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hoejosatoru · 2 months ago

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it's nice to have a friend

Pairing: Fem!reader x Bachira, readers hair color/texture and skin color not specified. Characters are aged up 21+

Summary: You have been keeping a secret from your best friend for years: you're in love with him. Throughout the years it gets harder and harder to be close with him, but not in the way you really want. You reach a crossroads: tell him how you feel and risk your friendship, or accept it was never meant to be.

a/n: This took me way longer to write than I expected, but I'm happy to finally have it out. Title based on the Taylor swift, which is what inspired aspects of this fic.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Slowish burn friends to lovers, light bullying in childhood sections from unnamed character to reader, mutual pining, fingering, pet names, unprotected sex, cream pie. Not proof read. If aging up characters make you uncomfortable, don't read. MDNI

When you were 8 years old...

You met Bachira for the first time. You were at the park, collecting little flowers to put in your hair. You were about to pick a rather pretty pink one when a soccer ball rolled over it, crushing the delicate flower.

"Hey!" you grumbled at the young boy chasing after the ball, "You ruined my flower!"

The boy, who looked your age, looked down at the damage his ball caused. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said apologetically. He twisted around, scanning the grassy field. "Hold on!" You watched as the boy dashed away, picked a flower, then return to you. It looked just like the one you had been about to pick.

"Thank you," you beamed.

"Do you wanna play soccer with me?" he asked. He was passing the ball back and forth between his feet.

"I don't know how," you replied.

"I'll teach you! It's fun." He was balancing the ball on his foot now, which you found impressive. You'd always been a more solitary child, opting to play things on your own, however something about this boy made you interested in trying something new.

"Yeah, okay. Just a second." You quickly tucked the pink flower into your hair.

"Pretty," he smiled. "I'm Bachira, by the way. C'mon let's go!"

And so began your chasing after Bachira.

When you were 10 years old...

You and Bachira were each other's best friends. He never was able to get you into soccer, but you still humored him by kicking the ball around. Mostly, you just stood as an obstacle for him to practice his dribbling around, but you didn't mind. It was cool to see your best friend be so good at something.

Plus, Bachira was a fair sport. You loved drawing, which he'd always do with you. You thought Bachira's mom was so cool because she was an artist. You loved going over to his house and painting with her and Bachira.

Today, though, was a soccer day. You were passing the ball back and forth when it got away from you, as it often did. You ran after it, but it came to a stop in front of a boy’s feet. You gulped as you looked up, finding the class bully staring down at you.

"Watch where you're kicking that, loser," he sneered at you.

"'M n-not a loser," you replied, attempting to sound brave. The bully only laughed at you.

"Y-yes you are," he mimicked the catch in your voice meanly.

"Leave her alone!" Bachira shouted as he ran to your side.

"Aw look, it's your weirdo boyfriend!" he mocked.

Your cheeks flushed, embarrassed by this for a reason you couldn't quite place. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"He should be, no one else likes you," he replied.

"Shut up!" you snapped, trying to get the ball away from him. You lacked the skills Bachira had, so he was able to keep it away. Your efforts made you stumble closer, allowing the bully to yank a lock of your hair. The force caused you to topple to the ground.

"Ow!" you cried as your knees hit the hard ground.

Bachira's eyes flared with anger. "Don't touch her!" Bachira lunged at the bully, who tried to evade him, but failed. Bachira managed to steal the ball back and then shoved the bully to the ground. He hit the ground with a resounding thud. An embarrassed flush reddened his cheeks.

"Whatever, you guys are freaks!" he yelled, before scrambling away.

Bachira turned to you, anger replaced by concern on his face. "Are you okay y/n?”

"Yeah, I'm fine," you nodded. Your cheeks were flushed, but for a completely different reason that your bully's were. Seeing Bachira stand up for you like that made you feel a way you never felt before.

"C'mon let's go back to my house. My mom will take us for ice cream." Bachira held his hand out to you to help you up. When you took it, your stomach flipped. A soft sort of warmth filled you, like hot chocolate after a day in the snow. Bachira held your hand the whole walk back to his house, chattering on as he often did when he knew you were upset. You, however, had practically forgotten about the bully, your attention completely taken over by this new feeling brought on by your best friend.

When you were 14...

You had long since come to terms with what those feelings meant. You had a crush on your best friend. It was your biggest secret, the only secret you kept from him. The two of you were as close as ever, despite gaining some more friends in middle school. Bachira had joined the soccer team and, unsurprisingly, was one of the top players. He made some friends on the team and you made some in art club. Though none of those relationships came close to what you had with Bachira. You refused to ruin that by blurting out how you really felt about him.

On this day, you both sat up on Bachira's roof, as you did more frequently now. The sun was setting on the last day of summer and tomorrow you'd be starting high school. You were nervous about the transition. You felt the levity of childhood waning behind you, as if all the choices you made from now on would hold more weight.

"What do you think high school will be like?" Bachira asked you. He had his hands behind his head, watching the sunset in a relaxed manner.

"Dunno," you replied, "Everyone makes it seem like a big deal. What do you think?"

Bachira shrugged. "I don't think it will be so bad." That was Bachira for you, always unbothered.

"I'm so jealous you never get nervous about anything," you sighed.

"I get nervous about somethings, like what if I don't get on the soccer team," he countered.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "You're absolutely going to make the team, Meguru. I bet you'll even get on varsity."

"Don't jinx me now," he replied, grinning. He wasn't superstitious at all, but hearing your unwavering faith in him delighted him.

"Just don't let it get to your head and ditch me for cooler friends," you replied, covering your real fears in a jovial tone.

Bachira snorted. "I don't think you have to worry about that." Bachira rolled over to face you, jabbing his finger into your ribs. "Besides, no one is cooler than you."

"Yeah, whatever," you laughed nudging his shoulder back. "Just don't want things to change. People start dating and stuff and shit gets messy." You never had a boyfriend, though a few of friend dabbled in dating in middle school. You simply weren't interested in anyone. Bachira did not seem interested in romance, either, but you knew that day would come and you were dreading it.

"You stress too much, y/n," Bachira replied.

"Ugh I know I do," you sighed, "I'll probably end up like Isagi." You referenced Bachira's teammate who after weeks of stressing about how he would go in for his first kiss ended up biting the girl on accident.

Bachira laughed. "Is that what you're worried about? No way your first kiss could be worse than that."

"God I hope not," you replied, "Just that all my friends have kissed people. Sometimes I feel like I'm falling behind."

"I haven't kissed anyone either," he pointed out.

"That cause we're both losers."

"True," Bachira chuckled. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "Hey I've got an idea. Why don't we just kiss each other?"

Your head whipped around. "Huh?"

"You know just to get it out of the way, so you're not as stressed about when you have to kiss someone," he replied.

"Are you messing with me?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Bachira liked to pull little pranks and if he was just joking around, you didn't wanna agree and look like an idiot.

"Why not?" Bachira shrugged. "We're just friends, it doesn't have to mean anything." While it stung a little to hear Bachira say kissing you wouldn't mean anything, you couldn't pass up an opportunity to kiss him.

"Okay, yeah," you nodded. "Why not." There was a beat of silence before you both started to move closer to each other. You both let out awkward little laughs before your eyes fluttered shut. The next thing you knew, Bachira's mouth was pressed against yours.

You weren't sure how long it was, it really couldn't have been that long, but you swore time froze. Your entire body felt alive, buzzing with warmth. You leaned into him, letting yourself soak up every second of his soft lips against yours.

When you pulled away you were breathless and flushed. You quickly turned away, afraid that he might catch how much you enjoyed that. "Thanks," you mumbled, laying back down.

"That's what friends are for." Bachira laid beside you once again. The two of you stayed up on the roof until the sun dipped below the trees surrounded by a charged silence. You never spoke of the kiss again.

When you were 16...

You were heartbroken for the first time. Bachira had a girlfriend.

As you had predicted, Bachira made varsity in his freshman year and quickly became a star player. You went to every single game, happy to cheer on your best friend's success. With the success, came more people wanting to befriend him and, eventually, girls who were interested in dating him.

It wasn't until now, in junior year, that he ever accepted anyone's advances. You didn't know the girl very well, but you tried to be friendly. As much as it hurt to see Bachira with someone, you did want him to be happy. His girlfriend, however, had no interest in you. She was cold at best, often trying to keep Bachira from spending time with you.

Bachira still made efforts to hang out with you, but it was different. To fill the void, you tried dating yourself. A nice boy from one of your math classes. He asked you out and you figured you might as well give it a shot. Maybe, you thought, this would help you get over your unrequited love Bachira.

The relationship did not last long. He was a great guy, truly, but your heart wasn't in it. Nothing made you feel like Bachira did. You were grateful to part amicably with him.

Luckily, just a few months later Bachira ended his relationship as well. "She was a total bitch," he said as you walked home together after his game.

"I coulda told you that," you replied.

Bachira was bouncing the ball between his feet as he walked. "Next time please do. I didn't like how she treated you, I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner."

You shrugged. "It's whatever. Just try to find someone cooler next time."

Bachira grinned. "Gonna be hard to find someone cooler than you, but I'll try."

When you were 17...

Bachira asked you to go to prom as friends. Neither of you had any other relationships after your respective first time failures. You were ecstatic to be going with Bachira, even if it was just as friends. Your parents fawned over both of you, making to take about a million photos before you left. You both acted annoyed, but loved it. It was an excuse to touch, to be close. You were happy with Bachira's arms around you, even if it was just for a photo.

You put upcoming graduation out of your mind, determined to just have fun. College was looming, the inevitable separation of the two fo you. You just wanted to enjoy every minute with Bachira tonight.

Unbeknownst to you, Bachira was harboring similar feelings. He's had a crush on you for as long as he could remember, but never felt brave enough to tell you. He told himself it would be tonight, prom being the perfect time to make it special. But all the nerve he had worked up dissolved when he found you dancing with your ex after he stepped away for the bathroom. He suddenly felt foolish and locked his feelings deeper inside.

When you were 18...

You and Bachira were apart for the first time in your decade long friendship. Bachira went to one of the top collegiate soccer programs and you found yourself at a college known for the arts. While you were excited for this, it was difficult to be without your best friend.

"We'll be in touch," Bachira promised, "You'll get so sick of hearing from me so much." While you doubted that, you were reassured that he valued your friendship so much.

But it was easier said than done. In the beginning, you facetimed each other nearly every day, but as his soccer training picked up and your coursework increased it became difficult. The daily calls devolved into texts every few days, with the occasional FaceTime. There was a small part of you that was okay with the communication dwindling. It was hard to see Bachira without you, knowing his life was growing in a way you wouldn't be a part of. That people would enter it that he may come to care for more than you. It was almost easier to just ignore it.

When you were 22...

You were graduating from college and Bachira was set to play for a pro league overseas. As you progressed through college and Bachira pick dup training to be a pro athlete, your presence in each other's day-to-day lives dwindled. You kept contact with each other as best as you could and even visited each other at your respective schools a few times.

The best part of being with Bachira was that it was like nothing had ever changed. As sad as it was at times that you didn't get to see each other much, it felt good that it never impacted the core of your friendship.

Both of you had a string of relationships in college, none of them lasting that long. There was always something missing in the other person, a spark that they couldn't quite ignite.

As you hugged Bachira goodbye at the airport, you couldn't stop tears from flowing down your face. Not just for your best friend moving half a world away, but for all things you never said. For how you wished things could be different between the two of you. It all felt too late now.

"Oh come on y/n, you're not gonna miss me that much," Bachira teased lightly.

"Don't worry these are tears of joy," You replied, wiping them away. "I'm glad I'm finally getting rid of you.

Bachira grinned. "You'll never get rid of me."

"Is that a threat?"

"Nah, a promise."

When you were 25...

You got a call from Bachira. He was moving back home. Bachira had been offered a spot on the national team after his years of success overseas. His time away was not that much unlike when you were both away for college, checking in with each other whenever time allowed. The best part of him being away was being able to visit him. The fondest memories you had of the last year few years were when you traveled to his games and you got to explore different countries with him. Leaving was always difficult, so you were elated to hear that he would be just an hour from you.

But as you drove to his new place to see him for the first time in months, a choice weighed heavily on you. You've spent the last few years trying to find a relationship that would shake your want of Bachira. All your attempts, however, failed, leaving you feeling hopeless. So, you made the decision it was time to tell Bachira how you felt. You didn't expect him to reciprocate your feelings at all, but your hope was that getting it out of your system would allow you to finally move on.

You were scared, of course, that it could make your friendship awkward. But at this point, you felt there was no other choice.

The anxiety in your stomach to a backseat to the beautiful house you pulled up to. "Jeez, Meguru what are they paying you?"

"Too much, probably," Bachira replied with a grin. "C'mon, lemme give you the tour." It was a spacious, modern home with big windows the let in a lot of natural light. The artist in you would kill to have a space like this to paint in. One room, not furnished yet, had large windows overlooking the spacious backyard. The perfect place for Bachira to get his own practices in.

"A lot of house for one man," you said as you settled into his couch.

"I'm a big guy."

You snorted, "You're like 5'9."

Bachira huffed in faux offense. "I'll have you know, I measured in at 5'9 and a half."

"Wow, at that height you might have to switch over to basketball," you retorted. You and Bachira fell into you normal banter, which filled you with the comfortable warmth it always did. You chatted for awhile, catching up on all you've missed while away from each other.

Time slipped away from the two of you easily, the light fading from golden to an inky black of night. A silence settled over the two of you and nerves fluttered through your system. Now was your opportunity.

Just as you were steeling yourself to tell Bachira, he broke the silence. "Do you remember that night on my roof? The day before high school started?"

"Of course," you replied. Though it was over a decade ago at this point, it was a memory you replayed often.

"I had such a big crush on you," Bachira dropped this tidbit of information with a soft, nervous laugh.

Your head whipped around, certain you didn't hear him right. "What?"

"I liked you," Bachira repeated, "I was actually gonna ask you out, but then you said something about dating making things weird. I thought you were trying to subtly hint you weren't into me like that."

Your brain could barely process the information just presented to you. Bachira liked you. He had been that close to telling you and you fucked it up. You covered your face with your hands groaned. "I'm such a fucking idiot."

"What do you mean?"

"I liked you, Bachira. I only said that because I was convinced you didn't like me and I was scared you were gonna start dating other people and forget about me," you explained. You were seriously kicking yourself at the moment. "If only I had kept my stupid mouth shut... all this time."

"Wait are you, serious? You liked me?" Bachira, replied, seeming genuinely surprised.

You nodded. "I... I still do," you answered. Might as well put all your cards on the table now. "I was actually planning to tell you tonight. I wasn't expecting to do it like this, but I couldn't hide it anymore."

"Wow," Bachira breathed.

"Yeah," you replied, "It's okay if you don't feel the same anymore."

Bachira laughed. "Now you are being a bit of an idiot." You shot him a look. "Oh come on, y/n, you really don't think I don't have feelings for you? For as well as you know me I can't believe you didn't see it."

"You didn't see that I liked you either," you countered.

"Well, I admittedly am an idiot," Bachira replied, making you both laugh. "I have something else to admit."

"What's that?" You couldn't imagine any more information, your head was already spinning.

"Well, I sorta bought this place with you in mind," he replied. "I also was planning on telling you how I felt when I returned home. If you felt the same, I was hoping you'd move in with me. That little room in the back looked like the perfect place to paint."

"You're fucking with me." You were too shocked to think of anything else to say. Meguru liked you. All this time, all these years he'd longed for you the same way you had. So much so that he was willing to shape his life around yours, to make space for the things he knew you loved. You felt tears prick at the back of your eyes.

"As much as I love fucking with you," he replied with a hint of a teasing grin, "This is not one of those times. And the offer stands. There is a place for you here with me, if you want it."

Your body moved on it's own accord, flinging yourself on to him. Your lips connected to his and suddenly you were 14 again. In that second where everything felt right in the world. Only this time it was not a fleeting moment, it was something real, something you could hold on to.

"I'll take the at as a yes?" Bachira asked when you pulled away, both breathless.

"Absolutely yes." Bachira was pulling you back into him as the words left your mouth. You were giddy as you kissed each other, hands exploring the other's bodies. Neither of you wanted to hold back after years of wanting this moment. You straddled his lap, pressing yourself even closer to him.

Bachira gripped under your thighs and held you as he stood up. "I have not waited this long to be with to have our first time be on a couch." He carried you with ease to the bedroom.

"When did you get this strong?"

"It's like you forget I'm a pro athlete." Honestly, sometimes you did.

"Yeah, but soccer players have strong legs not arms," you countered as he laid you down on his bed. Well, it was your bed too now. Bachira chuckled and kissed up your neck.

"All of me is strong. You'll see." He pulled off his shirt, revealing toned muscle and paving his point.

Bachira slid your shirt off, letting his hands explore your bare skin. He rolled your nipples in his fingers as his teeth tugged at your lower lip. A soft whine escaped you as you bucked your hips up for friction.

"Mmm, should I take these off you?" Bachira mused, hooking his finger into your pants. You nodded eagerly, wanting nothing more for Bachira to strip you, touch you. He did as you bid, leaving you bare for him.

"Fuck you're so beautiful," Bachira murmured. His hand traced down the length of your body. "Better than I ever imagined. Because to be honest I imagined you naked. A lot." You giggled, not bothered by this at all.

"It's okay I have pictured you naked plenty of times." Bachira grinned at that. It struck you how natural this all felt. The nature of your relationship had changed drastically in the last few minutes, and yet it didn't feel different at all. You were afraid that the admitting your feelings would take away the friendship you had, but it had done the opposite. It felt stronger, heightened, like this was always how it was meant to be.

"Guess I shouldn't keep you waiting, then." You pulled your lip between your teeth as Bachira took off the remainder of his clothes. Your body churned at the sight of him. His cock was long and flushed a pretty shade of pink. He looked painfully hard, leaking at the tip. "How's it compare to your imagination?"

"So much better."

Bachira leaned back over you, settling his hand between your legs. "Gonna prep you for me, okay angel?" His middle finger stroked up your slit. "Fuck you're soaked." Bachira breathed against your neck as he rubbed little circles over your clit. Your pussy clenched in response, desperate to be filled. He connected his lips back to yours as his slid a finger inside you.

Bachira kissed you deep and a little messy as he played with your pussy. His middle and ring finger were deep inside you, pressing your g spot with each curl. "Megu- ngh- feels so good." You were already breathless from his touch. It was if he already had you memorized, knowing exactly how to make you come undone.

"Gonna cum for me pretty? Wanna feel it on my fingers." He moved faster now, the sound of your wetness was damn near pornographic. With anyone else you may have been embarrassed, but you didn't care. Your mind could only focus on the pleasure that built, then finally snapped inside you.

"Meguru!" His name was honey on your lips. Your pussy clamped down around him, coating his fingers with your release. He pumped his fingers as you came, getting your pussy nice and slick for his cock.

"That was so hot," Bachira marveled. "Need to be inside you." You urged him, wanting to finally be full of him, not just his fingers. "Oh god," he groaned as he pressed inside you. Your wet, warm walls welcomed him, pulling him deeper inside you. You let out sweet little gasps as your body stretched around him.

"Feels amazing y/n," Bachira groaned, sliding his cock slowly through your walls. "So fucking perfect... can't believe I've wasted so much time... could've been fucking you like this for years." His hips snapped harder and faster as spoke. He was getting lost in the feel of you. Every time he thought he couldn't get better, your cunt fluttered around him and he reached a new lever of pleasure.

"You have me, Meguru," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. "All of me. Forever." Your back arched, making his cock his a deeper angle inside you. You both moaned into each other mouths as you kissed.

"Gonna cum y/n," Bachira babbled, "Gonna fill you up... cum with me angel... wanna feel you." He slid his hand down to toy with your sensitive clit as he thrust into you. Your body responded with a sweeping surge of pleasure throughout your whole body. You shook and slurred out his name as your second orgasm lit up your body.

Bachira's forehead fell to the pillow, beside your head as you clamped down on him impossibly tighter. A low groan escaped him as his hips halted deep inside you, filling you with his release. You felt his cock throb inside you as his warmth spread inside you.

"Fuck." Bachira was breathless and still buried inside you, even though you were both finished. "Promise I'm not just saying that because that was amazing. But I'm in love with you. I can't believe I waited so long to tell you that, but it's true."

You smiled, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "I love you too, Meguru."

When you were 26...

You and Bachira took a trip back to your hometown. You visited the park you first met in, reminiscing on old memories.

The next thing you knew, Bachira was down on one knee.

You said yes.

When you were 27...

You were dancing in a wedding dress with Bachira. You had a small ceremony in your backyard with your close friends and family. It was magical, better than anything you dreamed up when you envisioned this day as a child.

As the two of you swayed slowly together to the tune of your wedding song, Bachira pressed his forehead to yours. Instantly, it was like you were the only two there. Bachira said I love you in your favorite way.

"I'm so glad you're my best friend."

#this took so long for no reason #bachira smut #bachira x reader #bachira headcanons #bachira x you #bachira x y/n #blue lock hc #blue lock headcanons #blue lock smut #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru x you

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bb-eilish · 1 year ago

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Blooming Eyes

pairing; collegeathlete!anakinx flowershopworker!reader

summary; After accidentally knocking over another student with her painting, Y/n seems to have caught the eye of him. The same eyes that stare at her, blue and intense have trapped her, so she does what she does best; paint.

word count; 14.5k

warnings; P in v sex, multiple smut scenes, rough sex, romantic sex, mutual pining, obsession, dirty talk, name-calling, dumbification, making out( so much kissing omg), cunnilingus, creampie, etc etc

Working and going to school wasn’t fun, Y/n’s sure nobody has ever said it was. Though, her job was, oddly, pretty nice. She worked in a flower shop for Christ's sake, she was around nice people, and even nicer flowers.

School on the other hand was not as enjoyable. Y/n was in school for painting, and because of these two things people were able to figure her out easily. A sensitive woman who owns multiple cats, some even going as far as labeling her a "crazy cat lady" and trying to decipher her mental health for some reason.

She didn't let that bother her though, she lived a cozy life and for that she was grateful.

"I'll miss you." She pouts at her cat. The fluffy white one, Cherry, brushed against her legs as Y/n crouched, she briefly licked Y/n's fingers before rubbing her furry face against them. The woman smiled softly at the white fluff ball as she swept her hand down the cat's furry back.

"Don't think I forgot about you Mr. Grumpy pants." Y/n smiles as she steps over to her other cat, the broody void named Bear. He was curled up on top of her couch cushion, hiding his pouty face as she baby-talked. "I'll miss you too." The black cat uncurled to stretch and play with Y/n's fingers. She finally grabbed her backpack, the large canvas she had to drag to class, and waved at the two cats before opening and shutting the door to her apartment.

Traffic wasn't too bad, though, she wouldn't mind if it was. She enjoys blasting music and singing as loud as she wants. It was therapeutic. But, as she was pulling into the parking lot infront of the art building, she turned a little too sharp and the canvas in her backseat went flying. A mantra of "shit shit shit shit shit" flew out of her mouth as she parked and prayed it didn't break. Y/n whips around and inspects the item before slumping down in relief.

Now, the worst part, getting this monstrosity into class without injuring her fellow classmates.

"Sorry, 'scuse me." She mutters as she sidesteps and tip-toes through a crowd of people. A large clock sits on the wall of the building she's facing and, of course, it reads ‘9:29’. Her class starts at 9:30, she knows college professors are more lenient but she didn’t get that kind of teacher.

She loves her art class, absolutely adores it, but the teacher is a bit of a stickler and will kick students out if they're more than a minute late. Y/n thankfully spots the brick building just in time. Suddenly, "Go long" is yelled from beside her. Whipping her head around, she spots a student who is obviously an athlete and rolls her eyes, turning back to look in front of her.

But that would, simply, be too easy. Her canvas completely bulldozes over somebody as she turned around for half a second. "Oh my god." She spoke, not at the man on the ground, but at the freshly ripped hole right in the center of her painting. Terror paints her face as she stares at it. "Watch where you're going maybe." One of the guy's friends says.

"My painting.." She says as the man on the ground gets up. She's about to apologize when the clock from before chimes at 9:30, her eyes widen more, if possible, so she offers a mumbled "Sorry" before scrambling off.

"Are you okay, Anakin?"

"Yea...I'm fine." He lets out, still a little stunned. Not at him being basically tackled, but at her. He's never seen her before, but he couldn't think of a better way to run into her. He shakes his head and catches up with his friends, momentarily turning behind him to see if he's able to catch a glimpse of the canvas through the crowd of students.

Y/n successfully makes it on time, she flies down into her seat after setting the canvas on the project table.

"Nice to see you all again." Her teacher begins, but Y/n tunes him out. As she relaxes into her chair she can't help but think back to the guy she rushed into, guilt fills her as she realized she never properly said sorry. She can't even recall what the guy looks like.

Later that day she walks around the flower shop, fixing up and watering some of the plants. It's so relaxing, she smiles at each one before moving on to the next. Soon the door swings open to a rowdy group of boys, all of them well over 6'0 as they leer over the shelves of flowers. She catches a bit of their conversation, "What do you think she would like? I know I fucked up, flowers will help, trust me. Girls eat that shit up." She rolls her eyes at that, continuing to care for the various flowers.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes catch her, they continue to lock onto her, even when she disappears into the backroom.

The boys ring the bell on the desk, a little too much and a little too rough. She licks her teeth in annoyance as she steps out to the checkout counter. There's about 4 of them and she'd rather be buried alive than have to talk to them. It's unbelievably intimidating as they stare at her while she's checking out the bouquet of flowers they settled on.

"That'll be $15.99." She mutters, looking up and making eye contact with one of them. His eyes are intense, but not in the same way as the others. She feels hooked, almost like she was lured into a trap. She gulps quietly before looking back down, putting away the money, and offering them change.

"Have a nice day and come again." She says, the last part coming out as they stare at each other once more. They only look away after the door opens and closes again. She's not sure if he looks back at her because she turns and zips into the backroom.

Friday, finally. She doesn't have school today, she only works. Her shift doesn't start until 4.

So, until then, she sits and does nothing. It's wonderful, she adores laying on her couch with her cats. Today was a bit different though, the stranger's eyes appeared in her head at every turning corner. It brought along a wave of goosebumps and quick heartbeats. Y/n has no idea why she's so drawn to him, but she is and it has completely blindsided her.

"Alright guys, I'll be home soon enough." Is said to her cats, more for herself honestly. Her shift went per usual, the people were back to being polite, no rowdy men who are incredibly enticing.

The next day, though, was unusual.

The bells she adores chime and ring as she enters the shop, checking in and greeting Marleen, the store owner. "Anything interesting happen recently?" Y/n asks, trying to make conversation as she gets out the watering can for the flowers. Marleen walks behind the cash register as she thinks, "Kind of, a man came in here and walked around for a little bit the other day, didn't buy anything, and then sat outside on the bench for another 10 minutes before leaving."

Y/n furrows her eyebrows, "That's strange." The conversation ends there as she goes to the back of the green house outside and fills up the can, dragging it back and watering the flowers.

An hour or two goes by before a few people come in, she's snipping some of the leaves as one of them gets her attention. The bell chimes once more behind her but she doesn't look. "Can I help you?" She asks, turning towards the man with a smile on her face. "Yes, would you happen to know anything about taking care of plants?"

She smiles brighter at that, "I do, whats the problem?"

"Well, my cactus is starting to turn a darker green or black color at the bottom and it's becoming softer. I'm not sure what to do." The man says, nibbling his lip. Y/n nods before asking, "How often do you water it per week?"

The man raises his eyebrows, "I water it everyday, is that bad?"

She hums, "There's your issue, root rot. Since it's the spring you only need to water it about every 10 days, that should clear it up. If the rot is more severe you might need to repot and re-soil it."

"I see, thank you so much!" She smiles as they part ways, she goes back to snipping the last of the leaves before retreating back to the backroom to drop off the scissors and then to the counter, waiting for anyone to check out. She spaces out for a second before noticing someone walking up to the front of the counter.

"Hello, did you find everything okay?" She spews off automatically before looking up, seeing it's the man from the other day. Not the loud, obnoxious one, the one with the intense blue eyes.

He softly smiles, "I did." His voice is deep, but inviting and easy to listen to. She grabs the small potted succulent he placed onto the counter before grabbing the scanner and scanning the bottom. She catches his outfit, a black baggy t-shirt and acid-wash black jeans. The simpleness only added to his overall appeal.

"You sure know a lot about plants." He starts, smiling at her. "You must have a lot at home."

She laughs before telling him the price, "I don't actually, I have cats so y'know." She smiles while the man swipes his card, "It'll ask you if you want to add a tip and then you can sign." She says, regarding the card reader. He nods before tapping it a few times and dragging his finger along the screen.

"You look like the type to have cats." He says as he puts his card away, "Is that bad?" Y/n lightly teases. He shakes his head no, "Not at all, it's cute."He says, momentarily reading her name tag. "I'll be sure to come back and ask you for advice if anything happens ." Her heart practically stops in her chest as she laughs, "I'll be expecting you, have a nice day."

"You too, Y/n."

She swallows, watching him leave. "Oh my god." She whispers, she could fill out a diary about him and they only just met. So, thats exactly what she does.

When she returns home, she makes a B-line for the new pocket-sized sketchbook she recently bought. She flips past the drawings of flowers and settles on an empty page. Getting out a pencil and drawing the one thing she remembers the most, his eyes. The intensity of them, his brow bone, she makes sure she incorporates the way they make her feel as well. She even busts out her colored pencils for the blue of his irises.

She would feel embarrassed if she didn't feel a physical feeling before drawing his eyes, her fingers tingle as she draws them, again and again. They stain page after page, some colored, some not. But they all make her feel the same way. When she deems it out of her system for the time being, she checks her clock, stunned to see it was way past 12:00.

But that's okay, the shop isn't open on Sundays.

Her dreams that night were surreal, she fell into his eyes, literally, like they were a hurricane, they swirled her further and further into him. She drowned in his eyes and wouldn’t mind if she did in real life too. When she awakes, there's a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. That day she tries her best to get into her homework and not the alluring customer from her job. At one point she spaces off and doodles along the sides of her psychology homework, it lasts a few moments before she realized what she drew. The same pair of eyes that have been tormenting her, stare back from her homework.

"I'm going crazy." She mumbles, laying her head on the table. Y/n picks herself up after a minute or so. Scribbling down the answer to the last few problems, she throws the paper in her folder and sits down on her couch, chewing her thumbnail anxiously. She's not really sure what's going on with her, she doesn't even know his name. His eyes though, the way they stared at her, brought out a feeling like no other. She decides to occupy herself with tv until she goes to bed, she has art class tomorrow and is well aware of the homework her teacher assigns on Mondays.

—

Pulling into her parking space, she makes a mental note on the art supplies she has to buy. The faint thought of taking her drawings of him to the next level startle her. Is this creepy? She hopes not. It's truly addicting to think about him.

"Happy Monday, everyone. As you're probably expecting, I have an assignment for you." Sighs are heard through the class as he keeps going, "Next Monday you will turn in a painting on something that moves you. Doesn't matter what, but make it have meaning." He finishes. Y/n thinks for a moment about what she'd make, she can feel it at the back of her mind though. She doesn't have to really think that hard about it.

Her job was quiet, only two people came in during the 3 hours she's been there. Her shift ends in 10 minutes and she's excited to pick up some new art supplies, creativity is fresh on her mind, it has the tips of her fingers tingle. So much so, she grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and gets to practicing the same pair of eyes she's come to perfect.

The bells chime and she lets out a "Welcome in." As she usually does. She doesn't look at the door as she shades in the pupil of the eye, she can already see his likeliness shining through the paper. She continues adding details to his eyebrows as she senses something.

"Wow, that's amazing." A deep voice says from over her shoulder. Y/n jumps about 6 feet in the air and just barely keeps in her squeal of terror. He stands back and chuckles, "Didn't mean to scare you, you okay?" He asks, putting a comforting hand on her back.

"Oh yea, I'm fine. And thank you." She tries her best to seem not panicky and caught red handed.

"Can I see it?" He asks her, nodding towards the pad of paper. Okay, now it's time to panic. She can't say no, that would be off putting. Maybe he won't notice the resemblance? She inhales, "Sure, here." She scoots over the paper to him. Her heart stutters in her chest and her palms grow clammy the longer he stares at it.

"These seem familiar." He pauses, she could honestly throw up right now, this can't be happening. "I can't put my finger on it."

She exhales, relief settling over her shoulders as he moves back to the front of the small counter, she shuffles the paper onto the shelf below the register, hoping he doesn't connect any dots.

"I actually came here to ask you something. I'm in botany right now and it's not looking too good for me, I saw how good you are with plants, so I was wondering if you would tutor me? ." Y/n widens her eyes, what did she do in her past life to be rewarded like this?

"Oh, yea, I can do that. When are you free?" She's dreamed about asking him that, different context though, usually it's after he declares his love for her and wants to get married. Tutoring is good too though.

"I'm not working at the moment so any time that works for you probably works for me." He smiles, the motion adds a matching expression to her own face.

"Tomorrow at 6:00?"

"Perfect, does my place work? I'll give you my number." He tells her, waiting eagerly for her to reply.

"I can do that, and here." She grabs her phone from her back pocket. Passing it to him, her bottom lip becomes trapped under her front teeth. Their fingers brush against each other’s as he takes the device from her. Y/n swallows, glancing everywhere but him as he continues. "Here." He passes it back to her, he even put in his name. "Anakin." She states looking up at him. There's a gleam in his eyes, she's not sure what it is but it's accompanied by a teasing smile.

"That's me. Well, I just came here to run that by you, thank you again. I'll talk to you later?" He leans on his hands that are flat on the counter, not so subtly towering over her. The intensity in his eyes comes swooping back as she looks up at him. They trace her very being and it feels like she's forgotten how to breathe.

"I'll make sure to text you after my shift." She smiles at him to the best of her ability, it's hard though, she feels like the only person in the world as he looks at her. It's not a bad feeling, not at all, it makes her feel warm and special.

"I'll be looking forward to it." He let's her know as he walks to the door, turning around to speak to her.

When he leaves and is out of her line of sight, she crumbles. Y/n sits down behind the counter to catch her breath. Her face probably looks like a tomato right now, but she doesn't mind-Y/n has bigger problems. Like having to text him. What should she say?

'Hi' sounds too uninterested.

'Hello' sounds too formal.

'Hey' sounds too much.

She decides she'll cross that bridge when she gets there, she has another hour behind the counter before she can leave.

Turns out, that hour was pure agony. She spaced out the entire time and it STILL felt like years. But, it's bittersweet. As she sits in her car, face lit by the screen of her phone, the empty message bar sits there, she's typed nothing. Y/n knows she's being dramatic, so she huffs and types against her will.

"Hey, this is Y/n."

Then she basically throws her phone into the passenger seat and takes off. The volume of the radio blasts as she grips the steering wheel with a new found urgency.

Just when she opens her door she remembers the supply store. "Goddamnit." She swears she'll go tomorrow.

"Hi, Babies." She greets her cats as they hang around her legs.

It's not very late so she decides to start on her art project. She has a closet full of canvas', so she flips through them. What would make Anakin's eyes pop the most? Y/n doesn't know why she does this to herself, but she picks the biggest one she owns. This time, though, if it rips, she might attack somebody.

She lays the canvas out on her floor, an array of different black and gray pencils sit around her.

She closes her eyes for a moment, visualizing earlier that day. How his eyes pierced her, how he looked down at her. Blindly, she searches for a pencil. The feel of it on her fingers felt amazing, she cracks open her eyes and gets to work. His eyes fill the entire thing in no time and she feels whole. It didn't take long for her to fully sketch out everything, as she gazes at her newest obsession, it sends a jolt of electricity down her back. She breathes before picking up her phone, lungs soon deflating as she sees a text.

'Thought you forgot about me for a second haha'

She spots the time it was sent, 1 hour ago.

She scrambles to open the message app and type actual words.

'I could never and sorry by the way. I was working on my art project, it really cuts me off from the world lol'

He responds a second later;

'You really are a tortured artist lol'

'Here's my address by the way-->'

Y/n knows she'll have to put that into her gps, she's not the best with directions.

'Thanks, I'll be there at 6. Make sure you have the homework you're struggling with and the class textbook'

'I gotchu'

The conversation ends there, she can finally breathe.

School was, well, school, nothing ever happens in her math or english classes. Per usual, her job was the most exciting part of her day that didn't involve Anakin.

So, when she leaves work and heads to the supply store, she picks up the right paint and decides if she needs more brushes or not. As she tosses them in her backseat, she checks the time on her phone, "You have to be kidding me." She grumbles, 5:50. Her fingers quickly punch in his address before she's pulling out of the parking lot. He lives about 15 minutes away and it makes her kind of want to drive off the bridge she's currently driving over.

She speeds the entire way there, thankfully arriving 13 minutes later instead of 15.

In her scrambled state she forgets who's door she's knocking on for a moment, the fear of being late taking over her mind completely. So when Anakin opens the door she grips the wall beside her for support. "Well well, seems you're about 14 minutes late, tsk tsk." He teases as he holds the door open for her.

"I'm so sorry, I had to run to the store to get more paint." She offers, slipping her shoes off.

"Art project you were talking about last night?' Anakin asks, closing the door. Y/n nods, muttering a 'Yea'.

"When am I gonna be able to see it? If it's taking so much of your time it must be good."

Her eyes widen, he wasn't able to decipher the quick sketch at her job, but he would absolutely tell with her painting. She tries to hide her panic, "Maybe if you pass botany." She teases, following him to wherever he's set up at. They come up to his dining room table, papers and textbooks are arranged nicely, it makes her smile.

He takes a seat and pats the one next to him, "C'mon Ms. Artist. Tell me about plants."

She giggles as they begin.

Everything is going well, he's getting questions right and seems fairly knowledgeable on the topic.

"Are you sure you need help? You're doing great, I could hire you at my shop." He gives her a shrug and a laugh, the topic shifting to normal conversation after a little.

"You have two cats?" He asks, body facing her as he leans on an arm.

"Yup, Cherry and Bear, both pieces of my heart." She expects him to laugh at her for saying that, poke fun at her for caring so much for them. But he smiles, "That's cute, I can't lie. Do you have any pictures?" Y/n almost misses his question, her ears still perked up at his compliment.

"Oh, uh, yea." She grabs her phone in her back pocket, swiping through her pictures until she lands on one. Cherry lays on her chest while Bear sits behind her, his head pressed up against the side of her face. It still warms her heart looking at it.

As she shows him the photo, she gauges his reaction. A moment passes. "Wow, that's so cute" He's mumbles, drinking in the photo as she pulls it away, "I know right, they both have such cute faces."

"Oh yea, your cats are cute too."

She laughs at that, trying to not let his obvious flirting ruin her composure right now. As Y/n stares at the photo, the time in the corner of the device catches her attention. "I should go, it's getting late." She says softly, stacking the papers they went over, neatly. She stands and pushes the chair in, until a hand comes up to hers, stopping her from getting too far.

"When are you free again?"

"What, you wanna talk about my cats some more?" She laughs, soon looking up at him again as he stands. The hand on hers doesn't move, only squeezes for a second. A laugh leaves him as he looks away for a moment, a smile present on his face

"No tutoring this time, I was wondering if you just wanted to hang out? No plants."

Her eyebrows raise, "Oh, seriously?"

"If you don't want to thats okay-"

"No!..no, I, that would be nice." She stutters out, swallowing. The hand on hers maneuvers so they're hands are interlocked. She would've peaked down if not for the way he was looking at her. It's like a switch for him honestly, the intensity in his eyes flood back and she has to remind herself to stand correctly.

Anakin sucks in his bottom lip as he stares at her face, soon settling on her lips. He takes the first step, backing her into his table. Their fingers split apart as he leans his hands on the edges of the furniture, blocking her in. "I honestly can't get enough of you, each time I see you it's not enough." He whispers against her parted lips, his right hand coming up to cradle her waist.

"Anakin." She breathes heavily.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, lips brushing against hers.

Y/n gulps, nodding as she gazes at his eyes then lips.

He doesn't wait a second before connecting with her skin, gently, lightly. The kiss progresses, the last hand on the table drifts to the base of her neck, loosely gripping the skin. Y/n seriously can't get over how big he is, he's so broad and tall. She feels like he could swallow her up with ease and it has her knees weakening.

They eventually drift apart, lingering near each other until he backs up and lets her out of his cage.

"Here." He mumbles, grabbing her hand and leading her to where her shoes sat. She slips them on without tying them.

"Text me when you get home?" Anakin asks, leaning his hand against his door frame as she stands on his porch. A soft chuckle escapes her, "Sure." Before she goes, he leans in, placing a hand on her cheek and leaving a sizzling goodbye kiss on her lips.

"Bye."

After letting him know she got home safe, she pretty much passed out, she's never been through so much in such a short period of time.

She wakes up to a few texts, and each and everyone of them drive her teeth deeper into her, poor, bottom lip.

'Good morning'

"I had a lot of fun last night'

'What are your classes today?'

Y/n composes herself as best she can before replying.

'Good morning! I had a lot of fun too, more than I've had in awhile'

"And I have two classes, psych and geometry’

The bubbles appear and she turns off her phone, closing her eyes and squealing.

'Do you wanna meet up sometime this week? if you're busy thats okay i totally get it'

She giggles at his rambling.

'I'd love to see you, is Friday okay?'

'Friday's great, wanna grab lunch? I'll pick you up'

"Sounds fun, see you then<3'

Was the heart too much? She doesn't know, it felt right in the moment. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if this was another one of her dreams, they're a little too convincing for her liking.

To say the week went slowly is an understatement. But, she has made good progress on her drawing, the vivid blues she used brought out his eyes incredibly. She traced the dried shadows casted onto the skin of his eyelids with her finger, she knew she was fucked.

Friday rolled around, it weighed on her psyche like a brick. Soon, though, the crippling anticipation would be over.

She scanned herself over in the mirror, "You got this, it's just the dude you're infatuated with who likes you back." Saying it out loud did not help, infact, the need to throw up starting growing. Y/n chugged some water before getting the text.

'I'm outside'

She inhaled and said her goodbyes to her cats, shakily closing the apartment door behind her. From the lobby she could spot a black car parked right in front of the stairs, she hoped it was his. It would be really awkward if she opened it and it wasn’t Anakin. Thankfully, though, it was. "Hey" He greeted, leaning his elbow on the center console, eyeing her closely.

"Where we goin?" Y/n asked, buckling in her seatbelt after she shut the door. He made a thoughtful face before saying the name of a cafe place he wanted to try. Her interested was piqued. The drive there made her giggle, the music he was playing made it very..obvious he was a college student. "What?" He asked, turning to her for a second before watching the road again, a matching smile on his face.

"You listen to fuck boy music." She pressed her hand lightly over her mouth as she laughed harder.

A look of faux offense struck his face as he let out an incredulous scoff. "Fuck boy music?" His astounded voice made the situation all the more funny, her stomach even started hurting from laughing so much. "Wow.." He murmured, chuckling some more. He bit his lip and shook his head. After that it was much easier to talk to him, he was easy to converse with surprisingly.

"What drink did you get?” He asks, taking a bite from his bagel. “An iced matcha latte with a shot of vanilla and vanilla sweet cold foam.”

He blinks at her, “Bless you.”

She laughs before taking another sip of her drink, a lock of her hair loosens from behind her ear and hangs in front of her eye. Anakin doesn’t waste a second before his hand is coming up to loop it back in place.

Y/n raises her eyebrows at his eagerness, "What? Couldn't have anything blocking that face of yours." The drink coming up her straw slowly goes back down as she freezes. A blush she hopes isn't as bad as she thinks it is, takes over her face and ears. She's really not used to a guy being this way with her. Anakin watches her, amused, he loves the way she reacts to his advances.

"What time is it? My shift starts at 4." She remembers, playing with her straw.

"2:04."

"I got time, what do you wanna do?" She wonders as he stands up and grabs the paper his bagel came with, throwing it away as they walk out. "Good question, do you wanna go back to your place?" It's an innocent enough question but she raises her eyebrows anyway, teasing him.

"Oh don't give me that look." He smiles, putting an arm around her shoulders. Leaning into her ear he says lowly, "Don't tell me you're already thinking dirty thoughts. You're so cute." His words paired with his tone, the proximity, his arm, and the intoxicating way his lips and breath brush against her ears are too much for her. "Ladies first." He says, back to his smiley self as he opens the passenger door for her.

The way back could be both worse and better at the same time. He rests a hand on her clothed thigh, he doesn't move it, but it's there, and she's acutely aware of it. It singes her skin even through her jeans. Y/n swears he's out for blood right now, she can feel her heart and it's not looking good.

As she unlocks her apartment door, she wouldn't be surprised if she just dropped dead right there.

Her cats, like always, meet her at the door, tails flicking, and cute meows spewing at random moments. Anakin's in awe as he crouches down, letting the animals smell his hands. "They're so cute."

She giggles at his expression, hanging up her purse.

Her cats warm up to him pretty fast, Bear flips over, his furry stomach on display for them both. Anakin gets his cat fix before moving on to her living room. "Very cozy, Ms. Tortured Artist." He jokes, taking a seat on the couch. Y/n laughs, finding the remote, "Oh, please. I swear everyone thinks I'm such an open book."

"That's probably because you are." He smiles, leaning back and manspreading.

"Okay then, guess something about me." She challenges, forgetting the remote to turn and face his smug expression. "Hmm." He looks up at her ceiling in thought before making an 'o' shape with his mouth, "I bet your room is either beige or pink, no in between." Her mouth opens a bit, he actually got it right. Her bedsheets are pink, maybe she is an open book.

"Well, fuck. You got me, it's pink." She laughs, shrugging.

"Of course it is, can I see it? I don't see too many adults with pink rooms." He plays it off, acting like he's completely innocent in this. Y/n nods, standing up to venture down the hallway. She creeks the door open, her lips pursed as she showed him the pink room he completely guessed right on.

"Wow, cute room. I bet you bring all the guys here, hm?" He teases, sitting on the edge of her bed, he pats the space next to him. "You're an ass." Y/n mumbles, sitting next to him. He leans over a bit, "I might be, do you have a problem with that?' He leans in more, scooting over even. He's close again like he was at his house that day.

She shakes her head, her spine tingling at the sensation of his hand wandering to her thigh. It caresses it, almost luring her she feels like. "Good." Is the last thing she hears before he kisses her again. They both lose themselves in the intimate act, need coming from both sides. It gets heavy quickly, a hand is placed around her back, pulling them closer together, the hand on her thigh has migrated to her ass.

Crash!

Anakin was honestly just going to power through it, the feel of her so eager to touch him sent him spiraling. But, of course, she pulls away.

"Give me one moment, okay?" Y/n pants against his lips, an apologetic smile already on her face. He nods, smacking her ass when she gets up. He closes his eyes and breathes, later opening them to glance around her room. It makes him feel something as he takes in the cutesy stuff around him, and that something shoots down to his jeans as they tighten ever so slightly. Stuffed animals littered her pink bed, her desk next to it had cute little stationary sets, random figurines, and a little notebook. He's not sure why it catches his attention but it does, the latch to keep it closed piqued his interest. So, without thinking, he leans for it, swiping it from the table.

The leather rubs against his warm fingertips as he unlatches it, flipping to the first page. "Predictable." He smiles, little sketches of flowers are sprinkled through out it, and the page after it. Just as he gets to the third page she walks in, immediately eyeing her demise in his hands. She snatches it from his hands the second he lays his eyes on, well, his eyes.

"You're so nosy." She laughs it off like she didn't feel her heart lurch in her chest.

"Sorry." He pauses, leaning back to look at her. A new mood swirling through his eyes, new to her at least.

"You really like drawing those eyes, huh?" He smiles, watching as she sits back next to him. "You could say that." She responds, hoping he drops it. He, thankfully, lets go of what he saw, eyeing her on her cute pink bed, the blush on her cheeks, and the timid look on her face. It’s so alluring. “Don't you think you're a little far away?" Anakin asks, ready to tackle her.

"I'm right next to you, our knees are touching."

"Yea, well, I could think of some other things I'd like to be touching other than our knees." He mumbles, loud enough for her to hear. He gazes at her face with an unbreaking stare. Scooting closer, he leans in to graze her ear with his lips.

"Seeing you all shy and blushy on your pretty pink bed really turns me on, if I'm being honest." His voice an octave lower. A moment later he stands up, a teasing smile on his face. "It's 3:10, you should get ready for work." Y/n looks at him with huge eyes, her fists still clenching the sheets under her. She nods, eyes going everywhere before landing on her lap—her mind trying to rationalize what just happened.

"Oh, right." Need has settled in her stomach, it swirls inside her as she walks past him to her closet. Her work uniform was neatly hung up like usual.

"Wow, do I get a show?" Anakin asks, amused as he takes a seat back on her bed. Y/n playfully scoffs, laying her clothes on her bed before taking his hand and guiding him through her house. "Are you kicking me out, Cutie? I thought we had something special." He jokes, putting on his shoes. "You're so annoying." She laughs, opening the door when he's done. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Gotta make sure you don't miss me too much."

"Okay, okay, get out." She laughs again, Anakin puts his arms up in faux defense as he laughs along. "I'll see you later, Cutie." He takes ahold of her chin, guiding their lips together. The kiss is definitely more than a peck, it leaves her wanting more as he pulls away. He offers her a wink before leaving down her building's hallway.

After closing the door, she slides down it. Face pressed into her knees. Images of what happened only minutes prior race through her mind, momentarily stunning her. She's never been so attracted to someone in her life. But, in love or not, she must get to work. As she's undressing to change into her uniform, she can't help but to let her mind wander. What if she did 'give him a show'?, she knows the feeling of his hands against her bare skin would be intoxicating. His already sinful mouth would be hair-raising.

Goosebumps graze over her arms and stomach as she slips on her shirt and tugs on her pants. The entire way there and her entire shift was endured with a heavy heart. She was wrapped so tightly around his finger already. The vulnerability of it all was scary though, she fell so hard and so fast. Yet, she didn't worry too much about it.

That night she lay awake. Skimming her fingers over her lips, replaying the kisses he's shared with her. A warm feeling fills her chest and abdomen as she closes her eyes. Pressing her face into the pillow as she smiles.

—

“Hey, listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to my game next weekend.” Anakin says, he called her only a moment ago and, obviously, she picked up pretty fast.

“You play sports?” It really wasn’t that surprising, whenever he wore short sleeves his biceps would strain against the material, she could only imagine what the rest of him looked like.

“Yea, I play football. I’d love if you came, seeing you there would be great.”

“Sounds fun, I haven’t gone to a football game since I was in high school.” She murmurs into the phone, sitting cross-cross on her floor alongside her painting.

“Well, then you probably don’t know that you’ll need to wear a cheer costume, preferably a size smaller or two.” He teases, jokingly trying to convince her. A laugh comes from her and he can picture her smile.

“Is that so? I’m not sure either of us would enjoy my ass hanging out infront of the entire school.” She chuckles, spinning her brush in the jar of water next to her, soon drying it off on a rag.

“You’re right, you should cheer me on in a more..secluded place, like my bedroom.”

“You’re too much, Anakin.” She pauses for a moment, voice becoming softer as she continues. “I’ll be there, text me what time and stuff, okay?” The man on the other end smiles, “Of course, also. I don’t have a picture of you for your contact, could you send me that one you took of you and your cats you showed me the other day?”

Her eyebrows raise, he was oddly specific. “Sure, why that one specifically?” She wonders aloud, dipping her brush into some of the paint lightly.

“I love that picture of you, I told you I thought you were cute in it.” His deep chuckle has her hand momentarily stalling.

“I thought you were just being horny, if I’m being honest.” She confesses, breathy laugh escaping her.

“Me? Horny? Absolutely not.” Anakin teases, sitting up in his bed. “I will say though, could you blame me? You do something to me, Y/n. It’s difficult not touching you at all times.” He confesses, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

“What, do you like me or something?” She could only think of a limited amount of responses. The topic of sex and all things related stunned her a bit, she wasn’t a virgin but that didn’t mean she was used to his advances or forwardness. She heard his low laugh from the line and laid her brush on the rag for the time being.

“You have no idea, it’s honestly a miracle we’ve made it this far. We haven’t even had sex yet and you’re still keeping up with me. It means a lot.” The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.

“Does that not usually happen?” She wonders if it’s too much to ask, but she’s curious. He sighs before answering.

“I don’t have the best..track record with relationships. I feel like sometimes all people boil me down to is sex, so, it’s refreshing that we haven’t done anything yet and you still wanna hang out with me.” His answer honestly made her wanna cry, she couldn’t imagine being used in such a way—multiple times.

"I'm so sorry. If it means anything, that's probably the last thing I'd ever do. I know I don't show my feelings much...but I really like you. It kinda scares me honestly." She held her breath at the confession, scared of what he'll reply with.

"Yea? You like me? What do you like about me exactly?" And there he was, back to his old teasing self. Y/n laughs loudly at his sudden change in tone.

"Do you actually want a list?" She smiles, absentmindedly grabbing her brush and twirling it in the dark-colored water.

"Oh absolutely, lay it on me, Cutie."

"Hmm, well, I really like how forward you are. You saying you'd like to see me and stuff, the guys I've dated in the past tried to be all cool and anti-feelings. It's nice knowing what you're thinking."

"How could I ever hide how I feel about you?" He sighed, running a hand through his sandy curls.

"Plus, it really helps that you're sexy." She had to say it, it had to be known. It was the truth, she couldn't be blamed. Anakin snorts at that.

"You're so cute, I just wanna pinch your cheeks." He teases, goofy smile on his face.

The call, unfortunately, ends a little after that. She has one day to finish the painting, it only needed some final touches so she was happy tomorrow was Sunday.

Said day went nicely. She finished the painting completely and couldn't be happier with it. She honestly doesn't know how she did it but she truly encompassed Anakin onto the canvas. Looking at it brought a warm feeling to her body, it swam from her heart, to her stomach, and to her limbs.

"Alright, there are two piles. One is the normal turn in pile, and the other is the turn in pile for the University’s art show next Friday night. Now, I will warn you, not everyone who enters will be in the show. We are looking for the best the class has to offer, if you don't get picked that's okay. There will always be more."

Y/n thinks heavily about her decision, she can't possibly pass up an opportunity like this. So, she breathes and adds it to the art show pile. She tries her best to not dwell on it too much, she knows if she overthinks she'll end up panicking and changing her decision. The teacher tells them their homework for the week, but it's nothing to fret over. Because this project was so big he only asked for some simple sketches and drawings.

By the time she makes it out of class her phone pings, an email. Apparently, her teacher for her last class of the day is sick so class is cancelled. She shrugs mentally and decides to head to the library. Her shift doesn't start for a hot minute and she could get some homework done.

She adores the library, especially this one table. It's more towards the back, it's cut off by thick shelves, little to no distraction. It's perfect for homework.

As she walks, she feels her shoulders lift. The painting hanging over her head was done. The obsession with Anakin's eyes painted into reality, it was done. A small smiles lifts her lips as she opens the door to the building the library is located in. The shelves blur together as she walks passed them, they tower over her as usual. The place is fairly empty, aside from one or two students.

She gets closer to the table and crosses her fingers, hoping it's empty. Y/n sighs in relief as she sees it vacant. Sitting in her usual seat, she sets down her backpack and drags out her computer.

Unexpectedly, her phone pings again. This time it isn't an email.

'what class are you in rn?'

Y/n smiles, giddly typing a reply.

'class was cancelled, im doing some homework in the library. it's so quiet in here it’s great’

She leaves it at that, not expecting anything to come from it. So, she plugs in her headphones and shuffles her playlist. Beginning to type her homework. Her head bops to the beat until a pair of hands squeeze her shoulders. It makes her jump, she's honestly not sure if she made a sound or not, her music was a little too loud. She tugs out the earplugs, knowing the culprit already.

"Anakin, you scared me." She breathes, smile on her face as she places a hand on her chest.

"That was kinda the point." He teases, sitting in the seat beside her. "Whatchya working on?"

"My English essay, do you not have a class right now?"

"Technically, it's not a mandatory day. Plus, I'd rather be here with you." He flirts, grabbing her hand that rests on the table. "I missed you."

She can't take her eyes off of him as he tells her that. "I missed you too." Soon, he's nodding at her headphones. "What're you listening to?"

"Oh, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, it's one of my favorite songs." She passes him one of the earbuds and restarts it.

As she continues typing her essay, they're both quiet, listening to the love song. Anakin's eyes trail up her arm, to her concentrated face, his eyes soften as he takes her in. The song adding a loving theme song to what he was feeling. She was so close to him, a mere few inches. His hand reaches out to graze her arm, skin free due to the short sleeved shirt she was wearing. It brought comfort to him that he could reach out and know she was there.

Y/n's eyes flick to him at the touch, meeting his gaze quickly.

It's silent between them, the look he's giving her would've probably had her in the hospital a week ago. She's able to keep looking at him now, even through his intense stare. Electricity crackles in the air around them, nothing else matters. Nothing else could matter.

His hand doesn't leave her upper arm as he leans in, romantically connecting their lips. The chorus starts up once again, it's fuel for the desire being poured from them. They push together harder, wanting to be one. The only reason they split is for air. But, the need for closeness is still alive and well. So, he scoots closer, wrapping her in a hug. He mumbles something in her hair, but she doesn’t hear it. The sound of their breathing and heartbeats is the only thing heard after that until Y/n speaks up.

"Do you wanna go to an art show next Friday night with me?" Her voice is quiet, almost like he'd run away if she was too loud.

Pulling away enough to look into her eyes, he answers. "Of course, I'd go anywhere with you."

That week they met up a few times, sometimes at school, and sometimes at random restaurants for a date. Anakin was sure he was losing his mind, he's never felt such a way for someone. He was falling for her, very hard and very fast.

After their meet up at the library, Y/n had an idea. Thinking back to when they were on the phone, what if she did wear a cheer costume. Obviously not to the game, but they could celebrate afterward. She wanted to be closer to him, needed the feeling of him. She knew Anakin wanted that too, so she was ready to make it memorable. She orders the skimpy costume off of Amazon and checks that it'll be there before Friday night.

So, when Friday morning rolls around and it ends up in her mailbox she's more than ready for what's to come.

"You're picking me up right?" She asks over the phone, the device is on speaker as she gets undressed, ready to put on the costume under her normal clothing.

"Yea..why do you sound so far away?"

"Oh, sorry. You're on speaker, I'm changing right now." It's not her intention but she'll know Anakin'll get a kick out of that.

"Are you now?"

Then, an incredibly erotic idea falls into her head. As she speaks to Anakin she snaps a picture of herself, she's not wearing anything but the photo stops right above her breasts. They were still very noticeable so she could tease him perfectly. A pout is settled on her face as her hair frames the seductive expression. She sends it and keeps talking like nothing nefarious is happening behind the scenes.

When he stops talking she does too, a smirk making its way onto her face. "Something wrong, Ani?" She's never used the nickname before, but it feels like the right moment to start.

"Fuck, Y/n. You're gonna kill me. I want you so fucking bad, oh my god." His voice is deep and strained.

She ignores the way her body reacts to that as she replies, "Whe are you gonna be here? I miss you."

"Mm, I miss you too, I'll be there in an hour. Be ready for me, yea?” The double meaning of his words tingles up her spine.

She checks herself over in the mirror, the small two piece barely covered anything. Her cleavage couldn't be on more of a display, especially since she paired it with her favorite push-up bra. The small, red, pleated skirt didn't even cover half of her ass, and she paired that with a matching lace thong.

The text that he was waiting for her outside came sooner than she expected so she threw on some baggy clothes and grabbed her things. Making her way to him.

Shocking to nobody, once she sat in his passenger seat he was on her. Hand on her neck as he pressed a searing kiss on her welcoming lips. It would've gone on longer if she didn't remind him of where they were going.

"You're so lucky my game saved you, I don't think I could've held myself back after that photo you sent." He threatened, pulling out of the parking lot. "Don't threaten me with a good time." She replies, taking his free arm into both of hers. She practically hugged him the entire way there.

"You wait in the stands for me, okay? I'll be looking for you." Anakin said, closing the gap between them again.

"Good luck."

As she sat on the lowest bench of the stand, a chill ran up her spine at the thought of what was going to happen once the game was over. The feeling tripled as she spotted him. The look on his face causing a blush to grow on her cheeks.

The game started soon after that, she never really paid attention to sports, so she didn't really know what was going on. She knew enough to get her by, though. She watched him closely, watched as he bulldozed the opposing players. He was one of the tallest on the team so he stood out well. It was unbelievably hot, she couldn't deny the way her thighs clenched together. She was more than ready for the game to be over.

During one of the breaks, he jogs up to the fence next to the stairs of the stands. Calling her over with a nod and a smile. His helmet hung on one of his fingers as he waited for her. "You're doing great." She tells him, smiling proudly.

"It's all because of you, my love." He lightly pants, leaning over the fence to kiss her. Though he tastes like sweat, she didn't mind. The opposite actually, it turned her on even more. And when they split he could see the gleam in her eyes. "As soon as I win this thing we can get outta here, how does that sound?" He moved his damp curls from his face as he spoke, it added to his undeniable sex appeal.

"Sounds good, I'll wait at the car for you afterward." Her hand reaches out to rub at his sticky biceps.

He nods before giving her one last kiss and running back to the field. She gulps, hands sweaty as she sits back down. No doubt having some eyes on her after all that.

She watches him again, this time he's carrying the ball to the other side of the field. The final touchdown of the night. He wins for their team and everyone there loses their mind. Anakin's team surges towards him in awe, she could hardly hear her own thoughts as everyone around her screams and yells. She's immensely proud of him , the need to congratulate him was strong at that point. She realizes though, with everyone jumping around her, she can't see the field. So, she stands on the bench and searches for him. A large smile on her face as she spots him. Watching him so happy made her heart flutter.

As she watches the teams leave the field she clambers down from the bench and makes a B-line for his car. She isn't waiting for long as he tries his best to get through the crowd. The second they meet he's engulfing her smaller frame, her arms wrap around his neck as they kiss probably for the 20th time that day. He's sweaty under the clothes he changed back into, it only makes her wanna take them off.

Anakin presses her back into his car's door, momentarily forgetting where they are. Y/n taps his shoulder as the sound of people talking get closer.

"You did amazing, I'm so proud of you." She praises, pressing another kiss on him.

"All thanks to you, my good luck charm. Do you wanna head outta here?" He smiles, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. She nods before slipping out from under him and getting in the passenger side, telling him to drive to her place. The ride there was pure tension, she played with his calloused hands and praised him more as they neared closer and closer to her building. Neither of them addressed the very obvious pent-up sexual tension suffocating them. Opting for letting it grow--thrive. It would pay off in a matter of time.

Her shutting the apartment door behind her signaled for Anakin to throw his self-control out of the window. He walked her backward with tight hands on her waist as they made out through her apartment, trying to get to her bedroom. Once there, he plants a firm hand on her chest and pushes her down to her bed. The sight of her looking up at him, waiting for him to please her caused more blood to navigate south within him.

“Ever since I saw your cute little room I wanted to do this. Wanted to take you in the most disgusting way possible, see you sob against your pink sheets, all because of me.” He confessed, lowering himself to hover over her.

She couldn’t deny the way that made her feel, all of her ex’s made her feel like a dumb child when they saw her room. So she felt her panties dampen and her thighs rub together at his words. Anakin smirks when he notices the movement. “You like that, Cutie? You like when I talk to you like that?” He leans in to kiss her, cutting off her answer. His skillful tongue licks into her mouth, practically going down her throat the harder he becomes. The kiss is ended with a harsh suck to her tongue.

The man above her continues his assault across her jawline and below her ear, where he begins to get messy with his kisses. He sucks and nibbles all the way down to her collarbones, where he deems she’s wearing too much clothing.

“Take off your shirt for me, Cutie.”

This is it, she gulps as she takes hold of the hem of her shirt and drags it off—showing off the top half of her skimpy cheer costume. He loudly sucks in a breath before pushing her chest back down to the bed and forcefully taking off her pants himself. He throbs in his jeans at seeing the entirety of what she’s wearing.

“What’s all this, baby?” He bites his lip, his hands roaming her exposed skin. A seductive grin takes ahold of his lips as he drinks her in.

“You said you needed a cheerleader, didn’t you?”

“Fuck.” He mumbles, gripping her knees to spread her legs accordingly. Anakin eyes the thong she’s wearing and makes a mental note to stuff them in his pant’s pocket when he gets them off of her. He slots himself in between her welcoming thighs, erection pressing hotly against her clothed cunt. The kisses that were stopped along her collarbones moments ago start up again, now more urgent.

“God, you’re so sexy. All mine too. My little cheerleader.” He breaths against her, making his way down to her cleavage. Nips and sucks are felt at the exposed skin of her breasts, her hips press upwards at that, wanting to feel him. The material of her shirt is pushed up over her bra, then hands snake up her spine to unclasp that too. She shimmies down the straps so he can throw the item behind him.

“I knew you’d have perfect tits.”

He doesn’t waste a second to lick around one of her nipples, taking it in his mouth after a second. A hand gropes the breast that isn’t in his mouth and the other is splayed over the side of her thigh, moving up to grab as much of her ass as it can.

“Anakin.” She moans, arching her back slightly. Her thighs clamp down around his waist, it feeds into the desire that’s beginning to take over his mind. He ruts his hips into her, both of them moaning at the contact. The smell of her arousal floats between both of them, it has him groaning before harshly thrusting against her. “Smell so good, gotta have a taste.” He pulls away, lowering to his knees before she stops him.

“Wait, Anakin. I can’t wait any longer, please—please, fuck me.”

His forehead meets her knee, his teeth pierce his lower lip as he shutters out a breath. “My little cheerleader is such a slut for me already, hm?”

The shirt that clung to his body is taken off, in the sexiest way possible, as well as his pants. Soon, he’s left in his boxers, his very obvious erection strains against the fabric. “Come here.” He grabs her waist as he slides onto the sheets, maneuvering her just the way he wants until she’s propped up on him. His back lays against her pillows as he slips her panties to the side, her leaking cunt pressed deliciously against his clothed cock.

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, is that all for me, Cutie?”

She tries to pay attention to him speak, but the sight of him, abs all sweaty below her, causes her brain to short circuit. “Don’t tell me you’re already all dumb for me.” He hotly stares at her, hand reaching out to grab her chin, making sure she’s looking him in the eye. “I asked you a question.”

She stares with wider hazy eyes, “It’s all for you, Ani. Need you so bad.” She whines, panting already.

He smirks at her state, loving the way she reacts to him. “Show me then, Cutie. Rub your wet little pussy on my cock and I might just fuck you with it.” His eyes are back to the intense ones she knows so well. But this time, he can visibly see how bad they affect her. Taking in a deep breath, she places her shaky hands on his abs before moving her hips. A gasp is heard pretty quickly due to how hard he is, she wonders if it hurts at all.

Weirdly, he finds it that much hotter how her skirt covers where they meet.

“There you go, keep going.” He praises, watching her with lidded eyes. Her head hangs low as she grinds a little harder.

“Fuck.” He rasps, moving his hands to her hips.

Her clit catches his head and ridges a few times and it’s enough to pull a pornographic moan from her. They’re full-on dry humping now, she can even see a wet patch start to grow on his briefs when she pulls up her skirt, it makes him salivate. “I can’t wait any longer.” He groans out, stopping her movements. A hand on her waist keeps her in place as he pushes down his briefs a few inches to grip a hand around himself. Pearls of pre cum ooze down his head and it has her gulping.

“Ready, Cutie?”

Y/n nods, tossing her head back as Anakin runs his cock through her folds before pressing into her. She’s so wet that in one push he’s filled her to the brim. “Anakin.” She weakly moans out, leaning her body forward to push him impossibly deeper inside her.

“Shit, you’re so tight and wet for me. Just like I knew you’d be.”

“You’ve thought of this before?” She asks, knowing the answer. She just wants to hear his dirty words some more. “Of course, I have. Jerked off to the idea of this cute little pussy so many times. You’re better than I imagined.” Her lips quiver at that, it propels her into raising her hips and slamming them down as fast as she’s able to at that moment. The stretch of him is making her delirious, an insatiable hunger taking over her.

“Just like that, Cutie. Doing so good for me.” The praise has her clenching around him. She tries her best to keep a good pace but it’s proving to be difficult, her thighs burn as her body forces her to slow down. The man under her takes notice and grips her waist, sitting up and laying her down beneath him.

He throbs inside of her impatiently, so he grabs her thighs and pushes them closer to her chest, both of them moan at the new angle. The way he’s now kissing her cervix has her turn to pure putty in his hands. “There you go, you’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you? Have I fucked you stupid?” He calls out, eyeing the way she reacts. A smirk finds it’s way on his face as she tries to answer but fails. The grip he has on her thighs tightens as he feels her clench, the fluttering doesn’t stop so he guesses she's close.

Her hand tip toes down to her clit to messily rub, she doesn’t care how or how fast, she just needs the stimulation.

“M’ gonna come.” She moans, tears welling in her eyes at his harsh pace and the words falling from his lips.

“Do it, Slut, come.” He growls, grinding his hips into hers. Anakin watches her face closely as she finishes around him, then he backs up to peak down at the way his cock fills her up to the brim.

“There you go.”

Y/n lazily smiles as he slows down to a stop.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, yet.” He tells her, pulling out to flip her over onto her stomach. His strong hands pull her ass up, pushing her legs apart with his knee. “You look so good like this, pussy ready for me.” His voice is low and gravelly, it has her dripping.

—

The next morning she awoke to the unusual smell of bacon. A hand splays out on the spot next to her, it’s cold. Cracking open an eye, she notices the bed is empty. “Anakin?” Her groggy voice asks to the open air. There’s no response so she pushes herself to her feet, noticing she’s in her panties and what looks like Anakin’s shirt.

Traversing through her apartment, she spots the kitchen and rubs her eyes. Anakin’s tussled hair and toned back was the first thing she saw, “Anakin?”

His ears perk up. Turning around, he smiles, “Good morning, about time you woke up. I was just about to come get you.” He walks over to her, settling his hands on her hips and placing a loving kiss to her cheek. “I made breakfast, go sit down.” He nods to the table. “I didn’t know you were so motherly.” She smiles, sitting down at a chair.

“Just for you.” He murmurs, getting out cups.

Eating breakfast beside him was odd, not in a bad way though. Waking up to him was truly the best feeling. “What time do you work today?” He asks, shoveling the last of his food in his mouth.

“Uhh 4, and tomorrow the shop isn’t open.”

“Oh, so I get you the whole day? I’m honored.” He says as they both get up to put dishes in the sink. Hands on the counter, she turns around to face him. He gladly leans in and traps her between him and the surface, the kiss they shared was sweet, it made her heart swell.

“I should go back to my place to get cleaned up. I’ll miss you.” He punctuates that with a kiss, or two, or three. She giggles in return, teasingly pushing him away as he goes back for more. “When I come back you better be in the same outfit, you look amazing in my clothes.” He leans into her ear to say, playfully nipping at her neck. “Anakin…” She laughs.

—

A few days have passed, Y/n sits at her desk doing her homework as she gets a call. She recognizes that it’s associated with her university. She answers it and her jaw drops. Her painting was accepted into the art show. She springs up from her bed and squeals when the call is over. The first thing she thinks of is telling Anakin, but, maybe it would be better if it was a surprise.

“Anakin it’s a school night.”

“We’re adults, Y/n. We’re not in middle school anymore, plus it’ll be fun.” He tries persuading her. Currently his friends and him are going to see a movie, it’s about 9:00 so Y/n is a little worried. She hums from over the phone in thought, “Fine, is your car even big enough for all of us?” She asks, playing with the strings of her sweat pants.

“I’ll pick you up and we’ll meet them there, don’t worry.” Y/n hums again.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

As he pulls up to her building, he can’t help but be nervous as well. His friends can be a little…intense, and he knows Y/n is the opposite of that. But he really wants his girlfriend and his friends to meet.

“Hey, Beautiful. I missed you.” He smiles, leaning in to leave a peck on her lips.

“I missed you too, what movie are we watching?”

“The new insidious, it looks really good.”

“A scary movie? You should’ve warned me, I’m gonna embarrass myself even more in front of your friends.” Her doe eyes stare in worry at him, causing his heart to squeeze. “Y/n no, I promise it’ll be okay. If it gets too scary I can..distract you. I’m pretty good at that.” He smiles, driving off. Of course, he would say that.

Y/n wipes her clammy hands on her jeans, remembering how the boys were in the flower shop.

Her boyfriend eyes her from his seat, eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, if this is too much for you we can go back. It's up to you." He grabs at her hands, looking her sincerely in the eyes after he parks. "No no, I'll be fine." He smiles at her, giving her a loving kiss before opening his door. The wind whips her hair in her face as she stands, soon hearing the loud chattering of, who she assumes, are his friends. There's about 4 of them, they're already laughing and pushing each other when they reach the two. They do their guy greeting before turning to her. One of them speaks up first, "You must be Y/n, we've heard a lot about you."

"Oh, good things I hope." She nervously smiles, migrating to holding onto Anakin's hand, she grips it like it's her lifeline. The group quickly starts chatting together, Y/n, obviously, the odd one out. The only thing keeping her from running away was Anakin. As they got their tickets and stood in line for snacks, he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "What do you want?" He asks, referring to what snacks she wants.

A thoughtful expression is seen on her face as she looks over the food. "Can I get the gummy worms? Oh and a blue slushee." She says, pointing to it on the menu. The cashier types in the order, asking if that's all. He nods, paying for you both, his friends order right after. "I'll pay you back, how much was it?" She starts digging through her purse for her wallet. "Y/n, you don't have to pay me back." He shakes his head, smiling affectionately at her.

"Dude, I didn't know you were so sappy." One of his friends laughs, of course, they all start laughing at him. Except one, she doesn't know his name but she knows she doesn't like him. The way his eyes undress her makes her feel dirty and exposed. The 3 pounds of drinks, popcorn, and candy they get is dispersed amongst them. Since they are college boys, they pick the seats way at the back of the theater. She doesn't mind too much though, having Anakin with her soothes her nerves.

As she sits down, Anakin sits to her left, and to her dismay, the one friend sits to her right. The tension the guy brings has her scooting closer to her boyfriend.

Sitting through the ads was tough, she couldn't constantly keep talking to Anakin since he was talking to his friends, so she had to sit there, eating the popcorn that sat in Anakin's lap.

The lights dimmed as she reached for him, clasping one of his hands in between both of hers.

During the movie she had the weirdest feeling of being watched, it chilled her more than the cold theater air. Or, maybe not. She didn't realize how cold it was until right now.

"Anakin, I'm gonna get my jacket from your car, can you give me your keys?" She whispers.

He nods, digging in his pocket and giving her them. Carefully, she gets up, avoiding knocking into everyone's legs as she sidesteps through the aisle.

Moments later when she turns around from locking the car again, jacket in hand. She spots Anakin, his friends, and a security guard outside by the doors. Eyebrows furrowing, she gets closer, the security guard then goes inside, leaving the rest of the men. "What happened? Are you okay?" She noticed one of the guys with a busted lip and bloody nose.

"Let's go, Y/n." Her boyfriend says sternly, dragging her back to the car by the hand. "Anakin? You're scaring me."

Once they sat in the car, her body turned towards him, "Anakin." She says again, waiting for an explanation. The man sighs, rubbing his hands over his face before muttering. "I punched Cody." She's not sure who that is, but she guesses it's the one with the bleeding nose and lip. "What? Why? I thought you were friends."

He sighs again, looking over at you. "He was saying some stuff about you, that I won't repeat. I couldn't control myself after that, then we got kicked out." Y/n was stunned, what could've he possibly said about her that made Anakin so blood thirsty? "Oh." She was obviously a little hurt, not by him, but by the friend. She thought she was doing a good job at talking to them.

"Don't let him get you down, though. You mean so much to me, Y/n, More than I can put into words, let's go home." He runs a hand through his hair before reversing out of his parking space, a stern look still on his face.

That night when they got to her house, he changed into the clothes he brought over and clung to her. They were both on their sides facing each other in bed, her head pressed into his chest, and a firm arm was around her waist.

"Y/n."

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

She does as he requested and tipped her head up, locking eyes with him even through the darkness. His hand on her waist drifts up to comb through the hair beside her ear, before resting on her neck to pull her lips to his properly.

"I love you." He breaths against her mouth, kissing her once more.

"You do?" She asks, reaching up to press her hand onto his. Nobody except her parents has told her that before, especially with the pure adoration that Anakin held. "Of course, I do. The first time I ever saw you, you ran me over with your painting. I was hooked from the beginning." He smiles, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

Her eyes widen, "That was you?"

"Yes, and I couldn't be more happy about it." He spoke so close to her lips, they brushed against each other after each word. "I love you too." She responds, initiating the last kiss before they sleep. After that, they broke apart so Anakin could lean his head on top of hers, listening to her breathing slow as she falls asleep.

Getting through her classes was tough, there was only one more day until the art show. Y/n tried her best not to think too much about it, though.

"Here, Cherry. Here, Bear." She calls, putting food into their dishes. As she sits and pets them while they eat, her mind drifts to what Anakin's reaction might be to seeing his own eyes on display. She can only hope it doesn't weird him out, he's her first boyfriend since her Junior year of high school. He even told her he loves her. But, she knew if he did have an adverse reaction to it, she would understand. Her head lay on her knee as she processes all of her emotions at once.

That day at the shop the bell rang, signaling a customer.

"Welcome in..." She trails off. "Anakin, what are you doing here?" Y/n gasps, eyes sparkling. The man smiles while shrugging. "Just looking around, I suppose." She hums, "Let me know if you need any help, okay?" He nods at her words, stepping around an aisle. It doesn't take him too long to pick out what he's looking for.

He places down a singular rose, readying his wallet. "Alright, that'll be $1.25." He hums in return, plucking out 2 one dollar bills. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll miss you." Anakin tells her as she gives him his change. "I'll miss you more, Ani." They cement their words with a kiss and then he leaves, waving at her as he does so.

—

Her hands visibly shake when she steps up to his car, it’s already dark outside so she hopes he can’t see. Y/n decided to wear a nice looking dress, she thought it would be nice since her art is in the show n all. “Wow, you look amazing. If you change your mind and wanna stay home tonight just lemme know.” He jokes.

“Tempting.” She smiles back as they finish greeting each other.

“I gotta grab my jacket from the trunk, one second.” He says as he pops the trunk open. A moment later he’s running back, half of his body is outside the car he leans inside. "For you." The red rose he bought from her in his hand, the smile that erupts onto her face has her cheeks hurting.

“Anakin, you’re so sweet.”

“Whoops sorry, here’s the rest.” She looks at him confused before he moves fully in front of the open door, a large bouquet of roses sit in his hands.

Instead of her usual sweet reply, she stares at him as he sits down in the driver's seat, the roses taking up quite a bit of space. Her eyebrows are furrowed as her mouth is still open in awe. She tries to stop the feeling of tears but it’s no use, they well up in her eyes and begin to drip and trickle down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, Cutie.” His eyes soften at her.

She gains some courage to reach out and grab the flowers, looking down at them with her, now, very wet cheeks. “You really didn’t have to.” She sniffles, wiping her tears and nose with her sleeve. “I wanted to, I love you, Y/n.”

She sniffles once more, “I love you too. Thank you.” Anakin’s not sure whether she’s thanking him for the flowers or his feelings towards her, but it makes him feel good either way. During the ride she decides to put the flowers in the back, the need to hold onto him after that was strong.

“Where are we going first?” They see a bunch of people around the school, not sure where the official entrance is.

She looks around at the outside venue before pointing to the place she wants to start looking around, knowing her piece is the opposite way.

It was unbelievably nice to look around and chat about the art pieces, some are statues, clay, and of course, paintings. Now, the moment she’s been dwelling on. She spots her painting a few feet down. “Wow, these paintings are so pretty.” Y/n says, trying to make it seem like something wasn’t eating her up inside. The natural speed of their walking, and brief stops, finally brought them to her painting. A sign in front of it spells out his name as the name of the piece, and her name as the author is right under it. Anakin’s hand on her back rubs her clothed skin, as it has been on and off for the past hour. His fingers feel like fire through her dress.

Her senses are heightened, the sound of the ground under their feet, the chatting of people around them, and the wind is all very loud. Her heart beat especially.

She doesn’t say anything as they walk in front of her section. “Heh, this looks like the eyes you always draw.” She gulps at his observation, waiting for him to read the sign. In a confused voice, he lets out a “Y/n..?” As he stares at the vivid blue on the canvas and the sign that has his name as the title of the painting, it all hits him at once. She can’t possibly look at him, she’s already having trouble regulating her breathing. But, he grips her and spins her to face him.

“This..is yours?” He pauses, eyes full of emotion. “You were drawing me? All those sketches I saw..were me?” He searches her eyes for something, anything in the moment.

“I’m sorry if you find it creepy-.” She begins explaining herself, but he cuts her off. “Y/n, no. I love it, more than I can express.” He never imagined anyone would do this, would ever take such an interest in him more than his physical abilities and attractiveness.

“I can’t believe it. Come here.” He says, taking her to a less populated area. Once they’re there, he grabs her face gently. His eyebrows are knit together as tears well in his eyes. “Y/n, I, I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Thank you for loving me."

It didn’t very long for them to make their way to her bed once more, this time was different though. She felt it in the air, in the way he pressed loving kisses to the expanse of her skin. The dress she’s wearing is bunched around her hips as he lays in between them, kissing down her thighs.

“Gonna make you feel good, Cutie.”

His nose nudges her clothed cunt, it has her hips stuttering upwards. He smiles as he carefully prods her with his tongue over her panties, soon settling on her clit to suckle lazily. "Anakin." She whines, the teasing becoming too much for her. Her boyfriend smiles before moving up to the waistband, kissing sultry kisses into her skin and the fabric, it ends with him nipping at the clothing and tugging it down her body with just his teeth. She hopes she doesn't go into cardiac arrest because of him.

His large hands grip her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and spreading her wide with two fingers. "Such a pretty pussy for me, Cutie." He mumbles into her as he licks firmly up her slit to her clit. Her back reacts first, then her hands get lost in his hair. She's never been eaten out before, the feeling coupled with the perpetrator being Anakin made her mind fuzzy. He eases his tongue inside of her, licking around before he groans. The vibrations pulling a loud moan from Y/n.

"I knew you'd taste good, so perfect for me."

His praise added a new layer of heat to her face and chest, the dress she was wearing suddenly very hot. Anakin narrowed in on her clit, his finger pulled back the hood so he could suck purely on the bundle of nerves. A choked whine leaves her, her back arches fully at the sensitivity. The liquid fire in her gut spreads like lava as she unexpectedly comes, the moans are stuck in her throat as she processes the euphoria flowing through her. His sucking becomes gentler as he prolongs her orgasm.

"You did so good for me, Baby. God, you drive me crazy. You see what you do to me?" He hotly asks, pushing his jeans down enough to grip his erection through his briefs. An ache settles in her pelvis, the need to be filled becoming almost unbearable. "I need you, Anakin. Feel so empty without you." His eyes close for a second before he fully undresses, soon doing the same to her as she pushes the material of her dress up and over her head. The both of them feeling the effects of the other person.

He pushes in and leans down, catching her lips in a kiss. "I love you, Y/n." She mutters back the sentiments, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the initial stretch of him. The veins that line his shaft are felt through her tight walls, it drives her crazy.

"Fuck, so tight for me." He mumbles, dropping so their bodies are pressed flush against each other. His head rests on her neck as he picks up his pace, rutting into her needly. Light lines of red come to life on his back due to her fingernails, the pressure only drives him further into her. The only other sound besides their mixed moaning and groaning is the squelching from how wet she is, Y/n bites her lip in embarrassment, and Anakin's hips stutter.

"So wet for me, love this pussy so much."

A layer of sweat forms between their bodies as he keeps going, and a hand drifts down between them to rub at her clit. His thumb keeps up with his thrusting, only rubbing faster when she cries out. “Gonna come for me, Cutie?” He breathes heavily, planting deep kisses against her neck and chest.

She nods quickly, clinging onto him. “So close for you.” Her voice is a tad hoarse as she speaks up.

“Let go, need to feel you.”

His plead pushes her off the edge. Her hips do as they please and buck up into him, plunging him deep into her. Fireworks set off behind her closed eyelids and her brain lulls to a stop, letting the overwhelming feeling take over her limbs as they shake. Just as she comes out of it a loud groan sounds from him, “Mm, Baby, where do you want me?”

“In me, please come inside me.”

The idea of coming inside her ends it all for him, dirty thoughts and images run through his mind a mile a minute as he shoves himself as deep as he can go. The warmth of him finishing in her has zaps of electricity shooting up and down her spine.

“You did so good, Y/n.” He pants from above her, leaning down to give her a sweet kiss before he pulls out. The sight after he does is picture-worthy, his come leaks out of her and it almost makes Anakin hard again. A moment passes before he takes his middle and ring finger and pushes the rest back inside of her.

“You’re so pretty with my come leaking out of you, my little tortured artist.”

She chuckles out of breath before he speaks up again.

"I know this probably isn't the right time, but y'know how you helped with my botany homework?"

Her eyebrows draw together curiously, "Yes..why?"

"Well, I actually wasn't failing, I had an A in that class but I just wanted an excuse to talk to you more."

Her eyes grow wide at that, an incredulous smile on her face. "Seriously?"

He shrugs, "It worked, didn't it?"

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #star wars smut #star wars x reader #star wars fanfic #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #darth vader smut #darth vader x reader #darth vader fanfic

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rinawantstosleep · 4 days ago

Text

"I don't like your stupid, white hair."

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does."

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable.

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!"

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made.

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that."

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts.

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious."

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?"

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other?

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour."

"Yes, ma'am."

Cue a tiny gasp.

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?"

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe."

. . .

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Atta girl. Now, you go that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jjk satoru

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straylightdream · 1 year ago

Text

hopelessly devote

featuring: werewolf han jisung x f. reader

synopsis: his life changed unexpectedly and he’s attempting to cope with the inner turmoil he faces as he accepts the beast living inside him.

genre: wolf au, college au, smut, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

warnings: angst, talks about being a werewolf, and explicit sexual content (smut warnings below the cut)

word count: 5.7k

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

an: I’m reworking and old story and starting a connecting series with skz as werewolves. Thank you @therhythmafterthesummer for helping me edit and figure out this story.

warnings: protected sex, fingering, soft dom jisung, mentions of marking and bruising, knotting

It’s a quiet night, but it’s one of those nights where you haven’t been able to fall asleep. You have too much on your mind to actually fall asleep. The sound of your roommate knocking on your bedroom door catches you attention, before it slowly opens.

“Can I come in?”

Rolling over so you’re looking at the door, “yeah.” Jisung stares at you with sad eyes. Patting the bed next to you he joins you

He seems tense as he lies next to you. There’s a worried look that’s painted across his face. Laying on your side you stare at him.

“Jisung what’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh passes his lips as he turns on his side to stare at you. “The full moon is in two days.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. This is only going to be his second full moon and from what he’s told you the first one was very painful. He was a complete mess the following day.

“Has Chan or Changbin mentioned if it will get easier?”

“Chan said as soon as I start changing freely without the full moon it will start to barely hurt,” he doesn’t sound confident at all as he speaks to you.

“Why don’t you try changing without the moon?” You reach out, taking his hand in yours.

“YN, I’m afraid of losing control each time I change,” another heavy sigh passes his lips as he gently squeezes your hand. You’ve been by his side from the moment he got bit. You took him out to the forest the first full moon he changed. You stood by his side as he screamed in pain changing for the first time. You stayed there until he begged you to drive away. His number one fear has always been hurting you.

“There’s so many things I’m not ready for. First I have to learn how to change on command. So that each time I change it doesn’t feel like I’m dying and then I need to figure out how I even get through my first rut.”

Your cheeks burn at the thought of Jisung having to go through a rut. When he first changed Chan and Changbin came over to let him know the ups and downs of his new life. Jisung was so overwhelmed by all the information he started rambling on about it and mentioned how bad his rut will be at first.

“Do you have an idea on what you’re gonna do about your rut?” You aren’t sure why you ask. Maybe it’s because Jisung is your best friend and roommate and you’re just worried about him, or maybe it’s because you have a crush on him and part of you can’t seem to push it away.

“I’m not sure. I might have Chan and Changbin lock me up. They said the first time will be by far the worst and that afterwards I’m just gonna be,” he pauses and looks at you with his cheeks flushed. “I’m just going to be pretty horny.” He swallows loudly and stares at you awkwardly, “Chan said I’m just gonna be on edge a lot.”

“Does anything help?” you’re playing with fire by asking this but you can’t seem to stop.

“Chan said I just should act on my urges. That relieving it makes everything better.” The tips of his ears are bright red.

“I guess having a girlfriend would help,” you let out an awkward laugh.

“Yeah probably,” he drags his thumb across your skin catching your attention.

“Did you want to sleep in here tonight” it’s not the first time you would share a bed with him. Jisung has always been a person who loves skinship and often loves cuddling with you.

“Yeah I don’t exactly want to be alone. If I go to my room I’m just going to lay there and overthink everything.”

He moves so he’s laying on his back staring at the ceiling. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he looks so torn up. Without thinking you move closer to him resting your head on his chest and putting your arm across his stomach holding yourself closer to him.

“You're not alone Jisung. You never have been,” you listen to his heart and snuggle up closer to him.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” his hand gently runs up your side. “My greatest fear is doing something that would hurt you.” His voice is shaky as he speaks to you. “I need to learn to control this so I don’t have to worry about something snapping inside me.”

You look up at him to see his eyes are glassy, “Jisung I’ve never been afraid of you. Even that night in the forest, I wasn’t afraid of you. I was just worried about you being hurt.”

You hold him tighter wanting to let him know that he's safe with you. You love him so much, and it hurts to watch him suffer through everything he’s going through.

“What happens if I hurt you?”

“It’s not going to happen, so stop worrying about it,” you know that even when he gets frustrated with you there’s never been an ounce of malice towards you. Everything with the beast inside him heightens all his emotions at one point or another but he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

“If it makes you feel better this full moon I’ll stay far away,” you know he regretted letting you go to the forest with him the first time he changed.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” he sighs.

“Will you be alone?” Your stomach twists just thinking about the thought of him being alone out there suffering.

“No Chan will be there, and he said Minho will come along too.”

“Okay as long as you’re not alone.”

You lay there in his arms until you both fall asleep. Your dreams consist of your best friend who is holding you close. You dream of a lazy summer afternoon where you’re both laying on your bedroom floor as teenagers laughing. Things were easier back then. You crave the normalcy of your teenage years, but you wouldn’t give up how things are now. Even though Jisung is a wolf and you wish more than anything you could take his curse away from him, you would stand by his side until the end of the world.

The morning light shines through your curtains waking you slowly. You nuzzle closer into the chest of your best friend. A soft yawn passes your lips as you close your eyes.

“Good morning,” he says softly.

“Good morning,” you slowly pull away, stretching your body.

The day of the full moon Jisung is on edge. He paces around your apartment for most of the morning. In the afternoon he starts telling you about his plan for attempting to work on learning to change at will.

You want nothing more than to just hold him and tell him he’ll be okay, but you know you can’t do that.

Around sunset he grabs his backpack and starts to head out. He gives you one final goodbye and holds you tight for a long moment before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I’ll be back after sunrise. Please stay here, and please be safe,” he says softly.

“I’ll be okay Jisung, I need you to stay safe and not worry about me.”

As he walks out the door you lock it and press your back to the door. You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself together but you can’t help the sob that breaks as you start to worry about your best friend. You know the pain he’s going to suffer through tonight is going to be excruciating. You cry for too long before you force yourself to pull it together.

You try your hardest to keep yourself distracted as the sun fully sets and the full moon rises. Looking out the window that looks onto the city, there’s an aching in your chest as you worry about Jisung.

As night comes you lay in bed barely able to sleep. You get maybe two hours of sleep as you wait for Jisung to return home. The alarm clock on your nightstand reads six in the morning. You listen carefully hearing the front door open. Leaping out of bed, you run to the living area to find an exhausted Jisung walking in. He’s dressed in a pair of sweats and a shirt. His hair looks a mess and his eyes are red like he’s been crying. Without a second thought you throw your body into his and hold him tight.

“Are you okay?” you ask, holding on.

“Yeah I’m gonna be okay,” he says as tears slowly slide down his cheeks. “It was just as hard as last time.”

Pulling away from him you reach up and wipe his tears away. He looks completely defeated as he stands there in front of you. Your heart breaks at how sad he looks. “How do I keep doing this?”

“Chan says it gets easier,” you try to remain positive as you try to hold yourself together.

“When is it gonna get easier?” He drops his head as the tears continue to slide down his cheek.

“Unfortunately I don’t know, but trust what Chan and Changbin say,” you brush away his tears gently. “Maybe before the next moon you should try to change on your own?”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Can we please nap together? I just need to be held.”

“Of course.”

Laying in his bed he lays on his side with you pressed right behind him holding him tight.

Over the next three weeks Jisung is gone often. Whenever he’s not in school he’s with Chan, Changbin and Minho attempting to learn to change at will. They’re doing everything in their power to help Jisung cope with how his life is now.

The first few days he comes home he’s just as emotionally drained as he was the last full moon. About a week in he just seems dazed and tired. You haven’t had to hold him as he falls asleep.

He’s got a few days until his next full moon and he’s a ball of nervous energy.

Sitting on the couch next to you a heavy sigh passes his lips. You look over at him raising your eyebrow curious to what’s on his mind.

“Jisung?”

“My first rut is near,” he spats out, out of nowhere.

Your eyes go wide knowing that his first rut is going to be intense.

“Minho says that from when I got turned the timeline lines up that it’s going to happen shortly after this full moon.”

“Okay you can get through this. What’s the plan?” You assume Jisung and the small pack of boys have already made up a plan.

“I need to stay far away from you, so I won’t hurt you,” his voice is laced with worry as you stare at him.

“I’m not afraid of you hurting me,” you can’t understand why he’s so worried about hurting you.

“The boys said I’m going to have this hunger inside me that will make it where my brain will only want one thing. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

You know exactly what the one thing he’s going to need is. There’s this little part in your brain that wonders what it would be like to let him have his way with you. What it would be like to feed the beast.

“Okay. I’ll do whatever you want. Where are you going? I’m assuming you won’t be anywhere near me.”

“They said that even the scent of you could push me over the edge. I’m going to stay at Chan’s. He said most of the pack will be there to watch over me. Hyunjin just finished his first rut and he said it was intense.”

“What did Hyunjin do to get through it?” You probably shouldn’t ask but you want to know.

“Hyunjin has a girlfriend,” Jisung says with his eyes trained on you. “Hyunjin said it got to be too much and she had to help.”

“Are you going to have someone help you?” The thought of a random girl being with him intimately makes you feel sick to your stomach but you won’t ever admit that to him.

“No I can’t risk hurting anyone, and we both know I can’t just hook up with a random person.”

It’s the day of another full moon and Jisung is just as nervous as ever. The boys have taught him to change on command but he’s still scared. Every time he’s been out with the boys he’s come back slightly dazed and exhausted. He says it doesn’t hurt like it used to, that his body has adjusted to it. He says it still hurts but it doesn’t feel like every single bone in his body is breaking.

Sitting on his bed you watch as he packs his backpack for his night. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he stops and turns to face you. He pushes his fingers through his hair and drops his head.

“What’s wrong Jisung?”

“I feel like I had so many plans with my life. Between school, a career and wanting a relationship and this curse ruined everything.” He sounds completely frustrated by the cards he has been dealt.

“You can still finish school, and find the job you want. This isn’t something that is gonna stop someone from loving you,” reach for his hand and pull him down so he’s sitting on the bed next to you.

“How can someone love me when I’m a monster who could hurt them?” He can’t look at you as he speaks.

You wish you were more brave enough to tell him you were in love with him, helping him go through this has done nothing but make you love him even more.

“Does Hyunjin’s girlfriend love him?”

“Yeah they’ve been together a year or so.”

“Do any of the other boys have partners?” You reach over taking his hand in yours.

“Minho has a girl he refers to as his mate.” You can’t help but be stuck on the thought of them having mates. What does being a mate exactly entail?

“What does being a mate mean?”

“They haven’t told me all the details about it, but Minho mentioned that you feel an intense connection with someone. You also mark them,” his cheeks burn bright red, mentioning marking.

“What’s marking?” You can’t help but be curious.

“Um,” he’s clearly embarrassed now. “You bite the spot between their shoulder and their neck and it marks their partner as theirs. It tells other wolves to stay away.”

“Oh,” you can’t help the burning feeling that takes over your cheeks.

He stands up and looks out the window to see the sun is starting to go down. “I need to meet the boys in the forest.” He leans down and gently presses a kiss to your forehead gently. “Stay safe please. I’ll be back after sunrise.” Your conversation you just shared has left you with the feeling of your head swimming.

You follow him through your shared apartment and stop at the front door.

He stops at the door and gives you a sad smile, “Jisung, before you go I just want you to know that you can have a future with someone. That this curse doesn’t make you unloveable. Believe me someone will love and care for you.”

“I hope so because I want to love someone in return. I want to have a mate who isn’t afraid of the monster that’s in their bed.”

Stepping closer to him you rest your hand on cheek staring into his warm eyes, “you’ve never been a monster. There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”

Laying in bed at sunrise, you wait for Jisung to return home. The front door opens and you walk into the living room to find him standing there looking dazed. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he pushes his fingers through his messy hair.

He stands there staring at you with his warm eyes. He gives you a half smile and drops his backpack on the floor.

“How was it?” you ask, stepping towards him.

“It hurt, but not like it used to. I’m just really tired,” he says.

“Let’s go to bed,” you reach down, taking his hand in yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he practically whispers.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” you pull him into your bed. Holding him close to you.

The last two days Jisung has been locked in his room. He’s even more easily frustrated than he normally is. Standing in the kitchen you listen carefully as Jisung’s bedroom door is open. He walks into the kitchen carrying a backpack.

“YN,” he sighs.

“Is it time?”

He nods as a sigh passes his lips, “I’m on edge and my brain is fogged. I need to leave. My brain wants to do things that it shouldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be safe please don’t worry about me,” turns on his heels to walk out the door.

“Do I not get a hug goodbye?” He’s never left without saying goodbye.

“In all honesty your scent is sending me into overdrive. I think it’s best if we don’t.”

You can’t help the feeling of rejection that takes over you. He walks out the door and you can’t help but feel worried about him. You know how much he’s been dreading this.

The whole day you attempt to distract yourself by doing homework, but you can’t help but be worried about your best friend. At night you lay awake hoping to receive at least a text from Jisung letting you know he’s okay.

It’s ten in the morning when your phone starts ringing. Unfamiliar number is on your screen and you waste no time answering the phone quickly.

“Hello?”

“YN?” You immediately recognize the voice on the other side as Chan.

“Chan, is Jisung okay?” You’re suddenly worried your best friend is hurt or something is wrong.

“Jisung is in pain,” he sighs. “His first rut isn’t easy. We told him he needs to act on his needs somehow but he won’t listen. He just keeps moaning your name,” he pauses, giving you a moment to process everything he’s saying. “I don’t know much about your friendship or relationship with Jisung. But I haven’t ever heard him mention another girl other than you.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You don’t know what you can do to help but you don’t want him in pain.

“He’s gonna kill me for even calling you, but he needs someone to help him relieve himself.”

You swallow attempting to process what he just said. “Are you asking me to have sex with him?”

“YN I’m really sorry, but yes.”

“Okay, text me your address.”

Hanging up the photo you took a moment to gather yourself. This was absolutely insane and you probably shouldn’t be so willing to do this. Looking in the mirror you push your fingers through your hair and take a deep breath. Roaming around your room you start packing up an overnight bag. You aren’t exactly sure what you’ll need or how long you’ll be gone but you start packing some clothes to change into and some hygiene essentials.

The drive to Chan’s place feels like it's taking a lifetime. Your head is swimming as you drive there. Pulling up to a house on the edge of the forest you find Chan sitting outside with a blonde boy you’ve seen a few times.

“Thank you for coming,” Chan says, walking towards you. “This is Hyunjin by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunjin says, giving you a little smile.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“Follow me,” Chan says.

He leads you into the busy house. Walking inside you see a few of boys you’ve seen before. He leads you up stairs to a room down the hall.

“He’s in there.”

You hear a loud moan that sounds a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Opening the door you step inside and find Jisung shirtless laying in bed in nothing but a pair of boxers. You can’t help stare at his toned body on display.

His eyes snap to you and he jumps out of bed quickly. “YN?” He stands there staring at you with lust blown eyes. “Why are you here?”

You drop your bag on the floor by the bag as you stare at him. “Chan said you were in pain,” you take your sweater off sitting it on top of the dresser next to you.

“I’m here to help,” you’re absolutely insane and you know it. You literally came across town to have sex with your best friend because he’s in the middle of his first rut.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering?” He swallows loudly and steps back. “Medicine doesn’t fix this.”

“Jisung I know what I’m offering,” you take a step towards him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he shakes his head.

There is a stinging feeling in your chest, a feeling of rejection. “It’s okay if you don’t like me like that or you’re not attracted to me. I just thought it might be nicer than some random girl.”

“YN it’s not because I’m not attracted to you or I don’t like you. I’m just worried I’m gonna hurt you. I want to knot you so bad,” he practically growls. You blush at the mention of him knotting you. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard of knotting. Early on after he was changed he mentioned it when he was rambling on one day nervously, and when you asked questions be awkwardly explained his new anatomy.

There’s a warmth that washes over your body at the thought of Jisung being rough with you and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to stretch you open with his knot.

His breathing is heavy as he steps towards you with dark eyes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing the world.

“You need to leave now,” he growls.

“Jisung, I don’t want to. I want to help.”

He inhales deeply, stopping right in front of you, “oh my god you smell intoxicating.”

“I can do whatever you need me to.”

He steps closer to you. There’s barely any room between you as he puts his hand on your cheek tilting your head back. He swallows loudly looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.

“I might say some stuff I don’t mean. I’m really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable.”

“What could you possibly say that makes me uncomfortable? Jisung it’s me, I’m your best friend.”

He leans his head back taking a deep breath, “my body burns thinking about what I want to do to you. The thought of knotting you makes me feel like I’m going insane.”

You look down between you to see his hardened length straining against his boxers.

“Jisung do whatever you want,” you say softly.

His eyes snap down to yours with blown pupils. He practically growls staring at you. “Don’t say shit like that. I need you to keep me in check. Tell me I can’t be rough. Tell me I’m just your friend.”

His last sentence catches you off guard, you’re taken out of the moment as you knit your eyebrows together, “Jisung why do I have to tell you you’re just my friend?”

He swallows, stepping back shaking his head, “because if that’s not burned into my mind I could do something stupid.”

“What could you possibly do?”

“I could mark you.”

Your eyes go wide as you process what that means, “do wolves mark their friends?”

“Wolves don’t feel a need to mark someone unless they’re in love with them,” he shakes his head and moves away from you.

Reaching down grabbing his hand you stop him from walking away from you, “are you in love with me?”

“Please don’t make me answer that,” he sighs.

“Jisung tell me if you love me or not,” you demand as a sea of emotions starts to take over you. Your eyes start to brim with tears.

“I’m a monster. YN I can’t hurt you, there’s literally something inside me right now screaming at me to shove you against the wall and take you right now. It’s taking everything in me not to rip your clothes off with my teeth, shove my knot deep inside you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together at the mention of him ripping your clothes off with his teeth. You try to push away the inappropriate thought, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he steps closer to you again.

“You’re hurting me right by not telling me if you love me or not.”

There’s a long moment of silence between you as Jisung stares at you. The room feels small and an aching feeling is starting in your chest. “Han Jisung, if you're too afraid to admit how you’re feeling I’ll tell you how I feel. I’m hopelessly in love with you. I loved you before you turned and I’m pretty sure I fell even more in love with being by your side during this.”

“YN I’m so afraid, I love you so much and I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me,” you know his rut is heightening all his senses. You stand right in front of him and smile at him softly. “Let me help you through this. Not as your friend but as someone who is head over heels in love with you.”

He nods his head, putting his hands on your hips and moving you closer to him. “Please don’t let me get too rough with you. I’ll try my hardest not to hurt you with my knot.”

“Okay.”

He leans down, crashing his lips into yours for a heated kiss. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. There’s a warmth that washes over you as your lips move together.

Stepping away from you with a wild look in his eyes he practically growls, “I need you naked.”

You can’t help but smile stepping away from him. You waste no time stripping down to just your underwear. You’re completely bare from the waist up staring at him.

“You’re stunning,” he says, reaching out and taking your breast in one hand. “I can’t even say all the things I want to do to you.”

His lips crash into yours like a wave crashing on the shoreline. His hands grip your sides holding you close to him. You can’t help but moan as his hand moves down to grip your butt pulling you close.

Tilting your head back, his lips trail down your neck gently nipping at the skin.

“Jisung,” you moan loudly.

“I never thought I would hear you moan my name,” he groans with his lips against your skin.

“Please get fully naked and lay on the bed so I don’t manhandle you,” he steps away from you.

“Okay,” he’s trying his hardest not to hurt you.

Stripping away your last layer of clothes you lay down on the full size bed under the window. He strips away his own clothes and his hardened length slaps against his stomach catching your attention.

He crawls on the bed and sits on his hunches between your legs. His hands rub and down your sensitive skin on your inner thighs.

“I’ve wanted this forever for so long. Even before I turned, but when I turned I just craved you even more,” he groans. He presses his lips on your stomach. “There’s this voice inside my head that just keeps telling me all things I want to do to you. You turn me on so much it’s hard to control myself.”

“Jisung do whatever you want to me,” you can’t help but wonder about all the dirty things he’s thought about doing to you.

“I can’t lose control, no matter how much I want to lose myself in you,” he runs his finger through your already wet folds. “I can’t hurt you.”

His index finger does lazy circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his other hand rubs your thigh. You moan softly at the overwhelming feeling. Your eyes are focused on him as he stares at you. His finger slides into you slowly.

“Jisung please enough of this. I just want you,” you moan.

He moves away from you and lays on the bed next to you. You look over at him confused on what he’s doing.

“Condoms are in the nightstand, I need you on top. I can’t risk getting too rough. Hyunjin’s girlfriend still has bruises from Hyunjin first rut.”

Crawling off the bed you grab a foil packet from the night stand and tear it open. Crawling onto the bed you slide the rubber down his hardened length. He groans as you touch him. He’s so hard it looks absolutely painful. You straddle his waist with his erection right in front of you. Biting your bottom lip you stare at Jisung who looks feral staring up at you. Taking his length in one hand you move so you’re hovering over him. He holds his breath as you slowly sink down. Once he fills you completely you sit there on him with your hands resting on his chest.

“Han Jisung I love you,” leaning down your nose rested against his. You press your lips to his for a heated kiss.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to move because I feel like I’m dying.”

Pulling away you rest your hands on his chest as you start to move your body up and down his length. His hands tightly grip your hips as you move up and down his length. The room is filled with the echoing sounds of skin hitting skin, and the low moans passing Jisung’s lips. The sight of Jisung under you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth is a sight you want to remember for the rest of your life.

“Please go faster,” he whimpers. It’s clear he’s trying his hardest to keep control of himself.

“Anything for you,” you moan.

You pick up the pace going as quickly as you can. His hand moves to grip your butt kneading your skin and earning a low moan from you.

His head rolls back and you see the sight of his fangs showing. Your hand moves towards his jaw tilting his head down to look at you. “Are you gonna mark me?” You ask if his fangs are showing because he wants to mark you. The thought of him marking is so intriguing to you, and you can’t quite explain why.

“I can’t. Not yet,” he growls.

“Did Hyunjin mark his girlfriend?”

He grips your hips tightly causing you to still completely. His eyes are wild as he stares at you as he sits up holding your body close to him as you sit on his lap.

“He marked her, but this is different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just mark you because I told you I love you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he softens under your touch, “am I your mate?”

“I believe so. I feel a connection towards you I haven’t ever felt towards someone before. I love you so much.”

“Then why don’t you mark me?”

“Because I want this to be more romantic. I don’t want to do it just because I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he sighs, dropping his head to your shoulder. His lips gently press a kiss to the area he would mark.

“Okay Jisung,” you push him back down on the bed. You smile down at him as you start to move your hips again.

“You better take me on a date after this,” you say, rolling your hips. A small smile spreads across his lips as he stares up at you.

“I will do anything for you,” he says, gripping your hips again.

You ride him until you find your release. The coil in your stomach snaps and a warm wave washes over you, the sweet release you find is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly not caring if any of the other boys in the house hear you. His hand tightly grips your hips as he continues to move you up and down his length as he chases his own release. There’s a stretching feeling in your core you've never experienced before. Your eyes go wide realizing his knot is expanding. You moan his name adjusting to the feeling.

He moves your body slowly up and down his length. Each time his slowly expanding knot catches your entrance you can’t help but moan.

“Are you going to let me knot you and fill you up?” He groans. The lusted filled haze is taking over his brain.

Silently you nod unable to form words. “Does it hurt baby?”

“No,” you practically scream, still adjusting to the feeling.

“I knew you could take it.” He starts pressing wet kisses up your neck as he chases his high.

He slams you down on his lap coming undone moaning your name. Leaning forward you collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close as you both pant trying to catch your breath. This is a moment you want to live in for the rest of your existence.

“I love you,” he whispers, never letting go.

He holds you close reminding you that you are locked together for a while. You lean back a little to look at his beautiful face.

“Sit up for me baby,” he says softly.

With your bodies still locked together you’re resting on your knees as you sit on his lap. His hand gently rests on your hips that are already starting to show fingerprint shaped bruises.

“I hurt you,” he sighs.

“Jisung, you didn’t hurt me. Please don’t ruin this moment by worrying about some bruises. Please just hold me.”

He sighs and lays back down. “Promise me if I ever hurt you, you’ll let me know.”

“I promise, now please hold me before round two.”

He smiles and kisses the top of your head, “I see you already want another round while we’re still locked together.”

Laying in his bed he holds your hand tightly. Tomorrow is another full moon, and even though he can now easily change at will. The full moon still scares him. You curl your body close to his resting your head on his chest. Your leg is resting across his stomach as you cling to him.

“Jisung?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s going to be way easier than it’s been,” you say softly.

“I’m trying to tell myself things are getting easier,”

Things between you and Jisung are different, but it’s for the better. He pushes your hair to the side and looks at the crescent shaped mark on your skin that’s starting to fully heal.

“Did you want me to stay here or did you want me to go to Chan’s place with Minho’s mate, and Hyunjin’s girlfriend?”

“You can stay with the other girls, if you would like,” he runs his fingers across your mark.

“If I stay at Chan’s house, I’ll be closer to you.”

“You won’t have to wait for me. I'll just join you in bed.”

You lay there holding each other. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, and you can’t help but fall more and more in love with every beat of his heart.

Regarding my taglist: I’m tagging so many people like 300+ people and the the amount of reblogs and interactions I’m getting compared to my taglist make me quite sad. I kindly ask if you request to be tagged that you interact with my writing. It takes me a really long time to make sure I tag everyone. Im going to start removing silent readers and blank blogs to make tagging easier. If you want to on a taglist the form is still open. Im just really asking for interaction if I’m spending the time to tag you.

Thank you to anyone who has been replaying to the post and reblogging them.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz #han jisung #Han jisung smut #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #stray kids werewolf au #skz wolf au #Han jisung werewolf #admist the chaos #chaos series #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids insert reader #han jisung insert reader

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littlefireball · 2 months ago

Text

ᴡʏ|ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʟᴘ ꜰ**ᴋ ᴍᴇ? (ᴍ)

ᴘʟᴀʏʙᴏʏ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.7ᴋ

Summary: You hate him and he hates you. But what if the alcohol makes you beg for him? Well, that's not good.

It was a chilly autumn evening, and the streets were painted with hues of orange and red as the sun began its descent towards the horizon. You walked briskly through the familiar alleys, your steps echoing off the cobblestones, each one carrying the weight of a heart heavy with resentment.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" You blamed yourself. The mere idea of encountering someone you despise again later darkened your mood even further─originally, your mood soured because of menstruation. If your friend hadn't begged over and over again, you would never have said yes. "It'll be fun," she said, with a smile that masked the underlying tension in the air. "You two need to let go of your differences and just enjoy each other's company for once."

"Bullshit." You rolled your eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. No way could you ever go through with it, especially when it came to Wooyoung. He was a playboy you had known for years—once a friend, now a rival. You chuckled at the absurdity of having ever thought you could be friends or even fall for him. He was charming, handsome, and caring, seemingly the perfect match for you. But on the very day you planned to confess your feelings, you overheard him chatting with his friends—"Y/N? I'm just having fun. Who would actually want her, honestly?" In that moment, your dreams shattered, and all the love was gone, replaced by hatred.

Of course, you didn't tell your mutual friend the truth. You could never let Wooyoung know.

"Finally, you're here!" Your friend hurried to swing the door open as soon as the knock echoed through the hallway. "And look, Wooyoung's here too."

"I get it, you don't need to remind me" you replied, managing a strained smile while slipping off your shoes. You deliberately averted your eyes from Wooyoung as you spotted him. "I won't stay long."

"Why not? I'm heading overseas next week, so just hang out with me a bit longer!!"

"Fine."

The party was a blur of loud music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People milled around, their faces lit up with excitement and the promise of a good time. You found yourself standing in a corner, nursing a drink and trying to ignore the buzz of conversation around you.

It was then that you saw him, across the room, standing alone, looking as out of place as you felt. Your eyes met briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in them—perhaps regret, or even a longing for better days. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the familiar scowl of contempt.

The air crackled with tension between the two of you, a storm brewing just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. It happened sooner than you expected. As you headed toward the bar for another drink, he stepped in your path, his voice a dark whisper.

"What are you doing here?" he spat, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Ugh. If you can't handle your drink, just head home, jerk."

"Mind your own business, idiot," You countered, your voice spoke up. "Why don't you just leave if you're so bothered? Your face is just grossing me out."

"That's rich coming from you," He snapped, stepping closer. "I'm here to care for you and you blame me?"

"Ha!Funny!Is this how you care for others?" You sneered, giving him a scornful look. "Just get out of my face."

"It's no doubt why you have no boyfriend, huh? You period everyday?"

"So what about you? Did you eat shit everyday so that your mouth is fucking smelly?"　

Once more, the two of you found yourselves caught in a fierce dispute, words slicing through the air like sharp blades. The onlookers around you two blurred into the background, leaving only the two of you engaged in a fierce clash of determination.

"Hey you two just stop!" Your shared friend finally stepped in, breaking the tension. "Can't you guys just keep in peace for one second?"

"Never." You two yelped at the same time.

"I'm done." You grabbed your things and made your way to the door, ignoring your friend. "I could never talk with this asshole anymore."

"Me either. Fuck you, asshole." Wooyoung roared, giving you a middle finger.

"Fuck you, dickhead." You stormed out of the party, a whirlwind of humiliation and fury swirling within you. The cool night air wrapped around you like a brisk embrace, yet it did nothing to calm your frayed nerves. As you meandered through the streets, your mind raced with a chaotic mix of anger and bewilderment. Eventually, you found yourself at a bar, a shadowy refuge where you could immerse yourself in the comforting haze of drink.

The hours passed in a blur of drinks and solitude. you lost count of how many you had consumed, but you knew you were drunk. Your head was spinning. You were not exactly built for it, and even a small amount made your face flush bright red.

"Damn it…" You placed your palm on your forehead as a wave of dizziness swept over you. A grimace appeared on your face as the throbbing pain intensified, with beads of sweat running down your brow. You were on your period right now, that fierce argument earlier was only going to make things worse. You ended up feeling intense pain, like a hammer pounding on your lower abdomen, leaving you doubled over and unable to stand.

"I need someone to help…" You murmured, struggling to find your phone.

—--

"Where did she go?" Your friend called you several times but you missed them all. The loud music in the bar completely drowned out your ringtone.

"Hey, Wooyoung. Could you help me to find her?" Your friend asked.

"What?Me?Nope." Wooyoung took a sip from his drink, not caring for your safety.

"You're the one who pissed her off, damn it."

"Tsk, fine." Wooyoung rolled his eyes, reluctantly setting down his glass and dialing your phone.

In truth, he didn't harbor any real hatred for you, at least not to the extent that you loathed him. He's known as a playboy, notorious for his flings with numerous female classmates, and countless girls have bared their hearts to him. Yet, he turned them all down, unable to feel a spark with any of them—until you came along. Your warmth, your radiant smile, everything about you captivated him. He's convinced that you must have feelings for him too; after all, you wouldn't go out of your way to gather the little tokens he gifted you, nor would you blush so deeply when speaking with him.

But then, everything took a turn.

He confided in his friends about wanting a serious relationship with you, only to be met with laughter from those he called friends. To save face, he brushed it off as a joke. Yet, that single remark shattered all the good moments you had shared. He contemplated making another move on you, but your sudden shift in demeanor ignited a fury within him, leading to arguments every time you crossed paths.

"Tsk…why do I need to find her?" Wooyoung complained, walking on the street aimlessly. He sighed, the cold wind outside made him sober. In fact, he missed the good times you'd shared, the laughter and camaraderie that had once defined your friendship, or even love. He wished with all his might that things could go back to the way they were, but he knew it was impossible.

—--

Out of nowhere, you found yourself reaching for your phone. Your fingers dialed Wooyoung's number almost instinctively, as if your subconscious mind knew what your heart desired. The phone rang a few times before he picked up, his voice sounding distant and wary.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone guarded.

"I...I need help," You stumbled, your words slurring together.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then he said, "Where are you?"

You told him the name of the bar, and within minutes, he was there.

"Why did you drink that much?!I told you just go back home and you come to the bar?" Wooyoung blamed you while helping you out of your seat, but you suddenly hissed in pain.

"What's wrong?"

"It hurts!"

"Where?"

"Cunt." Wooyoung nearly let out a shout of astonishment, but quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. He was taken aback by how candid you were in your drunken state.

"What…What??"

"I said period ~pain!"

"Ugh…" He helplessly rolled his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he tried to pick you up. But instead of rising, you leaned back, seizing his collar and sending him tumbling onto you. He caught himself with both hands on the back of the chair, leaning in so close that he could feel the warmth of your breath, laced with the intoxicating scent of alcohol, brush against his face.

"Fuck me, Wooyoung." You whispered, barely opened your eyes. You had no idea what you were doing but just followed your inner desire.

"What the heck are you talking about?" Wooyoung's fist tightened, his heart pounding wildly at the sound of your pleas. He caught a glimpse of your chest, the neckline dipping enticingly from the earlier movement. As he swallowed hard, a rush of desire surged through him, getting an erection. But he tried to keep calm;he didn't want to take advantage of you.

"I said fuck me!Make your cock inside me!"

"Fuck you, bitch." He couldn't resist the lust within him anymore, all the rationale faded away as you begged with moan. He wanted to fuck you, fuck you so hard until you ask him to stop. "You beg for it."

With your legs entwined around his waist, he effortlessly hoisted you up, gathering you close. Luckily, the car was just a short distance from the bar. He fished out the keys, started the engine, swung open the door, and gently set you down in the back seat. He put your gathering on the front seat and took out a condom from the box, climbing over you.

"I ask you one more time, dear. Do you want me to fuck you, huh?" He tucked your hair at the back, watching your every detail until his hand stopped at your chin. "It's the last chance to say no."

"I want you, Wooyoung." Emotions surged within you, and tears began to brim in your eyes, leaving you puzzled about their origin. Perhaps it was the weight of finally revealing your deepest emotions that overwhelmed you, making it impossible to hold back.

Your eyes met in a moment of unspoken understanding, as if the world around you faded into obscurity. "Please, it hurts." Your gaze was hazy with alcohol's gentle embrace, yet it sparkled with a mischievous light that drew him in.

"Fuck." Before Wooyoung finished his words, his lips pressed against yours. The kiss was nothing you had ever experienced before. It was clumsy, yet passionate, fueled by the reckless abandon that only liquor can bring. Your lips met with a soft thud, then parted, only to find yourselves drawn back together in a desperate embrace. You both tasted of sweet wine and each other, of bitter beer, their flavours mingling in a dance of sensation.

"I never hated you." Wooyoung said between the kisses, his head divided into the crook of your neck. You arched your neck, feeling his lips trailed up and down along the curve of it. The kiss became more intense, each passionate press of lips a testament to the depth of your connection.

Sliding down your sleeve to expose your bra, the cold sensation sent shivers down your spine. He buried his head in your chest, his hand grabbed the hem of your bra and pulled it down, wrapping around your nipple with his warm mouth. You opened your mouth for better breathing as his tongue went rough on your nipple, the wet muscle moved in a circle way and tapped your skin at a fast pace, making you moan at shyness.

Lips parted, he sat up straight to unzip his pants. The tightness underneath made him feel uncomfortable, he needed to release. "Please don't stop." "Hang on, princess. How horny are you? Aren't you in your period?" Before you whined at discomfort, he leaned back to suck you breast, making you squirm as if an electricity passed through your body.

"You like it?" A soft laugh escaped his lips as he lifted your dress, planting a series of tender kisses that journeyed from your chest to your stomach. Your upper body arched and fell rhythmically, each breath coming in heavy gasps, the thrill he ignited within you sending your mind into a delightful whirl.

Lifting up your thighs, he pulled down your panties, finding your blood was not that much as he expected. Maybe thanks to the help of alcohol, he didn't feel too disgusted.

"Maybe we need a towel." He extended his hand to grab a towel from the car trunk, grabbing your thighs up and placing it under both of your bodies. "I'll make you squirt after all."

Smiled, he wrapped up a condom and positioned himself between your thighs. "Beg me one more time, y/n." "Please, woo─oh fuck!" His big fat cock slipped into your cunt in one go, making you arch your back and moan so loud. The blood was just like a lube, he could move in and out easily without feeling hurt.

"Woo…oh fuck…" Your hands found their way to your clit, caressing the fold slightly as Wooyoung pulsed into your cunt without mercy. It was so good; the period pain gradually subsided each time his length skimmed your velvet wall, kissed your spot with his hard tip. The sounds of the night—distant laughter, cars passing by—melted into the background, replaced by the thundering of your hearts and the gentle skin slapping sound.

"Need deeper, honey." He placed your legs on his shoulder, folding you as a mating press, leaning over to go deeper until the limitation. "Shit, hurt…" "Relax, it'll be good." His fingers clutched onto your bare shoulder, grasping it tightly as he collided with your deepest spot. "Here?" He hit it once again, a loud moan flew from your lips instead of a verbal answer. Without a second thought, he aimed at the same place and surged.

The vehicle trembled violently under Wooyoung's throbbed thrusting; it was likely catching the eyes of passersby, but he was indifferent to their stares. All he wanted was to proclaim to the world that you were finally his. "Fuckkk, slow slow slow….!!" You moaned messily and grasped his arms, feeling he was going to ruin you. Something strange gathered in your stomach, urging you to release it without care. The moan muffled as all the strength gathered on releasing, you squirted hard and wetted all Wooyoung's clothes.

"Shit, babe. I told you." He felt his ego grow to see you squirt under him, his cock twitched at the time your wall squeezed hard when squirting. "Goodness, wooyoung…" You could sense that your second peak was drawing near; that familiar sensation had returned once more.

"Wanna cum, huh? Cum for me again, Y/N. I love how you moan out my name when you cum." His dirty words broke your limitation and you came again, arching your back and moaning out the name of the man above you. "Shit." All the heat rushed to the tip, making his cock twitch. His thrusting lost its rhythm;he pumped into you harshly and let out a long-throaty moan as he came all in his condom. The warmth of his seed spread in your cunt and he pulled out slowly to make you feel every vein of his cock.

"Wait," He brushed his lips against yours in a tender peck before carefully taking off his condom and tidying up the both of you. With a gentle touch, he assisted you in getting dressed, his demeanor always soft and considerate. You had already drifted into a deep slumber, overwhelmed by the intensity of the night and the effects of the alcohol, sleeping peacefully.

The back seat offered just enough room for him to spoon you; he slid his arm beneath your shoulder while the other wrapped securely around your waist, inhaling the sweet fragrance that lingered around you. "Let me drive you home tomorrow; I can't do it right now." He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, lost in a sea of contemplation. He pondered how you might react if the truth came to light; perhaps you would loathe him even more or wish him harm. A chill of fear coursed through him, the anxiety that you might abandon him again, even though you had never truly belonged to him. Regret washed over him like a tide, and he tightened his embrace, feeling the weight of his emotions.

—--

The dawn slowly crept in, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, yet you remained unaware, nestled in his warmth. He gazed out the window, the city waking up around them, as he contemplated the path ahead. His heart was heavy with last night, but he cherished these stolen moments, knowing they could be fleeting.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, as if trying to memorize every detail. As the sun fully rose, casting a golden glow on your peaceful face, he decided to cherish this moment, letting go of the worry for a while. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to absorb the scent of you, the feeling of your body pressed against his, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from you, soothing his troubled soul.

But the reality of the situation loomed, and he knew he couldn't keep hiding forever. The thought of facing the consequences, of losing your trust, sent a shiver down his spine.

With a heavy heart, he gently disentangled himself from your embrace, leaving a kiss on your forehead before slipping out of the car. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the convenient shop to buy some breakfast, only to find that you had already woken up and stood in front of the car door when he came back.

"You wake up?" He said, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Is it truly how you care for others?" You complained slightly, but your voice was not harsh at all, it was soft.

"Ugh…I brought some food, hangover medicine, and also a pad…I think you need it." He stammered, making you let out a soft chuckle.

"Thanks." You managed to say.

He didn't reply, but he handed you the food, your favourite bread. You couldn't believe he still remembered your love. You ate in silence for a while, the only sounds were the chewing and the distant hum of city life.

The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. He watched you eat, a small smile playing on his lips. He was grateful for these simple moments, even if he still didn't know what you thought after last night.

As you finished your breakfast, he spoke up, his voice gentle. "Are you still hurt?"

"No." You looked up at him with no smile, your expression guarded.

"I know what I did was wrong. I never meant to hurt you. I was just…lost."He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I'll take responsibility, I promise."

You were surprised at his words, expecting he would say 'Let's pretend nothing happened' and drive away. Maybe you misunderstood him?

"Then how?" You met his gaze, your eyes softening.

"Can we start over?" He approached you, his voice firm. "I never really hated you… it's just that I get really frustrated whenever you say something mean to me. I know I fucked up, and it makes sense that you'd be upset with me. Can you forgive me?"

Your gaze softened further as he spoke, the weight of his apology hanging heavily in the air. You hesitated, not wanting to let go of the hurt so easily but also recognizing the sincerity in his eyes.

"It's not just about last night," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's about you wooing me just for fun. That's what you said."

"No, Y/N." He denied immediately, feeling nervous. "It was just a lie. I never meant to play with your feelings. I'm not wooing you just for kicks; I really do like you. I'm sorry for what I said to cover my tracks. Please, can we try again? Together?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Forgiveness wasn't something that came easily, but the way he looked at you, with such earnestness and vulnerability, made it harder to resist.

"Okay," you said, finally. "But only if you're not lying."

He smiled, relief etched across his face. "I promise. Let me make up for you, babe."

"Who is your babe?"

"What?Aren't you to be my girlfriend?"

"Who said that?"

He pouted, acting like a child.

"Not now."

"So in the future?"

"I don't know. Just give me some time."

"Okay then. I'll wait for you." He reached out and took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours.

And just like that, you began to rebuild your relationship, one small step at a time.

—--

(little side story)

(several months after that night)

"It's good to hear you two finally reconcile." Your mutual friend said happily. "So what did you do, wooyoung?"

"Ugh…nothing. Just apologize and drive her home. That's it." Wooyoung said nervously.

"You're lying, Wooyoung."

"No!I didn't!"

"Hey, babe. Who're you talking with?" You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pecking at his lips and leaning on his chest. The kissing sound and your voice rang in the phone, making your friend gasp in shock.

"YOU…YOU?!WHAT HAPPENED AT THAT NIGHT??"

"Not your business." Wooyoung smirked, hanging up the phone before flipping you over to draw you into a passionate kiss.

tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x female reader #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmarcus pike x art historian!reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to lovers, forced proximity, smut, minors dni,

word count: 6k

summary: when a famous art collector is murdered, circumstances lead you to be temporary roommates with Marcus Pike.

warnings: oral sex (marcus receiving), marcus getting spoiled, some very mild angst, idiots in love

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @sevillagrenada! thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

** dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Another day, another handsome detective at your doorstep.

It’s been a few months since you and Marcus first got acquainted. He had visited you during one of your busiest hours, asking you for information on a recently stolen painting while you were desperately trying to sort out a curated disaster by one of the interns. It didn’t end well. You ended up shouting at him to leave you alone and even though you regretted your choice in showing how distressed you were, it was what it was. What surprised you later, however, was finding him in the early morning hours with two coffees and blueberry muffins. He apologized profusely and asked for a do-over. Something that you were more than eager to oblige.

And the rest, what most art historians like you would say, was history.

Now he visits you almost every morning if he can. Thanks to his charm, you were now considered the number one go-to person of the FBI when it came to art theft. A title you didn’t mind having.

“A bit early even for you, don’t you think?” you say, handing him the folders you’d been carrying. You smile as he lets out an exaggerated “oomph” and go to open the door. “Don’t be a baby, detective.”

“I just wanted to see you, what’s the harm in that,” he answers, following you inside. “I have the day off tomorrow so I won’t be visiting.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Good to see that someone appreciates it.”

He takes a seat as you head for the coffee machine. You’d got it a month ago, saving Marcus the trouble of waiting in line every morning before work. You appreciate having this as an excuse for him to stop by every morning. Luckily, the museum was on his way to work, meaning he was more than happy to visit you. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that this relationship between you two is meant to be nothing other than friendship, a platonic thing. But every day you find your heart swelling more and more at the sight of him. It’s been too long since you felt close to someone. It’s been even longer since you ached for a person you know you shouldn’t ache for.

“Are you working on something with Remedios Valo?” When you turn you see him hunched over your desk, his eye meet yours, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, all these books were just sprawled here. I couldn’t help but look.”

The coffee machine comes to life, the aroma mixing in with the scent of books.

“That’s alright,” you answer, lips feeling numb. “And yeah, Olivier is adding one of her works to his collection so he wanted me to take a look.”

“Which one is he buying?”

You know he absolutely despises the idea of art being bought, hidden from the rest of the world to be a decoration. You hear it in the drop of his voice.

“Les Feuilles Mortes.” His gaze falls back to the table. “Dead leaves. The one with the woman with orange hair and green dress.”

He hums when he finally sees it on the page, “It’s a nice one.”

“It is. It’s one of my favorites.”

You bring the two cups of steaming coffee. His eyes find yours as you place them down, taking a seat. “You must be excited then,” he states. “To be seeing it in person.”

“I’m just happy it’s going to someone I know will take care of it.”

“I did meet him once. Seemed like a decent enough guy.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, “You really hate art collectors don’t you?”

“With a passion,” a soft smile touches his lips. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

You shake your head, smiling into your cup as you bring the steaming liquid to your lips. He’s always like this. Making sure just how much you matter, making you feel cherished, it’s a contrast to how you feel most of the time. Your eyes fall on the painting printed onto the glossy paper. Everyone interprets art differently. In this particular piece, you see loneliness but also a peaceful serenity. The shadow bowing to the woman, them being connected with a piece of blue yarn that she’s holding. The fact that it’s blue and not read also piques your interest. It makes you think it’s not something that is forced, it’s not the fates that brought them together but something else. Something more intimate and free.

“So, when are you seeing this stunning artwork in person?”

“Tonight.”

Marcus already knows that today is going to be a long day.

He knew it as soon as he entered his office, all fellow agents gathered in one place, murmuring. They parted like the Red Sea when he came through. That’s when the captain told him that extinguished art collector Olivier Balmaceda was found dead. Murdered.

All he could think of was you. How excited you were to see him, and the painting, tonight. How Olivier was your friend and what would this mean for the investigation? Everyone here knew you, adored you. You being close to the murder victim certainly wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to be involved in any way, not even as a consultant.

He steps out of the unmarked FBI sedan, his leather shoes echoing against the pavement as he approaches the crime scene. His partner, Tim, follows suit, both agents taking in the scene that awaits them.

The art collector's mansion looms before them, an opulent testament to a life steeped in appreciation for creativity. The air carries a faint scent of antique wood and the unmistakable aura of the art world. As they enter the expansive gallery, it becomes clear that Olivier Balmaceda's passion for art extends far beyond mere aesthetics.

The crime scene, bathed in the soft glow of gallery lights, is surreal. Olivier lies in the heart of his sanctuary, surrounded by the very beauty that defined his existence. The juxtaposition of life and death against the backdrop of artistic brilliance is haunting.

Tim glances at Marcus, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Together, they navigate the intricate dance of art and tragedy. The paintings, sculptures, and tapestries bear witness to the final act of a man whose life was intricately interwoven with the world he cherished.

As Marcus approaches Olivier's lifeless form, he can't help but feel the weight of the art that envelops them.

The art collector's mansion is cloaked in an air of somber anticipation as Marcus's focused gaze is drawn back to Olivier's lifeless form, nestled among the artworks that had once been a source of joy. The forensic team, adorned in pristine white suits, moves with meticulous precision, weaving through the crime scene like careful curators preserving a delicate masterpiece.

"Bullet entry at the back of the head. Looks like a single gunshot," Marcus hears one of them say, his voice a measured cadence amid the artistic silence.

Marcus nods, absorbing the gravity of the information. The team proceeds, each member contributing to the careful orchestration of documentation. His path takes him to the abstract painting, now surrounded by the scrutinizing eyes of forensic experts.

"We're scanning for any hidden messages or anomalies. This painting could hold clues.”

"Keep me posted," Marcus replies.

His attention turns to the delicate sculpture, now cocooned in an evidence bag. Tim approaches, his words a whisper against the backdrop of the gallery.

"Looks like they're treating the whole gallery as a crime scene. Anything stand out to you?" Tim inquires, his voice a muted harmony in the investigative symphony.

"Not yet. We need to dig deeper, find the connections between Olivier and whoever did this," Marcus responds, his words a subtle melody of determination.

The investigation shifts towards Olivier's desk, adorned with sketches and notes – a tableau of potential motives. They meticulously examines the papers, unveiling a narrative hidden within the inked strokes.

"Possible motive here. Let's see if Olivier was working on something that could've angered someone," suggests the expert, their words punctuating the air with a promise of revelation.

Acknowledging their findings, Marcus's thoughts churn with possibilities. Just as the investigation prepares to move to another sector of the mansion, his discerning eyes catch sight of a sketchbook nestled on a nearby shelf. A flicker of curiosity sparks within him, prompting the donning of gloves.

"Hold on a moment," Marcus interjects, a pause that reverberates through the dance of forensic activity.

The team halts, their collective gaze directed towards Marcus as he delicately retrieves the sketchbook. Its presence is unassuming, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. As Marcus flips through its pages, the sketches reveal a familiar artistic style, each stroke a brush with recognition.

"Wait... these look like—" Marcus begins, his words a murmur to the sketches that come to life beneath his fingertips.

Tim glances over, an inkling of recognition in his eyes.

"Isn't that—"

"Yeah. It's hers," Marcus confirms, closing the notebook.

So much for not getting you involved.

“Captain, you can’t be serious.”

Your eyes are drawn to Marcus, his voice holding the tone of nothing other but disbelief. Your eyes turn to the floor. Olivier is dead. Murdered. And the only proper evidence to connect the dots of what happened is your sketchbook. The sketchbook you could’ve sworn you left in your office. The sketchbook that you only kept to yourself other than Marcus and a couple of more trustworthy people. One of them being Olivier.

You close your eyes. It’s exhausting to breathe. You focus on how your nostrils flare and let it all out through a small gap between your lips. Marcus inches closer, hand firm against the small of your back.

“I’m dead serious, Agent Pike,” Captain Lana answers, her voice calm yet cold as ice. “Until this entire case is solved, she’s on house arrest and under your care.”

“Just because we found her sketchbook does not mean she’s a suspect—”

“Agent Pike,” her voice cuts through the tension in the room. A sharp shudder crawls up your spine, your skin prickling with attention as you open your eyes. Despite her tone, she doesn’t look mad. “You will do what is best for our consultant. As of right now, she is linked to the case of one of the biggest art collectors for reasons we do not know. The best thing we can do is keep an eye on her and protect her.”

His mouth slams shut, his jaw clenched. His hand deserts your back and in that moment, all you can feel is guilt. Guilt of him being forced to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do.

To share his home.

“I understand,” he answers curtly, turning on his heel. “Let’s go get your things.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you, shooting Captain Lana a glance, you follow him out of the office.

Marcus hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive. Even when you finally parked, he just took your bags and led you up the stairs to his apartment. Your heart felt as if it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The poor organ was already weighted down by your friend's death, and now one of the closest people to you couldn’t even look at you.

He drops your bags to the floor and you slowly shut the door. You don’t even have it in you to look around, not that it would matter, you’ve already been here before. You doubt anything changed.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything else. “God, Marcus, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

His hands are on you in an instant, lifting your downturned gaze. You blink away the tears, breath catching in your throat as you meet his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in them. You could live an eternity there. “For . . for having to stay here. I know it’s inconvenient.”

“Oh, sweetheart no, no. You could never be an inconvenience. I’m. . . I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I should’ve checked in on you. None of this is your fault understand. None of it,” his thumbs draw slow circles around your cheeks, the knot in your throat growing by the second. “And for all it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here. I would be worried sick knowing that you’re alone.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled into his chest, your senses completely enveloped by his scent. He gingerly cups your head from behind, holding you there, allowing you to disappear from the world for a while.

The first tear escapes unexpectedly. It’s immediately absorbed into his shirt and the rest follows. He doesn’t try to hush you, doesn’t try to get you to stop. He allows you to break down completely. You cry and cry, until there’s nothing left anymore. Only then does he pull back, lifting your gaze to him once more.

“Feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Marcus.”

He shakes his head, “I’m not doing anything you should be thankful for. This…this is what friends do.”

That’s right. Friends.

Your eyes sting when you blink, a forced smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah, friends.”

You’re almost certain that you’re imagining it, but you swear the crease between his brows deepens with your answer.

The soft glow of the TV screen bathes the room as Marcus settles onto the couch beside you. “Really? That’s what you want to watch?”

Marcus raises a brow as he looks down at you. You’re wrapped in a blanket, looking as if the two of you have been living together for years. He loves how you’re already comfortable with the living situation. He wished he could have this in better circumstances without an ongoing murder investigation, but he’ll take what he gets.

“I haven’t started the new season yet, it’ll be fun.”

“It’s a murder mystery. Are you sure?”

You snort, “I know the plot of Only Murders In The Building, Marcus. No need to remind me.”

As the first episode begins, the room is filled with the intriguing soundtrack of the show. Marcus watches the characters unfold on the screen, but his attention keeps drifting back to you. The play of emotions on your face, the way you get caught up in the plot – it's more captivating to him than any murder mystery.

Gradually, you lean into him, seeking comfort in the shared moment. The warmth of your presence seeps into Marcus's consciousness, and he finds himself entranced by the way you become absorbed in the show. Unconsciously, his arm drapes around your shoulder, the gesture protective yet tender.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus grapples with his own emotions. The line between friend and something more blurs as he navigates the uncharted territory of his feelings. As you snuggle closer, he can feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Marcus's mind. Does this closeness mean the same to you as it does to him? He wonders if you sense the subtle shift in the dynamics between you. The arm around your shoulder, a silent invitation, speaks volumes, but Marcus Pike remains in that delicate space between uncertainty and the unspoken desire for something more. The murder mystery on the screen becomes a mere backdrop to the complex enigma of emotions unfolding between two souls entangled in the intricacies of life and love.

Marcus's heart races as he lets his hand linger on your waist. He can feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of your shirt, and he wonders if you can feel the heat of his touch as well.

He watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the same intensity and focus on the TV. It both thrills and confuses him – is it possible that you can be so oblivious to the way he feels?

But as he watches you, he notices the faint hitch in your breath when his hand moves slightly, as if you're aware of his touch but trying to hide it. It only fuels the growing attraction between them, and Marcus can feel himself getting more and more drawn in.

His mind is filled with images of how he wants to touch you, and he can barely contain the urge to lean in and brush his lips against your neck. He wants to feel your skin against his, to explore every inch of your body.

The tension in the room becomes palpable, and Marcus can feel his heart racing. He looks over at you, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of desire in your eyes. But just as quickly, it disappears, and you go back to watching the movie without a second glance.

His hand moves even closer to yours, brushing against your fingers lightly. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, and he knows that you're just as affected by the electric chemistry between them.

His mind is clouded with desire, and all he can think about is kissing you, touching you. But he knows he needs to be patient. He can’t just make a move and potentially ruin the friendship you have.

But as the episode goes on, Marcus can barely pay attention anymore. All he can focus on is you, and the way your body moves slightly with each scene. He can feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, and he knows he needs to do something to release the tension.

Without thinking, his hand moves to your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin. He can see your breath hitch and your eyes flutter closed for a split second before you regain your composure.

He leans in closer to you, his lips just inches away from your ear. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

Marcus relaxes when you nod, eyes still glued to the screen. He knows you want to turn to him, to witness his feelings lingering in his eyes but he also knows that you can’t for the same reason why he can’t tell you how he feels. Fear. Fear of rejection. Of loss of a friendship.

So, his hand on your thigh is as far as he’ll go. Soothing you with the simplest of touches.

The credits roll and the episode ends, Marcus can't help but feel a lingering sense of longing. He knows he needs to push these feelings aside and focus on the case, but he also can't deny the strong connection he feels with you.

As you stand up to turn off the TV, Marcus suddenly reaches out and takes your hand in his, surprising both of you. The air between them is heavy with unspoken words and tension, but they both know this isn’t the time or the place.

For now, they'll focus on solving the murder and catching the killer. But Marcus can't shake the feeling that this shared moment was the beginning of something more – something that could change everything.

It’s been almost two weeks now since you moved in with Marcus. And other than Olivier’s murder, things have been. . . peaceful. He’s been doing everything for you. You’ve never been taken care of to this extent before. It made you feel bad in a way, as if you were a burden to him and now he felt inclined to take care of you just because of the circumstances.

However, you couldn’t ignore the tension either, the chemistry. Almost every night you thought of when the two of you watched TV. How close the two of you were. You often find yourself thinking about how differently that night could’ve ended. Only if you were brave enough, then maybe the friendship could’ve escalated into something more.

While heating leftovers for the both of you from last night, the door clicks open. You expect to see his smile, the same question on his lips asking how your day was—but all you can see in his eyes is exhaustion. He forces a smile when he sees you, then silently heads to his room. Your lungs cave in on itself. Your body buzzing with worry, you look down at the barely heated leftovers. He deserves something more. Something fresh.

So, as you quickly head down the hall to check on him, you order his favorites. You come to a halt at the door, heart beating in your throat, you knock.

“I’ll be right there,” he says, almost apologetically, which makes you feel even worse.

“I just wanted to check if you’re alright. Can I. . . Can I come in?”

You’re about to head back to the living room when the door slowly opens. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt wide open, exposing skin. You barely manage to tear your gaze away. He looks vulnerable, defeated.

“I’m okay,” he clears his throat. “I promise.”

You ignore what he says and take a step forward, forcing the both of you inside the bedroom. It smells of cinnamon. “I ordered us some food from that place you like. We have some time to relax.”

“Relax?”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding and trap his face between your hands. You want to make him feel good. You want to pamper him. At least this one time, you want to do something for him instead. You know what his answer is going to be if you ask him about his day—he’ll brush you off, because it’s the case you’re involved in. The murder of your friend.

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.”

His eyes widen, lashes fluttering, his lips part, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” You quickly add when you see the hesitation growing in his eyes. “Please.”

You notice the hollow in his cheek, the way his jaw moves as he chews on the inside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest. After what feels like hours, his head jerks in a small nod, “Okay.”

Marcus gently falls onto the bed and you drop to your knees, taking a place between his spread legs. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze intense as you fumble with his belt. You tug down his pants along with his underwear, his hips slightly lifting to make it easier for you. His cock is still soft. It makes a certain type of hunger grow inside you. Placing both hands on his thighs, you dip down, taking him into his mouth. He sharply inhales, cock twitching over your tongue. It doesn’t take him long to grow in your mouth, and suddenly swallowing him down proves to be harder than you thought.

Your nostrils flare as you attempt to swallow him down, your nose brushing against the soft curls. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, and when you look up you see his head falling back, his brows furrowed as he breathes heavily through his nose.

Parting away, you suck the base of his cock, your tongue swirling. His hips jerk and a moan rips from his throat. “That—that feels good,” he swallows.

“You like it slow?” you say, lips moving against sensitive skin. “Tell me how you like it. Show me.”

“You’re doing great sweetheart, just do it how it’s best for you,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not picky.”

Brows knitting together, you pull away and fix him a half-hearted glare. You wrap your fingers around and begin to stroke him, witnessing the flex of his thighs. “I want to do it how you like it,” you state. “Show me or I’ll stop.”

Your lips curl as you hear him whine. It’s such a beautiful sound.

“Fine.”

He drags you back down to his cock, your hand falling away. You open your mouth to take him once more, thinking that he wants to fuck your mouth, but instead, he presses your lips to the side of his cock. You feel the heat of him, the bulging of his veins.

“Wrap your lips,” he rasps and when you do, he starts to move your head up and down.

You let out a muffled moan, the vibrations sending shivers down Marcus’ spine. His movements are slow, almost as if he’s fucking himself deep into you—almost as if he’s been thinking about this for months. Your head bobs up and down, your lips pursed around him tightly. You hear him grunt above you, and you can tell that he’s struggling to keep himself in control.

“Put your hands back on my thighs,” Marcus commands, and you do so without hesitation. “I want to feel the bite of your nails.” His thighs are shaking beneath your touch, and you can feel the coiled tension inside him, just waiting to snap. You do as he asks, digging your nails slightly into the flesh. Another whimper falls for him, a sounds desperate and needy at the same time. He pulls up and finally slips himself into your warm mouth, your eyes water as he pushes you down, taking him whole.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Marcus grunts, his voice punctuated by the wet sounds of your mouth on his cock.

You keep up the pace, eager to please him. You can feel his cock growing harder and harder inside your mouth, and you can tell that he’s close. You swirl your tongue around him, pressing your lips even tighter around him.

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “I’m gonna—”

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases into your mouth with a deep groan, his hips bucking up into your face. You eagerly take him in, swallowing around him as he spills, hot come trailing down your throat. He lets out a heavy sigh, his body going limp as he comes down from his orgasm.

You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Marcus looks at you with admiration and slight embarrassment, his cheeks peppered with a faint shade of red.

“Sorry, that was quick,” he murmurs, tugging you up and pulling you to his lap. “Now it’s your turn.”

He leans towards your lips but you stop him by pressing two fingers, they’re soft. “We can think about me later,” you say, despite the inside of your panties being an absolute wet mess. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” he objects, nipping at your fingers. “Don’t you. . . I thought you wanted me.”

The guilt in his eyes is back and your hand drops away from his lips. He’s holding you tight as if you might disappear.

“I do,” you answer tentatively. “But I don’t want you to jump into this thinking you have to. I don't want you to do anything you might regret.”

“Regret?” he shakes his head. “What does that even mean? I’m not jumping into anything. I’m not confused if that’s what you’re worried about,” his arms around you tighten, and with that, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You just sucked my cock—are you telling me that was out of pity? Gratitude?”

You cut him off, “N–No. . .”

“Then what was it?” his voice drops dangerously low, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I’m one hundred percent here. It has nothing to do with the case. And for you to do something just because you felt bad for me. . . I thought we were finally getting somewhere after all of this.”

“Marcus—”

“I think I want to be alone right now,” he turns his head away from you but doesn’t do anything to push you off of him. Your apology dies in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. You slowly move away, the taste of his come still in your mouth as you contemplate what to do. What to say.

But whatever you were planning evaporates with the ring of the doorbell.

You’re sitting on the couch when Marcus comes home and sits on the armchair right across from you. You’re eyes slowly shift from your phone to meet his gaze, he continues to stare down, his thumbs thrumming over his thighs.

It’s been an awkward couple of days after the argument you two had. Neither of you were brave enough to broach the subject, However, that didn’t mean what happened didn’t haunt you in the dead of night, both in a bad and a good way.

“It’s done.”

His words send a chill down your spine, your muscles tightening, “What’s done?”

“The case. We found who murdered Olivier. . . and how your notebook got there.” Marcus takes a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours as he begins to unravel the mystery that has been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud.

"Olivier's murder... it was someone close to him. Both rival and friend," Marcus starts, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. "Turns out, his friend had been eyeing the same collection for years. When Olivier outbid him for that prized painting, it pushed him over the edge."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of shock and sorrow swirling within you. Olivier, with his vibrant personality and passion for art, didn't deserve such a fate.

"And my notebook...?" you prompt, needing to understand how your own belongings ended up tangled in this tragedy.

Marcus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Olivier... he wanted to show your sketches to one of his friends. He thought you had real talent and he was planning on gifting you that painting."

Your heart sinks at the realization. Olivier, you’re going to miss him. Marcus wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support as the weight of the emotions you've been suppressing finally spills over. You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace a soothing balm for the wounds of the past few days. His touch is both reassuring and grounding, reminding you that you're not alone in this tumultuous journey.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his fingers gently tracing comforting patterns on your back. "It’s over now. You can return to your life and begin to heal."

“Heal?” you blin at him, lips parting. “Return to my life? What does that even mean? We can’t go back to normal Marcus. Not after everything. . . I—” You swallow, the knot thick in your throat. “I care about you, Marcus. I care about you deeply and I just want you to know that. I don’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. Ot that I did it because of the circumstances. I did it because I wanted to. And I wanted to long before any of this happened.”

As your heartfelt confession hangs in the air, Marcus's eyes soften, his expression reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. Without hesitation, he leans in, closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's a moment of shared vulnerability, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

The warmth of his touch ignites a spark within you, a reassurance that despite the challenges you've faced, your connection remains unbroken. In this intimate embrace, you find solace and hope for the future, knowing that whatever trials may come, you'll face them together.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a sense of renewal and possibility.

Marcus's hands move to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. You feel his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire within you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move fervently against yours, conveying the unspoken emotions that have been building between you for weeks. You can feel his heart beating against your chest and it's a comforting reminder that you're not alone in this moment.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a tingle in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, arching your neck to give him better access. His hands roam over your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Your fingers move to his shirt, desperate to rid him of the barriers separating your skin. His lips trail down your neck again, moving to your shoulder, his hands roaming freely over your body. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his hands reach your waist, pulling your shirt off. The cool air hits your skin but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating between you two.

Marcus and you remove each other's clothes. Your hands roam hungrily over his bare chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He moans softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra and gently sliding it off. Your bare chest presses against his, skin against skin, and the sensation sends sparks of pleasure through your body. Your lips meet again, his tongue moving alongside yours, his hands roaming lower to your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You push him down to the couch, your hands reaching for his jeans. With ease, you undo the button and slide them off, revealing his toned legs and the bulge in his boxers. Your fingers trail down his stomach, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

He flips you over, his lips moving down your neck and to your chest. With a flick of his tongue, he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan of pleasure. His hands reach down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs.

As his lips continue to travel down your body, his fingers slide into your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you. You can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs, the tingling sensation increasing with every touch.

In one swift movement, he removes your underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable to his touch. But with Marcus, you feel anything but vulnerable. In his embrace, you feel safe, loved, and desired.

And you know that is something that will never change.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x fem!reader #marcus pike x f!reader #writing commission #the mentalist fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic

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robolvrr · 16 days ago

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attention-seeker ミ⁠●﹏

transformers reactions to human modifications. (tattoos, piercings, hair-dye.) headcanons!

optimus prime, bumblebee, prowl. tfa.

sfw / suggestive under cut.

may do more of them, i love this show to death.

optimus prime

"you do this stuff... for fun? huh."

try as he might, he does not understand the point much.

don't get me wrong, i see animated optimus to be the closest to a mid-twenties rascal as you can get. modifications aren't unheard of for bots. he's not a nun.

however ...

he sees humans as still pretty fragile. so the idea that you like going and having needles shoved into your flesh and jammed through your muscle isn't something he can wrap his helm around at first.

primus forbid you have lots.

imagine him trying to process you explaining that yes, your entire back is covered in ink and you're planning on about five different piercings in the next year.

"so you. you plan on getting two on your back. just because?"

"that's the plan, big guy."

poor mech is lost. though he does enjoy learning more about humanity when he isn't stressing too much about saving it.. so expect questions.

when you suggest getting one of the autobot emblem, his circuits nearly fry.

prowl

"so, what's the significance?"

i see prowl not writing off the behavior as weird and instead digging for why you pursued this journey.

yes, he sees your tattoo and piercing collection as a journey, because that's what it is, isn't it? years of work and pain to adorn your body to your liking.

he knows that humans are bundled with nerves. there's respect earned. he finds humans to be eerily resilient.

will ask you the meaning of each and every one. piercings less so.

"what does this bird represent?"

"mm.. my sense of liberty."

"a visual representation of the wish to stretch to new horizons. how fascinating. being small in a vast universe with the urge to still explore."

"i also just like hummingbirds."

"mm. i see."

will get onto you once he finds out about the "makeshift" work. finds the mistakes or even forgettable craftsmanship to make you endearing.

bumblebee

"whoa! sick paintjob, human!"

he LOVES human culture. and you guys can just... change your appearance? count him impressed!

you had dyed your hair to a nice golden yellow to match his frame and he almost jammed his intake shut.

"you can just. do that?!? b-but your helm used to be-"

"hair, bee."

"right, right. it wasn't always that color though!!!"

he thinks it's so cool. real dork about it. totally buzzed out once you spoke about the chemistry that it went to the process though.

he thinks piercings are cute. after all the fusion of metal and organic is kiiind of taboo. you pull it off great.

tattoos make him beg ratchet to let him upgrade his paint. poor old mech is grumpy and over bumble whining him to just let him "get some flames and that's it."

you draw a lot of inspiration from him. will gladly brainstorm your next big change and puff his chassis out like a lil peacock knowing you're willing to get something permanent done in his designation.

nsfw.

optimus prime

"you look like a painting. primus above, you're gorgeous..."

optimus prime enjoys tracing your tats. he kisses the patterns and images as if the pain of the needle remains, glossa licking along thick and thin ink with shuttered optics.

he likes to see goosebumps trail after. kind of a weird fetish (?) but he mostly enjoys how reactive you are and how your inkwork ripples with the movement.

when he finds out your piercings can make you sensitive ...

well, good luck.

optimus at his spark of sparks is such a tease. when you continue to surprise him, it's nice to be in control of that mutual fascination for once.

"you enjoy when i tug.. these?"

nipple piercings.

expect his glossa. he takes special care to even lubricate each of his digits just to toy with your sore nipples.

prowl

"that's it. fall apart for me. just like art..."

prowl is observant. so when you let it slip that you've been holding back on some of what's on your body...

you're on his berth and naked. his optics are hidden behind his sharp visor.

"holding back on me? that's a shame. i thought you knew better than to do that."

is he angry? hardly! but his processor is about to work overtime when you stammer just why you hadn't gone into depth.

genital piercings.

he doesn't say anything for a long time. doesn't ask the millions of questions bombarding his thoughts. his servos do that speaking before he can.

let's just say you start to understand why he deals with tedious and delicate situations. those hands are built for... meticulous attention.

bites. all the areas with piercings. focuses carefully damn near to the square inch of sensitive flesh where it drives you wild.

tattoos? he loves to scrape his digits down em.

loves to doll you up in lingerie that accentuates everything you hide. crotchless, cut-outs exposing yourself until he can't see where the inkwork begins and ends.

robolvrr 2024.

#first contact au #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers optimus #optimus x reader #tfa #bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #tf prowl #prowl x reader #transformers animated #valveplug #maccadam #headcanons

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chimcess · 1 year ago

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A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed.

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me.

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from.

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free.

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen.

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it.

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves.

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore?

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone.

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5.

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail.

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea.

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate.

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool.

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back.

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person.

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick.

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well.

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too.

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs.

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me.

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment.

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights.

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything.

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless.

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked.

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before.

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when?

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly.

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain.

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief.

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer.

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. ��Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse.

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought.

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets.

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist.

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well.

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly.

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds.

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe.

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell.

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes.

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in.

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats.

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor.

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited.

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly.

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure.

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties.

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me.

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after.

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily.

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it.

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty.

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring.

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say. I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements.

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly.

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while.

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do.

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed.

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had.

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed.

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily.

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table.

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me.

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered.

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps.

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise.

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside.

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it.

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me.

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food.

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly.

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn.

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more.

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there.

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York.

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest.

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast.

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied.

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless.

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage.

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease.

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front.

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down.

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble.

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one.

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background.

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry.

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan.

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there.

Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something.

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture.

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease.

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room.

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus.

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be.

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything.

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched.

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me.

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that.

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt

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