#plot is revving up!

[blitzbuckz]

me waking up to deep throating lackey

I'M--

It's Sinday I have been blessed HHHHhhhh

[xanfeursel]

are we rockin with baby's second attempt at an evil durge run

[spock-adoodledoo]

oh my god i just finished the dark forest finally. 7/10 i suppose, i went through the first half or so of the book being really annoyed by luo ji but also enjoying the chapters where he shows up because unfortunately he was entertaining. still don't understand the imaginary girlfriend thing, it just feels like he needs someone to protect from the world which like ??? ok sure i guess, it just rubs me the wrong way personally. for the second half and especially the end i became luo ji's number one defender it's fine. for the rest, holy crap—the droplet, the microcosm of the universe on those runaway ships, the wallfacer project, luo ji drawing from rey diaz's plan, the attitude of the world towards him, the entire theory... wow

[reverie-starlight]

thanks for the tag... What's the weirdest plot bunny you've ever had? Bonus points if you never wrote about it

OOOOOH okay so I actually don’t think I have too many, because once I get an idea that I get really excited abt, I’ll write down the concept in my notes app and then start it asap, OR I’ll just do it in one sitting.

I’d say the most recent one that got published that I had thought about a concerning amount was the kuroo bday fic I wrote for 2023!! I got the idea and I had to start it immediately. It’s not a weird one tho I don’t think.

Currently I’m thinking of this one specific scenario for kaiser from blue lock that I really need to write, but again it’s not that weird…

honestly the weirdest ones I’ve had will never see the light of day because they’re. so extremely self indulgent back from when I was in high school. Peter Parker and PJO crossover with a self insert type of self indulgent. I wrote three versions of that during quarantine and never finished any of them LOL

(They’re still sitting in my notes app to this day and I reread them sometimes)

I also have multiple hyper-specific haikyuu fics sitting in my notes app from 2020-2021 that I’ve been debating giving snippets of on here. I’ll never finish them bc I personally don’t like writing the high school setting anymore, I usually stick to the time skip, but they’re a lot of fun imo.

[avesseloflanguage]

mildly and perpetually baffled by lauren gunderson's urge to add a failed/unrequited romance (that never happened irl) for her real historical female characters in her historical plays based on real historical times/events/women

[tojisteddy]

Ruthless

or: Country!Simon catches you attempting to tag his property, of course he has to teach you a lesson.

cw: 3.6k words, 18+ mdni, Country!Simon, alt universe, no use of y/n, some plot with smut, dub-con, spanking, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, age gap (Simon 29, reader 23), primal play & reencounter (if you tilt your head), pet names (little girl, city broad, lucky), fingering, lite pussy pronouns, degradation, lucky!reader

a/n: a scrapped Drabble turned into a full story cause I love plot

part 2!!! <3

You were running like your life depended on it.

It was dumb for you to even attempt to tag the Riley barn to begin with.

You knew that, your friends knew that, anyone in town would’ve warned you otherwise.

It all started with a little end of college fun, wreck havoc like the good ole days. Nothing out the ordinary. Something that supposed to be a silly little prank, saying goodbye to college and hello to adulthood by spray paint and a little egging.

Was it a little too much for your liking? Yes.

Just plain rude and disgusting because at the end of the day, what exactly did Ghost do to deserve any of this? But peer pressure is a nasty, annoying, bitch. Regardless of age.

The Riley Ranch had been rumored as evil and haunted, the only people who really interacted with the land being other farmers. Even when Simon Riley, the last standing of the family, came to church (on the rarest occasions), people kept their distance. Afraid his families “bad” energy would spread over to them.

They called him Ghost.

There was a fire at the families home, started by Ghosts father who was always in a rage. Your father made sure your family stayed clear of him when you visited, he wasn’t too kind to quote, ‘big headed, posey, no good, city slickers.’ No one thought his rage would grow so large into trying to kill his whole family.

No one one besides Ghost made it out that night, there was rumored to be a large burn mark on his back to prove it.

You’d gotten found too fucking quick, “What the hell do you think you’re doin?” His voice booming on the highway road.

Simon Riley was blessed to have ears like an owl. Heard the car pull up and stop on his property, the rumbling of the engine— a beat passes— the car doors slamming shut and the far off hushed giggles. Nothing new, people had passed his property to spook whoever the hell they were with. Try to show how “evil spirits” ran rampant on his land, even if they were, he hadn’t ask for them to be there. But they’d never stop. They’d do it before.

They’d do it again.

But he heard that can of spray paint shake and his boots hit the floor before he even realized it.

Not the brown farmhouse gate he’d spent so long sanding down as a child with the help of his grandfather. Not the white ranch fence he’d spend so long getting together as soon as the land was properly handed to him and in his name, that’d he hand painted himself and fixed up the grass so people knew better than to drop any litter there.

No fucking way.

Your friends were already in the mustang you’d arrived in, those bastards, revving the engine and zooming off. You dropped the can, more spray getting on the grass fuck, fuck, fuck— your brown eyes slowly looked up, meeting a more than livid pair blue eyes.

You wanted to squeak out, ‘im sorry’ but where would there be room for that? Not in between the ranch fence that already had a squiggly line and crooked smiley face with black spray paint on it created by yours truly. There would absolutely be no room for an apology when his face was already screwed up, jaw clenching from underneath the bandana that hid his face, eyes narrowing into slits.

Well duh, babe. Move those feet!

And you did, turning at a 90 degree angle and sprinting like it was the end of the world. Ghost mumbled a ‘god damn it’, and ran right after you, his boot quickly meeting a carton of unopened eggs.

Oh you were definitely in for it now.

You ran through the Egyptian wheat, tall as the eye can see, green leaves scratching your arms and legs. You prayed to God there wasn’t any crazy animals hiding in there. You were panting, taking a quick glance behind you and you could only hear rustling of the large plants that surrounded you, feet hitting the floor.

Then you heard a distant yell in the field, “[+], you get back here!”

Well it wasn’t exactly the hardest to spot you out, you looked like your mother— who looked like her mother. You came from a family known for actually being good people, never hesitating to help or providing when need be. You’d met Mr. Riley a couple times in your 23 years of life. Quick instances that you vaguely remember. But you knew his face, and he knew yours.

Your mom had been one of the few good people making sure he was well taken care of when he was younger, she couldn’t raise him like she had wanted to with having to travel back and forth from the city for work as a children’s author. But she’d made sure he was taken care of in whatever home he was placed in, encouraged him to join the Boys and Girls club, something to ground him.

“Just needs someone to look after ‘em is all,” she’d ensisted while braiding your hair one night before heading to meet him at his group home, fingers weaving through your curls with purpose, you were around eight. “Some kids need a lil extra love, show ‘em someone’s there for ‘em. Simon’s one of those kids, so is your older brother, even though he’s a pain in my side at times. They’re all good in their core— their heart. It’s important to have someone nurture it. Gods called me to do that.”

Though, the relationship strained when the foster system let him go. “He’s just having boy troubles. Boys go through those weird hormones when they hit a certain age. Wants to prove ‘imself as a man. They get real hard headed [+]. He’ll get over it ‘nd pull through. He always does,” she’d say. So certain. Undoubting. Like a sixth sense.

And Simon did manage well enough, clearly, for him to have a proper farm for himself, one that was properly taken care of and thriving. You’d visited with your mom two years back. It was so clear to you now. Your mother practically smothering him in a hug when she got close enough. Simon was awkward at first, but accepted it. His eyes and whole body softing by her touch. She’d been family when no one else would be.

He looked towards you, you met a gorgeous shade of blue, long blonde lashes to match his short blonde hair, face with a few noticeable scars and half his face hidden under a black bandana. You were standing a ways off so you couldn’t hear what he or your mother was saying, but you saw him nod toward you. Your mother saying something and him nodding in response. She waved you over,

“[+] you know Simon— I mean, Mr. Riley since you’re a grown man now, ain’t that right.” She laughed.

“Whatever you want ma’am.” He looks down at you and extends his hand. You take it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and give it a firm shake.

“Good seein you.” It wasn’t just words, he was sincere, caring. Like seeing an old friend.

You nodded, “ ‘S good seeing you too.”

He showed you the farm after that in his truck. The big house that was farther toward the woods, properly fixed after the fire a decade ago, the Egyptian wheat field, the horses and chickens and the new blue barn he was building to accommodate them, the horse training area used to break in horses no one else would. It was a lot of land, a lot of work, but you could tell by the sound of his husk voice, he was proud of himself and the work he’d been able to accomplish. Even more happy when your mom praised him.

It finally clicked: that barn— and right on time, you’d caught sight of it. Not the one Mr. Riley had been fixing when you visited, the old one. Large and in charge that had old wood, and was definitely falling apart. But you made a bee line for it anyway.

What other option did you have?

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, nerves on a high because you didn’t even notice how close Ghost was to you before you ducked so he couldn’t grab you. Kicking his shin and dashing towards the barn that was bones.

“You damn brat! fuck me!” He cursed, hopping to ease the new pain on his leg before running right after you.

You undid the large wooden latch, sliding the doors open and immediately trying to slide them close. But his hand shot through the opening, a shiver runs down your spin.

Up the steps you went, the only place you could go, and Ghost was right on your heels, quick, almost silent— didn’t call him Ghost for no reason. You tripped and fell on a pile of hay and wild chickens went fluttering and clucking down to the barn floor, clouding your vision. Next thing you knew, Ghost finally caught you. His hands grabbed hold of both of your arms as you rolled around and thrashed underneath him.

“You fuckin asshole! Let me go!” You grunted, trying to kick your legs where the sun didn’t shine but completely missing when the older man closed your legs, gripping them together under your knees in his hands. He had you like a pig about to be roasted.

“You ruin my property but I’m the asshole?” The fucking audacity of you. “Gonna teach you a fuckin lesson cause clearly they don’t teach you city folk manners.”

With ease, Ghost sat himself down on one of the old hay bails, bringing you over his lap. He grunts, keeping you as still as you can, and then like thunder— his large calloused hand comes down to your plump ass, echoing in the empty barn.

“Mr. Riley!” You gasp, your head shoots up, eyes widening— there’s no way- was he giving you a spanking? The next one yanks you out of your thoughts, brutal, harsh, that makes you scream his name again, “Mr. Riley, that’s enough!” But he’s completely ignoring you.

“Spray painting my fences,” SMACK!

“Tryin to egg my house,” SMACK!

“‘Nd Ruinin my fuckin crops?!” SMACK!

“You’ve lost,” SMACK! “you’re damn,” SMACK! “mind! little girl!” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

You’re crying and whimpering, as his hand continues forming ripples in your ass. You’d gotten one singular whopping your whole life, from your grandma for breaking her good vase when she told you no ball throwing in the house. Life altering from one incident that made you into the goodest girl there ever was.

And then there’s this predicament, one that ripped your soul in two. One half fueled with hatred for doing something so crude— so audacious. And then the other that’s struggling to keep itself contained. one more hit that meets your tender bottom, one that hits you in a place you didn’t realize was boiling over— a smack to the ass that forces an egregious moan out of your trembling plump lips.

Simon stills, his eyes flicking over the state of you. You’re shaking, head down and legs finally not kicking. But he sees the way you try to hide yourself further into his lap, because you and he both know you just moaned because of a little whooping.

Oh— you're crazy.

You’d unknowingly created a fire and Simon would add lighter fluid to it.

He lifts the bottom of your short flower patterned dress, just to peak, you jump but still, your heart pounding even louder than it had before. And it’s a sight for the man to behold— your underwear soaked like the damn ocean. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to bring the hands down to hide the slick that was ever growing.

“D-don’t look.” You sniffle. Too damn cute.

But there’s a snicker, something that makes you look back at him and his eyes are shining with mischief, “My god, you’re a filthy lil thang, aren’t’chu?” It’s almost rhetorical, he’s not asking you, he’s asking your cunt. “Didn’t know you city broads were like that, learn somethin new every day, don’t you?”

You yelp when he yanks your underwear down to your knees, thrashing around once again, but Simon keeps you still. Your pretty pussys glistening as bright as sun on water, slick all over your fat second pair of lips. He brushes his fingers against them, sending shivers up your spine, you cant help but arch further into his touch.

You whine, “Mr. Riley-“

“—Shhhhh, gotta hear her,” he murmured, slowly slipping a finger in your drenched hole. Your pussys practically sputtering out with every thrust of his finger, slipping another one and coating it perfectly. He takes them out, sucking up the juices on his tongue that you’ve left on them, spitting down on your hole before stuffing his fingers back into you. He hums in satisfaction as you lose your mind, “such a fuckin slut, you just get this wet for anyone, don’t you?”

Your eyes reach the back of your head, breath hitching, “Nooo, I don’t- I wouldn’t!— ooh- agh- Mr. Riley!” your interrupting yourself with your own moans. Whatever anger you had before, folding into nothing.

He finally let’s go of your hands and you grip on to his leg, nails clawing at his jean cover thighs. Your stomach tightens running away as your orgasm builds but Simon follows, thrusting his fingers into your gummy walls even more, curving them to find your sweet spot with determination.

“Eaaasy now, don’t want to hurt you. Be good ‘nd cum. Know you want to, make a mess all over me darlin’.”

And that’s all it takes, with a twitch and a squeal, your cumming all over his hand. Simon thrusts his fingers a couple times, watching the wave of euphoria wash over you before sucking one of fingers clean, then bringing the other to your mouth.

“Come on, don’t be fuckin uppity, taste it lil girl” he tsked, you take the middle finger in your mouth, tasting your own arousol, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly pulling your head back with a ‘pop.’ It all goes straight to the blondes aching dick.

You hear it, the unbuckling of his belt, your stomach touching the tint that had built because of you. your mind finally snaps out of the trance he’s got you in. You barley manage to get out of his lap, scrambling through the hay, tripping over your underwear, on your as knees. Giving Simon the perfect view of your tender ass and the slick that’s dripping down to your thigh before you turn when you meet a wall. Pushing yourself into it.

“We- shit- someone- someone’ll come!” You ramble out, panting, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm. Your eyes avert to anything in this barn besides the man infront of you. But he made his way over to you, slow, stalking. And once he’s on his knees and hovering above you, he springs his cock from from his boxers. The blonde is hung, large and girthy, his tip strawberry red and leaking pre cum.

He bends down, sliding his fat cock between your wet folds, and then smacking his tip on your clit creating a plap, plap, plap. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

“You want it don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, taunting you, goosebumps wave over your skin. “Don’t want me all the way,” he traces over your belly, and then pokes right where your uterus is, “up here, hm?”

“Don’t want me to make you feel good pretty girl? Don’t wanna feel it once?”

Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s pulsing through you, the way he’s looking down on you like you’re pathetic, dick crazed maniac. And maybe that’s exactly what you are, just once— you just want feel him stir your guts just. this. once.

“I do.”

And your soft voice is just enough for the brute to yank your legs open, Simon throwing your legs over his forearms and spreading your pretty hole open with just the tip. The man starts bullying himself inside the tightness of your pink walls.

He’s big. He’s too big. You hiccup, shoving at his shoulder while he’s splitting you in half, “Mr.Riley, ‘s so much! hicc- can’t. I can’t.”

He croons, slowly thrust more and more of his veiny length into you. “Come oooon city broad, thought you could take it? Don’t go runnin. Been runnin from me alllll this time little girl.”

“Bet you won’t do no shit like that again, ruining my damn property,” Simon hissed, smacking down your clit a few times. “Gonna fuck that nonsense outta that lil brain ‘f yours.”

“I won’t! I promise! Mmmph- I’ll be good! S-so good just for you. Always for you.” You mewled, one hands clawing at the wall behind you and other hand at his shoulder. He finally feels it, his cock reaching the very hilt of you, balls smacking your ass crack. The damn obscene sounds your syrupy pussy is making to keep him inside you, and his tip giving your cervix the messiest and he’s sure, the first kiss it’s ever received.

A baby.

You’d look so fucking sexy, being all plump with his fucking baby. He pushes your thighs back to you head further, jackhammering into your heat rough and mean.

“Five,” he mumbles, groping at one of your tits in his hand. Squeezing and kneading it like a vice.

“Wha-“

“You’ll give me five ‘f ‘em, won’t’cha? Make me a daddy.”

He’s talking nonsense, partially. Simon wasn’t dead set on five, he’d wanted a baseball team but he’d settle for whatever you wanted. One would do if it caused you too much strain. He’d take care of you and the baby, buy you whatever you asked for, have you sat on that back porch, in a rocking chair. Your hand on your full belly, watching him as he worked all lovingly.

Simon breath hitches, rolling his hips into yours with a grunt, fucking drunk at the thought of it. The thought of you, all while your pussy was squeezing on him like you were reading his fucking mind.

“C-christ almighty, I got lucky with you huh? A snug lil cunt like this deserves to be up filled up with my cum.”

You still couldn’t believe it, thee Simon Ghost Riley, was with you in this old barn fucking your brains out like you were fucking Eve in that damn garden, on top of a pile of hay. Both of you letting out moans and groans like animals that you’re sure anyone who stepped foot on property would be able to hear. It’s hot, and sweat is forming on both of your foreheads, your skin is sticky. Simon’s big balls hitting your ass every punch of his tip into you G Spot. both of your eyes hazy, stupid off the other getting off.

“Feel so gooood M-Mr. Riley! So much!” You keen, reach for the bandana hiding his face. He always pushes your hand away but then he remembers what you’re about to be— his lover, his wife— the mother of hic children.

“Mamma’s gotta know the face of ‘er children’s daddy right? pull it off.” And you do, tugging it. And god, maybe this whole ordeal got you lucky.

So damn pretty. A scar on his nose, another one at the end of his pink lips, blonde strands swaying everytime he ruts into you, “Mr. Riley’s sooo pretty,” you slur, talking to him like it’s some secret. You’re lucid in his cock, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure while you stomach coils up.

“Uh-uh, eyes on me city broad, look at me!” He squeezes your cheeks together, planting a fat kiss on your smooshed lips. He snaps his hips forward, and your head would’ve hit the wall from how good you feel. But Simons still got your pretty face in his hands.

“Gonna have ya allll bare foot ‘nd pregnant, waddlin yer cute ass ‘round here with a ring on that finger.” He’s telling you, as if this is already happened and he’s seein it with his own eyes. All you can do is moan at his words. You can’t even form a sentence at this point. Just nodding your ditzy little head while he gives you his dick.

“Gonna be a pretty fuckin mamma too, fu- shit baby, your pretty tits all full with milk for our kin— damn, you love the sound ‘f that dontcha? You can deny it all ya wont, but she’s achin for it.”

God, you are. She is too. You didn’t even know how greedy your pussy was being as he pistoned in and out of you, “Gonna— gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna-“

“-Yeah, thaaat’s it lucky, come all over your husbands cock.”

All you can utter is a ‘s-shit’ when your orgasm smacks you, your toes curling in your converses, thighs shaking in Simons hold.

The blonde gets you in a headlock, smooshing you down into the floor further, brushing your curls with hay out of your gorgeous face. rutting into you as your walls clamp onto him, begging for his all milk he’s able to give you.

Simon growls, and the strings of cum fill your womb. Your clammy bodies are still stuck together as he rocks the last bit of cum into. Mumbling while kissing your neck, “take it lucky it’s all yours. Gotta keep you nice ‘nd full if you’re gonna get pregnant.”

It’s quiet finally. The barn itself is old and creaks but you can hear the chickens right down the steps clucking, the cicadas chirping, the breeze passing through the trees. The only think you hear are his and your pants,

Simon scoops you up in his arms, adjusting your dress to cover the mess he’s created thats dripping down on that barn floor with every steps he takes.

“Mr. Riley, where are we- where are we going?” You hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. All you can look at is him, a little in shock, a little blissed out. The only thing your able to focus on is the handsome man holding you against his chest. The way his heart pounds louder as he looks down at you.

“To the house. It just won’t take after one go.”

a/n: a draft that’s sitting since last month. Luv you bubs. Can’t wait to write more country!simon

most recent masterlist

[grimmsbride]

▒ ❀ ̭͡⠀ ❛Blackout. Mohawk! Mark

summary.. you thought you had found some alone time with you, and your mighty little vibrator. but of course, all fun is always short-lived

tags.. canon-divergence (i have never written for mark or any of his variants nor have i read the comics, so, mohawk will be a little ooc and i apologize for that. also this ofc doesn’t really follow the plot of his dimension) / rough sex / overstimulation / he’s lowkey a dick / multiple orgasms / lowkey pain kink / reader is into everything ofc / light use of pet names / unrealistic descriptions of sex(?) /

authors notes.. i want to start writing for invincible and truthfully this is the first thing that came to mind. between mohawk mark and cap(?) mark, they will be written for the most cause imo they are the finest 😔. also please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.

The mental checklist cycled through your brain quickly as your eyes peered about your room. Door locked? Check. Music playing from your tv a little too loud? Check. Your fully charged, pretty blue vibrator waiting patiently on your bed? The final and most important check of all. Between work, school, and juggling a relationship with your beloved boyfriend; finding time for self-pleasure was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Of course, most of your sexual needs were satisfied by your partner— however, there was nothing like taking the time to yourself, easing towards your orgasm in solitude.

You tugged the bottoms you wore down, thumbs hooking onto the elastic of your panties in the process. In one fluid motion you tossed them off your body and onto the ground, dropping to your bed back first with excitement brewing deep within your tummy. You reached down for the little vibe, examining the hollow opening that allowed the most perfect suction.

You remembered getting the device randomly one night, even paying extra for expedited shipping— a clear indication of your own desperation.

A finger flicked out to press against the button, holding it for a moment before the little toy revved to life. Little, yet so powerful; varying in several modes that tailored to your needs perfectly.

You always started slow, lowering the vibe to your breast and allowing the suction to flutter over your nipple— it slowly hardening from the attention. Your lips parted, along with your legs, allowing your free hand to lower to your folds, petting the soft skin slowly. A breath escaped as that familiar feeling danced across your body, warming you up inside at a gentle pace.

You spread yourself open, lowering a finger over your bud and slowly rolling it into tight circles. Your hips instinctively caught onto the rhythm, twitching at every special turn of your finger pad on your sensitive clit.

Soon enough you were growing impatient, knowing at any moment family could knock at your door for some random inconvenience. With that said, you lifted the toy from your breast, lowering it down between your legs. It always took a moment for you to align the hole with your clit, eyes squinting as if trying to visualize the perfect angle.

But the moment you got it, the moment you felt those delicious vibrations right against your sensitive bud, you let out the softest moan, legs opening more as the pleasure grew.

Your finger pressed into the button, amping the power up to its second level, strong vibrations thrumming right against your clit. Your legs began to squeeze shut, hurried breaths falling from your lips as you began to etch closer to your orgasm.

You wanted to personally thank whoever thought of vibrators. As pathetic as that sounded..

Your head knocked back against your pillows, the tightening cord in your stomach nearly snapping when a familiar sound entered your ears.

“Babe, oh man— I gotta tell you what this gu—..”

In a flash you felt that pleasure melt from your body, your eyes peering open to spot your one and only Markus Grayson standing in your bedroom in all his glory. His glory being that godforsaken supersuit and the stupidest grin on his features.

Which only seemed to deepen the moment his eyes trailed down your body.

Curse you for forgetting to close and lock your window.

“What’s this?.. Having fun without me?”

You opened your mouth to speak, yelping as wind flew past you far too quickly. Mark was a blur for a moment before he stood still beside your bed, currently inspecting something in his hand.

You quickly realized that it was your vibrator, under his inspection.

“The fuck is this..”

“It’s—“ You moved to your knees, reaching out for it, only for him to hold his hand higher, cackling to himself. You gave an aggravated huff, hands dropping to your thighs.

“— a vibrator.. It’s a vibrator.” You murmured, trying to ignore the tinge of shame invading your form. Of course, the two of you have talked about masturbation, but toys were a different story. You’ve heard plenty of horror tales of men growing angry at their women for using them in the first place.

All that ego man stuff.. blah, blah, blah. And as much as you loved Mark, he was a man.. with a ridiculously big ego.

Your eyes slowly trailed up his body back to his face, watching the way an unrecognizable glint developed in his dark eyes. His gloved fingers tapped against the toy, fiddling with the settings, turning it off and on completely.

“A vibrator huh?..” Mark hummed, more to himself than you, gaze switching between the vibe and your features for a moment before a devious smirk pulled his lips.

Before you could think Mark was moving closer, using a hand to push you back onto the bed whilst the other went for your legs, tugging them open.

“Let me try.” The grin on his face deepened, reaching down with the toy towards your center. Clumsily, he forced the hole upon your swollen clit, eyes flicking back to your features as he amped up the vibrator.

Your hands clenched, lips parting once more to release a sharp moan. You weren’t alone anymore, released from the mercy of slowly building yourself up. No, Mark had selected one of the highest setting without a care, pressing it right against your already sensitive clit. Your legs threatened to close, hands falling to the bed and gripping your bedsheets tight.

“Ma—mark.. baby please— turn it down..” You whined out, gasping the moment you felt him twist the toy a little, the vibrations hitting your swollen bud at a different angle. Droplets of arousal trickled from your hole that fluttered around nothing, sliding down to your taint.

“Aww.. can someone not handle the little toy?” Mark mocked, twisting the little machine once again and giggling to himself at the high-pitched moans that escaped you. He rose himself high, face hovering close to your own whilst resting on a forearm.

“C’mon baby, you’ve had bigger! Don’t wimp out on me now.”

You couldn’t even dare to reply, far too focused on that band ready to snap in your stomach. Struggled gasps and moans continued to escape, as your legs tightened around his arm— as if trying to decide to push him away or keep him there.

Your decision was null the moment you came, hips rising into the air as you made a mess of his hand and your beloved toy. Your stomach ached, clit feeling raw from all the attention. Your body rested back onto your bed, attempting to calm yourself after your release.

Only to realize the vibrator was still stuck securely to your clit, not having moved an inch despite your orgasm.

You quickly back to fuss, reaching down at your partner’s wrist whilst a strangled, “Ma—mark, let me breathe..” escaped you.

But he didn’t budge, even pulling himself back to his haunches, keeping his one hand steady on the toy whilst the other went for your wrists, securing them into a tight single-handled hold right against your stomach.

“Oh, [Name], I’m not done. I wanna see what else this little thing can do.”

With two more presses, the vibrator was now thrumming at its highest setting, the sound of it on your sloppy cunt nearly echoing over your music— second to the whines and moans that you released.

Your mind was going blank, the pleasure teetering between bliss and pain in one fluid motion. Unlike the Viltrumite before you, you were only human— your stamina not being able to keep up at all. It was growing torturous the longer the toy played at your clit, yet you couldn’t escape. Even as you attempted to move your hands, Mark wasn’t budging an inch— nor was he fazed by the twitching of your legs, eyes so trained on your pussy he was currently tormenting.

It’s not as if Mark had an issue with you using the toy. Not at all, he found it quite amusing actually; you attempting to find pleasure in such a measly device— that couldn’t even began to compare to him at all. It was truly entertaining watching you struggle to keep yourself together, your moans and cries for mercy music to his ears after an already eventful day.

The man had things to share with you, like some idiot that tried to attack him from behind— however that could wait, until after he was satisfied with examining the limits of this little device.

“Such a fucking mess, you’re ruining my gloves, babe.” As cocky as ever, voice clear and loud so you could hear through the blur of your mind. You wanted to cuss at him, maybe tell him to fuck off and wipe that little smirk off his face. But you couldn’t— physically anyway, given any words were turning to jumbled mush that the man couldn’t make out.

Mark even had the nerve to tilt his head, pushing his ear a little closer towards you.

“Huh? What? You say something— I couldn’t hear it over all that moaning and whining of my name.”

If your hands were free you would smack him, but now you could only whine louder, trying your best at an annoyed pout, eyebrows clenched close together.

Mark quickly caught on, laughing to himself as he slowly moved the vibrator in circles on your clit, watching that anger dissolve from your face so quickly. Your eyes were glossy at this point, even rolling back to meet your skull as the pleasure thundered through your body.

And as quickly as it started, your second orgasm came even quicker; erupting from your body in shaky spasms. Your voice was etching on hoarse at this point, seeing white for a moment as you came undone so harshly it began to ache.

Your lover let out a boisterous sound, eyes trained on your messy cunt, your arousal trailing down to the bed, making a little pool of slick.

You panted heavily, struggling to keep your eyes open as they slowly lifted to Mark.

“Mark..” You were able to release, attempting to move your arms again, only to feel his hold tighten. You cried out, wiggling about in desperation.

“Ma—mark! Turn it off— fuck!” Tears of overstimulation were threatening to spill at this point, and in one swift motion you somehow were able to flip onto your stomach, scooting away from the man quickly.

Your face pressed against the bed for a moment, before turning to the side, releasing heavy breaths as your heart pounded against your chest. So focused on calming down, you couldn’t hear anything behind you at all.

Not the sound of Mark chuckling to himself.. his hands moving against his body, or even his clothes falling to your carpeted floor.

You hadn’t realized a thing until a familar hand was locking around your ankle, basically dragging you towards the edge of the bed and up onto your knees.

You rose to your hands, mouth open and ready to practically yell at him until you felt two things. His length prodding at your entrance, and that blasted toy finding your abused clit once again.

In one swift motion Mark was thrusting inside, leaving you unable to adjust with the vibrations buzzing against your swollen bud. Your hands nearly give out, nails digging into the fabric as tears began to stream down your chubby cheeks.

You could no longer form a single coherent sentence, voice switching between hurried gasps and a mush of his name, tangled with the loudest moans. Soon enough you felt his hips move, a bruising pace being set inside you, with little care for your overly sensitive pussy.

You felt Mark move, coming to rest his chest against your back whilst wrapping his arm around your body, leading his hand to gently grab your face— a completely contrast to how he has been ruining you for the past forty-five minutes.

“What a crybaby.. can’t even think straight can you, huh?” His lips pressed right up against your ear, hips flicking back and forth as he fucked you with no remorse. The corner of his mouth twitched, truly entertained by your reactions. The sweet wails you were releasing, the way your pussy clenched and clenched around his length, and how shaky your entire body was overall.

You sniffled and whined, hearing your love cooe as he slid his thumb over your skin. Once again, the only gentleness he’s shown you since he flew in.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? All this attention you’re getting, greedy little pussy..” Mark began to drill into you, now being the only thing keeping you sitting upright at this point. “Can barely handle me, yet you go out and buy this toy— isn’t that funny, baby? Hm?”

The man spoke to you so easily, fully expecting you to reply to the best of your ability. But you were only releasing whimpers, completely lost to the feeling that flipped between pain and pleasure.

Mark chuckled at this, pressing the toy just a bit harder against you.

“Guess you’re too fucked out to speak, huh?”

That was an understatement, truly. The word itself didn’t exactly describe how you felt. Your entire body was trembling, the two sensations of his dick and your toy eliminating any logical thinking inside your brain. You couldn’t care less about being too loud for your family or even neighbors, no, your entire focus collected into a single point, the orgasm that was rushing towards you extremely fast.

A mix of encouraging words and mockery was being purred right into your ear, followed by quick laughter with every cry you let out. Mark always enjoyed pushing your limits, especially in the bed room.

You were human, sure, but he didn’t care. He simply loved watching you struggle to keep up with anything he did, acting so cruelly only to praise you later on. A never ending cycle that he didn’t plan to change anytime soon.

“Clenching me like a fucking vice, you’re about to come aren’t you?” He questioned, fucking into you so deeply, his tip prodding against that spongy spot that caused stars to intrude your vision. The man listened to your whine, deciding to take it as approval to his previous question.

Mark grinned to himself, pulling back and allowing your body to land on the bed. Instead his free hand gripped your hip lifting you just enough to drill into that same spot perfectly.

“Go on then, come— soak the sheets while you’re at it.”

Your fingers dug into the bed, reduced to babbles as your sheets became soaked from your arousal, sweat, and tears. With blurry vision and muffled hearing you came undone, a prolonged bellow of his name escaping your aching throat. You jerked and jolted, making a mess of his cock and the bed beneath— just like he hoped.

The man’s hand smoothed across your ass, clearly soothing you as those sweet praises from his lips, continuing to chase his own orgasm. Moments passed before his hips stuttered, his load spilling into you, some trickling out from your stuffed hole.

You breathed heavily, feeling your body relax the moment the man pulled out and removed the still buzzing vibrator from your clit. You melted into the bed completely, caring less for the smell of sex and soaked blankets beneath you. Your legs trembled from the aftershocks, eyes closed as you attempted to catch your breath— and with that being your entire focus, you basically jumped out your skin the moment Mark’s hand fell to your thigh.

The man laughed, smoothing his fingers across your heated skin.

“Relax, I’ve finished my little test.. for now.”

“You’re..” You struggled to say, moving your head a little to glance back at your boyfriend. “— such a dick.”

The man grinned back at you, hands gliding up to your ass to grip whilst coming to hover over you, planting a kiss against your shoulder.

“I know. And I’m gonna be an even worse one the moment you catch your breath.”

[ateezlibrary]

pink slip (m) • smg

pairing: street racer!mingi x street racer!reader

tags/genre: street racing au (fast & furious-esque), smut with plot, lots of dirty talk, rivals to lovers, sexual tension, one bed trope but it's the passenger seat, mingi won't admit he's jealous, dom!mingi x dom!reader (this'll be fun)

word count: 6.8k words

synopsis: mingi says he's the best driver in the city; you'd strongly disagree. after weeks of post-race banter and spending a little too much time with another guy at the meet, mingi won't admit he's jealous—and you won't admit you like it ...

notes: 18+ content (mdni!). my best friend won't leave me alone until she gets her racer bf fantasy fulfilled, so here we are. enjoy!

it was near impossible to hear the sound of your thoughts.

the crowd surrounded the starting line like vultures, their cheering coupled with the bass thumping from speakers hooked up in neighboring car trunks. you smile to yourself in the driver’s seat of your nissan 370z, admiring the newly wrapped black cherry exterior. she idled with her usual hum, no bells or whistles that you needed to rev your engine for. after all, it’s not like you needed to compensate for something the way some men did.

mingi’s ’98 gt-r skyline, on the other hand, resounds off of the garage pillars with a deep-throated growl. everything about his car screamed loud—the throttle, the strikingly red paint, the spoiler. it was a bit much for your taste, but you knew he needed a car that matched him perfectly. he revs his engine once, taunting you to play into his game. with a roll of your eyes, you wrap perfectly manicured hands around the wheel, the hum feeding into the adrenaline pulsing under your skin.

the race is about to start just as it always does—everyone clamoring in the crowd over who they’ll place bets on, flag girls unfastening their bras for the starting line. your phone vibrates against the center console and you glance down, scoffing to yourself at the routine message you expected before every race against mingi.

[from: skyline] try to keep up this time.

now bitter at the mention of your narrow loss during your last race, you glance over at mingi and his broad, cocky grin. focusing on the exit of the parking garage that leads into the abandoned industrial complex, the noise grows quiet as you zero in on the flag girl that steps into the center. she’s perky, a dangerously bleached blonde with the tiniest miniskirt and crop top that leaves little room for imagination.

i’ll have to ask her where she got that skirt, is all you think to yourself as she lifts her hand in the air, lilac bra above her head at the ready. 

“ready!” she calls, the crowd cheering in response as if they were the ones about to take off.

“set!”

your grip tightens on the gear shift, foot tapping at the pedal as you keep the clutch disengaged. mingi’s engine roars beside you, eyes narrowed slits as he locks in.

“go!” she declares, lilac bra now left in the dust as you both launch out of the garage. the sound of the crowd grows distant behind you, now replaced with the scream of your engine and tires hitting asphalt. the course isn’t unfamiliar to you, a regular favorite when you and mingi would race.

like clockwork, you shift into second gear in one clean motion. the wind howls around you as the speed’s sheer force presses you into the seat’s leather. mingi hangs tight on your left, his car perfectly parallel to yours as you drive deeper into the complex of abandoned buildings. you can hear his gloating in your head, the way he tried so hard every meet to get under your skin and undermine your driving skills. it only fuels your rage—and your engine—as you pull past him, flames roaring from your exhausts as you trigger the nitro.

mingi does the same, and the shit-eating grin that graces your face reminds you that he’s probably cursing himself for not doing it sooner. the race continues around the complex in a roaring dance, waving and weaning through a mess of scaffolding and crumbling warehouses when you’re faced with one last turn to return to the garage.

he’s just milliseconds short of braking after you, throwing him a few feet wide as you barrel into the garage. your tires screech and echo throughout the floors, silencing as you slow to a stop and mingi pulls in just about half a car’s length after you. pulling your hair out of your face, your chest heaves as you fight to steady your breath. you don’t even take the time to look over at mingi, your eyes fixated at jongho as you await his confirmation.

biting down on his apple in hand, he chews through a final, “it’s hers.”

a contented sigh forces its way out of you, adrenaline pulsing against your veins as you pop through your sunroof with a resounding, “fuck yeah!”

the crowd hollers in response, your crew cheering from their section of the meet. you blow a kiss in their direction, graciously accepting the bottle of hennessy that yeosang runs over with to pour down your throat. the liquor warms your body, calming the nerves that had knotted your core before the race started. finally, you lock eyes with mingi.

he’s leaned against his skyline, clad in his crimson racing jacket that’s twin to his wrap. otherwise, his outfit is all black—much like your usual outfits of choice. to a stranger, you’d go together like it was nobody’s business. little would they know that there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d go for someone like mingi outside of a little friendly competition.

“what was that you said about getting used to losing to you after last weekend?” you call, cupping your ear in a mock attempt to hear him better. mingi scoffs, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head.

“getting lucky doesn’t count,” he answers, his own crew passing drinks around their section behind him as they tune into the banter.

“oh, i don’t think it’s ‘getting lucky’ when we’ve raced this complex … how many times now?” you pull yourself from the sunroof and step out so that you can meet mingi face-to-face.

he’s visibly annoyed, something that brings you a sense of accomplishment at the way you’re also able to get under his skin. yunho, his right-hand man, widens his eyes in anticipation for mingi’s response as he sips from his red solo cup.

“next time you want my attention, you don’t need to do all that,” he chides, making your blood boil. “just ask.”

“is this a really bad attempt at flirting or is this just how you cope with loss?” you ask, earning a chorus of ‘oohs’ from the forming crowd.

“could be both. multitasking’s one of my talents, you know.”

“apparently, driving isn’t.”

“damn!” wooyoung, another one of your crew members, calls out from the midst of the crowd and you fight against the smile that threatens to tug at your lips.

“careful, angel. keep talking to me like that and i might fall for you.”

“good luck. seems like you’ll need plenty of it before our next race.” with a coy wink, you wave goodbye to his crew and sift through the crowd so you can take your car back to your own.

you practically feel mingi’s eyes firing daggers into your back as you take off.

* * *

the next weekend follows the same pattern—the sun dips below the horizon, the garage lights come on, and the crowd begins to form. neon lights hover from the rafters, casting shades of blue and green over the modded cars that lined the center lanes in rows. there were no significant races expected for the night other than a handful of petty bets, meaning drivers were planning to spend the time dancing and drinking the night away.

not like they wouldn’t have done that, regardless.

the engine of your 370z hums as you pull into your usual spot, closest to the speakers and furthest from the entrance to the garage. most of your crew is already there, hoods propped up and liquor flowing as they pass tools with one hand and solo cups with the other. the air is warm when you step out, quietly admiring the outfit you’d chosen for the night—worn denim miniskirt (thank you, flag girl for the store recommendation), black crop top and your favorite leather jacket that matched your knee-high boots perfectly.

“supra’s looking nice, yeosang,” you call out, earning a wave from him with a wrench in hand as he hovers over the front of his car. “you’re gonna need to show me what you’ve done with the diff mounts.”

“for sure!”

“there’s our drift princess,” wooyoung cheers, handing you the bottle of hennessy. “or should i say, drift angel?” you toss him a dirty glance before throwing your head back and having a shot.

“call me that again and i’m walking off with your ecu. let’s see you try to race on foot.”

“pardon me!” he croaks, pretending to be hurt as he takes a sip of his own drink. “in all seriousness, i haven’t seen mingi tonight. his crew’s here, though.”

“probably nursing his hurt ego after losing last week,” you guess, the smile on your face triumphing over any real concern you might have had.

as if on cue, the roar of his skyline cuts through the music, wheels slowing to a stop as he pulls into his spot with his own crew across the lanes from you. he lifts himself out with a long stretch, one that makes him look a bit like a cat. his hair falls in his face in loose black waves and he’s wearing a black muscle shirt that keeps his arms on full display. you look for a second too long, something you notice as you tear your gaze away from him and back to yeosang’s description of the ignition coils he’d been installing.

the night carries on and you spend some time saying hello to other crews and to get updates on their latest mods. they’re all happy to see you, congratulating you on your win from the weekend prior. you feign modesty, hiding your gaze with a laugh. mingi keeps his eyes on you the entire night, even as he spends time doing the same.

now that’s something you didn’t notice.

suddenly, another engine’s roar cuts through the playlist and the music lowers as an unrecognizable car pulls in. the driver pulls to a stop just shy of your crew and your pores raise as you turn, now on high alert. everyone’s attention is captured by the newcomer, the chrome silver mazda rx7 a beautiful addition to the growing collection at the meet. you can feel eyes on you as you approach the stranger, about to confront them when wooyoung bolts out excitedly.

“seonghwa!” he cries out, fastening the latch on the hood of his own car before running over. the door opens, and a gasp slips past your lips unexpectedly. the driver—or seonghwa, you assumed was his name—was undeniably beautiful. his eyes meet yours behind a wispy curtain of black bangs, his gaze still piercing as he offers his hand to you.

“this is seonghwa,” wooyoung repeats. “he just moved to the city. he’s been into racing as long as i’ve known him.”

“a newcomer,” you reply, eyes never leaving seonghwa’s as you offer him your name. he repeats it, the sound of his voice like melting honey as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

“pleasure’s all mine,” he drawls, leaning against the side of your car. “wooyoung’s talked about you nonstop. told me you’re a real beast on the streets.”

“i get around,” you shrug, though the smile on your face almost hurts. “wanna see what i’m working with?”

“love to,” he answers, his smile twin to yours as he follows you to your 370z. the pair of you observe what’s under the hood, commenting on the nice work yeosang had done to help you tighten your turbo clamps. seonghwa hums in approval and props his hand on the edge of the fender, just shy of yours. not quite touching, but close enough for you to notice.

“yeah, she’s got a real nice turbo set up,” a voice interjects, and you grit your teeth as you whip your head towards mingi. he stands on the other side of the hood, arms crossed with a lazy smirk etched across his face. “shame it’s doing more for her ego than her torque curve.”

“funny,” you quip, turning fully to face him with a scowl. “didn’t sound like there was much of an issue with it when i smoked you last weekend.”

seonghwa laughs and your chest swells with pride. you can see the way that dogging on mingi in front of a newcomer hit a nerve. he sucks his teeth, his gaze darkening in the way that he glares back at you.

“like i said, lucky,” he bites back dryly. “let me know if you can do it again with this build when i’m done with my mods.”

“sounds like i’ll be okay,” you retort, stepping a little closer to seonghwa just to pry at mingi’s fragile ego even further. his jaw tenses, and you swallow.

“you know,” seonghwa interjects, glancing back at your engine bay with a smile, “she’s got a pretty clean set up.”

“figure anything’ll look clean compared to a factory rx7,” mingi replies dryly, and seonghwa raises an eyebrow.

“factory?”

“mingi,” you scold, setting aside your petty banter for one moment. seonghwa was a newcomer to the meet, which meant he was deserving of a fair shot at earning everyone’s respect without being subjected to ridicule by mingi. “don’t be an ass.”

“you heard me,” mingi answers, completely ignoring you in the process.

“well, which one’s yours?” seonghwa asks, folding an arm over his chest and tapping a finger against his chin. “no, wait—let me guess.” he pretends to scan around the garage, his gaze falling on mingi’s crimson skyline across the lane. “the skyline?” mingi nods. “i like the red. easy to spot in my rearview.” you can’t help but laugh at seonghwa’s insult and mingi huffs, the tension between the two men beginning to earn a circling crowd. 

“let’s test it, then,” seonghwa answers coolly, lifting himself from your fender and strolling to his own car just beside yours. he calls over his shoulder at mingi, “race me?”

for the next ten minutes, the tension crackles in the air as the two men line their cars up at the garage exit. seonghwa looks calm, collected in comparison to the rage that practically radiates off of mingi. you shake your head from your spot beside yeosang, taking another sip of your drink. you’d never seen someone beat mingi, save for yourself. you had to hand it to seonghwa—he had some nerve going up against one of the best drivers at the meet as a newbie.

“ready, set, go!” in a split second, a blue bra goes flying as the two men take off.

you knew mingi’s car like the back of your hand—he’d shown you himself the kinds of upgrades he’d made to his engine and it was a force to be reckoned with. on the other hand, you’d never seen seonghwa’s build and couldn’t imagine what was under the hood. they follow the traditional route for races throughout the complex, complete with the twists and turns that few cars had cut through in a time shorter than yours.

the garage is spared of any engine sounds for some time, music thumping when a flash of chrome reenters. you gasp at mingi pulling his skyline a split second behind seonghwa, his face like stone as the crowd surrounds them. if he were upset, he didn’t show it the moment he stepped out of his car and gave seonghwa a pat on the back.

“decent run,” is all he says, reclaiming his drink from yunho with a smile as he heads back to the corner of the garage with his crew. everyone seems dumbfounded for a moment by his reaction, a completely different response from when he’d lost races to you in the past. nonetheless, they all continue the party in full swing. seonghwa pulls his car back into the spot beside you, receiving a shot of tequila down the throat from wooyoung as his prize.

“impressive,” you call over to seonghwa, sat on the hood of your car with a bottle in hand. he grins, leaning over your hood so that he could get closer to you. “might need to take you up for a challenge sometime soon if you’re planning to stick around.”

“i’d like that,” is all he says, his eyes shifting slightly from your eyes to your lips. you feel your cheeks flush in response, glancing out the side of your vision at the way mingi had his eyes locked on you. in an effort to egg him on further, you giggle at seonghwa, leaning closer so that you were just a breath away.

“you’ll have to show me what’s under the hood,” you nearly whisper, looking up at him through your lashes.

mingi continues to glare from his corner, fighting against the rage that nips at his core. his drink is untouched, still in hand as his gazes remains fixated on you. the way you were in that little outfit tonight, his plans to tease you about your last race upended by an obnoxiously skilled newcomer. yunho senses the displeasure and leans against his shoulder.

“you good, bro?”

“huh? yeah,” is all mingi says, his eyes never leaving you. “all good.”

* * *

the next night, you opted to spend some time at yeosang’s garage to work on your suspension since he was out of town visiting his grandmother. his garage was peaceful, near an open stretch of land just outside of the city that you and the rest of the crew would do practice runs on. you admired the stars through the open bay doors as you worked under the headlights, a welcome break from the glaring leds.

the sound of an engine roaring outside throws you off, causing you to drop the wrench you were using to tighten another coil. cursing mentally, you put aside your tools and peer out of the opening to see who’d pulled up.

“yeosang!” a voice calls out, and you freeze.

what is he doing here?

“oh, it’s you,” mingi realizes, standing awkwardly in the doorframe with work gloves in hand.

“well, i’m not gonna bite,” you chide, pulling off your own gloves and moving over to him. “yeosang’s visiting his grandmother tonight. what’s up?”

“need him to take a look at my valve springs. he’s usually more light-handed than i am with them.”

“sure you don’t want my help?” you offer, already heading to his car before he can protest. “it’s not like i’m one of the best racers in our group or anything.”

“yeah, yeah,” is all he says, popping his hood for you to inspect. taking a closer look at his cylinder head, you almost immediately identify the issue with his valve springs.

“they’re fatigued,” you point out, noticing the wear-and-tear in his springs. “i’m guessing you might have put too much pressure on ‘em during the race yesterday. might want to replace them with tighter ones if you’re planning on getting angry and speed racing someone every time they insult old skyline over here.”

“what are you working on?” mingi asks, shifting his attention to your car instead. you scoff in disbelief at the way he shrugged off the way his ego crumbled the night before.

“trying to install larger injectors. need to sync it better to the new system.” you glance down at mingi’s engine, biting at your lip for a moment. “can i actually take a look at yours?”

slowly, mingi nods, as if he’s glad to take the attention off of his sore losses. he points out how he and yeosang worked on optimizing his fuel trims, the way that it was able to run his car more smoothly in turbo. that was an issue you’d run into before—it was difficult to keep your car consistently within a certain speed range when your fuel was less sustainable than in a car like mingi’s. he glances over at you, watching as you take in all of his information.

“matter of fact …” he trails off, glancing out at the dark expanse of open roads under the starry skies, “why don’t you test it out yourself? easier to feel it than me explaining it.”

“really?” you ask, a jolt of excitement at the idea of getting to handle a car as hefty as mingi’s. he almost smiles—really smiles—at the way you perk up at the offer.

“c’mon.”

settled in the driver’s seat, you suddenly feel a bit more nervous at the idea. mingi senses this, pulling your hand in his and over the gear shift. his hand is warm over yours, eyes focused on his odometer as you rev the engine. his voice is low, steady as he guides you into how to shift the gear so that you’d feel what he’d been talking about. your mind is muddled at his instructions, surprisingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours as you fixate on the readings in front of you.

“got it?”

“yeah,” you lie, shifting your focus to the drive ahead of you. like clockwork, you fall into the steady rhythm of shifting gears and listening to the differences in downshifting compared to your car. following the roads to the nearby lookout, you opt to test out how the shifts work on a curvier, steeper route.

mingi observes you in silence, the way that you confidently handle his car like it was nobody’s business. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you bite down on your bottom lip in focus. there’s something magnetic about it, the way you almost tame the beast that his car is. he was no stranger to loving the way handling his car felt, but seeing you do the same with such ease did something to him. his chest tightens for a moment as you round the corner, sparing a glance in his direction with a satisfied grin.

you bring his car to a stop at the edge of the lookout, city lights blurring into a myriad of twinkling stars down below in the valley. it was usually empty around this time of night and was a place you loved to come up to on your own. you lean back against the driver’s seat with a deep sigh before stepping out into the cool night air.

“she rides like a dream,” you comment, earning a raised eyebrow from mingi as he follows you to the front of the car.

“was that a compliment?” he asks, finding a seat on the hood.

“i’m complimenting the car, not the driver.” boldly, you take a seat beside him and continue to look out at the city.

“still can’t admit you like me,” mingi drawls, leaning back and placing his hands behind his head. he glances over at you, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes that you weren’t about to back down from. “it’s okay, angel.”

“i like watching you try hard to impress me,” you hum, trying to ignore the way that his hand over yours felt just moments prior. heat radiates off of the hood, a welcome warm embrace from the cold night. mingi rolls his eyes, turning his head to you.

“didn’t realize i was trying.”

your thigh grazes against his as you sit up, ignoring the way it sent a shiver down your spine. of all the weekends you’d spent at car meets together, bickering and going at each other’s throats, you’d never stopped to weigh the realities of what your connection to mingi was. you both were hotheaded, both cocky and full of yourselves.

“mmm, you were. trying so hard to race me all the time. the staring.” mingi’s eyes widen ever so slightly and you chuckle.

“i don’t stare.”

“you definitely do.” you lean closer, dying to push his buttons yet again. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous of seonghwa yesterday.”

“of what?” mingi scoffs, his gaze shifting as you watch the thoughts race through his brain. “his rx7? he can keep it.”

“so, it didn’t bother you the way he was with me for the entire night?” you ask, finding newfound ammo in the way that you were able to make mingi jealous. whether it was because of some sort of feelings for you or sheer pride yet again, you didn’t know. you didn’t care.

“not when you’re on the hood of my car tonight, angel.”

“sure,” you scold, rolling your eyes and landing on the compression shirt that hugged mingi’s torso near perfectly. you look back up at him and notice the way his eyes had grown darker.

“what’s that look for?” you ask, smug. “you starting to sweat, mingi?”

“doesn’t faze me.”

“i suppose,” you murmur, eyes dragging over his face and lingering just a second too long on his lips. “but it gets under your skin.”

his jaw tightens. “very funny. keep testing me.”

“is that a threat?” you ask, unflinching as you hold his gaze. mingi exhales slowly, frustration evident on his face.

“you act like you’re so untouchable.”

“well, no one has,” you say, finally looking back out at the city as you brush your hand against his side in a movement that could either be a warning or an invitation.

“you just want someone to chase you.”

you arch an eyebrow, heat radiating from more than just the car at this point. your stomach tightens at the thought of mingi growing more frustrated, his muscles tensing beside you. it was a dangerous line to cross, one that you hadn’t even given much thought to beyond shattering his ego. “isn’t that what you’re doing?”

he sits up, his lips brushing against your ear. this is the closest he’s ever been to you, skin on skin aside from working on cars together (and the one time he’d held your jaw slack while wooyoung poured more tequila down your throat than you could recall). your heart pounds against your chest, almost like it’s threatening to escape. his body is warm beside yours as he leans in to you with a humorless laugh.

“chasing you?” he scoffs.

your smile doesn’t falter, fire still thrumming against your veins. “maybe you’re just worse than you think at hiding how much you want me.”

his laugh is low and sharp now, more breath than sound. you feel it more than you hear it as he lowers his gaze at you. “you just love running your mouth, huh?”

“you gonna do something about it?”

there’s a pause, your question hanging in the air as it pierces the tension you both have been dancing around for weeks.

hunger flickers across his face and his hand snakes around your waist, the other coming up to wrap firm fingers around your throat. it almost as if he wants to convince you he’s in control. he pulls you back against him, your spine arching slightly as his chest presses flush against you with ragged, uneven breaths.

“you think you can handle it?”

“i’m not scared of you.” you laugh, but you can feel how hard he’s breathing against his restraint. “just trying to see if you’re all talk or not.”

“get in the car, then.” his grip tightens and for a split second you feel him hard against your hip. the sensation makes you swallow as you feel his lips brush against your ear again.

“say please.”

mingi’s hand finally drops from your throat, only to grab your wrist as he hauls you off of the car after him. before you can catch your breath, he opens the passenger door and pulls you onto him as he settles into the seat in one swift motion. your knees dig into the cracked leather on either side of him, now with your hands on his neck. his palms instinctively settle on your thighs, forcibly pulling your weight against his. the friction lures a breathy moan out of you and a dark chuckle out of mingi. he shifts slightly, grinding his hips up into you hard enough to make you gasp. he smirks at the feeling of your nails pressing into the back of his neck.

“had plenty to say on the hood,” he snarls, lips barely grazing yours as he speaks. “i thought you—”

he’s cut off as you rock your hips against him, hands snaking to grab and pull his hair so that he’s forced to tilt his head back. the sound that he lets out is pathetic, something that sounds more like a whine than a groan. you scoff and press further into him, his cock hard against his jeans. his chest heaves as his hand leaves your thigh, reaching for the back of your head so that he could pull you close and capture your lips in a heated, messy kiss.

his lips are soft against yours but he is anything but. his tongue slips into your mouth, hands tangled in your hair as he presses against you. the friction becomes almost unbearable as he pulls away, catching your bottom lip in his teeth.

mingi laughs under his breath as you pull away from him, eyelids heavy from lust as you fight to meet his gaze. “out of breath already?”

“you’re the one making all those needy little sounds,” you coo, gasping at the feeling of his fingertips creeping up your thigh in slow, deliberate strokes. he gets dangerously close to your core, prying at the hem of your shorts so he could feel you through your panties. his fingers draw painfully slow circles around your clit, forcing you to jerk your hips against him.

“right,” he scoffs, relishing in the way you grind against the smallest of touches. “me.” mingi uses his other hand to pull you closer, his lips meeting your ears again in a desperate groan. “let me hear how good it feels, baby girl.”

finally, you comply after restraining yourself beyond the friction you allowed yourself. you let out a whine as his fingers brush against the hem of your panties, dancing between skin and fabric as mingi raises an eyebrow. he knows he’s getting a reaction out of you. even worse, he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one causing it. you bite down on your lip, fighting off another moan as you glance down at him.

“finger me,” you coax in what’s more like an order, savoring how his pupils blow wide as you play into how filthy he’s acting. his lips part slightly, his breathing still ragged as he grabs your underwear in a fist and tears the fabric apart. you’re almost ashamed at how much it turned you on—almost. he retreats and extends his hand upwards, watching as you latch onto his fingers and glide your tongue along them obediently. groaning at the sound they make as they leave your mouth, he slips them into your folds without hesitation. 

your body trembles at the feeling of mingi’s fingers sliding in and out of you, pumping and curling at the right spot every single time. his thumb presses against your clit and your eyes nearly roll back, head hanging at the sensation as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“fuck, you look so good riding my fingers like that,” he groans, moving against the rhythm of your hips that began to buck against his hand. your mind is clouded from the pleasure, the car window growing foggier from where your hand was pressed to keep you steady. “such a good girl.”

mingi continues his pace, hitting the right spot over and over again so that he can earn another moan from you. you can barely form coherent thoughts, your body moving on instinct. he shifts slightly, free hand cradling the back of your neck as he says, “think you can take more?”

you scoff at his bravado, slightly—but not visibly—disappointed at the removal of his fingers. you grab his wrist, bringing his fingers back to your mouth and tasting every last drop of yourself. his eyes are hooded with desire, tongue darting at the corner of his bottom lip as he watches you.

as you finish, mingi lifts you off of him and steps back out of the car. you glance over at him, not skipping a beat as he gets onto his knees, denim on asphalt as he pulls your shorts off. he leans in to draw circles around your clit with his tongue, humming contently as he laps up how wet you’re getting under his touch. you pull your thighs together, his head flush against skin as he slips his tongue in deeper.

“fuck, mingi,” you call out breathlessly, grabbing at his hair with desperate hands as he lets out a low chuckle against you. the vibration causes you to arch your back in response, in need of more of his touch than his fingers or tongue. he gets the hint, pulling away and brushing his tongue across his lip with a slick grin.

“you want me to fuck you?” he asks, lifting himself off of the ground so that he hovered over you once more. you meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowed stubbornly.

“i’m not going to say it.”

he reaches for you again, pressing rough circles against your clit as you writhe under his touch.

“say it.”

“i—i won’t—fuck!” he’s got three fingers slipping in and out of you at this point, eyes wild as he looks down at you expectantly. trembling against the seat, you gasp down air in shaky breaths as you finally cave in. “okay!”

mingi pulls out again, hands now reaching to unfasten his jeans as he slips his belt out of the loops. he looks down at you for a moment, his own chest heaving as he steadies his breathing. before you can get another word in, he’s had you turned over onto your stomach and your hands outstretched towards the driver’s seat. his weight presses firmly against your back, his arms surpassing yours as he fastens his belt around your wrists and the gear shift. he pulls on it as tightly as comfortably possible, your hands unable to shift from their position.

“seriously?” you ask, face down and ass up on display for him as he slides off of you. he frees himself from his boxers and you almost pity the fact that you’re faced away from him and unable to see what he looks like. you just know he’s big.

brushing the tip of his cock against your entrance, you can hear the strain in mingi’s voice as he calls out to you.

“hold on, baby girl.”

before you can reply, he’s shoved himself into you in one swift motion. you were right, he’s big—even so far as to say too big. he doesn’t ease himself in, going at a rough, steady pace without question. your nails dig into the leather of the gear shift, filthy moans and gasps slipping past your lips at the way he’s pounding into you. you can barely hear anything over the sound of your own pleasure until mingi lets out a string of deep-throated groans, telling you how good you feel on his cock and how badly he wants to keep fucking you.

he grips the roof of the car with a frustrated groan, his other hand on your hip as he steadies you to drive deeper into you. the car rocks with every thrust, creaking under the weight of mingi’s force as he can barely keep himself upright. your mind flickers briefly to your previous banter with him, the tension that grew and grew until it combusted with you getting fucked stupid in the passenger seat of his car. you don’t even consider if someone is watching, and frankly, you don’t care at this point.

“god, i’m gonna cum,” you cry out, legs shaking as you feel his hand press against your stomach. you feel every inch of him thrusting in and out of you, the sound of his moans mingling with yours and clouding every rational thought in your mind.

“that’s it, baby,” he groans, his own pace starting to stagger. “cum all over me.”

mere second later, you feel the weight of the impending climax fall apart as you cry out, twitching and trembling from the way mingi thrusts even harder to urge you to ride out your high. your legs shake under his weight, weak from hypersensitivity as mingi continues to fuck you.

“i’m not done,” he says, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face as he says it. his pace returns, harder and deeper than before. you’re overly shaken at this point, moaning every time his hips meet yours and your clit feels friction. he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, unleashing a final stretch of deep thrusts until his own orgasm finally approaches and a low, guttural moan slips past his lips. he’s dripping by the time he pulls out of you, settling himself and hurrying to his side of the car to unbind your wrists.

“thank you,” is all you mutter, reaching for your discarded shorts on the asphalt and ignoring the feeling of them against bare skin as you remember that mingi tore apart your panties.

the two of you sit in silence for a moment after getting dressed and settling, looking out at the city lights and the peaceful night that was a stark contrast from the kind of night you just had. mingi glances over, same as ever with his cocky grin and his hands lifted behind his head.

“hope you can come up with a few more compliments now than just my car’s mods,” he teases and you roll your eyes as you’ve finally come down from your high.

“we’ll see.”

[hannieween]

a date with the devil | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: gang leader jeonghan, bad boy jeonghan › genres: smut (18+) › word count: 26.1k

› warnings READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️: shamefully stole a line from the show daredevil, gore, guns and other weapons, blood, injuries, descriptive violence, dub con, glamorized gangster shit, toxic and dark themes, cheating, yandere undertones, jeonghan is a jerk in the beginning, smut with plot, dirty talk, hard dom jeonghan, really subby reader, pussy drunk jeonghan, spit kink, degradation kink, voyeurism, some praise kink, impact play, instant love, fucking with clothes on, multiple unprotected p in v scenes, cumming on skin, creampies, fingering, breeding kink, pull out method, creampie, possessive jeonghan, manhandling rough fucking with love, dumbification, hannie is kind of insane and reader is too, backshots. brat taming: orgasm denial, spanking, humiliation. use of the word slut, pet names: baby, baby girl, good girl, pretty, sweetheart (hers) sir (jeonghan)

› 🎧: kazino – bibi | honey! – tabber ft. dean | control me – colde | bubbly – ethan low | i need you around – yugyeom ft. devita | movies – devita | 007 – tabber ft. syd | ghosts – highvyn | the killa – txt | hold me – hojean | shut the fuck up, that's mine – tabber | bonnie & clyde – dean

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂 › author's note: hey! hello! hi! this is the second part of my hannieweenfest/kinktober! this has been really fun so far! this is super self-indulgent — like i didn't even plan for this to reach these many words. so, i hope you like this! buckle up (●'◡'●) › author's note: big thanks to booki @kwanisms for helping me come up with seungcheol's nickname 🙂‍↕️ › another author's note: some bits of this are rushed and i apologize. tumblr is a bitch that did not let me expand on my ideas as i wanted to 😭 it's not thoroughly proofread but pls enjoy

› one, double-crossed

THE WALK FROM YOUR APARTMENT TO THE WORKSHOP WAS THIRTY MINUTES. You hugged yourself tightly as you hastily walked on the sidewalk, shooting a glance both ways before crossing the street, high-heels clacking at your wake.

Aside from the few incoming cars and the trucks that stopped by every corner to collect waste, the night was quiet. If you kept your pace, no one would see you. If no one saw you, no one would care that you were gone for the night.

You kept on the sidewalk, going under a bridge, the echoes from the upcoming cars rattling your head. Dull, pale streetlights blinded your vision as you tilted your head skyward, trying not to miss your step. God, what am I doing? But before you could try and justify this, you quickened your pace.

Reflecting was not going to work. It never does with these guys.

You recognized Kim Mingyu by the dark matte helmet he was taking off. His fingers unclicked the strap beneath his chin, placing his hands at the sides of the helmet to pull his head out. He let out a relieved sigh, mouth falling open as he ruffled his long dark hair.

His gaze found you at the clacking of your quick footsteps on the concrete. “What are you doing here?”

“You could at least say hi first,” you snapped, stopping before his Kawasaki Ninja. A black powerful bike, sleek, elegant, and faster than a race car.  

He was known for the loud revving that swept through the streets at night. You knew him, however, as one of the gang’s most trusted members. Quick-witted. The muscle of the group.

“What I’m going to say to you is goodbye,” he hissed, darting his gaze around, making sure you were indeed alone. “You can’t be here.”

“I need to go inside. Do you know what will happen if someone sees me here?” you retorted, leaning closer to the bike to no use. The man was so tall you had to keep your chin up to look at him in the eyes.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he whispered sharply. He snapped his head to his side, motioning to the other way. “Now, go home. You’ll find nothing here.”

You huffed loudly at him, rolling your eyes. “All of you are so useless.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Mingyu said through his teeth, making it hard for you to listen. You were already turning away, walking down the side of a building.

A row of motorbikes were parked outside the workshop, making it seem like the place was packed inside. But as you passed by, the shutter doors were rolled up so you could get a quick glimpse inside. Vernon, the guy that gathered intel on the streets to communicate for the gang, sat alone on a rusty old couch, sipping on a can of pop.

The man arched an eyebrow at you, but remained quiet, his eyes following you as you passed the entrance and turned to the back of the building, where you heard the real workshop was.

As soon as you pushed the door open, you knew that you should have not walked in there. All your confidence, all your determination to get this done, dissipated in a second. The room was dark, smelling like grease and something else that made your nose itch. 

Jeon Wonwoo stood up abruptly the instant he saw you come in, the loud noise of his chair falling making you jolt. “Get out of here,” he snapped.

“Where is he?” you asked, keeping your tone as flat as possible.

Wonwoo was someone who made you nervous naturally, being the one that was known to be the gang leader’s second in command. The one that aside from being a drug-runner, moonlighted as the gang’s spy. 

“Get the fuck out,” he muttered, taking two big steps your way, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you to the door.

You tried to slap his hands off you, “No, tell me where Seungcheol is.”  

At the sound of his boss’s name, he retreated willfully. “In the back,” he replied, bewildered. “Why are you looking for him?”

“I need to talk to him,” you muttered, your voice breaking a bit. “My sister has gone missing, and I think he knows where she might be.” You read his gaze, just as he was reading yours. “Didn’t you know she’s missing?”

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo said under his breath. And in his confusion, he made a mistake.

Jeon Wonwoo, the guy you knew to be sagacious, flashed a look at one of the doors to his left. And that is where you turned your next step towards.

“No, wait,” he muttered. “Fuck!” he exclaimed quietly as you turned the doorknob and pushed through. 

It was a storage room. One wall was covered with industrial racks holding duffel bags. There was a table. You were not sure what you had thought you would find as you took in your surroundings. But you found the smell that was caused your nose to itch.

There were two men in the room. One was sitting far back to where you stood. He had short black hair, a fringe that sit parted on his forehead. The other, closer to the entrance, had pale blond hair, long enough that the front strands reached his cheekbones. 

This was Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol arched one eyebrow at you in the doorway. “Can I help you?” he spoke slowly, motioning a hand at Wonwoo who was standing closely.

The man exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Y-yeah,” you croaked, finding your voice. “I want to talk to you,” you sent a meaningful look at a man sitting across from Seungcheol, implying you needed to talk alone.

Yoon Jeonghan sat on the other chair. He rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand. His brown eyes were expressionless, but you knew he was known to be like that. The book-keeper to the notorious boss Choi Seungcheol, his best friend and confidant.

“What about?” now he was raising both eyebrows, not noticing your unspoken message.

“Ki-ki…” you stuttered, looking between them nervously.

“Eh?” Seungcheol made a face of annoyance. “Why are you here?” he asked with a heavy tone. “You know you can’t just walk in here, you know that, right?”

Seungcheol placed the dismantled gun on the table, throwing the dirty rag on its side with a frustrated sigh.

Oh, you were well aware that you could not just walk into Seungcheol’s workshop and expect to come out scatheless. Or to come out of there at all. Choi Seungcheol was unnerving, intimidating. He had a reputation of being ruthless and calculated, once wiping out a whole gang in a single night, earning the nickname The Shadow of Daegu.

Part of his reputation also stemmed from the fact that not a single gunshot was fired. He handled everything with his hands.

“You’re so damn clueless,” Seungcheol hissed, reclining back on his chair. “Look, kid,” he quirked up a thick eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re not going to find anything in here.”

“I… I…” you searched for words, you had a whole thing rehearsed. But once standing upon The Choi Seungcheol, stupefaction swallowed you whole.

“Go,” the blond-haired man sneered, crossing his big arms over his chest. “And don’t come back.”

“I need to know where my sister is. Kiki’s been radio-silent for three days,” you blurted, your voice airy as if you had just used all of the air in your lungs to get those words out.

“And you presume I know where she is?” Seungcheol paused, linking his fingers together and placing his hands on his middle.

You made a motion to step closer but stopped short when the man bristled. The other man did not move, he did not speak, and you were sure, he had not even blinked. “No, but Hyunjun does.”

Seungcheol sent his gaze around the room as if looking for his fucks to give, shrugging. “You’re failing to make a point.”

“I think Hyunjun suspects I want to leave him,” you said through a ragged breath, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You knew you were on the brink of falling into a panic attack. “And he won’t tell me where Kiki is. I believe he’s holding her hostage, so I won’t break our engagement.”

“Ever heard of a lawyer? Some common people could handle that for you,” Seungcheol arched one eyebrow.

“You of all people know that won’t fucking happen,” you spat, crossing your arms to show some assertiveness, but deep down you were doing it to hold yourself together. “I do that, and he kills her. I won’t even get close to finding someone who even wants to go against him.”

“Again, the point,” Seungcheol punctuated, lowering his face but keeping his heavy gaze piercing your face.

“I want you to kill him.”

Seungcheol did not pause, scoffing right away. “One, you have balls to come here,” he sneered, lip curling slightly over his perfect set of teeth. “Two, who the fuck do you think you are to boss me around? And three, I don’t know how you found this place, but I do want to see you getting the fuck out of here before things turn drastic.”

You were used to receiving threats, almost daily, but being so worn out over Kiki’s disappearance had made you more irrational than you would have liked to be in a place like this.

“Please,” your voice brimmed with sorrow to the point that your limbs had started to tremble. “I’ll do anything.”

“Why don’t you kill him yourself?” Seungcheol drawled. “Why should I get my hands dirty?”

This is not going according to plan. Between the buzzing in your ears and your pounding heart, you knew something was extremely wrong. This is supposed to be Hyunjun’s rival, the only person in the whole city who would want him dead.

Seungcheol sat up straight, the foldable chair creaking underneath his weight. “Now go, before I have you removed,” he shooed at you with his hand, grabbing his gun and the rag to continue cleaning it.

You stood there, hopeless, helpless.

One thing that bothered you was, Yoon Jeonghan stared at you the whole time. Even as your tears started to roll down your cheeks, he stayed cold, expressionless. You were sure you had not seen him blink even once. It was as if he might miss out on some important detail. But you were the only thing to look at, nothing interesting.

You were crying, sobs broke from within you, flooding the room. You were sure you looked lost, like a kid that just lost a parent in the open street.

“Wonwoo,” Seungcheol called, eyes set on his work.

“Yes?” Wonwoo opened the door, and something told you he had been standing behind it the whole time.

“Show her out,” Seungcheol pointed at you with the tip of his nose, while his hands worked on putting his gun together. “And check that no one followed her here.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo said, his hand grabbing you by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

“No, wait!” you cried out, face tearstained. You grabbed at the door frame, holding on for dear life as the man switched his grip from your arm to your waist, dragging you out of the room. “Please!”

“Fucking hell–,” Wonwoo grunted, managing to lift you by the waist, letting you go once you were out of the workshop. “I fucking warned you.”

“Let go, let go, let go,” you banged your hands on his hard chest, just as his hands released their tight grip on your waist with little to no care. As if he were disposing of something grimy and nasty.

“Go home,” he said, looking back to make sure no one else was listening. “Why the fuck did it occur to you this was a good place to seek help?”

“You won’t understand,” you plastered your palms against your cheeks, wiping your tears. “No one will.”

“Go home,” he reiterated. “And watch your back.”

You knew he did not mean to watch your back from him or any of Seungcheol’s people. You raised your teary eyes to find his cold stare. “He will kill her,” you declared with a sorrowful tone. “And it’s all my fault.”

“You knew what you were getting her into when you got engaged to someone like Hyunjun,” he murmured, and even if his statement was dull, there was some pity shining in his eyes. “Go.”

You turned on your heel on the wet pavement, walking away from the workshop. Wonwoo’s words resonated in your brain with each step you made, turning the corner and then into a deserted alley, deciding to wait.

There was nowhere to go now. You could not go back after crossing enemy territory. Even if Hyunjun did not know where you were, he would wonder why you even left the apartment.

If he started suspecting your plans were afoot, you were for sure a dead woman.

Wonwoo was wrong. You did not know what you were getting yourself into when you got engaged two years ago to that monster. You knew what he dedicated his time to, of course. But you did not know how insane he was when he proposed to you, and you said yes.

Even then, you did not have a choice.

› two, damned if you do

This part of the city was usually safe, and quiet. You wondered if Seungcheol and his gang made it so that no one would suspect that this was where his headquarters were. The workshop was found between a butchery and a flower shop, so it made sense for the place to be in this section of the neighborhood. It was the least place they would find suspicious.  

It was a Monday night. The only people strolling by the streets were people going back home from work, not noticing you hiding in an alley. Even if they did, no one would care.

You banged the back of your head on the wall repeatedly, trying to come up with a plan. “Think, think,” you whispered into the midnight air. It was fresh with light rain, droplets of water falling on your head.

The loud roaring of engines announced them before you even saw them pass by. One by one you counted, one, two, and another two motorbikes running down the street, turning left and, you assumed, into the heart of the city. A big black SUV rolled on closely behind them, making your heart drop, that was Choi Seungcheol’s van.

You tried to become one with the wall behind you, pressing yourself into it. You shut your eyes tightly as the sound of wheels rolling on the sidewalk came closer. Vernon skillfully skateboarded down the street. Even if the pavement was wet, the man did not slow down or go on foot.

The moment he disappeared from your view, was when the second part of your plan started rolling. Granted, it felt more like you were improvising, but you needed to do something.

So you went back, hating every second as you rushed to the workshop again, going to the back of the old building. With Vernon, Mingyu and Wonwoo being gone, you had a chance to open the door freely, finding a place to hide.

The first part of the workshop was just that, a simple space for mechanical repairs. There were two doors, one where you had your conversation with Seungcheol, the other you assumed was a washroom.

So you went back outside, shivering from both the cold creeping up to your bones and the rush from being practically in the belly of the beast. You found a large trash container, auto parts dumped on top of the lid.

You treaded quietly around it, crouching down next to it. You thanked the midnight rain that washed away any smells from your new hiding place, also thanking whoever decided to throw away such large amounts of garbage to use them as cover.

The door to the workshop was pushed open, making your limbs go rigid and you sucked in a breath.

A lighter rasped a few times, the sound of flames burning paper caught your attention. Yoon Jeonghan drew in a large intake from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he swallowed the smoke, then quickly blew it out of his mouth.

If you can’t see him, he can’t see you. You tried to convince yourself, knowing damn well that it was a lie. You stayed stiff, holding your breath as the man paced on the pavement, smoking his cigarette, cursing under his puff of smoke when it started raining harder.

The rain pattered on the lid of the trash container, and the auto parts surrounding it. But it also made a soft sound as each heavy drop landed on your jacket. The sound was not enough for Jeonghan to notice, but it did add to your nerves.

The man paused once, and you got ready to make a run for it. But as he kept strolling down the alley, you relaxed.

Yoon Jeonghan was just a bookkeeper. That was how you knew him, as the guy who kept a record of all the shipments arriving on the bay, the ongoing train cargo, and so on. It made sense for the accountant to stay behind, while Mingyu and Wonwoo went on their operations and Vernon to make his plug shit.

But Seungcheol? Would he go too?

“What’s the problem?”

Jeonghan’s voice broke through the sound of the rain, making you gasp, hand flying to cover your mouth. The man paced back and forth, humming pensively as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth once again.

“Wasn’t he on our payroll?” he asked with a quiet, but dangerous tone. “I know he’s on our payroll, but did you remind him of that?”

Some things have started to fall into place. You stopped covering your mouth placing both hands on the side of the container for support, leaning forward to see him walking in circles.

“No, no. Leave him be. I don’t want to do anything at the moment, I just want to know where the fucking ship is with my cargo,” he gritted at the phone, his thumb and ringer finger pinching the bridge of his nose, cigarette still safe between his middle and pointer. “I don’t fucking care, Seungcheol. I’ll burn this city down to find that fucking rat if that’s what it takes.”

He took one last drag of his cigarette, rolling his eyes to the sky as he nodded his head to each of the muffled words spoken by Seungcheol on the other side of the call.

“Yes, mmn. Mmn. Right, you do that. See you here. Bye.” He slid his phone into the pocket of his black denim jeans, sighing out his frustration.

You carefully and ever so slowly pressed back against the wall again, processing what you had heard, knowing why you were confused when you saw Seungcheol leaving the workshop along with the two drug runners. 

“The fuck are you doing out here?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, but you did not dare move.

You heard his footsteps crushing the gravel on the pavement as he approached you, the soles of his boots matching each pounding of your heart as he stood before you.

Jeonghan tilted his head back a little, eyes narrowly searching your face as you gaped at him. “I’m talking to you,” he arched one eyebrow.

“I… I’m not hiding,” idiot.

“You’re either on a suicide mission or got nowhere to go,” he said pointedly. When you gave him no answer, he hummed in amusement. “Or both,” he decided, nodding his head, and discarding his cigarette in a puddle of rain. “Come, you’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned away from where you crouched, the heavy clanking of the door being pulled open startled you even more.

Fear settled deep down in the pit of your belly, twisting your guts. Being in this world meant that you were in constant danger. You have learned to tune in to your instincts, but when your instincts are telling you to run away all the time, it gets harder to pay attention.

“Unless you want to stay there, which Seungcheol won’t like,” he shrugged, motioning you inside.

You rose to your feet, which tingled once you put them to use, each step you took towards the man bringing your senses to a full nerve-rack.

Jeonghan closed the door once you were inside. “Sit,” he offered, pointing to a rusty foldable chair. “I’d offer you water, but I don’t trust the pipes in this retched place.”

“It’s okay,” you croaked, feeling weirder every second you were in the same room as him.

“You were planning on hiding out to… what end, exactly?”

“I already told Seungcheol,” you shrugged, deciding to sit down on the chair in the middle of the workshop. “I won’t be saying anything else until he comes back.”

“Mmn,” he hummed in understanding. “What makes you think he’ll cooperate this time.”

“I don’t know,” you said, playing coy, but you were telling the truth when you added, “I’m improvising at this point.”

Your gaze stopped at the drain in the corner of the space, a hose mounted on the wall. A thought crossed your mind: have people been tortured here?

Jeonghan was acting odd. Another thing you have learned living in this world is: be aware of the men who pose to be meek and quiet. You would know that even if you had not been raised in this dark life. 

He was being strangely amicable. And that fired up every single alarm in your head.

The man was clad in dark clothes. Tight denim jeans, chelsea boots, and a leather bomber jacket. His dark and short hair tussled carelessly, and was wet from standing under the rain.

Jeonghan sent one look at you, dropping his act when he made note of your scrutiny. He sighed once again, but this was resignation. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he walked closer to where you sat.

“The clever one is the one who plays the fool,” Jeonghan said, kneeling so he could level with you. “And you… you’re no fool, are ya?”

What? The only thing that came out of your mouth was the shaky sound of the breath you took.

Yoon Jeonghan pinched your chin with two fingers. Like a hunter who just found its prey cute. “It’s easy to mask your cleverness with that pretty face,” he commented while standing back, his hands sinking into the pockets of his black trousers. “Everyone thinks that being pretty makes you dumb. But these guys are ugly and dumb for not making sure you had gone away.”

“What?” you blurted, your voice merely a whisper. Beneath your confusion, a thought forced you to continue playing the innocent. “I… I’m—I just want to talk…”

“You want to talk to Seungcheol?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, standing in front of you so close you could see the drops of water on his jacket.

As if the man had heard his name, Seungcheol entered the workshop, wearing a frown on his face. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We need to start thinking about what to do with friendly intruders,” Jeonghan tutted, smirking at your reaction. “What?”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, standing up from the rusty chair and smoothing out your clothes with a huff. “I don’t like being patronized.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in shock. And much to your surprise, you saw fear in his eyes. “How long has she been in here?”

“What did you hear, sweetheart? When you were outside,” Jeonghan asked, and for a moment, you thought that maybe your earlier suspicions were wrong.

“I heard nothing.”

The answer just flew past their ears. Both men remained impassive, waiting for you to give them the real answer.

“I heard everything,” you sighed. 

“Your sister is dead. It’s easier to give her up for dead and move on,” Seungcheol spoke out, a stern look on his face. Though the statement was heavy, you knew it was not true.

Mingyu and Wonwoo entered the workshop. As soon as they saw your face, they exchanged a look.

“What?! No, it isn’t,” you blurted, face scrunching in annoyance. “And I know she isn’t dead. If she were, Hyunjun would have displayed her dead body in front of me in some way. Holding Kiki as hostage gives him use over me. That is why I want him dead.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu sighed, shaking his head, and dropping on a seat in the corner of the room.

Wonwoo decided to do the same, though his movements were measured as he sat beside him. “What a nice fiancé you got there.”

Three men looked confused. As the seconds went by, the theory solidified in your mind. Yoon Jeonghan remained expressionless, hands deep in his pockets, his gaze never deterring away from you, again.

“Leverage over you,” Seungcheol repeated with a flat tone again.

You realized it was not a question, but you nodded anyway. “There is a reason why I haven’t gotten married to him yet. He wants to have my name. My dad’s name. I won’t allow it.”

“That fucking lunatic,” Seungcheol said under his breath, running his fingers through his long blond hair. “I swear I’ll fucking kill him.”

“So you’ll do it? You’ll kill him?” you crossed your arms, darting a look at the only man in the room who did not seem confused one bit.

Jeonghan finally moved, opening his mouth to let out a raspy sigh. “Okay, so what is your plan?” he crossed his arms, shrugging when you did not give him an answer right away. “You must have planned something when you came in here thinking Seungcheol would help. You have something to offer.”

Seungcheol cast a curious look at Jeonghan, arching one eyebrow but when he did not dare to bite back at Jeonghan’s offhanded comment, you knew you were right all along. 

“You’re the leader,” you muttered in amazement.

Jeonghan pursed his lower lip, bobbing his head once. “Which leads me to think that not even Hyunjun’s aware of this. But that doesn’t surprise me, either he’s too stupid to realize, or he doesn’t have that kind of pillow talk with you.”

You bristled. In this world, you were used to coming across all kinds of people, none of them had manners, or even one ounce of tact when speaking to women. Or to people in general.

But the truth was, you did not have any kind of pillow talk with your fiancé. He would much rather spend his nights in the bed of other women than share the same space as you. It had been a while since he did so much as kiss you on the cheek.

However, you were nosy. And you built your case before you could make a run for it and come to the workshop.

Seeing your reaction, Jeonghan smirked. “So, both?” he approached you with a steady step. “Well then, are you going to tell me that little plan of yours?”

“You mentioned a problem with your shipments in the bay,” you said promptly, even while your whole body shook with unbearable anxiety, you pushed yourself to blurt the next words. “I know why.”

Jeonghan bore into you with his dark gaze, his lips parted, and you knew that his interest had locked in on you. “I’m listening.”

“I need your part of the deal,” you said. Being inches closer to his face, you could spot the mole on his cheek. “I won’t say unless you give me your word that you’ll get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him or kill him?”

“Semantics,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, no,” he had lowered his tone too, and with his voice, it seemed like he was cooing at you: “I could lock him in a warehouse for the rest of his life or I could throw him into the deepest ocean with his hands tied behind his back. Those two are not the same. Your choice.”

“Kill him,” you uttered at once.

“And you’ll tell me every little thing you know.” His dark gaze shone, even in the badly lit room. You saw the fascination burning in his eyes.

“To the last bit,” you promised.

And that was the moment when you knew. Yoon Jeonghan was crazy. Even if the thought had crossed your head some seconds before, this was what solidified it. If he was as cunning as he gave you the impression, then he knew you were just as crazy too.

“Deal.”

› three, damned if you don’t

That same night you struck your deal with Yoon Jeonghan, he started to work with the information you gave him. Though you knew how to play your cards, and did not give him everything you knew at once. You needed to keep yourself safe until you knew Kiki was safe, and far away from this shitty life.

“You’re going to go back home,” Jeonghan instructed, leaning back on the chair, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widened in fear, even sitting across from him, he was unnerving for so many reasons. “Bu-but I can’t go back there—,”

He raised one hand to stop your protest. “You need to fool him. Make him think that everything is under his control still,” he raised his gaze to find Seungcheol standing by the doorway, hands clasped tightly on his back. “Have someone drop her by her apartment, do this quietly.”

“Are you seriously trusting her?” Seungcheol cocked one perfectly thick eyebrow.

“Do I have another option?” Jeonghan retorted, blinking slowly at the man. “So far, your boys haven’t come up with useful intel. We hadn’t got a single scrap of intel until she showed up at our door. If you have any suggestions, make them right now.”

“We should not let her go, then,” Seungcheol debated.

“It’s the third time you speak as if I weren’t in the room,” you intervened.

Then you saw something you were not expecting. Yoon Jeonghan smirked. The corners of his lips raised slightly, but you caught the sight. And the effect it had on you was like eating candy for the first time. It was exciting, like a rush of fresh oxygen to the brain.

“You will have to come back to me. Back and forth, from your home to here,” Jeonghan murmured, driving his gaze from Seungcheol to your eyes. “Indefinitely.”

“What, are you going to keep me here?” you asked, sending a short glance around the place.

“So you’re not upset you have to stay with us but upset about being in the workshop?” Jeonghan arched one eyebrow bemusedly.

“Well, I’d rather be literally anywhere else than with that animal,” you huffed, trying not to roll your eyes. “Yes, this place is horrible. It smells.”

“You’re going to take the most important stuff and hide it,” Jeonghan added, ignoring your comments. “Now, I don’t want you to be obvious. Just grab your passport and I don’t know, your phone charger, put them somewhere within reach in case you need to run.”

“Not even clothes?”

“You can buy that shit, don’t be ridiculous,” he grimaced.

“How will I buy that shit?” you bit back, leaning over the table. “I don’t have any money, he took everything from me.”

This is how you knew these people to be. Cold-blooded, cunning, calculated. You always believed that the head of the clan was Choi Seungcheol because of his way of handling things. He had a reputation, and his gang did too, naturally. You knew his gang from climbing quickly to be the rival to your dad’s.

And you were known as the fiancé to your dad’s second in command. Not as his daughter. You were a prized possession. A trophy soon-to-be-wife.

“But not your name,” Jeonghan remembered keenly. “You said that. Why?”

You bit back your tongue, sighing through your nose before mustering up the courage to give in a little bit more. “Because that way he will have access to everything my father left me,” you blurted out. “He wouldn’t have shit without my father. And he won’t have shit without me.”

“Your father?”

“Hyunjun doesn’t have an empire, he doesn’t have shit. Everything he has, it’s thanks to that old man,” now it was your turn to cross your arms, deciding not to give any more.

“Mmph,” Jeonghan smirked. “So you’re the iron fist’s kid? I never knew he had kids.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you scoffed. “My dad’s a psycho but he kept me safe. His mistake was letting Hyunjun into our lives.”

“Your dad’s dead? This is news to me,” Seungcheol tilted his head, now totally captured by the information he was getting.

Your chest burned, you knew you were crossing a line you would not be able to come back from. “Close to,” you whispered. “Hyunjun is filling in for him.”

“But you’re his heiress,” Jeonghan pieced together. “What about your sister?”

“Kiki’s not my sister,” you confessed, blinking the hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “She’s the only friend I have. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

“You would go to these lengths for someone who isn’t blood-related,” Jeonghan uttered.

You did not even bother to elaborate. Jeonghan did not need an answer, he was not even posing a question.

Jeonghan turned his head to the man standing behind him. “Get to work,” he told Seungcheol.

“I’ll bring the car around,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to the door to get you back home. He exited the room, leaving you with Jeonghan.

You stood up, and he followed waiting for you before the door as you approached it. “How do I know I can trust you?” you asked him.

“I want him dead as much as you do, sweetheart,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile showing on his lips. “But if it gives you more peace, then I’ll offer you this, you’ll be with me every step of the way. No secrets, you’ll be informed of everything.”

His words left you stunned for a long moment. Jeonghan had proven to be as secretive as your father, even competing at that.  And not only that, but you were also never included in Hyunjun’s plans, he never talked to you about anything that was going on in his life. You knew your reaction was visible because the smirk on his face grew more defined.

“Now, I’ll return the question to you. How do I know I can trust you?” his voice was quiet and velvety. But you knew men like him, you knew that he was planning more than he was letting it show.

“I’m being honest,” you shrugged, feeling like there was nothing more to your answer that you could give him.

“Honest won’t make you smart, sweetheart,” he drawled, his gaze dancing on the features of your face, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“That’s all I have left, Jeonghan,” you whispered. 

“Fine, then I’m content with that,” he said. “Now go, I don’t want our plans ruined before we could even put them to work.”

Efficient. You walked out of the room with nothing more to say. Jeonghan stood in the doorway watching you go. In so little time, he showed you he was someone you could trust. You liked that. 

Plans take time. Soon, you would say goodbye to the last rains of September and welcome the snows of December. You learned that time forgives nothing, and waits for no one.

Hyunjun leaned back on his armchair, one elbow on the arm, reclining one of the temples of his head on his finger as he looked at the screen of his phone.

You used to think Hyunjun was attractive. He had a long, straight nose, full lips, dark hair, and a cold stare. Nothing in his face nor demeanor had softness. He was never sweet to you, nor kind.

And he had not looked at you for the entirety of the lunch, and you did not want him to.

“Any news from Kiki?” you asked, breaking the silence that was nearly choking you out.

Your fiancé dragged his gaze from his phone to where you sat, at the other end of the table, meters away from him. Your food was untouched.

“She’s having a nice stay in Greece,” he let you know in a stilted tone. “Last I phoned she could speak some sentences. I’m pretty sure she knows more now.”

I hate you. You had to play a fool every time you were around him, making him believe that you did not know why you could not talk to Kiki. You did not let it show that you knew of his rivals, of his deals with the cops and every single judge of the city.

He thought you were happily content at his side. Happy and deluded about his love affairs, the trail of bodies dropping around him.

“Will I be able to speak to her?” you rasped, clearing your throat, you raised the glass of orange juice to your lips.

“If you remain silent I’ll think about it,” he said with an annoyed tone, staring back at you.

“I’d like to talk to her,” you gritted with a forced sugary tone, masking your hate with another gulp of orange juice.

“Don’t you trust me, love?” he discarded his phone on the table, stretching his arms in a snappy manner to adjust the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Hyunjun was about to leave on a business trip to somewhere overseas. All you had to do to get this information was hack his phone. You had become so stealthy that he did not even know that you already knew every single one of his passcodes. You had even memorized his passport number.

“Of course,” you whispered. “I just miss her dearly. It’s her birthday soon.”

“You could talk to her on her birthday,” he gave you a stern look. “If you remain quiet.”

It was not her birthday soon. But your stupid fiancé did not know that. Though you kept your mouth shut, resorting to toying with the food on your plate until he rose to his feet and left to the master bedroom of the nice penthouse you shared as a couple.

“Tsk,” you spat.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, and you moved your gaze from your food to the screen, discreetly reading the text message you got.

[unsaved number] Yongsan station. 1 hour.

The reaction you got from your body was nearly involuntary. Your tummy twisted, your heart stammering rapidly in your chest.

Hyunjun came back to the dining room, collecting his phone where he left it. “I’ll be going now,” he said flatly, fixing the buttons of his collar.

“Want me to come with?” you muttered, faking a meek look at him.

“No,” he said. “I’ll be busy, it’s no holiday trip… we’ll have time for that, when we get married.”

You kept your gaze fixated on him. “I’ll wait for you, then,” you said. As if you could go anywhere.

If he registered what you said, he made no comment about it. You watched as Hyunjun stood beside you, leaning over to grab your face with his hand, forcing a hard kiss on your lips. Then he grabbed his jacket and the travel suitcase he had readied before the door and left.

You sat frozen for a bit, hand on your palpitating chest as you processed what had just happened. He’s your fiancé for fuck’s sake. Why did a kiss rattle you so much? It’s not like it was the first time he kissed you. But it certainly felt wrong; not only because you did not want to be kissed by him but because you ached to be kissed. Just not by him.

Some moments passed before stood up abruptly, chair squeaking on the faux marble floor as you ran to lock the front door, rushing to the window that gave you the view to the gate of the apartment building and waiting.

It was not until you saw his black BMW leaving that you carried on changing your clothes, starting by removing your silk robes and undoing the hairpin tying your hair together. You chose a warm sweater, jeans, and boots, completing your outfit with a jacket for the snow. You had long forgotten to look nice, you were only thinking of being efficient.

In the months you had been constructing your ploy, you had also crafted a routine for cases like this. You cleaned the table, did the dishes, and tidied your room. But you made it a rule to leave a mug with tea on your bedside table, a lip-stained napkin sitting beside it. On top of that, you also made sure to toss a blanket on the side of the bed.

You kept a copy of your apartment door in your pocket, leaving your original key on the kitchen counter.

And lastly, you would take your engagement ring, sliding it onto your finger, itching to get it off immediately.

You opened an umbrella as soon as you got out of the building, taking the fastest route to Yongsan station, which was less than a ten-minute walk. But you liked to be early.

You snuck some glances over your shoulders every so often, trying to keep your heart rate steady as you quickened your footing. Even as the snow fell on the city, the station was packed with people, though it was no surprise to you, given it was a rush hour.

But it being crowded provided some sense of security for you. You took the stairs up to one of the bridges near by, deciding to stay there to keep watch for a sign, a messenger, or a familiar face. You were dying for it to be the latter.

[unsaved number] car, four o clock

You desperately looked around, rushing down the stairs with little care to watch your step. You almost slipped your foot on one step, but got to the sidewalk safely, opening the door to a black sedan with its blinkers on.

“Do you fucking care about your safety?” Seungcheol spat once you slid on the passenger’s seat. “You almost got yourself killed!”

“Good morning to you too, Seungcheol.”

The man’s nostrils flared. “I mean what am I supposed to do if you fucking snap your neck in the middle of the street?”

“I don’t know. What would gangster Seungcheol do, call one-one-two?” you mused, biting your lower lip to mask your smile.

He rolled his eyes, blinking rapidly. “Fucking put your seatbelt on,” he hissed, moving his hand to the gear stick, shifting it before the car started moving. “One-one-two, tch.”

You smiled quietly, crossing the belt over your chest, clicking it softly once you secured it. “Are you taking me to Jeonghan?” you asked promptly.

This had been your modus operandi for the past few months. You would stay home, watch your fiancé’s every move, sleuthing on his business as much as you could. Then you would get a text message every two weeks or so, sometimes to check in on you, sometimes to take you in.

The times you were taken in were the best.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol said with ease. In all this time, you had earned his trust with little to no effort since all you had to do was follow the plan and be honest.

“To his home?” you asked once you realized you were heading north.

“He’s not in the city. He’s taking a few days off to recover from a burnout,” Seungcheol explained.

Your heart dropped upon hearing that, you turned to see Seungcheol’s face, but all you got from his side profile was seriousness. So you turned to the window again, not letting him get a glance of the worry masking your features.

The ride was silent. However it was the kind of silence you welcomed, it made you feel safe and not like something was about to go off.

Jeonghan lived in a quiet, but rich neighborhood. His house was secluded, sitting atop of a hill, and surrounded by trees. It felt like visiting an island, whenever you came here. You were always driven, dropped off, and then collected.

Your visits were scarce, you could count them with your fingers on one hand. And each time you visited was just for business. Never quite as an invitation.

You closed the door, waving off at Seungcheol who only nodded his head at you, driving off on the snow-covered concrete in his expensive car.

To get to the front door, you had to follow a path surrounded by nature, trees, and grass. Boots crunching on snow as you went down to stand in front of a door to an eerily quiet house, where the were lights off.

You knocked your fist in a familiar rat-a-tat and waited.

Jeonghan came to the door, yanking it open and stepping aside to let you in, locking the door as you sheltered yourself from the cold wind.

“Hey,” you mumbled demurely, avoiding his gaze as you covered your face with your hands, trying to warm them up.

“Cold?” he asked, he almost sounded like he was smiling.

“Yeah,” you replied, sucking in a breath.

“Let’s go to the living room, warm you up.”

Your tummy tightened nervously. “Alright,” you sighed, following him in his spacious home.

Jeonghan had an expensive taste. Not only from the clothes he wore or the car he drove. His house was huge, way bigger for just one person to live in it. It almost felt like he did not even live there. The place was tidied, there were no family pictures, no memorabilia, no signs that someone even liked living there.

“Take a seat,” he muttered softly, pointing to the long black velvet couch in front of the warm faux fireplace.

You did as he asked, feeling much better once you got closer to the heat coming the heater. The flatscreen played soft jazz music, and the lamps in the corners of the living room were on, providing a cozy warm light to the space.

“How have you been?” you asked, searching his face.

“I’ve been better,” Jeonghan said, reclining on the sofa across from you. There was a blanket thrown to one side, and you suspected he had been sleeping there before you knocked on his door.

Jeonghan looked tired, his face colorless even under the warm yellow tone coming from the lamps. He avoided your eyes too, maybe because he did not want to face your scrutiny.

“Why did you call for me?”

His dreamy eyes found you.

“I’ve given you all the information I’ve gathered so far,” you elaborated. “And Hyunjun’s left for the rest of the week, so I don’t know what else I am useful for.

“I don’t want to talk about work tonight,” he muttered, blinking away from your gaze.

“Jeonghan,” you started, moving from the couch to sit beside him. “You said you would tell me everything.”

Jeonghan frowned, this time he did not avoid your eyes as you read his face. “I did not want you to spend Christmas Eve on your own.”

Christmas Eve. The concept seemed so foreign to you because it had been so long since you practiced anything festive during that night. You had even forgotten about it completely.

Jeonghan knew your fiancé was away since you had informed him of everything almost every day. From his deals with the cops of the city to his trips with his affairs.

“Thank you,” you whispered, swallowing a lump of heavy emotions down your throat.

“No, thank you for coming,” he replied. “I might not be a light company to keep around, but I knew you’d be lonely tonight, and I am too, so,” he shrugged, rising from the couch with a small grunt.

“I like your company very much,” you whispered, sheepishly looking away before you could see his reaction.

Your relationship with Jeonghan so far has been strictly limited to talking about business. He was a man who went straight to the point, with no detours, no tangents. And you liked that.

But sometimes, he gave you mixed signals, such as inviting you to his house on Christmas Eve.

The silence dragged on. You looked at him again, thinking that you might have overstepped with your statement.

But Jeonghan looked pleased. He was lying on his side on the long velvety couch, supporting half of his body on his elbow, stroking a cushion with his lithe fingers. In his eyes, you saw something akin to victory. As if he were resolute after hearing your meek confession.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, pushing his body from the couch, and rising to his feet.

Instead of walking towards the kitchen, the man turned to the couch where you were sitting, pacing until he stood in front of you.

He stretched out his hand to grab your chin, gently pinching your skin with two fingers. “Mn? There’s food ready in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied when you found your mouth to speak, standing up only after he motioned you out of the living room.

The kitchen was spacious, well well-lit. The countertops were grey, and the cupboards white. There was a glass table, adorned with candles, different plates full of food to the brim.

“Tsk, I told her not to do this,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the candles in the middle of the table and a small vase with flowers in it.

“Did you have someone help you?” you prompted, looking at the man lower his gaze in utter shyness.

“Saori, my housekeeper. She helps me with the more…. Challenging stuff around the house,” he muttered, pouting softly as he looked at the table. “I asked her to make a simple dinner for two people…”

“Everything looks delicious,” you noted, and you did not realize just how hungry you were until you got the smell of beef, and rice, and then looked at all of the side dishes, elegantly plated around the candles.

“Please,” he reacted at once, pulling out a chair for you.

“Thanks,” you whispered, sitting down, and looking around, expecting him to sit on the opposite side of you.

But he chose to sit on the chair next to yours, still avoiding your gaze as he egged you to start eating.

“So,” you prompted. “The more challenging stuff?” you arched an eyebrow.

Jeonghan showed you a shy smile, but one that took over his face, making his eyes turn into half-moons. “I suppose you don’t expect me to know how to cook, but I do,” he raised his palms at you. “Granted, I’m not the best cook, but I don’t have time to do it. Saori helps me with that.”

You munched on your food as you looked at him explaining. “Well, you’re lucky because Saori is a great cook,” you nodded. “This is delicious.”

“Oh, is that the galbi?” his mouth parted as he took a look at your plate. “Yeah, she’s exceptional. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

But your heart deflated a little bit. “Do you live alone?” you dared to ask.

“Yes,” he replied without much care. “I don’t mind it. I go to the city a lot, so I don’t spend a lot of time here as much as I would want to.”

You held your questions for the rest of the dinner, only replying to those he made at you or commenting on the food. It felt strange to share a moment like this with Jeonghan, not uncomfortable, just out of the ordinary.

After you and him were done with the food, he propped his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together before placing his chin on them. “You look satisfied,” he murmured.

His sweet eyes were lively. Happier than you had ever seen him, even though there was still a note of exhaustion on his features. Under the candlelight, Jeonghan looked gorgeous. Heavenly, his sweet brown eyes outlining your face, his short dark hair tussled but somehow fell perfectly in place, his shiny creamy skin.

“I am,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

He remained silent, looking at you for a moment before reclining back on his seat. “Any news from your sister?” he asked with caution lacing his tone.

Your tummy clenched in anxiousness. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about work.”

“This isn’t work,” he arched an eyebrow. “This is your family.”

Jeonghan was fully aware that Kiki was only your friend. But he still referred to her as your sister every time the topic came up.

“I’ll be able to speak to her soon, Hyunjun told me so,” you stammered around the name of your fiancé. “He said she’s still in Greece.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “She’s not in Greece,” he muttered, an annoyed look twisting the features of his face.

“How do you know?” you asked. You had already formed your suspicions in your head but never went anywhere with them.

“He’s saying that to keep you in line,” he moved his hands to rest on his abdomen, nodding his head once. “The bastard probably has her somewhere in the country.”

Your heart throbbed painfully before you could even collect your words. “Do you think she’s alright?” you asked. “Do you think he’d do something to her?”

He shrugged. “Probably, though I wouldn’t think too much about that,” he said. “It won’t do you any good to think your sister is suffering. Just focus on getting her back.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you whispered, looking at the table absentmindedly.

Jeonghan rose from the table, and you followed his tall frame with your eyes.

“Is it wise to drink while you’re recovering?” you asked, watching him approaching the bar in one corner of the kitchen.

“Want one?” he offered, lifting a bottle to his view. “This is a Japanese whisky. Very rare. And expensive.”

You could tell he was not looking to impress you, by the tone he used to describe the bottle he was tipping into a glass, you knew he meant it in an unconcerned manner. “Sure,” you mumbled.

He returned, handing you a glass, which you grabbed with two shaky hands, giving him a word of thanks. “I really feel like drinking one tonight,” he muttered, returning to his seat.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked, noticing the pink color on his lips.

“Eh, I think I’ll feel better tomorrow after this,” he said offhandedly. “I’ve always been sickly, since I was a kid even. So this is not new to me.”

“Mm,” you nodded in understanding. “Isn’t that stressful?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach upon uttering that question. You felt like you could talk to Jeonghan. Given that you had learned to trust him over the past few months. But this was different, this was personal. With any other human being, this would unfold into a light conversation.

But this was Yoon Jeonghan. Not just anyone.

“It is,” he replied, lowering his gaze, darned by his set of heavy eyelashes. “I’ve been doing this for years and one thing I have learned is that it won’t get any easier.”

“I know,” you muttered, remembering all those times you saw your father bedridden, nearing his death. Just like he was now. “How do you get by?”

“This helps,” he raised his glass, a smirk drawing on his lips. “I know that it’s bad to show weakness, so it wouldn’t be smart for me to be sick all the time. So I kept myself hidden, no one knows I’m the boss, I draw no attention from the law. Or from other gangs.”

Or your fiancé.

“So is that your code?” you asked, trying to remove yourself from that first caution you felt around him.

“Like a code of honour you mean?” Jeonghan smiled after clicking his tongue. “No. I don’t think I have one.”

You sipped the whiskey, which indeed tasted intense, sweet, and woody. “Ah, come on, you must have a code. Everyone does.”

“I really don’t,” he chuckled, pouting as he gathered his thoughts. “I just have two rules. I don’t force violence upon the innocent, and I always keep my word.”

His sweet gaze locked on yours for a second, making your tummy flutter, your heart pounding with something you had never felt before in your life. It felt like a punch in the stomach. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the serotonin from having a conversation that felt humane.

“So, like a code of honour,” you chuckled, the sound bubbling out of your mouth.

Jeonghan stilled for a second, his eyes flashing over the features of your face. “Maybe,” he conceded, uttering the word with a mere whisper.

You stared at each other for a second.

“I should go back,” you croaked, reaching for your phone, and realizing that it was already ten o’clock. “It’s late.”

“I’ll have someone pick you up,” he muttered, equally distracted. He excused himself from the table, making a phone call promptly to have someone take you back home.

So you sat there, thinking of that passing surge of emotions. You had heard stories, seen it in film, read in books. But you had never believed it, until now. 

Maybe you liked Jeonghan a little too much.

Some moments later, he returned, stopping before the end of the table, a worried look on his face.

“What?” you uttered.

“Nothing,” he gaped, seemingly lost in his thought, raising his phone to your view. “There’s a heavy snowfall happening in the city, it is not bad right now so someone could come pick you up, but it’ll get worse later on your way back.”

“Oh,” you thought of what to do, maybe you could search for somewhere to stay, maybe you could…

“I have a spare bedroom, two actually,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind having you over. Until it is safe for you to come back. Is that okay with you?”

“I don’t mean to–,”

“Please,” he said. “I insist.”

You thought of everything that Jeonghan has done for you. True, he was also doing it for your benefit, but you felt there was more to it than him just trying to keep you safe. He wanted you there. Just like you wanted to be near him.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Good,” he nodded too.

The silence between you returned, that silence that did not feel unpleasant but felt like it was squeezing the air out of your lungs. The overwhelming feeling returned to your bones, tingling at your fingertips.

“I should probably…” you whispered, beginning to clean the table off.

“Leave that,” he sighed, coming closer to stop you. “Don’t be ridiculous, leave that.”

You grabbed the used plates, the chopsticks, placing them neatly in a pile to take them to the sink. “Just let me rinse this at least,” you muttered, trying to bite the smirk fighting to get to the features of your face.

“I said leave that,” he gritted, grabbing the plates from your hand.

Now, even if he was tall and thin, Jeonghan was not weak at all. His strength overpowered your own, laughing as he swiftly took the plates from your hands without much effort.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed when he nearly dropped one of the banchan bowls.

The sound you emitted made him chuckle even harder. “Relax, I have it under control,” he muttered turning away to put the pile into the sink.

“Sure you do,” you said under your breath, continuing to tidy the table.

“You’re stubborn,” he shook his head disapprovingly. “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

You were in the middle of your task, but knowing his house was big, you had no choice but to leave the plates there. Running off to where he disappeared to, which was a long hall that had windows on one side looking to the exterior.

It was snowing heavily outside, wind slamming against the trees, the path you had walked on covered in a layer of snow already.

“I think I have some new toothbrushes, I’ll give you one,” he said, opening one of the three doors at the end of the hall and turning on the light for you.

The bedroom was simple. White walls, one twin bed, two bedside tables with lamps on them and a bathroom.

“I could maybe lend you a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for you to sleep in them, if you do that sort of thing,” he muttered beside you as you looked at the very minimalistic bed.

“That sort of thing?” you looked at him, standing beside you so closely it robbed the air out of your lungs.

“Yeah, sleeping with clothes on?” he arched one eyebrow.

“Oh,” you blinked, shamefully shaking your head. “Jeonghan!”

He chuckled again, but this time deviously. Such a tease.

“I think I’ll take the clothes, thank you,” you said, pacing to the foot of the bed, wanting to sit on the navy blue covers.

“I’ll be right back,” he pushed himself off the doorframe, opening the door in front of yours.

The room was exactly the same as the one you were staying in, the only difference was that it looked slightly more lived in. Clothes were dropped on a chair, you saw a suitcase on the floor, the lamp was turned on, a frame placed on the bedside table.

“Here,” he extended his hand out to you when he came back.

The clothes were neatly folded, a new toothbrush sitting on its package on top of the black t-shirt he was lending you.

“Thank you,” you said, sneaking a tentative look at him.

Only to find that short pang of nervousness shooting down your spine again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he retreated, taking a step back. “Have a good night.”

And then he slipped through the door of the bedroom, closing it behind him.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you changed your clothes into the ones Jeonghan lent you. They were soft, and recently washed. They smelled of fabric softener, and of him.

You decided to forgo your bra, slipping the cotton t-shirt over your frame. When you slid under the bedsheets, you sighed under the welcoming weight of the heavy covers, stretching your limbs on the comfy mattress to start warming up.

There was a window, covered by blackout curtains. You could hear the wind hitting against the walls, the leaves rustled under the mercy of the heavy snowfall. Closing your eyes, you wondered if Jeonghan was already asleep. You wondered if he thought of you at all.

You turned over on your side, trying your best to keep your eyes close, to shut out the world outside and sleep.

Inevitably, your thoughts wandered to that moment between you and Jeonghan. You thought how it felt to have an honest conversation with him. To laugh with him. It was so cruel to be shut out in your own little world, you could not even remember when the last time was you laughed.

If it was like this for you, you could not even dare to imagine how it must be for someone like Jeonghan. Your heart ached at the thought.

Fifteen minutes turned into half an hour, then into a full hour. You turned to your other side, stretching an arm to the empty side of the bed, the bedsheets cold against your skin. You shuddered.

You ran your tongue against your upper teeth, tasting the fresh minty toothpaste, realizing you were thirsty. You cannot just go grab a glass of water, this is not your home.

But you were so thirsty it was hard to swallow. Part of you was convinced that it was just a random, normal moment of thirst. Totally not caused by the throbbing feeling inside you, pushing you off the bed.

The floor was cold beneath your feet as you had expected, but you drew in a hiss, nonetheless. You opened the door ever so slowly, managing to keep your movements light and quiet as you exited the bedroom.

You paced through the long hall, now noticing the frames hanging on the wall. There was a watercolor painting, and a diploma hanging beside it. That was the moment you learned Jeonghan had a degree in law.

You huffed quietly, resuming your mission to get a glass of water. When you entered the kitchen, you found out that the table had been cleaned, the dishwasher humming softly as you approached the sink, grabbing a glass to pour cold water into it.

You gulped three times, refreshing your throat with a pleased sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” Jeonghan muttered.

Your whole body jolted so hard you nearly dropped the glass to the floor, gasping loudly, a hand covering your mouth. “God!” you gasped.

“Hey,” Jeonghan raised his palms at you, smiling lightly. “Sorry, but you are incredibly unaware of your surroundings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” you yelped, putting the glass back into the sink, annoyed that he had startled you so badly.

“You never notice when someone’s tailing you,” he shrugged, advancing towards you.

True, you never did notice all the times when he was near you, or noticing you around when you thought you were out of sight.

“Because you’re stealthy as fuck for no reason!” you exclaimed with a higher tone.

Jeonghan emitted a silly giggle, bending over a little as he looked at you joyfully. “You’re just easy to scare, sweetheart,” he leaned back against one side of the kitchen island, crossing his arms. “So?”

“I can’t sleep,” you conceded, leaning back against the counter, standing face to face with him. You sneaked a look at his eyes. “You?”

“Same,” he shrugged. “I tend to be light sleeper, anything wakes me up.”

Ah, you mouthed. Hearing the noise from the strong winds of winter slamming against the house.

“Why are you awake, though?” he asked, and you knew he was not satisfied with your earlier excuse.

“I just have a lot in my mind,” you replied with honesty. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“Well, maybe if you let those thoughts out, you might be able to sleep,” he muttered, his voice sweet and welcoming like a hug.

You wondered what his hugs felt like.

“I… don’t think I can tell you, Jeonghan,” you replied shyly, dropping your gaze to your feet.

“You don’t want to tell me or can’t tell me?” he pushed himself off the countertop, taking two steps towards you, making you drag your gaze back to his face.

Even in the dark, you could see that glint of cunning in his eyes. You sucked in a breath, pressing your back against the counter when he stood mere inches in front of you. You must be ovulating, you thought, grabbing at the rim of the counter with both hands.

Jeonghan waited, tilting his head to one side as he watched you. Starting from your face, your neck, your arms, your hands, his gaze swam all over you, absorbing you in.

Then a nimble knuckle brushed against the engagement ring that was hugging your finger. The touch did not even land on your skin, but you felt it everywhere, igniting every nerve ending.

“I think you know,” you whispered.

His lower lip pursed slightly. “I want to hear it,” he murmured, his sweet voice weakening, becoming raspy. “I need to hear you say it,” he fixed his gaze on your face again, defiantly.

“Jeonghan, why did you call for me?” you asked, every emotion you had felt before choking you out.

“Tell me first,” he shook his head lightly, propping his hands beside yours on the counter, leaning over you.

“I can’t,” you breathed, trying to move back as he drew in closer. An empty smile curving your lips. “I’m engaged to someone, Jeonghan.”

“Someone you despise,” he growled under his breath. “When was the last time you felt safe with him?”

You swallowed back your arguments. Did Jeonghan know that you had never felt safe around Hyunjun? Even when you thought you loved him, you were always walled up.

“Why did you agree to come here?”  

The question was clear, but it answered what you also needed to know. Jeonghan knew it too, the glint in his eyes told you that much.

Intrigued, he went on. “Why do you look at me like that?” he asked. “The way you talk to me, when you smile… I know you feel something,” he whispered, reading your face swiftly, over, and over. “Tell me. Tell me, please.”

You realized that he was asking you for his own good. As if he needed you to turn him down before he did something totally wrong and unwise. Or as if he needed you to tell him what he was thinking, to do it anyway.

“Jeonghan…” you muttered right before he captured your lips with his own in a ghostly kiss, you closed your eyes, a low hum bubbling in your throat.

“Stop me,” he dared. “Stop me now.”

You grabbed his face with your hands, pulling him closer. “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Jeonghan let out a raspy groan, returning to your lips with another kiss. This time, he went deeper, kissing you chastely, heatedly, as if he could not break away from you. His hand found your hip, pressing himself to your front.

He broke away, your lips resounding with a wet smacking noise. He breathed against your mouth, swallowing your breath as you were doing to his own. It tasted sweeter than you had ever dared to imagine.

“Come to my room with me?” he breathed, pressing his forehead on yours, leaning your face so he could press a wet, slow kiss on your lips.

Damned be your hormones. Or the whisky. The snow. Damned be your fiancé. Damned be everything. You were touched starved. Lonely.

But you could not fool yourself any longer: you had never felt this way before. It was electrifying.

You vaguely remembered how you felt when Hyunjun kissed you hours before. The emptiness of his kiss, like all of the other kisses that preceded it.

Testing, you pressed your lips against his again, and he reciprocated at once. The taste of his soft lips was sweet, minty. His kiss pulled you in, like the force of two magnets, his fingers clenching your waist gently.

Kissing Jeonghan was like taking a breath after feeling suffocated for so long.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, so close to his lips, your hands slid from his cheeks, your fingers gingerly touching his jawline. “If we do this, I don’t think I can go back to how we were… This is dangerous. For both of us.”

“Trust me, I know. Even being near you it’s signing a fucking death sentence,” he replied softly, there was no snark or venom in his words. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to be this close to you again. I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“Wanted me?” you asked with a tiny voice.

“This is complicated, and crazy, and a bad idea. I know,” he whispered, in his eyes you saw a flash of worry. “If you don’t want this, I’ll go back to my room. I’ll never bring this up again.”

You noticed the weird, dejected way he said those last words. Your heart instantly ached, making you shake your head.

Jeonghan saw the remorse hitting you. “I need an answer, sweetheart,” he pleaded softly, as though he already knew what you were thinking, but needed you to say it aloud.

“Promise me you will take care of me?” you whispered.

“I promise.”

You were crazy, you had to be crazy. But his kiss was so alluring, his attention so tempting you could not hold yourself back. Your hand cupped his chin, and he finished leaning over to kiss you fervently, almost as if he wanted to melt into you.

Jeonghan moaned when your tongue outlined his lower lip, the quiet, guttural sound making your skin tingle. “Let’s go to my room,” he grunted in your mouth, pausing just to say that before diving into your lips again.

Your hands slid from his chin to his hard chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. You needed to hold him, to feel him.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Jeonghan grabbed your hand, the cold metal around your finger pressing on his skin as he pulled you, motioning you to his bedroom. Your pulse quickened, quickly making you feel lightheaded.

You got to his bedroom, which was nearly identical to the one he assigned you. The lamp was still on, which led you to believe that he did not even try to sleep. But you could not pay attention to the fleeting thought. 

Jeonghan pulled you closer, using his hand on yours to draw you in. His hands cupped your face, inhaling your breath as he resumed kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, hands roving all over his back, stopping before the band of his sweats. 

“Mmf,” you let out a half moan in his lips, trying to speak up but he would not let you, kissing you ravenously, as if he could not get enough from your lips. And honestly, you would be doing the same thing, if it was not for your aching need to undress him. 

Your hands went around his waist, trailing down until your fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, tugging at it sheepishly. “Should we take this slow?” you whispered, the anxious feeling in your throat making your voice wane.

“No,” he decided at once. “We’ll have another night to take it slow. I need you right now.”

The words nearly sent you into a frenzy. You kissed him again, though briefly, your hands were finding his abdomen, feeling his skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, so close to you that you could feel the slow smirk pulling the corners of his lips.

You hiked his t-shirt up his torso, uncovering his milky white skin to your view.

“Lie down,” he rasped, kissing you repeatedly.

You followed his command without a second thought, walking backwards until you found the bed with the back of your knees. You sat down first, backing up to the center of the bed, and he followed.

Jeonghan lied on his side, next to you, propping his body on one elbow as his other hand reached out to cup your cheek, pulling you into a wet, passionate kiss. You hummed in his mouth when his tongue rolled inside yours, your hands grabbing him, trying to pull him closer.

“What are you doing, baby?” he muttered with an amused look on his face.

You gently caressed his skin with your hands, feeling his slender collarbones under your fingertips, his chest, all the way down to his abdomen. The tip of your thumb dipped lightly into his belly button, eliciting a soft gasp from him, a smirk drawing on his face when you brushed the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“Don’t tease me,” he rasped, daring you again.

The corners of his lips tugged slightly when you curled your fingers on the waistband of his sweats, sending quick looks to your eyes and back to your hands. You bit your lower lip, grabbing the band of his boxers too, noticing the bulge under his sweats.

You got to your knees, tugging the waistband down as Jeonghan lifted his hips for you. You shuddered upon seeing his hard cock slapping his lower abdomen. You took his pants and boxers off, leaving him utterly naked on the covers of his bed.

Before you could even touch his skin, kiss him in places you so utterly wanted, his hands were pushing you back on the mattress. You complained with a loud gasp, finding a playful smirk on his face.

“Behave and I’ll give you what you want,” he muttered, placing his hands at each side of your head, leaning over to press a kiss on your lips, its sweetness betraying the firmness of his command.

A quiet moan left your mouth when he pressed another soft kiss on your lower lip. His dark gaze looking at you as he pulled away slightly, but keeping some inches from your face. “Mn? Will you be good for me, pretty?”

“Yeah. I’ll do whatever you want me to,” you replied, blushing over how turned on you sounded already.

But it made Jeonghan smile, a hand brushed your cheek endearingly, blowing you away with its gentleness. “You’re going to kill me,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours, stealing a chaste kiss from you, then another.

You felt the weight on pillows shift on the sides of your face, seconds later you felt Jeonghan’s hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, caressing your skin with his cold fingers. He backed away once he hooked his fingers on the band of your panties, grabbing your sweats too.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered softly.

“Shh, be patient,” he smirked, pulling back to his knees, dragging your clothes down your legs.

Your heart pounded frantically in your throat, but you kept your eyes on him, following each movement, darting looks down his beautiful naked body. He sighed under a smile, his hands caressing your thighs with a feather-light touch, gently egging you to part them for him.

“Good girl,” he muttered, leaning over you again, pushing the t-shirt up to your breasts with his hand, caressing your skin in the process. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Hannie,” you sighed, eyelids fluttering wildly as his touch ignited you again.

Jeonghan smiled. “I like that,” he whispered, referring to the nickname you used. He leaned to press a loving kiss on your sternum, making you jolt in nervousness. “So responsive,” he hummed approvingly, darting a testing look at your eyes before pressing a kiss on the swell of your breasts, making a short trail to your nipple.

“God,” you sighed, letting your eyelids fall close. Your hand found the back of his head, fingers coiling around the strands of his black hair.

He muffled a giggle in your chest, littering it with wet, open kisses. He tasted, licked, and nibbled your skin, showering it with so much love you quickly became drunk, moaning, squirming and uttering his name.

Your skin prickled as he placed another open kiss right below your belly button, glancing at your face as he moved to push his hands on your thighs, angling you open for him.

“J-jeonghan,” you stuttered, tensing your spine as he placed a sweet kiss on your inner thigh, “God, please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, being so long since you had been touched like this, it felt like fireworks going off inside you at each touch, each kiss…

“Patience, baby girl,” he muttered softly, nibbling your inner thigh, the enjoyment flashing on his face when a moan bubbled in your mouth.

“Please, please, please,” you whispered over and over, his reminder nearly going unnoticed by your pleas.

“Mmmn, you’re becoming bratty,” he muttered, still taking his sweet time teasing you with kisses on your inner thighs, running his tongue on your skin, eliciting a loud yelp from you.

You turned your head onto the pillow, trying to muffle your moans, snapping your eyes open when he finally pressed a kiss on your mound, then another on your clit. You shuddered in pleasure, your arousal pooling in your entrance.

“So needy,” he tutted again, and you knew by his tone that he was smiling.

You nearly choked on a gasp, hands flying to grab at the covers when he pushed his tongue between your folds, giving you a long stroke with his tongue against your cunt, drinking you in with a raspy moan on his part.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned weakly, easing your back on the mattress, closing your eyes, relishing in the sweet pleasure his mouth was giving you. “Oh, Jeonghan…”

He clutched your hips, licking every inch of your pussy lips teasingly, then his hands slid up your tummy, finding your breasts to fondle them, pushing his tongue on your clit at the same time. An airy moan spilled from your lips, trying to keep as quiet as possible as his tongue started drawing figures around your clit, getting it to swell.

You had to bite down your lip, releasing the covers from your tight grip to prop yourself to your elbows. The sight of him eating you out was so alluring you swore you could come from it alone. He raised his dark eyes, finding your face, probably seeing the awe and the pleasure written in it.

Jeonghan smiled, curving his lips slightly as his tongue worked on your clit, you moaned again, thighs tensing at his sides, bumping against the sides of his face.  

“I’m close, Hannie,” you sighed, welcoming the long forgotten tension coiling deep inside you, your chest falling and rising faster.

His hands grabbed your thighs to keep you open for him, slipping two fingers inside your throbbing walls, his tongue switching the motion of the tip of his tongue on your clit, darting from side to side on it.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, writhing on the bed, feeling that tension finally snap inside you, washing over you. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming…” you tilted your head back, fingers tangling in his hair as you came undone with lewd moans and ragged breaths.

You stroke his hair languidly, coming down from your high as he continued eating you out, licking the arousal pooling in your core, the sensitiveness in the area making you jolt.

Jeonghan kissed your mound, pulling out his fingers out of your walls before sneaking a playful look at you. “Hey,” he mumbled, crawling to you as you lied back on the pillows.

“Hey,” you whispered, wiping your arousal from his chin with one hand.

He kissed you again. “You’re good?” he asked.

“I’m good, Jeonghan,” you giggled sweetly, surprised that he would stop mid-sex to check in on you.

“God, I love that sound,” he sighed, his fascinated gaze outlining your features.

Your heart stammered. “Yeah?” you taunted, smirking at him. “What else do you love about me?”

“Everything,” he drawled drunkenly, planting more kisses on your lips, humming when your hands roamed on his back. “Everything,” he repeated, as though he had not found a single thing about you he disliked.

“Mmn,” you hummed in his lips, tasting yourself in them.

A hand returned on your tummy, blindly finding the t-shirt and motioned you to help him take it off you. Your bodies moved in synchronicity, you sat up just as he sat back, throwing the t-shirt once he removed it, grabbing your chin with one hand to steal another kiss on your lips.

“Are you on birth control, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, but it had a slight gruffness in it.

“No,” you muttered, your heart falling to your stomach. “Do you have condoms?”

“No,” he bit his lower lip, eyebrows pinching softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone.”

The statement was nearly hurtful for you. Jeonghan was the most alluring man you had ever met. But you knew you had to be insane when a thought flashed in your head, not caring about anything else.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cupping his face with your hands. “Me too.”

Jeonghan did not question this, but he remained frozen, as if unsure of how to proceed. “What do you want to do?”

Your heart fluttered uneasily, looking at his features. “I want you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands falling from his face but found his waist, clutching him gently. “I want to feel you. Please…”

He pushed you back onto the covers again, placing his hands on each of your sides. But you realized that he had not conceded yet, his eyes were going over your face over and over, a sign that the gears in his brain were turning.

“Are you sure?” he muttered, smiling when you nodded eagerly. “God, baby, you’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy too,” you smirked.

Jeonghan made no reply to this. His hand cupped your cheek, slotting his lips in yours to kiss you deeply, humming into your mouth as he positioned his body between your legs.

Blindly, following his lips with your seamlessly, your hand found his length, stroking him slowly, thumb brushing the beads of precum leaking from its tip. Jeonghan moaned, his hand falling beside you on the pillow for support.

You guided his cock between your legs, breath hitching nervously when the tip slid between your pussy lips, covered in your arousal. Jeonghan gasped too, breaking the kiss to look at you in the eyes.

There were no words exchanged, just looking at each other as you nudged his tip against your pooling entrance. Jeonghan pushed his cock inside you, stretching your walls slowly. His mouth parted, letting out a silent groan as you moaned lewdly, squirming beneath him.

“You’re good?” he choked out, retracting his hips one inch to push back in.

“I’m good,” you stammered, fingers trembling on his waist, trying not to sink your fingernails on his skin. It had been a while since you had some action happening in your life, and although Jeonghan was not big, his length fit inside you perfectly, his tip pressing in one particular sensitive spot.

“I’m going to start moving, baby,” he whispered, meeting his hips with your own.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you sighed, trying to relax under his weight.

But you were nervous. Intoxicated by the smell of his neck, skin prickling when he pressed his chest on yours, hypnotized his lips moaning your name. No one had ever made you felt like this.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “Relax, sweetheart… or this might end too soon,” he whispered in your ear.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You feel so good, Hannie…”

That made him smile, sending a powerful shudder through your body. “Put your legs around me,” he gave his command gently, and you followed it.

Now you were practically clinging to him, following the gentle motions of his hips on you. You closed your eyes briefly, easing the tension between your legs when his thrusts picked up the pace, going a little faster on you.

Jeonghan grunted quietly, making you open your eyes to find his gaze.

“You’re good?” you asked meekly.

He smiled endearingly at you. “Amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You feel incredible,” he told you between kisses, pressing them on your lips.

You moved one hand to cup his face, still hugging him with one arm.

His gaze shifted, your hand caressing his cheek making him close his eyes for a moment.

Then something caught your eye. The cold ring hugging your finger was also pressing to his cheek, his eyebrows drew inward slightly, gasping softly as he blinked at you. Your heart deflated, seeing his demeanor had changed in a second. You almost wanted to pause and remove your engagement ring, but you also knew that it was too late.

Even though Jeonghan knew you did not love your fiancé, you were not a free woman.

But he was claiming you as his, his hips pushed against yours harder, knocking the air from your lungs. You removed your hand from his cheek, placing it on the covers of the bed.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck!” he exclaimed, dropping his forehead on the pillow, next to your face.

His thrusts slowed down sloppily, breathing raggedly against the pillow. It took you some seconds to understand he was resisting his climax for you.

You carefully used the tips of your fingers to stroke his hair. Jeonghan was groaning languidly, moving his cock with shallow thrusts inside you.

“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” he rasped in your ear.

Your tummy tightened anxiously. “I promise,” you replied.

As he breathed on your neck, you could get the faint smell of his neck, of his hair. You hugged him tightly against your body, welcoming his warmth, deciding that you would never want anyone else.

You must be crazy.

He raised his head to look at you, his gaze had darkened. “No one else touches you,” he breathed. “No one but me.”

“I promise,” you parroted mesmerizingly.

He leaned on you again, cupping your chin with his hand before pressing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips. “You’re mine,” he muttered drowsily.

A thrilling feeling of exhilaration swept through your body all the way to your brain. “I’m yours.”  

Then he started thrusting his hips against yours, hard and fast, as though hearing your promise sent him into a mad frenzy. You noticed him moving his mouth, babbling nonsense, and moaning out your name.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he tilted your head to meet your lips with his in a soft kiss. Moans spilled from your lips, his gaze going soft when you also mumbled out his name, daring to use your hand to cup his cheek again.

“Jeonghan,” you mewled, hugging him tighter with your legs around his waist.

“You’re close, sweetheart?” he forced out.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby girl?” he asked, smirking softly when you nodded again frantically, thighs starting to shake around him. 

You gasped, feeling so close yet there was something going wrong in your body. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning every time Jeonghan’s cock reached that particular sweet spot in your walls, hitting it with each stroke of his hips against yours.

Jeonghan realized you could not reach your high when you whined, closing your eyes to focus on the tight feeling pooling inside you. A light kiss pressed to your cheek, then below your earlobe. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered shakily on your ear. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“T-talk to me?” you asked meekly.

Jeonghan emitted a giggle that send butterflies to your stomach. “Dirty?”

“God, yes please,” you gasped, giggling upon how needy you sounded at that.

You saw the effect your giggles had on him, a soft sigh falling from his lips. “Stop wrapping your legs around me, or we might end up making a baby,” he muttered gruffly.

A strange feeling bloomed inside you, making you moan salaciously. “Fuck, Jeonghan, please,” you whined. “I’m so close.”

He pulled his body back, grabbing your hips to keep thrusting in. The position of his cock inside you changed too, now pressing on your front walls harder.

Your eyes watered, a raw moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, god,” you gritted.

“You like that?” he smirked, jackhammering into you, making the headboard of the bed slam against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, yes,” you balled your hands into fists at the covers on your sides, back arching as you moaned.

You were so, so fucking close, you ached to come, you needed to come. Pleasure was brimming inside you, wet noises coming from your pussy each time Jeonghan hit his hips against yours.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself yet,” he rasped when he caught sight of your hand inching closer to your mound.

You dropped your hand at your side, whining reproachfully at him. “But I’m close,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes from the unyielding pleasure that just kept on building inside you.

“You’ll come when I want you to,” he sighed out in pleasure too, throwing his head back slightly.

Pressure coiled tighter inside you, walls throbbing around him upon hearing him speaking to you harshly.

He gasped, a single vein throbbing in his neck from the exhaustion growing in his limbs. “Your little cunt’s so tight, baby, do you even finger yourself?”

“S-sometimes,” you choked out, feeling your face burn.

“How do you do it baby?” he asked. “Like this?” he rasped, bringing the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it.

“God, Hannie,” you gasped, pushing the back of your head onto the pillow, biting down your lip to keep any more lewd noises from spilling out again.

Jeonghan noticed this time around, smirking at you with a glint of playfulness. “Be as loud as you want, sweetheart. No one’s around,” he drawled lazily, still thrusting his cock at a delicious pace, rubbing fast swirls on your clit.  

“Oh, god,” you whispered, your legs starting to shake again. “Jeonghan, keep going, fuck, fuck. Help me come, please…”

A fascinated look flashed on his face. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little, bending his head over you to let his spit fall on your cunt perfectly. You moaned at the sight, feeling the pad of his thumb sliding perfectly on your engorged clit, teasing it more.

He kept ramming his cock in your pussy, making the headboard slam louder against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your bodies. You could tell Jeonghan was growing tired, but there was a glint in his eye, he wanted to push you farther, to see what would make you snap.

“Did he ever fuck you like this, baby?” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back a moan.

“Fuck, Jeonghan,” you gritted, arching your back on the bed. Forcing out an honest no under your breath.

He leaned forward, but only slightly, resting his hands on the sides of your waist. “And he fucking won’t,” he muttered softly, taking one of your hands to kiss your palm, uncaring that you still had your ring on. “No one will. You’re mine, mine to ruin.”

You nodded obediently. A rush of exhilaration ran all over your body. “I am.”

Jeonghan looked at you in awe, pausing to grab your legs to hoist them up on his shoulders, resuming to slam his hips on yours, his cock hitting so deep inside you that you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Jeonghan¸ god, yes, yes, right there!” you squealed in pure bliss.

“That’s right baby,” he sighed under a pleased smile. “Come all over me, come on this cock.”  

“I’m coming, Jeonghan. I’m there, I’m there…” you gasped, tasting your sweet orgasm, the feeling of release overwhelming you, buzzing in your ears, making your mind go blank.

Jeonghan read your face, moaning with you as you came around him. “God, baby,” he gritted, pressing his lips against your knee. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuck…” he threw his head back, a raw moan escaping between his clenched teeth.

“Hannie…” you mewled, crying from pleasure brimming inside you, making your walls throb and clamp around him. “Jeonghan, oh my god…”

“I know, baby,” he sighed, still pushing his cock inside your throbbing walls. You smiled slightly at him, coming down from your climax, making him reach his.

With perfect timing, he pulled out of you, spilling himself on your lower tummy with soft and languid, moans. Jeonghan breathed hard, looking at the mess on your skin, spilling until the last drop.

Jeonghan wasted no time, he bent over, capturing your lips with a lewd kiss. “Let’s go clean up,” he whispered between rushed kisses, making you scrunch your nose, giggling lazily. “Then we’ll cuddle, and sleep together. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

Mind fogged, you nodded at him. “I’d like that, Jeonghan,” you whispered back.

“Good,” he gasped, taking a moment to look at your eyes before smiling. “God, you really drive me crazy.”

Once you washed up, you lied in his bed, staring at the ceiling for a while, turning over on your side as he slipped under the covers. He hummed softly, wrapping his arms around your body, snuggling up to you.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, noticing you deep in thought.

Your gaze fell on the portrait neatly placed on his bedside table. In the dark, you could see four figures posing for a family photo. Even if you could not make out the other faces, you could see his. A young brightness painted his face, his smile, the half-moon of his eyes. He was happy.

“Who are they?” you whispered.

“Who?” he muttered, intuiting what you were asking, he followed your gaze. “Ah. They’re my family.”

“Are they safe?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even hold yourself back.

“Yeah, they are,” he whispered calmly, moving his body so he could look at you, propping his weight on his elbow. “I do everything to keep them safe. They don’t really know what I do, and haven’t seen them in years but… I send them things every now and then.”

Your heart broke. And you could not hold yourself back any longer. “I just… I just can’t stand the thought that you’re alone,” you said with a shameful look.

His gaze softened, a shy smile curving his beautiful lips, showing his perfect set of teeth. “Oh, baby. But I’m not alone,” he said, bringing a hand to pinch your chin. “You’re here.”

You grabbed his fingers pinching you softly to press your lips against his pads. “I’ll have to go back eventually.”

“For a while,” he said, his fingers started toying with yours. “We need to keep this up until we find your sister, and we have a clear target on him.”

Your heart deflated at the mention of Kiki, and the sorrow showed on your face.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your gaze back to his. “What’s wrong?”

You caressed his shoulder, gathering your words. “I feel so guilty that she’s being used as leverage,” you whispered, even though it was something you knew was made clear by your actions, saying it aloud felt worse.

“You can’t really change that,” he muttered. “Hyunjun saw a weak spot in you and exploited it. It’s not on you. It’s on him.”

You nibbled on your lower lip, swallowing your tears. “She’s just a kid,” you said. Jeonghan remained quiet, reading your face so you just went on: “She’s just a girl that showed me kindness when no one did. She is not even a part of this world. I let her get close to me and now I don’t even know she’s alright.”

“Why do you say she’s your sister?” he asked with caution, and you knew that he had intended to ask that question before, but refrained from doing so.

“She called me sister a lot, it was quite annoying at first,” you explained, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “Kiki lived in the same neighborhood I used to live in before I got engaged. She was lonely, her parents were either at work or out drinking. So I would keep her company, watch movies with her, talk about boys… eventually I started calling her my sister too.”

Jeonghan showed you a smile, it was sad, but at the same time sweet. “You love her.”

You sniffled quietly, nodding with your head. “I can’t lose her.”

“She’ll be fine, baby,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. “We’ll get her back. I made a promise, remember?”

You smiled weakly at him. “You did.”

And he always kept his promises. No matter the cost.

› four, double dare

After that night, everything changed.

It became increasingly difficult to go back home to your fiancé. One, because you liked him even less than you ever did. Two, because of the burden you felt from cheating on him. And three, because every second you spent away from Jeonghan was miserable to you. 

Granted, you could not remember when the last amicable time was spent with your fiancé. And the weight of infidelity you felt was because you never thought you would cross that line. Even if Hyunjun probably did not care, it felt dirty.

But everything you could think about was that night with Jeonghan. The morning after you slept together, you spent it pressed against his body, barely even stopping to have breakfast. And when it was time to get ready to go, you nearly cried from thinking that this would be a one-time thing.

“Why do you look like that?” Jeonghan had asked, using two fingers under your jaw to lift your face to his view. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t want to go,” you replied, your voice thickening.

A light frown showed on his face. “It’s temporary, baby,” he muttered, gently cupping your face. “When this is all over, you won’t have to leave, you can stay here.”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Did you think that I’d let you go that easily?” he asked with a soft tone. “Sweetheart, how do I make you believe that I want you?”

It was an understatement to say it was hard for you to even concentrate. Your every thought was riddled with memories of him, fantasies of you kissing him again.

You had stopped blaming that first kiss with Jeonghan on your vulnerability. It became clear to you that you had wanted to kiss him way before he even made an advance to you.

Every time your phone buzzed, your heart gave a leap, thinking it was some development, some notice that you would see Jeonghan soon. But days went by, and you did not even get so much as a text message.

Being an informant also meant that you had very little contact with Jeonghan. Assuming that you had to keep your role, you waited. And continued playing the fool.

Hyunjun suspected nothing about your affair, or about you being an informant. Though he was still weary of you and still felt like you wanted to call off the engagement, he never brought the topic to the table.

So you carried on with the plan. You gathered whatever information you could get, played dumb, and got back to Jeonghan.

Sometimes, you would have the opportunity to stay with him, sometimes you would have to settle for some hours. Either way, Jeonghan and you would get the most out of the time you had. You could not get enough of him, and he could not get enough of you.

Weeks turned into months, and soon you entered spring. And even though some time had passed, your affair with Jeonghan was still exciting. And dangerous.

You were sitting on the sofa, reading a book, a finger toying with the corner of the page you were pretending to read.

Hyunjun was handling some business on the phone on the other side of the living room, aloof to your scrutiny. Each sentence he spoke was direct and brief, but as you put them all together, you could tell that Jeonghan’s last move had rattled some of his plans. And stolen a lot of money’s worth of shipment.

Hyunjun was almost cornered. But in that, it also meant that your father’s empire was crumbling too. All your fiancé did was handle your father’s money, and his clients, it was your father’s network, his money, his men.

And by being the sole child, everything was yours by right.

You sighed in faux boredom, looking at your book. Hyunjun shot you a look that you were already expecting and ended his call, pocketing his phone.

“Honey,” he called flatly, making you draw your gaze at him.

“Yes?” you replied sweetly, your tummy tightening upon the action.

Hyunjun walked towards you in the living room, taking the book from your hands once he was standing in front of you. He crouched, so he could look eye to eye with you.

“I was thinking… I don’t want to wait any longer… we should get married,” he said, blinking twice before the corners of his lips pulled in a smile.

Several seconds went on. The wind had been knocked out of you, which served as a good reaction that passed for genuine shock. You opened your mouth, heart palpitating in your throat before you made your choice.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, trying to sound as excited as humanly possible. But everything inside you roared in rage. “Yes, oh my god, yes!”

You knew this day would come.

“Next week?” he muttered, his eyes shining with something you could not quite place. It was not love, it was not sweetness.

It was a man who had finally caught his prey.

“Of course!” your limbs reacted too, managing to wrap his shoulders in a hug, instead of kissing him. Once hiding on his shoulder, your worries came in, shaking in fear and worry. “I waited so long for this…”

When his hands touched your back, it took everything in you not to recoil instantly. “Me too, honey, me too…”

“You should do it,” Jeonghan stated coldly, crossing his arms over his chest, looking fixedly at the table he was standing by.

Your heart fell to your tummy. “But I just told you I don’t want to,” you muttered.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” he said, sighing heavily as he placed both hands on the table, leaning over it and crossing one foot. “Did you agree to do it next week?”

You bit your lower lip, dropping your gaze to the concrete floor before nodding your head silently.

Jeonghan had many hide-outs spread all around the country. The hideout you were in now was a hangar. It was private and had been given an abandoned appearance deliberately. It had everything you would expect to see in a hangar, cargo equipment, old aircraft parts, heavy tooling, and a nice little plane parked off to the side.

The only sources of light were a pair of industrial lights by the table. And some lanterns were placed by the large doors to the hangar, where you could see Wonwoo’s shadow pacing back and forth before the entrance.

You were not alone with Jeonghan. Seungcheol was also pacing in circles, but he was doing so behind Jeonghan, who was still fixating on some floor plans laid on the table.

“We need to act,” Seungcheol gritted, coming to Jeonghan’s side. “We have less than a week to attack then.”

Jeonghan shook his head. “It’s too soon,” he sent you a look that drained all blood from your face. “He knows.”

“He knows what?” Seungcheol spat. “If he knew, then we would be aware,” then he looked at you. “Hyunjun doesn’t know about you informing us, right?”

“I’m not talking about that,” Jeonghan muttered, crestfallen.

“Jeonghan, I don’t think he knows,” you said, but the man was not hearing, he was falling into a self-induced paranoia. 

“He knows about us,” he said and even though the statement was something you were dreading to hear, he spoke it softly.

You went around the large table, standing at his side. “I’d be locked up if he did,” you stammered, trying to draw his gaze back to you. “Think about it, Jeonghan, he is asking me to marry him. He’s playing a game.”

That made him lift his head, his eyes finding yours. “What game do you think he’s playing?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But my guess is that he’s after whatever position of power my family will give him. He’s after my dad’s name.”

“Makes sense,” he said but he was not thoroughly convinced. “Do you think he’s planning on getting rid of him?”

“The man can barely talk but Hyunjun still obeys him,” you mumbled, looking at him for any signs that he was coming back from his panic attack.

“Okay, we can work with that,” Seungcheol sighed, placing his hands on the table as well.

Jeonghan seemed to be snapping out of it, his eyes reading your face over and over. “Marry him,” he blurted.

“What?!” you exclaimed. 

“What?” Seungcheol questioned, huffing when neither Jeonghan nor you said anything, just stared at each other.

“Go on with the wedding,” he said dejectedly, standing up straight, as he would treat regular business. “That way we’ll know when and where he will be, surrounded by all his men. We’ll have the bastard cornered. We could even wait until the guests leave, then we got him.”

“You’re seriously not using me as bait,” you gritted, tears stinging in your eyes from the rage that quickly started building up.

Seungcheol looked astounded too, as though he also had not expected Jeonghan to say this, to form this kind of plan. “Fuck, this is insane,” he breathed, standing back from the table, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“Do you think I’d let you in on this plan if I didn’t know you’d be safe?” he asked in a dangerously low tone. “Do you seriously think I’d be stupid enough to put you in danger?”

“What about the part I marry that fucking lunatic?” you raised your voice, stepping closer to him, making him take a step back from the table. “Did you think about that?”

Seungcheol went completely still, looking at your exchange with Jeonghan. You were sure that Wonwoo and Mingyu had stopped their patrolling to hear from afar. In the very tight-knit circle that Jeonghan had crafted, you were the only one that dared speak to Jeonghan like that, not because they feared him, no.

They simply held him in too much esteem to even talk to him in a condescending way.

“Do you think I fucking want this?” he gritted back darkly.

“Well, yeah! I don’t see you having a hard time telling me to marry him!” you shouted back, limbs trembling in rage and despair.

Jeonghan ran a hand all over his face, muffling a short sigh. “You can’t ask me to have him killed if you’re not willing to do something to–,”

“I go back to him every fucking night, Jeonghan!” your voice was becoming raw from raising it. “I sleep in his bed, I pretend I like him! I can’t be his wife!”

“It’ll be for five fucking minutes!” he said, not quite screaming but his voice was harsh. Harsher than you had ever heard him speak.

“I don’t want to marry him!” you said exasperatedly, throwing your hands at your sides.

“I need him distracted, vulnerable. I need him surrounded by all of his men and far away from the docks. I need everyone in that wedding to believe that you were on his side,” his eyes shone with a madness that if you had been smarter you would have avoided.

“I can’t do it,” you said in a mere whisper. “Please, don’t make me do it.”

“Fuck,” he gritted, scrunching his face in annoyance, he turned away from you, cradling the back of his head with his hands. “Fuck!”

Seungcheol sighed heavily, but in his face there was something written that clearly said, I don’t have anything to do with this. He turned away, raising his hands as he excused himself from the conversation between you and Jeonghan and walked off to the entrance, where the other two men were still snooping. 

Jeonghan turned back to you, still pissed off by the darkness in his eyes, his brow deeply furrowed. Every step he took toward you brought a dull heaviness that made you swallow hard.

“Go on with the wedding, we’ll stop it before it’s over,” he said, tightening his jaws, delivering the next words in that same dejected manner: “You won’t be his wife.”

You could feel the loud thumping of your heart dying down little by little, but your breathing remained erratic, looking at him in utter disbelief. “You bastard,” you hissed, pointing at his face with one finger. “You would have me married to him!”

“He’ll die that night,” he put in simply, clearly not understanding what your complaint was.

“You–,” you gritted, smacking your hands on his chest in a fit of rage. “You’re just like him! You’re all the fucking same!”

“Stop, stop it!” he hissed, grabbing you by the wrists, stopping your feeble attack at once, and pulling you into his chest. “We need to play into his game, like it or now. What if he really suspects about us? What if he already knows that it’s me you’re having an affair with?”

“What if he doesn’t?” you asked, your tone dropping to a mere whisper. “What if this is just him trying to exert power over me? To own me more than he already does?”

Jeonghan went rigid, gritting his teeth as he let out a breath through his nose to calm himself. “He doesn’t own you.”

“He does, Jeonghan,” you argued. “My name is the last thing he’ll have. I won’t allow it.”

At that, he freed his grip on your wrists, but he did not step back. “Fine,” he breathed, clearing his throat once. “I won’t let it happen.”

“I’ll play along during the ceremony, but I won’t say yes,” you conditioned, feeling more at ease once he conceded to you. 

Jeonghan closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids fluttering as he released a sigh of resignation. “You know I don’t want you to do this,” he muttered reluctantly. “You know I’d fucking kill him tonight if there wasn’t so much to lose.”

“Don’t expect me to agree to do things I don’t want,” you replied, the weight of your reaction finally falling on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve–I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m just–, I can’t stop thinking that he knows,” he stammered, blinking utter obfuscation.

“I know,” you whispered.

“I just want to get this over with,” he muttered tiredly, much as if it had drained him to argue with you. And you knew that it was likely, as your body came down from the stress of fighting with him, your limbs grew heavy.

“Trust me, me too,” you dared lifting a hand and cupping the side of his neck. “Listen, when this is all over, we could go somewhere for a while, to forget about this, yeah?”

Jeonghan smiled lazily at you. “You’re not mad at me anymore?” he quipped mischievously.

“Oh, you’re not off the hook yet,” you pointed, giggling shamefully. “I’m still mad, but I will let it slide for now.”

“Mmn,” he hummed pensively, cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling with your hair as he pulled you into a feather-light kiss. “We could go to London,” he muttered. “Or Barcelona.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered into his lips.

“You could take your anger out on me then,” he mumbled, giving you quick heated kisses.

“What about you?” you asked with a low hum as his hand clutched at your waist. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Absolutely,” he said under his breath, even though the sound came ragged, you could feel the smirk spreading on his lips slowly. “Raising your voice at me, hitting me, saying I’m the same as him… You’re in big trouble.”

“Am I?” you challenged, enjoying that glint in his eyes when you pulled back. “You know I didn’t mean that last part,” you said sheepishly. “I was just mad.”

“I like it when you’re mad,” he grunted, his arm sliding on the small of your back to pull you in closer to his body. “I’m afraid I like it a little too much.”

“Seriously?” you giggled, shaking your head at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you like getting on my nerves,” he muttered, kissing you so obsessively that you hummed, trying to pull away from his continuous kisses.

“Jeonghan,” you mumbled, muffling out a short gasp when he started kissing you deeper.

“What?” he replied aloofly.

“There are people in here,” you gasped, pushing a hand on his chest, breaking away from his lips with great reluctance.

“I really don’t care. Do you?” he challenged, grabbing your face with one hand, and squeezing your cheeks a little.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed, giggling in his mouth as his hands slipped on your waist pushing you against the side of the table, your lower back firmly pressed against it.

“What?” he spat now, but you knew he was just challenging you with his tone, his dark eyes piercing your face.

“They’re watching,” you whispered, motioning to the men standing by the entrance to the hangar.

“And?”

At that, you knew you had nothing to say. In the short time you had come to know Jeonghan, you knew he did not give a flying fuck about what people said about him. And he knew that no one would even bat an eye if he decided to take you right there on the table. It was nothing foreign to him, or you now that you were his.

“Do you mind that they’re watching baby?” he asked softly, his hand sliding from your lower back to your waist, squeezing you gently. “You did not have anything to say when we did this back at the workshop…”

You giggled in his mouth when he pressed a chaste kiss on yours.

“Or at the old factory…” he husked, pressing a wet kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Or in the garage…”

And he could go on and on.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head to one side so he could continue marking your neck with his kisses.

“I hate fighting with you,” he confessed, his voice low in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You know that. But you love arguing with me.”

“I don’t,” you breathed, excitement building up in the pit of your stomach, making your fingers tremble in nervousness.

“Don’t lie. You love to rattle me, I think you like to see me mad,” he said, cupping your cheek with one hand to command your gaze to his.

Jeonghan was a different person whenever he got mad. Whenever he was working, he was cold and calculated. Whenever he was with you, he was sweet and caring. But sometimes, you did not know what to expect.

But the truth was, you also liked it when he was mad. Only after the conflict dies down or is resolved, is when you think of how strangely alluring he is whenever he is angry at something.

And Jeonghan knew. 

“Only sometimes,” you replied, flustered by his kisses.

“Mmn, yeah I know,” he said, pressing more kisses on your neck again.

Jeonghan tugged at the hem of the neck of your blouse to uncover more of your skin. He leaned down to kiss your collarbones, humming delightfully when in the process he got the smell of your perfume.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, closing your eyes when his hands came to cup your breasts, enjoying that your bralette allowed him to feel your nipples over the fabric.

“What?” he answered, lifting his head to be eye to eye with you.

You gaped at him for a second, burning under your skin. “Are you going to punish me?”

“Mmm, maybe,” he taunted, a wolfish grin slowly tugging his lips. “Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his tone dropping to a sweeter one.

You bit your lip, nodding your head dumbly.

An airy giggle was muffled in your mouth as he leaned to kiss you, moving down to your ear. “You’re such a needy girl,” he rasped, against your skin, making it prickle. “Open your mouth.”

He cupped your jaw in his palm, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he leaned closer to spit on your open mouth. His warm spit landed perfectly on your tongue, nearly making you swallow as an instinct.

Blushing, you looked at him with your mouth hanging open, waiting for his command. He released your jaw, but you did not dare to close your mouth. Jeonghan smiled at this, knowing that you would wait until he permitted you to do so.

“Close it,” he said, and you did what he asked, but did not swallow. His eyes shone with fascination, looking at you before he decided to let you swallow his spit. “Swallow, baby.”

When you did, he gave you a rewarding kiss, but you knew that the punishment had just begun. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

“I talked down to you,” you replied, squirming slightly when his hands grabbed you by the waist.

“What else?”

“I yelled at you,” you added airily. His hands went down to your hips, going underneath your skirt to feel your thighs, cupping your ass over your tights with a low grunt from him.

“There’s more.”  

You hummed shortly, cupping his nape with one hand, the other clinging onto his shoulder as he groped your ass, kissing your neck. “I hit you. I cursed at you,” you mumbled, feeling hot in the face when you heard hushed voices in the distance.

“There’s one more,” he husked, ignoring that you were both being on open sight.

“I compared you to him,” you stammered. “I said you were just like him…”

“Am I?” he asked, grabbing your hips to turn you around.

“No,” you said, leaning over the table as his hand pressed on your back, the other hiking your skirt up. You crossed your arms beneath your head, hiding your face away from the men that clearly saw Jeonghan bending you over the table.

“I didn’t hear that,” he muttered gruffly.

“You’re not like him,” you said louder, gasping pathetically when you felt his fingers pinching the flimsy material of your tights, ripping a hole into them easily. “I said it to spite you.”

The slap resounded all around you, followed by your yelp. Jeonghan caressed your ass where he just had delivered a firm spank. You muffled a moan when he gave you a second spank, making you ball your hands into fists.

Jeonghan enjoyed this. He liked to take you whenever and wherever he pleased, he did not care if there was someone around, as long as you were in on it too. He liked to see how far you could go with him, and so far, you had never said no.

You enjoyed this just as much as he did.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” he asked gruffly, giving you another spank that sounded even louder than the other two, this one hurt so bad it had tears brimming in your eyes.

But you just burned for more. “Yes,” you mumbled lewdly. Your skin was hot, tingling, and sore. You felt your arousal starting to pool in your panties.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Good girl,” he sighed, bringing his hand down on your ass again.

“God,” you coiled your fingers tighter, moaning when his hand caressed your sore area.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked with a lazy tone, caressing your skin lovingly with one hand, while the other kept your skirt up.

“I need you,” you drawled at once, your cheeks radiating with embarrassment that you did not even want to be worked up. “Don’t play with me... please, sir.”

Jeonghan laughed, making you bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m just getting started,” he sighed, tearing the hole in your tights further. “Want my cock already?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, covering your face with your forearms. “Want it so bad… ngh–,”

His fingers prodded in the middle part of your panties. A flashing thought told you that he might just rip them in two, but instead, he gently moved them aside, using two fingertips to rub your entrance.

“Mmn, baby this got you so wet,” he sighed, pushing his fingers inside you, eliciting a raw moan out of you, so loud that you were sure now that everyone was fully aware of what Jeonghan was doing to you if they were not before.

“Please…” you drawled, squishing your cheek on the table closing your eyes to focus on his long fingers massaging your walls. “I need your cock so bad. Please, sir.”

“Mmn,” he hummed, causing wet sounds to come from the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

Your face was blazing hot, to the point you felt the tips of your ears pulsating with warmth too. “Please, Jeonghan… I’ll be good, please. I won’t talk to you like that again.”

“Why should I believe you this time, baby?” he asked with a soft tone. “I remember punishing you for that exact thing last time.”

“I’ll let you… I’ll let you breed me.”

His fingers stilled inside you, and you heard a soft sigh that made you think that he was smiling. “Fuck… fuck, baby,” he let out a raspy chuckle.

You turned your head over your shoulder, sending him a meek look as he undid the button of his jeans with one hand, while he pulled his fingers out of you, taking them onto his mouth to lick your arousal off.

In quick succession, he moved the zipper of his pants down, pulling his cock out. A shudder flashed all over your body when you noticed the precum smeared on his reddened cockhead, he was fully hard for you.

“You’re not winning this time,” he rasped, placing a hand on the small of your back before he began pushing his cock inside you.

Your jaw went slack, a raw moan spilling from deep within you as his cock stretched your walls open. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you mewled lewdly.

He sheathed himself inside you with a guttural moan, your walls throbbing around him as he pulled back slightly, and pushed in, thrusting shallowly inside you. “So fucking tight,” he sighed blissfully, closing his eyes.

“Jeonghan!” you urged lewdly, trying to get him to understand that you needed him to fuck you harder, faster.

“Shut up,” he snarled. “You don’t get to make demands,” he said, pleased that he was in control, making you utterly his.

You gasped, pushing yourself with your hands on the table to try and meet his hips with your own.

But Jeonghan stopped your plan at once, bringing his hand on your ass with a harsh spank. “Stop that,” he ordered. “Be a good slut for me and behave,” he said darkly.

“Please,” you sighed, pressing your forehead on the table. “Faster…”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he said, pushing his hips against slowly, his hips meeting your ass passionately as if he wanted to explore your walls with his cock inch by inch.

You imagined what the other guys in the hangar would think of this. Were they watching? Would they get turned on? You sneaked a look at the three figures standing by the entrance. They were pretending to be busy with something else, chatting with each other.

Jeonghan noticed where your gaze wandered to. A hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you in, so you were now standing up, back arched for his powerful thrusts. You whimpered at the change, feeling his cock hit a glorious spot inside you and kept ramming in on you.

“Jeonghan,” you choked out, barely even making out his name.

“Do you like that they’re watching you?” he asked, nudging the tip of his nose below your earlobe. “Eh? Do you like that they can hear how fucking wet your pussy is?”

You let out a shaky moan, grabbing his hand that was circling your neck, keeping you up as he delivered more powerful thrusts inside you. Feeling him raw, hard, and ramming fast inside you made you so horny you felt like crying. You wanted him so bad, and the mere thought that he had no intentions of stopping, or to come on your skin made you irrational, animalistic.

“Yeah,” you mewled, holding onto the table with your other hand.

The hard and fast manner in which he plowed on you was making your body bump into the table in front of you, making it squeak.

Seungcheol raised his gaze swiftly at you and quickly drew it elsewhere, the unwilled act of making eye contact with him drove you to moan louder, your pussy walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck, baby,” Jeonghan sighed blissfully in your ear. “Such a needy slut for me, so good.”

You nodded your head dumbly.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pushing his hips sloppily against your ass, the sound of his skin slapping against yours resounding across the place. “I’m gonna knock you up. Make you mine forever.”

“God, yes, yes, Jeonghan,” you gasped, arching your back more for his thrusts.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you… gonna be so round and pretty with our baby,” he said, his voice waning under so much pleasure and that mad frenzy he got into whenever he even thought about knocking you up.

“Please, please, please, ah—gah!” you moaned loudly, now drawing Mingyu’s gaze your way, then making him lower his face in utter shame.

“Keep watching them,” he ordered in your ear, thrusting hard and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he made you his forever… before he would spill his seed inside you. “I want them to see how good you are for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you said languidly, looking at the men pretending to pace from one side to another on their perimeter patrol. Wonwoo was the only one that had not looked your way, but you were completely sure that he was aware that you were being fucked by Jeonghan.

“Good girl,” he sighed, releasing his grip on your neck to slip it underneath your bralette to cup your tits with a raw moan. “That’s what you are, a good fucking girl for me.”

You grew more and more embarrassed, but you could not stop watching them, fishing for more reactions. None of them dared to look at you again, but from the looks they exchanged with each other, you could tell that your loud noises had rattled them.

“Jeonghan…” you called breathily.

“Sshhh,” he placed a sweet kiss under your earlobe, his hand slipping down to your tummy. “I’m gonna come, and you’re going to take it all. I’m gonna make you a mommy.”

“Please, I wanna come too,” you said, turning your head so you could see his face. “Please?”

Jeonghan showed you a light smirk, he looked tired and overwhelmed with pleasure. “That’s too bad, sweetheart. You’re not coming tonight.”

“Bu-but Jeonghan–,”

“Sssh,” he brought a hand to your cheek, giving you a chaste kiss, gasping softly before placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m coming—, god, baby, fuck. Fuuuck.”

“Hannie,” you uttered your last plea, but you knew it was too late.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…” he gasped, over and over, as he pressed his hand flatly on your tummy, pushing his hips languidly against your ass, spilling ropes of cum inside you.

You knew by the amount of sloppy thrusts he gave you that he came a lot inside you. You moaned at the thought of him coming inside you, painting your walls with his cum, repeating obsessively that you were his, no one else’s.

Jeonghan breathed raggedly on your shoulder, keeping his hand on your tummy for long enough until he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb. He slowly raised his head, placing a small kiss on your shoulder over your clothes, then on your bare neck, then on your cheek.

“My pretty girl, you drive me insane,” he rasped, sighing a giggle.

“I’m sorry,” you drawled lazily, turning again so you could see his beautiful eyes.

“No, you’re not,” he cooed at you, his smile growing wider. “I know you. I know you’re not sorry.”

You giggled with him, instantly being swarmed by a fluttering feeling deep within your gut.

Jeonghan stilled, his smile starting to disappear little by little. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes roamed all over your features. He pulled out of you then, his fingers swiftly placing your panties back in place to keep his cum from spilling out down your legs.

“I’ll take you home,” he decided coldly, tucking himself back into his pants at once.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you muttered, confused by his sudden change, by the dejectedness in which he had started to handle himself.

“No, no arguing with me on this one,” he said with a finality in his demeanor that made you know he was not going to take more of your retorts.

“Fine,” you huffed, fixing your clothes with a pout on your face.

“What?” he arched one eyebrow.

“You could’ve at least let me come.”

Jeonghan’s face broke into a smile, tipping his head back to laugh out loud. “You asked me to punish you,” he shrugged.

You climbed onto the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s big SUV with a sigh, fixing the folds of your pretty skirt.

“Hey,” Jeonghan held your door open with one hand, stopping you from closing it. “Baby, look at me,” he said.

Your tummy fluttered upon hearing the sweet tone he used with you. “Yes?”

Jeonghan leaned inside the car and over you, sneaking two fingers beneath your jaw. “You know I would never put you in harm’s way, right?” he asked, and you could see on his face how much that question had messed him up. He drew his eyebrows in, and you saw a glint in his eyes you had never seen on him.

“Yeah,” you said, lifting a hand to his cheek, feeling sick for making him think that he was the same as your fiancé. “I know, babe.”

Jeonghan pressed his forehead against yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his own. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. We are so close to ending all of this,” he muttered. “Then it’ll be just you and me…”

“I know. And I know this stresses you out. But please, try to be more considerate,” you replied with a small smile that he felt as he pressed his lips against yours.

He giggled softly. “Alright,” he conceded with a raspy voice, pressing more kisses on your lips. “I’ll be more considerate. Just because my favorite girl asks.”

“Ah, favorite girl?” you backed off a little to show him an impish smile. “Does that mean you have other girls?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was amused. “Yes. Many.”

“Mm, I’m falling behind. I should get other boys, then,” you giggled.

“Shut up,” he sighed, bringing you to his face to kiss you more. “So annoying.”

 You let out a louder cackle, making his eyes shine with that fascination he never failed to show whenever you laughed with him.

Jeonghan went still ever so softly in front of you. He was a man who was completely enamored with his job You knew that his yearning for crime was greater than anything else in his life.

But at that moment, you felt how deeply he felt about you. The way he looked at you, was unmistakable, Yoon Jeonghan was in love. But you also knew it would be hard for him to say it out loud. You were becoming his weakness, so you weren't surprised to see fear in his gaze as well.

That is why you could not bring yourself to say it either. Your love for him was so strong, so passionate that it scared you.

“Boss.”

Jeonghan stood up straight, turning his head over his shoulder to see Jeon Wonwoo approaching with a cautious step. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, motioning a hand before tucking it to his back. “But I think I found it. I found the warehouse.”

“Are you sure this time?”

Wonwoo nodded once. “Positive. I just got a confirmation from my guy, and it seems that there’s going to be a buyout in two hours.”

“Get the boys, tell them to get ready,” Jeonghan ordered without a second thought. “I’ll be back here in half an hour to cover the essentials.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo nodded once again, walking away promptly.

Jeonghan said nothing else to you, closing the passenger door to go around the car, slipping on the driver seat, and turning the engine on swiftly. “Let’s get you home.”

“What was that about?” you asked with genuine curiosity.

“Wonwoo has been looking for your sister. He thinks he just found her,” he said with an aloof manner as he focused on backing up the car to then put it on Drive, his hand resting on the stick for some seconds before switching to palm your thigh gently. “I’m going with them to stake it out later tonight.”

“Will you be safe?” you asked sweetly at him, grabbing his hand on your thigh, and lacing your fingers with his.

“Course I will,” he replied warmly.

When you got back to your apartment, you decided to clean up at once. One, you had to eliminate all traces that Jeonghan fucked you. So you trashed your ruined tights and your panties. And then you took a long shower, thinking of what Jeonghan told you before dropping you off.

You were towel drying your hair, dragging yourself on your slippers and a robe to the living room where you stopped short at the sight of your fiancé. “Oh, hi honey,” you blurted nervously. “How are you?” you asked with an overly sweet tone. But as he approached, you noticed that he was getting ready to head out again. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied distractedly, approaching you to place a swift kiss on your mouth, which you were too surprised to reciprocate. “I was heading out to check on some deliveries and then I wanted us to grab dinner. So, get changed. We’re heading out in five minutes.”

Some moments later, you sat on one side of the backseat of a car. Both you and Hyunjun kept silent as the chauffeur drove you to a large warehouse near the docks of the city. You looked at your fiancé curiously.

“Stay here,” he had instructed before exiting the car. And you were smart and did the right thing. For about five minutes.

The warehouse stored columns upon columns of cement bags piled on each other. They looked like small buildings as you carefully treaded your way in search of your fiancé. He already believed that you were a complete fool, so you could explore here and come up with some lame excuse if he found you. And at the same time, you would gather intel for Jeonghan. What kind of business would Hyunjun have here?  

It was an odd place, that was for sure. But you knew what kind of places gangs usually did their buyouts. This was not weird for you. So you let your intuition win and guide you, leading you down a hall full of doors. You opened them one by one, finding empty rooms. Until you opened one that did not.

Kiki was lying on a dirty old couch. She looked like she had moved in a long time. Her face was hidden beneath a cushion. You felt nauseous, heart racing in your chest as you rushed to the couch, dropping to your knees to try and turn her body over.

She was cold and frail. There was dirt collecting on her cheeks and you could see tears had dried on her skin. Her lips were chapped, and there was a bruise on one of her bony cheekbones.

“Kiki?” you whispered, using your trembling fingers to touch her, but you were so afraid to do so. “Kiki, it’s me. Wake up.”

You started crying, she was in such a frail state your mind started racing, fearing for the worst. But you had to calm yourself down, you had to act quickly for her. So you brought one finger under her nose, by her lips. And waited.

The hairs of your finger bristled when she let out the softest exhale. You checked your surroundings before deciding you would get her out of there, right there and then.

A chill ran down your spine when you tried cradling her weak body in your arms. Not because you could not do it, but because it came easily to you, being that she was so light.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you moved through the hall full of different doors, making your way out as quietly as possible, not drawing the attention of anyone, let alone your unassuming fiancé.

But that was until the first unmistakable sound of gunshots crossed the air. You stopped your escape cold, a wave of cold washing over you when you realized something. This was the warehouse Wonwoo had mentioned. Why were you here? Why had Hyunjun brought you here?

More gunshots were fired, a tumultuous happening in the distance. You took a few steps, glancing down the hallway. The warehouse esplanade was crammed with towers of cement-lined bags. The first column served as a good hiding place while you looked for a way out, so you decided to move quickly.

Carefully, you crouched to your knees, Kiki still unconscious in your arms. Panting, you took the chance to glance again, finding your fiancé’s man unconscious on the ground. It was as if there was no space in your brain to worry about anything else, all focus was on getting Kiki out of there.

But… where is Hyunjun? It was just a fleeting thought. Maybe you could drag Kiki to the nearest SUV. Maybe you would be lucky enough to find the keys stashed somewhere. Maybe you could wait until the gunfire stops.

“Sister?”

You dropped your knees on the ground for support, looking at your sister’s face. She opened her eyes weakly, your chest tightening when you saw how dead they were. Vacant, like a lifeless doll.

“Yes, Kiki. It’s me,” you cooed softly, ignoring the loud banging around you, the screaming.

“Is this real?”

Tears spilled from your eyes quickly, making you sniffle. “Yes. Yes, sweetie, this is real,” you replied sadly.

She gave you no reply, and you realized she was drifting away again. You needed to act now, you needed to find the nearest hospital. You needed to save her.

And in your hurry to get her to safety, you got more reckless.

Quickly, an idea formed in your head. You could get Kiki to one of the cars. You just needed a clear way out of the warehouse without being hit.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

There was a sinking feeling inside you as you lifted your head to look at Seungcheol. At seeing your startled reaction, he lifted his palms onto view.

“Easy,” he warned, approaching you carefully to not draw any attention. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah,” you panted, saying the next words in a quick slurry mess. “Hyunjun brought me here, I don’t know why. Told me to wait in the car. But I just got a hunch that she’d be here.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. But he crouched in front of you, a darkness in his gaze that had your gut twisting tighter. “Hyunjun is dead.”

There is nothing that could compare to the relief that washed over you when you heard those words. But you also felt a heavy guilt falling upon you. Seungcheol looked worried, not like a man who just won a war.

“That… that’s good, isn’t it?” you stuttered.

“Listen carefully,” he said, his shifty gaze not quite focusing on you. “I’m going to take your sister into one of the vans and then I’ll come back for you, you hear me?”

You frowned confusedly. “What’s happening, Seungcheol? Where is Jeonghan?”

“Hyunjun got betrayed by his men,” he said, and then you understood the burden of the situation. “He got betrayed by your dad’s men.”

“C-could my dad have done this?” you asked dumbly. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, we don’t know. He was dead before Jeonghan could even get to him,” he blurted uncontrollably, he was shaking. “Chances are that this is a sting op because half of the people out there are also cops.”

“What?” your chest tightened painfully. “Jeonghan is here?”

“There’s no time for that right now,” he said, grabbing your sister’s limp body from your grasp. “Stay hidden. I’ll come back for you.”

It had become hard to breathe. The feeling twisting your guts made you recoil back against the hard column behind you, trying to hug limbs to keep yourself out of sight.

The commotion kept on going, screams, grunts, gunshots. But you could not pay attention to that, you wanted to cover your ears, but at the same time, you needed to remain alert. You could tell that people were approaching your hiding place, and you made a motion to gather yourself to start running.

But the man came in front of your view before you could even stand up, pointing a gun at you, you made a move to crawl away, to move out of the way. He fired once, twice, the latter hitting you in the small of your back, the bullet penetrating you making your muscles contract and grow hot.

You felt confused the first second. You slumped down on the ground, then you tried to press a hand on your tummy. It was then that you felt the searing-hot pain.

Confused still, you lifted your gaze to see the man that just shot you. He was lying dead on the ground, a knife lodged in his bleeding neck.

You felt limp, your head lolling to one side before your body also dropped to the ground. A tall figure approached you fast, it was Seungcheol. He said he would come back to you.

“No, no, no, no,” he muttered, grabbing your body, and swiftly lifting you. “Stay with me, stay with me,” he said louder.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered drowsily, still feeling an echo of confusion invading your brain.

“He’s on his way back to the hangar. We’re going there,” he informed you promptly, knowing that the worry would kill you before the wide-open wound on your belly.  

“And Kiki?”

“She’s fine, we’re getting you both out of here,” Seungcheol said as he placed you in the back seat of the car, then barked some orders to someone nearby. “Get inside now.”

Kim Mingyu climbed on the back seat of the car, the deep frown on his face going lax once he took one look at you. “Fuck, she’s bleeding,” he said, looking at Seungcheol who was just closing the door to his side.

“Help her,” he ordered, driving away at full speed.

“What happened?” he asked with a worried tone, the man who was all muscle and cunning was breaking down in front of your eyes.

“She got shot,” Seungcheol gritted, sending a look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t let her pass out.”

“Let’s get you on your back,” Mingyu said, motioning over to his lap where you automatically let your head drop, lying across the back seat. “I’m going to do something you won’t like, okay?”

Mingyu waited for no confirmation from your part, and pressed one of his large hands on your belly, right where the wound was.

You cried out loudly. “Fuck! It hurts, it hurts,” you stammered, tears springing out of your eyes immediately, you tried to back away, to free yourself from Mingyu’s grasp. But you were becoming weak, and the pain numbed the rest of your senses quickly.

“Does Jeonghan know?” Mingyu asked with a heavy tone, you could not make out his face between the shadows of the car.

There was a long moment before Seungcheol replied, and it was only one word burdened with a severity that you feared. “Yes.”

Mingyu cursed under his breath. “Bullet got through, she’s bleeding out quickly,” Mingyu informed loudly, keeping steady despite Seungcheol’s fast driving. “Is the doctor on the way?”

“Wonwoo’s already told Joshua to get to the hangar as soon as possible.”

“I know it hurts, but try not to move,” Mingyu muttered at you when you tried to get his hand off your belly.

You were a mess, squirming, crying, growing drowsy, babbling out nonsense.

Sooner than you had expected, the car was pulling up to the hangar. Seungcheol jumped out to get your body from the passenger’s seat. “Get the sister inside,” he ordered Mingyu as he carried you inside hurriedly.

You were neatly placed on a cold surface, squinting your eyes at a pale white light. You were in a small room, you spotted Seungcheol’s face, he was smeared with blood all over, a worried look plastered on him.

“Where is she?” you heard Jeonghan’s voice before you could even register where you were. Jeonghan came into view, looking so pale you thought he was sick.

“I’m alright,” you sighed weakly, your belly had stopped hurting, it just pulsated in between intervals. You knew you were trying to ease his worry, though it was futile, it was worth the try. “I’m okay.”

Jeonghan did not reply, approaching you with two big steps and started looking at the damage. “Give me a cloth, something to press on the wound,” he ordered and some seconds later, someone handed him what looked like a flannel shirt and started pressing on your belly again, making a drawn-out cry come out of you. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to do this.”

You gritted your teeth, breathing rapidly. “Jeonghan,” you called.

“You’re going to be okay, baby,” he spoke softly, and although your lucidity had started to wane, you knew he was worried for you. His eyes were teary, his eyebrows withdrawn, and his hands were shaking, pressed to your belly.

Your vision became blurry and bright, forcing you to close your heavy eyelids and swallow hard.

Not yet, not yet, not yet. You knew you were dying now. “Jeonghan,” you whispered, your jaw trembling slightly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jeonghan replied, still keeping his tone sweet for you. But he was heaving, looking at you with so much worry that you nearly broke down into tears.

But you were growing weaker by the second, you could feel your blood pooling on the table you were lying.

Jeonghan’s breathing became ragged, you knew he had started to cry. What you saw in his teary eyes was pure, and utter fear. “Baby?” he breathed.

“I’m cold,” you muttered weakly.

“Hold on,” he whispered shakily, tears brimming in his eyes as he leaned over your body, pressing with more strength on your tummy. “You’re going to be fine, help is coming.”

“Jeonghan,” you asked softly, pain had eased a while ago, you could only feel the muscles of your face, the rest of your body starting to grow numb. You took his wrist, but the man pressed harder at your tummy.

“Yes?” he breathed.

You blinked dumbly when warm tears fell on your face. “Let’s run away,” you whispered weakly.

“Where?” he muttered, his voice breaking as he sniffled quietly.

You did not reply, it was becoming harder to form thoughts, your mouth was numb, and you were sure you were drifting away now. Far away, you wanted to tell him. But never found the energy to do so.

“Where, baby?” he insisted, tears rolling down his cheeks. You wanted to tell him to stop crying, you hated to see him cry. “Baby? Please, please, talk to me, sweetheart. Don’t close your eyes, keep looking at me.”

You said nothing, and although you heard every word he said, you were finding it difficult to understand him. All you could think of was that you regretted not telling him you loved him. And now you were leaving him, and he would never know.

A gentle exhale came out of your mouth, you blinked one last time. Jeonghan’s tear-stained face was the last thing you saw before everything faded to black. But you could still hear the door bursting open, a dry voice telling Jeonghan it was time to go.

“No,” he gritted. “I’m not leaving her.”

“It’s now or never!” Seungcheol barked. “Jeonghan, they’re coming.”

A new set of hands took over. “She’s going to be fine. Step away, please, so I can get to work,” the new voice said with a calm tone.

“If she dies–,”

“If she dies, and they find you here, it’s over for all of us. If she survives and you stay here, it’s over for all of us including her.”

His cold hands released their grip on your body with a reluctance that you could feel even with your eyes closed. A ghostly kiss was placed on your forehead, it was quick, but you could make out his final promise.

“Wait for me, baby. We’ll find each other again,” he whispered.

And then you drifted to sleep.

› epilogue

The streets of the town were deserted.

Jeonghan made his way down the steep sidewalk as the dawn crept on the pavement. The sky was clear, the air felt nice, cold against his skin. As he approached the end of the street, the lake came into his view, making him notice the humidity in the atmosphere.

He cast a look over his shoulder, even though the only thing he could hear around him was the sound of his footsteps, the certainty was what he needed. Every morning, he went out to do some checkups, just to appease the paranoia in his head.

His hands got clammy as he approached the door, turning the handle quietly as to not make any noise, and pushed inside, tucking one hand behind his back.

“There you are, I was beginning to wonder,” you chirped softly, arching one eyebrow. “What do you have in there?”

Jeonghan bit down his lower lip, trying to conceal his smile as he showed you a big bouquet of fresh flowers he had hidden behind his back.

Your face fell in shock, making the man burst out chuckling. “What’s this? You got me flowers?”

He paced inside the tiny home, handing you the flowers. “Just because,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm, you’re in a good mood this morning,” you grinned, closing your eyes due to the proximity of his face to your own.

But you accepted the bouquet, running the pads of your fingers on one of the soft white petals.

“I’m just really lucky,” he muttered, swiftly reading your face, smiling at you.

“Babe,” you tilted your head in utter adoration for him, you lifted a hand to cup his face. “We’ve been through this. We’re fine, were safe.” 

Jeonghan took the hand from his cheek, planting a soft kiss on your palm, shaking his head slightly. “Being on the run with me isn’t fine,” he muttered with a pained look on his face. “You deserve a better life.”

In fact, you were laying low in a quiet town in a different country. You have had to start over again multiple times since you ran off with him. Jeonghan was implicated in the events that went down that night and he had to run away, leaving you behind.

Jeonghan kept his promise. Your sister was safe, and you could start from zero now.

The journey to finding him was not easy. It took you months to get even a sign of life from his part, and you knew he only wanted to make sure you were safe before he tried to seek you out.

It was even harder to convince him to come to where he was. But you waited, knowing that it would take him some time and insisting to concede.

You lowered the bouquet on the table, now using your other hand to brush his short hair back. “Hannie, don’t say that,” you whispered. “All I want is to be with you. I’m happy, and I’m safe.”

But you knew he was heavily ridden with guilt, feeling that it was his fault that you got shot and injured. And now that you had to be on the run with him, he felt like you were not living a worthy life.

He pushed his eyebrows in question, pouting softly. “Happy?”

You giggled at his expression, looking so innocent and cute. “The happiest,” you muttered, wrapping his neck with your arms.

His gaze relaxed once he heard your laugh, lifting a hand to pinch your chin as the other squeezed your waist. “I’ll make you even happier.”

You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. “Thank you for the flowers. I love them,” you whispered. “I love you.”

“For my favorite girl,” he replied in kind. “I love you too, baby.”

› author's note: hi there beautiful readers! (●'◡'●) i want to start this note by saying that i struggle with writing about dark themes such as this one, (gangster-related things). so this served as an exercise/challenge? i hope you like it! anyways, toodles support me on ko-fi? © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[chrissv4mp]

MISS ME? ᝰ.ᐟ

warnings. smut, angst, fluff, fingering, g!p (girl penis), p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, car sex, switch!billie × switch!reader, added characters, porn with some sort of plot, language.

synopsis. billie eilish. everybody knows her: the girl who always left both men and women in the dust during her races. you've been the starter to each one of them, and recently, you've noticed she hasn't been showing up. it's been two years, and when a big new name comes into town, billie's quick to pull up to reclaim her special title. and her girl.

au. g!p street racer!billie × starter!reader

words. 6.7k

letters. let's excuse my horrific description of street racing—and just cars in general.... also, i'm re-reading this and just now realizing i only made one reference to 'just keep watching...' the song i was originally taking inspiration from—alongside '2 hands' and 'sports car'..... anyway, enjoyyy!!! i had so much fun writing this 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

there's a stretch of road just outside of the city no one uses anymore—too bumpy for traffic, too dark for cameras, and too far out for any law official to care. potholes like craters. traffic lights flickering yellow every now and then. most maps don't even list the name of the street anymore.

but the second the clock ticks past 11pm, the place lights up like vegas. and everyone who matters knows where to go.

you're always there before the first wave of engines start to pull in, headphones slung around your neck, pistol on your waist, boots up on the concrete barrier like you own the damn place—because you basically do. since you were just sixteen. an older girlfriend of yours had brought you to one of the races, offered to let you shoot the starting pistol, and you fell in love with it instantly. the adrenaline. the rush. and now, five years later you're not even the slightest bit bored.

your clipboard's tucked under your arm, pen behind your ear, eyes focused on the roster of names and heats for the night.

behind you, the old lot's filling fast—old imports, mustangs, beat-up chevys with rebuilt engines and matte paint jobs that already have scratches. headlights making the dust particles visible, exhaust rolling low and thick through the air. cars park in crooked rows beside yours, grills gleaming under the floodlight hung on the power pole. some racers lean against their hoods with their arms crossed, scoping out the competition. others are all talk, loud and gassed up, trying to seem special before they even touch the start line.

you don't flinch when engines rev. don't move a muscle when someone pulls up too close. you've been the starter long enough to know who's real and who's noise.

and you? you're something in between. not a racer. not a spectator. but the one who calls the shots, drops the flag—the signal that turns waiting into war.

people watch you more than they should. and, yeah, you notice, you just don't care.

the boys flirt. some ask if you've got a favorite just to see if you'll flatter them. you never do.

you do have a favorite, though.

but you never say her name. not anymore. not after she kissed you without informing you it was her last race and just up and left without another word—without a proper goodbye, without a proper way of letting you know how she felt towards you.

though, you do still say things like: "no one ever drove that curve like she did," or "that start? it was okay. my girl used to redline smoother."

or the one that always riles them up—"mariah's fast, sure. but she wouldn't beat my girl. not if they went head to head."

and that's when they start arguing.

"you're crazy."

"who the fuck even is 'your girl'?"

"mariah would kill her."

you let them talk, let it go in one ear and out the other. you don't bother answering them when they ask who she is. don't mention that you still check the list every week in hopes of her being on it. you don't tell them she's the only racer on the track who ever had your heart stuttering when she looked at you from behind her tinted windshield and smiled like she already knew how the night was gonna end.

it's nearing midnight when a particularly loud engine rolls into the lot, and you look up quickly—a cherry red charger, engine purring low and smug. some whistle. some cheer. others hold up their phones like they're filming something that can only be seen once in a lifetime. mariah moore.

she kills the engine and steps out slow, calm. mariah's a whole show: gold hoops, leather jacket, acrylic nails brushing her tan cheek as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. she doesn't look at you, not at first. but you can feel the way the air shifts.

someone murmurs, "she's takin' it all."

you shake your head mindlessly. your mind drifts. like always.

because even with mariah here—the biggest name in street racing, fastest in the city—she doesn't make the street rumble like billie did, she doesn't even compare to the way billie had your palms sweating and your breath hitching.

you don't say it out loud. but she's already here.

lingering in the sound of a loud bass in someone's car. ghosting through the exhaust haze. trapped in the back of your throat each time someone asks, "who's your favorite?"

they all think mariah would crush her just because you keep her nameless. but you know better.

you know what it felt like when billie pulled up the line, slow and sure, making everybody forget who they really came to watch. you'd recognize the sound of her engine from a mile away, the melody of the song that was always playing when she rolled in.

you're leaning back in one of the old metal chairs under the check-in tent, clipboard in hand now, pen in the other, trying to make sense of the barely legible names scribbled in sharpie and faded pencil. the lot feels more alive than any other night before—laughter echoing off the crumbling brick of the nearby warehouse, engines revving in an effort to intimidate others, bass rocking a few cars subtly.

someone slides up next to you. aiden, one of the other starters. tall, kinda weird, always smells faintly of gasoline and peppermint gum.

"you got heat one lined up yet?" he asks, leaning in to scan the paper over your shoulder.

"workin' on it," you mutter, squinting at the mess of names, pen caught between your teeth. "who the hell wrote 'slim jim with the jaguar'? i swear, these guys are getting out of control."

aiden laughs, full and loud. "hey, that's jaxson. he's been coming out since last spring. you'll probably remember him once his muffler explodes again."

you shake your head with a soft laugh, but your attention stays sharp. you've done this a million times—balancing chaos, keeping things moving, occasionally breaking up a fight or two. you're not just the starter, you run this area of the streets.

"alright," you say, tapping the paper. "heat one is jaxson, reneé, and..."

before you can finish, a silhouette of black and red steps into your peripheral.

mariah.

black leather jacket, tight red crop top, sweatpants low on her hips like she owns the pavement. she walks like a girl who knows she's untouchable—chin up, hair falling over her shoulders effortlessly, eyes locked on you.

"got my name on there?" she asks, voice smooth.

you glance up, meet her gaze. unreadable, but steady. it doesn't faze you at all.

"heat three," you say, clicking your pen and tapping the paper again. "against miles and taylor."

she hums, eyes scanning the list and sighing like she's disappointed. "figured i'd get someone tougher. guess not."

"miles' been doing pretty well," aiden chimes in. "heard taylor's been doing overtime off the track to prepare."

mariah shrugs, uninterested. "i'll dust 'em anyway."

"real humble, moore," is what you want to say, but you keep it in your mind. you don't doubt her words, you just don't feel like she has the right to brag that much just yet.

so you just nod instead, standing up and setting the clipboard on the table beside the flags.

"check-in's by the cones," you say simply, nodding toward the start. "just tell 'em your name and they'll put you in the lineup."

mariah doesn't move right away. she lingers. eyes still on you, tilting her head just a bit to meet your gaze.

"...you seem quiet tonight," she says. "nothin' like before."

you raise an eyebrow, eyes flicking to hers, "and what was i like before?"

she grins. "flirty. sharp. mouthy as hell."

you scoff, turning toward the cars. "maybe your conversations just aren't as flirt-worthy as the other girls' are."

aiden laughs a little, then starts to walk away when mariah glares at him.

mariah laughs, low and real. "okay, starter girl. i'll catch you after i win, sound good?"

you don't respond, instead offering a single nod that doesn't really come off as one. but the second she walks away, that flicker starts again. and not from her. definitely not from her.

from the back of your mind.

the itch of a ghost. again. billie, who always made you stumble over your words like no other—nearly making you forget to shoot the gun when she sent a wink your way from inside her car.

you don't even realizing you're scanning the lot again until aiden comes up and nudges your side.

"expecting someone else tonight?"

you blink. "nah."

but the lie tastes bitter. because billie's name isn't on your list. and you're still looking for her anyway.

praying silently that you'll hear the low hum of a bass line later in the night, that you'll feel the familiar vibration of her engine beneath your feet, through your body.

you look over at the start line just as matthew waves you over. heat one is lined up a few feet behind the line, engines revving, the racers exchanging glances.

the crowd goes quiet as you walk over, starting pistol in one hand, the other resting casually on your hip.

you raise your arm, breathing in deeply, eyes locked on the cars—then you shoot the gun.

they're off before you can even process it, a silver camaro speeding past the line quicker than the others. everyone bursts into loud cheers for their separate bids, others only screaming just to scream.

it was always comforting hearing the cheers and laughter coming from the crowd—even if they weren't for you, it felt like you were still getting your flowers each time you shot the gun and everyone erupted into a loud choir of excitement and happiness. you thrived on it, but never would you dare get behind the wheel and actually drive in one of the races.

billie always terrified you with the way she drove—sometimes with only her knees, other times with one hand while she went 100 on the last curve before she really stepped on the gas and flew down the finish line in first place.

you recall the times she asked you to ride with her. "everything's always better with you. like... like a good luck charm," she'd said to you, fingers twirling a strand of your hair between her fingers before one of the biggest races of her life—and the last race you'd seen her at.

the sound of an engine quickly approaching broke you out of your trance. jaxson's purple jaguar skidding across the finish. reneé comes in second, her black audi following a few feet behind.

then the crowd erupts in mixed reactions, some angry and sad, others screaming and jumping around happily like they've just been rewarded with a million dollars in cash—which, in reality, no bid today was even a quarter of that amount.

the next heat passes by slower than the first, a few rookies taking the wheels of cars that they definitely spent their entire life savings on and didn't research at all.

it's all heat and noise around you—couples kissing over the hoods of cars and girls arguing about something that sounds like a cheating boyfriend? you can't really hear over the loud, obnoxious rev of mariah's charger at the start line, the hood just a few inches away from your legs where you stood between her and her opponent.

you felt the atmosphere change as soon as her name was called to the line. the crowd went quieter, murmurs filling the night instead of loud hollers and disapproving boo's for opposing racers. you couldn't blame them, she was the biggest name in street racing right now—but she was no billie eilish. nowhere near that territory. she didn't even compare to your girl. not now, not ever.

but still, you can feel her eyes on you before she even rolls down her window, smirk calm and cocky. "promise me a date if i win?" it makes your lips curl into a small, amused smile.

"what's the point?" you say, tilting your head to see her better. "i already know taylor's gonna beat you by a mile."

mariah laughs once, hollow. "yeah, funny joke."

you cock a brow. "never said i was joking, moore."

aiden snaps at you off to the side. you don't bother giving him a mere glance. instead, you just walk over to mariah's window and lean over, lips so close she feels your breath on her skin.

"fine," you whisper. "but if you pull some shit like you did last time, except to be blacklisted from any future race you're lookin' forward to."

her expression change is so subtle you're sure nobody would think she's fazed even in the slightest, but you see the way her brows furrow just that little bit, the way her lips twitch in that cocky grin that's wavering on nervous now.

"good luck," the tone of your voice is sweeter than before, eyes softening as you walk back to the middle and pull the gun from it's holster in your belt.

mariah rolls her window back up slowly, eyes locking onto the road in front of her as silence envelopes the crowd.

pop.

and they're off.

everyone lets the quiet continue for a second longer before going insane. grown men are screeching like little girls as they scream mariah's name, bouncing on their toes as they watch her clear the curve. smooth. calculated.

everything she does almost looks staged.

taylor trails behind her in a white bmw m3, drifting around the curve and momentarily grabbing first place. you can feel the tension from all the way across the track, your own heart pounding wildly in your chest—the deal with mariah sounds stupid now that you're watching her keep up with taylor.

"shit," you sigh, stepping back from the track quickly and running a hand through your hair, eyes never once leaving the cars.

aiden walks up just as you say it. you hate how he always has the worst timing. "finally see why mariah was named the best?"

you shake your head, and it slips from between your lips before you can stop it. "no, just finally realizing how stupid i was for promising her a date if she won."

he smirks. "same thing."

the final stretch of the race has you clutching onto your pistol, breath caught in your throat—it's mariah and taylor. miles isn't even in the question anymore, having spun out near the first curve.

it's a blur of white and red as they pass the finish line, engines roaring over the crowds applause and screams. not even you can tell who won—and it seems that neither can the girls as they come to a stop and jump out of their cars, their breaths still controlled as if they didn't have everyone on the edge of their seats.

matthew runs to watch the playback, and you swear you see his hands shaking as he brushes past you.

it's quiet as everyone watches him rewind the tape from the camera at the line.

one beat.

two.

then, "mariah moore. first place by a millisecond."

it's even louder than you expect it to be—people honking their horns while hanging out of them in the parking lot, groups of friends crowding each other and jumping up and down, someone even pulling out a megaphone and starting a chant of mariah's name. that makes you let out a quiet giggle.

but as you watch mariah jump back in her car and park it off to the side, nothing's funny anymore—because her next stop was definitely your house, picking you up late in the afternoon tomorrow for the date.

mariah hops out of her car again, strutting over with even more confidence and cockiness than before. her eyes are locked on you, smile growing, hair flowing perfectly in the cool night air.

she stops in front of you, already pulling her phone out of her back pocket. "think you owe me—"

the sound of an unexpected rev catches everyone's attention. including yours—in fact, you're the first one to turn your head in the direction of the noise.

your heart nearly jumps out of your chest.

that familiar vibration of a bass through blown-out speakers, the thick exhaust smoke trailing behind the car—the car.

billie's black dodge challenger.

mariah is the last thing on your mind now, your eyes locked on the windshield, hoping you'd see her sexy grin even through the dark tint that was definitely illegal. she doesn't even park in a space, just stops in front of the check-in tent and gets out, jordan's hitting the ground lightly, shorts hanging low on her hips despite the temperature, brown strands falling over her shoulders.

the crowd has the same reaction as they did before mariah's race, but the murmurs are louder—more curious.

"is that really her?"

"holy shit, i thought she was gone for real."

"time for mariah to retire."

"didn't she quit?"

billie doesn't spare them a glance. her focus is set on the check-in table, steps long and filled with confidence that even had mariah crumbling a little. you watch as she walks toward aiden, who stood behind the table with a clipboard in hand. he looks up, and you swear you see his jaw drop.

"i want a race," she says—no, demands. firm. unrelenting. "the best you've got. can you do that for me?"

aiden stutters, struggling to find his voice as he steps forward. though he was starstruck, he was also very strict on the rules. "i—i'm sorry, we've already got everyone in their assigned heats. there's no—"

"nah, i don't think you heard me," billie brushes him off, shaking her head with a smirk that you always saw when she was getting pissed off. "i want a race."

"yeah, and i said—"

"she's right here, eilish," you cut in, motioning toward mariah, and billie's head turns instantly. the smirk on her face grows into one of excitement, eyes glinting with something you can't quite name.

the brunette scoffs, his eyes widening. "y/n, you can't—"

you eye him. "she's billie fuckin' eilish. go read an article before denying her again."

billie laughs quietly, pushing off the table and walking over to you, stepping between you and mariah, who she doesn't pay any mind. her eyes flick to your lips, biting down on her own before finally looking you in the eyes.

"miss me?" she whispers.

you shrug. "did you win yet?"

her smirk grows. then she gives a shrug of her own and raises her brows. "we'll see."

mariah steps forward just as billie steps back, the two of them now side by side in front of you. their eyes gravitate toward each other, both of them giving the other an obvious once-over before billie speaks.

"mariah moore," she murmurs. "i've heard about you. best racer in town as of now, yeah?"

"yeah," mariah answers quietly. "you must be billie. haven't shown up to a race since 2022, correct?"

the question has no obvious bite, but the tone in which she says it has billie poking the inside of her cheek in frustration, nodding her head instead of saying something stupid.

"hurry up, girls," you interrupt, nodding toward the line as they both look up at you.

"yes, ma'am." they answer.

billie jogs back to her car quickly, jumping in and pulling around to the line, the crowd pulling back and forming a path for her. it's nearly silent now as mariah reverses just behind the line again, the low hum of both engines setting the mood.

tension is high as you step onto the track again, planting your feet firmly onto the small sliver of pavement between both cars.

you look over at billie, who flashes a smirk before turning back to the road, lips lowering into a thin, tight line. once she was focused nobody was able to break her out—not until after she won the race.

then you glance at mariah, who's already staring at the road, gripping her steering wheel tighter than she did when put up against taylor and miles. the last race scared her, you could tell in the way she was so quiet after jumping out of her car earlier—so there was no doubt she was terrified right now.

your eyes flick to the pavement behind them, pulling out your gun and raising your arm, elbow straight. you inhale, exhale.

the gun goes off.

and so do billie and mariah.

billie's challenger jumps forward first in your peripheral, and you turn quickly to see who gets the starting advantage. it's billie, per usual. the adrenaline running through your veins is 20x more strong than it was when you were watching mariah's race. because after not seeing billie race in so long, you're unsure if she still has it.

but you don't lean into the doubt just yet.

mariah's red charger weaves around billie's challenger, taking the curve perfectly and bursting out of it. she doesn't get far. billie kicks her gear lower and speeds past mariah with practiced ease, accelerating quick and drifting on the last curve.

you hold your breath as mariah creeps up on billie, engine revving loud as she tries keeping up with her—but billie's already got the length of a car hood between her. the crowd screams in anticipation, watching as billie bolts through the finish line and slowly comes to a stop.

mariah follows behind her, tires not moving nearly as fast as billie's were. the crowd is speechless, not even hollering coherent words anymore, just babbles of nonsense and excited cheers and squeals.

billie reverses with her head sticking out of her window, a proud grin on her face as she parks just off of the track. she steps out, and you can already feel the smugness radiating off her even from a few feet away.

she walks over to mariah, tapping her shoulder and holding out a hand. "good race," she compliments. "'m'not bad, considering i've been gone since 2022, right?"

you see mariah's expression flip quickly, brows furrowing in frustration as she pushes away from billie and mutters something under her breath.

billie's in front of you before you can even announce the winner—even though it's clear.

"let's try this again," she breathes, taking your hand and bringing it up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "miss me?"

your hand finds the collar of her shirt, pulling her close, lips mere inches away from hers. "you know i did."

you don't let her get another word out before kissing her. hard. passionate. like you've been waiting for this since the last moment you saw her. because you have. you've been waiting for it so desperately and now you finally get to do it.

her hands find your waist, pulling your hips forward, pressing your body flush against hers as she kisses you back just as passionately, eyes fluttering shut, heart thumping against her chest so loud she's sure you've already heard it.

you pull away abruptly, breathing hard. "let me show you."

billie doesn't miss a beat—and you don't even care about the small, sharp pain in your wrist as she twists it, dragging you toward her car and practically shoving you into the passenger seat.

you swear you hear aiden call after you, but billie's already pressing on the gas and speeding out of the lot without a second thought.

she doesn't drive far from the noise, pulling off to the side directly under a blue streetlight, a ray shining in through the tinted windshield. billie shifts into park, then glances over at you, still breathless.

neither of you say another word. you just climb over the center console and straddle her lap, legs pressed against either of her thighs, hands snaking up her chest and around her neck, squeezing lightly just to hear her gasp.

then you lean forward, lips finding hers, rougher than before—dirtier because you weren't accompanied by a large, judgemental crowd. billie's tongue presses against your lips, asking politely for entrance. you grant it without another thought in your hazy mind, moaning softly against her mouth when you feel her tongue clashing against yours.

her hands slide down your body, squeezing your waist gently. then they move down to your ass, pulling you down against her lap, pulling you closer to her like she wants to morph your bodies into one.

"don't ever fuckin' leave like that again," you growl against her lips, kissing down her jaw, then scattering open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of her neck.

she huffs a laugh, head falling back against the headrest, eyelids fluttering shut as she lets out a small, relaxed breath.

your teeth nip softly at her pulse point, eliciting a pained hiss from between her pretty lips—you soothe the bite with your tongue, sucking gently, the sensation a contrast from the sharp pain just moments ago.

billie brings a hand up to your hair, fingers tangling in the messy strands of your hair. "thought you'd have forgiven me by now."

a scoff escapes your throat at her words, but it dies down into a surprised gasp when she bucks her hips up, something hard pressing against your clothed core. a shiver runs up your spine.

"don't get an attitude with me now, sweetheart."

you roll your eyes, lips pressing back onto her skin, one of your hands snaking down her chest and slipping under the hem of her shirt, fingertips teasing the smooth skin of her stomach. her breath catches noticeably, pulse jumping under your tongue.

"i have every right to have an attitude with you," you grumble, palm finding the cup of her bra and squeezing through the fabric. "i should fucking hate you. i mean, you kissed me and then up and left without another word. a text would've been enough, billie."

billie bucks her hips again, groaning at the pleasure.

"let me make it up to you then," she pants, slapping your ass.

her hand untangles from your hair, sliding down your neck, your chest, your stomach, before eventually snaking down into your little shorts. the damp spot on your panties is enough to make her moan, eyelids fluttering open to meet your eyes as you gasp.

she stares directly into your eyes while stroking your clit through your panties, biting her lip and smiling as she watches your brows furrow in pleasure, hands finding her shoulders, nails digging into her skin even through the fabric of her shirt.

then she slips her fingers past the cotton waistband, fingertips sliding through your soaked folds, running along your dripping slit and slowly pushing in two of them. the moan that escapes your throat is long. loud. like you've been holding it in for her since before you can remember.

your eyes roll back when she scissors her index and middle fingers inside of your cunt, thighs trembling around her lap, nails unrelenting on her shoulders.

"yeah," she coos. "there you go, baby girl. just needed me to fill this greedy pussy of yours for you to shut up, hm?"

billie lets out a moan of her own when you roll your hips forward, pressing down just enough for her to feel it through both the fabric of your pants and her own. she bites her lip, hips bucking up involuntarily as she watches you get off on her fingers.

she inhales sharply. "so tight, too. fuck," she breathes. "been waitin' for me, haven't you?"

you nod mindlessly, jaw falling agape when billie pushes her fingers deeper, thumb finding your clit and pressing down hard. if that wasn't making you see stars, the added pleasure of her lips on your neck definitely was.

"billie, oh my fucking—" you cut yourself off with a guttural moan, hips stuttering against her palm. "god—i—fuck you."

you feel her grin grow against your neck, lips so soft and plump and mind-consuming as she continues kissing you, fucking you. deep. hard. passionate.

"in a minute, doll," she teases. "can't even be patient and wait for my cock. so fuckin' greedy." she murmurs, kissing her teeth.

a low whine of frustration emits from your throat at her teasing, walls clenching around her fingers as you feel your orgasm start to approach quickly. your breathing goes shallow, quick, short breaths falling from between your kiss-swollen lips.

"shit—gonna, oh my god, m'gonna cum!" you whine.

billie huffs. "c'mon, mama. make a mess f'me."

and you do.

with a loud, broken moan, your walls flutter around her fingers and you finally feel the knot snap in your tummy. she slowly works you down from your high, muttering sweet nothings into your neck as she leaves a litter of kisses all over your skin.

her free hand creeps up your chest, fingers wrapping loosely around your neck—casually. like she owns you.

and after this, maybe she will.

"this make up for my absence?" she hums, thumb running along your pulse point, feeling it jump under the pad of her fingers. she presses down, eliciting a gasp from you.

you laugh quietly, but it cuts off into a disappointed moan when billie slips her fingers out of your cunt slowly.

she brings them up to her lips just as you open your eyes, pushing them in, plump lips wrapping around lengthy digits, tongue moving between the crevices and licking off every last remnant of your sweetness.

cold blue eyes never leave yours, eyelids hooded and dark with lust and desperation—and love, above everything.

you bite your lip, already pulling off your shorts and ruined panties, throwing them into the backseat. "m'still mad at you. but i know what'll make it better..."

billie releases her fingers with a 'pop,' a smirk growing on her lips once again. she cocks an eyebrow, tilting her head, eyes finally leaving yours to trail down your half-naked body. her eyes land on your dripping pussy, clit swollen and puffy, arousal leaking down your smooth thighs. she groans.

"yeah, and what's that?" she inquires, hips already moving.

silence. instead, you answer with your hands—fingers undoing the button of her jeans, then pulling down her zipper. you lift yourself slightly, tugging her jeans down until they fall to her ankles.

there's a small damp spot on her boxers, a large bulge prominent in the dark fabric, straining against it. billie whimpers when you cup your hand over the print, hips lifting instinctively at the touch.

she hisses when you squeeze gently, your eyes finally snapping up to hers.

"this—" you squeeze her again. then adding, "—inside of me."

billie nods eagerly, hands leaving your body, moving quickly to pull down the last layer of fabric that was currently denying her access to your core. she could feel the warmth stronger now that her lower half was clad in only her boxers.

you lift your hips again, helping billie tug the fabric down to ankles, joining her jeans. her cock springs up, slapping against her lower stomach softly before standing at attention.

her tip is a light red, leaking profusely with pre-cum that spills down her 9 inch shaft until it reaches the base. she's already such a sticky mess and you've hardly touched her.

it made you giggle.

"looks like you missed me more," you tease, looking at her through your lashes.

billie sighs, nodding again, hands scrambling to find your hips again. she tries pulling you closer, tries to even run the tip of her cock through your slick folds—but your nails dig into her forearms, and she yelps quietly.

"hypocritical much, don't you think?" you giggle again, and billie pouts deeply, hands relaxing on your hips. "patience, baby—remember that?"

you lift yourself higher, positioning your dripping slit directly over billie's tip, and you hear her breath hitch before you even sink down in the slightest. and when you lower yourself, billie lets out a noise you weren't sure she was even capable of.

she whimpers brokenly—high-pitched and already hoarse—as her cock splits you open, stretching you out slowly as you continue to lower yourself until you reach the base.

billie's nails dig crescent-shaped indents into your skin, the pleasure already too overwhelming.

"fuuck," she groans, dragging it out. her head falls back against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. "you—fuck—have you, mmh, always been this t-tight?"

you moan softly when you feel billie buck her hips up again, her tip kissing your cervix. she gasps at the feeling, cock twitching between your gummy, warm walls.

her mind goes blank.

you stay in the position for a moment longer, trying to adjust to her size. your hands wrap around her neck, nails scratching along her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. the feeling of your breath so hot on her lips has her in a trance she's not sure she'll be able to break out of.

billie leans forward to capture your lips in a needy, sloppy kiss just as you start to move, hips lifting until all that was left inside of you was her tip—then slamming back down. hard. desperate.

both of your moans are muffled against each other's mouths, lips parting. you sneak your tongue into her mouth, tasting her—and she falls apart even further underneath you, fingers twitching at your sides.

your hands slide across her neck, hips grinding fast, hard, just right for the both of you—billie squeals into your mouth when she feels you clench around her.

"baby, fuck," she grunts, grabbing onto your hips tighter and thrusting her hips up, pushing her cock deeper. "missed you, missed you so—god, i missed you so much. c-couldn't stop thinkin' about you."

a moan passes by your lips when you pull away. "yeah? touched yourself to—shit—to me?"

billie nods frantically, brows knitting together and jaw falling lower. her hips stutter—a clear sign of her impending orgasm. but you don't stop. don't even pull away or slow down in the slightest.

you needed it. needed to feel her cum inside of you.

the windows fog around you, and now the blue shine from the streetlight is hazy, different shades of blues spilling in through the windshield and onto your bodies and faces. you can feel the car shaking beneath you two.

but it only urges you to keep going.

harder.

faster.

billie mewls quietly, struggling to hold herself together. "holy shit—baby. baby, baby, m'gonna cum! can't hold—fuck, i can't hold it, i—"

"cum, bil," you moan. loud. breathy. "want it—need it so bad. please, please cum inside me."

the second that jumbled sentence left your mouth, billie let herself go—body trembling, mind short-circuiting. your jaw falls open in a silent moan at the combined pleasure of your own orgasm and the feeling of thick, warm ropes of her cum painting your insides.

billie whimpers beneath your body, nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck like she needs your scent to stay alive.

it's all heat and heavy breathing after that—the windows still fogged, skin still layered with a thin sheen of sweat, loose hairs sticking to your neck and forehead. billie stays with her face in your neck, arms wrapping around your back, your own hands still around her neck.

billie pulls out slowly as not to overstimulate you any further, helping you lift yourself off her lap. you lean over the center console and grab your shorts from the backseat, pulling them on once you're seated in the passenger side.

you watch billie pull up her own boxers and jeans, buttoning and zipping them with trembling fingers, still facing a few of the aftershocks of her orgasm.

and, though she's still spent, billie's the first to talk.

"...do you forgive me now?"

you can't help but giggle—you wonder how she still even remembered the situation you two were in. it slipped your mind the second you sunk down on her cock.

"i think you know the answer to that," you exhale, stroking her damp hair gently.

billie hums, then pulls away from your neck, eyes softer than you'd ever seen—sincere, a little worried. "...yeah, but i wanna hear you say it."

your face changes, features softening once you hear the quiet, shaky tone of her voice. fear swirled in the pools of her ocean blue irises, and it's only then that you realize she really was worried about this the entire time.

taking her face in your hands, you pull her close, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of hers. she bites her lip, an unreadable expression flashing over her features—fear again, maybe. or maybe it's hope. you can't tell.

"i never hated you for leaving, billie," you explain. firm. "it just... scared me. i thought you wouldn't come back, and i almost lost hope—until tonight."

a ghost of a grin curls on billie's lips.

"so, yes, i do forgive you. even if i still think kissing me before leaving without another word was really low of you," you murmur.

billie inhales, exhales. "i know, that—that was stupid of me."

her lips find your cheek, then your forehead. and, finally, your lips. and then she looks at you again. "nationals were just... they were all over the place, and i finally realized that i had some sort of feelings toward you. but i didn't know what they were—"

"—and when you were the first one to come up and hug me after i won, i just—i felt so full of love and adoration and it all just spilled over and—" she pauses. finds her words. "and i kissed you because i felt like it was too early to tell you..."

she trails off, voice going quiet near the end. she looks away for a moment. and when she feels your thumb brush across her cheek, her eyes snap back.

"...to tell you that i loved—that i love you."

your breath catches.

it's not what you expected her to say—far from anything that popped into your mind. but everything you were thinking quickly faded as soon as she said those three little words:

i love you.

words that you'd only hear in teasing tones from drunk guys who came up to you during races, from racers that were still riding high on the adrenaline they got from winning.

but now, hearing it from billie, it felt like your whole world shifted on it's axis.

billie's cheeks flush pink when you don't reply, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and nearly pulling away from your touch—but you pull her back. into a kiss. one that's far more passionate than the ones before. it's filled with something you can't describe with words. something far stronger than love and adoration and admiration.

when you pull away, you're both out of breath.

"i love you, too," you murmur after a beat, eyes never leaving billie's. you wanted her to know that you meant it.

and, by the look on her face, you were almost 100% sure it got through to her. a cheesy smile curled up on her lips, her teeth shining bright even in the dark space of the car. you return the same smile, and billie practically throws her arms around you.

she pulls you as close as she can over the center console, nose nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent—and it felt like she was smelling an entire different person. because now there was a weight lifted off her chest and a something new blooming in her heart.

you hold her just as tight, unable to get rid of the stupidly big smile on your face—especially when you feel billie's fingers twitching nervously on your back.

you both just hold each other like that for a few minutes. in silence. but it's not an uncomfortable silence, far from it. it's warm. gentle. filled with shared understanding.

and, suddenly, you forget that she even left in the first place.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @partyf4vor @chxhir0 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 chapter 13 part 2 (book 7 finale!!) thoughts

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 13 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 328 to part 349.

This (finally) conclude book 7!!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

ALRIGHT FELLAS, LOCK IN.

We open with a scene of the final confrontation against Malleus (like one of Yuu’s dreams/visions).

Everyone is slowly waking up. UHHH it’s not a pretty sight though, Malleus has grown into his full dragon form and crashed through the ceiling. His voice is becoming distorted. (No live 2D sprite, only a blacked out version of his OB form.)

Mob students panic and almost trample themselves to escape. Us first years brace for impact but suddenly…?! CROWLEY saves us?! YEEEEEEAAH DAD CAME BACK WITH THE MILK LET'S GO 🥛

Crowley commands the staff and dorm leadership to help the students get away. Crewel and Trein use ice magic but it’s instantly melted. (Sam tends to their wounds!) Vargas is knocked back trying to protect students with his body. (Kalim flies him to safety!)

The dorm leaders command their vices to lead their students out. Some notable ones: Jade leads, Floyd is in the back chasing them. Jamil takes charge and tells Kalim to guide people on the magic carpet. Because Ignihyde has no dorm leader, Ortho tells some of their students to be the leaders for the others. Ruggie leads Savanaclaw.

UUHHHHHHH the only person that has not woken up is Lilia. He’s still sleeping at dragon!Malleus’s feet. Silver is freaking tf out OTL calling out to Lilia, trying to wake him, but it doesn’t work.

Sebek is terrified and claims he can’t fight Malleus, he is just too powerful! Chevfowrgwiwj ADEUCE KICK HIM AND SEBEK’s SO inSuLTED HE DECIDeS TO JOIN THE FiGHT AGAIN

Malleus is sending thorns after us to “capture the humans”. ASDHHKAHDLA The tone of voice he takes on is scary, it's like we're farm animals that escaped a pen and he's trying to toss us back in there.

We cut to Ignihyde xjsvsjkw IT’/s A PlOT POiNT THAT iDIA iS OUT OF ShApE, he’s struggling to reach the meetup point to collect the sword, shield, and armor to fight Malleus with. Igni mobs A, B, and C run support and provide him with a magical wheel, which Idia happily accepts.

LOL his mom says he looks cool, just like a prince!! (EW WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT MRS. SHROUD... DON'T MAKE ME THINK IDIA IS COOL.)

The vice dorm leaders (minus Jamil) have led the mobs to main street. There, they collide with Idia.

The dorm leaders (excluding Kalim) are staying behind to stave off Malleus. Us first years ignore evacuation orders and come back.

LILIA FINALLY WAKES UP (not sure why he took longer than everyone else; I thought he wouldn't wake at all and Malleus was keeping him asleep as his "most precious" thing to protect???) 😭 but his magic is so weak he cannot even summon a flame. Begins to cut through the briar instead.

The OB boys are close to irl OB and cannot hold off Malleus for much longer. LMAO. Rowley is crying at the amount of physical damage to the school vjsbfiwhfhskdmd

When all hope is about to be lost, HERE COMES THE MOTORCYCLE REVVING SOUNDS— Holding out for a hero moment fr 💀

OH MY GOD THERE IT IS, I WAS RIGHT WITH MY THEROYT

The armor made of mystium changes form depending on the pilot… Silver assumes the Dawn Knight’s armor and Sebek takes on the same armor his grandfather gifted him in Lilia’s dream.

Malleus scoffs at them and says he will melt Sebek’s shield—but Sebek says there’s no way, because this was something made with the strength if both fae and humans!! Malleus feels betrayed learning that even his grandmother stands against him.

Sebek corrects his liege. They are all standing WITH Malleus. Silver agrees. To prevent Malleus from completely losing himself and becoming the “ruler of evil”, they MUST stop him here and now.

Man. This really is mirroring the Dawn Knight and Maleanor battle. (Believe even the dragon sprite used for Malleus is the same form his mother takes.)

Malleus blows away Sebek’s shield and Silver rushes to protect him. DBHLsiflaiyDSLBI THEY'RE REENACTING THE EVETSN OF THE PAST

LILIA GETS IN THE WAY?!?!!!??!

In the moment of surprise, Idia uses technomancy to control Silver’s sword to hit Malleus’s horns.

Malleus post-OB flashback!

Ahhhh, so it begins with the senators blessing him with mighty powers. Then we see some memories of him growing up.

Malleus has a maid doing his hair but he gets hurt by the teeth of the comb or something?? His anger strikes the maid with lightning and he apologizes, but another servant (or was it a senator, I forgot) tells him don't apologize, it was the maid's fault. Maid is escorted out.

Next is Lilia coming to visit Malleus; Malleus is so happy and laughs really loud. This shatters nearby windows and lodges glass in Lilia's ears. Malleus panics, but Lilia reassures him it's fine.

Last memory is of him on his birthday; Malleus sees fireworks outside but isn't allowed to go out. His grandma is away on royal duties, so he has to eat a big dinner by himself. He's so sad he instantly freezes all the food and makes the servants super cold.

His black and white lament allows him to express that he was born with mighty powers, but what he really wanted all this time was to be able to express himself, to be with other people. "I just wanted to get angry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry." One line I found particularly poignant was this: “At the table where everyone shares their joy and their sadness… There is no seat for me.”

And… he calls his blessing(s) a curse. This is a parallel to Idia, who realized that what he thought was his own curse was actually a blessing that allows him to be “powered up” by blot!!

Screen goes white and Lilia appears before Malleus. UMMMMMM I 'M SCARED, DON'T LIKE THIS FRAMING. IT'S VERY SIMILAR TO IDIA IN BOOK 6 TALKING WITH DEAD!ORTHO AFTER HIS OWN POST-OB FLASHBACK...

"I have to go soon, too."

"Lilia? Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it. Like you said, 1000 years will pass in the blink of an eye."

Malleus finally wakes up from his OB. Idia stops the Ferrymen from advancing to attacking Malleus with their oars (the same ones they used to neutralize the other OB boys in book 6).

HIS HORN?????? IS IT STAYING LIKE THAT FDOREVER?????? ? ? ???

h U HHHHHHhHhhh

LILIA DIED (like these sick fucking devs played a heart rate monitor FLATLINING) and Silver’s hair going back to blonde is proof his blessing is gone 💦💦

Malleus crying sprite, but at what cost… (Surprisingly is able to cry without summoning a storm??)

Malleus, Silver, and Sebek cry (Idia pulls us away to give them alone time 💦 guess he is socially aware enough to understand this.) Malleus tries to use his magic to revive Lilia.

There’s glowing from Malleus’s broken off horn and Silver’s ring???? Magic comes from a strong wish, so he and Malleus wish for Lilia to return. Malleus states “I love you” to Lilia and that’s what does it.

qbfuvILFIsFIPFw IT'S THE DISNEY POWERE OFR LLOVE SAVES THE DAY TROPE

We skip to a few days later. Mobs are chatting about the extent of Malleus’s magic; Maleficia, Ambrose, and Crowley did a press conference appearance about the catastrophe.

UMMMMM

Ace mentions there is now a Fairy Dream Life Association made up of Malleus fans who sdjlbblsaiadbsi actually preferred the dream worlds to their realities???? (IT GIVES ME KINDA CULT VIBES) We learn that it will take Malleus's horns 100-200 years to grow back and he cannot use his UM or other disaster-level magic during this time.

Dorm leader meeting!!

Idia lets everyone know that S.T.Y.X. created a new classification a few days ago specifically for Malleus. He is now being considered the same as a natural disaster, and they've developed a safety protocol + policy for what to do in the case of Malleus again. Basically, he should be treated LIKE a natural disaster (earthquake, hurricane, tornado, etc.). In other words, don't engage or try to fight, just hunker down and wait it out. This label cannot be erased, appealed, etc.

Okay, WHAT 🤡 I know that we were desperate to stop the spread of Malleus's magic + aiming to limit the damage he does, but apparently there were NO deaths at all, NO damage (beyond NRC, I believe), and only SOME NRC students got injured. That's... all OTL REALLY???? ?? ? ??????? ??NOTHING ELSE??? ? ?? ???? ???? Sounds kinda like bullshit to me, but okay.

Silver and Sebek are currently hospitalized, but they're supposedly recovering well and should return to class soon. (Really???? In only a few days' time??? Magic must really speed up the recovery process.)

Damage to Diasomnia dorm was quickly fixed up with fae magic. Maleficia donated a bunch of rare Briar Valley literature and technology to NRC for free as an apology for the trouble Malleus caused.

aASDIUBADBOIAFFIA WOW apparently Lilia is reenrolling??? He somehow recovered some of his magic. Riddle explains it as being similar to medical cases in which a patient spontaneously recovers for no discernable reason.

IULADFBFIYOAAFAFID Crowley drops the bomb that Malleus is also returning to school, which freaks the other dorm leaders out. Idia reveals it's likely because Crowley wants funding from the International Magical Security Organization (IMSO), which has promised to give money to support whatever area houses Malleus during his rehabilitation period or something. asfihloadbyfasyafsi IMAGINE NOT WANTING MALLEUS SO BAD THE GOVT HAS TO GIVE MONETARY INCENTIVE TO HAVE HIM IN TYOUR VICINITY

Crowley excuses this by saying the teachers agree Malleus should return. After all, as along as you wish to learn, NRC will not turn away a student. He also says that this is important for promoting diversity and enhancing the understanding between humans and fae. adihbabilfaifasi SCROWLEY'S ALSO PLEASED BECASE HE;S BEEN GETITNG A LOT FO GOOD PUBLICITY, NRC IS EEING HAILED AS HEROES.

We cut a few weeks later to Ramshackle, where Yuu and Grim are writing down details about their dream with Mickey. This is the only mention of Mickey in the update; Yuu going home and what Mickey is up to is NOT addressed again. Yuu just says they wonder what he's been up to/they want to see him again.

Sebek and Silver pop in for a visit!! Silver's hair is silver again. Apparently he asked Lilia to bless him a second time. Sebek makes a joke that it would be weird if his name was Silver but his hair was gold; then shouldn't his name be Gold?

Other first years arrive!!

Mmmmm... We get some lore about Sage's Island??? There was a powerful master mage that lived here 2000 years ago. But this mage had an apprentice that had trouble controlling his own magic and brought about a great disaster because of it. Instead of banishing this apprentice, the master mage scolded his student and did his best to teach him everything he could. That is why the schools on Sage's Island try to follow this philosophy of welcoming those that want to learn.

First years speculate that there must have been other incidents in the past where powerful mages got out of hand. They must have been forgiven too, right...? Like the sorcerer's apprentice was.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE

Silver and Sebek claim it took them 1 week to heal from their injuries. Their magic healthcare must be cracked because that recovery time is INSANE.

Suddenly?????? Invites pop up???? It's from Malleus! He's inviting his peers to a party on May 15th (Silver's birthday), to be held at Castle Wildrose (which has been reclaimed and made into an official neutral zone belonging to no country). A carriage will come and pick them up.

The carriage is pulled by a talking direbeast???? FHABFAIBA HE REFERS TO YOU, GRIM, ACE, AND DEUCE WITH -SAMA!!???!

We arrive at the venue at last, and...

WHOA, UM... MALLEUS NEW FIT??????? 😭 King look?????? Emo lookin' ass/j He looks so much like his mother here, but they don't really explain why he's wearing this??? (Up until this point, I believe he was being studied, tested, and monitored in S.T.Y.X. facilities.)

This looks SO weird, I'm not used to seeing his pale ass chest out...

Malleus asks Silver and Sebek to step forth. OFMMAFOJ;IAFLIUAFIEAF OMG ALH HERVURQ3TVOFEVYFSOIfsihadgouvaegipaf hE'S OFFICIALLLY KNIGHTING THEM??? ?? ? ??? ?

Sebek is henceforth known as the Knight of Lightning. Silver will be the Knight of Dreams.

Silver interrupts and asks if he can donate his armor to NRC and S.T.Y.X., as he feels he couldn't have saved the day without their efforts. This way, they will also have something to use in emergencies. For Silver, he says the title alone is enough.

Malleus agrees and splits up the Dawn Knght armor. He asks Silver what does he want instead?

(Silver's new look, after Malleus strips away the armor.)

They confirm that Silver is now 18 years old. So that means the official ages stated on Twst profiles are the ages they are at the start of the school year??? And they "aged up" as the main story went on?

OH MY GOGSH ADSKHLADBSLISDBAIADBSILBIADS IT'S HAPPENIG YOU GUYS, SIVLER'S ASKING LILIA IF HE CAN POSSIBLY TAKE ON HIS SURNMAE AND FORMALLY BEOCME HIS SON

Lilia says he was wary about it because the name Vanrouge sounds bloody + invokes the color red. It was a name given to him by the queen, he doesn't think it suits Silver. But Silver insists, so he relents. ADFLIYOAFADFYPADFAF MALLEUS OFFICIATING IT TO THE ONLOOKERS

Idbskwnkwwk IS THiS THE OMEDETOU EVA SCENE OTL

Lilia and Malleus hold hands and helps Lilia use Far Cry Cradle?? Which revives the memories of Castle Wildrose... including the fae soliders, the Silver Owls, the guardian fairies... INCLUDING Maleanor and the Dawn Knight who once resided there.

adsbihlffuadyoadfiadf SOH???? ? ??? ? ? ? AND SILVER'S MOM, QUEEN LEAH... She looks so gentle and kind, wah... Pretty lady...

Woooow, those memes about book 7 ending on a dance party twistune/rhythmic aren't just memes anymore OTL Somehow they're able to dance with their dead parents even though I'm SURE this isn't possible, realistically speaking.

Context for Dawn Knight Silver's SSR! Malleus and Lilia playfully change the color of Silver's cape between blue and pink. They look like they're having a lot of fun with it!!

Malleus speaks tenderly to the memory of his mother, even though she cannot respond and is just a phantom of the past. Silver does the same to his parents, thanking them for loving him, protecting him, and "not taking Lilia away." I'm SO glad that we got confirmation that Silver has no ill will toward his blood family, he just doesn't have it in him to hate.

asfhulailafiafd SEBEK CRIES BECAUSE HE LOVES HAPPY ENDINGS OTL MY BOY... YOU CAN SEE HIM CRYING IN DAWN KNIGHT SILVER'S GROOVY TOOAW LH ABHFDOVEFUOVQEFUOUfobaegvaegbiFINPdw jCUTIEPIE

Grim grabs us and says let's dance the night away!!! ... And that's what we end on KJBFIUABUIDABIDSGIPAF tTHE FRAKING DANCE PARTY MEME OTL (No preview for what may come next!)

OKAY, that was a whirlwind of an update 😭 As much as I screamed this entire post, it was mainly from shock and not because I necessarily enjoyed everything presented. I feel like Twst got TOO ambitious and wasn't able to deliver on the follow-through because they set up so much. It definitely feels like there's tons of room to expand because there's still unanswered questions about Yuu going home, Mickey Mouse, Crowley's intentions, Grim's OB (we didn't see him eat a blot stone this update, shockingly), and the upcoming interscholastic magift/spelldrive tournament. What we got this update, considering the length of the book as a whole... It honestly felt TOO short. I know, I know, I've been complaining about the length of book 7--but the problem is that the resolution for all this build-up felt rushed, so it doesn't feel genuinely resolved. I'm sure they'll go more into the fallout and consequences next main story update (again, lots of stuff left to explore), but it's going to hurt knowing this is what we're digesting until then.

Some parts of this update I liked a LOT. Lilia's death, Silver finally taking on the Vanrouge surname, SEBEK SOBBING, and Idia being a badass on a magical wheel!! It was also nice seeing the staff members ADULTING for once (especially Crowley, WOW) and helping out. Same thing as previous update, I loved that each student gets a little time to shine by evacuating students or holding off Malleus.

Other parts... I did not like at ALL. I knew from the start that they weren't going to commit to TRULY killing anyone (otherwise Twst would lose a very marketable character), but it really sucked that Lilia dropped out + died for all of 5 seconds before magically being reenrolled and revived with the Power of Love. Very Disney-esque, but it still sat wrong with me. The party at the end was nice, but it confirmed all the memes about forgiving Malleus with a dance party.

My big issue with this update was how... AFRAID the narrative seemed to be to hold Malleus accountable and to have him make up for what he did. For example, they kept stressing how the damage he did was 'contained', how no one died, how only some NRC students were injured, how the buildings he damaged got patched up easily with magic, etc. What was especially offensive, however, was when they mentioned the history of Sage's Island and how there were other mages who caused disasters like Malleus did; those mages were scolded + forgiven and not exiled, so they should offer the same to him. Okay. But that... that feels like you're trying to say "It's okay that Malleus did this, because OTHER people also did this!" It sounds like you're diverting attention away from Malleus's actions by pointing out that other people did similar things. We're not talking about those other people though. We're talking about MALLEUS DRACONIA, who is responsible for the CURRENT crisis. Don't try to distract us by talking about other people 💦💦

And really, what did Malleus DO to fix things???? I get that he won't be able to use his UM for a long ass time, but what about his relations with the world at large? His grandma is getting on TV to say sorry but why isn't Malleus also doing that??? Why is he throwing a party and ONLY apologizing to NRC when he arguably endangered many more people???? Should he not also be saying sorry to S.T.Y.X., his country, and all other countries????? OTL Like, I don't think he should be thrown in jail or physically harmed as "further" punishment, but I want to know what steps he intends to take to correct what he has done. An apology to everyone is the very least Malleus can do.

I'm also leaving this update confused about how tf Lilia's UM works??? Because previously we knew he could see the memories associated with objects, right??? What object is he calling the memories from, the whole CASTLE???? Is this only possible because Malleus held his hand and boosted his magic or something??? Okay... but then why are both the fae and the humans of the past both there happily (I assume happily because those memories were able to dance with their children without issue)??? Aren't those two separate memories from two different points in time??? Because I cannot imagine a reality in which both parties were in the SAME space, at the SAME time, and NOT at each others' throats. It feels like Twst breaking its own logic and lore just because it would be cute to have this moment between parents and children. And how come we saw Silver's mom Leah but not Malleus's dad Raverne???? Surely Raverne must have bene in Castle Wildrose before, considering that's where his WIFE resides??? And during the rhythmic/twistune I also saw a Silver Owl and a Briar Land soldier dancing together… even though they wouldn’t???? So many questions...

I don't know. I just have so many mixed thoughts on this ending. I always knew in my gut that I would never be completely satisfied with it, because there are limitations with the media involved, expected tropes, an unnecessarily high amount of hype riding on this, etc. Man. What we got in the end was... okay? Okay, but still lacking in certain areas. I just hope a future main story update fills in those gaps.

I guess I don't have anything else to say but... This truly was our Twisted Wonderland 💀

[reverie-starlight]

would you want to be a manager, a coach or something entirely else in he knb universe?

DEPENDS ON WHICH CHARACTER I’M FOCUSING ON!!! cause for Kagami I have a whole backstory (…and fic in the notes app) in which I’d be a childhood friend from California and all that…

but I think in general I’d like to be a manager, haikyuu made that position seem really fun 😭

WHAT ABT YOU!!!!!

[junhuiscent]

—𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Your boyfriend, Woozi, gets jealous when you pay attention to Hoshi at dinner instead of him. When you get home he ends up proving who you belong to and leaves a reminder to Hoshi.

—𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Woozi x reader (ft Hoshi)

—WC: 2.1k

—𝗰𝘄: smut with no plot (tiniest bit of plot), unprotected sex, jealousy, degradation, mean dom, sub reader, fingering, slight dumbification, dirty talk (kinda icky), phonecall during sex

You were sat, shuffling in your seat around the booth, with the normal group of friends that surrounded you when your boyfriend took you out to see them, yet the atmosphere felt entirely unfamiliar. Opposite you, sat your boyfriend, Woozi, whose eyes had not left you and the occupant of the seat neighbouring yours once. Woozi had been quiet the whole day so it was to no ones surprise that you ended up talking to the lively, mood-maker that is Kwon Hoshi.

You countlessly attempted to ignore your boyfriend’s hovering gaze as you engaged in conversation, but his lingering eyes only made you want to push him further. You had calculated the perfect time to swiftly glide your hand over Hoshi’s arm, amidst laughter.

Too subtle for Hoshi to notice. Too close for Woozi not to notice.

You witnessed the darkening of your partners eyes as the enthusiasm in your response to Hoshi's words increased. You knew how to push his buttons and you’d be an idiot to not prioritise of this fact.

As the alcohol in your glass refilled, the weight of your head became more prominent and the outside world faded into obscurity whilst your head lay, resting upon Hoshi’s shoulder. You let the fluorescent bar light’s deep hum blur your senses as you rolled your head in need of comfort, not noticing the contact of your lips on Hoshi’s bare shoulder caused by your adjustment.

This was until you were promptly awoken from your drunken haze as a glass of water slammed down onto the space in front of you, the contents of the glass slightly pouring over edges and dripping into the accumulating puddle which began to decorate the table.

“Sober up.. now, please.” Woozi spoke with little expression which was also paired with the humourless line his lips were now pursed into.

You were met with these cold words which alone fought against the seductive call of your intoxicated daze. However, despite your consciousness, Hoshi picked up the glass and fed it into your mouth, you maintained eye contact with the man out of shock at his sudden action although Jihoon had already read your actions differently.

In a matter of seconds, you were whisked out of your seat, the glass remaining in Hoshi’s hand, as you landed in the grasp of Jihoon who directed you towards his car.

Once you arrived in your seat, silence, along with the steady beat of your heart were the only sounds occupying the car.

“What kind of game are you playing?” Jihoon’s words sliced through the air like a sudden, cold breeze leaving goosebumps along your exposed arms.

You didn’t know how to reply so you didn’t. Even if you had replied, the loud rev of the engine would have rendered your words inaudible. With every turn of the wheels you could view your boyfriend’s patience thinning, until you finally reached the door of your apartment.

The slam of the door closing was followed by Jihoon’s speech.

“Do you enjoy acting like a slut for my friends then?”

His vulgar language caught you by surprise, however you would have been lying if you said it wasn't the reason why you had been rubbing your thighs together. It wasn't abnormal for Woozi to swear but he had never directed that language towards you.

You turned to the side as a signal of opposition before replying, “You’re overreacting, i wasn’t even as close as you normally are with him.” You left the statement with a roll of your eyes which you knew was a mistake as soon as you did it. Yet, that didn’t explain the excitement which enraptured you within the same moment.

Jihoon pushed you against the wall wihtout hesitation, your back facing him. You could feel his sturdy grip on your arms, guiding his action, which made you feel utterly powerless in the dynamic.

“If you’re gonna act like a whore, then i’ll have to treat you like one too.” Jihoon whispered slowly into your ear, his front pressed against your back as his lips lightly graze the back of your ear with every word. You melted into his touch, this new pleasure seemingly overwhelming when paired with the apparent bulge pressing into your skirt from behind.

This light touch stemmed into slow, measured kisses which worked their way from your ears to venturing down your neck, his heavy breath following the same path and sending shivers down you to your core. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, his strength easily overpowering yours as he kept you remained against the wall without faltering.

His fingers trailed tentatively down your arms until they intertwined with your hands before twisting you to face him. The heavy weight of his gaze left you speechless. His eyes appeared to be overcome by rage mixed with desire, clearly mentally undressing you with every flick of his vision. This eye contact didnt last long before his grip sweeped back up your revealed arms, retracing his previous actions before his fingers began teasing the hem of your top. Your mind went blank as he slid off your top and attached his mouth onto one of your nipples.

You let your head fall against the wall as you arch your back into his touch. His arm slided behind your waist to hold you closer as he explores your chest with his mouth, his other hand kneading your breast.

He detached his mouth to let out a few hurried words before making contact with the other.

“I’m so much better than him.”

He kisses your breasts messily between words, his voice coming out muffled yet his power is still present through every word leaving his mouth.

“We both know he’d never be able to make you feel the things I do”

“He wouldn’t have the power to turn you into the needy slut you end up as with me, huh?”

You moan into his words, his voice controlling your body. His knee rose between your legs as he allowed you to grind down in desperation for friction. His hand promptly replaced his knee as he frantically pulls your panties down, mirroring your eagerness.

“Hm, are you this wet from me or is it from Hoshi?”

His voice makes you go numb as you choke out a pathetic reply,

“Y-You”

Jihoon enters one of his fingers inside you at your response before speaking again, as a smirk forms with his words.

“Who was it? Sorry i missed that.”

You desperately try to form the sentence he desires but all that escapes you is a moan.

“Awh, are you really that affected by just one of my fingers?” Jihoon adds a second finger. “Come on, tell me i’m better than him and maybe you’ll get more than just my fingers”

You hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself as you force the words out of yourself.

“It’s you. Jihoon. You make me feel like this. Hoshi couldn’t.” You manage to spill the words out but you are only met with Jihoon’s low chuckle as feedback.

“Do you really think a slut like you deserves to get fucked on my cock?” He speaks before pushing up your skirt, the fabric collecting in his grasp as he takes you along with him to his desk.

He pushes you onto the desk as you stumble back in attempt not to damage any of his music equipment. He promptly undoes his belt before dropping his clothing. You are met with the sight of his bulge, straining against the fabric of his underwear before it’s pulled down and revealed to you.

His length stands up proudly, veins decorating the sides as they travel up his shaft until they ultimately reach his rosy-shaded tip, precum seeping out, acting as an invitation for you. He cocks an eyebrow at your reaction before pulling you onto his lap. He steadies your hips above him as you prepare to sink down and adjust to his great size.

"Don't you need a condom, Hoonie?" You murmur out through half-lidded eyes.

This thought process is swiftly stolen from you as he forces you to take him all at once. The stretch of his dick carving out your insides as every vein drags against your most sensitive spots becoming overwhelming. You attempt to move back up but he holds you still.

“Remember what I said. You don’t deserve it, do you?”

“You’re gonna stay right here until I say so, understood?”

You only respond with a weak nod as Jihoon’s hands work their way to his mouse. The only sound you are left with is the clicking of his keyboard and the slight remnants of music which escape his headphones. You always found him the sexiest when he was working on his music, but now that attraction only appeared to be torture. Yet you were aware he was still affected, he remained hard, and every twitch left you squirming, pleading for more.

The sound of him turning off his computer acted as the saviour to your desperation as he finally looked towards you again. Your eyes finally locking again as you choke back a moan at his length twitching inside you, pushing at your insides, making you weak again.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” He asked, his words sounding warmer yet his tone still remained just as cold as your previous interaction.

“Please— Jihoon. I just want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

At your words he stood up and pushed you around to face the equipment on his desk. He allowed no time for you to prepare yourself before he slid his length into you once again, providing you with the sensation you had been longing for. His hand lay rested upon your back as he pushed you down further, allowing for the optimum angle for him to reach as deep as possible with every thrust. His pace remained constant, drilling into you at a speed which made you question if he was human. His hips rolled against you in the motion you had seen him display countless times when dancing. The same motion that pushed you forward with every thrust whilst forcing the moans out of your throat. The same motion that proved who you really belonged to.

It seemed as though your thoughts coincided with eachothers as the overlapping sounds of your moans and skin meeting with every push which had been creating a symphony of passion was interrupted by the sounds caused by his ringtone. You felt Woozi's hand cover your mouth yet his thrusts didnt falter as he answered the phone.

“What do you want, Hoshi?” You heard your boyfriend call out as he quickened his pace, driving you further into his desk.

Your eyes widened at the realisation of who was on the other side of the phone. Instantly, you attempt to silence your uncontrollable moans, being aided by Woozi's hand. Your attempt proved to be futile due to the sheer speed and depth possessed by Woozi.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Jihoon states coldly into the phone as he punctuates each word with a thrust before releasing his hand from your mouth, allowing the trail of moans to travel through the phone and into Hoshi’s ears before he hangs up.

“That’ll remind him who you belong to..” You hear your boyfriend mutter as he holds onto your hips, his pace not even close to halting as he feels you clench tighter. Your boyfriend's brutal pace, paired with the control he holds over you in this moment as he selfishly claims you, pushes you further.

“You close, huh?” He speaks out into the room, aware of the way your body works as you nod into the desk you are bent on, nudging his mic further. His thrusts begin to hold more power behind them yet his pace becomes messier. His grasp travels from your hip to your hair as he pulls it lightly, causing your back to arch along with his action.

This action causes you to hiss out in pain, however at this point the line between pain and pleasure had been made indistinguishable. You feel your pleasure building with every knock against your body. Woozi leans down over your back, hugging you from behind whilst kissing patterns on your upper back and his movements somehow reaching even deeper. You sqeal out as your body locks and your eyes roll back.

Woozi doesn’t stop. His movements pick up as he works towards his high with you. You can feel him twitch inside you before he leaves with with one final thrust, emptying his contents inside you. Your knees become weak as you are left unable to move on his desk. Reluctantly, he pulls out, leaving you with a single stream of his cum seeping out of you as your mind remains blank.

Woozi gathers your hair for you before turning you around to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I really hope I don't have to remind you that you belong to me like this again, although I'm sure you enjoyed it."

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Sabo analysis time!!!!

Do you guys ever think about how Sabo didn't visit Dressrosa to see Luffy again? And him meeting up with Luffy was probably his very last option to secure the fruit, otherwise he would probably avoid it? Cuz i do…

Let me elaborate.

So here's what we know from the source material:

We know Sabo and the other revolutionaries were there since the early morning since Hack was already inside the coliseum for RevArmy snooping reasons.

The prize of the Tournament was revealed after the Revs were already there.

Sabo/Koala were not in contact with Robin to know if the straw hats were anywhere near Dressrosa as seen by Koala saying "I hear Robin-san’s here in this country, too."

Sabo confronted Luffy about getting the Mera-Mera No Mi only after Hack lost during Block B and Luffy got out of his own block.

I had always assumed that Sabo showed up to Dressrosa for the Mera-Mera No Mi and meeting Luffy, but that really isn't the case. Idk why it took me so long to figure that out, it’s literally shown in the Episode of Sabo (EOS) explicitly. Although, the EOS isn't exactly source material. I cant find anywhere stating whether its canon or not, but I cant find anything that would have it conflict with the original plot so i see no reason why it wouldn’t be. All that evidence from before is canon though so even without the EOS, this claim still holds water.

Speaking more of the evidence we have from of the episode of Sabo, we see him snooping around the Colosseum during the tournament, we see the moment he realizes that Luffy is participating in the event, and we see the moment he realizes that Luffy cant participate any further.

Like look at him here. He looks absolutely unprepared for what he knows he has to do. And after this in the scene right before he starts talking with Luffy, he’s like literally walking to him as slowly as he possibly can. Taking pauses in his stride to probably think about how much of a bad idea this is.

Plus, at the beginning of the episode when he’s visiting Ace’s grave, he says “I guess both you and Luffy are both mad at me.”

Sabo has had so many opportunities to meet up with Luffy before he actually does, both in Dressrosa and since he regains his memory. But he doesnt. Because he cant. Because he’s terrified of being met with scorn, anger, or even violence from his beloved little brother.

Finally, we see him plucking up the courage to walk over to luffy. All surroundings are silent besides the loud footsteps coming from his approach echoing in the hallway.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.

Then he stops.

Its dead quiet.

Sabo has been pretty much deadpan this entire time, but he then smiles before he says

“I wont let you have the Mera Mera No Mi, ‘Straw hat’ Luffy.”

This is a fairly serious thing that he’s saying to this man in a fake beard and outrageous helmet, and he’s terrified of this meeting with his brother, but he cant help but smile when he’s talking with him.

The conversation that continues is very confrontational, but suddenly something clicks in Luffy’s mind. His body relaxes from it’s tense posture, he starts to tear up, his speech slows,

Then he starts to scream with recognition.

That’s his big brother.

He’s alive…

He’s Alive!!!

He’s here! Right here! Right where he should be!

Alive. Living. Free!

Luffy GRABS Sabo’s face and propels himself towards him. Suffocating and probably giving his brother whiplash in that second within that assault-hug.

All of a sudden, Sabo’s fears of scorn, anger and violence all wash away.

Luffy loves him.

They have each other now.

And now, Sabo is on his way to get that god damn fruit.

Sabo absolutely didn’t think he was ready for this re-connection, but he’s so glad he went through with it.

He has his brother back, his other brother’s powers, and the bragging rights of being able to flaunt both.

This is what I'm sayin with the "seems like fire favors these brothers" post I made. The fact that both the mera mera no mi and Luffy and Sabo were all in the same place to come together at once is a crazy coincidence. How many coincidences does it take, for a happenstance to be Fate? Probably that amount.

In conclusion:

Get this man a therapist. Please.

Heres another sabo analysis if you wanna hear more

Thank you for reading my ramblings about a fictional man. I think about him a completely average amount.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 19: Four Seasons Landscaping

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: dubcon; noncon; tentacles; cumflation; plant-fucking; creampie;

A/N: Apologies if this one feels rushed. It is. Today's been remarkably busy for a Sunday so I bashed this one out quick. I left the CWs on for dubcon and noncon because fem!reader isn't into it at first, even if she gets into it pretty fast. Read at your own discretion, but this is much nicer than yesterday's

####################################

Another day, another job. You checked your docket, this sure was the address. You sighed heavily, was this another case of them giving the only woman at the firm the shitty job again, or did someone seriously see the half acre of bramble and overgrown hedges and call it "light weeding"

You may never know

First off was the perimeter hedge, where it overhung the street. Your trimmers made short work of the overhang, even if you did need the long ladder to get to the top of them. Whoever owned this plot really liked their privacy to have planted ten-foot hedges around the entire property line. You weren't sure how the neighbours felt about it, but you're only being paid for the street-side so you couldn't care less.

At least the pavement was clear now, and working inside such a private plot really limits how much randos from the street can catcall you. That's one plus, at least.

The docket specified no weedkillers, so you can't just put on a rubber suit and salt the earth with glyphosate and a cocktail of other chemicals adorned with fun-looking warning triangles. You pulled on your overalls and stocked your toolbelt with an array of trowels, secateurs, shears, forks, strimmer wire, a trusty multitool, and a pair of heavier gloves, just in case. Armed with the tools of your profession, girded in denim dungarees, safety specs, and ear defenders, you started your mechanised assault on the wilderness.

You cut your path into the tangle of weeds and vines. Foliage piled high upon itself on wither side of you as you hacked inwards. You wondered if a machete would be a better tool when you remembered: you actually have one in the van! You'd been given it as a joke when you started, but a quirk of the law let you keep it around so it lived in a cubby in the centre console. You turned to make your way back.

Your path had closed behind you. The piles of plant matter leaning on each other and blocking your way. You shrugged and revved your strimmer. Cutting out should be as easy as cutting in.

In theory.

As soon as the wire hit the brambles, it snarled up. You heard the engine struggle, then stall entirely. Damn. You couldn't pull the machine free. The secateurs came out, and you leant down to cut it out.

Big mistake.

You hadn't noticed the vines that had wrapped themselves around your ankles when you turned, and tripped, falling into a bank of thorny vines. You felt the brambles piercing your gloves and long sleeves. Your hands wouldn't pull free. Your legs were rooted to the ground. You struggled against your bonds, thorns biting deeper with every movement.

You start to panic.

Plants don't act like this.

Plants don't do this.

You felt the briars start to pull at your ankles. Plant's definitely don't do this. You called out as you watched the entrance recede from you as you were hauled over the cutting barbs, deeper into the tangle.

Nobody came.

The vines were pulling you on, you could tell you were going downhill, though the plot should be level. A sinkhole perhaps? It didn't matter, down you went. You craned your neck to look behind you. Trying to get a glimpse of where you were going. That's when you saw it.

A flower. Huge and angry pink. You were going straight towards it.

You felt the petals close around your waist. Your hands were free now, but you couldn't wriggle them between your flesh and the opening of the plant. Each ankle was being pulled a different direction, holding you spreadeagled within the plant. You felt something strange within the flower, like your clothes being moved around on you. Something was... rubbing your legs? For some reason your skin felt wet

Wait

Those overalls were waxed. Waterproof. Nothing should be getting on your skin unless... Oh shit.

Your clothes are being digested. The plant must be carnivorous, which made sense, why else would it have vines that drag you into it? It didn't hurt though, which was strange. Whatever the plant was using to so rapidly eat away at your clothing didn't seem to damage your skin, or even sting when it hit the scratches the vines were still leaving on you.

Something pushed up what was left of your trouser leg, tearing the weakened material away from you, leaving you almost completely bare inside the bell of the plant. Next came your underwear, the thin cotton didn't offer any resistance to the digestive juices daubed on it. Now those same tendrils were painting your bare crotch. You felt your cheeks flush with arousal, this plant felt pretty good. The tendrils kept going, lubricating you and running between the lips of your cunt, as though a lover tenderly licking you up and down.

Every stroke caught your clit, your hole, your ass, first one way, then the other. Your breathing was getting heavier as the rubbing edged you closer and closer. Your hands strayed to your tits, cupping and squeezing as you rolled your head back, delighting in the sensations until you reached your peak, crying out as your release simmered over you.

Another tendril was pressing against you now. This one was moving with more purpose, pressing against your pussy until it entered your well-lubricated hole. You whined as it filled you, anticipating another orgasm as it started to thrust in and out, worming around and stretching you out. The insistent thrusting and continued attentions on your clit drove you to another screaming finish before you felt a hot, thick liquid filling you up. More and more it pumped into you, your womb ached with the amount and you could feel your belly bloating, growing large and round with the sheer volume of the stuff.

As quickly as it began, it pulled away. The vines loosened from your ankles and the flower released you, leaving you to cut away the last tangled pieces of vine from you and start the slow climb out, leaking a thick golden sap from your cunt as you dragged yourself uphill.

It took you over an hour to get back up to your strimmer, which you cut out and dragged behind you as you wobbled back into the van. By some miracle, your toolbelt was still largely unharmed, and everything that was on it before was still there. Along with, tucked into one of the thick, heavy-duty gloves, the end of a vine.

You're no botanist, but you know how to propagate a plant.

[revelboo]

Possible spoilers for earthspark season 3

Ok ok hear me out- yk the episode with the hate virus right after prowl was introduced I think, and how before they all turn into zombies it’s just Bumblebee who’s like really angry for literally no reason? Can I request something spicy with him using reader to try and calm himself down and it doesn’t work? I had an idea idk if it’s a good one tho lmao

Sure! It’s a good one 🤣

🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Aggression

ES Bumblebee x Reader

• What’s wrong with him, everything hazed and tinged with an impatient sort of anger. Every little thing putting him on edge until he’s snapping at everyone, servos trembling. Wanting to hurt someone, anyone. And you’re laying a soft hand on his leg, distracting him from snarling at the Terrans. “Come on,” you say, chin tipped up and you’re the only thing that isn’t setting him off. Familiar and grounding amid the fury roiling through him, heat and need twisting through him as he focuses on you. “Let’s get some air and talk.”

• Have no idea what’s wrong with him, but he looked like he was about to shove Jawbreaker’s head through a wall and you’re not having it. This isn’t like him and his engine is softly revving as he follows you outside into the tree line and away from the house. When you round on him to ask him what his problem is, his big palm smacks against the trunk of a tree. Making you realize he’s mass shifted and he’s caging you with his body.

• “I need,” he growls, struggling for the words as that angry haze digs in deeper. Need you to distract him so he doesn’t lose it. Hurt someone. Wants to hurt someone. Something’s wrong with him and he’s on edge. “Need,” he rasps again, leaning into your space when you back up, coming up against the tree. Those violent impulses keep him from reaching for you. Afraid of hurting you without meaning to even as his spike stirs.

• “Tell me what you need,” you whisper, and his optics flicker, bleeding red for a beat. What was that? He’s growling softly, engine revving nonstop now and the only thing you’re sure of? That he’s not going to hurt you, but he’s definitely a threat to everyone else in this state. And you can’t let him go near them. “You need me?”

• They’re back there. Enemies. Plotting to take you, hurt you. Unless he hurts them first. Turning toward the barn and house with a snarl, he hesitates when you cup his face, pulling him back to you. “Don’t worry about them. I need you.” And your mouth covers his. That chaos in his processor jangling through him. Hating them, but grounded by you.

• And he’s focused completely on you, servos a little rough as he tries to figure out your clothes and just ends up tearing them. Growling softly as his mouth finds your neck, kissing and then biting gently. Big hands gripping your waist and lifting you and his spike brushes against your inner thigh. Slides against you before he’s stretching you and you arch in his grip. Clinging to him as he moves against you and your body softens for him. Can feel the rough bark digging into you as he pins you, hips pumping urgently. Almost too rough as his servos dig in to your hips, probably leaving bruises on you.

• He’s less out of control buried deep inside you, the familiar scent and feel of you keeping him barely in check. Working out the anger with the feel of you wrapped so tight around his spike and your gasping cries. Feels your heels digging into him as he ruts against you, spike stroking deep and he claims your mouth again, muffling your cry when you fist his spike. Managing a handful of deep drives of his hips before he’s shuddering with his overload to fill you. Head brushing yours, that rage is banked for the moment, but it’s still there. And he’s still so hard and aching for you.