#ALSO 50 DAYS UNTIL HE'S BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 9 months

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘, 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 | BFD!Joel x Fem!Reader

summary | the rich father of your bestfriend, sarah — joel miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. [12k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, bfd!joel, ceo!joel, mentions of reader growing up poor/absent parents (joel is ridiculously loaded, it's fic y'all let me live lol), sneaking around, age gap (not explicitly specified, but reader is in final year of college and joel is probs late 40s/50s), vacations, gift-giving, unprotected piv, come swallowing, daddy issues if you squint, one (1) pussy slap, oral (f receiving), semi-public fucking

author’s note | anyways, here’s this. big age gap, some power dynamic stuff but not really. if you don’t like, don’t read & all that jazz. love you babies. xo.

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There was no hiding who Joel Miller was to the town of Austin—a pioneer in the community for rebuilding and building upon the surrounding shopping areas and neighborhoods to save the town from complete gentrification. He owned three companies at this point—one manned by his brother Tommy who dealt with larger businesses, handled the biggest amount of workload when it came to dealing with customers. The other was handled by his wife Maria, more often communicating with smaller businesses in the area. Mom and Pop shops, family owned and locally sourced shops. And Joel dealt with the community directly, building houses at an affordable rate that kept his business booming and well above the surrounding competition.

He was so sought after that the idea of him felt like an enigma.

But, to you—he was just Sarah’s dad. For years you never had the pleasure of meeting him, with his constantly busy schedule he was often away when you came to visit Sarah on their massive—almost too comically large piece of land on the outskirts of Austin, Texas.

A large two-story farmhouse that seemed like something right out of a storybook—pristine and in perfect condition, surrounded by what felt like miles of grassy land and fencing. Horses, chickens, goats, growing piglets that were taken care of by Sarah and Joel themselves.

You’ve known Sarah since you were fourteen, aware of her upbringing and the type of family she came from, but it never deterred her from being the kindest friend you’ve had. And your shared, similar interest led to an easy friendship that lasted well into college. Sarah was also aware of your…less than ideal family situation, living under the roof of a single parent household, given you were an only child it wasn’t horrible—but your father was a drunk and didn’t manage his money well and that often meant going without. It didn’t matter what, but there was always something lacking that you wish you didn’t have to make up for with your already overwhelming amount of college work and lingering debt.

You didn’t have anywhere to go, unfortunately.

But, Sarah was always there.

And it isn’t until your final year of college that you find yourself finally meeting the once mysterious Joel Miller, remembering that Sarah told you something about how he was trying to take a step back, allowing more responsibility on his trusting employees to head the company while he took a step back and managed everything as a whole from a distance—less involved, more time at home around Sarah, it was a win win situation.

With both of you working toward similar degrees, it was helpful and convenient to share notes and study as often as you could, especially as your final term papers were nearing and looming like a dark cloud.

It’s an unsuspecting Thursday night when you and Sarah are pausing the heavy studying to cook a quick dinner when Joel walks into the kitchen, approaching the island and nearly tilting your entire existence on this earth on an axis. Your breath catches briefly, eyes dragging over his figure. You’ve seen pictures—family vacations that Sarah has shown you when they were flying across the country over summer breaks and you were stuck at home.

But, nothing compared to the real thing.

His hair is grown out, curling around his ears. A warm, soft brown that is styled and shaped so perfectly it seems unreal—but the loose curl that falls over his forehead gives it away. There’s a deep cut in his silk-pressed shirt that hangs loosely on his frame, some abstract pattern that shouldn’t work as well as it does on him, but his tan skin compliments the deep tones and varying designs. The faint dusting of chest hair is obscured by the chains that hang in the space the silk-button up creates where he lacks the ability to fasten them, or rather chooses not to.

And you try not to let your gaze linger on the cut of his jeans as they cling snug to his legs, cuffed at the ankles and showcasing a pair of—what you can only suspect are new loafers. A dark chocolate brown accented with a gold metal piece along the center to complement his jewelry around his neck and the few rings placed meticulously on his fingers.

It’s no secret his ring finger sits untouched, lacking the heavy weight of a significant other's mark. Sarah mentioned her mom dying young, much like your own—maybe that’s why you two bonded so easily.

“Got enough for your old man?” Joel questions curiously, tapping away at his phone meticulously before pocketing it, eyebrows raised in question.

“You hate boxed mac and cheese,” Sarah argues flippantly, flicking the empty box at her father across the counter, “so no, I don’t.”

“No, babygirl—I just hate the powder kind.” He flicks it back just as easily and you note how easy their relationship feels, like this is how things should be.

Sarah laughs, scrunching her nose up in amusement. “Charming, isn’t he?”

Oh—she’s talking to you? You look at her for half a second, confused, before you’re quickly nodding in agreement without fully listening to what she had asked.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to lie.” She assures, stirring the noodles in the pot over the stove.

Your gaze lingers selfishly, catching the faint twitch of a smile on Joel’s face as he catches you looking. It’s nothing more than a friendly smile, comforting rather than disarming.

“You know—Sarah never brings her friends around.” Joel starts begrudgingly, eyeing Sarah down before switching to you, “Seein’ as I’ve been hearing all about you for years now and I’m just now meetin’ you in the flesh.”

“Dad, stop scaring her.” Sarah gripes, searching around haphazardly for a couple of bowls, “seriously—just ignore him. He doesn’t know how to act now that he’s home more.”

Joel rolls his eyes dismissively, extending his hand in a kind gesture. You grab it hesitantly and he senses it, pointer finger dragging along the underside of your palm as he holds it delicately and bows his head.

“She’s just mad she can’t get rid of me now,” Joel tells you softly, nodding toward Sarah over your shoulder, “how’s the studying goin’?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand immediately and you don’t try to escape either, allowing the brief moment of lingering contact before you slip it away, shoving your hands into your back pockets.

“Fine.” Sarah’s response is clipped.

It’s stressful, if you’re being honest. But, you could see that Sarah didn’t want to relay that to her father, side-eyeing you wearily.

It’s the first of many interactions that led to the tiny crush you began to have for Joel Miller. Your once a week studies eventually turn into two or three times a week, desperate to spend as much time away from your own home situation as possible.

Eventually, it’s nearly an everyday thing. You and Sarah would finish your day of classes and drive the short distance to her house and spend most of the night studying. Gradually, you were introduced into their own routine. At first, Joel would offer to buy dinner and leave things be, allowing you the space you needed. But, it eventually delves into weekly dinners and sitting down as if you were a part of this pseudo-family situation you’ve interjected yourself into.

Sarah knew you didn’t like it at home, so it was never a problem. Joel caught on after a few weeks—noticing how you avoided any questions about yourself, your family, anything that would allow him any glimpse into who you were outside what Sarah had told him, which wasn’t much at all. He’s trying to make you feel welcomed and you can appreciate that.

You’ve offered to help pay for meals on multiple occasions, but it never works. Quickly thwarted off by Joel’s extended hand as he shoves your cash away, assuring you that it wasn’t your responsibility. This was his house, his gesture, and he didn’t want you to think you owed him anything.

Yet, something in you yearned to do so.

You wanted him to know just how grateful you were.

His curiosity about you comes to a head on a night after a few beers with friends, poker table trashed and the kitchen a mess. You were bringing down the trash from Sarah’s room, the shared dinner you two had had as a treat for your first day without studying—it was relaxing, mostly because your day had been spent here rather than home.

Joel gathers a few bottles in his large palm, slipping the lips of the bottle through spread fingers. “You two enjoyin’ yourselves?” He asks, looking at you casually. It was a question you’ve heard often, a simple conversation starter. And talking to Joel was much easier now.

You nod, lips pulled into a tight smile. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“C’mon now,” Joel jests, dropping the bottles into the trash, “none of that—it’s Joel. Shit makes me feel old, darlin’.”

The nickname wasn’t new either. He often called Sarah by her name or babygirl.

Darlin’ though, it was all you.

He takes the dirty plates from your hands and places them in the sink, palm extended against the ledge of the counter while he rests his other hand against his hip.

“How are you doin’?” He asks, voice softer but still gruff. “Not that you have to tell me, I just want to make sure you’re feelin’ comfortable here.”

“I’m okay,” You say through an unsure smile that Joel notes but doesn’t press on, “it’s just easier to study here—I’m sorry if I spend too much time around here. Feels like you should be charging me rent by now.”

“Not a chance in hell, darlin’.” Joel grins, shiny white teeth showing behind his smile. The small bit of his shirt that was tucked in came loose by the rub of his fingers at his hip and drawing your eyes to the skin briefly, “you’re always welcome here.”

And you hate the way you crave even an inkling of physical contact from him. A pat on the shoulder, a hug, a fucking kiss on the forehead. You weren’t his daughter, you didn’t want to be. But, there was something about Joel that you couldn’t pull away from, trying your best to keep it at bay.

“You know what,” Joel says suddenly, pulling your lingering gaze back on his face, feeling guilty as you chewed on your bottom lip, “why don’t you come on vacation with Sarah and I next month?’

“Mr—Joel, that’s—” You’re quickly silenced by his hand actually pressing against your shoulder now—and fuck, when had he gotten so close?

“Sarah was thinkin’ about asking you anyways. We’re gonna take a trip to the Keys,” He rubs gently at the junction in your shoulder, the thick expanse of his thumb pressed against bare skin, “—just consider it, alright? Lord knows you both need a break as much as I do.”

The thing about Joel is that he was such a good father, something you haven’t been privy to in the couple decades and some few years you’ve been alive. You want to feel jealous and angry, spiteful that this was something you couldn’t have naturally. But, it feels nothing like that.

The crush you had on Joel was dangerous. But, that was all it was. A craving to be around Joel, to seek his approval and gain his trust. And bask in the care he provides. A simple case of daddy issues that you couldn’t admit to yourself was actually happening.

You shouldn’t entertain the idea.

You shouldn’t even consider it.

“Oh—okay. Yeah, as long as Sarah is alright with that.” You nod, a genuine, soft smile stretching across your face. Joel squeezes your shoulder tighter and you swear you feel it moving in closer, like he wants to hold you closer, cradle you in his hands. But, then the touch is gone and his fingers are running through his hair, curls separating through his fingertips.

“Alright then.” Joel says triumphantly, “You gonna be okay gettin’ home tonight?”

Sarah was driving you home soon, like usual. You nod.

“Good,” Joel nods, “Goodnight, darlin’.”

“Goodnight, Joel.” You say sweetly, patting your hand against the countertop softly, unable to spare a look his way as you walk in the opposite direction.

But, he can’t help his own fleeting and inappropriate thoughts, eyes dragging along your figure as you walk away, hands gripping the countertop like a vice, internally kicking himself how indecent he was allowing himself to think about you. Still, it didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding in and if he found himself spread out on his sheets that night, cock held tight in his hands as he fucked himself into his fist—well, he could repent for it some other time.

You touch down in the early morning on a Sunday, still riddled with anxiety from the plane ride. Joel had tried his best to accommodate, even buying first class tickets despite his usual tendency to go business. He didn’t care much for amenities but he wanted to treat Sarah and you, making you feel guilty with how quickly your face lit up at the sight. Spacious seats stocked with gifts and snacks, a tiny television molded into the area, it felt like too much.

It was. But, Joel assured you it wasn’t.

There was little planned for the week you had to spend there and you had tried to scrounge up a little cash within the month you had to save, picking up a few extra shifts at your job and stowing it away for this—hoping you could treat yourself to something, anything. Even if it was just a stupid tourist shirt that cost an egregious amount of money.

Joel quickly snuffs out that idea, putting his foot down as he assured you that this trip was a treat. Not just for himself, but for all of you. You never asked how much money the Miller’s had, but it was clearly more than you could ever fathom to be imaginable. He yanks the black Amex from his wallet and hands it off to every waiting server and store owner you three come across.

It’s abundantly clear that they don’t worry about money in the sense that you do—it wasn’t unwelcomed, but it was an adjustment that took a couple days to get over, feeling shame for enjoying it. He’d paid for the plane fare, booked the hotels and the activities you had planned, made sure meals were paid for and then some, even allowing you and Sarah some spending money to go shopping for clothes or whatever you needed.

He didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He just wanted you to feel welcomed. Like family…or something.

The trip is fairly harmless fun, a few swimming activities that tire you all out and lend to an early turn in on a couple nights, dinners that lended you to learn a lot more about Joel. Still, as much as Joel tried, you weren’t as open. Vague answers, sidewaying the conversation. He didn’t try to pry, though. And you were thankful for that.

But, with fairly harmless came a few instances that didn’t feel so.

The first comes in the deep end of the ocean, floating on a shared longboard in the midst of the calm waves, humid heat sticking to your skin. Fingers fiddling with the loosening tie around the back of your neck as Sarah wades off to the shore for a brief minute to reapply sunscreen. And maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but you see the lingering look Joel gives you, fingers curling subtly against the edge of the board.

“Can you help me?” You ask, slowly edging around the board until you’re beside him, turning before he has the opportunity to answer. “It’s hard to get it tight on my own.”

Joel clears his throat and offers a smile, “‘Course, chin down for me?” And you follow his lead, feeling his fingers brush against your neck and guide your head down, untying the loose not completely and feeling your swim top go slack, covered by the safety of the water and your back turned to him, but it doesn’t stop the touch of his fingertips against your skin as he ties the knot and tugs slightly, assuring that it was secure to his liking. You lift your head slowly when you feel his palm press flat against your back, fingers curling around the point where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Thanks, Joel.” You turn your head over your shoulder to look back at him, earning a small nod as his touch lingers, only loosening when you rescue your grip on the longboard in front of you.

“Enjoyin’ yourself so far?” He asks, always able to ease into steady conversation without missing a beat. “Any complaints?”

“Definitely,” You smile wide, huffing soft laugh through your nose as you shake your head, “I guess I do have one complaint, actually.” You tell him honestly, a subtle nervousness to your voice.

“Well, I’m all ears, darlin’.” He responds, leaning his elbow onto the board as it bobbed slightly.

“I just…you don’t have to pay for everything, Joel.” You find yourself rushing out the words, hoping that it wouldn’t cause an adverse reaction, but instead, Joel smiles wider.

“Look, I invited you on this trip,” Joel explains, “and that means you aren’t paying for a damn thing. Alright?”

You nod meekly, quieting down as Sarah waded back into the ocean toward you both.

With Joel, it was something you would have to learn to accept.

You try to ignore the lingering touch of his fingertips on your neck, but now it feels like a burn in your skin that would only get worse as time went on.

The second instance isn’t as much of a thing, rather than a moment.

Eyeing a sundress that resembled some of the similar outrageous patterning that Joel wore, shapes and blobs morphed around the material yet somehow managing to look chicer than anything you’ve ever come across, strappy and long and deep cut down the center. It wasn’t for modesty, you could assume that much. You run your fingers along the creases and stitching in the fabric, admiring it as you flipped the tag in your hand, immediately gawking at the price.

Joel had been lingering by, browsing the various knick knacks and souvenirs lining the shelves off the small store—all hand-made pieces that he could appreciate, but didn’t find any use for himself. And he’s watching you, has been for a while, noticing the way your eyes kept flicking back toward the dress despite your path around the store.

Joel casually follows the same path, taking a subtle peek at the tag. It was a few hundred dollars, but given the silkiness of the material and him being very familiar with the tone of pricing around the area, it wasn’t an outrageous ask. He slips the dress off the rack, careful as he removes it off the hanger and finds you separated from Sarah as you peruse down a wall of jewelry—some cheap and some not, looking around with no real want, just admiring.

He slips the dress into your hands, rough, overworked palms cupping your own as he makes you physically wrap your fingers around and claim the garment, chest to your back as he speaks, lips a hair's breadth away from your ear.

“It’s a pretty dress,” Joel says calmly, much calmer than your rapidly beating heart and the sudden uptick in your breathing, silk material spread out over your fingertips, “shame for it to go to waste, darlin’.”

“It’s expensive.” You argue, voice soft as he locks eyes with you in the mirror nestled in the nearest corner, “It’s nice to want things Joel, but I don’t need it.”

“I dunno,” He responds, unconvinced, “and—maybe I’m speaking out of turn but I think it’d look great on you.”

And you’ve never been more thankful of Sarah’s obliviousness to certain things, so wrapped up in her own shopping across the store that you two remained unsuspecting, eyes still locked on one another through the shared mirror.

He can see the way your body twitches at the comment, responds, but what he doesn’t understand is how it makes your cunt throb, solid body pressed against your back as he squeezes the backside of your hands with his palm. The willingness of contact was still fresh and new but it never made you feel unsafe—in fact, it had the opposite effect entirely.

Joel speaks again, directly to you in the mirror.

“I might just have to buy it for you, darlin’.” He says quietly, “You alright with that?”

You hesitate for a moment, but nod shakily. “Thank you, Joel.”

“Don’t need to keep thankin’ me.” Joel assures, “I know it’s implied.”

But, the instance that had you reeling for days after, still replaying it vividly in your mind, was a night near the end of your trip. Sarah had long gone to bed and you, riddled by insomnia, find yourself at the hallway vending machine, looking for a snack to cure your growing hunger.

Though, it seemed that Joel had the same idea—fork halfway into his mouth as he turned the corner, a sizable piece of chocolate cake inside of a small to-go tray, looking even guiltier as he caught sight of you, feeling like he really didn’t want to get caught like this. It makes you laugh into the palm of your hand. Joel is acting like the kid that got sneaking cookies in the middle of the night, still not hesitating to lick the fork clean as he tucked it away in the styrofoam box.

“Don’t tell Sarah,” He swears you to secrecy, “she’s already on my ass enough about my sugar intake.”

“You’ve got a sweet tooth,” You shrug, “nothing wrong with that.”

“What about you, huh?” Joel’s eyebrows raise in question, watching as you peruse the various snacks but not finding anything particularly appetizing. “Late night snack?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You chew at your bottom lip, feeling that this was useless.

“Wanna share it?” Joel asks suddenly, pulling your attention to him immediately. “That way I feel a little less guilty about it.”

“Oh—and then bring me down with you?” You tease lightly, “Of course.”

It’s how you end up in Joel’s room that night, no other intentions than to share that stupid piece of cake, lacking a fork so you trade off for a few bites until it slowly delves into you both feeding each other as you talk, one of you hogging the fork more than the other. You curled up in one chair and Joel relaxed out in the other, styrofoam box held to his chest and forcing you to lean closer to assure you didn’t drop crumbs everywhere.

Maybe it should feel weird, but it doesn’t.

“You know—if there’s anything you do need—” Joel begins after a while, meaningless conversation having died out.

“I know—Sarah tells me all the time. I just have to ask.” It feels pointless, rehashing things again. But, Joel feels the need to reassure and comfort. It didn’t help that he was finding himself, at his age, attracted to you in such a depraved way. “I will—if I do, I mean.”

It’s forbidden territory he couldn’t cross. But realistically, that only made him want you more.

Joel feeds you a slow bite, lips catching over the fork but smearing a copious amount of chocolate frosting on your chin. Before you have the thought process to wipe it away Joel is already there, leaning forward in his chair as he uses his pointer finger to clean you up, eyes following his movements carefully after the first initiation of touch.

Your breath catches in your throat, expecting him to use his own mouth to disallow wasting the frosting, but instead he raises it to your mouth in a split decision, his eyes dilating slightly under your shy gaze. Your lips press against the side of his finger in a gentle kiss that quickly spreads, taking the full length of his finger into your mouth as you lick away the excess frosting, feeling the pulse of desire in your belly as it grew, knowing that if Joel wanted to keep you there he could, locked under his gaze with his fingers stuffed into your mouth and you’d let him.

It was despicable. Inappropriate and wrong. But, you couldn’t help how badly your body wanted him, despite your brain telling all of this was a horrible decision.

You pull your mouth away with a soft pop, watching as Joel curl’s his hands into tight fists as he pulls them back to his side lazily, seeming more tense now.

“I should go.” You say softly, terrified to disturb this moment and the tension that blanketed it.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, darlin’.” Joel says reluctantly.

Things only get worse from then on—and maybe worse is a strong word. But, it soon turns into a game that neither of you can stop, waiting until one of you finally makes the wrong move.

A few weeks later and your laptop takes the shit on a random Tuesday, head buried in your hands as Sarah tries to console you, but it isn’t much use. You knew it was a stretch to think the laptop could last you through the entire semester, and with just a few short months left, it couldn’t be worse timing.

Joel walks in at your inconvenience, keys jingling in his hands as he slips off his leather peacoat, glancing at Sarah who didn’t give him much to go off of. He folds the jacket over the back of an empty dining chair and rests his hands against the top of it, eyes scanning over the both of you at the table, one looking a little more distraught than the other.

“Everything alright?” He asks curiously, earning a subtle head shake from Sarah. He clears his throat, “Or—uh, well, how is the studying going? Feel like that’s all you two do.”

You rub a frustrated hand over your face and sigh, “I’m gonna see if I can get a ride home or something,” You tell Sarah, sliding your phone off of the table, “I’ll deal with this later.”

Joel and Sarah share a quick look of communication, her hand waving toward you sharply, forcing Joel to speak up before you make another rash decision and spend money on a long ride home when had the perfect opportunity standing right in front of you.

“I can give you a ride home.” Joel offers, much to your surprise.

You’ve been alone with Joel a lot now, though inadvertently.

Sarah would sneak away in her room for longer stretches of time just to call her boyfriend—which wasn’t a bad thing, but it felt odd when Joel would come home and there was no one to greet him but you. Still, you stretched your lips into a smile and welcomed him sweetly.

Even if this was his home.

Or times when you just happened to cross each other's path, even in such a large space. Sometimes the front porch when you were taking a break to stretch your legs, his watchful gaze dragging along your figure as he sipped on a hot cup of coffee in the evening, foot stabilized on the deck as he rocked in the wooden swing he sat on, crickets chirping loudly as the sun set.

Or just a simple trip to the bathroom, his bedroom across the hall and a couple doors down, often shut, but there were moments when you opened the doors, nearly face to face, and neither of you could look away. Joel would clear his throat, excuse himself, and kindly gesture for you to walk first. It happened often, too often—but neither of you addressed it. Instead, the tension grew. And grew. Until it felt like poking a sleeping bear. So it hibernated in both of you quietly.

Part of you expected things to change, that the small moment shared in his hotel room would make things hard to navigate, but if anything—it’s easier.

“Okay.” You agree easily, not having the proper energy to fight him over it.

The ride is quiet for the most part and Joel doesn’t need the step by step directions as he knows this town like the back of his hand, but he makes a wrong turn somewhere between his house and yours and you don’t feel like something is wrong, but it definitely feels off.

“Joel, you missed the last left.” You speak up as he continues down the road, glancing around leisurely as you soon delve onto a main street, lined with several shops. “Joel—”

“I’m gonna make a quick stop,” Joel attempts to ease your worries, fingers tapping against the gear shift positioned in the center console, “if you don’t mind.”

The moment he pulls into the parking lot of the electronic store, you know. You can see it in his eyes as he squints, checking that the store is still open and pulls into a parking spot near the front of the store.

“Joel, no—” You grab his wrist suddenly, his free hand reaching for the door handle and he looks down, eyes connecting where your skin touched before slowly flicking up to you, “look—just, I don’t need you to buy me a new fuckin’ laptop. I can handle it.”

Joel’s shoulders shrug in his obnoxiously patterned shirt, like he’s working out a kink in his neck as he repositions himself in the seat but doesn’t pull away from you. In fact, his hand gradually pulls toward your knee, fingers squeezing around your kneecap comfortingly.

“Considering it a loan then?” Joel tries to bargain, “Let me help you out now so you won’t have to worry about it and you can pay me back as you get the money? I see how often Sarah uses her laptop, it doesn't make sense for you to go without when I can help.”

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, staring intensely back at him. You could put your foot down and deny his offer, but the idea of suffering through the rest of the semster without your sole life line to surviving through college—well, that was actually torture.

“I’m paying back every single penny.” You tell him forthright, waiting until he nods in agreement.

“Sounds like a deal to me.” Joel responds.

Joel spares no expense, which doesn’t come as a surprise. He buys you the highest, top notch laptop they have to offer—and even as you stare daggers into the side of his face, there’s an inkling in your mind that tells you he isn’t going to allow you to hold up your end of the deal.

Joel liked to party too—not giant parties that felt overwhelming and unwelcoming. But, he did have a close group of older male friends that he liked to play poker with on the back deck of the Miller household.

Sarah learned to block it out early on, knowing that at some point things would get just a little too loud and not as easy to ignore. But, Joel never made you feel out of place within any of these instances. You were welcome here all the time and Joel was clear about that.

He’s showered you with gifts and accommodation and you hate the way it makes you feel special, wanted—beyond the night in his hotel room it was only innocent glances. It felt like you were misreading things, making something out of nothing.

Things aren’t great at home and you like it here—love it, even. And you feel your mind nagging away to make a stupid, spur of the moment decision. You could ignore it, but then your eyes catch Joel’s through the slight crack in the door, trapping you in his gaze like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

He squints slightly, lips curling around his beet bottle as he takes a long swig, fist uncurling against his jeans as he rubs out his palm and smiles—he has you hooked in so fucking easy it feels pathetic.

This is wrong. You inhale a shaky breath and turn away, busying yourself with literally anything else—a scuff on the table, the chipped nail polish on your fingernails, something.

Eventually his friends filter out—and Sarah had invited you to stay over the night barring that it was the weekend and she enjoyed your presence just as much as you did hers—if only she could understand the now huge, harboring crush you had on her father. It was harmless, but it felt like a betrayal.

And the feeling only increased as the night creeped along, your burdening insomnia keeping you awake, shifting and turning in the sheets beside her as you tried and failed miserably to fall asleep.

It was quiet out here, less commotion from the city. It was eerie, in a way.

You slip out of the bed quietly, walking barefoot on the hardwood as you tiptoed until you were outside of her room, closing the door behind you. You weren’t hungry, so you didn’t bother with the kitchen, rather heading toward the front door that was already halfway open.

Part of you expected Joel to be sitting on the porch, no real rhyme or reason. But, even he is out of sight. The soft, well-kept grass welcomes the press of your feet as you wander outside slowly, the hug of the warm spring air on your skin even this late at night. You catch one of the Miller’s horses hanging out around the edge of their enclosure, wondering if they managed to nudge their way out of their stable. You approach slowly, still not as accustomed to them as you’d like to be.

But, they were friendly. So, you raised a careful hand and rubbed gently at the horse’s mane, smiling at the soft huff it offered in return, leaning its snout over the fence more.

“Sunshine is always friendly,” Joel says from somewhere you don’t see, startling you out of your body as you jump, whipping your head around to look for him, eventually landing on his approaching form as he left the barn that held the stables, “—sneaky little gal, though.”

You laugh softly, finding it hard to believe that such a sweet horse was capable of escaping.

Joel whistles softly, beckoning her toward him. “Come on.” He nods, silently asking you to join him. You follow eagerly, watching as he unlocks the entrance to the fence for you to slip through, locking it behind you as you pass the threshold, catching up with Joel in a few steps.

“Don’t sleep well, do you?” He asks, heading turned over his shoulder briefly to look at you. You nod quietly, leisurely approaching Sunshine’s stable and watching as Joel locks her back up, rattling the gate for safety this time, ensuring it was secure. “Seems we have a few things in common.”

Joel stays quiet for a moment—in his own head, a deep moment of contemplation, carrying and safeguarding these thoughts he knows he shouldn’t have, wondering how your skin would feel against his palm, how the pulse of your heart would feel as he pressed his hand to the center of your chest and kissed you, full tongue and consumed your essence, this unignorable aura you had around you.

He feels sick, distraught. But, he can’t force himself to avoid you either.

“There’s somethin’ that usually helps me,” Joel tells you, hand pressed wordlessly against the center of your back as he guides you out of the barn and locks it up as well, “just goin’ somewhere quiet—lot of the time it’s just my thoughts keepin’ me awake.”

God, if only he knew.

He did, but that wasn’t the point.

Joel quiets for a moment, stuffing the ring of keys into his pocket as he glances over at the house briefly.

“You wanna go for a quick drive?” Joel asks suddenly, forcing it out before he can find a reason to stop himself.

“As long as it doesn’t end with you buying me another laptop, sure.” You chide deviously, watching the smirk grown on Joel’s face, knowing he still hasn’t taken a dollar from you.

And vehemently refuses every time you offer.

Joel drives you the path further into the land of property he owns, most of it still unexplored by you, eventually finding a clearing near the east edge, right on the edge of a body of water and a dock nestled near the shore. There’s a small boat tied to a post, big enough for a few people.

Under this light, as you exit the truck, Joel looks different.

He’s free of the weight of jewelry he wore, comfortable in his worn shirt and soft cotton shorts. For a while, Joel had been such an enigma that you weren’t sure what to make of him. Sure, he was just Sarah’s dad—but he was also Joel Miller, backbone of the town. His face was plastered everywhere. There wasn’t a single street you could traverse down that didn’t have him nestled away somewhere.

He spots a small mud puddle under your feet as he rounds the truck and quickly catches you before your feet get stuck, hands locked in yours as you jump over the small patch of wet dirt.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him, silently thanking him with your eyes.

“Can you swim?” He asks casually.

“Yeah…” You respond hesitantly, eyes locked onto the boat several feet away.

Joel releases your hands, but it doesn't matter. His touch still lingered painfully and you want nothing more than to pull him back in. But, now Joel is asking to go on a midnight boat ride with you and—really, how could you turn that down?

Joel rows you toward the center of the lake, your eyes locked onto the mesmerizing sight of the stars in the sky, so much clearer out here and away from the city.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Joel asks, not bothering to look his way.

You smile slightly, leaning back onto the palms of your hands.

“Yeah, it really is.” You miss the way Joel’s gaze lingers, admiring you.

“Now—sometimes I just come out here and talk to nothin’,” Joel explains when the boat comes to a full stop and he rests the oars inside the boat, knees spread as he resting his elbows on them, “then other times I just sit and enjoy the quiet.”

Your choice—that’s what he’s implying.

You clear your throat softly, finally changing a glance his way.

“I just—I don’t wanna say I’m jealous of what you have here,” You say quietly, “but, it really is a bitter reminder of without Sarah or you, I’d have next to nothing.”

Joel stays quiet, allowing you to marinate in thought and figure out how to convey how you were feeling.

“And—I don’t know. Selfishly, I like it.” Liked him. “But, I don’t want to rely on it and you make that a little impossible. I do have money, Joel. I can pay for things. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to do any of this out of necessity.”

“I’m not,” Joel admits, “Now—what makes you think that, darlin’?”

“I just—I don’t want anyone thinking I need to be fixed, I don’t.” You tell him, “I don’t need charity, either.”

Joel waves his fingers in a come closer motion, taking your slowly extending hands in his own, thumbs rubbing over soft skin tenderly, boring his eyes into your own.

“I’m gonna tell you this once and I need you to listen,” Joel says softly, but his voice feels so loud in the silence of the night, breeze hitting your skin and sending a sharp chill up your spine—but, you’re not how much of mother nature is responsible for that, “really listen, alright?”

You nod slowly, blinking a few times as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze.

“What I give you isn’t charity,” Joel tells you seriously, “and—maybe this is crossing a boundary I shouldn’t but, you’re somethin’ close to family. I take care of people I care about.”

Not family—he couldn’t conitate that with the feelings and thoughts he was having toward you.

“Close to family?” He was praying you wouldn’t harp on it, but you needed to confirm the underlying layer of tension that lingered between you two all the time. It was driving you insane, keeping you late into the night—he was the reason for your insomnia.

Joel smirks slightly, covering it with a quiet chuckle. His hand gradually cradles your face, rubbing along your cheek with a delicate touch, “I think you know, darlin’.”

God, he hoped you did. His thumb dragging along your plush bottom lip, eyes lingering for a brief moment before he pulls away, immediately missing his touch as he reigns himself to the idea that he may have crossed a line, quietly rowing the way back toward the dock.

Neither of you get much sleep that night anyways.

More time passes, lingering touches grow, and Joel is terrible at hiding his affinity for you now. Finding that those few words burned all regards he had toward keeping himself restrained around you. He had enough of a mind to keep it private—but there were comments, sweet little words that he’d whisper as you walked by or he caught you alone.

Nothing scandalizing, but just enough that it had your heart fluttering in your chest.

Until there is a small slip up, helping the Miller’s with dinner one night as Sarah escapes to the bathroom for a brief moment, your arms outstretched into the cabinet to grab for something just out of reach.

“Use the stool, darlin’,” Joel sees your struggle, “safer that way.”

You look around observantly before you find a folded up stool tucked into the only open corner in the kitchen, taking it back to your spot and unfolding it.

“Good girl.” Joel comments quietly, catching the startled look on your face as your head snaps back toward him. And he has the nerve to smile, noticing the hitch in your breath.

And it only grows in intensity until you can’t stand it anymore, cornering him in the kitchen on a night where Sarah is already upstairs gathering herself for bed, thinking you had come down for a couple bottles of water.

Joel is nursing a small glass of whiskey and he’s silent, but his gaze tracks your movement. You move toward him.

There is a belief in you, fully realized, that something is up here.

"Joel," You lick your lips hesitantly, squaring yourself up against the counter, standing straight, trying not to seem like you were teetering near a dangerous edge of delirium, wondering if you were imagining all of this, "can I ask you something?"

There's a severe lack of distance between you two, knees knocking against each other gently from where you both stand, eyes searching out cautiously even though you know there's nothing to worry about. You were alone, something that has happened far too many times over the past few months. Lingering moments of wandering gazes, eyes connecting from across the room even if Joel was surrounded by people, partying with friends while you're tucked away in the corner while Sarah talks to you about the boys at school that you can't be bothered to give the time of day.

Because of Joel. Because your mind is so tainted by the idea of him.

His palm is flattened out against the counter, adorned with a couple golden rings that clack against the marble, gold chains to match that sat perfectly against his chest, framing the small patch of hair that peeked out over his unbuttoned shirt, silk-pressed and adorned in a silly design that somehow always managed to work perfectly with whatever Joel paired it with.

"Course," He assures you, "You need somethin'? 'Cause you know if things aren't alright at home you're welcome to stay with us."

He’s not amiss to notice just how much time you spend here and no one bothers to come around and check on you. Given you were an adult, it was still glaringly obvious you escaped here for a reason.

Joel reaches out to touch your cheek, the warmth of his skin melding with your own as your breath catches in your throat.

Touch wasn't new, but it never got old. Like a brand against your skin that screamed out for more. You look down briefly, mouth opening slightly to say something, but quickly resigns back to its previous position, lips pursed under a soft scowl.

"I can take care of you," Joel reminds, like you could ever fucking forget it, written all over your features and the outfits you wore now, the dainty gold chain that he'd leant to you as a gift when you pointed out how much you liked it—he'd bought it for himself but there was no resistance in offering over it over to you, bright smile stretching across your face in the moment that Joel felt a sickening addiction to, "—if that's what you need, sweetheart."

You nod instinctively, though you’re not sure what you’re answering too.

“We’ve got a spare room,” Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, the huskiness to his voice shouldn’t feel intimate speaking such meaningless words, “plenty of room for you, alright?”

“Mhm,” You answer weakly, feeling the distance start to close as Joel tries—really fucking tries to fight it, but he can’t help the way his eyes track the way your body responds to his teach, lip trembling when you release it from it’s hold between your teeth, “thank you, Joel.”

“For?” Your heart is racing, terrified of being caught but also enticed by how openly Joel is admiring you, eyes wide with adoration and curiousness, something undiscovered and new to him.

“Taking care of me.” You echo his words, but you’re both quickly retching away at the sound of a door creaking upstairs, separating in an instant.

This was all you had—fleeting moments that would never be.

The logistics are complicated to figure out at first, but finishing up the last few weeks of schooling away from the stress of being at home and somewhere where you could actually focus outside of school made the most sense. You pack a big enough bag to last you through the month, clothes and personal belongings you care about, and make the small guest room your new home.

At least, as much as you could.

Luckily, your final classes are a breeze—thankful that most of your discipline with studying had paid off, you and Sarah would graduate in another couple weeks and allow yourself a real break over the summer before deciding how you both wanted to continue. More schooling or not, you would handle that later—for now, you let your mind rest.

And Sarah, well, she escapes the first chance she gets—the first official day free of responsibilities she’s running off for a weekend vacation with her boyfriend, assuring she didn’t mind you tagging along if you wanted to come, but you could see it on her face—she wanted privacy.

So, you had no problem staying back.

A weekend alone—with Joel? Who could barely keep his eyes off of you know that you were around constantly, even in the early mornings when he’d walk through the kitchen shirtless and fumbling with the old coffee pot he refused to get rid of. It was a side to him you hadn’t seen much of and it was slowly etching itself into your memory.

Everything implodes the first night that Sarah is gone, unknowingly yet not unwelcome. But, it’s a turning point neither of you can come back from.

It’s undeniable the amount of boiling sexual tension that has stirred between you both between Joel’s heated gaze and scandalizing comments, stuff that he tries to hold in but fails when he sees how easily of an effect it has on you.

So, as luck would have it, your restless minds meet again.

Joel stops between his open bedroom door and the wall, watching as you approach quietly, smiling kindly as you reach for the door to the guest room, bidding him a soft goodnight.

He could spend his night writhing in bed, hand around his cock as he jerked himself to the thought of you a few feet over, nestled under your sheets—unbeknownst to him, relieving yourself in a similar way and yearning for the stretch of him rather than your measly fingers. It used to relieve the ache and help you sleep, but now it made things impossibly worse.

His fingers encircle your wrist quick, but carefully, silence your ultimate downfall as you stare over at him curiously, his eyes pleading something so desperate it roots itself into your own mind. Like an invisible string tethered to your bodies, it pulls you both together instinctively.

He doesn’t hesitate with touch now, slowly barricading his hands against the side of your neck, gradually working to cradle your head, tipping your head back as he leaned in, not willing himself to cross that line unless you allowed it. He knew the second you stepped over he was done for, similarly, you knew that to be true for yourself.

“Tell me to stop,” Joel begs, “—tell me and I’ll give this up.”

You double down, pressing your face against his own, nose pressing against each other, speaking against his lips in a venomous tone that seeps into his bloodstream.

“No,” You tell him, steadfast and unwavering, “I don’t think I will.”

Joel breathes in sharply before his reverence is breaking, pressing you up against the solidness of the guest room door and crashing his lips against your own, his grip bruising as he palms at your thighs, hooking a leg around his hip as he grinds into you, the feeling dulled out by layers of fabric but you can still feel him. He’s hard and straining against the soft fabric and making no attempt to hide how much you affected him.

“We’re makin’ a big mistake,” Joel says into your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth to prove his point, pulling a sharp moan from your chest at the slight sting, “you realize that?”

You find your courage and part from him briefly, open palm rubbing against the line of his cock, slowly trailing up and under his shirt, blunt nails clawing into the stomach, the muscle tensing under your skin, “I’m well aware—are you gonna stand here and have a moral dilemma about it or are you going to fuck me, Mr. Miller?”

It ignites a fury behind his eyes, ravenous and wild. He grips your face tightly, tilting your head up at a slightly uncomfortable angle, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing from the show of dominance, the grin spreading across your face all Joel needed to confirm his suspicions about you.

You enjoyed this—him, the little game you’ve allowed him to play over the past few weeks. And just as he’d said before, he wanted to take care of you—in as many ways possible.

“Say it again,” He warns, squeezing your cheeks together between his tight grip on your face, “—fuckin’ say it.”

“Mr. Miller,” You drone sweetly, best you can through his sturdy grip, “—hm, is that what you want to hear? Is that what gets off at night?”

Joel’s eyes squint slightly, attempting to read your expression. How would you know?

“Always want me to call you Joel because Mr. Miller is just too much, right?” You tease, “I guess you could lie to me, but the look on your face says otherwise.”

The back of your head drops softly against the door, nowhere to go as Joel has you crowded, hand tight on the doorknob and unmoving. You’re trapped and you can’t be bothered to care.

His hand trails to your neck gradually and squeezes, eyes rolling into the back of your head briefly as his jaw clenches, teeth gritting together as he bares them and speaks, “Should’ve guessed you’d like it like this, huh?”

You feign cluelessness, eyes half-lidded and staring back defiantly, swallowing against the solid hand he held against your neck.

“Tell me you want it,” Joel presses, feeling how mutely you attempt to press against hold and fail, “need to hear you say it first.”

“What? That I want you cock, Joel?” You say vivaciously, grinning at how his mouth twitches at your words, cooing out a soft, “Because I do.”

And that’s all the confession Joel needs before he’s breaking the barrier and shoving you inside the guest room, slamming the door closed behind him with a foot as he tracks and approaches you, hauling you from the back of your thighs as your ass hits the bed, scooting back slightly and spreading your legs to allow him to slot perfectly between them.

The fabric of your shirt bunches in his hands as pushes it up and away, lips pressing hotly against your stomach, mouthing at the skin greedily, quickly forcing the shirt up your shoulders until you get the idea and rip the shirt over your head, bare breasts bouncing against the jostling of your body. Joel has half the mind to gawk before he’s latching his mouth around your nipple, biting gently at the flesh despite his choice to be more aggressive than you expected. It’s the right amount of too soft and too much, your fingers curling into his hair at the root and pulling, earning a soft groan in response.

His curls fall freely over his eyes from where he’s looking up at you, lips lingering against your breast tantalizingly, “Let me taste you.” He tells you, his fingers dancing along the hem of your bottoms, his body descending as you find yourself nodding absently, helping him in the impatient push and pull until he has you naked and bare before him, his cock straining prominently against the thin material of his pants, rubbing himself through the fabric as he uses his free hand to spread you wide, marveling at the sight of your slick over the lips of your cunt.

Joel settles against the sheets, broad shoulders supporting your thighs as he adjusts them over him and hovers closely of your cunt, waiting for your eyes to connect in a brief moment of confirmation

You wanted this. And so did he.

He remains wide-eyed as his lips connecting with your cunt, straight for your aching clit as he sucks, flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot with a precision that has you falling slack against the sheets, mouth open in a blissful agony as Joel works away at your pussy like he’s had a million years to study it, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you continue to pull and twist at his hair, selfishly grinding yourself against his face.

He never breaks his gaze on your face, even when you find yourself with your head thrown back, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly, admiring the hurried rise and fall of your chest as you moan out something intelligible, slowly beginning to make sense in his hazy mind, “Oh—right—right there, Joel. Fuck, please—” You beg sweetly, feeling weightless as he lowers his mouth to your neglected hole and licks inside, his nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

“C’mon, baby,” He murmurs against your pussy, “keep talkin’, let me hear you.”

You sigh in exasperation, feeling the burgeoning ache of your impending climax, “Faster—” Joel is an astute listener, never missing a beat as he picks up his pace and adds more pressure, “–shit, I’m gonna—”

Joel silences you with his eagerness to make you come, words falling flat as he assales your clit with a determination to have you coming against his mouth, feeling the muscles spasm as you crying out his name in desperation, orgasming over his greedy tongue as he laps you up synonymously, forcing your body into overstimulation until you have to physically force him away.

Joel doesn’t have half the mind to speak, eyes darkened to near black as he rises to remove his shirt, pants and underwear following quickly after, undressing under your hazy gaze as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart before he’s fisting himself tightly, tip of his cock rubbing against the line of your pussy and catching your entrance, using the last bit of restraint he had left.

He should be courteous and ask about protection—but there’s a heat behind your eyes when you see his thoughts wandering, quickly snuffing out any worries. You reach gently for the hand not fisting his cock, cradling your knee gently, “We’re safe.” You assure him, the first moment of deep, unsettling reality as he realizes the weight of his choices before him—he’s already committed a few atrocities he knows he can’t come back from, so, what was a few more?

And he couldn’t say no to you, not with you staring up at him so wantonly, eyes pleading something desperate and meek, curious if this was all just a heat of the moment thing. Partly, it was—but this was months upon months of built up tension finally spilling into reality.

Joel isn’t sweet either, as he presses inside you. It shouldn’t surprise you, his impatient nature as he pulls you in close, hands gripping under your thighs and manhandling you until your folded nearly in half, hips pistoning sharp and rough, his gaze locked on the sight of himself disappearing inside of you, the sheen of your slick over his cock as you suck him in greedily.

“Come on, baby,” He grunts roughly, “keep showin’ me how good I make you feel. Show me how grateful you are.”

As if it wasn’t already obvious, obscene noises, feeling the quiet air as you sob out, feeling the angle change as he shifts his knee by your ass, angling your hips up slightly.

“Thank—thank you,” You say softly, broken as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting something sensitive inside of you, the coiling heat in your stomach rebuilding quickly, “thankyouthankyouthankyou,” You ramble mindlessly.

Mesmerized, you watch his curls bounce freely over his forehead, overgrown hair sticking to his skin from the soft sheen of sweat, the muscles in his broad shoulders straining as he holds your legs prisoner in his grips, hips aching dully from the unusual angle but you ignore it. He’s locked onto your pussy for a long stretch of time, entranced until he hears your soft moans, realizing you’ve been admiring him this whole time, eyes locking on you in a moment of vulnerability as he speaks directly to you, hips slowing to a manageable, but still slightly overwhelming pace.

“Always—know how to appreciate things, isn’t that right?” Joel asks, the redundancy not lost on you, “Take everything I give you and never ask. Never greedy—just lettin’ me spoil you.”

“Joel—” You whine, his hand slowly trailing the path to your joined bodies, thumb circling slowly over your clit briefly, “—harder, fuck me—harder.”

“But, look at you now—so fuckin’ greedy for my cock,” He’s speaking through a slight groan, releasing the straining hold on your thighs as he falls, spreading his legs out and using his arms for support as he holds himself over you, hands fisting into the sheets beside your head, “gonna make me cum, baby.”

You find yourself desperate for touch now, wrapping your arms around his neck until he’s nearly chest to chest, forehead resting against your own as you whimper into his open mouth, “I want it.”

Joel makes a small noise of question, “Want what, baby?”

“Your cum,” You reply softly, watching the way his pupils dilate at your words, “—please?”

Joel groans involuntarily, feeling the dignified squeeze of your walls around his cock.

“Where?” He asks slightly breathless, panting into your mouth.

You reach blindly for his hand, using his pointer and middle finger to breach your lips, pressing flat against your tongue, “Right here.” You mumble around the thick digits.

It’s the first thing you’ve ever explicitly asked for and who was Joel to deny that.

Joel pulls out quickly, rising on his knees as you push up to rest on your palms, his head hung back as he fucks himself into his hand harshly, a few short pumps and he’s pressing the aching tip of his cock over your tongue, spilling into your mouth with a deep growl, forced through clenched teeth, working himself through the aftershock as he squeezes out the last bit of cum he has to offer into your waiting mouth, forcing your mouth closed with his opposite hand and watching as you tilted your neck up and swallowed, tongue peeking out playfully as you show him your empty mouth.

You have half the mind to think he’s finished, but instead he’s swatting your thigh as he maneuvers your hips until you realize he’s silently asking you to turn over, quickly situating your ass in the air with his strong, domineering grip—burying his face into your cunt without a moment of hesitation, a gasp ripping from your throat. Your hips pull away instinctively out of shock, earning a sharp slap by Joel’s hand against your oversensitive cunt.

“Stay still.” Joel demands.

You answer softly, a pathetic acknowledgement and nod, obeying his order.

“Good girl,” He coos, muffled against your cunt, “Come for me, baby—you’re right there, I can feel it.”

There’s little resistance as his tongue swipes over your clit, sending you into a shorter but immensely more consuming second orgasm, feeling yourself lose consciousness for a brief moment as you sob into the sheets.

“Fuck.” Joel sighs as he rests back on his calves, cock softening between his thighs as you roll onto your back gingerly, thighs shaking from strain, feeling Joel’s comforting touch on the aching muscles as you close your eyes, letting the reality of the situation set in.

You laugh giddily, “Yeah, fuck.”

Neither of you address the glaring issue of what just took place and somehow, that feels like the biggest atrocity to be committed.

Secrets weren’t something you used to harbor, but it seemed like that was all you had now.

Sneaking off with Joel, lying to Sarah—it was the last thing you wanted to do. But, you and Joel had each other in an equally debilitating grip that neither of you could loosen up on.

And with secrets came gifts, more and more outrageous as time went on—big ticket items that had you fearing that, at some point, Joel would drop something like a new car on you—and that, for what it was worth, would help you. But, it was nothing you wanted.

Sex started to feel transactional after a few more weeks, graduation creeping on you.

Joel never lacked in care and attentiveness, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind, like you were this unattainable prize he was paying for and you were eating right out of the palm of his hand.

But, then graduation day approaches and Joel is acting odd.

So odd that it unsettles you. He’s there, along with his brother and his small family, cheering as loud for you as he does for Sarah, the obvious absence from your own family never lost on you or him. Then, night approaches.

He’d decided that throwing a party for the both of you in celebration was a good idea, just a small party with very few friends and he swore—swore that there was nothing else up his sleeve until he’s pulling you and Sarah off together, away from the party and there is a pair of matching, new cars parked in the driveway.

Sarah, given she already has everything she wants, is still thankful. It’s the one thing she had been trying to save up for herself, without the help of her dad. So, while she could be upset, she isn’t. She knows Joel’s intentions are good and that he’s just trying to be a good father—which is all he’s ever been for her.

But, for you, it stings.

You linger, settled a few feet away against his beater of a truck, staring at the car like it was an eyesore.

She doesn’t like it. She hates it, Joel thinks.

You thanked him regardless, but refused the keys. Joel had stuffed them into his pocket and allowed you the space you wanted, eyes pleading quietly. Sarah had hugged you gently, kind words left in your ear before she departed back inside.

“You’re like family,” She says with genuine love, “and he has more money than he knows what to do with—so honestly, just take it. You deserve it more than anyone.”

And that hurts worse, knowing that you’ve been lying to her for months.

You weren’t family. Not to Joel. You were something much more convoluted and dangerous.

A drug. A trap. Something he couldn’t rid himself of, not that he desired to. But, he knew—once you were embedded into his life, it would be nearly impossible to get you out.

–

Joel finds you a while later, away from the party and beyond eyesight from the house, curled up against the front end of the truck and picking away at some of the ripped denim of your jeans, counting the frayed pieces. He takes a similar position, sitting next to you silently.

“You don’t have to take it,” He tells you, “but, it is paid for—”

“Joel, please—”

“What?” Joel asks suddenly, his own annoyance getting the better of him, “What am I doing wrong?”

“Joel—we have sex, you buy me something ridiculous. Or, you buy me something ridiculous without my knowledge and then we end up having sex, how does that look to you?”

“Now, I’m not doing that because of sex—”

“But, you see how it looks? How it makes me feel?” You argue with him, “Joel, I can’t help how I feel about you, like—it feels physically impossible, but the constant gifts makes this seem transactional. I don’t want that. I’m already a secret, I don’t need to be bought either.”

Joel shakes his head in silent disbelief, “You really think that’s how I view you? That’s it?”

“You haven’t tried very hard to make me think otherwise, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “I don’t need you showering me with cars and clothes and shit that I don’t need—and if that’s what you feel like you need to do, I don’t want to do…whatever this is anymore.”

Fucking him, sneaking around in secret. You weren’t dating, but it sure fucking felt like it. One intimate moment from a love confession that would seal the deal on your perception of him.

Joel kicks at the gravel as he rises to his feet, pulling you up by your forearm, an immediate look of both confusion and frustration crossing your features as he turns you and presses your chest against the front of his truck, shadowed by the cover of night. His belt clanks together loudly as he undoes his jeans behind you, tucking them far down enough he can pull his cock from the confines of his underwear, lifting up the hem of your dress and yanking your own underwear down your legs and off, and you should stop him—but you don’t want to.

This was the problem. You couldn’t get enough of Joel.

He slips inside of you with ease, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest that he stifles with his hand, clasped over your mouth, fucking into you with a reverance that was new.

“Joel—we’refuck—we can’t here,” You try to say, yanking his hand away from your mouth, “we’ll get caught.”

Joel grips the base of your neck roughly, fingers curling around the sides as he tilts your head back and looks into your eyes, other hand coming around the bottom of your chin until you’re forced to look up and back at him, not a single speck of warm brown in sight. He looked angry.

But, it didn’t feel like it was directed toward you. Regardless, he fucked you like he was.

“I’ll return the fuckin’ car,” He starts to ramble, “I’ll return everything if that makes you think differently. God—” He snaps his hips harshly, earning a broken sob from you as you reach behind you blindly for something to anchor yourself on, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, “—never want you to think this is transactional, baby. It never—never was.”

Never would be, you want him to say.

“Whaddya want me to say?” Joel asks before you can speak, “That I care about you—baby, I fuckin’ do. I thought that was obvious. Know—know I shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, but I knew—”

You gasp raggedly, his hand leaving your chin to find your clit, just the right amount of pressure to have your hands clawing at his skin, head resting back against his shoulder as he fucked into you.

“And I’ll keep this a secret if—if it means I can have you but this isn’t transactional,” He continues to speak, despite your inability, tipping over the edge of your orgasm as his hips stutter slightly, “it never will be.”

That—that was what you needed to hear. Pulling him taut against you as he buried his mouth into the junction of your neck and nipped, biting at the skin roughly but not enough to break skin.

“Come inside me,” You gasp, chest rising and falling quickly, “please—Joel, please?”

“You like when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” Joel teases, “Never ask for anything but my cum—greedy girl,” You moan at his words, spurring him even further, “tell me baby, tell me how much you want it.”

“So bad,” You whine, “Joel, please give it to me—fuck—all of it, please?”

Joel snaps his hips a few more times before his hand is releasing your neck, crossing over your chest and squeezing tightly at your breast as he pulses inside of you, pumping his hips and filling you full of his spend.

Joel kisses at the exposed skin of your shoulder, pulling out with a soft grunt, the slow jingle of metal sounding behind you as you reached for the underwear he offered you, slipping it back up your legs and into place, despite how Joel’s cum dripped out of you, something he makes point of as his fingers drag along the material, causing you gasp softy at his touch, swatting his hand away. He chuckles lowly at the annoyed glare you shoot his way.

Joel shifts your hips until you turn in his grip, back pressing against cool metal. He crowds you in again, leaving you feeling breathless as he grips your face, but his touch is surprisingly tender.

“What do we say?” He says softly, lips pressing against your own.

“Thank you,” You retort sarcastically, capturing his lips in a quick, bruising kiss as you card your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, pulling gently, “this doesn’t change anything—I don’t want the car.”

“You don’t have to take it,” Joel settles, “but it’ll be here if you need it.”

You pull away further, looking at him endearingly, watching as his eyes flick briefly toward the house.

“What do we do–about this?” You ask quietly, afraid someone might be listening in despite being alone, “About…whatever this is.”

“Hey,” Joel assures gently, “don’t worry about that—not tonight.”

“Joel—” You plead, eyes searching desperately into his own.

“I care about you, that’s all you need to worry about.” Joel speaks truthfully, his thumb rubbing along the line of your jaw as you swallow, muscles tense under his touch.

And you’re wondering if he’s just saying what you want to her—that maybe this was still a game to him and he was letting you feed into it, nodding to his confession. Joel is all in, offering you his metaphorical hand.

You sigh shakily, “Okay—I trust you.” So please, don’t let me down.

And you know things will eventually implode, but you intend to hold on the brief moment of hope you have now, safe under his gaze as he leads you back to the house, everyone blissfully unaware of the moments you’ve shared, leaving you resigned to appreciate the greedy looks his shares with you across the room.

It was a dangerous game, but you were willing to take the risks.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #bfd!joel #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #my writing

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anger-sama · 4 months

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UNKNOWN HORROR Part 1 Made By Anger-Is-Flawed

So, Nightmare picked up horror for the first time and promised him all the food he could eat. Once Nightmare and Horror arrived at his castle, He met the other two that were going to be working with him. Dust and Killer were the same just like him but something was off about them. Nightmare introduced Horror to them and then guided him around the castle where Horror would be spending most of his time in. Horrors room was nothing special, just a simple bed and a couple wardrobes. Horror was only in it because he was promised food. He was planning to give it all towards his au, considering everyone was starving in there. It was all too much to think about so Horror just decided to sleep it off. After that, Horror started going on missions one after another non stop. At the end of each mission, Nightmare would bring up the topic of food and Horror would instantly deny and ask him to send it to his AU. Nightmare agrees and disappears to send it over. Killer and Dust would constantly make fun of horror for the large hole in his head. They also would come at him for his clothes, his one eye, and being weaker than them. Horror didn’t really care that much. All he cared about was sending the food he got from his missions to his starving AU. This kept going on for over 50 years. Constant abuse from those two and trusting Nightmare to keep his side of the deal. He even found a way to talk to Insanity. They looked down on both of them so they bonded on something. Throughout all those years Insanity actually started to trust Horror. At least he has one friend here. Horror thought everything was going well… Until one day he walked by the living room and heard Killer and Dust talking about his AU. He was listening in on what they were saying. “Can’t believe he is THAT dumb! Does he really think Boss cares about a little AU! Boss probably already destroyed it by now.” Killer said. “Probably, but you better keep your voice down before he hears you.” Dust said. “What’s the problem if he hears? He can’t really do anything. Boss would destroy him in seconds! We can deal with him too if it gets that intense.” Killer said. Horror couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His AU gone? He quickly and quietly made his way back to his room and shut his door as quietly as he could. Horrors mind started to race and then he finally broke. He decided to take out Nightmare for deceiving him for all these years. Nightmare is hard to kill, especially since he can detect emotions. If Horror decided to sneak up on Nightmare, He would die in seconds. All of them underestimated how smart he was because of the giant hole in his head. Maybe he can use that to his advantage. He decided to contact Dream and ask for help. Dream can also sense emotions but Horrors true intentions were overshadowed by his genuine need for help. Dream accepted and they both agreed to meet in a deserted snowdin.

Part 2

#Unknown Horror #horrortale sans #horror sans #utmv au #my ocs #lore dump #undertale au

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wintrwinchestr · 1 month

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strangers | part 1

summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 9.8k

a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 2

Ruby Carpenter.

You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.

Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.

It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?

Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.

Maybe you should do the same.

With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face.

She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.

It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.

—

You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door.

You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.

You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.

You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.

—

You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.

After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.

Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here.

“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.

“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”

“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Shit.

You take a guess.

“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.

“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”

You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.

“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.

You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”

The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”

“What do they have?” you challenge.

He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”

You don’t say anything.

Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”

You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat.

“All set?” the stranger asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again.

He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”

“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”

You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”

Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”

“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”

“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”

You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”

“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.

The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.

—

You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”

Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like.

You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.

“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.

“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”

Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”

He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”

Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No, it’s okay.”

Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”

Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.

“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.

“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.

“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.

“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”

“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”

“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”

“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.

“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”

—

Fuck.

Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.

“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”

That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.

You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.

“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”

Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression.

“Yeah, ‘spose it was.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”

You have a point.

He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”

You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”

“Tommy.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”

You laugh at that.

It makes Joel smile.

Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.

—

The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.

“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.

Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”

“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug.

The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you.

You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.

“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full.

She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.

There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.

Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”

“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.

He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.”

You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”

You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.

You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y��know, some underwear, and stuff.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”

You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.

Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial.

Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing.

He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.

“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”

“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”

Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.

“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”

You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”

He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.

Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”

You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today.

Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.

For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.

Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?

The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.

You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.

You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.

—

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.

He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits.

You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.

You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…

But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother.

That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.

He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.

“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down.

When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why.

But Joel will always know.

—

The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night.

It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened.

Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.

“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”

“What makes you say that, baby?”

You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”

Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good.”

Maybe it had just been a dream, then.

Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.

He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples.

“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items.

You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.

But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.

“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?”

“Whaddya mean, baby?”

“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”

Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.

You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”

“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.

You pause. “Okay, so—”

“You ever been to California?”

His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”

“You want to?”

You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”

“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”

You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”

“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.

“Like, today? Are you sure?”

“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”

You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of.

“Okay,” you agree excitedly.

Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay.

“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you.

You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.

“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”

Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.

And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader

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Text

The One (1)

Pairing: Mafia! Lee Know x Reader

Warning: Kidnapping, Mentions of Blood, Weapons, Launguage, and Smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOY INTERACT]

Word Count: 15.6k

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited

@silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz @ayyonoona

@31maze13

Fuck, you were tired.

You knew that going out the night before you had to work was a bad idea, but you have always loved a good bad idea, and you only live once so what the hell. You and a friend had gone to check out a club you'd heard a lot about but had yet to experience, and when you tell people you had the best time, you fucking meant it. The vibes in that place were immaculate, the drinks were strong and flowing steadily, not to mention the music they played were all the most perfect songs for dancing and grinding. You'd never had so much fun out, which is why by the time you looked at a clock, you realized it was 6am, and you had to work a double shift in 6 hours. But by the time you had gotten home, showered, ate and crawled into bed, you had to be up in 4.5 hours, and you just knew you were going to die of exhaustion today. And you were right. The day went by so slowly and the bar fluctuated in busy times, leaving you energized but also so exhausted.

Finally, you hit the last five hours of work but you knew that it would go by the slowest. It was only 10pm, and all you could focus on was the dull hum of the shitty music that played through the almost broken overhead speakers. The smell of beer and bleach surrounded you, although the smell gave you a headache it also was a sense of comfort, you were too used to it now.

You stood up, trying to shake the tiredness off, if you stood around any longer you were definitely going to fall asleep on the bar. You had been fine earlier, when it was actually busy but after the mid evening rush, you had only gotten one table, and they weren't pleasant. You walked over to the couple that had sat in the very back of the bar to ask if they needed anything else.

“No.” the woman spat, glaring at you before turning back to the man she was with. You say nothing more, instead walk back towards the bar to find something, anything to do. Instead of doing anything, you stood behind the bar staring at the clock. Maybe if you stared at it, then time would speed up.

It didn't.

You’d never seen time move so slowly until tonight. It was a Sunday, the one night of the week that you technically weren’t scheduled to work. However, you decided to be a nice person and take the shift from your co-worker, who was the girl who also shared the same name as you. She tried to explain to you why she couldn't work but honestly you didn't care enough to listen to Y/N 2.0's reasoning for needing it covered. You figured it was for some shady reason that she would try to cover up with something not so shady. You knew that because she was shady. She constantly had questionable people hanging out in the bar, they were always whispering while their eyes darted around the place, they were so paranoid and it weirded you out but she was kinda nice and did the bare minimum of her job, so you didn't care too much. You're brought out of your thoughts a few minutes later when the man comes up to pay his tab, while also whispering a slight apology for the woman he was with.

“No worries, you two have a great night.” you smile. The woman scoffs at you as she grabs the sleeve of the man, yanking him out of the bar. You just shook your head, you didn’t want her man, you just wanted your bed. You wanted to cry, you could hear your bed calling your name. Why the fuck was a bar even open until 3am on a Sunday? You cleaned off the table, looking around the empty establishment and heavily debated on closing early. It was now 10:45pm, and you still had just over four hours until you were done but you weren't waiting that long. There's no way.

12:00am. You’d give it a little over an hour and if no one showed up in that amount of time, you were going to close. You’d happily take the anger from your boss if it meant you could get out of this hellhole at a decent time. You went to the back office and told Gary that you were going to close early if no one showed up. He just grunted at you, he didn’t care. He was just there to do the cashout and go home, he wanted nothing else to do with anyone or anything.

You did all your closing things, sweeping and mopping the floors, washing the dishes, cleaning everything for the next person to open in the morning.

11:58 pm, you anxiously watched the clock. There was still no one there.

11:59pm you walked to the door. You were just about to lock it when it was pushed open, and 3 men casually walked in, grins on their faces.

You immediately felt uneasy.

"You're still open right?" One of the men asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I was about to close." You admit.

"The sign says you’re open until 3am though." One says, raising his eyebrow and glancing at the clock. “It’s only 12:01am.”

"It’s been extremely slow, so I was going to close.” you say. “But you’re here, so we're open." You say through gritted teeth, forcing a smile.

You had been so looking forward to crawling into your bed.

"What can I get you?" You ask, hoping it would be a beer each and then they would leave. Maybe they would sense your exhaustion and take pity on you.

"3 shots of tequila, and 3 whiskey and cokes." One man says.

“OKay.” you smile, heading back to the bar to make the drinks. As you're pouring their drinks you glance up, glancing at them and notice they are watching you. You couldn't help it, you had a horrible feeling in your stomach, and the vibes they had, they weren't good.

You brought their drinks over to the table, trying to hide your nervousness. You set each drink down with a shaky hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself.

"So, what’s your name, beautiful?" One man asks before taking his shot.

"Really Felix?" Another chuckle.

"Don’t act like you don’t want to know either, Hyunjin." The other laughs.

"I know I do." The last man smirks.

"So there, all three of us want to know." One smiles.

You stand there, debating. Do you give them your real name or do you make a name up? They stared at you, waiting for you to say something.

"Um, it’s Y/N." You say.

"Well!” one of them exclaims. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He smirks. You give him an awkward half smile before walking away, but not before you hear the one named Felix whisper "It's her."

After you had served their drinks and checked on them again, you went to the back off, just to warn Gary. the feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away and you wanted him to be aware.

“Hey Gary, there's some shady men in here, I don't like their vibes so if I scream, please come help me.” you whisper, looking behind you to make sure one of them wasn't standing there.

“Sure, maybe.” Gary says, not looking at you.

If anything happened, you were totally on your own.

Around 2:30 am, you asked if they needed anything else, especially considering none of them ordered anything else, and sat there staring at you for the last 2.5 hours.

"Just the bill please, Y/N." Hyunjin smiles, pulling out his wallet.

You print off the bill, and gently place it on the table before walking away. You finished cleaning the glasses from their table as Hyunjin tosses some money on the table. You went to the back to put the glasses away and by the time you were back up front, they were gone, and there was a $100 bill left for the $30 bill.

At least you got a little something tonight.

You squeezed your eyes shut as a large yawn took over. You were finishing up the last of the organizing before you were finally done. Your feet felt heavy, they dragged as you walked around switching off the lights. Your body became more tired as you gathered your belongings before walking out the back door.

The crisp cool air hits your face as you leave the building, closing the door to lock it. The city is quiet, all you can hear is the gentle breeze of the wind along with faint sounds of the booming nightlife from the downtown area. there was always something going on down there, where you worked though, not many people wanted to go there late at night.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, you began your walk home. You always preferred walking as opposed to wasting money on a cab, especially since you didn't live very far from the bar. You never had an issue on your way home in the past, so you never thought that tonight would be any different. If anything, you’d encounter someone who cat-called you but never did anything else. It wasn’t the safest neighborhood but nothing bad had ever happened to you.

However, tonight, you couldn’t shake that bad feeling. You had thought when the men left and you were headed home that you would feel even the slightest bit better, but if anything, you felt worse. It was like your body was screaming at you that something was going to happen. You continued on your way, keeping your head down, only glancing up to see where you were going, but you could hear the footsteps behind you. You tried to keep your pace and whoever it was was staying steadily behind you. When you slowed down, you could hear them slowing down. As you picked up your pace again, you could hear them speeding up. You held onto yourself a little tighter, taking deep breaths, trying to ease the hard knot in your stomach. You muttered to yourself, telling yourself that everything would be okay and you were almost home.

Your pace increases and you breathe a little easier as your apartment building comes into view, until the sound of footsteps behind you quicken, becoming louder and faster. Your breathing becomes heavier as you run to the stairs of the front door, your hand almost latches to the railing, just before you could pull yourself up the stairs, you feel something grab onto the back of your jacket, pulling you backwards. Your stomach dropped as your eyes shut, bracing for the impact of the concrete, but instead you met with a hard chest and arms wrapping around your body.

"Oh sweet, Y/N. Our boss will be so happy we found you. He’s been trying to get a hold of you, you know. He wants his money." the voice says, it sounds familiar.

You open your eyes wide. "What? What boss? What money?" You ask, panicking. You open your eyes and immediately recognize the men, the same ones who were in the bar earlier. You try to get up so you can run away but his grip is too tight.

"Don't play fucking stupid. We know it’s you, it won’t work. Let's go." The one whose name you hadn't heard snaps, grabbing your arm tightly, yanking you with him.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about" you scream, trying to fight off his grip.

"Don't play stupid Y/N. We got your place of employment and your hours. Stop trying to act like you don't know you owe Lee Know $700k." Hyunjin says.

What? Who the fuck was Lee Know? The most you owed was $67 to your cable company. You didn’t know what to do, he was dragging you towards a van.

Scream Y/N, scream!

“Help! Someone please help me!” you scream as loud as you can. “Changbin, shut her up!” Felix spits.

Changbin slaps his other hand over your mouth, trying to quiet you down. You bite his hand, he yelps, shoving you down to the ground. You smack your head on the hard concrete, almost knocking you out. You quickly try to scramble to your feet, you need to run away, go anywhere away from here. You're caught by your ponytail by Hyunjin, he yanks you down to the ground, pinning you down with his body.

“Stop fucking fighting, you can’t get out of this.” he snaps, pulling you up and shoving you into the van.

“It’s not me,” you cry as you lay on the floor of the van, your head throbbing.

The whole time you were in the van, you tried to tell them they had the wrong person, and you couldn’t understand why they didn’t believe you. You had no idea who Lee Know was, what money they were talking about and why they thought that it was you who had it.

As you try to plead with them again, as the van abruptly stops, the door slides open and a bag is placed over your head. You tried to fight them off, to run away, to get your arms free. You tried digging your feet into the ground but nothing you did worked. The only thing it got you was a tighter grip, fingers digging into your skin, you knew there were going to be bruises left on you.

The three men drag you inside a building but you never stop trying to fight them off. "You've got the wrong person, I'm telling you." You plead.

"Shut the fuck up." Changbin snaps. Forcing you down onto your knees. "Felix, go tell him that we have her."

You hear the footsteps moving away from you, you assumed it was Felix going to do what Changbin told him to do. You hope they get hell when they find out you’re not who they’re looking for. Your stomach twists and turns, the anxiety is beginning to eat you alive, the unknown is terrifying.

What was going to happen to you?

Seconds later you're pulled up to your feet and forced to walk forward. "Get in there." Changbin snaps, shoving you through a door, you lose your balance, falling to the floor. Someone yanks your arm, helping you up to your knees only.

"Here you go boss. Here’s Y/N." Felix says, pulling the bag from your head.

The chair behind the desk turns around, all you can see is the silhouette of a body sitting in the chair. The light behind him shone on his face, covering it. You jumped when he spoke, his voice was deep, yet smooth like velvet.

"You're kidding me, right?" He asks. You can tell he was pissed by his voice.

"No, you asked for her. Here she is" Changbin says.

"I did ask for Y/N, but that's not her." He says.

"What?" The three men say, looking at each other.

"I said, that's not fucking her." He says again, his voice getting increasingly angrier.

"Y/N from Spuds, this is her Minho!" Felix panics. ”She served us there, she said her name was Y/N!”

"There's another Y/N that works there." You whisper, keeping your head down.

"So now we have two problems." Minho snaps. "First, the girl you're supposed to get is out there, who fucking knows where, with my fucking money." He yells. "Second problem, we have a beautiful girl here who now knows a little too fucking much.” he pauses.

“So boys, what do you expect me to do about it? Do I kill her because you're all fucking morons, or let her go?” Minho asks, crossing his arms.

You were feeling brave, and honestly you had nothing to lose. Minimal friends, no good family, so if speaking up got you killed then so be it.

"I mean.” You start, looking around the room. “I personally, I think you should let me go. I work in a shitty bar at a shitty wage. So really, I'm in no position to be telling anyone about anything." You tell him, hoping that he'll see you're anything but a threat to him.

"You're fucking delusional if you think the boss will just let you.." Felix begins before being interrupted by Minho.

"She can go.” He says, standing up. “But I have conditions.” He grins. He comes out of the light and you feel like you can't breathe. He's drop dead gorgeous. He's the type of man that you would do anything he asked, just because he asked. He squats down, his face inches from yours. “First thing, if you say anything to anyone, I will find out and I will kill you.” He smiles.

Fuck. Even more gorgeous.

“And the second thing?” you ask, trying to avoid eye contact. You didn't want to set him off by looking into his eyes.

“That's really my only condition.” He whispers, grabbing your chin to look at him. “But remember, I'll be watching you." He smirks.

He helps you up, nodding his head towards the door. ”Go. Before I decide to keep you here for myself.”

"Thank you." You whisper before quickly walking towards the double doors, as you hear some punches and yelling.

You run outside, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Do you go left? Right? Straight? How the fuck were you supposed to get home? you turn around, seeing another man standing there, one you haven't met yet.

“I'm Seungmin. I'll drive you home.” he says, motioning to a car parked on the driveway. You reluctantly get into the passenger seat of the car. Neither of you spoke the entire drive, you didn't even have to tell him your address because he already knew where to go. That was fucking creepy but you were just thankful that you were being let go from such a terrifying situation. Seungmin dropped you off, without a word and drove off as soon as you were out of the car. You went to your apartment, took off your shoes and collapsed in your bed. You were even more fucking exhausted.

Over the next few days, you heard nothing from Minho or any of his guys. You had called in sick the Monday night after the incident, but Tuesday you dragged yourself to work as usual. Your usual routine of getting home late, sleeping late and puttering around until your next shift.

You kinda wished you had seen Minho again, but also not. He was so fucking handsome but you also knew he was a very dangerous man, and that was terrified you.

As the days went on, you'd notice someone on the other side of the street walking sort of behind you until you reached your apartment, different things that were making you feel like you were being watched.

Thursday night rolled around and It was unusually busy for a Thursday. It didn't help that the other girl you were supposed to work with didn't show up and no one you called would come in to help, so you were alone.

And you were slammed.

You were doing your very best to be quick with taking orders, making the drinks, serving drinks, cleaning and clearing tables. It was a lot and you were only one person.

Almost everyone was understanding, except the one table of piss drunk men who were getting more annoyed by the minute. You had been ignoring them as they catcalled you and then yelled at you for not refilling their beers. So you were gonna make them wait.

"Hey! Where the fuck are our beers!?" One of the men hollers at you, laughing with his friends. ”We're fucking thirsty over here.”

You ignore him. You'd told him you would get to him when it was his turn before you started ignoring him, and currently, it wasn't his turn.

"I said we want our fucking beers." He yelled again, abruptly standing from his chair causing it to fall back.

You were going to rage. You put your empty tray on the bar, glaring at the man.

"And I told you, you'll fucking get them when it's your turn. I'm by myself here. I'm trying my best! Have some fucking patience." You snap before putting in the next order of drinks.

"Fuck it." The man spits. "I'll do it myself." He says, moving from his table to walking towards the back of the bar. His friends try to stop him but he's at the point of not listening to reason.

"No you won't." You say, moving to block the entrance behind the bar. "You can't go back there." You tell him.

"I can do whatever the fuck a want." He whispers, his face moving closer to yours. You try to stand your ground, but he's so much bigger than you are, he easily pushes you back until you're trapped against the wall. "And you can't do shit about it." He chuckles, leaning in closer to you. “You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He whispers. You can smell the alcohol and cigarettes on your breath.

You wished someone would come help, but his friends seem useless. They won't even try to control their friend. You need to get yourself out of this situation.

"Get off me." You say, trying to push him away but it was like his feet were cemented to the ground.

"Like I said, I can do whatever I want." He laughs.

“Please just get off me.” You say, you can feel the tears starting as he caresses your face.

"I think she told you to get off her." You hear from behind the man, you faintly recognize the voice.

He turns around, and you try to get away from him, but he holds you in place. You manage to sneak a peek, and you see Minho with Changbin and another man you didn't recognize.

"And who the fuck are you." The man laughs. He looks for his friends, they sit at the table watching.

Minho chuckles. "I’m a.. friend, if you will.” He says, his face stone cold. “She's mine, and I don't like when people touch what's mine." He says, cocking his head to the side.

"And what are you going to do about it?" The man asks, turning around to grab your arm.

Minho sighs, as he makes his way towards you and the man, pulling him off of you and throwing him to the ground. He places his foot on the man's neck, chuckling as he watches the man begin to panic.

“Chan, get his wallet.” Minho says. Chan digs in the man's jacket, grabbing the wallet and handing it to Minho.

"This is what I'm going to do about it..Brian." He says, looking at his license. "Have you ever heard of SKZ, Brian?"

The man gargles a small yes.

"That's mine too. Now, I don't like you, Brian. You don't listen. And I usually just kill what I don't like. Do you understand me Brian?" He asks.

The man barely nods.

"Good. Now you apologize to her, pay your tab with a hefty tip and fucking pray I never see you again, because if I do, I will fucking kill you." Minho finishes, picking the man up by his collar.

Minho and his two men sit down at a table and watch the men scramble to give you everything they had in their wallets and pockets, leaving you with a large tip and a smile on your face.

"Thank you." You say, standing at the table Minho and his men sat at. ”Really. I didn't know what I was going to do.”

"It's lucky I just happened to be in the area.” He says. "Although, I have to ask. How often does that happen?"

"I work like 6 days a week.. and people get drunk everyday.. and men get rowdy often.. so like 4 or 5 days a week." You say, shrugging your shoulders.

He laughs.

You wished you were joking.

"That's not going to do. I'll have Jeongin start doing security here." He says.

"We really can't pay for security, our boss is cheap." You murmur, waving him off.

"Don't worry about it." He half smiles.

"Look, I gotta get back to work, finish cleaning up for the night but.. is there a way I can repay you for tonight and I guess not murdering me last week?" You ask.

You've always been one to repay favors no matter who it was. It's just what you do. Although you weren't sure if you should repay him, you felt like you should.

"Actually.” He grins. “There is. I need you to be my date this weekend to a club opening, your co-worker, the other Y/N will be there." He says.

“Okay.. and what can I do for you there?” You ask.

"What you can do is bring her to me."

"I.. uhh.." you didn't want to be responsible for her getting killed.

"I need to talk to her. That's all." He assures you. You bite your lip as a swarm of thoughts flash through your head. You wanted to repay him, and this seemed easy enough.

"Okay.” You sigh. “I'll do it. What day? What club? And time? I'll meet you there." You say.

Minho smirks. "No, darling." He pauses, adjusting his jacket. "I'll send a car to pick you up and get you ready. See you Friday at 2pm." He says, giving you a small wink before walking out of the bar, leaving his two men behind.

"Are you guys not going?" You ask.

"Boss told us to stay and help out." Changbin says.

"You guys really don't have too.." You begin to say.

"Boss said we have too. We're at your disposal." Chan smiles.

How could you say no to that? If it hadn't been for Changbin and Chan, it would have taken you forever to clean up, kick everyone out and restock for your next shift. You were very grateful to Minho, which also had you thinking a bit.. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. Yes, he was in the Mafia, a leader at that, but he was sweet, to you at least. And you couldn't lie that he was the exact type of fucked up you usually went for.

You weren't completely opposed to the idea of being with him, even if it was for one night. However, you didn't think the life he led was meant for you.

The next day you met Jeongin. He was thin and attractive, but had this aura about him that was terrifying. His first night there, no one thought much of him. So when someone grabbed your ass and wouldn't leave you alone, Jeongin was right there with a sinister smile while he absolutely mangled the man.

No one fucked around after that. Word had gotten around about the new security and almost no one wanted to test him. There were a few drunk frat guys who thought one of them should test it out, wondering if it was a fluke but ultimately they all pussied out, no wanting to risk any harm to their faces.

You thought it was nice having Jeongin there, although you got weird vibes from him on occasion. You'd catch him staring at you, with a blank but thoughtful look on his face. Sometimes he stood a little too close before apologizing and going back to the door. You shrugged it off, but kept a note of it in the back of your head.

When Friday rolled around, you waited outside your shitty apartment for Minho, although you should have known better that he wouldn't be coming himself, and instead sending someone to get you.

"He had a meeting." Chan tells you as you get into the expensive car before peeling away to the mansion that awaited you.

Four long and excruciating hours later, you were ready to be his date. Your hair had been left down, while your face was full of makeup. A smokey eye with winged liner, along with red lips painted on your face. You couldn't deny that you looked hot, even more so when you squeezed yourself into the tight black strapless dress, paired with a pair of black Louis Vuitton shoes with red bottoms.

You were nervous to walk down the flight of stairs, not only because of Minho, but also because you, stairs and heels weren't really the greatest thrupple. One of you was always embarrassed, and it was always you.

"Hold tightly." The stylist tells you, placing your hand on the railing before you go downstairs.

You took your time, trying to hold your head high while watching your step. You weren't of use to anyone if you fell and broke your ankle, or neck.

"You look stunning." Minho tells you, with a slight smile, offering you his arm. Without hesitation you take it, allowing him to lead you to the garage where he even opened your car door.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, as the two of you pull up to the club.

"A little." You admit.

"Find her, tell her you know someone in VIP and bring her up to me. Changbin and Hyunjin are working the VIP door so they already know you." Minho says.

It didn't sound bad. You could do that. "And when you're done, go to the bar and drink to your little heart's desires. Tell Jisung to put it under my tab and he will. I'll come down and meet you when I'm finished."

"Okay. I can do that. Easy enough." You nervously chuckle. "Easy peasy." You breathe.

"You go in. Tell the bouncer that Minho said to let you in." He tells you.

You nod your head and get out of the car. You're a little down the block from the club, couldn't risk having the other Y/N see you and Minho together, it might ruin the plan.

You walk for a few minutes, cutting the long line of at least 100 people and heading up straight to the bouncer.

"Minho said to let me in." You whisper in his ear. The man steps back, his eyes wide.

"Yes ma'am, please go in." He tells you, pulling back the rope immediately while everyone else gets mad, asking why you were so special. You really had to admit, that was an amazing feeling. The feeling of people doing what you ask just because of a name was such an adrenaline rush. You loved it.

Once inside, you headed straight to the bar before trying to find the other Y/N. As you walked in you noticed the music was loud, and the bass went hard but it wasn't overpowering. The air wasn't hot and sweaty like most clubs, so far you were impressed, but that's not why you were here. You needed to remember that you had a specific reason you were here for and you needed to stick to it, but first, You felt like you needed a little bit of liquid courage.

Walking up to the bar, you find a small open space. Giving it your best shot, you yell for 'Jisung' hoping someone would turn around, and they did. Another extremely handsome man. What the fuck was in the water here?

"How can I help you?" Jisung asks, ignoring the others trying to get his attention.

"I'd like a double vodka lemonade." You smile. "And I'm supposed to tell you to put it on Minho’s tab." You say.

He smiles as he nods his head and leaves to make your drink. You sit on a stool facing the dance floor, keeping your eyes open for Y/N. You wanted to get this done as soon as possible but you hadn't seen her yet.

An hour and 4 vodka lemonades later, you finally see her, dancing her little heart out on the dance floor, acting like she didn't just about get you killed a week ago. You grin as you slide off your chair, partially dancing while you walk towards her.

"Hey girl." You laugh, putting on a friendly face as you approach her.

"Hey! Oh my god, What are you doing here!?" She squeals, pulling you in for a hug.

"I'm here with some friends up in VIP! Come, let's get a drink." You offer, hoping she takes the bait.

"Oh my god! Yes please! Let's go!" She laughs, grabbing onto your hand.

Hook, line and sinker.

You hold her hand tightly as you walk up the stairs. You see Hyunjin standing there, looking surprised that you actually found her.

"VIP?" He asks.

You nod your head. He walks to the nearest door, pointing to it for you two. You drunkenly pull Y/N inside with you, where to her surprise there are no other people or drinks.

There's a desk, a large window and a few couches. The chair behind the desk turns, revealing a pleased looking Minho. "Ah, that's my girl. Great work. Thank you baby." He smiles.

You feel the blush on your cheeks spreading. "You can go now." He smiles, shooing you from the room.

"Now, Y/N.." you hear as the door closes.

"Please.." you hear her say.

Your stomach is in knots as you think about what could possibly be happening in there with her and Minho. Changbin seems to notice your hesitancy to leave. He slips an arm around your shoulders. "He doesn't hurt women. Don't worry." He smiles, easing your concerns. You headed back down to the main area, making your way back over to Jisung to get another drink. You sipped as you sat at the bar, watching the stairs for her.

You felt as though you could breathe when you saw her walking down the stairs, body fully intact and leaving the club. Now you can enjoy yourself, finally.

"Two more shots please, Jisung." You laugh at the cute bartender.

Without hesitation Jisung hands over your shots, which you take with ease before heading to the dance floor now, with nothing weighing on your mind. You felt a pair of hands slide along your hips with a body pressed up against yours. When you look back you're met with a face you do not recognize, but in that moment, you don't care.

As you continue dancing with the man, your eyes wander around the club, and that's when you notice him.

Minho.

His eyes followed you like a puppy as you danced with the man. You watched as Minho watched the man's hands travel down your backside, squeezing your ass. He watches the man nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

Your stomach twisted and turned as you tried to read Minho's eyes but his face gave away nothing. He remained just as stone cold as before.

When the song ended, you tore your eyes away from Minho to thank the man for the dance, telling him you needed to go now but before you could finish Minho stood beside you, smirking at the man.

"Hi." He says to you and the man.

"Can I help you dude?" The man asks Minho, grabbing onto your hand.

"No, you can't help me, but I think I can help you." Minho chuckles. "I don't like when people think they can touch what's mine." He snaps, looking at the man's hand holding yours. "So I can help you let go, and help you get the fuck out of my club." He finishes.

Minho snaps his fingers and out comes two other men you hadn't seen before. They asked no questions before grabbing the man you had been dancing with and dragging him away without a care. The man had been pleading to be let go but they did not care.

"Dance with me?" Minho asks.

You nod your head.

He turns you around, your back flush against him as he wraps his arms around your waist, swaying you both to the beat of the music.

"What do I have to do to get you into my bed tonight?" He whispers in your ear.

A small smirk spreads across your face. "Keep going. You're on the right track."

After a few dances with Minho, Felix approaches him, whispering something in his ear that made his brows furrow, and his face instantly twisted in annoyance.

"I have something to deal with. I'll be back." He whispers in your ear, murmuring an apology before walking away with Felix, leaving you on the dance floor, alone.

Instead of standing there, you made your way back to the bar, ordering a couple more shots from Jisung, taking them instantly. It didn't take long for those to kick in and kick out your ability to make good choices. You were already drunk prior to the shots, but these just took it to a whole nother level.

You made a poor decision to leave the bar, stumbling outside, dragging your feet down the street, unsure of where you were, or even where you were planning on going.

"Hey there pretty lady." A man yells from behind you. You turn around, seeing him walking away from his group of friends and coming towards you. "Need some help?" He asks, turning around to wink to his friends.

"I'm fine." You slur, trying to move past him and continue walking on your route.

His hands grip your arms, keeping you in front of him as your head dangles down, your hair in front of your face.

"I think I'll take you home. Take care of you." He says, thrusting his hips towards you as his friends all laugh. "Give you something good for that hangover.” He laughs.

"I think you won't." You hear from behind you, a voice you recognize which makes you perk up immediately.

"And who are you?" The man asks.

"He's a man who wants to be my man… I think." You mumble, snickering to yourself.

Minho chuckles. "Baby, why did you leave?"

You try to spin around, but the man's hands are still latched to your arms, holding you in place.

"Let me go." You say, trying to rip your arm out of his grasp, but he doesn't budge. "I said let me go."

"I don't know. I don't trust this man." The stranger murmurs. "You're coming with me."

"Probably shouldn't trust him. He's terrifying but he will kill you if you don't let go of me. He doesn't like when people touch what's his." You mumble, looking up at the man with a semi serious face.

"She's not wrong." Minho snaps.

"I thought you weren't her man." He scoffs.

"I will be, but regardless if I am or not, I'll still protect her from pieces of shit, such as yourself. So let her go before I make you regret touching her and making inappropriate comments in the first place." Minho snaps.

His patience was wearing thin, and even drunk you could tell.

"I don't think I'll regret shit." The man laughs, with his friends. You weren't sure who this man thought he was, you had no idea who he was or why he was fighting Minho for you, but you currently wished Minho would just take you away from the creep. The situation was not sobering you up.

"Now I'm fucking tired of you." Minho snaps. He grabs your upper arm, yanking you away from the man who stands there confused on what happened. He pulls you behind him before his fist connects with the man's face, dropping him in an instant. "Have any of you heard of SKZ?" He asks the man's friends.

They all immediately begin nodding their heads yes, stuttering they didn't know.

"She's with them, don't fuck with her." Minho warns the group, looking down at their unconscious friend. He gives him one swift kick in the stomach to the man before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and heading back towards the club.

"You can take me home now." You giggle. You can't see it but a small smirk spreads across Minho's face.

"And what would you like to do there?" He asks, his voice low as he carries you down the street.

"You." You giggle.

Just as Minho walks up to the front door, he sets you down, grabbing your hand before you hear the first gunshot.

Instinctively, Minho pulls you to the ground, covering you with his body as bullets fly through the air for what seems like forever. You were too panicked to notice the feeling of warm liquid trickle onto your body as the weight of Minho's body squishes you.

After what felt like forever,, the bullets stop, Minho stands up, pulling you up after. "Oh my god. You were shot." You gasp, looking at his shoulder.

"Shit. I'm fine." He hisses. "We need to get you somewhere safe. Now." He says.

"Minho!" You are here from behind you. Turning around you see Jeongin standing in front of an open car door, ushering Minho inside. He grabs your hand, pulling you to the car, pushing you inside before sliding in beside you.

Jeongin gets in the driver's seat, making a call as he puts the car in drive, taking off.

"Yeah I've got him. Bullet to the shoulder." Jeongin says.

"Tell everyone to meet in my office asap." Minho grunts, sliding his injured arm from his suit jacket.

"Pressure.. you need to put pressure." You stutter, looking for anything to use. You pick up his suit jacket, murmuring a small apology before pressing it to his wound, causing him to hiss. "Can we go to a hospital please." You ask Jeongin whose eyes really haven't left you, you notice he has been watching you off and on through the mirror.

"Chan has medical training. It's fine." Minho tells you. You're not so convinced that's a good idea but you know you can't do anything to change his mind.

You pull up to the house, Jeongin out first to help Minho out before you follow behind them both. "Chan, get your med bag." Jeongin yells, bringing Minho to his office.

"Upstairs. First door on the right is my room. Take a shower, get cleaned up, help yourself to whatever. I'll be up soon." Minho tells you, walking into his office that's littered with his men.

"Find who did this." He spits as the door closes, leaving you alone.

You wander around Minho's room, looking at the paintings, and awkwardly grabbing a shirt from his drawer, before entering his grand bathroom.

You turn on the shower, shimming out of the tight dress you were wearing that was soaked in blood. You step inside, the hot water feels great on your cold skin. You watched as the blood water went down the drain, making it seem as though it never really happened. But the moment replayed through your head like a movie as you scrubbed yourself clean.

You washed your hair using Minho's shampoo, enjoying smelling like him. After soaking for a bit you got out, drying yourself off before slipping into his shirt and leaving the bathroom.

You were surprised to see Minho sitting on his bed, his shoulder banaged, his toned, muscular stomach in full view.

"Are you okay?" You ask, walking over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

"Are you okay?" He asks you instead of answering your question.

"I'm fine." You smile.

"Mhm. You look good in my shirt." He smiles, licking his lips. "I think I remember you saying something about you wanting to do me?"

"That was before you got shot." You pout.

"I'm all good, baby girl. You can ride me no problem." He whispers.

You look down at his crotch, his cock growing harder by the second. You bite your lip, contemplating if you should really do this, considering he had just been shot.

You stand up, facing him with a smile on your face.

"Shirt on or off?" You ask him, cocking your head to the side, playing with the hem of his shirt.

"On. I want to see you ride me while wearing it. " he whispers.

You crawl back on the bed, pulling down his sweatpants, while he helps you the best he can, bucking his hips. Minho's cock springs free, pre cum leaking from his red tip, down his large, thick shaft.

On your hands and knees, you begin to kitten lick his tip, before taking what you can in your mouth. Minho moans loudly as you hollow out your cheeks, forcing his cock down your throat, making you gag.

"Shit." He moans, throwing his head back, as he bucks his hips.

You pull him from your mouth, taking a breath before you softing continue sucking his cock. He bucks his hips again, forcefully shoving himself down your throat, causing tears to well in your eyes.

"Sit on my cock." He demands. You let go of his cock with a pop, crawling up to straddle him. You slightly lift up the shirt you were wearing, holding onto his cock as you line your pussy up. Sitting down, you slowly sink down onto him, as he stretches you out while filling you up completely.

"Fuck. So tight." He groans.

With one hand on your hip he begins helping you rock back and forth, grinding yourself on him. A few minutes later, you discard his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you as you begin to bounce on him, slowly lifting yourself up before pounding down onto him. Minho bucks his hips again and again as you go back down.

You grind your pussy on him, your clit perfectly rubbing against him. Minho reaches up, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers as you cup your other breast, the sound of fucking and moans fill the room.

"I'm.. i'm going to.. fucking cum." You cry out, your orgasm finally reaching its peak as it explodes through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to slow down your movement as you rode through your high but Minho doesn't let you. He snaps his hips, fucking you from below as he chases his own high, seconds later spilling himself into you, coating your walls with his cum.

The two of you stay still for a minute, catching your breath until you notice Minho's wound bleeding through the bandages.

"Let me get something." You say, climbing off of him, putting his shirt back on before running to the bathroom for a cloth.

Just as you enter the bathroom, Minho's bedroom door swings open.

"Sorry to bother you…but we found out who ordered the attack." Hyunjin says.

"Who." Minho asks.

"It was Mingi and his men, from Ateez." Hyunjin explains.

Mingi? As in Song Mingi? Why was your ex boyfriend ordering attacks?

"Mingi?" You laugh. "Song Mingi? No, there's no way. Why would he? No, you've got the wrong guy." You say, waving Hyunjin off.

"Do you know him?" Minho asks.

"We dated for 2 years." You admit. "I know him pretty well and I think I would know if he was into this kinda stuff." You say, twirling your finger around, pointing at them.

"She's a fucking spy." Hyunjin yells, charging for you. His forearm presses against your neck as he shoves you into the wall, pinning you there. You panic, looking at Minho who now just looks confused.

"Let her go." Minho says calmly.

Hyunjin doesn't move.

"I fucking said let her go." He yells, prompting Hyunjin to back away from you. "Get the fuck out. I'll handle this." He finishes.

You watch as Hyunjin leaves his room leaving you alone with Minho.

Your eyes are wide as you stand against the wall, struggling to catch your breath. Minho slowly strolls towards you, his wound seeping blood through the bandages.

He puts one hand out, pressing it against the wall as he leans in closely, whispering in your ear. "You better tell me right now if you're fucking working for them, and if you are, you better beg for your fucking life."

"I-I'm not." You stutter. "I didn't know anything about it." You cry.

Minho pushes himself back, turning to the door and walking away. "If I find out differently, you're dead." He finishes, leaving the room. You slide down the wall, breathing heavily as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened.

Later that day, Minho stands in his office, his head hanging down with his hand in his pocket as his men wait for him to say something. His shoulder throbbed and this entire situation was pissing him the fuck off.

"Hyunjin." He begins. "If you put your hands on her again, I'll kill you myself. Clear?" He asks.

"She's a fucking spy!" Hyunjin retorts, frustrated that no one believes him.

"How dare you accuse her of that." Jeongin pipes up. "She said she didn't know about him, so that means she didn't fucking know. Drop it." He grits, his pissed off facial expression barely moving.

"Seungmin, Felix, find out as much as you can about the relationship between the two of them." Minho orders.

The two head out as Minho dismisses the rest, except one. "Hyunjin." He starts. "If it comes back clean, you drop it. If it comes back that you were right, you know what to do." He says before watching him leave his office.

Minho walks away, searching for one man in particular. He walks into the kitchen, seeing Jeongin on his phone, facing away from the door. "Get it done." He spits, hanging up his phone and turning around.

"Minho." Jeongin gasps.

"Get her to call into work for a while." Minho says. He can't help but notice a small glimmer in Jeongin's eyes whenever he mentions you.

It makes him wonder.

"You're keeping her?" Jeongin asks, walking past Minho.

"For now." Minho says as Jeongin leaves the kitchen.

Jeongin opens the door to Minho's room, seeing you sitting on the bed with your legs crossed and your chin resting in the palm of your hand.

"Get up." He yells, startling you. You jump up, still only wearing Minho's shirt. Jeongin could feel the anger boiling up in him, he tried to let it go but it was hard. "Let's go." He says, turning to walk down a hallway. You follow behind him, trying to keep up as he takes another turn down another hallway and then up a flight of stairs. He leads you inside a dark, dusty room.

"Here." He says, tossing you your phone. "Call in sick to work."

"For how long?" You ask, your voice a whisper.

"Few weeks." He answers, his eyes practically burning holes into you.

You turn away from him, dialing the number to the bar you work at, as you put the phone to your ear you hear the ringing. You're staring at the wall that has a pair of curtains hanging down to give the appearance of a window without actually having a window. Your stomach drops as you continue to look around and see faint splatters of blood all around.

"Hello?" A voice on the other end answers.

"Hi." You whisper. "It's Y/N…I um, I won't be into work for a few weeks."

"Why?"

"I um, had a death in the family.. my… mom." You say.

"Ah okay, sorry about that. See you." He says, ending the call.

You turn around and see leaning against the wall. "All done." You say walking towards the door. You walk through the doorway, Jeongin closely behind you. Right before you hit the staircase you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back before slamming you against the wall. He presses his body against yours, his hand trailing up and down your side before moving up and around your neck. He leans his head in closer to you, his hot breath hitting your ear.

"I can't wait for him to toss you to the side, maybe then you'll give me a turn to play." He whispers. "Believe me when I say, he listens to me more than anyone. Don't fucking lie to us, don't try and play us because we will find out." He pauses, twirling your hair in his finger. "And I will fucking kill you, and I promise, I'll do it with a fucking smile on my face." He finishes, backing away from you before heading down the stairs, leaving you wondering how even after Mingi leaving you 8 months ago, he was still fucking up your life.

Later that evening you were sitting in a chair in Minho's office, as he finished up a call. "Yeah, keep digging. Thanks Felix." He says, letting out a sigh as he hangs up the phone. He raises his head, looking at you sitting there quietly.

"How was your relationship with Mingi if you had no idea about his life?" He asks.

"It was quiet. He told me he worked for some big shot lawyer, so I never questioned the late nights or when he didn't answer his phone. He said he was in court a lot, so it made sense." You shrugged.

"He never showed up covered in blood? Suspicious phone calls? You're telling me he didn't show any signs of not doing what he said."

"He got a lot of calls. Sometimes he would go into a different room, I just assumed he was cheating on me." You admit.

Minho laughs. Before he can ask anymore questions, his phone rings. He answers it, putting it on speaker.

"What?" He asks.

"Minho.. you're not going to like this." Seungmin says from the other side.

"What'd you find?" He asks, glaring at you.

"Her apartment.. It's riddled with cameras and microphones. Someone's been hard-core watching her." Felix pipes up.

You sit up further in your chair, your face confused.

"What?" You whisper, feeling so violated.

"Thanks." Minho says, hanging up the phone.

Seconds later your phone rings on Minho's desk. He looks down and none other than Mingi's name pops up on the caller ID.

"You talk." Minho says to you, as he presses the answer button.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Hi baby, I miss you." Mingi breathes into the phone.

"You ended things with me, Mingi." You spit. "What do you want?" You ask.

"I want to know why the fuck you're sitting in Lee Minho's house right now."

"How.." you pause.

"How do I know? Bitch I know everything." Mingi snaps.

"The fuck you want, Song?" Minho snaps.

"Ah, Minho, the man of the hour." Mingi chuckles. "How's that arm of yours?" He asks. "I assumed you'd leave Y/N alone after that warning, maybe you're not that smart then.. " he laughs. "Let her go."

"Let her go? Nah, knowing how much you want her, makes me want her even more. You know, maybe i'll just fuck her right here on my desk. Do you want to listen to how hard I rail her?" Minho asks.

That shouldn't turn you on, but fuck it really does.

"I'm warning you.." Mingi snaps.

"Or maybe I'll let my men have their way with her. They're all pretty sexually deprived." Minho says before hanging up on Mingi. Minho lets out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair. He was trying to not let Mingi anger him, but he did. He glances over at you, and you're already staring at him.

"You didn't mean that, right?" You whisper. "About your men.."

"You can fuck whoever you want to fuck, I don't give a fuck." Minho snaps.

“What?” You ask. That wasn't quite what you were expecting. “Seriously?”

“Fuck all of then at once. I don't fucking care.” He spits.

"Fine." You scoff, standing up and walking out of his office.

You storm down the hallway, looking for anyone to use for the night.

"You." You call out. "Come with me.." You pause, forgetting his name at the moment.

"Um.. Chan." He answers as you drag him up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Chan asks, looking behind him then back at you dragging him up the stairs. He begins to panic when you don't answer him and continues to drag him upstairs, down the hall before stopping outside Minho’s room.

“I… I can't.” he whispers, his eyes wide as he stands outside his leader's bedroom door.

“Im not going to actually fuck you, Chan.” you chuckle. “No no no, I'm only going to let Minho think I'm fucking you. He claims he doesn't care but he does, or he will.”

“I don't think that's how that's going to play out.” Chan chuckles. You roll your eyes, opening the door to Minho’s room before pulling Chan inside by the neck of his shirt and slamming the door behind you.

You stay in there for an ample amount of time, so that when the two of you come out, it's more believable that he had just fucked you.

"Alright." You say, glancing over at Chan. "Time to go, but first some adjustments."

You walk over to the terrified looking man, and run your hands through his hair, messing it up. After you're done with his hair, you ruffle up his shirt, making him look like he just fucked you good and hard. On your way to the door, you messed yourself up, making yourself look good and fucked before the two of you leave the room; heading downstairs.

"Boss wants to see you." Changbin says to you, passing you on the stairs. You smile to yourself, hoping that it got to him. You were determined to show he cared about you.

You walk just close enough to Minho's office before you give Chan a loud, fake kiss and push him away, making sure to thank him loudly for an excellent time.

"Let's do it again." You yell, walking into Minho's office. "You wanted to see me?" You say, sliding into one of the chairs that sat in front of his desk.

"Did you have a good time?" He asks, his voice low.

"It was great. Why? Jealous?" You ask, a smirk on your face.

Minho chuckles. "My men.." he pauses, walking towards you. He stands over you, leaning down allowing his hands to rest on the arm rests as his face moves in closer to you. "My men value their lives more than that. They wouldn't risk themselves and my trust for them for some pussy." He spits, his voice low. "You're not worth it to them. They won't fuck you. You're mine."

You gulp as he leans in even closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. "And if you fuck Jeongin, I'll kill you both." He grunts. "Also, if you were going to try to make me jealous, Chan was not the way to go."

"So what? Does that mean you're the only one who gets to fuck me?" You ask, scoffing.

"That's exactly what that means." He says, clenching his teeth together. Minho grabs the collar of your shirt, yanking you from the chair and slamming you down on the desk, your face pushed into the stack of papers he had laying around.

Minho pulls your pants down, licking his fingers before slowly working them inside you. "Already fucking wet." He grunts, pulling his fingers out, undoing his pants. He whips out his cock, pumping it a few times before thrusting himself inside of you. He grunts loudly as his hands grip your hips, violently thrusting into you.

"You're not the one in control." He spits. "I am." He finishes, fucking you fast and hard. He thrusts a few times before pulling you out to turn you around. Minho sets you on his desk, ignoring his shoulder pain as he has been all day, pulling your pants off you, tossing them behind him.

You lay back, sticking your legs in the air. He grabs your legs, dragging you to the edge of his desk before sticking his cock back inside you. He can feel you tighten yourself around his cock, making him moan loudly.

“So fucking tight.” He grunts, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck as you wrap your legs around his waist. His hand snakes in between the two of you, and between your lips, rubbing your clit as he continues to grunt while he fucks you. He rubs quickly, making you twitch as you can feel your orgasm building.

"Cum for me." He grunts. You had been waiting for this, your orgasm had been building rapidly as he rubbed himself against you.

"Just like that." You cry out, arching your back as your orgasm pulses through your body, making you shake. "Fuck." You cry out, clenching yourself around him again.

"Dirty slut." He spits as he cums, spilling himself inside of you.

Minho pulls himself out of you, helping you sit up on his desk. Your eyes look to the door and meet the eyes of Jeongin, startling you to jump off the desk and hide behind a confused Minho.

"What?" He asks, looking at you instead of the door. You point towards the door, trying to cover your naked bottom half.

"What the fuck. How long have you been there?" Minho asks.

"Since you started arguing." Jeongin says, his voice unamused.

"What the fuck." You whisper.

"Y/N, get dressed and go." Minho says, ushering you out. You hide under his desk, getting your pants back on before trying to leave the room, moving past a pissed off looking Jeongin.

"You know." Jeongin says, grabbing your arm as you try to move past him. "I could fuck you better, and treat you better." He whispers before letting you go and looking back at Minho.

You leave the room, making your way to the living room where you sit completely uncomfortable as to what just happened.

"I thought we fucking talked about this?" Minho spits, motioning to Jeongin to come closer. "You're to leave her alone."

"I can't help it brother. She's just so.. tempting." Jeongin smirks, licking his lips.

Minho balls his fists up, taking a swing and connecting with Jeongin's face, causing him to stumble back. Jeongin lightly chuckles as he touches his lip, feeling a small drop of blood on his finger.

"Wow brother. Resorting to violence again?" Jeongin laughs.

"I swore to mom and dad that I would watch out for you after they passed. But I will not do this again, I can't have another Lisa situation." Minho yells.

"Y/N is much more important than Lisa ever was."

"Stay away from her. She is mine." Minho threatens.

"I can treat her better." Jeongin spits.

Minho throws another punch, knocking Jeongin back again. He walks forward, hitting him again and knocking him to the ground. Minho climbs on top of him, throwing punches wherever he could get them to land. Jeongin brings his hands up, trying to block the punches as Minho wails on him, Jeongin laughing as he's being hit.

Out of breath, Minho stands up, giving Jeongin a swift kick in the ribs before stepping over him and walking out of his office, headed to find you.

"Let's go." Minho says, motioning to you to stand up.

"Where are we going?" You ask as Minho grabs your arm to pull you away.

"Jeongin isn't stable right now. You need to stay somewhere else." He says before a giant boom shakes the entire house.

Seconds later, Hyunjin runs into the house coughing. "The SUV was blown up." He announces. "It's Ateez. Mingi's here, and he wants her." Hyunjin finishes pointing at you.

"Fuck. Felix, take Y/N and hide her. Now." Minho demands. "Jisung, give me your gun."

Jisung hands over his weapon to Minho, who tucks it in the waist of his pants before hiding it with his shirt. "Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin, come with me." He finishes.

Felix grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you to a room down the hall before closing the door. You stand there, leaning your head against the door to try and hear what's going on.

Minho and his men begin to walk towards the front door, when Mingi appears from around the corner standing with San and Hongjoong.

"Where is she?" Mingi asks, his eyes darting around the room to find you. "I thought I made it pretty clear that you should have let her go. You know better than anyone she's not safe here." Mingi spits, motioning to a beat up Jeongin.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jeongin snaps, moving towards Mingi before being stopped by Hyunjin

"It means, I know what happened to Lisa remember, and I'm sure as fuck not going to let that happen to Y/N." Mingi yells.

Listening through the door you can hear Mingi yelling, saying your name a few times. "If they're talking about me, I should be there." You snap at Felix. He shrugs his shoulders, paying attention to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

Deciding to take it into your own hands, you pull open the door and run down the hallway and into the living room where all the men stand.

"Hey you." Mingi smiles. "Look.." he begins before you cut him off.

"Who's Lisa?" You ask around the room.

No one answers you. "Who the fuck is Lisa?" You ask again.

Mingi looks at Minho and Jeongin. "Are either of you going to tell her? Or should I?" Mingi asks.

Neither of them answer. Jeongin stands there with his arms crossed, his face straight as he stares at you. "Alright then. Lisa is Minho's ex. They dated for a while before she disappeared." Mingi begins.

"Okay.. I don't understand." You say, you're confused on why this is even an issue.

"Jeongin here took a liking to her while they were together. He stalked her, watched her and them together. One day she disappeared, and I can almost guarantee Jeongin had something to do about it. Either he killed her or he has her locked up."

You can hear Jeongin snicker from behind you. You turn to look at him and he gives you a slight smile before winking at you, making your stomach drop.

"You stay here, and you'll end up gone too, which is why you should come with me. Minho knows his brother is unstable but yet doesn't do a fucking thing about it. I can keep you safe." Mingi finishes.

"You say you can keep me safe? I don't trust you. You lied to me for the entire 2 years of our relationship about what you did. I can't.. this is too much." You sigh. "I need to go." You walk away from the group of men, heading out the front door. You walk around the property, heading out into the distance a bit to clear your head. What the fuck were you supposed to do. It took you a few minutes but you decided on your plan.

You went back inside to announce to everyone what you were going to do.

"I'm going home." You say. "I'm going back to work and I'm not dealing with this shit anymore. I just want to go back to my life."

Minho nods his head. "I'll have people keeping an eye on you."

You were surprised, you honestly didn't think he would just let you go.

"I'll take you home." He says. He places his hand on your lower back to guide you out before looking back at Mingi. "Get the fuck out of my house." He spits, walking to his car with you.

A few days later you were getting back into your routine with work and being home. You always had one or two men at the bar with you, and outside your apartment building at all hours of the day and night. Minho was watching you closely, along with his men.

He had told you not to worry about Jeongin but you couldn't help it. He seemed to be uncontrollable and capable of anything.

"See you tomorrow, Chan." You laugh, heading out of the bar.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?" He asks, unsure about leaving you by yourself.

"I'm fine." You smile. "I'm like 5 blocks away and I have pepper spray too." You finish. Chan nods his head, getting into his car to drive away as you begin your short walk home.

About halfway there you hear some footsteps behind you. You try not to let yourself panic and just pick up your pace but the person behind you also picks up their pace. Your chest is heaving as you break into a small run, the person behind you picking up their pace again to keep up with you. The person begins to run faster, but now passes you, making you stop to try and ease your breathing. You probably should have let Chan take you home, your anxiety was too high for this.

You continue walking when a man runs out in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder before shoving a knife into your stomach. "This is a warning for Minho. SKZ better stay out the fuck out of our trafficking district." He spits, pulling the knife out and taking off.

Your hands cover your wound, the blood pouring through your fingers. You fall to your knees, laying on the concrete bleeding out.

You're in and out of consciousness, passing out on the concrete before waking up in someone's arms, being carried somewhere.

"Hospital." You whisper.

"I got you." The man says before you pass out again.

You groan as you wake up, your stomach throbbing but stitched up and bandaged up to heal. You open your eyes but you can't focus, you try to stretch but you have little to no room. Looking around as your eyes try to adjust, you see metal bars surrounding you. You look around more and see a cage you're stuck in suspended from the ceiling. Looking beside you, there's nothing but on the other side there hangs another cage with a dirty looking girl sitting in there.

“What the fuck! Where am I!?” You scream, trying to shake the bars of the cage but you're in so much pain.

“It's no use.” the woman coughs. “No one can hear you.”

“Where are we?” You ask.

“I have no idea.” She sighs.

"What's your name?" You whisper.

"Lisa." She whispers back. Your eyes widen at the name.

"Are you… Minho's ex girlfriend?" You ask.

She cries as she nods her head. "I'm so sorry he got you." She whispers when the metal door swings open from across the room.

You watch as Jeongin walks in with a giant smile on his face.

"My set is complete. My two beautiful girls." He smiles. "Boy, do I have plans for the two of you...” he pauses, his phone now ringing in his pocket.

Jeongin looks at you and Lisa, your hands wrapped around your cage as his phone continues to ring, Minho’s caller ID popping up on the screen. He watches you desperately plead for him to let you go. The wound in your stomach bleeding through the dirty bandages as Lisa coughs so hard she begins spitting up blood.

"Don't say another word. Or I will kill you." He spits, pointing at each of you. "What, Minho? I'm in the middle of something." He says, his eyes darting from you to Lisa, a subtle smile spreading across his face, you don't even want to imagine the thoughts going through his head. "Oh you got a lead on Y/N?" He snickers. "Yeah of course I'll come and scope it out. Sounds fun." He says, hanging up the phone.

"I gotta go, ladies." He says, putting his phone in his pocket and placing a ballcap on his head. "Don't go anywhere." He chuckles, walking away from your pleas and begging.

"How long have you been here?" You ask Lisa whose heaving, her breathing sounding ragged.

"I don't even know." She sighs, trying to find a comfortable position in such a small cage. "Over a year I think."

"How.. How the hell did this happen? Where was Minho? Why didn't he protect you?" You ask in disbelief that he wouldn't have noticed any kind of signs regarding Jeongin.

"It's the same way he didn't protect you from it. He doesn't know all of Jeongin's moves, hell, even Jeongin doesn't know his next move until he does it. He's so unpredictable that Minho never sees it coming. He wants to believe in the best of his brother and can't see all the evil. He doesn't want to believe that Jeongin would do something like this." Lisa says.

"I think he's starting too. He hit Jeongin a few times, and tried to take me away but I said no and I wanted to go home and resume my life. Then I got stabbed and brought here. I'm sure Jeongin was the one who stabbed me too. I think Minho will know that it's Jeongin. He has too." You breathe.

He'll know, right?

"You're sure?" Minho asks Seungmin. Minutes earlier Seungmin stormed into Minho's office saying that someone thought they recognized you, and had seen you a week ago, saw what happened to you but was too afraid to speak up.

"Tell him we'll protect him, nothing will happen to him if he tells us what he knows." Minho tells Seungmin.

Seungmin leaves the room quickly, running to give the information, time was of the essence. Minho didn't want you missing any longer.

"What's going on?" Jeongin asks, walking into his brother's office.

"Someone saw what happened to Y/N." Minho says. "Finally some answers."

He doesn't notice Jeongin immediately tense up, but he tries to not let it show. "Oh?" He questions. "Who?"

"Someone Seungmin found, who saw her walking after the bar closed. I can't wait to get my hands on the motherfucker who did this. I can't do this again." He sighs, grabbing his gun and securing it in the waist of his pants before he walks towards the door. Jeongin stands there, lost in his thoughts before Minho brings him out of it.

"Are you coming?" He asks.

Jeongin shakes his head. "I gotta do something." He mumbles, pushing past Minho and storming out the door.

Seungmin comes around the corner with his arms crossed. "I told you. He knows something." Seungmin states. Minho had a feeling that his brother was somehow involved but he didn't want to believe it. He swore to his parents he would protect Jeongin, but if it turns out to be him, Minho will do what he has to do.

"We need to get out of here." You scream, yanking on the metal bars that barely budge.

"It won't work." Lisa calls over. "I've been trying to get out by myself for a long time. He would let me out.. under circumstances but I refuse his offers. I can't." She says.

"What are his offers?" You ask. Maybe somehow they can be played to your advantages.

"He'll let me out if I agree to be his. But I can't do that to Minho.." She trails off.

"You need to." You exclaim. "Tell him both of us want him. We can take him down.." you begin to whisper as you hear a door creak open. You looked over at Lisa who had a small smile on her lips. You hoped it was Minho whose footsteps you heard but as they got closer, it revealed a frazzled looking Jeongin.

"We gotta move." He mumbles. "He's close to finding you, Y/N." He says, pointing at you. "Maybe I should just get rid of Lisa now." He wonders, a smile creeping across his face, glancing over at her. "I want to hear how her voice breaks as she begs for her life, pleading for me to spare her, saying anything to try to make me second guess my decision, feel something. Even if it won't work.” He grunts. "She'll choose Minho.. fuck, you'll still chooses Minho!" He yells, pointing at you.

"N-no.. I choose you. Jeongin, I want you." You say, scrambling to your knees in the cage, despite your pain, your hands on the bars. "I want you to be mine, Jeongin.”

‘I-I do too..You've done so much for me over the year I've been here. I see how truly sweet and caring you are. Please accept me. You know it's me who you really want." Lisa says, forcing a smile.

Your eyes are wide as you're watching this, you don't want her to trade her life for yours, but what could you do?

"Is that so?" Jeongin asks, walking to her cage. He pulls out a key, unlocking the locks and helping her out before wrapping his arms around her. She struggles to stand, but wraps her arms around him anyway, leaning on him, he holds her closely. It doesn't feel right to him. She's not who he really wants.

"I love you.." She mumbles. "So just let Y/N go.. okay? It's you and me now. You don't need her."

"It's not. She's the one.” Jeongin says, smiling at you. “Your time is up.” He laughs, dragging Lisa from the building. You needed to do something. He was going to kill her.

“Ow… shit. Jeongin.” You cry out. “Please… my wound…” you trail off, falling to the floor of your cage. Jeongin lets go of Lisa’s arm, running to you. He made it to your cage too, jingling his keys to find the right one to unlock it.

“Run!” You scream, watching her bolt out of the open door. Jeongin glares at you, the door of your cage wide open.

“Why did you do that?” He snaps, reaching in for you. You back away as far as you can.

"No no no, please." You cry, trying to squish yourself in the back of the cage so he can't reach you. You try to kick him, and fight him off but you're still weak. Your wound continues to bleed.

"Get out here." He grunts, latching onto your leg and dragging you out and into the floor. He grabs a clump of your hair, pulling you through the door, letting go of your hair, and grabbing your wrist to drag you outside while Lisa continues to run through the field. Jeongin drops you in tall grass, the sun shining down on you, the fresh air surrounding you. He grins as he pulls his gun out, his finger on the trigger.

"Shit." Jeongin spits, pointing the gun at you. Even if he was mad at you, he couldn't kill you.

It's you. He loved you and he was going to have to do whatever he could to make you love him back. He picks you up, dragging you to his car and throwing you in the backseat, before climbing into the driver's seat and spinning out of there. He needs to find somewhere else to take you. He drives the opposite way Lisa ran, trying to figure out the best place to keep you hidden and away from his brother.

"What do you want?" Minho spits as someone knocks on his office door. He was stressed, he didn't know what to do about you. Where were you?

"Hi." A familiar voice whispers. "Remember me?" Lisa asks as she walks into his office.

Minho's jaw drops as he stares at her, she's dirty, wounded and her clothes are torn but it's her. She's here.

"I can't believe it.." Minho says. He briskly walks towards her, pulling her in for a hug. "What happened to you?" He asks.

"Jeongin took me." She cries.

"I knew it." He spits. "What about Y/N? Does he have her too?" He asks.

"I've never met any Y/N's before." Lisa whispers, nuzzling her head back into Minho's warm embrace.

"Jeongin didn't take Y/N?" Minho asks, feeling defeated, but also a little relieved that his brother wasn't involved in your kidnapping.

"But baby, he took me." Lisa pouts, snuggling in closer to him. Minho didn't know how to react to this. She had been gone for so long, and he had moved on, he was falling in love with Y/N, but how did he break it to her when she had just been through something so traumatic.

"Lisa, go upstairs to the guest room, get cleaned up, take a shower and rest. I'll send Hyunjin up with some clothes and a towel for you. I've got some work to do." He says, clearing his throat and awkwardly moving out of her embrace. Lisa looks offended, but he didn't care at the moment. He needed to find you.

"Hyunjin." He calls out

Hyunjin walks into his office, giving Lisa a small nod before focusing his attention on Minho. "Get Lisa some fresh clothes and necessities, but before that, set up a meeting with the informant. I want that information now." He spits.

“Yes sir." Hyunjin says, quickly walking out of the office. Lisa stays behind, watching Minho work, and it made her angry that he didn't care about her right now. The love of his life was standing in front of him after being kidnapped for over a year, and he didn't care.

"Baby." Lisa whines. Minho looks up from his work. "Will you come shower with me?" She asks sweetly.

"Lisa, I'm busy. Go." He spits.

She scoffs. "Can I atleast use your phone?"

He sighs, opening his drawer and digging in it to find an extra phone, there's no way he was going to give her his phone. "Here." He says, sliding a phone and a charger towards her. With a huff she grabs them and storms out of his office, heading up the stairs to Minho's room. She knew he said the guest room, but his room was far more comfortable.

Lisa plugs in the phone to charge and hops in the shower, rinsing off the dirt, grime and smell from her. When she's done, she grabs a pair of shorts and a shirt from Minho's closet, before grabbing the phone and dialing a number.

"Hello?" A voice answers.

"It's done." Lisa says. "I told him I didn't know any Y/N, and that you had only held me captive." She says.

"You fucking idiot, you weren't supposed to say I did it to you. Fuck." Jeongin spits. "You go tell him that I fucking saved you, and you didn't know who took you. That you had gotten shit twisted. Got it?"

"And if I don't?" She asks.

"If you don't, Y/N comes back into Minho's life and you're thrown to the side like the garbage you are."

Lisa hangs up the phone, putting it back on the table to charge more. She stands up, heading downstairs and back into Minho's office to talk to him. She stands outside his office door, her hand hovering just above the door as she listens in before knocking.

"We need to find somewhere safe for Lisa to go. She can't stay here, but more importantly, I need to find Y/N." She hears Minho say.

Shit. She needs to do something, she needs him to forget about Y/N and focus on her. She's here with him right now, she's the one that should matter to him.

Knock

She opens the door slightly, forcing her tears out. "Min?" She sniffles.

"Come in." He says, though he sounds annoyed.

Lisa begins crying heavier now, she looks at him with her tearful eyes, hoping he would be the one to say something first. "You okay?" He asks.

Perfect.

"It wasn't Jeongin who took me.. I lied." She sniffles. "To be honest, I don't know who took me." She whispers. Her entire body shakes, her voice whimpers as she tells him what she knows. "But I'm so scared of him finding me again, this is the only place I feel safe."

Minho notices Hyunjin rolling his eyes, he doesn't believe her story, and frankly Minho isn't entirely sure if he believes her either.

"So Jeongin had no part in your kidnapping, or Y/N's?" Minho asks.

Lisa shakes her head no. "Like I said earlier, I don't know Y/N, but it wasn't Jeongin who took me. I'm sorry for lying about that, baby, he just always made me feel so uncomfortable, so I said his name. But thinking back on it, it wasn't him." She says.

"Are you sure?" Minho asks, wanting to really make sure he was thinking correctly.

"Yeah, it wasn't Jeongin, I swear. He would never do something like that." Lisa says, trying to snuggle her way into Minho's grasp.

Minho's eyes dart to Hyunjin, who's already looking at him. He knows that Hyunjin is on the same page as him. Minho gives Hyunjin a nod, and he swiftly leaves the room.

"Lisa." Minho sighs, moving so he can look right at her.

"Yeah?" She smiles.

He sighs, placing his hands on her cheeks, smiling. "If I find out you're lying about Jeongin or especially Y/N, I'll fucking kill you." He says, dropping her face and storming out of his office, leaving Lisa standing there alone and terrified.

Lisa now knew she fucked up, but Jeongin had her convinced that if she came back into his life, everything would go back to the way it had previously been. She should never have believed him when he came to her with his plan but she desperately wanted to be out of the cage, she wanted to be back into his life and she hated Y/N, she hated that Minho had moved on and she couldn't have let that happen.

“She called a random number.” Hyunjin tells Minho later.

“Did you call it?” Minho asks. Hyunjin nods his head.

“There was no answer. It's a burner phone.” Hyunjin sighs.

“They're working together. I fucking know it.” Minho groans, rubbing his hands on his face.

Before Hyunjin can say anything, Lisa walks into the office. “Hi baby.” She smiles, walking towards Minho.

“I'm busy right now.” Minho says, looking down at the papers on his desk.

“Lisa?” They all hear. Minho looks up, seeing Jeongin standing there. “Wow. It's been so long? What happened? Are you okay?” He asks, walking towards her. Jeongin wraps his arms around Lisa, holding her closely. “Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He whispers to her, pulling away, patting her shoulder.

“You must be so happy.” Jeongin says to Minho, motioning towards Lisa.

“Ha, yeah.” Minho says. “I'm busy, can we talk later?” He says to Lisa and Jeongin. They both nod, walking out of the office. Hyunjin emerges from the corner, sitting in the chair across from Minho.

“I know who can get it out of her.” Hyunjin says. Minho knew who could do it too, but he really didn't want to have that conversation.

“Yeah, Mingi.” He says, pulling out his phone, dialing the number.

“What?” Mingi asks.

“I need your help.” Minho grumbles. “Lisa's back.”

“Oh shit.” Mingi says. “He took Y/N, didn't he?”

“I think so. Lisa said no, but I don't believe her. I need you to find out.”

“You know, if you just lose your morals and start hurting whoever fucks you over, you could do it yourself.” Mingi tells him. “But I'll do it. Bring her here.”

Minho hangs up the phone, looking at Hyunjin. “Go get Lisa.”

Minutes later, Lisa comes into the office, smiling at Minho. “Let's go.” Minho says, grabbing his keys.

“Where are we going?” She asks, climbing into the car.

“Somewhere else where you'll be safe.” Minho says. He can't even look at her, knowing what she's done.

The car ride is silent, until Minho pulls up to the house. “Who lives here?” Lisa asks, getting out of the car along with Minho.

Mingi walks out of the house, a smile on his face. Lisa turns to look at Minho with a horrified look on her face. “Why am I here Minho?” She asks, her voice shaking.

“I know you're fucking lying.” Minho snaps. “and Mingi will get it out of you.” He says, climbing back into the car. He peels off, leaving a crying Lisa, being dragged back into the house.

“Jeongin.” You cough, holding your stomach. “I need a doctor.” You say, you hadn't healed at all and it had been weeks.

“I can't take you to the hospital.” Jeongin says, sitting in the corner of the small building. “You'll leave me.”

“I won't leave you… I promise, Jeongin. But I need help.” You cough.

“I'll be back.” He says, standing up, heading towards the door. You groan, laying your head back down on the floor. You were gonna die here. You knew it.

What felt like days later, Jeongin walks back in through the door, a bag in hand. He walks over to you, kneeling down. He lifted your shirt, removing your bandages, replacing them with new ones.

“Take these.” He says, handing you some pills and some water. You didn't even question what he was giving you, you just hoped that it was going to help you.

A week later, a week of Jeongin giving you pills, and tending to your wound a little more carefully you were finally starting to feel better, on the outside but on the inside you were slowly dying. It had almost been a month, you think, since Jeongin had taken you and it made you wonder if Minho was still even looking for you. You thought he would have found you by now, especially if he was actively looking for you. Didn't Lisa tell him Jeongin had you? Every day you waited for Minho to come and bust through the door to pick you up and whisk you away from this shit hole but you were starting to lose faith. You just wanted to go home.

Weeks later, you were finally healed up, and Jeongin had been fucking with your head the entire time. He almost had you convinced that Minho didn't care for you at all and that he was never going to save you. Tell you that he was the one who loved you, and he would always protect you and take care of you but you knew that it was a lie. You knew he was trying to get into your head and you needed to remain strong but you could make him think that you loved him.

That night, you and Jeongin were laying in the bed, fully in the dark. Tears slipped down your cheeks as your lips trembled. “I love you, Jeongin.” You whisper, hoping he believed you. Maybe he would ease up on you and start giving you a little more leeway.

“You do?” He asks, rolling over towards you.

“I do.” You murmur, trying to not let him hear your voice quiver.

“I knew you’d come around.” He happily sighs, holding onto you tightly.

You fall asleep that night, softly crying, wondering if this was your life now, and if you were ever going to be saved.

402 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 4 months

Text

Above the world

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

🕸️Warning: cursing, mentions of murder and robbery, wounds, slightly suggestive 🕸️Word count: 25.6k 🕸️Rating: nc-17 🕸️Genre: Spiderman!AU, Marvel & DC references, superheroes!AU, strangers to lovers!AU, highschool!AU 🕸️Summary: Moving to a new city due to your mother's psychotic ex-fiancé, you thought the past wouldn't catch up with you, but it does. You're an outcast at your new highschool until a tall and dorky guy approaches you and decides to be your friend. Oh, and did I mention there's also this weird superhero kinda guy in the city who calls himself Spiderman? And why does he kind of remind you of your new friend?

A/N: Lovelies, it's finally here!! I've been planning to write this story for at least two months now, I just didn't have the time for it, but it's here at last! Few things I'd like to quickly point out: 1. I hope the humor I used isn't a miss as once again I wanted to explore something new and used a different writing style, 2. they are in highschool but it's not cringe, I promise (I haven't written a highschool setting in ages lol), 3. I used some terms that are skateboard related and so, I'll leave a little glossary of what those mean below! ^^ (I hope I managed to describe these well) (I hate the fact that I didn't incorporate the famous "hold on tight spider-monkey" line, but it is what it is lol) Sorry if there are any mistakes, I do proofread but it's super late rn and my brain might not pick up on all the mistakes! :') Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this little (not so little) story, and your feedback is always super welcome, they inspire me to write even more lol! divider

⎊ (I have an Iron Man!Mingi oneshot, if you're interested! ^^)

🕸️360: a complete skateboard and body rotation performed either frontside or backside 🕸️180: a half skateboard and body rotation performed either frontside or backside 🕸️alley-oop: an aerial transition trick in which the skater moves his body sideways in the opposite direction of the rotating movement 🕸️backside: a trick or turn executed with the skater's back facing the ramp coping or the obstacle 🕸️alley-oop backside 50-50 grind 🕸️540 backside 🕸️airwalk: an aerial trick in which the skater grabs the nose of the board, kicks the feet out while in the air, and then quickly back on when he's about to land it 🕸️ollie: a trick in which the skater uses his or her feet to pull the skateboard up into the air 🕸️backside nose slip 🕸️frontside boneless 🕸️Casper Flip: a trick in which the skater performs a half-flip and then uses the back foot to grab the tail and whip it

Despite the unfamiliarity of the dimly lit street, there was something very comforting and—quite familiar—about this new place. Perhaps I couldn’t call it home just yet—given that it’s barely my second day here—but there was something cozy about the wet ground shimmering underneath the glimmering streetlamps that did little to nothing to light up all corners of the—otherwise—dark street. Not many are out at this hour, and it’s not because it’s too late, it’s the fact that my mother and I managed to find ourselves—barely— a modest little house, in probably one of the dodgiest parts of this, new, promising, and quite huge city. I wouldn’t call it the slums—I’ve seen worse places compared to this one—but the eerily empty street could make anyone run back inside their house upon nightfall. And, well, I get it—if it weren’t for my favourite music blasting through my wired—probably from the Stone Age—earphones, I probably would’ve found myself scurrying back home as well. But for once, I didn’t mind the cool breeze of air that’s settled upon the city after the rain that came out of nowhere. It was autumn, but the leaves haven’t started falling down just yet. It was the perfect timing for me to join my new high-school, not that there was ever a good timing, per se, I always thought a newcomer would remain just that—a newcomer. And while I didn’t have had to move towns in quite a while now, I still remembered what kind of treatment would be waiting for me tomorrow.

The new girl in school. Everyone would be eager tomorrow to get to know me, to talk to me, to try and befriend me. And me—well, I had nothing against all that—but deep down I just really wished to remain unseen, and most importantly, unbothered. I have never considered myself a very sociable person, and later than sooner, people would realize that and they would finally leave me alone. I don’t have many friends for this exact reason, and the one I do have moved to Spain a long time ago, our phones now the only way to keep in touch—my mother finally saw the important of me being on my phone so often. But it was fine, I didn’t mind the distance, however, there were days when I wished we could hang out, go on small trips, enjoy each other’s company. Nayoung had promised to visit soon, but we both knew she was too busy with her life over in Spain for that to happen anytime soon, and I didn’t have it in myself to pester her about the promise she made.

The neighbourhood my mother and I had moved to wasn’t too far from the heart of the city—and while one would expect it to be lively and bright, it was anything but that—even during the daytime. People seemed to avoid making eye contact and they hung their heads low around here, barely muttering even as much as a greeting if you crossed paths with them down the wide street, even if they were your neighbours. The houses, too, seemed to be silent at all times, no little children screaming and laughing or playing outside, no rowdy teenagers blasting music and getting yelled at for not doing their homework. It was odd, but it was only temporal—well, that is if my mother manages to land herself a better paying job so that we can move away from here. These houses were closely pressed up against each other, back gardens rather—inexistent. Our house just so happened to be neighbouring a huge building—offices, someone had told us—but for what business, we didn’t know. And probably wouldn’t want to know.

I’ve seen some roughed-up people come and go from the beaten-up building. The narrow alleyway just so happened to be a dead-end between our house and this building, and my mother had been debating whether she should place bars outside on my window as it just so happened to be facing this small alleyway. It wasn’t as dark as one would expect it to be, but a barely lit-up streetlamp did a shitty job at fully illuminating it.

I bobbed my head to the music, humming—hopefully—quietly to myself as I skipped down the road, almost splashing myself in the process as I failed to notice a rather deep looking puddle. I chuckled as I narrowly missed it and threw the plastic bag over my right shoulder—completely forgetting I had eggs in there. With an alarmed expression, I scrambled to hold the plastic bag normally and peeked inside, letting out a sigh in relief upon seeing that the eggs were completely fine, not one cracked. I knew my mother would make me walk back to the small convenience store—which was probably about to close up—and I really just wanted to watch my anime—the one I had seen about five hundred times, but who cares?! Some people tend to cling to that what brings them the most comfort, and this anime was like that for me. However, just as the chorus of the song blasted through my earphones, I cleared my throat, ready to mouth the lyrics as I remained alone on the street, when I felt a harsh tug on my right arm. And when I didn’t react to it straight away, I was pushed forward, stumbling through a puddle and splashing my new white Vans.

“Oh, come on, man!” I snapped, frowning down at my, now, dirty shoes, “I just got these yesterday!”

As I turned and went to pull out the earphone from my left ear, I was met with a sight that I wasn’t exactly expecting. Well, to be fair, I thought a kid or an asshole had run into me on purpose, but—having a metal gun almost pressing into my forehead certainly wasn’t what I was expecting—what a way to greet your new neighbour on their second day of living here!

“Empty your pockets!” The tall man, dressed in all black—typical—hissed as I managed to pull out both of my earphones while moving slowly, “And give me everything that’s pricey.”

Well, jokes on him, I didn’t have anything pricey on myself…well, except for my phone, “I don’t really have that many pockets, man.”

I pulled my cardigan’s pockets out, showing the robber that I really had nothing inside, “Look, man, if you think you are broke?! Just look at me! You are really out here trying to rob a broke high-school student—”

“Shut up!” The man snapped, and I froze as the barrel of his gun was now forcefully pressing against my forehead. Uh, yeah, if there’s one thing I totally suck at—well, it’s shutting the hell up when needed, “Give me your rings! Now!”

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked down at my hands, scowling as I realized I was wearing all of my favourite rings. Like hell was I giving them to this dude!

“Honestly, I got these from some antique shop for the cheapest price ever,” I huffed, raising the plastic bag between us and trying to ignore the way my heartbeat picked up when the man’s eyes narrowed, gun pressing just a little bit harder against my cold skin—okay, I have started sweating, “But you can totally take this bag! Like, man, it’s all yours, really! I’m not even hungry anymore! My mom’s hot dogs can wait for another day, you can have it, man.”

“What the fuc—” But before the man could even finish his sentence, he was gone. Like—gone. Whisked away, or some shit. I stood there, dumbfounded, mouth gaping and blinking at nothing. I swear, the man was in front of me a second ago and now he’s—not anymore? I gulped, squeezing the plastic bag to my chest—disregarding the fact that I could crack the eggs—and slowly looked around, now finally acknowledging the fact that I was really panicking. What do you mean I was being threatened a second ago at gunpoint and now that motherfucker disappeared into thin air?! Did I inhale something sketchy when I passed those two dudes in front of the convenience store? Was I hallucinating now? Has the trauma induced by my mother’s ex finally caught up to me, ready to torment me? Am I going to—the soft thump in front of me made me freeze as I slowly moved my eyes from the sky towards where I heard the sound come from and—yeah, I screamed.

“Hey, hey, wait!” Whatever that thing was called out, making my eyes widen as I accidentally stumbled back, certainly about to fall into a puddle, but—a web shot out towards me from that thing’s wrist and caught me mid-air, gently stabilizing me, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not here to hurt you! I just—saved you, actually.”

The sound—well, voice—coming from underneath that thing’s—man’s—mask was boyish and a little bit distorted, but I could hear its—his—tone very well, still. It was soft and sounded rather concerned. Having realized that I was still gaping towards this—something—with my heart practically in my throat, I closed my mouth and blinked furiously, trying to clear my head as I shook my body in case this was a dream—it seemed like the perfect moment to wake up, before it could turn even weirder.

“Okay,” The masked thing—man, guy, whatever—mused, clearly sounding amused now, “I’ve never seen anyone react like that to Spiderman, actually.”

“A spider what?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing as I held onto the bag even tighter. For a moment, there was complete—awkward—silence.

“Spiderman?” The person sounded unsure as they scratched their nape, its mask blinking. I jumped, allowing my eyes to fully take in this—creature?! Why did it look like a real man if they called themselves a Spiderman?! As if all that wasn’t enough, the person was tall enough to loom over my form in its red and blue glory, the costume moulding against their lean and—softly—muscular body, looking like a second skin, almost. The design was intricate, and I could swear it looked like it had some actual web sewed into it. All in all, the outlook was quite cool, it’s just that it was confusing to look at…him? I mean, the person did look like a man, alright—a fine one, on top of that—and they did call themselves a man, so.

“Are you going to—morph into a spider or some shit?” I found myself asking, sounding less mortified than I felt on the inside. That was good, no? I mean…this creature still hadn’t attacked me or killed me, so we were getting somewhere, right?

“Morph into a spider—” And then the creature—man—was laughing hard and loudly, doubling over as its body shook, hitting its knees with its hands, making me narrow my eyes at them. Nothing about what I had asked was funny. I was genuinely confused. Was this some kind of prank? Would I end up going viral all over the internet? Where were the cameras?

“I’m not Antman.”

“Antman doesn’t turn into an ant.” I deadpanned, the stranger in front of me raising up to their full height again, quieting down. I swear to God, I could just about slightly see their lips pursed, but the mask did a good job at concealing every feature of the stranger’s.

“Yeah, you’re actually right.” The stranger seemed to agree with me, and if I had to take a guess, he was probably smiling underneath his mask, “So, if Antman doesn’t turn into an actual ant, do you think Spiderman will turn into an actual spider?”

“Where are we? At school?” I deadpanned sarcastically, eyebrows furrowing as I just realized the web this creature had shot towards me to stop me from falling into the puddle was still clinging to my forearm. Ew.

“Right, I’m—oh.” The stranger cut themselves off as something on their left arm started buzzing, quiet beeping catching my attention as I looked towards his wrist, at which the weirdo was blinking down at now—well, their mask was, “Sorry, duty calls, them bad boys are asking for it again. Are you far from home?”

“No, I live right down the street.” I found myself answering whatsoever, the fear of getting murdered miraculously gone despite this weird encounter.

“Cool, then hurry home before it gets later and more dangerous.” The stranger’s voice was friendly, and I watched as they bent their knees a few times, looking like they were about to launch themselves away.

“Wait—” I quickly said, biting my lower lip when the masked man turned his head towards me, “where’s the guy that was threatening me?”

The stranger just shrugged his shoulders once, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “Don’t worry about him, he won’t bother you again anytime soon.”

“Oh, okay.” I whispered, eyes widened once the stranger shot another web from their wrist, this one quite long as it latched onto the side of an abandoned factory. Wow, just how was that possible? Wouldn’t it break? No, wait, it was able to hold me without breaking, so it certainly wouldn’t break under this man’s weight—isn’t that impressive?!

“Hey,” Snapped out of my thoughts, I was surprised to find the man crouched down, funnily resembling a frog, “I’m glad I found you at the right time, but try to be more careful next time, I’m afraid I won’t be always around to save you.”

I gulped and nodded, feeling my cheeks tinge red a little, “Thanks…Spiderman?”

The person chuckled, soft and a little deep, somehow the voice modulator unable to properly mask the sound, and then—as quickly as he had appeared in front of my eyes out of thin air—he was gone just like that too. I whipped my head up with my mouth falling open, watching in awe as the man swung around from building to building, making it seem like nothing. He had some mad trust in those webs of his, I could never. My fear of heights simply would make me too terrified to frail around like that, so high up in the sky. One misstep and—well, you’re dead.

The loud barks of a dog coming from a house down the street made me jump, and I realized I should’ve long made my way home. Couldn’t have my mother worrying about me so soon, and so, heeding the advice of this…Spiderman, I hurried the rest of the way back home, reminding myself to look up this mystery—hero?

Well, school turned out to be the complete opposite of my expectations. The ambush I was waiting for as I walked through the large front doors—well, it never happened. People swarming towards me, desperate to meet and greet the new girl—that, also didn’t happen. Perhaps I misjudged the situation at first, after all, not all people were so eager to make new friends, but to not have at least one single person approach me was—simply put, odd. Well, it was odd until I found out the reason as to why everyone seemed to steer clear from my path, avert their eyes—or even going to the length of staring at the ground while they walked past me—or why I heard whispers behind my back everywhere I went. They’ve heard what my ‘step-father’ had done. By now, everyone knew why my mother and I had to move to a new city, yet nobody bothered enough to hear the full story—or at least wait before judging me. He wasn’t even my step-father, actually, my mother never got to marry him with how he’s now locked up in federal prison, rotting away in a cell.

“Did you hear her father stabbed the man one hundred times?”

“Do you think she’s also a psychopath?”

“She does look like one, if you ask me.”

“Who even allowed her to enrol in our school?!”

“Wait, what if she carries a knife on her like her father did?!”

“Do you think her father brought her out with himself to hunt for his prey together?”

Were some of the absurd whispers I managed to catch during the four hours that I’ve been at my new school, and these questions just kept getting more hilarious and deranged each time I heard them.

“Yes, and he made sure to teach me how to smell a weakling, too.” I had smirked, just barely turning my head, to look at the blonde girl in line behind me as we were waiting for our turn to pick up our food, “Usually blondies like you are easy to lure in, sweetheart. Less yapping and paying more attention to your surroundings might save you next time from saying something embarrassing about said person standing right next to you.”

The blonde’s eyes had almost bulged out of her eye sockets just as it was our turn to pick up our food for the day, and then I was off to find a table that was still empty as I knew no one would want to sit next to me. Thankfully, the canteen of the high-school was spacious enough.

And after that, not much happened other than people unabashedly staring my way and whispering, the teachers being either very nice or acting uncaring towards me. And by the middle of the day, I was finally ready to head home, but I had yet to power through two more classes. And if that didn’t sound excruciating enough, the loud laughter suddenly dying down as a group of girls passed by me, certainly brought a sour taste into my mouth. I couldn’t help myself as I played into the rumours and hissed at the girls, making them scramble off in a frenzy. I chuckled, and quite quickly almost choked on my own spit as someone had started to chuckle behind me, scaring the living daylights out of me. I had—foolishly—assumed I was alone in the hallway, wanting to pick up a few books from my locker before I would head to my next class. I had zero intentions to pay attention in my last two classes, reading some manga will do for the time being.

“You’re not helping yourself by feeding into these people’s delusions.” The same voice that had chuckled spoke up as I whirled around, totally not expecting to see the loomingly tall guy from my classes, leaned against the lockers, a dashing smile on his face. Fuck. Did he have to be so handsome?

“Speaking to the ‘daughter’ of a criminal? How daring,” I whispered, faking a deranged smile as I grabbed something out of my pocket, “Aren’t you afraid you might be my next victim? Considering the fact that these stupid kids at school seem to think I’ve killed—fifteen people already?!”

And to that morbid ‘joke’, I certainly didn’t expect my cute—and handsome—classmate to burst out laughing. His puffy cheeks had a natural rosiness to them and I couldn’t fight the smile on my lips as I noticed the tips of his ears had turned slightly red as well. He laughed with his whole mouth, hand shielding it and oh—his fingers were nice. Long. Well—my classmate looked down at my hand, still laughing, as I held a plastic fork oh so menacingly and threateningly, pointed towards his chest.

“Why do you have a plastic fork in your jacket?” My classmate asked amused, narrowing his eyes teasingly, “Were you waiting all day long just to do that?”

“No!” I exclaimed mortified, hiding the plastic fork behind my back. God, this is now really embarrassing, “I just—I was wearing this jacket when my mom and I were moving in. I bought some food and this fork, apparently, and then completely forgot about it and left it in my pocket.”

I could swear I heard my classmate mutter a ‘cute’ before he straightened up, dusting his seemingly completely spotless jeans. Oh, God, okay, he’s tall tall. I gulped as I slightly had to look up at him, feeling so completely little despite having a quite decent height for a girl—not that there’s anything wrong with any type of heights.

“I meant to greet you during our lunch break, but my friends wouldn’t let me leave,” My classmate spoke up while scratching the back of his head, looking sheepish. I had to force my eyes to move up to his face from his hands, only to have my stomach doing weird flips. Oh, hell no, I was not about to have a crush on someone—let alone my classmate—the very first day I get to my new high-school. But the guy wore washed out blue jeans, looking a little baggy, and he had a white, probably, t-shirt peeking out from underneath his green long-sleeved blouse, a jersey with our school’s logo thrown over it. And the blue and white bandana around his greyish-greenish—and blueish in certain lightning—hair certainly pulled his outfit together, making him look really good. And despite considering myself someone who is almost always well dressed, I felt quite plain looking right now. Absentmindedly, I started playing with one of my many rings that I was wearing, “My name is Jeong Yunho, by the way.”

Right, Jeong Yunho. I’ve caught his name from the teachers and a few classmates already. I smiled, nodding a little, “Yeah, I’ve heard your name a few times this morning. I’m Kang Y/N.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you, then, Y/N.” I chuckled and shook his extended hand, totally trying not to gape at how big it was and how awfully well it enveloped around mine. Plus, his hand was way too hot, almost to the point it was burning my freezing hand.

“You too.” I found myself answering, but not quite present as I tried to pull my hand out of Yunho’s before I would start gushing about his fingers. God, when have I turned into this person? Yeah, I had a thing for hands, fingers, and rings, sue me—but never have I had it this badly for someone I just met.

“So,” Yunho said cheerily, clapping his hands together as I pushed mine inside my jacket’s pockets, “Do you want me to show you around school? I know a few good hiding spots for when you’re in the mood to skip classes.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be in class right now, though?” I asked confused, looking down the empty hallway. The bell had rung a good ten minutes ago, but I had figured the teacher’s would be lenient with me today as I was new and—didn’t actually know my way around school just yet.

“Nah,” Yunho chuckled, his features really boyish and—cute—damn it, “I spoke to the teacher, it was his idea to ask me to show you around, actually. You’ll find Mr. Kim a rather odd man, but he’s cool and really smart.”

“Oh, okay,” I muttered, pursing my lips as I opened my locker to put away my books as I didn’t need them anymore, “but for the record, that guy everyone is talking about, isn’t my father. We’re not related, not even a little bit. He’s a psycho and I’m glad he’s locked up for life.”

I didn’t mean to sound so—rough, but I hated the fact that everybody so quickly assumed things about me that weren’t even true. Yeah, I didn’t exactly want to be bothered and make new friends, but one or two people would’ve been still nice if they did approach me.

“Yeah, I don’t exactly care,” Yunho said with a casual shrug, giving me a small smile that made his cheeks puff out a little bit, “call it a spidey sense, but I think you’re a really nice person.”

My eyes narrowed as I huffed quietly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as Yunho grinned, looking ready to finally show me around, “Speaking of spiders, who the fuck is this Spiderman?”

If there was one thing in the world that I would find no matter where I was—that was a skatepark. No matter how much I love watching anime and reading mangas, skateboarding just so happens to be a little higher up on the scarce list of my likes and dislikes. And after having cruised around my neighbourhood, narrowly avoiding the masses as I refused to step down off my skateboard, I finally found a skatepark. It wasn’t too packed, which was really awesome—I never actually liked it when it was full of rowdy kids wanting to show off—and it was in walking—or riding—distance from the neighbourhood I live in. At least the people around here look a little bit friendlier than the ones back on my street, my mother would finally have something to be happy about. She hates our new place—understandably so—and is restlessly looking for a new job, to the point that I had to shut her laptop off last night for her and send her to bed. Who is being the responsible adult now, huh, mom?

Today was my third day at school and—well, it could have been worse, to be fair. My peers still looked at me like I had two heads—or was carrying a knife on me—they still whispered made up shit about me—of course, they did, it was barely my third day—but somehow having Yunho around slightly helped? Yeah, Yunho—well, he is quite adamant on being my friend despite me very obviously ruining his perfect reputation. It wasn’t hard to notice just how popular this dude actually is at school. Everyone greets him in the hallways, people flock to him every few minutes, and he’s always smiling and making small talk with everyone. He does have his closer-knit friend group—who very obviously are not fond of me—yet he still somehow makes it seem like he’s friends with absolutely everyone. I wounder if he’s ever had an enemy in his life before—less likely, to be fair. With a face and personality like his, I don’t think anyone would have the guts to hate that guy.

But putting thoughts of Yunho aside and sending a quick text to my mother to inform her about my whereabouts, I placed my phone back in the back pocket of my jeans, and took off towards the slope. My skateboard glided smoothly along the ground as I passed by a few other skaters, the sky darkening soon as evening was slowly approaching. A group of guys were huddled together and watching something on their phones as I did a 360, grinning as they cast glances my way after the little trick I pulled. I wasn’t a big trick master, never too bothered to actually learn the ones that were more dangerous, however the few tricks I did know were pretty cool and nicely executed. Arriving to the slope, I stepped my left foot off the skateboard and looked down, watching a few skaters glide down and do tricks. The slope wasn’t too high nor too big, I had no problem going down it. So, stepping back onto my skateboard, I kicked off and grinned as my heart started pumping faster, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. I had tied my hair in a low ponytail, not keen of having it whipped in my face by the wind.

I grinned as my path was clear, making it possible for me to do a kickflip, my skateboard lifting and turning as I raised my knees high up, letting out a quiet huff as the moment was soon over and my feet were planted on my skateboard again, the speed and force enough to help me glide up on the other end of the slope. A guy and girl were at the top, both clapping casually as I grinned, doing a 180 turn before stepping off my skateboard.

“Nice one.” The girl praised and I bowed my head slightly, grinning.

“Thanks, you’re pretty cool yourself too.” I complimented her, having seen her do an ‘alley-oop backside 50-50 grind’. The girl grinned and did a mock salute before she was off the slope, in no time doing a 540 backside, making the guys—and myself—cheer for her. She had some nice skills; I had to give it to her. The girl grinned as she came to a stop at the top of the other end of the slope, shooting thumbs up towards us. I chuckled and walked to the side, taking a seat as my legs dangled off the slope. I had been riding around for more than half an hour, I could use a break right now. Besides, taking in my ‘competitors’ was always a smart move. And I mean, maybe I could make some friends too here? That girl seems pretty cool and the tricks she knows are awesome. I watched her do an ‘airwalk’, then ‘ollied’ off the side of the slope as she was headed towards a ledge grind, where she went for a ‘backside nose slip’. I placed my hands underneath my thighs as another guy went barrelling down the other end of the slope, doing a 50-50 grind as he came up on the side I was sitting at, before heading for a smaller ramp, nailing a ‘frontside boneless’. I pursed my lips and nodded, appreciating his technique as the bigger crowd of boys now kicked off too, weaving through the smaller ramps, doing tricks as one of them was headed for the slope. He grinned as he kicked off his skateboard, picking up speed as he went from one side to the other, winking at me as he did a 50-50 grind, making me snort. But he wasn’t done trying to impress the people who were watching him, and he daringly went ahead and did a ‘Casper Flip’, my eyes widening at how smoothly he nailed it. That was a trick I have tried to learn one too many times, but in the end my legs just got jumbled together—and not having enough patience—I just gave up on it.

The guy did another kickflip and then he was off towards his friends, who were loudly cheering him on, patting his back. I chuckled and looked around, noticing it was golden hour. It was beautiful, the sun coated everything in orange, reflecting off the windows of the tall buildings surrounding the park. I smiled and grabbed my phone, snapping a few pictures off it before I realized it was getting really late now and I still had to finish my Geography homework. So, just as I stood up, suddenly loud cheers erupted all around me, making me look around curiously. But there wasn’t anyone performing any cool or hard tricks, so I looked on confused, up until I saw someone pointing upwards. And as I looked up too, squinting as the golden hue of the sunlight was harsh to the bare eyes, I noticed something swinging from building to building. Red and blue and webs. Ah, Spiderman. I chuckled as I glanced at the kids in the park again, noticing the awe and excitement as they waved and pointed at the—hero?

“Spiderman!” A younger looking girl cried out, waving so hard her arm threatened to fall off any minute now, her phone in her hand, no doubt recording Spiderman. But the guy was too high-up to hear anyone call out for him. I grabbed my skateboard and placed my phone back in my pocket before I was off the slope, doing a few ollies and kickflips in the process, skirting around the mini-ramps, opting to just casually stroll out of the park. I pushed my hands in my pockets and allowed the skateboard to roll at an acceptable speed, smiling at the cool girl when she waved at me, noticing that I was on my way out. However, as my attention was on her, I failed to notice a guy rolling towards me rather quickly, in the midst of doing an airwalk, completely oblivious to me as he grinned at the camera his friend had pointed towards him. And when I finally turned my head to look ahead, it was too late as the guy and my skateboards crashed together, making me cry out in surprise. In no time was I tumbling towards the cold ground, bracing myself for the impact, thinking I would end up with scrapped elbows—if nothing anything worse.

But the impact never came and I stood frozen, hearing whispers around me and the other guy’s moans of pain. My eyebrows furrowed as I slowly opened one eye, mouth falling completely open as Yunho stood leaning over me, one strong arm holding me up around my middle, my body inches away from the ground. His eyes searched my face for a second before a huge smile stretched onto his lips, chuckling at my befuddlement as my heart continued to race. Since when was Yunho at the skatepark? And how did I fail to notice him? And why was I blushing so hard as he helped me stand up straight?

“Oh—uh—hi.” I muttered, feeling flustered as Yunho didn’t release me despite me being back on my two feet, “Thanks, that’s—impressive. Uh—since when were you at the park?”

Yunho chuckled and averted his eyes, his ears reddening suspiciously as he released me at last, “Just now—I mean, I was around. At the back, uh, I—I was passing by when I saw someone I knew in here and—are you okay?”

“It’s not me you have to be worried about.” I said with a grimace, pointing at the other guy that was now sitting on the ground, clutching his elbow to his chest.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yunho sounded worried as he walked over, crouching down.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s broken.” The guy said and Yunho pursed his lips, looking alright with his answer, however, he still went and helped him off the ground, muttering something to the guy as he nodded and grabbed his skateboard before going off.

“What’d you say to him?” I asked curiously, looking up at Yunho with my eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat and ran his long fingers through his hair, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck now.

“That he should go to the doctor, it might not be broken but you know…a smaller rupture or something might still have happened.” Yunho explained and I hummed, looking around as I didn’t know what to say or do. The kids were slowly going home, the skatepark emptying, streetlamps illuminating the streets as the sun was gone now. It was time for me to head home.

“I have to—”

“Would you like to—”

Yunho and I looked at each other with our eyes wide, both a little embarrassed for speaking over the other. I could feel my face heat up and I looked down at the ground, stepping on the heel of my skateboard in order to hold it up, to have something to distract myself with.

“Sorry, you go first.” Yunho said, voice quiet as a car honked loudly as it narrowly avoided another one that just stopped without putting the hazard lights on.

“Oh,” I licked my lips before looking up at Yunho, for a second captured by his chocolate brown eyes. His silver-greenish-bluish hair was out of his eyes today, swept back a little messily with a middle part at his forehead, strands wavier than yesterday or the day before. It softened his features in a sweet way, “No, uhm, were you going to ask me something?”

“Yeah, I—” Yunho took his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating for a second, “Would you like to grab something from the convenience store? Soda or anything else…”

I pursed my lips, calculating in my head whether I had enough money on me to go spend it at the convenience store, however, Yunho mistook my silence as a refusal, his cheeks instantly inflaming hot pink, “You don’t have to! I’m sorry, that was too much, I—I know we just met a few days ago, but—”

“I’d like to go, Yunho.” I cut his panicked ramble off, smiling at him amused. Yunho gaped for a second longer at me, but then he shut his mouth and chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. Why did he have to look so cute whenever he did that?

“Oh, cool, there’s a store right across the street.” Yunho pointed behind me, making me look back. Huh, I haven’t even noticed the convenience store before, but perhaps that’s because the windows were dusted up and there were no signs indicating that it was still in function, “Oh, it looks dodgy from the outside but they even have arcade games inside! I really like that place.”

“Sure, let’s go then.” I shrugged and offered Yunho a wide smile, taking off towards the exit of the park, “But I can’t stay for long, my mother will be worried about me no matter how many texts I send that I’m fine.”

Yunho’s chuckle mirrored mine behind me, and I pushed the gate open, stepping aside and holding the door open for Yunho. He thanked me and walked ahead, waiting for me at the crossroad. It took me a second to notice his cardigan, which was blue and super fluffy, and its hood had ears. It looked cute—why was everything cute about this guy? I quickly averted my eyes off Yunho when he turned to check that I was still keeping up with him—walking behind him, since his legs are too long and I can’t keep up with him—slowing down a little when he noticed I was struggling to hold my skateboard and also keep up his pace.

“Do you want me to carry that for you?” He asked with a smile, pointing at the skateboard.

“Ah, no, I got this.” I grinned, giving him a thumps-up, making Yunho chuckle as he quickly turned his head, muttering something to himself. As we arrived in front of the store, Yunho pushed the door open for me this time and stepped aside, ushering me inside. The place was actually well lit and there was a nice vanilla scent wafting through the air. I smiled as the clerk greeted us, beckoning us further inside. The walls were a neon yellow and fridge after fridge lined up against it, a few tables stern across in the middle of the space. It wasn’t a huge store, just enough for about ten people to fit inside. But the arcade Yunho talked about was nowhere to be seen.

“So, where’s that arcade at, huh?” I teased as I followed Yunho to a fridge, his grin so wide it stretched across his whole face. He sneaked a glance my way before turning towards a door I assumed were the toilets, and pointed one long finger at it.

“Beyond that door.” He answered and the opened the fridge, grabbing one strawberry milk for himself. I hummed and pursed my lips as I looked through the window of the fridges, trying to decide what I was craving. And chocolate milk was the winner as I grinned while grabbing it out of the fridge. The music wasn’t too loud inside the store, just the right volume if you wanted to have a conversation without bothering others or getting overheard. Yunho stood by the front desk, apparently conversing with the clerk, the two huddled close together. I narrowed my eyes at the two as I approached, propping my skateboard up against the sturdy wood of the front desk. The clerk cleared his throat upon noticing me and pulled back, plastering a generic smile on his face. His sharp eyes weren’t the friendliest, but he didn’t seem malicious.

“What’d you get?” Yunho asked as he looked down at me, still leaning against the front desk, arms crossed and resting on the wooden table. I placed my chocolate milk next to his strawberry one and smiled.

“Chocolate milk, haven’t had it in a really long time.” Well—does one consider three days ago a long time ago? Because I do, certainly. Yunho hummed and then faced the clerk again, nudging his head in the direction of our items.

“Think you can put them on my tab, Joong?” Yunho’s grin held mischief as he snickered in the clerk’s direction, who’s eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t a bar, Yunho, no, I can’t put it on your tab.” The clerk’s voice held exasperation as he heaved a long sigh, “You still haven’t paid for your last purchase—”

“Hey! I thought we had an agreement about that one!” Yunho exclaimed, looking offended as the clerk just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Fine, but next time you are paying for every item you have bought from me and haven’t paid for yet this month.” Yunho giggled—actually giggled and something in my stomach coiled at the warm and cute sound of it—as he grabbed our strawberry and chocolate milks, winking at the clerk.

“I won’t be coming around too soon, then, Joong.” The clerk just rolled his eyes again and grabbed for his phone from his hoodie’s pocket.

“We’ll see about that spider—I mean—spidey obsessed dude.” I laughed a little at the clerk’s words, however it quickly died down when I saw the way Yunho froze and the clerk’s eyes widened just a fraction. Sensing the sudden weird tension in the air, I cleared my throat and grabbed my chocolate milk out of Yunho’s hand.

“Thank you for your generosity—” I raised my eyebrows, not feeling it adequate to call the clerk by the nickname Yunho did.

“Hongjoong,” It was Yunho who answered though, the clerk seemed a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, “He’s a good friend of mine, so don’t worry about it.”

“Good friend of mine,” Hongjoong, the clerk, mocked with a grimace, “We’ve known each other since they day you were born, you idiot.”

“Hey, so what?!” Yunho stuck his tongue out, and before I could thank Hongjoong properly for letting me have a free strawberry milk, Yunho was gripping my arm and pulling me towards the table furthest from the front desk. In a haste, I grabbed my skateboard and grinned at Hongjoong, bowing my head a little as he blinked before offering me the smallest smile I’ve ever seen. Well, what a colourful personality this shorter guy had.

Yunho was seemingly eager to reach our table as he had plopped down into a seat just as we got to it, excitedly opening his strawberry milk, making me chuckle. I placed my own chocolate milk on the table, not noticing how close it was to the edge as I placed my skateboard on the floor, and then shrugged my jacket off. It was warm enough inside to get rid of it, and so, as I went to put my jacket on the back of my chair, I accidentally knocked my hand into my chocolate milk, sending it towards the ground. However, as I gasped and went to reach for it, Yunho’s hand was already extended, small carton held securely in his big hand. I blinked, staring at Yunho for a second before I placed the jacket on the back of the chair and took a seat opposite him.

“Thanks.” I muttered as he extended the chocolate milk towards me, only just now noticing that the nail on his left ring finger was painted a dark blue. I tried to fight the blush that threatened to bloom on my cheeks as our fingers touched, eyes trained onto the table and subsequently on Yunho’s hands as they were both resting on top of it. He wore a few black rings and his whole outfit was casual wear once again, yet it looked really well put together. As I fiddled with the lid of my chocolate milk, I tried to ignore how hot Yunho’s hand felt again, and blamed it on the fact that my hands were always cold, “You’ve got some really nice reflexes, Yunho.”

My eyebrows raised as Yunho choked on his strawberry milk, coughing a little as he hit his chest a few times, struggling to regulate his breaths again. Well—I suppose I must have said something wrong, then? However, I failed to understand what exactly that I said was—well, wrong or triggering.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yunho cleared his throat at last, chugging half of his strawberry milk down, “thank you, I—uh, I’ve always been, uh, fast?”

“Is that a question?” I asked with a chuckle, pushing the little straw inside the little bottle before I took a small sip.

“No! I—” Yunho smacked his lips together, ears red once again, “I do have good reflexes, you’re right. Not many people notice.”

“I mean,” I chuckled, smiling at him, “that’s weird since it’s so obvious.”

“It is?” Yunho asked confused, scratching the back of his head.

“A little bit.” I whispered, averting my eyes as I became shy under Yunho’s watchful gaze. He was a tiny bit intimidating, but overall, really nice—and cute, damn it.

“So,” Yunho cleared his throat, keen on changing the subject, “How do you like it here?”

I shrugged, placing my hands on the table as I started playing with my rings, “I haven’t even been here for a week yet, but—it’s fine? I suppose—I mean, it could be a lot worse.”

“Don’t like where you live?” When my eyebrows furrowed, Yunho seemed to choke a little on his strawberry milk again, “I mean—the neighbourhood! Or like—your neighbours or—something.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, finding it a little endearing how easily flustered Yunho got. In school we couldn’t talk for long as his friends would always interrupt us, boisterous and loud for no reason, “You are quite spot on with that, what gave you the hint?”

“Oh, I,” Yunho gestured around, shrugging a little, “figured since you were at the skatepark. It’s not that big nor very equipped. Others would want to go the central one, close to the big mall.”

“There’s one there too?” I quirked up in interest, “I have missed riding around, so I wasn’t in a search for a skatepark necessarily, you see, I came across this one randomly. And I’m glad I did, because I saw some really cool tricks the others were doing.”

“How long have you been skating for?” Yunho asked in interest, leaning forward, chin resting on his intertwined hands.

“Uhm,” I hummed, looking up towards the ceiling as I tried to count the years, “Ten, maybe? But I only ever skated for fun.”

“It’s a pretty cool skill and hobby to have.” Yunho grinned, eyes falling onto my skateboard as I placed my right leg on top of it, smiling at his compliment, “And I’ve also noticed that you like reading?”

“Oh,” I flushed a little, biting the straw of my chocolate milk before I took a gulp, “yeah, I really like reading—mangas.”

“Really?!” Yunho exclaimed, shouting over the smooth melody playing from the radio. I sneaked a glance towards Hongjoong, and quite frankly, wasn’t surprised to see him watching Yunho with narrowed eyes, it almost made me chuckle at how oblivious—or uncaring—Yunho was towards Hongjoong’s apparent annoyance with him.

“Really.” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows, “Why are you so excited, you also like mangas?”

“Oh, well, not me—not that I have anything against them! They are like super cool and such!” Yunho rambled on, averting his eyes as I tried to fight my amused grin off my face, “Mangas are cool, is what I’m trying to say, however, it’s my best friend that really likes them.”

“Hongjoong?” I asked interested, happy to have something to talk about with Hongjoong since I would be returning to this store as it was straight across the skatepark.

“Mingi, actually.” Yunho muttered, slumping back in his seat, “You know, our classmate.”

“Oh, Song Mingi?” Meaning, the guy that’s been staring daggers at me anytime Yunho even as much as came in my vicinity? I figured this Mingi guy wasn’t a huge a fan of me, not that I could do anything about it, really. If some people wanted to believe the rumours, I couldn’t do anything about that.

“Him, yeah,” Yunho muttered, pursing his lips, “I promise he’s not a douche even if he acts like it at times—”

“All the time.” I added with a chuckle, making Yunho look away.

“He’ll warm up to you.” He tried to cheer me up, but I just shrugged.

“And if he doesn’t, it’s fine, Yunho.” I reassured him with another smile, “It’s not like we can like everyone.”

“True, but—now that you two have something in common he will give in to you, trust me.” Yunho looked quite convinced and I just chuckled as I nodded once, taking some more sips of my chocolate milk.

“So, if Mingi and I like reading mangas, what do you like, Yunho?” I raised my eyebrows, definitely ignoring the way my heartrate picked up when an abashed smile stretched onto Yunho’s lips and he looked up through his lashes at me.

“Video games, like, a lot.” There was an excited glint in Yunho’s eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I eat and breathe video games.”

I giggled and nodded as Yunho went on a short rant about his favourite video games and which were best to play if you were a beginner—like me—and which were more challenging and not too nerve-wrecking as he apparently had a problem of controlling his rage when playing video games. Which seemed so unnatural of Yunho, who was always calm and sweet, nice, and helpful to everyone. Not that I had known him for long, but the more time I spent with him, the quicker I realized that he truly is the way he portrays himself to be. I laughed as Yunho retold a story of him being so mad at losing a game that he scared his dog, which then jumped off the bed and got tangled in the wires, and almost completely destroyed Yunho’s TV. Well, I suppose Yunho learned not to rage in front of his dog after that day—if he wanted to keep his TV intact.

We had both long finished our respective drinks and as I had glanced down at my phone, I realized it was late—my mother would whoop my ass for staying out for so long. Hongjoong didn’t look too happy either as Yunho and I got ready to leave, and I threw an apologetic smile at him as Yunho stayed back for a few minutes. I stood in front of the store, waiting for Yunho, just enjoying the chilly air as the wind blew through the streets of the city.

“Okay, let’s go.” Yunho said once he joined me outside, smiling.

“Where do you live?” I asked, pushing my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

“Around.” Yunho’s answer was short and then he motioned down the sidewalk, “Let’s go, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to!” I squeaked, growing embarrassed all of a sudden, “I don’t want to bother you. It’s already late, your parents must be worried.”

“They certainly aren’t,” Yunho chuckled, leaning down to be eye level with me, “they are out on a date tonight and they aren’t coming back until late into the night. So, let’s go.”

“Oh,” I muttered, biting my bottom lip and before I could grab my skateboard, it was already in Yunho’s hands as he skipped down the sidewalk happily. I chuckled and followed after him, having to jog to actually catch up with his long strides, “You know, Yunho, not everyone was blessed with long legs like yours.”

Yunho’s ears turned red again as he instantly slowed down, scratching his nape, “Right, sorry. Sometimes I forget I’m tall and like—super quick too.”

“You’re like the Flash or something.” I teased with a chuckle, however, Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and he was suddenly pouting.

“The Flash?” He asked, sounding almost offended, “He’s not even that cool, Y/N.”

“Is he not?” I deadpanned, raising my eyebrows at Yunho.

“He really isn’t.” Yunho huffed, cheeks puffing out even more, making him look adorable despite him sulking.

“Well then, who do you think is cool, Yunho?” I asked, genuinely interested about his opinion.

“Spiderman, of course!” He exclaimed as if that were obvious, making me scoff.

“You don’t even know who the guy is.” I muttered, as we stopped at a red light.

“Do you know who the Flash is?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at me, and I huffed.

“Well, no, but—I don’t know, I’m new to the city. I don’t know anything about Spiderman, of course I’m biased towards someone else.” I ended up explaining my reasoning and Yunho just hummed as the red light turned green and we crossed the road.

“Well, let me help you out, then.” Yunho grinned and suddenly grabbed my jacket, steering me away from a lamppost. I chuckled in embarrassment and thanked him quietly before he could continue talking, “So, Spiderman is like—super cool, you know? He helps the city whenever something really bad happens. He like—you know—he makes order. Puts bad people in jail and saves innocent civilians. Also! He doesn’t just save people, he helps old people cross the road, rescues poor animals living on the streets, even feeds pigeons! And I’ve seen him once cleaning the windows of a really high building since everybody else refused to go up that high. And he takes pictures with children, you know? Shows up at the city’s fair and has never once turned down an invitation from the mayor to represent the good force of the city alongside with the cops, of course.”

As Yunho took a deep breath, having rushed all that out in one breath, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, having to press a hand against my mouth to muffle the sounds. I’ve never seen Yunho as passionate about something—except for video games—before, and as hilarious he looked with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pouting every few seconds—fuck, he was just as cute—so cute in fact, that I nearly tripped over nothing, but he was too lost in his excitement to notice, thankfully. Having slightly calmed down my heart, I glanced at Yunho, amused to see him clutching my skateboard against his chest, giving me a small glare.

“I’m sorry,” I said with a chuckle, clearing my throat, “You just sound an awful lot like you have a crush on Spiderman.”

Yunho scoffed, but he couldn’t fight the smile off his lips anymore, “Everyone has a crush on Spiderman, don’t you too?”

“I don’t know him well enough to have a crush on him just yet.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed for a split second.

“Yet, you say?”

“Yet, I say.”

And then I watched as Yunho turned the corner, skipping a few steps ahead as he led the way down my street, headed towards my house. I don’t think I remember having told him about where I live?

Yunho’s generosity seemed to be endless—and perhaps I was already starting to get used to, which, wasn’t exactly smart on my part. Yes, he was tall, handsome, boyish, and super cute with a personality of gold, but—was I sure my mother and I would actually settle down here? Was it really smart to start crushing on my classmate? Who I’m sure everyone in this damned high-school has a crush on, because he’s really just that nice and that sweet. Teachers love him, his peers admire him and want to be around him all the time, his friends are protective of him and—don’t like me, that’s now one hundred percent sure. Why? Well, because, I was just as baffled as they were this morning when upon entering the classroom, Yunho was out of his seat, completely abandoning the conversation he was having with San in order to approach me. I—of course, like a deer caught in headlights—froze in my spot, thus blocking the entrance to the classroom—making a guy almost run into me as he was on his phone, not paying attention to what was happening in front of him. But Yunho didn’t seem to mind my momentary shock as he grinned from ear to ear, his hair very fluffy as it was even wavier than yesterday, his outfit making me gulp before I managed to compose myself and force a smile onto my lips. He wore grey tech pants with a white shirt—top two butting undone—and a grey cardigan over it and—oh, he wore a fucking silver necklace at the base of his throat, that paired with his black rings for sure made me forget what planet Earth is for a second—or two—who knows, my brain wasn’t processing well at the moment.

And to render me even more speechless, Yunho draped an arm around my shoulders and completely nonchalantly veered me towards his friends. Choi San and Song Mingi. I saw the look on their faces—a mixture of surprise and well, disgust—but San was quick to mask it with a cordial smile, while Mingi—well, he didn’t, not that I expected him to do so. And then before either could say something, Yunho announced that he’d be sitting with me in our English literature class, making me stare at him in surprise—mirroring San and Mingi’s baffled expressions. Why did I have a feeling that right now I was their number one enemy? And then, to try and appease them, I bowed and muttered a quiet ‘sorry’, before Yunho was already walking us to my usual seat, making me lick my lips as I tried to ignore the sudden nerves engulfing my whole body. And what was worse, was the fact that I could feel Mingi’s glare boring into the back of my mind during the whole class, making me scared to look back when the teacher announced that we’d have to do a project with our seatmate. Which—to my delight, but poor overreactive heart—made Yunho so excited he almost knocked over my water bottle as he started animatedly explaining which book we should choose and why. Before the bell could even ring, Mingi was out the door with a loud scoff, and San was rolling his eyes as he slowly approached us, muttering something about Mingi overreacting—again.

Currently, however, we were in the canteen, trays in our hands full of food as Mingi lead the way, his form just as tall as Yunho’s, but shoulders a little broader than Yunho’s. Not that I have paid extra close attention to Yunho’s form or anything—you know. San and Yunho were having a heated debate whether the Yorkshire Terrier or Bull Terrier was cutest, making San whine about not wanting a puppy anymore because of Yunho—which was actually hilarious to hear as I saw zero to no similarities between the two breeds, except the fact that both were named Terriers.

“Just get a cat, oh, my God, San.” Mingi snapped loudly as he slammed his tray down against a table—smaller in size than the others and more at the back of the canteen—looking up with a small glare at San, “Can you two not argue for one second?”

“What’s got your panties in a twist today, Ming?” San chuckled, raising an eyebrow as I felt a little awkward while Yunho took a seat across from Mingi. San went to sit next to Yunho, and for a second, I considered excusing myself and just sitting by myself rather than having to sit next to Mingi knowing he’d rather die—or something—than sit next to me. But, to my rescue, Yunho cleared his throat and looked at San expectantly, who quickly got the memo and chuckled, “Right.”

Then he moved to sit next to Mingi and I gulped as I took my seat next to Yunho, feeling like I was intruding—which I probably was and as if Mingi had the same train of thought, he directed a quick glare at me.

“Didn’t know we’d have to mingle with others today, is all.” He answered San’s previous question and I gulped as I looked down, placing my hands in my lap.

“Okay, Mingi.” Yunho snapped, his tone harsh—and it was surprising, I’ve never heard him speak like that before, “We’re allowed to make new friends, are we not?”

Mingi scoffed and then stuffed his mouth with a spoonful of rice, “Yeah, with people who aren’t criminals.”

“Mingi, that’s enough.” It was San talking now, face hardened and eyebrows furrowed before he looked at me, expression softening, “We don’t even know her.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” I said with a sigh, about to grab my tray when suddenly Yunho’s hand grabbed mine, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He said, sounding quite authoritative and determined to keep me there, “Let’s play a game where we ignore Mingi, how’s that sound?”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, I really like the sound of that.” San said with a mischievous chuckle as he nudged Mingi in the side, making him roll his eyes before he wordlessly dug into his meal, going completely silent, “And at the same time I don’t like the sound of silence, so—how do you like it here, Y/N?”

I struggled to not choke on the spoonful of soup I had just taken into my mouth, a little surprised that one of Yunho’s best friends’ was addressing me directly, “Oh, I, uhm—it’s fine. I mean…the kids are nice here. Sort of.” The last part I only added in a quiet mutter, but Mingi heard it and chuckled, giving me a smirk that felt a little bit malicious. However, his expression quickly changed as he yelped, jumping in his seat before fixating his glare onto Yunho, eyes narrowing, but Yunho just continued eating like nothing happened.

“Yeah, we…weren’t the nicest, sorry about that.” San’s cheeks tinged pink as he lowered his head a little, “I was raised to know better than to judge someone so easily, so, I’d like to apologise.”

My eyes widened when San raised his head, eyes shining with sincerity and regret. I suddenly felt awkward—well, my day certainly was taking a turn for the—better? I couldn’t tell just yet. I chuckled, shaking my head as I tried to play off San’s apology, it wasn’t that big of a deal, really, “Don’t worry about it, I get it. But for the record—I have zero DNA that ties me to that evil fucker, in fact, I played the biggest part in his case as I had been victim to his—abuse.”

A tense silence fell upon the table and suddenly I gulped, feeling terrible for trauma dumping so much on these three guys. Well, if they thought they could end up liking me up until a few seconds ago, the certainly wouldn’t think so anymore. What a way to ruin something going well for myself for once. I cleared my throat, and averted my eyes when Mingi raised his head, his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes taking me in intensely. Yunho’s body emitted a lot of warmth next to me all of a sudden, and he sighed loudly, shooting a very displeased look towards his two friends, “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to force you to share anything you didn’t want—”

“I wanted you to know, though.” I found myself saying, biting my bottom lip nervously, “I don’t exactly care what the rumours say about me, but I feel angry when I hear people associate me with that monster. He’s a terrible man and he deserves to be locked up somewhere far away from society. He’s not my father and he would’ve never been, even if my mother did end up marrying him.”

“You’re really mature for someone our age.” San commented, lips stretched into a warm and friendly smile, “Not that we aren’t mature! Actually! I am the most mature one in our friend group, you know—”

“Like hell you are.” Mingi muttered before he averted his eyes, going back to eating his lunch.

“I am always the responsible one, looking out for these two idiots—” But San ignored Mingi and then pointed at the two tall best friends, “These two are always wreaking havoc, especially Yunho! He’s all sweet and so kind, but he’s really just hiding his mischievous side. One time, in eight grade, he broke our homeroom teacher car’s windshield and—”

“Okay, enough oversharing, San!” Yunho exclaimed alarmed, crossing his arms in front of his chest in an ‘X’ manner, making me laugh as I looked at him then back at San, who had his lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Remember Mingi, when he stole that manga for you from the corner bookstore?” San smirked, nudging Mingi lightly, who had a frighteningly similar smirk to San’s crossing his features as he looked up.

“Oh, I do. And remember when he absolutely destroyed Mrs. Kwan’s garden while riding his bike?”

“Enough, okay?!” Yunho exclaimed, his neck, ears, and cheeks flushed a deep red, eyebrows furrowed. I pressed a palm against my mouth, trying to muffle my bubbling laughter, but when San and Mingi simultaneously wiggled their eyebrows at Yunho, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I burst out laughing, slowly San—and surprisingly—Mingi joined us too while Yunho sulked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“It’s not funny!” He exclaimed, grabbing a chicken wing with his hand and biting into it, staring off to the side.

“Oh, this guy was an absolute rascal when we were younger.” Mingi said, still laughing as he threw a pickle towards Yunho, who frowned at him and quickly ate it. I chuckled, amused by the three. Okay, if they weren’t glaring and sending me displeased looks, San and Mingi could be really cool guys.

“Now I see why you’re so obsessed with Spiderman.” I said with a chuckle, grinning at Yunho as I turned my head to look at him. His cheeks were still red and his lips jutting out, he looked so adorable it was hard to hold myself back from squishing his cheeks. San’s laughter, however, very slowly died down and Mingi—surprisingly—choked on the bite he just took of his meal, having to grab his water bottle and drink in order soothe his coughs, “He’s everything you weren’t. Having him as a role model might turn you into a better man.”

“Hey!” Yunho scoffed, playfully pushing my shoulder, sending a very non-threatening glare at me, “Spiderman is just simply cool, okay? I don’t have a crush on him or anything, I just—are you saying I’m not a good person?”

“What?!” I asked alarmed, completely oblivious to the amused glances San and Mingi were exchanging between each other as Yunho narrowed his eyes at me, “I never said that! You’re—cool.”

“Like Spiderman.” Yunho added with a wink and I scoffed, going back to eating my—now—cold soup.

“I see you are acquittanced with Spiderman, then.” San mused, finally eating his meal as well, it must’ve gone cold by now. I nodded as I finished eating my soup, sneaking glances at Yunho as his attention suddenly was on the TV mounted on the wall a few feet away. His eyebrows were furrowed and so, I looked to see what was bothering him, only to be met with a pretty bad looking bank robbery. A dozen of police cars were in front of the bank and—oh, no, an armed man held someone at gunpoint. The sound was muted, but I could guess that the armed man was holding an innocent by-passer. It brought a sour taste into my mouth as I averted my eyes, skin crawling a little at the memory of my mother’s ex doing something similar, yet so much worse. Mingi and San seemed to notice Yunho’s shift in mood and both turned to look at the TV, sighing when they saw what Yunho was looking at.

“I swear to God,” Mingi started muttering, turning his head away, “There’s always something fucked up happening every other day in this city…”

“I know,” San muttered, crestfallen, “I can’t count how many times my parents planned on moving away somewhere safer.”

I gulped, hoping my mother wouldn’t want to do the same. We’ve barely been here for five days, but—I started liking it here. There was something about this place that wasn’t as awful as I initially expected it to be. Did Yunho play a part in that to make me think so?

“Hey, I—I have to go to the washroom, don’t wait for me.” Yunho sounded nervous as he scrambled out of his seat, gulping as he paused for a second, “I’ll see you all in class.”

“Are you okay?” I found myself asking before Yunho could rush off.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me!” His smile seemed forced and my eyebrows furrowed as he hurried away, towards the exit of the canteen, sprinting out of sight. My eyes went back to the TV just in time to see everyone crouched down as the armed man, no doubt, fired some shots.

“Hey, you don’t have to look at that.” San offered, voice soft, “We can change seats, if you want.”

“Oh—no, thank you.” My cheeks turned red as I averted my eyes, offering San a small smile, “And uh—thanks for letting me sit with you guys, I know you don’t like me much.”

“Well, we’ve got all year to get to know each other, right, Mingi?” San threw a pointed look at his best friend and I was surprised to find him humming absentmindedly, pushing around his food.

“He always does this,” Mingi sighed, sounding worried, “disappears randomly whenever something bad is happening in the city.”

“Yunho?” I found myself asking in a whisper, but neither heard me.

“I told you so many times you’re reading too much into it, he just probably needs to take a dump or something—” San paused, cheeks flushing as he eyed me, but I acted like I didn’t hear what he had just said. Boys will be boys, I guess, “Anyways, break ends in fifteen, let’s finish up.”

So then, Yunho disappears often? Is that what Mingi was alluding to? But where to? And why only when something bad is happening in the city?

“Yeah, whatever.” Mingi muttered, pushing his tray of food away, knocking it into Yunho’s. He eyed his best friend’s tray and then sighed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes went back to the TV. And because I couldn’t help myself, I looked back too and—there he was, Spiderman. Saving the day, apparently. I guess he really is a hero.

“Hey, Y/N,” San spoke up again, mouth stuffed with food, cheeks puffed out, “I’ve seen you reading manga in class. Mingi likes it too, did you know?”

My eyes widened as I turned my head back towards the two boys sitting across me and chuckled, a little embarrassed, I wasn’t a good liar, “Oh, I, uh, nope. I didn’t know. Wow, that’s so…cool!”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, looking suspicious, “Yeah, cool.”

“Yup, cool.” I chuckled and then shut up because I didn’t want to further embarrass myself.

And after we went to class, with Mingi sitting in the back with a rather gruff classmate of ours and San at the front with a guy I haven’t yet met, I got soon lost in my thoughts, eyes fixated on a vacant spot. Yunho’s usual spot. He hadn’t returned to class; half an hour had passed since he had gone to the washroom—that is if I actually believed he was at the washroom. It was less likely, but then again, why would he lie? And just as if my thoughts were synchronized with Yunho’s actions, the door was flung open and there he was, breathless, as he made his way inside.

“Sorry for being late!” He apologizes, plastering on a sheepish smile, “I—got caught up?”

The teacher narrowed her eyes for a second before muttering something and ushering Yunho towards his spot. I kept my eyes on him, taking him in as his clothes looked a little dishevelled and—was that a faint bruise on his cheek? But before I could dwell more about it, Yunho—probably having sensed my insistent stare—turned his head and smiled widely, his wavy hair falling in his chocolate brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat—stupid heart! And then, Yunho waved quickly and turned around before the teacher could chastise him for that too. God, why did he have to be so damn cute all the time?!

The first week in the big, new, city was slightly unnerving and overall, a very new feeling, however, despite that, I found myself enjoying it once I got accustomed to my surroundings. Of course, my mom won’t let me out after six o’clock in the afternoon due to the unsafety of the neighbourhood we live in, but the skatepark just two blocks down certainly is a nice stress reliever. School wasn’t too bad by the second week either, less people paid attention to me and whispered about me when I passed them in the hallways, and—besides the fact that Yunho seems to never want to stay away from me for too long—which is freaking cute and certainly so very bad as I have the fattest crush on him—by now, even San and Mingi have started warming up to me. Of course, Mingi still remains his unimpressed and emotionless self—unless Yunho is there with us—but I did manage to make him crack a smile here and there—mostly when we are talking about our favourite mangas and such. San, on the other hand, is a completely different story. After Yunho left me with him and Mingi in the canteen—you know, when he mysteriously disappeared for half an hour while there was a bank robbery going on—ever since then, San has been very happy each time the boys would hang out with me. And what was even more surprising, is that he sought out my company when he was on his own—mostly bored—and so very eager to tell me every and each cool story he manages to remember about Yunho, or himself, sometimes even Mingi. San is actually quite good at diffusing the tension created by Mingi, and he is even better at talking for hours on end without realising that Yunho—and I—have gotten tired of hearing his voice so often. But do not misunderstand, Yunho absolutely adores San, and I also happen to quite like him. He’s sweet, but fierce and unapologetically honest. Much like Mingi, which makes me think they are Yunho’s closest friends because he is too nice for his own good and would get taken advantage of if it weren’t for the two hounding him like some sort of guardians or something.

As I clutched my phone in my left hand, rolling a pencil around in my right one, I froze for a second as I heard footsteps outside of my room, down the hallway. My door was closed as I was studying—well, actually, it’s just an excuse to be able to be on my phone without my mother seeing me every time she passes by my room. However, I halted my movements as shuffling came from right outside my door, and I panickedly tried to hide my phone underneath the two textbooks and three notebooks I had laying on my desk, pretending to be super confused about the equation I had to solve, as I started pouting just as my mother opened my door.

“Hey,” She called with a smile, making me put on my best clueless act, “how’s studying going?”

“Ugh, I hate maths.” I groaned and threw my pencil on the desk as I leaned back in my seat, “Can’t I just go to the skatepark? Please, mom.”

“Honey,” My mother chuckled, leaning against the doorway with an amused grin on her lips, “that skatepark isn’t going anywhere, however, if you fail your maths class…you might have to transfer to a new school—”

“No!” I didn’t mean to shout as I shoot up straight in my chair, blushing furiously as my mother raised her eyebrows at me. God dammit, this stupid crush I have on Yunho has me acting up—even though changing high-schools does sound awful. I’ve barely been at this one for two weeks, I can’t be changing schools so soon.

“Well, if you don’t want to fail, you know what to do.” My mother said with a chuckle as I tried to hide my blush. My eyes widened when my phone started buzzing underneath all the notebooks and textbooks. God, Yunho, texting back right now isn’t the smartest idea! But of course, he can’t know that my mother is standing in my doorway, under the impression that her daughter it studying her ass off, “Dinner’s ready in an hour.”

“Cool, I’ll join you once I’ve finished this exercise.” I shot my mom a quick smile, trying not to grimace as my phone buzzed again.

“Sure,” She snorted and pushed off the doorway, gripping the doorknob as she stepped out in the hallway, “giving me your phone would make you more productive, though.”

“What phone?” I forced on a grin that showed off all my teeth, making my mother shake her head at me as she left the room, closing my door behind her. I slumped in my chair and reached for my phone, clumsily pulling it out from underneath all of my things while creating a mess—nothing new—my room is always a mess, especially my desk. But as I went to check the messages Yunho had sent, there was a soft tapping against my window, and when I turned my head to look outside—I almost screamed.

I managed to just barely muffle it by pressing my hand against my gaping mouth as freaking Spiderman hung upside down outside my window, head tilted to the side. I took a second to digest the fact that the spider, but human like, creature was right there, waving at me and no doubt smiling as I saw the mask move underneath where his mouth is. I huffed and stood, patting my chest as my heart raced furiously against my ribcage, having been scared shitless by this Spiderman guy. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards, opening it up for him. I watched as the web string he had hung on broke as he did a flip, landing on his two long feet. I froze a little as Spiderman leaned in, resting both elbows in the windowsill, placing his chin on his palm.

“Hi.” His voice was slightly altered again, and I cleared my throat, aware that I was wearing my worst possible clothes. I wasn’t expecting visitors—let alone Spiderman, “You look like you saw a ghost or something.”

“Well, yeah,” I scoffed, smoothing down my hair, “not a ghost, but a man that calls himself a spider. Ringing the front door next time would be less heart attack inducing, Mr. Spiderman.”

I didn’t expect the dude to laugh loudly, and my eyes widened as I reached forward, pressing my hand against his masked mouth to muffle the sounds he made—if my mother hears him, she’ll come to investigate, and I’m pretty sure she won’t be too happy to find a masked man in a full body costume outside my window, claiming to be some sort of hero of the city or something. My mother has never liked these superhero kind of things.

“Yeah, don’t call me Mr. Spiderman, please, it’s really cringey.” The spidey boy shivered and I chuckled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Why? Aren’t you a man? Why would you call yourself Spiderman if you’re not a man?” The guy remained silent for a second before he started giggling, the voice modulator not doing a very good job at altering his voice. And for a second—but just for a second—I thought it sounded like Yunho’s giggles.

“I’m a man, well…almost a man.” Spiderman paused and I gave him a confused look, “I’m only eighteen, so not quite a man just yet.”

“You’re eighteen?!” I exclaimed, glancing back to make sure my mother wouldn’t come in like a bulldozer.

“Too old for you?” Spiderman asked with a chuckle, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I swear I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You’re the same age as me, dipshit.” I scoffed, leaning away from the window.

“Well, that’s certainly a special way to express your gratitude to the man that’s saved you once.” I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes from the guy that was standing outside my window.

“So, do you stalk every person you manage to save?” I instead asked, trying to dodge the fact that I should be apologising for the not so nice thing I called him.

“I’m not stalking you.” He chuckled, and then pushed himself away from the windowsill, “I’m just here to make sure you’re okay—and that you’re doing your maths homework—”

“Hey!” My eyes widened as I quickly glanced at my desk, “Were you eavesdropping too?”

“Maybe?” Spiderman sounded almost embarrassed as he scratched the back of his neck, and I narrowed my eyes at him as I scoffed.

“Well, spidey boy, as you can see, I am doing just fine.” I raised my arms and did a mocking twirl for him, then placed my hands on my hips as I gave him a deadpanned look, “Anything else that I can satisfy your creepy needs with?”

“I’m not creepy!” He exclaimed quickly, making me scoff, “Okay, fine, whatever. Coming to your window maybe wasn’t very smart, but I—uh, well, do you trust me?”

“No?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him as if he were crazy. Spiderman heaved a loud and long sigh and then extended a hand towards me, through the open window. I crooked an eyebrow at him curiously.

“I want to show you something.” His voice was soft, the voice modulator failed to do its job again, and I found his voice to be—soothing, warm. I gulped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I promise you’re safe with me. I saved you once, and I’ll do it as many times I have to.”

“That very weirdly sounds like it could be a love confession, Spiderman.” I said mockingly, but found my legs carrying me closer towards him. I glanced down at my phone to check the clock, and was surprised to see that in half an hour it would be six, “My curfew is at six, though, because of the neighbourhood and my mother not trusting the people yadda-yadda-yadda, so, we have to be back before six.”

“Yeah, that’s totally cool!” Spiderman clapped his hands together, sounding very excited. I chuckled and threw my phone on my bed, chewing my on my bottom lip when I realized I still haven’t texted Yunho back. I shouldn’t make him wait— “Are you coming, then?”

I looked back at Spiderman and took a deep breath—I’m sure Yunho will understand why I didn’t text back right away, I mean, I’m literally about to be kidnapped by Spiderman or whatever—okay, I do hope it’s not actually a kidnapping.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I accepted his extended hand, finding his costume soft to the touch. The white stripes that created the illusion of web on his costume were rougher to the touch, and I tried not to stumble as I climbed through my window, closing it so it wouldn’t look like I had climbed through it. Not that it would matter, if my mother comes inside my room while I’m not here, she’ll call the police in milliseconds.

“It’s a surprise.” Spiderman said cheekily, and his weird black eye winked at me, making me give him a disgusted look, “What?”

“Your eyes are—freaky.” I muttered as I released his hand, patting my clothes down. I adjusted the flannel shirt around my shoulders as they threatened to slip down them.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/N—” Spiderman froze and I did too as we stood staring at each other in silence. Well, I have never told him my name before. Just like I hadn’t told Yunho where I lived when he walked me home the first time from the skatepark.

“It seems like you’re full of surprises too, Spiderman.” I pursed my lips and he cleared his throat, scratching his nape, no doubt feeling awkward.

“Anyways, let’s go.” He extended his hand once again and I chewed on my bottom lip as I weighted my options. To be fair, there’s only two outcomes to this if I leave with him right now. One, he shows me this super awesome surprise, and it’ll be a memory to hold onto. Two, he fucking murders me.

I took a tiny step forward and slipped my hand slowly in his, just now noticing how long and thin his fingers were as they were covered by the red fabric of his costume. I truly hope to God the second option I have in mind doesn’t come to fruition. I might be dead as fuck, but my mother will make sure to kill me twice!

“So, uhm, you, uh, have to hold onto me.” Spiderman was suddenly stammering all over himself, and I narrowed my eyes as I stepped a little closer, allowing this spider boy to sloth his fingers through mine, “Yeah, you have to come a lot closer, actually.”

“Does this usually work?” I asked, stepping in front of him, barely a few inches between us. Jesus Christ, this dude is super tall?! I have to crane my neck to look up at him; his height scarily reminds me of Yunho’s. Not that I have had the chance to stand this close to Yunho before, but his and Mingi’s heights can be quite intimidating at times—especially if Mingi is glaring at you, looking like he wishes your soul would perish right in front of his very eyes. Not cool, nor fun!

“What’s supposed to work?” Spiderman asked, sounding confused.

“Well, this is how you pick up girls, no?” I raised my eyebrows, and I swear to God, Spiderman sputtered for a second.

“No! I—I’ve never done this before!” A small pause, and then more stammering, “I mean—I have! Like, wait, not picking up girls—I’m not doing this to pick you up! However, the thing I’m about to do, yeah, I do it every time I have the suit on. It would be concerning if I didn’t, actually.”

“I’m confused.” I muttered, staring at Spiderman’s broad chest. Jesus, this guy is well doted, alright.

“Whatever, just—hold onto me, tightly.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up at Spiderman, only to find him already looking down at me. I sighed and took a second to figure out how to hold onto him while also keeping my distance, and so, I grabbed his shoulders with both hands, gripping it tightly. Spiderman didn’t move just yet, but then I felt his left arm around my middle, pulling me into his body. I tensed and tried to ignore the way my heart started beating fast, a little bit surprised by how warm spidey boy felt against my own body.

And then, without zero fucking preparation, Spiderman released—better said, shot—web from his right wrist—God, I really hope this dude doesn’t actually release these things from his body—and I followed with my eyes the trajectory of the web. And then, I gulped, mouth falling open quickly as Spiderman tested the durability of the web by tugging on it a few times, and then, he threw me a quick glance before he jumped. He jumped up and then—he never fucking made it back to the ground. We didn’t make it back to the ground! I gasped loudly as Spiderman’s arm tightened even more around my middle, our bodies swinging in the fucking air.

And to be fair, if spider boy loses his hearing, it’s not my fault. I didn’t even realize I had started shrieking as Spiderman shot another web from his wrist—ew—the one currently holding us snapping in two, falling to the ground. Consequently, we were free-falling in the air for a second, until our bodies were violently yanked forward again, Spiderman’s web finding the wall of another building. And I was still shrieking—right into his ear—to make matters better.

Spiderman’s hearing after our little escapade? Positively gone.

But hearing his quiet giggle somehow helped in making me shut up after another long minute of me screaming my ass off, heart hammering wildly against my chest. This was not fun! I wanted to go back home! I wanted to—oh, no. I instantly felt nauseous as I made the grave mistake of looking down past Spiderman’s shoulders, coming to the realization that we were up in the air—high up in the air! And I have Acrophobia! I squeaked like a helpless mouse as suddenly I started sweating profusely, fingers digging into Spiderman’s shoulders until I found my arms slipping further up, circling his neck as I clung onto him tightly, our bodies pressed together almost painfully tight. My hands shook as I forced my legs to raise and wrap around his waist, hooking them together behind his ass, squeezing the living shit out of his hips with my thighs. This wasn’t fun! I wasn’t enjoying this! I really really don’t like this surprise and I want to go home right now! On the ground! On my feet! Where it’s safe and I won’t be falling to my death—oh God, stop thinking about that right now!

“I have Acrophobia, you dipshit!” I found myself screaming over the wind blowing in our faces, the sounds of the city underneath us loud and making me squeeze my eyes shut as freaking birds started flying next to us. What the fuck!?

“Oh, fuck.” I heard Spiderman hiss to himself and I wanted to say, ‘yeah, oh fuck, you idiot!’, but I was frozen from fear, and couldn’t help but scream as the feeling of falling down returned, fingers—probably painfully—digging into the back of Spiderman’s head. I hope I yank on his baby hair strong enough to have him squirming in pain—wait, maybe that’s not so smart while we’re literally swinging around above the city and clinging onto some magic web or something! For a second, there was the feeling of free falling again, and then—nothing. The wind wasn’t blowing in our faces anymore, and we weren’t swinging left to right anymore either. Everything stood still around us, cars honking loudly underneath us, and rap music blasting from somewhere—we weren’t dead, right?!

I came to realize my breathing was ragged—now that we were stationary and I could actually think—and that my arms and hands were shaking uncontrollably, my whole body flushed against Spiderman’s as if I wished to become one with him. If that’s what keeps me alive while we swing above the city, we better morph into one person or something! I was too scared to open my eyes, and my muscles tensed even more when I felt two big hands run up and down my back.

“Hey, we’ve landed. You’re not in the air anymore, Y/N.” Spiderman spoke softly, and I felt him turn his head, but I only lowered mine and pressed it against his suited neck. I heard him release a small gasp as I gulped hard, trying to calm my nerves, and fight off a panic attack, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were scared of heights.”

“I need a second.” I found my voice as I croaked that out, trying to flex my fingers as they started cramping by how hard I was holding onto Spiderman.

“I can give you three more, if that’s what you need.” I felt Spiderman’s fingers tangle into my untamed hair as he tried to smooth down the wild strands, and I felt my cheeks flush. God, that’s embarrassing now.

“What I need—” I snapped, managing to detach myself from his neck finally, “is to kick your loser ass!”

And then I pried myself off his body and pulled my right fist back to swing it at his bicep. However, to my dismay, he didn’t even as much as flinch, only snorted, “I’ll break your nose if you laugh at me again! I literally have a phobia of heights and you go on and take me on a swing or whatever above the freaking city?! I’m going home—you’ve got to be kidding me.”

But finally taking a look around, realising the whereabouts of our location, I realized Spiderman landed us on a rooftop of a freaking tall building. I swung my fist at his chest this time, “Hey, hey, sorry, I didn’t know! Stop hitting me, Y/N, it tickles—”

“Tickles?!” I exclaimed and gave him a furious look as Spiderman awkwardly scrapped at his nape, angling his head downwards, “I just told you I almost died in your arms, and you tell me my punches tickle?!”

“No, no,” Spiderman suddenly rolled back his shoulders, clutching the bicep I’ve punched a minute ago, “your punches are so strong it could take down even Dr Octopus! I can’t feel my arm anymore.”

“Take down who?” My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Spiderman, watching his fake act of being hurt as he clutched his arm as if it was about to fall off. Now he was just plainly mocking me.

“Nevermind—I’m sorry, I should have asked if you had a fear of heights first, before I took you here.” Spiderman mumbled as he scratched the back of his head, shuffling on his feet.

“Yeah, uhm, so, what are we doing here?” I asked as I circled my arms around my middle.

“Well, I wanted to show you the view but that’s not possible anymore.” He answered with a sigh, and he sounded quite defeated. I licked my lips and made sure to keep my eyes on the rooftop’s ground instead of looking around. I would pass out surely, and my hands are still trembling, my heart beating fast.

“Is this spot significant or something?” I mumbled as I kicked at nothing in particular.

“Yeah, when I’m stressed or worried, I come here to clear my mind.” Spiderman answered, walking to the edge of the rooftop. My heart did a somersault until I remembered literally nothing can happen to him, he sticks to things like a real spider—freaky.

“So, what’s got your stressed or worried right now?” I found myself asking as I crouched down, a little nauseated when Spiderman leaned over the edge, staring down at the bustling city underneath us. The people on the streets, the honking cars and music coming from down the street created a disturbing cacophony up here, but down there, it never sounded this messy.

“Nothing, I just wished to show you this place.”

“Why?” I asked as I looked up, finding him already looking at me. His eyes blinked, a feature of his mask I wished he didn’t have. It was weird, I didn’t like it.

“No particular reason.” Spiderman answered after he cleared his throat, however it didn’t sound sincere. He averted his eyes as he turned around and sat down on the ledge, swinging his legs over. I inhaled sharply, palms balling up into fists at his actions. I had to remind himself that he literally can’t die even if the wind pushes him over. Me—on the other hand—can and would one hundred percent die. And so, I found myself on my knees and hands as I slowly crawled towards him, trying to regulate my breaths as my heart started hammering in my chest again. As Spiderman heard movement, he tuned his head abruptly.

“What are you doing?” He sounded amused as he asked, looking down at me with his freaky blinking black mask eyes.

“I’m joining you without actually joining you.” I muttered as I reached the ledge, thankfully the brick wall reached up to one’s waist and I couldn’t see down as I sat down, turning my back to the ledge, and leaning against the cold structure. Spiderman’s eyes remained on me as I hugged my knees to my chest before I looked up at him, “Well, I’m sure the view is pretty.”

“Yeah, it is.” He whispered; eyes boring into mine. I gulped, something stirring in my stomach. I seriously am not about to develop a stupid crush on Spiderman too, right?! That would be freaking embarrassing. I already have a crush on Yunho and it’s more than enough—in fact, it’s fucking mortifying, because how am I supposed to act normal when I’m around him, and all I want to do is get lost in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes and listen to his soft voice all day long while demanding him to engulf me in his warm arms, swallow me up against his broad chest?! I have to stop thinking about Yunho right now—or whenever I feel my mind slipping into delusion land.

“So, Spiderman, what’s your story?” I raised my eyebrows at him, chuckling as Yunho came to mind again despite my efforts, “I have a friend who’s in love with you—”

“He’s not—” Spiderman cleared his throat, patting his chest, “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Right,” I narrowed my eyes at the guy and he swiftly turned his head away, looking down at the city, “so, I have this friend who really likes you—even has a Spiderman phone case—and I’m just curious to hear your story. You know, from someone who’s not a die-hard fan and sugarcoats things.”

“There’s no big story, to be honest.” Spiderman shrugged, fiddling with his fingers in his lap—Yunho often does that when he’s nervous, “I try to keep the order in the city and help the innocent, and those in need. It took the police some time until they started trusting me and liking me, but things aren’t as chaotic as they were before.”

“But, wait.” My eyebrows furrowed as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “If you’re eighteen now, for how long have you been Spiderman? Assuming that you weren’t born like this…?”

“It’s almost scary how much you know about me.” Spiderman teased and I huffed, rolling my eyes, “I’ve been Spiderman ever since I turned sixteen.”

“Wow.” I muttered, looking back up at the guy. He’s been putting his life on the line for two years now, that’s really selfless. Perhaps I can see why Yunho admires him so much, “Are you ever scared? That you’ll get really hurt or something. Does anyone know your real identity?”

“Yes, I do get scared, and yes, the guy who I grew up with knows about my identity.” The guy answered, placing his hands on both sides of his thighs as he started swinging his legs, “I can’t tell many people though, and that was really hard at the beginning. I hate lying, can’t lie well either if I’m being honest, and it just feels wrong to keep secrets from the people closest to me. However, it ensures their safety, so, at the same time I don’t mind keeping it from them.”

“For an eighteen-year-old dude,” I chuckled, leaning my head back against the brick wall, “you are quite mature.”

“Well, when you chase and fight criminals daily, you are forced to mature early.”

“Did you want to become like this? Turn into Spiderman?”

“No, my high-school was visiting a lab and a spider that was genetically mutated bit me.” Spiderman’s voice was quiet, and he sighed loudly soon after, “In case you’re wondering, I don’t regret it. I love being Spiderman even if at times I have to bring sacrifices.”

“Yeah, that’s unpleasant.” I muttered, resting my chin on my knees. I knew what it meant to bring sacrifices for those you loved, and it almost always wasn’t by your choice, but something you just had to do. Ugh, not me suddenly turning bitter and nostalgic. Spiderman coughed shortly, and I felt fingers in my hair. I tensed for a second, but then his long fingers were out of my hair the following second.

“You had a bug in your hair.” Spiderman explained and I hummed, turning my head to rest my right cheek on my knees so that I could look up at him, “What about you, Y/N, what’s your story?”

I chuckled, averting my eyes as I pursed my lips, “It’s not as noble as yours, that’s for sure, spidey boy.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, there’s just my mom and I around, and we’ve moved to the city two weeks ago.” I sighed, closing my eyes as the evening breeze picked up, it wasn’t warm, but at least it wasn’t too cold just yet, “My father abandoned us a month before I was born, so my mom raised me up all alone with her mother’s help sometimes. She had her fair share of questionable partners, but they were never as evil as her last ex-fiancé.

“The guy was a criminal, he murdered three people and then tried to blame it on being so crazily in love with my mother that he wasn’t completely sane anymore. It was fucking comical; I hate that piece of shit. He’s threatened me numerous times and would throw me around the house when mom wasn’t around, saying how I’d end up six feet under if I didn’t keep my mouth shut about it.

“He never liked me for some reason, always claimed my mom focused more on me than on him—the fucking idiot. He has hit me a few times, and once my mother finally noticed, she tried to leave him, but he threatened to kill us. It was crazy, absolute madness, trying to get away from him—until the police came knocking on our door one night, claiming that they were there to arrest my mom’s ex for murder. The whole town was freaking shook, us included.”

Well, and that’s on trauma dumping, I guess. But he asked, after all, and I just told Mr. Spidey my story. It felt nice letting someone know about my past, however, it didn’t exactly feel right that I said all that to a stranger. I always thought Yunho would be the first person to find out about the whole story behind our recent move.

I gulped, feeling slightly guilty for having told all that to Spiderman, and I jumped when I felt fingers touching my cheek. I blinked my eyes open, finding Spiderman on his knees as he was leaned over, down towards me, fingers gently pressing against my cheek, “Nothing like that will ever again happen to you, Y/N, I promise. As long as I live, I promise to protect you.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I raised my head up from my knees, Spiderman’s warm hand cupping my face, “You don’t even know me, Spiderman.”

“I know enough.” He whispered and I gulped, heart beating fast as we gazed into each other’s eyes, his black mask unblinking for once. My lips parted and I shivered as the breeze turned stronger, Spiderman’s thumb gently rubbing my chin. It felt like I couldn’t look away, like the gap was slowly closing between us—until an alarm went off blaring, making both of us jump. Spiderman was up on his feet in a second, looking down at his wrist watch.

“Well, your curfew starts in ten minutes.” His voice was a little hoarse and he quickly cleared his throat, “We should head back if we don’t want your mom freaking out.”

“I’m not swinging around in your arms above the city again, Spidey!” I snapped, giving him a pointed glare as he jumped off the ledge, crouching down in front of me.

“The closest station is a five-minute walk away from here and the bus won’t come for another ten minutes. If I count correctly, that’s past your curfew, and there’s no direct bus to your neighbourhood from here.” Spiderman sounded smug as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Where even are we?”

“The east end of the city—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. That’s a fourteen-minute ride by bus! My mom is so going to kill me tonight.

“Just hold on tight, and I promise not to drop you—”

“That’s not funny!” I snapped as I shakily stood, glaring at Spiderman. But he just chuckled, clearly amused.

“You were like a koala when we came here, it was cute.”

“Shut up.” I grumbled, trying to ignore the way my cheeks flushed when Spiderman opened his arms for me. This is the first and last time he carries me around the city like this.

Spiderman didn’t show up again at my window to whisk me away for a—swing? —maybe he was just too embarrassed to show his face again. Well, masked face. Admittedly, there’s been only three days since I was visited by the superhero, randomly on a Tuesday afternoon, and trust for me to brag all about it to Yunho. Not that I was mocking him—maybe a little bit—about getting to meet his superhero in person before he did, it’s just that it was funny seeing his reactions as I retold everything to him. He seemed to be even more excited when he heard it in person, as I had called him the second I got home from the outing. Now, school was finally over and I could go home and sleep. The city was buzzing with life last night and the police raided our street around midnight, talk about a man having escaped form an asylum spread around fast. Apparently, the man had been hiding in the basement of one of my neighbour’s houses’. Creepy. Spiderman, surprisingly, didn’t show up, but I suppose it wasn’t necessarily an emergency as it wasn’t a very dangerous person. Besides, I think Spiderman also needs his beauty sleep—like us, mere mortals do.

I stretched as we walked through the gates of the high-school, greeting the groundkeeper as he shot us a look since San was cackling loudly as he watched a video on his phone, volume cranked up to the maximum. Mingi had his arm thrown around Yunho’s shoulders, lips pursed as he watched some younger girls run past them while giggling and shooting them stares.

“Do you think Bomi will finally ask me out?” Mingi mused quietly, turning his head to stare at the long-haired girl that had just passed by with her friends.

“Don’t know, have you finally spoken to each other?” Yunho raised his eyebrows at his best friend, expertly grabbing the strap of my backpack as he halted my steps, yanking me backwards and out of the way of a speeding bike.

“Jesus.” I hissed, clutching my skateboard to my chest, “What an idiot—”

“Hey, watch it, you!” San shouted after the guy, who was already at the end of the street, “You could run over someone!”

“Nice reflexes.” Mingi teased, and detached himself from his friend at last. I gulped and turned to thank Yunho; my cheeks flushed pink. Well, that was embarrassing, but it could’ve ended a lot worse.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Yunho’s smile was soft and warm, and I gulped, averting my eyes quickly. But fucking hell, Mingi and I made eye contact, and he narrowed his eyes at me. That dude is onto something and I don’t like how easily he can see right through me.

“We haven’t spoken to each other yet…” Mingi casually continued the conversation he was having with Yunho, deep voice trailing off.

San chuckled amused, finally stopping the video on his phone as he raised his head, “Well, then, what are you expecting? She won’t ask you out if you don’t talk to her—wait, why are you sure she’s into you? She could be into me, or even Yunho.”

I pursed my lips, totally not feeling jealous over the fact that other living people could have a crush on Yunho! And let’s be real, who the hell wouldn’t have a crush on freaking Yunho?! He’s basically—perfect!

“You underestimate my awesomeness, San.” Mingi huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “And she’s not into you, you’re too short.”

“Hey, I’m not short!” San exclaimed offended, then looked at me with round eyes, “I’m not short, right?!”

“Of course not.” I chuckled, smiling at him, “It’s Mingi who’s too tall.”

“Says the midget.” Mingi scoffed, throwing me a glare. Will this dude ever like me?

“Okay, let’s stop shaming each other for our heights—or anything else, actually.” Yunho, always the peacemaker, grinned as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulder once, and then draped his long arm around my own shoulders, making my heart somersault in my chest.

“We’ll talk about this more later,” San said, eyes narrowed, “I have to catch my bus now, see ya!”

And with a wave, he ran off, totally in the complete opposite of where his bus stop was. I watched on as he caught up with a guy from our class, I have finally learned his name—Jung Wooyoung—and the two hugged briefly as San grabbed the guy’s arm and started yanking him towards the metro station. Yeah, they certainly weren’t headed home.

“Are you coming over?” I focused back on the two tall best friends, Mingi’s voice quiet as he looked at Yunho. I knew the offer didn’t stand for me as well, Mingi would never invite me over to his place.

“Not today.” Yunho had an apologetic look on his face, and then he squeezed my shoulder, “I’ve got something else to do.”

“Asshole,” Mingi whispered with a pout as a black car pulled up next to us, “see you two tomorrow, then.”

“Stop being so dramatic, you know I love you.” Yunho managed to ruffle Mingi’s hair before he got in the car, making Mingi scoff as a smile blossomed on his face.

“Yeah, whatever, love you too.” And then he opened the door and sat inside, but he didn’t close the door until the threw me a look that made me gulp. What did I do to make this guy dislike me so much?! At this point, I have given up, there’s no point in trying to decipher the riddle that Song Mingi is.

Suddenly, super aware that Yunho and I were alone now as the black car drove off, I gulped and clutched my skateboard just a little tighter. I took a peek at Yunho, and he was already looking down at me with a small smile, “So, do you want to go home right away?”

“Depends, why?” I asked quietly, praying to God my face wouldn’t turn into a tomato as Yunho slightly leaned down, closer to my face.

“There’s a really nice park not even ten minutes away from here, wanna go?” Of course, I want to go, Jeong Yunho.

“Sure.” I nodded, smiling back at him, face burning. Great, only a blind man would be oblivious to the fat-ass crush I have on Yunho at this point! It’s so embarrassing, but I can’t help it when he looks so—cute!

“See that convenience store there?” He turned his head and pointed at the store, which was just down the road. I nodded, and looked at him with a questioning gaze, “Race you there!”

And before I could fully register what he said, Yunho released me and took off in a sprint towards the convenience store. My mouth opened in surprise and I blinked, finally somehow realizing we were competing to see who gets there first. But with Yunho having a head start, I grinned and dropped my skateboard onto the ground. I quickly pushed off and gained more speed as I manoeuvred between the people on the sidewalk, grinning from ear to ear as I started gaining on Yunho. He’s really fast, but it shouldn’t be so surprising as I have seen him in P.E. class already, and he’s one of the best athletes I know. He’s agile and super-fast, he has good reflexes, and is a total team player. The guys love picking him in their team when they are playing football. I giggled as I came up just behind Yunho, pushing harder as my foot hit the pavement, the wind whipping my hair in my face for a second as the store came into view. We were almost there. I did an ollie to jump over the top of a drain, managing to come up a little ahead of Yunho. I laughed as I rolled forward, just barely making it to the convenience store first. I did a small spin and then set my foot down, coming to a stop as Yunho reached me. He was breathing hard as he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. I grinned at him, and gripped the foot of my skateboard, reaching out to ruffle his fluffy greyish-greenish-blueish hair. I have never done that before, and for a second, I panicked, but Yunho didn’t react badly to my action, he just smiled and shook his head.

“I didn’t think I’d lose.” He said with a laugh and then stood up straight, running his long fingers through his hair. He wore more rings today, and one looked suspiciously like a ring I have seen Mingi wear before.

“You can’t win at everything, Yunho.” I stuck my tongue out playfully before I turned to walk inside the convenience store, “I’ve never met a more competitive person than you are.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” Yunho chuckled as he followed closely behind me, looking at the shelves as we went down the snack aisle, “But you can’t say it wasn’t fun.”

“It was.” I looked over my shoulder with a grin as Yunho grabbed some potato chips off a high shelf, “But next time give me a warning, I only got lucky because I had my skateboard with me. You didn’t play fairly.”

Yunho chuckled and I grabbed some salty crackers, “Sometimes we need the element of surprise, Y/N, in order to excel.”

“Aha, so now you’re saying you knew I would win if you didn’t warn me first?” I raised an eyebrow at him, making Yunho chuckle as he grabbed my shoulder and veered me towards the fridges in the back.

“I knew you’d win.” He muttered and I tried not to blush—again—as I opened the fridge and grabbed some Sprite, while Yunho grabbed a larger bottle of water, leaning over me to retrieve it and—yeah, I tried not to pass out as I felt his breath hit the top of my head, his warmth radiating off him due to our closeness. However, the moment was over as quickly as it came.

Thankfully, I still had the money my mother gave me last week, otherwise it’d be really embarrassing to have Yunho buy something for me again. Well, technically, last time neither one of us paid for it at Hongjoong’s store, but still. I didn’t want him paying for my things, I’d feel like I owe it to him now.

We approached the front desk and the clerk looked very bored and done with us as he gave us a glare—similar to Mingi’s, and it made snort quietly—as he scanned our items. I had pulled the money out of the front pocket of my backpack as the clerk told us our total, and I was totally handing him the amount I had to pay for, when Yunho pushed my wrist to the side and placed the whole sum on the counter. I opened my mouth to clearly argue with him, but he grabbed our items and grinned so widely I feared it would be the reason why I’d go blind—and not from the fact that I’ve been trying to look into the sun for ages now without squinting my eyes, not too smart, but I never claimed to be smart. I muttered a goodbye to the clerk as Yunho pushed the door open for me and stepped outside to make enough space for me to pass through the narrow doorway.

“Let me carry my things.” I said as the door closed behind us, but Yunho just shook his head.

“You have to carry your skateboard, don’t fret about it.” My eyebrows furrowed as he took off towards the park he had mention, I could see it from here. It was just a little up ahead of us, to the right, between three buildings.

“I’ll give you my part of the sum when we have sat down.” I said as I tried to keep up with his long strides—damn his long legs, God has favourites, and as much as Yunho is one of his favourites, I certainly am not.

“Nah, you don’t have to.” Yunho grinned, and I noticed a gummy worm hanging out from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, I do.” I huffed, walking towards the gate of the park, “And where’d you get that gummy from?”

“From here.” And he pointed at the pocket of his suit jacket—who the hell wears a suit jacket to school, good lord it’s so hot when Yunho wears it, I seriously had trouble focusing all day long because of it. I reached my hand out and stole a gummy worm from his pocket, giggling as I made disgusting slurping noises as I put it in my mouth, and sucked it in in one go. Yunho’s eyebrows raised before he burst out into deep giggles, throwing his head back a little—and I choked, almost. I coughed as the gummy worm almost managed to slip down my throat, but I saved it somehow last minute. Eating gummy worms around Jeong Yunho is dangerous, noted.

“Why was that kind of cute?” Yunho asked with a chuckle as he chose a spot to sit, underneath a tall tree, offering us enough shade from the, now, not so hot sun. I placed my skateboard down, and followed Yunho as he plopped down, the sound of his butt colliding with the grass making me snort. He looked up at me with a pout and then grabbed my arm and pulled me down, almost making me fall into his freaking lap. It didn’t even take a second for my cheeks to turn pink, and I threw Yunho a small glare as I regained my balance and sat down next to him, mirroring his position. Our backs were leaning against the tree, legs splayed out long in front of us as I took my crackers and Sprite from Yunho.

“What was cute?” I asked as I opened the bag of crackers, desperate to wash away the extra sweet taste that remained in my mouth due to the gummy worm.

“You,” Yunho muttered, opening his water bottle, “and the sound you made. You’re funny.”

“I didn’t think you’d find me acting like an Ogre cute, but thank you, I guess.” My comment made Yunho laugh hard again as he threw his head back, prompting me to giggle along. His laughter was contagious, and I realized my stomach was coiling tightly—and not due to the sweets and unhealthy food I have digested so far today. It was because of Yunho, and because all I want to do right now is to lean up and press a kiss against his cheek. God dammit.

“You’d make a cute Ogre.” Yunho mused once he had calmed down, then took a sip of his water.

“Please,” I playfully rolled my eyes, popping another salty cracker into my mouth, “you’d be totally into the green swamp monster I’d turn into. Fiona’s got nothing on me.”

“Not the way I thought you’d find this out about me, but—” Yunho paused for dramatic effect, and I raised my eyebrows at him, “I’m totally into Fiona, have been since I was little.”

“Oh, my God!” I cackled, shielding my mouth with my hand as I still haven’t chewed all the crackers, “Yunho! That’s just—you have to explain yourself now!”

“Why, don’t tell me you never had a crush on a fictional character!?” Yunho exclaimed, sounding exasperated as he bumped his shoulder against mine. I licked my lips and tried not to burst out laughing at the memory of who I’ve always had a crush on when I was younger.

“Okay…” I took a deep breath and turned my head to face Yunho, “Have you ever heard about the cartoon ‘W.I.T.C.H.’?”

“Yeah, Hongjoong really liked it while we were growing up,” Yunho said with a chuckle, “He’d make us watch it every evening when they played it on the TV, I think he was into Cornelia.”

“Well, Cornelia is a good, and hot, choice to have a crush on, indeed.” I pursed my lips and offered my bag of crackers to Yunho, who took one with a small grin, “I mean, I was totally into Caleb, but—”

“Really? Caleb?” Yunho asked surprised, narrowing his eyes, “I thought you’re more of a Matt girl.”

“Well, I’m actual neither a Caleb nor Matt girl, Yunho.” I giggled, leaning in closer as if I was telling a secret, “You see, I always found myself blushing a little bit too hard when Lord Cedric was on the screen—”

“No way!” Yunho exclaimed, eyes turning round as he looked shocked, “The snake guy?!”

“Well, don’t look at me like that after admitting you’re into Fiona!” I exclaimed back with a laugh, making Yunho look at me like I was crazy.

“Fiona was a princess who decided to turn into an Ogre to stay with the love of her life, meanwhile, Lord Cedric was obsessed with his king, he could into a snake, and he once ate someone, Y/N!” I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh at how passionate Yunho was all of a sudden.

“Each to its own, I guess.” I said nonchalantly with a shrug, making Yunho’s initial shock turn into amusement as he started laughing once again. I’ve never heard him laugh so much before, and I found myself smiling at him as his ears turned slightly rosy, eyes screwed shut as his shoulders shook from laughter. He looked completely and absolutely beautiful, and my heart was hammering against my ribcage, threating to fall out of my ass at any given moment. Oh, God, I’m so screwed.

“I swear to God, you and Mingi are cut from the same cloth. He’s also into weird humanlike creatures or something.” Yunho said once he had calmed down, and I quickly turned my head away when he looked at me, feeling like he caught me staring and admiring him.

“Not you shaming both Mingi and I for having silly childhood crushes.” I said with a pout, throwing a cracker into my mouth.

“Mingi still crushes on characters like those, though.” I chuckled, glancing at Yunho from the corner of my eyes, finding him looking at me with a small smile on his lips, cheeks flushed. God, he’s not blushing, right?! Why would he blush, it must be the sun. Yup, certainly the sun!

“I’ll tell him you made fun of him behind his back.” I teased as Yunho grabbed a cracker, leaning his head back against the tree.

“I fear it won’t phase him; San makes fun of him daily for it.” Yunho said, sounding amused. I chuckled and copied Yunho as I leaned my head back against the tree too, suddenly becoming aware of how close we were sitting next to each other. Our shoulders and thighs were pressed together, and Yunho’s elbow was softly poking into my stomach. I bit my lower lip and allowed the comfortable silence to settle upon us, watching the people that passed by the park. The traffic wasn’t so bad here, and there was a bus stop straight across the park. A sports car, with a super loud engine drove past, the sound making me wince for a second. And as I watched a mother with her two children open the gate of the park, I felt a hand in my hair, fingers twirling a longer strand. My heart stilled for a second, knowing well that it was Yunho, and I took a peek at him.

“Oh,” He suddenly retracted his hand, looking away embarrassed, “sorry, there was uh—something in your hair. A bug.”

Funny, Spiderman did that too.

“Thanks.” I offered him a small smile and watched as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, funny how that now reminded me of Spiderman too, “I hate bugs.”

“I’m not afraid of them.” Yunho said as he finally looked me in the eyes, his ears, however, still slightly red.

“Aren’t you a cool guy, Jeong Yunho?” I winked playfully and Yunho chuckled before we became silent again. I popped another cracker into my mouth and then offered the bag to Yunho, who took some more, and funnily stuffed his mouth full of them. I chuckled and proceeded to eat some more too, placing my left hand on my thigh as I tried to enjoy this peaceful moment. I’ve never had this back in my hometown. I didn’t have many people to hang out with, and the ones I did hang out with were always the bad type of kids, kids who wanted to break the rules and bother others. It was nice to finally embrace the tranquillity, and just simply exist without ruining others fun. Many people didn’t like me back in my hometown due to me associating myself with those rascals.

Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice that something was softly poking my hand, the feeling just barely there, like the ghost of a touch. I watched the two children play around, climb into the smaller trees and wave at their mother as they laughed. When the light touch became more insistent, I flipped my hand around, thinking it was just an ant or something that I could flick away, but instead, I felt warm fingertips just barely trace the lines of my palm. I gulped and tried not to tense up as I looked down, eyes falling on Yunho’s hand as his long fingers pushed a little more decisively against my palm. I blinked and looked up at Yunho, but he was looking down at our hands, lips parted as if he was in a trance. I was curious—I had to know—so without thinking much, I gently intertwined our fingers, and waited. For something to happen, anything. But other than a tiny smile appearing on Yunho’s lips and his grip turning slightly firmer, nothing happened. Well, nothing besides the frightening feeling of my heart exploding out of my chest, and my cheeks burning so much you could probably fry a steak on it or something. I didn’t know where to put this exactly, what to think of it, but the seemingly trance Yunho was in, was broken the second loud sirens rung and police cars were suddenly wheezing down the street, the loud noise disturbing the tranquil atmosphere that had settled around us. Yunho became instantly tense as his head snapped up, eyes focused up ahead as he untangled his hand from mine, grabbing his backpack. I watched him curiously as he took his phone and opened it up, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

“I—I, uh, I have to go.” My eyebrows furrowed as I watched Yunho scramble up, leaving his water and potato chips on the ground, “My mom just texted me; something came up—I have to go.”

“Is everything alright?” I asked worried, watching Yunho bounce on his feet as he looked one second away from sprinting off.

“Yeah, it’s—everything’s okay, I just really have to go right now.” He finally looked at me, chewing on his bottom lip, looking like he was hesitating, “Don’t wait for me, your bus will come in ten minutes. Get home safely, text me when you do.”

“Oh, okay, uhm, you take care too.” But Yunho ran off before I could even finish my sentence, and I watched impressed as he jumped over the fence—which wasn’t very tall, but I wouldn’t have been able to do that surely—and then he was sprinting down the sidewalk, apologising to people as he had to push them out of his way.

Huh, that was weird and another interesting coincidence. I couldn’t help but think back to Mingi mentioning Yunho’s disappearances whenever something major and bad was happening in the city. Certainly, they were mere coincidences.

But Yunho never quite texted back yesterday, and it would be a lie if I say I didn’t worry about him. His departure from the park was sudden, and his absence conjured up all sorts of thoughts in my mind. It was strange and very unlike Yunho. When I was on the bus, headed to school and completely sleepy and almost out of it, I was scrolling through Tik Tok, trying to awaken myself a little bit after I have texted San to inquire information about Yunho. He reassured me that there were days when Yunho would go low on contact, but he was completely fine, and that usually he spent his time with family when he wouldn’t text back. I could understand that, but it still worried me. Just as I was about to exit the app, I came across a crappy video on my for your page that depicted many police cars and even more officers as they had someone surrounded. And then, the superhero, the one that always saves the day around here, Spiderman swooped in and all you could see was his web flying around, and a man getting strapped to a pole until a gunshot rang out followed by a loud cry of pain, and then the video cut off. My eyebrows furrowed as I let it replay again, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. Who got hurt? You couldn’t see it in the video, and I couldn’t help but think that it was Spiderman. Without thinking much, I sent the video to San and asked if he knew anything. The reply, unsurprisingly, came fast, and he said that Spiderman got injured yesterday as one of the criminal’s managed to escape. He got shot in his left leg. I cringed at the thought, and then put my phone away having arrived to the high-school. I certainly wasn’t in the mood nor headspace to attend any of my classes today, but at least I’d get to see Yunho, and make sure that he’s okay.

Except that, very uncharacteristically to Yunho, he showed up a little late to our first class, and he even looked quite dishevelled with dark bags under his eyes. He looked like he didn’t have a good night’s sleep and—I almost failed to notice the slight limp he had in his left leg. Huh, I wonder if anything happened, or have I started seeing things now? However, I didn’t get many chances to ask Yunho about it as he seemed to be always busy talking to our teachers, or to everyone else in the hallways, barely paying attention to San, Mingi, or even me. It was strange, but San said it was completely normal behaviour coming from Yunho, and that he’d do this from time to time when he felt pressured. Apparently, Yunho rarely opens up to his best friends as he hates bothering others with his issues. But I wanted to know what was bothering him. He wouldn’t be a bother to me. But I couldn’t do that as he only sat for us for five minutes in the canteen during our lunch break, and then rushed off saying he had something to take care of. But after that, he never returned to classes. My texts also went unanswered, and by the evening, I was positively nervous and stressed out of my mind by the fact that I didn’t know what was wrong. I even debated on asking San for Yunho’s home address to pay him a quick visit in order to make sure that he was indeed okay. Even my mom noticed how absentminded and worried I was during dinner, but didn’t pester me much when I lied that the teachers were stressing me out with upcoming tests—which maybe wasn’t too smart as she told me I should study even more. Ugh.

Currently, we have finished having dinner and I have tied the trash bag together to take the trash out. I slipped on my outdoor shoes swiftly and unlocked the front door, my mom’s series playing loudly in the living room as she giggled at whatever was said. The air was chilly outside and the single long-sleeved blouse and joggers I was wearing did an awful job at keeping me warm, so, I quickly skipped down the stairs and went to the small alley between our house and the building. That’s where the big trash bins were, by the tall fence. It was dark outside, so I tried to be quick as I dragged the trash bag after me, shivering due to the cold. I huffed loudly, smog leaving my mouth, as I rounded the corner and gave the short alleyway a quick check that it was empty before I hurried down, opening the big trash bin. I threw the bag inside and let it shut loudly afterwards. I rubbed my arms up and down as I turned around and walked back down the alleyway, gasping loudly as a silhouette appeared right around the corner. It was hunched over slightly and breathing loudly, groaning too. God, I fucking hate this neighbourhood, why do I always have to encounter random drunk people or even worse—criminals!? But I really had to head back inside the house—climbing through my window wasn’t an option as it was locked—and I willed myself to just run past them and back inside the safety of my house. However, just as I made it under the streetlamp, I paused. The red and blue suit was torn at the chest, and Spiderman seemed to be struggling to stand up straight.

“Oh, my God!” I whispered, approaching him, “What happened to you?!”

“Oh, Y/N.” He muttered, groaning again as he tried to stand up tall.

“Stop that,” I hissed, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to inspect his wound, but it wasn’t visible through the gash on the suit, “Come on.”

Spiderman only resisted for a second as I placed his arm around my shoulders, offering him support as he leaned against my much smaller frame. He was heavy, but I was determined, and the front porch was barely a few steps away, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you inside my house, think you can keep quiet until we reach my room?” I looked up at Spiderman, who gulped as we reached the front steps.

“Yeah.” He whispered and I let out a small sigh, taking one step at a time as we ascended the stairs. I pushed the door open carefully and walked us inside, pausing in the hallway to make sure my mother was still in the living room, watching her series. I looked at Spiderman and signalled to him to remain quiet as I lead us down the hallway, headed for my room. I opened the door and helped him towards my bed, on which he fell down quite unceremoniously, groaning loudly.

“Okay, you still have to keep quiet.” I said with a frown, glancing behind me, “I’ll be back in a second with a medical kit.”

Spiderman nodded and I swiftly left my room, pulling the door shut until it was only slightly ajar, and sneaked back down the hallway. I opened the front door again and closed it louder, locking it up, “Mom, I’m going to bed now! I’m really sleepy.”

“Alright, sweet dreams, honey.” She threw a flying kiss my way as she glanced back and I smiled, catching it playfully before I was off, headed for the bathroom. I took the medical kit from underneath the small cupboard we had in there, and then I was back inside my room, closing and locking the door after myself.

“Alright,” I whispered, looking at Spiderman and trying not to panic as I noticed blood seeping through his suit, “how do we do this?”

“Uh,” He groaned again, sitting up lightly, “you can patch me up through the costume.”

“I can?” I muttered confused as I walked closer, placing the kit down by the bed as I crouched down. I leaned closer to his chest and carefully touched the costume, not too surprised to find it not peeling off his body, “I can’t, Spiderman, the costume literally clings to your body.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” He mused, scratching his nape, “I have to take it off, then.”

“Oh—like—the whole costume?” My voice was squeaky all of a sudden, and I averted my eyes as I felt myself blush lightly.

“Uh, yeah.” Spiderman whispered and I gulped, trying not to freak out. Yeah, this is cool and totally okay, nothing too sensational. I’m just helping a wounded guy, no biggie, it’s not like I’m going to see him naked! He must have underwear on, right?!

“I think I accidentally took some of my mom’s exe’s clothes with me when I was packing, let me check.” And I stood up and hurried over to my closet, finding the sweatpants and t-shirt that I had in mind.

“Great.” Spiderman grumbled and I rolled my eyes.

“Hey, you don’t get to be picky when you’re about to bleed out on my bed!” I hissed, trying to control my tone and not raise my voice out of fear of alerting my mom.

“Right, sorry.” Spiderman muttered and I approached him again.

“How do we take the suit off?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed. I’ve never seen something like this before, so I have no idea what superheroes do in this case.

“There’s a zipper on the back.” He explained and I nodded, going to the side of the bed to be able to see Spiderman’s back.

“Will—will the mask come off too?” I asked in a whisper as I hesitated to touch the zipper.

“No, don’t worry.” Spiderman answered and I huffed, gripping the zipper and carefully undoing it. It went all the way down to his lower back, and I blinked a few times as I tried to ignore the smooth skin underneath the suit.

“Uh, right, I assume you can undress yourself the rest of the way?” I asked as I stepped back, averting my eyes as my cheeks were burning.

“Yeah, one second.” Spiderman huffed and he carefully stood, groaning quietly. I closed my eyes and shrivelled around, not too keen of staring at him while he changes out of his costume. I might see something I don’t want to, and that’s not cool. I listened closely as he shuffled around, groaned a few times, and then plopped back down on the bed, “Okay, I have changed.”

“Great—” I gasped as my eyes fell on his exposed torso, eyes widening at the big gash running across his chest, “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital right now?!”

Spiderman chuckled, and my eyebrows furrowed more as I went back to my previous position in front of him. I kneeled and took the medical kit, opening it up.

“If we clean the wound, it’ll take around two to three hours to heal by itself.” He said, tone reassuring as I grabbed some gauze and rubbing alcohol, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“So, then, did you get shot yesterday?” I asked, pouring rubbing alcohol on the gauze before I looked up, “I saw the videos.”

The sight of having Spiderman in nothing but sweatpants and his mask, sitting on my is bed certainly—a sight to behold. Perhaps if he wasn’t hurt at the moment, I’d be gaping at his well-defined physique, his lean muscles, the faint abs on his stomach, his wide shoulder and broad chest—focus, woman!

“Yeah, I did get shot.” Spiderman said, and I hoped he’d ignore the way I tried not to thirst over his body. I’m such a horrible person right now, kill me.

“This will hurt, I assume.” I warned as I leaned up and gently pressed the gauze against the edge of the gash, making Spiderman hiss, “Sorry, I did warn you though.”

“I know, don’t worry.” He chuckled and I noticed his hands balling up the blanket as he gulped loudly the lower my hand slipped on the gash, trying to clean the wound as carefully but thoroughly as possible.

“Is your leg fine, then?” I asked, trying to avert his attention from the pain. Spiderman hummed, low in his chest, almost rumbling under my touch. I gulped and tried to focus—this is so not the moment to even think to fantasize about this superhero dude!

“It’s a bit still sore, the bullet went in deep, but it healed up by noon.” He explained and I hummed, for some reason finding it weird that Yunho seemed to be limping this morning, and that he disappeared around noon. Certainly, I was playing along to Mingi’s delusions and suspicions about Yunho at this point, and I don’t even spend that much time with Mingi. It’s ridiculous. How could Yunho be Spiderman? But then again…is it really that unbelievable? It could be anyone, for God’s sake, even me! Well, obviously not me, but you know what I mean!

“I’m glad that’s healed.” I muttered, getting to the other end of the gash finally, “Are you sure this one doesn’t need stitches, it looks to be deep, Mr. Spidey.”

Spiderman chuckled, and I felt his hand wrap around my wrist as I dabbed the gauze against the wound again. I froze, eyes widening a little at the familiarity of the touch. Yunho’s hands are always warm and quite big, his fingers long. I bit my bottom lip as I looked down at Spiderman’s hand, noticing the marks that looked like they were left by rings. Yunho would also have marks left by rings on his fingers on days he didn’t feel like wearing them. I gulped and then looked up; Spiderman’s freaky black masked eyes unblinking as he looked down at me.

“It won’t need stitches, Y/N.” He whispered, and a tingle ran down my spine, making me gulp down nothing in particular, having to clear my throat as I averted my eyes, gently pulling my hand back. Spiderman released his grip on me instantly and followed me with his eyes as I threw the bloody gauze back inside the medical kit until I’d throw it away. I then stood, rubbing my hands together as I didn’t know what to do next.

“I, uh—is that enough?” I asked, motioning towards the clean gash now, averting my eyes from his torso when they threatened to run all over it again.

“Yes, thank you.” Spiderman muttered, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “You’re an angel.”

Oh, fuck. My cheeks flushed instantly and I pulled my hair behind my ears as I cleared my throat again, looking past Spiderman, at my poster covered wall, “Right, yeah, uh—do you need anything else?”

“A little time to recover would be nice if I’m not bothering you too much.” Spiderman said, voice sounding hopeful.

“It’s fine, my mom won’t bother us as she thinks I’ve gone to bed.” I explained, placing my hands behind my back awkwardly, “Uhm, you said it takes two to three hours to heal, do you think this one will heal that fast if the wound made by the gun didn’t?”

Spiderman shrugged, and I watched as he finally took the white t-shirt I have given him in his hands, “It’ll certainly take longer than that, sometime around the early morning hours I should be fine.”

“Then stay.” I blurted out before I could actually think about what I was proposing. Spiderman froze for a second as he was about to wear the t-shirt, “I mean, you’re hurt and it’s dangerous outside, even Spiderman deserves to rest and be safe, no?”

He poked his masked head through the t-shirt, “Well, yes, but—”

“Then sleep here.” I motioned at the bed he was sitting on, “I will go to my mom and tell her I had a really bad nightmare, and that I wish to sleep next to her.”

“I don’t want to bother you, though.”

“Hey, Spidey, it’s totally cool.” I chuckled, showing him my thumbs up, “I’ll have so much fun retelling all this to Yunho, you know, my friend who’s obsessed with you. He’ll be dying that I got to patch you up and house you for a night.”

I giggled as I went to collect my phone from my desk, slipping it in my pocket. I should probably take some pyjamas with me and the medical kit as well. I walked to my closet as Spiderman watched me, and I opened the door to pick out my most favourite pyjamas to sleep in tonight. I closed the door and turned, smiling to myself…until I looked up. Until I found Spiderman gone and Yunho standing in his place. Red mask with the freaky black blinking eyes was clutched in his left hand, and his greyish-greenish-bluish hair was all messed up and dishevelled. My mouth dropped open as my pyjamas fell from my hands, and I found myself leaning back against my closet door.

“Yun—Yunho?!” I snapped; eyes wide open. This certainly must be a trick of the light or something, “There’s no fucking way you’re fucking Spiderman, Jeong Yunho!”

“But I actually am.” I watched Spiderman—no—Yunho scratch the back of his head awkwardly, averting his eyes, “This is not how I wanted to tell you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I huffed, eyebrows furrowing as I pushed myself off the closet, “It was you all along?!”

“Yeah, there’s just one Spiderman—”

“Yunho!” I hissed and walked up to him hurriedly, eyebrows furrowing, “Are you crazy?! You could’ve been so much more badly hurt! And your—your leg, you got shot yesterday, oh my God, I’m not crazy! I—I kept noticing similarities between you and Spiderman—like the constant head scratching and like—your physiques were similar—and I saw you limping this morning! I can’t believe you’re actually him, what?! And you have everyone fooled too, like—do you know Mingi is suspicious of you? I thought I was crazy for thinking you are similar to Spiderman after hanging out with Mingi, but, oh, my god, if he finds out he’ll be so mad, Yunho! And—the childhood friend—it’s Hongjoong you were talking about, isn’t it?! Oh, my God, I also told you everything about the reason why I moved here, and meanwhile I’m glad I won’t have to tell you again, I felt shitty for dumping all that on Spiderman, and it turns out it’s you—”

My eyes widened as my words got muffled, stolen away, as Yunho’s extra warm lips were pressing against mine. I froze, my whole body locking up as he leaned down even more, slotting his lips perfectly against mine. Oh, my fucking God, Yunho is kissing me?! My ultimate crush is absolutely kissing me right now?! And he also happens to be Spiderman?! What in the—I closed my eyes and pushed up on my tip toes, circling my arms around Yunho’s neck as I pulled him down closer, still careful of his wounded chest. Yunho was eager as he gently, experimentally, pressed his lips firmer against mine, his hands settling on my hips as he pulled me a little bit closer. I allowed his lips to slip between mine, gently sucking on his upper lip as I felt Yunho’s left-hand slip to the middle of my back, embracing me as he flushed me against himself. The position was a little bit uncomfortable as I had to crane my neck up and back, trying to keep my balance on my tip toes too, but it was worth it as I felt Yunho’s embrace completely engulf me, pull me into himself, wrap me up in a warm and safe cocoon. I didn’t dare breathe as our lips found a gentle and soft rhythm, Yunho, always the careful sweetheart that he is, didn’t want to hurry the kiss as he gently sucked on my lower lip, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. I was slowly getting lightheaded, but I didn’t want to pull back just yet. Yunho, however, did slightly pull back, only to press thousands of little kisses against my lips, making me giggle quietly as his lips pulled into the widest smile I have ever seen on him.

“You’re so beautiful and cute.” I found myself whispering against his lips, eyes fluttering open. Yunho’s neck and ears were red, and I finally didn’t have to control myself as I cupped his cheeks and gently squeezed them, making him chuckle adorably, “God, I could squish your cheeks all day long. You’re so adorable.”

“You’re stealing all my lines, angel.” Well, now it was my turn to blush like crazy as I released Yunho’s cheeks and pressed my face into his neck, chuckling, “For the record, before you accuse me of it, I’m not narcissistic.”

I giggled against the hot skin of his neck, and pressed a swift kiss against the flushed flesh, he smelled like honey, “It’s quite important to be your own biggest fan, Spiderman.”

“You’ll forever tease me about it, won’t you?” Yunho asked with a chuckle as he pressed a kiss against the top of my head.

“Definitely.” I pulled back to look up at him with a grin, “But I promise to keep your secret. I’m sure Hongjoong would be more pissed than you if I said anything to anyone.”

“Oh, he definitely would be.” Yunho chuckled, and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead.

“Mingi will be really mad too once he finds out, you know.” I said with a pout, “He’s already very suspicious.”

“I know, I have noticed.” Yunho sighed as my arms slipped from his shoulders to his middle, “I plan on telling him soon, but the timing needs to be perfect.”

“Like with me?” I teased as I wriggled my eyebrows at him, and he chuckled. He draped his arms around my shoulders, and leaned down again.

“Well, I quite like the outcome of it, so I can’t complain.”

“Huh, have you been waiting long to kiss me?” It was only meant to be teasing, but the way Yunho flushed again, I knew I was right. And it made me blush too as I shook my head at him, “Well, same here, if I’m being frank. I think I’ve had a crush on you since the first day we met…”

“Well,” Yunho took a deep breath and leaned so close his warm breath hit my lips, “I know I fell in love with you the very day you moved to the city, angel. I was passing through the neighbourhood as Spiderman and saw you bringing the boxes inside while you were belting out those high notes of the song you were listening to.”

“That’s so embarrassing!” I grimaced, shaking my head at Yunho.

“No, it’s actually really adorable. You can’t fathom how often you gave me cute aggression, but I had to hold myself back.” I looked down flustered, knowing the feeling way too well.

“Well, Spiderman, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” I winked as I looked in Yunho’s warm chocolate brown eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N, would you like to be Spiderman and Yunho’s girlfriend?” I chuckled, pressing a quick kiss against Yunho’s lips.

“Don’t refer to yourself in third person, it’s cringey.” I whispered, feeling just a little bit shy as I bit my bottom lip, “But yes, I would really like to be Spiderman and Yunho’s girlfriend.”

“Great, because Spiderman and Yunho also really want to be your boyfriend.” Yunho whispered back, engulfing me in a bear hug, making me feel safe, like nobody else ever has.

Bro, I can’t believe I just bagged both Spiderman and my crush in one go.

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