so-called relatives. Chan and Minho shot his bodyguards as Hyunjin was about to take Wooyoung hostage, he suddenly took his gun out pointing it at him. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t realize Jeongin was already leading you outside the venue. 
“Wait, Hyunjin!” You said—letting go of Jeongin’s grip before you could even get out and go back inside. 
“No! Noona come back!” You heard Jeongin call but ignored him. 
You were welcomed by gunshots being exchanged as you hid under a table—you realized you still had Jeongin’s gun with you, checking how many bullets were left. This will be enough. Wooyoung already ran away as Chan, Minho, and Seungmin were left on the dancefloor, reloading their guns as they hid behind the bar counter. I need to find Hyunjin. 
“Fuck,” Jeongin cursed under his breath as he took the other way back to the venue. You looked around trying to find a blind spot so no one would notice you coming through—by taking off your heels, you hurriedly transferred to the table next to where you were hiding. Chan fired a shot and noticed you behind the guards. 
“Seungmin cover me,” Chan ordered as Seungmin fired with Minho. He managed to shoot one down as Chan fled the counterbar by hiding behind the columns. 
Chan followed you until you reached the stairs that led to the basement. You ran downstairs barefooted as you saw a glimpse of Hyunjin running to a hallway—probably chasing Wooyoung. Unfortunately, it was a trap and Felix, Han, and Changbin were held hostage by Mr. Jung who tied them into a room, guns pointed at their heads by the rest of his bodyguards. Hyunjin was also led to the trap. They were outnumbered. 
You couldn’t get inside and peeked through behind a large vase with huge leaves. Chan was able to grab your arm—pulling you towards a blind spot. 
“What are you doing? You were instructed to leave with Jeongin?” He asked, having his grip around your arm tightened as it was hurting. The way he stares could kill you as they were ice cold yet, burning of anger. 
“I can’t leave Hyunjin alone,” You reasoned out when someone from behind hit the back of Chan’s neck, causing him to pass out, making you scream in terror when they grabbed you to the room with him. “Let me go!” You yelled at the man but he doesn’t give a fuck and even if you tried to let go of his grip—he was too strong to pull you back again. 
Your voice was heard throughout the basement until you reached the room. You saw the Wolves kneeling—hands tied behind their backs as you stood there in front of them. They were surrounded and a man was holding your arm, preventing you from escaping. Chan was unconscious. Felix got a bruise on his forehead and a busted lip. Han and Changbin were also beaten up, and Hyunjin had a gun directed to his temple by Wooyoung as he licked his inner cheek in annoyance—blood dripping from his forehead, a cut at the side of his brow, a busted lip. What the fuck did they do? 
“Where are the rest of the Wolves?” Mr. Jung asked. 
“I don’t know,” You answered firmly. You could see your uncle having that smile plastered on his face while sitting down with a glass of wine in one hand. Fucker.
The only ones missing were Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin. 
“Find them!” Mr. Jung ordered. 
His wife was there, standing beside her bastard husband. It was a trap after all. The Wolves couldn’t say a word, but you are sure that they’re worried about what’s going to happen. Nobody expected this and you were dumb to follow Hyunjin, but if you didn’t, what could happen? Your eyes wandered around the area to find something to make a solution or a way to get out. But you can’t do this alone. 
Fuck, these are all walls and there’s only one entrance and exit. 
“After all these years of looking for you,” You heard your uncle say. “You came straight to the mouse trap,” He added as he stood up—walking towards you.
“Sir, we found them!” But not long after the chase, Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin were brought into the room and were forced to kneel beside the rest of the Wolves. Grunts were heard from them and after that, they were quiet, but their faces were saying that they were not happy with the setup. 
“Ahh, the rest of the orphans are here!” 
Motherfucker. 
“Your parents had a great legacy, too bad it was cut short because of the incident 20 years ago,” Mr. Jung laughed. “It didn’t hurt when my father chose my brother to be the Godfather when I’m capable of doing the business. Money was tight but cheers to the black market and soon, your properties and businesses,” 
“I’m not giving them to you!” You argued as he sighed in response while shaking his head. 
“I know you would say that,” He answered. “But let me make you a deal, each time you refuse, one of them dies,” He added, pointing to the brothers. “Who was it Wooyoung? Hyunjin is it?” 
“Yes, her boyfriend,” Wooyoung answered. 
“Ahh, you thought we didn’t know what happened,” Mr. Jung said. “I have someone who has access to the mansion and Chan’s private island. You thought you killed everyone from the party a month ago?” 
It was probably one of the guards. Sigh… come on, think Y/n, think. 
“Kill him,” You said, making everyone jump into surprise. 
“Are you nuts, Y/n?!” Seungmin exclaimed. 
“Shut up, Kim!” Wooyoung scolded. 
“If plan A won’t work, we have a plan B,” Hyunjin said the night before as you two sat on the floor with the documents Seungmin left you to study. 
“Obey them,” You answered. 
“Yes,” He answered. “My brothers and I have secret pockets in our sleeves so we can still use small weapons if we struggle—they will take you from us for sure and if we get captured, buy their time. We know how to act,” 
“Hold it,” Mr. Jung said, raising his hand. “What are you playing at?” He added, looking at you. 
“You said that every time I refuse to give you rights to my parents’ properties, you’d kill one of them, which I am. I won’t give it,” You smiled at him. 
Meanwhile, Hyunjin was playing with his zippo trying to get loose from the rope being tied around his wrists—slowly making a small flame. Minho was able to slip his pocket knife inside his sleeve and did the same—cutting the rope slowly for anyone not to notice his movements. 
“You killed my parents so I’m sure killing my boyfriend won’t make any difference. Shoot him,” You said, leaning closer to your uncle’s face—gritting your teeth at him. 
Your uncle raised a brow and seemed like finally getting the actual bait as he signaled Wooyoung to pull the trigger when Hyunjin was quick enough to dodge it—sweeping him off of his feet by swinging his legs to his ankles. The shot was fired at his bodyguard making the Wolves free from the knots, taking their guns out as they formed a circle—backs against each other. Unfortunately, the man didn’t even bother letting you go, instead, a gun is already at the side of your head. 
Wooyoung got up wincing from the pain in his shoulder after he fell. It was embarrassing. He picked up his gun and pointed it at Hyunjin again. 
“If you think you’re so clever to make them out of the ropes, you’re wrong, girl,” Your uncle said. “Any last words before I kill you?” He asked as he signaled the man to hold you tighter—your left hand managed to snake inside your dress as you hid the gun behind your back before firing the man’s feet making him push you away. After that, you shot your uncle in his chest before he could even react. 
Good thing your gun was hidden inside your dress, assisted with a leather garter on your leg. 
The Wolves started firing those men as Wooyoung ran away, his mom didn’t even make it out alive. 
Gunshots were exchanged, as Felix got behind your back, firing. 
“Hyunjin, get Wooyoung!” You heard Chan say, “We’ll cover you!” Hyunjin immediately fled from the room as he chased Wooyoung out of the basement, and back to the main hall. 
“You need to follow Hyunjin,” Felix said. 
“What about you guys?” You asked, aiming the gun at whoever tried to come closer. Bodies were already on the floor, some had the guts to hide and dodge the bullets from the Wolves. 
“We can manage, just go!” Felix commanded, making you exhale harshly, and left the room—running back upstairs, barefooted. You saw a man lying down on the floor before you could reach the top and grabbed his gun, checking if there were bullets left. 
“4 bullets?” You sighed as you checked yours too. “4, okay. 8 bullets will be enough,” 
The coast was clear when you got back up to the main hall. It was a mess, tables and chairs had been turned, holes in the walls and fabrics from the bullets, some of the lanterns were broken, even the huge banner. No one was there except you and you’re worried about where Wooyoung has been leading Hyunjin to. It won’t be the basement of course. 
Could it be at the parking lot? 
Lifting your dress, you ran outside to the parking lot not minding how painful it is to rush out of the venue without your heels—but they’ll slow you down if you haven’t got them removed. And you’re right, Wooyoung and Hyunjin were still there, holding each other’s gunpoint. You hid by one of those parked cars and slowly took your way closer to where they were. 
“It’s dumb how it took you 20 years to find her,” Hyunjin said. 
“They did,” Wooyoung answered. “But we needed a motive to kill her. Not just her being the first in line,” 
“She didn’t know anything until we told her!” Hyunjin argued. 
“You put the idea inside her stupid little brain,” Wooyoung said. “She was easy to kill before then,” 
“She will never give it to you,” Hyunjin answered with his arm firm enough to shoot him. You were able to sneak a few meters behind Wooyoung. Hyunjin pretended not to see you as he kept buying your cousin’s time. “Your father’s dead! She shot him,” 
“You Wolves killed my mother too,” Wooyoung retorted. 
“Your parents made us orphans. All of us!” Hyunjin said. “You don’t deserve the Godfather’s empire. It was built for a good cause and that’s not for you to make dirty. How does it feel to be alone now?” Hyunjin asked, cocking his head with a sly smirk on his face as you pointed the gun at your cousin’s head—shaking from anger. 
“You deserve to die,” Wooyoung said, clenching his jaw, and was about to pull the trigger to aim at Hyunjin’s head when a loud gunshot was heard, making him kneel on the ground—collapsing a few seconds later. 
Your pistol was hot as white smoke escalated from the hole. Hyunjin immediately moved away in case he got hit before you ran up to him—embracing him tightly. 
It’s over. 
The rest of the Wolves came to the parking lot after hearing the gunshot only to find you hugging Hyunjin. 
It’s over—it’s finally over. 
“Are you okay?” You asked—looking at him as you examined his face. “You didn’t get hit right?” 
“I’m good,” He said, hugging you again. “You must be terrified,” 
“No… but, I can’t believe I shot them,” You sniffed, burying your face against his chest. 
“Baby, you did good, okay? They’re bad people,” He answered, caressing your back—kissing you on the forehead. “Let’s go home, you must be exhausted,” 
“Are you guys okay?” Minho asked out of worry as you turned around to look at them. Felix seemed to be injured as he was assisted by Han and Seungmin. 
“What happened?” You asked, hurriedly approaching the three of them. 
“He got shot on his leg,” Seungmin sighed. 
“God,” You cried, hugging Felix tightly which made the man chuckle in response. “I’m sorry,” 
“Y/n, I’m fine,” He reassured, patting your back while painting a smile on his face.  
“Yeah, she’s fine, we’re fine,” Hyunjin answered Minho. 
“He’s dead?” Chan asked, pointing at Wooyoung’s body. 
“Y/n shot him,” Hyunjin answered. “And the rest?” 
“No one survived,” Changbin said. 
Everyone felt relieved that night except Felix who struggled to walk because of his injured leg. Minho carried him like a bride as the younger one winced in pain as they left for the car. You were tailing them as Seungmin noticed your dress got ripped and you were barefooted. 
“You’re a mess, girl,” Seungmin said, making you shrug in response—mascara being smudged. 
“I wasn’t expecting to be like this but thank you for noticing,” You chuckled, reaching out your arm as Seungmin smiled, letting you wrap your arm around his broad shoulders although he’s a bit taller than you. 
“Let’s go home, we still have a business to discuss,” You heard Chan say but Hyunjin begged to differ. 
“Hyung, can’t Y/n just rest for tonight?” He said but Chan’s eyes landed on the two of you and said; “Are you tired, Y/n?” 
“No,” You shake your head. “Let’s talk about the ownership,” You added, letting go of Seungmin— walking towards Hyunjin’s car making Chan smirk at him. 
“You heard your girl, lover boy,” 
“You got a fighter,” Changbin said, making a fist bump with Hyunjin making him cocky. 
“Noona stole my gun,” Jeongin sulked as he got inside Chan’s car. 
“You have a wall of guns in your room, a pistol is not that big of a deal,” Chan answered, making the youngest sigh in defeat. 
You all went home after that and let the cops get to the venue a few minutes after you left. The news was all over the place and all of Korea was watching. No names were dropped except from the Jungs who died. There will be no problems now—unless there will be another list of names to shoot. 
Meanwhile, everyone was inside Felix’s room as Minho was treating him—the man got a master’s degree in medicine. Unpredictable. 
“He’ll be sent to a hospital, I already called an ambulance,” He said. 
“Are you good, bro?” Han asked Felix who was obviously in pain. 
“Do you think I’m good, Han?” Felix hissed at him, making everyone laugh.
“Now, Y/n, time for your decision,” Chan suddenly butted in as he signaled Seungmin to hand over the documents you need to sign for transferring your names to the ownership. “You can leave this all behind and let us handle everything or you want to continue your parents’ business and be our partner,” He smiled for the first time. 
And without hesitation, you signed it. 
“The latter, Chan, I will work with you,” You smiled at him—reaching out a hand for a shake. The boys didn’t have the time to react that they were happy with your decision. Especially Hyunjin. 
“Wise choice,” Chan said, shaking your hand. “We’ll contact Mr. Park tomorrow so we can schedule a meeting, alright?” 
“Welcome to the family, Y/n!” Seungmin said, hugging you tightly. 
Family. 
You finally have a family. 
Hyunjin cleared his throat as Seungmin rolled his eyes, letting you go out of the hug. 
“She’s going to be my sister-in-law, anyway Hyunjin,” Seungmin said. 
“Shoo,” Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer to him. 
The rest of the evening was not a surprise anymore. Felix was sent to the hospital with Minho and Chan with him, while the rest of the Wolves were ordered to stay and rest. You found yourself on the rooftop wearing your pajamas. Sitting there alone as the cold breeze of the wind dries your hair feels so calm. It was a very long day and a very long night—you’re glad it’s over but you knew you still have a lot to do starting tomorrow. A meeting, negotiations and maybe getting a new job. 
Your life changed in the blink of an eye. 
The heavens finally gave it to you and it is more than you could ask for. 
A man who suddenly showed up and became the love of your life, a profession that would put a lot of things on the table, and the most valuable, a family. You’re not lonely anymore. 
Although there is still one thing to be finalized… 
“Love?” You heard Hyunjin’s voice as he walked upstairs to the rooftop. “I thought you were with Seungmin for notarization,” 
“No, he said we can do that tomorrow,” You smiled. “Sit here, we have to talk,” You added, patting the empty space beside you. Hyunjin sat down immediately as he took your hand, kissing it before he placed it on his cheek to feel your warmth.  
“Is this about us?” He asked. 
“Do we still need to slow down?” You asked him as he smiled gently, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 
“No,” He said. “You’re officially mine now,” 
“Can I say it?” You asked him as your foreheads rested against each other, Hyunjin was confused. 
“What is it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy but you think he’s more of a weasel. It took you a few seconds before answering as you made sure that the eye contact was still there with your hands placed on his cheeks. He was waiting. 
“I love you,” But instead of answering, Hyunjin pulled you to sit on his lap, crashing his lips onto yours—bodies pressed together as you hugged him around his neck with his arms around your waist. 
“I love you more,” He answered it between, breathing heavily as your lips collided against each other. 
Your heart’s racing again and so does he. 
It’s one heck of the night after all but, he is the best part of it. 
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©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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frownyalfred · 5 months
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I've always thought it was hilarious when I saw fics of Bruce talking to the league about his "babies" early on and managing to convince most of them that he's got a bunch of very young kids at home just by virtue of how he talks about them.
And then they need some backup on a mission and he announces that he has backup incoming and Clark says something like "oh, you called the kids?" And just when they're all about to start telling Bats that his kids are definitely too young to be showing up to this kind of fighting the Red Hood himself comes in guns blazing.
afterwards when the fightings over he's just standing menacingly behind bats during the debrief and they're all far too freaked out to say anything about it, especially when he very slowly leans forward until he's actually toughing Batman himself and Batman only reacts to reach up and pat him on the top of his helmet the same way someone might pat their kid on the head.
when they get back to the cave Jason spends the next hour bitching about how dumb that was, "why would you go on a mission like that without the proper backup? If any of us did that we'd never hear the end of it, but look at you mister do what I say not what I do!!!!"
I'm combining too many of your posts in this one lol
I love it. It makes me think about how obsessed I am with the Bats and B being super open with touch and body language around each other but as soon as anyone else gets close they back off and stare.
Bruce reaching for Jason’s shoulder after a mission: good, paternal, safe
Ollie reaching for Jason’s shoulder after a mission: who the FUCK are you get AWAY
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sukirichi · 3 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 | 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
In a world filled with too much cash and flashing lights, will a solemn and ironically private relationship of a celebrity chef and wealthy socialite branded as star crossed lovers remain full of adoration and sincerity?
cw. fem! reader. celebrity chef! reader. gojo is insanely rich. angst. unedited. suggestive (they make out and is implied to sleep together, but no explicit scenes are shown.) hurt with a little bit of comfort.
notes. i can’t explain it but there’s just something about this fic i’m not completely satisfied with... i feel like i could’ve written it better LOL but also i just wanted to write something casual
wc. 17k
divider from saradika-graphics <3
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Contrary to what people may say, Satoru knows he’s worked hard to get where he is.
The silent yet sharp-tongued man whose mere sound of his shoes stepping in the hallway sent his employees rushing inside their cubicles with fear. Belonging to the top tier of society as a result of being born wealthy and powerful, his name was enough to have people’s knees quivering of what the young heir was capable of.
He had the world at the mercy of his hands.
His icy blue eyes were empty, cold, and relentless – a stark contrast to his angelic features that fooled people. With his face pasted on almost every magazine, and companies vying for his attention left and right, journalists begging for a five minute interview, it was no brainer the importance of Gojo Satoru. And with his looks that had every man and woman stumbling before his very feet, the line between angel and devil blurred thinner.
You see, being born a God in front of everyone’s eyes was not as easy as it seemed. Tabloids always spread fake rumors claiming the young heir did not deserve to handle his family’s group of companies due to the fact he didn’t even graduate college. Or that was too scandalous for his own good to keep up a good reputation. As someone who holds major stockholders in the mercy of his will, everyone expected better.
Satoru scoffed at it all. To him, those were nothing but measly words.
He was the Gojo Satoru. He could do whatever he wanted, however he pleased, and all the world could do about it was complain. Such rumors (albeit ringing with truth) did not affect his life whatsoever.
Still, it doesn’t come as a surprise to him how uncultured people preferred other companies to be on top of the food chain – like Zen’in Corp, or Kamo Inc. They had far better reputations (ha, Satoru thought sarcastically), and were more well-liked by Japan. Satoru knows better though. No one is truly kind when they had enough wealth to claim the world as their own. Naoya Zen’in’s smile was as natural as his blonde streaks, and Noritoshi Kamo wasn’t even the company’s real heir. The latter was a bastard, and the former an attention seeker.
At least Satoru was honest and did not put on any facades of being a good man. He knew he was not.
The other men were greedy, always ready to pounce at every opportunity to have another digit added to their bank account, their expensive colognes successfully hiding the stench of their evil nature and their perfectly chiseled features resembling those of a seductive demon’s. Satoru was not surprised that he was born in a castle that resembled hell. Though it does not bother him anymore, he used to be saddened by the fact that he had been close with them in his youth. They spent their days spent chasing each other in the garden and pulling the trigger of water guns mercilessly, but all that was forgotten when each of them were groomed into perfection, just waiting to see who would take over the throne and who would end up as subordinates.
A battle which Satoru won without breaking a sweat.
And just like that, friendships dissolved. Men who he once called his comrades became his rivals in the industry.
Being the eldest of the three, their blood boiled when the official announcement came: Gojo Satoru had officially been stated as the new president of the Gojo Group of Companies.
It was not an easy competition. The bond between friends were soon replaced with greed and hatred for each other. Both Naoya and Noritoshi were ready to rip him apart at every mistake he made, but they did not know how fortunate they were. While they spent weekends overseas in cruise ships with flutes of champagne delicately nestled between their fingers, fucking every pair of tits with walking legs, Satoru locked himself in an office at the young age of eighteen. Whilst everyone savored the flavor of youth, he was forced to make the wisest decisions when it came to business. And little by little piece, his humanity had shattered until it was destroyed completely.
Gone was the cheerful boy who always spent too much time playing with his dogs and not minding that his latest Gucci pyjamas had been stained with grass. In fact, he did not even remember that side of him existed at all.
That at one point in his life, he’d been a normal boy with a normal childhood – before the weight of the world wore him down.
Glancing sideways at his security team, the head guard, Toji, nodded and commanded something through his radio. All the guards dispersed and made way for him. In a matter of a minute, the employees who were walking aimlessly in his hallway had scrambled in their offices. Sighing tiredly, Satoru rolled his eyes. Toji opened the doors for him as he stepped out, the dull, gray exterior of the spacious room feeling like home more than anything else.
His secretary, Mei-Mei, bowed politely at him and handed him his caffė macchiato. His fingers reached for the cup before facing the glass walls. Beneath him, the entirety of Tokyo lay pulsing at his feet. With one scoop of his hands and a simple word uttered through his lips, he knew he could take everything. And he could if he wanted to, but such was the dilemma of having everything.
Satoru Gojo desired for nothing at all.
“This,” his father once said at the twelve year old him, his hand sweeping from the exact same place he stood in. “will all be yours soon, my son. You have the world in the mercy of your hands.”
The hot beverage burned his tongue. He reeled back, biting at his tongue in the process of soothing it as he listened to Mei-Mei list his agenda for today. He had just gotten home from Beijing less than an hour ago, and he couldn’t even sleep on the flight because he was swarmed with paperwork and a hundred more proposals to accept. Yet the exhaustion does not show on his face. In fact, there was a not a trace of it. His face remained blemish free and healthy thanks to the dermatologists who always gave him free treatments in exchange of endorsing them – which he never did.
Raising his chin high, he peeked past his shoulder to look at Mei-Mei, who had her tablet tucked in her armpit, silently awaiting his response. “Alert the Board of an emergency meeting within ten minutes, and I want Mr. Ijichi to bring me the real sales report regarding the Wangguo Resort for the past five months.”
Mei-Mei’s gasp is barely audible. Satoru knew his request was absurd, but it was her job to do everything he told her to. If she didn’t, well, the answer was clear as day. She could say goodbye to her lovely job.
Turning his back to her, Satoru scanned his nails lazily. He needn’t worry about anything. He knew Mei-Mei would always do what was needed at the price. But – his eyes narrowed – he was in desperate need of another manicure. Hours spent typing and calculating sales had chipped them, and he had to keep his appearance of a perfect man who had his life together. After all, he was Satoru Gojo – the flawless one. The god walking amongst humans. He could never quite tell when there were cameras ready to catch him off-guard, but he’d never risk that chance.
He had to be without fault.
“An emergency meeting?” Mei-Mei stumbled over her words, chuckling nervously as she swiped at her tablet, looking for a reason as to why he would ask her to do such a thing. Satoru nodded, fully aware that most of the members on the Board were in different provinces out to do their job, but he was the most powerful person in that building.
Nothing was impossible for him. His wishes were the law.
“What for, Sir?”
He slapped a red envelope with a golden seal down his desk, eyes forming into slits. Mei-Mei cowered under his gaze. “When I went to Beijing to check the status of our hotel, I found out that there had been issues regarding maintenance and plumbing reported for five months now, and no one told me about it? I run a five star hotel that exceeds the expectations of even royals, and I won’t forgive this treachery. According to the hotel staff, their supervisor had told them to keep the complaints confidential because they didn’t want me to know there’d been issues in the first place.”
Though he spoke smoothly and did not even stutter or waver the least bit, Mei-Mei had known him long enough to know that even the slightest twitch from his eyes meant he was furious.
This wasn’t the first time your brothers had tried to take whatever was yours in their possession, but the sales report of that hotel had been forged and the Board was aware, yet they did not inform you in fear of what your brother could have done to them.
This wasn’t the first time his staff had kept secrets from him. They all piled up until it became too big to ignore, and then Satoru had to step in. Seriously. Was he a joke to them?
“No, I take it back,” he said suddenly, plastering on a fake smile at his oblivious assistant who tried her best to conceal her relief. After all, Mei-Mei too had been tired with the amount of workload he gave her, but if she wanted remain as a woman with deep pockets, she just had to turn his wishes into reality. “Fire all members of the Board, and blacklist them. Make sure no local or foreign company will ever hire them, but because I am a man of mercy, they can still be hired as waiters or janitors.”
Mei-Mei’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, and it looked so comical Satoru would’ve laughed if he knew how to.
Instead, he smoothened out invisible creases from his three piece suit before sitting down, the harsh yet familiar blue light of his Mac desktop greeting him. His fingers skirted along the keyboard in the speed of light, and from his calm state, you would have guessed nothing happened, but this could be his downfall.
He’d always been warned to keep his temper in check, to think things through before coming to a final decision, but why would he?
If his own people would not respect him, then he wasn’t required to return the gesture. After all, he didn’t need them as much as they needed him. He could easily replace the figures making up the Board. But he was the president, the man who made those lazy, fat fucks rich. They had gotten too comfortable with their positions, and he needed to show them that he still held their lives on the line.
That ought to teach them a lesson.
“Sir, please reconsider this and don’t make decisions compulsively. The Board plays a big role in our company–”
“Tell me, Mei-Mei, is a King only considered a king when he has people to serve him?”
She falters for a bit, her eyes watching him cautiously. Satoru leant forward the slightest bit, the black glasses framing his face in a way he looked almost innocent. But the coldness of his eyes were enough of a telltale that he was not someone to be messed with. Aggravation and mirth danced in them almost mockingly. He could read her perfectly – this secretary of his. He’s not stupid; he knows she hates him. And why wouldn’t she? No one liked Gojo Satoru. He was mean, ruthless, and invalidated everyone who he deemed ‘lower’ than him. And yet, he hadn’t met a single person to prove him wrong.
The truth is that no one was as capable of doing things the way Satoru did.
He was the smartest person she’d ever met to the point it was frightening. Satoru always had a solution to whatever situation, with countless of secrets and tricks hidden under his sleeve. And he wasn’t as awful as everyone said he was. Yes, he was ruthless, that much Mei-Mei could admit, but only to everyone who deserved it.
Anyone who didn’t do their job right, or abused their power wouldn’t escape Gojo Satoru’s wrath. Call him a demon, or the devil’s son, but Mei-Mei saw him more of a judge who brought justice and punishment to those who did wrong.
Satoru leant back against his chair, satisfied with her answer before dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “A king remains powerful when his kingdom is omnipotent. I’m glad you understand that now,” he said, head snapping up as he remembered something. “Oh, and don’t forget to schedule a dinner with the others tonight at that new restaurant everyone has been crazing about.”
Mei-Mei nods, pressing ‘cancel’ to the rest of his agenda for the night. She made a mental note to call the restaurant ahead of time to tell them to reserve the place all for Mr. Gojo. Taking one last look at him, Mei-Mei realizes that if she wants to keep working with the devil, she had to stay on their good side.
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“I’m not doing it.”
“Boss,” Yuuji whines, pouting as he holds your hands and shakes them in an attempt to make you reconsider. You merely scoff, freeing yourself from the younger one’s grip with a glare. “They said they’ll pay us handsomely if we reserve the whole restaurant for just the night, and I’m afraid we’ll close down if we don’t do what they tell us to. It’s not just anyone, you know. It’s the Gojo Satoru.”
You looked at him disapprovingly before resuming your task of cutting vegetables. “Our shop won’t close,” you reply confidently, “We only take reservations per table, not for the whole restaurant. They should eat somewhere else, I don’t care about the money.”
Of course you knew who Gojo Satoru was – everyone did. It was kind of hard not to know the guy when the entirety of Japan had been in love with him from the moment he was born. That wasn’t an exaggeration, either, because people actually had photos of the heir from when he was still a baby. ‘Such a beautiful boy,’ they cooed upon the sight of his stark-white hair. And when he finally opened his eyes, it was done for – the young Gojo Satoru had everyone wrapped around his finger before he even babbled his first words. So yes, you knew perfectly well who he was, and that was exactly why you didn’t like him.
For such a popular man, his reputation was anything but good.
You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or the restaurant you shed blood, sweat, and tears to build.
You were the newest celebrity chef the world crazed over. Not only were your dishes to die for, but your looks caught the crowd’s attention, too. Pair your introverted, awkward personality with your endless charm shown in your dishes, you quickly rose to fame. Tabloids and magazines alike starved to get a taste of your dishes – a glimpse of you, even. With the latest opening of your new restaurant in the city, people have been coming in endlessly, wanting to see the infamous chef for themselves behind the kitchen.
Yeah, you wouldn’t let that happen.
Unfortunately for the media, you would rather hide behind the kitchen doors than have to go through another dreadful interview. Apart from a few pictures taken by the paparazzi and endless praises from your customers in your skills in cooking, you remained a mystery – something you’d prefer to keep.
Having Gojo Satoru and his ‘peers’ over would completely ruin that.
As much as you loved your career, knowing you made money doing what you loved, you detested the attention it came with being associated with the rich. One day, you were elbow-deep in your dishes, and then you were suddenly being invited to the most pretentious social events. Wealthy people roamed around, content with making the price tags of their clothes their personalities. You didn’t mind at first. It was exhilarating, even, to be thrown into a world so different from the one you were born into. But after one gathering where three wealthy men offered to hire you as their personal chef, and promised extra pay for ‘special services’, you left that world behind.
You swore not to be involved with the socialites anymore, even if it meant more success for your future. You cared less about the money anyway – you were confident in your skills enough to know you could pave your way with your own hands. You would never accept money from their deep, dirty pockets.
 “Boss, you need to see this!” Yuuji whispered harshly, tugging you by the apron. You grumbled upon being separated from your chopping board, but his words fell on deaf ears as you both watched the customers clamor in excitement, phones being pulled out of their pockets. Soon enough, your restaurant drowned with flashing lights, and an equally blinding smile from the tall man who entered, his cheeks flushed from all the attention. “Holy shit. He looks even hotter in person.”
Thankful that you had your contacts on, you could see the scene before you clearly.
The people rose from their seats, eager to have a picture taken with Japan’s most beloved. His security team immediately formed a protective circle around him when the people clamored, the Gojo heir apologizing because he didn’t allow pictures. He claimed tonight was a special night, and he merely wanted to have a private dinner with his childhood friends.
Oh, fucking great. He’s bringing others here, too?
As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, two, black and sleek cars pulled up into the driveway. Naoya Zen’in stepped out of the car, shades propped on his tall nose as he smirked at the cameras already being flashed his way. From the other car appeared Noritoshi Kamo, his lips pressed into thin lines while blatantly ignoring the chaos ensued from their mere presence.
Your eye twitched. You could feel a migraine coming already.
To say you feel enraged would be an understatement. You pushed past your crew with a stormy expression, prepared to tell these stuck-up elites to go visit another restaurant. Was it really that hard to give you peace? You never accepted their reservation to begin with. However, you didn’t make it very far when you felt a strong hand grasp your arm.
“Boss, please hold yourself back, it’s just a dinner they’re asking for. If you intervene now, this could cause a public commotion,” Yuuji glances at the three men from the corner of his eye before warning you, “They’re not people you can mess with.”
Soon enough, his former customers had dispersed out peacefully with the assistance of the family’s security team, and he grits his teeth in an attempt to contain his anger for pretentious people like them, watching as they occupied an empty table. One of the waiters approached them nervously, three menus in her hands and she’s about to hand them out when the eldest looking one spoke irritatingly.
You huffed. You hated how he was right. Successful, you may be, but you could never come close to their level of power and wealth.
With an apologetic smile from Satoru – who made four women faint from the sight – your previous customers dispersed with the assistance of Satoru’s security team. You gritted your teeth in an attempt to contain your anger. They were so pretentious! Naoya, especially, flicking two of his fingers at your waiter as a signal to clean up the table he wanted. Scurrying on his heels, your staff nervously approached them while the others cleaned up in the speed of light, and handing them the menu’s with shaky hands.
Noritoshi nodded once at the waiter who approached him, while Satoru paid them no mind as he flicked through the pages. Meanwhile, Naoya clutched the wrist of the waitress who’d handed him his menu, brushing his lips against her knuckles.
You watched as your waitress froze. You were about to push his hand away from her when Satoru beat you to it, his voice icy and his words cutting like a knife. “Can never keep your hands to yourself, huh, Zen’in? With the amount of women visiting your estate, I’d have figured you would know enough to never touch a woman without her permission.”
Naoya scowled, immediately dropping your waitress’ hands before plastering another smirk. “No need to be a killjoy, Satoru. But anyways, what’s the reason for calling us out of the blue? You know well enough I had matters to take care of in Kobe.”
Satoru doesn’t lift his gaze from the menu. “Actually, I don’t know that. I could care less about your schedule. But I figured I haven’t seen my dear old friends in a while and thought a meal would be nice.”
Noritoshi spoke up, and Yuuji whispers to your ear on how he was one of the most popular models in the industry, and third to to them in the top bachelors of the decade. “Cut to the chase, we don’t have enough time.”
“Calm down, why are you in such a hurry? Let’s order first shall we?” You plaster on a disgustingly forced smile, taking the tablet Yuuji hands you as you gravitated towards Satoru. Stupid bastard – he doesn’t even look your way. “We’ll take the Spicy Uni-Lardo Sushi in Lettuce Cups and Foei Gras-Steamed Clams.”
He listed a few more – the most expensive meals on the menu, too – and you jotted them all down with steady hands. Although the restaurant was eerily silent, you could feel the crew’s eyes watching over you from the kitchen like a hawk.
“Will that be all, Sir?”
Satoru hums, waving his hand in the air. “You’re dismissed. Now leave us.”
Your jaw dropped. This little – Yuuji snatched you back into the kitchen, but you’ll be damned if you didn’t defend your honor. Handing their orders to the other chefs so they could get started, you leant against the kitchen doors and peered out from the cracks to eavesdrop.
“Because I treasure my dear friends so much, I won’t waste your time any longer and get to the matters at hand. Naoya, let’s talk about the chain resort in the Wannguo branch, and Noritoshi, here is your lawsuit for fabricating my sales report that’ll land you a free six year vacation in jail.” A white haired woman appeared out of nowhere, pulling out a black envelope with bold letters reading ‘LAWSUIT.’ Satoru swiftly picked it and slid it towards the raven haired man’s way.
Noritoshi gaped at Satoru, “What’s the meaning of this, Satoru?”
“I should be asking you that. Isn’t it not enough for you I collaborated on this project with you? Are you that intent on kicking me out of my own company you’re sabotaging your responsibilities and lounging around in London?”
Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But this was the type of drama you saw only in dramas, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from them even if you tried.
Upon looking behind you, you saw your crew had paused in their work, too, intent on watching the drama unfold before your eyes. The Gojo Clan were practically royals in the country, always portrayed as indomitable and powerful beyond belief. It seemed hard to believe there were things that got under Gojo Satoru’s nerve, with his friends, no less. Sure, you’d heard Naoya scamming people here and there, along with rumors of Noritoshi abandoning his work in pursuit of pleasure.
And, regrettably, you assumed Satoru wouldn’t be any different than them. Now, you were getting a front seat view of what truly transpired beyond the surface.
Gesturing for your crew to go back to work, they all grumbled but obediently followed anyway. You took your attention off them and glanced back at Satoru, taken aback at the sight of pure irritation for his company – and if you looked a little closer, hurt pooled around those captivating eyes of his.
Perhaps he was human like you after all, and while he didn’t exactly give you a good first impression, you were decent enough to respect this was not something you could keep on wathcing. Resuming your work, you began to heat up the pans, their voices distant yet clear.
“Jail? Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t belong in a place like that!” Noritoshi, the younger one, shouted with an appalled expression, his hands slamming against the table as he sent an almost pleading look at Satoru.
“Then you shouldn’t have fabricated my documents to begin with.”
“Be careful, Satoru,” Naoya warned with a harsh whisper, “We were born with the eyes of the world around us, one wrong move and I’ll have the media ruin your tarnished reputation even more. You may be the richest amongst us three, but don’t think you’re invincible.”
“You asshole,” Noritoshi retorted, thin lips forming into a sneer. “If you were going to file a lawsuit against me, you couldn’t have done it privately? Don’t belittle us, one bad review of this restaurant and this place will burn down to pieces, and I’ll make sure you go along with it.”
Satoru’s melodious laughter made you all pause. “A death threat, how funny! You both truly are so sweet, but let me warn you that I have the press eagerly waiting for my signal, so act on your best behavior and pretend we’re having a hearty meal together,” In a matter of minutes, you interrupted by showing up with their food. Satoru’s eyes lit up as he clapped his hands in faux enthusiasm. “Oh, the food’s here, eat up! My treat tonight since you’ll all be losing your money anyway.”
From the corner of your eye, you can see Noritoshi glaring at his plate. Satoru had ordered you to serve him the seafood, and judging by Noritishi paling at the sight of it, he must’ve been allergic. Jesus. If he faints, or worse, dies at your restaurant tonight, it’d be completely pinned on you. You didn’t even do anything to be involved, and yet it seemed as if Satoru was dragging you down with him. Nevertheless, Noritoshi picked up his utensils. The scratching of silver knives against the plate filled the room, accompanied by the soft, jazz music that gave off a false, comfortable atmosphere.
Oh, but it was anything but that.
The tension was so thick in the air you found it hard to breathe. Satoru was like a ticking time bomb, Noritoshi was a few mouthfuls away from turning completely red in the face, and Naoya hadn’t stopped ordering refills of his wine.
Satoru dabbed at his mouth carefully with a napkin. What a shame, he thought. You had such a lovely restaurant, and your food was to die for. He would’ve enjoyed it if it hadn’t been for his so-called friends sabotaging his career.
“Here’s the deal – no, I do not need to make deals with my subordinates – here is what’s going to happen and listen carefully because I won’t repeat it again. Naoya, as from this hour, you are relieved of your duties as supervisor of our resort, but you’re free to have my vacation home there as compensation. As for you, Noritoshi, I’ll burn this lawsuit and forget your crime if you promise not to let even your name be spoken for the whole year. In other words: get out of my sight. Am I making myself clear?”
“How dare you do this to me?!”
“Sit down, Naoya, you wouldn’t want your pretty face to be ruined with that frown. Are we done here, boys?” Satoru enjoyed it, he really did.
To see two powerful crumble before him made him feel things he couldn’t quite put into his words. Entertaining, he called it, to know he was capable of cracking their tough personas. It made him wonder how many more buttons of theirs he could push before he destroyed them completely.
“Yes.” Noritoshi nodded with an almost pained choke, and Satoru leant back triumphantly. Because he was a model and sometimes an actor if he wished, he was more exposed to the media and cared more about his image more than Naoya did, thus making the former easier to manipulate and kneel down to his whim.
Satoru smiled, pleased. “Then you may go. Noritoshi, I’m keeping your car keys under my possession for the meantime, but my chauffeur will gladly chaperone you everywhere as long as I deem it necessary. And Naoya, I already sent my apologies to your escort, she’s as good as a stranger so you don’t have to worry about the press exposing your disgusting behavior.”
The latter looks up from his empty plate with wide, questioning eyes as if to ask how he knew about that, but he had never been a good liar. Satoru knew him well enough that he never took care of business matters and instead spent his days wasting the precious money his family had worked for just to pay the most ‘prestigious’ of escorts. He had a disgusting personality to ever make a woman land willingly in his bed, which is why he resorted to throwing his money just to have someone beautiful in his arms to flaunt off in social events, or warm his bed.
Though not in his line of sight, Satoru knew his bodyguard was watching. He stood up with grace, slapping a wad of cash down the table as a signal of his business finally dealt with. You expected him to leave the restaurant when he surprised you by heading your way. Eyes wide, your hands reached out to feel the doors when Yuuji subtly pushed you towards Satoru.
Oh, dear heavens. Yuuji was right.
The magazines and pictures of him didn’t do him any justice. He was absolutely breathtaking now that he was before you, his cold eyes now holding the tiniest bit of warmth as he regarded you. Back facing the other men, Satoru lowered his head. You stood there with baited breath, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips brushed over your ear. He was close enough that his expensive perfume wafted over you, and you could touch the ripples of his muscles bunching up against his baby blue shirt if you were brave enough to reach out.
“Thank you for the wonderful meal. I haven’t had a proper one since I was a teenager, and please don’t worry about what happened today, you won’t be involved in our personal matters. In exchange for your service, I will pay you generously.”
Satoru took a step back, and you stood there, muted and dumbfounded. You hadn’t expected he’d speak so softly to you when his words were harsh towards his ‘friends.’ And as if realizing the effect he had on you, a smirk ghosted at the edges of his lips. “Mei-Mei.”
Flashing you the best smile he could muster, he extended his hand to the side as his assistant pulled out a cheque. Satoru signed it without taking his eyes off you. He slid it your way, your eyes bulging out when you saw the ridiculous amount of zeroes he’d written on it. Instead of feeling pleased, irritation sparked in your veins.
You pushed his cheque back to his chest. And yes – your theory was proven correct – his muscles were hard and firm underneath that silk shirt. “I don’t need your money.”
You liked to think you had the upper hand when Satoru’s eyes widened by a mere fraction. It must’ve felt like a slap to his face, having someone refuse his money for the first time. But just as it came, the surprise vanished from his handsome face, slowly replaced by a teasing smile. Satoru leaned forward once more, bullying his way into your personal space until you were left with no choice but to share the same breaths of air.
He smelled like leather, wine, and something intoxicating that dared you to have a taste. Just one small taste, even if it meant possibly becoming addicted.
“Uptight and feisty, just how I like it,” chuckling to himself, Satoru draped his discarded suit jacket over his shoulders and sauntered out the door. “Expect me again, Chef. This won’t be the last time we’ll see each other.”
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You prided yourself for being someone in control of their emotions.
Yet, you’re overwhelmed by the sight of hundreds of customers waiting in line as they all snap pictures and chatter excitedly among themselves. You frown when Yuuji barges into your office without knocking (a habit that you’ve told him to change, but he never seems to listen) and almost shoves a tablet in your face as he struggled to keep himself on his own toes.
“Boss, you should read this, it’s insane!”
“Gojo approved restaurant of celebrity chef, now a five star restaurant in Tokyo!” You read the headline monotonously, Satoru’s handsome face from that night pasted on the article and waving at the camera. You could almost hear his light, breathy voice telling him that one way or another, he would find a way to pay you. You can’t help but scowl, because out of all things, he decides to pay you with publicity and unnecessary attention.
“‘Members of royal families and prominent leaders from all around the world have been rumored to pay a visit to either one of the five branches of the new rising celebrity chef’s restaurant. Another hit for the Chef!’”
“Isn’t it great, boss?” the overly jovial noy giggled, and you try not to wallow in embarrassment. “That’s not all, watch this video, it was released last week.”
Yuuji clicked on a video clip, and you lean forward, ears intently focused on the footage. You’re not surprised to see Satoru walking down a familiar road inside one of the most well-protected villages. Adorned in a white fur coat with black slacks that hugged his legs perfectly, he approaches the horde of reporters waiting outside the gates with a polite smile. He waves at the flashing lights, careful to show off his Patek Philippe 5004T wristwatch.
Tch. Showy bastard.
“We saw you at The Green Garden last month enjoying a dinner with Naoya Zen’in and Noritoshi Kamo. Tell us, how was the food there?” A report asked, about to shove her microphone in his face that was blocked by his ridiculously muscled bodyguard.
Jeez, you thought, did that guy take steroids for breakfast or something?
“Oh, I don’t have enough words for it,” he purred, and you hold your breath for his next words. You’re a little surprised at how his breathy voice managed to sound commanding and husky at the same time. “When I walked in, the aroma was just mouthwatering, and don’t get me started on the meal itself. It was absolutely delectable, all the flavors practically melt in my mouth, and I don’t think I’ve ever spoiled my taste buds this much.”
Your brows shoot up. Did he mean what he said? People like him rarely spoke the truth – everything was a show for them. He would say whatever appeased the public, and you weren’t sure if he even had the time to enjoy your food considering he was stuck in… quite the predicament. Still, you don’t pause the video, barely hanging at the edge of your seat as you listen.
“I did hear the food there was good, especially since the Chef is quite gaining some popularity over the last few months,” another reporter stated, and soon they were all nodding their heads approvingly. “Still, you’re someone who has probably tasted something better. Would you recommend the Chef’s dishes?”
Satoru smiles, letting his bangs frame his handsome face as he stares right at the camera. You feel your breath get caught in your throat, solely because it felt like he was looking at you. Once again, you’re more captivated by the shine in his eyes, rather than the blinding light of his mischievous smile.
“Of course,” he smirked, “It would be a sin not to have a taste of her.”
Yuuji chokes on his own laughter beside you. He starts shaking you by the shoulders, completely unaware that you’re a goner by now. Everything the younger man says falls on deaf ears. You find yourself too immersed in the video clip, that teasing smirk on his face disappearing as th crowd pushed further and further. His guard steps forward just as Satoru flicks his hair to the side – an action that would’ve been condescending on most, but somehow looked elegant on him – and retreats back to his Audi. Not just any Audi either, but an e-Tron 2010 Spyder Concept.
Meanwhile, you can’t pick what could be hotter – that a man like him had the ability to make your usual indifferent self flustered, or that he drove a classic car instead of a brand-new one.
You shoot up from your seat, eyes narrowed and chest puffed with determination. “I need to go grocery shopping!”
It’s not rare that you went shopping by yourself. Yuuji usually accompanies you to complete the task faster, but you preferred to be alone today to take your time picking only the best ingredients. Not because you wanted to impress a certain millionaire, of course. Or was he a billionaire? You forgot, but he was definitely Japan’s darling, and one word of praise from him now had several bookings sent your way. He’d placed a standard, one you had to live up to.
You had three branches in the entirety of Tokyo, one more in Paris, and another in the Netherlands – the last branch you opened after you fell in love there during your last visit. The country enthralled you with its mesmerizing simplicity and beauty. It felt like a dreamland there, with everything from farm to table, and everyone adored the dishes you came up with. Once you’ve saved up enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life, you planned to live there – to spend the rest of your life in serendipity and contentment – hopefully next to your future husband.
Ever since you received the news (albeit without, the amount of people lining up at your restaurant was a clear tell-tale your sales had been skyrocketing), you admitted you felt pressured. You needed a variety of  ingredients to experiment with, and hopefully add to your menu – something that both common folk and socialites could enjoy. After all, your main goal was to provide a wondrous magic in the form of a plate that was both simple yet luxurious enough to enjoyed as a treat to oneself.
Crossing off the carrot from your grocery list, you keeps pushing your cart through the spacious area. Your attention is divided between reading your to-buy list to surfing through each aisle. There was always a hidden gem if you looked hard enough, and that’s what you needed. A wild card of sorts, a completely never-seen before ingredient used in a new dish.
You’re so immersed with the task at hand you fail to hear the sound of footsteps nearing. Reaching for a bottle of wine (you cringed at the price), another arm shoots forward to reach for it at the same time. You pull back, the skin contact almost scalding to you. You open your mouth to apologize, only to have the words die in your throat when you come face-to-face with him.
Satoru was no less than tall and mighty, his cerulean eyes hidden behind black-tinted glasses. You can’t help but run your gaze over his figure – he’s now dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked in his dark blue jeans. Simple enough, yet you knew the price tags of his clothes would be enough to have you faint.
“Hello.”
“Hello to you too,” he grinned, firmly clasping the wine in his hands. He twists it around, analyzing its content before he hums to himself, pleased. “Great choice of liquor. I highly recommend this.”
The words stumble out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“I had no idea you went grocery shopping– I mean, why would you? You probably have others doing it for you and this is just another pointless, boring task–”
Satoru’s laughter is enough to make you shut up. Yep, okay, you totally screwed it up now. You scold yourself for a split second for being so awkward and not greeting him properly. But then irritation creeps in because you know Satoru isn’t different from the others. You should feel thankful for the publicity, yes, because Satoru’s singlehandedly made you skyrocket into popularity, but your pride told you that you don’t owe him anything. However, all rational thoughts fly out the window when you find yourself joining in his laughter – actually smiling – that you have to physically stop yourself from doing so again.
What the fuck?
You don’t smile. You don’t laugh. Everyone’s called you unpleasant and you take that with your chin held high. Yet somehow… you can’t help it when you’re in his presence.
Satoru tips his head to the side, and you forcibly look away with a clear of your throat. “I’m not shopping,” he says, “I was going to ask you what you’re doing here, but then again, no one goes to the grocery but to shop, right? And you’re a chef, so it’d be a rhetorical question.”
You nod slowly, unsure of what he’s getting at. He still keeps a firm grip on the bottle before he hands it over, making sure to brush his skin over yours in the process. You fight back the urge to shiver. “1949 Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru, a vintage wine whose price was boosted for a post-world war appeal. Only a few hundred bottles are produced annually, and while not exactly scarce, it’s a rare piece.”
You scans the bottle in astonishment, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you debate whether to buy it or not. A second glance at the price tag and you place it back without hesitation, not caring even if you could afford it, because there was no way on earth you were buying a five thousand dollar drink no matter how good it tasted.
“I take it that it’s not to your liking?”
“I don’t. I’m not much of a drinker anyway,” you reply honestly, mustering all your courage to face him. “If not to shop, then may I ask what you’re doing here?” You look behind him to see if his secretary or guard was around, but he seemed to be alone. As observant as ever, Satoru answers your unspoken questions without missing a beat.
“I’m here for business. This place is mine, and I came here to assess its monthly status.”
You look down at your cart, suddenly feeling small and shy as you mutter, “Of course you own this place.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks innocently, and you stumble over your words, your thumb circling your pointer finger nervously.
“I mean,” you start, pointing to the entirety of the brightly lit store that was almost the size of a concert arena. “This is a private membership grocery shop, and only people who are willing to pay a lot can go here. You’ve got many products here that aren’t available anywhere else, and it only makes sense it would be owned by the Gojo Family.”
“Owned by me, actually. This place was built when I took over, the idea entirely mine,” he corrects you and moves past, looking back with a confused expression when you don’t follow. “Well, aren’t you going shopping? Let me help you with it.”
You don’t know why you agree at his offer to help, but you don’t regret a single moment of talking to him. Satoru is stiff and rigid to his core, unlike his ‘friends’, but he was surprisingly a great conversationalist, and silences with him weren’t painfully awkward. He was also a lot smarter than he made himself out to be, but then again, you supposed one had to be intelligent to take over a group of companies at such a young age. And when he tells you deeply regrets not being able to fully appreciate your meals because he had ‘matters to deal with’, you can’t help the light fluttering of your chest that comes with it.
It starts out as slow burn, with a warmth barely felt if you didn’t focus enough. You can’t pinpoint exactly when you started to see him in a different light. In that moment, Satoru suddenly seemed small and almost vulnerable in your sight. Almost human. You can’t help but notice that he has his eyes glued to his feet – not because he’s uncomfortable with eye contact – making sure to not step over the dark lines from the white tiles. He was like a child going through an obstacle race, skipping at one point to another as he talks, and you stood there, wondering – just how much did this young man lose when he had to gain the world?
Through the eyes of the world, he was someone who had it all.
Born in a wealthy family with ancestors who never knew what the word ‘rent’ meant, and simultaneously blessed with good looks, you even remember a few articles written about him. How everyone was in awe and praising him for being a genius, but you believed everything came with a price – even the grandest of blessings.
You could only imagine what he must’ve been through. To be deprived of a normal childhood in exchange of a life of luxury, instead of being able to play under the rain. You could see him locked inside his father’s office, going through financial statements and attending board meetings at the age of sixteen. Meanwhile, you played at the cornfields with kids your age during that time, enjoying your youth and chasing after your passion.
But Satoru? He was constantly judged by the public for a single mistake, thus turning him into a make believe version of perfection.
Due to his lack of knowledge with cooking, he wasn’t of much help when it came to shopping. He was splendid company, however, and you felt soothed by his presence and his expensive perfume. It’s a scent you welcomed wholeheartedly, and so you find yourself asking him if he’d like to have dinner with you – at your restaurant – on a Friday night. When he doesn’t respond right away, you make up a lame excuse that you’re only giving him opportunities to look at the place much better than last time.
It makes Satoru stop in his tracks. You start to take back your invitation at his lack of a response when Satoru suddenly takes your hand in his, his eyes widening at how perfectly they seemed to fit (no matter how cliché that sounded.) He takes in the way your hands were rough and calloused from your labor, how it was a sign of all your hard work. Growing shy, you begin to pull back, but he keeps you in place – unconsciously squeezing your hand tighter.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes,” he smiles – and this time, it isn’t meant for the cameras. He’s not flamboyantly flashing his pearly whites, or trying to look perfect. It’s just him, with a small, shy smile meant only for your eyes to see. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
“Okay,” you repeat, smiling shyly before finally – finally – squeezing his hand back.
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You tug at your champagne dress uncomfortably. It might’ve been a little too tight for your liking, but Yuuji insisted it was the dress, and no dress would be better for tonight’s dinner. The strapless dress hugged your figure elegantly, the material flowing smoothly as it extends past your knees. Pairing it with some kitten hells, you were confident you cleaned up well – aside from the problem at hand that you couldn’t breathe. You weren’t sure if the dress was too tight, or you were simply too nervous.
You’d closed up the restaurant early in hopes of having some privacy, even going as far to close the velvety black curtains to hide yourselves from prying eyes. But with every minute that passed by, the special dish you’d prepared with your mother’s secret recipe grew cold. Not a single notification beeped from your phone. Not a text, or a call – not even from his secretary. Nothing but pure silence on his side.
Standing up with a grim expression, you pinch the candle to kill the flame.
What were you even thinking? Did you really think someone as untouchable like Gojo Satoru actually wanted to go on a date with you?
You looked around the restaurant that held a special spot in your heart. It might not be up to his standards, but it meant the world you. It was a product of your hard work and passion. This career enabled you to design it yourself, to build it from the ground up. You’ve decorated it solely to impress Satoru for tonight – with golden chandeliers hanging in a waterfall and teardrop patterns, the tables equipped with satin napkins and silverware polished to perfection. All that effort just went down the drain.
Your eyes fall to your wristwatch. Your father leant it to you before you moved to the city to follow his dreams, saying “Keep this, my sweet daughter. Time passes by so fast in the city and I don’t want you to lose a single second of your life. People will always pass by in a hurried blur, or not come at all.”
Isn’t that what you were doing right now, waiting for someone that might never come at all? He was right. You didn’t need to wait around. Satoru had his own life, he belonged to the city and its fast-paced rambunctiousness. You weren’t like him, you reminded yourself. You and him lived in completely opposite worlds.
Pressing your lips into a thin line, you sigh and start to pick up the untouched dishes.
Gojo Satoru was a man who lived and breathed along with the city, the erratic pulse of the city lights resembling the skip in his steps whenever the paparazzi caught up to him. Even if you were somehow on par with him with your own successful career, tonight was still a harsh reminder of the fact that there would always be a massive difference between the both of you.
Your purpose was to serve people and give them memories of a hearty meal. Satoru bent people with his own hands, and obviously wouldn’t even give you the time of day. Perhaps you’d read the signs wrong – if there were even signs at all. One praise from him didn’t mean he liked you, after all, and why would he? He’d admitted out loud he couldn’t even remember what your food tasted like. Hours and years perfecting your craft, and he’d forgotten it all because ‘he had matters to deal with.’ God. Did he see you like that, too? Just another issue to be dealt with, another box in his list to be ticked off?
You’re about to throw away the wasted food when the glass doors of your restaurant opened. You stood back, Satoru all but running and heaving so heavily with beads of sweat running down his face.
“Wait,” he gasped out, raising a finger to give him a moment. “Don’t – don’t close yet. Just let me breathe.”
Did he run here?
Frowning, you scan his outfit. He’s dressed up more than usual today, yet his coat jacket is wrinkled and his hair is all messed up, possibly from running all the way here. His baby blue shirt is also damp with sweat. You immediately reach for some towels and make your way to him – reaching up to pat his face dry when the two of you freeze. Your eyes are blown wide, and so are his. His chest staggers with each breath he takes, and delicately, he holds your hand. His brows furrow and he exhales, his breath minty and his scent intoxicating. You’re captivated with every inch of him – from his white lashes, to the slope of his nose, the fullness of his glossy lips.
You never realized how much you’d missed him until you thought he would never come.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice willowy soft. Closing his eyes, he reaches for your hands, burying his cheek into it and pressing a kiss to the insides of your wrist. The action is unbelievably tender, surprisingly intimate, but could anything feel more right? “My latest shipbuilding company just launched, and we had the opening ceremony at my newest cruise. I would have gotten here on time, but the formalities took longer than expected when a Duke came to send his congratulations.”
You open your mouth to say it’s okay, but you know it’s not. He knows it’s not. It’s already midnight and he made you wait for six hours – no calls, no texts, nothing to inform you he’d run a bit late. It makes you feel stupid for taking the time and effort to dress up, enduring the pain of having Yuuji force you to try on different dresses that would suit you best. It’s embarrassing enough that you don’t have friends to share this moment with. The poor boy had been so excited, too, texting you every hour to ask how it’s going. You just didn’t have the heart to tell him Satoru wasn’t coming.
A pregnant pause settles between you. You see Satoru swallow and fidget with his hands, almost as if he knows you’re disappointed in him. You’re really not, though. At least it wouldn’t be disappointment that you’re feeling. You’re just… hurt.
You look at him one last time. You’re about to call it a night, because you’re a person of punctuality, and you don’t take rejection very well – all of which Satoru has made you feel sensitive over. Right now, you feel humiliated and belittled. Like your time wasn’t worth as much as is. But then you see Satoru, the way he folds in on himself, looking down at his feet and gnawing at his feet that you can’t help that maybe he, too, mustn’t have wanted to miss this.
Sometimes it is so easy to forget Satoru was human too. That he struggled as well, that with his power came with the undeniable fact that this friendship – or whatever this budding relationship is – would not be easy.
You sigh, flicking his nose to call his attention in hopes of lightening the mood.
“I understand your work is more important than a dinner with a friend,” you declare slowly, gauging for his reaction. “But out of courtesy, I would have appreciated an early notice if you couldn’t make it on time.”
Satoru’s face lights up. Pleased with your answer, and undeniably taken aback – he was a master in his craft of sales; he knew the right things to say to get whatever he wanted, but social interactions were not his forte. He realizes though, right in that moment, that it’s something he’d like to work on more. He doesn’t want to see that look on your face again when he ran inside – your crestfallen face, a momentary lapse of relief and worry, and now with hurtful eyes.
“I’ll take note of that,” he promises, already moving to pull out your chair for you. “Shall we have dinner, then?”
“Actually,” you start, with a glint forming in your eye. “I think I’d want to have dinner on this cruise of yours, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”
Smirking at your answer, Satoru tilts his head sideways. “It’s not an everyday occurrence that I have to ask for someone’s forgiveness, so I don’t see why not.”
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You liked to think you’re a simple person.
You love nature, and hold the firm belief that whatever is done upon you would always return back to the person. You remember crying in your mother’s arms when you were a little girl, frustrated that humans had tortured their own planet and how you wanted to reverse climate change. Growing up in the countryside surrounded by endless fields of crops and an abundance of greenery, the city and its chaos shook you to your core.
The flashing lights felt blinding and overwhelming. You hated the smell of smoke and pollution, feeling suffocated by the change in atmosphere. You found yourself often glaring at the tall buildings that always stood dominatingly over everyone, as if to say that its towering height could only be reached by those select few.
Its owners stood over you like gods watching from the sky, and they had the power to create their own temples that soared all the way to the sky – a galaxy and universe entirely of their own.
Now, you’re not so sure you still hold that same predicament as you take in the blueness of the sea, the salty breeze nipping at your skin. You welcome it with a shrug of Satoru’s coat around your shoulders, so enamored with the sound of waves lapping against each other. You don’t notice the man standing next to you, or the way he studies your reactions with an amused smile. He realizes you look so innocent like this – your mouth curling into small smiles as you point to the dolphins. The realization comes to him like a sudden splash to his face – that he’s never felt this light before, and it’s always only with you.
After taking you to his cruise, you practically pushed him out of the kitchen as you prepared another meal of two. The meal was nothing short of ravishing, making Satoru momentarily forget about table manners as he inhaled it. The expensive champagne and hors d’oeuvres sloshes around his stomach with each sway of the cruise. Dinner had been pleasant; you were a great listener who gave him his undivided attention – the type that made him squeamish because he felt exposed from the core within. He’d grown up used to people eager to please him, but this was the first time someone had listened to him intently with the intention of knowing him. And when you asked what made him sincerely happy, Satoru realizes that he does not have the answer to everything.
“I’m not sure,” he admits, twirling the fork aimlessly as he tries to avoid your prying gaze. “Happiness is fleeting in my world and… I’ve just never found it. My whole life, all I’ve ever done is work and make my business grow, and I guess I’m happy enough with that.”
You hum in response. He looks up to see you gazing at him, deep in thought. You almost looked sad in that moment – sad for him. It isn’t any later that he realizes you sympathize with him, an emotion he’d been alien to. It goes without saying that you felt the emptiness, the hollowness carved out from Satoru’s heart, and how lonely he’d been all this time. And you found it funny, how someone could have so much, and so very little at the same time.
“Come with me.”
He stares at your outstretched hand. It’s difficult to silence all the voices in his head before he places his hands in yours, trying not to melt when you smile up at him. Gently, you lead him to the balcony – the freshness of the air waking him up from his sense. Due to the fact that Satoru was a perfectionist and had zero tolerance, he designed the cruise himself to its glorious beauty. Yet he remained oblivious to the wonders of it all, the beauty of the moment from where he stood. The sea is calm and soothing, the whole expanse of Tokyo – his empire – visible from he stood. He tells himself the night isn’t beautiful because of the romantic lights, or the jazz music playing from the speakers, but rather it’s the celebrity chef who was starting to grow on him.
From the corner of his eye, he watches your smile grow bigger, your cheeks puffing out from the cold. It’s undeniably adorable. Ever since that night he met you, he’d read a few articles about you, and even had Mei-Mei call publishing companies to give him new copies of whoever featured you. You only had a few pictures taken – his shy, sweet chef – always wearing an apron and never a smile.
To see you with your guard down, looking so happy and free, he might’ve gotten his answer that night.
You were his happiness.
“Doesn’t it look beautiful?” you ask him, smile still so wide, and it is evident you adore nature. He makes a mental note to open an orchidarium soon, or perhaps a tea shop with only the rarest of leaves for brewing, silently hoping he’d get to see more of that smile.
“Yes, it does.”
Indeed, you looked beautiful like this. The bright lights of the city painted your skin in a warm glow. You looked like an ethereal combination between sunset and sunrise, and he swore in that moment you embodied the sea itself. You were calm, quiet, reserved – much like him – but you held this aura from your presence alone that made him feel safe; there was something about you that assured him he could just be… him.
You were like a breath of fresh air, and it would be a waste not to breathe you in.
Satoru calls out your name. When you look up at him, the breeze whips your hair to the side, exposing a set of hesitant eyes that makes him take a tentative step forward. It isn’t the wine, or the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He thinks it’s just you that makes him feel this way – undoubtedly whole and alive. He is not a man fond of making mistakes, and he is not about to make one now and not kiss you.
“Can I kiss you?”
He waits for it – waits for you to tease him, that he doesn’t have to ask. But there’s none of that. There is only the sharp intake of your breath, the minute way you grasp your pearl necklace to yourself. “I-I don’t know how to.”
Satoru steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away. You turn rigid despite yourself, feeling his hand cup the back of your neck. You tilt your head sideways to let him have more access, his warm breath that smelled faintly of wine fanning over your skin.
“May I teach you then?”
You whimper in response, and he holds back a groan at the sound, silently wishing to hear more of it from the future. When his pillowy lips press against yours in the first contact, your eyes remain blown wide as you stare back at his closed ones. Fear settles in you that this is your first kiss, and you have absolutely no idea how to do it. But then he pushes back with a little more force this time, and you close your eyes and moan, your lips moving in rhythm with his. Your hand reaches up to fist the silky fabric of his suit that hugged his muscular figure sinfully. He’s firm and solid under your touch, like an anchor holding you down. And his taste – he tastes like everything you’ve ever wished for, everything you’ve ever wanted. He is the wine you get drunk on, the sugar you lick off your lips, and the taste of heaven on this earth.
Satoru swallows the moans you make, his large hands engulfing your face. With each sound you make, his tongue playfully pokes at your lips, begging for entrance. And you let him, melting at his touch and held up only by his firm grip sliding down to your waist.
The first contact of his tongue coaxing out yours to play has you almost quivering under him. Those large hands come up to the bare skin of your back, his cold skin sending a harsh bite to your warm, flustered one as he holds you steadily. Your other hand reaches out to tug at his hair and he groans, a sound so masculine yet so wanton that a flame burns within you. You find yourself battling your tongue with his – a sensual dance where there are no winners. A minute passes before you two break apart, foreheads pressed against each other as you both try to catch your breath.
“Can I keep going?” He asks, his deep voice faltering due to the lack of breath. You feel triumphant knowing you did that to him. Nodding, he places his hands under your ass and squeezes it in a silent command to jump, and you do so with your hands interlocked at the back of his head. Satoru dips down to kiss you again and turns you into a moaning mess. He rocks his body against you, grinds his muscles to the softness of your body, groaning when his erection presses up to your heat. How he managed to pull away in between kisses is beyond you. “Are you sure about this?” He mumbles against your lips.
“Yes,” you plead, crashing your lips back down to his. And somehow, Satoru stumbles to a room where he finally gets a taste of you.
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Satoru is woken up by the harsh lights glaring at him.
Groaning, he places an arm above his eyes before deciding to sit up and start his day. The freshly washed linen of the blanket pools at his waist, and he squints his eyes to take in his surroundings. For a moment, the bedroom is unrecognizable, and when last night’s events become clear to him, he chuckles drily to himself.
Had he gone so far that he no longer recognized his own bedroom? But then again, he rarely went home. His properties all looked differently that he wasn’t surprised anymore.
Your neatly folded dress sits at the bedside table. His shirt – nowhere to be seen. He finds his pants at the pile of clothes left on the floor, though, and he quickly puts them on before the amazing aroma of waffles welcomes his senses. Walking out the room, Satoru is pleased by the sight before him – you in his shirt, bottomless, humming to yourself as you expertly maneuver around his kitchen.
Smiling, Satoru walks to the marbled countertops and wraps an arm around your waist. You stiffen under his hold before you realize it’s him.
“Good morning,” he greets, deep voice still a little croaky and you greet him back, resting your chin on his shoulder as he watches you crack some eggs. “Did you get a good sleep?”
You shrug teasingly and brush your lip against his ear, “Kind of hard not to, after last night’s events.” As you expected, his cheeks soon become dusted in light pink and you chuckle, leaning back to his solid chest with warmth blanketing you.
“Sit down, let’s have breakfast.”
Satoru is more than happy to obey. Munching gratefully, the comfortable silence is almost too good to be true.
It’s been months since you and Satoru started going out. You’ve both done a good job at keeping it from the media so far – a mutual decision because you liked your privacy, and Satoru didn’t want anyone tainting what he held close. He’s grown so accustomed to your presence that half of his closet is filled with your things. You basically lived at his house in Tokyo now, and your body just naturally angles itself in a way that allows him to always have him touching you.
Although you still scrunch your nose in distaste at the thousand dollar monotonous paintings that decorate his walls, you like being with him. You soon learn of his weird habit of not closing doors simply because he’s always surrounded by automatic ones, successfully eradicating his attempts at being a gentleman and having him open doors for you, but you don’t mind. Not really.
The past few months have been nothing but eye-opening for him, as he learns to love for the first time, and he could only hope this feeling in his chest isn’t something fleeting.
You were affectionate, never lacking or selfish when it comes to showing him how much like him, and he’ll admit he likes your kisses more than he’d like to accept, and that’s how he knows this relationship isn’t one sided. Still, the small fear that settles at the back of his head remains, that maybe you don’t love him, or at least, you’re not there yet. Watching you prepare his breakfast every morning, however, Satoru’s worries are silenced. He’ll worry about that another time.
He finishes first and moves to do the dishes, the loud running of water muting your hurried footsteps behind his. He can’t help but smile when you eagerly take the sponge from his gloved hands and look at him determinedly.
“What are you doing?” He asks teasingly, and you stick your tongue at him.
“Move, Gojo. We both know you don’t know how to wash dishes.”
Even after months of being with you, he’s still not used to the fact that he – a man everyone admired and – could experience a love like this someday.
You scrunch your nose up cutely that it takes all of his willpower not to bend down and kiss it. “I said move! Scoot your cute butt out of here.”
“Baby, it’s okay, I know you don’t know how to do it and I don’t mind. Besides, I have to learn to do this. What if we get married and have children, I obviously can’t let you do everything by yourself.”
You freeze at his words, your thick-rimmed glasses sliding off your nose awkwardly. Your whole life, you’ve dreamt of love, and imagined settling down and having your own family. Despite your rising fame and success, turning you into one of the wealthiest women in your country, you never planned to live as a celebrity chef for the rest of your life. You wanted to live simply, much like your parents, and to spend the rest of your days in a farm.
You’ve thought it about before, of course, the possibly of marrying Satoru.
But the thought had been too ridiculous at the moment. Satoru was always somewhere far away, rising from his seat with practiced elegance as he received yet another presitigious award for his endless accomplishments. The cameras would be pointed his way, and he basked under the spotlight. He thrived in it.
Your silence doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He watches as you revert back to your expressionless face, eyes looking directly forward at the white tiled backsplash of his sink that you know cost thousands. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t.”
And it is true, you aren’t bothered by the least bit. Surprised, definitely, but you’re beyond elation at this point. You realize it doesn’t matter that you probably won’t get to live the life you want if you marry him – because he’s all you want. If giving it all up meant being with him, you would do so in a heartbeat.
Which is why you grit your teeth silently as you attend your first ball overseas, latched onto Satoru’s arm. You don’t miss the way everyone scrutinizes the seemingly average looking woman next to Japan’s darling.
Satoru doesn’t notice that you’re a bundle of nerves. He smiles brightly at the multitude of cameras pointed your way, making sure to show off the Gojo heirloom he decorated you with. It’s a gold ring with a hundred mini diamonds encrusted in it, the characters ‘Gojo’ engraved underneath. A horde of reports soon come into view, and instinctively, you duck your head when the lights become overwhelming. They all spew out questions asking since when the two of you have been dating – and this is the part you hated the most.
The part where your life becomes a piece for the people to feast on, instead of something you made for yourself.
You opt to stay silent and let Satoru answer everything. He isn’t fazed by the least bit, answering them confidently, although not giving away too much personal information. He tells them you’ve been dating for a year now, and it’s evident in his eyes that he feels strongly for you. Not a moment later, the cameras pan your way, the people eager to hear your side of the story.
“Chef, how have you managed to steal his heart?”
“As the old saying goes, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” you tell them, your heart beating a mile a minute from the discomfort of too much attention. You turn to your fiancé in hopes of consolation. He smiles at you encouragingly, the warmth and adoration pooling behind it immediately dissipates your nervousness. “As long as it’s for him, I don’t mind going to the moon and back.”
They seem satisfied with that answer, and you find yourselves in the front cover of both local and foreign magazines, the world crazed about the latest couple.
Satoru is lying on his tiger fur rug with crossed legs, leafing through every page of your photo album. His free hand absentmindedly rubs circles where it’s settled at your hip, the sound of his breathing steady and almost lulling. Yet, you’re bothered by everything lately – how you’re being reminded of everything you don’t like about this world – his world.
They don’t even know the real you. How could the world go from praising you for your skills in cooking, to being both shamed and admired for being engaged to Satoru? Your heart clenched at the multiple headlines that called you a gold-digger.
As if you didn’t have your own money.
“Hey,” Satoru mumbles, twisting a little from his position. You’re looking at everywhere but him, your heart heavy and mind a mess. It’s too late when Satoru notices the dark circles rimmed under your eyes, and he cups your face worriedly, tilting your chin to make you look into his eyes. Your own face has fallen, your eyes sad. He immediately feels guilt, unaware of what he made you endure at his expense.
Perhaps he wasn’t as observant as he claimed to be. Ever since he’s announced your relationship, you’ve received countless criticism from the public. Satoru never said a word about it, thinking these strangers’ words wouldn’t affect you, or that it didn’t matter because who were they, anyway? And you never spoke about it either, not wanting to put a heavier weight on his already burdened shoulders.
“I’ll take care of it, alright? I promise.”
You know what he means.
It means he’ll end up spending a lot of money – although to him it’s probably just a penny – as he has Mei-Mei get rid of those negative articles. You know he has enough power to shut down even an entire publishing company who attempted to say anything bad about you. You don’t want him doing any of that, abusing his power and throwing around his money just because he can.
Shaking your head, you reach forward and press your face against his chest. “You don’t have to do that. I just have to prove to everyone I am worthy of you.”
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It is way past four in the morning, and you wake up with a stir, only to find the light of Satoru’s laptop illuminating his worn-out face. In front of him are a plethora of reports, glasses perched on top of his face. You sit up with a stretch, and he jumps a little at the movement.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“No,” you answer, rubbing your eyes tiredly and looking at his work. You don’t understand half of it, but you knows it’s something about a new hotel he’s planning on developing somewhere in the country. “It’s late. Why are you still working?”
“Business is business,” he shrugs, focusing his attention back to his work. The development plan has just finished, and the cost of construction is nothing but another penny less to his account.
The silence in the room stills. You strain your ears to listen to the sound of a faint clock ticking, Satoru’s steady breathing calming your nerves. His eyes are droopy and tired, and he lets out an exhausted sigh. Reaching over to pull the laptop away from him, you gently place your head above his beating heart. His shirt smells faintly of floral detergent, and you fist the fabric underneath your fingers.
He doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t need to.
He places a soft kiss at the crown of your head, once, then twice, and a small smile fights through your face. The rhythmic thumping of his heart is just underneath your open palm, and you realize that Satoru is like the man-made river outside your house. He is calm, steady, always lulling you into a state of relaxation, and the music that is his love hums softly through your nerves until he places himself inside your heart.
The darkness of your room is a huge contrast to the flashing lights always directed his way, but it fits perfectly. Satoru is silent, even if he always brought attention to himself, and his muscles are firm underneath your touch.
His bicep curls around you to wrap you in a one arm embrace while his other hand rubs your back soothingly, and your bare thigh brushes against his groin. An innocent and accidental gesture, but it has your nerves firing up, and it just occurred to you how small you seem inside his arms. You found it funny, since Satoru could threaten to take away everything from you, yet you don’t feel like that around him. Here, you feel safe, warm, accepted.
You nuzzle closer to him with a frown.
“Take me somewhere.”
His chest vibrates with a hum, “Where do you want to go?”
“Take me to where your heart desires. Show me where you want to spend the rest of your life.”
Satoru can’t contain the smile that graces his face, and he holds your hand as you stare at Leiden in awe. He’s decided to take a one week break, and soon the two of you were nestled against each other in his private jet, and he’s not sure if he’s ever felt this happy before.
He learns that you love art and fancy medieval paintings the most, and you bounce happily when he takes you to one of the art museums.
Leiden is rich in history and culture, that much is evident with how the people still keep their traditions alive, and while it is still quite a popular city, the toned down bustling of people will always be a much preferred scene for him than Tokyo. The two of you have rented a bike to Noordwijk Beach, and you make him promise to swim with you there the next day. Wordlessly, he nods, basking in the way the warm light emitted from lampposts turns you into an ethereal being.
After returning the bikes into the rental shop, you swing your intertwined hands back and forth, pointing excitedly and exclaiming your delight at the lakes that surrounded the city.
A windmill sits in the middle of the city, and Satoru falls in love with the place even more. A smile is permanently etched into your face, and his heart manages to stutter even after being with you for so long, but he can’t help it. Lifting your interlocked hands to his lips, he kisses your palm, a fine pink dusting his cheeks as you stare at him incredulously. A moment passes before you giggle, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.
Satoru didn’t know it was possible to blush even harder.
His stomach growls in hunger and you chuckle, leading him to one of your restaurants. Your waiters and chefs greet you excitedly, surprised that the owner dropped by unannounced. You lift a hand to tell them not to worry – you’re not here to evaluate anything. You’re simply on vacation, and you had full trust in your people. The pleased look decorating the customer’s face said enough that you didn’t have much to worry about.
Shrugging off your coat and placing it on the back of your chair, Satoru watches as you place your head in your palms, eyes directed outside the window. Outside lay the lake and a bunch of canoes housing the body of water, old couples walking around with wines hidden in paper bags, and the soft chatter and melodious laughter ringing from every corner of the place has him believing that perhaps this is paradise.
“Have you ever been before?”
“Once,” he replies with a small smile. “I came here for business. That hotel is mine.”
He points to a building that resembles a medieval castle, and you adjust the glasses perched on your nose to see it better. “Why am I not surprised?”
Letting out an amused laugh at your question, the both of you soon dig into the dish, bellies rumbling in satisfaction. You are half drunk on the way back to the small villa you rented, and he doesn’t question why you didn’t choose to stay at his hotel instead. There’s a little tumble to your steps as you stagger forward, mumbling incoherent words. Satoru presses you closer to his warm body to prevent you from falling forwards, his eyes crinkling when you tell him how much you love him. His heart whines at your words, because you’ve never told him that, and even though you’re drunk, he thinks he will be as equally euphoric if you tell him sober. He actually feels a little ashamed you said it before him because he’s planning to tell you sooner than later, and he clears his throat before pulling away from you.
You frown at his action.
Licking his lips nervously, Satoru pulled out a velvet box and went down on one knee.
“I know you’re drunk and this ring is a little too expensive than you’d like, but I don’t think there’s a better time for this, and we’ve been dating for so long that I just wanted to let you know–”
Grumbling in annoyance under your breath as an attempt to conceal your shaking knees, you lean down and pull him harshly by his collar to press your lips against his.
Satoru stiffens underneath your touch. He stops breathing, eyes wide from surprise. You only pull away when he doesn’t respond, your glasses sliding off your nose and bumping into yours. He lifts a hand to his wet lips, looking at you like you’ve just assaulted him, and judging by how plump lips looked red and swollen, you probably did. Not that he’d complain, of course.
“Of course I’ll marry you.”
Satoru lets out a nervous laugh that is laced with elation, his breath coming out in cold fogs due to the cold weather. His hands are shaking as he struggles to wear the ring around your hand, to which you roll your eyes and wear it yourself. He looks sheepish for a moment, scratching the back of his head, but you can’t find yourself to care.
This is where you belong, with him, in Leiden, and little did you know that you were fulfilling his dreams one by one.
The both of you walk back home with bashful grins coated in glee.
Satoru feels stupid that he suddenly feels shy. It would be a lie to say he’s dreamt of this ever since he was a child because he grew up knowing very little of it. He’s never dated nor felt any attraction for someone, always focusing on his work and further expanding the business to the best of his abilities. He never dreamt marrying for love could be a possibility. That this was now his reality. And when you steal a peck to his cheek that makes his face heat up further, he realizes nothing has ever felt more right.
You’re the only one he would ever need.
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To say that you’re ecstatic to plan the wedding would be an understatement. Ever since you came back to Tokyo with hearts overflowing with joy, you could no longer contain the love you had for your fiance. You’d been looking at endless articles of what makes a wedding perfect, and you already had your wedding dress in mind.
The food tasting appointment you had this weekend was on hold since Satoru still had a tight schedule, something about the launch of a new resort in Bali, but he comes back to you with tired eyes and a satisfied smile.
“Hey,” you greet, rising from the couch to help him with his bags. Not that you needed to, Mei-Mei and Toji were already taking care of them, but you still wanted to be of help. Shrugging off his coat, Satoru plops down the couch with a groan. “Long day?”
He pops one eye open to offer a languid smile, “Long week, babe. I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you mumble, going behind him and massaging his stiff shoulders. Satoru lets out a moan at the sensation. And you? You can’t help but smile when you see that your engagement ring is still wound around his finger, and you wonder if the press had already noticed and started making a fuss about what you knew would be the wedding of the century.
Truth be told, you preferred the wedding to be small – with just your family and close friends. Satoru didn’t have any, but you respected his decision of hiring a wedding planner whose service cost a million. You protested at first, thinking it was unnecessary, but Satoru had already given you the check. The wedding planner seemed genuinely pleased to be working with you as well, leaving you with no other choice but to press your mouth into a thin line.
Ah, now that you think about it… “Are you free this Thursday? I wanted to introduce you to my parents.”
He stands up from the couch and walks to your shared bedroom, gently dragging you along with him. “Introduce me? Shouldn’t your parents already know me?”
You force a small smile as you bury yourself underneath the covers. “I meant formally, they’re going to be your parents soon, too.”
“Okay… talk to Mei-Mei to schedule that.”
You fight the urge to raise a brow. You couldn’t see the need to talk to his secretary to have time with your fiancé, but like you have been doing for the past few months, you only nod. Satoru wraps his arms around your waist after that, and it doesn’t take long before sleep blankets you both.
Somehow, you’d always known.
A relationship with Satoru wouldn’t be easy. There was too much unwanted attention and too little time to be with him. But he was worth the wait.
+
The food tasting went well. He ended up being more than pleased at your food choices, and you even bump your hips against his. Satoru wanted a cake that was two feet tall, with golden drapes hanging from the rods, silently demanding for caviar to be included. You shrugged it off, not minding his preferences as you continued speaking to the chef. The poor man had been trembling ever since Satoru walked in the kitchen, his phone pulled out and constantly interrupting the tasting as he speaks to his clients.
You felt bad for the old man, you really did. He was far more skilled than you, and you shook his hand politely before walking back to Satoru’s limousine.
It was finally time to meet your parents.
Reaching out for your fiancé, Satoru flicks your hand away. He shoots you an irritated look as he gestures to his phone, as if to say not to interrupt him during an important phone call. Reluctantly you retract your hand, biting the inside of your cheek as you let him go back to his business. Hurt and undeniably upset, you distract yourself with the small iPad on the seat in front of you, watching a lame show about fashion runways and whatnot.
“Yes, I know,” Satoru says through the phone, exasperated as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean he can’t make it on time? He needs to be there to check the labels – you know what? Whatever, fire him, I’ll go there myself.”
Sensing his distress, you turn to him. He’s huffing and crossing his arms against his chest, a livid expression on his face. You don’t ask what happened because you know you won’t understand. You’re only happy Satoru finally lets you hold his hand. Pressing his head against the seat, Satoru squeezes your palm, watching as the familiar buildings of the city soon blur into a scenery of corn fields and flowery land.
To be truthful, you think he’s a little too overdressed for this occasion. He’s wearing the latest Burberry collection, the shades he’d pulled to shield his sensitive eyes from the sunset a little too… flashy. But, you thought to yourself, Satoru could do whatever he wanted.
Finally, after a long and grueling car ride that seemed to last forever, you reached your destination.
You immediately run to the farmhouse, leaving behind Satoru in your excitement. You’d been away from your parents too long that you missed them dearly. Behind you, Satoru tries to keep up his face – gladly welcoming the fresh air. From afar, the door to your house opens as you tackle a small, older woman into your arms.
Satoru’s gait is slow, precise, and elegant. He walked with purpose, standing behind you silently as he witnessed the sweet exchange between you and your mother. It’s then he notices, when your mother looks up from your shoulders, that her eyes twinkled the same you did whenever you saw him. She’s sweet, and a little too bubbly, as she welcomes him to your humble home.
And as if you’ve sensed his uneasiness, you look back to Satoru and offer an encouraging smile.
The entirety of your house is as large as his bathroom. And your couch squeaks uncomfortably when he sits on it. The leather is tattered and foam springs out from the little cracks and you almost look embarrassed, but he kisses your cheek to reassure you he doesn’t mind. Your father soon emerges from the kitchen holding a fresh pot of tea that he offers, and Satoru takes a hesitant sip – your family anxiously gauging his reaction.
The tea… It was actually sweet and better than anything he’s ever had, and when his cheeks start to warm from the attention, you all start laughing for no reason.
Satoru joins in the laughter. He doesn’t know why he did when he found nothing funny, but felt that it was the most appropriate reaction.
It was no wonder then that you were such an amazing chef. You must’ve inherited it from your father’s impeccable cooking skills. The stew he prepared was amazing, and Satoru had to control himself from slurping the beef stew – it tasted that good. Dinner was absolutely amazing, and you kept laughing and smiling from your seat as you conversed with your parents. Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this happy.
The baby pink turtleneck sweater you wore highlighted the softness of your heart, and even a blind man could see you really missed your parents. He felt like a stranger then; someone who watched from the outside as your mother reaches over the table to wipe a rice grain from the corner of your mouth. You whine at her gesture, obviously not wanting to be treated like a little kid.
“Mum, that’s embarrassing. I’m with the love of my life, you know,”
He almost chokes at his spoon when you say that, and your mother grins at him. “I wouldn’t worry about that, my dear, it looks like he really loves you no matter what.”
“Yes, Mother,” he agrees, squeezing your thighs from under the table, “I really do.”
There was a warmth in your home that he’d never known, and laughter was always present. Much like you, your father was a man of few words and passed out on the couch after three bottles of soju, leaving you and your mom to clean up after dinner.
Satoru offered to help, only to receive amused glances as if you knew he couldn’t do it. Embarrassed, he excused himself as you cleaned up, and sat on the curb outside your house.
From his peripheral vision, he could see Toji beside the car, standing tall and straight. The cold breeze from the countryside made his dark hair blow across the wind. As if feeling there were eyes on him, Toji peered at Satoru, nodding politely before looking straight ahead. His suit was Giorgo Armani, the one he’d gifted him on his birthday last year. He’s well-aware that Toji ended up making more money driving for him than you ever could with your restaurant.
And this was his reality. This was his world.
Someone like Satoru shouldn’t be sitting on the molded curb of a farmhouse with nothing but mountain and hills surrounding him. The moon and the stars were the only things that gave light to the field, and it was too humble for his liking. He didn’t belong here – that much was clear – and even the scarecrow standing a few feet away from him seemed to agree with its mocking glare.
Much too soon for his liking, Satoru feels a wool sweater being wrapped around his shoulders. He turns to you, a smile already on your face as you plopped down beside him. Playing with your fingers, you keep your gaze down at your feet, hesitant and nervous.
“Satoru… I know you won’t like it, but I’d like to wear my Mom’s wedding dress. It’s fine if you say no, I know you had Vera Wang make an entire collection for me already, but I thought I had to let you know…”
Satoru starts to play with the straw in front of him. He sighs, fiddling his smooth fingers around it before he clutches your hand in his lap. He’d held you a thousand times before, and yet he couldn’t remember if your skin was rough or smooth – only that it felt warm and he liked holding it. And as if he couldn’t help himself, his gaze studied you – how your boots are a little too big on your feet, and you smelled faintly of hay unlike the Maison Francis Kurkdjian perfume he’d gotten you. It was limited edition, too, and he’d had to pull strings just to get you one.
And you couldn’t even wear it for tonight.
An almost choked sob leaves his throat, his heart clenching uncomfortably. He did want you to wear your mother’s wedding dress. Being here, away from the press and businessmen who always tried to mess up his deals when he worked honestly, made him feel like for once – he was a normal human being. That he wasn’t some god whose footsteps were worshipped.
Your mother had welcomed him warmly, and she didn’t even gush about the expensive fabrics of his clothes. She saw him as if he was her own son, and he supposed soon enough he would be, but would he be good enough? She’d raised her daughter as a warm, loving, and humble person. You were down to earth and loved to stay solid and grounded – Satoru was a man who always reached for the stars.
What did that make you then? His fall from the heavens?
Satoru wonders how much of his thoughts were written on his face. You watched him, brows dipped downwards with a clenched jaw. He knows you’re fighting back something to say.  He was too familiar with that look – since Mei-Mei always looked like that. The type of expression etched into his employees’ faces when he shouted at them for their incompetence, and they felt the need to defend themselves. They never did, out of fear Satoru would fire them.
Although you never said it, your face said it all.
He remembers the longing gazes you had to the farmhouses in Leiden with its windmill barns, or how your smile got bigger when a cute kid walked by and waved at you both. You don’t need to say anything because he knows what you’re thinking – that you’re blinded by your love for him.
He still remembers that damned event when your grip on his cat got a little tighter, how your hairline beaded with sweat as you kept fidgeting. You’d been uncomfortable that night, as you always did when you were in his world. You weren’t like this – placid, unreserved, happy.
And now he’s in your world. The words bubble up in your throat, wanting to wipe that disappointed look in his handsome face. You knew even if you say it now, Satoru wouldn’t listen or understand. And it’s funny – how he asked you to marry him, and how willing you were to give up on your dreams if it meant being with him. Even if it meant throwing yourself into unwanted attention, only to be criticized mercilessly – because that’s what it took to be with him.
He was a man with an empire, but with it came the price of being someone who destroyed others.
Somehow, it never crossed your mind it might include you, too.
“You’re right,” he says after a moment, “I would rather you wear Vera Wang’s gown. I hope you don’t find any offense in it, but our wedding will be the wedding of the century. I can’t have you wearing a nameless gown when the whole world will be looking.”
Your grip on his hand tightens for a second before it loosens. Satoru watches, with a heavy heart and an aching soul, as you nod slowly. Forcing a smile on your face, you stood up and walked away from him. You bid your farewells soon after that, with Satoru cringing the moment your parents began to refer to him as their ‘son.’
The whole ride back home is silent.
You’re passed out on his side, your soft snores filling the silence. Satoru reaches over to caress your cheek before leaning back in his seat, clenching his teeth hard to stop the tears from falling. He couldn’t put it into words – the air of finality settling over you once you reach his penthouse.
You’re exhausted from the day, stripping your clothes off before burying yourself under the covers. Your arm seeks out the familiar feeling of having him close next to you, and he indulges you, burying his face against the crook of your neck one more time – one last time. When you mumble his name in your sleep, Satoru swallows the lump forming on his throat, biting down on his lip before gazing at you – knowing you’d been his, knowing he’d miss this. Miss you.
And perhaps that’s what hurts the most – that he’s already missing you when you’re pressed up next to him, that he’s already mourning the presence of someone who he hasn’t lost yet.
But he knew, the end was inevitably near.
So he kisses you, long and hard enough that it hopes it leaves an imprint. You’re unaware of it all, still deep in your slumber even when his eyes betray him and a tear falls. The teardrop lands on your cheek before it slides down your jaw.
Above you, Satoru’s shoulders are shaking and he wants to laugh – because he’s never cried before. He’s never cried when his own friends tried to sabotage him. He’s never cried when the whole world called him a heartless demon walking in the body a wannabe man. He never cried when the world misunderstood him, yet here he was, perfectly content being in your arms, even if he doesn’t deserve it.
For once in his life, Satoru wanted to do what was right. If he couldn’t stop himself from ruining things and hurting those around him, then perhaps this time around he could prevent the only good thing to ever happen to him from shattering.
No amount of money would be able to give you what you truly wanted, and that’s all he had. Satoru had nothing but money, had nothing but it to offer aside from giving you back your freedom. He may be the one that you loved, and for that he would always be grateful, but he was also old enough to know that sometimes, love simply wasn’t enough. You had your own world, and Satoru had the entire universe.
The only world where the two of you could live happily was the one you spent apart from each other.
Unwrapping his arm around yours, Satoru silently trudges to the bedside table to wear his coat and shoes. Giving you one last glance, he takes off his engagement ring, and places it beside the framed photo of you and him in Leiden – this time with no flashing lights.
532 notes · View notes
shotoh · 2 years
Text
all mine
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SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 9.6k+
genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst
tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language
author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 
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The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.
“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.
“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.
The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”
Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.
A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.
She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.
One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.
If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.
Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.
Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”
Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.
“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”
“But–”
“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.
“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”
.
.
Man, what an annoying woman.
Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.
His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.
“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.
But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.
Besides...
“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”
His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”
He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.
You.
“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.
After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.
While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.
The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.
Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.
Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.
You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.
The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.
Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.
Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.
Fuckin’ hell.
The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.
In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.
Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”
The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.
His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.
Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.
“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.
The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”
He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.
You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.
Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.
“You’re killing me here, dammit.”
You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”
He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.
Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.
He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.
“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”
The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.
Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.
Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.
The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.
He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.
“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.
Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”
“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.
Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”
“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.
“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”
He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”
“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”
“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.
“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”
“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”
Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.
Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?
To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.
Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.
“You free tomorrow?”
“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”
“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”
Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”
“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.
Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”
“Hold it, I still have a piece–”
“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”
“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.
With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.
“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.
“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”
Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,
“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”
.
.
There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.
The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.
Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.
Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.
Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.
While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.
“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.
“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”
“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”
You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.
“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.
“H… Hold the door!” she pants.
Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.
You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.
She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.
“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”
It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.
You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.
You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.
“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.
With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.
I thought I covered that…
You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.
You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.
You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.
Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”
She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”
You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?
You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.
The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.
“Heya, Katsu–”
“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.
You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.
He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”
“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.
“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.
“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.
“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”
Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”
Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.
“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.
After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”
“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.
“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.
Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”
“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”
“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.
“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.
As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”
You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.
The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.
You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.
“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.
You bite your lower lip. “Well…”
Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”
It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.
In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.
You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.
“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.
“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.
“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”
“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.
A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.
Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.
“You did well, princess.”
His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.
God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.
Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.
While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.
The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.
“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.
“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”
Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”
“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”
A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.
“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”
Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.
“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.
In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.
Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”
“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.
“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.
He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”
Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.
“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”
At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.
“Bend over.”
Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.
With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.
“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.
Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.
“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”
“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”
At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”
Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.
“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.
“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.
“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.
Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.
“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.
The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”
Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.
“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.
“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”
Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.
“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.
“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.
Oh, fuck it.
As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.
You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.
“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.
“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.
By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.
With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.
“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point
“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”
“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.
Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.
“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”
“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.
Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.
After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.
“Feel sticky…”
“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.
Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”
“Fine. Such a princess…”
“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.
The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”
Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.
“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”
You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”
“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”
“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.
“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.
And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.
“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.
“What’s so funny?!”
“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”
At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.
“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.
The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.
“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.
“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.
And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.
When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.
“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.
You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”
“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.
“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”
.
.
The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.
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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year
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Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader
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18+ only, minors DNI!
Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader
Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?
WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)
Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol
a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:
read part two here
⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩
*
Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family. 
But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.
Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy. 
You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things. 
That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.
You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?” 
Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice. 
Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.
When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.
You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner. 
The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.
As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.
The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar. 
You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.
Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.
You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.
So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.
“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.
It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ. 
Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.
You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots? 
Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.
“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.
But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.
Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you. 
So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you. 
And that’s how Jake finds you.
You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.
Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why. 
Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.
Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor. 
Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.
“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.
“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.
“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”
The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony. 
With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.
They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.
Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception. 
When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?
Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too. 
Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.
Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated. 
God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you. 
“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?
“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed. 
But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered. 
Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.
“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff. 
“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot. 
Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.
“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question. 
Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.
Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.
“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.
“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.
“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.
“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.
“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.
Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.
“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.
“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.
When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people. 
Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.
As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy. 
You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.
You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.
As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress. 
Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced. 
God, he wants to kiss you.  
You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention. 
“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.
“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.
“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.
“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.
“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.
“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.
Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.
“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.
“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”
At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you. 
“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.
“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look. 
“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them. 
“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride. 
“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.” 
Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.
Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.
Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.
Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.
“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.
You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom. 
Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.
“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.
You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne. 
He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.
When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.
Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him. 
The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.
When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.
“You forgot the glasses.” 
He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.
“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights. 
It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.
No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back. 
You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.
“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you. 
“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room. 
He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.
“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling. 
When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face. 
Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.
Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again. 
The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.
Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.
You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.
Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.
Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.
You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.
With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.
When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.
“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.
You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.
Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.
Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.
Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.
Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.
Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.
“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”
Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 
He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.
When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.
You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him. 
You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.
“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.
As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.
Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.
“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.
“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.
“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.
Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.
You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers. 
Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.
Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.
Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.
“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.
“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.
You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile. 
Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.
Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.
Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.
Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.
“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.
“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.
“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him. 
You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.
“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and  watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.
“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine. 
Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.
Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.
“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.
Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.
He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.
Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.
It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.
“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.
His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between. 
Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.
“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.
At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him. 
Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.
You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.
“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.
You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.
When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.
The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust. 
Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.
His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.
You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.
The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.
“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.
“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.
He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.
The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.
Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.
Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.
Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high. 
Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.
The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better. 
At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.
Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense. 
Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.
“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.
“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.
Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful��and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.
“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.
“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.
“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.
“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.
“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.
“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.
“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.
The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.
You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.
“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.” 
You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute. 
He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.
Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.
Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.
Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room. 
While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip. 
Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.
He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket. 
With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom. 
When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.
“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom. 
Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.
The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming. 
As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake. 
Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.
“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.
By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.
“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely. 
“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.
“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.
“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.
“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.
“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words. 
Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.
With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you. 
That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.
Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.
“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.
Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”
“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.
“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”
Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.
“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.
You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”
When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.
Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.
“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.
With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute. 
Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.
“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint. 
But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.
“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.
“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”
Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.
“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.
He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.
“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.
And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.
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Thank you for reading! x
Part two
Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87
also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:
@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3
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ariesangelxo · 4 months
Text
mornings - part two
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
cw: more angst, still no comfort (i promise it’s coming in the next part), heartbreak, one mention of panic attacks, prescription benzo use, recreational coke use, drinking, arguing, mention of a gun and a gunshot at the end, not proofread lol
an: thank u all SO SO much for all of the love on part one !!! i am blown away and in awe. there also will be a part three for sure <3
part three
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the past twenty-six days had not been kind to you. your mornings were spent rotting away in bed until your mom would force you to get up, her expression of concern always made you feel even worse. your days weren’t much better, you forced yourself to detach from your heart and numb your emotions. it was the only way you knew how to keep going. you put on a mask during the day with your parents, giving them occasional smiles and laughs that weren’t the kind that warmed their hearts. they knew you weren’t okay, but they also knew they couldn’t force you to talk about it or you’d shut down completely. your nights consisted of taking a benzodiazepine in order to fall asleep, you couldn’t sleep without them. you tried, it only led to intense panic attacks and hysterical sobs that made your mother’s heart break in front of you.
this morning had been a bit different. you were awakened when you felt a weight in your bed, and in the haze of waking up you initially thought it was rafe. you shot up the moment you remembered everything, eyes widening and heart racing, but you looked over to see sarah in your bed. "oh my god, sarah you scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, holding a hand over your chest.
she let out a giggle, "i'm sorry, your mom let me in. i miss you," her tone was gentle. you had become very close with sarah during your relationship with rafe. being over at the cameron's house so often led to a beautiful friendship forming between the two of you. she was like a sister to you, something you cherished deeply as you didn't grow up with a sister.
you felt a pang of guilt in your chest at her words. you knew she missed you, she'd messaged you every single day since your break up without fail, even if you didn't always text back. you had seen her a couple times, but when she asked about what happened, you told her you weren't ready to talk about it. sarah was incredibly understanding, knowing how much you loved her brother and not wanting to push you too far.
"i miss you too, sar. i'm sorry i've been such a shit friend lately." you responded to her. you gave her a small smile, curling up next to her as she sat against your headboard.
"it's okay, i know you're not doing great with everything going on right now," she trailed off with a sad smile, "but, you're going out with me tonight!" she became animated as she spoke.
you didn't have it in your heart to deny her, not when she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world. "you know i can't say no to you. where are we going?" you asked curiously.
"there's going to be a huge party at the boneyard, and you're coming with me. no ifs, ands, or buts." she giggled out, "i need to get you out of your room, you're rotting away in here, babe."
"god, you sound just like my mother," you teased back. "i'll go though, i miss you more than you know. i even miss the pogues a bit." you both laughed, referencing her newer relationship with john b.
you couldn't prevent your curiosity from getting the better of you, "how- how has he been?"
sarah bit her lip, debating internally how much to tell you. "he's been... not great. i don't see him much when i'm home, he's usually in his room with the door shut. he's been a lot more moody too, snapping at literally everyone in the house. it probably didn't help that i told him he's an idiot and he fucked up the best thing to ever happen to him."
you couldn't suppress the laugh that slipped through your lips or the slight satisfaction you felt knowing that you weren't the only one struggling. "i love you sar. thank you." you leaned over, giving her a hug.
"i love you too. now get your ass up and shower. we're getting you a new outfit for the party."
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you spent the next few hours strolling through the streets of figure eight with sarah. your arms held multiple shopping bags, filled with clothes she insisted you needed for tonight. you were incredibly grateful that she had forced you out of bed, you actually felt human for the first time since everything happened.
you found yourself in a small cafe, giggling as sarah told you a story from one of her drunken adventures with the pogues.
“you know… you should talk to jj tonight. i know he thinks you’re hot.” sarah gave you a mischievous smile as she wiggled her brows.
“funny,” you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “but it’s way too soon for me to get into anything with anybody right now.”
“i didn’t mean start dating him, i just think you would have fun together.”
“i just- i don’t know, sar. i’ve been such a wreck these past few weeks… can i tell you what happened?” you looked up from your fingers to meet her eyes, now widened with shock.
“yeah, of course you can. but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”
you were grateful for her support, going into your explanation of how the last couple months of your relationship, rafe’s behavior changed drastically. sarah hung on to your every word, needing to know exactly what led to the end of your relationship.
“and so i walked into the country club to surprise him. i spent the whole morning getting ready, did my makeup how he likes, even wore a new sundress that i know he would have loved. but i walked in and…” you looked up as your vision began to blur, “he was talking with some bitch i’ve never seen before bartending. she had short brunette hair, but he fucking smirked at her the way he only does- did for me. and- and then, she basically fucking held his hand while she fucked him with her eyes, and he let it happen!”
you spit the words out like they were poison on your tongue, not noticing your voice beginning to raise with frustration. sarah’s jaw was nearly on the floor.
“what the- what the fuck?” she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d seen anyone matching your description recently, but nothing came to her.
“god, shit. i’m so sorry, babe. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.” she attempted to console you as you dabbed your eyes with a napkin.
you shrugged your shoulders, “what’s done is done. i just want to forget about everything for a while.”
she nodded, “then let’s go get ready. we can pregame at yours and ride with john b and them.”
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after a few shots, a couple hours spent transforming yourself to not look like you spent the last three weeks trying to cope with your break up, and a lot of laughter, you and sarah were ready to go.
you wore a cropped loosely crocheted white sweater over your pink bikini and a white miniskirt that hugged your hips , the strings from your bottom peaking out from the top of it. you were finally feeling good about yourself again, and you’d be damned if you let anyone ruin it.
the ride to the boneyard only lifted your spirits more. it was impossible not to laugh around the pogues, especially when jj did whatever he could to hear your giggle.
you arrived just as the party was beginning to pick up. relief flooded your veins when you didn’t see rafe anywhere. you knew it was a possibility he’d be here, but it was going to be significantly easier to have a decent night without his presence lingering around.
you filled up a red solo cup at the keg, downing the cheap alcohol before refilling it.
“slow down there, or you might not make it too long.” jj approached you, giving you a flirty smile.
you gave him a laugh in response, “i’ll be fine, jay. i just want to be able to let loose tonight.”
“stick by me then, don’t want any of these pervs creeping on you.” the thinly veiled concern in his voice made you smile. you know he’s flirting, but it’s clear he wants to keep you safe knowing it’s your first night out in so long.
you spent the next hour surrounded by the pogues, and true to his word, jj looked out for you. he did so well that you failed to notice who had shown up to the party, the one and only rafe cameron.
rafe, on the other hand, saw you immediately upon arriving. it was impossible for him not to when your presence demanded his attention. he was not happy to see who you were hanging around with. his ongoing beef with the pogues was well known by everybody on the island. he didn’t come to party though, he had other business to attend to as barry gave him a side eye, “fuck are you doing, country club? you can fight for your girl later, we’ve got shit to do.”
your drink had somehow disappeared. your furrowed your brows as you looked down, giggling to yourself as you told your friends you were going to get another one. you were at the perfect level of drunk, not to the point of blacking out or vomiting, but to where you couldn’t quite walk in a straight line and everything was funny to you.
you stumbled up to the keg, starting to fill up your cup when you felt someone watching you. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you instantly knew who it was. it was as though there was a chip in you that alerted you to when he was nearby. you took a deep breath as you turned your head slightly, seeing rafe sat next to a man you didn’t know as he handed a small plastic bag filled with overpriced coke to a touron. rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you as he signaled him to leave.
you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the hand holding onto your cup now trembling and the lump in your throat building. rafe stood, starting to approach you as you froze. your brain was screaming at you to run but your body refused to move an inch.
“what the fuck do you want, cameron?” your words were spat out with venom. your tone clearly surprised you both as he looked shocked momentarily. you were typically one to stand your ground, but never ever was your attitude aimed towards him.
“what do you mean ‘what the fuck do i want’? you fucking up and left out of nowhere and haven’t spoken to me in almost a month.” his voice was filled with anger, his nose flaring as he clenched his jaw.
you let out a humorless laugh, “out of nowhere? you can’t be serious, rafe. you treated me like shit the last few months of our relationship.” you didn’t yet mention seeing his interaction with the bartender at the country club, not knowing if topper and kelce had told him about seeing you when you left that fateful day.
“what? be-because i couldn’t be with you twenty-four fucking seven? like i- i wasn’t out working my ass off to afford nice shit for you?”
“‘working your ass off’ will you stop fucking lying to me? i fucking saw you at the country club,” his facial expression showed confusion, bringing his brows together to try and understand what you were talking about, “you let that bitch touch you, you looked at her how you used to look at me. i spent hours getting ready, i showed up, wanting to surprise my boyfriend for lunch, and what do i see? my boyfriend letting some bartender hang off of him while he flirts with her?”
your voice had raised as you got more and more angry. you were now shouting at him as other partygoers failed to hide their stares and murmuring. nobody ever talked to the kook prince the way you currently were, unless they wanted their face bashed in.
rafe grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you down the beach and away from others. you stumbled behind him, knowing you weren’t physically or mentally strong enough to push him away.
when you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed his blown-out pupils. you felt your heart sink. “you’re using again.” you stated flatly.
he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. “don’t act like you fucking care.” he spat out at you.
“jesus fucking christ- rafe, when did you start again?”
“don’t worry about it. when did you come to the country club?” his tone was demanding, sparking further irritation in you.
“the day i left. i- i let a lot of shit slide for too long, because… because i wanted to be a good girlfriend and support you when i thought you were just stressed out from work. and, in return, i get to watch my boyfriend make me look like a fucking idiot.”
rafe was silent for a minute, his lips pursed as he clearly was trying to remember what he was doing before he came home to an angry ward and an empty room. then realization hit him, he knew exactly what you were talking about. he brought his palm up to his face, groaning.
when he was about to speak, he was cut off. “is cameron bothering you?” jj’s familiar voice called out. you looked past rafe’s large figure to see all of the pogues standing beside him, looking ready for a fight if it came to it.
rafe gave a humorless chuckle, “stay the fuck out of it, pogue.” he clearly wouldn’t go down without a fight either.
your heart stopped for a moment and your body filled with ice cold terror as jj pulled out a gun that was hidden behind his back in his waistband. it was clear you weren’t the only one not expecting it as the rest of them looked at jj with concern, john b telling him to put it away. “yeah? let’s fucking go, rafe. been itching for a fight for too long.”
everything became blurred. the mixture of shouting, seeing figures suddenly moving towards each other, and the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot, and then everything went black.
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certaimromance · 3 months
Text
࣪ ִֶָ☾. Love or seal?
Dean Winchester x Fem!reader
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Summary: An avenging spirit is killing married couples, so the Winchesters think it's a good idea to use you to pretend to be one and take down the ghost. But the act becomes all too real before you know it.
Words: 1,8k.
TW: mentions of murder, death, violence. so much teasing. a little of angst with happy ending. dean from the early seasons but soft and chaotic (a bit simp). sam being cupid and forgotten lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I've always been a Dean girl and I'm so excited about this. I love the concept of "Frenemies to Lovers" with its more playful and cutie version from the earlier seasons, I hope I described it well.
This is my second time writing here, i'm still new.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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You took another look in the mirror and walked a few laps around the dingy motel room, trying to swallow the act. It seemed ironic to wear such a fancy dress and high heels in a place like this, but it was all so you could solve the case and prevent more deaths. After all, it was your job to catch the ghosts and put them to rest.
It had been a long time since you'd been out on a date or worn anything other than your usual jeans and leather jacket. Buying yourself a cute dress and wedding rings with one of your fake cards had been entertaining, the closest thing to a normal life you'd had in years.
“Come in, I need help with the zipper on my dress.” You said after hearing a couple of knocks on your door.
You were still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for Sam to show up to help you so the two of you could leave soon for the restaurant where you both had reserved a table. The strange thing was that the cold hands you felt running down your back and zipping you up were not his, but those of his older brother.
“What are you doing here? Where is Sam?” You turned around to look at Dean once your dress was closed. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a suit and the ring.
“In the room.” He replied, moving closer to you so he could look at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie with difficulty, he was not used to wearing one at all and felt suffocated.
“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked him after looking him over from head to toe and inevitably biting your lower lip. He looked good, all dressed up and dapper, you could even smell the scent of cologne wafting off him.
“I'll be your husband for tonight.” Dean smiled at you.
You frowned when you heard that the younger Winchester would no longer be your fake husband, because that was not what you had all agreed upon. Sam had always been more husband material, and you trusted him enough to have some physical contact if necessary. On the other hand, you saw Dean as someone who was far from the prototypical perfect partner, and you could barely talk to him without arguing about your differences, never having touched him except for sparring practice or taking away the gun he kept stealing from you. You couldn't deny that both brothers were attractive, but they were almost equally far from meaning anything romantic to you.
“We flipped a coin and I got the job.” He added to the explanation, noticing the confusion on your face.
Finally you nodded, realizing that once again they had not been able to reach an agreement and had had to put luck in the middle for the choice of roles. You didn't mind going with Dean, you had already been on several hunts with him and trusted his skills, but having to impersonate his wife was weird.
“Can you...?” He tried to ask you, pointing at his tie and all the trouble it caused him.
You let out a small laugh at seeing him so confused over a simple tie and went over to him to take it off. You had to tie it all over again because of how badly he had done it before.
“This looks very wife.” He commented as he saw the delicacy with which you were trying to fix his mess.
“I hope the spirit feels the same and is looking forward to slaughtering us.” You replied, taking a step away from him as you finished.
You two said a quick goodbye to Sam and then hopped into the Impala, which took you to a shiny restaurant near the road where the ghost appeared.
“Don't embarrass me, please.” You said to him as soon as you both sat down at the table and placed your order.
“How could I, darling?” He smiled innocently at you and took your hand on the table, caressing the ring on your finger.
You didn't say anything, just smiled back and kept your thoughts to yourself. You couldn't believe he actually called you that, sounding almost like a husband, even though you knew it was because of the acting, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. The most you'd gotten from Dean Winchester in all the years you'd known him was a "good job" and a strange smile, followed by a lot of questions about your careless decisions. You alone were far enough away from marriage, let alone someone like him.
“You look very handsome tonight.” You told him as you saw he was drinking water, causing him to almost spit it out in surprise.
Usually you never complimented him, barely looked him in the eye, talked about anything other than hunting, or even laughed at his jokes. It seemed that his presence didn't matter much to you because your interests were more aligned with Sam's and you got along better with him. That bothered Dean a lot, he hated being so invisible in your eyes.
Now, however, you didn't take your eyes off him and even gave him compliments that left him speechless to continue the performance.
“At least the food is good.” You said absentmindedly as the waiter brought the plates.
“And the company?”
You looked into his eyes, trying to understand if he was playing with you or if he was really hurt by your lack of emotion. The strange thing was that you didn't know if it was one or the other, his greenish gaze was a mystery.
“The best company, of course.” You gave him a smile and picked up your glass of wine to make a small toast.
“How affectionate you are now.”
“Yes, I feel almost as if today is the last day of my life.” You said with irony.
Dinner went off without a hitch in a quiet and strangely pleasant atmosphere. You couldn't help but be surprised by Dean's friendliness, it was the first time you had a civilized conversation with him. The first time he held your hand and you noticed how green his eyes were.
Suddenly, everything he said, silly or not, made you smile. The only rational thing to do was to attribute it to the glass of wine he had decided to drink. In general, you didn't allow yourself to drink alcohol, let alone in the middle of a hunt. But now, for some reason, you thought it would help your nerves and relax you a bit.
“Where did you leave the car?” You asked once they left the site and the time to travel the road of death was approaching.
“In the corner over there...I hope.” He answered without really being sure. For him, it had all happened so fast when you two arrived.
“My feet hurt. Don't play with me now.” You said, hating the high heels you were wearing.
At that moment, the hunter stopped and motioned for you to sit on the bench by the exit. Unsure, you obeyed and frowned as he knelt down to gently remove your shoes.
“Happy now?” He asked he asked, holding your heels in his hands.
“I can't walk barefoot.” You claimed, putting on a fake sad face and lowering your gaze to his arms.
Dean shook his head instantly.
“No, don't even think that I'll carry you.” He warned confidently, folding his arms.
A few minutes later, he was silently leading you to the car, snorting at every opportunity to give in so easily to your wishes.
“This looks very husband.” You pointed out with a smile and a teasing tone.
“I would offer you to the spirit right now.” He replied, looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“How lovely you are, my dear.”
The two finally got into the car and headed for the exit. Dean had received a message from his brother telling him that he had found the name of the ghost woman and her grave with her husband, who was the cause of all his resentment against happily married couples, and to top it off, he was buried on top of her.
“Sam is going to burn the grave and everything will be fine.” He said trying to comfort you as he saw the concern on your face. “Maybe the woman doesn't want to kill anyone today.”
“You have too much faith in a murderous spirit.” You sighed and tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it stuck. “And you should take the ring off.”
“Are we getting divorced so soon?” He replied in a joking tone, with his eyes on the road.
You looked at him seriously, this was no time for jokes because everything was going wrong. If Sam didn't dig up those bones soon, they were probably going to kill you both and the plan was going to fail completely. It was supposed to be easy and you were terrified that it wasn't anymore.
“Come on, don't be like that. You were laughing so hard with me.” He smiled at you.
Before you could respond, a pale woman in a blood-stained wedding dress appeared in the back seat. You could barely say Dean's name when the ghost's hand came around your neck and began to choke you. After a few moments, you couldn't even breathe and everything became a blur.
You didn't want to die, at least not at that moment. Not without having lived a life as good as the night before everything went to hell. You still had too many things to do to go like that, let alone in front of him, you couldn't let that happen.
“Don't move.” The hunter said to you before drawing his gun and disputing you to the back seat.
The ghost disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared just ahead of the road. A braking maneuver as the woman was beginning to burn in front of the two of you almost made you jump out of your seat.
Sam had succeeded.
“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking at you with concern.
“Yeah.” You said, still trying to catch your breath and process everything that had happened.
“And my thanks for saving you and not letting death part us?”
At any other time, you would have simply made a sarcastic comment and emphasized that it was all thanks to her brother. However, the recent experience had changed something in you and made you kiss his cheek.
Before you could completely pull your face away from his, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you close. You felt his lips move over yours and responded without hesitation. A big part of you had been thinking about this moment all night and was more than happy it was happening. It was like the perfect ending to a fake marriage date, minus the killer ghost part, and it made you smile in the middle of it.
“You didn't flip any coin, did you?” You asked as you broke away from the kiss for a second.
“No, I didn't.” He admitted, leaving a kiss on your head and making you smile even more.
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vanilladove · 11 months
Text
❤︎ ₊ ⊹ get free (1/3)
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pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: v suggestive w/ plot (yasssss); read at your own discretion
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: unhealthy relationships, infidelity, slightly yandere(?) nikolai, dubious consent, nikolai himself is a warning lol, also sorry if the asylum! au is inaccurate
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: reader is an asylum attendant and is assigned to their newest admit nikolai gogol. ALSO this fic is heavily inspired by @/cherikolya's fic she's the one i'm running with- pls check it out and support her! also i'm splitting this up into 2 parts bc watching the aot anime has been breaking me and consuming all my thoughts, but i still want to post:( ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 2 & pt 3 & bonus (bad ending) ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 5.7k (oops...what can i say nikolai makes me delulu)
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"Nikolai Gogol. Age 26. Male. Charged with terrorism, first-degree murder, and treason among other things, but he got off with an insanity plea. Look over his file before he comes in later." The man behind the desk tossed the neat file carelessly onto the acrylic surface, exhaling boredly after giving his monotone rundown.
"I'm being assigned to him? But I already have other patients to take care of!" You inquired, fists forming at your sides as you already imagined the overtime and exhaustion you were going to rack up.
"Attendants don't grow on trees, do they? Don't assume I'll give you special treatment. Besides, I'm handing your other patients off to the new girls, so you'll be able to focus on Gogol. He's high priority." The man butted back.
Tch. You sighed and grabbed the file, mumbling a "fine" and turning to leave his office.
"Goodbye, dear." He spat it out like venom with a forced smile. You glanced back once more at the man: your boss--or rather husband--before heading out the door. You two were simply a marriage of convenience--a business transaction. In exchange for funding to build a new asylum on par with Mersault to rehabilitate criminals, your father had offered your hand in marriage to his business partner's son, who had become entranced by your beauty after seeing you once in your father's office. He wasn't too bad of a man at first, and you both related over your occupation together, but your marriage started to go sour after he realized you weren't just a pretty face or obedient wife, and it worsened after his narcissism and egocentricity started to show. He was too traditional and trapped you in his cage of rules and regulations. Even sharing the same bed and having dinner together couldn't reignite the nonexistent spark between you.
You walked back to your office and closed the door behind you before making yourself some herbal tea to calm your nerves. Laying down on the plush couch in the middle of your room, you looked through your new patient's file, trying to memorize all the details.
Nikolai Gogol, huh? What kind of person are you? You shivered reading the list of his crimes, which seemed endless and cruel.
An hour or so had passed before you heard a soft knock at your door. "Miss?" Another attendant had come to fetch you. "Your patient is waiting for you in the white ward." The white ward was where "high priority" or more dangerous patients were kept.
"I'll be out in a moment!" You called out, getting up from the couch and tidying up the space before fixing your hair and pulling down your uniform. It was a black flowy dress with puffy bell sleeves and a white rounded collar. The dress itself was a bit too short, being designed and chosen by your gross and perverted lovely husband. You walked out the comfort of your office and followed the attendant to the white ward.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
"Miss, this is your patient Nikolai Gogol". The attendant gestured to the tall man standing in the hallway outside of his room. He was strapped and held by two guards, with several others surrounding him holding special guns. He had a neutral smile on his face that turned upwards upon seeing you. You couldn't help but be momentarily mesmerized by the man in front of you. He wore a loose white button up and white linen pants--the standard male patient uniform--and his white hair was messily layered with a long, neat braid on his shoulder. His eyes were the most captivating to you, one emerald and full of life and the other a dull blue with a scar. Without the jester attire donned in his file pictures, he actually looked quite...handsome and prince-like?
You snapped yourself back to reality after remembering who you were dealing with and bowed slightly, just enough to stop your dress from riding up.
Observing the situation, you could sense the belligerence seething from everyone else. Not that you could blame them, the new patient was a dangerous anarchist. Your personal philosophy was always to treat the patient as humanely as possible in order to build trust and security, so you tried to not think about your new patient's file information. Just focus on diffusing the energy of the space and getting the jester to somewhat like you.
"Hello, Nikolai. I'm your attendant and will be taking care of you for the duration of your stay here," You looked back up and smiled gently at him, starkly contrasting the hostile glares from the other attendant and guards. "Let's get along, okay?"
Nikolai's eyes widened immediately and he tried to move closer to you. "Whaaaa! Nice to meet you, pretty miss! I can't believe such a beautiful girl is taking care of me!" The two guards forcibly stopped him from taking another step and the others pointed their guns at him.
Nikolai frowned and stopped squirming. "Hey! All I did was talk! Put those scary things away!" He giggled as the guards retracted their guns slowly and stuck his tongue out at the other attendant, who looked disgusted yet scared. He wasn't intimidated or scared at all. The guards then opened the door to Nikolai's room and placed him sitting down on his bed. Before you could follow to begin debriefing, the other attendant tugged on your arm lightly.
You turned back at looked at her. She had a fluffy blonde bob, light green eyes, and freckles. Lacey, one of the young new hires your husband mentioned earlier. "Um Miss, aren't we supposed to follow the script when interacting with patients? I thought smiling at them and speaking casually promoted unwanted feelings and was unprofessional?" You cringed, loathing that she sounded just like your husband when he was lecturing.
You shot her a fake sugary smile, "Oh, yes, I usually just take a softer approach with more unstable patients. Don't want them to stab you in the back immediately, do you?" You tried to answer lightheartedly, but your efforts clearly failed by the way Lacey had a horrified look on her face from your little joke, like it was the worst answer you could've said. You awkwardly coughed and put your hand on her shoulder.
"Right, thanks for reminding me, Lacey. It's great that you remembered the boss's words." Rolling your eyes once your back was turned to her, you stepped into Nikolai's room. You already dreaded Lacey telling your husband about you deviating from protocol and the long talk he would have with you at home.
"Four of us will be staying here to observe the debrief, Miss. This man is dangerous." You nodded as each of the four the guards stood in a corner of the room and the rest filed out of the room. You pulled up a stool and sat down, giving your new patient a run down of his daily schedule and how the asylum operated. The whole time, his eyes watched you excitedly like a puppy and he giggled and nodded frequently in between your sentences. It was strange and unsettling, but you were slightly relieved you didn't have to deal with an aggressive patient.
Scooting closer to Nikolai, you pulled out a small water bottle and a case of different pills. "These are your daily meds, Nikolai. I'll come to give these to you every morning at six before breakfast. I'll monitor your progress and adjust your dosage as time goes on." He nodded as you stood up and placed the water bottle on the stool, putting on a white latex glove and pouring the pills out into your hand. "I'm going to be administering them to you just for today. Open your mouth and don't close it until I'm done, okay?"
"Okay, missy! I'll be a good boy and try not to bite your pretty fingers off!" Nikolai perked up and giggled like a child getting candy. You mentally cringed and prepared yourself for the worst as you stepped towards him. What could you expect? This man was dangerous and had no reason to listen to you. The guards tensed up as you moved closer and pointed their guns at the jester's face. You swallowed as Nikolai opened his mouth, obnoxiously saying "ahhhhhhhh" and bouncing in his spot lightly.
Heartbeat increasing, you placed your free hand under Nikolai's jaw, thumb supporting his chin and lifted his face up slightly to you as you dropped the pills into his mouth. Mind racing and anxiousness clouding your vision, you missed the way he gaze softened. He closed his mouth and leaned into your touch more, nuzzling your delicate fingers. You swiftly pulled away, turning your head back to grab the water bottle behind you, attempting to hide the light rose that dusted your cheeks, unsure of whether it was from fear or embarrassment. Nikolai's eyes were still intently on you, so you secretly hoped he had missed that.
As you opened up the water bottle and stepped back towards Nikolai again, he shook his head. "I already swallowed them, I don't need any water, miss attendant." He opened his mouth again to show you proof before you sighed out an "okay" and tightened the cap back on. You grabbed the empty pill case before gesturing to the guards to put their guns down. They complied and two came over to slowly undo the restraints on his upper body, making sure to hold him back immediately after.
"Well, Nikolai, that's all for today. Thank you, and I--"
"Whoa, missy, you have a ring! Too bad you're already married!" Nikolai interrupted, his head poking up but quickly being pushed down by one of the guards. You cursed yourself silently as you froze in place. Since you had to move around a lot and constantly clean, you wore your wedding ring on a simple gold chain as a necklace instead. It was usually tucked under your uniform, but it must have slipped out when you were laying on your couch earlier. You cleared your throat awkwardly, tucking your necklace back into your uniform and trying to get rid of the instinctive frown on your face that appeared anytime your partner was mentioned.
"Yes, I'm married. Anyways--"
“But you held my face so lovingly just now. Won't your husband get mad? You're supposed to do that to him, not your new captive, right?"
You tightened your fists at that.
"That man…does he treat you well, pryntsesa?" Even though his head was held down, his dark gaze still cut into you, now not as innocent as it was before. You were sure the cheeky man was smirking too, taunting you with an otherwise harmless question.
You let out a fake laugh and an even faker wide smile in response, just eager to leave and go home now. Whatever charm you had your patient initially under had clearly faded away. "I'll see you tomorrow at six, Mr. Gogol." Nikolai's smirk turned down after hearing the name change, but quickly turned back up again followed by loud hysterical laughs--unbeknownst to you, who had already left his room.
"So the little ptashka wants to play games, does she?"
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
"Thanks for dinner, dear." Your husband said, wiping his mouth with a neatly folded handkerchief.
Shocking. Is he being...nice?
"Of course, I've already packed your lunch for tomorrow, too." You replied, occupied washing dishes and organizing the kitchen again.
"So, how was your first encounter with Gogol?" He inquired, walking over to you to put his dishes into the sink and lean against the counter beside you. You stopped for a moment, surprised he was making conversation with you today, as he usually retreated back to your shared bedroom or went to the living room to watch the news.
You were about to start until you noticed his brows furrowed and his arms crossed. You took your rubber gloves off and placed them next to you.
Oh boy, he's about to lecture me, isn't he?
"What are you really trying to say?"
He exhaled. "Well, Lacey--"
That snitch. You couldn't believe her.
"Ahhh, Lacey. The sweet young new girl you hired as extra help. What about her?" Your spouse's eyes narrowed.
"Respect your coworkers, dear. Lacey told me about your unprofessional interaction with Gogol. Smiling at a murderer and treating patients as friends doesn't exactly align with the asylum's values, now does it?" He said sternly.
"I was just trying to immobilize him. You can't exactly make a patient trust you when everyone's just shooting daggers at them, y'know?" He didn't look convinced. "Besides, this has always been my approach since I started in this field, and it's never failed me. You more than anyone should know I have the most successful recoveries among all the staff."
"Fine. Just make sure your unorthodox tendencies don't rub off on the other staff." He looked down at your neck. "And don't tuck your necklace under your uniform anymore. Don't want all the delinquents getting the wrong idea. You're off the market now" He lifted the chain of your necklace and traced the outline of the ring before letting go and walking to grab his coat and a pack of cigarettes.
"Going outside for a smoke break. You should get to bed and get some sleep for the long day tomorrow" He replied before walking out the door, your eyes following him.
You didn't miss the way he swiftly grabbed the keys and fixed his hair before leaving.
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"Good morning, dove!" Nikolai chirped upon you entering his room.
"Good morning, Nikolai. Did you sleep well?" You asked softly, taking his medication out and handing it to him, along with some Ukrainian candy.
"Mmhmm, yes I did! I had a sweet dream, too, doll, but I can't tell you what it was about!" He said excitedly. Used to his antics, you only laughed in response and watched as he took his pills--still without water for whatever reason and unwrapped the minky binky candy, popping it into his mouth.
Five weeks. That was how long it'd been since Nikolai was admitted to the asylum.
Despite your initial worries of dealing with a monster, you and Nikolai had gotten along quite well. He seemed to only listen to you, though, much to the dismay of the other attendants. It was beneficial for you though, since it meant you didn't have to work overtime seeing to other patients.
Nikolai had developed a habit of calling you by anything but your name, bestowing several different pet names on you--a new upgrade from "miss" and "missy".
He also became increasingly touchy with you as well: constantly holding your hand--intertwining his fingers with yours, braiding your hair, and hugging you when he felt "cold". Perhaps you were desensitized to it or just touch starved, but you rarely complained about it. You would rather keep him happy and easy to deal with, anyways.
"Look, pretty girl, I finished all my meds!" Nikolai exclaimed as he opened his mouth to show you proof that he swallowed them all.
You gave him a friendly smile. "You aren't having any bad side effects from your meds, are you?" You found it a bit odd that Nikolai's dosage never changed, since no one could pinpoint his exact condition. It made your job easy, though, so you tried not to think much about it.
"No ma'am. I had some trouble sleeping at first, but it's all gone now!" He stood up from his bed and watched as you straightened it up--simultaneously checking for anything suspicious. There never was anything somehow.
His hands loosely wrapped around your waist as he pressed himself against your bent back and rested his chin on your shoulder, causing you to push your hands into the sheets and wrinkle the thin blanket. You let out a surprised squeal when you felt his warm breath on your ear.
"Love, can we eat breakfast in the courtyard today?" He whispered softly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself blushing as you turned around and pushed him away, his hands still remaining on your waist.
"Y-Yes, N-Nikolai, we can go to the courtyard today." You said, finally stepping away to be free of his touch just for him to hold your hand. He flashed a happy smile at you while skipping out the door, tugging you along with him.
"Yayyyy! Me and ptashka are going on a date~"
"...It's not a date, silly." You replied back, blush still faintly across your cheeks.
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You inhaled the fresh courtyard air, still holding hands with Nikolai as you walked on the cobblestone path. His breakfast to-go box and your lunchbox were on the nearby bench; you both already ate, but Nikolai basically ate most of your food, claiming the dining hall food was "stale and dry" compared to the pillowy cream puffs you'd brought.
"Wahhhh! Look at the fishies, dove!" Nikolai exclaimed, waving his finger at the koi fish swimming in the fountain. They eagerly swam towards him, probably thinking he was going to feed them. He giggled, eyes focusing in on two of the fish.
"Don't those two look like us, love?" You were snapped out of your previous trance and looked down to see a black koi fish and a larger white koi fish together cuddling into each other.
"Oh, I guess they do. Because of our uniforms, right?" You looked back up to Nikolai to see him frowning and still staring at the fish.
"No, dove, because they're in love..." He said lowly, to the point where you almost couldn't hear him. His gaze softened as he looked back down at you and cupped your face gently.
In love? Us?
Eyes widened, you felt confused as you looked away, not sure how to respond or think. The sudden action caused Nikolai's hands to drop away from your face. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see his disappointed face as you stammered, "We're not in lo--"
Your eyes flew open again as you felt something hard in your hand.
A bouquet of lavender roses was in your hand, with Nikolai giving you a big grin with his hands behind his back. "Pretty flowers for my pretty girl." You blushed, forgetting about what had just happened. You had always loved roses and their romantic charm.
When was the last time your husband brought you flowers?
"Lavender roses symbolize delight and love at first sight. They remind me of you." Your eyes widened again as you looked up, Nikolai turning serious and gazing at you affectionately, like you were really lovers.
You found yourself getting lost in his heterochromatic eyes. Somehow, you felt peaceful like this. Even though he was a dangerous criminal. Even though your heart was already sworn to another man.
"Thank you, Nikolai. They're beautiful." You said smiling at him, this time being genuine and not passive. You were falling into a serene state, only able to focus on him. His action had somehow touched your conflicted heart and put you in a good mood.
He laughed happily in response, pleased by your reaction. "You look lovely when you smile like that, sweetheart." He pulled your other hand back to the bench so you could sit.
"Also, you should give me a nickname, too. I have so many, but you only call me Nikolai~" He pouted, scooting next to you on the bench.
"Hmmmm...What should I call you then? Niko? 'Lai? Nikolas...?" You pondered, both of you slightly cringing at all of the options, each one sounding worse than the previous one.
"I know!" Nikolai exclaimed, grabbing your hands--still holding the flower bouquet--and clasping them together, "Kolya. Call me Kolya. That's what my close friends and family would call me!"
Family? You mean the ones you murdered? You tried to shake the thought.
"Kol--Ahh!" You cried out as you felt a deep prick on your left ring finger. You pulled your hand away from Nikolai's and dropped the bouquet, watching the blood drip down your finger and down to your thigh.
Nikolai's eyes filled with concern, "Love! You're hurt!" He rushedly rummaged through his breakfast box and his pockets, trying to find a napkin to stop the bleeding. You tried to calm him down, telling him you were fine, but he wouldn't listen.
Suddenly, he seized your left hand and brought it to his mouth, closing his lips around your ring finger. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt him running his tongue over your finger, getting every last drop of blood and kissing the spot slowly when he finished.
Heat rushed into your cheeks as the air felt thick, no longer serene and peaceful. Nikolai's eyes darkened, and an unreadable expression fell on his face.
"There's still some there, dove." He gazed down at the blood that had dripped onto your thigh. Your stomach churned at the thought of what he would do next as he pushed you down onto the bench and brought his lips to your inner thigh, leaving soft kitten licks all over the spot and lightly groaning.
"Niko--Kolya, s-stop--" You tried suppressing the moan threatening to spill out from the contact on your sensitive skin. You tried to push him away softly, but he wouldn't stop, now pressing light kisses that travelled up your thigh to your sweet spot. He was getting close. Too close.
You pushed his head away, not trying to be soft anymore, and sat up again, moving to the far side of the bench. You pulled down your dress again to cover your now reddened thigh.
"W-We can't do this. It's wrong. You're my patient, and I'm your attendant. And..." You hesitated, regaining your composure, "...And I'm married." You said, biting your tongue. The gold necklace suddenly felt heavy around your neck, like it was pulling you down.
Nikolai laughed bitterly, "You don't love him though, myla. He's kept you trapped in a cage. Is that what you want, dove? Do you want to be trapped in his cage?"
"I--"
"Miss! Mr. Gogol! There you two are! We've been looking everywhere for you both. There's a group wellness activity starting for all the patients, and they're waiting on you." You turned around to hear a familiar high-pitched voice.
Lacey. The snitch new girl.
You put on a fake smile. "My apologies, I completely lost track of time. Lacey, you can escort Nikolai to the group's meeting spot. I'll be retiring to my office for the rest of the day." She nodded as you grabbed the bouquet and your lunchbox and took one last look at Nikolai before standing up from the bench and turning away, "I'll see you tomorrow, Nikolai." You didn't wait for a response back.
It felt too awkward. Everything felt confusing; you knew your place but you also wanted to be free. You liked Nikolai but you didn't know if those feelings could be considered love. You surely didn't love your husband...
All you could do was hold onto the roses and gaze up at a dove flying across the sky. For a moment, you wished to be like that dove. To be elegant, at peace, and loved.
You wished to be free.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to scan your access card and enter Nikolai's room. Today was a special day, after all.
"Good morn--"
"Love! You're finally here! I was waiting for you~" Nikolai exclaimed as he lunged towards you, burying his face into your neck. He wasn't wrong; The extra time you spent collecting your thoughts and debating going in or not made you two minutes late.
You lightly pushed Nikolai away--not before he caught your hands and intertwined them with his again--and tried to put a neutral smile on your face. "Nikolai, I have good news for you."
His face lit up as he clasped your hands and brought them towards his chest, "What is it, dove? Are you divorcing your husband and leaving him for me?" He shook your hands excitedly as you eyed him disappointingly. He really wasn't going to drop this lovesick act, was he?
You shook your head and cleared your throat, "No, as a reward for good behavior, you can choose a special place to visit and an item to keep in your room. Your options are the courtyard, the gy--"
"The library. I want a book to read." Nikolai stated, suddenly turning serious, taking you slightly aback; you didn't take him as the type to be able to sit still and read for a long time.
"Alright, the library it is then. Take your meds first, and then we can go, 'kay?" He nodded excitedly as you turned away from him to make his bed and do the usual check. Nothing suspicious, as usual.
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The guard greeted you both as you approached the grand library doors. It was an old wooden room with tall glass windows that contrasted the relatively short bookshelves. It wasn't exactly a popular destination for patients, so the books were mostly dated and collecting dust. The natural light inside made it one of your favorite break spots during your trainee days, so it was a bit nostalgic for you.
"There are security cameras around the library, but radio in if anything happens." The guard explained sternly, looking over at Nikolai and then you, "Do you need assistance with your patient, or will you two be fine alone?"
You shifted your gaze over to Nikolai, who had a slightly mischievous smile on his face but maintained a serious expression. "We'll be fine alone. He'll behave." The guard nodded at you before opening the door and letting you two in. The door shut firmly and you tried to grab Nikolai's hand, but he dashed away from you towards the large stained glass window before turning to face you.
"It's so big in here, ptashka. I haven't been in a library in sooooooo long. I actually love to read, y'know?" He said, smiling and motioning for you to join him. The colorful stained glass reflected on his face, casting multicolored kaleidoscopes on his face.
You joined him, admiring his beauty momentarily before leaning against the window and crossing your arms. "I didn't know that, no. To be honest, I didn't think you were much of a reader.." You said lightly with a giggle.
Nikolai grinned back, "Heh. There's a lot you don't know about me, dove." He looked away, lowering his voice a bit, "But that's fine. You'll have plenty of time to learn everything later~" You looked at him confusedly, not quite catching what he said, but you remembered the reason you came and grabbed his hand again.
"Anyways, was there a particular book you were looking for? I know this place pretty well." He laughed in response.
"Ah, is that so? Well, I'm looking for The Overcoat. It's my favorite book." Nikolai said proudly, like he was trying to impress you with his literature selection.
"The books are sorted by last name. Do you know the author?" You asked, leading him towards the bookshelves. Nikolai just squeezed your hand and started skipping forward at a fast pace, practically dragging you behind him as he started giggling hysterically.
"Nope! Not a clue, hehe~" You paused and frowned at him. Who didn't even know the author of their "favorite" book? "The genre's fiction, though, if it helps~" Nikolai said giddily, turning towards you and swinging your arms from side to side. You sighed and slowly headed over to the fiction section. There were about 1,000 books to go through, so you weren't exactly too excited. Not that it bummed you out too much, though, since your husband had asked you to help the new girls clean if you finished early with patient duties. You supposed you'd rather spend your time with Nikolai finding his book.
You both agreed to search the shelves simultaneously, Nikolai looking on the higher shelves and you on the shorter ones. The space between shelves was quite narrow, making his chest rub against your back several times. He wasn't shy either, grabbing your hips to maneuver past you, causing you to jolt when he pressed himself behind you.
Starting to lose count of how many books and shelves you'd checked, you were falling into a tired daze until Nikolai's sudden shout woke you up. "I found it, dove! I'm the winner! Me, me, me!" You looked over to Nikolai, who now had his book in his hands, and shot him a relieved smile.
He hurriedly headed towards you as you gave him some congratulatory praise. "Guess our work's done here, then. Let's get some lunch and call it a da--"
He hugged you suddenly, making you yelp as he giggled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against him. He leaned in by your ear, squeezing you tighter, inhaling your scent, "Say, dove, do you still have the roses I gave you from the courtyard?" You perked up toward him as he smiled, awaiting your response.
You did. You'd placed them in a small glass vase--trimming the thorns off--and put it on your dresser. Somehow, the sickly sweet smell was stronger in your room than it was in the courtyard. "Yeah," you smiled, "They're in a vase by my dresser. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of them because of how beautiful they were." Nikolai snickered at that, delighted that you'd cherished his little gift.
He slowly smirked, "Your husband doesn't give you flowers, does he?" You tensed up a bit under his arms but relaxed again, frowning and looking down.
"No, he doesn't. I think the last time was during our honeymoon." Nikolai cuddled into your neck after that, rubbing your sides like he was trying to comfort you.
"What a shame, love. You should leave him for me. He doesn't deserve you." Nikolai said, his teeth barely grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Was the space always this narrow?
"I can't. It doesn't work like tha--"
"Why not, though? Leave him for me. I'm actually perfectly sane, y'know? I know how to make you happy, how to free you from his cage..." He paused, "How to touch you..." His hands on your waist trailed down, pushing your skirt up higher.
"H-hey!" You stammered, stopping his hands from going further with your own, "We can't do this. There are cameras here." You anxiously looked around, trying to find them, but Nikolai's hand grabbed your face and pulled it back down to him.
"Shhhhhh. Stop worrying, myla. This is a blind spot. It's covered by the light, see?" He tilted your face up slowly again toward the camera, which was in fact covered by a big, dusty lantern. How convenient.
He pushed your skirt up again and grinded himself on you, and you swore you could feel his bulge pressing up against you. "You've been driving me crazy, dove, since yesterday I've only been able to think about you," he grunted, slipping his hands into your loosened dress and under your lacy bra to palm and squeeze your breasts. "The sounds you made...I wanna hear them again."
Your head was screaming at you to run away and get the guard, but you couldn't ignore the wet spots on your matching lace panties from your arousal. To be honest, you didn't remember the last time you'd been this intimate with anyone, and your body was clearly craving touch. Your breath hitched as Nikolai kissed below your ear, working his way down to the crook of your neck. You were starting to feel lightheaded.
Becoming more desperate for a reaction, Nikolai suddenly pinched your sensitive nipples and bit down on your neck, causing you to yelp in pleasure. "A-ahh K-Kolya--" The sudden impact caused you to push back against his clothed member and grip onto the sturdy shelf in front of you for support. You could feel him grinning in satisfaction, letting out a low groan.
"Mmm there's the pretty noise I wanted to hear~" Nikolai replaced his lips with his tongue, trailing slowly up and down your neck as you kept bucking against him, needing more friction. "Dove," he heaved as you mewled upon feeling his tip brush against your clit through eachother's clothes. He couldn't handle seeing you start to lose yourself. "F-fuck, kiss me".
Nikolai grabbed your hips suddenly and turned you around, so your back was against the wooden shelf. You looked up at his face; he was panting heavily, eyes filled with lust, and a few strands loose from his usual kept braid. The sight of him made your cheeks flush and your panties even wetter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, bringing one hand to his lips and tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. You gazed intently at his lips. Just one kiss will be fine, right?
Both of your noses were practically rubbing against each other as Nikolai started to dip down. "Kolya, I--"
BAM!
You instinctively pulled away as you recognized the sound of the old library door being kicked down. As the stomping of the guards' boots grew closer, you pushed Nikolai off your body and fixed your dress. Nikolai shot you a surprised glance as the guards knocked down the heavy bookshelves to open up the space around the two of you, eliminating the narrow confines. You couldn't process what was happening as five guards circled around Nikolai, drawing their guns and pointing them at him as he put his hands up. Another guard was slowly approaching you, lifting the walkie talkie up to his mouth.
"06, copy. Patient Gogol has been surrounded and apprehended successfully. We're on our way to the interrogation room," He glanced over to you, still sitting down in shock, "His attendant's here, too. We'll bring her to you, Boss."
Boss? Your husband? Shit, had you been caught?
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice Nikolai being handcuffed and pushed out the door--or the way he looked back at you--until the guard put his hand on your shoulder and called out your name. "Miss, we need to get going. We'll explain everything once we're with the boss again." He helped you up as you trailed slowly behind him with a churning stomach and The Overcoat clutched tightly in your arms.
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˚₊‧꒰ა part 2 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
˚₊‧꒰ა part 3 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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badgerbl00d · 8 months
Text
one piece boys rescuing you pt. 2
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☆ characters: sanji, kidd
☆ up next: waking up with the one piece boys
☆ summary: you end up in an awful situation where your life is put in serious danger. will they be able to save you in time?
☆ content: physical violence, slight SA implications, gory imagery (blood, wounds, injuries, etc.), mutual pining, angsty, happy ending, mdni
☆ a/n: i am the proud leader of the scottish!kidd agenda and like to imagine him using scottish slang and having a thick accent so this required some extensive research into scottish swear words lol. chebs (tits) is my favorite. enjoy!
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part 1
Sanji:
Zoro nodded, wordlessly, resting against the doorframe. 
“Careful you don’t catch her in the crossfire.” 
Sanji said nothing. He opened the door and walked in, closing it behind him. 
For the first time in his life Zoro’s presence brought him a degree of comfort. He knew he could handle whatever awaited him by himself, but he would be a fool to deny that the swordsman was further guaranteeing your safe return home. 
He descended a small set of stairs into a dark, damp basement. The walls were lined with a sickly yellow mold and the smell of rot had sunken into the cracks of concrete, filling the room with the thick, metallic smell of drying blood. 
His stomach churned knowing that you were somewhere here.
A door lay slightly ajar at the end of the hallway, pale yellow light pouring out from it. 
He approached the door, pushing it open with his free hand. 
Merde. 
He was greeting with a sight that made his head spin in a way it never had before. He steeled himself, biting back the urge to vomit at the sight of what they had done to you. 
Five or six men, whose faces he didn’t care to look at, stood around the room surrounding you. 
The outer corners of the dirty cloth that had been wound around your mouth as a gag were soaked through with blood. Sanji felt heat climbing up his throat and settling into the space behind his eyes translating itself from mere anger to blind fury. 
Your hands were bound too tightly behind your back leaving your elbows bending at unnatural angles and your shoulders jutted forward as though they were being torn out from your skin. 
He began to undo his tie, watching from the corner of his eye as one of the men- the apparent leader- began loading his gun. His breath was shaky and uneven, the inhales and exhales never dealing with an equal amount of air. 
He never took his eyes from you as you doubled over and took small gasps of air. In the midst of his disbelief he made a mental note of each injury you seemed to have. Broken wrists, dislocated shoulders, broken ribs, cuts and bruises covering most of you- the most upsetting of which were the purpling fingerprints around your neck.
He would return every injury done to you tenfold. As he took another inhale from his cigarette he realized that you were losing blood from another wound to your side.  
The few-days-old injury to his left eye, bloodied and mushed, the broken finger on the hand wrapped around his gun, the dried trickle of blood pouring out of his left ear. 
Atta girl. He knew you wouldn’t have gone down with a fight. Sanji took a moment to glance at the others in the room, all bearing similar injuries, and couldn’t help the smirk that settled onto his face. 
One of them said something, perhaps a snarky remark meant to question his confidence, or an insult meant to diminish it. He wasn’t sure. Nothing other than you was registering in his blurring mind.
It was the sound of a faint drip, drip, drip that sealed their fate. 
As Sanji turned to see your tears hitting the floor his vision blacked. 
He felt the unfamiliar feeling of hot blood covering his hands- the very ones he’d sworn to never use in battle. 
The feeling of flesh tearing beneath his fingernails, his fingers grabbing whatever mass they could get their hands on and tearing. 
You turned your head toward the floor, trying to block out the sounds of gore and violence that echoing within the four damp walls that had held you prisoner for the past two days- not because it scared you, no. But because you did not want to face the pure satisfaction that the scene unfolding before you brought. It was too much to watch someone else carry out the revenge that was rightfully yours. 
You laid your forehead against the cold floor, sweat dripping from your forehead. God, you were exhausted. You let your body hand limp, allowing yourself to rest as best you could now that Sanji was here. 
You weren’t positive- the old digital clock that was on the desk in the corner seemed to not work properly- but by the time Sanji finally stopped, bending down to wipe the blood off of his hands onto the shirt of one of the men, you guessed that thirty six-ish minutes had passed. 
You held still as Sanji undid the restraints against your hands, letting yourself fully fall onto the floor. 
You sighed, savoring how good it felt to feel the cold, wet cement pressing against your shaking body. The floor, which for days you had been dangled over, teased with, now welcoming you onto it. 
A warm, sticky hand under your chin broke the pleasure. Sanji tilted your chin slightly upward to look at him. 
“Mon coeur,” he said, voice shaking.
“Sanj’,” you responded, closing your eyes and resting your head into his palm. 
“Can you sit up? I’ll carry you out.” 
“I can stand,” you said, more aggressively than intended. But you didn’t need to be treated like you were fragile. The fact that you were even alive was a testament to that. 
Sanji drew back, offering you only a silent hand in case you needed any assistance getting to your feet.
You struggled, taking deep breaths as you shakily made your way onto aching feet, feeling like a thousand nails were being screwed into your skin. 
Sanji tucked a hand under your armpit, resting it gently against your hips- your ribs were too cracked to risk applying any pressure to your sides. 
You winced, eyes shutting as you let the ebbing pain pass through you, placing one foot in front of the next. 
You made it to the door before you spoke.
“Let me have a smoke, will you?” 
You reached for the cigarette between his lips before he could answer and took a deep inhale, ignoring the hot white pain that seared through your chest as you did. 
One of your captors, the one who tied you up, was lying by the door. Eyes open and glazed over, mouth swelling like a dead fish left out in the hot sun. 
You bent down, enduring the pain sent by your body, a desperate attempt to make you stop moving. 
You pushed the lit cigarette into your captor’s open mouth, watching the ash burn his tongue.
You stood back up, leaning against Sanji. 
“Carry me?” 
He nodded, picking you up ever so gently, his hands providing you with a sense of security that you had spent the last several days losing any hope for. 
“One last thing, Sanj’,” you said. 
You closed your eyes, cementing this place into your brain. The stench of blood, now fresh and coppery. The humid air that stuck to your skin. 
Whispering, more to yourself than anyone, you uttered a final word.
“Rot in hell.”
Sanji carried you up the stairs and out the door. 
It was only when you saw the first hint of sunlight that you allowed yourself to fully indulge in the comfort of his presence. He was here, you were safe, he had you. 
Zoro was waiting for you with Chopper when you got outside. The sun felt both heavenly and hellish. It’s warmth proof that you were still alive- that blood flowed perhaps too freely through your bones. And it’s brightness, which so highly contrasted the mildewy lamplight of the room you were stuck in, a confirmation of what you’d gone through. But the harsh rays were suddenly replaced by cool shadow and you opened your eyes as Chopper did what immediate work was available for him to do. Sanji stood over you, the sunlight pouring over him from behind his head, a worried look on his face. 
You closed your eyes again, the tiredness of your body finally catching up with you. 
Zoro, who up until this point had said nothing, placed a hand on Sanji’s back. A gentle touch that offered a surprising sense of grounding. 
“Your hands,” he observed. Sanji looked down at them, caked in dried blood and small, stringy pieces of… skin, maybe? Flesh? He tried to recall but everything was a blur. 
Sanji shrugged, “Didn’t notice.” 
He looked at Zoro who gave him a curt nod and they both turned their attention back to you. 
A memory played out before you. 
I must be knocked out, you thought. It was crystal clear, so unlike a dream that you momentarily felt you might actually be reliving it. 
The white light of the fridge in the kitchen cast you in a glow as you rummaged through its contents. It was rare to have any leftovers with this crew. There was some fruit- none of which you liked. Milk, eggs, carrots, pork, nothing. Ingredients upon ingredients and you knew better than to start trying to cook. 
“Hungry?” 
You turned, startled to see Sanji lighting a cigarette in the doorway. 
“Yeah.. Not many options though.” 
Sanji came to stand beside you, beginning to do his own rummaging. He began grabbing several things, a head of cabbage, carrots, pork, butter, heavy cream… 
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start cooking. It’s nearly three in the morning!” 
Sanji smiled at you, taking out the set of kitchen knives you’d gifted him just two months prior for Christmas (a gift that left his nose bleeding for nearly half an hour). 
“Ah. I couldn’t sleep. And besides, it is my job to feed you if you’re hungry.” 
You smiled and took a seat at the counter, watching him cook. Normally you might offer to help but you were far too hungry to allow your lack of expertise to ruin your own meal. 
He moved with such mesmerizing fluidity, the art was clearly a second nature to him and to watch it was captivating. The cutting of vegetables, the smell of cooking meat, the view of his forearms flexed as his hand gripped the handle of the knife, the tease of his happy trail when he lifted his arms to reach for something and his slightly small pajama shirt lifted. 
Sanji was enchanting- but so were you. 
Your head tilted to the side as you rested it on your hand, a small smile set on your lips. Your shirt was the exact opposite of his- too big on you- and was hanging off of your shoulder. Sanji did his best to not stare at your collarbone, and the line it painted that led up your pretty neck. 
“What’re you making anyway?” 
“Garbure,” he said, simmering a pot on the stove, “It’s a french soup. Sort of a cleaning-out-the-fridge thing. But it’s amazing when made well.”
You hummed, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“Honestly? I heard you in the kitchen and figured I’d make you something to eat.” 
“You’re an angel.” 
He looked up at you and the two of you smiled. A light jolt of electricity ran down your back. 
God, was he always this handsome?
“I think so?” 
“What?” 
“You… asked if I’m always this handsome- That was for me right?” 
“Oh- Fuck, I-I hadn’t meant to say it out loud!” Your cheeks darkened and you let out an embarrassed giggle.
“I’d ask if you’re always so beautiful but I know the answer is yes.” He ladled the soup intj a bowl and set it in front of you, serving one for himself as well. 
You leaned your head against his shoulder as you ate. 
“Mmmf- ‘S good!”
Your hand snaked through the opening between his bicep and chest to rest on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. 
“Thanks Sanj’.”
He smiled, and leaned his head against yours.
“You know, you’re the only one who calls me that. Makes me feel special.”
“You are. Who else can make ‘garbage’ this good?”
You added a french accent. 
“Garbure!” he corrected, laughing. 
“Right, right. That.” 
Maybe it was the soup or the feeling of Sanji’s hair against your forehead- both a warm and physical proof of how much you were cared for, but you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so full. 
The rest of the memory is blurry. 
You can recall the weight of sleep seeping into your body, more and more of your weight being shifted on to Sanji. 
The feeling of his hands under you, carrying you to bed. Or was that now- as he carried you into the Sunny’s infirmary? The last thing you remember- if this was even a memory anymore- is the feeling of a kiss being pressed upon your cheek. 
You woke up in one of Sunny's medical rooms with very little pain.
“I made sure you got the bed by the big window,” Sanji said from the chair he’d pulled up next to your bed, “You joked about it once.. That if you ever got hurt you’d want the room with it.” 
It looked like he’d spent the night. You were in new clothes but he wasn’t. Dark circles lined his eyes.
You smiled at him, “Thanks… For everything. I’d still be there if you hadn’t-”
Your eyes welled with tears and your lower lip was trembling, like your body recognized that within these four walls any emotions would be welcome.
Sanji placed his hand over yours and rubbed his thumb up and down your wrist. 
The tears flowed freely now, as you looked down at his hands. 
“Sanji…” 
He had started washing them but the moment Chopper told him you were stable he abandoned the project altogether. His hands were cleaner but browning bits of red gunk were drying in his nail beds. 
Your eyes were wide as you waited for him to say something, your breath shallowing.
He sighed. He didn’t want you to be reminded of anything that had to do with what you’d gone through.
“Yeah,” he said, at a loss for words. 
“I’m… sorry.” 
You weren’t sure what to say. But your heartbeat picked up as he squeezed your hand.
“Don’t be, mon ange, I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. We all are.” 
You laid your head back down, chewing your lip. 
“I’m glad it was you. That found me.” 
Sanji’s chest tightened. 
He’d come to terms with how he felt about you, a feeling both amplified and confirmed by the sound of your voice. His time spent around you affected him deeply beyond flirty remarks and nicknames. He was reduced to so very little in your presence, a nervous bundle of love sickness and desire. 
And you were glad he found you- that he rescued you. 
“So am I.” 
You turned to look at him. 
It didn’t really have to be said- it was there. 
In his hands dripping with filth and violence, and on your face teary-eyed and thankful. In the lingering touches and glances the two of you have been sharing for the year you’ve been a part of the Straw Hat crew. 
Neither of you had to say ‘I love you’. It was there. 
Sanji pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
“I made soup,” he said smiling at you, “Garbage.” 
You nodded, lightly laughing. It hurt your ribs.
“I can warm some up for you, if you’d like?” He stood up, preparing to leave.
“No- Can you stay? Please,” you said. 
Sanji smiled, “Of course!” 
You scoot over on the bed making space for him, which he happily took. 
You laid your head onto his shoulder, and grabbed his hand. You felt him freeze up when you did, and laughed. 
“You just saved my life and saw me at my lowest- is holding my hand too much?” 
Sanji chuckled, “You’re right. How about this then?” 
He brought a hand underneath your chin and you locked eyes as a smile spread across his face. He dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was soft, and chaste. Perfect. You placed a hand against his neck to prevent him from pulling away and deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips. You felt a small moan escape him and smiled against him. When you finally pulled away a thin string of saliva connected your lips to his.
“Hot,” you said, giggling. 
Sanji’s pupils were blown wide and his cheeks pink. A few beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead and he tugged his tie loose. 
“You okay, Sanj?” 
“Yes! More than okay- I just, I wasn’t expecting that.”
You nodded, holding his hands. 
“Well, I would like to shower and… I take it you haven’t showered yet either.”
Sanji gulped, “Um, no. I haven’t.”
You smiled, admittedly proud of yourself for flustering him out of his flirty act. 
“Would you like to join me?”
Poor thing, he tried his hardest to maintain eye contact and keep up his civilized demeanor, but the steady trickle of blood that had started to pour out of his nose gave him away. 
“Yes!” he yelled, “Mon dieu, tentatrice de femme, yes, please. I would love to join you.”
You laughed, getting up out of bed. 
“Mind carrying me?”
“Of course, my love!”
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up, “It’s nice to have you back, perv.”
He blushed, “What can I say? An offer like that from a woman like you is enough to fix anyone up.” 
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, walking you out of the infirmary toward the showers. 
Kidd: 
You were going to kill him. If you got out of this alive you were going to kill your captain and tear his other arm off. You knew that, one way or another, this heist was going to go wrong. It was messily planned, Killer hadn’t been consulted, and Kidd was motivated primarily by anger and a bruised ego. 
You sighed, somewhat resigned to your fate, and leaned back against the wall, trying to ignore the barrel of a shotgun that was resting against your temple. 
“Mind backing up with that?” 
The pirate holding the weapon shot you a faux-sympathetic smile, “Sorry, baby, Captain’s orders.”
He trailed a finger down your back, causing you to struggle against the cuffs. He dropped his hand and laughed at your reaction. “You’re disgusting,” you spat at him. 
He nodded. “Yeah, and you’re stuck with me here. So better watch that mouth.” 
Your wrists ached, it had been a while since you last felt the weight of sea stone against your skin. It was worse than you remembered. You could feel every muscle in your arms straining above you from where the chain that linked the cuffs hung on a nail. The first time you were handcuffed, the marines had caught you stealing but you were only fifteen, not yet a pirate, and lucky enough to have ran into a notoriously easy going captain who let you off with a warning. Those handcuffs were metal, tight against your wrists but not physically draining- if anything, you were only riled up at the inconvenience of having your hands tied. Sea stone was different. A naturally occurring mineral found in the depths of the ocean weaponized against you and other power holders. When you first felt sea stone a few years after, tight and heavy around your wrists, the fatigue stuck with you the most. How humiliating it was to not only be powerless but to have the will to fight drained from your body. You’d only narrowly escaped and swore to never be rendered so powerless again. 
Yet here you were, silently praying that Kidd would walk in soon. This heist was a bad idea from the start but you’d only agreed because you had stupidly assumed that Kidd had acquired accurate information. Your anger had somewhat subsided as you approached your third hour in captivity, it was too tiring. Hopelessness had begun to spread. 
The entire heist was Kid’s idea in the first place. A poorly executed revenge plot that you and Killer had tried to discourage. 
“That’s them?” you asked, pointing to a group of pirates. 
“Aye… First year we spent in the New World those bawbags got a few good shots on us. Heat came out with a few broken bones and it took us around a month to get Victoria back up and runnin’.” 
“Ohh, I get it. They hurt your ego and you want to get back at them. That always ends well.” 
Kidd scoffed, rolling his eyes at you.
“No- it’s luck. They have the map we need… and a lot of treasure that I wouldn’t mind taking.” 
“See!? Ego. If this was just about necessity we’d take the map and leave. I’m telling you that this is a bad idea.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. He’d had a nonstop headache since you joined the crew. 
“Alright! Alright. Jesus, woman! Killer won’t say yes either way so I need your cooperation. No gold, no treasure. We’ll just grab the map and be on our way.”
“And by we I’m assuming you mean me?” 
He flashed you a smile that made your chest tighten.
“Aye! And if you’re caught they wouldn’t hurt a bonnie lass like ya’ anyway.” 
“Oh, I’m sure. They seem like great people.” 
“Don’t start getting smart with me,” he said, pulling out a piece of paper. 
There was a diagram of a building on it, with a room in the back circled in red ink. 
A thick metal finger landed on it, “Here’s where the map is. This building is relatively unimportant to it so they assign their lower level lackeys to guard it. There’s two guards outside each door, four guards on this one. I’ll distract all except the four by pretending to steal some other shit. They’ll recognize me.”
“And I come in through this window I’m guessing?” 
A window at the end of the hall led right to the room you needed to access.
“Aye. You’ll be alright handling the four of ‘em. But you need to keep one conscious to show you where exactly the map is. Once you’ve got it- run. They’ve got a few devil fruit users in the crew and they’ll be at the scene fairly fast. From there we can bolt.” 
You thought about it. The plan seemed quite out of character. It was extremely unlike Kidd to avoid a fight even in circumstances like this. But maybe he had other reasons…
As though he read your mind he answered, “Look, if it was just me I'd kill every son of a bitch on that crew. But I don't want ya' getting hurt.” 
You sighed, “This is a terrible idea. Your information is twenty percent reliable, at most.” 
“If you follow my instructions and we stay near each other we’ll be fine.”
“Hm, so you’re scared I’ll get hurt, huh?”
You laughed, watching his brows furrow and his cheeks go pink.
“No! Kind of, it's just 'cause you’re weak and I don’t want to have to worry about ya'.” 
“You’re still mad about losing the arm wrestling match to me, huh?” 
He scowled, folding his arms across his chest- refusing to answer. 
“Alright, cry baby let’s go.” 
Kid’s information was wrong. The four guards were the devil fruit users. You’d managed to knock two of them out relying on haki alone, but the two left were stronger. If only you could isolate one of them. Your devil-fruit worked well in close distance one on one fights, but you were mentally unprepared for this fight and the two in front of you were logia-users. You were badly beat up and struggling to stay on the offensive. Your dodges were growing slower and slower, your attacks weaker and weaker. 
Fuck, you thought, trying to stay calm and think of your best course of action. You needed to get into the room they were guarding, if you could just create an opening that caught them off guard. 
You reached for the pocket knife you kept tucked in your boots- it was a dirty move but it would have to do. You faked an attack on one of the two conscious pirates, before quickly changing directions and throwing the knife directly at one of their unconscious crewmates. They both ran in the direction of the knife to defend their crewmate, giving you the perfect opportunity. You slipped past the pirate closest to the door, shutting it behind you and jamming the handle shut with a chair. You had ten seconds tops- a chair wasn’t going to come close to stopping a logia user. Luckily for you, they had made the mistake of assuming no one would get past them and left the map out in the open, on a table with a bunch of other papers. You swiped it, quickly rolling up a loose piece of paper to imitate the map. Right as you finished tucking it into your shirt you felt a hand wrap around your neck, your vision blurring. Damn it, you thought. 
You could faintly hear the voices of the two, ‘What should we do with her?’
‘She didn’t manage to take anything,’ they laughed. A small smile settled onto your face. 
‘She’s pretty, huh?’
You felt something heavy clamp down on your wrists. What little energy had evaporated, and you blacked out. 
You were starting to lose track of time. Three, maybe four hours had passed? You had no way of being sure other than the burning numbness that had spread throughout your body. Your arms were aching in a way you never thought possible, and you had been taken to a second location, you were sure of it. If you were in the same building as before, Kidd would have found you hours ago. But there was no doing anything now. The pirate watching you had kept his distance, aside from an occasional taunt or revolting brush of his fingers. He was now settling in the corner of the room, silently watching you, his gun’s aim never leaving you. You decided that staying quiet and avoiding eye contact was the best course of action, and beating his ass would only be a thought worth entertaining once you were out of the cuffs. 
“So how does a pretty lady like you end up in a situation like this?” 
He broke the silence, much to your disappointment.
You didn’t say anything.
He stood up, coming closer to you. Your stomach churned and you looked down. 
“I asked you a question,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. 
“Fuck. you.” 
You heard the crack of his fist against your jaw before you felt it. It was dizzying and left your mouth bloody and aching. You winced, running your tongue over your now split lip. 
“What’s your name?”
He tucked his gun into his pants. You braced yourself. This was going to be a long night. 
“Your name, baby, what is it?”
You spit the blood that was pooling in your mouth onto him. 
This time it was an uppercut to your stomach. You couldn’t even double-over in pain. The third hit was to the other side of your jaw. 
You stopped counting once they went over eight. You tried to think of something else, anything else.  Killer’s baked goods, Heat and Wire’s terrible joke collection, Kidd’s latest invention or screaming match with you. You’d seen them all only hours ago but your heart was aching. You missed them.
Your mind kept going back to a few weeks ago, replaying a memory you had been trying to forget. 
You were headed to the kitchen, you remember it was warm out- or was it raining? You went with raining. You took more time than usual to make your way up to the kitchen, meandering through the halls and tracing the old wood with your hands. The sound of hushed voices caught your attention, bringing you to a stop outside of your captain’s room.
“Why don’t you talk to her about it?” 
Kidd laughed loudly, more-so to make a point than anything. 
“And say what?  I know I’m an arse and not your type but I’m madly in love with ya’ please don’t kick my arse?” 
Killer chuckled, “That’s one way to do it. Or, you know, you could just be genuine and tell her the reasons why.” 
“‘Cause she’s a tough lass- and a bonnie one, at that, a bit too good for me, no?” he said. Your heartbeat was resonating up in your throat and your mouth ran dry- who were they talking about? Kidd had only ever taunted you for being one of the stronger members on board. Your heart contracted in your chest and a deeply unsettling sense of jealousy creeped its way into your system. You tried to shake it off- it’s not like you wanted your captain to be in love with you. You definitely weren’t in love with him. 
“… I dinnae Kil’,” you heard Kidd continue, “I might be a mean son of a bitch but I don’t think my heart could handle a rejection like that.” 
“You definitely couldn’t,” Killer agreed, laughing, “But I don’t think you’d get rejected. Worth a shot if you ask me.” 
Your brain tried focusing on other things, but you always came back to your captain. Hot-headed and irrational and eighty percent of the reason you were in this mess in the first place. He had you captivated. But it was enough. You felt yourself dancing the line between conscious and not and decided to savor these memories, these  snapshots of a life on the sea. You didn’t hear when Kidd finally came in, staining the walls with a spray of red blood as he tore through the man who had dared lay his hands on you. But when you noticed the lack of hits being thrown your way you looked up. 
Kidd had experienced heartbreak before- many times, but very few things compared to what he felt when he made eye contact with you. If a heart could physically break, tear and twist and shatter, that’s what Kidd felt seeing your face, bruises and bloodied. You took note of the red staining his metal hand. It was painted in multiple shades, light crimson to dark, sticky brown. He’d been at it for a while. 
He rushed to your side, picking you up by the waist and removing the handcuffs from the nail on the wall. Your arms had been numb for an hour or two now. You wished they weren’t so that this release might have felt more satisfying. 
You collapsed into Kidd, who kept his arm wrapped around you, bringing you into his chest. 
“Shh, Y/n, I’ve got ya’ lassie,” he said, voice wavering. 
“Kidd,” you said, wincing as you tried to sit up, “The map-”
“Don’t worry about the map,” he said, picking you up off the ground, “I’m getting you on board. I’ve already called Killer, he’s meeting us about half a mile away.” 
He sat up against the wall, legs spread sort and placed you in between them, your chest against his back. 
“Let me see your hands,” he said. 
You placed your hands in the palm of his metal one, shutting your eyes and he cracked the sea stone around your wrist. The cuffs fell off in pieces around you. 
He stood up, taking you in his arms, “How ya’ feeling?”
You coughed, the change in positions overwhelming you, “Like a million bucks.” 
“Atta girl.” 
Everything was muddy, your awareness, your vision, your memory. You clung to Kidd’s neck, tucking your head into his chest. His heart ached- you were scared. 
“You’re alright, Y/n. I’ve got ya’,” he said, “Won’t let anything happen to ya’.” 
You nodded, but your body refused to relax. At any moment, you told yourself, you were going to open your eyes and be back in that room. Kidd was your lifeline, a solid, physical reminder that you were safe now. 
Killer was understandably furious when he saw the two of you climbing on board, Kidd with some cuts and bruises and you, barely conscious in his arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together and realize that Kidd had ignored his advice. He was on the verge of telling you two off, but one look at your state kept him quiet. You don’t remember much after that, as you fell in and out of consciousness. A feeling of disgust settled deep within you as your mind replayed the way your captor laid his hands on you, and was only soothed at the memory of Kidd’s touch. Of how gentle he was. The next four days passed in a similar fashion. You were much too out of it to know, but Kidd spent the majority of his time by your side. He established his longest arguing streak with Killer yet, by insulting all of the food he brought you insisting that “she doesn’t like that.” He made sure that you got new blankets every few hours, forcibly making Heat warm each new blanket. No one got much sleep until, finally, Kidd decided you were stable enough and retreated to his office to mope. 
You woke up around an hour after Kidd finally left, and got up later that night after. Killer helped you to your feet. The feeling of the cool wood against your bare feet was relieving. 
“Where to madam?” Killer said.
“His office.I have a word or two for him.”
“Whose idea was it, anyway?” 
“Seriously? Whose idea do you think such a stupid stunt like that was?”
“Fair enough, but you were stupid enough to go along with it.”
“Fair enough.” 
Killer dropped you off in front of your captain’s office. 
“Best of luck,” he said, “And... I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried.”
You gave him a quick hug, “Thanks Kil'.”
You opened the door, closing it behind you. 
Kidd turned around to scowl at you. His prior softness already having been replaced with his usual attitude.
“Can’t be bothered to knock?” 
Your hands balled into fists at your side. You marched across the room toward where he was sitting, and landed a heavy slap across Kidd’s face. He staggered two steps back and landed in his seat.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek, “I deserved that.” 
“I told you! I fucking told you it was a bad idea and that your information was most likely innacurate. You risked my life and, even worse, your own. The crew could’ve lost everything, you selfish asshole!” 
He sat silently in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you. His cheeks were pink, one significantly more so than the other. 
“We should have called Killer like I said to and had another person with us- it was idiotic to have gone into that with just the two of us. Did I mention yet that I told you so? But you refuse to listen to anyone other than yourself, you absolute boar.”
The silence hung heavy in the room and you felt pride swell in your chest- you’d never seen your Captain so quiet before. 
“That was the stupidest decision I’ve seen you make in a long time,” you took a deep breath before reaching in your pocket, “But it paid off.” 
Kidd’s head turned to look at you, confusion was plastered over his face. 
You pulled the map out of your pocket and placed it in front of him. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. 
“Thanks for the change of clothes,” by the way, you said sarcastically, “I smell great.”
No doubt he had given up on the map the moment he saw you in that room. He took note of the bruises around your wrists and gently grabbed them without thinking. 
“I’m… sorry,” he said, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists.
God, he could be stupid. But there was no one else you’d follow after as readily. 
You crashed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck with tears pooling in your eyes.
“I’m just glad you’re okay!” 
You felt him stiffen, not having expected you to hug him. 
“I was so worried,” you continued, “That something had happened to you.”
He wrapped his arms back around you, sinking into the weight of your embrace. 
“So was I.” 
You heard him sniffling, and rubbed his back gently. 
“Crybaby.” 
“I’m not cryin’,” he said, voice shaking. 
He squeezed you one last time before letting you go. 
You stood up, facing him. His eyeliner was running. 
It was quiet again, though this time it was much more awkward. You’d yelled at him plenty of times before, but never had you embraced like that. Your pink cheeks now matched his. This time you looked away from him. 
You felt a slight pull at the back of your neck and realized Kidd was pulling you by your necklace closer to him. 
You obeyed and sank down into his lap. Your mind was telling you this this was abnormal, an overstepping of boundaries. Kidd was your captain and friend. You shouldn’t be in his lap hugging him. But it felt so natural. Like the most casual thing in the world. 
“I was terrified,” he said quietly, “That I- That we might lose you.”
You rested your cheek against his, savoring how warm it was.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” 
“Oh trust me, I know,” he laughed, “You’re a rather tough lassie.”
Your ears perked up at that, and very quickly went red. 
“Oh,” you whispered. 
“What’s that?”
“You were talking about me the other day.”
Kidd paused for a second, “Was I?”
You giggled. 
“She’s a rather tough lassie,” you said, imitating his thick accent, “And a bonnie one at that. A bit too good for me, no?”
“Oi, oi! I was talking about someone else,” he said, his cheeks darkening several shades. 
You pinched his cheeks, “Well, that’s too bad. I would’ve said that I feel the same way.” 
He perked up, “Oh, yeah? How’s about I describe this tough lassie and ya tell me if the description fits.”
You smiled.
“Right, she’s about this tall,” he held up his hand to your standing height, “Sittin’ on my lap, and just about the prettiest girl on the sea. And I owe her enormously for my latest fuck up because if anything had happened to her I’d have gone absolutely mad and jumped right on overboard.” 
Your smile softened, and you stared at him for a moment. 
“Sounds about right,” you said. 
“Well, then.”
You leaned in toward him and moved slowly, just in case. Just in case he changed his mind or wanted to backtrack or wasn’t sure. But your lips touched and your captain showed no signs of regret or hesitation so you deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and savoring how he grabbed onto your hips. The kiss grew more and more heated, his grip on you stronger and stronger. You pulled away for air, gasping for breath. Kidd’s lipstick was smudged, and he brought a thumb up to wipe it off of your lips. His hand rubbed gently up and down your back. Fatigue began to take over as you let yourself indulge in the comfort of Kidd’s presence. Despite having been bedridden for several days your body was still mentally and physically in survival mode. Only now with a strong set of familiar arms wrapped around you could you finally relax. 
You laid your head down onto his shoulder, closing your eyes. 
“Tired?” 
“A bit.” 
“Sleep, lass. I’ll carry you to bed.” 
And you did. 
You woke up the next morning feeling more rested than you had in years, a thanks from your body for the break. 
The bedsheets surrounding you were unfamiliar, not your own. 
But the strong hand draped over your waist answered any questions you had started to form. You wiggled back until you felt your captain’s chest against your back, and held his hand, tucking it under your chin. 
“Mornin’ sweetheart.” 
“Good morning, Kidd.” 
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I know your requests are closed so feel free to ignore this but if I don’t type it somewhere I WILL forget it lol. I’ve been re-binge reading your works and just thought of this…
Civilian reader kills someone out of self defense for the first time. And it’s the whole staring at her bloody shaking hands panic attack what have I done fiasco. And her boyfriend or husband helping her through it and dealing with it all (I can see it with Ghost or Price idk)
But yeah feel free to ignore, I know your requests are closed rn
Love your work! You are so talented!
This has been in my inbox for so long, lmao. Sorry for not answering right away - take a few paragraphs w. soft, worried, Simon in compensation.
Warnings for gore, death, blood, panic attack, etc. F!Reader.
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Your body shakes violently, blood dripping down like crimson tears from your hands. The overwhelming sense of dread sits with bullet fragment aggression in the delicate make-up of your psyche.
You weren't meant for this.
Not the blood or the terror. Certainly not the body laying out in the hallway.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp out, shuddering as your throat swells in on itself. Your form had slipped down the wall just across from the door not minutes prior, legs weak and heart pounding like a war call. Now all you can do is stare into the vacant eyes of some random burglar—at the knife you'd stuck in his chest when he'd backed you into Simon's office.
It was a miracle that you remembered where your husband's combat blade had been, seen on some off chance when you'd been cleaning. He tries to keep this all separate, you know.
The blood just keeps slipping out of the corpse. It's a pool now, and you don't know how long you'd been huddled like this until the sounds of rampaging feet and hurried yells of your name bounce off your eardrums.
All you can see is the uncleanable amount of red.
Simon had only gone out to the corner store half an hour ago, getting a quick supper so you both could sit in each other's company. You'd been hesitant to watch him leave so soon after getting home, but he'd sworn he'd only be a few minutes.
None of you had thought too much about the local break-ins. After all, Simon was...well, Simon. And he was home.
S-Simon was home.
There's a loud, barked, curse when the body is discovered, stomping feet that make the entire house shake like it was the epicenter of an earthquake. Your husband's form slashes the front of your vision as he kneels in the blood on the floor. Frantic brown eyes behind his balaclava snap from place to place; taking in the familiar handle and blade in nanoseconds. In his left hand he clutches a pistol, white-knuckled.
But you can't even say anything, because you're as still as stone—breathing in concrete as the gravel shreds your vocal cords and trachea. Reality slips in quick streaks of color as Simon's face flashes into the open doorway.
He sees your wide eyes with a mirroring of his own, bone-deep fear striking in his head with a heated pulse.
"Love!" Simon's rushing to you. Your body can't help but startle back, spine shoving into the wall; fingers still saturated and stained.
Inside your chest, your lungs jerk in a strained whimper.
Your husband freezes, one foot ahead with his widened legs as he fights his mind to rush to you and take you into his arms. Simon puts the gun away with little thought to look for more assailants—all that matters is you.
And you looked terrified.
"Hey," hands reach up to this balaclava, slipping the fabric off as he kneels down slowly to one leg. He tosses it to the floor and you try to focus on the strength of his jaw; those scars and pale hairs as your eyes well with tears. A delicate sob builds. "Hey, now. It's just me, alright?"
Simon speaks softly, hands splayed out and a few feet from you. He wishes to hold you tightly but refrains even as his chest tightens at not being able to calm you. The man can't stand that look on your face.
Your fingers curl into shivering fists, "Simon," you cry, finally able to get a solid word out even if it sounds slurred and ragged.
It's all the permission your husband needs.
Simon jerks forward and takes you up into his large arms; the wide encompassing of his palm on the back of your head and the other circling your waist. He angles you away from the body as he glares into it with hatred and vile curses, hissing venom.
When he found the door busted off its hinges, he'd never felt so panicked. Even now as you release a small wail into his neck Simon's heart races, breath coming in short puffs.
"You're alright, Sweetheart. You're alright. I'm right 'ere." You sag into him, grabbing at his leather jacket with nails digging into the brown material. Simon nuzzles his nose into your scalp, muscles tense, "Breathe, it's over."
All you can focus on is Simon's scent, his words. They're the only thing keeping you from oblivion. Eventually, as your husband rocks you back and forth, you can gasp enough air down to push away the black at the sides of your vision.
"That's right," he whispers, gritting his teeth. "Good girl, keep focusin' on me, yeah? You're doin' perfect." Simon doesn't care about the blood or the screams of sirens in the distance.
For the first time in his life, he doesn't care if someone else happens to see his face.
Your husband pulls his head back and shifts his hold to your cheeks, angling your runny and chilled face upwards. He grits his teeth and his eyes bleed with concern; fear.
"...He do anything?" You can only make out half the words as the sounds all huddle together in a ringing tone, but you shake your head in small flinches. Lips find your forehead—heated and firm. Muttered words. "Did so good, Love, I'm so proud of you. S'not your fuckin' fault, you hear?"
Sniffling, you only whimper once more before lips kiss away your tears; thumbs coming up after to swipe at the remnants. Curling over you, this beast—defined so often as ruthless and deadly—shields you from the image of the man you'd killed in self-defense like a demon of smoke and ash. Holding you as if he can make everything else disappear.
After all, you weren't meant for this. You were meant for your soft skin and your loving eyes. Everything else that Simon tied himself to you for—goodness.
"Simon," you gasp again and shove your face into his chest. For the life of you, you can't say anything else. He knows what you mean.
"I'm here," he repeats. Caressing the back of your head, his hand tenses and softens with leaving adreanaline. "Nothin'll happen to you again. It's all gonna be alright."
You believe him.
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skzdarlings · 2 years
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06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.
-
You kick open your bedroom door.  As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want. 
“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.   
Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever. 
Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him.  The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man.  Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best.  Lee Felix is the best.  Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter.  Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself.   He is annoyingly good at it.    
Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes.  An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention.  Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind.  Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard.  Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary. 
Including the one tonight. 
“I was just doing my job,” Felix says.  He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone.  He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content. 
You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave. 
“You broke his arm!” you cry.   
Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment.  He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt.  He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror.   He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.   
“I was just doing my job,” he repeats.  He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.  
Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic.  His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles.   That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back. 
You swallow.  The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head.  It joins the pile of discarded articles. 
He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.  
“His arm,” you repeat.  “You broke his arm.  He was a completely innocent guy!  I’m allowed to flirt with guys!  Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.” 
Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile. 
“Cute,” he says.  He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt.  Just not with him.”
“His arm—”
Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk. 
“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?”  Felix says.  He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer.  Not that he waits.  Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet. 
“Get ready for bed,” Felix says.  “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way.  I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.” 
He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone.  He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome. 
Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch.  You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit.  You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation. 
Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality.  Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock.  Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.
When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated.  He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.  
You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed.   You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night.  You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window.  You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.    
As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it.  You still need Felix.  You still share a bed.  Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not.  Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.
You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care.   If you can’t have what you want then neither can he.   You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously.  You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn. 
“Really?”  Felix says.  “Do we have to do this tonight?” 
“I’m not doing anything,” you say.   
“Right.”  He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed.  He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure.  His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear.   He leans on one arm, looking at you.  “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.” 
Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it.  The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it.  Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it. 
His smile only deepens. 
“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says.  “It’s been a long day, yeah?  And we’re both so tired.  Come on.  Let’s go.  Just need some rest I think.  Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” 
You do not move.    
You hear him sigh, a melodic sound.  He runs his hand through his hair again. 
“All right,” he says, soulfully.  “All right.  Fine.” 
You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late.  Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side. 
That second is too long.  Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.
“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail.   “I’ll phone my dad!”
He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap. 
“Go ahead,” he says.  “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach.  It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side.   “Well?” he asks.  “Do you want to phone him?”   
“I hate you,” you say.
“I know,” he replies.  “Sorry.” 
He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass.  His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again. 
“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem. 
You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him.  He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour. 
“I hate you,” you say again. 
He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.  
“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time. 
“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives.  He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.  
You hate him.  You really, really do hate him.  You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof.  But you can’t do that.  You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.  
You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle.  His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.
You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.
“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 
He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head. 
“Stop being silly,” he says.  “Go get ready for bed.” 
Your eyes follow him as he stands.  He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back.   Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did.   He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge. 
He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.
“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still.  “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”
His nostrils flare with his next breath. 
You smile, victorious. 
“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask.  “You can do no wrong.  Little does he know…”
“I do my job,” Felix says.  “And I do a good job.  Okay? That’s all that matters.”   
You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly.   You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him.  It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry. 
This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably.  He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger.   He knows better than to just let go.   He knows you perfectly.  You glare at him. 
“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again.  “I said look at me.”   He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression.  “You’re listening, yeah?” he says.  He doesn’t wait for an answer.  “You’re going to go to your closet.  Get ready for bed.  Sleep.  You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.” 
“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly.  “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?” 
He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.
“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings.  “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”   
Leaving the club, you were both wired.  Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm.  You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you.   He always does.  No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job. 
You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions.   Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on.  It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated.  You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer.  Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs. 
Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish.  Because he’s the worst. 
And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.
“I—”  you start. 
He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know.  You hate me.  Now go.”
You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet.  You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway. 
You get ready for bed.   You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room. 
Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you.   You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it.   So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin. 
You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake.  You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans.  He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers.  He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down. 
The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you.  You roll over to face him.  His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep. 
“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”
“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes. 
You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest.  He opens his eyes and stares straight up. 
“I need a cuddle,” you say.  “Or I’ll have nightmares.” 
“You’re not a child anymore,” he says. 
That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this.  When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him.  Now, he keep his distance.  Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you. 
So no one does.    
“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas. 
“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.  He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head.  He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you. 
You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears. 
Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this.  You just know that it was somehow worse.   Worse than being a watchdog.  Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else.   Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.  
You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings.  You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other.  You watch a shiver roll down his spine.   He doesn’t turn around. 
Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed.  You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears.  You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.    
Fabric rustles.  You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms.   You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck. 
“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else. 
“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.
“I know.”  He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck.  “I know.” 
You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you.  He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all.  All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible.  His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling. 
“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair. 
He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. 
“You know we can’t do that,” he says. 
“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart.  It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you.  You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck.  “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him.  “Remember?”
He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head. 
“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says. 
“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband.  “It really was.  But it felt good, didn’t it?   Dangerous.  Coming inside me like that.”
Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible.  You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night.  Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out. 
That time was… a lot.   You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone.  It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved. 
That feeling is mutual.  Felix knew better too.   If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you.   Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist.  You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted.  It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that.   You didn’t even panic after the fact.   You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine. 
You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period.   He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.  
Your father has truly never suspected a thing.  He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier.  He doesn’t know anything about Felix.  Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.  Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything.  Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.  
You drag your calf up the back of his leg.
“Felix,” you say. 
He gives you no chance to say more.  One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you.  Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument.   He knows it as well as you do.  As you do his.  It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you. 
“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling.  He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile.  “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says. 
“What? Noooo…”  Your giggle turns into a gasp.  You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars. 
“Yes, you are,” he says.  “But you won’t win.” 
“I will,” you say.
“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.” 
He makes you come twice before he does.  He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall.  He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing. 
“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears.  “Getting off to me crying.”
“I’m—not—I just—”
“Liar,” you tease.  “You totally are.”
He just giggles.  Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.
“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says.  “Got you.  Got you.  I—”
You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.  
You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.   When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly. 
“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own. 
“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity. 
You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that.  He laughs then kisses you.   The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate.  It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did.  You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back. 
“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say.  You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips.  If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it.   So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say,   “I hate you so much.”   You sniffle when he wipes your tears away.   You turn your face.  “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” 
“I know,” he says in a strained voice.  He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales.   “I know, sweetheart.” 
4K notes · View notes
harunayuuka2060 · 5 months
Text
Ruggie: Hm? Where are you going, Leona?
Leona: I'm gonna welcome Akihiko. He said that he was waiting at the gate.
Ruggie: Eh?
Ruggie: Are ya' not gonna tell Yuurin first?
Leona: She's in the middle of class. I'll just lead her brother to her classroom.
Ruggie: Oh, okay.
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: By the way, what are you going to do with that nerf gun?
Leona: Leal.
Ruggie: Lol. Poor dude.
Vil: What? Leona has a girlfriend?
Epel: Yeah!
Vil: ...
Vil: That's impossible. Do you think someone like "Leona" can woo a woman?
Rook: I see no reason why not, Roi du Poison. If Roi des Lions can charm a man, I don't see why it wouldn't be possible with a woman.
Vil and Epel: ...
Vil: What the hell, Rook. Anyway, Epel, why did you think that Leona has a girlfriend?
Epel: Well, I saw him accompanying this lady and they seem very close.
Vil: ...
Vil: Didn't it come to you that they might just be friends?
Epel: ...
Epel: Right.
Vil: *sigh*
Akihiko: *walking gracefully as Leona and Leal accompany him*
Leona: *noticed the other students staring*
Leona: Why these kids gawking?
Leal: It might be because of Master Akihiko's beauty.
Leona: ...
Leona: How come you didn't dress as a guy?
Akihiko: Finding men's clothes that suited me was challenging.
Leal: ...
Leona: ...
Akihiko: Oh! Is this the class Yuurin is in?
Leona: Yeah. *knocks on the door*
Professor Trein: *opens it* Hm? Kingscholar?
Leona: 'Sup, Trein.
Professor Trein: *looks at Akihiko and Leal*
Professor Trein: Who are these people?
Leona: Ah, this one is Aki- I mean, Akane, Yuurin's older sister.
Leona: And this guy right here is Leal, their servant.
Leal: ...
Professor Trein: Oh. It's nice to meet you. I'm Mozus Trein. A history professor here at Night Raven College.
Akihiko: It's nice to meet you, Professor Trein. I've heard from Yuurin that you are one of his favorite professors.
Professor Trein: *chuckles* You flatter me.
Leona: Is Yuurin in your class?
Professor Trein: Yes. The students are having an exam. But I don't mind if the three of you watch.
Akihiko: *smiles* That would be lovely. Thank you, Professor Trein.
Yuurin: *hasn't noticed Akihiko, Leona, and Leal yet since she's too focused on answering the exam and making sure that every answer is correct*
Professor Trein: Your brother is quite studious.
Akihiko: *nods in agreement*
Ace: *yawns* *then happens to look at the front* Huh?
Ace: *starts tapping on Deuce's shoulder*
Deuce: What?
Ace: *whisper-yelled* A girl!
Deuce: Huh? *then looks at where he's pointing*
Deuce: ...
Akihiko: *wearing an elegant floral, long-sleeve dress with a surplice neckline*
Akihiko: *smiles and waves at them*
Ace and Deuce: *blushes in embarrassment and returns to answering their test papers*
Leona: Tch.
Yuurin: *finished up checking her answers and looked up to ask Professor Trein, then spotted Akihiko*
Yuurin: ...
Akihiko: *mouths* 'Are you done?' *smiles*
Yuurin: *nods* *then looks sternly at Leal*
Leal: *immediately lowers his head*
Leona: Wow. Good luck to you, Leal.
Leal: *mumbles* Master Akihiko, can I just wait for you outside the campus?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: Yes, it's fine.
Yuurin: Where is your husband?
Leona: He fled after you glared at him.
Yuurin: ...
Akihiko: *chuckles* That was Leal.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Did you marry him because he was nice?
Akihiko: You could say that.
Leona: Heh.
Ace and Deuce: Yuurin! *is running towards them*
Ace: Is she your older sister?!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Yes.
Akihiko: Pleased to meet you. My name is Akane. Yuurin's older sister.
Ace: Wha~! You're beautiful! No wonder Yuurin's so handsome!
Leona: *glares at Ace*
Ace: ...
Deuce: Nice to meet you, Sis Akane! My name's Deuce Spade! I'm one of Yuurin's closest friends!
Ace: A-And I'm Ace Trappola! Your future brother-in-law!
Leona: Huh?
Ace: Yikes! I'm just joking, senpai!
Idia: Eh? Yuurin's older brother?
Ortho: Hm!
Idia: ...
Idia: Is he together with Yuurin now?
Ortho: It seems they went to Savanaclaw. Why don't we go there to greet him, brother?
Idia: ...
Idia: I'll just send Yuurin a dm.
Ortho: No! You should greet them personally!
Idia: Leona is there! What do you want me to do?!
Akihiko: Yuurin~ Bluebell~?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *sigh* *switches to her feminine voice* What is it, Aki?
Akihiko: *claps happily*
Akihiko: Your feminine voice is adorable, bluebell!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: It's not as adorable as your feminine voice.
Akihiko: Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will improve more in the next couple of years.
Leona: Aki's right. Anyway, we should go shopping.
Yuurin: Shopping?
Akihiko: Yes. I want to go shopping with you, bluebell.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Alright. *just wants to spend time with her brother*
Leona: Oh, is Leal going to tag along?
Yuurin: ...
Akihiko: I think it's best if we leave him. *smiles*
515 notes · View notes