#sorry for the over tagging I just want this to reach the right audience | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelyhan · 9 months ago

Text

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is.

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office.

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?”

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money.

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed.

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?”

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?”

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition.

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable.

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain.

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things.

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her.

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year.

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help.

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do.

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage.

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him.

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner.

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have.

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention.

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time.

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people.

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work.

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude.

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored.

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so.

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon.

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent.

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then.

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh.

“I want revenge.”

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines.

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl.

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to.

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing.

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo.

From: Wonwoo Jeon Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife. The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away. Regards, Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success.

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints.

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after.

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.”

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse.

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer.

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen.

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama.

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands.

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again.

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered.

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?”

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.”

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on.

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious.

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk.

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness.

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene.

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?”

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job.

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?”

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow.

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital.

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange.

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane.

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days?

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change.

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers.

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him.

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?”

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further.

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?”

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved.

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable.

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time.

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place.

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?”

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice.

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual.

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact.

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away.

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements.

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars.

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen.

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one.

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in.

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again.

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life.

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer.

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings.

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away.

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion.

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence.

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?”

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car.

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals.

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe.

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples.

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts.

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.”

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.”

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all.

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!”

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in.

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium.

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma.

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido.

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.”

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work.

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards,

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚#wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

1K notes · View notes

water-to-drink · 4 months ago

Note

Ooooo can you write a self aware Neuvillette? Thx!

Self Aware Neuvilette

(Pairing): sagau!Neuvilette x gn!creator!reader

(Tags/Warnings): Foul language, crack fic (reader doesn’t take anything seriously), Neuvilette is down with the shits, might feel rushed, not proofread, (if I missed something lmk)

(Word Count): 500

(A/n): Sorry this took forever, these interactions are based off of stuff I said while playing, if y’all are interested in more in this then let me know

💧Whispers of a famous traveler supposedly blessed by the creator of Teyvat have long since reached the pointed ears of the Iudex of Fontaine

💧Having lived during the time when their Grace still walked Teyvat and having the privilege of saying that he was well acquainted with them, Neuvilette was curious to say the least

💧Having known you personally he can confidently say that depictions of you as a wise and elegant being aren’t exactly all that accurate. Neuvilette remembers times where you would make him double over in laughter, to the point where he could barely breathe

💧Perhaps fate wanted you to reunite when he didn’t expect it, the traveler right next to him waiting for one of Lyney’s performances to begin. His conversation with the traveler went well, Neuvilette thought that the rumors of the traveler being blessed by their Grace were just rumors, he heard the familiar sound of your voice

“Oh my god. He’s so babygirl!”

💧Neuvilette was stunned, “babygirl?” You were “peculiar” when you were still on Teyvat, but he never used that word to refer to him or anyone

“Come home to me hydro daddy, I’ll treat you right.”

💧He could see the grimaces of both the traveler and Paimon’s faces, it’s apparent that they aren’t fans of your behavior

💧When the performance went awry and a trial had to be held your comments didn’t stop, but the most memorable was the trial of the Harbinger Childe. Once you walked in you made your opinion on the situation heard

“Childe, what the fuck?! I left you alone for 5 minutes and you get arrested?!”

💧The trial went ahead, but with your input

“I ain’t no Saul Goodman, but I will get you off… Not sexually! I mean you’ll go free!”

💧It was hard for Neuvilette to keep a straight face. Your constant commentary catching him off guard and the shocked reactions of the audience makes it difficult to remain stoic

💧You made good points towards the Harbinger’s case and when it was time to bring the gavel down for the verdict, it came back guilty. After dealing with Tartaglia who made a ruckus in his court

“And getting your ass beat by the judge, embarrassing.”

💧Stay composed. Stay composed, Neuvilette. He told himself

💧The next time he saw the Traveler he need a favor from them. To go the the fortress of Meropide to investigate the disappearance of Tartaglia

“Oh hold on!”

💧You said before you went quiet. Suddenly rock music fills his ears and he hears you singing along to the lyrics

“Breaking the law! Breaking the law!”

💧While the traveler and their floating companion shook their heads in disbelief, a slight smile made its way on the dragon’s face. If he wasn’t stuck in his current position he would be doubled over laughing

💧Oh how much he misses you and your antics

#genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin x female reader #genshin x f!reader #genshin x m!reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #neuvilette x male reader #neuvilette x gn reader #neuvilette x female reader #neuvilette x reader #sagau neuvilette #genshin headcanons

418 notes · View notes

stall1iion · 4 months ago

Text

champion's love - eight

Content Warning: the following chapter is intended for mature audiences only, contains strong language and profanity that may not be suited for children and sensitive adults. I will mark when the smut starts and ends for those who wish not to read that part. Thank you.

tags: smut, needy max, equally needy reader, teasing/banter

Minors dni!! Warnings below!!

warnings: cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk

liked by maxverstappen1, bsf1, bsf2, victoriassecret and many others

y/nofficial thank you Victoria Secret for allowing me to showcase your newest summer bikini! Link in my link tree, get 30% off using my code!

tagged: victoriassecret

view all comments

username9 HELLO?? THE BODY IS T 😫😍

username2 😫can max fight??

username34 the way my jaw just dropped

username123 why did she think anyone would want to see her skinny ass? It’s barely giving curvy

⤷username55 first of all, she’s an athlete, of course she’s going to be skinny and lean, second that gives you no right to talk about her body like that, it’s giving jealous

ynsteponme: y/n could run me over, beat me with a bat, set me on fire, please just do anything to me i really don’t care

⤷username99 literally so down bad for her

landonorris you look gorgeous.

⤷y/nofficial i appreciate this, but i post for the bad bitches only.

⤷landonorris i am the bad bitch you speak of.

⤷y/nofficial my bad gang 💪

username1 just looked at myself and sighed

username78 max watch out bc you and i are not friends

⤷username45 so we all in love with y/n right?

⤷username8 of course we are!

⤷username7 i mean LOOK at her 😻max can’t handle all that fr

maxverstappen1 GOD DAMN

⤷bsf2 HELLO??

⤷bsf1 my brother in christ…😀

⤷OscarPiastri oh he’s down bad…

⤷danielricciardo oh max…

⤷georgerussell63 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

⤷charlesleclerc why have you never publicly declared your love for me?

⤷y/nofficial charles your not beating the lestappen accusations, my dear

username59 BRO MAX’S COMMENT?? 😭

lilymhe it should be illegal to look this good 💗

⤷y/nofficial says you 😘🤤

⤷lilymhe don’t make me wife you up 🤭

⤷y/nofficial when’s our wedding baby?? 🤭

⤷alexalbon I will throw you in the ocean 😻

→ smut starts here

Twenty minutes later you were both amused and in disbelief when you heard the front door to Max's house open. Sitting up and turning to look at the door, you spoke before you even saw him with a laugh. “Stop, what are you doing here?”

Max let out a chuckle, getting closer to you with a grin on his lips and a fervent look in his eyes. Reaching you, he placed his hands on either side of the couch, caging you in as he looked down into your eyes. “I said I’d come and show you who bro was, didn’t I?”

“I was just joking around though” you said with a chuckle, not moving the rest of your body now as the living room felt heavy and intense.

“And I said sorry wasn’t going to save you” his face was so close to yours, literally hovering above you. “Plus, you didn’t seem against it earlier”

“Oh so you did read my message?” you raised an eyebrow at him, your eyes watching as he licked his lips at the question before looking down at your body - his shirt, one of the few that didn’t brand red bull on it at least, draped over your body for the most part. Fulfilling the objective of being oversized but tight enough that he could see the faint outline of your boobs, more than enough for his hungry eyes.

Max leaned back, opening his skirt up and exposing himself to you more, a silent confirmation that he was allowed to do what he said he would - and one he wasn’t fully sure you’d give him. He knew you were both being careless and playful, but this would be their first time together, and he didn’t want it to be the result of him pressuring you. He was fine with stopping here and cuddling if you wanted, he would deal with his own desire and they could put on a movie.

You knew he was giving you that option, that cop-out if you felt like it; but surprisingly…this process felt natural to her. No nerves, no fear, just pure attraction and desire. So after staring at his body for a while, you reached your hand out and placed your palm on his chest first, noticing how his heart pulsed against her hand rapidly with the concealed strength he had been using to control himself. Looking up at him, your hand slid up his shoulder and down his arm before wrapping around his wrist.

Slowly you guided his hand to grab your boob through the shirt. It might’ve seemed weird from anyone on the outside, but between the two of you, alone with your desires, he knew that this was you giving him that confirmation and his hand slowly grabbed at your boobs, fondling them through the shirt for a few before, albeit hesitantly, reaching under his - your shirt and feeling your bare skin.

A small shiver went up your spine at the difference in temperature, his hands just a bit colder but he seemed to be enthralled with your boobs now, a groan leaving him causing you to giggle. “What’s so funny?” he asked with a smile as he glanced up at you.

“You seem so engrossed in my boobs” you said with a smile and a chuckle and he chuckled and pulled his hands away, sliding himself in between your legs with a smile

“Their nice, saw a glimpse of them in that post of yours” he said and you chuckled, “God you're totally a tits man”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy” he said in retort and you laughed

“Are you daring me?” you asked as you looked at him before reaching and pulling your shirt up, Max finally able to see your boobs in all it’s glory and he folded like the man he is, letting out a deep groan as he looked and she laughed. “Mystery Solved!” you said, pulling the shirt back down with a shit eating grin as you looked at him and watched him run a hand through his hair.

“Don’t do this to me” he said, pushing himself against you so that you could feel his erection against your clothed pussy. “I’m not doing anything” you said with a giggle and almost in defeat, he leaned his head on your shoulder. Part of you thought he was going to beg and sat up a little straighter to pull him closer. Yet, like always, Max was unpredictable and said something she didn’t expect.

“You want this as much as I do” his head raising again and staring right into your eyes - that matched with one of his hands now being placed on your thigh, thumb caressing it softly, contradicting the needy pressure he was applying with it. It was no surprise when your body started vibrating with sensations that spread across your skin and honed into a throb, and you both crumbled at the same time.

Max lost his control first though, bringing his lips to yours, kissing you roughly like he planned on consuming you, as if he was containing an urge for too long and could do nothing but let it explode out. Your body melted as you reciprocated his kiss, his tongue grazing your lips before biting you, a whimper escaping your lips as he did so.

“You like that?” he mumbled, his hips grinding against you already, anticipating traveling throughout his body. You could only nod in affirmation as he leaned back to look at you before leaning you down onto your back, his hand sliding up your leg in the process as if in preparation.

He let his hand explore your body, moving upwards and upwards before reaching your underwear. Through it, he could feel the damp spot already seeping through, exposing how wet you were, and he let his fingers softly caress your clit with a triumphant smile. “Mystery solved” he said, throwing back your own words at you and you rolled your eyes, your back arching just a little bit. “Screw you” you managed to say between breaths as he sped up his movements.

“Oh trust me, I plan to” he replied, and the way he managed to be so cocky just intensified your need for him. As if guessing this just from your blissed expression, he pulled his hand away, accompanied by your whines as you looked to see what he was doing. His hands moving up and grabbing the band on your underwear before pulling them down, you lifting your hips to help as he slipped them off your feet and then reached for your shirt, leaving you fully naked on the couch.

“Fuck” he cursed, his cock throbing in his pants. Desperate, he almost gave up on his attempts to control himself. However, he did not want to stop teasing you, looking at your flushed cheeks and open mouth, it was worth the self control he had to possess. Looking down at your body, his eyes zeroed in on one thing he didn’t expect, a tattoo. It was on her v line, properly hidden by underwear and most outfits.

“When did you get this?” he murmured, lowering his face down as his lips hovered over it, his breath warm against your skin.

“Um…2018…after the olympics” you answered, your voice sounding out of breath as you pushed up on your elbows to watch. His lips slowly leaning down to kiss the spot. “It’s pretty” he said as he looked up at you, and god if only he knew how pretty he looked like that, his teeth grazing against it teasingly causing your breath to hitch. He chuckled before his arms linked under your legs and pulled you up to his face, glancing up at you before diving in like a starved man.

The way Max ate pussy was almost disgusting, like he was trying to suck your soul out of your body. Your hands dropped to his hair, sliding through the strands and bucking your hips up to meet his tongue. He looked ridiculously good while lapping at your pussy or sucking your clit in his mouth, his eyes shining, his hair being pushed back and the way his shoulders were wider than your hips, giving a good place to rest your legs on. You were so distracted by his looks that you only realized he had slipped a finger inside you when it curled into your cervix and you let out a loud moan.

“Can I put a second?” he mumbled against your skin, kissing your thigh as he looked up at you and you nodded, encouraging your boyfriend’s movements and easily enough, he pushed a second finger inside. His fingers curled even better as his mouth worked exclusively on your clit, his left arm reaching to press down on your hips to keep you still, making you feel his movements even more intensely. You threw your head back as you arched off the couch, your fingers keeping a merciless grip on his strands, hard enough that you might have been worried about pulling some out as he worked you up. He could feel when your legs started tensing around his neck and how your walls tightened around his fingers, both signs that you were close to release so he sped his movements. It was a particular deep stroke of his fingers to your insides that had you coming for him, your legs shook around him as you experienced an unexplainable strong orgasm. Max continued to eat you through your orgasm and it was only when he pulled away did you notice his face was covered in a transparent liquid, realizing you had squirted on him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you said, covering your face to stop the embarrassment you felt as Max sat up

“Sorry for what, baby?” he asked, kissing up your body before pushing his shirt off his shoulders, “didn’t know you could do that, huh?” he whispered into your neck and you shook your head.

“No” you said, burying your face into his neck, “it was embarrassing”

“That’s okay baby, you don’t have to apologize for that. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, you look so pretty when you cum, darling” he said and you chuckled before letting out a sigh

“Still embarrassing” you said and he chuckled before leaning back and kissing your forehead.

“Whatever you say, do you still wanna continue? Or are you all good here?” he asked and you shook your head

“No- no, i can keep going” you said and he looked to make sure you were sure before he nodded

“Alright, if you say so baby” he said with a nod before unbuckling and taking off his pants. Your eyes watched religiously as you watched him kick them somewhere on the floor before grabbing his boxers, and sliding them down. You watched as it bounced back up and rested against his stomach with a small gasp before she looked up at him. “You can touch baby, only fair” he joked and you reached down, your fingers wrapping against the base before giving it a nice pump which caused him to hiss.

“Fuck” he cursed, and you stopped for maybe a split moment before he interrupted you. “No, no- keep going…it’s just, it’s been a while” he said and you nodded before you continued, jerking him off for a few moments before he stopped you, way too close and he wanted to wait. You were a little sad you weren’t able to taste him but you figured you could do it another time. He reached for his pants again, pulling out a condom from his pocket and rolling it on before he slid back in between your legs.

“You ready?” he asked and you nodded. He brought his tip to your wet pussy, sliding so well that he couldn’t help but moan. Your gasp of pleasure made it all worth it, and your cry of frustration as he pulled himself out drove him absolutely insane. The way you craved him made him dizzy, intoxicated with your drunkenness of him, having you all for himself the way you were in that moment being almost a dream. He pushed back in, his large cock filling you and the small pain from stretching was overtaken by pleasure as you felt his hips grind against yours. The rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like his tongue, it was slow. He was slow, like he was savoring every moment of this.

You clenched, you squealed, begged, anything flowed out your mouth and none of it was coherent, but Max liked that. In fact, it only quickened his pace as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

"you're taking me so well" his voice is raspy, husk and faint. “Such a good girl…”

A moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, every thrust from him sending butterflies into your stomach until one in particular hit your cervix and you let out a cry as you came on his cock.

It takes a few more thrusts from him before he’s spilling into the condom with a low groan, his face leaning into your neck as he trembled a bit. The two of you panting and getting your breathing under control as you came down from your highs. He slips out after a few minutes, tying the condom before getting up to throw it away, and coming back with a warm wash cloth, sitting next to a relatively fucked out you and after wiping your leg to warn you, starts to clean you up, even if it’s your own fluids.

→ smut ends here

liked by maxverstappen1, bsf1, bsf2 and many others

y/n.jpg Been at home all day, Jimmy is especially obsessed with me as you can see (shoutout to waking up with sassy behind my knees)

view all comments

username7 stop 💀is she in the bath and jimmy and sassy are staring at her??

bsf2 awww look at Jimmy on your chest 🥹

maxverstappen1 tell jimmy to get out of my spot

⤷username6 hello?? 💀is he talking about your chest

⤷bsf1 ignore him, he’s different without his meds

username23 is it just me or is max and y/n like suddenly really affectionate? 🤔like no hate, I love it, it’s just a crazy shift

⤷username2 nah you're so right moot, especially max 💀were they released from pr jail or something??

⤷username4 well y/n sure as hell wasn’t 😂she’s always been unhinged, it might just be her influencing max

lilymhe never wanted to be a cat so badly

⤷y/n.jpg don’t worry baby, I got you 💋

⤷alexalbon I give up

⤷maxverstappen1 a wise choice truly

charlesleclerc how come sassy is nice to you??

⤷y/n.jpg girls just recognize girls

⤷bsf1 lies, she’s just freakishly good with animals

OscarPiastri can I pet them?

⤷y/n.jpg osc! of course you can, just tell me what day you plan to swing by bc I wanna make snickerdoodles

⤷logansargeant I heard snickerdoodles

⤷y/n.jpg 💀yes logan, you can come too i guess

→ we have a contact name change for max, goodbye max, hello maxie

→ Jimmy and Sally love their new mommy, especially Jimmy

Author’s Note!!

Hey Guys, sorry about the wait for this chapter, I lowkey didn’t know how I was going to do this and switched the format at least 7 times. I also broke my wrist on my dominant hand 🙂(didn’t know the ao3 curse applied to tumblr too) thankfully I can type with both hands but finishing out my first smut chapter with one hand was difficult. Speaking of smut, this was my first hand at writing this stuff so 🥹hopefully it’s good, I did not reread it bc one hand but also bc I’m indecisive and will change it, anyways hope you enjoy this chapter!!

taglist: @boiohboii @ale-522 @ietss @theseerbetweenus @jaxx-7 @sainzluvrr @the-untamed-soul @ashy-kit @hc-dutch @nichmeddar @delululeclerc @sweate-r-weathe-r @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @luvsforme @samantha-chicago @theblueblub @woozarts

༉‧₊˚ CHAMPIONS LOVE ༉‧₊˚

⤷ Following the messy breakup between Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet, Max’s manager comes up with a solution to divert the attention – a fake relationship. His new girlfriend? Two time olympic gold medalist figure skater, y/n for the USA team. Easy? Well…

#f1 smau #champions love ♡#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #formula one x black reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #formula one smut #mv1 #mv33

473 notes · View notes

daengtokki · 3 months ago

Text

part three // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.4k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, murder, blood, very brief m/m, bodily penance/self-harm, medication, sex, more blood

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

thank you again to @thackery-blinks, and also this song

˗ˋˏ♡ please reblog/tag if you enjoy, and help my work reach a wider audience. thank you friends!

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

After the second cup of coffee, you start to pay more attention to the time. It feels like an hour has passed, at least, but you can’t be sure, because you have no idea what time it was when the two of you woke up this morning. It’s even colder now, and the draft continues to blow in—that’s how you know he’s still out there. Doing what, though? Being alone, yes…meditating? Punishing himself?

You fill a third cup of coffee and decide to let fifteen more minutes pass before checking on him. You could just get up and go now, but it doesn't feel like your place to question his actions. This is really none of your business. Should you make it your business?

His back is straight, his head is down…you can see the steady puffs of condensation leave his nose. The blanket you pulled from the couch is rolled up under your arm when you push the curtain aside and walk out onto the balcony. It’s even colder than you imagined, now that the walls of his bedroom are gone.

How could he have been out here for so long? Seungmin isn’t made of much; he’s thin. Tall and broad, yes, but thin. And though his body has been warm and comfortable when you’ve been close to him, he can’t possibly keep that warmth in him right now. He doesn’t seem to hear you approach, or kneel at his side. You unfold the flannel blanket, the same one he gave you before, and carefully wrap it around his shoulders, up to his neck. Now he moves a little, and when you rub your hand over his back and shoulders, he opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Why are you out here?”

“Why are you?”

“Come back inside, please”

“Are you sure?” He grabs the blanket and pulls it around him.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure”

He nods, but he doesn’t move yet. Maybe he needs to find some energy first—there’s no way he has any left now. His legs look lifeless and pale, but they still work when he gets his feet flat on the ground. You follow him as he rises, hold his arm, and you’re surprised that he lets you guide him back inside.

He starts toward the door.

“No, you should get back into bed”

“I need some coffee.” His voice is so small, and weak.

“I’ll bring you some”

Seungmin stops, and stands there for a few seconds.

“Please”

When you return, he’s halfway under his covers with the blanket still wrapped around him.

“If you still want to be alone, I won’t stay in here”

“You can stay”

“Okay…” you climb onto the bed, find a spot in the middle, close to him, but not too close, and watch him as he quietly shivers. His cheeks and ears are red and chapped from the wind, and his usually pouty pink lips are pale and barely there against his colorless face. “Get all the way under the covers.” You reach a hand out to touch his neck, and he jumps.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you before”

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me”

“I didn’t?” He reaches out and lifts your shirt, and the marks look even more apparent. A few bruises are already starting to bloom where his fingers pressed. “I did.”

“Lie down, you’re still shivering.” His hand is like ice when you grab it, but he shakes free and sets it flat across the bruises. It feels so good, but you try not to make your content sigh too obvious. “Okay, okay…lie down.”

Seungmin listens this time, and you decide to take a chance and move closer. You still don’t know why he was out there, or why he was torturing himself, but maybe he’ll allow you to wrap an arm around him and pull him even closer. His body is so cold, you’re not sure you have enough heat in you to help, but you’re going to try. You’re not sure why, but you know he would do the same for you.

/ / /

Wrapped up…that’s really the only way to describe him this time. Seungmin’s long limbs are all over you, holding tightly. The look on his sleeping face, at least what you can see squeezed against him, is the most content you’ve ever seen it. He’s sleeping like a puppy curled up in a heated blanket. And that’s exactly how you feel—warm, damp with sweat. Too warm. Seungmin’s heat returned, and then some. His cheek feels like a radiator when you touch it.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbles, moves around a little, then settles again. “Why am I so tired?”

“Because you sat outside for hours and it’s -2 degrees”

His eyes pop open like he’s wondering why someone is in his bed, answering him. He lets go, pushes himself back, and examines you.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Well, maybe he’s not all there yet. It doesn’t matter. Something about being in bed with him like this again blurs everything. You’re comfortable and warm here, and this is all that’s mattered. You should probably check your messages, your email, your bank account…something—your family might actually be worried enough to send money. It doesn’t matter, though. You don’t plan on going anywhere right now.

“I need to shower, and go out…what time is it?”

“Go out? Why do you have to go out?”

“I have to find…” Seungmin stops and looks at you again. “Someone.”

“Already?”

“Yes”

When did he do this last? Did he do it recently? The last time you asked him, it was in the park, and he told you he killed someone the day you met. After you met, because he didn’t kill you. You can’t even remember how long ago that was, so you close your eyes and think…two weeks, and—

“It’s been two days,” he says.

Oh, it was recent. You find yourself looking around the room as if you missed some clue about his recent activities. Is that why the bedding is all new? Did he do it right here on this bed? “Two days?”

He rises slowly. The arm that’s still draped over your hip slides away, and he stumbles a little as he gets to his feet. “Yeah, on Friday. After I thought you left.” And he’s gone without another word.

You hear him in the shower—he’s in there for a very long time, and when he finally comes out, a cloud of steam follows him. He’s still dripping wet, and his hair is slicked back so tight, he almost looks like a different person. And he’s completely naked. No towel wrapped around his waist, no shorts, just wet skin glowing in the sunlight. Seungmin makes himself more coffee, an iced one this time, and doesn’t say a word as he sips and looks absently at his phone.

He takes his coffee to the bedroom, and he comes back out a few minutes later, partially dressed. All you can do is watch, nervously, as he approaches where you sit at the corner of the couch. Why are you so nervous? Seungmin isn’t even looking at you— he’s staring at the floor, and then at whatever small thing he has in his hand. He holds it out and waits for you to take it before speaking.

“Get whatever you need, or whatever you want…both,” he says softly—practically whispers it. “Max it out, I don’t care.”

If you didn’t assume he planned on doing this since last night, you’d think it was his indirect way of apologizing. Seungmin clearly has money to throw at things to make them go away, or to bring them closer to him. You’re not sure which of those he wants from you right now.

This was your first time shopping in Seoul, and it was overwhelming being on your own in the crowds, but you have to admit it had its moments of calm, and even a few moments of joy—particularly when you found a dress very similar to one that you lost, and especially when you stumbled upon something that reminded you of Seungmin. It seemed silly to get, but it seemed still to pass up, too, and you haven’t decided yet if you’ll give it to him. But you have it just in case. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood after a few more hours of solitude. Maybe he won’t be as bad as you think he’ll be at accepting gifts.

The apartment is dark, and very quiet when you return. Seungmin gave you a copy of both keys, and the code to the final lock—being trusted with that did feel good, and it made your morning a little better after his standoffish attitude. It does make it feel like last night's comments probably weren’t the truth, but you still have to wonder about everything else. You set the bags down and look around; the kitchen light is on, and you can see some soft light coming from the crack beneath his bedroom door. There is sound, but it’s very quiet and you can’t catch any type of conversation.

The closer you get, the more confusing it becomes, until it finally hits you—you think you know what you’re hearing, and it throws your heart into your throat, and you feel a little sick. Seungmin is moaning, over and over, but it’s not quite how he sounds when he’s with you. It’s a steady rhythm, and then he stops…starts again, stops. It almost sounds forced, but he’s the only sound you can hear. Maybe he’s getting himself off; maybe last night wasn’t enough. You don’t want to interrupt him if that is what’s going on, but when you hear another voice, you really start to feel sick.

“Is that good?” the voice says. It sounds masculine, but still, it’s hard to tell for sure. You can’t understand it, anyway. You don’t hear Seungmin’s response, but the other person laughs, and you feel your entire body start to heat up. It could be from anger, or embarrassment, or sadness...all of the above. You feel pretty stupid standing there, but it’s not like Seungmin is your boyfriend. He’s not yours, and you guess you’re not his, either. No, he just took in a stray and gave it unlimited money to shop, absolutely no big deal. Nothing serious.

“Yeah, you are…” Still the nameless, faceless voice. Definitely masculine. “Come back, don’t be a tease.”

You take a few steps back. The language barrier means you can’t say for sure what’s happening behind that door, but it feels obvious. The deep, sensual whispers and the moans can only equal one thing.

“Yeah, keep going”

It’s Seungmin’s voice that time. And then everything goes quiet. A few seconds later, he comes, loudly. And then it’s quiet again.

You take a few more steps back until you hit the side of the kitchen counter, and it’s then that you hear a loud thud. Very loud, like something heaving hitting the ground.

“Fuck…what are you doing?” This time, the voice sounds…angry? No, surprised, confused. It’s hard to tell even as you listen as carefully as possible. Your head is swimming with every strange thought, though. “No…stop, please.”

“What the fuck?” You say out loud to nobody. Your legs are trembling. Another loud thud makes you jump, and then you hear Seungmin. It almost doesn’t sound like him, but you know it’s him. It’s big, and deep, and unlike any version of him you’ve heard…

“Fucking…hold still. Fuck, give me a break.”

The door shakes, the doorknob turns, and as soon as it swings open, all you see is the stranger's terrified face. He’s half-dressed, jeans still mostly zipped, but he slips a little as he makes a run for the door. Seungmin is right behind him, and you just barely see the shine of his knife as he runs by.

Your legs tremble more, and you don’t know how you’re still standing. The feeling of needing to vomit now hits, but nothing happens when you lean forward—just a dry heave, and then your throat tightens right back up. He doesn’t see you…he has one thing in his sights, and it’s almost at the door you’re pretty sure you left unlocked.

The man stumbles again, and Seungmin grabs him by the back of the neck as he falls forward onto the carpet. But he screams, and it’s so loud. You see the glint again as he pulls back and plunges it into the side of his neck. The sound…you think you actually hear the metal as it slides through his skin and tendons and cartilage. Did you really hear it all the way over here? You did hear Seungmin’s angry growl, and you can still hear his heavy, uneven pulls of breath. Finally, you fall to your knees and take one deep breath. The light-headedness outweighs the feeling of vomiting, but you manage to keep it together.

“Son of a bitch,” he says, in English this time, and you definitely hear the blade being pulled out and thrown to the side. It bounces and makes a mess everywhere it hits, and it lands right next to one of the bags you brought home.

Seungmin sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair, “another fucking mess.” He says it in a sing-songy voice as he turns his head and looks for his knife.

You can see his face now, and it changes immediately when he notices the bags. His eyes grow, and his tongue pokes out a little between his lips. First he looks at his work again, and the mess of blood slowly pouring onto the carpet. Then he looks at the door, which you know he can see is unlocked. If the stranger would have beat him to it…well, you’d rather not think about that. Finally, he turns his head. His eyes seem to soften as they land on you, and something about his face looks guilty.

“Hey,” he says, and very carefully stands up. Seungmin towers over the body, examines it again, and then adjusts his shorts. It’s the only thing he’s wearing, except for two silver necklaces, and a little bit of blood on his stabbing hand. “Hey…I thought you’d be out longer,” he quickly closes the space between you and kneels a few feet away. "Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

You stay in your spot and watch him as he heads for the sink to wash his hands…once, and then a second time.

“You okay?” He kneels again, much closer this time, and places his hand on your knee. “Hm?” Seungmin keeps his face relaxed, and his eyes heavy, as if he’s trying his best not to make this seem as serious as it really is. To him, it is nothing, you think, and he may be lacking a bit in empathy, but he’s smart enough to know that what you just witnessed was a lot. “Do you wanna stand with me?”

No, you don’t, but you nod anyway and give him your hands.

He stares at you for a long time, silent, wondering what to say next. “Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower? I’ll set some clothes in there for you.”

“Why?”

“Because when you come out, you’ll feel a little better, and everything will be back to normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, mostly. Please, just give me…30 minutes.”

“How are you going to fix this in a half an hour?”

That’s a very good question. Seungmin can clean up in that span of time, but he certainly can’t dispose of this body, as well. Luckily, he usually has a backup plan floating around in his head. “You’ll have to believe me.” He relaxes the vice grip he has on your wrists and slides his hands up your arms. “Try to.”

/ / /

He digs out the hard shell suitcase from the living room closet, and thanks himself for choosing a smaller kill this time. This is not how he likes doing things, and the knife is also not his favorite, but what he really doesn’t like is having an audience. This is a first. At least he didn’t know until after the fact.

As soon as the body, his shoes, his shirt, and whatever else he took off, is out of his sight, he focuses on the carpet. He rolls the rug up neatly, cuts it off as cleanly as possible, and wraps it as tightly as he can in several layers of garbage bags. Luckily, nothing made it down to the hardwood floor. Only a few little spots from the knife need to be cleaned. And the knife, of course. The biggest problem now is how he’s getting this down 26 floors to the basement, two separate times before he has a chance to get to the bedroom.

Seungmin tries his best, and he underestimates how good he really is. He locks everything away in his basement storage, for now, and gets back to the apartment with time to spare. Maybe you’ll give him a few extra minutes. Or maybe you’ll stay in there until he comes to get you.

The bedroom isn’t bad, but you know what was going on in here. He pulls off the bedspread and replaces it with a heavy blanket, just big enough to cover the king-size bed. The clothes on the floor get tossed in the hamper. Everything is thrown back in his drawer, neatly, or in the trash. He’s never worked so fast, because he’s never had to, and he really hopes he never has to speed run this again.

Last, he looks down at himself. He’s sweating, and out of breath, but luckily, he can’t find a splatter of blood on him. He rips off the tshirt and sweatpants, and replaces them with fresh ones.

You still haven’t made a sound, thirty-seven minutes later, so Seungmin knocks… “Hey, do you need anything?”

“Can I come out?”

He smiles at your small, timid voice. “Yes, you can come out.”

Seungmin looks around with you, a little paranoid he forgot something in his rush, but everything looks normal. Everything except the missing piece of carpet. He follows as you walk over to inspect the area, and when you seem satisfied, he follows into the bedroom.

“Where is it, the body?” You look around carefully. This is the first time you really explore his bedroom, and Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind when you end up at one of his bookshelves.

“Not here, not in the apartment.” He watches your hand reach for the music box, but you don’t open it. Your finger slides over the lid, and then you move on to the withering vase of flowers.

“You need some fresh heliotrope. We can change the water, though…they might perk up for another day.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Seungmin’s heart starts to race, and he doesn’t know why. It picks up even more when you return to the music box, gently pop the latch, and open it. He holds his breath, but luckily, he didn’t wind it. It’s quiet.

“Oh, this…” a dainty silver chain is pinched between your fingers, but you examine it closely before you continue, “no, it’s almost the same.” You hold it up so the St. Michael medallion hangs and sways like a pendulum. “Is this yours?”

“It belonged to my mother. So did the music box.” Seungmin reaches out and grabs the charm between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I guess it’s mine.” How did we get from there, to here? he thinks to himself. You don’t ask him anything else—you carefully set the necklace back inside, close it, and pick up the vase of flowers.

“Where did you get these? Is there a greenhouse nearby?

It takes so much of his energy not to tell you exact truths right now, and he doesn’t know why. Seungmin can’t help but want you to ask him what happened; what did you walk into? Why aren’t you more shaken by this? You did have time to think in the shower, but thinking is one thing, and demanding more information is another. He was actually ready to explain himself. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Can we go get more?” Your voice fades as you head for the kitchen, to the sink, where you carefully replace the water in the vase.

No, Seungmin doesn’t think he can handle that right now. He’s never quite sure when he can, and he usually has to force himself. That might be the case soon. He does need to replace these.

“You gonna dry these, too?”

“…are you okay?”

He assumes by the long silence and the way you’re staring at the flowers…probably not. It was a good act, but you still don’t say anything when you walk back to the bedroom and set the vase back in its spot.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Again, you leave the room. Seungmin is beginning to dislike not getting a proper response from you. “Dammit…will you please just answer me?”

You’ve been trying to think of a way to answer him—you really have. This entire day, aside from your alone time shopping, has been strange, and so uncomfortable. He can’t possibly expect you to just be okay, though…Seungmin isn’t stupid. He just wants something, anything besides you changing the subject again. But how are you supposed to tell him the kill wasn’t the worst part? Or that you weren’t even completely sure he was telling you the truth about his killing? You actually thought for a moment that he made the whole thing up, or exaggerated. You don’t have to wonder about that anymore. He did it, and it wasn’t his first time. “I’m okay, it was just,” you think, stall for another few seconds, “hearing you in there with someone else caught me off-guard.”

“Oh, that’s all? I thought I scared you...set off another panic attack, maybe.” The look you give him makes him revisit his response. “It was just a blowjob, I barely touched him, but that will happen again.”

“I know”

“You're jealous?” Seungmin smirks and takes a step toward you. “Is that it?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” you lie. What a stupid lie. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Nobody else lives in my house, or spends my money.” Another step. “Right?”

“Yes”

Close enough to kiss, but no. He reaches out, touches your neck, and leans forward as he does, “nobody else sleeps in my bed.” You can see yourself in his unblinking eyes, until he’s even closer. His lips ghost over your forehead, moving slowly over your temple, and to the spot just above your ear. He kisses once. “Just you.”

A moment of courage comes over you—he’s so close, and he smells so good, and you need to touch him. His hips feel good in your hands, and when he makes a sound, you move them slowly up his sides. You haven’t forgotten, he’s sensitive here.

Seungmin moves down until his breath tickles your ear, “but nobody touches you,” he kisses again, “or I’ll kill them.”

“I don’t want anyone else”

“Good. Now…are you gonna show me what you bought?”

/ / /

“I can try some, right?” He leans back on the couch, yawns, and stretches. Everything suddenly feels very normal. He feels like himself right now, and you suspect it’s his post-kill high.

The way his eyes follow you all over the room is suffocating, though. For some reason, it's making you feel shy, and way too seen. You can’t figure out what it is he sees in you, and what wants from you, and from all of this. What are you giving that somebody else couldn’t? If you knew what he looked for in his victims, maybe it’d be easier to figure out, but you don’t know. You don’t know why he talked to you that morning.

“Yeah, you bought it”

One of the things you bought, something you definitely didn’t need, was 70,000 won almond blossom tea. You only wandered into the shop to escape the crowd, but the owner let you try a sample, and it was impossible to pass up after tasting it. The scent, and the flavor took you back to the warmth of him wrapped around you this morning. It felt good.

Seungmin sneaks up behind you, and when his hand squeezes your waist, the hot water almost ends up on the counter. “It’s pretty…it smells nice,” he’s so close, you can almost feel his lips on you. “How long?”

“Two minutes.” You didn’t think brewing tea would make him so touchy and sweet, but you’ve started expecting pretty much anything from him. “Maybe a little less.”

“Show me something you bought”

“Pick something”

He slides away and heads for the three large bags at the end of the couch, and then he peeks in each one. “Okay, let’s try this one.” He reaches in and pulls out a smaller bag from inside the large one.

“Oh, maybe not that one…”

“Why not?”

“Pick something else”

“Okay, I’ll try again.” He reaches into another large bag, and again, pulls out a small one. “This one, you can’t say no.”

You nod and hand him his tea, “I won’t say no,” and take a sip. He does, too, and you watch him. “Do you like it?”

Before he answers, he takes one more slow sip, and a smile appears. His cheeks round out, and you see the shine of his teeth behind his lips. “I do…it’s nice and sweet.”

“Good,” you peek in the small bag and pull out a flat white box.

Seungmin watches the little golden movements as he swirls his cup, closes his eyes, and drinks again. Memories pop up in his mind: the kitchen, and the sun coming in through the window above the sink. His favorite chair—it faced the stove where he watched her cook every morning, every afternoon. Bundles of dried flowers hanging by the doorway, and the sweet smell of yakgwa if he behaved all week. Sometimes even if he didn’t.

He doesn’t realize how quickly he drains his cup, and he hopes you’ll make him another one.

“Hey…you there?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m here…sorry”

“I wasn’t sure about getting them, or about getting anything for you. So I hope it’s okay.”

“You bought something for me?" His eyes grow as he looks at the box, "this was supposed to be your shopping trip.”

Still soft, and you hope with everything you have that he stays like this for a little longer. Tonight, in the morning, and maybe through tomorrow. You think it, scream it in your head. Maybe he’ll pick up on it just enough. Maybe it’s the tea. You should make him more.

“I know, but…”

“Let me see," he moves the tissue paper out of the way and looks, touches the soft fabric first, and then carefully picks it up.

“It’s corny, I’m sorry”

“Corny? No, they're beautiful.” He reaches in and picks up the second silky handkerchief, and runs his thumb over the embroidered purple flowers, every petal, “and these won't die." Seungmin keeps one and hands the other back to you. You don't know, of course, but this is the first gift he's been given in years.

“Oh, they came as a pair…you don’t want both?”

“No, you keep one. It doesn’t look like you bought much for yourself.”

He’s right, you didn’t get as much as you should have, and that explains why you got back early and interrupted his work. You should have made a list.

“We can go again tomorrow. Maybe you just need company.”

“Company? You’re gonna go shopping with me?”

“Yes, we can do that. We can get lunch somewhere nice, and maybe we can go get more flowers...what? Is that okay?”

Whatever confused look you’re giving him, he caught it. This is the Seungmin from last night, just happier, and more euphoric. “Yeah, we should do that. How about we have more tea, and then we get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“It has, but I need to bleach my hair”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, I almost forgot. There were a lot of people around earlier, when I…you know, picked him.”

“I can help if you’d like. And make you some more tea.”

/ / /

The orangey-blonde head of hair sticking out from the covers confuses you in your half-sleep. It’s early, and you set an alarm, but you can’t remember why. Last night hasn’t come back to you quite yet. The puppy plush is in the gap between you, and you really don’t remember putting him there last night. But he’s there, sitting up, almost like he just walked up and took a seat. He’s still a mystery, just like his owner.

The bleach job didn’t work as well as he’d hoped last night, because he forgot he just tried to darken it a few days before. It’s still soft and pretty, and even in his sleep, his bangs frame his face perfectly. Lucky for him, he’s handsome enough to pull anything off.

Seungmin squirms, rolls onto his other side, and settles again. Now, looking at his face, you remember why you set that alarm. How could you forget? You have the day planned out with him, and you’re counting on a smile when he finally wakes up. Something put him in a better mood, a mood good enough for a date, and you suspect it was two kills in three days. He moves again, but you don’t want to wake him yet. He looks happy, or at least comfortable. If he’s dreaming, it’s not strong enough to show, so maybe he got a good night of sleep. Again, you think, hope, plead for the same man to be there when he wakes.

His eyelashes flutter a few times, and open slowly. Close again, open. He looks at the dog, blinks, and then he finds you. Your stomach swirls with butterflies as he stares, and finally, after really waking up, a smile pulls on his lips—a sweet, sleepy smile.

“Jal jat-ssuh?”

“Ne,” he laughs. “That sounded good. Did you?”

“I did”

“Is my hair still orange?” He sits himself up and pulls on a piece to check.

Hopefully it doesn’t discourage him from today’s plans. Hopefully he remembers today’s plans. “It is, it looks good on you, though. A very handsome tangerine.”

“Tangerine? Do you like tangerines?”

“I love them”

“We’ll get some today”

He didn’t forget, and he’s still okay. Seungmin’s head falls back to the pillow, eyes close again, but his smile stays on his lips. And then he starts to hum. If this mood lasts long enough, maybe you can finally hear him sing. You let him go for a little while longer, until he starts to quiet, probably dozing off again…

Seungmin is cute when he’s focused, and he’s very focused on the grill between you; poking and flipping the meat, plating it carefully. His mouth is squished to one side, and the dimple on his cheek is especially noticeable.

“You’re good at this”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I’m so used to eating alone. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I am, too, it’s okay.” You take the plate from him, and he hands you a few of the things he hoarded on his side of the table. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” He takes a very big bite of zucchini, and it takes a few moments for him to get it down. “I feel…pretty good. Better now that we’re eating. I don’t like being hungry.”

“Good. The mall was pretty crowded, so it was nice not being alone. Still, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“We shouldn’t have to do it again for a while. I think we replaced everything you lost, plus extra.”

“Too much extra”

“No, not if it makes you happy”

Happy Seungmin is still here, and now he has a full stomach...even better. You can’t get attached to this feeling, but you’ve become much more attached to him than you thought was possible it such a short amount of time—all of him, good and bad…and the bad still seems to outweigh the good by a lot. It doesn’t seem believable, looking at him right now, but this was him the day you met, you think. Maybe not completely, because he was obviously on the hunt when you showed up, but this Seungmin was there, a little bit. You could feel it—he felt right. He still does.

“Sitting here with you makes me happy”

He stops stirring his broth and looks at you. Was that too much? It was too much, you might as well have just told him you love him. What if you trigger something, and whatever is going on in his head changes completely? You need to get a hold on whatever is going on in your own head. He’s staring, and you can feel it, even with your eyes fixed on your plate.

“Why?” He whispers. You barely hear it, and it’s as if he’s speaking to himself. Asking himself. “I haven’t done anything to make you feel that way.”

“Yes you have”

“Tell me”

The server interrupts with more banchan, more water, more tea. It gives you a whole ten seconds to think, and not sound like an idiot when you answer. Does he really want to know, or is he just putting you on the spot?

“You came back for me, and you took care of me…do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I tend to forget what I say, apparently”

There’s some attitude in his voice, and you immediately regret saying it. He obviously remembers you asking him the same thing yesterday morning.

“I remember. Depends, though, I said a lot of things.” He moves his eyes around as he thinks, and you’re relieved to see a smirk pop up. “But I assume you’re referring to…killing anyone who touches you.”

He did say a lot of things last night, but yeah…you nod at him.

“You liked that.” No more attitude. He whispers, almost growls under his breath. “Didn’t you?” His eyes are so heavy, and dark. He’s still smiling, but it’s different. It’s so much different. “You did.”

“Maybe”

“Speaking of that..someone in here has been staring at you since we walked in”

“I doubt that”

His eyes move slowly to the left, and stay there. You look in the same direction as discreetly as possible, and you see who he’s talking about—it’s the bartender, and Seungmin is right. He wipes down the bar and smiles at you, but looks away almost immediately after. Maybe the timing was just a coincidence, though.

“He’s just looking. He barely looked.”

“I don’t really like that, either”

“Seungmin”

A shiver runs over you when he says your name…whispers it. “Why don’t you get up and head to the bathroom. Leave the door unlocked.” He cocks his head to the side when you don’t move, or respond. “Please.”

He smiles when you push your chair back, and shows you all of his teeth when you stand. Still happy. If this keeps him that way, he doesn’t have to ask again—as if you'd deny him. Your legs already shake at the thought of him touching you. The bartender's eyes are on you as you walk by, and you feel them linger as you disappear down the short hallway toward the (luckily) private bathroom. You close the door, lean against it, and look around. It’s nice, at least.

Thirty or so seconds pass between you closing the door, and his soft knock. You don’t know why your heart races. It could be that you’ve never done this before, and it doesn’t help that the bartender saw both of you come back here, and he knows exactly what’s going on. If you’re nervous enough, you won’t be able to do this, and he’ll be very disappointed.

The doorknob turns, and he comes in slowly. It’s just Seungmin, there’s no reason to be nervous, and it’s just public sex…very public for you…but your stomach drops when you see someone else…not him, not even close. You only see the face for a split second before he disappears—pulled backward so fast, and with so much force, the door slams shut again. A thud on the other side of the wall echoes through you, through the bathroom, and you have to assume through the entire restaurant. And then, right before you pull the door open, you hear it again. The man—the bartender, is on the floor, flat on his back with one hand covering his bloody face, and there’s a crack in the plaster wall. Seungmin is standing over him, still seeing red, but showing some restraint by not touching him again.

“Wh-what happened?”

He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “Naleul bwa...” He nudges the man with his foot until he removes his hand and looks up. “Creep.”

A small crowd gathers at the end of the narrow hallway, but he pushes through, still holding you close. Nobody says a word or stops you as you grab your bags and head for the door, and as soon as you get outside, you’re both lost in the crowd.

“Stop, stop…Seungmin!”

“Yeah, what is it?” He slows down, but he doesn’t stop. “You okay?”

“What the hell happened?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s walking you as far away as possible, as calmly as possible. The look on his face is familiar, but different…nervous, worried, excited maybe. You can tell his adrenaline is sky high, and you don’t know why, but you assume this is unusual for him—this somewhat random act of violence. Almost everything you’ve witnessed from him has been disjointed and clumsy, but he hasn’t been caught yet, so you know he’s been careful up until this point. You’re messing him up.

Finally, he stops and lets you catch your breath.

“We’ll head back, drop your things off…”

“Seungmin”

“I’ll drive us to Uljin, if you still want to get flowers”

“Uljin?”

“Yeah, let’s go before we miss the train”

The train is crowded, of course—standing room only, and Seungmin’s fingers grip your wrist the entire time. He’s clearly overwhelmed and soothing himself; there’s nothing romantic or possessive about it, he’s just suddenly very nervous about something. Either the crowd, or what just happened. You change the subject for now, not wanting to move his mind around the incident anymore than necessary. “Uljin is far.”

“I know. I can get us there in three hours, and if you’re tired we can wait until morning to drive back.”

You close the space still left between you, until your face grazes his sweatshirt, “why so far for flowers?” The small corner of the silk handkercheif just pokes out from his back pocket. You didn't notice it before, or catch him putting it there before you left this morning.

“They’re the best ones. And they’re always there for me.”

The ride wasn’t as long and awkward as you feared it would be. Both of you were silent most of the way, but Seungmin kept his music low the entire time, not once deviating from whatever playlist he initially put on. It feels like he’s made this drive more than a few times, and he has a set routine. As you moved closer and closer to the end of the drive, everything became greener, and darker. Lush and beautiful in some spots, but desolate and almost forgotten in others. It all seemed to reflect him.

You’re not sure how far out you are from the destination when he makes the second and final stop, but it’s been three hours, almost exactly, so you wonder why he made another stop at all.

He doesn’t go inside the gas station, but you do. For no reason, really. You check yourself in the bathroom mirror, grab some water, and then watch him for a moment before leaving. Maybe he just needed to stretch his legs—he’s walking slowly toward the edge of the pumps, and then across toward where a small section of woods start. It zig-zags upward and into a much larger section that you can’t see the end of. Seungmin is staring through those trees, hands in his coat pockets, and he doesn’t move when you exit and jingle the bell above the door.

“Here, you haven’t had anything since we left.” He looks at the bottled water in your hands, sighs, and takes it.

“About twenty minutes…we should be there”

“Where exactly is there?” Seungmin downs half of his water before stopping and taking a breath. It’s cold out, but sweat is beading on his forehead and around his temples. You reach up and touch his cheek with the back of your hand, and he turns his head away. “Sorry. You’re very warm. Do you feel okay?”

He nods and takes another long drink, “there is the house I grew up in.”

“Oh.” They’re the best ones, and they’re always there for me makes much more sense now. It’s sentimental. The flowers here are special…special enough for a six-hour roundtrip drive.

The remainder of the trip takes you further into the woods. The road narrows, and the pine trees get closer and closer until, every mile or so, there’s a break in the woods, a clearing, and you can see the sky as it slowly darkens. You know when you arrive, because there’s one lonely hanok in the distance. Seungmin sighs again. He never turned the music back on, so you can hear every sound, and every breath. The snap of twigs under the tires, the chirp of bugs, and the chatter of a few magpies fills most of the silence.

“You grew up here?”

He doesn’t answer until you turn and look at him.

“Yeah, until I was nine. And then…” he can stop there. He doesn’t have to tell you every single thing. You’re just making conversation, not setting him down for therapy. “I got passed around to different family members.”

“Were they good to you?”

Somebody certainly wasn’t, and Seungmin knows you know that. He can feel you looking through him, gathering up his thoughts, and his feelings, and figuring things out on your own. “Yes, my grandparents did the best they could, and my aunts…they did, too.”

His answers just make more questions, considering his life now, but you’ll save them for another time.

The car comes to a slow stop. The house is dark and overgrown, but still somewhat looked after, you assume because of him. To your left is a large garden shed, not as well kept. Once, it was probably nice, but time was not kind to it. A little further down is a large greenhouse, also starting to show its age, but it’s iron and glass, and it’s standing strong without much help.

“Good”

“I wasn’t…uh,” he stops himself this time, and reconsiders. Instead of finishing his thought, he opens the door and steps out.

You do the same, and as soon as you stand and close the door, something hits you. It hits your chest, and works its way down to your stomach until you can’t stay on your feet. You kneel, trying not to fall onto the cold, damp ground, but your hands spread out in front of you as you lean forward and empty the contents of your stomach onto the grass.

“Fuck…what happened? Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you get car sick?”

His hand on your shoulders takes you back two nights, and the memory makes you feel a little bit better. Opening your eyes and staring into the distance makes it worse again. “No.”

“You’re warm, too”

“Maybe we should do this tomorrow, if we’re staying the night." After the long drive, Seungmin might want to do it now, so why are even asking? But you also know he doesn't feel well. The fever heat between the two of you could bloom more flowers. "We should."

“We can," he says, secretly a little grateful, “I’ll find a room somewhere”

He pulls you to your feet, and it feels awful, but once you’re up and leaning against him, the dizziness is gone. “We’re not staying here?”

“No, we wouldn’t be very comfortable in there”

/ / /

The sick feeling passes eventually, and the room Seungmin finds at the last minute is not far. It’s small, and it’s comfortable. He’s working on the instant tteokbokki a few feet away, very focused, just like he was at the restaurant.

“It smells good”

“Feeling better? We have frozen bungeoppang, too. The hosts are very generous, we got lucky.”

“Lucky, even with one tiny bed?”

“Yeah, even with one tiny bed,” he laughs, and looks at the twin-size bed tucked away in the corner. He’s reminded of the one in your apartment that he never got to try, and he’s surprised his mind can even go there right now. The memory of his last trip home is mostly a blur, even though it wasn’t more than a day or two before you showed up. “Let’s eat, and get into bed.”

Still happy. So why are you suddenly feeling so empty? “I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” You pick at and stir your food, and watch him devour his. “Hey…”

“Yes?”

“What happened earlier, at the restaurant?”

He was hoping you forgot about that. Seungmin isn’t typically violent unless he plans on seeing it to the end, so today was unusual. He keeps himself out of sight, and out of people’s memories, because he can’t afford to be noticed that much. He doesn’t regret what he did, though, and he has no problem admitting to himself that it felt good. “Before I got up, he started following you. He watched you walk by, and maybe you looked at him and he thought it was an invitation…or he’s just a piece of shit taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“I don’t think I looked at him”

“I caught up, just in time”

“And smashed his face into the wall”

“I didn’t know what I was going to do, but yeah, it seemed like the best choice at the time”

“It was effective”

“Still ruined our moment.” Seungmin’s eyes are tired, but he’s obviously nudging you into bed for more than just sleep. He wants to make up for whatever lust was building inside of him earlier, and you haven’t told him no a single time yet. Why would he expect you to tell him no tonight? But you’re feeling off—much more than just tired. It may have been the adrenaline rush earlier, combined with the very long car ride. It could just be the new setting, because the new setting reminds you a little bit of home, right down to the claustrophobic woods and this 300 square feet of living space.

“Maybe we should go to sleep.” You say, staring hard at your food as you eat. “It’s been a long day.”

/ / /

The twin bed is perfect, at least for you. Seungmin backed himself against the wall and kept his hands to himself after you crawled in beside him, and luckily, there was nothing but sleep for both of you almost immediately. A sharp pinging sound wakes you, and you open your eyes to him at the tiny kitchen counter. The sound you hear is sleet falling against the window, and the realization makes you shiver under the covers…but the smell of brewing coffee brings you right back.

The icy rainfall picks up as you force yourself into a sitting position, but staying up is still hard, regardless of his soft good morning, and his eyes peeking over his mug.

“Morning.” The headache has been there for a while, but you’re conscious now, and really feeling it. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven, we slept a lot”

You count to three and force your feet onto the cold floor, “doesn’t sound like good driving weather out there,” and make it to the other stool, where now you see an empty mug and a plate of warm bungeoppang. Without a word, you reach a hand up and set it on his forehead. “How did you sleep?”

Seungmin doesn’t shake it away, but he gives you a confused look, and he shrugs. “I slept.”

“Did you have any dreams? Nightmares?”

“The usual. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Because you had one, too. “You had a fever yesterday. It’s gone.”

“I think you took it from me, you look miserable”

“Do I?” Miserable is a strong word, but the headache, and the slightly off feeling is definitely close. Maybe you’re allergic to something up here. You make a mental note to take something for that, and for the headache, just in case.

“As soon as the rain stops, we’ll get what we came for, and then head back. Eat something.”

/ / /

The drive through the narrow forest road is even crunchier this time. Tiny icicles hang off tree branches, and no bugs chirp this time…no birds sing. It’s somehow darker this afternoon than it was yesterday at dusk, and the low mist hanging over the property makes you wish you would have just gotten this over with yesterday. Something strange is definitely living in these woods It’s beautiful, though, in its own lonely way. It’s still very alive here and it breathes easily through the cracks in the wood.

Seungmin is quiet, and you expect that. Whatever you’re feeling right now, he must be feeling it threefold. This is his home—or it was, at least, at a very important time in his life. The memory of why he had to leave is still lingering here.

Greenhouse is all he says as he steps out. You follow, and this time, you feel okay when your feet hit the ground. The headache is still there, but not so bad that you can’t fight through it, so you catch up with him and try not to lose your footing in the soft, muddy ground.

“Take your time, it’s uneven down here”

You watch each step as you take it, and weave around the stones and spots where the grass is drowning from the melted snow and ice. Some spots are still slick, so you wonder how anything could possibly be hanging on mid-December…especially what he came for. Even inside the greenhouse. You catch a shine of light from the corner of your eye and stop, even as he bolts ahead of you. Something in the ruins of the shed catches what little bit of sunlight makes it through the clouds.

"Come on..."

The boots you wore could have been better; could have been worse. Seungmin’s Redwings are splattered and caked with mud, old and new, because he knew what he was getting into up here. These are specifically the boots he wears here, you think. No hunting, no murder, no body disposal. Every job has its own equipment.

It’s even prettier up close, and inside, through the condensation rising up every perfect panel of glass, you see green and yellow. Purple, and blue. He opens the door to the anteroom, and the sweet smell of flowers fills you up. When he opens the main door, the warmth still trapped inside almost knocks you on your back.

“Does someone tend to this all year, or…”

“No.” He heads to a workspace in the corner and picks up a pair of gardening shears, a little rusty, but probably still very sharp. “Nobody comes here but me.”

“I like it, it’s nice”

“Yeah?”

You catch up to him and nod, “mhm, I don’t like it outside, but this is better.”

Seungmin leads you to the spot filled with purple flowers. Some of them fill big decorative pots, and some are elevated on homemade wooden shelves, but the largest ones are in the ground. It’s a little bit chaotic, but something about it feels organized at the same time. It’s everywhere, but it’s everywhere exactly where somebody wanted it.

“I see why you came all this way. It’s yours.”

He doesn’t answer. Seungmin lowers himself to the ground and kneels, and you watch as he does nothing for a very long time. The sounds of the greenhouse take over; the creak of the panels as the wind outside hits, and the cries of the bugs. Whatever insects managed to make a home for themselves here are very happy. And it isn't until now that you notice the sound of a single windchime. You find a spot to sit and wait, but you keep your eyes on him. Eventually, after more of his silence passes, it feels as if you’re intruding on something very personal, so you stand, quietly turn away, and focus your attention on a different spot; on different flowers.

What he’s doing over there is more cathartic and necessary than you can imagine.

Seungmin is always careful about how much he cuts and where he cuts from. Some blossoms seem brighter than others, and those are the ones he knows he can take. But before he does anything…

“how have you been?”

It’s exceptionally quiet, and his voice, so soft and light, carries in the small space. At first, you assume he’s speaking to you, because he’s speaking English. But he’s not. You can’t block out his words, so you walk as far from him as you can in an attempt to give him some privacy, but…he knows you’re here. He invited you inside knowing what he was going to do.

“Okay, I guess…sometimes it’s tough to tell from the inside”

Silence. He waits a few moments before speaking again…

“I am, I promise”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　　

“I know, I’m not alone this time, isn’t that strange? It feels so strange”

⋆ . 　　˚　　　　*　　　

“Yes, it’s a good thing, I know”

　✦　˚ 　˖✶

“I’m trying really hard, I promise”

The silence is much longer this time. You think he might be finished, but he speaks one more time…

“Saranghaeyo…I love you, too”

You finally turn and look at him through a cluster of forget-me-nots, and he’s bowing so low you can hardly see him. The sound of the shears opening and closing finally comes, and you see him very carefully trimming what he needs. Two bundles. He takes both to the workspace, ties them with string, and wraps them gently in dark brown paper. The amount of care he takes is impressive, and he doesn’t rush through it. You take the opportunity to move closer to the blooms of heliotrope, but not too close. Just enough to admire them. They look like they just saw a warm, summer day, not the cold, icy morning you woke to. You almost forget it’s December as you stare at them.

“I’m ready, if you are.” His voice, still gentle, makes you jump.

“Yes, I’m ready”

“Oh, hold on.” Seungmin walks to the corner where you hid, looks around for something, and after a few minutes of him moving things around, digging, pulling, and digging again, he returns with dirt-covered hands and a small pot filled with the little blue flowers. “We’ll take these, too.”

He hands it over, and you hold it close as you start toward the cold again. The rain begins to fall as you carefully make your way back to the car, but it’s just a fine mist this time, no more ice. The bundles of heliotrope are placed in the backseat, but you hold tight to your flowers. Seungmin never implied they were yours, but you know they are. The forget-me-nots are for you.

The closer you get to Seoul, the more withdrawn you feel him becoming. There was some conversation this time, very minimal, and very light, but you said nothing of Uljin, or the greenhouse, or the conversation he had with the flowers. It slowly dwindled until it became a painful silence; no music, not even a contemplative sigh from him. You held your flowers and stared out of your window until the countryside slowly turned to small town, to city, to busy highways, and finally…home. Home?

“I’ll be gone for a few hours”

He tended to his flowers first. One bundle in the vase, the other tied and hung on the side of the window nearest the kitchen.

“Gone? You’re leaving?”

“Haven’t we seen enough of each other over the last two days?”

“Uhm…” Yeah, you guess so. “Sure.”

“I have to get rid of that body, and the carpet. It might take a while.”

The body. You completely forgot about two nights ago. How could you forget about watching him kill someone right in front of you? Luckily, Seungmin didn’t. He may have kept it at the front of his mind this entire time.

A quick change of clothes, and he’s gone without another word or glance in your direction.

The last two days and the night before was more than you expected from him—but enough? How could it possibly be enough? Whoever you were with today in the greenhouse, and in bed with yesterday morning; there’s so much of him you haven’t seen yet. You’ve barely met him. This was nowhere near enough.

So you shower and sort your things from your two shopping trips in an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But where to put them? Not in his drawer, because you need permission for that, and not in his neat, organized (full) closet. Eventually, you decide on folding and setting most of it on the chest near his bookshelves. The vase of flowers sit brand new and bright and fragrant exactly where the previous ones did, and now you have a chance to really look at them; you touch the delicate little petals and lean forward to take in more of the scent, and you wonder what exactly all of this means to him, because it’s something very special. Some of it you think you can figure out on your own, but you know there’s much more.

The flowers send your thoughts back to the music box. Your fingers itch to touch it again—to pick it up and turn the key, so you do. Seungmin isn’t here, and he might not be back for hours, and maybe he wouldn’t mind you looking at everything more closely. He didn’t seem to mind the first time. You pick it up and examine it in the low light. On top, there's a design burned and stained into the wood: a cloud-covered full moon shining down on a leaping rabbit. You turn the key three times, and hold it as it plays a sweet, sad melody that you don’t recognize. Inside you see the necklace, the one that looks almost exactly like yours, a silver bracelet, and a ring that could only be a wedding band. There’s a small piece of worn paper tucked into the corner, folded into the shape of a butterfly, and you leave that alone. You can see little bits of Hangul written on it, so clearly, it’s some sort of note. Even if you could read it…well, you could always use your phone and translate it—no, it’s none of your business.

The drawer could be your business, though. You’ve already seen it, and you can’t imagine it’s much different now than it was that night, but just thinking about it gets your heart racing.

You click his lamp on first, and look at everything sitting on the table. These are things you haven’t done yet, and there are so many little details about him still to learn. His glasses sit in their open case; a pair of thick black-rimmed ones, not the ones you’ve seen him in. His other ones, the ones that suited him so well, were round metal frames, and they’re not here. His silver Chanel necklace is here, and two prescription bottles that you never noticed before. KIM SEUNGMIN is written on the side of both—lorazepam (the little white pill he offered during your panic attack) and haloperidol. The haloperidol doesn’t look like it’s been touched, but the other is nearly empty. So, he has been diagnosed with something, and medicated for it, he just hasn’t followed through with his treatment. Maybe he’s tried, and it didn’t work—or it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. Finally, the drawer. It’s a little messier than you remember, but not bad. He probably hasn’t touched it since he killed two nights ago because the knife isn’t back in its spot. The sheath is there, and the cuffs, the gag. You carefully pick up one of the syringes and examine it, turn it so you can see the liquid inside move around like a tiny lava lamp. Still three of them. Further back, you feel something else. Something small. It’s an earring, just a tiny gold cuff, and it looks familiar. You reach and touch the top of your left ear, and you realize it’s yours. It must have fallen off while you slept, and he found it, and threw it in his drawer…but why didn’t he just return it?

Just as you put it back and turn off the lamp, you hear the click of the lock. You’d like to stay up and greet him, but if he’s still in the mood he was when he left, it might not be worth it. Instead, you climb under the covers and turn off the lamp on your side. He doesn’t come in right away. You can hear him go straight to the shower, and you stay awake and listen the whole twenty minutes he spends in there. Next, you hear him in the kitchen, and the thought makes your stomach growl. You haven’t eaten since midway through the ride home earlier, and that’s hardly worth mentioning. Maybe you should get up and see him, eat with him, if that’s what he’s doing. But you can’t move. You look at your phone: 9 pm. It’s not late at all, but the dark and the cold makes it feel so much later.

As soon as you smell coffee brewing, you decide to get up and check on him.

Seungmin is sitting in the kitchen, elbows on the counter, head down, face completely hidden in his hands. You can’t actually go out there and face him—no, you’re going to be a coward, because the possibility of his anger, no matter how small, is already making you tear up. But his little movements, the shake of his shoulders, make you think that’s what he’s already doing. You push the door up and slink back to bed and under the covers, and this time you somehow fall asleep.

/ / /

The cold air and smell of cigarette smoke wake you, hardly half an hour later, and as soon as you open your eyes, Seungmin slides the balcony door closed. You briefly shut them again when he walks up your side of the bed, and heads to his bookshelf. He looks at the flowers but does nothing else, and because he turned his lamp back on, you can see his face, and you can tell he was crying. He lifts his arm and wipes his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, so you have to assume he just managed to stop while he smoked.

He stretches his neck, pulls his sweatshirt off, and heads for his side of the bed. You feel the blankets shift, and the movement as he sits and slides himself underneath. Then you hear the rattle of a pill bottle…the full one, but you don’t hear him remove the lid. He shakes it again, as if he’s looking at it and thinking, but places it back on the table, unopened. You’re relieved when he finally settles onto his pillow. You can relax again, maybe even turn and face him in your pretend sleep, but you don’t get a chance; Seungmin moves closer, and closer. You try not to jump when his hand slides hesitantly up your arm, over your shoulder, and then back down. He moves once more, until his chest can press against your back.

You’re positive he can feel your racing heart, your erratic breathing. His steady breath is traveling down your neck, under the collar of his tshirt you’re still wearing. Should you say something, let him know you’re awake and here with him? It’s possible the thought of you sleeping while he does this makes it easier, and you don’t want to ruin that, so you wait. His hand is on you again, but the touch is still hesitant and stuttery. Seungmin is thinking about his next move. He’s unsure.

After a few more moments, it slides between your arm and your waist, wraps around your stomach, and gently squeezes. He’s pulling you tight against him, finally, all of him. His forehead rests against the nape of your neck; his hips, his thighs, all curve and surround you. Skin on skin, warm under the blankets. You wait until you feel him relax, then set your hand over his…

“Oh, did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t.” You feel him pull his hand back, but you hold tight and lace your fingers with his. “You didn’t.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long, I heard you coming in from the balcony.” Seungmin isn’t as relaxed now. You can feel his body tense, and his breathing change. “I felt you climb into bed.”

He pulls away again, and this time, he escapes your grasp. Seungmin pushes himself back, and when you turn to look, he’s already facing away, readjusting himself back into his spot.

“Seungmin?” Does he think you saw him crying? He must, and he’s right. Should you tell him he’s allowed to do that? “Can I come over there?” You whisper. “Please.”

“If you want to”

“I do,” you crawl to him and get back under the blankets, but instead of wrapping an arm around his waist, you grab his hip and pull until he’s flat on his back. “If…you want me to,” you really hope your smile will spread to him, but he just looks exhausted. His eyes are red and swollen, and his face is pale.

“Say it again,” he mumbles.

“Say what?"

Seungmin lets you push the hair away from his forehead and out of his eyes. “My name."

“Your name?”

He nods and closes his eyes, so your gaze drops to his lips—you haven’t kissed them in a long time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity. “Seungmin.”

“Mm, I like the way it sounds when you say it”

“Have I been saying it okay? Is my accent messing it up?”

“No…it’s perfect”

You take a chance while his eyes are still closed, first at the corner of mouth, and then a little closer. He doesn’t move, so you press your lips firmly against his. He returns it, and his breath deepens. You think he might stop at any moment, so you enjoy it—the way he tastes, the coffee and the leftover minty sweetness of his cigarette. He stays, though. He touches you. Seungmin’s hand moves to your waist and pulls you closer, and you think, maybe the night will be okay now…but it doesn’t last very long. It’s gone, and he turns his head until you stop kissing. Your lips land on his neck, and they stay there.

“Seungmin” you say again, whispering it slowly and carefully.

“I haven't been feeling very good”

“You haven't? What is it?”

He sniffles, and moves his legs against yours under the blankets. Seungmin is warm, but not fever-warm, and something tells you he doesn’t mean physically. Maybe he’ll open up this door, though. Telling you he isn’t feeling well is already a lock unlocked.

But he doesn’t say another word. What he does do is let you touch—he relaxes again as your palm slides over his chest, down his stomach. You press your lips to his collarbone and make a path across his shoulder. “Tell me what’s hurting.”

“Everything”

“Everything?”

“Almost everything”

"Your body?"

He slowly shakes his head.

"Something up here?"

Seungmin's eyes dart toward you as your fingers run through his hair. He thinks for a long moment before answering. "A little."

"Alright, one more...here?"

His hand closes over yours on his chest, but he doesn't give you a yes or no answer. If it's a yes, which you suspect it is, he's probably not going to give you anything else. You leave it at that.

“Tell me what feels okay, maybe it’ll help a little,” you follow the path you made, returning to his collarbone, and working your way up his neck. This time he’s more receptive to it, and his cheek turns to press against yours. “What feels good?”

Seungmin sets his hand on the small of your back and brings you closer. “Good?”

“Mhm…and how can I make it even better? Let me make you feel good.”

“Bite”

“Bite?”

“Right there, please”

You don’t bite yet, but you kiss him again, lick, and graze your teeth across his skin. “Right here?”

The sound he makes is small, and desperate, like he’s afraid you might not do it. “Please.”

Very cautiously, you suck the skin again, and bite until he makes another sound. It feels like a lot of pressure, but it’s not enough for him. You try again.

“Yeah…like that,” he moans, and squirms beneath you, “don’t be shy.”

The spot you sunk your teeth into starts to turn red, and the marks are there…but you didn’t break the skin. You kiss it, and then kiss a new spot just below it and nibble. When he squirms again, you bite down hard, and this time he sounds satisfied. He grabs your hand and guides it under his waistband, and you bite again when your fingers move over his head, down the length of his cock. You stroke him, and watch him watch you work.

“Don’t stop,” he brings you down to his chest, and when your tongue finds his nipple, “harder please”…you bite, and his hips push into your touch. “Fuck.”

You don’t hold back this time, and you feel the skin break between your teeth. The coppery taste of blood hits your tongue when you lick the spot, and Seungmin makes a sound like he’s never made for you before, and he moans your name…

“Seungmin”

“Mmm…yeah?” He sighs and grips your arm as you stroke, “yeah?” and he smiles as his head hits the pillow. Blood starts to bead from the mark on his chest, and it slowly drips down toward his stomach.

You watch it, then look at him, and the urge to clean it off is too strong to ignore. This is new for you. Is it new for him? Before you get the chance to try, he sits up. “Oh, you gonna bite me?”

Seungmin smiles, shakes his head, “no,” and gets himself out of his shorts, “no, sit back…” he touches you, and slides his hands up your outer thighs, but instead of undressing, they come back down, caressing, squeezing, as if he’s taking a moment to admire you. It gives you a knot in your stomach, the thought of it, and the look on his face. The next time they move up, he grabs your underwear and pulls.

The knot grows; the nervous feeling in your stomach won’t go away, and you don’t know why, because you’ve been here already. You’ve been with him, no panic attack. Again, he touches—very softly runs his fingertips over the top of your thigh and to your knee.

“Give me your arms, hold onto me.” He throws more pillows behind you, and rearranges them while he holds you against him. It feels so sweet and so personal, how he’s tending to the spot where he wants you. “Comfortable?”

“Oh…yeah,” you grip the back of his neck, and the other hand digs into his side. “This is nice.”

“Mm, your nails are sharp”

“Are they? Sorry,” you adjust your hold on him, but he shakes his head as you do.

“No…do your worst. Or your best, I guess.”

The thin line of blood running down his chest is beginning to dry, and the marks you made all over him are darkening. He wants more, though, and you can do that. You gently rake your fingers up his back…just enough to tickle, and then back down with a little more pressure. At the same time, his fingers tease you, ghosting up and down so perfectly and carefully.

You spread your legs in anticipation of more. “Hey,” you whisper. His eyes are wide open, but focused elsewhere, just away from you. He’s thinking hard, or spacing out…you can’t tell. “Look at me.”

A little smile tugs at his lips when he looks up, “hm?” And his eyes are big and shining inches from yours, ready to swallow you up. He pushes his hair away from his forehead and comes in for a kiss, and you’re not prepared. At all. It’s just like the elevator kiss—so deep and eager like he can’t get close enough. You fall back on your spot and pull him with you, and he keeps going, slips his tongue in, and moans softly into your mouth. You scratch across his back, not enough to mark, and he does it again.

Each time, you give him more. A little more pressure, a little slower.

He slides in, and with each push, hits deeper and stretches more. His lips keep kissing, though, like he’s trying to distract from the pain he might be causing as he pushes every inch into you. But with every twinge of pain, you dig deeper, pull so slowly, and feel your nails get close to breaking skin.

When you open your eyes to check, his upper back is so much more red and angry than you anticipated.

“Don’t stop,” he whines as he finally pulls away from the kiss.

“It looks so sore…Seungmin, I dunno if I can…” from here you see old scratches mixed in with the new ones, much older, scarred over—they look like more than scratches. How did you never notice them before? You’ve never seen him like this, in this light.

“You can,” he pants, “please.”

The skin is hot when you touch it, and you wince just thinking about how it must feel, but Seungmin doesn’t make a sound when you graze over it. He does, however, let you know that he likes it when you push your nails in again. One more swipe and you see blood.

You stop, and he doesn’t ask you to do it again—instead, he pushes in fully and stays there, kisses and sucks at your neck, nibbles a little, but nothing like what you did to him.

“Good,” he sighs and pushes your thighs upward, and he starts to move in and out, slow at first, but he can’t help himself. His breath catches as he speeds up, and loses himself in the moment, but still, he stays in your neck, moaning against your skin, and breathing down your back…into your ear where he whispers a fuck…fuck, as if he could come any second.

“Slow,” you knead your fingers into his hip, hold him off a little bit, “slow down, relax.”

Seungmin listens and does his best, but it feels too good.

“We have all night...all night”

But this is what he needs. He wants it now. This will make him feel better. All of this. The sting of his back, the gentle throb from each little bite mark, you squeezing so tight around him.

You place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere…Seungmin?” Then move it to the nape of his neck, being careful not to touch the scratches.

This time, he slows much more, almost stops. You worry for a moment and wonder if the words didn’t fall quite right on his ears, but you meant want you said—you’re not leaving.

“I do want you…all night,” Seungmin smiles, and he lets out a laugh tinged with nerves, as if he’s embarrassed about admitting exactly what he wants, or what he needs.

“Good. Did this…” you touch the spot on his chest, and smear the almost dried blood. Then you touch another. “Did this help?”

“A little”

“Sit up,” you hook your arm around his neck as he rises, and now you can slide onto his lap. “Hold onto me.”

Seungmin holds you where you are, hands on your hips, eyes on the space between you. You lift yourself, and you don’t have to tell him what to do—you’re more than ready for him again, and his cock slides in smoothly as you come down.

“Oh, that’s good.” Seungmin is smiling again, and his satisfied laugh is much less anxious. He grabs the back of your shirt and pulls so he can see everything as you move up and down on him…”neomu johda” he mumbles under his breath, “nice and slow,” lifts your shirt over your head, and both arms wrap around you.

“Much better, yeah?”

His presses his cheek against your chest, and you can feel his nod.

“I don’t mind working for it”

Seungmin laughs again, and turns his face to kiss wherever he can get to; your shoulders, your throat, down your chest to the soft skin of your breast. He’s surprisingly gentle when he gets there, and even more so when he runs his tongue around your nipple. He stares up at you, eyes wide and shining, as if he’s waiting for something…your reaction, your approval. It’s not a side of him you’ve seen—you didn’t think he even had a side like this.

You run the pad of your thumb just under his eye, where a faint scar shines in the light, and he smiles again. His face disappears against you, so all you see is the top of his peachy-colored head. Seungmin squeezes you close before letting go, and he falls back to rest on his palms.

“Cute”

His eyes open even wider, “what?” And he very slowly lowers himself as you push him flat on his back. “Me?”

“Maybe”

“Maybe?”

“You know what would be really cute?” You ask.

“What’s that?”

“You…coming for me”

Seungmin smirks when you laugh, and slowly rolls his hips, “so I can come now?” Your laugh turns to a moan. He does it again, and takes your hands in his. “How’s that feel?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t stop”

He doesn’t. Seungmin rolls his hips, sliding in and out so smoothly, but the stretch, the pain—this pain feels so good, just like his pain, your bites and your scratches. And the pressure as you finally get all of him in, when your body finally slams into his hips, Seungmin moves faster and faster, pulling you down close enough to kiss as he fucks you. He bites softly at your lip, slides his tongue against yours. The kiss throws you over the edge, and your orgasm hits so fast, and so hard, you scream right down his throat. His cum runs warm out of you as he slows, and stops, but you keep kissing, and Seungmin returns it.

“Okay,” you don’t want to, but you pull away to breathe, and Seungmin pulls you back for one more, “okay.” You lay down on him and try to catch your breath, listen as he catches his, and close your eyes to the feel of his chest rising and falling. One hand slides across your shoulders, and the other sets at his side, fingers fidgeting and picking at the blanket, and everything feels good, and normal.

The rumble in his chest as he groans and sighs brings you back a little, but you’re not ready to be back quite yet. It’s too nice, laying here on his chest, listening to the wild beat of his heart. But you give in, and look up at him—Seungmin is just as relaxed, maybe more. You slowly lift yourself off of him, and pull at the blankets, but you’re the wrong way around, and covering up isn’t easy.

“Seungmin?”

His eyes open slowly, and then immediately shut again.

“Turn over, so I can look at your back.” He listens, but this time, he winces in pain when the skin moves and stretches. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Before you get up, you have to give your legs a stretch, and before you can walk, you stand for a moment and adjust. As soon as your shirt is back over your head, you carefully head to the bathroom, trying not to trip in the dark. The hand towels are in the very last drawer you check, but the water comes out ice cold, just like you need it.

You lost yourself with him. Pushing him on his back was stupid, and a few of the scratches broke open even more.

“How does it feel?” You ask, and very slowly drape the cold towel across his shoulders. He winches again, but it’s quickly followed by a sigh of relief. “It hurts now that the moment is over, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it looks. I promise.”

Even if you do believe him, you can still see the pink of his blood coming through the opposite side of the thin towel. It spreads out and connects and starts to look like angel wings…butterfly wings. You think of the old note in his music box.

“Are there lots of butterflies in the greenhouse in spring?”

“Hm?” Seungmin lifts his head and tries to look at you, but you’re too far back. “Butterflies?”

“Yeah,” maybe you shouldn’t be mentioning the greenhouse right now, or bringing the trip back to his mind, but…he was happy for it. “The heliotrope and the asters, butterflies love them.”

“Yeah, you’re right…that’s why—“ he stops himself and lays his head back down on the bed, “that’s why they’re in there. Why do you ask?”

“Uhm, no reason…it just came to mind”

“We’ll see in a few months, I guess”

In a few months. In the future. That’s a nice thought. Will you both still be here? You look down at him and wonder as you gently lift the towel to inspect. “Do you have any antibiotic ointment?”

“You don’t have to do all that”

“Bathroom?”

Seungmin nods.

/ / /

He stares at you from his spot on the bed, right side up this time. Seungmin is on his stomach still, with one pillow fluffed up under his head and chest. You can’t tell for sure, but he might be a little annoyed at you for covering him in cream and making him stay still.

“Are you going to sleep?” He asks in a small voice. “Are you tired?”

“No, I’m not anymore…but you look tired”

“I’m always tired,” he turns away and pushes his face into the pillow, “or I always look tired.”

“No, you don’t. Just very pensive, and sad, and handsome.”

“Handsome? You said I was cute.” His face is still mostly hidden, but you can see one eye peeking at you.

“Yeah, you’re cute when you think really hard, or when you’re worried”

“So, all the time?”

“All the time”

The quiet that falls over the room is nice—it’s not awkward, or filled with questions. There’s no tension. Seungmin just lies there, eyes closed, comfortable and content, and he doesn’t move when you lay down next to him. You could fall asleep if you allowed yourself, but you could also lay here and look at him for a little while longer. All night. You pull the blankets higher, grab a second pillow, and something familiar catches your eye. The little yellow puppy rolls and falls between the bed frame and the wall, but you catch him just before he disappears. “Do you walk around on your own?” His big black eyes stare silently, and they remind you of someone.

“Do I look sad all the time?”

There they are…they open so wide, and he seems to focus on a spot somewhere behind you—somewhere in the dark where the light doesn’t reach.

“No, you don’t look sad right now”

Seungmin reaches out and takes his friend by the paw, squeezes it. Now he looks sad, as if something suddenly started weighing on his mind. You glance to the table where his pills sit, and wonder, stupidly, if you should ask about them—ask very gently if he’s given them a chance. Not tonight, though. “Does he have a name?”

“Hm? Oh…him, yeah he does. His name is Daengmo.” Seungmin smiles as he says it, but it matches the rest of him; sad. “Daengmo,” he whispers.

“Does it mean anything?”

“Yes, daengdaengie is for puppy, mo is…uhm,” he stops and thinks. Or hesitates. “Mo, for a nickname I had when I was little.”

“Mo? Your nickname was Mo?”

“Mo, or Seungmo. My mom called me that when I didn’t listen…when I misbehaved.”

“Maybe I should be calling you Mo”

The sad look fades a little, “because I’m bad?” Seungmin lifts himself up on his elbows and turns on his side.

“You are, objectively, sometimes. But…” Seungmin does bad things, and you’ve witnessed some of it. He’s lied, and he’s manipulated. He might still be lying, for all you know. But he’s also told you truths. You’re choosing to trust him right now, just like you’ve been since he brought you home, because he has shown you a surprising amount of kindness even though it was clearly difficult for him. “No, I don’t think you’re bad," ...because you think you might be in love with him.

“I’m glad you think that. I am, though. I’m a nightmare."

193 notes · View notes

celestie0 · 2 months ago

Text

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

226 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 1 month ago

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 19: SAKURA HARUKA + CAM SEX

♡ tags ; gender neutral reader, established relationship, cam sex, sub!sakura, dom!reader, livestream audience, cock rings, handjobs, 18+

♡ wc ; 1.3k

♡ a/n ; my other mildly late submission for @ficsforgaza that got 300 words longer in editing 🥲IM SORRY

♡ synopsis ; sakura is always good for you, even if it means being good for the camera.

It's too easy for Sakura to get pulled into your ideas. Becoming a cam couple is one of many times.

"Haru-kun," Your voice is a purr against the shell of his ear as Sakura sits in your lap. A soft, harsh breath gets pulled from his lungs as his eyes glance down to where the webcam angled. "Everyone is watching you baby,"

The thought alone is enough to make him flush. He's so spread out over your legs - completely exposed. Naked while you're clothed which only makes him all the more self-conscious.

He breathes, raggedly, watching as people roll into the chat room and pay you two all sorts of compliments. Some are people complimenting your voice - the soft sultry way of speaking you have.

Others are for him, praising him with the same saccharine nickname you always use for him. Praising the way he looks always makes him want to bury himself under ground. Cream colored skin, the flat pale plane of his stomach and chest - half-hard cock laying against his tummy with something tight around the base.

Sakura feels needy. He wants to fuck you or be fucked. You've been bullying him since morning so he isn't all that picky. He wants to cum. His cock is being restrained - balls tight. Even your light touches make him flinch so much he could cry.

He should hate this. He should have more dignity. He shouldn't be feeling like this. His head is filled with those thoughts.

Yet it's undeniable how much he gets turned on seeing himself and you in the screen. Something about your persona in the confines of the camera, nothing but a voice and deft hands makes Sakura blush.

You described the act of streaming your sex life together once as lewd once. Just to make him embarassed, but right now he thinks that. No one knows of you and Sakura other than this. People who come and tip just to see the two of you together.

Something about that always makes him sink further and further into that headspace. He doesn't need anyone else to look at him. But he likes that he gets to show off the way you have control over his body. No one will ever get to know what it feels like to be touched or adored by you - but they know how Sakura will feel because of it.

(You always insist that no one comes to the shows for you. A soft, warm laugh as he insists otherwise. You always say the same thing.

"Haruka, baby - you're the star. Everyone thinks your perfect so they tune in. And you know, I think so too."

It's embarrassing but it's also not true. Sakura knows that there are just many people fantasizing about you as they do him. That's part of the reason he doesn't hate being seen.

He'll never admit that to you, though.)

You've been going at this a few months now. An idea you had on a whim, coupled with a promise that Sakura will come to like it. You fell into it on accident with just a laptop and mic.

But now you've got a full set-up and there's an HD shot of Sakura on the screen before him. Of his weepy cock and the long tights digging into the fat of his thighs where they cut off. A better view of your hand, covered in rings with painted nails, sliding across his belly . You drag lightly, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples between his thumb.

Sakura makes a loud noise and you chuckle sweetly when he whines. His voice gives out a little.

"Quit teasin' me,"

"You like when I tease you though?" You hum, doing the same with your other hands. Sakura's eyes flutter shut as electricity jolts through his body - nipples hardening, puffy under your touch. His chest wasn't so sensitive before but you're always touching them.

He arches his back, cock hardening as it tugs against it's restraints. His voice gives almost instantly, voice petulant and thick with need. "No, ngh. I want you to—"

Sakura squirms. Becomes aware again that people are watching through bleary eyes as chat floods. You laugh.

"They're telling you to tough it out, Haru-kun. You can't give in so quick. We just started."

"You've been," He shifts in your lap, heart fluttering when you hold his waist tight to keep him from thrashing. "teasing me all day, I can't. Don't wanna hold it in anymore."

"Poor baby," you hum. The faux sympathy makes him harder. "They're all saying I'll be spoiling you too much if I give into you like this Haru." Your hand slides down to his belly, just above where is cock stands. Your fingers scratch lightly along his navel, and his heart jumps into his throat. "Can't have them thinking you don't know how to behave, can I?"

Sakura feels his cock jump. Chat rushes again when it happens, his cock dribbling pre-cum against your hand and you haven't even touched him yet. Fuck.

You haven't even touched him but the anticipation makes him sweat. He wants and wants and wants it so bad. He gives into his baser desires and his needs, forfeiting whatever shred of dignity he had planned on keeping. Pouts his lips with a soft huff.

"Fuck. C'mon, please. Touch me. Wanna cum, please." He sniffles a little, feels you smile against his neck where you're kissing it. "I'll be good. Please."

You inch your hand closer and he shakes. "Yeah? You'll be good for me baby?"

"Yeah," He hiccups, dazed already. "Shit, I—I'll be good, won't—hicc—please. I'm,"

"You're actin' so desperate, Haru. D'you really need me to touch your cock so bad? Everyone's seeing you act spoiled, you know? Aren't you embarassed?"

He can't use his head to conjure up a thought conscious enough for reply. He turns his head to side to get a look at your face, where your chin rests on his shoulder. He mumbles a little.

"Kiss," He says. If your chat hears him, he's never going to hear the end of it. But he needs it so bad, needs to feel you somehow. And you never say no to a kiss.

Your grin widens. "Open your mouth,"

You kiss Sakura with tongue. It's loud and wet, all tongue and teeth and he knows you're doing it on purpose. His cock swells as he moans into it, chasing the phantom touch of your hands more than anything. He can hear people commenting again but he doesn't care. He pulls away, a thread of saliva connecting you.

"Wanna cum." He says, nuzzling against your cheek with his neck craned - flush red and so so ashmed. "Please. Want it."

You laugh at him just a little. Another kiss as you hum.

"Okay, baby. Let them see." You tap his thigh for him to spread his legs and he does. "Let them see me spoil you, yeah?"

Sakura melts into your chest as you say it. Eyes closed, panting - as you fiddle with the ring around his cock and let him free. Your palm swipes over the head, collecting all the pre-cum he's leaked before wrapping again around his shaft.

Sakura moans. Hard and loud, he curses under breath and fucks the tight hole of your fist without thinking. You shh him but don't tell him to stop, matching his need thrusts with a warm laugh.

"Look at you," You whisper, so loving as his body starts to give in. His stomach flips, curling with restless want. He's so close. "Everyone is watching. They'll all see you cum. But you're cumming for me, aren't you?"

Sakura just nods. "'Hngh. Yes, fuck. Love you, love you."

You hum. "I love you too. Let them see how pretty you are when you cum."

Sakura's whole body tenses as he shoots his load. Hot, sticky threads of cum spilling into your fingers as he releases it with a cry. He hiccups loud as he finishes, swearing as you grip him to you so he doesn't fall.

"Good boy," You whisper, as his chest rises and falls. "You put on such a good show for me."

Sakura melts, dazed. Always for you.

#sakura x reader #windbreaker x reader #sakura smut #windbreaker smut #fics for gaza #sakura haruka x reader #writing tag #sakura haruka smut

105 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

Text

Muddled Waters 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, blood, violence,, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.

Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Your shift goes as usual. You make drinks to order and bring them out to the tables, or to set in the windows set into the walls of the private rooms. Those are for the more exclusive patrons, the ones who remain mostly faceless. The Sapphire is as close to a speakasy as you’d find in this century.

As you bring out a single scotch and place it on the ledge of the order window, a voice intone from the other side.

“Pardon me,” the English lilt wafts through, “your boss wouldn’t happen to be in house?”

You pull back your hand and consider the question. The customers in the rooms never talk to you. No thank yous, no pleases, no special orders. Those all come through the screen in the back which lists their demands; no olives, extra salt, double vodka...

“No, sir, I’m sorry, he’s not in,” you reply.

“Pity,” he remarks and a hand reaches to take the glass. “You will let him know I was here. In Room Four.”

“I’ll mention it. Would there be a name I should give him?”

“He will know,” he returns and footsteps scuff away from the window. Right.

You’re somewhat used to the cryptic. As nice as Nick can be, he isn’t always straightforward. The establishment does give you reason to bat an eye but for the most part, your pay stubs keep your gaze in the other direction.

You return to the kitchen and work at cleaning the used glasses brought by the singular busboy. You don’t know his name and he doesn’t talk. He always has earbuds in and only puts bins of dishes in the wash tray.

To say the operation is minimal is an understatement. Yet there is never more demand than you can meet. It makes you wonder how Nick breaks even with such a limited audience. Especially with the grade of ingredients he gets in. You never worked at a bar that didn’t water down their liquor now and again.

The night comes to an end and the lights dim as the bar closes up. The busboy clears the rooms and locks the front door. You leave the glasses in sparkling rows on the shelves and a bin of dishcloths to have washed the next day. You place away a few stray bottles then wipe down the counters.

“You’re here late,” Nick’s voice startles you and you hiss, looking up at him from the edge of your vision.

“Cleaning up,” you say and toss the cloth with the rest. “Just finishing now.”

“Mm,” he nods and hooks his thumbs in his belt loops, “you wouldn’t happen to have time to make me something, would ya? I’ll keep it simple.”

You withhold a sigh. Or maybe a yawn. Your eyes tingle and you shrug, “sure, what do you want?”

“Rye and coke,” he answers as he approaches the island and crosses his arms over the top, leaning on the stainless steel.

You swiftly gather everything you need and put together the simple drink. You set it before him and return all you disturbed back to its rightful place. You face him as he raises the glass and considers the dark elixir.

“Oh, er, someone asked for you,” you untie your apron and fold it over the bin meant for tomorrow’s laundry.

“Someone did? Was she pretty?” He winks.

You shake your head, “no. It was a man. He was in Room Four. That’s what he told me to tell you.”

“Room Four,” he repeats and puts the brim to his lips, taking a slow draw. His cheeks dimple before he pulls it away. “Noted.”

You nod at his strange reaction. Almost none at all. You check the time and drag your hands over your head.

“Well, I’m going to head home,” you say, “if that’s okay?”

“Quitting time,” he says coolly, his eyes stuck on the cabinet, a squiggle in his forehead. “Go on, get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“You too,” you shoot back. “Look like you need it.”

You pass him and he stands, turning to watch you, “hey, what does that mean?”

“Nothing, just... look tired.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he scoffs.

You go through to the backroom and grab your jacket and purse. It’s not really a strange night. A few out-of-the-ordinary occurrences, but nothing worrying. The man in Room Four and Nick’s late-night appearance; it’s not really a pattern.

You glance back at the kitchen door before you leave. You head out the back and walk down the next street. You approach your car parked by the curb, the rush hour jam keeping you from finding a closer spot. You take out your keys and they jangle loudly as your footsteps echo.

As you shove your keys into the slot, you’re suddenly taken off your feet, a blunt force jarring your wrist as your fingers catch in the keyring. You hit the ground with wheeze and roll across the stray pebbles as you hug your chest. You can’t breathe.

“Look, honey,” the British voice hisses through the night, “I didn’t wanna bring you into this but I needa send a message.” A figure straddles you on their knees, holding you down by your neck. “Not much, you’ll live...” you hear a metallic shing, “bit of blood is all.”

You feel a piercing pain just below your neck, right at the small dip of your collar bone. You cry out as the metal slices down your chest and easily through your shirt. Your skin parts with the fabric as you vibrate in agony.

“Get... off,” you cough out as you regain your breath. “Please...”

“Shh, honey,” he takes the knife away and smears his hand over your chest, your warm blood spreading under his rough palm, “I just want him to see you painted up nice for him.” He drags his hand over your face, the metallic scent staining your nose and lips. “Mm, you are a pretty thing, too.”

The man wiggles his hips lasciviously before he pushes himself off of you. He stands and you cover your ragged skin with your hands and whine, sobs rising from the pain hewn into your flesh. There’s a noise, something distant, maybe a door, and the man’s silhouette strolls off, whistling into the night.

Another set of footfalls approach you as you writhe on the ground. You don’t understand what happened. Why did that man do this to you? You can’t move. You can’t think. You just can’t.

The street light flickers as someone steps around the front of your car.

“Shit,” Nick rushes over and falls to his knees beside you, “shit, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have let you come out here alone. I shoulda knew...”

“Why?” You babble as your blood seeps between your fingers, “why, Nick?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and bawl. He slides his arms under you and lifts you as you exclaim. He hushes you as he holds you against his chest.

“It hurts,” you whimper.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he rasps, “I got you.”

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #the 355 #muddled waters #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #series

114 notes · View notes

azureseacloud · 10 months ago

Text

Hidden Messages

Ghost (band)

Part 4

Dewdrop x Reader

Words: 2,727

Warnings: swearing

I’m back! Sorry about the delay, it’s been like almost two months 🫣

Anyway I hope you all enjoy, and as always my askbox is open so if you want to request or even just chat please do! :)

If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know <3

Tags: @gummy-dummy

@ghoulettess

@viylikescats

You hummed absentmindedly, tapping a pen against your cheek. You were sitting at your desk, working your way through the last changes Sister Imperator had wanted you to make. You’d already sent off the plans for accomodation and venue bookings, choosing to forgo skimming over them to save time. You’d finished them last night anyway.

Cirrus was on your bed, her beautiful form lounging as she idly looked through her phone. She was stretched out, leaning her back against the headboard with one leg crossed over the other.

Another notification popped through on your phone and you looked down to see it was from Cirrus again. You sighed, throwing the phone onto the foot of the bed, away from your reach before it distracted you.

“Really, Cirrus?” You were pretty sure the ghoulette chuckled. She held up her hands in mock surrender.

“You don’t have to check it now. Just think of it as a little reward after you’ve finished your work.” By her wicked smile you knew it was going to be more videos of Dewdrop. Satan below, why had you ever told Cirrus about him?

“You are almost done, right honey?” Cirrus asked hopefully. When she’d first come in you’d been laying on your bed typing. She’d joined you, cuddling into you and rubbing calming circles into your back to the point you had almost fallen asleep. After that you had rolled away, choosing to sit at your desk to finish the last of the documents.

It was almost 10pm now and you had almost finished all of the work that you were going to do tomorrow. Which meant you would have a clear schedule to stay at practice for the whole day, if you wanted to.

“I’ve got a few more things left, then I’ll be done.” Cirrus looked pleased at that. You knew she was waiting for you to join her. It wasn’t unusual for the ghoulette to sleep with you on the nights you didn’t spend in the ghoul quarters. You also had a feeling this had something to do with Dewdrop stealing you from her arms last night.

Cirrus had already filled you in on what had happened during the second half of the rehearsal. Dew had apparently been even more hyper after his interaction with you, to the point that Copia had needed to tell him off numerous times, apparently more than he usually did.

You still couldn’t believe it, and you could already feel yourself starting to hope. What if he did like you—what if Cirrus was right?

Even though you knew you should probably kill that hope until you had solid evidence, you didn’t have the heart to. It had been so long since you’d felt this way about someone.

Your mind kept wandering to how his hands had felt on your body, the warmth that radiated from him, the way he’d called you dearest in that honey-smooth tone. You were going to see him again tomorrow—and if Cirrus was right then he would be showing off for you.

You were well aware of the types of moves that Dew normally employed—having seen more than enough videos. But that was completely different to seeing it in person, let alone as his targeted audience.

You’d been to rituals hosted at the abbey, but only a few. You’d ended up at the very back for both of them, not wanting to fight the sisters for a closer space. Even with the limited view, you’d still been able to watch and admire the ghouls as they performed. Papa had been excellent as well—but your eyes had been elsewhere.

Namely on the lead guitarist. Dew’s energy had been breathtaking, the way he threw himself into each song, drawing the attention of the crowd and feeding off it. He knew exactly what to do to make the siblings scream. You’d wanted to be apart of that front row so badly—wanted to have his full attention on you as he played.

It seemed you were going to get the wish, if Cirrus was to be believed. It left a small flutter of nerves every time you thought of it.

Cirrus sat up, her head turning toward the door. You watched carefully—you’d picked up on some of the ghoul’s behaviours, Cirrus’s especially. By the way she tilted her head, you could tell that she heard something or someone nearby.

An amused smile slipped onto her lips as she watched the door.

You waved a hand and her masked face turned to you. “Who?” You mouthed, guessing that it was a ghoul that she had heard. Surely it wasn’t him…

Dew, she mouthed back, blowing you a teasing kiss.

Of course it was.

Your head snapped over to the door as it opened, revealing the fire ghoul, who hadn’t even bothered to knock. That was typical Dew though.

His gaze landed on you first—giving you a little nod in greeting—then flicked to Cirrus.

“Hey Dew, is everything okay?” You asked as you watched the ghoul. His hand gripped the door and he stared at the ghoulette behind you as she sent a delicate wave back at him.

“Copia needs to speak with Cirrus,” he answered, leaning on the doorway in a way that had you staring.

“What does Papa need to speak to me about?” Cirrus sounded uninterested.

Dewdrop shrugged. “Go find out.”

“Tell him I’m busy. It can wait until tomorrow.” Cirrus nodded over at you as you tore your eyes off the fire ghoul.

“He said it’s urgent, Cirrus.” Dew’s gaze flipped to you, his voice taking on a smoother tone. “Don’t worry, I can keep them company.”

“You should probably go Cirrus,” you added, trying to ignore the excited trepidation at the thought of spending more time alone with Dewdrop. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Cirrus sighed, standing gracefully. She let her fingers brush lightly over the back of your neck as she walked past.

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” she said as she passed the fire ghoul, giving him a warning look.

“Is it because my company is better than yours?” Dew sounded amused, still leaning against the door.

Cirrus laughed. “Oh please. I’m the favourite, aren’t I sweetheart?” She nodded her head behind Dew as they both awaited your answer.

“I don’t have favourites,” you said hesitantly, watching Cirrus point at herself. “But if I had to choose, Cirrus is better,” you added, slyly looking at Dew. Cirrus made a heart with her hands at your response, while the fire ghoul crossed his arms, scoffing.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Cirrus said with a teasing wink to you. “And you better be finished all that work when I get back.”

You gave her a little wave as she left. Dewdrop took a step into the room, closing the door softly.

It was his first time in your room—only Cirrus and the ghoulettes had been in here, as well as Rain on one occasion. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them here—rather that you spent most of your time in the ghoul quarters that it was practically home now. This room was more of a storage place where you kept all your belongings and work-related items. You only really stayed in it when you needed a break from the chaos—which was very rarely.

Dew seemed to be taking in your room, walking around as he scanned through your items, though there weren’t that many. He lingered at the small shelf housing your favourite books, running a finger delicately across their spines.

After ensuring he wasn’t up to anything that couldn’t be classed as strangely typical ghoul behaviour, you forced your attention back to the screen.

There was one more document left and then you could call it a night, and you’d have an entirely free day tomorrow to admire the fire ghoul. It was harder than it should have been to ignore him though. It was like your eyes were drawn to him, and you had to keep fighting the urge to look back at him.

You were typing the last part of the document when you suddenly became aware of his presence behind you. You stilled, catching his reflection on the screen.

Dew placed his hands on the desk at either side of you, his arms caging you in as he leant over you. His breath touched your right shoulder as he took in the screen.

“Someone’s eager to watch me play tomorrow,” he whispered smugly. You huffed, unlocking your fingers and typing again, furiously telling yourself to calm down.

“From what Cirrus told me, you’re the one who can’t wait to show off. How many times did you get told off by Copia today?”

Dew laughed lowly, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder.

“You’ve been talking about me, dearest sibling?” he muttered, a teasing tone in his voice. “Seems you just can’t get me out of your head.”

“I’m surprised you fit through the door with that ego. Then again, you are pretty short,” you teased back, hearing a quiet hiss in response.

Dew burrowed his face against your shoulder, his hands running along your arms. The movement jostled your hands as you were typing, turning the next word into a jumble of random letters. You quickly pressed the back button, acutely aware of the way his hands glided smoothly over your skin and the weight on your shoulder.

“Do you mind?”

“You don’t smell like me anymore,” he murmured, sounding disappointed.

Ah. So that’s why Cirrus had given you a whole heap of hugs, and why she had been so eager to cuddle tonight, especially after you’d showered earlier. You wondered if it was to reinforce her claim on you, or an attempt to piss Dew off.

“Well I’m trying to type here.”

“Don’t care. This is what you get for calling me fucking short.”

You sighed dramatically, reaching a hand up to push his head away. He grabbed at your arm, pinning it to the desk with a sound of amusement.

You raised an eyebrow at his reflection on the screen.

“Really?” You flexed your trapped hand, trying to loosen his grip. “Let me go little gremlin, I’m trying to finish this work so I can go watch you practise. You know, like you so desperately want me to.”

Dew lifted his head, watching you through the reflection. He was silent for a moment as you held his gaze.

“How much longer until you’re finished?”

“About five minutes. And don’t tell me that’s too long to wait,” you added, well aware that the fire ghoul was known to be exceptionally impatient.

He huffed.

“Fine,” Dew said as he withdrew, trailing his fingers across your shoulders then your neck the way Cirrus had earlier. He lowered his mouth to your ear. “Five minutes.”

You relaxed as he threw himself on your bed, the phantom tingle of his breath on your ear lingering. Five minutes—then what? Was he wanting to sleep here tonight as well? How long was Cirrus going to take?

You mentally cursed the air ghoulette for leaving you in this situation. You hoped she would be back soon—although you were definitely enjoying Dew’s attention. Maybe he really did...

You would think about that later.

It was silent for a few minutes, the tapping of your keys the only sound. You resisted the urge to check what the ghoul was up to—once you did you knew he would try to distract you again, and you only had two more minutes.

“Has Cirrus been sending you more porn?” You startled, twisting your head to see he was holding your phone. Fuck.

“No she has not.” You tensed—you knew he shouldn’t be able to get into your phone, but you still felt a small fear curling in your stomach at the thought of him somehow seeing your conversations with Cirrus. The ones that were mostly about him.

“Then what has she been sending you?” He mocked a gasp. “Not her own videos?”

You stood, closing your laptop. It’s not like you were going to get anything else done anyway.

“Give me my phone back Dewdrop.”

He twisted around so he could see you, the balaclava under his mask slipping enough to give you a glimpse of a toothy smile.

“Make me.”

You narrowed your eyes, taking in the ghoul on your bed. He stared back at you, lifting his chin slightly in a challenge.

At that moment, the door opened, Cirrus returning from her meeting with Papa.

She glanced between the two of you, bracing her hands on her hips. You shot her a look of relief, gesturing towards Dewdrop.

“Can you help me with this?”

Dew snorted, rolling onto his stomach to face you, the phone still in his hands as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Told you my company was better,” he said to Cirrus.

“I can see that.” The ghoulette sounded amused. “Now get out of my spot or I’ll tell Mountain it was you who broke his drums last week.”

Dew scowled back. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Cirrus tilted her head, a knowing smile breaking across her lips.

“It would be very unfortunate if Sister Imperator was to also somehow find out about what you did to that shelf of rare books in the library—“

“Fucking okay!” Dew sighed, languidly stretching before rolling reluctantly off the bed.

You watched as he stepped around the bed, wondering just how much blackmail Cirrus had on each of the ghouls. Maybe she was on to something—you made a mental note to hold on to any future information.

Dew stopped in front of you, holding out your phone. You hesitantly reached out for it, expecting a trick of some sort.

Instead, he let you take it, although he made sure to brush his fingers against yours.

“See you at rehearsals tomorrow.” He leaned in, whispering cockily. “I know you won’t be able to take your eyes off me.”

You gave him a small smirk, though your heart was racing. “We’ll see.”

He hummed in response, before Cirrus grabbed him by the arm and pushed him out of the room. She shut the door, cutting him off mid-curse.

You raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“Don’t tell me you wanted him to stay,” she said, mocking disbelief with a hand to her chest. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“And if I did?” A smile ghosted your lips at the thought of Dew staying—but you also needed to actually sleep, and that wasn’t going to happen with him around.

Cirrus sighed, shaking her head. “Do you believe me now? You definitely have a chance with him.”

You felt red creeping across your cheeks. You really were starting to think that it was possible, but a part of you still held back a little. Before your thoughts could begin to drown you, Cirrus grabbed your hand and pulled you down towards the bed. You flipped your phone onto the bedside table—those videos could wait until the morning.

Cirrus pulled you in close, nuzzling into your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her. She flicked off the light with her tail, plunging the room into darkness.

“What did Copia want?” You asked quietly as the two of you settled into a comfortable position.

“He wanted to check everything still fit for the upcoming performances, and that there weren’t any adjustments that needed to be made last minute.”

You nodded against her shoulder. That sounded like Copia—he was always remembering something he had forgotten right at the last minute. You thought fittings would have been sorted a few weeks ago.

“Annnd,” Cirrus dragged out the word, a hint of excitement in her voice, “we’re all getting capes.”

Capes? “No way. That’s going to be awesome!”

She hummed in agreement. “They look fabulous too.” You chuckled.

“I’m sure you’ll look ravishing.”

“I always do,” she purred. “Everyone else will have one too, even your little fire ghoul.”

Dewdrop with a cape? Fuck, you couldn’t wait to see that. Wait—

“He’s not my little fire ghoul.” You rolled over a little, peering at her through the darkness.

Cirrus laughed quietly, and you scowled.“He’s not.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

#ghost band #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls x reader #dewdrop ghost #cirrus ghoulette #cirrus ghost

112 notes · View notes

impyssadobsessions · 8 months ago

Text

Phoenix Down- Chapter 5 Haunting Lie

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Danny Phantom

Relationship: Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson

Characters: Dick Grayson Danny Fenton Bruce Wayne Batfam - Character Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort Angst Trauma Family Found Family but with a twist will deal with previous trauma Past Rape/Non-con Secret Child Time Travel Art dpxdc Parent Dick Grayson Guns Near Death Experiences

I didn't expect to get this out so soon but I've been in a dick mood <3

Excerpt:

“Danny!” His friends called out to him. Debris kept them from reaching him-weakly he pushed himself up to his knees.

A whirring sound came from in front of him. He couldn't stand up. What kind of hero froze in the face of danger? A bad one. He panted trying to force his body to move. He had to stop that machine before it destroyed everything. Yet, he felt broken. Terrified. He was failing everyone…

His eyes glanced between the faces he recognized around him. His friends, Sam and Tuck, his sister, Jazz, and… his parents. They stood behind a blockade of shields, being forced to stay back by the guys in white suits. He could hear his mother screaming. He gasped for air he didn't need, and clenched tightly at his burning chest. A white ring danced threateningly around his form.

No. This can't be it.

The whining of the machine grew louder. The infinite realms will be in danger. Amity Park will be destroyed. He had to get up. They needed him. Move Danny-

“I'm sorry little brother.”

No.

A bright green filled the room. Green. GREEN. SO MUCH GREEN! He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he couldn't see anything but green. The endless pain. Ringing in his ears. Suffocating and being forced to breathe at same time. Feeling like he was melting alive but freezing to death.

Danny gasped awake, sitting up fast enough to make himself dizzy. He put a hand on his chest, relieved as he felt it thumping. He sunk down in the recliner, taking in his surroundings. His eyes snapping quickly to the only other living person, if he could call himself living, in the room. Dick laid on the couch with his head propped up on a cushion and a cover dragged from his bed draped over him. Besides the few coughs here and there, he slept soundlessly. The teen was a bit envious. Not enough to try and catch a cold himself, but he hadn't been able to rest well since the accident. He pulled his knees close to his chest and rested his cheek on his knees. He fiddled with the blanket he used to cover himself, while he stared out at the living room. He focused on the sound of the ticking cat clock and the warm orange hues casting through the blinds. He was alive. Half-alive. But alive. He had a body with a beating heart. His friends and family were safe. And most importantly, his eyes glanced at the offending cat clock on the wall. He had time. The teen buried his face into his knees with a groan. He just had to figure out what he needed to do in that time. He sniffled. He felt so overwhelmed. Was he doing the right thing? Last time he trusted someone, it didn't end well. But, he needed help. A lot more than he wanted to believe he did. His eyes glanced back at the man that worried himself sick. Danny tighten his grip on his legs. “Everything is as it should be.”Danny closed his eyes at the memory.

Read more on A03

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp crossover #dc crossover #dcxdp #dick grayson #nightwing #secret child #phoenix down #impyelam #fanfic #damian wayne

61 notes · View notes

bakerstreetbasilisk · 1 month ago

Text

NO MORE NIGHTMARES

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms

Relationship: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade

Characters: Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade

Additional Tags: Aug-Kissed 2024, Romance, Fluff, Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings

Written for the Week 4 prompt "Kiss Goodnight" of the Aug-Kissed event hosted by @aug-kissed.

“I’m so sorry Greg. He didn’t make it.”

Greg wakes up startled. Anthea’s voice still rings in his ears, the dread in her face haunts him, seeming so real he has to sit up as reality settles around him. He’s on the bed, under the covers. It’s dark. The clock reads 2.05 AM. And he’s not alone.

Mycroft’s beside him, asleep, his body rises and falls as he breaths. Greg spends some time watching him, making sure that Mycroft’s actually alive and well, that the memory of him stepping through the door and collapsing in Greg’s arms last night was real.

He takes a deep breath, hoping it would slow down his racing heart. He doesn’t want to wake Mycroft; however unlikely it is that he does.

The past few days had been hell. Mycroft had been called out to a conference out of the country. It had been a Saturday, and they’ve had plans for the weekend. Mycroft had apologized for it being a last-minute announcement and for not being able to give more details. Greg had kissed him and had told him more light-heartedly than he’d actually felt, that he’d be forgiven when he came back home to him.

And a week ago, Greg had lost all communication with him. Attempts to reach Anthea were in vain. Alicia had absolutely nothing to give him. And Mycroft had just disappeared off the face of Earth, just like that.

Greg had been on the brink of falling apart and losing it entirely. He’d been advised to wait, that everything that can possibly be done to locate them was being done. Sherlock, he suspected, had done some digging on his own and also had come to the conclusion that all they could do now was wait.

“He’d turn up in a couple of days,” he’d said. “Save the panicking for a later date, Lestrade. He’s had much worse.”

That was it.

Today, out of nowhere, he had gotten a phone call and no more than an hour later, an armful of an exhausted Mycroft.

Mycroft had had promised they’d talk tomorrow- which is basically today, it seems and Greg doesn’t even know what to think. What happened out there? He shudders as a thought he’d desperately tried not to think, briefly crosses his mind. How close was he to losing Mycroft entirely?

Glancing at the sleeping man beside him, Greg is suddenly overwhelmed by the need to touch him, gather him into his arms for the rest of the night because right now, what Greg needs is reassurance. He needs to believe that Mycroft’s safe and home, and that it’s all real.

Just as he decides to lie back down, Mycroft rolls over to face him, just barely awake. His voice is hoarse with sleep when he speaks.

“Nightmare?”

Greg smiles. “I’m alright now, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Instead of replying he beckons Greg to him. Greg lets himself be pulled in under the covers and into Mycroft’s arms. He feels better instantly. The feel of his lover’s warm skin against his lips, the familiar warmth and his very scent is enough comfort to Greg.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Mycroft murmurs, gently running fingers through Greg’s hair. “That was not meant to happen.”

Greg has to push himself away for a while to look into Mycroft’s eyes properly. “Don’t apologize, love. I’m just glad you’re home.” He smiles, more to the benefit of Mycroft’s than his. “Besides, I know what I signed up for.”

Mycroft visibly takes a deep breath. “Greg, you didn’t sign up for that,” he says, sounding a bit more awake now. “I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Well, I did,” Mycroft murmurs. His hand trail down towards Greg’s chest. “More than twenty years ago. But my priorities are different now, you understand. And you are one of them. I will not put my life in danger when I know you’re waiting for me, Greg. I can’t. You are too precious to me.”

Greg stares at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean- did you-”

Mycroft smiles. It’s that little shy smile that Greg loves. “I stepped down… to a certain extent. My duties are mostly desk work now. The past few days were a mistake. A bad case of poor management.”

“You stepped down? For me?”

“For us,” Mycroft says. He looks proud. “For the very same reason you accepted the position as D.C.I., when you so clearly disliked it.”

Greg hauls himself forward and kisses him. He has to. It’s an urgent press of his lips against Mycroft’s, overwhelmed with love and a need to be as close as they physically can.

“I love you,” Greg breathes against his lover’s lips. “I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” And he means it. Every single word of it.

“Mm I know,” Mycroft says, softly. Greg can hear the sleep creeping in to his voice. “I love you too.”

Greg can’t help but smile. He curls an arm around Mycroft’s shoulder allowing Mycroft to nuzzle into his neck.

“Sleep now, darlin’,” Greg says. “I’m gonna call in sick tomorrow. We’ll stay in bed till late, hmm?”

Mycroft burrows in closer. “Mm. You’ve read my mind.”

Greg chuckles and kisses his lover’s forehead. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Greg,” Mycroft whispers, almost asleep. “No more nightmares.”

“No more nightmares.”

It’ll all be better tomorrow.

***

AO3

[Week1] | [Week 2] | [Week 3]

#aug kissed #aug kissed 2024 #mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #fluff #romance #nightmares #cuddling & snuggling #mystrade fanfic #basiliskwrites

23 notes · View notes

eddiediazismyhusband · 5 months ago

Note

authors who won't tag their fics properly PISS ME OFF!!! one time i read a buddie fic where buck had sex "onscreen" multiple times with an OC, and even developed feelings for the OC to the point where he was like, "if eddie didn't exist, I could really fall in love with OC" - and there was no Buck/OMC tag?!?!?! like. wtf?? i don't click on a buddie fic to read about buck screwing some OC the author is in love with?!? i muted that author. also, sorry this seems to be an increasingly controversial take in buddie fandom, but i also get pissed off when people refuse to tag for sexual stuff including Top/Bottom, and even act judge-y in their author's note/comments about people who DO want stuff like that tagged. all like, "It shouldn't matter" "it's not important" - ok if it's not important, then just please take one second to tag it so people can read what they want to read, and avoid what they want to avoid?? now i just mute authors who won't tag sufficiently.

i don’t understand people’s apprehension to tagging what is included in their fics… like i’m not claiming ot be perfect at it myself like im sure ive made mistakes but like i try my best to be as clear about everything as i can be. and i have read similar buddie fics where it feels like eddie/omc are the main ones and they’re played as this sort if “right person wrong time” think but eddie/omc aren’t tagged and im like ?????

if im reading a buddie fic unless i explicitly search for sad/unhappy or hopeful ending that fic better end with them being madly in love with each other as if there is no one else in the world but so many fics have these elements of them almost “settling” for each other snd im like a) how ooc is that, and b) do you even ship them atp???

and i definitely understand your frustration over the position tags for smut fics— personally i don’t care either way when it comes to buddie but there are other ships where i am picky about the kind of smut i read (i can think specifically of an old sterek fic i read that was a slow burn and it ended with one smut scene and it was top!stiles which… yeah that might be some people’s preference but it wasn’t mine and so i had to skip the whole chapter of that fic)

unfortunately i think people just like to bait their tags so that they get more views and it’s like…. there’s nothing wrong with wanting your fic to reach a wide audience, but if you’re writing purely for hits/clout then your already writing for the wrong reasons imo 🤷

#911 abc #911 #911 on abc #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #buddie 911 #buck and eddie #911 buddie #buddie ao3 #ao3 buddie

26 notes · View notes

vampire-exgirlfriend · 5 months ago

Note

So many people say they're being plagarised and offer no proof except all this hearsay. The one time I saw two people actually offer proof @selfproclaimedunicorn dismissed it as their writing and the accused were basically writing the same generic boring mid smut and weren't being plagarised at all or plagiarising. She says they were causing drama over generic expressions. The funny thing was the complainants fic was being recycled in a new fandom by the accused and nobody really took it seriously except a handful of their mutuals. It's you lot who create cliques and fear mongering and this idolatry worshipping writers with huge followings, in time creating your own worst enemies. People with clout somehow in the fandoms always act like corrupt cops. But it's people in the fandom who create it. I've never seen you reblog anyone's work except your friends. I've seen Natasha reblog different people and offer nice comments. But you and your friends don't. And Ange is .... I don't know. Will she be a bullet you dodged? She has a big following end she was part of a group who were unbelievably toxic until she changed (?) People are just awful in this fandom and you know it getting a taste of it yourself here and elsewhere. I've no doubt people whose OCs are overlooked and ignored or whose x readers are not read, their voices are silent and people steal from them voraciously and nobody cares. People friends with the bigger writers close ranks and shut everyone out and everyone else is scrabbling to fit in and be noticed. I can name on one hand writers who write for the fun and not attention or notes. I don't know you and I'm sorry you have suffered this but welcome to our world

honestly, i wasn't going to answer this because so much of it is just fucking stupid.

I know exactly what you're talking about re misa, and you tagged the wrong blog. it wasn't her that said that, it was @julyzaa - and you know what...she wasn't wrong. she was talking about two fics that shared a similar premise. and we both agreed that it wasn't plagiarism. it was just two authors who wrote an aemond smutty one shot with similar vibes. of which there are a million and one fics like that right now. there is an importance in being able to discern the difference.

and i'll just say it, this obsession of constantly bringing up Ange is weird. it's creepy at this point. you're welcome to dislike someone, but it's becoming glaringly obvious that there's individuals in fandom that want to blame an outside person instead of looking at themselves and the company they keep. in my time being Ange's friend, not once have I been bullied/harrassed/intimidated - not even in a joking way. the chatting never turns toxic and the only time we're talking about other people is when shit gets weird on the dash (like it is right now). that's just normal social interaction, babes. we spend most of our time discussing fic and the show and our real lives.

and frankly, i don't know where this idea of 'clique' came from or why it seems this is an accusation that's being thrown around - not just at myself but others. there's no clique. there's no secret club or burn book or whatever you think there is lurking out there where we're concerned. im so confused as to why it's an issue that friend groups crop up and people get close. that's the nature of being mutuals! it's weird to be angry at people for making friendships and taking those friendships offline.

this is my blog and i'm allowed to reblog what I want - as is everyone else. you don't have a solution for whole 'clique' conundrum you seem so concerned with, so I can only assume your answer would be for me to just reblog everything I see, in hopes that your work reaches an audience. and i'm not going to do that. i will reblog the stories and edits that speak to me, that inspire me, that i actually enjoyed. and i've become friends with a lot of those authors, sure. because i put in the effort to get to know them. i stopped posting on tumblr because I got no response when posting my fic. My audience is clearly elsewhere. But it's always 'will you reblog my stuff' but it's never reciprocated, so what's the point in supporting mutuals if the mutual relationship is gone? have you ever reached out to me? have you ever struck up a conversation or attempted to chat about something other than fic? no? then why do you have any expectations of me at all where your fic is concerned? maybe look that the relationships you have formed and you'll have your answer.

24 notes · View notes

thegoodcultist · 6 months ago

Text

I think tumblr communities could be very interesting but also from what I also understand they are also largely redundant?

They're basically subreddits or facebook groups, right? That's cool, I can see why they're adding them, maybe you want a post to only reach a very specific audience like if you're posting about a very specific aspect of a topic that you maybe don't want your regular followers to see (assuming you can post privately to a community and not your blog) or maybe you want a more distinct community around something. But how is that different from posting in tags or starting a side blog?

Like… if you're a hobbyist aquarium builder/keeper and your blog is an aesthetic blog or something else unrelated then that is when you'd post to a community right? But there is ALREADY a community for that and it's called aquablr. You can even follow that tag so that it shows up on your main dash or in your followed tags dash. And if you don't want to flood your followers feed with that, why not a side blog?

Maybe it'd be good if it's being used for a collaborative project like a zine and people can stay more up to date on things. It's hard to tell if this'll actually be any good or if this is just another 'tumblr wants to be every other website' event

either way, please lets continue talking about tumblrs mistreatment of trans women and POC users. Nothings been fixed there. like i know this hasnt really got much to do with the new feature and I'm sorry if it feels like I just tacked it on but I don't want chatter about this to over take the whole Matt Mullenweg & Co situation. It's still very serious.

#tumblr #tumblr community #matt mullenweg #predstrogen #tgc

24 notes · View notes

n0v4t33z · 1 year ago

Text

The Syndicate - Chapter 3: Soft Hearted Criminal

Pairings: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Ateez X Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is a Detective with a promising future in the police department until she's kidnapped by the infamous mafia boss Choi San and from him, she learns the dark secrets her superior has been hiding the whole time so she teams up with him in order to put a stop to it.

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Language, Graphic Violence, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), y/n gets roughed up by Wooyoung like twice , Slow Burn, Fluff sometimes, Work In Progress, Non-Idol AU, Mafia AU, Very suggestive at times, y/n cries alot, y/n having inner turmoil, Ateez being bad boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang are a little mean in this story tbh, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Assassination attempt(s) ,mentions death and acts of violence

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note 💌 : I was supposed to post this in the beginning of August but I ended up getting a little impatient so I'm posting it now lol so I hope you guys enjoy this chapter despite how slow it is, I promise the really good chapters are coming soon! -N

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

The next day after mindlessly sitting there bored out of my mind I hear a light knock on the door only to see Seonghwa quietly opening the door. He gives me a small smile and mouths the words “Hey” Funnily enough I’m happy to see a criminal keep his word and not lie for once but it also doesn’t mean that I’m completely fond of the guy. Although I guess I can say so far from what he’s shown me I can mildly trust him enough to want to see him again just so I don’t get bored. “You kept your promise..” He presses his finger on his lips and says in a low voice “I told you I’d be back. I came here for a bit because I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I dryly laugh “Oh wow I- Yeah. I’m alright, a bit sore but I’m fine.” He looks at the ground for a few seconds then his gaze meets mine with a small friendly smile “So I brought you a book, I don’t know if you like to read or not but I thought maybe you’d want something to read while you’re here.” He reaches into his jacket and hands me a book, the title being “Dracula”. A smile grows onto my features admiring the cover of the book and back at Seonghwa “Thank you, I was being driven insane in here not having anything to do.” He lowers his voice “When you’re done just let me know and I can bring you another one.” He glances down at his phone looking at the time then he looks back at me slightly disappointed “I have to go now, I’m sorry it was too fast. Maybe next time I’ll be here a little while longer I don’t want San to-” There's a sudden knock at the door in which Seonghwa and I look at each other in shock. “Detective-” San enters the room and looks at both of us then back at Seonghwa “Uh? Aren’t you supposed to be out?” Seonghwa hurriedly gets up “Oh yes, my apologies I was just here dropping a book off for the Detective. She seemed bored so I thought maybe she’d like something to read.” He hums and walks over towards Seonghwa gently patting his shoulder “Make sure not to forget about the other person I told you about.” San glances at Seonghwa with a knowing glance. What was that about? Then again I don’t expect them to tell me anything, I am the prisoner here anyway. Seonghwa gets up and nods “No worries I haven’t forgotten I’ll let you know what I find..” Seonghwa looks at me with a half smile and exits the room leaving San and I alone.

“Good afternoon Detective, are you doing okay?” I shrug “I guess, I’m just sore. Jongho came by earlier this morning to give me some pain killers so I’m okay right now.” San fixes one of his rolled up sleeves. “That’s great to hear that you’re being taken care of.“ I stare at my lap not wanting to meet San’s eyes “It would be nicer if I could be let go.” San chuckles “Sorry Detective, but I can’t. Not until that issue with your superior is fixed” Of course he can’t, his revenge is his priority. “So you’re forcing me to stay just because you say so? What? Do you want me to get to know you or something too?” He shrugs “I don’t know about that, but if I'm being honest I think you know far more about me than I even know about myself.” I scoff ”That’s not true.” San lifts my chin up and looks me in the eye walking up dangerously close in front of me “You think I didn’t read all your reports and the file you have on me? You specifically stated my height and the previous homes that my family and I have lived in, including the ones before my dad became wealthy. Not many people know about my childhood home, the very detailed reports on the crime scenes I’ve been involved in just tells me that you dedicated most of your time investigating me.” Okay, I have a hard copy of his file on hand but I totally forgot I also have one in the database too just in case. Fuck, so that’s how he read it. I turn my face away and grumble ”I’m just doing my job, it’s not because you’re interesting or anything.” He chuckles “i see, well your obsession with me says otherwise.” I snap my head in his direction and raise my eyebrow “Excuse me? My only obsession is to put you in jail.” He smiles and leans in a few inches away from me “If you think you can do it, go for it. From where you’re sitting though I’d like to see you try.” I glare at him and swing my handcuffed fists at him, and without any struggle he catches my fists in mid air with his hand “If you want to hurt me you might want to be a little faster than that.” His gaze going from an amused one to a darker expression. Did I really forget who this man is? Choi San, the man wrecking havoc not only here in Ulwood but in my life as of now. The man who gets to choose what my fate is and here I am trying to hit him. So smart y/n.

I nervously swallow and lower my fists onto my lap “I-I’m sorry.” He lets out an exasperated sigh and runs his hand through his dark hair “How about we start over?” I awkwardly force a smile “Oh, uh okay.” What is wrong with me?! If I piss him off the only way I'm getting out of here is dead. “That doesn’t mean to be awkward, just be yourself.” How am I supposed to be myself when I’m literally in fear of whether or not he’s going to do something to me? Gosh, I’m going to have to just play along. I awkwardly lean back onto the headboard behind me “Fine. Why are you getting so comfortable?” San sits next to me and gives me a dimpled smile “Why not?” I nervously laugh “I mean I’m sorry but seeing you get so comfortable on my bed is just off putting.” I fidget with the chain on my handcuffs feeling the coolness of the metal between my fingers. San responds “You’re right, I guess it is kind of weird for a cop to see the criminal they’re after’s humanity.” The humanity in San? You’d think the man lost that long ago seeing his file. “Yeah, but I guess we can both learn from each other.” I force a smile and continue “So, um, What about your role model? Do you have one?” He glances at me amusingly “Wow detective these questions- Do you usually talk to people like this or?” Unable to cross my arms because of the handcuffs I roll my eyes “You literally kidnapped me, how am I supposed to talk to you like I'm not your whole ass prisoner?” San scoots closer towards me “I make you nervous don’t I?” There he goes again acting like that. “What? No, you just annoy me.” He looks deep into my eyes smirking, my ears and cheeks feeling very warm “ Hm, I don’t? Then why are your cheeks bright red?” He asks with a hint of playfulness in his voice. I thickly swallow and shake my head “No reason, it’s just really warm in here.” He chuckles “Oh, is it?”

He reaches over and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear “You’re very pretty Detective.” His cat like eyes turn into crescents when he smiles causing my heart to begin to race “Thank you” I respond trying to pass off unaffected by his charm but utterly failing. He gently brushes his fingers against the bruise left on my cheek making me slightly pull away. He gives me a slightly sad expression and sighs “I wish things would have turned out different and I didn’t have to resort to this type of thing.” Nervously I reach over to gently set my hand on his forearm, as annoying as he is now's my chance. “You know you can stop this right? Just let me go and I will see everything you need to be taken care of will happen, I’ll make sure to have the charges against you dropped.” He looks down at my hand holding his arm then looks back at me “No, I just wish it wasn’t you who has to go through this but unfortunately your partner wasn’t enough to bring Lee's attention or it would have been him who would have been taken.” I blink slightly taken aback and he continues “So, I’m sorry Detective. I just have to do this for my father because as an answer to your question from earlier, my father is my role model.. I know he probably wouldn’t have agreed with how I’m handling it but to me it’s what makes sense considering that bastard’s lack of loyalty towards my father. ” He’s crazy, but unfortunately I understand where he’s coming from. “I get it, but don’t you think he’ll be humiliated even more if he gets arrested? I’d like to add that in prison he’ll be a constant target because he’s a former cop.” San smiles “I’ll think about it” He’s lying, he’s just trying to change the subject.

“You know, I don’t know you on a personal level despite how much I know about you on file but what I do know is right now your hand is being forced. I know you don’t want to do any of this.” Maybe playing good cop as much as I can will help. He looks at the ground almost like he’s lost in thought “Yeah, something like that but not quite.” I lean in a little closer in hopes he hears me a little better “So tell me, is the Choi San you show the world the same one at home with his family, or is he different?” He glances up at me meeting my eyes “Actually, he’s different. I’ll go as far to admit that I have several versions of myself. How the world around me sees me, how my family and those closest to me see me, and lastly how I truly am.” I’m not surprised but that’s honestly sad. He probably had big shoes to fill when he took over for his father. “I see, so who is the true Choi San then? Is he kind?” Let’s see if I can get him to open up a little more. He nods “He is actually. I’m just normal, I’m nothing special. I only took over because I had to, Wooyoung suggested it would be good for my character since he thought I was too nice sometimes. Unfortunately after I took over I was not only under my family’s pressure but also under our allies’ pressure to continue to be just as equally harsh if not more than my father. I knew from the moment I took over that handling things peacefully was no longer an option out fear that my lack of experience would make them think they could just walk all over me.” I can tell he’s holding back, he doesn’t want to just say it. I can see why it would be hard for him to admit. “So what you’re saying is that the reason your crimes are so violent and harsh is because you’re under inmense pressure by the people who surround you to be more like your father, not because you want to right?” Gosh, I just feel so bad for him. That must be a heavy burden to carry all by himself. “Yes, kind of.” I press my lips into a smile “Well, just know you can always talk to me as long as I’m here. I’ll listen to you, I know it seems ironic with me being a cop and all but I guess since I’m here it doesn’t really count since I can’t really do anything..” He reaches over and removes my handcuffs “You’re right, you’re just a normal girl behind that detective facade you put up.” I get up and stretch my arms and legs “And you’re a regular guy hiding behind the mask of an evil mafia kingpin” He smirks “You’re very poetic Detective.”

He reaches over for my hand and pulls me to sit down again only he doesn’t let go of my hand and just holds it “You know, I don’t think I was supposed to you all of that.” I shake my head “Don’t worry, I’m not going to use anything against you if that’s what you’re thinking.” He lets go of my hand and slightly narrows his eyes “Okay, so how do you do it?” I furrow my brows “Uh, what do you mean? Do what?” Is he catching on? Oh gosh “You know, get people to feel so comfortable around you. Is that a cop technique or something?” It's not what I thought he was going to ask but what a relief. “Honestly I just treat people like humans, that’s it there's really no trick there.” From the corner of my eyes I notice him intently watching me and as much as I don't want to admit this, looking at his general direction is making me really shy, I feel like I shouldn't be looking at him "You are very sweet considering the type of situation you're in." I dryly laugh "You know being mean won't do me any favors and the last thing I want is for me to have to deal with Wooyoung or worse, a pissed off San. So I'd rather not." He chuckles, why is he looking at me like that? He's supposed to be my enemy why is it making me feel this way. “ Didn't you just now try to beat me with your fists and you say I'm the scary one?" I roll my eyes playfully while gently patting his shoulder "Yeah, well I'm not the criminal here sir." He blinks " What? So am I really that scary?” I nod letting out a nervous laugh “Yeah, most of my colleagues would always tell me how they’d be terrified if they ever had to face you.” San’s tongue touches the inside of his cheek looking a bit satisfied “Ah, so does that include you?” I press my lips into a straight line and I shrug “As long as you’re not pissed.” He gives me a dimpled smile and reaches over to pat my head “You don’t need to worry about that then, I really like talking to you so I doubt you’ll ever piss me off enough for me to react like that.” So as long as I’m good or Captain Lee doesn’t fuck everything up then I should be good. Stay on his good side. He lays down patting next to him “Lay with me” I thickly swallow “Um, may I ask why?” He pulls my hand enough to lay me down next to him “No reason, I’ve just heard people have really nice conversations like this.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye “I promise nothing will happen, I won’t touch you if that’s what you’re wondering. I just want to be San for a bit and have a conversation with someone.” I nod “Okay, fair enough” I lay back and turn to him only to realize he was already looking at me a little different than when we first met. Almost like his gaze soften up. I’m hoping being nice to him keeps me in good graces with him so that I can eventually leave this place.

So I think it’s been a month or so since at this point I’ve lost my sense of time. San, Jongho, and Seonghwa are mostly the people I talk to, especially San. He comes in at least a few times everyday to talk and hang out. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that some dark twisted part of me actually thinks he’s kind of cute or at least his more human side of him. Everyone else still kind of scares me especially Wooyoung so I barely say anything to the rest of them and usually staying silent when they enter the room. I'd also be lying if I didn't admit San and I started flirting a little? Okay, more like banter but it leads to the same thing, feelings. Although I'm still not sure if he actually means it or if he's just messing with me to get me to open up. Knowing him, I won't be surprised if he pulls a fast one on me because of his reputation and is just messing with me because he thinks it's a joke.

I sit in bed and I look at the empty dark gray wall grumbling under my breath “I have no idea what’s happening, I just want to leave. It’s been like a month and I already feel like I'm losing it being stuck in here.” I hug myself and bury my face in my knees and I silently begin to tear up from the overwhelming feeling of being homesick. I hate Captain Lee for being so selfish, I’m the one having to go through so much from almost getting my chest caved in to being threatened while he’s back at the station thinking that he’s lucky not having to be in my position and having the whole police force protect him. I really hope he makes the right decision or I won't forgive him for it.

About an hour goes by of me on and off crying ends up with me laying down silently staring at the door until I hear the door unlock. I expected someone else other than San but to my pleasant surprise it was him. Right as he comes in I notice how eerily silent he was, did something happen? HE 's acting quite different than normal. He sets down the food and sits next to me “Hey, I talked to Lee on the phone earlier but I have bad news.” He uncuffs me and holds both my hands giving me an expression with sadness in his eyes, seeing his face like that made my stomach drop. This is not going to be good. He lets out a long sigh and says “He isn’t going to expose himself and he’d rather have you turn up dead than renounce.” I feel nauseous.

I fucking knew it. I ball up my fists and instantaneously my eyes well up with tears making my vision blurry. I get up beginning to pace back and forth, my body feeling like I needed to walk out the anxiousness and anger “That fucking bastard… Now I have to die all because he wants to keep his dirty work under wraps.” I slam my fists onto the surprisingly hard wall completely ignoring the wave of pain going through my hands and wrists. “He fucking promised to get me out of here!!” I turn my back to the wall and slowly fall to the floor crying my eyes out. San walks over to me and sits on the floor next to me and holds my hand gently stroking my shoulder "Look, you’re not going to die." He pauses for a bit almost like he was gathering his thoughts a little. "We’ll make him think you are but you’ll be okay I promise.” I look at San with my eyes still glistening from my tears “What caused you to change your mind about me dying?” He shrugs then lifts up my hand up to his lips and gently kisses my hand. “ Well I was never intending to kill you. I was thinking and I came to the conclusion that yes, I could have easily killed you but those eyes of yours-" He pauses again almost like he was psyching himself up to finish the sentence he started "Those eyes, they made me so weak that evreytime you look at me it makes me really nervous. Almost like if I couldn’t see them anymore I wouldn’t forgive myself." He reaches over and gently squeezes my thigh "Besides, every time I’d come over and hang out with you I'd leave feeling so happy. So happy, that for those few hours I'm with you everything seems perfect.”

My heart isn’t beating faster, my heart isn’t beating faster, I swear it isn’t, I need to get ahold of myself. I look over at his perfectly chiseled face and I notice something I never really did before and it was that gaze that gave away exactly how he felt, the way his gaze lovingly connected to mine without hesitation made my heart race like I ran a marathon. I wrap any arms around San’s waist while I rest my head on his chest “Thank you, I promise to help avenge your father’s death and I'll also make sure to give you back what belongs to you. I owe you.” He looks down at me, pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear and gently strokes my cheek “No, you don’t owe me anything. The last thing I want is for you to think you do. I just don't want you to get hurt because of me.” I shake my head and I grab San’s hand “Look, I was wrong about you. I admit in the beginning I hated you, then after you told me what happened with your dad I sympathized with you but now that it’s been like a month since I’ve been here and that I've gotten to know you a lot more, I admire you. Even if I’m still scared of the type of job you have I've realized we’re not that different, we both have dangerous jobs and for the both of us we both lost someone due to tragedy. You, your dad and me, my grandfather.” I gently stroke San’s hand with my thumb.

“I know that deep down you’re not evil, you’re just working with what life has given you and I won’t judge you for it. I just want to let you know that I'll be here to help, I won’t just stand here and let Captain Lee get away with everything he’s done and not be punished for his actions. Nothing is going to happen to me, if anything now you’ll have knowledge on the police and their tactics and I know for a fact you won’t turn that down.” I give San a small smile then he looks at me and gently rubs his thumb on my cheek “Hm, you’re right I can’t turn that down but I also have something I want to ask you that I hope you don’t turn down either.” Is he going to let me leave? Maybe he feels bad now? “Yes, of course what is it?” San looks deeply into my eyes for a few seconds without saying anything, and slowly he gently tilts my head to look up at him. “Will you be mine?”

Hey, what? Woah. I mean I like him. But should I do it? Will being with him help me or will it seal my fate? Does that mean I can come and go as I please? Maybe that'll help me be trusted a lot more. It's the only chance I've got now. I nod and gently kiss his hand while I hold his hand onto my face “I would love to.” He slowly leans in to kiss me then he pulls back and gently caresses my bottom lip with his thumb “People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, someone so caring and understanding. So I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have someone like you.” It actually happened. Me, a former detective is now dating the Boss of the mob group I used to investigate. What a weird turn of events. I can't be too vulnerable though, despite how I'm feeling at the moment I have to remember all his crimes and that with one false move I could end up with them, another name added to the list of corpses Choi San has accumulated on his file. So as twisted as this is it may work in my favor so I can escape.

I lovingly stare into his beautiful dark eyes “I honestly never thought we’d end up together either, but here you are confessing to me. It seems so surreal.” For a few minutes we sit there in silence in each other's arms until San’s radio goes off with Yeosang saying “San, Ito’s replacement is here he wants to talk.” He slightly rolls his eyes in frustration and presses the button on his radio and says “I’ll be there in a bit.” He gets up and then helps me up and sits me down on the bed then he says “I have to go, but I trust you okay? No more handcuffs.” He kisses my forehead and walks over to the door closing the door behind him. Once he's gone I look at my hands and smile “I’m free.” The next step is to make Steven Lee regret he ever threw me under the bus like that, my mother and all my loved ones will suffer over the loss of Detective Y/N but it won't be in vain. I’d rather have everyone I love think I’m dead than for them to know and live with the guilt of knowing that I no longer serve The System. Jongho, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and San were right. Criminals do have their own reasons as to why they do the things they do. Sadly the easiest and most satisfying way to solve problems is not always the correct way.

“Hey, angel eyes get dressed you’re going to be properly introduced to everyone, the thing is though they don’t know we’re together yet. We have to wait a little longer for that. I just don’t want them to think anything that’s not true.” He walks up to me and hands me a shopping bag full of clothes. “Don’t worry, I understand. You don’t want them to assume we fucked and that’s why I was left alive.” I get up and I walk towards the bathroom, slightly flustered he pushes his glasses up with his middle finger “Uh yeah, that and I kind of never told them that I wasn't ever planning on killing you mostly because I knew there was going to be issues and no one would want to cooperate properly.” I shrug and open the door to the bathroom “Kinda fucked up but, fair enough.” I wonder how much he keeps from them, how much of a front he puts up around them. It's kind of sad now that I think about it. The poor man can never fully be himself and only carefully curated versions of him to help fit a narrative of his choice.

A few minutes later I step out of the bathroom in an all black ensemble some black jeans, a nice plain black top, a leather jacket, and my black high heeled pumps. “You know I look a little dead with these eye bags under my eyes” San walks up to me pulls me close and gently kisses my forehead “You look beautiful to me, angel eyes." He pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear and continues "Besides meeting the guys today we’re also going to go over how we’re going to help you fake your death.” I fix San’s collar holding back a huge smile. “Alright, sounds like a plan.”

San and I walk down the hallway in to a huge conference room except it was more chaotic, maps, notes, and a bunch of other papers sprawled out across the big table. There were also pictures of dozens of people presumably enemies and other rival mafia members. While I look at the pictures a few in particular catch my eye. That’s me, that’s me leaving the station with Chris a week before I was abducted. They followed me everywhere and I had no idea. How did I not notice? Whoever took those pictures was so close, kind of creepy.

I notice all seven of the members in San’s inner circle were here. I’d be lying if I say I'm not scared, because any screw up and I could seriously end up dead in a trash bin. They're all very intimidating just like San himself. San clears his throat “So, i’m sure you guys know the Detective and I've brought her here today because from now on she’s going to be working for me.” Wooyoung and Yeosang give San a surprised face mixed with disappointment. Wooyoung shifts his gaze towards me and glares at me coldly “Why? We literally kidnapped her a month ago. I don’t even think we should even be trusting a cop especially after what happened.” San raises his hand to quiet down Wooyoung and says “You’re right, but Seonghwa, Jongho, Hongjoong and myself have talked to her and she’s reliable. Not to mention she now has a personal vendetta against Lee, so she’s definitely on our side now.” Mingi then says “Okay, what can she do? How does she serve us any purpose besides a pretty face? I know she’s a cop and all but if I'm being honest cops haven’t been very impressive these days and neither was she when we kidnapped her.” Before San could talk I say “Well, besides a pretty face I was trained in both long and short range shooting, and I have a few access codes and I know my way around the police databases. Oh, and about you being able to abduct me In my defense my little detective brain short circuited.” San looks over at Mingi who looked slightly annoyed at the sarcasm tinged answer “There you go questions answered, anyone else?” Everyone stays silent then San smiles “Alright good, so please treat her well she’s one of us now."

Wooyoung whispers something into Yeosang's ear while San continues "Okay, now we’re going to be discussing how we’re going to fake the Detective’s death.” Hongjoong says “You’re really going the extra mile with that aren’t you? Can't she just pass off as a missing person?” San shakes his head “No, because if she does that the police will still consider her alive thus bringing a lot more attention to her trying to find her and since she works for us now we can’t have that. We need to get a little more creative.” After a few hours of careful and meticulous planning a way to fake my death we come up with a solution but it wasn’t one I was too comfortable with and it was taking someone that closely resembles me, remove any identifying features, burn them until they’re unrecognizable, switch my dental records with the deceased and plant my police badge on the body. Sounds easy but unfortunately I know it's not going to be, for anyone, not for the person in place of me, the Aurora syndicate's goons, and myself included. Being on the dark side of justice is not easy, but I owe San for letting me live and I need to teach Captain Lee a lesson for betraying his oath to protect and serve his department. Not to mention he let one of his own to "die" in order to save himself the embarrassment of having to resign as a traitor. Most call it revenge but I call it making it even.

After the meeting, San goes over to his office to get things in order for the plan leaving me to hang out with Seonghwa at the lounge downstairs. “So, you’re staying here?” Seonghwa asks while he takes a sip of some tea that he prepared. I shrug and cross my arms in front of my chest “Yeah San kind of changed his mind after he told me that Captain Lee was going to refuse to come clean. I felt so hurt that I basically told him that Captain Lee and the department were dead to me.” He slowly stirs his tea then he says “Wow so you’re willing to drop your department just like that? Just so you know you won’t ever have to worry about us betraying you, we’re like a family here. Although it’s still a bit off putting having you not be in total isolation and not being in handcuffs.” I rest my head on the lounge's couch arm rest while drawing shapes on it out of habit " Well yeah, I kind of have to at this point. My decision tells you a lot about me. I drop traitors like that with no remorse.”

Seonghwa and I chuckle until I hear footsteps and notice a tall dark haired male extend his hand in my direction “Hello Detective y/ln, sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Yunho by the way, we didn’t meet properly prior to the meeting earlier but it’s very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand examining the very tall man before me from the meeting earlier but it’s very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand examining the very tall man before me. He definitely didn’t look like the type of person to be involved in things like this so to say that I’m shocked is an understatement. “Thank you, It’s very nice meeting you too.” He pulls up a chair and sits in front us then says “Detective, did you know that you’re all over the news? They still think Lee is trying to find you, I’m sure they haven’t told the press the whole story yet.” Feeling my hands get cold I tuck my hands under my thighs “Yeah, I don't think they ever will but just wait until they find “my dead body” I’m sure Captain Lee is going to make up some stupid excuse as to why I ended up dead” Seonghwa furrows his eyebrows “So are you going to go completely incognito and leave your past life behind?”

I let out a long sigh and look at the fake Monet painting behind Seonghwa, and with an expressionless face I respond “Yeah, I have to. I’d rather have my family think I died not being a horrible person than know I gave in to the temptation of taking matters into my own hands. without the assistance of the law.” Yunho looks at me with a saddened and serious expression clouding over his features “You’re a former cop we all understand, I’m sure your family never expected this from you. Sometimes to protect what we love the most we have to hide the truth.” I lower my gaze and i nod “Yeah, which is also why I think it’s best you guys call me just y/n since I'm no longer a detective.” They both nod then sipping on his tea carefully Seonghwa says “If that makes you comfortable then go ahead. Don’t worry.” He reaches over to me with his free hand and pats my head continuing his thought "It's also really nice just having you with us." Yunho gives me a warm smile and adds onto Seonghwa's sentiment "Thank you for choosing not to go against us, we really do need your kind of help especially with San's goal of getting rid of Lee. It'll be a nightmare that'll soon end." I press my lips into a small smile "Any person who's got the same enemy in common as I is considered an ally in my book despite the initial differences." Seonghwa nods "I'm glad to know we can count on you, despite how some people might feel about it." Is he referring about the rest of the guys? More specifically Wooyoung? "It's fine, I understand where that fear of them trusting a cop comes from. I'll do my best to show them they can trust me." I'll probably look like a fool trying though, they seem like a very tough crowd to please.

Seonghwa, and Yunho decide to take me downstairs to the basement where Hongjoong was, the same place I was taken to talk to Captain Lee. As expected, as soon as he sees Yunho, Seonghwa and I he groans “What are you guys doing here?” Both Yunho and Seonghwa look at each other then Seonghwa replies with “We figured we’d bring Y/N to come help you with the police databases, Me and Yunho were talking to Y/N how it’s nice to have someone so versatile with us.” Hongjoong stares at me for a few seconds then says “Okay fine, but she can’t touch a computer yet until she proves herself.” I smile and raise my right hand and say “I will after my funeral ceremony I promise.” His eyebrow slightly raises and he says “Don’t promise anything, actions speak louder than words.” Seonghwa gently squeezes Hongjoong’s shoulder and says in a low voice “Come on, San doesn’t just trust anyone remember that.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes and groans “Right.” Seonghwa looks over at me and says in a very stern tone “Please, don’t betray our trust.” He then gives me a half hearted smile and leaves with Yunho leaving me with this grouchy computer genius.

Hongjoong pulls a chair over next to him and pats it “Sit, I need you to guide me with some passcodes, just use my laptop at least there I can keep track of everything you do.” He pulls his laptop out of his backpack and passes me a laptop heavily covered in stickers. A small smile grows onto my features “You like Spongebob too huh?” Concentrated into his work and not removing his focused gaze from the screen he says “Huh? Yeah why?" I shrug opening the laptop “Just asking, I like that show too.” Too weary to continue the conversation he says “Cool.” I slightly roll my eyes. Okay Rude. I begin to work on accessing all the police databases and private records. A few minutes later I successfully finish and I tap Hongjoong’s shoulder “I’m done.” He looks at the screen then at me and clicks his tongue “Oh, wow. Thank you Detective.” I smile “No problem, and just call me y/n. I’m technically not a detective anymore.” He smiles and nods “Okay, I’ll keep that noted, do you mind if I see this?” I nod and he takes the laptop from in front of me. For several minutes I see him reading and looking very concentrated reading whatever he searched up. I suddenly hear the door opening and when I look up I realize It’s Mingi and Wooyoung, neither looked too pleased to see me.

I sigh knowing there was a slight tension not just with Wooyoung and Mingi. I tried to not think about that feeling of self awareness that I was in a building full of people who can just as easily take my life just as easily as they spared it. Don’t get me wrong I like San, but no doubt he still scares me when I remember all the crimes he’s committed. The detective in me doesn’t seem to want to die. “We got the girl Hongjoong, is San done?” My stomach drops as soon as I heard Wooyoung say it in such a nonchalant way. I sit there still unable to process the fact that this will be the first crime I’ll be committing not directly but It doesn’t feel right especially knowing an innocent woman has to suffer, but despite that my I still feel very strongly at getting Captain Lee back, not just that but this is the life I willingly accepted when I accepted to be San’s girlfriend and vowed to get back at that old coward even if it's only temporary.

Still preoccupied, Hongjoong shakes his head and says “No, still up there but I’ll tell him when he’s done. You go ahead and handle that woman, keep her quiet.” Wooyoung and Mingi leave their backpacks on the floor then both walk back upstairs while they talk amongst eachother. I really don’t want to know what’s going to happen to that girl before they probably kill her. No doubt she’ll be receiving the same treatment from Wooyoung as I did when I first got here. It luckily ended early but I don't think I would have survived if I had the full experience. Hongjoong nudges my arm and I’m immediately brought back to reality. I turn to him completely playing off that I wasn’t just sitting there in shock “Hey, these files of all the police reports that Lee did back when he started out are behind an access code do you know it? I sit there for a minute trying to remember it then quickly type the access code in the little white box. Once access was granted Hongjoong takes his laptop back and looks like he’s reading through some stuff. The rest of the time I was there I was sorting out all the files we seized from the server with Hongjoong while my brain in the background kept replaying Wooyoung's "little mistake" as he likes to call it. Seeing Wooyoung so nonchalant about this whole situation knowing he's going to kill that poor girl just unsettles me. Reliving every. Single. Blow. Over. And. Over.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

If you would like to be on the taglist DM me or leave a comment!✨

Tag List: @cromerteez @thanxx1117 @kisaane-not @atinyreads @hxneebxbee @itsvxlentine @ahhhhhhhhhghh @atinytinaa @atinyluv238 @damagelove @altgojo @steviesbergthuis @yourfatherlucifer

Please Reblog if you like it! 🔁

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#ateez series #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #mafia au #choi jongho #jeong yunho x reader #jung wooyoung #song mingi #kang yeosang #kim hongjoong x reader #kpop imagines #Fic: The Syndicate #non idol au

97 notes · View notes

pamgkrthwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Touched : Chapter 4 : Awkwardness

Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. The following content has themes such as; Awkward Situations, Possible 2nd Hand Embarrassment, Possesiveness, Stalkish Like Behaviour, and others. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 20. (This list may get updated with each new Chapter Update)

Support me on Ko-Fi | Sign Up to the Tag List | Masterlist | AO3 Listing

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Bakugou x F!Reader

Themes: Soulmates, Porn with Plot (This list may get updated with each new chapter update)

Summary: Y/N sets some boundaries for herself and for Bakugou.

Word Count: 3488

Tag List: @tjmaxx556 @cosmicbreathe @lavender99 @optimisticprime3 @dreamcastgirl99 @kenmakai @emmab3mma (Sorry if I have gotten any tags wrong)

A/N: Shout out to Beta Reader Ribbon for being the only beta reader this week. We gave Huntress a break because they do not like Bakugou and yet I force her to read these fics LMFAO. I've come back after a big test and I want to die. This chapter is a bit of a slower one as it's more housekeeping if anything.

When Bakugou said he was going to leave early in the morning, you didn’t think he’d leave at 3 a.m.

Your eyes opened once your body could no longer feel the warmth in the bed. Your eyes landed on Bakugou’s back, seeing old scars from being stabbed through his chest and the scars you gave him the night before.

His perfectly muscular back was soon covered by his shirt, forging the pout on your face and a sad whine.

He looked over his shoulder upon hearing your whine and chuckled. He turned and leaned down to you and kissed your cheek. “Sorry princess, I need to make sure I am ready for work today. I’ll see you then, okay?”

Though you whined, you nodded your head. Bakugou gave you another kiss, though it was longer and sweeter as if he didn’t want to leave either.

He pulled away though, leaving you to watch him leave your room and hear him close the front door behind him.

You grabbed the pillow he had laid on and cuddled it closely to you, breathing in his scent. Your brain felt fuzzy from just being woken up and also the feeling of being addicted to your soulmate already.

You reached out of your bed and grabbed your phone from a pile of clothing so you could put it on charge, but you quickly noticed you had two message notification files. One from your mother asking how you were, and one from him.

Minato Kusumoto (2) Missed Calls Missing my calls? You busy or something? Is it true you are working at Best Jeanist’s Agency? That Saitou chick from the social media department found out this morning Call me once you are free, k?

You mentally cringed. Maybe it was because you were still in the after-glow after fucking your soulmate, but Minato just felt creepy to you now. You dumped him and yet he was still trying and reaching for your attention.

At least he wasn’t calling you by that pet name.

You clicked on his profile and pressed the blocked button, sighing in relief.

Maybe you’ll regret this later when you come back down to your normal self, but in this moment it felt right. It felt so perfectly right.

You opened up your texts with your mother, smiling with glee as you typed.

You Sorry for the late reply. I met my soulmate.

You put your phone down as you plug it into its charger before lying on your back.

You couldn’t stop smiling.

“You can’t just drop that on someone at 3 a.m., Y/N!” Your mother shouted at your mother over the phone.

You had been woken up by your mother calling you. It did force you to get up, have a shower and get ready for work, but it wasn’t a nice way to wake up.

You locked your front door, your bag hanging off your elbow as you held the phone to your ear.

You sighed. “I just thought you’d like to know, mama. Next time I won’t tell you when I meet up with my soulmate.”

You snickered to yourself when you heard a weird construction of noises coming from your mother’s end of the call.

“I have to get going now, mama.” You informed her as you bounced down the stairs. “I have to get to work now.”

“Can you just tell me who it is?” Your mother begged. “At least tell me what he looks like.”

“I met him at work and he is tall.”

“That doesn’t give me anything, Y/N!”

You laughed. “Bye mama!”

You hung up on your mother before making your way to work.

You were going to be yelled at later for that but who cares.

Thankfully, Bakugou was busy most of the day. Off doing his job while you did his. You found a way to schedule Bakugou for only one interview for a month. Sooner or later though you knew the journalists were going to figure out what the plan was and try their best to get Bakugou ticked.

They seemed to love that.

The main thing that kept piling up though was the incident reports coming in. Bakugou hadn’t made an appearance in the office yet and it was 2pm, and yep you were getting new paperwork to file every 10 to 15 minutes because of how much he was doing. From what you heard from some of the other secretaries, it was something he learned during his first year at UA in a Work Study Problem and he wasn’t eager to let it go.

It did mean that the large amount of paperwork coming in was mostly Bakugou’s cases, and because he hadn’t come into the office, you were the one ending up doing all the paperwork. You had to have the news radio playing on all the time just so you knew where his whereabouts were and take some guesses about what incident happened where, when, with whom and what happened.

You had a feeling in your gut that he was coming in soon. No new paperwork had come in for 20 minutes and he hadn’t been mentioned on the radio for 25 minutes. You could tell though he was taking your suggestions from the day before into consideration, actively avoiding the media from what you could tell.

You heard some noise from outside of your office, hearing some heavy footsteps walking closer and closer to your office. You then started to hear an almost whiney voice following the harsh footsteps.

It wasn’t long until you saw Bakugou’s figure walk past the door with two figures walking behind him. They were talking in a line like ducklings.

You could hear them walk into Bakugou’s office and you could hear them talk about something, but their words were mumbled because of the soundproofing on Bakugou’s office walls.

Considering how one of the figures looked to be made out of red, you were going to go out on a wild limb and assume it was Red Riot. The media made it out like they were close friends, even doing cross merch collabs even if they were in different agencies.

Suddenly the door connecting your offices opened and you saw Bakugou’s face poked through.

“Where are the reports?” He asked, his mask was around his neck this time and his skin shined with sweat.

“The three on your desk are the only ones I couldn’t do because of limited information. The rest are already finished.” You answered him.

Bakugou’s brow went into a line. “Really?”

You noticed two heads behind him looking at you. You seemed to be right on the money about one of the figures being Red Riot, but the second seemed to be Charge Bolt.

Bakugou made a sound with his mouth before turning back into his office and closing the door behind him.

“Is that your new secretary ?” Kirishima asked Bakugou, watching Bakugou walk over and sit at his desk.

“She’s rather cute,” Kaminari said with a flirtatious smile on his face. “Is she single-“

“Shut up Dunce Face.” Bakugou glared at Kaminari before looking at your handwriting on the half-filled-out paperwork.

Your handwriting was really neat…

Kirishima and Kaminari exchanged a look before Kirishima started speaking. “So now that you have met your soulmate, when do we get to meet them?”

“Hopefully never if I have anything to say about it.” Bakugou grunted, his eyes not leaving the paperwork.

Kaminari leaned over the table. “You want them all to yourself after everything? Wouldn’t blame ya. If she caught a glimpse of-”

“Kam don’t.” Kirishima warned.

Bakugou glared up at Kaminari, his upper lip snarling up.

It had been like this all day for the two friends. Bakugou seemed to be on edge after meeting his soulmate. The two worried that maybe their first meeting didn’t go well, but Bakugou pushed that concern aside and your two proper interactions as soulmates was more than what he expected.

Kirishima’s eyes scanned Bakugou’s tense body, how he seemed to be on high alert and trying to listen to what was happening outside of the room they were standing in. Said room being soundproofed made it difficult. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Bakugou was missing the company of his soulmate already?

“Can I ask what your soul bond is, Bakugou?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugou gave Kirishima a nasty look, a look that made Kaminari back up. Kirishima stood his ground, not giving Bakugou the satisfaction of ‘winning’.

Bakugou sighed in an annoyed tone before leaning back in his chair, looking off to the side in embarrassment. “I don’t talk about it for a reason.”

“It’s one of those feeling the same things one, right?” Kaminari asked as he sat down on the couch in Bakugou’s office.

Bakugou scoffs. Of all the people to remember that drunken confession from almost 2 years ago.

It happened after your first time, Bakugou felt so betrayed by you going against your two’s soul bond and sleeping with someone else that he couldn’t function like he used to for a short time. He had erectile dysfunction for a few months, was physically ill for two days, and had become more angry. That’s not even adding that he’d be sick after you had sex for the following months.

His friends noticed, his parents noticed, the public noticed, his therapist noticed. His friends thought maybe taking him out to drink would cheer him up, and after a few hours he finally opened up and said ‘I can feel her through the soul bond, and it’s the worst’.

That's all it took for his friends to understand why he was upset. He felt something because of the soul bond, and whatever he felt was impacting his day-to-day life. Suddenly his friends were coming over a lot more either to play games, to have a meal, or to go hiking with him. It took his mind off of it for long enough until his therapist said something that helped more than anything else.

“The downside of having soulmates is that we know our person is out there and is the perfect person for us. People have often romanticised love, being loved and being in love that when someone hasn’t met their soulmate as young compared to the people around them, they become very lonely people. Maybe even isolated. Your soulmate probably just wanted to be loved, so please don’t take it as a betrayal.”

His therapist’s words rang through his head once again, his eyes sliding over to the shared door between your two offices.

You’ve just broken up with your boyfriend for cheating on you but you didn’t want him or anyone else to know it was about the cheating. You moved across the country to a whole different Prefecture for a new job to use that as your reason to break things off. Was nothing else holding you back to keep you there? Why didn’t you want anyone else to know?

Were you so isolated and lonely that no friends or family were able to keep you there by simply being in your life, to the point moving to a different Prefecture felt easier than confessing or confronting the truth?

Did you even have anyone to help you move into your new place? He saw all the boxes around your apartment.

Bakugou was in deep thought, his finger tapping on his desk while another hand was holding his chin. Kirishima waved a hand in front of Bakugou’s face, only to get no reaction.

“And we lost him.” Kaminari chuckled to himself, standing back up. “We should get going. Let him open up when he’s ready.”

Kirishima followed Kaminari out of the room, an eyebrow raised at Kam as they walked out. “When did you become wise?”

“Always have.” Kaminari said with a smirk.

“Fuck off with that shit.” Kirishima laughed.

You waited until you could no longer hear the heroes' voices through the halls before taking a look at the shared door between yours and Bakugou’s office. It felt awkward knowing your soulmate was on the other side of the door. What were you even supposed to say? ‘Thanks for the sex last night now let’s act as if we aren’t soulmates as we work’?

Great, now you are thinking about the sex with Bakugou last night and being reminded how sore your thighs were feeling. You feared for a reaction from Bakugou, remembering he could feel your sexual stirrings just as you could feel his. Within this moment though, things started to connect in your head now that you had the context that Bakugou was your soulmate.

The reason why he would always push his sexual stirring down during working hours was because of his job. Either so he doesn’t get onto the news for popping a boner while fighting some lizard villain or because he just was too busy to really focus on his sexual stirring. You started to feel really guilty for all the times you and Minato Kusumoto had sex while at work.

You mentally cringed. Why did you have to remind yourself of that?

Almost on cue, the shared door opened, bringing attention to Bakugou’s face.

“Did those idiots say where they were going?” He asked in a grumpy annoyed tone.

“No.”

He scoffed, turning his face away from you. Which, funny enough, only brings your attention to his red-tipped ears. You tried to hold back the smile threatening the form on your cheeks.

Bakugou turned back around to look into your eyes, catching you staring at him.

“You have any plans to meet up with friends or something?” He asked, trying to get information out of you.

You mentally cringed. A few people did come to mind who used to be your friends but dumped you after you started dating someone who wasn’t your soulmate. You doubted they would want to see you, even after you left Minato Kusumoto. You also doubted they would believe that you happened to meet your soulmate after moving too.

“...Not really. I haven’t made any friends yet.” You confessed to Bakugou, not knowing you confirmed his concerns.

You noticed tapping his finger on the other side of the door frame as his mind was in deep thought. “I’ll walk your home and help you unpack this week.” Bakugou said nonchalantly.

Your chest felt tight and you stood up from your desk. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t have to. I’m doing it because I want to.”

“You-? You want to help me?” You asked.

Bakugou gave you a look that read ‘Are you kidding’? Your lips went into a straight line.

You guess you really shouldn’t be surprised that your soulmate wants to spend time with you and help you get adjusted.

But as his secretary, you can’t have him be seen coming over to your place. It would be a scandal if people noticed him walking the same girl home every night for a week, especially because you were his secretary.

“You can’t do that.” You sighed out as you sat down.

Bakugou tried to hold back his snarl. “What do you mean I can’t do that?!”

“You can’t be seen walking and staying at your secretary’s home every night for a week, Bakugou-“

“I thought we were on a first-name basis.” Bakugou’s voice was low and almost threatening.

“Not while we are at work.” You bite back.

“Why not?!” He asked with an accusatory tone.

“Because if Dynamight is seen walking his new secretary home and staying at her home for longer than a minute, it will cause scandal.” You explained to him, trying not to yell at him.

Bakugou became quiet, his eyes just glued to your face - mostly your lips - as he thought over whether he wanted to be mad or not.

You were probably right. He couldn’t be seen out with you as much as probably wanted to. All he’s ever wanted was to show off his soulmate to the world. He thought once he met you, he would rarely be seen without you when he wasn’t working. It was a huge disappointment that you two met because you were now working for him.

Didn’t mean he liked it though.

“…I still want to help you.” He grumbled out in frustration.

You sighed, resting your open hand over your mouth as you tried to find a compromise for him. “How about you come on the weekend?”

“I come on Friday and sleepover for the weekend.” Bakugou replied with a soft grin.

“The weekend.” You sat up straight, trying to ignore the warm growth in your core.

“I know you like the idea.”

“But it might cause you problems.” You said as you stood up, grateful you wore your suit pants today. “I should’ve taken the job to work for Red Riot so we wouldn’t have this problem.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched. “You think you would’ve preferred it?” He asked with an angered tone.

“I don’t know,” You let out in frustration with your hands being thrown up. “But we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

Bakugou grumbled, his finger tapping the door frame again. “Fine, but you have to give me your personal number.”

“Fine.” You sassed back before you even realised what you were agreeing to. Only once you pulled out your phone did you mentally curse yourself. “This doesn’t mean for work purposes I’ll use this phone. I’ll still use my work phone.”

“Fine.” Bakugou replied in a less angry tone than before.

You felt awkward as you held out your personal phone to Bakugou. He walked over, putting his personal number into your contacts. You felt your knee bounce up and down under the table and tried not to peel at your nails.

You wondered if all soulmates were awkward in their first few social interactions or if it was just you two considering your job and sexual past.

Bakugou pulled a plain-looking phone with an orange case out of one of his pockets before handing it to you. You start pulling in your number, noticing him getting a lot of notifications from a group chat. It seemed as if Bakugou was the type of person to name all of his contexts with nicknames, but you still put in your full name.

Once you exchanged phones again, Bakugou looked at your new contact with a soft face for only two seconds before diving his phone back into his pocket. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” He asked.

“Yes, I am sure Bakugou. How about you go have some lunch?”

“Will you join me?”

You raised an eyebrow at Bakugou. He replied back with a click sound made from his mouth and turned his head away. The screen of your personal phone lit up, bringing your attention away from Bakugou to your phone. A cold icy feeling went through your blood.

Email From: Minato Kusumoto Subject: Why Did You Block Me? Preview: Hey Kitty, You didn’t respond to my text yesterday and…

You quickly put your phone face down on your desk, making Bakugou look at your face with a quirked brow.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing how stiff you had become and finding your reaction suspicious.

You mentally weigh your options of whether you should tell Bakugou or not. ‘Yeah just my ex trying to get in contact with me, no biggie.’ Did not seem like a good idea to say.

You took some deep breaths before speaking. “Just an email but how much the move here is going to cost me.”

It wasn’t a total lie. It seemed as if there was going to be a great personal cost if Minato Kusumoto was going to be emailing you during work hours.

Shit- If he had sent it any earlier that Bakugou would’ve seen it-

“I can pay for it.” Bakugou offered.

You did a double-take. “What?”

“If it’s too much, I can pay for it.”

“That isn’t necessary.” You replied, trying to think of some way to get him off the case. “Just means I won’t be able to have much takeout.”

Bakugou made a disgusted face. He wasn’t a fan of eating out.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to pay for it.”

“It’s fine, Bakugou. Promise.” You gently smiled at him.

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat from your smile and his ears went red. You on the other hand were trying to calm down your nerves and trying to remember if you could block people from emailing you. Were you going to have to block your ex on everything?

Bakugou kept staring at you for a little while longer, only breaking away when he heard his work phone go off. He reluctantly walked back into his office, closing the shared door behind him.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugou x y/n

44 notes · View notes