#they filled. the guns with whiskey????

[clove-pinks]

This night our men had a frolick, a drunken one, and were at a loss to find where or how they got the whiskey because in the morning every man was searched and all the whiskey emptied out. After some time it was discovered that they had filled their gun barrels with whiskey and had the vent stopped up with a little plug made of hickory wood and a tomkin of cork in the muzzle.

— Diary of Colonel George McFeely, 22nd and 25th U.S. Infantries, quoted in The War of 1812 in Person: Fifteen Accounts by United States Army Regulars, Volunteers and Militiamen, edited by John C. Fredriksen.

An illustration by Bryan Fosten in The American War 1812–14. From left to right: Sergeant, US Light Artillery, 1812; Corporal, Pioneers, 25th Inf. Regt., 1814; Sergeant, 22nd US Infantry Regt., 1813.

[lowrisemiller]

thoroughfare °˖⋆ ℧

“i met you there in texas, somewhere on the thoroughfare”

“on the side of the road in the same torn up clothes with a pistol in my pocket”

arthur morgan x fem!reader x joel miller

| masterlist | 4.4k words | picture doesn’t depict the appearance of the reader just for aesthetic |yearning, tension, kissing, oral f!receiving, gettin tossed around by two burly cowboys, praise, unprotected piv sex, cuddling fucking from mr miller, aftercare !

summary- Two rugged ranchers, lifelong friends Arthur Morgan and Joel Miller, find their quiet world upended when a younger woman arrives to work their land—and slowly works her way into their hearts. As desire grows into something deeper, the three of them cross the line between friendship and longing, discovering a love too wild and tender to tame.

They didn’t talk much, and that suited them both just fine.

Arthur had always said the land did most of the talking anyway. The wind in the grass. The lowing of cattle at dawn. The metal clang of fence wire tightening under calloused hands. After years of gun smoke and ghosts, the quiet wasn’t so much peace—it was penance. And Joel understood that better than anyone.

They’d run the ranch together for nearly a decade. Fifty head of cattle. A weather-beaten barn. Long days spent working fence lines or chasing down strays in the hills. Evenings filled with whiskey and silence by the fire. Arthur cooked. Joel carved. They didn’t need much. Just the land, the dogs, the horses, and the kind of friendship you didn’t have to label.

They were men who’d lost too much to ask for more.

The work was hard, and that was good. It gave their hands something to do. Their thoughts are something to drown in. Neither of them said it, but the house felt too big for two men their age. There were extra bedrooms no one stepped foot in. An empty porch swing that never moved. Sometimes, Joel would glance at the seat across from him at dinner and imagine someone laughing there.

Arthur would look out across the pasture at sunset and feel the ache in his chest like a ghost pressing a hand to his ribs.

Then came the girl.

She rolled up in a truck that coughed smoke and looked like it hadn’t seen an oil change in ten years. It was early spring—the thaw barely settled. Joel had just come back from hauling feed when he spotted the dust cloud and narrowed his eyes at the figure stepping out.

Boots in the mud. Soft flannel. Strong arms. A stubbornness set to her jaw.

Arthur stepped out onto the porch, wiping his hands on a rag. “You lost, darlin’?”

You shook your head. “Looking for the Lyle property.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Old George Lyle’s place?”

You nodded. “He passed a few months ago. Left it to me.”

Joel leaned against the post, arms crossed. “Didn’t know he had any kin.”

“I’m not,” you said simply. “Just someone he trusted. Taught me everything I know about cattle and fixing fences. I owed him.”

Arthur blinked, then smiled faintly. “That man was a hell of a card player.”

You smiled back. “So I heard.”

Joel muttered, “Place’s damn near falling in.”

“I can handle it.”

You didn’t ask for help. That was what caught their attention first.

────🌾────

Arthur watched you from the hilltop as he lit a cigarette. Joel noticed the way your back stayed straight, even when your shoulders shook from exhaustion.

By the end of the week, Arthur brought you a wheelbarrow and a fresh pair of gloves without a word. Joel handed you a water bottle and said, “You’re stubborn.”

You grinned. “So are you.”

You worked from sunup to sundown, bandaged your own blisters, and cursed loud enough to make Arthur chuckle into his coffee. You shared dinner with them one night, then two, then a week’s worth.

Eventually, Joel fixed the plumbing at the Lyle place. Quietly. Arthur rewired the porch light. You thanked them both with a smile that made something shift behind Joel’s ribs.

Then the rain came. And the roof leaked.

Joel stood in your doorway with his arms crossed, dripping wet. “Get your things.”

Arthur leaned in the truck window. “Spare room’s open. Ain’t much, but it’s dry.”

You moved in that night. One duffel bag. One quiet “thank you.”

────🌾────

Weeks passed like molasses, slow and sticky and sweet in their own strange way.

You never expected to stay this long.

The old Lyle property was half reclaimed from the brambles, but the rain had done a number on the roof, and more than once you’d found black mold in places you didn’t want to name. Arthur had patched what he could. Joel came over one morning with a cordless drill and never really left after that.

Eventually, they offered you the spare room in their house. Said it was temporary. Said it just made sense.

But after a while, no one brought up the word temporary again.

You all slipped into rhythm without meaning to. Mornings started with coffee and bare feet on cool wood floors. Joel took his black, Arthur loaded his with too much sugar, and you drank yours leaning against the counter in a sleep shirt and shorts, eyes half-lidded. One of them always made eggs. The dogs—Boone and Lady—sat at your feet, loyal and lazy, with their heads in your lap.

You fixed fence posts beside Arthur, sweat beading on your skin, nails between your lips as he handed you the hammer. He liked the way you didn’t flinch around mud, the way you cursed like a 70-year-old rancher and sang old songs under your breath.

Joel taught you how to ride his favorite quarter horse. Big, quiet gelding named Shimmer. Said you had good balance. Strong thighs. His voice always got rougher when he said thighs.

Sometimes he’d linger behind you in the saddle, correcting your grip with a hand on your waist. Sometimes his breath would hit the back of your neck, and you wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t even breathe.

You rode fence lines together at dusk. Swam in the creek on hot days. Played cards and drank beer on the porch at night. You started calling Arthur cowboy when he got bossy, and Joel sir just to see his jaw twitch.

They teased you back, sure—but never touched. Not really.

They were good men. Older. Quiet. They didn’t want to scare you off.

But something was shifting.

Joel caught himself looking at your hands. Your neck. The soft line of your spine when you bent over to stack feed bags. He started lighting his cigarettes farther from the porch—so he wouldn’t be tempted to sit too close.

Arthur got quieter around you. His laugh lingered a little longer, but so did the way his eyes drifted lower when you walked into a room. He fixed things that didn’t need fixing. Made excuses to be near you.

They never talked about it.

But you felt it.

Like that one night you were in the stables brushing Shimmer’s mane and Arthur joined you.

It was late. The horses were fed, the sky painted in fading streaks of gold and mauve. You were still brushing Shimmer down in the barn, sleeves rolled, boots muddy. Arthur stepped in, quiet as always, carrying a mug of tea like it was just something he’d thought to do.

“You keep brushing that horse, she’s gonna shine like polished silver,” he said in a low tone.

You smiled without looking up. “She likes it.”

Arthur leaned against the post. “So do you.”

You paused, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He stepped forward and handed you the mug. You took it, your fingers brushing his—rough against your smooth. He didn’t pull away.

“You work too hard,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “So do you.”

He gave a soft laugh, but didn’t move. He was close now. You could smell cedarwood soap and old tobacco. His eyes dropped to your lips, just briefly, and that alone made your breath catch.

“Got dirt on your cheek,” he murmured, lifting one hand.

His thumb brushed your skin. Slow. Careful. You swore he lingered. His hand didn’t drop right away. Instead, it cradled your jaw for just a second too long—his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip.

You didn’t speak. Didn’t dare.

He held your gaze like a man about to say something dangerous—but instead, he only stepped back, knuckles brushing yours as he whispered, “Night, darlin’.”

You stood there in the hay dust, heart pounding, wondering what would’ve happened if you’d leaned in.

Or

That morning with Joel in the kitchen.

The house was quiet except for the soft clink of dishes. You were in the kitchen rinsing out a coffee mug when Joel came up behind you—close, not touching, but close enough that your body noticed.

“You always leave your mugs in the sink?” he asked, voice low and dry.

You smirked. “You always hover behind people in the kitchen?”

Joel didn’t laugh. Didn’t move.

“You been wearin’ my flannel all day,” he said instead, voice rough.

You glanced down and shrugged. “Yeah. It was on the hook.”

He reached past you, slow, grabbed a plate from the drying rack. But his body brushed yours just slightly—his strong chest at your back, his hand ghosting near your waist.

You stayed still.

“I like how it looks on you,” he said, almost to himself.

You turned to face him, breath caught halfway. He was too close now. His eyes dipped to your lips, then back up. His hand rested on the edge of the counter beside your hip.

“I’m not tryin’ to start somethin’,” Joel said roughly.

“Then don’t stand so close,” you whispered.

But neither of you moved.

His knuckles brushed yours. You swallowed hard.

“I do things slow,” he said finally. “But when I want somethin’—I want it all the way.”

Then he stepped back.

And your knees nearly buckled.

────🌾────

It became too much. The two men took over every single thought. Before you’d go to sleep at night you would replay memories and little things they both have done.

You hadn’t meant for this to happen.

At first, it was just about survival. About fences and feed and early mornings with dirt on the window. You were too busy trying to patch the roof and clear out the barn to think about anything else. Joel and Arthur had been kind—quiet and rough around the edges, but kind. You respected them. Trusted them.

But something changed.

It was in the small things. The way Arthur always made your tea just right. How he’d linger near you in the barn, his warmth close enough to touch. The way he looked at you like you were soft, like you were some delicate thing he didn’t dare grab with dirty hands.

And then Joel—God, Joel. That man carried tension like it was sewn into his spine. Everything about him was hard angles, clenched jaw, calloused hands. But the way he watched you in his flannel, the way his voice dropped when he was near—it made your whole body buzz.

You liked being near them.

Too much.

Sometimes you caught yourself comparing them. Arthur’s steadiness, Joel’s intensity. The way Arthur said darlin’ with that gravel-deep gentleness. The way Joel’s hand would rest on your lower back for a second too long, fingers twitching like he was holding himself back.

It was starting to keep you up at night.

You’d roll over in bed, heart pounding, wondering what would happen if you reached out. If you chose.

But the truth was, you didn’t know if you could.

Because they were both slipping under your skin.

And then—

One night, it all cracked open.

You were curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, a throw blanket pulled to your chest. The movie playing was old and slow—some western Arthur liked. Joel had fallen into the armchair, nursing a beer, and Arthur sat beside you, closer than usual.

You said something about the sky, about how it was turning purple outside. Arthur hummed.

And then you felt it.

Joel’s eyes on you. Arthur’s hand against your leg, heavy and warm. The silence between all three of you stretched, pulled thin.

You turned your head—and both men were looking at you.

Not casually.

Not kindly.

But like men who had been trying not to want you for a long, long time.

Joel’s gaze dipped to your mouth. Arthur’s thumb traced a lazy circle against your thigh. You didn’t stop him.

Your breath caught.

No one spoke.

But the silence was loud.

And you knew—without a doubt—that this thing between the three of you wasn’t quiet anymore.

It was burning.

Still no one spoke.

Arthur’s thumb was still brushing circles against your thigh, slow and patient like he was memorizing your skin through the blanket. Joel hadn’t moved, but his eyes were darker now—hooded, jaw clenched, fingers tight around the neck of his beer bottle. The air in the room was charged, thick with heat and breath and something unspoken.

You swallowed hard.

And then, just barely above a whisper:

“…what are we doing?”

Arthur’s hand paused. Joel leaned forward.

You looked between them—at Arthur’s calm, unreadable face and Joel’s gaze flickering over your lips like he was already imagining what they’d feel like against his.

Neither of them answered.

So you pulled the blanket back, just enough to show the curve of your thigh, bare under the hem of Joel’s old flannel.

Arthur’s breath caught.

Joel stood up.

He crossed the space in three slow steps and knelt in front of you on the rug, large hands bracing on either side of your legs.

“You really want this?” he rasped. His eyes were locked on yours—hungry, hesitant, already gone.

You nodded, whisper-soft. “I do.”

Arthur let out a breath behind you. You turned slightly, meeting his eyes.

He was leaning close now too, hand still on your leg. “You sure, darlin’? Once we start this…”

“…we’re not stopping,” Joel finished.

You let your knees part between them.

That was all the answer they needed.

Joel leaned in first—slow, deliberate. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your lower lip before he kissed you. It was careful at first, his lips warm and slightly chapped, tasting faintly of beer and restraint. But when you sighed into him, he deepened it—tilting your face up, tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger he’d clearly been holding back for weeks.

Behind you, Arthur’s hand slid higher on your thigh.

“You two gonna make me sit here and watch?” he murmured, voice thick with heat.

Joel pulled back just enough to glance over his shoulder. “Thought you liked watchin’, Morgan.”

Arthur chuckled low, and then his hand moved beneath the hem of your—Joel’s shirt—his palm warm and rough against your bare skin.

You gasped, turning toward him, and his lips were already there—softer than Joel’s, slower, his kiss all patience and promise. He kissed you like a secret. Like he wanted to keep you.

You moaned softly, body caught between them, and Joel let out a sound from deep in his chest.

“Bedroom,” he muttered.

Arthur didn’t answer—just stood and lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. Joel followed close behind, one hand guiding your back, the other grazing your hip.

You were dizzy with it—wrapped in warmth and want, floating somewhere between them, their hands anchoring you. They moved like they’d talked about this before. Like they’d been waiting for the moment you’d fall into them.

And now?

They had you.

And they weren’t about to let go.

Arthur laid you down with care.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight, creaking softly under the solid strength of his body. Joel stood at the edge of the bed, watching—his eyes burning dark, like he was trying to memorize you just like this: flushed and breathing heavy, hair mussed, legs parted slightly on the sheets.

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur murmured.

His hands were on you already, calloused palms sliding up beneath the borrowed flannel. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your ribs—feather-light at first, then firmer as they moved up to cup your breasts, thumbs stroking lazy circles over your nipples.

“God,” you whispered.

Joel leaned over, hands braced on either side of your thighs. “Look at you,” he muttered. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Arthur was kissing your neck now, his beard rough against your skin, lips soft. He moved slow, like he wanted to savor it—each kiss dragging lower as he pulled the shirt higher, exposing your bare stomach inch by inch.

Joel’s hand slid up your thigh, spreading your legs wider. “She’s shakin’,” he rasped.

“I know,” Arthur murmured. “I got her.”

He kissed the curve of your hip as Joel leaned in and kissed your mouth again—this time harder, deeper. His tongue met yours with raw hunger, his grip on your thigh tightening. You moaned into him, your hips twitching upward, aching for more.

Arthur moved between your legs now, dragging his mouth lower, slower, lips brushing your inner thigh.

You whimpered.

“Patience, sweetheart,” Arthur said, voice low and warm. “We’re gonna take care of you.”

Joel’s hand came up to cup your jaw, turning your face back to his. “Gonna treat you so fuckin’ good. You hear me?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes.”

Arthur’s mouth pressed right where you needed it, hot and open, licking and sucking on your clit, and your back arched. Joel swallowed your gasp with another kiss, his hand sliding under your head, cradling you there, grounded and worshipped all at once.

They worked in tandem—Arthur’s tongue slow and methodical, like he was learning every response you gave him, every tremble. Joel’s lips at your ear, whispering things that made your skin burn:

“Can’t believe you’re lettin’ us have you like this.”

“Such a good girl.”

“Never gonna forget the way you sound, takin’ us like this.”

You reached down blindly, fingers threading through Arthur’s hair, and he groaned low against you, the sound vibrating through your core.

“Joel—please,” you breathed.

He growled softly, undoing his belt with one hand, kissing along your jaw with the other. “You want both of us tonight, baby?”

You nodded frantically. “Yes. Please, I want—”

Arthur’s mouth dragged up your body again, kissing your sternum, your throat. “Then you got us, darlin’. Every fuckin’ inch.”

Joel’s mouth met yours one more time, possessive and rough.

And as they undressed—hands and mouths and quiet praise—you realized something:

This wasn’t just desire.

It was need.

Arthur kissed you again—slow, steady—his mouth hot and tasting faintly of you. He’d shed his shirt somewhere between the bed and your thighs, and now his body was pressed against yours, warm and solid. You could feel every inch of him, every deliberate drag of his chest over your nipples, every reverent pass of his hands over your hips.

Joel was behind him now, kneeling on the bed, jeans tugged halfway down. His eyes never left your face.

“You want Arthur first?” Joel asked, voice low, almost a growl.

Your breath caught.

“I—yes,” you whispered.

Arthur groaned. “Good girl.”

He kissed down your body again, this time moving slower. Not teasing—just devoted. He wanted to feel every shiver. Wanted you pliant beneath him when he finally slid into you.

You reached for him, fingers threading through the back of his hair as he nudged your thighs apart again, lining himself up with practiced care. You felt the thick press of him at your entrance, and your whole body tensed in anticipation.

Arthur cupped your face with one hand, brushing his thumb over your lip.

“Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You did.

And then—he pushed in.

A long, slow slide that made your toes curl and your jaw drop, gasping as he filled you inch by inch. He held himself there once he was fully seated, forehead pressed to yours, both of you panting softly.

“You feel that?” he whispered. “How good you take me?”

You nodded helplessly, overwhelmed by the fullness, the stretch, the heat.

Joel sat beside you now, one hand stroking your hair back from your damp forehead, the other trailing down to your chest. He cupped your breast, watching Arthur move inside you with a hungry, reverent stare.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel muttered. “Look at you.”

Arthur started to move—slow, deliberate thrusts that rocked your body up the bed. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, whispered soft praise as your fingers clawed at his back.

Joel leaned in, kissed your cheek, then your lips—deep and lingering, tasting every moan Arthur pulled from your throat.

“You’re so good,” Joel murmured. “So fuckin’ good for us.”

You were unraveling, every nerve lit up, caught between Arthur’s steady rhythm and Joel’s mouth and hands. You felt possessed, held, worshipped.

And then Arthur pulled out slowly, pressing one last kiss to your sternum.

“Think she’s ready for you,” he murmured, looking at Joel.

Joel didn’t wait. He was on you in seconds, flipping you gently onto your side, spooning in close behind. His chest was slick with heat, breath ragged against your ear.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, lining himself up.

“Please,” you whispered.

He pushed in with a groan—deeper than Arthur, thicker, dragging a broken cry from your throat as he filled you completely. Joel’s hand curled around your waist, holding you in place as he began to move—grinding slow and deep, his mouth pressed to your shoulder.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hissed.

Arthur knelt in front of you now, brushing hair back from your face, kissing your mouth sweetly while Joel fucked you slow and unrelenting from behind.

“You’re ours now, ain’t you?” Arthur murmured. “Both of us.”

You nodded, tears at the corners of your eyes from how full you felt, how overwhelming it was to be held between them.

Joel’s thrusts grew harder, his breath turning rough against your skin. “Say it,” he growled. “Say you’re ours.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped. “I’m—yours.”

And when you came—loud, shaking, completely undone—they didn’t stop holding you. Didn’t stop whispering how good you were, how beautiful you looked, how they’d never let you go now.

You belonged to them.

And tonight, they made sure you knew it.

────🌾────

The room was quiet.

The kind of quiet that settles in after a storm—soft and sacred, broken only by the sound of three tangled breaths.

You were between them again, your body boneless and glowing, cheek pressed against Arthur’s chest. His heartbeat was a slow, steady thump beneath your ear, and one of his hands ran lazy circles along your spine, grounding you.

Joel lay behind you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, his body flush against your back. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his skin, the quiet way he breathed your name like a prayer.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You nodded, lips brushing Arthur’s skin. “Yeah. Just… wow.”

Arthur chuckled low in his throat. “That a good ‘wow,’ or a we-gotta-run-away-and-never-talk-about-it-again kinda wow?”

You laughed softly. “The first one.”

Joel hummed, and you felt his lips move against your shoulder. “Good. ‘Cause we’re not lettin’ you go now.”

Arthur shifted just enough to cup your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. “Didn’t hurt, did it? We didn’t push too much?”

“No,” you said, voice thick and quiet. “It was perfect.”

They exhaled together, that tension in their bodies finally melting all the way out of them.

Joel sat up first, kissed your shoulder, then leaned over to grab a warm cloth from the bedside. He was slow and gentle cleaning you up, murmuring quiet things like I got you, just relax, you were so good for us. Every motion was careful, reverent. Like you were something fragile. Something theirs.

Arthur pulled the blankets up, letting you settle again between them.

You felt completely safe. Wrapped in warmth and worn flannel and calloused hands that held you like you were the softest thing they’d ever touched.

“You always this quiet after?” Arthur asked, his fingers trailing along your ribs.

You shrugged, half-smiling. “Not always. But I’ve never… done this before.”

“With two men?”

“With two people who actually care.”

They both stilled.

Joel leaned forward, brushing hair from your face. “We do,” he said quietly. “Care.”

Arthur nodded, resting his forehead against yours. “This wasn’t just a one-time thing for us. Not if it ain’t for you.”

You looked between them, your heart thudding louder than it had all night.

“I don’t want it to be,” you whispered.

Joel smiled—soft and warm and rare. “Good. Then stay.”

“I'm already here.”

Arthur kissed you again—slower this time, with all the gentleness in the world. Joel tucked himself closer to your back, his hand slipping under your shirt to rest flat over your heart.

You fell asleep wrapped in both of them.

And when the sun rose through the dusty window panes the next morning, they were still there—one hand in your hair, the other tracing your spine, like they’d never let go.

And maybe they wouldn’t.

tags: @zevrra @xodilfluvr @whimsydoe

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Sugar, Baby

Chapter Three: Unraveling

Bruce Wayne x Sugar Baby! Reader

| Part 1 | | Part 2 |

I pinky promise there will be smut in the next part🤞 I just felt like making this one a bit of a slow burn

Taglist: @shadowqueen1322 @secretsideofbree @lillyrob

It started with nights at the manor.

At first, it was just a casual thing—Bruce would send a car, and you’d spend an evening talking over expensive whiskey, letting the world outside the Wayne estate fade into irrelevance. You still worked at the bar, still went to class, but somehow, Bruce had become a fixture in your life.

And it wasn’t just the money.

Yes, he still tipped you ridiculous amounts when he showed up at the bar. Yes, the black card he’d given you sat in your wallet, burning a hole you had yet to fill. But more than that, he was there.

The texts started coming more frequently.

B: You still alive?

You: Barely. My professor is trying to kill me with this assignment.

B: Send me the prompt. I’ll have my team handle it.

You: Absolutely not.

B: I don’t like seeing you stressed.

You: And I don’t like billionaire academic fraud.

B: Fair point.

He called, too—not often, but enough that you found yourself waiting for the sound of his voice on the other end of the line.

The nights at the manor got longer.

At first, it was just drinks and conversation, but then there were the quiet dinners Alfred started preparing for two instead of one. The slow walks through the grand halls of the estate, the firelit nights spent sprawled on the couch in the library, his arm slung lazily over the backrest behind you.

And then, of course, there were the kisses.

God, the kisses.

They started slow, teasing, an extension of whatever sharp-witted conversation you’d been having before he inevitably leaned in. Bruce kissed with purpose, with intent, with the kind of control that made you dizzy.

But that’s all it was.

Kissing.

He never pushed, never let things go further than you could handle, and part of you wondered if he knew.

If he had already pieced together that you had never done this before.

Not this—not just the kisses, but the way he made you feel.

Because it wasn’t just physical.

Bruce knew you.

He listened when you ranted about your classes, when you muttered about your deadlines, when you offhandedly mentioned your favorite books or movies. He remembered, too—casually dropping facts about your life into conversation, surprising you with small gestures that proved he had been paying attention.

“Tell me something real,” you murmured one night, curled up next to him on the oversized couch in his study.

Bruce glanced down at you, brow raising slightly. “Something real?”

You nodded. “Something not in the tabloids.”

He was silent for a moment, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against your knee.

“I never sleep for more than three hours at a time,” he admitted finally. “It’s been that way since I was a kid.”

You frowned, shifting to get a better look at him. “Why?”

His gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his expression. “You know why.”

You did.

Gotham knew the story of Thomas and Martha Wayne—the billionaire philanthropists gunned down in an alley, the grieving son left behind.

“I dream about them,” Bruce continued, voice quieter now. “Not always in the way you’d think. Sometimes it’s just… glimpses. My mother’s perfume. My father’s laugh. I wake up before I can hold onto any of it.”

Your chest tightened.

You reached for his hand without thinking, threading your fingers through his. Bruce blinked, as if surprised, before his grip tightened around yours.

He didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, rubbing a slow, deliberate pattern over your knuckles. “I just—”

“I’m glad you told me,” you interrupted softly.

He exhaled, eyes flickering toward your lips.

That night, the kisses were softer.

Not urgent. Not desperate. Just there.

Something real.

—

It was a few weeks later when you finally asked.

You were sitting in Bruce’s bedroom—an indulgently large space that still somehow felt distinctly him. There was a fireplace crackling in the corner, the low golden light casting shadows across the room.

Bruce was on the bed beside you, leaning against the headboard, sleeves rolled up as he scrolled through something on his phone. You had a book open in your lap, though you weren’t really reading it.

Instead, you were watching him.

“Bruce.”

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Mm?”

You hesitated. “Are you… waiting for something?”

He set his phone down, eyes scanning your face. “What do you mean?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around the book. “I mean, we’ve been… this for a while now.”

Bruce’s lips twitched. “This?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he admitted.

You exhaled. “So, are you waiting? For me?”

His expression shifted, something fond passing through his features.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Your stomach flipped. “Why?”

Bruce sat up, moving closer. One of his hands found your knee, fingers brushing against the fabric of your leggings.

“Because I know you,” he said, voice low. “I know you wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t real for you.”

You swallowed hard. “And?”

His thumb traced slow circles against your leg.

“And I want to take my time with you.”

You felt yourself flush, warmth spreading through your body at the implication.

Bruce smirked slightly, tilting your chin up with the crook of his finger.

“You deserve more than rushed decisions,” he murmured. “I don’t need more. Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”

You inhaled sharply. “I—”

His lips brushed against yours, soft and coaxing.

“Don’t overthink it,” he whispered against your mouth.

And for once, you didn’t.

—

It didn’t happen that night.

Or the next.

Or the one after that.

But somehow, the waiting didn’t feel like waiting.

Masterlist

[madewithsilk]

Sevika with bartender reader?

ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ʙᴀʀᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇꜱꜱᴀʀʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪɴᴋꜱ ᴏʀ ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ?

— ᴄᴡ; ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ & ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ, ᴀʟᴄ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

You were counting up the money and tips from last night, getting ready to clock in for tonight. Most were regular tips, 20s-50 bills, especially if they were consantly flirting with you. Though, Sevika, your regular, oddly tipped you more than anybody else. You didn’t think much of it, just that she had money and was lonely. And anyways, it was good to be on Silco’s number two’s good side. You moved your hair away from your hair, sighing and placing your hands on your waist as you listened to some random customer’s order. As you turned around the grab the vodka, your thong was visible above your low rise jeans, a low whistle coming from them. Your eyes rolled but a faux smile graced your lips as you turned. Shaking their drink a while longer, you placed it on the counter. “Add it to my tab, sweetheart.” You tilted your head with a nod and a smile.

Customers came in and out, all of them boring you. Yet once the door opened and Sevika’s broad figure was in your line of sight, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face, your eyes lit up. You quickly adjusted your posture and fixed your low-cut shirt, unsure as to why you wanted to impress her so badly. She walked up to the counter, placing her gun down, intimidating others who were surrounding you on the counter. They grumbled yet walked way to the other side of the bar. “There’s my favorite doll,” She spoke throatily. Her eyes darted to your tits and stomach, then to your slightly disheveled hair from working. “Came a bit later than usual, Sev’” You stated, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the bar supplies.

“I have stuff to do, still passed by to see you, eh?” You chuckled at her bragging, how she was oh so packed in her schedule yet made time in her busy day to eye you and leave you money. “Whiskey neat?” You asked, her usual order, a classy woman if you had to describe it. She nodded, settling down onto a barstool. As you spun to clutch a glass, her wandering eyes landed on the pairing of your jeans and panties, an uncalled for groan leaving her lips. You cocked a brow, only flipping your head to see why she did that. “Just— uh, just a bruise, you know.” You bought it, unaware of the way her thoughts traveled to the filthiest of things. She received her drink, lips placed on the rim to take a sip.

“So, missed me?” She teased, trying to fill the silence. Licking her bottom lip, watching your tits move with your body and hips turn to grab different items. “Not missed, was jus’ bored.” You clarified even though you yourself didn’t understand your desires and feelings towards her. She hummed in acknowledgment, perhaps amusement. “Good, it’s good I don’t bore you.”

Three more drinks later, Sevika was already inebriated. Her words were slurred and her movements were messy. It seemed everybody else in the bar was the same, intoxicated and scattered all over the place. Not many people were asking for drinks anymore, simply dancing, talking, making out, you name it. You were no longer behind the counter but leaned against it beside Sevika. Sevika’s filter was long gone, her heavily lidded eyes shamelessly eye fucking you. “Are you a slut for every customer, or just me?” A surprised gasp left your lips, eyes widening at the drunk words. A slight huff leaves your lips, crossing your arms over your tits. “Seriously? I’m not a slut.” Sevika rolls her eyes tauntingly, hands subconsciously wandering to your waist. Pressing you flush against her, Sevika spoke now, the music still making her hard to hear. “Your damn panties are out for everybody to see and visually ruin you.” One of your legs wrapped around her bottom leg, boot pressed against it. Her condescending tone making heat pool at the bottom of your tummy in need, and this time, you knew exactly what you needed.

A knowing smile came upon your lips, tracing your fingertips teasingly along her facial features. “Maybe I did it for you,” You commented, placing the idea of you dressing up at home in your little panties and bra thinking of what outfit would please her most. Which thong would get her attention. What top would make her wanna fuck your brains out. Which hairdo would make her tip you greatest. It had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, the alcohol making it harder to say grounded. “Though, I think you’re a bit of a coward.” You extended your botton lip, knowing such insults would set her off. She gripped on you tigher, growling besides your ear. “Why’s that?” Sevika questioned, slipping her knee between both of your thighs. There was ultimately no space left between you and Sevika’s bodies. “All you do is give me money and throw sneaky passes at me, why haven’t you just fucked me, Sevika?” She let out a hefty chuckle, licking her dry lips. “Stop testing me, little girl.” She says mockingly, just trying to intimidate you even though you’re not that far in age. “Think you’re the little girl, Sev’, can’t even reach for that zipper if your life depended on it.”

Your endless ridiculing made her grab your ass, squeezing it and lifting you onto the counter. Your back arched against her hands now, arms circling around her neck. Her hand rushed to undo your pant’s buttons, yelping slightly. “Sev’— are you seriously—“ She cuts you off wih a grumble, nipping at your neck. “You fuckin’ asked for it, now you’re complaining, make up your damn mind, doll.” Your hands came to her chest, trying to push her away but failing miserably. “Nobody’s watchin’” She reassured, hands running through your tense frame. She only got the confidence from the drinks in her system, her thumb coming to rub circes on your pulsing nub. Your cunt clenched around nothing, moaning her name into her ear. A few people’s heads turned, observing the slick from your pussy coating Sevika’s hand. A quick glare made them look away, yet you were still worried and turned on from being displayed. “Tell me how to move m’hand, doll.” She demanded, gathering all your wetness on her two digits and ramming them into you. Your legs circled her torso, head hidden in the crook of her neck.

She pumped them in and out of you, watching your every reaction and whimper. She was experienced, you knew that much, yet seeing it in action was different. “Cu-curl—“ Before you ended your request, she curled her fingers into your g-spot, your jaw going slack as she abused that spot. “Sev’, Sev’, too much—“ Her free hand grabbed your throat, ruining your pussy in plain sight. “Close, doll?” You nodded, tears dripping onto her neck from being embarrassed and babbling pleas. A white ring of cum coated Sevika’s fingers, cooing praises, and encouragement, and then sucking a hickey onto your pulse point. “Thought you weren’t a slut?” Her fingers left your sopping pussy with a nasty squelching noise, licking your cum off her knuckles. Your thighs squeeze shut, reaching to zip up your pants. “You’re a bitch.” You spat, legs shaky. “Promoted from coward, it seems?” She leaves 400 on your counter besides you. 150 from her drinks and the rest for.. well..

“I swear to god if you leave—“ you nearly chase after her as she waves her hand walking away. “I’ll be getting myself off in my car till you get off your shift, yeah? Don’ get your panties inna’ twist.”

ʀᴇqꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ 𐙚

[starlostseungmin]

ice on whiskey ─── hwang hyunjin.

✰ pairing : assassin/hitman!hyunjin x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

✰ genre : mafia au, nsfw+18, strangers to lovers, kinda slow burn

✰ warnings : lots of profanity, guns, violence, character deaths, kidnapping, rampage, reader almost drowned, felix got injured, mentions of drugs and other weapons, black market, crimes such as arson, murder and illegal businesses, blood, kissing, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.receiving), cunnilingus, breast play, hyunjin stroking himself (slightly mentioned)... MDNI semi-proofread. lmk if i missed one :'>

✰ word count : 25k (the longest so far)

✰ notes : wooyoung from ateez made a cameo in here lol and i’m not expecting this to get a lot of interactions but if you do read this, DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading so i’ll know what you think of this long-ass fic. please separate fiction from reality. inspired by — freeze and give me your tmi by skz, too sweet by hozier, a few scenes from the k-drama queen of tears, vincenzo and 365 days trilogy

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @starseungs , @sleepyleejii

masterlist | taglist

members’ characters and roles.

Hwang Hyunjin. 

His name echoes as the sounds of crackling flame and a huge—thick black smoke escalate to the sky. He stood on the rooftop across from the building that was burning down as the fire trucks and cops aligned on the road beneath. 

With a zippo in his hand—he closed and opened the lid, making a small flame that caused chaos. A click sound is heard after he closes the lid, shoving it inside his black coat’s pocket. A smirk is plastered on his face upon hearing his name being cursed by the family of a notoriously corrupt politician. He doesn’t need to take a glance at who it was—he already recognizes those names being listed on his murder list. Too bad, the body burned along with the building. 

“Good job, Hyunjin,” He heard his boss say on his earpiece while removing the black gloves as he exited the building. 

It is his job to murder whoever it is when his family gets provoked. A role that he is trained to do so. 

“Get back home, we have another target,” Hyunjin stopped his car across the street as he took a few looks from the burning building. Some employees were weeping, firefighters were trying to calm the fire, the medical team was on search and the officers were investigating. 

His name will never be revealed in the media. Who knows? He’s part of the Mafia. 

“Fuckers,” He said under his breath driving away from the crime scene. 

Arson may be one of his crimes, yet that’s not the only way to do his job. The next target is set on another date. 

It was another usual night at the hotel when the sound of a gunshot was heard across the room as a body fell on the floor with a loud thud. Hyunjin stood there, a gun in his hand—eyes filled with no remorse and other emotion. He stared at the body while hiding his weapon in his belt underneath his black coat then a sigh of relaxation escaped his lips as his footsteps echoed on the marble floor—taking his way out leaving the man he just killed covered with blood. 

He always didn’t understand why Chan sent him alone to negotiate when Seungmin should be the one doing this instead. But the latter is too busy to read and win cases. Hyunjin could’ve taken a signal from Seungmin after failing to negotiate with the bastard. 

“Dispose of him.” He said to the two bodyguards waiting for him outside. 

He continued to walk by the hall as he headed towards the elevator—pressing the ground floor’s button. The door closed slowly as he leaned back on the handle while fixing his suit through the reflection. It was a waste to wear such expensive clothing only to be assigned to kill someone. He would have screamed and cried if there was blood that managed to paint his suit, even though it wouldn’t be visible since he’s wearing all black from top to toe. Still, he treasures this kind of clothing as it is the representation of his identification. 

He couldn’t say no to the boss. 

Frustrated as he was, it was getting late. The elevator reached the ground floor and his phone kept ringing inside his chest pocket in his blazer. Another urgent call. He’s been getting one ever since his morning started, probably another errand to run for Chan. His footsteps echoed once again on the marble floor through the main hall of the hotel as he made his way toward the entrance where his car was waiting.  It looked like nothing happened when he had the guts to act normal and conservative with his job but he got used to it.

A man bowed at him while giving him the keys as he took his phone out—answering that damn call. 

“Did you kill him?” A voice from the other line asked. 

“Yes,” Hyunjin answered as he opened the car’s door and sat comfortably. “I’m heading back now,” 

“Okay, be quick, we have another one on the loose,” said the man on the phone. Hyunjin didn’t respond and went to drive away. 

It is supposed to be a day off which he wanted to spend in his guesthouse near the beach on that one island. But damn Bang Chan and his list of names for murders, Hyunjin couldn’t even take the private jet to their island because for sure, he has a feeling that Chan has another mission for him or something urgent to make a meeting out of it. 

He pushed the accelerator to full speed as he drove on the highway making it like his racing track. His engine roared, earning everyone’s attention. Some cursed the shit out of him, some were amazed by his violation of traffic laws, Hyunjin felt defeated—he didn’t even get to take a sip of whiskey while trying to negotiate with that man at the hotel. He was irritated, to begin with. Imagine your day off became a business day just because someone wants to get murdered. 

It’s valid.  

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel, maintaining the speed of his Mercedes Benz as it traveled through the road by the cliff where you could see the ocean and the city lights. The thought of taking some days off just to walk by the shore would be a luxury in his crucial job. He doesn’t even remember when was the last time he had a vacation and how exactly he landed on this kind of work when he was supposed to be a professional shooter as a sport. Hiring him was probably Chan’s best decision. 

“You’re late,” He said. 

“He had a lot to talk about,” Hyunjin reasoned, taking a seat beside Felix on the couch. All eight members of the family gathered in the main living room with Chan in the middle—slamming folders on the coffee table followed by Hyunjin’s gaze. “What are these?” 

“Our next person,” Minho said, making Hyunjin sigh in response. 

“Another murder for me?” He asked cocking his head.  

“No,” Seungmin answered. “She’s a different case,” 

“She?” 

“Yes,” Felix interrupted as he took the main folder, making Hyunjin read the details. It was a profile. “Y/N Jung. She works as a publisher at Park’s Corporation. Her parents died when she was 5 and raised in an orphanage until the age of 18. Top of her class in high school and graduated Summa Cum Laude at ***** University. Mr. Park hired her a year ago and got promoted 6 months after,” 

“Impressive but what’s with this person?” Hyunjin asked who seemed not interested if it was not someone for him to shoot. 

“We found out that she’s the only daughter of the Godfather of the Jungs who died decades ago, they’re our family’s rival. She probably has no idea since she’s living a normal life but her relatives are after her since she’s the only heir. They wanted to kill her,” Seungmin said—now he is intrigued. 

“What if the Jungs will find out that she’s with us?” 

“It will provoke them of course. They still have a debt to pay after all,” Chan said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “They can’t have her that easily,” 

“So,” Hyunjin paused, pointing at himself. “I’m going to kidnap her?” He was unsure about his assignment but it will probably go that way. “And where do we keep her? Here?” 

“Your guesthouse,” Chan chuckled. “Take this mission as your days off from work, I will make sure no one finds you,” 

“Hyung, give me a break. I’m supposed to leave for Colmar this weekend,” Hyunjin argued. 

“You can’t,” Chan said firmly. “You know how your job is unpredictable so either you do this or leave?” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to be your assassin now, a babysitter?” Hyunjin scoffed. But he knows he doesn’t have a choice. Again. 

Hyunjin finds himself inside his room after the meeting in Chan’s heavenly huge mansion at the top of a mountain that was rendered for residency. He thought about the case thoroughly this time and this is the very first mission that Chan asked him not to kill anyone. It is unusual for him of course, as he is not used to the concept he’s getting into. A lost princess that everyone is looking for. She could be Rapunzel in some sort. But anyway, this could help him rest for a while. It would make his status crumble in this family if he declined the offer. 

He ran his fingers through his black long locks as he sat on his bed, taking off his blazer and loosening his tie. The gun was already placed inside the drawer and took a glass of whiskey sitting on his side table. He stared at nowhere and drowned in his deep thoughts while his back rested comfortably on the headboard along with the pillow while reading your profile and other personal documents attached to the folder. 

A lot will be planned for this exhibition. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, slamming the papers on his side table. 

**

Days passed and you arrived at the party’s venue five minutes before it started. Mr. Park already requested your presence the moment you walked in. It is supposed to be a night to enjoy but little didn’t you know that you’re being watched. Being not a fan of this kind of event, you didn’t want to be here in the first place. With tons of people and the intoxicating smell of alcohol and cigarettes, there is a reason why you didn’t party when you were still a student. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips—you admit that your life sucked by then, an orphan who managed to survive the challenges in life. You raised yourself well with the use of your late parents’ insurance money, which is quite A LOT. Yet you stopped using them when you got a job. Growing up in a tough environment, not that many friends, no social life, and a pile of money made you survive like a castaway on an unknown island. Yet you were thankful for being responsible and a few guidelines from the headmistress of the orphanage who is supposed to be a mother to you but she never did, maybe once she was. 

These thoughts never leave your mind. It was an experience to grow up independent. It hurts you sometimes that you grew up having no parents to call on, no house to go home to during the holidays, just you in that lonely—godforsaken apartment. You got used to it anyway. 

And who are you to judge the life that the heavens gave you?

You sat by the counter after a long conversation with Mr. Park regarding his business. It was tiring to speak corporate on your day off. You should be at home watching your favorite local drama and crying with a bucket of popcorn. But hell, one of the most important people in the company should be here. Another sigh was heard from you as the bartender placed a glass of champagne on the counter, indicating it was your drink. 

“Thanks,” You smiled. 

The loud music, the blinding lights, the smoke, and the smell of cigarettes being mixed with the air-conditioner are choking you. It was bad—you could’ve coughed so loud until your throat dried. Champagne won’t be a lot of help either. 

Hyunjin was there. 

White v-neck long-sleeved polo, black blazer, black slacks, and black shoes. A handsome tall man, who smells expensive, who looks expensive, and a bit dramatic at times but the people who see him can’t deny he is so damn attractive with that suit with a few strands of wet hair styled on his face for elegance. 

He walked slowly after seeing you settled by the counter wearing that black long dress with see-through sleeves. You were beautiful. 

Felix followed him as Han and Changbin were on the lookout—watching some members of the Jungs trying to locate you in the venue. Hyunjin ordered a drink as he sat on the empty high chair beside you which you had to raise your glass as a form of greeting him. He just gave you a small smile and moved his chair to watch the crowd dancing instead of the bunch of drinks on display. 

It’s safe to say that he caught your attention. Who wouldn’t when he’s tall, short wolf cut, a black suit with a white top within, a glass of whiskey in one hand—a face of a model, siren eyes, a great physique… he’s totally your type. It would give you a reason to stay in the party for a while. You hang your head low on the counter as Hyunjin notices you getting consumed by the alcohol while sipping on his whiskey. 

“You shouldn’t drink that much,” You heard him say. Damn, he’s concerned, that thought made you blush. 

“I know,” You paused between the hic. “It’s just, it’s my first time having to enjoy a drink outside,” You smiled. “I’m not a party girl, you see. I’m a home buddy,” But Hyunjin just smirked. 

You didn’t leave the counter an hour later and kept on drinking the same drink. Mind you there is only 12% of alcohol in a bottle of champagne but your tolerance doesn’t give a fuck. You don’t usually get drunk easily but this time is different. That’s what they say, drink your problems away. It is not in your life mottos. A drink wouldn’t make you decide to die. 

The person beside you, will. Not the one you greeted with the glass. He’s too handsome. 

“Incoming to Ms. Jung’s left side, Hyunjin,” Said Han from the earpiece. 

Hyunjin cleared his throat as he moved—facing the bar while turning his glass from side to side. 

Being independent meant you could sense danger in one glance but you were too dizzy to identify the man beside you. Unbeknownst to your actions, your hand landed on the man who smiled at you earlier and looked at him. He was confused as to why but it is a plus that you trust him, which you shouldn’t. Maybe because he’s not provoking you or anything. You tried so hard to stay quiet and not embarrass yourself in front of your party crush. 

Hyunjin was alerted as he craned his neck a bit to observe. 

“Such a beautiful face,” You heard the other man from your left while tightening the grip of your hand on Hyunjin’s. The unknown man was about to caress your cheek when Hyunjin suddenly let go of the grip—spinning your chair to face him, having his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he planted a kiss on your lips. It was so sudden and unexpected yet it was good. Felix was surprised as he witnessed it behind Hyunjin. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” He exclaimed. 

The kiss lasted longer. His delicate plump lips were soft as it tasted like he just had a glass of whiskey now being mixed with champagne you just had. His kiss was so gentle to the point that it was so sweetーyour knees felt weak and blood rushed through your veins. Unbeknownst to the events, he pulled his gun out from his belt, aiming at the man’s forehead. His eyes were looking at him as he was kissing you. 

The man raised his hands in surrender and yet he had this dirty smirk plastered on his face. Han and Changbin were already standing on both sides, hooking their arms around the person of interest. You were so captivated by his kiss that it felt like having a live makeout session in front of the barista and Felix but Hyunjin had to stop before it got deep.

“Fuck,” The man grunts. 

“Don’t turn around,” Hyunjin whispered to your ear as you could feel your heart going insane and your mind blank. Did he just kiss you? Yes, what the fuck. His left arm was still around your waistーpulling you closer as if he was hugging you. But why is it that he won’t allow you to turn around when you’re a blushing mess and the urge to scream in happiness is strong? 

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” The man with blonde hair spoke behind him. What?

“Are you working for the Jungs?” Hyunjin asked. You didn’t understand what these are all about and tried to get away but Hyunjin’s too strong to let you go. “Babe, don’t move,” He whispered again. I am going to ascend to heaven if he’s going to be like that for a while. 

“You could say that,” The man behind you answered. 

“You better pay your debt to the Wolves,” Hyunjin answered. “I’ll make sure you will never get your hands on Y/n,” 

How the fuck did he know my name?

“You will never know what will happen next if you kill me, Hyunjin,” The man stated. “They will find the heiress no matter what,” And with that, Hyunjin pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot was heard through the whole room. The body collapsed as everyone panicked while making their way out of the venue leaving you, Hyunjin, his brothers, and a group of men who were probably the dead man’s accomplices. You were also surprised, flinching at your spotーconfused about what was happening. 

“Get her out of here,” Said Han. “Now.” He added before he ran upstairs to catch the assigned person to take you to the Jungs along with Changbin. Hyunjin nudged Felix before turning back to you. 

“What’s happening?” You spoke in panic but at the same time, you couldn’t move. 

“Look, Miss, we have to go.” He said. Little didn’t you know that the crush you’re supposed to have made your night turn unexpectedly?

“What? You’re a stranger, I can’t trust you!” You argued but Hyunjin didn’t have enough patience to talk back right now and just went to pick you up like a damsel in distress. 

“Let’s go, Felix!” You heard him say as he walked out of the venue. Han and Changbin decided to stay back for a while unless they captured the spies who were watching you the whole time when you were with Mr. Park and Hyunjin. Everyone was panicking and managed to get out, even your boss who was assisted by his guards.

“Hey! Put me down!” You exclaimed trying to get down but Hyunjin didn’t even bother to listen and you were way too drunk to stand on your own. “We kissed but I don’t even know your name!” 

“It’s fucking Hwang Hyunjin,” He said, making you sit on the passenger’s seat as Felix went to his car parked beside Hyunjin’s. 

“Okay, Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin, take me home,” You said as you heard his engine roar. 

“I don’t even know where you live but you’re coming home with me,” He answered as he stepped on the gas making the car accelerate with Felix, tailing him. 

“Is this kidnapping? I will sue you!” You exclaimed but Hyunjin just tried to put up with your shit. “God, I’m fucking stupid! First, I got drunk from that stupid champagne! Second, I kissed a stranger and got traumatized and third I’m letting this motherfucker take me somewhere,” You cried while holding on to your seatbelt. “I don’t even know who Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is, the fuck?!” 

“Will you shut up?” Hyunjin hissed, making you whimper instead. 

I’m going to die, no, I can’t die yet. I won’t allow them to kill me, I still have strays to feed, I want to get married and have kids, and I still need to meet the love of my life and grow old with them. Fuck, I’m going to die. I am being kidnapped and Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is absolutely unknown in my entire life. I am so dumb, so stupid letting my first kiss taken— You thought when you heard someone was calling. 

“Hyunjin, we’re being followed,” Felix said through the call as soon as Hyunjin accepted it and took a glance at his side mirror. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin said in frustration. 

“I’ll stall them, get on the freeway,” Felix said. 

“No, fuck! They know that Y/n’s here,” Hyunjin answered.  

“What are we going to do?” Felix asked, feeling anxious from the other line.

“Go back and get Changbin and Han,” Hyunjin said as you were listening to their conversation. The car ride is making you sicker and wants to puke, but Hyunjin’s car seems so expensive that you’re just trying to hold it in and yet it seems impossible. This is an unexpected turn of a Saturday night. 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll lead them astray, then,” Hyunjin said. 

“Fuck, alone?” Felix reacted.

“Just go, Felix!” Felix sighed heavily as he made a sudden U-turn making the following car halt in response. You stopped crying upon listening to their conversation and when Felix left, you could see how angry Hyunjin was. “You better hold on tight,” You heard him say when you are already holding on for your dear life. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!

He’s already violating traffic laws now with his friend and fuck, what’s the worse that could happen? Getting arrested or killed after being kidnapped? And the car following us is not even the cops. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!

“What’s happening?” You asked for the second time, tightening your grip on the seatbelt. 

“You’ll find out later,” He said as he made the car engine roar—speeding through an unknown road. 

You could feel how unusual the speed of his car was, it was faster than a few minutes ago. Vomiting would be the worst that could happen inside right now. Not in this expensive car, not in this expensive black dress that you bought from your favorite brand, not with this hair and makeup you’ve spent hours to make yourself presentable after 5 days of being stressed.

“Can I at least know where you’re taking me?” You asked, trying not to make puking sounds. “I think I’m getting sicker at this speed,” 

“Don’t you dare vomit in my car!” He exclaimed, trying to focus on the road and at the same time, glancing at his side mirror. The car is still there and Felix is nowhere to be found now. Hyunjin kept on taking turns and you’re getting sicker. In a few seconds, you won’t be able to hold it in. 

“Can you slow down a bit?” You begged but there’s no way Hyunjin is doing that. 

“Do you want to live or not?” Hyunjin hissed, hands tightening their grip on the wheel even more. 

“I want to if you won’t kill us,” You said, almost crying again. 

“I’m a skilled driver,” He argued. 

“I’m not doubting you,” You answered, shaking in fear and sickness. “But I would like to apologize in advance,” 

“What? Fuck—no!” Hyunjin exclaimed as he was too late. You already vomited on his mat— coughing after feeling like you were being choked. “Motherfucker! I told you not to let it out!” 

“But I suddenly feel better! Don’t worry, I’ll wash your car,” You said as you leaned back on the passenger’s seat leaving Hyunjin more frustrated. 

“Fuck,” He sighed as he continued driving at the same speed when suddenly a truck was heading through the go signal from the right side at full speed as well. It gave Hyunjin an idea that he made the clutch go forward as the engine roared even more, wanting to go through the stop signal. 

“Wait!” You exclaimed, followed by intense screaming while covering your face with your hands as Hyunjin stayed quiet, brows knitted together, hands tightened their grip on the wheel even more—speeding through the highway and the car that was following you, crashed on the truck making a loud impact as the cars lined up got delayed to go through the traffic. Your heart was beating faster—panting, as you sweat from all the vomiting and a reckless driver beside you. Thanks to them, you are probably getting sober from the series of events. “What the fuck was that?” 

“I told you I’m a skilled driver. But you have to clean my car tomorrow morning,” He said, sighing in relief as he glanced at his rearview mirror, watching the car burn as it stood still, glass shattered and crushed. 

“So I’m not going home, then?” You asked, watching him with those terrified eyes. 

“Do you think after what just happened I’ll let you go home? You vomited in my car, my brothers are out there trying to capture those who wanted to kill you, and I just saved your life from those bastards and that fucker at the party,” Hyunjin said, getting back on the car’s usual speed while loosening his tight grip. 

“Why do they want to kill me? And how did you know me?” You asked, being confused, to begin with in addition to fear and doubt.  

“Long story short, I was tasked to take you in because of your family affairs.” He answered. 

“Family affairs? I’m an orphan! Nobody came for me when I was at the orphanage!” Your exclaimed, brows knitted together.

“Y/n Jung, a publisher at Park’s Corporation, the daughter of Mr. F/n Jung and Ms. M/n Kim, the Godfather. Orphaned at the age of 5, was sent to ***** University and graduated Summa Cum Laude. You have lived alone since you were 18,” He said, making your eyes widen in shock. 

“Stalker much! How did you know?” You shouted, attempting to kick him. “And Godfather? What the fuck is that?”

“You are the only heir of the highest mafia leader who died years ago. Your relatives are coming to kill you so they can get your parents’ properties in all of Korea. That explains why they left you a great sum of money,” Hyunjin explained, which became too much for your sober brain to catch up and take in. 

“So you’re saying that I’m part of this gangster shit?” You laughed. “Dude, I barely even know my parents and my family background, and then someone like you just appeared out of nowhere, explaining this crazy stuff,” You answered, resting on the passenger’s seat like a stubborn little child. “I want to go home,” 

“You owe me and my car. My boss will kill me if I let you go,” Hyunjin argued but only sighed in response, just letting an unusual stranger earn your slight bit of trust. 

He knows you have so many questions at the moment and he’s not sure he can answer everything. That is why he is taking you to Chan’s enormous mansion at the mountaintop. The streetlights became rare the moment you entered the road by the cliff, nervous about what was going to happen shortly. It was dark—you didn’t even know what to feel. Being terrified is an understatement, you have no idea what you are going into. 

Hyunjin became quiet as soon as you stopped talking yet the disgusting smell aroused his irritation. He tried not to get upset with it since you were already on the premises. 

“Clean yourself before we see Chan,” You heard him say as you gave him a nod. Hyunjin parked his car and walked around it to open the door for you. 

“Thanks,” You said as you followed him inside. 

The stories you’ve read about these kinds of families weren’t exaggerating when writers say that Mafias are filthy rich with huge mansions, expensive cars and furniture, business booming here and there, and money coming and going. Being a bookworm and a movie lover helped. Your mouth gaped at the sight of the interior. It’s probably more expensive than you. But learning the fact that you’re an heiress made a small stretch on your net worth. Of course, if it’s not a prank or whatever. 

Your eyes wandered around the main living room through the hall and the stairs as Hyunjin led you inside his room. Even his room is bigger than your apartment. 

“Your clothes are placed on my bed, the bathroom’s on your left. I’ll be outside,” He said as you gave him a nod but before you could take a step away from him, you felt a hand wrapped around your wrist—pulling you closer. “Don’t even bother trying to escape,” 

“Even if I did, you’ll capture me eventually,” You said, rolling your eyes—unhanding yourself away by harshly removing your wrist from his large hand. 

“If you don’t want to be killed of course,” He smirked as he went out of the room. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the pajamas he prepared for you. 

“Is she here?” Seungmin asked the moment he saw Hyunjin standing outside his room. 

“Inside,” Hyunjin answered, motioning his head to the door. 

“Good,” Seungmin sighed in relief. “Felix said they’re on their way. They got the accomplices. Chan said they will be taken to the island tonight and you killed someone out there,” 

“I didn’t,” Hyunjin breathed. “The rest of them were following us, I have to make sure Y/n’s safe,” 

“I know,” Seungmin said. “You did well,” 

Thankfully, Hyunjin’s door wasn’t soundproof. You heard their conversation when you were about to knock. The sage green pajamas were comfy as they were made of silk, your hair was wet after taking a shower and the other products you used were immaculate. They must’ve prepared for your arrival that he already has those products aligned in his bathroom. 

You leaned closer to the door and knocked a few times just to make Hyunjin unlock it, making Seungmin intrigued to see you too. 

It took a while as you cleaned everything, making yourself sober up. This was a lesson not to drink a lot—you don’t even like drinking. You need to be presentable at least, but the aftertaste of champagne didn’t feel good staying inside your mouth. Yet this wasn’t that important to you right now as you have questions to ask and answers to collect.

“Hi,” Seungmin beamed. “I’m Seungmin, the family lawyer, nice to meet you Y/n,” He added, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You hesitated at first, but it seems like he’s a bit friendly. 

“Hi,” You said, giving him a quick smile and shaking his hand. He looks too cute to be part of this gangster family but at the same time, extremely attractive. 

“Let’s go see Chan now,” Hyunjin said as he walked away first with Seungmin gesturing his hand to follow the former as he stayed behind you. 

You have no idea who Chan is, and you get even more nervous that you are a few steps into meeting him. The information about your parents became unexpected because no one knew and no one even came to the orphanage to tell you anything. Not even your relatives who unfortunately don’t care about you and now want you dead. The idea led you to come with them to earn information and flee when you get the chance. Thoughts of escaping would be impossible at this point since you are being surrounded and watched. There are a lot of surveillance cameras from the gate to the mansion. It’s hard to find a blind spot. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin’s footsteps echoed through the hall while yours remained quiet because of the fluffy Cinnamon Roll slippers Hyunjin gave. It was almost cute but you remembered he kissed you without permission, hypothetically let the driver of that car who followed you, get into a terrible accident and shoot a man in the same night. May they rest in peace, in hell, if they deserve it. 

Your lips formed into a thin line as you walked downstairs, earning the attention of six other men—probably living in this house—especially that big, scary-looking man, sitting in the middle. You recognized Felix, and the two who were standing behind the couch he was sitting at were probably Han and Changbin. They’ve got cuts and bruises from all the trouble earlier. Damn. And the rest, you don’t know. 

Everyone stood up and faced you the moment you got down, Seungmin gestured to you to sit down on a single couch to begin the meeting but you couldn’t even move. You were intimidated and yet they bowed to show respect. 

What the fuck is happening? 

“Please don’t be scared, take a seat,” The man in the middle spoke. You were hesitating at first but eventually gave in. It’s too dangerous to provoke someone this scary. “I know you probably have a lot of questions about all of this, but before anything else, I would like to introduce this family. I’m Bang Chan, the boss. You just met Seungmin, our lawyer, Felix is our Intel, Han and Changbin are our Capos,” Chan said, then he immediately gestured to the next person. “Jeongin, my apprentice, Minho the consigliere and Hyunjin, our assassin,” 

“A-assassin?” You spoke. 

You were stunned by how everyone has a role in this family and yet remained confused. Eight men with acceptable roles in the family and the one who took you away is apparently an assassin. He could’ve killed you the first time. You were deceived by that handsome face of his but who knows what job he has? A fucking assassin. It keeps repeating in your head. 

“Uhm, not so nice to meet you,” You said, you mean it anyway. “I think I don’t need to say something about myself,” You added, taking a deep breath to avoid being nervous and scared. Everything feels off in the first place too. 

“You don’t need to. We know who you are,” Chan said as you sighed heavily, biting your lower lip. 

“Okay, why am I here?” You asked. “Hyunjin mentioned something about my late parents. Did you do a background check on me?” 

“Yes, it is part of our job,” Chan answered, gesturing to Seungmin to hand you a file. “He may have mentioned you being the sole heir of the Godfather, Mr. F/n Jung,” 

“That’s fucking absurd,” You retorted. 

“It’s the truth,” Chan said firmly. “Your relatives have been tracking you down for years, that explains what happened and why you’re brought here.  All information about you and your late parents is in there,” He added as Seungmin offered you a thick folder. Licking your lips—your hands reached for the folder and flipped a few pages. 

The first one you saw was your profile, next to that were papers from the orphanage—articles about the car crash and the insurance money, your university application, land and property ownerships being signed by your parents, contracts, and other confidential documents. It took you a while to skim and scan everything. It felt surreal as if your life was written in a book—the missing heiress of a freaking wealthy family of gangsters. And now, some unknown relatives are coming after you. 

“I really don’t know anything, and so what if they want to own my parents’ property, I don’t care at all,” You said, firmly. 

“That is not what we do, Y/n,” Chan retorted. “Loyalty is important to our family and you have a rank in the Jungs so either they will let you live to rule for them or kill you to take everything you’re supposed to own. Your parents built that empire so you could have a normal and comfortable life but they ended up being killed in the crash many years ago. It’s a miracle that you’re even alive,” 

Then it made you remember—the crash. Suddenly, a child’s voice echoed through your memory as the sounds of ambulances were all over the place. The front side of the car was crushed as you sat there crying with your head bleeding from the impact. You were taken to the hospital and later found out that your parents died before they could get them out of the car. A social worker and a lawyer came by to assess your papers and live in an orphanage. It was discussed that you can get the insurance money after you turn 18. It was enough to sustain you and yet, everything still felt bitter. Your life was never the same after that. Maybe your life got a little bit better after you moved out and lived on your own. Yet it became lonely and sad. Having a job doesn’t fix a broken heart either. Everything messes with your head. 

No one from your family visited you because of the hatred. The headmistress didn’t even help you that much and the other kids were getting foster parents except you. It was tragic. You didn’t know what was wrong and longed to have a family too. Maybe Chan is right about one thing, you’re lucky to be alive but instead of living happily out of it—the sunshine turned into rain and the light switched off to dark. It was sad knowing no one came to your graduation or any parent-teacher meetings, no one would sign school documents other than your landlord. It was a fucked up life for you to thrive on. 

Tears suddenly streamed down your cheeks while looking at Chan. Felix caught it immediately and passed the box of tissues. You were surprised by it that you didn’t hesitate to respond to his actions. Maybe these people are not bad after all or they’re just being polite. You wiped your tears after taking a few sheets and massaging your temples. Being sober doesn’t help to indulge such information but you are getting there. You don’t need to drink again in the future. 

“You think it’s a good miracle, huh? Do you think it’s good to be alive? After everything I’ve been through?!” You exclaimed standing up from your seat but they didn’t flinch a bit, except Felix. 

“This is not the place for you to be emotional,” That was a damn red flag to invalidate you. 

“Y/n, calm down, take a seat,” Felix said in his most gentle voice, handing you a glass of water. “Don’t worry, it’s pure, not poisoned,” He smiled like an angel in disguise. You sit down as you take the glass and drink it, still giving that glare to Chan who has no remorse plastered on his face. 

“You and Hyunjin will go to his guest house first thing in the morning. No one will be able to find you there,” Chan said. 

“What?” You asked, shocked by what Chan just answered. 

“We have to stay here because of the Jungs, but we’ll accompany you to the island tomorrow. Hyunjin needs his day off too,” Seungmin said.  

“Yeah, he will take care of you, but don’t worry, we will make sure no one finds you so call us when you need us,” Felix interrupted. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked. 

“They owe us big time, your family is the reason why our parents died. All of us,” Chan answered, which made you caught off guard. So you’re not alone after all. “My parents were second to yours, Ms. Jung. They’re the co-founder of this empire but after being betrayed and murdered along with the entire family, the kids were forced to grow up in a secluded mansion, trained and studied—chosen to continue their legacy.” He added as he stood up from his seat and walked slowly around you. 

“It was a hard life,” Felix butted in. 

“Hyunjin grew up to be a shooter so I hired him as my assassin. Seungmin studied law, and he became the family’s lawyer. Minho is my advisor, Han and Changbin were trained to fight, Felix became our intelligence because of his skills and Jeongin is still learning from me. I was forced to lead an empire, Y/n, the Jungs are the rats. You’re lucky you didn’t grow up in this environment or you are already long gone,” He said as you stayed quiet. “Your family has a debt to pay and a relative to kill. It’s either you want to go out there and be killed or stay here until we settle everything with them. Your choice,” 

“I don’t have a family,” You answered as you balled your fists in anger. 

“We know,” 

“How did you find me?” You asked. 

“Felix,” Chan answered. “We have connections so when we knew you were alive, I sent Felix to spy on you,” 

“Stalking is my job but legally,” Felix said with a sheepish smile plastered on his face making you sigh in response. 

“I guess I have nothing to tell you about myself,” You said. “But if you’re going to keep me locked up, what about my job? My apartment? My laptop? The stray cats and dogs I’m feeding?” 

“The strays were already taken to a shelter. Your apartment won’t be touched but we had to get a few things for you to use and of course, your laptop,” Seungmin answered. “We have someone to replace you for the meantime in your job. But don’t worry, Mr. Park works for Chan Hyung yet he cannot let you work for your privacy,” 

“Unbelievable,” You sighed. “You mentioned that I’m supposed to inherit everything they own as what these documents have stated and yet no one told me. I don’t know anything about bullshit and my so-called relatives are after me to kill me so they can name these properties and businesses under themselves. Why do they need to dispose of me when I don’t know anything?” You asked. 

“The last page is the will of your parents,” Seungmin answered. “It got notarized by my dad. Unfortunately, he passed not long ago after your parents did. The Jungs have copies of the will so to be able to take the properties, they will kill you first since you’re the first in line, second is your uncle, their temporary boss. As long as you’re alive, they won’t be able to touch it,” 

“What?” You reacted. This is way too much information to take. Your brain is foggy from all of that drink and you don’t know if taking a shower would make you feel a bit sane. 

“These documents belong to you now,” Seungmin said. “So please understand that we can’t let you go out there,” 

“Why are you helping me?” You asked—head hang low. 

“We know it’s shocking to hear all of this in one night, but you are a crucial target,” Minho said. “We used to live in harmony once,” You nodded in response. 

“So your parents used to work for them?” You asked, looking at them. 

“To the Godfather,” Minho nodded. 

“Fuck,” You hissed washing your face with your hands with the folder laying on your lap. 

“It’s already getting late, we will continue this conversation tomorrow,” Chan said out of nowhere, dismissing everyone as they left for their rooms while you remained in the living room with Hyunjin taking a seat on your right—sipping on his glass of whiskey. 

“You’re not sleeping yet?” He asked. 

“How could I?” You asked back. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” 

“I didn’t say yes to this plan either. But it’s my job and the moment I took you out of that party, you became my responsibility. Call me your babysitter,” He smirked while drinking. 

“Shut up,” You said, rolling your eyes. 

“Go sleep in my room, you had a long night,” He said, standing up from the couch as he shoved his hands inside his slacks’ pockets. 

“What about you?” You asked. 

“I’ll sleep with Seungmin,” He said casually. “Let’s go,” 

You couldn’t sleep a wink that night even though you had to leave first thing in the morning. It felt weird sleeping in a house full of men and laying on a king-sized bed owned by someone you just met. You admit he is handsome and all got mad driving skills and loves whiskey, which makes your heart leap. Not to mention the kiss. What a bastard. He’s not as what you thought he would be, although you are so guilty of vomiting in his car he has the very right to be upset. But the thing is, you’re being held hostage. You also have the very right to be mad. Yet at the same time, their reasons are valid to keep you here. It explains why Han and Changbin got beaten up when Felix arrived way back at the party. 

The bed is comfy after all and you have a lot of information to process at once. It’s unbelievable to have this kind of life being kept a secret from you for years. Damn family affairs. 

**

It was already morning when you were welcomed by a loud knock outside Hyunjin’s room. It made you groan in frustration as that was the reason why you woke up. You had to make your way towards the door and open it while half-asleep. Hyunjin’s face was the one that welcomed you outside causing you to be wide awake. You admit you fell in love at first last night but it didn’t last long when you knew he was taking you with him somewhere you didn’t know. And now, you’re here inside their mansion, inside his room and he is standing three feet in front of you between the door of his bedroom. 

“Good morning?” You said. 

“Get dressed and have breakfast downstairs, we’re leaving in 2 hours,” He said, handing you a set of clothes and a pair of shoes to wear before he left. 

“Fuck,” You said under your breath and hurried to do your new routine. You packed your backpack shoving your laptop, the folder, and some of the necessities the guys had prepared for you from last night. Obviously from your apartment, how did they manage to have these?

Hyunjin went downstairs and headed to the dining room where everyone settled in. You were left out for a bit and rushed down almost an hour after Hyunjin came by. Everyone looked at you wearing that white top with a gray cardigan and white slacks. They wouldn’t deny the fact that you’re pretty and it’s their first time having a woman in the house. Chan cleared his throat making Hyunjin snap out of his thoughts after staring at you. His thoughts remained unknown but he was captured by your beauty although you are stupid. Being drunk Y/n, explained it. 

“Take a seat, my dear,” You heard Chan say. Felix saw how amused Hyunjin was as he smirked, teasing the older one the moment you sat down on the empty seat beside him. “Eat,” 

“You sound like an old man, Hyung,” Seungmin butted in making everyone snicker. 

“Shut up Seungmin,” Chan retorted. 

“Thanks,” That’s all you could say in between the conversation. What an awkward situation to be dining with them. 

“Did you sleep well?” Seungmin asked, turning to you who was just sitting on the other side. 

“Not really,” You answered, taking a bite of your sandwich. 

“That’s normal,” He answered. “I hope you’ll get used to us being around, we can’t take being separated unless there’s an important matter,”

“Really?” You asked. 

“Yeah, we grew up together under one roof, we’re not blood-related but we treat each other like brothers, family to specific,” You heard Han say. 

“Good for you guys,” You said. “I was alone,” 

“You could be family—aww!” Felix exclaimed when Hyunjin smacked him. 

“Y/n’s not our family,” Hyunjin said grimly. 

That made you look down and eat in silence while the rest did the same. Chan obviously didn’t care, Minho couldn’t even look at you, Changbin and Jeongin didn’t bother talking to you, Hyunjin seemed cold, and only Seungmin, Felix, and Han were a bit warm. You couldn’t blame them for feeling that way but you’re innocent with all these family dramas going around. You tried to be friendly despite the situation, but they couldn’t trust you and the same goes for how you felt. 

Why on earth did the heavens give you this life? 

You left the mansion an hour after having breakfast as Hyunjin was driving you somewhere. It was a different car from last night. The boys were having a convoy with 4 cars, 2 in each and 3 in the last car. You settled beside Hyunjin a few minutes ago with your things at the back of his new car. He might’ve disposed of the one he used after the little incident happened. 

“Where’s your car?” You asked. 

“I left it,” He said. “The caretaker will clean it for me,”

“I thought I was supposed to clean it?” You asked again. 

“We don’t have time,” He said in his monotonous voice. 

“I’m sorry,” You said. “Can I do something to make it up to you, at least?” 

“Nothing,” He said, making you sigh. 

“Okay, why did you kiss me last night?” You asked. Oh, so you’re finally making a conversation right now? No one spoke about it, not even Felix who looked disgusted when he saw it. Maybe because they were too occupied last night—it slipped away from their minds. Hyunjin also got upset about how things turned out as if he didn’t call you some pet name. 

“Do you want to see that man being shot in front of you?” He asked. Well, he has a point. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it, you kissed me back,” 

“Because I thought I was finally getting a life,” You argued. 

“I’m not sorry about it,” He smirked. Motherfucker. 

Your eyes met the scenery outside as you were drowning in your sea of thoughts. The so-called abduction, the intoxicating kiss, relocating you to an island? What kind of fate is this?  But He’s right, you liked that kiss. It made your heart go insane, he kissed you like a lover who finally found the love of his life when it was supposed to be nothing but a kiss between fucking strangers and it’s making you crazy. A coincidence even. At first, it’s just crushing on a stranger who turns out to be an assassin. Stupid Y/n. 

Hyunjin continued to drive but took a few glances at your gloomy face, being reflected by the car’s window. 

“My guesthouse is on an island that Chan owns,” He said, earning back your attention. “One can get in or out by plane or yacht, we need to travel there by air,” 

“Chan must be rich huh,” 

“He’s the pillar of this empire after everyone got murdered. All the properties are named after him,” 

“Ah,” You nodded. 

“The island is secluded so no one except us can enter. The roads are limited so it’s hard to do car racing,” He added as you continued to nod. 

“You guys decide what my fate will be,” You said. “I have no family to worry about me so I can be dragged around, besides, you got my replacement at work,” 

“Are you that sad?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Of course, who wouldn’t? Imagine you’re a little kid who grew up alone with no one to look up to. Then one day she lived alone to thrive for herself, got a job years later, and got abducted, witnessed a murder, and a stranger stealing a kiss all in one night for the first time she ever decided to go to a party,” You huffed. “At least you have your brothers. I don’t have one with me,” 

Hyunjin shut his mouth after that. 

“Look, this isn’t my plan on spending my days off. I’m supposed to be in Colmar,” he said. 

“Well, I’m sorry to ruin your vacation. As if I expected to be with you in the first place when I should be sleeping in my apartment the whole day because I have work tomorrow,” You argued. 

Hyunjin gave up. 

After a while, everyone parked their cars by the airport as you followed Hyunjin to the private plane that was prepared for the departure. Your hair danced with the wind along with the excess of your clothes. The others followed and you’re being stuck with them again. It was awkward that you decided to sit at the back as they continued their conversation. Felix saw you alone while Hyunjin slept on the other row. A smile formed on his face and decided to take the seat beside you, hoping he’d feel welcomed. 

You were just waiting to depart as your eyes fixated through the window and didn’t even notice that Felix was already there. He didn’t bother to take your attention in the meantime and just sat quietly—taking a magazine and started to read while you looked outside, not until the flight attendant announced the take-off. 

“Hi,” You greeted. 

“Hi! I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” He said. 

“Not at all,” You smiled. “You’re probably the only one who wants to be my friend,” 

“Force of habit, since I tend to gather information about you,” He answered while fidgeting his fingers. “We’re about to take off and it will take an hour to arrive so get some rest—poke me when you need anything!” 

“I will,” You chuckled. He’s cute. Not long after, the private jet took off and you stared again through the window. “How long do we have to stay on the island?” You asked, not taking your eyes away from the scenery outside.

“It would depend on how long it would take for the Jungs to stop looking for you,” He answered. “All of us won’t be consistent on staying there, it’s just that Hyunjin is the best one who can protect you since he grew up being a shooter. It’s easy for him to kill someone. I mean, we all do, but he’s the best one,” He added as you finally looked at him. 

“That’s cool. I thought he’s just another reckless driver racing on the road,” You answered which made Felix chuckle. 

“I mean he’s a skilled driver,” Felix said, making a pause between your conversation. “The thing is, our job starting from now on is to go in and out of the island, except for Hyunjin, of course. He’ll stay with you. It’s his guesthouse anyway, and the rest of us will take off the Jungs,” He explained. 

“Isn’t it dangerous though? You’re risking your life for a mere stranger like me,” You said. 

“Like what Chan Hyung said, they owe us and we’re not doing this solely because of you,” Felix answered. “And once they find out that you’re with us, which is what they already know because of last night—I’m afraid that you’re not the only one on the murder list,” 

“That means…” 

“Me, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Han, Changbin hyung, Jeongin, Minho hyung and most especially, Chan hyung,” Felix said. “If he dies, what will happen to us? To you? And with everything that our parents have left us,” That statement made Felix look gloomy as if the sunshine hid behind the clouds to provide rain and you’re standing somewhere without a roof—letting the rainwater shower you. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” You sighed trying to hold back your tears as you leaned on your seat. It makes you feel a sense of guilt even though everything is still new. 

“It’s not your fault. What are you apologizing for?” Hyunjin said still not moving from his position—arms crossed on his chest, legs gapped—his head rested on his neck pillow with sunglasses on his eyes. 

“Don’t mind him,” Felix excused. “He even kissed you without permission so I’m sorry about that,” He added when you just gave him a sorry smile.

“I’m not sorry about that too!” Hyunjin butted in making Felix sigh before turning in his direction.

“You’re being a jerk,” Felix scolded him as Hyunjin rolled his eyes inside those expensive glasses.

It was a new sight the moment you stepped out of the private area and headed toward the mini-airport, specifically built for this island. The family is filthy rich that you cannot even comprehend how it works. From afar, they look like a normal bunch of businessmen working together to provide a better economy for people to work but once you enter the circle and observe them, they only serve one master—the boss who is the brain of everything. They fight for the good although they use violence and crimes just to have a peaceful atmosphere. Being involved with them came to be unexpected. From a normal, innocent human being to a wanted daughter of a late criminal lord. 

It is the season of summer and everything happens in the blink of an eye. The night changed too fast—not even 24 hours. That’s what everyone says, you don’t know what is going to happen in the future. All eyes darted on you and they’re all armed. Apart from the brothers, there were also guards walking along as you headed to cars prepared to head to Hyunjin’s guesthouse. It was a big island when you got an aerial view as it was separated from the outside world. You were assisted when you sat beside Hyunjin as he drove away. The island is obviously surrounded by water which would be harder to escape. They don’t need surveillance cameras anymore when you’re on the loose just to find you. No boats, and planes to be used—unless it’s urgent. 

Being surrounded by water is a genius idea since it is already summer. You have the freedom to explore around and maybe read by the shore if the guesthouse wouldn’t be too far from the sea. Another convoy was set to travel heading on the limited road Hyunjin was talking about. You didn’t even expect that the guesthouse would be enormous just like Chan’s mansion on the mountaintop. 

It was located a few meters from the shore—surrounded by trees and a garden with a small pavilion for afternoon tea, a swimming pool, and of course, high walls and gates. 

“This is your guesthouse?” You asked. “It seems like a real house,” 

“Let’s say this is a vacation house where I’m supposed to relax, away from all the chaos,” Hyunjin said. 

“You even had an outdoor shooting range a moment ago,” You added. 

“Chan Hyung had it built 2 years ago,” He said, parking the car as soon as it entered the guesthouse grounds. “Your things will be carried to your room so feel free to look around. Felix will attend to you in a bit,” 

“Okay,” You said, letting yourself out of his car as you watched him going to Chan. They walked inside the house as Felix remained with you. The latter was smiling until his ears made you awe. He’s the only sweet one around. A total ball of sunshine. 

When Chan and the rest of his brothers gathered in the main living room while discussing the terms and conditions with Hyunjin, Felix got busy touring you around like a professional tour guide yet you couldn’t help but notice the gun being displayed on his belt. Everyone has. 

“Why do you always carry that?” You asked as Felix stopped explaining some things when you got distracted. 

“Oh, it’s for emergencies,” He said as you walked around the guesthouse. 

And while you were occupied, Chan received a distress message written on his phone. Han was alerted that accomplices from last night were already lined up in the shooting range after they were brought to the island and needed confrontation. Hyunjin stood up immediately and left the premises as he hurried to the shooting range, not far from the house. Everyone followed him which caught your attention and Felix’s. 

“Emergencies like that, probably,” You heard him say. 

“What’s happening?” You asked when Han came. 

“Felix, Chan wants you there. Take Y/n with you,” He said and ran to catch up with the guys—leaving you confused. You followed Felix out from the gates and headed to where they were.  It didn’t even take 10 minutes of the tour and now you’re standing here with them with those unfamiliar faces kneeling down in front of the brothers. You hold on to Felix while watching them. Those men have bruises, obviously after being beaten up. Their hands were cuffed and blood was dripping from their heads. If this island is only for the brothers, why would they bring them here?

“Baby, come here,” Hyunjin suddenly said, to which everyone was caught off guard. He was gesturing to you as he reached out his hand—fingers motioning you to come closer. 

“Baby? What the fuck?” Seungmin said in disgust. 

Your heart started to beat faster—of course, you remembered Hyunjin became your crush for a few minutes during the party, kissed you, and killed some people. Now you are not surprised if he’s going to have another shooting activity. Everyone was quiet and next to him was Chan with a gun in his hand. The others stood on the side, waiting for something to happen. This family never fails to make surprises within the first 24 hours, especially Hyunjin. 

It is breathtaking to witness eight handsome brothers wearing formal attire—either black or white. Hyunjin was wearing all black, from his long-sleeved polo to his pants and belt, silver rings adorned his fingers, and a black bracelet. His ears were pierced. You didn’t even notice how good they looked on him the first time you laid your eyes on him during the party. The broad daylight caused you a thorough observation. He’s so damn attractive. 

You didn’t notice you were staring at him for a while now that he turned to you—lowering his Versace sunglasses, cocking his head. 

“Baby,” He called again. You placed your hand above his as he pulled you gently closer to him. “Now, look,” He added, wrapping his left arm around your waist while pulling out the gun hiding on his belt. 

“What?” You asked, turning your eyes to those men. 

“They are accomplices of the man who tried to assault you last night,”  He said. 

“Are you going to kill them too?” You asked, trembling under his touch. 

“You may want to cover your ears for this, love,” He whispered as his hand covered your eyes while yours came to cover your ears. 

“How did you get inside the Park’s Foundation?” Chan asked them. 

“That’s none of your business,” One of them spoke when a gunshot was heard making you flinch. Hyunjin made you turn around as if he was hugging you, again. You buried your face on his chest, hugging him tightly. 

One down. Three to go. 

“You will never make us speak about the Jungs,” Another one said. 

“I know you won’t. We don’t need anything from you,” Hyunjin said, cocking his gun before aiming it at the man’s forehead, making the man flinch in response. “I don’t like people who meddle with my business. She’s mine to take, motherfucker. Any last words? Any of you?” It seemed like Hyunjin was worked up but managed to keep his cool. 

“Fuck you, Wolves!” 

Hyunjin pulled the trigger as continuous loud gunshots were heard through the island. You flinched at the sound and wanted to walk away but you couldn’t move, again. The same scenario happened twice within the first 24 hours. Why would they want you here?

“Dispose of them,” Chan ordered. “Take Y/n back to the guesthouse. We’ll investigate further of this,” 

“Yes Sir,” 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, turning to you while removing his sunglasses as he felt you were shaking from what just happened. 

“Y-yeah,” You stuttered while holding his forearms for support. 

You admit that was cool of him but who the fuck would shoot people in broad daylight?! And Chan too?! You weren’t sure about the baby call sign but it made your heart leap. It was unexpected of him to say that you’re now confused about what kind of treatment you are getting from him. It’s either he’s concerned, hot-tempered, nonchalant hot motherfucker, or what. 

Hyunjin doesn’t understand how he feels about you. Maybe he felt sympathy because you had the same tragic stories to tell. You are one of his rare cases. Maybe the first when he is supposed to be out there killing someone—just like what happened a few minutes ago. Felix came to take you back to the guesthouse leaving him alone on the shooting range, watching the guards cleaning up the mess he just made. Seungmin patted his shoulder before walking away—following Chan back to the guest house. It wasn’t even 10 in the morning. 

“Tsk,” And at that moment, he left. 

“I hope you won’t hate us for what Hyunjin just did,” Felix said as he made you sit on your bed. 

“They probably deserve it,” You said, hanging your head low. 

“He does,” Felix smiled. “But hey, don’t worry, we’re doing this to protect you,” 

“I know,” You smiled bitterly. “It’s just that, I wasn’t expecting that my life would change in a snap. Everything is new to me,” 

“I know,” Felix answered. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m not, I’m scared,” You sniffed, hugging your knees closer to your chest as Felix sat in front of you. 

“I apologize for making you witness everything of this,” He sighed. “We can’t do anything about it, Y/n. If anything happens to you, this rivalry will continue to grow,” 

“I know,” You cried. “Hyunjin and Chan don’t need to show me. I mean, I didn’t see anything but it’s scaring me,” Felix saw you shaking at that moment and hugged you immediately trying to calm you down. 

“It won’t happen again,” He added, hugging you tighter. “You should take some rest, my brothers and I are heading back to Seoul after lunch,” 

“What? I thought you were staying for a few days?” You asked, looking at him. 

“Can’t,” Felix smiled. “You saw what Hyunjin did right? We’ll do the same once we get back to Seoul. The Jungs are making offenses now so we better do something. Those men were brought here to be punished. Don’t worry, Hyunjin will take care of you and there are a lot of guards around. We’ll be back soon to check up on you,” 

And so, they did. You hugged Felix tightly before he could get into the private jet. Such a shame that you didn’t get to spend some time with him when he’s only the one who made you feel welcome and comfortable. The others didn’t seem to grow on you at the time and left after saying goodbyes and reassured that they’d come back. Jeongin didn’t say a word to you ever since you came—even Changbin. 

“They don’t like me that much, right?” You asked Hyunjin as you stood together far away from the runway. 

“You can’t force someone to like a person who you just met,” Hyunjin answered with his hands in his pockets, watching the jet take off. “But Felix is already fond of you and maybe Seungmin,” He added and waited for the jet to disappear from your sight. You made sure you waved at them goodbye even if they wouldn’t be able to see that anymore and Hyunjin was assumed. “Let’s go,” 

“Will you kill someone again?” You asked making Hyunjin to stop when he was about to leave. 

“Not unless someone we don’t know comes in here, or a traitor,” He said as if it were nothing. Well, he’s an assassin for a reason. 

“You scared me back there, and last night,” You said, making Hyunjin turn to face you. 

“It is my job,” He said. “I do what I am asked to do. Don’t tell me you’re thinking that I’ll kill you too?” 

“No!” You answered immediately. “Just… just don’t drag me again when you shoot someone. Even if you ask me to turn around, I don’t want to be in the actual scene,” 

“I can’t promise you that,” He said. “You won’t survive alone unless you know how to use a gun to protect yourself,” And with that, he started to walk away leaving you sniffing on the verge of tears. 

**

You stayed inside your room during the early days ever since you got here. Hyunjin only sees you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner and then you disappear. He often spends his time at the shooting range—still practicing his skills (you could hear them) or sometimes you see him taking a stroll by the shore alone, from your bedroom’s window. It felt like living with a stranger. Which it is, to begin with. You don’t talk a lot, no Hi’s and Hellos, Good mornings and Goodnights, just a single nod and silence. 

How could you talk to him again when you dislike him? After all that happened and he’s being a bitch sometimes. You can’t understand him either. 

Hyunjin didn’t even wonder why it felt like you were his prisoner who voluntarily locks themself inside when you’re allowed to walk around. Of course, he knew how you feel about him. One apology wouldn’t heal your trauma. 

It felt lonely for him—it felt different way back to how he was living with his brothers in Seoul. But he asked for a vacation and this is it, minus the fact that he has to watch over you and you’re not amused with the situation. No WiFi, just old movies being downloaded that are on repeat, no calls and messages, except for Hyunjin, and just a bunch of books being piled in your room, some are found in the main living room. It’s like spending your summer at a summer camp where you’re supposed to reconnect with nature but the difference is, you’re always inside your room and living with a skilled assassin. 

Your phone is useless, your laptop is useless, and you are helpless. Sleeping is not an option anymore. You are bored and you are fighting the urge to speak to someone. You can’t even trust the staff working around here, how come you think about Hyunjin?

It was a Friday afternoon when you decided to drag yourself out of that prison and made your way toward the gate—heading to the shore. You were wearing a canary long-sleeved polo and beige shorts as you walked barefoot with a book in your hand. Unbeknownst to your presence, Hyunjin was walking at a distance. You sat on a small bench letting the gentle sunset warm up your skin and provide the bright rays to let you read. It is just a random book that caught your attention while walking around the house this morning. 

You started to read while crossing your legs, letting the wind play with your hair as you flipped the pages. Words to words, sentences to paragraphs, chapters to chapters. Hyunjin saw you at that time and just walked past by. And the same scenario keeps on happening every other afternoon until one Wednesday afternoon, he finally sat down beside you—making you startled. 

“Is that book entertaining?” He asked. 

“Barely,” You sighed. “There’s nothing much I can do around the house,” 

“For you, but I’m happy I’m here,” He said. “A break that I need,” 

“Good for you,” You sighed again. “Why are you talking to me?” 

“Because I’m bored?” He asked, being unsure. 

“You? Bored? Beats me,” You scoffed. 

“I am,” Hyunjin answered, rolling his eyes. “You’re bored, are you?” He asked. 

“Obviously,” You answered, closing the book. “I don’t spend my free time that well without an internet connection,” 

“Had to cut it off so they won’t find you,” Hyunjin answered. 

“I know,” You said, looking at the calm waves crashing on the shore. “Those men you shot the other day, what was their motive?” 

“They work for the Jungs. The man at the party was a spy. They probably shared your profile with everyone so they’d find you easily,” He started. “They were brought here after it was revealed that they’re the rats and came to the party with him,” 

“You were showing off when you killed them by the way,” You said which made him chuckle in response. “And if I didn’t know what you do, I would have sued you when I get out of here. You even called me Baby and kissed me. It made my heart leap. You shouldn’t do that,” 

“Oh, I did?” He smirked. “I just don’t like my property being touched by anyone else,” It made you want to jump into the water. How could he say that just like that?

“I’m not your property,” You hissed. “I am my own person,” 

“Baby, as long as you’re here, you are labeled as mine,” He said without removing that fucking attractive smirk on his face before leaving you alone and walking back to the gate. “Don’t stay out late, sweetheart,” He winked before he could even go in. 

“What a jerk,” You said under your breath—being a blushing mess. 

Dinner happened quietly as you sat across from each other. Only the steak knife, spoon, and fork were forced to make sounds along with the glasses being half-filled with wine. You tried to focus on your food and yet Hyunjin’s facial features made you take glances at him. It was hard not to look at him—remembering the fact that you find him attractive, that actually became the case. The crush thing wasn’t that serious—it only faded after it occurred. 

Hyunjin pretended as if he didn’t notice how you looked at him and when he caught you staring, you’d look away. He smiled to himself while munching his food while your head hung low. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I’ve seen them,” You answered, shoving a piece of steak in your mouth. 

“All of them?” He asked, being amused. 

“There are only a dozen,” You said. “I can watch 4-5 movies a day,” 

“I guess it’s true that you’re a home buddy,” He chuckled. 

“I am,” You answered. “There’s nothing for me to watch anymore,” 

“A night stroll?” 

“Too cold,” 

“Read a book?” 

“I just finished a trilogy, I’m tired,” 

“Sleep?” 

“Hyunjin, I don’t have anything to do the whole day, what makes you think that I won’t sleep if I’m not reading?” 

Hyunjin eventually gave up.

“What do you want to do then?” He asked. 

“I don’t know…” You answered, making Hyunjin sigh. 

“Alright, we’ll figure out what else we can do,” Hyunjin said then it made you notice a sudden change of attitude.

“You know what scares me more?” You asked. 

“What?”

“I know you murder people as a job, and that scares me, but you being hospitable and nice, scares me more,” You said, leaning onto the table and making him laugh. That’s unexpected, he’s cute. His eyes disappear as his mouth opens to laugh. He’s like a laughing weasel, but louder. 

“I’m not a bad person, Y/n,” He said. “I don’t do shits without a valid reason, I kill criminals. Not civilians. If I’d been careless, I would die without a gun,” You didn’t say anything after that, but you thanked him for dinner, and just like any other night, you went back to your room. 

It started raining a few moments after you got inside your room. It’s the first time you have ever experienced such a phenomenon and it’s scaring you too. It was unexpected to rain that night with thunder and lightning—they were all visible from your window, knowing that you were facing the ocean. The curtains don’t help to turn a blind eye out of it. You can’t even sleep, not even a blink. It was also cold despite your navy blue long-sleeved pajamas. 

Meanwhile, Hyunjin settled in his room, finishing the bottle of wine from dinner while scrolling through his phone—the data is only limited for him and does not let you know his connection to the outside world. It’s better to be safe than sorry. 

Emails kept on flooding his inbox, some came from his brothers and others were invitations to parties. There’s one of them where his presence is a must. But that doesn’t take place in two weeks. Who knows what will happen before the party? He doesn’t even know how to entertain you after all that happened during the past few days. And just like how you felt, you are strangers living under the same roof because of your family affairs. 

Hyunjin sighed in defeat as he placed his phone along with his glass on the side table, preparing to sleep—not minding the roaring sounds from the sky when he heard a knock on his door. You are terrified of the storm and can barely sleep. Having the lights on doesn’t help when the loud sounds of thunder make you flinch underneath the duvet. You don’t usually feel like this when you are still living in the city but being placed into a new environment makes it hard to adjust. Especially when they sound like the shots being fired. 

“Come in!” You heard Hyunjin say. 

It was also a hard decision. No one in this house can be trusted and the maids and other staff were dismissed after 8 p.m. He’s the only choice. You hesitated to go in, but you heard him—he’s probably waiting and not expecting you to be there. Either way, you opened the door with a pillow in one hand as you entered his room, feeling embarrassed and awkward. 

“What do you want?” He asked as you hesitated to speak up—biting your lower lip, Hyunjin saw the pillow in your left hand and landed his gaze on your face, waiting to say something. “What?” He asked. 

“C-can I sleep with you?” You asked as you felt your cheeks burning. Hyunjin stares at you for a few seconds before the thought of it sinks in which makes him smirk. You realized he was wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants. His collarbones were highly visible, hair disheveled for what reason? And that broad shoulders, damn—his arms made you want to experience being head locked. “I can’t sleep with the storm outside,” You added, trying not to be distracted. 

“Are you checking me out?” He asked, making you shake your head violently. 

“Deny it all you want. I can tell that you’re lying,” He said, cocking his head. 

“Okay!” You exclaimed. “I was,” You sighed in defeat as Hyunjin scoffed. 

“Come here baby,” He said, motioning his head—lifting his duvet for you to slide in. 

“Don’t call me baby!” You hissed at him. 

“Then, I won’t let you sleep with me,” He said, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“No! Wait,” You said. “Just tonight though,” 

“Just lay down,” He ordered as you slipped in under his covers—hugging your pillow with your body facing him. 

His bed smells like him. That strong intoxicating perfume he had at the party and the one he had the moment you arrived here. It’s kind of soothing. 

“Don’t mind me and just go to sleep,” You said but there’s no way that Hyunjin’s going to ignore you. “Good night,” You added, shutting your eyes—covering your face lightly with the pillow. 

“Good night,” Hyunjin said. 

He won’t be able to sleep for a while. 

**

Morning came as the gentle sunlight peeked through Hyunjin’s window. It woke you up as you were lying a meter beside the window—fluttering your eyes open as you made a small stretch. The pillow you had last night was already lying on the floor and you found Hyunjin’s body facing you. Your hand landed on your chest, clutching it to stop your heart from racing. He looks innocent when he sleeps, like an angel—half of his face is buried in his soft pillow, like a dumpling being squished. A handsome and cute young man, with a great body, veiny arms, and a tattoo on his right arm. A wolf’s head? 

The sunlight touched his skin which gave you a more detailed observation of his features. He looked so good up this close. You wondered if he ever dated anyone. It’s probably hard and dangerous, knowing his career at that. 

You sat up slowly trying not to wake him up. The sunlight was directed to his face which made you lift your hand a bit higher to cover him. Your eyes didn’t leave him and continued to stare, not like a creep, but someone who is mesmerized by his ethereal beauty. His plump lips that you want to kiss—shut up Y/n. You already got to taste his lips. Fuck. His long bangs resting on his cheek down to the bridge of his nose—your fingers gently pushed the strands behind his ears. Hyunjin felt as if he was just pretending to be asleep. 

“You’re beautiful,” You said softly. 

“I know, right?” He said in his morning voice. Fucking deep, and hoarse. “Don’t lie when I ask you if you’re checking me out,” 

“I’m not,” You denied, cheeks burning from the sight and feeling. Hyunjin opened his eyes and sat up. 

“I said, don’t lie,” He answered. 

“I said, I’m not,” You denied again making him look at you and leaned closer, whispering something to your ear.

“You’re a bad liar,” He said and walked straight to the bathroom leaving you dumbfounded and red. Meanwhile, he heard the door shut when he was about to take a shower. It made him smile to himself. Cute. 

A few moments later, he found you eating alone at the dining table. A chicken sandwich and a glass of milk—it is a luxury. Hyunjin came in his white robe with his hair still soaked from the shower. It almost made you choke on your food—but okay. 

“You’re not going out today?” You asked him. 

“Good morning, Y/n,” He said, walking past you—settling down on the seat from the other side of the table.

“Good morning,” You replied with a mouth full of bread. “So are you going out or not?”

“Not this morning,” He answered, taking a bite of his food. “Why? Do you want me to leave?” 

“No. I’m lonely and you’re literally the only person I talk to,” You said, taking a sip of your milk. 

“I’m taking the cabin cruiser this afternoon. Want to join me?” He asked. 

“You have a mini yacht?” You asked, amused at how rich this family is. 

“Of course, Minho Hyung lent it to me,” He said as if it was nothing. 

“Can I go? Pretty please? I’ve never been on one,” You asked again with puppy eyes and pouty lips. Hyunjin looked so done with the expression and made a side-eye. But he doesn’t want to be bitch so there he goes. 

“Sure, you might die if I leave you,” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes in response. 

**

The afternoon sunset is the most beautiful scene on this island. It is breathtaking that you never get tired of looking at it every day. You barely witness this kind of phenomenon knowing that you work like a dog during the weekdays and sleep on your days off. It’s a waste of being alive not to enjoy the life of being an actual adult. 

It is indeed a nice place to spend your summer with a book in hand while in the middle of the sea and going with Hyunjin could be one of the best times you’ll ever have. You don’t know the rest and you’re not expecting anything good after that. He already hopped inside the cabin cruiser as you were assisted by one of the bodyguards. He said it will only be you and him to the sea while they wait by the shore. 

The wind got stronger when you settled inside as Hyunjin was driving it. Black high-waisted shorts and a white polo top, brown sandals, and sunglasses on the crown of your head—Hyunjin thought you were cute but he didn’t need to say that. You sat down at the back, admiring the view while feeling the summer breeze. It was a delicate warmth that touched your skin as it boosted your serotonin—almost making you decide not to leave. 

“Are you in for a swim?” Hyunjin asked. 

“No! I can’t swim!” You answered. 

“What a bummer!” He said. 

“I know!” 

Not after a while, you felt the boat stop in the middle of the sea as Hyunjin made his way toward the deck. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, standing up from your seat—taking your small bag (which holds your sunblock and an unfinished book). 

“Swimming,” He said and started unbuttoning his blue-striped polo. You had to look away before attempting to climb on deck. “Are you sure you won’t join me?” 

“Hyunjin, if I knew how to swim then I would,” You answered. 

“Suit yourself,” He said before jumping into the water as you climbed up—taking a seat on deck catching him rising above water while wiping his face. “The water is so nice! You’re missing out!” 

“I’m fine right here!” You defended, taking the book out from your bag and started to read, not minding how long he’d take to swim the entire ocean if he wanted to. 

He caught you taking glances at him as he swam around the boat while you were trying to read. The wind kept blowing your hair away as the book flipped its pages on its own. Your head hangs low as you avoid any eye contact Hyunjin would randomly give each time he rises—running his hands, brushing his hair upwards. Which is hot, especially with that body—that washboard abs being molded by the heavens—damn you Hwang Hyunjin. He never fails to make you blush. 

You managed to read a chapter without getting distracted but were surprised when Hyunjin decided to get back up through the swim platform, heading to the deck. He was soaked and droplets of water from his clothes and hair were making you wet, including the pages of the book. You tsked at the sight of it as he picked up his shirt with a towel at hand before sitting down next to the empty spot beside you while drying his hair. 

“You smell like seaweed,” You said. “Had enough of the ocean?” 

“It was just a quick swim,” He defended. 

“I read an entire chapter so it was quite a while,” You shrugged. “Thanks for asking me to join you by the way. I could’ve died in boredom back there,” 

“You’re welcome,” He smiled for the first time which made your heart warm. 

You didn’t know what to say after that and just let him dry his hair, not minding how he kept sprinkling seawater on you. But some things were bothering you at that very moment—his tattoo and the gang war that is currently happening. You haven’t heard from his brothers for a week now and you’re worried. Maybe Hyunjin still have connections with them but at the same time, you don’t have any contact with the outside world. You don’t know what’s going on as you sit there, watching the sunset. 

Hyunjin didn’t say a word too but he kept on making noises about how bad the seawater affected the smoothness of his hair. It became frizzy after all the salt it consumed. He hasn’t changed his clothes either and is still topless. You shoved the book back into your bag, putting it away as you sighed—eyes wandering around the horizon. Such a beautiful view. 

“Can I ask you something?” You started. 

“Hmm?” Hyunjin hummed in response. 

“What’s going to happen to me after you get rid of the Jungs?” You asked, looking at him as he stopped drying his hair. 

“That would depend on you,” He answered. “We kept you heir to continue the legacy and when everyone’s gone, it’s either you give everything your parents left behind to us and forget about this, or be part of us.” He added as you sighed heavily—looking back at the horizon. “It’s a hard decision since we dropped a bomb on you but still, it’s in your hands,” 

“Seems like a big responsibility, Hyunjin,” You answered. 

“You have a lot of time to decide, Y/n. It doesn’t matter how long,” Hyunjin smiled. 

“I wish someone told me sooner,” You sighed. “What about that tattoo on your left arm,” 

“Ah, this?” He chuckled, showing you a wolf’s head as if it was howling—imprinted on his forearm. “It’s an emblem. All of my brothers have one. We identify as Wolves since we don’t share the same surnames. It’s Chan Hyung’s favorite animal,” 

“Oh, so that’s why those men you killed called you Wolves?” You asked as he nodded in response. “You guys are cool,” 

“You think so?” He chuckled. 

“Yeah, and the other clan is simply Jungs. Basic,” You shrugged. “Did your brothers tell anything that they’re visiting?”

“Not yet, they’re busy,” Hyunjin sighed. “So it will be just you and me on this island for quite some time,” 

“That’s fine. I just hope they’re okay,” You smiled before standing up to get a closer look at the water. Hyunjin followed you, peeking down below where the anchor was. Then, an idea came into his mind where he playfully tried to push you off the railings making you squeal in shock, but his arms were wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. “Hey! That’s not funny,” You scolded as he laughed in response. 

“Your reaction was so cute,” He said making your cheeks heat up. 

“Was it?” You chuckled in response. “I would kill you if I fell,” 

“You won’t,” He said. 

“Oh yeah? Try me,” You smirked as Hyunjin let you go and started chasing you around, laughing at each other when you slipped because of the excess seawater he brought after swimming and fell. 

“Y/n! Fuck!” He hissed under his breath and dived in while you were trying to keep your head above water with your arms splashing and flapping around. Hyunjin caught you with one of his arms as the other one made the effort to take you to the swim platform at the back of the cabin cruiser. You were out of breath when Hyunjin took you out of the water—coughing in between. “Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry,” He said being worried as fuck. He didn’t mean to. 

“I’m fine,” You coughed, taking a seat as he sighed harshly. 

“I’m sorry,” He said taking an extra towel to wrap around your wet body. 

“It’s fine, Hyunjin, stop it,” You said, hugging yourself. “Thanks,” Hyunjin sighed again and sat beside you—taking all the strands of hair that were covering your face. You were watching him do it, not realizing you were staring at his lips and remembered how they felt when they were on yours. It was an intoxicating one. You gulped at the thought. He was also drying your hair, slowly twisting the water out of it when his eyes caught where you were looking at. 

“Y/n,” He called but you didn’t budge. You were too focused on how his lips quiver when he is worried and how they move when he speaks. “Y/n!” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, coming back to him. 

“Did the seawater clog your ears?” He chuckled. “You were staring,” 

“I’m sorry,” You said as a smirk painted on his lips. You felt his hands on your cheeks as he looked into your eyes, slowly leaning closer which made you freeze on your spot—closing your eyes just in case he’d kiss you. Your heart is racing again. What is happening to you? But instead of expecting a kiss, you heard him laugh instead, making you push him away. 

“Don’t tease me like that,” You sighed, not until he moved closer crashing his lips onto yours. 

Your hand reached his jaw as your thumb started caressing his cheek while you felt his right arm pulling you closer to his body. The kiss was so hot and intimate that you forgot about falling from the cabin cruiser and as Hyunjin deepened the kiss with your lips molding together, and your arms were already around his neck. Your bodies were pressed together—his plump lips were soft and warm, just like the first time but without the alcohol leaving an aftertaste. Your lips parted slowly allowing his tongue to slip in as your noses brushed against each other while tilting your head to the sides. Your heart never stopped racing. 

Hyunjin felt weird. It wasn’t like this during the first time. That kiss was sudden and no lingering feelings unlike what you have right now. Maybe it was how you opened up to him slowly the puppy eyes you showed this morning, or the fact that he once kissed you and that he couldn’t take you out of his mind even though he shouldn’t be feeling any emotions after that. He finds you attractive, that’s a plus—or was it the way you hugged him when you got sacred or the fact that you buried your face against his chest and hugged him while you were sleeping which you are not aware of? Or maybe that time when he woke up first and stared at you this morning and the other day when you slept in his room during the first night. It can be the way you looked at the party or how stupid you were when you got drunk, blabbering nonsense inside his car. He’s confused. 

He felt his heart racing too as you hugged him tightly, not knowing how many seconds that have passed when your lips were against each other. It was filled with astonishment for the both of you but it felt more than that, not until you pulled away for some air—leaving you all red and hot. Hyunjin was left hanging as he looked away. He thought it was a good move the second time. 

“I-I’m gonna go and change,” You said and was about to stand up when Hyunjin grabbed your wrist.

“You didn’t bring any clothes,” You heard him say. Stupid!

“Right,” You said, looking at his large hand, wrapped around your wrist. “Can you let go now? Dry yourself,” 

“I hope that kiss won’t change anything,” He said as you stood there. 

“I will,” You said. 

“What?” He asked, looking up at you. 

“My feelings,” You answered as Hyunjin finally stood up. “You did it the second time without warning,” 

“And that’s a problem?” He asked. Bitch. 

“The first one was,” You argued. “I mean…” 

“You mean what, do you like me?” He asked, grabbing your shoulders for you to look at him. 

“You need to try harder,” You said, locking eyes with him. 

“So am I allowed to kiss you even without permission?” He asked again, brushing some strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“You did them anyway,” You answered. “But I’m still not sure about how I feel about you. I’m still scared, Hyunjin,” 

“Y/n, you can trust me,” He argued. 

“I know that!” You sighed. “But let’s take a raincheck, shall we?” 

“I can wait,” He said, letting you go, and left for the wheel to take you two back to the island.

The awkward atmosphere came back as you two became distant again. It feels the same during the first days you lived together but with the knowledge that you two are interested yet unsure about each other’s feelings. Hyunjin came back to his usual routine by being in shooting range while you stayed by the shore every afternoon to read. No words were exchanged, just glances and awkward dinners. Yet, it wasn’t long enough that another storm came that one night. This time, more terrifying. The trauma that the brothers have left you didn’t go away even if Hyunjin was able to get inside your walls and be friends with you (with a kiss as a tip). 

You found yourself outside his room again, knocking on his door with a pillow in hand. Hyunjin didn’t even expect a lot of you to come here after what happened yet it seemed like the storm was getting inside your head. You couldn’t sleep—you couldn’t sleep properly ever since what happened at the cabin cruiser. It’s hard to go to sleep when your heart is racing, your cheeks burning, and having an unsure situationship with Hwang Hyunjin. 

He became vulnerable ever since he saw you that evening and it became worse when you slept with him, much worse when you kissed, and now this. 

He was wearing a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up onto his shoulders showing his muscular arms and black shorts. His black hair was messy and his eyes were tired from not being able to sleep during the past nights. Same reason though, but with more feelings. He forgot about himself being an assassin but a lover boy. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked as he stared at you, wearing that white long dress and barefooted. 

“Yes,” You said softly, closing the door behind you. 

“Lay down,” He answered, cocking his head to the empty spot beside him. 

You walked slowly as you reached his bed, lifting the thick duvet—slipping inside, and laid down beside him. Hyunjin just watched you move as he stayed still on his spot—sitting on his side of the bed. The wind is cold as it enters through his window being left ajar. His room was dim and only the two lamps from each side of the bed were the ones switched on. Still, you could see his handsome features which you thought were perfectly molded by the gods. A son of Aphrodite with a great body, almost like Poseidon. His eyes fixated on you as you were looking back at him. 

Nobody said a word—he wanted to, but nothing came out of his mouth. He became different. So different from the first time you met. He was a man who curses a lot and was hot-tempered, now he’s quiet and distant. This island is supposed to bring you two closer, that’s what you thought after being stuck here with him. But the thing is, the brothers brought you here to protect you—not seducing Hyunjin.

You weren’t used to it and that fucking kisses you shared were special—you thought about it a lot. It was immaculate, one of a kind. He’s a good kisser to be exact. It was out of the plan that you two should fall in love. But after days of having to deal with each other’s presence, apparently, you two grew closer. You just don’t know how to continue this relationship by ignoring the changes in the atmosphere. 

“Have you dated anyone?” You asked. That was a stupid question. Really? That’s the first thing you’re going to ask him? 

“Hmm, maybe when I was in college but it didn’t work out,” He said. “Nothing worked out, it’s too crucial for my job,” 

“So you’ve been doing this since then?” 

“Since I turned 20,” He said. “Not really long ago. Why do you ask?” 

“Nothing, just curious,” You answered as he laid down, covering his body with the duvet—facing you. “Were you sad?” 

“No,” He said, not breaking eye contact. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea and I’m waiting for you,” He added, reaching out his hand to caress your hair. 

“I gave it a thought,” You said softly while watching him. “I like you is an understatement. Everything happened so fast and I’m not sure if I’m being valid or not. You fall in love with strangers even without knowing their names, you hook up with someone you just met because you have a lot of feelings, and you’re reckless with someone you don’t know so why does it feel like you’re in a rush within two weeks of getting to know each other after you kissed?” Then Hyunjin stopped as a smile formed on his face. 

“Do you want it that way?” He asked. “Rushed?” You shake your head in response. 

“I want to date you, so bad,” You told him. “I’ve been lonely for a very long time and spending time with you made it bearable. I’m not used to having someone around and I’m not sure how to handle these feelings. I don’t care if you kill people for a job, you make me feel important even if it’s part of your job too,” You added as he watched your lips quiver as if you were confessing under the influence of alcohol. “I’m a newbie in everything, I don’t know how to have fun. I hope you don’t find me weird, I am stupid I know that but I’m thankful that you managed to put up with my shit the first time we met. I used to think you’re a jerk but you ended up being a different person to me and yet you’re still that Hyunjin I had a crush on that night of the party,” Then, his smile grew bigger as he started feeling giddy about it. He leaned closer to kiss your forehead which lasted for a few seconds as he pulled you closer to his body—hugging you tight. 

“Let’s not rush, baby,” He said as you buried your face on his neck. “But things will work out for us, I promise,” He added, kissing your temple. 

“You won’t let yourself be in danger because of me, right?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“I’m here to protect you, okay? Nothing will happen as long as I’m with you,” He reassured which made you a bit emotional. 

Getting attached to him in a short period is between a mistake and a good choice. Letting your guard down was easy but having to think about the consequences of this situation, you will either cry or suffer. No positive outcomes. 

“Just… don’t die,” You said, making him laugh in response. 

“I won’t,” He said as he gave you a peck on the lips. “I will kill them first,” It tugged a smile on your face. 

Who knew that someone you once thought a jerk and a murderer became dear and precious to your heart? 

** 

Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer than ever. You’d take a stroll by the shore before sunset and throw stones—the person who gets to throw the shortest distance gets to be flicked on the forehead. He would hold your hand—interlocking your fingers together as you swing them back and forth while taking a stroll by the shore on a sunny afternoon. Kicking sand, building sandcastles, or just talking with wine and whiskey for a picnic as you watch the sunset together. 

Sometimes he’d join you reading under the shade of a large tree in the garden where he lays his head on your lap as you read. There were also times when he would trash his space a meter away just to paint you while you were reading—or if you two got bored, he’d invite you to the shooting range trying to teach you how to use a pistol. 

“Focus on the target!” He’d say as you were standing meters away from the shooting target. “If you manage to shoot the red spot over there, then you’re almost like me,” 

It was fun—dangerous even. You were unsure about the idea but Hyunjin was persistent to teach you. He offered earmuffs and ballistic glasses for you to use. Your hands were shaking as the bullets hit the spots far from the red spot he’s been talking about. 

“Not that, Y/n,” He sighed. Hyunjin already taught you how to disassemble and assemble the pistol, and also elaborated on the parts, how many bullets to fit in, and how to reload. Now you’re here as he stood behind you—arms aligned with yours as he held your hands to take them into the right position. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he instructed you what to do and you tried not to get distracted by it. “Focus, love,” 

“I will if you’re not breathing on my neck,” You said. 

“You’ll get more than me just breathing on your neck when you do a good job,” He answered. “Now look at the target and shoot,” Then suddenly, continuous sounds of shots being fired were heard through the island. Even the birds flew away from the trees in disruption. His lessons lasted for days until you were able to shoot the red spot in the middle. A kiss would do as a reward. 

You’ve spent your days without the thought of what was actually going on. You forgot why you were sent here and being with Hyunjin felt like you’re finally having a life out of work. You didn’t mind watching the movies being piled on the coffee table all over again as the two of you would cuddle on the couch, laughing and crying from the same plot. I’d take you until 4 am and fall asleep in each other’s arms. He didn’t mind them at all—in fact, he enjoys his time being with you—which he is, in the first place. 

Kisses were given at random times. 

A peck on the lips when you wake up and before going to sleep—you two sleep together in his room now. He’d kiss your forehead when you fall asleep while watching a movie as he caresses your hair—staring at you as if you’re the most precious treasure in his life. Long kisses when you sit on his lap while you are talking about how your life was crazy as he’d stare at your lips moving nonstop—a hand on your waist as he tackled you down, hovering above you as he presses his lips onto yours, feeling his hot breath and tasting the recent drink he had. Bodies pressed together with your hand around his nape—his tongue pressed on your slightly parted lips leaving ticklish licks making you giggle in between, hearts racing and adrenaline rush. 

It came naturally. 

“Let’s not rush,” That’s what he said. It was crystal clear but you are acting like a couple during the early phase of a relationship. But that didn’t matter to you anymore. It felt rushed, that’s the point but who cares? After letting your guard down, it’s hard to stand up again. Hyunjin got you wrapped up around his fingers. One small argument would lead to a kiss and make-up afterward. That’s one idea of how you easily give up. 

“Love,” He called as you both lay on his bed on a Thursday night. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in response as your head placed on his chest, listening to his calm heartbeat while his arms wrapped around your back. 

“I got invited to a party,” He answered—kissing the crown of your head. 

“You’re leaving?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. 

“Yes but you’re coming with me,” He said, leaving a peck on your lips. “You know I can’t leave you here alone. We’re going home to the mansion,” 

“When are we leaving?” 

“Tomorrow morning,” He said. 

“That’s so soon,” You answered. “Are we coming back here?” 

“Depends,” He chuckled. “We can spend the night in your apartment after the party. I’ll make sure no one will know,” He added, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Okay,” You said, giving him a peck on the lips. A small smile formed on his lips as he locked eyes with you with his fingers tracing your bottom lip in an attempt for a kiss. 

Your faces lean closer as your lips meet—feeling your noses brushed against each other. Hearts racing once again and blood rushes through your veins. Hyunjin made you lay down flat on your back, meeting his soft mattress covered in beige-colored bed sheets fresh from the laundry. Your heads tilted on different sides as he hovered above you once again, with a hand on your cheek—deepening the kiss. His lips tangled with yours, feeling each other’s hot breaths sending electric shocks all over your body. His kiss felt different from the other ones you’ve had. It seemed hungry and desperate. 

Your eyes closed, bodies pressing together then a soft sound was heard from you when you felt his lips on your neck, leaving wet kisses and biting your skin gently. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as his kisses traveled down to your collarbones yet you could not still make eye contact with him. 

“Shh,” You heard him say before his lips met yours again to shut you up. You felt his fingers slip inside your shirt, tracing your bare skin—slipping them inside your heart-printed pajamas to your black laced panties while never leaving your lips alone. It sent butterflies in your stomach and it became worse when you felt his fingers rubbing against your wetness. “I didn’t do anything that much yet and you’re already this wet?” 

It was awkward, you that but how can you blame yourself? 

Hyunjin pulled away as he yanked off his tank top, revealing his physique—giving you a closer look. His legs were parted as your hips lay between them. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight which he finds cute. His lips met yours again, slowly lifting your shirt which you willingly let him. You started breathing faster against his lips when he started removing your pajamas, only leaving you with the black undergarments. 

He started sucking and biting your lips as he went back on tracing his fingers from your chest, traveling down inside your panties, feeling your wetness. You let out a soft sound as a reaction to his touch. His long fingers touching your slit are already leaving your mind blank. You are confused and don’t know what to feel. You’ve read about this a lot but never get the chance on having to apply it to yourself. His lips never left yours as you let him take your panties off, not a long moment after because he was annoyed with the feeling of the fabric—limiting his actions. 

He parted your legs as you exhaled when you felt his kisses travel on your inner thighs—it drove you crazy when his tongue reached your wet pussy licking and kissing it emphatically. Arching your back as a response, the sounds you make are like music to his ears. It felt so good and hot at the same time. His eyes were watching your reactions as your mouth gapped when started eating you out. Your hands traced his bedsheets, crumpling them for you to hold on tightly.

“God, you’re so wet,” He said as his fingers were dugged into your bare skin, leaving nail marks—slowly pushing his tongue inside. 

“Oh!” You breathed out, feeling his tongue inside your walls—your heart was pounding above rate as he never stopped pushing in and out. He felt your hand grabbing his hair making him go deeper with his tongue. It was a weird feeling as your toes curled at the sensation and you loved it. Hyunjin noticed you’re taking it well and he didn’t stop sooner. 

One of his hands slipped inside your bra, squeezing your breast against the thick fabric. It fits his hand well. His lips kissed your dripping cunt as he went up to your stomach until he reached your neck, biting down lightly—sucking it, trying to find your sweet spot. You felt his hands on your back, unhooking your bra and getting rid of it on the floor. He was amused with your body, it was perfect. It fits perfectly for him. 

“You don’t just have a pretty face, but this body too,” He said in between his kisses on your neck, leaving marks as he heard you moan. His growing bulge is pressing against your hips through his sweatpants. You were panting heavily when he found your sweet spot, causing you to curse him which let out a soft chuckle before taking your lips again. Your nipples hardened when his fingers accidentally brushed them after unhooking your bra—you whimpered softly when he pinched them, slowly pulling your sensitive buds just to tease you out of it. 

“Fuck,” You hissed under your breath. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. His dick is throbbing inside his pants, upon seeing you fully naked. Hyunjin pulled away as he shoved his sweatpants down on his knees and pulled your hips closer to his. Your face turned red upon seeing his hardened dick up close—you licked your lips biting it before seeing the smirk being plastered on his face. 

“Do you want me to continue?” He asked. 

“Please,” You pleaded.

Feeling the adrenaline rush, Hyunjin rubbed his cock against your cunt—feeling the friction. Your back met his soft mattress again as he slowly slipped his length inside you, hissing when he realized he was the first one to touch you. 

“Fuck,” It hurts, now he knows what to do. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he started to thrust himself inside out as gently as he could yet it caused your eyes to roll back—making sinful sounds. You gasped at the feeling as you were breathing faster. He brought his lips to your nipples as his tongue swirled around the buds before sucking them making you moan in response. “Oh, God,” 

He suddenly moved a bit faster which made you go insane. The continuous lustful sounds you make urge him to change his pace. Your legs spread wide indulging the pain and pleasure between them as tears started forming in your eyes—nails dugged into his bare back making red marks visible. Hyunjin growled in response as he went faster making you cry. His lips met yours again, devouring them like no other man could. 

Hyunjin sweats easily, making his bangs soaked from all the movements he did. His lips became hotter and plump than before. It’s intoxicating as you could taste your wetness in his mouth with your tongues tangled. He had to turn you around as you were on your knees with your face buried in the pillows—screaming his name feeling high when he started fucking you from behind. Hands tied on your back as your skin slapped against each other. One hand around your neck as the other one locks your wrists together. You are being railed for the first time. 

The bed was creaking and he never stopped. He loves it as you were taking his cock so well that it drives him crazy. Your screams were all over the place as you moaned his name repeatedly cursing along with it. But not long after, he started to feel his orgasm coming so close that he had to pull himself out—stroking himself before spilling them out on your back. You lay on your back again realizing his sheets were already wet. It sent butterflies in his stomach seeing you fucked up as you pant in exhaustion. 

“Are you good?” He asked, planting a soft kiss on your lips as you nodded in response. 

“Just tired,” You smiled. 

“Did it hurt?” He asked again, making you red as a cherry. 

“It did,” You sighed. “Did you do this before?” 

“Maybe,” Hyunjin chuckled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He said, kissing your forehead before lifting you as he made his way to the bathroom. 

**

“Love?” It was Hyunjin’s voice that woke you up after a deep slumber. The fact that you got tired from what happened last night made you fall asleep in his arms quickly. Sadly, you didn’t want to get up and stay in bed the whole day but for sure he’s going to drag you out any time now. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in response—fluttering your eyes open. 

“Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour,” He said softly as he caressed your cheek. His body was blocking the sunlight that entered through the window as he sat down on your side of the bed. It was a sweet good morning—the way you kissed his palm for a response while closing your eyes, Hyunjin’s heart fluttered inside. “I’ll have your breakfast ready, okay?” He added, kissing your forehead. 

“Okay,” You smiled. 

“Okay,” He answered—leaving the room, and closing the door behind him. 

You let out a heavy sigh and got up to do your morning routine then it led you to some thoughts. Doing things like what couples usually do and yet Hyunjin and you didn’t put any labels until now. You love him, that’s a fact. This is probably because of the things he does—maybe his job or whatever. It is hard to commit and he thought that maybe having a blooming relationship without any labels yet, could be considered as a reassurance that he will pursue you. 

Like what you said, like is an understatement. It doesn’t sort everything in place. Like is not enough and flings are just trash. 

You found yourself again at the mansion. Felix welcomed you with a tight hug and Seungmin plastered a smile on his face while wearing those glasses on the bridge of his nose which you didn’t notice before. Chan was waiting in his office and Hyunjin left you there with them. Felix had a lot to talk about when he brought you to the main living room. There were no changes for almost 3 weeks that you were gone. The same Seoul City where you grew up but the life you once had disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

Hyunjin sat in front of Chan’s desk as Seungmin placed a pile of papers in front of him. Minho on the other hand placed a small envelope on the top of it. Those were signs—signs that he had to go on a mission again and the party that he was invited to is one. They were discussing something important inside as Felix tried to entertain you. It feels good to have him around, you missed him too even if you just talked for less than 24 hours when you left. You also wondered why they didn’t come to visit you on the island. 

“So, how did your break go?” He asked. It wasn’t a break, for sure. It was called hiding and falling in love with his brother. 

“It was fine. I got a little bored but Hyunjin and I got along,” You answered. 

“I’m happy to know!” He beamed. “Ah, there’s a party tomorrow night. Hyunjin is invited,” 

“He mentioned it,” You answered. 

“It will be an ambush for sure,” Felix said. “That’s why we’re going too, unidentified,” 

“Felix,” You called. “My parents didn’t do something illegal when they were alive, right?” 

“As far as I know, they knew about the money laundering and corruption circling the city. Even illegal businesses such as human trafficking, exploiting endangered animals, and sponsoring people who use illegal substances. There are big names involved so they were tracking them down, unfortunately, your relatives support these crimes and turned their backs on the organization. They also knew about property ownership and businesses your parents ran to help big companies provide jobs, sponsor children’s education, and donate to schools and other institutions. But you know how this economy works right? There are big names on the list who put the money in their pockets and invest them in the black market,” He explained. “The Jungs wanted to take our properties away so they can make more money out of it and they’re planning to flee the country once you’re dead and take the money with them. Then these businesses and land ownership will be handed down to their right hands and just wait for a large sum of money to be delivered to their bank accounts,” 

“That’s worse, huh,” You sighed in defeat. 

“You have so much to learn once we get rid of them. You will inherit everything,” He said. 

“That’s a big responsibility, Felix,” 

“I know,” Felix answered. “But we’re here to help. Seungmin can make them yours one order away, he’s going to be your lawyer once everything is done, and Minho Hyung, your adviser. That’s what we do in this family,” 

That’s what we do in this family. 

That’s all the reassurance you need. Maybe Hyunjin, taking you here the night of the party isn’t bad after all. 

Meanwhile, at Chan’s office, the rest of the brothers have gathered. 

“There will be an ambush waiting for you,” Minho said as he sat down on the empty chair beside Hyunjin. 

“Felix got the list of names for the party the other day,” Chan added. “Those documents have their profiles along with the list,” 

“And the Jungs will be there?” Hyunjin asked. 

“We are expecting them,” Seungmin said. 

“Now, what do we do for this type of occasion, Jeongin?” Chan asked the youngest.

“Ms. Jung’s uncle will be there and the rest of his family. He got a few men to join him at the party. Some will be undercover so the rest of us will come unidentified,” Jeongin answered. “Ms. Jung will be our bait, so you need to bring her as your plus one,” 

“Good, and?” Chan asked. 

“We’re going to wait if Mr. Jung will take the bait. He will recognize his niece for sure. You just need to be alert, Hyunjin hyung,” Jeongin said. “Changbin hyung got the blueprint of the venue for the event, there will be surveillance cameras everywhere, however, there are a few blind spots so we can enter the venue without getting caught. We just need to blend in, afterward,” 

“The party is tomorrow night so we still have time to prepare,” Changbin said. “Our target is Mr. Jung,” 

“What about his men, the wife, and the kids?” Hyunjin asked, rubbing his chin. 

“Terminate them all, the wife and kids will be sent to another country, and they will be banned from entering Korea,” Han added. “Seungmin already prepared the documents to file a case against them,” 

“Okay,” Hyunjin exhaled. 

“Seungmin, tell Felix to bring Y/n here,” 

“Yes Sir,” 

The night fell as you were studying the documents Seungmin gave you inside Hyunjin’s room. Felix and he were there to explain everything and help you identify who’s who, their crimes, their work, who they work for, and what type of business they run underground. It was A LOT and it’s dizzying. 

It’s okay, you graduated top of your class and with flying colors, this is nothing more than your thesis and practicals. 

Hyunjin was nowhere to be found at that moment and you were just listening to Seungmin and Felix talk. It distracted you for hours until they left, late at night. Hyunjin suddenly appeared before midnight. He entered the room with a large box and a translucent garment bag with his black suit in it. 

“Where have you been?” You asked, standing up from the bed—approaching him. 

“Shopping,” He said, throwing his suit on his bed as he handed the large box to you. 

“You didn’t invite me,” You pout, making him leave a peck on your lips. 

“Chan said you were busy,” He smiled. “That’s for you, open it,” 

“Really?” It was a silver mermaid floral spaghetti strap long dress. Your mouth gaps upon seeing it as it looks more expensive than the dress you wore at the first party. It was silky as it shone when the light touched the fabric. “It’s so pretty,” 

“Ah, I know, I have the best eyes,” He said proudly. “I knew you would like it,” 

“I do!” You exclaimed. “How did you know my size?” 

“I read your profile, remember? I didn’t forget,” He answered as you kissed him. 

“Thank you,” You said as he stood there frozen on his spot making him a blushing mess. 

“You’re welcome,” He was flustered, yes and you find it cute because he is. 

Fast forward an hour before the party, the brothers waited for you to come down by the main living room. They were all wearing suits, all black as usual and you were nervous about how they would react when they saw you like this. Surprisingly, you did well in taking care of your hair and make-up. It’s always been like this so you study them yourself. Hyunjin was excited and the rest were anticipating—taking a deep breath, you reached the top of the stairs, slowly walking down on each step because of those damn heels. 

Han was the first one to notice you and stood up making everyone do the same. Chan thought it wasn’t bad, Changbin and Minho thought you were good while Jeongin was surprisingly stunned by your beauty. Hyunjin was about to go crazy leaving Seungmin and Felix noticed something, most especially Felix, he’s an intel for a reason and Seungmin can sense a special connection. 

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” Han said. 

“Thank you,” You smiled at him, feeling flustered as Hyunjin took your hand, kissing the back of it. 

“Charming as always,” He said. 

“Save you flirting on a later date Hwang,” Seungmin scolded. 

“Yeah, also, try to keep it inside your pants for the whole evening,” Felix laughed, making Hyunjin glare at them. 

“What the fuck?” He hissed. 

“We know something happened on that island but we won’t ask,” Seungmin shrugged as your lips formed into a thin line out of embarrassment. How did these guys know? Ah, yes, the guards. 

“Let’s go,” Chan said out of nowhere as they all obliged to take their way out. “Hyunjin, you know what to do,” 

“Yes, Sir,” Hyunjin bowed as he assisted you to his car. 

“What is it?” You asked, taking a seat as he locked your seatbelt. 

“Nothing, just enjoy the party—alright?” He smiled, leaving a peck on your lips as he started driving. “You’re aware that your uncle would be there right?” 

“Yes,” You answered. 

“Whatever happens, I want you to leave immediately. Jeongin will take you somewhere safe but as long as the party goes on, stick with me the whole time unless I tell you otherwise, alright?” He instructed as you nodded in response. “Good,” 

You and Hyunjin entered the venue while Chan and the rest of the Wolves parked a block away. It was to avoid being noticed by the Jungs as they used a secret passageway. The blueprint Felix had was helpful enough to find blindspots around the area, guns being loaded—hidden behind their blazer as they patiently waited to be used. 

Minho was right, there was an ambush waiting for Hyunjin and your uncle saw you with him unbeknownst about the bait. His eyes were checking the place discreetly as the other Wolves scattered around the area—exchanging voice messages to their earpiece and mics. Felix walked past behind your uncle upstairs as he was on standby looking at his precious niece and Hyunjin. 

“Target locked, he’s by the railings watching Hyunjin and Y/n,” Felix whispered to his mic. 

“Copy that,” Jeongin answered as he was standing by the counter. “Two men are here, they have tattoos with Jung’s emblem, Snakes,” 

“I got four men here by the pool,” Changbin answered. 

“Stay close,” Chan said, walking on a blind spot, cocking his pistol secretly as he observed Mr. Jung’s wife and two kids. 

“Hyung, I think we’re outnumbered,” Han said, walking by a group of guards who were obviously from the rival gang. 

“Fuck,” Minho hissed from the other side. 

“Hyunjin stay alert,” Seungmin said, taking a glass of whiskey beside Jeongin. 

“Copy,” Hyunjin answered, before turning into you. “Do you want to drink, Love?” 

“No,” You said, immediately refusing. “Remember the first time we met? I vomited in your car and it smells so bad,” You added, making Hyunjin chuckle in response. 

“Okay, okay,” He said. “I’ll get something for me on the counter, alright,” He added before leaning closer to whisper something. “You know what to do,”  You just hummed in response as Hyunjin left you in the middle of the dance floor, Mr. Jung signaled one of his men to come closer and whispered something before going downstairs. 

Felix stood behind them and heard the conversation, immediately sending a distress message to everyone. 

“Incoming to Ms. Jung,” Felix said. “He’s approaching the bait,” 

“Jeongin, stand close to Y/n,” Hyunjin said, cocking his head at the youngest as Jeongin immediately left. 

The moon is shining bright in the sky along with the luminous stars twinkling like sparkles. You stood in the middle of the dancefloor aware of Jeongin’s presence. The party is like a ball where the people who were invited are filthy rich—Hyunjin was invited because he donates money to fashion institutions and charity events. The host used to be a family friend but Hyunjin only came here for the sake of Mr. Jung’s undeserving life. 

The ball is glamorous indeed—it is the theme of the party, and the lights are dim as they rely on the moonlight and lanterns surrounding the dancefloor. It was packed. Most of these people are unknown to you and the only target you should focus on is your uncle. But then, he was out of sight. 

“Ah, cousin!” A stranger’s voice was heard as he came in your direction. You tilt your head upon seeing the person who became familiar after reading about the family members of the Jungs. 

Wooyoung. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked. 

“Felix, I thought Mr. Jung was going to take the bait! Not his son!” Han half-yelled to his mic. 

“I’m following him as we speak, he’s going to the basement,” Felix whispered in an attempt to follow the target without being noticed. “Send me Changbin hyung,” 

That came unexpectedly—Wooyoung has a big smile on his face right now while clapping his hands in amusement with two bodyguards behind him. Jeongin was alerted. 

“Hyunjin hyung, Wooyoung is here,” He said. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed, leaving his whiskey unattended by the counter leaving Jisung on the lookout. “Tell Y/n to go,” 

Changbin left his spot and went to follow Felix. The old man is becoming more suspicious. 

“You think it’s a trap?” Seungmin said from the other line. 

“They don’t know Y/n’s coming,” Chan answered. “Tell her to leave! Jeongin, take her away, and Hyunjin stall Wooyoung for a bit,” 

“Noona, we have to go,” You heard Jeongin say, which caught Wooyoung's attention. 

“Oh, you’re with one of the Wolves? I thought the only Wolf invited was Hyunjin,” He asked, being curious when he read all the names invited for the party. 

“Noona we really need to go,” Jeongin said again. It wasn’t even 10 minutes ever since you arrived and now you’re being asked to leave. 

“Maybe some other time,” You told Wooyoung as you were about to leave with Jeongin but he was persistent. 

“Hey, we have a lot to catch up on,” He said but only it would take a second to steal one of Jeongin’s guns from his belt, cocking it before turning around to point it at Wooyoung’s forehead. His bodyguards immediately took their weapons pointing at you, making Jeongin raise his hands in surrender. Wooyoung wasn’t amused but it was unexpected. 

“Leave her alone,” Hyunjin suddenly came out of nowhere pointing his pistol at Wooyoung from behind. 

“Hey, hey put those guns down! I just want to talk,” He said. 

“Where’s your father?” You asked, still not moving from your spot. Jeongin couldn’t do anything but stand still, whispering something on his mic. 

Meanwhile, Felix and Changbin were following Mr. Jung—it was out of plan that he’d be down here when he was supposed to take the bait. Not Wooyoung. Chan, Minho, and Seungmin came to join the party while Han started to look for Felix and Changbin discreetly. 

“I don’t know, probably somewhere,” He said with a cocky smile plastered on his face as he is currently surrounded. “You brought her here, so hand her over then nobody gets hurt,” 

“Bitch,” You murmured—raising your right hand as a loud gunshot was heard. 

“Noona we need to go!” You heard what Jeongin said. Everyone panicked and ran outside leaving you and the Wolves along with your so-called relatives. Chan and Minho shot his bodyguards as Hyunjin was about to take Wooyoung hostage, he suddenly took his gun out pointing it at him. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t realize Jeongin was already leading you outside the venue. 

“Wait, Hyunjin!” You said—letting go of Jeongin’s grip before you could even get out and go back inside. 

“No! Noona come back!” You heard Jeongin call but ignored him. 

You were welcomed by gunshots being exchanged as you hid under a table—you realized you still had Jeongin’s gun with you, checking how many bullets were left. This will be enough. Wooyoung already ran away as Chan, Minho, and Seungmin were left on the dancefloor, reloading their guns as they hid behind the bar counter. I need to find Hyunjin. 

“Fuck,” Jeongin cursed under his breath as he took the other way back to the venue. You looked around trying to find a blind spot so no one would notice you coming through—by taking off your heels, you hurriedly transferred to the table next to where you were hiding. Chan fired a shot and noticed you behind the guards. 

“Seungmin cover me,” Chan ordered as Seungmin fired with Minho. He managed to shoot one down as Chan fled the counterbar by hiding behind the columns. 

Chan followed you until you reached the stairs that led to the basement. You ran downstairs barefooted as you saw a glimpse of Hyunjin running to a hallway—probably chasing Wooyoung. Unfortunately, it was a trap and Felix, Han, and Changbin were held hostage by Mr. Jung who tied them into a room, guns pointed at their heads by the rest of his bodyguards. Hyunjin was also led to the trap. They were outnumbered. 

You couldn’t get inside and peeked through behind a large vase with huge leaves. Chan was able to grab your arm—pulling you towards a blind spot. 

“What are you doing? You were instructed to leave with Jeongin?” He asked, having his grip around your arm tightened as it was hurting. The way he stares could kill you as they were ice cold yet, burning of anger. 

“I can’t leave Hyunjin alone,” You reasoned out when someone from behind hit the back of Chan’s neck, causing him to pass out, making you scream in terror when they grabbed you to the room with him. “Let me go!” You yelled at the man but he doesn’t give a fuck and even if you tried to let go of his grip—he was too strong to pull you back again. 

Your voice was heard throughout the basement until you reached the room. You saw the Wolves kneeling—hands tied behind their backs as you stood there in front of them. They were surrounded and a man was holding your arm, preventing you from escaping. Chan was unconscious. Felix got a bruise on his forehead and a busted lip. Han and Changbin were also beaten up, and Hyunjin had a gun directed to his temple by Wooyoung as he licked his inner cheek in annoyance—blood dripping from his forehead, a cut at the side of his brow, a busted lip. What the fuck did they do? 

“Where are the rest of the Wolves?” Mr. Jung asked. 

“I don’t know,” You answered firmly. You could see your uncle having that smile plastered on his face while sitting down with a glass of wine in one hand. Fucker.

The only ones missing were Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin. 

“Find them!” Mr. Jung ordered. 

His wife was there, standing beside her bastard husband. It was a trap after all. The Wolves couldn’t say a word, but you are sure that they’re worried about what’s going to happen. Nobody expected this and you were dumb to follow Hyunjin, but if you didn’t, what could happen? Your eyes wandered around the area to find something to make a solution or a way to get out. But you can’t do this alone. 

Fuck, these are all walls and there’s only one entrance and exit. 

“After all these years of looking for you,” You heard your uncle say. “You came straight to the mouse trap,” He added as he stood up—walking towards you.

“Sir, we found them!” But not long after the chase, Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin were brought into the room and were forced to kneel beside the rest of the Wolves. Grunts were heard from them and after that, they were quiet, but their faces were saying that they were not happy with the setup. 

“Ahh, the rest of the orphans are here!” 

Motherfucker. 

“Your parents had a great legacy, too bad it was cut short because of the incident 20 years ago,” Mr. Jung laughed. “It didn’t hurt when my father chose my brother to be the Godfather when I’m capable of doing the business. Money was tight but cheers to the black market and soon, your properties and businesses,” 

“I’m not giving them to you!” You argued as he sighed in response while shaking his head. 

“I know you would say that,” He answered. “But let me make you a deal, each time you refuse, one of them dies,” He added, pointing to the brothers. “Who was it Wooyoung? Hyunjin is it?” 

“Yes, her boyfriend,” Wooyoung answered. 

“Ahh, you thought we didn’t know what happened,” Mr. Jung said. “I have someone who has access to the mansion and Chan’s private island. You thought you killed everyone from the party a month ago?” 

It was probably one of the guards. Sigh… come on, think Y/n, think. 

“Kill him,” You said, making everyone jump into surprise. 

“Are you nuts, Y/n?!” Seungmin exclaimed. 

“Shut up, Kim!” Wooyoung scolded. 

“If plan A won’t work, we have a plan B,” Hyunjin said the night before as you two sat on the floor with the documents Seungmin left you to study. 

“Obey them,” You answered. 

“Yes,” He answered. “My brothers and I have secret pockets in our sleeves so we can still use small weapons if we struggle—they will take you from us for sure and if we get captured, buy their time. We know how to act,” 

“Hold it,” Mr. Jung said, raising his hand. “What are you playing at?” He added, looking at you. 

“You said that every time I refuse to give you rights to my parents’ properties, you’d kill one of them, which I am. I won’t give it,” You smiled at him. 

Meanwhile, Hyunjin was playing with his zippo trying to get loose from the rope being tied around his wrists—slowly making a small flame. Minho was able to slip his pocket knife inside his sleeve and did the same—cutting the rope slowly for anyone not to notice his movements. 

“You killed my parents so I’m sure killing my boyfriend won’t make any difference. Shoot him,” You said, leaning closer to your uncle’s face—gritting your teeth at him. 

Your uncle raised a brow and seemed like finally getting the actual bait as he signaled Wooyoung to pull the trigger when Hyunjin was quick enough to dodge it—sweeping him off of his feet by swinging his legs to his ankles. The shot was fired at his bodyguard making the Wolves free from the knots, taking their guns out as they formed a circle—backs against each other. Unfortunately, the man didn’t even bother letting you go, instead, a gun is already at the side of your head. 

Wooyoung got up wincing from the pain in his shoulder after he fell. It was embarrassing. He picked up his gun and pointed it at Hyunjin again. 

“If you think you’re so clever to make them out of the ropes, you’re wrong, girl,” Your uncle said. “Any last words before I kill you?” He asked as he signaled the man to hold you tighter—your left hand managed to snake inside your dress as you hid the gun behind your back before firing the man’s feet making him push you away. After that, you shot your uncle in his chest before he could even react. 

Good thing your gun was hidden inside your dress, assisted with a leather garter on your leg. 

The Wolves started firing those men as Wooyoung ran away, his mom didn’t even make it out alive. 

Gunshots were exchanged, as Felix got behind your back, firing. 

“Hyunjin, get Wooyoung!” You heard Chan say, “We’ll cover you!” Hyunjin immediately fled from the room as he chased Wooyoung out of the basement, and back to the main hall. 

“You need to follow Hyunjin,” Felix said. 

“What about you guys?” You asked, aiming the gun at whoever tried to come closer. Bodies were already on the floor, some had the guts to hide and dodge the bullets from the Wolves. 

“We can manage, just go!” Felix commanded, making you exhale harshly, and left the room—running back upstairs, barefooted. You saw a man lying down on the floor before you could reach the top and grabbed his gun, checking if there were bullets left. 

“4 bullets?” You sighed as you checked yours too. “4, okay. 8 bullets will be enough,” 

The coast was clear when you got back up to the main hall. It was a mess, tables and chairs had been turned, holes in the walls and fabrics from the bullets, some of the lanterns were broken, even the huge banner. No one was there except you and you’re worried about where Wooyoung has been leading Hyunjin to. It won’t be the basement of course. 

Could it be at the parking lot? 

Lifting your dress, you ran outside to the parking lot not minding how painful it is to rush out of the venue without your heels—but they’ll slow you down if you haven’t got them removed. And you’re right, Wooyoung and Hyunjin were still there, holding each other’s gunpoint. You hid by one of those parked cars and slowly took your way closer to where they were. 

“It’s dumb how it took you 20 years to find her,” Hyunjin said. 

“They did,” Wooyoung answered. “But we needed a motive to kill her. Not just her being the first in line,” 

“She didn’t know anything until we told her!” Hyunjin argued. 

“You put the idea inside her stupid little brain,” Wooyoung said. “She was easy to kill before then,” 

“She will never give it to you,” Hyunjin answered with his arm firm enough to shoot him. You were able to sneak a few meters behind Wooyoung. Hyunjin pretended not to see you as he kept buying your cousin’s time. “Your father’s dead! She shot him,” 

“You Wolves killed my mother too,” Wooyoung retorted. 

“Your parents made us orphans. All of us!” Hyunjin said. “You don’t deserve the Godfather’s empire. It was built for a good cause and that’s not for you to make dirty. How does it feel to be alone now?” Hyunjin asked, cocking his head with a sly smirk on his face as you pointed the gun at your cousin’s head—shaking from anger. 

“You deserve to die,” Wooyoung said, clenching his jaw, and was about to pull the trigger to aim at Hyunjin’s head when a loud gunshot was heard, making him kneel on the ground—collapsing a few seconds later. 

Your pistol was hot as white smoke escalated from the hole. Hyunjin immediately moved away in case he got hit before you ran up to him—embracing him tightly. 

It’s over. 

The rest of the Wolves came to the parking lot after hearing the gunshot only to find you hugging Hyunjin. 

It’s over—it’s finally over. 

“Are you okay?” You asked—looking at him as you examined his face. “You didn’t get hit right?” 

“I’m good,” He said, hugging you again. “You must be terrified,” 

“No… but, I can’t believe I shot them,” You sniffed, burying your face against his chest. 

“Baby, you did good, okay? They’re bad people,” He answered, caressing your back—kissing you on the forehead. “Let’s go home, you must be exhausted,” 

“Are you guys okay?” Minho asked out of worry as you turned around to look at them. Felix seemed to be injured as he was assisted by Han and Seungmin. 

“What happened?” You asked, hurriedly approaching the three of them. 

“He got shot on his leg,” Seungmin sighed. 

“God,” You cried, hugging Felix tightly which made the man chuckle in response. “I’m sorry,” 

“Y/n, I’m fine,” He reassured, patting your back while painting a smile on his face.  

“Yeah, she’s fine, we’re fine,” Hyunjin answered Minho. 

“He’s dead?” Chan asked, pointing at Wooyoung’s body. 

“Y/n shot him,” Hyunjin answered. “And the rest?” 

“No one survived,” Changbin said. 

Everyone felt relieved that night except Felix who struggled to walk because of his injured leg. Minho carried him like a bride as the younger one winced in pain as they left for the car. You were tailing them as Seungmin noticed your dress got ripped and you were barefooted. 

“You’re a mess, girl,” Seungmin said, making you shrug in response—mascara being smudged. 

“I wasn’t expecting to be like this but thank you for noticing,” You chuckled, reaching out your arm as Seungmin smiled, letting you wrap your arm around his broad shoulders although he’s a bit taller than you. 

“Let’s go home, we still have a business to discuss,” You heard Chan say but Hyunjin begged to differ. 

“Hyung, can’t Y/n just rest for tonight?” He said but Chan’s eyes landed on the two of you and said; “Are you tired, Y/n?” 

“No,” You shake your head. “Let’s talk about the ownership,” You added, letting go of Seungmin— walking towards Hyunjin’s car making Chan smirk at him. 

“You heard your girl, lover boy,” 

“You got a fighter,” Changbin said, making a fist bump with Hyunjin making him cocky. 

“Noona stole my gun,” Jeongin sulked as he got inside Chan’s car. 

“You have a wall of guns in your room, a pistol is not that big of a deal,” Chan answered, making the youngest sigh in defeat. 

You all went home after that and let the cops get to the venue a few minutes after you left. The news was all over the place and all of Korea was watching. No names were dropped except from the Jungs who died. There will be no problems now—unless there will be another list of names to shoot. 

Meanwhile, everyone was inside Felix’s room as Minho was treating him—the man got a master’s degree in medicine. Unpredictable. 

“He’ll be sent to a hospital, I already called an ambulance,” He said. 

“Are you good, bro?” Han asked Felix who was obviously in pain. 

“Do you think I’m good, Han?” Felix hissed at him, making everyone laugh.

“Now, Y/n, time for your decision,” Chan suddenly butted in as he signaled Seungmin to hand over the documents you need to sign for transferring your names to the ownership. “You can leave this all behind and let us handle everything or you want to continue your parents’ business and be our partner,” He smiled for the first time. 

And without hesitation, you signed it. 

“The latter, Chan, I will work with you,” You smiled at him—reaching out a hand for a shake. The boys didn’t have the time to react that they were happy with your decision. Especially Hyunjin. 

“Wise choice,” Chan said, shaking your hand. “We’ll contact Mr. Park tomorrow so we can schedule a meeting, alright?” 

“Welcome to the family, Y/n!” Seungmin said, hugging you tightly. 

Family. 

You finally have a family. 

Hyunjin cleared his throat as Seungmin rolled his eyes, letting you go out of the hug. 

“She’s going to be my sister-in-law, anyway Hyunjin,” Seungmin said. 

“Shoo,” Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer to him. 

The rest of the evening was not a surprise anymore. Felix was sent to the hospital with Minho and Chan with him, while the rest of the Wolves were ordered to stay and rest. You found yourself on the rooftop wearing your pajamas. Sitting there alone as the cold breeze of the wind dries your hair feels so calm. It was a very long day and a very long night—you’re glad it’s over but you knew you still have a lot to do starting tomorrow. A meeting, negotiations and maybe getting a new job. 

Your life changed in the blink of an eye. 

The heavens finally gave it to you and it is more than you could ask for. 

A man who suddenly showed up and became the love of your life, a profession that would put a lot of things on the table, and the most valuable, a family. You’re not lonely anymore. 

Although there is still one thing to be finalized… 

“Love?” You heard Hyunjin’s voice as he walked upstairs to the rooftop. “I thought you were with Seungmin for notarization,” 

“No, he said we can do that tomorrow,” You smiled. “Sit here, we have to talk,” You added, patting the empty space beside you. Hyunjin sat down immediately as he took your hand, kissing it before he placed it on his cheek to feel your warmth.  

“Is this about us?” He asked. 

“Do we still need to slow down?” You asked him as he smiled gently, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“No,” He said. “You’re officially mine now,” 

“Can I say it?” You asked him as your foreheads rested against each other, Hyunjin was confused. 

“What is it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy but you think he’s more of a weasel. It took you a few seconds before answering as you made sure that the eye contact was still there with your hands placed on his cheeks. He was waiting. 

“I love you,” But instead of answering, Hyunjin pulled you to sit on his lap, crashing his lips onto yours—bodies pressed together as you hugged him around his neck with his arms around your waist. 

“I love you more,” He answered it between, breathing heavily as your lips collided against each other. 

Your heart’s racing again and so does he. 

It’s one heck of the night after all but, he is the best part of it. 

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[anixvl]

BITTER || Y.J

pairing: boxer!jungwon x detective!fem!reader

synopsis: Months after learning the truth of the real mastermind, you and Jungwon are left standing in the aftermath—scarred and unable to pretend that things will go back to what they once were. Just as you both begin to navigate your fragile connection, a new case arises—one that ties directly to your past. A series of brutal murders mimicking your late partner’s case resurface. The deeper you dig, the more it becomes clear: the original mastermind wasn’t working alone. Now, you are once again forced into each other’s lives, uncovering dark secrets while confronting the bitter unspoken emotions that still linger between you both. But trust isn’t easily rebuilt, and love doesn’t erase betrayal. (pt 2 of BITTERSWEET)

genre: Romance, LOTS OF ANGST, enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies trope, thriller, suspense

warnings: smut MDNI, oral f!receiving, d in p, lots of arguing/profanity, mentions of guns & blood, tears tears tears!

wc: 13.5k

a/n: hi!! there may be a pt 3, “sweet,” to finish off the series! but it’s still undecided, stay tuned <3

The rain fell in thin sheets, casting a silver haze over the city skyline. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, your jaw clenched as you forced yourself to focus on the road ahead. The familiar weight of exhaustion pressed against your bones, but it wasn’t just from the late hours or the endless cases piling up on your desk.

It was him.

Jungwon sat in the passenger seat, silent. He hadn’t spoken in the last twenty minutes, not since you begrudgingly agreed to let him come with you. His presence filled the space between you like a loaded gun—dangerous, tense, and ready to explode at any moment.

you hated that he was here.

you hated that you still cared.

"We don’t have to talk, but you can at least stop pretending I don’t exist,” His voice was quieter than you expected, carrying none of the cocky arrogance he used to wear like armor.

You exhaled through your nose, your fingers tightening around the wheel, “I’m not pretending. I just have nothing to say to you."

Jungwon let out a soft laugh—bitter, edged with something unreadable, “That’s worse."

You didn’t respond.

Because what were you supposed to say?

That you haven’t stopped thinking about him in months since that day at your house?

That every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel the way his hands had held you, the way he had whispered your name like it meant something?

No. You wouldn’t give him that.

Not after what happened.

Not after shattering your heart.

The GPS beeped, signaling the destination. You turned off the ignition and reached for the case file in the back seat, ignoring the way Jungwon watched you. He was waiting for something—for a sign, a crack in your walls, anything to prove that you weren’t as indifferent as you pretended to be.

But you wouldn’t give him that, either.

you stepped out of the car, rain misting against your skin.

The warehouse loomed ahead, abandoned and rotting at the edges. The call had come in this morning—a body found inside, the method eerily similar to the one that had haunted you for the past year. Your partner’s murder.

Your stomach twisted.

Someone was playing with you.

And you weren’t sure you were ready to face it, but ready or not, you didn’t have much of a choice.

It all started on that day. The day at your house, when you first found out the sickening truth.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Seokjin sat behind his desk, his usual smirk absent, his sharp eyes locked onto you. The air between you was thick with months of bad blood, with every accusation you had ever thrown his way.

"You’ve got five minutes before I throw you out," Seokjin said coolly, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand.

You pulled the flash drive from your pocket and tossed it onto the table.

"Play it."

Seokjin arched an eyebrow but picked up the drive, inserting it into his laptop. The moment your partner’s voice filled the air, his expression shifted—just slightly.

By the time the recording ended, Seokjin exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes briefly.

"He tried to tell you," he muttered.

Your jaw clenched, “I didn’t know."

Seokjin let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head, "No, you didn’t. Because you were too busy trying to kill me."

You didn’t react. He wasn’t wrong.

You had let your grief blind you. Let the pain make you reckless. And in doing so, you had been chasing the wrong enemy this entire time.

"I need your help," you admitted.

The words felt foreign on your tongue, but you forced them out, "I don’t know how deep this goes, but I know my partner died trying to bring it to light. And if they find out I know the truth, I’ll be next."

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, studying you. Then, after a long moment, he let out a slow sigh.

"So. The detective finally realizes she’s been hunting the wrong man."

You clenched your fists, “I don’t need a speech, Seokjin. I need to finish what my partner started. He was our friend. Help me take down the people who really did this."

A tense silence stretched between you both. Then, to your surprise, Seokjin chuckled.

"You’re lucky I don’t hold grudges, detective."

You arched an eyebrow, “That’s funny, considering you spent months trying to kill me and even locked me up."

Seokjin smirked, standing up, “Fair enough."

Then, his expression darkened, “But you’re right about one thing. Whoever’s behind this? They’re not just coming for you. They’ll come for me. They’ll come for Jungwon, too. Which means…" He extended a glass of alcohol for you to take, "We’re in this together."

You hesitated—but only for a moment. Then you grasped the glass from his hand, swallowing it down—sealing the deal.

Because this time, you knew exactly who the real enemy was.

And you weren’t going to stop till you were satisfied.

The warehouse smelled of rust and decay. The air was thick with something else, too—something heavier, something familiar.

You stepped inside, your boots barely making a sound against the cracked concrete. The body lay in the center of the room, partially covered with a tarp. Red pooled beneath it, dark and glistening, seeping into the floor like a stain that would never wash away.

Jungwon moved beside you, silent. He watched you carefully as you looked at the scene before you. He wanted to be there for you, despite your barriers. He wasn’t supposed to be here—you didn’t want him here—but somehow, he had a way of inserting himself into things you wanted to keep far, far away from him.

"Same MO?"His voice was steady, but you knew him well enough to hear the tension beneath it.

You crouched beside the body, your fingers ghosting over the cold edge of the tarp before you pulled it back. The sight sent ice through your veins.

A clean shot to the chest. A knife wound to the abdomen. The precision of it was deliberate, almost surgical.

Exactly like your partner.

your stomach twisted.

"This isn’t a coincidence," you muttered, "Someone’s sending a message."

Jungwon was quiet for a moment before he asked the question you didn’t want to answer, "You think it’s connected to his murder?"

You exhaled, standing, “I don’t think. I know.”

You turned to face him, and for the first time since you let him come with you, you let yourself meet his gaze fully. There was something in his eyes—something unreadable, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

It irked you how, despite everything, your body never failed to react to him. You hated how your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. Your shortness of breath near him. And the stupid, stupid, feeling of wanting his touch. You looked away.

"This isn’t over," you said, your voice steady.

Jungwon nodded, his jaw tight, “Then let’s end it."

The words should have been comforting. They weren’t.

Because ending it meant reopening wounds that had never fully healed. It meant severing ties that bounded you both together. And you weren’t sure either of you were ready for that.

The night was thick with silence as you walked back to the car, the dim light from the streetlamps flickering over the rain-slick pavement. Your steps were quick, purposeful, though your mind was miles away. Every instinct told you to push him away—push him far away—but there he was, walking beside you like nothing had changed.

And everything had changed.

Jungwon was supposed to be a ghost in your life, an ex you had buried with the pain and regret of your past. Yet, somehow, he kept finding his way back. Every time you thought you had moved on, every time you thought you could lock away the pieces of yourself you had given him, he tore through the walls again, leaving you wide open.

You tried not to look at him as you fumbled with the keys to the car.

"You don’t have to come with me," you said quietly, your voice betraying none of the turbulence inside you.

Jungwon didn't respond immediately, and for a moment, you thought he might listen, that maybe he was starting to understand the depth of your walls. But then he spoke, his voice softer than you expected.

"You know I’m not going anywhere."

The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind a heavy mist that clung to the streets, distorting the neon glow of the city like a mirage. You leaned against the hood of the car, staring at the warehouse in front of you.

Jungwon was beside you, his presence like an anchor—his silence louder than any words he could’ve spoken. He hadn’t said much since you got in the car. He wasn’t the same cocky, reckless fighter you had once known. He was different, quieter, broken in a way you couldn’t understand. And yet, here he was, once again dragged into your mess, whether he liked it or not.

"You can’t keep chasing this, Y/n," Jungwon said, suddenly closer, his voice firm, bordering on pleading, “Whatever this is, it’s going to end up destroying you."

“You think I don’t know that?" You turned to face him, your fists clenched by your sides.

“I don’t care if this is bigger than us. My partner died without receiving justice. The murderer is still out there.”

"And you think you can fix it? By yourself?" Jungwon’s tone was almost incredulous, but there was a quiet fear in his eyes now—a fear that you hadn’t seen before.

"I don’t need your help, Jungwon,” Your words were cold, sharp.

But they weren’t the truth. You did need him. You needed him more than you cared to admit.

Jungwon’s face hardened, and for a moment, it felt like you were standing on the edge of a precipice—one wrong move and everything would crumble. He stepped back, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stared at you with a mixture of frustration and something else.

Something you hadn’t seen in a while.

He was always putting effort in trying to gain your forgiveness. Always supportive, taking care of you, sweet gestures, affectionate phrases, he’s tried doing it all.

This was his breaking point.

"Fine," he said after a long pause, his voice low, “Do it on your own then."

But just as he turned to leave, something in you snapped. The frustration, the years of pain, the endless cycle of not being able to fix the past—it all came crashing down.

And suddenly, for a split second, you were the girl from months ago who was head over heels for Jungwon. Before the betrayal, before the lies, before the pain.

You grabbed him by the arm, spinning him back around.

"I need you, Jungwon,” Your voice broke slightly, but you refused to let it show.

"I need you to help me fix this. Because if you don’t, I’ll do it myself. And I don’t care what happens to me in the process,” your eyes glossed as tears begin to form.

You didn’t understand it yourself, you hated him being around but hate it worse when he’s away from you.

Deep down, you must’ve known, you’ve gotten to the point in which you can’t be without him. Not even if you wanted to.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jungwon’s guard lowered. He looked at you—really looked at you—like he was seeing you for the first time. Your eyes were full of desperation, yes, but also something darker, something you’d buried deep inside for far too long.

Love.

"You’re not alone," he whispered, his voice quieter and softer now, filled with something that almost sounded like regret.

He took his hands out from his pockets, cupping your face tenderly. You instantly melt into his touch, feeling your anger almost wash away. He looked into your eyes, searching for the girl you once were.

Back when you loved him so wholeheartedly.

"I’ll help you. But you have to promise me one thing,” he said, drawing soft circle on your cheek with his thumb.

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"Promise me you won’t destroy yourself in the process."

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. For a moment, you were quiet, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders. You didn’t know how to answer—didn’t know if you could promise him that. But in the end, you nodded.

"Fine," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll try."

Jungwon didn’t speak again, but his kiss on your forehead was all the confirmation you needed. You were in this together, whether you wanted it or not.

The morning after was nothing like you imagined. Inside your bedroom, the light through the blinds was dim, casting long shadows over the space. You stood by the window, staring out at nothing in particular, your mind far away, racing over the events that had brought you to this point.

Jungwon was still asleep, sprawled across the bed with his face to you. The sight of him, so vulnerable in sleep, made something twist inside of you. He had become a person you could barely recognize, and yet, something about the way he protected you—no matter how messy it got—still made you believe there was something worth saving.

But you couldn’t forget how you had gotten here. The anger. The betrayal. It all still felt raw.

You had been fighting this case alone for so long. And in the back of your mind, you knew—no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t do it without him. But that didn’t mean you would let your guard down. You couldn’t afford to.

When you turned to look at him again, Jungwon was shifting in his sleep, a low groan escaping his lips. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to even approach him. You had so many questions, but none of them felt like they mattered. Not yet.

You walked over to the desk, grabbing the file that had caused everything to spiral. Your fingers skimmed the pages, still looking for something that could tie all the loose ends together. There was too much at stake. Too many pieces missing.

"You really can’t sleep, huh?"

His voice was rough, but it was familiar, and it made you freeze in place. You didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, you stood there, still clutching the file, wondering how to fix everything.

"You still thinking about last night?" he continued, his voice softer this time, like he knew exactly what you were feeling.

You finally turned around, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were intense, but there was something unreadable in them. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, frustrated, or just tired.

"Yeah." The word came out sharper than you intended. "I need answers, Jungwon."

His gaze softened for a moment, and then his mouth twisted into a half-smile, “I know you do."

He sat up and opened his arms to you. The room felt smaller now, the space between you both charged with the tension that had been building ever since you decided to work together. He wasn’t who he used to be. But Neither were you. But in some ways, that was what made everything feel more real. You slowly made your way inside his arms. Your body instantly melted against him, feeling a soft, heavy, sigh escape your lips.

"You’re not gonna let it go, are you?" he asked quietly, holding you tightly, "You think I don’t see it in your eyes?"

You shook your head slowly, “I can’t. Not when I’m this close to finding out who did it."

He was silent for a long moment, and the only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioner. You weren’t sure if he was contemplating something or just frustrated, but when he finally spoke again, it was with a weariness that didn’t match his usual bravado.

"You know, sometimes, there’s no closure."

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you could feel the sting in your chest. You knew that. You knew it better than anyone. But that didn’t mean you were willing to accept it.

"You’re wrong," you whispered, turning to face him, "I can’t just walk away from this. If I do, I’ll never be able to look at myself the same way again."

There was a long pause. Then you felt Jungwon tenderly caress the top of your head, gazing at you with such intensity. You could feel the weight of his touch, warm and familiar, and it made your heart race in a way you weren’t prepared for.

"I get it," he said, his voice gentle now. "But you promised me something."

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat.

"You won’t lose yourself in all of this. You can’t let it destroy you. You can’t let it be your whole world."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could you promise him that? How could you promise him you wouldn’t burn yourself out chasing after a ghost when you weren’t sure if you could handle the truth?

But in that moment, you realized something. You didn’t know how to let go. And you didn’t know how to trust again. But maybe—just maybe—he was right. Maybe you needed to find a way to let the case be part of your life, not your entire existence.

You nodded slowly, meeting his eyes, "I know."

And just like that, the air between you shifted. There was still so much left unsaid, but for the first time in a long time, you both knew you were on the same side. Together, for better or worse.

The investigation had hit a dead end. Every lead you chased only seemed to open more questions, but none of the answers ever brought you closer to the truth. Every night, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, wondering if you were wasting your time, wondering if you had already missed something important.

Jungwon had been quieter since that night—still here, still present, but something had shifted. It was like a wall had gone up between the two of you, even though you were both stuck in the same place, in the same mess.

He could feel the distance growing. And that hurt more than anything.

Jungwon had spent the last few months trying to earn back your trust, be worthy of your love again. To go back to how things were, how much you loved each other despite the mess you both were in.

The touches, the gazes, the affection, the laughs, the nights you spent entangled in each other’s arms. He wanted it all back. More than anything. But it seemed the more he reached for you, the more you seemed far away. So close yet so far. Oceans apart.

He was done with it.

You pushed yourself up from the bed, throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys. Your room was suffocating, its stale air mixing with the heavy tension in the room. You needed space, needed to think.

When you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, a welcome relief from the suffocating silence inside. The world outside your room was just as empty as it felt in your mind. You walked down the street with no clear destination in mind, your thoughts swirling, trying to make sense of everything.

“Y/n."

Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, and you stopped in your tracks, turning slowly. He stood a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets, his frantic breath vaporizing into the cold air.

He had ran to follow you.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you just met his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You’re pushing yourself too hard,” His voice was low, his concern hidden beneath layers of uncertainty, "We need to step back, rethink the case. There’s something we’re missing."

You shook your head, “No. I’m close. I can feel it. I just need to find the right piece."

"You’ve been saying that for weeks!” he bursted, frustration creeping into his tone, “…But we’ve been chasing shadows, y/n. We need a new approach."

You were silent for a long time. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface was bubbling up again, but this time, it was mixed with something else. Something raw. Something you didn’t want to face.

"You don’t get it, Jungwon," you finally snapped.

"You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing everything, and you can’t fix it. You don’t know what it’s like to be constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering if you’re going to lose another person you care about!”

Jungwon’s expression softened, and he stepped closer to you, his eyes locking onto yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. He didn’t say anything at first—just let the words hang in the air between you.

And for a moment, you thought you might crack. You thought you might let the anger go and let him in.

But then the weight of everything came crashing back. You weren’t ready to let him back in, not when you still didn’t trust yourself.

You took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Don’t. Don’t say anything—Don’t do anything,” you stated, your voice trembling. Your eyes watered.

The words came out harsher than you intended, and you saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. But before he could respond, you turned away, walking quickly down the street, trying to outrun the suffocating feeling of being trapped.

You didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t want to push him away. But you couldn’t help yourself. You were scared. Scared of losing him.

Scared of what would happen if you let him too close again.

You didn’t realize how far you’d gone until you found yourself standing in front of the alleyway, the one where your partner had died. The sight of it made your stomach turn. Memories flooded back—his laughter, his promise that everything would be okay. The days he would accompany you to your parent’s graveyard. Your birthdays he’d make sure to celebrate, knowing you were too busy to remember. He might not have been blood, but your connection went further than that. You had failed him.

And finally, you let go. You squat to the ground, soft and frustrated sobs escaping your mouth.

So close, yet so far. It’s never enough. Why?

"You’re not alone."

Jungwon’s voice echoed in your mind, and you felt the weight of his words like a rope pulling you back.

You were so focused on the past that you hadn’t even realized Jungwon had followed you. You turned, startled, only to see him standing a few feet behind you. He wasn’t angry anymore. He was just... there.

He met your glistening eyes. His face softened. You got up, wiping away your endless tears. You looked away.

"I know you’re scared," he said quietly, "But pushing me away won’t help you. You don’t have to carry this burden alone."

You stared at him, your heart aching. You wanted to fight it. You wanted to tell him to leave, that you didn’t need anyone. But the truth was, you did need him.

You needed him more than you were willing to admit.

You took a step closer to him, your voice trembling as you spoke in broken sobs.

"I’m scared, Jungwon. Scared that if I get too close to anyone again, I’ll lose them. And I don’t know if I can survive that again,” you cried, slightly losing your balance from exhaustion.

He reached out instantly, gripping onto your arm. He pulled you close. The touch was soft, comforting. He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t need to. You could feel the understanding between you, the shared pain, the shared fear.

"I love you," he breathed out, his voice firm but gentle, "so ardently."

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe that. You didn’t have all the answers. You didn’t know how everything would turn out. But with Jungwon by your side, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could find a way through the darkness.

And that was enough for now.

Before you knew it, his lips connected with yours. Your hands gripped onto his jacket, the force of his kiss pushing against you. Your lips instantly melted into his. He kissed you with such longing and relief. He sighed against your lips, placing his warm hand onto your cheek. He tilted your head back slightly, deepening the kiss. Your eyes shuttered close, allowing yourself to get lost into him.

your heart fluttered, a familiar feeling that brought you joy.

He pulled away, looking into your eyes in desperation.

“Let’s go back home,” he said.

Home.

Yes, that’s where you longed to be. That’s where you are meant to be. A place where you share a space and affection with Jungwon, Home.

You were too busy to notice it before. You had it there all along. You were never alone. He was there. Every second and step of the journey. He is home.

You nod, a genuine smile plastered across your face. He flashed you a dimpled smile, one you haven’t seen in a while. He grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. He led the way back to your home, tightly gripped onto your hand.

As if savoring the moment, to make sure it’s real. Scared of letting go, as if you were to disintegrate with the wind. As if he was a threat of losing you any second.

You close the door behind you. When you turn around, Jungwon cups your face again, smashing his lips onto yours. You softly yelp against his lips, startled. You grip onto him tightly, closing your eyes. Despite being outside in the cold, you can’t help but to feel like you’re burning up.

Jungwon picks you up and you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, refusing to break the kiss. He leads you to your room, softly dropping you onto the bed. You both rush off your clothes, desperate and hungry for each other.

He hovers over you, kissing you passionately. Your eyes shuttered clothes, your arms wandering around his bare back and chest.

You needed this, badly. His touch, his warmth, his closeness to you. It had been a long time since you both last were ever this close, let alone this intimate.

“Missed this so much,” he murmured against the kiss, “missed you so much.”

His hand travelled down to your pantie lining, pulling it down slowly by its hem. You let him. His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking softly onto your skin, marking and leaving trails of him on you behind.

He unclasped your bra, sucking in the bud of your breasts. You moaned softly, closing your eyes in pleasure. He sucked onto the soft skin around your breasts, leaving more love bites. He rubs his fingers onto your wet cunt, plastering your wetness around his fingers. He inserts one finger in, slowly and almost punishingly.

“F-Fuck, Jungwon,” you breathed out, gripping onto him.

Then, he inserts another. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, causing your mouth to fall agape in pleasure. He watched your lewd reactions to him, fascinated by your mesmerizing beauty and pleasure given to you. His dick became hard at the sight of you and the feeling of you clenching around his fingers.

“Yeah? you want me to continue, pretty?” he teased, kissing you sloppily in order to muffle your broken moans.

“Can you take my cock now, baby?” he said, kissing your neck softly.

You nodded, a moan in response, “mhm..”

He took his fingers out, sucking onto them. He took his boxers off, his cock begging to be released from the tightness of it. He aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he breathed out, “so ready for me.”

And with that, he pushed himself into you. He groaned, as you clenched around his cock tightly. You instantly feel full. He starts to move slowly, waiting till you get adjusted to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he gazed down at you under him, so defenseless and in pleasurable daze.

He picked up his pace, his cock glistening from your wetness. You whimpered, gripping onto the bed sheets.

He leaned over you once again, using his arms to prop himself up. He kisses you as he thrusts his hips deep against yours. You struggle to kiss him back, causing a sly smirk on his lips against the kiss. He breaks the kiss, quickening his pace mercilessly. whines and soft groans come from the both of you, in a rhythmic sync, deepening the intimacy shared between each other.

It’s just as you remembered. Connected, interlinked, as if no one has touched you quite the way Jungwon has. No one else compares.

The soft moans of his name drove him crazy. It was like a melody, an addictive tune he could never get tired of. All he wanted was to continue hearing it, pleasuring you. Loving you. Consuming you.

He pounded relentlessly into you, his cock twitching as he approached his orgasm. You gripped onto his back tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“I love you,” he breathed, “I love you so much.”

Your body arched into him, feeling the tight knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

You wanted to say it back, but your mind was so fucked-out to build coherent words.

Instead, you just held him, tightly. You held his tender gaze, exchanging meaningful messages beyond words.

‘I know. I love you, too.’

His head rested on the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and hair. The scent of both of your bodies interlinked. The scent of him on you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, crying out in pleasure.

“Yes, oh, just like that,” you whined, “m’cumming.”

Jungwon thrusted his hips harder into you, hitting your spot with no fail. Your eyes shut close, mouth agape, as you reach your orgasm hard.

“Fuck, pretty, cum on my cock,” he grunted, thrusting slowly but hard, riding out your high.

His cock twitched as he released his load into you. Your legs quivered, feeling yourself recover from your hard orgasm. Jungwon kissed your cheek softly before plopping next to you, exhausted. You were both sweaty, tired, and still panting. His bare chest glistened in sweat yet he seems so attractive. You reach out to cup his face, he grabs your hand and plants a tender kiss on your palm. You smile.

“Do you want to take a bath or get some sleep?” he asked, moving away a strand of your hair from your face.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can walk right now,” you laughed.

He chuckles, “I’ll carry you.”

You nod, flashing him a soft smile. He gets up, sweeping you off the bed and into his arms. You hold onto him tightly, as he takes you to the bathroom. He places you gently onto the counter, capturing your lips softly. The kiss is softer this time, tender, and sweet. With a wet sound of the kiss, he breaks away. He turns around to prepare the bath for you. Dipping his hands into the bathtub, he looks over at you.

“It’s ready, pretty,” he said, walking over to you.

You climb off the counter, he holds you for support. You slowly get into the bathtub, Jungwon following. A soft sigh of relief escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm bubbly water. Jungwon holds you from behind, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder. You melt into him, allowing yourself to rest against his chest.

“Better?” he asks, kissing the side of your head.

You smile, “Much better. Thank you.”

The tension in the air had lessened in the days that followed. It was easier to breathe, to speak, and to be in each other’s company. It wasn’t exactly like how it used to be, but it was a step closer to it.

Every step you took seemed to lead you further into the web of lies, but none of the pieces fit. It wasn’t just about your partner’s death anymore. It was about a deeper conspiracy, something that reached far beyond what you had ever imagined.

Jungwon had been quieter, more thoughtful, his sharp eyes noticing things you missed. The two of you had spent hours combing through records, analyzing evidence, and following up on any leads that seemed even remotely promising. But nothing had connected. Nothing made sense.

Not until now.

You sat at the table in the dining room, your mind running through the reports in front of you. The scattered photos of your partner, the witness statements, the security footage that seemed to repeat the same things over and over again—until something caught your eye.

"Wait a second," you muttered, your finger tracing a line on the page. Jungwon, who had been sitting across from you, leaned in, his curiosity piqued.

"What is it?" He asked, a faint edge of urgency in his voice.

You flipped the page to a new report, showing the names of officers involved in the initial investigation. Most of the names were familiar—colleagues you had worked with, trusted for years. But one name stood out to you, circled in red ink by a source you hadn’t recognized.

"This guy," you said, tapping the name with your finger, “Officer Han Joon."

Jungwon frowned, “I don’t know him. Should I?"

"He’s one of the officers who was first on the scene after my partner was killed," you explained, your mind beginning to race, “But what I didn’t realize at the time was that he’s also been involved in a number of other high-profile cases that were later marked as unsolved or closed for ‘lack of evidence.’"

You paused, staring at the report, your pulse quickening.

"It doesn’t make sense. What if the rat is closer than we thought? What if it’s him, ‘someone inside the department,’ just as Hyunjin said?"

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he processed what you had said, "If Officer Han’s involved… that means someone in the department’s been helping the mastermind all along. Giving him the inside info, covering his tracks."

The weight of his words hit you hard. The realization that the danger you were facing wasn’t just coming from the outside—it really was also already inside the walls you had trusted.

"We need to get to him," you said, your voice low, determined, “We need to find out what he knows."

Jungwon nodded, standing up. He was already slipping on his jacket, his expression set, “We’ll need to be careful. We don’t know who’s watching us."

You nodded, the familiar chill of danger settling in. But this time, it didn’t feel like something you could run from. You couldn’t back down now—not when you were so close to the truth.

The two of you moved quickly, gathering the evidence you had and heading toward the police precinct where Officer Han worked. The building was busy with activity, the hum of officers and detectives moving between desks and filing cabinets. But despite the seeming normalcy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Every time you passed an officer, you felt their gaze linger just a little too long, a little too knowingly. It was almost as if they could tell you were onto something.

You and Jungwon split up, each of you taking different routes to avoid drawing suspicion. You knew Han’s schedule—he usually worked the late shift, spending hours at his desk. You made your way to the back of the department, where the file room was kept, the one that was usually off-limits to anyone except senior officers.

It wasn’t hard to find a way in. You had the right credentials—though they felt fake now, like you were wearing a mask you didn’t quite recognize. You slipped past the guarded door, heading straight for the row of locked cabinets where sensitive files were kept.

Jungwon had already hacked into the system, disabling the security cameras for the moment. You were in, but the clock was ticking. If Han showed up early, you would be trapped, exposed, and most likely caught. But you were running out of time.

You pulled out the files, your heart racing as you rifled through the papers, skimming over each one, looking for any clue that would tie Han Joon to the mastermind. You weren’t sure how long you had before the others would catch on, but you weren’t about to let that stop you. Not when you were so close.

"Found something," Jungwon’s voice echoed through the comms in your ear, and you froze. His tone was low, cautious.

"What is it?" you whispered, still flipping through the papers in front of you.

"Han’s phone records. He’s been in contact with someone outside the city. Someone with a criminal background. They’re scheduled to meet next week, at a warehouse on the outskirts of town."

Your heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was the break you had been waiting for.

"We need to go," you said, quickly grabbing the most relevant files. You didn’t hesitate.

"We’ll confront him. We take him down then, for now we need to make a plan."

As you and Jungwon raced to your car, your mind was already working through the next steps. This was the moment you’d been working toward, but with it came a sense of dread. Officer Han was one piece of the puzzle, alongside with other newly discovered suspects to investigate. But if you were right, it meant the mastermind was still out there, still pulling the strings. And now, you had a target on your back.

"Y/n," Jungwon said as you slid into the passenger’s seat, his voice low but steady, “We don’t know how deep this goes. We’ll need to be careful."

You nodded, bringing your hand to caress his cheek, “Of course.”

Tonight, you weren’t just chasing for the truth. You were fighting for your life. One you have found worth living for: Him.

Once you both returned home, you immediately went into inspecting all the files you took. Jungwon joined, as always, by your side. A few hours later, you had a list of prime suspects to investigate. Exhausted and evidently stressed, you slumped into your chair. You dropped the piles of paperwork onto the table, calling it a night.

Jungwon looked over at your tense expression. He got up from his seat, walking over behind you. He took a look at the paperwork you had. His hands gently massaged your shoulders, causing you to close your eyes in satisfaction.

“You need to relax, pretty,” he said, “you’re so tense.”

You keep your eyes closed, enjoying every bit of the massage. You softly moaned in satisfaction, a signal for him to continue. His mouth curled into a sly smirk. He leaned over to your neck, placing soft kisses from behind. Slow, sensual, deliberate.

“Jungwon,” you breathed out.

“yes, baby?” he whispered, walking over to lift you onto the table.

You open your eyes, startled. Before you can question him, he positions himself between your legs, his hands resting onto your waist. He kisses you, gently. You kiss him back, lazily, your exhaustion getting the best of you.

“Let me take care of you,” he offered, “just relax, okay?”

You don’t protest, instead you just nod. His hands pull onto the hem of your pants, pulling them off. He plays with the hem of your panties, before taking those off, too.

Too sleepy and in daze, you didn’t realize what was happening till your panties were on the floor. Your eyes widen slightly in realization. But it was already too late.

“Jungwon, wait—”

He takes a few long, slow, wet licks onto your cunt. You bit back a moan, gripping onto the table. He pushed open your legs apart, opening you up on display on the dining table like a meal. Then, he enfolds your cunt into his mouth. You moan, gripping onto his hair. Wet slurping sounds and the sound of your whines fill the room.

“ngh…jungwon,” you moaned.

He looked up at you, meeting your sultry expression. He swears he could cum at the sight of you like this. His tongue sloppily glides onto your cunt, sucking and flicking your bean. Your legs tremble, your breath is rigid.

“Feels so good,” you whimpered.

Jungwon stuffed his face deeper, savoring and devouring all your juices like a starved man. He needed more of you. All of you.

He pushed you onto your back, forcing you to lay on top of all the paperwork. Now propped open on the dining table, Jungwon ate you out passionately.

Your legs shifted uncontrollably, your hands laced within his hair. Insistent moans slipped from your mouth, instinctively pushing his head further into your cunt.

Jungwon wrapped his arms around your thighs, deepening his tongue into your cunt. Wetness dripped from his chin from his sloppy mess on your cunt.

“I’m—ngh,” you fisted his hair, pushing him closer as you approached your orgasm.

Your back arched into him, no longer caring a bit about the time you spent organizing the paperwork on the table.

And then, finally, with a loud gasp the knot in your stomach came undone. Your breathing was rigid, your body trembling from the ecstasy.

Jungwon smirked, wiping away the wetness from his chin.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he whispered, grabbing you from the table and tossing you over his shoulder.

You yelped in surprise, holding onto him. He gently dropped you onto the bed sheets, in which he tucked you into. It wasn’t long before he got under the covers, enfolding you into his arms. You melted in his arms, the rhythm of his heartbeat bringing a sense of calming to you. You inhaled his scent, as if memorizing it by heart. You both drifted off to sleep, entangled into each other’s arms. And even during the night, when you would quietly jerk awake from nightmares, you couldn’t help but to think.

‘I don’t want this to end,’ you thought.

‘I want to be selfish. I want to pursue this stupid dream with just the both of us.’

You could feel it in your bones, with every breath you took: the guilt. Could it really work out?

Could you really be happy, be selfish for once and have it all?

The past still crept up on you, even when you told yourself it was time to let go. Jungwon had started to repair your broken heart, putting back the pieces. Slowly, but surely.

You wanted to be selfish. You wanted to let your guard down. You deserved it.

But despite it all; it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.

it started with a lie.

Or maybe it started long before that—with the wounds they never let heal, with the trust you both never fully rebuilt. Either way, by the time you found out, it was already too late.

You stormed into your apartment, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the walls. Jungwon barely had time to react before you threw a crumpled piece of paper onto the table between you both.

"What the hell is this?" you demanded.

Jungwon frowned, picking it up. His chest tightened the second he saw what it was—a file, fresh off the precinct database, detailing an anonymous payment wired to a key witness in their case. One that was meant to be there at the meeting spot you figured out. But, now that Jungwon approached him, the key witness must’ve snitched on you and fled with the money by now. It was a dumb mistake: a fatal one.

Blood drained from his face.

You saw it.

"You bribed him?" you spat, your voice laced with disbelief and something far painful, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

Jungwon exhaled, running a hand through his hair, "It wasn’t a bribe, y/n. You needed answers, and you were slowly becoming miserable without them. I couldn’t see you like that. And he wasn’t going to talk unless he had a reason to."

"So you threw money at him?" You let out a humorless laugh, "Great. That’s real reliable evidence."

‘Just an arrogant rich boy,’ you thought. You hated the selfish actions of him, which he carelessly does because he knows he can do them. With no worry, no thought. Because he has people to protect him, money to support him, and higher-ups to keep him out of trouble. You hated how low he stooped.

Doesn’t that make him equal to who you’re going after?

Jungwon’s jaw clenched, “I did what I had to do."

"No," you shot back, stepping closer, your eyes burning with rage, "You did what you wanted to do, without telling me. Without even thinking about the consequences."

Jungwon’s patience snapped, “And what the hell have you been doing, y/n? Losing yourself over this?You put a gun to my fucking head to force me into this shit, but now you’re acting like you’re the only one allowed to make choices?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, "I didn’t blackmail you for fun, Jungwon. I needed help—I needed someone I could trust."

Your voice broke slightly on the last word.

And that was what did it.

Because you had trusted him. And now, here you both were, in the same cycle of betrayal, the same aching disappointment.

Jungwon felt his pulse hammering in his skull. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell you that it hadn’t been about secrecy, or control, or hurting you. He just wanted to end this war before it destroyed you both. But most importantly, you.

It’s always been about you.

But instead, the words that left his mouth were the wrong ones.

"Maybe I never should have come back."

And just like that, whatever fragile thread had been holding you both together—snapped.

Silence crashed over the room like a violent wave, drowning everything in it.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. For a second, just a split second, he saw something in your eyes—something that almost looked like hurt. But then it was gone, replaced by cold, hard indifference.

You let out a short, humorless laugh, “Then go."

Jungwon clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply. He hadn’t meant it. Not like that. But the damage was already done, and you…

you weren’t the type to let a wound fester without striking back.

"You know what’s funny?" you said, stepping closer, her voice smooth, lethal.

“I used to think i needed you,” you said.

Jungwon’s heart slammed against his ribs.

"Y/n—"

"I thought that maybe—just maybe—you could make up for the way you left, for the way you let me fall apart alone,” your lips curled into something cold, something sharp, “But I should’ve known better. You were always good at running, weren’t you?"

His fists tightened, “You think I wanted to leave you?!" His voice came out raw, splintered.

“you think it was easy for me?” he stated.

"I don’t give a damn if it was easy," you snapped, "You still did it."

Jungwon let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, "And you haven’t forgiven me since."

"Why should I?" you shot back, eyes burning with something dangerously close to fury, "You don’t deserve my forgiveness, Jungwon."

His breath caught.

And then, softer—deadlier— "You never did."

He didn’t know why it hurt so much. Maybe because deep down, he had been clinging to the idea that if he fought hard enough, you would let him back in. That if he proved himself, if he stayed this time, you would finally let yourself forgive him.

But maybe that had never been an option.

Maybe, he had been chasing your ghost this entire time.

Maybe, he had been a fool to think he still had a chance.

Jungwon exhaled slowly, his expression hardening,

"Then maybe I should stop trying."

Something flickered in your gaze, but before he could figure out what it was, he turned away, walking toward the door.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t look back.

Your hands instinctively reached out for him, yet no words could come out of your mouth. Your hand fell back to your side at the sound of the front door slam. A unspoken sign of goodbye. And before you knew it, tears spilled from your eyes. It was a piercing feeling, a suffocating one. And before you knew it, you were sobbing on the living room floor. Where he had left you.

And for the first time since he came back into your life, You finally let yourself wonder—

Maybe you really had lost him for good.

He didn’t show up at your house anymore. The house was void, uncomfortably silent, and suffocating. The bedroom in which you would once walk in to find him already sprawled onto your bed, was empty. Intact, just as you left it. The bedroom was tidy, just as you had done it in the morning—a painful reminder that he was no longer here.

Only the smell of him lingered in the air. Along with his soothing voice, the one that hummed you to sleep when you were tormented at night.

But things didn’t stop there.

After many days had passed and the day of the secret meeting approached, you wondered if Jungwon would come find you at all. To accompany you, like he always would. You quickly resigned the idea, forcing yourself to grasp that he’s gone. Permanently.

But as you made your way out of your bedroom, you heard the sound of the front door open.

And then, somehow, it started all over again.

"…You’re not even thinking straight!" Jungwon’s voice echoed through the living room, raw with frustration.

“You’re so desperate to chase ghosts, you don’t even care if it gets you killed!" He continued.

You slammed the case file onto the table, papers scattering across the surface, “Don’t act like you give a shit, Jungwon. You didn’t care when you walked away the first time, so don’t pretend now."

His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides, "You think I didn’t care? You think leaving didn’t fucking kill me?"

"You still did it.”

The words cut deep, sharper than any knife, and you saw the way they hit him—the way they hurt. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. The anger was still fresh, the resentment of his betrayal.

"You had a choice, Jungwon," you continued, voice laced with anger and something dangerously close to heartbreak, "And you chose to walk away. So don’t stand here and act like you have a right to tell me what to do now."

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, “y/n, I didn’t—" He stopped, shaking his head, as if even he didn’t know how to explain himself.

“You wanted me to stay, but for what? To watch you destroy yourself over something you couldn’t fix?"

"It wasn’t your decision to make,” you retaliated.

Jungwon let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer—too close, “And this?"

His voice dropped lower, "Dragging me back into your war? This was my decision to make?"

You felt the heat between them, thick and suffocating.

"You owe me," you said, your voice dangerously sharp, laced with pain and rage.

Jungwon’s eyes darkened, “I owe you?"

You lifted your chin, refusing to back down, "You let me believe I was alone. You gave me over, locked me up in your basement! You lied to me! You left me with nothing but questions, and now that I have the answers, you want me to stop? You want me to just let it go?"

He was so close now, close enough that you could see the way his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, “I want you to stop throwing yourself into the fire like you have nothing left to lose."

"I don’t."

Silence.

Something shifted in his expression—something dangerous, something almost desperate.

"That’s bullshit,” he narrowed his eyes at you, “and you know it.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to let the weight of his words settle, “You don’t know me anymore, Jungwon."

His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second, before flicking back up to your eyes, "Yeah?"

“Then why do you still look at me like you wish I never left?"

your breath hitched.

Because he was right.

And that was the worst part of all.

You stared at him in silence, in disbelief. The tears rushing into your eyes like a hit of a merciless wave. You hold back a sob from your mouth with your trembling hands, forcing yourself to look away.

Standing only a few steps away, Jungwon instinctively reaches out for you.

His fingertips burn on your skin. You move, facing him once more with rage.

“Go right now!” you shouted, pushing him away, “go now!”

“Go!” You broke out into another painful sob, your harsh words now sounding like a desperate plea, a broken, pained one.

You didn’t know what else to do, grief crashing down on you at once.

You didn’t want to hurt him; You were terrified of what would happen if he was to stay around. In your own way, you wanted to protect him from you. Despite it all.

He could see it.

He shook his head, reaching out for you once again.

You rejected him. You pushed his hands away.

He tried again, taking a grip onto your arms, “Y/n, listen to me, baby…”

“No!” you moved frantically, trying to get out of his grip, “No! Let go of me!”

You hit him repeatedly in his chest, hot tears streaming down your distressed face.

He took every hit, gazing at you with such tenderness.

It broke you even more.

Your blows decreased. They became weaker and your voice trembled, “please…go home, Jungwon.”

Finally still, Jungwon pulled you into a warm and tight embrace.

You didn’t fight it this time. Maybe because you didn’t have the strength, or maybe simply because you wanted this. You needed it.

“I’m already where i’m supposed to be, y/n.”

You sobbed gently against his chest, melting into his arms. You gripped desperately onto him, every sensorial part of you obsessed with him. He caressed your head soothingly.

“I didn’t mean what i said the last time. I’m so sorry, I know it’s my fault. I don’t deserve you, nor your trust or your love. I know that,” he explained, “but i choose to continue trying. Even if you push me away. Hit me, curse at me, fuck—tell me you hate me. Anything. Just as long as it gives me your forgiveness.”

He brought his hands to cup your face, bringing your softened face towards his.

“And you know why?” he looked into your eyes, “because I love you, y/n.”

Your eyes flickered. He slowly lowers himself before you, his hands holding yours, getting on his knees.

“I truly don’t think I can be without you, y/n. I love you so much it hurts. So please…please, baby…if you can find it in you to love me one more time, i’ll spend the rest of my life in proving it to you. Just one,” he begged, “please love me one more time.”

And even though he tried to stabilize himself, you could hear the small tremble in his voice and the glistening in his eyes.

He so desperately wanted it to be you.

You stood there, lost at words. Many thoughts rushing through your mind. You weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t want to think.

“Okay…” you breathed out.

His face softened immediately, his shoulders relaxing. He kissed your hand, standing up once again. He cups your cheek, bringing you into a soft kiss. He left soft pepper kisses around your face, whispering ‘I love you’s in between.

“You don’t have to say it now,” he said, “this is enough for me.”

And then, he reconnected your lips tenderly. Your eyes flickered close, gripping onto his arms. He cocked your head back slightly, deepening the kiss. Close wasn’t close enough for him.

“Should we…go to my room?” you said, quietly.

He flashed you a dimpled smile, “Is that what you want? Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you—”

you cut him off with a kiss. He took the message, scooping you up in his arms. He led the way into the bedroom, sitting onto it with you on top of his lap.

And before you knew it, you were holding onto him, taking every single inch of him. He sat against the headboard of your bed, while you bounced on his cock. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his face snuggled into the crook of your neck. He left bite marks, kisses, and love bites all over your skin. Worshiping every part of you, honored to breathe the same air you breathe, let alone to have the privilege to touch you. He whispered a few affectionate words into your ear, gripping onto your ass to slam it back down on his cock. He guided your hips, rocking you. A few whines and groans left his mouth, thrusting further into your tight cunt.

you moaned, making a mess of his hair as you fisted it.

There weren’t many words exchanged, letting your body and small whispers exchange the message. You could feel it in every touch, every kiss, every gaze—the love he had for you.

Your body’s felt interlinked, your heart fulfilled with every inhale you took of his bare skin.

You took time to take in his touch, the way his warm, big, arms wrapped around you perfectly. In a protective stance, assertive, yet so tender.

It was a form of ecstasy only he could bring you.

Body and soul.

And it didn’t stop there. Jungwon took you the entire day, round after round without much of a break. He was a madman, deeply entranced and bewitched by his love for you. He wanted you, every part of you, he wanted to satisfy you. And he did his part, too well. He knew that.

He pleasured you all day, overstimulating you in the best way, till tears formed into your eyes and your eyes rolled back. Orgasm after orgasm.

By the time you both were done, you both laid entangled in each others arms. His chin rested on top of your head, while you laid against his chest. The sound of his breathing, soothing you. You woke up in the middle of the night, realizing your position. You stared at him, watching the way his chest rose and went down. His handsome face, his pretty features, every curve on his face.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were far too in love with him than you let yourself think.

You smiled, planting a very gently and soft kiss onto his lips. He softly stirred, instinctively pulling you closer. You let him, closing your eyes to fall asleep once again.

And finally, the day had came in a blink of an eye.

The night air was thick with tension, the city lights fading behind you as you and Jungwon sped toward the warehouse on the outskirts of town. The roads were mostly empty, except for a few passing cars, but every shadow felt like a threat.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white as he saw the way you fought the unease creeping up your spine. You had spent years working inside the system, believing in the justice you served. But now, that same system had betrayed you. Someone on the inside had been feeding information to the mastermind all along. And if Han Joon was the rat, then confronting him wasn’t just about exposing the truth—it was about survival.

"If this goes sideways," he finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm, "you get out. You understand?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, you shot him a glare, “What are you talking about? Not happening."

"Y/n—"

"Don’t start," you cut him off, "We’re in this together. I’m not leaving without you. You don’t get to make that call."

Jungwon exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, but he didn’t argue further. He knew you too well. Knew that you weren’t the type to run.

As the warehouse came into view, he slowed the car, pulling into the shadows of an abandoned loading dock across the street. The building itself was old, its metal siding rusted and covered in graffiti. A single dim light flickered above the entrance, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

You scanned the perimeter. No guards. No backup. That was suspicious in itself.

"Too quiet," Jungwon murmured, voicing your exact thoughts.

"Han wouldn’t come here alone," you said, reaching for your gun, “He’s either already inside, or we’re walking into a setup."

Jungwon reached into his jacket, checking his own weapon, “Then let’s make sure we’re not the ones getting trapped."

He leaned over to the passengers seat to place a soft kiss onto your lips before getting out the car. You froze, blankly, before a small smile crept onto your face.

You moved together, keeping low as you approached the side entrance. The door was slightly ajar, a dark gap in the metal frame.

You glanced at Jungwon. He nodded once.

With careful steps, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. The warehouse was dark, save for a few overhead lights illuminating the main floor. Rows of crates and shipping containers lined the space, providing plenty of places to hide. The air smelled of dust and old metal, the silence heavy, almost suffocating.

Then, the sound of footsteps.

You pressed yourself against a metal beam, your breath steady as you peeked around the corner. Han Joon stood near the center of the warehouse, his back turned to you. He was talking to someone on his phone, his voice low but urgent.

"No, listen—this isn’t what we agreed on."

A pause.

"I told you I’d handle it. But if we move too soon, they’ll figure it out."

Another pause.

"Yes. I know. I’ll take care of it."

He hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket. His posture was tense, his fingers twitching like a man in over his head.

You exchanged a glance with Jungwon. This was it.

Gun raised, you stepped out from the shadows. "Put your hands where I can see them, Han."

He stiffened at the sound of your voice but didn’t turn immediately. Instead, he let out a slow, almost resigned sigh, “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that."

Jungwon moved beside you, his own gun trained on Han, “Who were you talking to?"

Han finally turned, his face unreadable, “Does it matter? You’re already too late."

A chill ran down your spine.

"Too late for what?" you demanded.

Han’s lips curled into a humorless smirk, “You still don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about your partner. It never was. You think you’re solving one case, but you’re playing in a much bigger game. And the people pulling the strings?" He let out a low chuckle.

"They don’t lose,” Before you could react, Han moved.

His hand shot toward his waist, reaching for a weapon. Instinct took over—you fired.

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse as Han staggered backward, clutching his shoulder. He gritted his teeth in pain, but even then, there was something almost smug in his expression.

"You think this ends with me?" he panted, blood seeping through his fingers. "You’re chasing ghosts, y/n. And you have no idea who you’re really up against."

A sick feeling twisted in your stomach.

Jungwon stepped forward, grabbing Han by the collar and slamming him against the nearest crate, "Start talking. Now."

Han let out a low, pained laugh, “I’d love to, really. But I don’t think my boss would like that very much."

Then, the sound of a phone vibrating.

Han’s eyes flickered downward, and you followed his gaze—to his jacket pocket.

Jungwon yanked the phone out, glancing at the screen. An unknown number.

Your heart pounded. Whoever was calling, they were watching.

Jungwon answered without hesitation, “Who is this?"

Silence.

Then, a voice distorted by a voice modulator.

"You should have stayed out of this, detective."

The line went dead.

And then, the warehouse lights cut out.

Everything plunged into darkness.

Then—footsteps. Fast. Closing in.

"It’s a setup!" Jungwon shouted.

Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks splitting through the silence. You barely had time to duck behind the crates before bullets ricocheted off the metal walls. Han slumped to the floor, his wound making him an easy target.

Shadows moved in the darkness. More than one. More than two.

You and Jungwon were outnumbered.

And the real mastermind was still out there, watching. Waiting. Smiling in the dark.

"They knew we were coming," you whispered, pressing your back against the crate.

Jungwon exhaled sharply, “Of course they did. Han was stalling—he led us right into this trap."

Han’s barely conscious body laid on the floor. He wasn’t your priority anymore. The real threat was closing in.

Another round of bullets tore through the air, forcing you and Jungwon to shift positions. You caught a brief silhouette moving in the distance—at least four shooters, maybe more. Well-trained. Tactical.

"We need to move," Jungwon muttered, “Sitting here makes us easy targets."

You nodded. There was no choice. You counted down in your head—three, two, one—then broke into a sprint, dodging between crates as more bullets chased your shadow. Jungwon was right behind you, firing precise shots that forced the gunmen into momentary cover.

As you weaved through the maze of containers, you spotted something—a narrow metal staircase leading up to a catwalk. Higher ground. An advantage.

"Up there!" you called out, and Jungwon followed your gaze.

You darted toward the staircase, your heart pounding, adrenaline surging through your veins. Gunfire rang out again, a bullet grazing your arm, but you bit down the pain and kept moving. Jungwon returned fire, covering you as you scrambled up the stairs.

From the catwalk, you finally got a better view of your attackers. Four men, all dressed in black, all moving in coordinated patterns. But then your stomach twisted.

One of them wasn’t just a man.

It was an officer.

Your blood ran cold.

"Jungwon," you said through gritted teeth, your voice barely above a whisper, “They’re not just hired guns. They’re cops."

Jungwon’s expression darkened, “That explains why we’ve been one step behind this whole time."

Your worst fears had been confirmed. The mastermind wasn’t just using a single rat inside the department—he had an entire network. People who had sworn the same oath you had. People willing to kill to protect their secret.

You took a slow breath, leveling your gun, “If the department’s compromised, we can’t trust anyone."

Jungwon nodded, his gaze sharp, “Then we take them out ourselves."

He moved first, a single shot taking out the closest shooter below. The man dropped before he could react. That left three.

You spotted the officer—the traitor—and aimed. But before you could fire, he shouted something into his radio.

"They’re here! Move now!"

Your gut twisted.

Move now?

Something was wrong.

Then, in the distance, you heard it—sirens.

Jungwon cursed, “They’re bringing reinforcements."

Your mind raced. If backup arrived, they wouldn’t be there to help you. They’d be here to clean up the mess—to silence you permanently.

"We have to get to Han," you said.

Jungwon glanced at you like you were insane, “Han? He’s dead weight. We need to get out of—”

"No," you cut in, "he knows something. And if we let them take him, we lose our last chance to expose them."

Jungwon hesitated—but then nodded. He trusted you.

With no time to waste, the two of you leaped down from the catwalk, landing hard on the concrete floor below. The remaining gunmen fired, but you ducked and rolled behind a metal crate. Jungwon grabbed Han, who was barely conscious, dragging him up.

The warehouse doors burst open, more figures flooding in. Too many.

You looked at Jungwon, He looked at you.

No words were needed.

This was it. It was all or nothing.

You took a breath, steadied your gun, and charged straight into the fire.

The warehouse was collapsing into chaos. Sirens wailed in the distance, gunfire echoed through the massive steel structure, and the acrid scent of smoke and blood filled the air. You and Jungwon moved as one, dodging bullets, returning fire, pushing forward through the swarm of corrupt officers determined to silence you.

Han Joon was slumped between you, barely able to stand as Jungwon dragged him along. He was your key—your last chance to expose the mastermind behind everything. But getting out alive was another story.

The loading dock was ahead, a massive set of double doors that led outside. Your car was parked just beyond them, a possible escape—if you could make it there.

"We need cover!" Jungwon shouted as more bullets rained down from the catwalk above.

You spotted a forklift and an overturned stack of crates, “There!"

Together, you moved swiftly, taking down one of the gunmen in your path. Blood splattered across the concrete as he crumpled. You had no time to hesitate. Every shot you fired, every step you took, was life or death.

Then, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Drop your weapons."

Everything stopped.

From the shadows, a man emerged. Dressed in a sleek black suit, calm despite the bloodbath surrounding him. His dark eyes met yours, and the moment they did, your breath caught.

Commissioner Park.

Your superior. Your mentor. The man who trained and watched you and Hyunjin grow into the detectives you once were.

The mastermind.

Your grip on your gun tightened, rage curling in your stomach, “It was you."

Park smiled, "It had to be me."

Jungwon stepped forward, his gun raised, “You killed Hana’s partner. You framed Kang. You let innocent people die just to keep your operation alive."

Park tilted his head, as if amused, “And yet, here we are. With you making the same mistake he did—getting too close to the truth."

At his signal, more officers surrounded you, guns drawn. You and Jungwon were outnumbered, outgunned. Even if you fought, it would be a massacre.

Han Joon coughed weakly, lifting his head, “You… bastard…" he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Park barely acknowledged him. Instead, he sighed. "I told you before, y/n. There are forces bigger than you at play. This city? It belongs to us. And you…?" His expression darkened, “You should’ve learned to stay in line."

Your mind raced. If you were arrested, you'd never see a courtroom. They’d kill you before you even had the chance to testify.

Jungwon must have realized the same thing. His grip on his gun shifted slightly, his muscles tensing. Ready to fight. He instinctively stepped in front of you, protectively.

And that’s when you saw it—Han Joon’s fingers twitching, slowly reaching into his jacket.

A grenade.

Your eyes widened, “Han, don’t—"

But it was too late.

With the last of his strength, Han pulled the pin.

"Run!"

The explosion was deafening. The shockwave sent you flying backward, crashing against a stack of metal pipes. The entire warehouse trembled as flames erupted from the blast site, smoke billowing into the air.

Dazed, ears ringing, you forced yourself to move. Jungwon was already pulling you to your feet, his face streaked with soot and blood. He cupped your face, worriedly. Although it was muffled, you could hear him ask, “are you okay?”

you nodded, signaling to move quick.

Park was still alive, thrown back by the explosion but struggling to stand. His men were scattered, some dead, others too disoriented to react.

This was your chance.

You staggered forward, gun in hand, leveling it at Park’s chest. His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something in them—fear.

"This is for my partner."

You pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out. Park staggered, a red bloom spreading across his suit. His body crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

It was over.

Jungwon grabbed your hand, tugging you toward the exit. "Come on, before the whole damn building collapses!"

With smoke filling your lungs and fire raging behind you, the two of you ran.

Justice had been served, But at what cost?

The morning air was crisp, a stark contrast to the chaos of that night. It had been a few days since then. You stood on the rooftop of the precinct, watching as the city slowly came to life beneath you.

Park’s corruption had been exposed. Every officer on his payroll was being investigated, and arrests were happening by the hour. The department was in shambles, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like real change was coming.

But the victory felt… hollow. Though it brought you peace, it wouldn’t bring back Hyunjin.

You watched Jungwon get out the car from your view, making his way to your apartment. He looked up, catching you looking at him. He smiled, waving at you enthusiastically. You smiled back, signaling him to quickly come up. He had a cake box in his hand, your favorite cake to celebrate for the victory.

Then, your eyes flickered over to the loud motorcycle speeding down the road.

Your smile faded. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

As if time was moving slowly, the motorcyclist took out a gun from their pocket, pointing it at Jungwon.

You looked over at Jungwon, “Jungwon, watch out!”

Jungwon followed your gaze, confused, but it was too late.

Then, you heard the gun fire. You screamed, instinctively reaching out for him as if you could safe him.

Your eyes widen, your body trembling and going cold.

Jungwon stumbled to the ground, the motorcyclist rushing off but crashing into a large truck. The force impact causing him to fall off his bike, taking hard blows. He fell unconscious.

You ran out of your apartment, tears falling out of your eyes. You took the emergency stairs, impatient to get down there. You were bare foot, still in your home clothes—nothing could prepare you for this.

By the time you made it out, people gathered around, watching. You dropped beside Jungwon, reaching out to him. You hands trembled terribly, hovered over him. Unsure of what to do, still in shock. You sobbed, holding onto his face.

“Oh my God,” you choked out, “please. Please hold on a little longer—jesus, someone call the police please!”

you sobbed frantically, looking around to the others for help. You placed your hands over his bloody wound on his lower stomach, your hands coated in his blood. As if you could stop it from flowing, but it was no use. He looked at you, trying to maintain a reassured expression. He cupped your cheek with one hand.

“Y/n—”

“No,” you cut him off, “don’t talk. Don’t use your energy. Everything is going to be okay, just wait till later—”

“Y/n, listen to me,” he continued, “I need you to promise me something.”

You shook your head, broken sobs escaping your lips, “No…no! for what? You’re going to be okay, I promise…”

He wiped away your tears with his thumb, his complexion looking worser by the second.

“Why aren’t they here yet,” You shouted, frustrated and desperate.

“Promise me,” his soft gaze lingered on you, “that you’ll live in peace now. That you won’t stress yourself out for things out of your control.”

You watched him, words becoming futile devices. You nodded, your breath rigid from the sobs. Your hands were dripping in his blood, his face flinched in pain.

“Please, hold on a little longer,” you sobbed quietly, caressing his head and cheek in desperation.

As if to memorize his face. His touch. His warmth. Of what was left of him, at least.

He tried to laugh but choked on it, grimacing. "Guess I’m not as invincible as I thought."

You pressed down on the wound, your heart hammering, “Stay with me. You hear me? You’re not going anywhere. You can’t leave me. You owe me, don’t forget that!”

His eyelids fluttered, his breathing ragged, “You’re bossy, you know that?"

"Shut up,” your voice trembled.

The sirens were distant, help on the way, but time felt slow. Too slow. You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything.

His fingers found yours, weak but firm, “I worry I may not have told you this as much as I wished to, I love you, y/n."

"Don’t say that,” Your voice broke.

“Promise me one more thing,” he brought his bloody hand to your cheek.

“w-what?”

“In some universe, if by some miracle we cross paths, fall in love with me,” his loving gaze softened, “but If one day you find yourself in the position to love someone again after i’m gone, allow yourself.”

Jungwon smiled faintly, but his grip was slipping.

Then, in the distance, the sirens grew louder. Help was coming.

You didn’t know if it would be enough. A few sobs escaped your lips at his words.

“No—”

“Yes. Promise me,” he replied.

“No!” you shouted, “If this is about my happiness, take it, I don’t want it without you!”

His eye lids grew heavy, he coughed a few times.

“Please, promise me…” a tear slipped from the corner of his eyes.

You felt sick to your stomach. You swallowed down, hard. You nodded.

“I promise,” you cried, “but that won’t need to happen. Because you’ll be okay, just hold on a bit more, help is on the way.”

Your attention was caught by the ambulances turning the corner. You felt hope. But as you turned to face Jungwon, you felt his hand slip down your face. His blood smudging against your cheek.

Your blood went cold.

His eyes were flickering close, his chest not rising fully.

You jerked forward, tapping his face.

“Jungwon, no, no, listen to me,” you said, “do you hear me?”

It hit you again, a wave of tears. Worse than what it was before. You held him in your arms.

“I love you,” you whispered, “did you hear me? I’m ready. I love you, Jungwon. So much.”

You sobbed loudly, your piercing screams for help breaking through the cold air. You planted soft kisses onto his lips.

“I love you. Did you hear? I said I love you!” you laid your forehead against his, “Please. Wake up. I forgive you, okay? You can’t leave me. You said you’d never leave…”

The ambulance responders rushed out the vehicle, checking him. The time felt like it went slow, everything sounded muffled, watching them take him from your arms. You watched as his hands separated from yours, dropping to his side. A harsh reminder that this was real, along with other things.

That he never got to hear you tell him you loved him.

And that he’ll never know you forgave him.

You sat there, watching as they took him from you. His blood all over you, becoming cold. You stared off into the air, the shock crashing down on you. As memories of him flashed through your mind, the many things you still had to say, the things there was still left to do.

You were left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and the pain of losing him forever.

to be continued…

[hisfavegirl]

Dangerous Affairs - Mafia!Aemond Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader.

Summary : You had become his obsession, his everything, even in the chaotic, blood-soaked world they all lived in. Aemond had always been the cold, calculating son of the Targaryen family, but when it came to you, the mask he had worn so carefully began to crack. You, the only person who saw past the facades, the only one who loved him without asking for anything in return. And now, someone had dared to take you from him.

Aemond Masterlist.

Aemond paced back and forth in his lavish office, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the walls. His eyes burned with rage, and his sharp features were twisted into a menacing scowl. The video on his screen looped endlessly: you, bound to a chair in some dimly lit room, your face bruised and bloodied.

"Who did this?" he snarled, his voice cold as steel. "Who dares touch what is mine?"

His men stood silently, heads bowed, knowing better than to meet his gaze when he was in this state. Aemond's fury was a storm, and they were in its direct path.

One of his lieutenants, a man named Rykker, stepped forward hesitantly. "We're working on tracking the location, boss. The video was sent anonymously, but we've identified-"

"Not fast enough!" Aemond roared, sweeping his arm across the table and sending papers, a lamp, and a glass of whiskey crashing to the floor. He turned back to the video, fists clenching at his sides.

Your eyes in the video were filled with fear but also defiance, even as blood trickled down your temple. The sight of your pain made his chest tighten.

"Find them," Aemond hissed, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I don't care what it takes. I want names, locations, and every single one of them brought to me alive. They'll wish for death before l'm done." Rykker nodded, retreating quickly to relay the orders.

Aemond leaned against the desk, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn't lose control now. You needed him. Whoever had taken you would pay dearly for their mistake.

He stared at the frozen frame of your face on the screen, his jaw tightening. "Hold on," he muttered. "I'm coming for you."

Without another word, he grabbed his coat, his gun strapped to his side, and marched out of the office. If his men weren't fast enough, he'd hunt them down himself.

The sharp sting on your cheek forced you back into the harsh reality of your situation. Your head throbbed, and your wrists burned where the ropes bit into your skin. Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with darkness once again, the dim light in the room barely illuminating the outline of the cold, damp walls.

You whimpered softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you pleaded, “Please… whoever you are… let me go…”

But your words were met with the same suffocating silence as before. The only sounds in the room were your uneven breathing and the faint dripping of water in the distance.

You tried to move, but every shift of your body sent sharp pain through your limbs. Your captors had been rough, leaving bruises and cuts that now throbbed with every heartbeat.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Whoever had done this to you wanted to see you break, to see you crumble. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

The sound of footsteps suddenly echoed in the distance, growing louder as they approached the room where you were held. Your heart raced, fear and hope warring within you.

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure stepped inside. “You’re awake,” they said coldly, their voice devoid of any emotion.

You turned your head toward the sound, your voice trembling as you asked, “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

The figure chuckled darkly, stepping closer until you could see the glint of a knife in their hand. “It’s not about what I want,” they said, their tone mocking. “It’s about sending a message. To him.”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t need to ask who “him” was. You knew they were talking about Aemond.

“You think he’ll just let this go?” you whispered, anger mixing with your fear. “You’ve made a mistake.”

The figure smirked, crouching down to meet your gaze. “That’s the point,” they said, their grin cruel. “Let him come. We’re counting on it.”

Aegon leaned against the doorframe, watching as Aemond unleashed his fury on the room. Glass shattered as the goblet struck the wall, narrowly missing one of Aemond's trembling subordinates. His younger brother's icy composure had melted into a blaze of rage, the usually sharp, calculating man now consumed by raw emotion.

"You're all useless!" Aemond roared, his voice echoing through the room. "How could you let this happen? How could she be taken right under your noses?"

The men cowered, their heads bowed in silence, none daring to speak or defend themselves.

"Aemond," Aegon called, stepping into the room with his arms crossed. "That's enough." Aemond turned to him, his eye ablaze.

"Don't you dare tell me what's enough, Aegon," he snapped. "They lost her! She's out there-alone, scared-because of their incompetence!"

"And yelling at them, throwing things, and losing your mind isn't going to bring her back!" Aegon shot back, his voice firm but not without understanding.

Aemond's chest heaved, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Aegon stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I get it, brother. You're angry. You're scared. But losing your temper won't help us find her. What we need is a plan, not chaos."

Aemond ran a trembling hand through his hair, his jaw clenched as he tried to rein in his emotions. "They're using her to get to me," he said, his voice quieter but laced with venom.

"They want me to come for her. And I will."

Aegon nodded. "And you will," he agreed. "But not like this. If you let your anger cloud your judgment, you'll be walking straight into their trap. You know that."

Aemond turned his back to the room, staring out the window. The city sprawled before him, but his mind was consumed by thoughts of you-your face, your voice, the way you always seemed to calm the storm inside him.

"I'll kill them," he said quietly, his voice a promise. "Every last one of them. But first, I'll bring her back."

Aegon placed a hand on his shoulder. "And you will," he repeated. "But let's do this right. For her."

Your sobs echoed in the dimly lit room as the woman's fingers tightened in your hair, pulling your head back sharply. Tears blurred your vision, but you forced yourself to look at her.

Her cold green eyes bore into yours, a sharp contrast to the dim glow of the single lamp hanging above.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" she said, her voice calm but laced with venom.

You shook your head weakly, your breathing uneven. There was something unsettlingly familiar about those eyes, but you couldn't place them.

"Please," you whispered, your voice cracking.

"Let me go... I don't know who you are or what you want."

The woman scoffed, tilting her head as she studied your tear-streaked face. "Oh, you know me," she replied, her tone dripping with bitterness. "You just don't remember."

Her grip on your hair tightened, making you wince. The pain was sharp, but it wasn't as terrifying as the realization dawning in your mind. Those eyes-they reminded you of someone. Someone from Aemond's past, someone with a grudge, someone dangerous.

"You're his weakness," she hissed, leaning closer. "The reason he's untouchable. But now, I have you."

Your heart sank. She wasn't here for you; she was here for him.

"I don't care about your fight with him," you pleaded, trying to remain calm despite the panic surging within you. "Please, don't hurt me. Whatever he's done to you, I-"

Her sharp laugh cut you off. "Oh, it's not about what he's done. It's about what l've lost because of him."

Her grip loosened slightly, but her gaze didn't soften. Instead, it grew colder, more calculating.

"You're going to help me send him a message," she said. "And if you don't..." Her hand moved to your chin, forcing you to look directly at her.

"Well, let's just say I have no problem making him suffer by breaking you, piece by piece."

A chill ran down your spine, but you steeled yourself. Even through your fear, a small spark of defiance flickered within you. You wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

You hit the cold, hard floor with a thud, a sharp pain radiating through your side. The woman stood over you, her cruel smirk illuminated by the dim light. Her presence filled the room with a suffocating sense of dread.

“Keep her here,” she ordered the shadowy figures behind her. “No food, no water. Let her feel just a fraction of the suffering I’ve endured.”

Her green eyes flicked back to you, glinting with malice. She crouched down, her face close enough for you to feel her breath.

“You think you’re strong because he loves you,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous. “But love is a weakness, and I will make sure he regrets ever letting you into his heart.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“You won’t win,” you whispered, your voice trembling but defiant.

She laughed—a cold, heartless sound that sent chills down your spine. “Oh, sweet girl, I already have.”

Standing, she brushed off her hands as if touching you had tainted her. With a flick of her wrist, she signaled to her men before stepping out of the room.

“Let her rot,” she said over her shoulder. “Until he comes crawling.”

The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the room. You were left alone in the suffocating silence, your body aching and your heart pounding. For a moment, despair threatened to overwhelm you, but then you thought of Aemond—his determination, his fury.

You knew he would come for you. You just had to hold on.

Aemond paced the room, his jaw clenched, and his fists balled tightly at his sides. The idea of a party while you were missing was incomprehensible to him. His anger simmered just below the surface, threatening to erupt.

“You can’t be serious,” he growled, fixing Alicent with a glare that could cut steel. “She’s out there—alone, terrified—and you want to throw a party?”

Alicent remained calm, her hands clasped in front of her. “This isn’t about celebrating, Aemond. It’s a strategy. A public event like this will draw out whoever’s responsible. They can’t resist the opportunity to mock us or taunt you further.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, suspicion evident in his expression. “You’re using her as bait.”

“No,” Alicent said firmly, stepping closer. “I’m using their arrogance against them. This isn’t just about finding her—it’s about ensuring no one dares to cross our family again. You know as well as I do that they’ll want to gloat, to flaunt their power. This party will bring them out of the shadows.”

He turned away, running a hand through his hair. The idea made his blood boil, but there was a cruel logic to it.

“And what happens if they don’t take the bait?” he asked, his voice tight.

Alicent placed a hand on his arm, her voice softening. “Then we continue searching. But we have to try everything, Aemond. She would want us to do whatever it takes to bring her home.”

Her words hit their mark. Aemond closed his eye, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The thought of you, somewhere out there, hurt and scared, made his chest ache.

“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But if anything goes wrong, this is on you.”

“It won’t,” Alicent assured him. “We’ll get her back.”

Aemond’s resolve hardened. “We’d better. Because if we don’t, there won’t be a single soul left to celebrate anything.”

The grand estate sparkled with opulence, golden chandeliers casting warm light over ruby draperies and intricate floral arrangements. Servants bustled about, ensuring every detail of the so-called celebration was flawless. Guests began to trickle in, their laughter and chatter filling the vast halls, oblivious to the dark undertones of the evening.

Aemond stood near one of the towering windows, his tall frame tense, his eye fixed on the distant horizon. The finery and elegance around him were a mockery of his torment. He clenched his jaw, his hands tucked into his pockets to disguise the tremors of barely contained rage.

“Aemond,” came a soft voice behind him. He turned to see Alicent, her expression poised yet concerned. She gently placed a hand on his arm. “You need to remain composed. They’re watching you closely, hoping for a crack in your armor.”

He pulled away, his frustration evident. “Composed? Mother, she’s out there. Alone. Scared. And we’re here, pretending as though this—” He gestured to the opulence around him. “—is more important than finding her.”

“This isn’t a celebration,” Alicent reminded him firmly, her voice low but sharp. “It’s a trap. And you need to play your part.”

Aemond exhaled sharply, his fingers raking through his silver hair. He cast another glance out the window, hoping—praying—for a sign, for anything that would lead him to you.

Nearby, Aegon appeared with a drink in hand, his demeanor far too casual for the occasion. “You’ll scare the guests if you keep glaring like that, little brother,” he said with a smirk.

Aemond shot him a warning look. “You’d better hope this plan of hers works, or I’ll tear apart this city brick by brick to find her.”

Aegon’s smirk faltered slightly, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. We’ll find her.”

But Aemond couldn’t relax. Not when every passing moment meant you were still out there, trapped, and in danger. He turned back to the window, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to storm out and search for you himself.

Somewhere in the crowd, someone knew something. And Aemond vowed he would uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

You flinched as her cold fingers gripped your face, her nails digging into your skin. Her smile was cruel, her emerald eyes glinting with malice. “Oh, darling,” she cooed mockingly, tilting her head as if she were comforting you. “Did you hear? Your dear Aemond is hosting a party tonight. Such a grand affair—gold and red everywhere. He’s moved on quite splendidly without you.”

Your tears spilled over, silent sobs shaking your body as her words cut deep. You shook your head weakly, trying to hold onto your faith in Aemond. He wouldn’t forget you. He couldn’t.

“Ah, look at you,” she sneered, her grip tightening. “So pathetic. Crying for a man who probably isn’t even thinking about you anymore. But don’t worry, love. I’ll be there tonight.” Her voice turned venomous, her lips curling into a sinister grin. “I’ll make sure he forgets all about you. Permanently.”

She let go of your face, and you collapsed forward, gasping for air. The sound of her laughter echoed in the cold, empty room as she stood and straightened her dress.

“Don’t wait up,” she added, her tone dripping with mockery as she sauntered toward the door. “Oh, and if you’re wondering—no one’s coming for you. You’ll rot here, alone, while I take everything that was yours.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving you in suffocating silence. Your heart ached, not just from the physical pain but from the cruel possibility she had planted in your mind. Could it be true?

But deep down, you knew Aemond. His love for you burned like wildfire, unyielding and all-consuming. If he was hosting a party, it wasn’t to move on—it was to draw her out.

You closed your eyes, clutching the faint hope that he was still searching for you, still fighting to bring you back.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his single eye narrowing as he locked onto Alys Rivers across the room. She stood there with an air of confidence, a delicate goblet in her hand and a coy smile playing on her lips. Her emerald-green gown shimmered under the golden light, its color mocking the Targaryen black and red he so often adorned.

She raised her glass ever so slightly in a silent toast, her eyes meeting his with a spark of challenge. Aemond’s fists clenched at his sides. The audacity. To show her face here—at his family’s estate—after what she had done.

Aegon approached him from the side, a goblet in hand. “Little brother,” he muttered, his tone low and cautious. “What is it?”

Aemond didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on Alys. Aegon followed his line of sight and cursed under his breath. “You think she—”

“She knows something,” Aemond hissed, cutting him off. He began to move toward her, his long strides purposeful and threatening.

As he approached, the crowd seemed to sense his simmering rage, parting instinctively to let him through. Alys’s smile widened, and she tilted her head, feigning innocence.

“Aemond,” she greeted, her voice smooth and melodic. “You look troubled. I hope the festivities haven’t been too dull for you.”

Aemond stopped just a breath away from her, his towering presence overshadowing her dainty form. “Where is she?” he demanded, his voice low and venomous.

Alys took a slow sip from her goblet, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t know what you mean, love,” she replied, her tone dripping with feigned ignorance.

“Don’t play games with me,” he snapped, his voice rising enough to draw the attention of nearby guests. His eye burned with fury, and his fingers itched to draw his blade.

Alys leaned in closer, her voice a whisper meant only for him. “Careful, Aemond. We wouldn’t want to ruin your lovely party, would we?”

Aemond’s patience was razor-thin, and he grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. “Tell me where she is,” he growled.

Alys’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, but then she leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “You’re so predictable, Aemond,” she murmured. “She’s waiting for you. If you can find her in time.”

Before he could react, she slipped free of his grasp, melting into the crowd as if she had never been there. Aemond stood frozen, his fury boiling over. He turned to Aegon, his voice like thunder.

“Seal the exits,” he ordered. “No one leaves until I have answers.”

Aemond stormed toward the estate’s gates, his long strides purposeful as his sharp gaze locked onto the taillights of Alys’ car disappearing into the distance. His frustration mounted, the realization sinking in that she had eluded him once again.

“Follow her!” he barked at his men, his voice cutting through the cold night air. Several black vehicles screeched to life, tires spinning as they sped after Alys.

Aegon caught up to him, slightly out of breath. “She’s playing you,” he warned, his tone laced with concern. “We don’t know what she’s planning—”

“I don’t care what she’s planning,” Aemond snapped, his jaw clenched. “She has her hands in this, Aegon. I can feel it. If she knows where she is, I’ll make her talk.”

Aegon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to lose your head over this, brother.”

“I already lost something far more precious,” Aemond growled, his voice low but heavy with meaning.

The cars sped out of sight, but Aemond didn’t retreat to the safety of the estate. Instead, he lingered at the gate, his mind racing. Alys had made it personal, and her actions were no longer just a game to him. She was the key to finding you, and he wasn’t going to let her slip through his grasp again.

“Aemond,” Aegon said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find her. But you need to stay sharp. You rushing in blind won’t help her or you.”

Aemond shook off his brother’s hand, his eye narrowing. “You’re either with me or in my way,” he spat, turning on his heel. “She doesn’t have time for us to play it safe.”

As the night stretched on, Aemond prepared for the confrontation he knew was coming. Alys wouldn’t give up your location easily, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you home—even if it meant unleashing the darkest parts of himself.

Aemond paced the length of the room like a caged predator, his fists clenched and jaw tight. The air around him felt suffocating, heavy with his barely contained rage. His men stood at the edges of the room, heads bowed, too afraid to meet his piercing gaze.

“You lost her?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tense silence like a blade. He grabbed the nearest table and flipped it, sending papers and glasses crashing to the floor. “She was right there! And you lost her!”

“Aemond,” Aegon called, stepping into the room cautiously. “This isn’t helping. Losing control won’t bring her back.”

Aemond whipped around, his lone eye blazing with fury. “You think I don’t know that?” he hissed, his voice trembling with uncharacteristic emotion. “Alys isn’t just anyone. She’s calculating, manipulative, and she always stays three steps ahead. If we don’t catch her soon—” He stopped, his voice breaking slightly. “If we don’t find her, I don’t know what she’ll do to her.”

Aegon’s face softened at his brother’s rare display of vulnerability. He had never seen Aemond like this before—so undone, so human.

“She’s strong, Aemond,” Aegon said, his tone steady. “Stronger than you give her credit for. And you’re going to find her. But you need to focus. Letting Alys get into your head won’t help her.”

Aemond ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. He had always prided himself on being composed, always in control. But now, the fear gnawed at him, an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation. Alys Rivers wasn’t a typical adversary—she knew how to exploit weaknesses, and Aemond was terrified she’d use you against him in ways he couldn’t anticipate.

“I can’t lose her, Aegon,” Aemond finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not her.”

Aegon nodded, placing a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Then let’s make sure you don’t.”

With a renewed sense of determination, Aemond turned to his men. “Double the search efforts. Sweep every safe house, every hidden route Alys has ever used. If she so much as breathes near this city, I want to know about it.”

His men nodded and hurried out, leaving Aemond standing in the wreckage of his rage. For the first time, he felt the weight of helplessness. But beneath it, there was a spark of resolve—he would find you, no matter what it took.

You winced as her sharp nails dug into your cheeks, her voice dripping with venom as she leaned closer. “What does he see in you?” Alys hissed, her emerald eyes blazing with fury. “You’re nothing but a frail little thing. Aemond could’ve had me—should’ve had me. But no, he chose you.”

Her grip tightened, forcing your head to the side as you tried to avoid her piercing gaze. You felt the car jolt as it hit a bump in the road, your bound wrists aching from the tight restraints.

“I gave him everything,” Alys continued, her voice trembling with anger. “Power, knowledge, loyalty. And he discarded me like I was nothing. All for you.” She leaned back, her laugh sharp and bitter. “It’s pathetic, really.”

You swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears threatening to fall. You knew showing weakness would only fuel her anger further. Instead, you whispered hoarsely, “If he chose me, then maybe it’s because you never truly meant anything to him.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and her hand shot out, striking you across the face. The sting was sharp, and your head snapped to the side. “You dare?” she snarled. “You think you’re better than me? You think you’ll survive me?”

Your breathing grew ragged, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you met her gaze with as much defiance as you could muster.

Alys smirked, clearly enjoying the game of dominance. “Oh, don’t worry, darling,” she said, her tone almost sing-song. “We’re going to have so much fun together. I’ll make sure Aemond gets to see just how fragile his little treasure really is.”

The car came to a sudden stop, and the door on your side was flung open. Alys gestured for her men to pull you out, and you were dragged onto your feet. The cool night air hit your skin, and you glanced around, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

You were in the middle of nowhere—a secluded area surrounded by dense trees and darkness. The only light came from the car’s headlights, casting eerie shadows across the gravel road.

Alys approached you slowly, her heels clicking against the ground. “This is where your little fairy tale ends,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “Let’s see if Aemond will still love you when you’re broken beyond repair.”

Fear gripped your heart as you realized just how far she was willing to go.

Aemond’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he sped through the dark streets. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with every possible scenario. He couldn’t lose you—not to Alys, not to anyone.

The memory of your face, bruised and frightened in that cursed video, haunted him. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, the engine roaring as he pushed the car to its limits.

Behind him, the headlights of Aegon’s car appeared in the rearview mirror. Aegon was bringing reinforcements, but Aemond wasn’t about to wait. He was done waiting.

The coordinates from his men led him down a winding road surrounded by thick trees. His sharp eyes caught sight of tire tracks leading off into a secluded path. Without hesitation, he veered off the main road, the gravel crunching under his tires as he followed the trail.

As he neared a clearing, he saw the faint glow of headlights in the distance. His heart sank at the sight of figures moving near the car. One of them was unmistakably Alys, standing tall and commanding as her men dragged your limp form toward the shadows.

Aemond slammed the brakes, throwing the car into park before stepping out with a gun in hand. His one good eye was blazing with fury, his jaw clenched as he stalked toward the scene.

“Alys!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the night like a blade.

The woman turned, a slow, malicious smile spreading across her face. “Ah, there he is,” she purred. “The mighty Aemond Targaryen, coming to save his damsel in distress.”

Aemond ignored her words, his gaze fixed on you. “Let her go,” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Alys chuckled, gesturing for her men to stop. “And what will you give me in return, my love? You left me for her—betrayed me. Do you think I’ll let that go so easily?”

Aemond’s grip on the gun tightened. “You’re already a dead woman, Alys. The only choice you have is how painful it’ll be.”

Alys raised an eyebrow, her amusement fading. “You wouldn’t,” she said, though her voice wavered slightly.

“Try me,” Aemond growled, taking a step closer.

Before she could respond, the sound of approaching vehicles echoed through the woods. Aegon’s reinforcements had arrived, their headlights flooding the clearing.

Alys cursed under her breath, realizing her advantage was slipping away. With a snap of her fingers, her men raised their weapons, pointing them at Aemond and the approaching cars.

“Stop them!” she barked, but her voice was edged with desperation.

In the chaos that followed, Aemond saw his opening. He lunged forward, dodging a bullet as he fired at the man holding you. The shot was precise, and the man fell, releasing you from his grip.

You crumpled to the ground, weak and terrified, but relief flooded you as Aemond dropped his gun and scooped you into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’re safe now. I swear it.”

Alys screamed in rage as Aegon’s men closed in, overwhelming her forces. But Aemond didn’t spare her another glance. His only concern was you, holding you tightly as he carried you toward his car, desperate to get you as far away from this nightmare as possible.

Aemond froze, his arms still securely wrapped around you. He could feel your trembling body against his chest, and the sound of your shallow, frightened breaths only fueled his rage. His sharp gaze locked onto Alys, who now had a pistol aimed directly at you.

"Aemond," Alys drawled, her voice venomous yet steady, "put her down and step back. Or I swear, I'll put a bullet in her before you can blink."

"Alys," Aemond growled, his voice low and deadly, "don't do this."

Alys tilted her head, her green eyes glinting with malice. "You've already chosen her over me, haven't you? Well then, let's see how much she's worth to you."

Aegon, standing a few feet behind Aemond, gestured subtly to his men to prepare for a move, but they hesitated, knowing one wrong move could end with you dead.

"I'm not letting her go," Aemond said, his voice unwavering despite the situation. "If you want to hurt her, you'll have to go through me first."

Alys let out a bitter laugh. "How noble. But your gallantry means nothing to me, Aemond." Her grip on the pistol tightened. "Last chance. Put her down and walk away, or I'll paint the ground with her blood."

Your weak voice broke through the tension.

"Aemond... please," you whispered, barely audible, your tears soaking into his shirt.

Aemond's jaw clenched, his mind racing. He couldn't let you get hurt, but surrendering you to Alys wasn't an option.

He took a deep breath, his one good eye blazing with determination. "Alys," he said, his tone calmer but no less threatening, "you're not walking out of here alive. Let her go, and I might make it quick for you."

Alys's smile faltered, just for a moment. It was enough.

Suddenly, a single gunshot rang out, shattering the tense silence. Alys stumbled, her expression one of shock as she dropped her pistol, clutching her shoulder where blood began to bloom.

Aemond turned to see Aegon lowering his gun, his expression grim. "Didn't think l'd let her get the upper hand, did you?" Aegon muttered, stepping forward with his men to secure the scene.

Alys fell to her knees, her face twisted in pain and rage. "This isn't over," she spat, glaring at Aemond.

Aemond didn't respond. Instead, he tightened his hold on you and carried you to the car, his every step deliberate and resolute. "It's over for you," he muttered under his breath, his voice cold.

As Aegon's men subdued Alys and her remaining lackeys, Aemond focused only on you, placing you gently in the passenger seat of his car. His hand brushed your tear-streaked face, his expression softening as he whispered, "You're safe now. I've got you."

But deep inside, Aemond's fury burned hotter than ever. This wasn't just about saving you-it was about making sure no one would ever dare to take you from him again.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @zaldritzosrose @giirlinblack @callsignwidow

[kayakiki]

MINE | Red dead redemption x reader

Red dead redemption characters reacting to you getting hit on

Characters included: Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Lenny Summers, Charles Smith (In this order)

warning(s): threatening, mention of death

Genre: fluff

Arthur Morgan

The saloon was dimly lit, filled with the familiar scent of whiskey and sweat. You were just trying to enjoy a drink, letting the warmth of the fire and the buzz of conversation settle over you like an old, tattered blanket. But, of course, peace never lasted long in a place like this.

Arthur saw it before you did—the way the man leaned in too close, the cocky grin stretched across his face as he said something low enough for only you to hear. Whatever it was, it made your fingers tighten slightly around your glass.

He sighed.

He’d been in this business long enough to recognize trouble before it started. Didn’t matter if it was a rival gang or some drunk fool thinking he was invincible—trouble always walked in wearing the same damn smirk.

Setting his glass down, he adjusted the brim of his hat and stood, slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to be loud. Didn’t need to make a scene. When he moved, people noticed.

The man flirting with you didn’t, though.

Not until there was a shadow over him.

"Step back." His voice was calm, steady. Not a demand, not a threat, just a statement. But the weight behind it carried more warning than any drawn gun ever could.

The flirter, either too stupid or too drunk to recognize the danger he’d just waded into, gave a sloppy grin. "Didn’t realize this pretty thing belongs to someone, friend."

His jaw tensed. "She ain’t a prize to be claimed. Now move along."

Something about the way he said it—the quiet steel in his tone, the absolute certainty—made the man hesitate. But there’s always one idiot in every saloon who thinks they’re tougher than they are.

"Or what?" the flirter taunted, puffing his chest out like a rooster in a henhouse.

Arthur exhaled slowly through his nose, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He was getting real tired of this kind of stupid.

"Or," he said, finally letting his hand rest on the holster of his revolver, "you’ll find out firsthand why I don’t waste bullets on warnings."

The man gulped, eying the gun. For a long moment, there was nothing but the crackle of the fire and the creak of old wooden floorboards.

Then the flirter swallowed, muttered something under his breath, and all but ran out the door.

Satisfied, Arthur finally turned to you, expression unreadable. His eyes, though—they were searching, checking, making sure you were alright.

"You alright?" He spoke softly to you.

You gave him a small smile. "I could’ve handled it. But thank you. You're a real gentleman, huh?"

"I know you could handle it." He nodded, lips twitching up at the corners. "But I ain’t one for lettin’ fools talk too long."

He was just a man. A man who made his choices, lived by a code, and—above all else—protected what was his.

Dutch Van Der Linde

The saloon was alive with music and laughter, the scent of whiskey thick in the air. His people were scattered throughout the room, celebrating some recent victory—another step toward the future he was building, a future he made them believe in.

Dutch sat at his usual spot, whiskey in hand, leaning back with that ever-present smirk playing on his lips. A man of ambition, a man of vision. A man who owned every room he walked into.

And then he saw it.

Some poor, oblivious fool had sidled up to you, leaning in like he actually thought he had a shot. The man was talking fast, trying to impress you, and—bless his heart—he really didn’t know whose woman he was trying to charm.

A slow grin spread across his face.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Rising from his seat, he adjusted his coat, took a slow sip of his drink, and sauntered over like a king approaching his throne. Confidence in every step.

He placed a hand on your waist first—a silent declaration.

Then, with a voice as smooth as the finest whiskey, he spoke.

"Darlin’—imagine my heartbreak, sittin’ over there all by my lonesome, watchin’ another man try to steal you away." His tone was playful, teasing, but his eyes? Oh, there was fire behind them.

The flirter blinked, clearly confused. "I—uh—I was just—"

He cut the man off with a chuckle, shaking his head like he was genuinely disappointed. "No, no. Don’t backpedal now. You were doin’ real well—real confident, too. Almost made me jealous."

That was a lie. He wasn’t jealous. Not even a little. Because jealousy was for men who weren’t certain of what was theirs.

The flirter, now visibly uncomfortable, mumbled something and practically disappeared into the crowd.

With that little distraction handled, he turned his full attention to you, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

"Now, tell me the truth, sweetheart, was he borin’ you to death?"

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "You could’ve let me handle it, you know."

He exhaled a laugh, lifting your hand to press a slow, deliberate kiss against your knuckles.

"Oh, I know. But what kind of gentleman would I be if I let my lady suffer through such poor conversation?"

You shook your head, amused, but he could see the way your eyes softened for him.

"Now," he continued, voice dropping just a little, just enough to make your heart skip, "how ‘bout you let me buy you a drink, and I remind you why you chose me over every fool in this room?"

Hosea Matthews

The saloon was buzzing, card games in full swing, drinks flowing like a river after the rains. Hosea sat at a corner table, long legs stretched out, hat tipped just enough to give him a lazy, uninterested look—a man who saw everything without looking like he was watching.

And right now, he was watching.

Some poor bastard had decided that tonight was the night to try his luck with you.

He didn’t get mad. No, no. Anger was for men who didn’t know how to control a situation. Instead, he just sighed, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he observed.

The fool was talking big, flashing his best smile, leaning just a little too close for comfort. You looked unimpressed—which he found rather amusing.

He pushed back his chair and stood, adjusting his coat as he made his way over.

"Now, now," he drawled, sliding into the space between you and the flirter with the effortless ease of a man who had never lost a game of poker in his life. "I do hate to interrupt, but you wouldn’t happen to be botherin’ my lady, would you?"

The flirter blinked, clearly realizing that this wasn’t just some random man.

"I—uh—was just makin’ conversation."

"Oh, conversation." He nodded, stroking his chin like he was deep in thought. "Well, I do respect a man with a love for words. Tell me—what exactly were you hopin’ to achieve with this little chat?"

The flirter frowned, clearly confused.

"Were you hopin’ she’d find you more charmin’ than me?" He tsked, shaking his head. "That ain’t likely."

"Maybe you thought you could outwit me?" He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "That’d be a first."

The flirter opened his mouth, probably to argue, but Hosea lifted a hand, stopping him.

"Or—maybe you just enjoy flirtin’ with taken women. Now, that’s a dangerous little habit, my friend."

His voice was still light, still playful—but there was something underneath it, something just sharp enough to make the fool hesitate.

"So, here’s my friendly advice—take whatever dignity you got left, walk away, and count yourself lucky I’m in a good mood tonight."

The flirter didn’t need to be told twice. He muttered something and all but ran out the door.

Satisfied, he turned back to you with a grin. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he plopped himself into the seat beside you, resting an arm along the back of your chair.

"Now, how ‘bout you buy me a drink for my troubles? Savin’ my lady from unwanted attention is thirsty work." He mused jokingly.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

And no, he did not let you pay for his drink. He is too much of a gentleman.

John Marston

The saloon was dimly lit, hazy with cigar smoke and filled with the low hum of conversation. You were at the bar, waiting for your drink, when some nobody decided to slink up beside you, all smug confidence and cheap cologne.

“Well now, ain’t you just the prettiest little thing in here tonight?” the man drawled, leaning in slightly.

But before you even had to deal with it, you felt a familiar presence behind you—a looming, quiet storm.

John wasn’t one for scenes. He didn’t do flashy threats or loud outbursts. But when he was angry? You felt it.

A heavy hand landed on the bar beside you, just close enough to the man’s arm to make him notice. John didn’t say anything right away. He just stared.

The cowboy hesitated, then scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “Something wrong, friend?”

John let out a slow, tired sigh, like this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with.

Then, in a low voice, he muttered, “Walk away.”

That was it. Just two words. But damn, did they carry weight.

The man chuckled, trying to brush it off. “Relax, I was just complimentin’ her.”

John’s jaw twitched. His hand flexed once against the bar. Then, just as calmly, just as quietly, he repeated, “Didn’t ask what you were doin’. I said, walk away.”

His voice was steady, deadpan, but his eyes? Cold as hell.

The cowboy hesitated, glancing between you and the muscular, very unamused man standing beside you. Eventually, he grumbled something under his breath and backed off. Smart choice. Your boyfriend didn’t even watch him go. He just exhaled through his nose, finally looking at you.

“You alright, love?” he muttered, voice still low, still gruff, like he was still shaking off the irritation. He then proceeded to sneak his arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.

You smirked a little, nudging him lightly. “You gonna start throwing people out of saloons now?”

He scoffed, finally reaching for his drink. “If I have to.”

Then, after a beat of silence, he muttered, “Damn idiot’s lucky I was feelin’ patient.”

And that was that. No gloating, no dramatics. Just his usual, grumpy, quiet self—like scaring the hell out of some poor fool was just another part of his evening.

Javier Escuella

The saloon was loud, the air thick with cigar smoke and the scent of spilled whiskey. Javier sat at a table near the back, boots propped up, a half-empty bottle in front of him. His hat was tilted slightly forward, casting a shadow over sharp, dark eyes that scanned the room like a hawk.

He wasn’t in a bad mood. Not yet.

But then he saw it.

Some dumb pendejo had the nerve—the absolute balls—to sidle up to you, flashing some cocky smile like he actually had a chance.

He watched. For a moment. Maybe you’d tell the bastard off yourself.

But then the man had the audacity to touch your arm.

The chair scraped against the wooden floor as he stood. Oh, now he was in a bad mood. He walked across the room, boots heavy against the floor, zero hesitation in his step.

Before the flirter even knew what was happening, a strong hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back.

"Qué carajo te pasa, idiota?" Javier snapped at the man, forgotting to speak english thanks to how angry he was.

The flirter stumbled, eyes wide. "I—"

"No, no, no. You don’t talk. You listen." Javier's grip tightened, fiery anger sparking behind his gaze. "You think you can just walk in here and touch my woman?"

"I—I didn’t know she was taken!"

He scoffed, shoving the man backward with enough force to make him trip over his own damn feet.

"Scram"

The flirter scrambled up and bolted out of the saloon, leaving behind his pride and probably a little bit of his soul.

With that handled, he turned to you, still fuming.

"Qué chingados fue eso? Are you collecting dumbasses now, mi amor?"

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. "Its not like I want to, you know. Besides, I could have take care of it myself without the violence"

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. "Sí, sí, cariña. But that doesn’t mean I have to sit there and watch some idiota put his hands on you."

His eyes softened—just a little—before he grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to his.

"Next time, just tell me first so I don’t waste time watchin’ before I break his damn nose, sí?"

Then, without waiting for a reply, he pressed a quick, fierce kiss against your lips—just enough to make a statement.

When he pulled back, he smirked.

"I don’t like wasting my time on dead men walking."

Lenny Summers

The saloon was buzzing, the low hum of conversation mixing with the clinking of glasses. Lenny sat at the bar, his legs dangling over the edge of the stool, playing with the rim of his glass absentmindedly. His quick-wit was always sharp, and his mind constantly raced with new ideas, but in moments like these, he found himself stuck in a kind of awkward silence, observing rather than jumping into the conversation.

He liked to think of himself as someone who didn’t need to make a big show of things—but right now, his attention was focused on you. You were laughing at something one of the other men said, your smile bright, and your eyes sparkling with amusement.

But then, a man he didn’t recognize leaned in a little too close, trying to match your energy and charm.

His fingers drummed nervously on the counter. Why was he feeling so uneasy?

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen men flirt with you before. But something about this one… he didn’t like it.

A quick glance to the side showed the man was pushing his luck, inching closer, leaning in with a confident grin that made his stomach twist.

There was a brief moment where he considered letting it slide. You could handle yourself; he knew that. He’d seen you put people in their place without raising a finger. But then the thought of that man getting too bold sent a rush of frustration through him.

With a deep breath, he stood up, adjusting his coat as he made his way over.

The man noticed him just as he was about to say something else, and he made the mistake of locking eyes with him.

"Hey" he said, his voice not quite as loud as he intended, a little unsure. "I think you’ve gotten a little too close."

The man shot him a confused glance.

"Come again?"

"I said… you’re a bit too close," he repeated, trying to sound calmer, more composed.

You turned to look at him now, a curious expression crossing your face.

He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he pressed on. This wasn’t like him. He’d spoken to men a lot worse than this. It was just—well, it was you. He hated seeing anyone else get too close to you.

"Hey, I don’t mean any harm" the man said, raising his hands in mock surrender "but I was just talking."

"Yeah, well," His voice dropped just a little lower. He cleared his throat and tried to appear more confident. "She’s not interested, alright? So, maybe it’s time to move along."

The man, realizing there was no point in arguing, just nodded with a lazy grin and walked off.

He stood there, awkwardly, unsure whether to feel relieved or embarrassed that he’d gotten worked up over something so small.

You were staring at him now, eyes narrowed slightly in amusement.

"Well" you said, a teasing tone in your voice, "you sure look scary mister"

He flushed, scratching the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I just I didn’t want you to be bothered by someone."

You smiled, stepping closer to him. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, trying to steady his nerves. "You don’t have to do that, you know. But I appreciate it."

His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he almost forgot where he was. "I’m just glad I could help."

You laughed softly, the sound making him smile more than he realized.

"Yeah sure did. Thank you" you said.

He felt the knot in his chest loosen, his shoulders relaxing just a little. "You have nothing to thank me for."

Charles Smith

The saloon was alive with noise—piano keys clinking, drunken laughter rolling through the thick haze of tobacco smoke. Charles sat at the bar, posture relaxed but never careless, one hand around a glass of whiskey, the other resting near the knife strapped to his belt.

He never spoke more than he had to. Words were cheap. Actions mattered. And right now, his attention was drawn to you. Or, more specifically, the fool who thought he had the right to stand too close, talk too sweet, and try his luck where he had no business trying.

At first, he waited. Gave the man a chance. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe he’d realize his mistake and walk away.

But then the flirter leaned in.

Your shoulders tensed ever so slightly. You weren’t scared—you could handle yourself, and he knew that.

Didn’t mean he had to let you.

Setting his glass down with deliberate ease, he rose from his seat and crossed the room in a few slow, measured steps.

The flirter didn’t notice him at first.

Not until a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

The man froze. Turned. Looked up into unreadable eyes.

"Step away," he said, voice quiet—but quiet in the way distant thunder warns of a coming storm.

The flirter blinked, surprised, then scoffed. "Didn’t realize she was taken."

His grip tightened—not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind the man that he could.

"You realize now."

A pause.

Then the flirter nodded, mumbling some excuse as he backed away fast enough to trip over his own feet.

Once he was gone, Charles finally turned to you, gaze softening just enough.

"You alright?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I could’ve handled him."

His lips twitched, almost amused. "I know."

That was it. No gloating, no teasing. Just quiet certainty.

[mydear-corinthian]

Bait || Shelby family x reader

Synopsis: Reader went out partying and the Shelby family's enemy attacked her. Pairing: Shelby family x sister! reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured badly, mentions of blood, stabbing, and violence, swearing Notes: rushed :C, gif is mine Click here to find the MAIN Masterlist Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS Masterlist

It was just a usual night in Small Heath. Due to the boredom, you decided to go outside and maybe have a little fun.

You dressed up. A long gold dress decorated your body. A feathered hat decorated your head. And a few pearl jewelry shined your neck, arms, and ears. Grabbing your gold colour purse, you exited your room, spiraling down the wooden stairs of your family's house.

As you went down, Polly saw you. "Where you going, love?" she asked, smiling.

Grabbing a cigarette stick, you placed it on your lips, leaning to Polly as your aunt was also about to light her long black stick of the cancerous stick. "Party, Aunt Pol. I'm getting bored staying in this house," you replied, your cigarette finally lit.

The matriarch of the family took a puff of her cigarette, her serious eyes locked on yours. 

"Where? Who's going with you?" Polly asked.

"Oh, Aunt Pol.., I'll be fine. It's just 2 streets away from here. I'll be home at 2 am."

"Take care and enjoy love," she smiled, opening the door of the house's entrance, allowing you to exit the house.

<>

The only real issue was that you were wearing heels on the short walk from the house to the party location. Warm lights and vehicles adorned the spacious mansion. The estate was packed with elegantly dressed people in suits. You headed straight to the mansion's bar as soon as you got there and ordered a drink for yourself. Your heels reverberated against the bar's porcelain tiles. Men made up the majority of the crowd, and they were all too busy chatting, drinking, and trying to find women to satisfy their lusts.

"Whiskey, please," you ordered. You sat down just in front of the barman, glancing at everyone while waiting for your drink.

There were a few faces, you knew them because of your brother, Tommy and some were rich clients from the betting shop.

Finally, the barman gently placed a glass of whiskey in front of you. "Your drink, Madam."

You thanked him, picked up the glass, and sipped, letting the alcohol wash over your mouth. After placing a couple more drink orders, you made your way to the dance floor and started to dance energetically to the loud music being played. You moved your hips in time with the song's tune. You're waving your arms in the air. As you danced with the women, the dance floor was filled with a chorus of woos and laughs. Drinks were chugged into your system in tremendous amounts.

<>

You excused yourself and your new friends to go the restroom after a few hours of nonstop drinking and dancing. You were relieved that after eating at your place for a few hours, despite having numerous drinks, you were sober. You reapplied your clothing and your cherry lipstick as you straightened your hair in front of the big mirror. It's almost two, you realize as you glance at your pocket watch. Because you're the kind of person who takes responsibility seriously, is mature, and always arrives on time, Polly wasn't concerned about you going out late to party. After gathering your belongings, you put them back into your golden handbag and head out of the bathroom.

Finally saying goodbye to your new girlfriends, your heels found their way to the mansion's exit. Since you were sober already, you decided to take a walk back home.

As you walk through the dark streets of Birmingham, you cannot help but feel uneasy. You felt like you weren't alone at all. You felt that someone or somebody was following you.

And you were right.

Reaching for your pocket gun, you tried to protect yourself from the person who was following you by looking over your shoulder. You were too late, though. You were forcefully grabbed by two men, one of whom disarmed your gun. You were trapped against the wall by two rough pairs of arms, your head hitting the rocky concrete. Particularly on your stomach, you felt something cold and sharp graze your flesh, and the pain eventually got intolerable.

"What the fuck do you want!" you panted weakly, feeling a warm liquid drip on the side of your stomach.

"Just.. sending a message to your git brother," the low Irish accent sent shivers down your spine.

Campbell.

On the other hand, Polly was at the dining table, a cigarette in her hand as she watched the clock tick.

It was already past 2 and she started to get worried. You always come home on time - not even a minute late.

Polly hurriedly went to the telephone and dialed Tommy's number, her fingers shivering.

"Hello?"

"Tommy,"

"Pol? Why are you calling at this hour?"

"I-it's (y/n). She's not home yet and I'm starting to get worried. Oh God, Tommy. What if something happened to her?" Polly stammered, holding the telephone pole tightly.

"Not at home? I'll call John and Arthur." Tommy replied before ending the call.

<>

You tried to move and get out from their touch but due to the injury that you had, you were getting weaker.

"Tell your fucking boss to fuck off!" you hollered, heaving due to the pain down your stomach.

Punches rained down on you so hard you were gasping for air and screaming in pain as two strong fists crashed into your stomach and chest. Every blow sent waves of pain through your body, causing your legs to buckle and your breath to come in short, frantic gasps. Every strike was brutal, breaking your will and power in the process.

During the cruel assault, a fresh, burning pain suddenly appeared in your abdomen. Compared to previous experiences, this feeling was sharper and stronger. Frightened, you looked down to see the sparkle of a blade pressing against your body again. The man with the knife was cautious, taking his time as he carved the initials "C.C" into your flesh. The letters were an endless source of pain and abuse burned into your mind.

Dizziness was starting to get worse and worse but you paid no mind as you built up all of your strength to get up and grab your gun that was thrown on the cold hard bricks of the dark alley. Your cold fingertips pulled the trigger, emptying the bullet chamber by shooting them non-stop.

Two bodies were now on the cold floor, both lifeless, and their blood pooling out of their bodies, mixing with the hard concrete.

"You don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders."

Taking a deep breath at what happened, you stood up but moaned in pain after you felt the cuts and bruises all over your body. Looking down at your stomach, your dress was slit and filled with your blood.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered. Leaving your bag alone and limply walked back to the house.

Every step was a painful fight and the walk seemed to go on forever. Your back was laden with weight, and the pressure turned your spine into a throbbing rod of agony. Your single shoe scraped the uneven sidewalk, causing sharp pains to shoot through your leg with each step. As you struggled to remain straight the world around you became hazy and wobbly, and your vision became less sharp at the edges. You could feel consciousness sliding away, hovering on the edge of darkness, and every breath was a strained gasp. If you returned home without passing out, you were quite lucky.

Thankfully, you did.

Your bloodied palm opened the silver-colored knob, twisting it, and opened the door with all of your might.

There Polly was, looking at you with widened eyes. She ran towards you immediately, checking up on you.

"Dear God (y/n)! What happened to you?!"

Your body became weak due to a lack of strength in your muscles. You had a really pale face. Your dress was stained and damaged by your blood, and your hair is disheveled. Your aunt's voice fades more and further, the walls in your head beginning to swirl. After that, all you could see was darkness.

Polly caught you before your head contact with the wooden floor. Your arm limped on her touch.

The whole Shelby family including Michael, arrived at the doorstep, looking at the scene in front of them with their eyes locked and widened.

"Help me out here!"

As Polly commanded, everyone went inside. Tommy, John, and Arthur carried you gently before placing you on the dinner table that was filled with glasses and plates. Tommy removed the items on the table before Arthur placed you there. Michael and Ada quickly grabbed the first aid kit that was inside the kitchen room's wooden cabinet.

When Polly teared up your dress, she gasped.

"C.C.. Fucking Campbell," Polly's voice hissed, seeing the carved initials on your stomach, bleeding harshly.

Your breaths started to get faint and weaker, your body started to get cold.

"Stay with me, (y/n)," Ada whispered between sobs as she watched Polly do something with your wounds and help her aunt hand out the supplies that she needed.

"Fuck.. Fuck!" Tommy shouted, walking in circles as he rubbed his temples harshly.

"Arthur, John, Finn, Michael, find Campbell immediately!" he ordered.

"Bring me back his fucking head."

Michael and the brothers moved quickly, their actions a blur of rage and anger. They took immediate action after realizing this. With a mixture of terror and determination, their hands trembled as they took out their firearms from their pockets. The icy steel of the weapons was comforting, a guarantee of justice for the wrongs done.

They left the home without saying anything, the wooden door slamming shut behind them with a loud crash. They were barely aware of the sharp, biting night air. Their only thought was to locate the person who was responsible for this. 

"She isn't even part of this fucking shit and yet she was targeted,"

Polly's eyes shot daggers with Tommy's blue orbs while her hands focused on healing up the wounds all over your stomach.

"You better fucking catch him, Tommy."

As soon as Polly's done patching you up, she stormed out in front of her nephew, disappointed at him.

"I'll look out for (y/n). You heard Aunt Pol, catch that bastard," Ada said, fixing up the used cotton and alcohol before throwing it out.

Tommy sighed as he exited the house. Looking for the man who did this to you.

<>

You woke up with the sunlight beaming on you. Looking at your surroundings, you noticed where you were right away.

Slowly, you tried getting up but your body fell again, moaning in pain.

"Easy, (y/n). Don't move, your wounds are still fresh," Ada said, slowly guiding your back to allow you to lie down comfortably.

"A-Ada, I was so scared... I didn't know what was going on.."

Your eyes were starting to get wet until tears were dropping down your cheeks as you recalled what happened last night.

You were so traumatized. You didn't want to remember again. 

And that time, you knew that remembering is a curse.

"You're safe now, love. We're here now," Polly said, her arms locked with yours, giving you a comforting smile.

The door opened, and your brothers were there.

They immediately greeted you and asked how you were.

"God, love. I'm sorry that happened to you," your oldest brother, Arthur, said, gently combing your hair with his rough fingertips.

"It's okay, Arthur. I'm fine now,"

"We got him already," Finn remarked.

The gang leader showed up, his coat hanging on the chair. His footsteps echoed in the room as he approached you, placing his palms on your head.

"How are you now?" he asked, sighing.

"Fucking scared, Tom. I nearly died! This is fucked up."

"I know, (y/n). I know."

Polly stood up in the middle of the small argument, shutting the both of you. Her fists curl up like a ball, her brows knit together.

"Let her rest first, Tom. She had enough already," she said.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly before exiting the house.

Tommy felt simply anger and guilt. Even though his sister isn't involved in the business, she was the one targeted. She's currently in there getting better from the physical and emotional trauma she recently went through.

"You're safe now, love." Polly gave you a comforting smile before asking the other Shelby siblings for breakfast. 

"Thank you, Aunt Pol."

[xoxoavenger]

The Attack

pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

summary: Tommy's known for going out of his way to get to Y/N. What happens when they're both attacked and he's not permitted to see her?

word count: 1311

warnings: canon tyical violence (this is based off a specific episode but it's also been in my drafts as an idea for over two years)

12 Days of Christmas main masterlist

"Can we please just go?" Y/N begged. Her glass of whiskey was long finished, and she knew Tommy couldn't do anything more in the office. After his fight with Polly, she knew he would want to leave anyway. So he nodded, helped her into her coat, and off they went into the rain.

"Just gotta get to the garage," Tommy said over the rain, holding her hand tightly. They made it in no time, walking quickly to the car. She was holding an umbrella over herself, but Tommy was soaked; he always asked her not to hold her own umbrella over him, because then she would get wet and he didn't want that. As they approached the car and Y/N took down her umbrella, a man jumped out, gun in his hand pointed at Tommy's face.

Tommy put his hands up and backed away as the man pressed closer, and Y/N took out her own gun hidden her coat, pointing it at the man and dropping the umbrella. She wasn't shaking; this wasn't the first time she's had to hold a gun against a man. She was married to Tommy Shelby after all. Before she could even fire a warning shot, she was hit over the head from behind, sending her to the ground. She tried to get up as she saw Tommy getting beat up by six men, the sound of bones cracking sickening to her.

"Tommy!" She called out, trying to stand. The pain in her head was excruciating, her vision blurring and turning dark around the edges. Before she could get her gun back up, she was kicked in the head and knocked out, and Tommy was thankful for it because as soon as they had taken him down he was covered in blood. His only thoughts as he practically went limp with pain was of Y/N - he hoped they didn't kick her head in enough to kill her.

~

When Tommy woke up, he felt like he couldn't feel his body. It was all pain, like all his nerve endings had been set on fire. When he tried to open his eyes, he knew they were swollen. His mind went instantly to Y/N - where was she? Was she alive? Or was she dead? Even through his pain, he was able to open his eyes and move to stand except-

He couldn't stand. And not just because of the pain.

"What the fuck," He muttered, looking at the handcuffs that were tying him to the bed. He was just coming to, but he couldn't think of a reason why he would be handcuffed. It's not as if he was going to be arrested. He didn't do anything this time, and even if he did, he wouldn't be arrested; he knew all the officers.

"She's okay." Polly was in the corner, reading a book. Tommy snapped his neck to see her. He was in a hospital room, a small empty one with a small bed and the chair Polly was on. She didn't seem too concerned, which confused him.

"Get me the fuck out of here." He yanked on the chains again. He needed to go see Y/N, to go find her and make sure she was okay and then take care of the fuckers who did this.

"So you can go try and kill people?" She was still looking at the book. His brain was fuzzy, so he didn't know how to get out of this. He wasn't even sure why he was handcuffed.

"I need to go check on her." He said, but the two of them both knew that he was going straight to kill the men that attacked her as soon as he made sure she was okay. "Why was I arrested?"

"You can't go yet." Is all Polly says, nose still in her book. This is when he realized that he wasn't arrested - Polly had kept him here on purpose.

"Let me go." He seethed, anger filling him. How dare she keep him here when his wife was hurt, when he had business to attend to.

"No." The fact that she still hadn't looked at him made him angry.

"Poll," He starts, taking deep breaths to not lose his temper. It's not working very well. "You need to let me out."

"I actually need to keep you in." She fires back. "I am not going to clean up the mess when you try to kill everyone in sight." She turns the page of her book and it makes Tommy lose his mind.

"Why are you keeping her from me?" He yells, pulling against the handcuffs so hard it causes the skin on his wrists to break. He barely feels the pain; he can't even feel his face anymore.

"I'm not keeping her from you." She finally looks up at him, face serious enough to scare the shit out of Tommy. He lets her speak, heart racing fast enough to scare some of his anger away. "I'm keeping you away from her. She still hasn't woke up yet. You can't stomp in there while the physicians are hard at work trying to get her up." She tells him, and suddenly, he has too many emotions. He's guilty, because she wouldn't be in this position if he hadn't put her there. He's angry at Polly for not letting him see her. He's scared that she won't wake back up, that the last time he saw her alive was the image of her head being kicked in.

It's all too much. He can't fit these emotions in his body. His chest is suddenly too tight, his head fuzzy. He needs to get the fuck out of this room.

He doesn't break out of the cuffs, no, that would be far too difficult. Instead, He breaks the wooden bedpost right off the frame, splinters flying, and then the post was falling from between his hands. He was still cuffed, but he had full range of motion now. He turned to Polly, who was staring wide eyed at him.

"Tell me where she is right now."

~

When Y/N opened her eyes, she wished she could go back to sleep. Her head was killing her, and her entire body was sore. She blinked a couple times, trying to make out the unfamiliar room she was in. She had just figured out that she was at the hospital when she heard shouting in the hallway.

"Mr. Shelby, I understand, but it's really much better if you just wait to,"

"Get the fuck out of my way or I will shank you with a piece of this wall that I will pull out with my bare hands." The sound of her husband's deep voice startled her. He sounded so angry, like he was going actually going to kill this man that didn't do anything wrong.

"Mr. Shelby,"

"Tommy?" Y/N croaked out as she sat up, and Tommy was instantly in the room, his bruised face making her startle. "What happened to you face?"

"You're okay!" He disregarded what she said and came up to her, cupping her face and kissing her immediately. She smiled slightly, putting a hand on his own and moving it down to his wrist.

"What the fuck?" Y/N muttered as she pulled away, looking at the metal she had felt on his wrists. He looked as if he had forgotten all about them, wanting to go back to kissing. "What did you do?" She asked, trying to push him away slightly.

"I didn't do anything. My fucking aunt," He sighed, kissing Y/N once more. She didn't understand, but she figured if it had to do with Polly she would find out soon enough. She was just thankful Tommy was okay, that he was here with her.

"I love you." She whispers, and he just nods as he goes in for another kiss. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @jbrownta

[millers-girl]

before the dawn

chapter 5 of willow & whiskey

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you escape Kansas City with old and new friends, finally feeling like you might have something to hold onto. Then, morning comes.

warnings/tags: age gap, adult language, blood and violence, death

word count: 6.0k

series masterlist

"Henry?" You asked, eyes widening at the man before you. 

The moment he recognized your voice, he said your name – in the same disbelieving tone you'd used. 

From behind you, Joel––who had now also sat up and protectively pressed his chest to your back––said, “You know him?” 

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your chest as Henry put the gun away and reached out to wrap you up in a hug. Relief flooded through you, warmth spreading from the familiarity of an old friend in a world where such comforts were few and far between.

You couldn’t believe it was him, after all this time.

“Uh… what the fuck?” Ellie asked.

You pulled away, explaining, "Ellie, Joel, this is Henry. He was in the Boston QZ for a bit when we were little. Henry, this is Ellie, and this is my – uh, Joel."

Henry introduced Sam, his younger brother, to the group before waving to Ellie and reaching a hand out to Joel. “Hey, man, sorry about the rude awakening." Joel shrugged, making Henry drop his hand before turning back to you. "Not very talkative, huh?"

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly. "Oh, you have no idea." After a moment, you asked, "Henry, what's going on? What are you doing here – what’s with the gun?”

Henry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, tension settling into his frame. "I'm the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now, my guess is you guys are running a close second."

You could tell this was going to be a long story.

Your gaze flicked back to Joel before you shuffled out of bed and went to grab a flashlight and some rations. You let the flashlight light up the dark room and offered the food to Henry and Sam. They dug in like they hadn’t eaten in days. The sight twisted something in your chest. 

You tossed some crackers at Ellie, too. 

Then, you settled back down next to Joel, criss-crossing your legs and leaning against him. The contact was instinctive, grounding. You shared your crackers with him, feeling the tension in his frame ease slightly as he accepted. 

“Where’d you get these?” Henry asked between bites, scarfing down the sandwiches you’d given him and his brother; it tasted like food from before and he slowed his chewing to savor the taste.

Ellie answered through a mouthful, "From Bill. He's dead."

Your eyes lifted to Joel, who wrapped the remainder of his crackers in his napkin and passed it over to Sam. The quiet gesture left a faint smile on your lips, your heart squeezing at the silent kindness buried beneath all that gruff.

Sam signed thank you, which Henry relayed. "I'm guessing you don't have much, so this means a lot."

You smiled warmly at them before resting your back against Joel’s shoulder, the warmth of him radiating through your tee. “How did you get here from Boston?”

Henry told the story then, his voice thick with memories of his mother dragging them from one QZ to the next in search of something better. But each stop had been the same – fear, cruelty, desperation. And then Sam had come along, the only good thing to come from all that movement. Unfortunately, Sam’s father didn't make it. And, in the end, neither did their mother. When it was just the two brothers, they settled in Kansas City. 

"Shit," you murmured after he finished. That was heavy.

The room fell into a silence, only the sound of Ellie and Sam’s quiet chewing filling the space. When everyone was done eating, Joel straightened, already sensing where your thoughts were going and cutting them off before you could even voice them.

"Look, you ate, we didn't kill each other. Let's call this a win-win and move on."

Henry was quick to respond, "Well, I'm betting you all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up, I'll show you one."

You were already eagerly nodding your head. Before Joel could get another word out, you clapped your hands together. “Great! We’ll pick this back up in the morning then.” 

Joel sent you a pointed look, but you just smiled sweetly at him. He let you have that, for now.

Later, as everyone settled in for the night, Henry took up a spot next to you.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, shaking his head. 

“I can’t believe you are,” you whispered back, voice laced with an exhausted kind of excitement. “What are the chances?” 

He hesitated, then admitted, “I missed you. Wish my mom had never moved us out of Boston. I kinda liked it there – I mean, with you, Jules… Nate. Shit, everyone must look so different now.” He took in your silence. “Oh.” 

You were quick to correct him. “Jules is okay, as far as I know. She left the QZ a couple years back when some traders came through from Florida… I think she had enough of the nor’easters.” 

Henry quietly chuckled at that. “What about Nate?” When you didn’t offer up any explanation, he sighed defeatedly. “That sucks.” 

You nodded.

“So, it’s just you and Ellie now?” He asked at last.

“Me, Ellie, and Joel,” you corrected, eyes drifting to his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful – a rare sight. After a beat, you tore your gaze from Joel and turned back to your childhood friend. “Why is the resistance looking for you?” 

And, so, he told you. A few years ago, Sam had gotten sick with leukemia. The little supply of treatment there was belonged to FEDRA. In order to get it, Henry had betrayed one of his closest friends, the leader of the resistance’s brother. 

“Shit,” you mumbled. “But Sam’s okay now?” Henry nodded. “Then, you did what you needed to do. You did what anyone in your shoes would’ve done. What I would’ve done for Ellie. You shouldn’t feel shame about it. You kept him alive.” 

“But at what cost?” he whispered. 

“Is there a cost you wouldn’t pay to keep Sam safe?” You asked quietly. Henry shook his head, no hesitation. “Then, that’s all that matters.” 

He nodded slowly, sighing deeply before looking down at his watch. “Guess we should get some sleep.” 

“Guess so,” you echoed, stretching. “Why don’t you take my bed?” 

His brows furrowed. “You sure?” 

You nodded. “I can share with Joel.” 

“He’s good with that?” 

You grinned. “He’s gonna have to be.” 

You grabbed your hoodie and Joel’s jacket and shuffled over to his bed. “Move over,” you whispered, forcing your way into his space. He groaned but complied, shifting to make room for you. When you draped his jacket over the both of you, he sighed in reluctant contentment.

Even as your eyes fluttered shut, you could feel his mind running a mile a minute beside you. 

“Stop worrying so much,” you mumbled. “You know, it causes wrinkles.” 

Stoic as ever, he replied, “Funny.” 

You leaned back a little, eyes now open and staring up at his face. The dim glow of the moon barely outlined his features, shadowing the creases of concern etched into his forehead. His own eyes flickered open, staring back.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, voice softer now.

Another stoic response. “How we’re gonna ditch ‘em in the morning.”

You lightheartedly pushed at his shoulder. “You’re not funny.” 

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be.” His voice was steady. After a beat, he added, “Five’s a lotta mouths to feed. Food’s not gonna last to Wyoming.” 

Your hand came up to fiddle with the button of his flannel, the rough fabric distracting you. “Why’re you talking about Wyoming?” 

“Cause you’re gonna ask ‘em to come along, aren't ya?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re too smart for your own good, Miller.” He let out a single breathy laugh at that, the warmth of it ghosting over your cheek. “... Is it okay? If I ask them, I mean…”

“You’re askin’ me?” 

“Five’s a lot of mouths to feed,” you echoed. 

A moment later, Joel asked, “You trust him? Even though you haven’t seen him in years?” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. “I do.” 

He shut his eyes, letting out a tired sigh. “Then, it’s fine by me.” 

You blinked up at him. “That’s it? No interrogation? Million questions?” 

Joel hummed. You turned, resting your back against his front. 

“You really are turning into a softie.”

He hummed again, the slow rise and fall of his chest lulling you into sleep.

In the morning, Henry brought you all to a meeting room on the top floor with a wide wall of windows, the perfect view of Kansas City stretched out below. 

"Welcome to Killa City."

The sky was a dull gray, heavy clouds looming over the streets that had seen too much blood. The remnants of chaos were everywhere – burned-out cars, shattered windows… but no Infected.

"No FEDRA," you noted, shuddering as you sat on the table and ate granola for breakfast. "I always heard KC FEDRA were..."

Henry nodded. "Monsters, savages. Raped and tortured and murdered people for 20 years. And, when the people got the first chance, they did it right back to them."

"But you're not FEDRA?" Joel asked, his posture tense, arms crossed over his chest like a barrier.

"Worse. I'm a collaborator."

Joel was immediately shaking his head and taking a step back, towards you. 

"I don't work with rats." 

He glanced back at you, seeing you shoot him that same look again. It’s gonna be okay.

He huffed out an irritated breath, but stayed put.

Henry chuckled, though there was little humor in it. "Yeah, you do. Today, you do cause I live here and you don't. I know the city, and that's how I'm gonna help you get out."

Joel’s jaw tensed as he glanced between you and Henry, his distrust thick enough to choke on. "Why help us?"

"Because that girl right there – she’s my oldest friend. I owe a lot to her; she's the reason I'm standing here today. And now, it's not just Sam and I anymore. We have numbers. I can show you the way and we can clear the way. I saw what you did – the way you killed those men. You can fight. We can make it through alive, all of us."

Your thoughts were cut off by Ellie and Sam laughing, their giggles slicing through the tension like a knife.

"Haven't heard that in a long time," Henry murmured, eyes meeting yours. 

You nodded in agreement. “It sure is something.” 

You took a moment to thank the heavens above for Ellie. No matter what happened in this shitty new world, she always remained so full of life, bringing out the best in every situation. Giving you something to live for. 

Your gaze shifted to Joel, whose eyes were already locked on you. There was something rare and soft in them. 

After a moment, he nodded his head. "Okay, we're in. Tell us the plan."

A few hours later, your group of five was heading through the bank and down into the maintenance tunnels, the damp air thick and musty. Every footstep echoed off the concrete walls.

“This should be it,” Henry informed, making you turn to Joel.

“You ready to get out of this shithole of a city?” You asked, grinning up at him before wincing and turning to Henry. “No offense.” 

Henry huffed a quiet laugh. “None taken.” 

“Get your gun out,” Joel instructed Ellie as you made your way past the first door, finding an empty, damp corridor.

Henry grinned. “See, it’s empty. Plan is good.” 

You chuckled, walking past Joel as he muttered, “Plan is good? We’ve been here two minutes. We don’t know anything.” 

Henry winced, turning to Ellie. “Your dad’s kind of a pessimist.”

Your laughter echoed through the tunnels as both Joel and Ellie simultaneously denied the claim and the former pulled you back to him, hand clamped gently over your mouth. “What did we say about staying quiet?” 

You rolled your eyes, prying his fingers away. “It’s creepier when we’re quiet.” You motioned towards the dark tunnels ahead. 

“It’s safer,” Joel corrected, watching you frown. “Stay behind me.” 

At the half-win, you smiled to yourself, knowing that no matter how much he fought it, some part of him was always watching out for you.

At some point, Sam complained of being tired and you happily offered to give him a piggy-back. “It’ll be like flying,” you promised, crouching down so he could climb onto your back. His small arms wrapped around your shoulders, legs dangling as you clasped your hands behind his knees. 

You grinned as you exaggerated your movements, swaying dramatically from side to side, spinning around, and leaning forward as if you were about to take off into the air. 

His quiet laughter melted your heart, bright and full of life. Even Joel didn’t have it in him to tell him to keep it down. 

For the next hour, your group weaved through the tunnel system, boots scraping softly against the concrete floor. The smell in the stale air was the kind that clung to your clothes and skin.

Eventually, you arrived at an entrance marked by a door, the walls surrounding it drawn over with chalk sketches of castles and flowers. 

“Woah,” you murmured, shifting Sam gently off your back.

Joel went through first, and you peeked your head over his shoulder to see what lay ahead. The space inside was surprisingly large, filled with remnants of what once must have been a daycare or school. Crayons and papers littered the tables, toys were scattered messily across the floor, and in one corner, a ready nook sat abandoned but strangely inviting, the worn cushions still holding the shape of past occupants. 

"I heard about places like this,” Joel said, his voice softer than usual as he took in the remnants of the past. “People went underground after Outbreak Day and built settlements."

"What happened to them?" Ellie asked, fingers skimming over a dust-covered picture book.

Joel shrugged. "Maybe they didn't follow the rules, got infected."

Ellie hummed before sitting beside Sam at a low table, where miniature cars and comic books lay waiting for hands to bring them back to life. You, Joel, and Henry continued exploring, but your attention was drawn to the faded drawings on the wall. Small hands had once pressed against this surface, creating bright colors in the darkness.

The sound of laughter pulled you from your thoughts. “To the edge of the universe and back. Endure and survive,” Ellie said dramatically, lowering her voice. 

She called your name, making you turn with a fond smile. “What is it, love?” 

"Can we rest here for a while? There's actually shit to do here."

You saw no harm in it. "Yeah, babe. Why don't you and Sam play for a bit?” 

Henry nodded in agreement. “Can't hurt to wait out the light, show up on the other side of the tunnels with darkness on our side."

Everyone turned to Joel, who, after a moment, relented with a small nod. The kids wasted no time in kicking around a soccer ball, their joy filling the hollow space.

 You tossed off your pack, sinking into a chair as you pulled out your book. If you all were staying for a bit, you may as well get comfortable.

Henry whistled at the sight. “You making your way through the classics?”

You giggled, thumbing the worn pages. “No time like the end of the world to catch up on your reading goals, right?”

“Guess not,” he chuckled. “Is it any good?” 

Your gaze flickered to Joel, who was silently pacing. “It’s getting really good,” you murmured, before turning back to Henry with a laugh. “I can’t believe you thought Ellie was Joel’s daughter.” 

Henry groaned at that. “I thought she was your and Joel’s daughter.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “You thought me and Joel…”

His confusion deepened. “You guys aren’t…?” 

You floundered, heat rising to your cheeks. “No, we are… I mean – I think we are… I mean – “ You groaned in frustration before waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s talk about something else, huh?” 

As you settled back into your book, Joel eventually came to sit beside you, the chair creaking beneath his weight. You stretched your arms high above your head, a tired sigh escaping as your back arched. The motion made your shirt ride up, exposing a silver of your stomach to the cool air.

Before you even noticed, Joel’s fingers brushed against your skin as he wordlessly tugged your shirt back down. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t mention it. Instead, you focused on the warmth of his arm, now resting lazily along the back of your chair. 

“Ugh, it’s so nice having other people around,” you started. 

"You guys don't run into a lot of other people?" Henry asked, gaze flickering toward Joel's casual, yet telling, placement.

You shrugged, smirking. "We're probably not the best company anyway, with Grumpy over here." 

Joel shot you a look, but the hardness in his eyes softened when you giggled. “I’m teasing.” 

The elated shrieks from Ellie and Sam pulled your attention away for a second. Then, Joel turned back to Henry, exhaling. “Listen, if you were collaboratin' to take care of him… I shouldn't have said what I said. I don't know your situation."

You smiled to yourself, inching closer to the space under Joel’s arm. It was a small thing, but seeing him acknowledge his mistakes felt like a quiet victory – like you were watching him grow as a person and loving every little step you were seeing.

"And I'm not saying they should let it go but, seems kinda cruel to send a whole army after you for that."

Henry sighed, hesitating. "You know… I wasn't, uh, exactly telling you the truth before... about me not killing someone."

He explained to Joel about Sam’s leukemia, about betraying Kathleen for medicine. When he finished, his laughter was hollow. “Still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?"

Joel didn’t answer right away.

Henry scoffed. "I don't know what you're waiting on. The answer's easy: I am the bad buy because I did a bad guy thing." 

“No, you’re not,” you said firmly, voice sharper now. “Doing something bad when you're desperate doesn't make you bad. It just makes you human." 

Henry shrugged. "I feel like a bad guy. But you get it, though, right, Joel? You might not be Ellie's father... but you were someone's... See, I could tell." 

Sarah.

You looked up at Joel, watching his face freeze before hardening to stone once more. 

You reached out instinctively, but before you could touch him, he abruptly stood.

“We’ve waited long enough. Ellie, grab your pack. Let's get a move on." 

Without another look back, he slung his own pack over his shoulder and walked toward the unexplored end of the tunnel.

Henry and you pulled up the back, and your old friend mumbled, “Not one for dwelling on the past, huh?” 

You offered an apologetic smile. “Not really… Sorry.” 

When the moon came up, your group made it through to the other side successfully, without any issues from Kathleen's people or Infected. Relief settled over you, but the tension in your shoulders refused to fade completely. The quiet here was unsettling, the kind that made your stomach twist with unease. 

“No one’s here,” you mumbled, glancing around the abandoned suburban neighborhood. The wind rattled a loose street sign, the only sound in the eerie stillness.

“I know,” Henry agreed. “And no one’s gonna be, because my plan worked.” He grinned triumphantly.

From up front, Joel commented, “So much goddamn talkin’,” but there wasn’t a hint of malice in his tone.

Even Ellie noticed, and it made her grin.

Henry nudged your side, making you turn to him. “Didn’t I deliver? I mean, I did, didn’t I? I delivered.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling. “You delivered,” you confirmed, making him fist-bump the air.

“Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house… and we’re out,” Henry instructed. 

You could taste freedom, happy to be done with Kansas City and leave it behind like a bad dream.

“So, we cross the river and then what?” Ellie asked Henry. “Where are you gonna go?” 

Joel glanced back at you.

“Don’t know yet,” Henry answered. 

“We’re going to Wyoming,” you said, opening up the topic. “Why don’t you and Sam… come with us?” 

Henry hesitated, his eyes flicking to Joel. “You want us to? All of you?” 

You silently nodded, speaking for Joel, before Ellie cut you off. 

“Oh, if you’re worried about Joel, don’t be. He’ll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” She lowered her voice, mimicking Joel. “He’s like, ‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.’ And then I’m like, “I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like – “ 

A gunshot rang through the air, cutting Ellie off as the bullet landed mere feet from her.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as instinct took over. You grabbed Ellie, yanking her back behind an abandoned car. Joel crouched on her other side, Henry and Sam scrambling behind.

“Where the fuck is that coming from?” you gasped as another bullet whizzed past, this time shattering the window above you. 

“What do we do?” Henry asked.

Joel moved carefully, peeking around the car. When he leaned back, his eyes met yours. “Aright. You and Ellie, stay here.” 

Your fingers dug into his arm before you even registered the motion. “What?” 

“If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I’ll take him out.” 

Your stomach twisted. 

“If you go out there, he’s gonna kill you,” Ellie voiced exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s dark, and he has shit aim. Nobody’s gonna kill me.” 

You swallowed hard. “This is a terrible plan.”

Joel’s gaze softened. “Do you trust me?”

Your throat felt tight. “You know I do. Asshole.” 

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips before he reached up, cupping your cheek with a rough, calloused hand. The warmth of his palm calmed you, just a bit.

“If you die doing this…” you murmured, “I’ll kill you.” 

He squeezed your cheek gently before slipping away into the darkness.

Minutes passed slowly. Then – a shout. An engine revving.

“Fuck,” you breathed, pulling the safety off your gun.

In a moment, a massive truck barreled through abandoned cars. The ground shook beneath you as chaos erupted. A sniper – Joel, you realized with relief – began firing at the truck. You barely had time to react before the vehicle crashed head first into a house in the corner. The leaking gasoline caused an explosion, beginning to break the concrete ground beneath.

You pushed Ellie towards a car to hide behind, Henry and Sam right behind you. “Are you okay?” You whispered to Ellie, watching as she nodded quickly, eyes gazing over your shoulder at the fire. 

“Dead end, Henry,” came an unfamiliar voice – likely, Kathleen’s. “Gonna step on out? Save us some time?” 

Henry’s eyes met yours, and you quietly shook your head. 

“No? That’s alright. Doesn’t matter,” she taunted.

For a brief second, Henry glanced at Sam, then shut his eyes. 

No. 

“I’ll come out,” he shouted. “Just let everyone else go.” 

“No, sorry,” Kathleen replied. “The girls are with the man who killed Bryan, and Sam… well, Sam’s with you.” 

“You don’t understand,” Henry tried. 

“But, I do. I know why you did what you did. But, did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?” 

What the fuck? 

“He’s just a fucking kid,” Henry argued. 

“Well, kids die all the time, Henry. You think the world revolves around him? That he’s worth everything?” 

This woman had clearly never loved someone unconditionally before. Sparing a glance down at Ellie, you decided – yeah, actually, the world did revolve around her. She was worth everything.

“This is what happens when you fuck with fate,” Kathleen continued.

You made eye contact with Henry again, and this time, the look he gave you was different, but you deciphered it nonetheless.

“Get ready to take Sam and run,” he whispered to you.

You were already shaking your head, a lump forming in your throat. “I’m not leaving you,” you said, voice breaking. His gaze narrowed, begging you and finally, you relented and let out a nod, if only to appease him.

“Okay,” Henry agreed aloud before standing up to meet Kathleen’s eyes. 

She cocked her gun, ready to take his life, but a sudden creaking caught her attention – caught everyone’s attention. Even you glanced up over the hood of the car, and saw the truck on fire begin to sink into the ground. 

A deep groaning rumbled through the ground.

The earth cracked.

For a second, everything was quiet. 

Then, the swarm emerged.

Hundreds of Infected clawed their way to their surface, snarling and screeching as they quickly made their way for whoever was closest.

Your pulse skyrocketed, primal terror taking over. “Run,” you ordered, shoving Ellie and Sam ahead. “Go, go, go!”

At some point, Henry grabbed Sam and you pushed Ellie forward just as an Infected tackled you. You hit the ground hard, the air punched from your lungs. Clawed hands scrambled for your throat.

A gunshot rang out, and suddenly the weight disappeared. 

You gasped, blinking up to see a familiar silhouette on the top floor of the house.

Joel. 

You bolted upright, frantically scanning for Ellie. Her ponytail caught your eye just as she was trapped inside a car, with an Infected.

“Oh, my God,” you choked out, yanking the door open. Ellie fell into your arms, and you held her tightly for just a moment before grabbing her hand and startlingly looking around for Henry and Sam. 

They were trapped beneath a car, Infected clawing at them from outside.

You met Joel’s eyes. A single nod. That was all it took.

You maneuvered through Infected, shooting and stabbing – and Joel caught whoever you missed – until you reached the pair. 

You helped Henry out while Ellie pulled Sam free, leading him towards the embankment. You followed right after her, hand clutching Henry’s in a death grip, never looking back at the sound of screeching and gunfire. 

You didn’t look back until another set of hands rested on your waist – a familiar, large, calloused pair of hands. A shuddering breath left you, and you dropped Henry’s hand and reached back to interlace your fingers with Joel’s. His grip was firm, grounding. You clung to it as the five of you ran, as if letting go would make everything behind you catch up and drag you under.

The night swallowed the chaos of the city behind you, leaving only your ragged breaths and hurried footfalls echoing against the empty streets of the KC suburbs. You didn’t stop running until your legs burned and your chest ached, until you’d reached a beat-down motel on the outskirts of town.

Ellie and Sam were in the bedroom, quietly murmuring to each other as they flipped through their comic book. You, Joel, and Henry rested in the dimly lit living room, the silence between you thick.

Henry ate quietly, his movements slow and mechanical.

You hadn’t let go of Joel’s hand since the bridge. Not when you stopped to catch your breath. Not when you settled against the motel wall.

Now, your interlaced hands lay in your lap, your head resting against his shoulder, the weight of his presence tethering you.

He passed you a bottle of water, and you took a sip, letting the cool liquid wash away the taste of ash in your mouth.

Henry finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “You think they’ll be okay?” His gaze was fixed on Ellie and Sam in the next room.

Joel exhaled slowly, his free hand lifting to brush the stray hairs from your face. “Yeah, I think… it’s easier when you’re a kid anyway. You don’t have anybody else relyin’ on you… that’s the hard part.” 

Henry let out a humourless chuckle, taking another slow bite. “Well, I guess we're doing a good job then.” 

Joel hummed in agreement, his head tilting slightly so it rested against yours. “What’s that comic book say, baby? Endure and survive?” 

“Endure and survive,” you murmured, the words settling heavily in your chest.

“That shit’s redundant,” Henry commented, making you let out a single breathy laugh. 

Joel’s fingers tightened briefly around yours, assuring himself you were still there, still good. After a beat, he turned back to Henry, voice dropping low.

“Look, I don’t know how we’re gettin’ to Wyoming. We’re probably walkin’...” 

Your throat tightened; you blinked rapidly against the sting in your eyes, willing yourself to hold it together. For what he was trying to say. For the chaos of the day. For the overwhelming emotions of it all. 

“Yeah?” Henry asked, turning to you. You sniffled, nodding vigorously. “Yeah. I – I think it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend… Nice for me to have mine, too.” You looked up, meeting his eyes. The shared look between you felt like a glimmer of hope. “I’ll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

You and Henry moved to the bedroom, helping Ellie and Sam settle in for the night. As you tucked Ellie in, you gently asked, “You okay?” 

She hesitated then nodded, looking up at you. “That was scary.” 

“It was,” you said softly, running your fingers down her arm to gently grab her hand before pressing a kiss to the back of it.

She glanced over at Sam’s sleeping form. “I’m glad they’re here. They feel like family.” 

The words brought a small smile to your lips. “They are,” you whispered. “I’m glad they’re here, too. Now, get some sleep, love.” 

After the kids had fallen asleep, and Henry began prepping his sleeping bag as well, you caught Joel’s eye and nodded towards the door, silently asking him to follow.

Outside, the night air was crisp. You leaned against the railing, head tilting back to take in the starry sky.

The quiet click of the door shutting signaled Joel’s presence. Before he could say anything, you closed the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself against him. 

He didn’t hesitate. His arms came around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. The tension in your body melted, just a little.

“Thanks for having my back today,” you murmured against his shoulder, feeling him tighten his hold.

“I’m always gonna have your back.” 

His voice was thick, low – certain.

You pulled back just enough to look at him. “Mean it?” you whispered, your gaze flickering between his eyes and lips.

“Mean it,” he promised, hand sliding up to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed gently over your skin before he finally––finally––closed the gap between you. 

The kiss was soft, but not hesitant – it was a long time coming. You leaned into him, breath catching and it undid him completely. As you curled your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, he groaned softly, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him.

It was everything – impossibly too much and not enough, all at once.

When you finally broke apart, both of you stayed close, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. “C’mon. Let’s go get some sleep.” 

You nodded, but neither of you moved right away. You stayed right there, pressed against him, as if letting go would make this all turn into a dream somehow, slipping through your fingers.

He pressed a quick second kiss to your lips before finally letting you out of his grasp.

Inside, you curled against Joel’s side, his jacket draped over you both your hoodie acting as a pillow under your heads. Just like always, only now – everything had changed.

You were nearly afraid to fall asleep, afraid that doing so would make the world crash in too soon.

And maybe it did.

Because when you woke, it was to Ellie’s screams, frantic and sharp as she and Sam came barreling into the room. Ellie tripped to the ground and Sam landed on top of her, snarling. His small frame looked twisted and wrong.

He’d turned.

Joel reacted before you could, sitting up and reaching for his gun, but Henry got to it first.

“Nope, nope, nope!” He shouted, gun pointed at you and Joel as you both looked helplessly between Ellie and Henry. 

You went to take a step towards Ellie, but Henry shot at your feet, making you stumble back into Joel. 

Ellie’s cries for you and Joel tore through you, but Henry wouldn’t let you move. It was all you could do to gape at Henry with a look that begged him to let you help her.

In one final desperate act, Henry turned the gun towards the kids and pulled the trigger. The force was enough to push Sam’s lifeless body off of Ellie.

She sobbed loudly, tripping over herself to find you and you instantly held her tightly, eyes never leaving Henry’s. 

He stared at Sam, at the blood seeping onto the carpet, Sam’s blood. 

Henry’s world crumbled before him.

Suddenly, the gun was back up, now facing you, Joel and Ellie. 

“Easy, easy,” Joel tried, voice soft as he held his hands up. “Henry, give me the gun.” 

Henry’s breath became uneven as he glanced around the room, eyes always finding Sam – he was starting to have a panic attack.

“Henry,” you gently called, meeting his eyes as they brimmed with tears. “Henry, it’s okay,” you said, voice quivering. “You’re – “ 

“What did I do?” Henry asked, voice barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of his grief. 

“Shh,” Joel tried. “Henry, give me the gun.” 

“What did I do? What – wha – what did I do?” He turned once again to his brother. “Sam?” 

“Henry,” Joel tried again, pushing you and Ellie behind him now. “Gimme the gun. Gimme the gun, Henry.” 

Henry glanced at Joel before his eyes met yours, wide and full of shock. “I’m sorry.” 

Your breath hitched. “Henry – ”

He turned the gun onto himself, pulling the trigger before you could even blink.

“Henry, no!” Joel shouted, as Henry’s body thudded to the ground.

Ellie let out a wail, and you pulled her closer, but you could feel your own body shake with terror. Your own tears blurred your vision as your breath became ragged. You couldn’t tell when Joel had pulled you and Ellie out of the room, but as soon as the fresh air hit your face, bile rose in your lurching stomach.

You fell to your knees, heaving until there was nothing left.

Joel’s hand was warm on your back, steadying, but the world felt unbearably cold.

You didn’t remember digging their graves, only the silence that hung over you all as you stood before them.

Ellie wrote something on Sam’s etch-a-sketch and left it on his grave. I’m sorry.

You traced the dirt of Henry's grave with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry, too,” you mumbled, before picking up your hoodie and putting on your backpack.

“Which way’s west?” Ellie softly asked, barely meeting your or Joel’s eyes. Joel nudged his head in the general direction. And she began walking.

You followed.

Joel behind you.

Again, no one knew what to say.

.

.

.

taglist: @orcasoul @lizlil @littleshadow17 @joeldjarin @mrsyixingunicorn10 @luvwanda @escaping-reality8 @hoddystark @mmkkzz @victoriaholland @xodilfluvr @ilovetoomanymen @21tao @mystickittytaco

[prodbymaui]

LET THE WORLD BURN — 이동혁.

this is how it always had to end. if I can't have you, no one can

PAIRING: lee donghyuck x reader

GENRE: the crazy and his lovely

WORD COUNT: 2k words

WARNINGS: violence, gore, torture (brief), mentions of no remorse, kingpin!haechan, public sex (club)

SYNOPSIS: Haechan wakes up without you beside him, and later at night, he found you flirting with another man. Too bad, because for him— if he can't have you, no one can.

A/N: another dark-ish fic for haechan, inspired by this tiktok even tho it has no connection lmaoooo. hope you enjoy reading!

NOW PLAYING... LET THE WORLD BURN BY CHRIS GREY !

One would squint their eyes, losing themselves to the rhythm of blasting music as they let the dizzy haze caused by the alcohol consume their body— but not him. Bright lights flashes across Haechan’s face amidst the initial darkness of the room. The whiskey sloshes inside his rocks glass, circling the ice. Despite drinking the same liquor ever since the sky got dark, Haechan doesn’t feel lighthearted nor tipsy from it.

Instead, he gets drunk on the way your black body con dress hugs your curves perfectly, accentuating the physical features he desires so much it hurts to admit it. Every shadow created by your form and the flickering lights inside the club sends his cock stiffening as the clock ticks.

You’re so fucking beautiful. That kind of face he would be ecstatic to show off hanging by his arm as he tells the world that you’re his and no one else’s. 

So imagine how much it wounds him when he woke up this morning and founds out that the other side of the bed had gone cold. Too cold that the other parts of his penthouse feels icy as well, showing no signs of life other than his– if he’s even alive.

The streets say coming across Haechan is worse than meeting death. From his blank yet chilling stare to his unwavering decisions on the lives of people that wronged him. He’s neither remorseful nor guilty from all the blood that covered his skin. Turn the lights on, he phrases. The set of words made rounds and established itself as something one wouldn’t wish to hear. Because Haechan doesn’t usually handle problems himself, most of the time it’s his goons that does it. But when he takes matter in to his own hands? He doesn’t just kill them. He sucks the life out of them.

And now, as he watches you exchange giggles with someone, looking happier then you were with him– Haechan feels the green hue of jealousy running through his veins, pumping the same hue to the every inch of his body.

Is he the reason why you left him this morning? Is he the reason why you’re not beside Haechan, batting your pretty eyes and whispering sweet pleas against his ears?

The rocks glass previously on his hold is now on the table as Haechan walks where you are seated. He dangles the unopened bottle of whiskey in front of the man’s face, catching both of your attention. You stand up, mouth agape, as you leave the man alone on the couch.

“Hyuck?”

Your call of his name falls to deaf ears. And a rather numbing series of screams fills your ears after Haechan smashes the glass bottle on the man’s head, sending him laying on the couch bleeding and unmoving. 

Haechan walks around the table separating the both of them and picks him up in a sitting position by his collar. “Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”

He shoves the man’s chest and pulls out his gun. Three resounding gunshots ring inside the club, each closely shot in no more than an arm away from the man’s face. There’s no patrons left in the dance floor, none on the couches and seats as well. Except for the staffs who are rushing to close the doors, and the group of men sitting in the balcony of VIP section, Haechan’s men.

You watch as he picks up the neck of the shattered bottle, and winces when he gauges the pair of eyeballs, throwing it somewhere for his staff to find out later. Now there are six holes in Jeon In-su’s face. Two for his eye sockets, one for his mouth, one on his forehead, and one on the each side of his cheeks.

Haechan throws away the bottle, wiping down his bloodied hands on his pants. Then, he turns to you.

A hitched breath interrupts your lungs, observing the remaining blood stains on his skin.

“Am I next… ?”

Haechan lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. He caresses your cheek, gaze drifting to your lips. “Oh yes, you are. I’ve got a lot of things coming for you, pretty.”

A smile stretches your face as Haechan surges for a deep torrid kiss, almost immediately diving his tongue in your mouth. It’s messy and full of spit. Normally, you wouldn’t want to ruin your look and makeout beside a corpse but nothing is normal when it comes to Lee Donghyuck.

He picks you up by a hand wrapped around your waist and another on your leg, blindly striding towards the counter. Placing you on top of it, his kisses travels to your neck, littering bruises anywhere his mouth could reach. Haechan’s hands then busies themselves exploring your body, arriving at the hem of your dress. He gathers fabric just enough to fit in his fist and bunches it upwards past your hips.

The pads of his fingers comes in contact with your soaked panties, earning a whimper from you and a pleased hum from Haechan. Oh how he loves being reminded how much effect he has on you. He’s blissful as he feels the slimy wetness coating his fingers, almost letting him slide in with no trouble.

“Donghyuck..”

The man hums in response to your call, dragging your dress’ padded chest area and tugs it downwards, revealing your breasts together with your nipples perked up just as how Haechan likes it. His mouth leaves no space of time, immediately coming down to suck on your bud loudly while the other plays with it to bring the same amount of pleasure.

You draw your head back, eyes close shut, basking in attention and near worshipping Haechan is doing to your body. The way he lick every part he lays his eyes on. The sound he makes when he tastes you on his fingers. The unconsciously desperate humps of his hips against your knee. There’s no hint of him masking it nor desire of hiding it in privacy. After all, it is no secret that you are Haechan’s kryptonite.

You’re all he needs to crumble down.

“Fuck,” A smirk curls on your lips at the breathless whisper from the man. Your hand finds itself tangled in Haechan’s hair, pulling his head backwards as you press you lips against his ears.

“Say it,” You peck the side of his head lightly. “Say it, Donghyuck. Let them hear you.”

Haechan shivers in your hold. Groaning at the loss of feeling your nipples on his tongue, he meets your eyes, lids heavy and seemingly short of air. “Darling.. please, let me taste you.”

You chuckle softly, satisfied by his pleas and the obvious shock on his goons’ faces. They try hard not to listen, to ignore whatever goes down between the two of you and focus on watching the surroundings on alert. Yet the rare image of their kingpin begging makes it hard to do so.

At your approval, Haechan sinks down to his knees in no time and dives his face deep in your cunt. You moan, leaning back as you use your palms as a leverage, gasping following Haechan’s tongue gliding across your pussy before slurping your juices. He grips your thigh, even more fueled by the sweet taste on his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” His tongue, a weapon honed by years of intimidation, now trembles as it explores the hidden depths within you. Each thrust is a controlled explosion, a release of the simmering tension that built between you.

"Haechan–! Fuck!" Your voice, usually a silken whisper, is now a raw, desperate plea. It is a sound that resonates deep within him, a reminder of the power you hold over him.

He pins you down, his grip not entirely gentle, but not the brutal dominance he usually exudes. There is a subtle tremor in his hands, a barely perceptible shift in his gaze, as if he is struggling to maintain control.

His lips devour you, not with the predatory hunger of a wolf, but with a focused intensity that borders on obsession. His fingers, usually instruments of control, now move with a frantic urgency, each stroke a desperate attempt to reach a crescendo.

As your climax nears, your body convulses beneath him, a symphony of pleasure and surrender. Donghyuck watches, his gaze unwavering, as your eyes roll back, your name escaping your lips in a series of broken gasps.

In that moment, the kingpin, the man who rules the underworld, is nothing more than a man, utterly consumed by your pleasure. The fear he instills in others is replaced by a quiet desperation, a subtle crumble in his facade, a reminder that even the most powerful men can be brought to their knees by the sheer force of your desire.

He pulls away abruptly, a primal need surging through him. Rising to his feet, he begins to strip, his movements a blur of dark intent. He returns, a vision of raw power, his pants and boxers discarded, revealing a magnificent specimen – long, thick, and crowned with an angry tip.

Haechan pumps his cock, his gaze fixed on your flushed face, on the way your breath hitches in your throat.

You meet his gaze, a defiant glint in your own eyes. "Go on."

A slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. "As you wish."

He nudges your legs open, a low growl escaping his throat as his cock breaches the entrance, the friction igniting a fire within you. You arch your back, meeting his thrust with your own, a silent challenge.

"You're more eager than I anticipated," he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

You simply smirk, a silent invitation to continue.

He wraps his hand around your knee, folding your body until it touches the cool, hard surface of the counter, deepening the thrust, a painful pleasure that makes you gasp. "Fuck– do you see that, darling? Look at your stomach, shit, it's bulging. Am I too big for your tight pussy?"

He pins you against the counter, his weight heavy, his gaze intense.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

You meet his gaze, your own filled with a mixture of pleasure and defiance. "Exceedingly."

"Good. You should be." He plows into you, a relentless rhythm that blurs your vision, white spots dancing before your eyes.

You grip the edge of the counter, your nails digging into the cool surface, a low moan escaping your lips. "Harder."

He smirks, increasing the pace and intensity of his thrusts. "As you wish."

You white out, shuddering against the hard, unforgiving surface of the counter, your body arching, your name escaping your lips in a series of broken gasps. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he reaches his own peak, pulling out to finish on your back. He leans in and kisses you, a soft, teasing kiss that send shivers down your spine. Haechan pulls away, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Now," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Let's go home, my darling."

He fixes your dress and brushes the hair off of your shoulders, pressing another kiss before he places an arm on your waist, guiding you out of his club. The group of men behind falls into a formation behind him, signalling the remaining staffs to clean up the mess. You look over your shoulder to take one last look of the deformed body. And to your surprise, no guilt rushes in your veins.

Instead, what you feel is a strange sense of anticipation, a mixture of excitement and desire.

You know this is just the beginning.

The beginning of a life you’ve never thought you’d live.

[seonghwaddict]

blue bird — choi san, jung wooyoung

in which one of the most dangerous men in the city approaches you with an offer, but how would you have known it would turn into something more?

mafia boss!choi san x fem!reader x mafia boss!jung wooyoung. genre. fluff, smut, mafia au. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, unprotected sex, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, slight corruption, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, fingering, reverse cowgirl position, pussy drunk wooyoung??, subspace??, cum swallowing, san is a little mean, wooyoung likes to tease, lots of teasing, hair pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk like a lot of it, brief begging, praise, overuse of the word pretty, pet names (doll, princess, baby, pretty girl, good girl, baby doll, pretty little slut). i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know. wc. 6.9k.

lilo’s notes. hiii happy new year everyone!! this is dedicated to @garlichoisan, surprise! i was your secret santa :3 i’m sorry but i completely forgot to write angst and couldn’t find a way to squeeze it in, please forgive me 😭😭 i think i got a little carried away with the smut, it’s probably not my best since i’m not very experienced in writing it but i hope you like it and this as a whole!!

　　　　　　　　　masterlist

choi san wanted you in a rather unexpected way.

not in a friendly way or a sexual way, but actually in a professional way. ever since he’d heard of what you, the so called “blue bird,” were up to, he knew you’d be a valuable asset. shortly after he heard about you, he was quick to tell wooyoung about what he had learned from idling in a bar he’d never been to.

it was an early morning. so early that the sun hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t bother san. he preferred quieter, intimate spaces rather than the bustling clubs of grey city. as he sipped on his whiskey, the two men beside him got to talking. neither of them were very memorable, if anything they looked too similar; not intimidating in any way. still, he made a mental note of the guns attached to their hips. it was nothing very interesting, small talk from what he could tell. well, at least until they mentioned an odd name.

“did you hear what she did?”

“who?” one of them, the one with comically thick glasses, said as he blew out some cigarette smoke.

“well… ya know…” his voice lowered to a whisper, though in his drunken state it was less of a discreet whisper and more of a loud hiss, “the blue bird.”

he gave a sound of recognition. “wonderful heist, wasn’t it?”

“indeed,” he laughed, a deep chortle, “she was here tellin’ ricky all about it yesterday. flawless, flew in and out like a ghost.” he sighed blissfully, as if he had been there to watch you work.

now this. this is what caught infamous mafia boss choi san’s attention.

“more like a bird!” the bespectacled man nudge his friend with his elbow, a high pitched giggle leaving him. “get it? because she’s called bl-”

the friend held his hand up with a deadpan expression. “yes, i get it.”

the two men talked about you some more (“pretty thing she is, isn’t she?” “mhm, heard she’s actually quite sweet too. odd thing to hear about an outlaw.”), but san tuned them out again. with an important upcoming mission, he needed someone capable of doing exactly what these two men had described. he needed someone like you. preferably, you.

going off of what he had heard, he frequented that bar, hoping you’d happen to be there at the same time. he sat at the same seat at the same counter every night and always ordered the same thing. he noticed that after the first two nights he was there, no one really sat next to him. presumably because they recognised him and opted to avoid him instead of doing anything.

not that he cared, this part of town was known to be filled with people of the rebellious type; people like him who despised the government and would stop at nothing to take it down. if anything, they most likely respected him and his business. but alas, that doesn’t matter much in this particular story, does it?

wooyoung even offered to take turns visiting the bar, curious to see this mysterious person as well. but two weeks passed and no sign of you. most of the people there were the same every time he went, he was sure he would’ve noticed a new face at some point.

fortunately, his efforts became successful.

as usual, no one sat directly beside him, leaving one or two barstools between him and whatever other patron sat at the counter. or so he thought. the usual bartender passed him and came to a stop. confused and thinking the bartender stopped for him despite already sipping on his drink, san tilted his head. but it soon became evident that he wasn’t there for him, but rather for the pretty woman he didn’t notice sitting beside him.

“the usual?” the bartender asked, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he looked at you, his hands busy drying a glass.

san heard a brief chuckle beside him, prompting him to take a proper look at you. the first thing he noticed were your lips. plump and red, smooth lipstick. then the slope of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the thin straps of your silky black dress, jacket hanging by your elbows. the soft yellow-tinted lighting bounced off your rich skin and perfect hair in an almost hypnotising way. there was something enchanting about your aura, your posture, you.

he forced himself to look away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“yes, thank you.” you replied, nodding at the bartender as he turned to prepare your drink.

“one hot chocolate for our blue bird coming right up!”

blue bird.

this time san couldn’t stop himself from looking. so it was you.

the men from the other day weren’t lying when they called you a pretty little thing. you wore a silky black dress and a black fur jacket to protect you from the cold wind of the night. as his eyes roamed over you they got caught on your plump thighs. briefly, he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked but soon enough something else caught his attention. as you shifted in your seat, he caught a glimpse of the inside of your jacket, a quick glint reflecting from inside told him you were indeed carrying a weapon. he made sure to keep that in the back of his mind.

a man such as himself, wide shouldered and intimidating, was hard to ignore. if you didn’t notice him staring from the corner of your eyes, you were sure the heat of his stare would’ve burned a hole through your skin. needless to say, he had caught your attention as well, except you seemed to be better at hiding it.

once the momentary shock subsided, he smiled. the fact that such a dangerous person would regularly order hot chocolates from a bar was amusing to him.

noticing the change in expression, you glance at him. what the hell? seeing a man grinning at you was unsettling. a man with such broad shoulders who could probably easily overpower you. his face looked familiar, you realised, but couldn’t quite attach a name to it quite yet.

unsure of what to do and what this man may want from you, you turned away and engaged in a conversation with the bartender as he prepared your drink, all the while ignoring the man at your side. as soon as you finished your drink, you placed some cash on the counter and got up, swiftly walking out of the bar.

while your goal was to get away, you didn’t take the fact that he might follow you into account.

“don’t go yet, little outlaw, i’d like to talk to you about something.”

his voice was rather calm and even, but still left minimal room for discussion. you rolled your eyes before turning around with a completely different expression—eyes wide and innocent, lashes fluttering, eyebrows raised.

“you must be mistaken, sir, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

he chuckled and took some steps forward and that’s when you recognised him. shit. he slowly walked over to you, speaking to you in that same calm voice with a sprinkle of cockiness somewhere in it. “playing dumb? really? for someone as smart as yourself i’d expect you to know that the 1 billion won bounty on your head doesn’t hide you.”

you sighed at his words, taking steps back to maintain the distance. there was no use continuing the innocent act, snapping at him, “what do you want?”

“do you know who i am?”

“of course i do, the whole city does. do you think i live under a rock?” you scoffed a laugh.

he dismissed your sarcasm, being used to having to deal with such cheeky mouths. “i have an offer.” when you didn’t reply, he continued. “help me and my… business partner with a heist.”

that was not what you expected.

“hmm… no, thanks.” you smiled up at him but nearly faltered as your back hit the wall of an alley you had unknowingly backed yourself into. you cursed yourself silently as he stood right in front of you, so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact.

“i wasn’t asking, darling.” he looked down at you, expression nearly sneering as he held an air of superiority about him. “you either agree or you’ll wake up behind bars tomorrow morning.”

“you can’t arrest me or turn me in, they’ll forget all about me since you’re the more wanted one out of the two of us.” you spoke matter-of-factly, a cocky tilt to the corner of your lips.

“i never said i would be the one to turn you in, little outlaw.”

“you know,” you hummed and moved your arms. his first assumption was that you were reaching for the dagger he glimpsed inside your jacket earlier, instinctively catching your wrists in his grasp as your words died in your throat and your breath hitched. he shifted his grip to place both of your wrists in one hand, holding them up above your head as his free hand nudged your jacket open, revealing the dagger.

he clicked his tongue patronisingly and fished it out delicately. his eyes shifted to yours, eyebrows raising in a silent question as he tossed the weapon over his shoulder. the metal blade clinked and echoed in the barren alleyway. he kept your wrists in his hold but lowered your arms, holding them at the height of your hips.

he leaned forward, speaking into your ear lowly as you suppressed a shudder. “you may continue.”

you glared at him and had the sudden urge to punch the shit eating grin off his face. “what’s in it for me?”

“um…” his face went blank and he leaned back to look at you, clearly not a single thought processing behind those cat-like eyes. “is there anything you want in particular?”

“protection.” you said simply, tilting your head.

“oh,” he nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in confusion but he kept his eyes on you. “but can’t you find that in any store?”

he felt a hit against his shin as you kicked him lightly. “ew not that. i meant… well, doing what i do, there’s a lot of people after me. you have the means to have some of your guys make sure i don’t run into any trouble.”

san nodded understandingly, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. not that you minded. “that’s perfectly possible, yes.”

you exhaled, relieved. warm air fanning against his neck as you did so. “okay, then, i’m in. so what is it you need me to do?”

this time he released your wrists completely and took a step back, reaching into an inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a little card with one hand as the other brought your hand up.

he brushed his hand over your closed fist, opening your fingers up to reveal your palm, placing the card in your palm before gently nudging your fingers to close over it. in a swift move, he turned your hand around and bowed forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to your knuckles—eyes locked on yours as you stared back at him in bewilderment.

he lifted his lips, smirking at you as he straightened up, hands moving to the bottom of his blazer and tugging, stretching the wrinkles away. “i expect to see you tomorrow at dusk, little blue bird.”

with a wink, he turned on his heels and walked away. you watched him, listening to the echoing footsteps as he left the alley and disappeared around a corner, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall with burning cheeks.

you weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived at the address on the card choi san gave you. perhaps an underground bunker that looked nothing like the breathtaking estate you stood in front of.

the building was tucked within a small forest far from the outskirts of night city. the architecture seemed foreign and classical, a building you’d roam through whilst listening to tchaikovsky or chopin—not a building you’d expect to scheme against the government in. though, you supposed in some aspects it fit the aesthetic san had going on. sipping whiskey in a fully tailored suit, the smell of cigarette smoke and mint heavy in the air around him.

you walked up to the grand double doors, taking a moment to admire the intricate carvings before ringing the bell. less than a minute later, the right door swung open to reveal a stranger.

he wore wide dark jeans and a black and white plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his chiselled collarbones and practically half of his torso. his black hair was slicked back with a few strands framing his face with the dainty square glasses he wore, some hanging silver earrings on display. he was, completely objectively speaking, handsome.

his eyes roamed over you, taking in your appearance before smiling and crossing his arms, leaning his side against the door as he pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head. you noticed a mole on his face—a small dot just under his left eye. “so you’re the little outlaw san told me about, huh?”

“yes, and you are?” you knew who he was, of course, but pleasantries were pleasantries nonetheless.

“jung wooyoung, but you already knew that.”

you chuckled and put your arms up in surrender, “oh no, i’ve been caught.”

his laugh was rather high pitched as he ushered you in. “come in, it gets cold at night.”

he led you through the house, stopping by what he referred to as his office but really looked like a sitting room with soft lighting and a desk to grab some rolled up papers before continuing the walk. the interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; intricate paintings and marble floors. wooyoung smiled as he saw the awe-stricken look on your face.

he led you to another set of double doors, pushing both of them open and stepping through without looking back to make sure you were following. now this was an office.

your jaw nearly dropped as you walked into the room, spinning a full circle to gawk at the various bookshelves that lined the walls and high ceiling that looked like it came straight out of the sistine chapel. a large fireplace cast a warm, yet still dark, glow over the room, making it look that much more impressive. a graceful vintage couch with two matching armchair were placed in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table nestled between the seats and the source of light and warmth.

the floor creaked with every step you took, being made of dark wooden planks instead of marble.

you flinched as you heard san’s familiar voice snapping you out of your stupor. “pick your jaw up, you might catch flies.”

at the sound of his voice, you whipped around and glared at him after quickly pulling yourself together. he was sat in a leather chair at his impressive desk, wooyoung sat (balanced) on the arm of the chair.

you walked over and stood across from them in front of the desk. “it’s a nice house, are you two the only ones that live here?”

wooyoung took the chance to answer. “sometimes. there’s six others that are part of our… syndicate, but they stay in other places, surrounding grey city.”

“enough of that.” san waved his hand dismissively and leaned forward. as he did so, your eyes were drawn to his chest. he wore a white button up, though it appeared to be a bit tight judging by the way the fabric around the buttons strained every time he moved. your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of them brought it up. “woo, the plans, please.”

the plan was set to take place the months after you had met with them for the first time. this gave you three to prepare, to memorise the layout and every detail about the building you’ll be infiltrating. for this preparation, you frequented their estate often—nearly every day—and spent hours with them. two weeks in, they offered you one of their guest bedrooms to stay in.

at first wooyoung got on your nerves, but soon enough you grew accustomed to his antics—the clinginess, the teasing. eventually, you even found yourself liking it and seeking it out.

san was slightly more reserved at first, more serious. but soon he, too, let down his guard. encouraging words, affectionate touches.

the more time you spent with them, the more you found yourself relaxing, letting them handle you with care instead of pushing them away like you used to with so many people before them. and eventually you, dare you say, began liking them.

you couldn’t deny the way san’s sharp snd perceptive eyes made you want to squirm under his gaze as he watched you bend over his desk to point something out on the building’s floor plan. you couldn’t deny the way his gentle commands (“do this for me please.” “come here, princess.”) had butterflies roaring in your stomach.

and wooyoung. while san was indeed quite physically affectionate, it was nothing compared to wooyoung. lingering touches and smooth words. sometimes you’d be grabbing something in kitchen and he’d come by, pulling you aside by your hips to grab something. later that day you’d offered to cook something up for dinner, but he only tutted and lifted you by your waist to place you on the marble island counter (“i don’t trust you in my kitchen, baby. just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”). jung wooyoung was a flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

two days before the heist, you walked into san’s office after waking up and not being able to find woo. in the time you’d spent with them, you had learned that san acquired the bigger and fancier office by winning a game of rock paper scissors.

as you opened the door, the cat-eyed man looked up from whatever he was working on, smiling as he watched you yawn and stretch on your way over to him. he gave you a once over; you wore an oversized shirt, the collar shifted and hanging over one shoulder, the end of the shirt ending halfway down your thighs.

“sleep well?” he asked, putting his pen down as you stopped in front of the desk. he’d woken up not too long before you, still in his sleepwear, hair tussled but somehow still perfect.

you nodded, your voice soft in your sleepy state, “where’s woo?”

“he went out to get stuff for dinner,” he chuckled as he heard the slight concern in your voice. he pushed his chair back slightly and patted his lap. “come sit here while i work, princess.”

you grinned and walked around the desk, claiming his lap as your seat. you leaned back against him, back pressed to his front. he kissed your exposed shoulder chastely and got back to work. you tried to look down at his papers to see what he was doing, but the way his unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist and shifted you slightly (in a way that accidentally made his thigh rub against certain areas) had your mind going blank, unable to focus on anything other than his touch.

though you couldn’t see it, san also had a hard time focusing. every time you moved, your ass brushed over his pelvis. it was clear he didn’t think it through when he told you to sit on him since now he was having a hard time holding himself back, a bulge growing in his sweatpants.

you shifted again, trying to find a position where none of his body parts rubbed against your core, and he sucked a sharp breath in. his hands practically flew to your hips to hold you still.

“princess, i need you to sit still or i might go crazy, okay?” he spoke softly into your ear, hot breaths brushing against your skin and making you shiver, a fact he noticed and made him smirk. maybe he was already going crazy, but just a little more wouldn’t hurt, right?

he kept his lips by your ear for a moment before moving down slightly, placing them just below your earlobe. it was your turn for your breath to hitch, tilting your head to give him more space. he nearly groaned at the subtle act of submission, burying his face into your skin and kissing his way down to the crook of your neck.

time seemed to slow as his hands tightened on your hips, he scraped his teeth along your neck before biting down gently, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a breathy whine. when the sound left your lips, he froze.

when you noticed he wasn’t doing anything, you whined again and rolled your hips over his pelvis, dropping your head back on his shoulder. the action surprised yourself too. you’d had sex, of course, but it was never a necessity for you. even when the opportunity presented itself, you wouldn’t chase after it. yet here you were, wordlessly begging him to continue. what had these men done to you?

“is this okay?” he whispered.

you nodded immediately, turning your head to look at him. his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace—a silent plea for him to have his way with you, release the tension that’s built up over the previous three months. without waiting a second longer, he attached his lips to your neck again, a certain roughness to the way he caressed your skin with his lips and his tongue and his teeth.

you melted against him and let your eyes fall shut when you felt his hands slip shirt off, tossing it on his desk, and then rest against your bare waist, fingertips brushing over the skin making a shiver run down your spine. a voice that wasn’t his had your eyes flying open, your body freezing for a moment before you realised who it was.

“you two just couldn’t wait for me?” wooyoung pouted, leaning against the desk in front of the chair you and san occupied. san chuckled against your neck while you stared at wooyoung, dumbfounded, unexpected excitement stirring in your abdomen.

he looked from your face, to san’s smirk, and then down at the way your hips tried finding the right angle to grind on san’s lap. a dark chuckle left wooyoung’ slips and he leaned forward, hands coming to rest on your knees.

“need help with that, doll?” he tilted his head, a mocking pout gracing his lips as he cooed at you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek for a moment as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

your eyes practically twinkled as you looked up at him, pupils dilated as you nod helplessly. wooyoung smiled and patted your cheek affectionately, pecking your forehead again before sinking to his knees in between yours and san’s legs, kissing his way down your body. your eyes tracked him and his slow descent, breath held in anticipation.

“cute,” he giggled as he eyed your pink panties, slipping them off your legs and tossing them aside. he hooked your legs on either side of san’s, spreading them apart, looking up at you. “just relax, be a good girl and keep your legs like that for me, yeah?”

when you nodded, he kissed your inner thigh followed by a quiet groan as he noticed the arousal dripping from your cunt. “oh, doll, you’re so wet.”

“hm, is she?” san chimed in, one of of his hands leaving your waist to dip down and casually slide a finger through your folds; from bottom to top, applying more pressure the further he slid. you prepared yourself for his finger to get to your clit but, much to your dismay, he removed his hand just before he got there. you suppressed the urge to glare at him over your shoulder. simultaneously, wooyoung began leaving pecks all over your inner thighs.

san hummed and pressed another kiss just below your ear, whispering, his voice thick with lust, “all that and we barely even started. what a pathetic, needy mess, huh?”

the way he said it made it clear he expected an answer from you, but with how wooyoung ran a single finger through your folds, you couldn’t do much but shudder and nod. san clicked his tongue and snaked his hands further up from your waist just under your breasts, fingers brushing circles over your nipples. he waited patiently to give you more time to answer.

wooyoung’s tongue slipped out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit and both your brain practically short-circuited. the combination of the feeling of his tongue and his wide, glossy eyes peering up at you from between your legs sending your mind reeling. he groaned as he tasted you, swearing in his head that he’d probably finish in his pants within five minutes. a sudden pinch of your nipples had you snapping out of your trance.

“say it, princess.”

“ah- i’m a mess.”

“and why are you a mess?”

you opened your mouth to answer but your own moan cut you off as wooyoung began circling your clit with his tongue. san’s lips backed away from your ear and he looked down at wooyoung, signalling for him to stop by holding up his flat palm. your chest heaved with heavy breaths as wooyoung reluctantly removed his tongue and leaned back just an inch, giving you a moment to recover.

“he won’t continue until you tell me why you’re a mess, baby.”

“because of you,” you whined, trying to press your hips closer to wooyoung’s face but to no avail as san moved his hands back down to hold you firmly by those hips he loved so much.

“good girl, that’s right,” he cooed into your ear, giving you a tender kiss. “you’re our pathetic needy mess, aren’t you?”

“your mess. i’m your mess.”

at the confirmation, san looked down at wooyoung and nodded. not even a second later wooyoung’s mouth was back on you. one of san’s hands stayed to control your hips and the other went back to massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

wooyoung’s pace was relentless. he ate you out like a man starved, licking up all the juices that seeped from you while he made sure to nudge his nose against your clit repeatedly. when his mouth wasn’t at your entrance, he had his lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between rhythmic sucks and prods of his tongue, one of his fingers teasingly circling your hole.

he swore he could’ve gotten drunk off your taste, finding the way you writhed in san’s lap so cute. wooyoung momentarily removed his mouth from you once again, watching your face as he tentatively pushed his finger past your entrance. he spoke, voice somewhere between a hoarse groan and a sigh.

“fuck…”

you threw your head back on san’s shoulder, suddenly aware of the hard erection pressed against your ass. you tried to rock your hips just a bit, wanting to help him, but his fingers tightened on your hips.

“keep being such a good girl and i’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name, but i need you to be patient. okay, princess?”

your breath hitches and you nodded at his promise, your attention being drawn back to the man between your legs as he added another finger. your breathing grew erratic.

“mmm, so tight.” he groaned, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappeared into your before slipping out again, more and more of your slick seeping out with each thrust of his digits. wet sounds reverberated through the room as you let out a silent curse.

you thought your noises were kept to a minimum, too embarrassed to really let loose, but as soon as he curled his fingers in you—easily finding that spongey sweet spot—a proper moan ripped itself out of you. and then his tongue was back on your clit, not as firmly as you would’ve liked but enough to draw out more moans and whimpers.

at first, he took his time, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a frustrating pace, tongue only lightly brushing over your swollen pearl. but soon enough, he sped up gradually until he reached a speed that had you crying out and arching your back with every inch that he moved. all the while san muttered encouragement into your ear.

“mhm, you’re taking his fingers so well, princess.”

“can’t wait to have my cock in your tight little pussy. don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.”

“look at you, being fucked dumb just from his fingers. you can barely even keep your eyes open, huh?”

you thought you were controlling yourself well but the moment wooyoung added a third finger, the stretch burning just slightly though your wetness kept things moving smoothly, the moment san spoke all those filthy words in your ear, you felt yourself crashing over the edge. it all felt so good you didn’t even realise you were climaxing until you felt yourself shaking and stars swarming your vision.

a high pitched cry ripped through your lips, moaning wooyoung’s name as he takes his fingers out so he can slurp up your release, groaning against you. you tasted so good and if he could, he would have bottled up all the sounds you made to listen to them before bed every night. san planted tender kisses to your jaw and shoulder as wooyoung eventually removed himself.

he looked almost as fucked out as you, drunk of the juices of your pussy as he slowly got up. he took your face in his clean hand and eagerly pressed his lips against yours, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. the two of you made out slowly, sloppily, and he slowly trailed his hands down. tracing the curve of your waist before settling his hands on your hips, guiding them to grind over san’s length.

you followed his lead, arching your back to position your pussy right over his erection. that seemed to have made san lose all his composure, rasping out harshly, “woo, please lift her up for a moment.”

moments later, you were back in his lap, this time his long cock buried deep in your cunt. his hands guided your movements, his thrusts matching the pace of the roll of your hips. though he wasn’t able to see your face, fucking you in a reverse cowgirl position, he could image how fucked out you looked. cheeks painted red, glazed over eyes, swollen lips, messed up hair.

wooyoung separated his lips from you, chuckling against your mouth. you struggled to kiss him, san feeling so good in you that you had a hard time thinking straight. “does he feel good, babydoll?”

you nodded and leaned forward just slightly to attach you lips to his pretty neck, mindlessly kissing and licking your way down to his collarbones. wooyoung tilted his head back, another dark chuckle. he thought you were so cute—making sure to give him attention even though you were bouncing in another man’s dick. said man groaned and slumped back in the seat at the change of angle as you leaned forward, not pausing his movements once. ever since he first bottomed out in you he had trouble putting together sentences.

your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. most of them were undone anyway, he liked it like that when he wore button-ups, but you wanted it completely off. he noticed your trembling hands struggling and took over for you, ignoring the buttons and just pulling off the shirt. your eyes roamed over him, jaw slack.

“you’re so pretty, woo.” you whispered after burying your face in his neck again, any filter you had on your words completely gone.

“i think you’re pretty too, doll,” he chuckled into your ear. “so pretty getting off on me and sannie at once.”

you leaned back and looked him over, darting between his eyes and the erection straining against the trousers with pleading, half closed eyes. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you wanted, making him coo as he understood you.

“oh, you want my cock? you wanna suck it? just one shoved inside you doesn’t satisfy you enough, huh, you pretty little slut?”

your head empty, unable to focus on anything other than the two men you were trapped between, you nodded. san groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.

“fuck- she likes that.”

“is that so?” wooyoung straightened up and grinned down at you, holding your jaw in his hand. “well, then, go ahead, doll, do as you please.”

at he sound of his permission, your hands found their way to his trousers, undoing the fly and letting them fall to the ground. you could already see the shape of it through his boxers, but didn’t pause to inspect it, hooking your fingers on his waistband and pulling it down to release him.

while his length was impressive, it didn’t look quite as long as san’s but rather thicker. compared to every dick you’ve seen, you decided jung wooyoung had a pretty one. the blushing tip leaked precum that you smeared around to stroke him slowly.

you looked up at him every time you tried something new with your hands, looking for his reaction—running your thumb over his tip, squeezing lightly as your hand moved down. no mater what you did, it elicited a deep moan from him. you looked entranced as you watched the way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. you leaned forward (both you and san moaning and shuddering at the change in angle), pressing a kiss to his tip.

this new angle had san pounding against your sweet spot repeatedly without fail, making you suddenly feel like jello. still, you tried your best to focus on the task literally at hand.

wooyoung noticed your lack of concentration, threading his fingers in your hair and gently pulling to make you look up. he pouted at you mockingly. “can’t think straight enough with sannie’s cock stuffed in you? it’s ok, doll, you look so pretty and fucked out i could cum just from looking at you.”

you shook your head and pushed forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking your mouth down on his length to the best of your abilities.

wooyoung groaned, “that’s it, doll, there you go. you can take just a little more, can’t you, pretty girl?”

eager to please him, you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. you felt him hit the back of your throat and pulled back, coughing around his length. he slipped his hand out of your hair and stroke your cheek, prompting you to glance up at him.

“you’re doing well, doll, just remember to breathe through your nose. i know you can take me just a bit deeper.”

you nodded at his words, swallowing a little more, and wrapped a hand around the rest that you couldn’t fit, stroking him slowly as you led your mouth get used to the feeling. truth be told, you hadn’t given anyone head before, completely relying on your intuition now.

“yeah, there you go, my pretty little doll. i knew you could do it.”

as you mouth worked on wooyoung, you felt that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen. san must’ve been close too, letting out a hearty groan as he gripped your hips tighter and thrusted up into you faster. every time he pulled you down and snapped his hip up to meet you, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against your and his balls hitting your clit had you whining against wooyoung’s cock.

he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering before cooing down at you. “what was that, doll? i couldn’t quite hear you.”

you continued with the sucking and stroking until you thought it was impossible, repeatedly shaking too much to keep a steady pace. but you could tell wooyoung was close judging by his sounds and pulsating, and still wanting to please him, you kept your lips around his head as you hand stroked him as fast as you could.

moments later, his body tensed and he came into your mouth. the thick, slightly salty substance ran down your throat as you swallowed it all down. when you were sure he was done, you pulled yourself off him. wooyoung looked ready to pass out, leaning against the desk and staring up at the ceiling as he panted, catching his breath. silent curses left his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.

now with wooyoung taken care of, you leaned back against san, revelling in the feeling of him pounding into you as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. you heard him gasp by your ear and you clenched down on him.

“f-fuck… i’m gonna cum.”

oh how san loves fucking you. loves the way your walls flutter around his cock. loves all the sounds you make that he was sure you weren’t even aware of. how you writhe and jerk and shudder and whine and moan and he could go on for days.

“please, sannie,” you whined softly, “please, fill me up, please please please.”

that was the last straw. the desperation in your voice has his stomach flipping and he came just as you finished your begging. a shiver ran down your spine as your body went limp. he kept himself buried in you as one of his hands slide down to rub quick and tight circles on your clit, quickly bringing you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

once all three of you calmed down and got cleaned up, you found yourself relaxing on san’s lap again. this time, you were on one of the couches in the living room as wooyoung sat beside you. while you were in the shower, he cooked up some instant noodles, feeding them to you now.

a hand stroked the outside of your thigh comfortingly as you slurped down the last of the noodles, you recognised it as san’s hand. your legs still felt like jello and you cuddled into him as wooyoung got up to put the bowl away. you felt san press a kiss to the top of your head, practically cradling you.

“you did well, my little blue bird,” he whispered against the crown of your head and pulled you closer, “i could stay like this all day.”

“too bad because it’s my turn now.” wooyoung buckled as he returned, collapsing on the couch and snatching you of san’s grasp without warning. he stuck his tongue out at san as he held the back of you head and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, making you giggle.

san whined and reached his hands out to grab you again only to be swatted away by woo. “hey! no fair.”

“yes, it is fair,” wooyoung giggled, “you’ve had her on your lap long enough.” his best friend glared at him and muttered something under his breath as he looked away with his arms crossed.

“oh, you big baby,” you laughed as you turned your head to look at him. extending you hand to pat his knee.

san’s eyes flashed as an idea lit up in his head. he grinned as he wrapped his arms around both you and wooyoung. you weren’t sure how it happened but next thing you knew, all three of you were laying down on the couch, the two men sandwiching you lovingly.

you felt yourself blush and your brain going blank. wooyoung laughed at the expression on your face, leaning forward to kiss you until san reached over and flicked his forehead. they proceeded to argue about who should be able to kiss you more as you sighed contentedly. you realised there was no other place in earth you’d prefer to be in more than right here, nestled between the two men who you knew would take good care of you.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @hee0soo

[autumnheartsprice]

Truth or Dare

|Simon Riley x reader, no warnings really, fluff, revealing feelings, mentions of being drunk & drinking|

"I'd rather lick the bathroom floor than kiss the Simon Riley."

After a particularly rough night with the team, it was Soap's bright idea to play the famous Truth or Dare. Which led you and the other 4 men into the common room, whiskey glasses and beer cans left on the table as each person takes turns going against each other.

Soap and Gaz have practically been your girl's girls ever since you joined the team and they are both well aware of your little crush on the not-so-little Lieutenant. They made it their goal to get you closer to him before the night ended, they waited for the drinks to kick in before coming up with their dare.

As your Lieutenant dug around in the kitchen to find another whiskey bottle, the chatter continued as Soap 'thought' of a dare for you, oh he fully knew what he was going to say for the past 3 rounds. "Aye dare ye to kiss L.T. when he comes back in." He says with his eyebrows raised before taking another swig of whiskey.

You almost spit out your drink at the sudden change of dare, you'd smack him if he was any closer. You checked around, L.T. was still in the kitchen that you were aware of, at least he wouldn't have to hear about this. "I'd rather lick the bathroom floor than kiss the Simon Riley."

Gaz begins to laugh before the room is silenced with a loud slam of a glass bottle against the counter, before heavy footsteps fade away down the hallway with the slam of a door.

You knew you fucked up. You've been hanging around your L.T. and pulling the Soap tactic until he actually started enjoying your presence. He would beg ask for you to join him in the gym early in the mornings where he could also spot you - he'd be damned if he let anybody else touch what's his. But you figured it was best, denying your feelings towards your Superior was what was for the best.. maybe not.

You knew him by now that whenever he was pissed, he'd spend hours in his room cleaning his guns and knives until he passed out in his chair. The next morning, you reach his door and sigh before knocking, you two created a special knock over time to aware each other it was just the other instead of having to use words each time, words were for losers. Even after you knock, you don't get a response or even hear him shifting in his room but you smell his freshly-lit cigarette out of his window even though he knows Price will get on him for it if he finds out again.

"C'mon Lieutenant, please? Just wanna talk to you for a little bit." You plead, almost giving him puppy dog eyes through the door. "We don't have to talk if that's what you prefer.. I want to just sit with you." Finally, you almost want to celebrate your victory when you hear his chair roll back as he starts to stand up and walk to the door. You stand back but notice it seems to take a while for him to open his door as if he was hesitating.

His door slowly opens, a stronger smell of his classic cigarettes filling your senses. He lets go of the doorknob and walks back to his seat silently, refusing to make eye contact with you but you know it's a gesture of him letting you in anyway.

You nervously sit at the edge of his bed and admire him cleaning his collection of knives and sharpening them. You choose to sit in silence for a little bit - your usual routine but the air feels too tense. "Is it something someone said?"

He scoffs, pathetically laughs and gives you the answer you need. The room sits silent for a few more moments until he hears the rustling behind him which he assumes is you pulling out your phone. You open your messages and open the group chat with Soap and Gaz, scrolling up until you reach the first text from Gaz of him talking about what you revealed on one drunk night.

Dish Soap: Can't believe our little bird found the man of her dreams

You: Istg if you don't shut the hell up

Gaz: Says the one fighting a hangover right now

Gaz: Big bad L.T. caught your interest, huh?

Dish Soap: Ghost would break her in half

The rest is just chatter that filled the chat over time, occasional sneaky pics of Ghost to get you to swoon over him even more. You didn't care what he decided to read after that, or if he even cared at this point but he deserved to see it. Sliding your phone onto his desk next to him, he ignored it until he couldn't resist it anymore. Reading where you purposely left it at, he stares at it for wayyyy too long until you see his thumb scroll up a little bit before skimming the rest of the texts.

"I was half out of it last night and didn't want you to know about my little thing, but figured you should know after what I said.. I don't care how you decide to react to it but I didn't know a better way to prove to you that I didn't mean it." You mutter. Looking down to play with your thumbs, you hardly notice as he turns his chair around to look at you.

He places a firm hand on your chin and forces you to look up at him. After basically a staring contest, "Tell me you mean it and that you want this." He grumbles, voice raspy like he hasn't been out of his room since to even get a drink of water.

"Ghost, I mean-"

"Simon."

You pause at his interruption, eyes wide but he doesn't move his position.

"Simon.. I mean it.. but if you'd rather ignore it then-" He bunches his mask above his nose before pressing his unchapped lips roughly against yours, claiming your lips as he pushes you back against his bed until he's hovering over you. "I want this.. I want you."

He groans into your mouth before slipping his tongue in your mouth to explore your warm taste. Until the point that drool drips from his chin when he pulls away, he grumbles "I hope your hangover sucks." While trying to catch his breath. A small smile forms at the corners of your lips as he runs a grounding hand into your hair. "Oh, it absolutely does so I hope you're happy."

He gives you some ibuprofen to help your lasting headache before laying down with you - he still keeps a respectable distance as he doesn't know how far to go but he holds one of your hands in his. "Shouldn't you finish your cleaning?"

"Got better things to worry about." Before he presses a kiss against the back of your hand that remains interlocked with his.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Hey 😊 if your still taking requests for the peakys. Could I please ask for Alfie Solomons with A "ask me to stay" and D "dark secret" female reader. Thanks 💗💗

A/n: that's a wrap on Peaky Blinders requests from June!!! thx to all the lovelies who participated <3

The Wall Between Them - Alfie Solomons X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2362 Content warnings: Domestic violence, reader murders the abuser, abuse, violence, blood/gore, protective Alfie, can't-be-vulnerable Alfie, trying-his-best Alfie, hints of soft!Alfie?

Her hands shook so violently it was a wonder she didn’t drop the pistol. If anyone had been watching the scene before them, they would have credited a guardian angel for guiding the bullet straight to his chest despite the treacherous wobble of the gun. Her eyes were closed when she pulled the trigger, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood from her mouth. 

He fell like a sack of bricks. One minute he was lunging towards her, eyes trained on the pistol. A cold fear seized his heart as he saw the terror in her gaze melt away to black rage. All those whiskey beatings, harsh words and hateful years had backfired on him. Then, in the next instant, he died to the ear-splitting sound of a gunshot. 

The silence that followed was so loud she swore it would crush her. The walls around her seemed to be holding their breath. Was he really dead? Did she really pull the trigger? 

She didn’t let herself exhale until she saw a pool of blood - darker than she’d imagined it would be - staining the floorboards underneath him. She dropped the pistol; it landed with a heavy thud at her feet moments before her knees folded on themselves as if made of twigs. She pitched sideways, letting the hallway wall brace her fall as she deflated under the weight of realization. She knew in that moment that it didn’t matter how many times he’d hit her. The ghastly bruises and scars he’d left etched in her skin, the nights her mind had divorced itself from her battered body and wandered the halls like a ghost, the mangled monster he’d grown into… none of it mattered. All that others would see was a dead husband and a living wife with motive, means, and a guilty conscience. Even dead, that horrid man was imprisoning her.

She knew there was only one person who could get her out of this. And so, she wiped the blood from her rapidly swelling lip, picked up the pistol and slipped it into the deep pocket of her apron, and tied up the escaped strands of hair. It had been almost seven years since she’d seen Alfie Solomons, but she still knew exactly where to find him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” 

Alfie barely heard Jack’s murmured comment above the jeer of the crowd. The Irishman was swaying unsteadily on his feet in the pen after taking a nasty round of hits to his right ear. Alfie could see his ear filling with blood. A busted eardrum, likely. Circling opposite him, the burly Hungarian Alfie knew as The Red Devil was snarling proudly as he surveyed his quarry. 

“Fuckin’ finish him!” Alfie called out, lifting a wad of bills in the air like a signal fire. The fight was fixed of course, and Alfie had fixed it. The Red Devil was turning into quite a lucrative investment, but his penchant for theatrics was tiring to Alfie. He preferred a quick win, efficient and clean. 

“Boss?” Jack edged slightly closer, waiting for Alfie’s orders.

“Hm?”

“A lady, boss. There’s a lady here to see you. Asked for you by name.”

“Didn’t book a whore tonight,” Alfie replied simply, waving Jack off as The Red Devil moved in on the Irishman, holding the dazed man’s head as he drove his knee up into the exposed forehead until the bell rang to signal the end of the fight. The crowd erupted into a mix of appreciative cheers, boos, and cries to settle up or place new bets as another pair of fighters moved to the edge of the pen. 

“Don’t think she’s a whore, boss. Looks like a respectable lady. Bit beat up though.” 

Alfie fixed Jack with an incredulous stare. He wasn’t accustomed to his men pressing him on trivial issues like this. Especially not on a fight night. Jack flinched imperceptibly; he was well-acquainted with Alfie’s anger and bore a nasty half-moon scar the framed his left eye from being pistol-whipped after pressing Alfie’s limits. Alfie almost moved to strike him, until something about Jack’s words and the odd look in his eyes plucked at something. 

“She give a name?”

Jack shook his head, eyes glued to the ground. “No. All she said was you were ol’ friends. Childhood friends, I think she said.”

It couldn’t be. Alfie shook his head as if trying to shake out the thought. But, then again, there was only one person he’d ever met who’d claim him as a friend. 

“Beat up, you say?”

Jack nodded. “Lip’s split and she got a shiner.”

A memory flickered across Alfie’s mind. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the last time he had, she’d had a ring of purple and green bruises around her neck. She’d tried to hide it under a high collar dress, but Alfie had her pressed up against the wall of his office, their lips devouring each other, and he hadn’t missed the way she winced when he let his hand slide down the side of her neck on its way to undo the line of buttons at the front of her dress. He knew who’d done it and didn’t need her to say a damn thing. If she hadn’t begged him on her knees - her goddamn knees - to spare that pathetic man’s life, Alfie Solomons would have gutted him nice and slow. 

He hadn’t seen her since. She’d stopped writing, stopped answering her own front door, stopped going to the butcher shop below where Alfie kept a small apartment. He’d had her on every surface of that apartment, rabid with hunger for anything she’d give him. Then she’d just vanished. Told him she was due to be married, couldn’t carry on with him anymore. Alfie knew there’d been a silent request buried in her words. He’d heard her ask it with her eyes. Ask me to marry you, and I’ll leave him. Alfie cursed himself every day for letting that moment slip by like water on rocks. He wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to love someone now then he was back then, but in his quiet moments he wondered if maybe he could have figured it out with her, if only he’d been willing to take that chance.

“Boss? Boss, what do you want me to tell ‘er?” 

The sound of the bell announcing the start of another match jarred Alfie loose from his reminiscences. 

“Nothin’. I’ll talk to ‘er.”

Jack eyed him with surprise, but quickly smoothed the spark of interest out of his features rather than risk another scar from his mercurial boss. He’d never known Alfie Solomons to pause his dealings for a woman. Something about her must have been special. Jack followed his boss out of the smoky, cacophonous warehouse and towards the back of the building where Alfie kept his offices. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alfie felt his fingers dig into the wood of his desk as she stepped out of the shadowy corner of his office and into the soft halo glow of his desk lamp. Her lip was split, blood dried on her chin, and one of her luminous eyes was swollen shut. Murder ripped through Alfie’s blood at the sight of her. 

“Before you say anything, Alfie, he’s dead.”

Her voice sounded different, thin and strained, like someone had scooped out her soul leaving nothing but an echo behind.

“He sure fuckin’ is.” Alfie was shaking he was so bloodthirsty. He couldn’t look at her and risk losing himself. How could it still be so fresh, he wondered, after seven long years?

“No, that’s not what I meant… Alfie, I-, I killed him. I shot him.”

A different man might have been horrified, or maybe even a little impressed. Alfie was none of that. Instead, he felt himself pitch forward over the lip of a hole of despair. 

His voice cracked when he ordered Jack and the rest of the boys out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, she sank down into one of the leather-backed chairs across the desk from him. Desperate to be close to her lest she splinter to pieces, Alfie rounded the desk to perch against its edge, stretching his long legs away from her in an attempt to give her space. She hardly looked up at him. 

“What did he fuckin’ do to you?” Barely more than a whisper. Alfie was glad the light was too dim for her to see that he was treacherously close to tears.

She looked up at him, shocked. Her one good eye gleamed at him. 

“Alfie, did you hear me? I killed him.”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. Alfie was full of tender urges and gentle feelings, but his mouth couldn’t seem to give them words or noise. All he knew was harshness and violence. It was the same wall that had kept him from reaching out for her hand and telling her all the things he felt the last night he’d seen her. Here he was, so close he could smell her lavender soap but his affection locked away so tightly and deeply that he couldn’t force himself to touch it even if he tried.

“Nothin’ he didn’t deserve,” he grunted brusquely after a few moments. He dropped his gaze, unable to tolerate the sight of her face bruised and misshapen. He noticed her hands were trembling in her lap. “What do you need, darlin’?”

She stifled a small sob at the sound of the pet name he’d reserved for her. 

“He’s still-... the body, I- I don’t know… I guess-”

“It’s done. Write down your address.” Alfie handed her a pen and paper, watched as she struggled to mark the street name and number legibly. Her knuckles were bruised, he noted with a twisted pang of pride and pain. She’d been fighting back, he realized. All alone these last seven years. And he’d let her. He’d stopped fighting to get to her. Let her close herself off to him. Let himself close off to her. And now, it wasn’t until she’d been pushed to the brink - maybe past it - that she’d come to him, and only because she knew that when violence and darkness was needed, Alfie could do it. But he couldn’t do the other things, the harder things. Like love her, protect her, tirelessly fight for her. 

She tore off the page and handed it to Alfie. He took it without looking at the writing, strode over the door and excused himself from the office. He thrust the paper into Jack’s hands. 

“Take care of it, Jackie. No loose ends, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ rip you limb from limb if it ain’t done right.” 

He didn’t give Jack or the others time to argue or ask questions before he slammed the door as a dismissal and strode back to her. He reached for her, needing to feel her warmth under his fingertips just to prove she was here. She flinched instinctively, sending Alfie deeper into self-loathing.

“Do they know-”

“It’s done, darlin’. It’s taken care of.” 

Alfie poured himself a glass of whiskey, drunk it down in one gulp, and poured another. 

“Alfie…” 

Her voice was so soft and yearning it broke Alfie in two. He turned to face her. Gods she looked perfect. 

“It ain’t fuckin’ happenin’ again.” The most solemn promise he’d ever made. 

She recoiled from him as if slapped. It took him a half moment to process why. 

“I ain’t lettin’ anyone hurt you. Ever again, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ burn the world and every hateful man with it, it don’t matter.” It was all Alfie could find the words to say. 

Finally understanding his meaning, he watched her relax in the chair. She eyed him without saying a thing, a strange expression on her face. 

“I don’t want that, Alfie,” she replied softly. “I don’t want any more death. I don’t want to see someone hurt ever again. I just… I just want…” 

Her words trailed off into the quiet. Neither of them knew where the end of that sentence would lead. The space between them stretched and morphed until it felt like an ocean separating them. Strange, that two people who both wanted so desperately to be with each other could feel so far away.

“Don’t set any fires on my account, Alfie.” She rose from her chair and walked towards him, taking the glass out of Alfie’s hand and downing the whiskey with a wince. “Just ask me to stay.” 

Alfie felt his heart run headlong into that same old wall that always kept them apart. Here she was, the only woman who’d ever mattered, literally giving him the words she wanted to hear. And all that Alfie’s tongue wanted to say was more promises of vengeance, of violence in her name, of destruction. 

She watched him struggle, her gaze even but tired. 

“Ask me to stay, Alfie. That’s all I need.”

The openness those words threatened to expose in Alfie Solomons felt like a lit bomb nestled in the cage of his ribs. He choked on the air in his lungs. Come on, you fucker, he thought viciously as he struggled to press back on the urge to run. 

She watched and waited. Each moment, her shoulders sagged a bit more.

“Stay.”

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, and Alfie spat the word out as if it had poison between its letters. But was it close enough? 

Her heart thought so. She felt a softness take root there, a shred of hope. 

Yes, it was enough. 

She gave Alfie Solomons a soft smile. The way he crumbled at the sight told her enough about his feelings for her. Even if he couldn’t put them into words, she could see the love that she was so desperate to excavate from wherever he stored away the fragile parts of himself.

“That’s enough,” she told him sweetly, lifting a hand to cradle the side of his face. For the first time in seven years, she let herself relax into a man’s touch as Alfie’s fingers found hers…

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part three: clean up

word count:

warnings: bone cracking, minor violence, some threats, a usual day in the mob life yktv

two | three | four

The night air was damp with the lingering scent of rain and blood.

Lando stepped out of her apartment building, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to his car. The streets were quiet now—too quiet. Just an hour ago, the space had been filled with the sound of a man begging for his life. Now, the city hummed with its usual indifference, as if nothing had ever happened.

He had stayed just long enough to be certain. No phone calls. No texts. No neighbors suspiciously knocking to ask what was wrong. She hadn’t told anyone.

Good girl.

He slid into the driver’s seat, checked his phone — no messages, no calls.

Finally, some fucking quiet.

Lando finally leaned against the back of his seat, long fingers wrapping themselves around the familiar steering of his McLaren 675 LT as he drove away. He drove without hurry, one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting against his temple as he exhaled a long, measured breath. The events weighed down on his shoulders — not with guilt, of course, never guilt– just the meticulous web of problems that needed to be untangled into solutions.

And the idiots he worked with? They were the biggest problem of the night.

His fingers tightened around the wheel, knuckles pressing white. He could still smell the iron tang of blood from earlier, the sharp memory of the gunshots ringing in his ears. He had done what needed to be done—handled the aftermath, cleaned up their mess. But the fact that he had to clean it up at all pissed him off.

He took a few turns through the empty streets before heading toward his house — a looming, intricate work of architecture nestled in the more quiet part of the  city. The headlights sliced through the dark as he pulled up to the wide cobblestone driveway, shutting the engine off before stepping out, his boots almost silent against the stone.

His own place was nothing like hers.

Large, sleek, classical — all marble and dark wood. A skyline view of the city stretched wide beyond huge church style windows, lights flickering like static against the black water of the pool. It was pristine, everything in its place, every surface immaculate. But that was the difference between a house and a home—he didn’t need comfort. He needed efficiency.

He stepped inside,  letting the heavy metal door slam behind him, the sound like a gunshot in the vast space. He turned and reactivated the alarm system from a side panel before shrugging off his jacket, letting it fall onto the back of a chair. The blood on his boot had dried by now, a small, insignificant detail, but he noticed it anyway. He always did.

Inside, the air was thick with sweat, smoke, and the stench of blood that hadn’t been properly cleaned up. A few men were already there laughing and talking, the remnants of their work sprawled out before them — discarded gloves, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, the stench of sweat and gun oil. They weren’t worried. They weren’t tense. They were acting like tonight hadn’t been a fucking disaster.

By the time he came up beside his seat, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves,  he was already seething. He stood and glared with the kind of measured posture that should have put them on edge.

It didn’t.

Because they were idiots.

Lando took his time stepping forward, peeling off his gloves, his gaze sharp and unreadable. He watched them—studied the way they barely acknowledged his arrival, how one of them laughed under his breath about something, how another flicked a cigarette against the ashtray with a lazy, unbothered wave.

It was insulting.

“You are all too comfortable,” Lando murmured, his voice a quiet blade.

Fewtrell is, of course, the first to notice. Once he goes quiet, the others are a lot quicker to be pulled out of the blissful ignorance of whatever nonsense they were blabbing about moments ago.

Conversation died instantly.

The three of them turned to face him, their relaxed postures stiffening under his gaze. They were good at a lot of things —intimidation, violence, making money— but it seemed like reading Lando’s moods was never one of them.

Which was a shame. He wasn’t in the mood to be patient.

Slowly, he reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, lifting it to the light. Amber liquid swirled lazily inside. He turned it in his grip, then—without warning—he slammed it down, shattering the glass into jagged shards across the wooden surface.

The men flinched.

Finally. Finally, they realized.

“You think tonight went well?” he asked, voice even. Controlled. “You think that was a clean job?”

Silence.

“Because from where I was standing, it looked sloppy.” His words came slow, deliberate. “Messy. Reckless.”

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table, watching as they shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.

“It was just some low-level asshole,” one of them muttered. “It’s not like he had protection. No one’s gonna come looking.”

Lando smiled. It was a sharp, humorless thing.

“You really think… that’s the fucking point?” he asked, voice deadly quiet.

The man swallowed.

“Are you all fucking stupid?”

One of them, Daniel —a lanky Australian bloke with a knack for fixing vehicles who’d been part of his team for a few years now— shifted, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Look, man, it was clean—”

Lando moved fast.

A sharp, brutal swing of his fist connected with Daniel’s ribs, knocking the breath out of him instantly. He staggered back, wheezing, but Lando didn’t let him recover. His hand shot out, gripping the front of Daniel’s shirt and yanking him forward until they were inches apart.

“Clean?” Lando echoed, his voice dripping with venom. “You brought him and dropped him in a place people actually walk through. You never sweeped the area. Then, you left a fucking body in the open? You idiot,” he seethes. “And now you’re standing here telling me it was clean?”

Daniel’s hands grasped Lando’s wrist, but he didn’t dare push him off. The others watched in tense silence, knowing better than to intervene.

Lando released him with a rough shove, sending him stumbling back onto a chair. He stepped around the table, slow, purposeful, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You guys got cocky,” he continued. “You were loud. You did it out in the open, like amateurs. And you left yourselves exposed.”

Another beat of silence.

Lando’s gaze flicked over them, assessing. He didn’t mention the witness—the quiet, bookish girl who had stumbled onto something she was never meant to see. He had handled it. They didn’t need to know.

“You don’t get paid to be stupid,” he said finally, his voice smooth as if they were merely discussing the weather, yet something about it had their hearts lodged in their throats. “You get paid to be precise. To be efficient. And if you ever,” he pauses, “-fuck up like that again, I won’t be cleaning up your mess. I’ll be cleaning up you.”

The threat sat heavy in the air, settling into their bones.

Good.

One of the men —Carlos, the Spanish man who had been in charge of planning tonight’s job— shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “It won’t happen again,” he said, accent curling at the ends of his quiet words.

Lando tilted his head, considering him. Then, in one fluid motion, he reached for the man’s hand resting on the table, grabbed his pinky, and snapped it.

Carlos howled, jerking back, but Lando kept him there, gripping his wrist in an iron hold as he leaned down to just beside Carlos’s ear, lowering his voice to something eerily calm.

“I know it won’t.”

He let go, stepping back, watching as Carlos cradled his mangled finger, his face twisted in pain.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Lando mused, wiping his hands on a napkin before tossing it onto the table alongside the rest of their earlier rubbish. “Now, clean this shit up. And next time? Get it right the first time, yeah?”

“I had to take care of a loose end tonight because you were sloppy,” he continued, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. Sharp eyes flicked between them, his lip curling in disgust. “I believe it should be clear by now that if you ever put me in that position again, I won’t be dealing with a loose end — I’ll be dealing directly with you.”

Silence.

No one spoke. No one even breathed too loudly.

Lando exhaled sharply, shaking out the lingering tension in his knuckles before rolling his shoulders back. He unfolded his collar, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt as though he hadn’t just threatened to kill them.

“Sort the body. Properly,” he said flatly. “Let’s see if you can actually do something right.”

They nodded, silent and obedient.

Lando turned on his heel, walking toward the grand staircase at center of the house without another word, not bothering to glance back.

By the time he got into his room, the remnants of his rage had dulled into something more calculating. He had made his point. They wouldn’t mess up again—not if they wanted to keep breathing.

And as for her —the girl wrapped in her blankets, now fast asleep in her too-small apartment, oblivious to the choices being made in her name— he still hadn’t decided what to do with her yet. He hadn’t brought her up, didn’t tell them how close they’d come to getting their ]ittle job tonight exposed because she was his problem now.

And if it ever came to it? 

He was more than willing to solve it himself.

a/n: thank you for the response so far! likes, comments, and reblogs are the fuel that motivates me to go work on the next chapter. lmk what you thought of this one!