#but i don’t know where to go from there

[jo-com]

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆ ➛ Opposite

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: Oscar has always been so grumpy and moody; frowning towards others but when he sees you, his mood changes faster than the speed of light itself.

Genre: Black cat boyfriend x Golden retriever girlfriend

Note: look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread guys!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚─ ───────

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Lando joked, seeing as Oscar’s expression rested into it’s usual downward smile. It was always fixated like that so it’s hard to tell whether or not he’s mad or just himself— others often misinterpret his attitude though.

Mainly because of his resting bitch face and the fact that he’s always frowning all the time, but people got used to it overtime.

Oscar just rolled his eyes and shrugged,”Nothing, i was just staring at something.”

“Staring?” Lando scoffed, “mate, you look like you’re about to murder someone.”

Oscar flipped Lando off, not even sparing him a single glance as he does so.

The other driver chuckled at his child like behavior and just shook his head in a playful manner, “I am telling you man, whatever your staring at right now, might think you’re judging the inside of their soul”

“I don’t even care, fuck them” oscar retaliated, his eyes rolling in the back of his head out of habit.

Before Lando could even tease him any further, a familiar voice spoke softly; interrupting their conversation and joining in themselves.

“Fuck who?” You asked innocently, your smile so radiant and bright that it lit up the once cold and mundane atmosphere.

Oscar’s whole demeanor changed and so did his mood— as soon as you set foot in the hospice and when his eyes landed on your pretty figure, he was like a completely new person.

“Hi babyy!” He spoke, dragging the y with an exaggerated smile, his tone going from gloomy to happy.

Lando giggled from the corner, “wow, where did that come from.”

Oscar momentarily glared at Lando— his eyes shifted back to his old one. If looks could kill, Lando would be buried 6 feet under.

His fellow driver put both hands in front and gestured to back off, “guess i am off then, see you around y/n."

"Bye lan, it was nice seeing you!" you replied happily.

Meanwhile, whilst Lando was heading out, Oscar's sharp stare never jearked away from his body; staring daggers at the poor man.

But of course, once Lando has left, his whole aura changed; he was all bubbly and smiley. It's like he wasn't the Oscar from earlier.

Oscar then patted his lap, gesturing for you to sit there, to which you happily obliged. Sitting excitedly on his lap and gripping his waist to try and balance yourself.

You leaned in to his embrace and shifted yourself to comfort.

"What were you guys talking about?," you mumbled, moving your head up to see his face clearly.

Oscar let out a contented sigh as he gently laid his hand in the roof of your heand and ruffled it. You were just so damn adorable, sitting on his lap like that.

Your eyes narrowed from his movement, "What was that for?" You gasped confusingly, earning a soft chuckle from your boyfriend.

"Nothing you're just too cute not to" Oscar spoke, using his free hand to pinch the side of your cheek.

He looked at awe with your confused look-- he doesn't know why it affects him that much and why it makes his heart go beat crazy, but he likes the feeling.

Only with you though.

You guys were too busy with each other that you didn't even notice another presscence blocking the doorframe.

Only when a subtle gasp where let out that the two of you knew that there was someone else.

"IS THAT A SMILE I SEE FROM THE OSCAR PIASTRI??"

"LEAVE US ALONE PIERRE"

And he's back.

...

Sorry for not updating in a long time, I've not been myself lately😭

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: implied noncon, yandere, captive reader, blood, knife play

gn reader

Satoru doesn’t have infinity activated around you. You don’t really pose much of a threat, and he thinks you know that too—besides, you’d never actually dare do anything anyway…

The knife in his lung says differently. Your hand around the hilt shakes, unintentionally wiggling the blade.

The surprise is greater than the pain. Honestly, the pain barely matters. He’s experienced so much worse, his body scoffs at the tiny kitchen utensil. Cursed technique stops the bleeding before a single drop even escapes—it works like a well-oiled machine without him even thinking about it.

You seem worse off. Tears fumble down your face as you tremble, wide-eyed and petrified, staring at where you’ve just driven the weapon through the otherwise pale and perfect alabaster muscles of his abdomen. 

He says your name, and it seems to shake you out of it. You let go of the shaft, but the knife remains inside. He pulls it out himself as if it’s nothing—not even giving it the same regard you would have a tiny splinter.

A droplet of blood slips down the blade and splashes on the cotton of your panties—the ones he’d been so eager to remove only a minute ago.

Where’d you even hide the knife? Has he become so comfortable around you that he didn’t notice you holding it?

You’re still in shock. Small whimpers escape your trembling and the erratic nature of your breaths. You’re not really breathing fast or slow, it’s almost like you’ve forgotten how to do it right—hitched both on its way in and on its way out again.

He almost feels sorry for you. But then again, he’s the one who was just stabbed.

“Lick it.” He doesn’t know where it comes from. It’s the first punishment that he could think of.

You blink like you’ve got an eyelash stuck on your lens as you adjust your gaze to look up at him. He holds the knife to your lips.

“Wah—”

“It’s dirty. Lick it clean.”

He can see the gears turning in your head. He wonders what you’re thinking about. Is it how much you hate him? Regret for what you’ve done? Or misery over how it didn’t kill him?

Would you really want to kill him? He would ask, but he doesn’t think you know the answer.

Your tongue trembles as it reaches out, gasping once it touches the blood.

It’s weird, but there’s something really intimate about it. Maybe it’s because he’s horny. He was planning on fucking you just a while ago, after all.

You whimper as you lick along the length of the blade, feeling the fresh blood soak into your tastebuds—salty and metallic and a little sweet. He turns the blade for you to finish the other side as well.

The taste stays on your tongue.

He throws the knife away once it’s clean. There’s no clatter, just a thud as it lands in the white fur of the living room carpet.

Lanky hands hold both sides of your face as he lays his forehead down upon yours. “I know it wasn’t your intention…” he rasps while his thumbs rub into your cheeks, making your lips jut out in a pout. His blue eyes are even crisper than usual. “But that really turned me on.”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Mayor's Daughter and the Outlaw

Summary: After ten years, you've finally got your shot at your revenge. You've found the Hero. You have him in your sights.

-----

Pull the trigger.

You’ve worked too hard not to pull the trigger. The sweat, blood and tears you’ve shed have been the least you’ve given to be here. The air is crisp and clean nearly a hundred feet up in a pine tree overlooking a remote forest. You’re probably the only person in the world capable of spotting the brown, camouflaged building spanning the length of the small river running through the valley. There’s a hologram of the river it’s covering playing over the building’s walls. Hell, there are even birds flicking occasionally across the illusion, not often enough to draw attention, but just often enough their movement sends your eyes darting to other trees, trying to find where they went.

You breathe in the scent of sun-heated sap so slowly that it takes a solid minute for your lungs to expand. Your pupils flex and adjust whenever the wind rocks your tree. The window you’ve been staring at for the past hour remains in your focus.

The Sun, hair just as fake-gold as it was ten years ago, sleeps on. He’s definitely older now that you can see him in real life instead of on magazine covers or under studio lights. The skin of his neck is loose and folded under the weight of his chin drooping towards his chest. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The bastard still has the audacity to dream. His arms are crossed over the sun motif emblazoned across his breastplate, his dust-covered boots kicked up on his desk so you can see how worn the soles are. Judging by the way his lips tremble, he’s snoring.

Pull the trigger.

You exhale. This is when you should do it. When your shoulders drop and the wind dies so that, for a moment, the world stands still. There are no whispers across the canopy. Every bough is frozen. The reflection of the sun in the river is overcome by a well-timed cloud and the Sun’s head tilts back to expose the long line of his throat.

The trigger presses back against your finger like an eager puppy. There’s nothing special about the bullets, nothing special about this gun. It’s not the right weapon for what you’re asking it to do, but you’ve had longer and harder shots. You know that you’ll shoot true and the confidence steadies your hand even more. You smoothly pull--

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back.

Your pupils dilate at the memory. For a moment you don’t see the Sun; you see her with her face burned as red as her prom dress. You try to dispel the image, try to remember that she didn’t die in her prom dress, but it’s too late.

I want you to live, Elian.

You’re suddenly aware of how your lungs ache and your legs burn from the way they’re wrapped around the tree and the bark is digging into your cheek and your fingers are like ice on the trigger. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. This is the Sun’s private residence. The security must be insane even if there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. What’s your exit strategy again? Your thoughts scatter as her voice rings through your head again.

More than anything, I want you to live.

-------Ten years ago----

You’re what the heroes tactfully call a nuisance. A juvenile delinquent with powers, aka a kid that the police aren’t equipped to handle and the local Hero chapter is too overqualified and too understaffed to address often.

 Your moral compass has never had a true north and it only gets worse the more your powers develop. Soon you aren’t just stealing your mom’s car – you’re stealing the neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s neighbor’s until you’re breaking into houses at the top of the hill and joyriding in a car worth more than your entire neighborhood together.

You find out pretty quickly that the heroes care a lot more when money is involved.

You spend your first night in jail after getting chased for three hours in a neon green lambo by the four heroes packed like sardines in a standard issue SUV. It’s laughably easy to out-drive them, choking around corners and careening down alleys that you scouted in the afternoon. Honestly, it would have been easy to get away, but your mom called just as the tank hit empty, asking when you were coming home.  You decided to give the heroes a break before they decided to play too rough with a minor.

Mom isn’t thrilled when you tell her you won’t be home in time for school tomorrow.

You kind of expect to be sent to prison the next day when you find out just whose car you stole. The Mayor’s daughter’s car, bought new for her seventeenth birthday a month ago. There are two open secrets about the mayor. One, he’s probably one of the heroes that protect the city judging from how much he praises them every time there’s a mic nearby. Two, he loves his daughter more than anything else.

So when you’re released the next day with a slap on the wrist? Yeah, you’re surprised.

When you’re released the next day to find the golden-haired, blue-eyed Mayor’s daughter waiting outside? Having just bailed you out?

You feel fear for the first time.

“You could have at least crashed it,” she says when she notices you gaping at her from the end of the parking lot. She’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV that looks a lot like the one the heroes chased you in last night. She waves a hand in the air. “Dad says the dents you put in the side will be out by tomorrow.”

Fear, apparently, makes you snarky. “What, you wanted to spend another week getting chauffeured by a hero?”

Her brows jerk up towards her hairline. She throws a glance over her shoulder. “You seeing ghosts? Nobody’s in there. I drove myself.”

“Good for you,” you say. You think you smell. They didn’t give you access to a shower last night. You’re upwind from her and damnit why are you embarrassed if you smell or not? Your chin jerks forward in a challenge. “You gonna give me a ride back home?”

You’re joking, but she nods like it was the plan all along. “Let’s go.”

Is that an answering challenge in her words? Your teeth grind as you force yourself forward. “Very kind of you,” you chirp, swinging up into the passenger seat. The car smells like leather and justice. “Just drop me off on the other side of the train tracks. I can find my way home from there.”

She snorts. “Is that a Footloose reference? Very dated.”

You stare at her profile. “…No. I literally live on the other side of the tracks.”

She flushes. “Right. Well…I’m not dropping you off yet. I want to talk first.”

The doors are locked. You swallow as she carefully pulls out of the parking lot and then guns it into the road without looking. Luckily, no one’s there. “Talk? About what?”

“About how you’re going to steal my car again,” she says. “And this time you’re going to crash it right.”

“You hate the color that much?” you joke.

Her tone is not joking. “You have no idea.”

You don’t find out her name until dinner when your mom’s managed to entice her into a third slice of homemade pizza. She stares down at the slice while your mom waves for you not to stay up too late before going to bed early. Gamely, you’re already on your fifth helping. Criminal activity takes a lot of energy.

“Does your mom know who I am?” she asks.

“Like, in theory,” you say. You’re full and warm as you lean into the hard wooden back of your chair. Mom added olives to your side of the pizza. “She probably doesn’t know you’re the Mayor’s daughter though. Just that he has one.”

“The Mayor…right,” she says. Her jaw firms. She flicks some olives off her pizza and then eats half the slice in one bite. “I’m Gina.”

“Elian,” you say instead of No, you’re the Mayor’s Daughter. You refill her soda cup before your own, just to show her you can be fancy and have manners too. She’s so out of place in your family’s one bedroom apartment. Her shirt is crisp and white, her gold necklace so shiny, that it’s like there’s a sepia filter over the eggshell walls and oak cabinets. “Sprite. Only the finest for the lady who bailed me out.”

“I’m thinking you can take my car next weekend,” Gina says so abruptly you nearly spit out your soda. There’s a hard light in her eyes. “Dad’s out of town for…business. He won’t notice for a few days. You take it, you get out of the city, you drive it off a cliff once you’ve wrecked it doing donuts or whatever.”

“A cliff?” You know exactly where she’s talking about. There’s an abandoned quarry about an hour outside of town. You shake your head. “That’s where people dump bodies. No way am I going out there.”

“They find bodies there because it’s outside of Hero Force’s patrol,” Gina says. She waves her hands in the air so the yellow light from the inset ceiling lights catches on her golden manicure. “If you think about it, it’s the best place to dump a car. Especially when the heroes are going to be out of town.”

You stare at her. “Did you just admit your dad is part of Hero Force?”

Her eyes skitter away from yours. “No.”

“Your dad is out of town next weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And the heroes?”

“Maybe they’re traveling together.”

“I don’t think anyone is supposed to know when the heroes are going to be out of town. Isn’t that like a national secret, or something?”

“We’re not a big enough chapter for it to be a national secret,” she denies. She bites her lip. “Probably a state secret though.”

You stand and your chair chatters against the linoleum. “No. Absolutely not.” It’s time for Ms. Mayor’s Daughter to leave.

She scrambles up after you, following you into the living room. “Why not?! You already mess with the heroes. Weren’t you the one who kept breaking into the mall on a motorcycle? You hijacked one of their delivery trucks a month ago—”

“A food delivery truck,” you say. “Which was more of a commentary about the city’s investment in Hero Force luxury rather than after school programs—” You bite your tongue. You spin so that the couch stays between you. You glance at your mom’s closed door and consciously lower your voice. “How do you even know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” she says. She laughs without humor, dragging one hand through her golden hair. “Sometimes living in this town is like being in a simulation. We have four A-class heroes for a population of 30,000 and everybody loves them. Nobody thinks it’s strange to have walking nukes in a small town. They love my dad. Did you know no one’s even run against him for the past two elections? It doesn’t matter what he does. He owns this place and these people. He has – could commit murder and it would be justified. People would think it would be justice.”

“He loves you,” you say weakly. Isn’t four heroes a pretty normal number? Sure, the ones in your town are big names, but that’s not weird.

Is it?

“He loves me so he gets to be a tyrant?” Gina scoffs. “If he’s even capable of love.”

“I’m not going to mess around with heroes’ civilian identities just because you’ve got daddy issues,” you say. When hurt flashes across her face, you wince. “Sorry. But it’s one thing to mess with heroes in masks, okay? Messing with a hero’s family—”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were stealing my car the other night.”

“That was before I knew your dad was Mr. Solve or whatever—”

“The Sun,” Gina says.

“What?”

“My dad’s the Sun.”

“That,” you say, “is so much worse. Didn’t he burn some minor villain’s eyes out last week?”

“Yes,” Gina says. Her mouth twists. “The guy got off easy compared to some others.”

You stare at her, momentarily speechless. “And you wonder why I’m not going to antagonize the guy?”

“But you already do,” Gina says. Her eyes are glinting. She looks so out of place against the dim interior of your home, a radiant girl dressed all in white and gold. She rounds the couch and snatches up one of your hands between two of her own. “Everyone else loves my dad. Except you. My entire life, and you’re the only one who dares to make—make statements about Hero Force consumption by stealing their deliveries or make the heroes chase you around an abandoned mall on foot like regular people. You challenge them, Elian. All I’m asking is that you do it again.”

“That sounds like a lot more than just crashing your car,” you say. Your voice sounds very far away. You never thought of your actions as so noble. There’s a tingling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before and your hand is so warm. She sees you. You shake the fantasy out of your head. “I—look. I’m flattered, but I’m not your guy. The heroes know my face. It’s only a matter of time before I get sent to whatever detention super-powered kids get sent to. I have to graduate high school.”

Rather than discourage her, Gina presses closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to do both?”

Her closeness fogs your brain. “Both?”

“Take the heroes down a notch and maintain your identity,” she says. She releases you and whirls to get her purse off the couch. “I can help you. We can train so that the heroes never recognize the new you. You can use your powers in new ways. And you can wear this.”

She thrusts a piece of chewed leather into your hands. A mask.

“I’m thinking,” she says, “we call you Outlaw.”

------ Now ----

You can’t shoot. Night is falling by the time you admit it to yourself. You press your back against the rough bark of the tree and stare up at the first stars. You cradle your gun in your hands.

The bloodlust is still there. You aren’t a fair lily incapable of staining your petals red (as red as her). So why can’t you pull the trigger? Because of her ghost? Her last message to you?

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back. More than anything, I want you to live, Elian.

You grind your teeth. Easy for her to say. The dying never have to feel the weight of consequence. They can just say whatever the fuck they want.

You aren’t thinking when you climb down the tree. Your powers give you a lot of things – speed and healing, an instinct for the outdoors, and excellent eyesight. You don’t need to look to find one branch and another, dropping to the forest floor in ten-foot increments. By the time your boots hit the ground, you know what the problem is.

Unlike your other kills, this one is personal. It was never going to be enough just to see him dead. You need him to know why you’ve got him in your sights.

The Sun is an old school hero. The traps you were so afraid of are predictable, turns out. You pick your way around bear traps and landmines, sharp eyes easily picking out silver trip wire when it glints in the moonlight. There are cameras, but there’s likely only one person with access. In the past ten years of following the Sun, you’ve learned two things about him.

One, he’ll kill the things he loves before he loses them.

Two, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.

You get to the building inside of an hour. The first floor is hidden by steel shutters and there’s no light peeking out from behind them. The second floor window where he’d been sleeping for most of the day shines with the faint blue glow of a television.

The front door looks like a bank’s with how thick it is. There’s a keypad and a biometric scanner you don’t have a prayer of hacking.

That’s okay. You’ve already seen your way in.

You climb up the nearest pine tree. The Sun likes to think of himself as a competent hero, but too many mayoral kickbacks over the years made him soft. He surrounded himself with powerful heroes and never once struggled to win. Because of that, he’s missing some caution and common sense. The building’s first floor is locked up tight, but the windows on the second are regular glass.

And he hasn’t trimmed the tree line back far enough.

You fire your first shot of the night into his empty desk chair, exactly where his chest had been hours earlier. Immediately a siren sounds, and the TV glow coming through the office’s open door is consumed by bright light. You run two steps and then leap, neatly flipping through the empty window frame. Your boots slide for a moment on the broken glass and you catch yourself on the edge of his desk. There are medical papers scattered across it, prescriptions and diagrams of the face and eyes and heart.

You chew your cheek at the sight of a pill bottle. There had been rumors that the Sun is sick with his own radiation poisoning. It’s good you’re here before nature runs its course.

The siren wails for another beat before dying. The silence rings. Your heartbeat picks up as your ears strain to hear if anyone’s coming to meet you. Strange. The Sun had to have been the one who shut off the alarm.

So where is he?

You hold your gun out in front of you and check your mask. The Sun knows who you are by now, but you want him to see the mask she gave you. The handsewn leather, patched more times than you can count, is recycled from one of his old leather jackets. It feels oddly poetic to be dressed in the first iteration of your costume, cowboy hat tipped back and a biker vest embroidered with the name she gave you.

Is the Sun hiding? You creep out of the office, eyes darting from the quaint landscapes hanging on the wall to the tasteful wooden floors. The Sun’s safe house feels more cabin-y than you expected. The property deed has been in his name for the past fifteen years. Did Gina ever visit? Her ghost runs ahead of you, golden nails dragging along the peach wallpaper to the first open door on the left. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

There are times when you’re glad for the afterimages your brain conjures. This is not one of those times. You don’t think she’d be happy to see what you’re about to do.

You swing around the doorway gun first, a snarl on your lips. “You old bastard, drop what—”

The smell of antiseptic hits your nose first, dashing away the red haze filling your vision in an instant. A TV murmurs against the wall, some rerun of an old western, but it’s not what holds your attention.

There’s a bed in the center of the room. The Sun sits at bedside, his attention wholly invested on the hand he’s holding up. Carefully, he applies gold paint to the nails without once looking up at you.

The woman in the bed is obscured with white gauze and beige compression bandages. Her breathing is soft and even. The one eye you can see is closed and still. No dreaming, no awareness.

“Outlaw,” the Sun says. He gently sets Gina’s left hand down on her stomach and picks up her right. He squints at her pinky nail. “Close the office door, would you? I don’t want the heat to escape.”

“What,” you breathe, “the fuck.”

-----Ten years ago ----

It’s a good year with Gina. You never realized how friend-starved you were until she was there, over at your house every day after school. She always makes it sound like she’s coming over to talk about the Outlaw thing, but there’s other stuff too. Movies and cooking and tutoring.

“Life is about balance,” Gina says sagely during one such tutoring session. “Besides, even heroes don’t go on more than two missions a month. We’re doing just fine.”

There’s always a pressing need to do more though. Whenever you pull off a particularly daring heist, she smiles this secret and pleased smile that makes your stomach flip. Sometimes, when the two of you watch news coverage of your getaways, she murmurs how impressed she is, how smart you are, how cool your powers are.

It makes you want to do anything for Gina.

You’re watching the news one day, waiting for a recap of how you stole the Sun’s favorite shield from the armory, when a rare story comes on. A Hero is dead, some guy named Ibis from Atlanta. There aren’t any leads to the culprit except for eyewitness accounts of a mysterious, winged super-powered individual flying low over the city, hiding in storm clouds.

“I’d kill a Hero,” you blurt out.

Gina jerks so hard that the popcorn bowl goes flying out of her hands. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“N-not your dad or anything,” you say quickly although yes, if you had to kill anyone, you’d start with the man who makes Gina cry like that. “Just…in general. The news anchor said Ibis was connected to a civilian’s death, right? I could kill a Hero like that.”

“No,” Gina says. She drops off the couch to kneel by you. “No, Elian.”

You flush like you’ve done something wrong. You sink into your hoodie. “I’m not going to, I’m just saying—”

“If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back,” Gina says. She’s too close, so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in her eyes. “Your life—it’s not like what we’ve been doing. Dad’s got rules when it comes to stealing. But if you kill a hero?” She shudders. “I want you to live, Elian.”

“I got it—”

“Please,” she blurts out. The plea in her voice makes you really look at her despite the pounding of your heart. Her eyes are wild and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. “No matter what. Promise me.”

“I—” No matter what? You slowly shake your head, trying to get away from the instinctive desire to agree with her. “I-if someone is really bad, I’d—”

“Elian—”

The tension makes you truthful.

“If your dad hurt you, I’d kill him,” you say. When she rears back, this time you follow. You brace your arm against the couch so you can lean into her space. With your other hand, you trace the fading burn on her cheek that could pass for an old sunburn if you didn’t know the truth. “I know you don’t think he will, but he’s been erratic lately. And I know about his temper. If he hurts you, I’d kill him.”

The air thickens between you. It’s rare that you don’t back down, but you’re not backing down now, staring into her eyes. Competing wills. For a moment you let everything you feel come to the surface. Your frustration when she visits with that fucking shadow in her smile, the helplessness when there’s another burn on her arm, the adoration when she’s just there.

Gina shudders and looks away first. She licks her lips. “I—I…appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. You agreed I got to make the rules for Outlaw. I’m telling you one. Don’t kill heroes.”

She’s pulling away. You do too, falling to her side and sitting next to her rather than hovering over her. You try for a careless shrug but fall short. How can she make you feel so powerful one second and so powerless the next? You avert your eyes. “I won’t kill heroes,” you promise.

You hear her suck in a breath. “Good. Because I need you alive.”

“I do like being alive,” you say and don’t finish the sentence with with you.

“We’re done studying,” she decides. She darts up towards the kitchen. “I’m getting another bowl of popcorn before we start the movie. You want some?”

You stare at your reflection in the dark TV. Your jaw works. Finally, you say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll just eat it off the floor.”

“Don’t be gross, Elian!”

------Now.----

“I will regret that day for the rest of my life,” the Sun says. He hasn’t looked at you once. His eyes are glued to the steady rise and fall of Gina’s chest. He times his breathing to hers and then sighs. “What a fool I was. Drunk on power.”

You’re standing on the opposite side of the bed. Your gaze flicks from Gina to him and back again. “Is she ever conscious?”

“It’s a medically-induced coma,” the Sun says. “The doctors say she should wake up any day now that most of her injuries have healed. Her last surgery was the final one. Now it’s up to her.”

This might be the first time in ten years that you’ve breathed. You suck in air greedily and imagine you can taste her scent under the layers of sickness and medicine. “They told me she died.”

“I told Hero Force you did it,” the Sun says. There’s no remorse in his voice. “They always tell villains they were successful, so they don’t try again.”

A decade of rage slides around your ribs. “You fucking bastard.”

“I did think it was your fault ten years ago.” He carefully picks up Gina’s left hand again to apply a second coat. It takes all your willpower not to slap him away from her. “If you hadn’t stolen Hero Force data, I wouldn’t have had to come after you with my full power. She would never have been in the line of fire.”

You’re fists shake at your sides. “I didn’t steal Hero Force data, I stole your fucking car. Don’t rewrite history.”

“There was Hero Force data in that car.”

“It was your Porsche, your civilian Porsche!”

“My fault to have left sensitive data out,” the Sun says. His confession surprises you into silence. “But I had to get it back no matter what. Then I blamed you by thinking how if you’d only asked me to take my daughter to Prom, I would’ve known she was in the car.”

“She’s not your property and it’s not the 1800s, of course I didn’t ask if I could take your daughter to—”

“I’m telling you what I thought,” the Sun interrupts. He finally looks at you. He looks worse than he did earlier, the years cutting deep lines into his face. There are black bags of exhaustion under his watering eyes. He breathes out shakily. “I had to tell myself it was your fault. It was the only way I could survive, Elian.”

Your real name shocks you. You stumble back. “How do you know that name?”

“She calls for you sometimes,” the Sun says. He drags a hand over his face before grimly returning to his daughter’s nails. “She’s never been really conscious for long. The d-damage took a long time to heal. But when she’s awake, she calls for you and she calls for Outlaw. Wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

Your chest throbs. “I should have been here. You should have—I could have—”

“Blaming you let me keep her by my side,” the Sun says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even understand me. But I…I regret more than anything what I’ve done to my daughter.”

“You’re going to regret it even more,” you say. The rage you feel is like a tidal wave. Ten years. Ten years. You could have held her hand through her recovery. You could have been there for her. And this selfish asshole who never even loved her like a father should took that away from you. You remember your gun. “You never deserved to be her father.”

“I didn’t, did I?” the Sun asks. He sets her hand down and swallows hard. He looks down the barrel of your gun without flinching. “She says one other thing, you know. When she asks for you.”

The curiosity stills your trigger finger. “What?”

“She says, Don’t kill heroes.”

Your face contorts. There’s the memory of popcorn in your mouth and the heat of her eyes on you. “Yeah, she said that to me before too. Back when I offered to kill you the first time.”

The Sun hangs his head. If he’s surprised to hear that, he doesn’t show it. “I wasn’t a good father.”

“No. But she didn’t want you dead.”

Understanding dawns. “Don’t kill heroes.”

“Exactly.” You tilt your head. “Do you feel like a hero?”

His lips tremble. His gaze drifts back to his daughter. Her eyes are flickering under eyelids. “I—I—”

The trigger presses back against your finger, eager and ready. “Do you?”

He licks his lips. “N-no,” he whispers. He closes his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

This time, it’s easy to take aim. Steady your breath. And—

Fuck.

“Leave,” you say. You drop your gun back to your side and scowl when the Sun’s eyes fly open in surprise. “If you do what I say, you’ll live long enough for Gina to decide what to do with you. Leave and don’t tell anyone about this.”

The Sun shakes his head. “No, no I can’t leave her—”

“Then die here,” you snap. You bare your teeth at him. “Leave. We’ll be gone in a week. Maybe she wakes up and calls you. Maybe she—” You take a deep breath. “Well. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, your part is done here.”

“I need to be there when she wakes up. Please, I’m her dad—”

“You’re her murderer,” you say. More than anything, you want to pick Gina up and run out of here before the Sun can stop you. You eye the monitors and know three people you need to call for advice before you even attempt to move her. A week should be just enough time to disappear. “You think you deserve to stay by her side?”

The Sun opens his mouth twice before he finds words. “I just—let me stay until she wakes up. That way I’ll know.”

“I spent ten years thinking she was dead,” you say. “You can last a month in limbo. If I have to ask you again, we’ll finally see who’s stronger now that I’m all grown up.”

The Sun picks himself up slowly. You think he cries. You’re not sure. He may even plead with you again. You’re deaf to it. Your brain has given up on splitting your attention and every atom of your being is homed in on Gina.

She’s alive. She’s alive.

You kneel at her bedside and wait for her to wake up.

----

Thanks for reading! If you want to read more of work or get access to stories like this a week (or more!) early, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! This week's short story for my Triple Shot and above tiers is about a world where being loved adds years to your lifespan!

Based off this prompt (X): Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

[planetaryupscaled]

Three Times is Perfect

Male Reader x Haerin x Minji

Tags: 7k, first time, creampie, oral, threesome, tw

“Are you ready for me? I hope you’re saving up for when I see you tomorrow 😘”

Minji attached a video. It was taken right before we were going to be separated for months. The video started on her face, scrunched up in pleasure, then scanned down her chest to her perky tits that were crowned by stiff nipples. The video kept going down, showing her taut, flat stomach and the perfectly smooth shaved pussy.

Further down, I could see her pussy lips welcoming my cock over and over again accompanied by a wet sound.

Behind the camera, I could hear myself saying in a low, gruff voice, “Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.”

“Just cum inside me,” Minji moaned. “Cum in me...”

The video shows me bottoming her out as far as possible, before emptying a week’s worth of cum into her pussy. Minji moaned off-camera as I pulled my cock from her grasping pussy, allowing the cum to spill out of her, it’s overflowing. I paused the video.

“Come on,” I typed back.

“That is not fair. You’re making it difficult for me to stick to our agreement.”

I must admit that quitting masturbation for weeks was more difficult than I expected. But the girlfriend was going to be out of town for that whole time, and I’d agreed to save it for her. Knowing the pent up passion will make my first time fucking her in weeks even better.

Our junior year of college ended three weeks ago, so our entire group of friends decided to take a vacation at Yejun’s family’s home in Jeju before starting our summer jobs, and Minji needed to visit family, so she was only coming for the last leg of the trip.

“Only 16 more hours,” Minji texted back. “I get in late tonight.”

“Wake me up when you do,” I replied.

“I’ve got a few ideas.” She attached another picture, this time of herself with two fingers buried inside her wet pussy.

“Too much teasing and it’s only 9 a.m. - I’m blocking you” I joked, before hearing a knock at the door.

“One sec.” I called out, before texting Minji: “Have to go, big day of hiking ahead.” I put my phone down, then yelled to the door “Come in!”

Haerin stepped through the door, looking alert and chipper in athletic attire. She took in the room, frowning.

“We’ve only been here one night and your room already look like garbage dump.”

Kang Haerin. My childhood friend grew up two houses from me. We both went to the same college, which was several states away from our hometown, and we remained good friends. However, I can’t say no one asked about me and Haerin, since we’re really that close.

She was undeniably beautiful. I wonder how she can be her while I’m just… me? God really has a favorite.

Though many of our friends say that Haerin has a cat-like personality. That’s right, ‘a cat’ as in small domestic animals covered with fur. See, I'm not sure where they got that idea.

Watching her grew into a stunning, willowy woman with a shapely ass and breasts that were on the smaller side but perfectly fit her short frame. I knew she was beautiful, but our relationship was never particularly romantic, which suited us perfectly. We worked too well as friends to risk anything. Besides, she had been the one to introduce me to Minji, and Haerin was dating Yejun.

“You know how I feel about putting clothes in drawers while on vacation. Besides, you don’t have to share my room,” I said.

I stealthily tucked my erection into my waistband and stood up, brushing past her to grab one of the shirts from the ground to put it on.

“You’re horrible,” Haerin said with a laugh. “Anyway, I was just coming to rouse you for breakfast. Everyone else is done eating.”

“Should I pack a hat?”

“I don’t know. Yejun said there was a chance of rain. Can I check the weather from your phone?”

“Sure.”

Haerin picked up my phone, then let out a yelp and dropped it. She blushed furiously “Waaaa, Sorry, Sorry!”

“What?” I crossed to the bed and picked up my phone. Minji had texted one last picture, this one a closeup of us having sex. The caption read: “Don’t tire yourself out too much.” Haerin had picked up my phone only to get an eyeful of my cock stretching out her friend’s pussy.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that would be up on my phone,” I said, embarrassed. “Minji’s been... sending me stuff in preparation for her arrival tonight.”

“Oh, yeah- no, I get it.” Haerin blushed even deeper, then paused. “I- I only looked for a second, so I barely saw anything.”

“No, of course.” I said.

She looked more flustered than I had seen her in a long time. Neither of us knew what to say.

“I- I’ll just check the weather on my phone,” Haerin said, rushing out of my room.

Given that she was dating Yejun, I assumed she had overcome her embarrassment and shame about sex, but she was still fairly innocent. However, she had just been surprised with a close-up photo of her two friends having sex, so who wouldn’t be embarrassed?

—

Despite the late start, a few cups of black coffee jolted me awake for the hike. Our other friends were experienced hikers who were glad to drag us along at their rapid pace, up trails with pine needles that covered treacherous rocks and roots. I spent the majority of the hike watching where I put my foot, expecting to twist my ankle at any second. When I did hike without my eyes glued to the ground, I found them drawn up perfect, toned, slender legs to Haerin’s ass in her tight athletic shorts. She was walking ahead of me, holding hands with Yejun.

I shake my head. Clearly, a combination of Minji’s teasing and the sexual frustration of the last few weeks had transformed me into a dog, slobbering over anything with the slightest female form.

We stopped for water at a clearing that looked out over the miles of trees below us. As I drank from my water bottle, Yejun pulled me aside.

“Can I ask you something? It’s about Haerin.”

“What’s up?” I thought Haerin had told him about the picture she’d seen of Minji and me and I was ready to apologize.

“Haerin and I have been dating for like eight months now, and...” he paused, a little awkward. “I know this is weird, since you guys have been friends forever, but I’m just gonna say it: I kinda thought we’d be doing more, sexually, by now. All we’ve done is dry humping, nothing below the clothes.”

Hearing that was surprising, but not completely unexpected. I don’t know how that made me feel. Part of me was bummed for my friends that they were missing out on all the great things sex had to offer, but another part of me, one I didn’t realize was there, felt a flash of... something. Not surprise, but maybe lust. I tried to kept my face straight as he went on.

“She’s said she’s waiting to actually have sex, which I totally understand, but do you think she’d want to do anything more than just make out and dry hump? Not just for me. I’d like to make her... finish, you know.”

“I haven’t talked with her about it, it’s not the sort of thing we discuss.” I said, truthfully.

“Do you know if she’s ever gone further than that with her previous boyfriends?” He asked.

“What previous boyfriends?”

Haerin had never dated anyone seriously before Yejun. Hell, the only reason I knew she was straight in high school was that she’d talk about having crushes on boys, but when I’d tell her to do something, she’d refuse.

“If I were you, I’d just let her lead the way. She does what she wants, but not before she’s ready.” I added.

On the way back down the mountain I watched Haerin with more curiosity. It certainly explained her reaction to the picture - she was totally inexperienced, so maybe it was more disgust at what she had seen. I felt bad for just leaving my phone open. I knew her well enough to know her reaction wouldn’t be one of judgment, but it had to make her uncomfortable. I resolved to apologize when I got the chance.

By the end of the hike, we were all soaked in sweat. Haerin pulled up her shirt to mop her flushed face, I could make out the tender curve of her breasts beneath her sports bra… I felt another pang somewhere in my stomach…surprisingly hard nipples. When she lowered the shirt she was looking right at me. I looked away, a little too late.

Damn, I thought, cursing the fact that Minji wouldn’t return for another eight or nine hours. I just needed to stop myself from getting horny for long enough not to do something stupid.

—

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed,” Yejun said, getting up. It was late at night and we’d put on a movie after the night of drinking had wound down. Just about everybody had drifted off from the movie and gone to sleep, save for me, Yejun, and Haerin, who’d seen it through to the end. We were all tired, dressed for bed.

“I’ll be right there,” Haerin said, as Yejun wandered off groggily. Then she turned to me, a small smile on her lips. “T minus two hours until Minji gets here. Are you excited?”

“Of course. I miss her a lot.”

“I mean, are you... excited?” Haerin said, gesturing down at my crotch.

“Hahaha,” I said sarcastically.

Haerin sat in a comfortable recliner across from me, her legs crossed under her. Without realizing it, my eyes drifted down her pajama-clad form and I saw with a start that she wasn’t wearing panties under her loose pajama shorts. I could make out a small dark bush and the tight cleft at the top of what seemed to be her beautiful innie pussy. Of course she wasn’t shaven, I thought, my cock beginning to thicken. She’d never even had sex.

“I guess she hasn’t been too far away, considering all those pictures,” Haerin said.

She shifted on the chair. I got an even better view of her small bush, and through it, her neat pussy lips.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. You shouldn’t have to see that.” I tore my eyes away from the faint glimpse of her pussy.

“No, I liked it,” Haerin said. “The wifi’s terrible out here, so my porn has been taking forever to load. Easier to just get it off from the two of you.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” I joked.

“Is there?”

I looked at her, trying to decide whether she was bluffing. We’d both had a lot to drink, but the several hours of the movie had sobered us up. She didn’t usually speak this brazenly.

“Yeah. Videos, too.”

Haerin’s face was now as flushed as mine, is she’s serious?

“Can I see it?”

“Should I airdrop them?”

Haerin stood up and walked across the room to mine. My heart started to beat fast. I couldn’t stand up, because I was so hard.

“Show me.”

I opened my phone, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I pulled up the picture she’d seen, the close-up of Minji’s pussy with my bare cock drilling into it.

“Really?” I asked.

Haerin nodded. She leaned down, and I caught the soft curve of her small breast down her sleep shirt. I hesitated, then thought, Fuck it. I turned the phone to her.

“I’ve already seen this one,” she whispered, sending a shiver up my spine. This was bad. I was too horny. I should lock my phone and get out of here. I swiped to the next one -- the video of me and Minji, paused with the cum trickling out of her pussy, her tits and face in the shot.

“Where are you?”

I rewound the video. The only sound in the room was the slick squishing noise of me and Minji fucking, then her moaning. Haerin’s mouth was half-open as she watched.

“Fuck, Minji, I’m about to cum.” At that, I quickly paused the video, returning to my senses. This was too much. Too personal. Minji wouldn’t want me showing intimate videos of us to one of our best friends. And did I really want Haerin to see my dick? I was more drunk than I thought. And so was she, if she allowed it.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t show you that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Haerin muttered. “It’s… hot. I have a thing for small dicks.”

I looked up at her. She was grinning. We both burst into laughter.

“Oh, you…” I said, leaping up to grab her. She shrieked and tried to make an escape, but I grabbed her and tackled her, tickling her, onto the couch. We were both laughing. Only when I paused for breath did I realize what a bad idea that had been. I was still completely hard, and was only wearing my boxers.

From beneath me, Haerin tickled me back, and I grabbed her arms, trying to keep her from tickling me.

The rest of it happened fast. I was on top of her, hard, and somewhere in the maneuvering, my cock must have slipped out of the hole in my boxers. I knew that reaching down to fix the situation would immediately make it clear to her what had happened, so I tried to keep her pinned, unable to look down. That was my undoing -- Haerin spread her legs, trying to get them around me for some reason.

All of a sudden, as she did, I felt my cock press up through the leg of her baggy shorts, against her mound. She gasped in surprise, moving her lower body back, but all that did was make my cock slip down, nestling into the hot wetness between her pussy lips. It happened so fast I didn’t even think about the fact that she was dripping wet.

“Is that your…” Haerin started to ask, trying to reposition herself.

Then I felt my cockhead slipped inside her opening. We both froze. I looked down. Her pussy lips were stretched around my cock. I didn’t even have time to think about how amazing her pussy looked -- how long I’d wondered what it would look like, what she’d feel like. Though I was only a few inches into her, it was almost too much for me.

“Y- You’re... inside me.” Her voice quavered.

It happened in such slow motion that the freeze-frame image of Haerin below me, looking down in open-mouth surprise at her shorts pulled to the side, her wet pussy clenching my bare cock is imprinted on my mind, though the moment only lasted a second or two.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to...”

“No… I- I wasn’t wearing panties, it’s my...” She trailed off, her breath ragged.

The moment felt like a dream. Neither of us was moving to pull apart. My cock throbbed inside her, and she gasped as I felt her pussy clench. She was getting wetter, somehow. Involuntarily, I pushed an inch further into her, my cock moving on its own to bury itself as deep into her scalding hot pussy as it could.

“Wait…” she said, her voice soft and strained.

“Don’t-” Then she was cut off by a gasp. Her body shuddered, and her legs which still around my back, pushed me deeper into her. I bottomed her out, God her pussy is sooo tight.

Haerin was small, but she could take my whole length buried snugly inside her. Then she came, hard, trying to stifle her own moans while her pussy clenched around my cock.

“Anhh- fuck I’m…cumming...” Haerin whimpered.

Her body jerked, and she wrapped her arms around mine, pushing our bodies together. Her pussy felt too tight. I wasn’t going to last, especially after three weeks of no sex or masturbation. I was bare inside of her, I couldn’t cum in her. With the last ounce of my willpower, I tried to pull out.

“Haerin, I’m gonna…”

I only made it halfway. Haerin, who was still shuddering in orgasm, firmly pulled me back into her. That feeling of sliding my entire length back into her tight pussy was the end of it. I felt my cock swelling up, before I came hard, deep inside her.

As my cock jerked, shooting cum against the back walls of her pussy, her eyes snapped open. She could feel my warmth splashing into her.

“No, no, I’m not…oohhh…”

She writhed in orgasm again, while I emptied weeks’ worth of cum into her. Any thought of trying to pull out was forgotten. All I wanted to do was bury into her and fill her up. I came and came. Each jerk of my cock within her drew another small moan from her. Her pussy squeezed my cock tighter than any I had ever experienced.

“Oh my god....” she moaned softly.

I slumped down on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck. We stayed like that for a while, until the last jerks of my cock and the last of her small shudders subsided, indicating that we’d ridden out our climaxes.

I lifted my head to look at her. She was beautiful- wide brown eyes, cheeks flushed, her hair a mess on her sweaty forehead. Through her white sleep shirt, I could see the outlines of her areolae and the tiny tents of her nipples. We looked at each other for quite a while, faces close together, then she shook her head in wonder.

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

Haerin looked down on our connection, where my cock was still buried inside her. Her pussy was overflowing with our mixed love juice, dripping and creaming around my cock.

“You cum inside me…” she said, quietly.

“I- I’m so sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I stopped you from pulling out. I... I’ve never cum that hard before. It was… really good, I didn’t want it to end.”

“Me neither,” I said, and she let out a small laugh. As she did, her pussy squeezed me, milking another drop of cum from me.

I breathed out and lifted myself up, pulling my cock out of Haerin with a soft squishing noise. My cum dripped out from between her legs, and she reached down to catch it with her fingers. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you always... cum this much? How does Minji take it all?”

The mere mention of Minji twisted my insides. “Oh, god…”

“Don’t feel bad. It was an accident.” Haerin was still on her back, legs spread, looking up at me, making no effort whatsoever to conceal her small, hairy, freshly fucked pussy. It was a beautiful sight.

“Yeah, An accident.” I said.

“No need to explain to either Minji or Yejun why you took your best friend’s virginity and pumped her pussy full of cum, especially when it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Oh fuck- Haerin, I…” In the rush of sensations, I had completely forgotten that I had taken her virginity.

She finally stood, barely reaching my collarbone. I couldn’t read her expression. Then she just pulled off her shirt, revealing her beautiful round, petite breasts that sat high on her chest, with brown nipples that looked perfect on her small tits. She slid her shorts down, revealing her pussy in all its glory. A line of cum is dripping down her legs.

“I’m going to need to shower.” She looked dead serious.

I couldn’t tell if she was angry, confused, sad, or… I was horrified to think I’d just ruined one of my longest friendships.

“Haerin, I…”

“Come join me.”

She took a step toward me and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. In my dazed state, I hadn’t tucked my cock back into my boxers, and it was pressing into her mound. I was still wet from our combined juices. Haerin looked up at me. Tentatively as if we hadn’t just fucked, I leaned in to kiss her. Our lips met in a spark of passion, we kissed with an open mouth as our tongues probing hungrily for each other, And as if it had been forever. Finally, we broke apart.

“Losing virginity to your best friend, that was the best way to lose my virginity I could have ever asked for.”

Haerin took my hand and led us to the bathroom before locking the door behind us.

“Never know when Yejun will be back,” she said softly.

Haerin turned on the shower. Undressing myself as I watched her outline in the mirror, her incredible ass, tight and perfect for her frame, and that pristine lips between her legs. She shivered after splashing water on her breasts to test their warmth.

“This place takes forever to turn on the hot water,” Haerin said.

I was zooning out, naked, half-hard, staring at her. “What?”

“Oh- just trying to figure out where we’re going from here.” I added.

“Don’t overthinking it. We will always love each other. One accident won’t change that. Besides, there’s something poetic about losing your virginity to the same person you had your first kiss with. Someone you can really trust.”

As she spoke, she stood close to me in this small bathroom. It was surreal having this conversation with your best friend, not to mention that both of us naked, having just fucked, cum still dripping out of her pussy. I started to get hard again, cursing myself for being this horny.

“Wow,” she said, looking down at my crotch.

“Already? You are insatiable.”

“I’ve just been wondering how you look naked, and here you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

Haerin grabbed my cock with her slender hand.

“Why do you think I wanted to shower with you?”

She got down on her knees, looking up at me with her beautiful eyes and her small mouth half-open. Slowly but surely, she reached out her tongue to lick my tip. A strand of our mixed juice trailed from her tongue.

“Haerin…”

“I’ve never given a blowjob, either,” she said thoughtfully, working her hands up and down my shaft. She circled the tip with her tongue.

“I assumed it would happen before I had sex. I definitely didn’t think I’d be licking my own cum off a cock that had just finished inside me,” she said.

She parted her lips and enveloped my cock in the warm wetness of her mouth. She bobbed up and down on my shaft several times, cleaning her pussy juices and mine off with her tongue. Then she pulled back, looking up at me while continued to jerk my cock.

“I can’t tell if this is you or me, but wow, we taste really good together.”

Before I could answer, she closed her lips around me again, gradually finding a rhythm as she sucked me. I stroked her hair, looking down at the beautiful sight before me, Haerin’s hair is a mess, sucking her best friend cock, her nipples protruded proudly from her pert breast. Her mouth felt almost as amazing as her pussy, and I soon found myself swelling with anticipation. She clearly felt it too as she took me out of her mouth and asked…

“Would you rather cum in my mouth or in my pussy?”

It was strange to hear her, the innocent, sweet, nerdy Haerin, talk like this.

“I didn’t realize you liked talking dirty.”

“You know me,” she said, smiling. “I’m a detail-oriented person.” She continued on sucking, demonstrating a surprising skill despite the fact that it’s her first time giving a blowjob.

She looked up at me and repeated her question.

“So, in my mouth or in my pussy?”

“Honestly I want to do both, but you know me, always indecisive… and God… it’s hard to think with your mouth is on me.”

Haerin stood up as the bathroom started to steam up.

“Think the water’s warm enough?” She asked, grinning.

She pulled me into the shower and our bodies intertwined under the water. I grabbed and kissed her hungrily, working my hands down her breasts, to her side, to her tight ass, pulling her close to me and pressing my cock against her. She lifted her leg onto the side of the bathtub, spreading herself to me. I got down on my knees and pressed my lips against her slit. She moaned in pleasure, but she turned my head, forcing me to look up at her.

“You don’t have to. I… I haven’t shaved.”

“I don’t care about that. Besides, Minji isn’t either.”

“Yeah,” Haerin said, inhaling as I planted a kiss on her nether lips. “I’ve seen the evidence…anhhh” Small moan escapes her lips.

“I want to taste you…”

That was the last word I said before I sank my tongue into her folds, working my way up to her clit and then back down, slowly. I slid a finger into her, pumping slowly in and out as I sucked and licked her clit. I’ve always loved the taste of pussy, and Haerin’s was no exception. As I finger-fucked her, I switched the up and down motion with my tongue to a circular motion, right on her clit.

“Enhhh god, please… just like that,” she whimpered.

“You’re gonna make me cum again... ahhh”

I kept up exactly like that, furiously tonguing her clit and driving my finger in and out of her. Her breath became heavier, and she pushed herself towards me, grinding hard against my mouth. I savored the taste of her tangy opening as she approached her second orgasm of the day.

Finally, with a great heaving sigh and a jerk of her body, she came. While her first orgasms had been hard and all-consuming, but relatively short, this one lasted longer, crashing like a slow wave. I held my mouth to her pussy and continued what I was doing until she stopped thrashing. She lifted me up and kissed me passionately.

“So, what do I taste like?” She asked smilingly.

“Hmm, you taste really good Haerin”

“Have you ever tried lemon zest?” I added.

“Mmm”

“You taste just like that,” I said, grinning.

She stood there for a moment, thinking about what I had just said, then she slapped my hand playfully, and we both burst out laughing.

I kissed her again, silencing her protest. She felt my cock nuzzled at her opening. She reached down and pump it up and down, stroking it up and down in a slow motion, we broke our embrace and she looked up at me. Water cascading down her breasts and dripping off her nipples.

“You didn’t cum in my mouth, and it seems that your dick made the choice for you. In my pussy it is.”

“Haerin. Once is an accident, twice is a choice,”

“Just for tonight, kay? I need you in me.” She said softly.

I slowly began to push in through her tight pussy lips, a thought crossed my mind and I looked at her.

“You’re not on birth control, are you?” She shook her head, kissing me again and spread her legs wider so I could go deeper into her. And deeper it went, I began to push deeper, faster, and harder over and over again as her pussy stretching to accommodate its intruder.

“I could have sworn you got bigger just now,” she whispered, a small moan escapes her lips with every thrust.

“Maybe I like cumming inside you without protection.”

“Ehm yeah? maybe I like that, too… Ahh”

I looked down at our connection, how her perfect lips split open by my grith. She was so unbelievably silky and wet, the perfect pussy that I would ravage forever if I had the chance. And I was bare inside her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her pussy or her petite breasts, barely moving as I bottomed out in her again and again.

“Can I ask you something?” she panted between strokes.

“What?”

“Who... who feels better? Who do you like fucking more? Me or Minji?”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “Look who I’m inside of right now.”

Talking about Minji while fucking Haerin emphasized the forbidden feeling of it all. I could feel another orgasm rushing on, so I closed my eyes and tried to delay it.

“But if you had to say. And you can be honest.” She said.

“When I fuck Minji,” I said, slowing down my frantic thrusting.

“It’s amazing. She has the most incredible body, experienced, and knows exactly what to do to get me to cum. Sometimes I just enjoy burying myself in her pussy and feeling all of her around me”

“God, Haerin, you are so tight…” I stopped, holding my throbbing cock as far into her as it would go. Her eyes were mostly closed, savoring the feeling.

“Sometimes when I finish in her, she’ll reach down and taste me. Which just gets me going again. I have filled her up every different way. Just about every time you’ve seen her, she’s been full of me.” Haerin moaned at this, clenching me inside her.

“But you… it’s a whole different thing, fuck…” I growled.

I started to build up the pace, gripping her tighter as I pound her faster. Haerin wanted to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

We froze.

“Haerin? Are you in there?”

It was Yejun. He sounded tired. Haerin looked at me, unsure what to do.

“Nghh…yeah,” she called out. “I’m almost done.”

“Why are you showering this late?”

I could hear the wet squelch of her pussy even over the rushing water of the shower as I slid my cock in and out of her. She struggled to maintain her voice even as she responded.

“I- I was feeling… a little dirty…mmhh”

“Are you okay babe?” Yejun asked.

“Hmm… yeah… I- I just need a moment- nghh…”

I couldn’t hold out much longer. I whispered in her ear as I thrust into her “I’m going to cum.”

“Don’t cum too much,” Haerin warned in a low voice, pausing to gasp as I bottomed out in her. “You’re still going to need some for Minji tonight.”

“I’d rather use it all up in you.”

“Alright, I’m going to sleep,” Yejun said from outside.

He had no idea I was fucking his girlfriend for the second time ever, readying to burst my cum into her unprotected pussy, again. Haerin maintained eye contact with me as I sank deeper into her.

“I’ll come soon,” Haerin shouted to him, in a voice that I was sure sounded like she was being fucked. I looked down at her naked body, taking in the sight of her pink ravaged pussy and her firm tits, my thrusts increasing in intensity.

“Haerin…” That was all I could groan out before I pulled her tightly as I buried my cock as deep as it could go into her and burst my second load, painting her wall white as far as it could reach. I’m sure her womb is full of those small tadpoles by now.

Last time had been incredible for its novelty, but it had all happened so fast that I didn’t take it all in. This time, I looked down at her, eyes wide open in pleasure as she felt the warm of cum quickly filling her up. I pulled out halfway and pushed in again, watching, satisfied, as a glob of cum was pushed out around my cock, painting her lips white.

Haerin held me hard, flinching as she came down from her orgasm, while I fucked my last drops of cum into her. I was as far up her pussy as I could go and there was nothing between us. I looked down at her cum-filled pussy split open as I pulled out. Cum poured out of her and onto the floor of the shower.

She inserted two fingers into herself and pulled them out, covered in cum. She brought her fingers to her mouth and let me watch as she licked them clean.

“Better than Minji?” She asked with a low voice. In response, I leaned in to kiss her, our two tastes mingling as our lips met.

We toweled off quickly and went our separate ways after one last kiss. The last thing I thought before falling asleep was “I hope we did a good enough job washing each other off and -- out of ourselves.

—

I woke up the next morning, groggily taking in my surroundings, it was sunny in my room. Minji’s bag was on the desk. I realized Minji must have gotten in and not woke me up, or worse, she’d tried to wake me up and I’d been too tired. Then I felt a warm, wet mouth wrap around my cock, which was rapidly hardening. I Recognize Minji’s incredible lips as she looked up at me, smiling around my cock.

“Good morning!” She was topless, her breasts hanging down enticingly.

“I’m so sorry, I was really sleepy last night” I said.

Minji ran her tongue up the length of my cock, slowly and thoughtfully. “You know you talk in your sleep, right?”

“What?” I asked.

“Well, usually you don’t, but you must have been very tired.” She punctuated her sentences with slow licks on my cock. “See, when I came in and got naked and tried to wake you up, you said the darnedest thing.”

Minji buried my cock in her mouth, deepthroating me until her nose was pressed against my pubic bone before pulling back out, lines of spit connecting her mouth to my shaft. I looked down at her, puzzled.

“Right around the time I got you into my mouth, you looked at me and said, A third time in one night.” As she said that, my stomach clenched

She climbed up the bed, angling my cock in between her folds. “I didn’t know what that meant, but then you said, If we keep this up, Haerin, I’ll have no cum left for Minji.” She sat down on my still-wet cock, letting me bury myself into her velvety pussy.

“At first, I thought it might just be a wet dream. But then I tasted your cock and wouldn’t you know it, I could swear you tasted... different.” She lifted off of me, angling my cock into her for maximum tightness, then slowly inched back down. My head was filled with competing emotions; I was turned on, guilty, horrified, and excited all at once.

“Minji…”

“Did you fuck Haerin?”

I didn’t know what to do or say, besides… “I’m sorry...”

She sped up on top of me, working my cock inside her as only she knew how. “I thought she was a virgin.”

“She... she was. The first time was an accident,” I regretted and cursed myself. After these words left my mouth. Why the hell did I have to say ‘the first time?’

“The first time was an accident huh...and the second?”

“It was- less of an accident…” This was crazy. What was going one? She didn’t seem to be mad, asking the questions in a matter-of-fact tone, as if we were having a simple conversation while I was fucking her.

“I’m guessing you didn’t wear a condom based on the taste she left on you.” I shook my head slowly. “Lucky her. She loses her virginity by having raw sex with her best friend. Did you cum inside her?”

I nodded. My cock throbbed inside Minji, edging closer to orgasm. We both felt it. She kept her pace, sliding her perfect pussy up and down my cock.

“She got three weeks’ worth of your cum. Was her pussy... overflowing?” she asked, again.

All I could do was nod, getting closer to my own orgasm, what the hell with all these questions anyway?

“Are you thinking about it right now? Picturing how she looked?”

“It’s- hard not to, when you asking about it… nghh fuck Minji”

“Are you gonna cum in me while thinking about Haerin?

In response, I pushed all the way into Minji and emptied the cum I had left up her pulsing canal. She moaned louder, grinding her clit hard against mine, and she cummed too. I held Minji close as my cock emptying itself inside her.

I noticed a movement near the door.

Haerin stood in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the spot where Minji and I were joined: Minji on top in a cowgirl position, legs spread, my cock splitting her open with her ass facing the door. Haerin could see our connection where I was bottoming out deep insider her friend.

Minji saw where I was looking and turned around to see Haerin. Haerin flushed and backed away from the doorway, but Minji called out to her, “You can come in.” After a brief moment, Haerin’s head reappeared, beet-red.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Mean to what?” Minji cut her off.

I was still hard inside Minji and I could feel drops of our cum running down creaming my shaft. Haerin tried hard not to look at it, but failed, miserably.

“You didn’t mean to watch, or you didn’t mean to fuck my boyfriend and take all his cum like a little slut?”

Haerin said nothing, mortified. I didn’t know what to say, either. Minji beckoned Haerin over to the bed, and she came hesitantly. She was wearing the same sleep shirt as last night, and her stiff nipples were clearly visible through it, maybe aroused by this all.

“Did you like watching us?” Minji asked and Haerin just nodded.

“Say it.”

“I liked watching,” Haerin said timidly.

“You liked watching what?”

Haerin swallowed nervously. “All of it. I liked... watching you... suck him off. I liked watching your pussy being pounded by him. I liked- watching… his cumming inside you.”

I was surprised to hear Haerin say that. The submissive side of her had taken over.

“Come here, you little slut.” Minji commanded.

Haerin got onto the bed, following her order. “Now I want you to taste our connection.” Haerin looked confused, so Minji clarified “Taste the place where he’s entering me.”

I was still rock-hard between Minji's lips. Haerin slid between my legs, looking directly at Minji's supple, round ass cheeks and her trimmed pussy around my cock. She tentatively reach oud her tongue to the underside of my cock. Slowly, she ran it up my shaft, gathering cum and Minji's cream on her tongue before reaching Minji's stretched pussy lips. She licked them up and around my cock, allowing me to feel her tongue on every pass. Minji breathed out slowly, clearly enjoying it.

“Now I want you to take him out of me and clean him off,” Minji said.

Haerin slowly reached out to grab my cock, which was slick with Minji's juices and my cum, and withdrew it from Minji with a soft squish. More of cum dripped on my cock. Haerin opened her mouth and leaned down take me in her mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” Minji said. “Keep it in your mouth.”

Haerin bobbed her head up and down, deliberately licking and sucking the wetness off my cock. Directly in front of her nose was Minji’s opening with cum dripping out slowly.

“Now put your mouth on my pussy and put it back in me.”

Haerin couldn’t reply, her mouth full, she looked hesitant. Minji rolled over, spreading her legs in front of Haerin.

“Haven’t you gotten enough of it? Put his cum back inside me.”

I was certain Haerin wouldn’t do it. Fucking me was one thing, eating Minji’s pussy was another. Would this new, submissive Haerin go for it? Still, she was holding the excess cum in her mouth, not swallowing it. She looked caught.

Minji absentmindedly rubbed her clit while waiting. Then, to my surprise, Haerin darted her mouth toward Minji's pussy, pressing her lips against it and reaching out her tongue to let the cum in her mouth dribble back into Minji's waiting hole. Minji moaned in pleasure.

“Keep going... make sure you get it all in...”

Haerin used her tongue to push the cum that had dribbled out of Minji’s pussy back in. She began to fuck Minji with her tongue, in and out of her sopping hole, tasting my cum every time she reached deeper into Minji. Minji closed her eyes, rubbing her nipples with one hand and using the other to press Haerin’s face into her womanhood.

I was rock hard again. Haerin was eating the cum out of Minji’s pussy, or, I guess, putting it back in. Was this a dream?

Minji writhed on the bed as Haerin continued lapping at her, bringing her tongue from the bottom of her pussy, where the cum had pooled, to the top, hungrily licking her clit. Minji gasped, her body rocked with waves of orgasm, and still Haerin kept going. I had never seen Minji orgasm from this angle, normally I was part of the process, and it was hot to see her body constrict in pleasure, tits bouncing, eyes screwed shut. It was even hotter watching Haerin eat her out.

Finally, Minji pulled Haerin's face away from her, which was wet with spit and our mixed juices. Both girls were panting.

“Have you ever gone down on a girl before?” Minji asked. Haerin shook her head, wiping off her mouth. She looked dazed but horny. “You’re good at it.”

Minji looked over at me, at my cock, which was standing upright. “And after all that, he’s still ready.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” was all I could manage to say.

Minji sat up and pushed Haerin down onto the bed, on her back. Under the sleep shirt, Haerin was wearing a pair of grey panties that were fully soaked through. Minji pulled the panties down, revealing Haerin’s wet, drenched pussy. As Haerin spread her legs, I watched her pussy lips come unglued from each other, revealing pink folds inside.

Minji reached down, into her own pussy, scooping my cum onto her fingers. She reached over and sank those fingers into Haerin’s. She moaned, writhing on the bed.

“You don’t need the extra lubrication,” Minji said, reaching down to spread her wetness over my cock. “But it’ll get you started.”

Minji pulled my cock to Haerin’s opening. I adjusted myself on the bed, getting up so I was supporting myself over Haerin. Minji slowly rubbed my tip up and down Haerin’s sopping lips, before putting me between them. Haerin cooed in pleasure.

“Show me how you fucked her.”

As I sank into Haerin for the third time, I looked over at Minji. My girlfriend was watching with rapt attention as I bottomed out in Haerin’s pussy. Then I looked at Haerin, who stared up at me with wide eyes. My longtime best friend, the girl I adored, was open beneath me.

“Fill me up again,” Haerin whispered.

“Once is an accident, twice is a choice, but three times?” I asked.

“Three times is perfect.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

How about Pope/JJ having a crush on Topper’s younger sister which is also Rafe’s girl and him making sure he knows his place and the fact that she’s his girl. Maybe she’s the island sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone, and sometimes she hangs out with the pogues (despite her brother and boyfriend hating that) and Rafe noticed how the boy looks at her and decides to put on a little show to prove she’s his girl 🫣🥹

Get in losers, we’re going shopping || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: This was so fun to write thank u for the request 🫶

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, possesive/jealous!rafe, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,837

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board

As you drive along, a smile creeps across your face when you notice JJ and Pope walking on the side of the road. You slow your car, matching their pace, which causes them to exchange puzzled glances before coming to a halt.

Rolling down your window, you lift your sunglasses, locking eyes with the two boys. Their confusion quickly shifts to recognition, and a mix of surprise and curiosity spreads across their faces.

“Hey boys,” you greet them with a smile. “Oh—hey, y/n,” Pope stammers, making you giggle. “This your new car?” JJ asks, patting the sleek Porsche. You hum in response, “want a ride?” you offer sweetly.

The boys exchange a quick glance before sprinting to the passenger side, shoving each other. In the end, Pope manages to snag the seat, and you laugh at their antics.

“I’ll sugar momma you guys today,” you wink at them, moving the stick into gear. They grin widely, and you drive off, the engine purring smoothly. “So, where are we—” Pope starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Rafe’s name flashes on the display, and the boys visibly tense up, their smiles fading as discomfort sets in.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and caution. “Hi baby, whatcha doin’? Thought I might come over to yours in a few minutes, gotta see Top for something too” Rafe’s voice fills the car, a smooth and confident drawl.

“I’m out right now, and I won’t be home for a bit,” you reply, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. The boys sit in tense silence, trying to act nonchalant but clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. The cheerful energy from earlier is all but gone, replaced by a palpable tension that hangs in the air.

It’s silent on the other end before Rafe speaks up again. “Right, where—where are you right now? You with anyone?” he stutters, his tone shifting to one of suspicion. Pope’s eyes widen, and he freaks out. “I don’t think we should be here right now,” he mutters under his breath. Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, dude!” JJ whisper-yells, trying to keep his voice low. You throw JJ a look that clearly says he isn’t helping.

Hearing the voices, Rafe stands up from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed. “Who was that?” he questions sharply. You glance at the boys, feeling the weight of the situation.“Uh, I’m just with Pope and JJ,” you quietly admit, bracing yourself for Rafe’s reaction.

There’s a brief, tense silence on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear Rafe’s jaw clench. You know how your boyfriend feels about you hanging out with them, and the tension in the car thickens as you wait for his response.

“Are you serious right now? How many times have I told you I don’t want you hangin’ around with them?” He angrily says. You roll your eyes, already feeling the annoyance building. “Rafe, I’m not having this conversation with you right now, okay?” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No. We’re having this conversation right now. Does Topper even know you’re hanging out with those Pogues?” Rafe snaps back, his tone leaving no room for argument. You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Pope and JJ, who look increasingly uncomfortable.

“Rafe, not right now. I’m hanging up, okay? Hanging up right now—” you begin, but Rafe interjects, “Don’t you dare—”Before he can finish his sentence, you press end call. The car falls into an uneasy silence as Pope and JJ sit there quietly, processing what just happened.

“Uhm, so that just happened,” Pope says, staring out at the road in front of him as you chuckle. “I’m so sorry you guys had to hear that,” You apologetically say, biting your bottom lip anxiously, “Nah, don’t even worry about it,” JJ reassures you as you smile at him through the rearview mirror. “Do you guys wanna get some gelato? I’m craving some right now,” You offer as you turn into the main road of Kildare.

~

Opening the door to your house, you pause for a moment as your eyes fall on Topper and Rafe lounging on the sofa. Topper is scrolling through his phone, barely glancing up at your entrance, while Rafe reclines with a smug look on his face.

“Where have you been?” Topper asks, his gaze still fixed on his phone. You hesitate, glancing at Rafe, whose smirk only deepens. “Uh, did Rafe not tell you?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion since you for sure thought that he would tell your brother who shared the same disdain towards JJ and Pope.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s causing. “Tell him what?” he says innocently, leaning back further into the cushions. “Oh, nothing. I was just hanging out with my friends,” You say as you slip off your sandals, Topper giving you and Rafe a suspicious look.

“Yeah, okay. How’s your new car, by the way? Have you scratched it yet? Cause if you did, you know Mom and Dad will throw a fit,” Topper says casually, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar sting of his passive-aggressiveness. Without responding, you turn to leave the room.

Rafe gets up from the sofa and follows behind you, his expression unreadable. “How does my little sister end up with a Porsche for her first car anyway? It’s fuckin’ unfair,” Topper’s voice jeered from the adjacent room, his tone laced with mockery. “Shut up, Topper!” you retorted, frustration seeping into your voice as Rafe let out a soft, amused snort.

“What are you doing here, by the way?” you ask Rafe who shuts your door behind him as you set your shopping bags down on the ground. “Can I not see my girlfriend?” he says with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he lounges comfortably on your bed.

You pause, studying his expression for any hint of underlying motive. “I just thought you wouldn’t wait for me after I told you who I was hanging out with,” you say cautiously, carefully avoiding mentioning JJ or Pope by name.

Rafe’s response is nonchalant, almost dismissive. He simply shrugs, as if your concerns are of little importance to him. “Don’t care,” he replies coolly, his tone betraying no trace of emotion. You lean against your window, raising an eyebrow at his nonchalance. “Really?” you say, not quite believing him.

He hums, his expression unchanged. “Yeah, really.” You slowly nod, still feeling a bit skeptical. “You coming to the party tonight, right?” Rafe speaks up, breaking the tension as you throw your new clothes into your hamper. “I didn’t even know there was a party tonight, but sure,” you shrug, before collapsing on top of Rafe, who exaggerates a loud groan in response, playfully protesting your weight.

~

Getting out of the car, you could already feel the curious stares people were giving your way as Topper and Rafe walked up behind you. The beach was buzzing with activity, and you took in the scene, noting the mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

Scanning the crowd, you quickly spot JJ and Pope hanging out with a few others near the bonfire. They notice you and wave enthusiastically. A smile spreads across your face as you lift your hand, ready to wave back, but before you can, Rafe grabs your hand firmly.

“C’mon, let’s get some drinks,” he mutters against your ear, his breath warm on your skin. His tone is casual, but the grip on your hand leaves little room for argument. You glance back at JJ and Pope, who are now watching the interaction closely, their expressions shifting to concern.

Reluctantly, you let Rafe guide you towards the makeshift bar set up on the sand. Topper falls into step beside you, his presence adding to the tension. “Here,” Rafe passes you a drink as you gratefully take it.

“What are you looking at?” you ask, staring at Rafe’s side profile. He turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulls you closer. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mutters, his tone trying to sound reassuring but tinged with irritation.

Following his earlier line of sight, you glance over and spot JJ and Pope. They’re laughing with a group of friends, seemingly unaware of Rafe’s intense gaze moments ago. Your stomach tightens as you realize he’s been watching them.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature. You look back at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression is a mask of casual indifference. The contrast between his actions and his words leaves you feeling uneasy,

“Let’s go,” Rafe suddenly stands up, grabbing your hand abruptly, “What?” As soon as Rafe is standing up with you following along, you hear the whistles and low muttering of people. “Everyone shut the hell up!” Topper groans, watching his little sister and bestfriend walk off.

“Rafe, where are we going?” you ask, glancing back at the crowd, feeling the weight of their stares and the palpable tension in the air. “Shh, it’s fine, we’re just going back to your car,” Rafe says, pulling you closer. He leans in to kiss you, and you feel his smirk against your lips. His hands begin to wander, moving further down your back, his touch both familiar and possessive.

“Rafe,” you pull back slightly, your voice tinged with concern. “It’s fine, yeah? Please?” He looks at you with a familiar intensity, his eyes pleading yet commanding. It’s a look you know all too well, one that mixes affection with an undercurrent of control.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you unlock the car and gently push him before settling down on his lap. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close with an almost possessive firmness. You can feel the strength in his grip, the way he presses you against him, as if asserting his claim over you.

“You’re mine, y’know that, right?” he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and slightly ragged. “Mhm, I know that,” you mumble, your hands running through his hair. His fingers dig into your waist, drawing you even closer. His scent, a mix of cologne and the salty sea air, envelops you, creating an intoxicating mix of comfort and confinement.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck as he continues to murmur possessive reassurances.

~

“Y/n?” You lift your head just as you finish zipping up your shorts. “Hey—” The greeting dies on your lips when you find yourself face to face with JJ. “What are you doing here?” you ask, awkwardly chuckling and smoothing down your hair. The sound of Rafe exiting the car behind you adds to the tension.

JJ’s eyes trace your appearance before flicking behind you to Rafe. “We were just about to, uh, leave,” he says, scratching his head. You nod awkwardly. “Hey, Y/n,” Pope greets as he joins the scene, sensing the uncomfortable vibe. You manage a smile at him. “Hi—” you start, but your words falter as Rafe steps up beside you, still buttoning his shirt. JJ and Pope stand there awkwardly, waiting, while Rafe ignores their presence.

“Did you guys have fun?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood. Rafe finally looks up, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at the boys. “Yeah, yeah, it was fun, I guess,” Pope replies hesitantly. JJ’s pained smile shifts between you and Rafe. “You guys sure did, huh?”

Rafe snorts at JJ’s comment, prompting you to slap his chest lightly. There was awkward silence before you speak up, “Did you guys want a lift back?” you offer.

Before they can respond, Rafe interjects, “Baby, you’ve had a few drinks already. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”JJ rolls his eyes at Rafe. “It’s fine, we’ll find our own way home,” Pope says, his smile tinged with sadness. You nod slowly.

“Yeah, you do that,” Rafe says dismissively, pulling you back towards the group. “Come on, babe.” You glance back at JJ and Pope one last time, mouthing a silent apology as they briefly wave goodbye. The expressions on their faces stay with you—a mix of disappointment and hurt that you can’t shake off.

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [6]

Weapon design always came easy to Jack Fenton. He grew up with it, all the way back in Atlantis, when he was just a little guppy.

What he wasn’t aware of at the time was that his parents were from a long and prestigious line of scientists and weapon manufacturers in Atlantean society. But things had been getting dangerous. 

The King at the time cast them out when they refused his demands of greater, stronger, deadlier weapons. The kind of weapons they knew would not only destroy their enemies, but themselves as well.

They fled and went where they thought they would never be found, the surface.

Jack had the easiest time adapting, being as young as he was getting used to breathing air was a lot less of a struggle. 

He adopted one of the most generic male names he could, and adapted the family name of Fenestratus into Fenton. And then it was just living as a human, as humanly as possible, nothing to see here.

By now Jack basically doesn’t know any better. but this piece of heritage is coming back now all these years later, when his son is looking to him for help from the government.

But first he holds his boy close and apologizes, because he sees the fear, and he understands a little too well, and he doesn’t like the picture he’s seeing now that all the puzzle pieces are falling into place.

“I almost became the thing I hate the most. I’m so sorry Danny, I’m sorry I made you feel unsafe in your own home”

The hug is long and warm and tight and Danny isn’t ashamed to admit he might have clung a little bit.

Then Jack holds Danny tightly by his shoulders and gives him a big grin, “Good news though, you’re only half ghost, the other half is not only human but also Atlantean, and there are laws protecting us now” Jack mutters to himself, “I wonder if the whole ghost stuff would actually be put under the meta protection thing… hmm”

Danny blinks for a moment, Jazz gapes, Maddie is suddenly no longer spiraling about how her baby boy got in a terrible accident in their lab and she didn’t know.

“I’m also what?”

“Dad!?”

“oh did I forget to mention that? I thought I did, I know for certain that I had been meaning to”

“Jack sweetie, are you-”

“oh yes, and I remember now, I decided to tell you after our big breakthrough because I didn’t want to distract you, and-” Jack looks sheepish, “I hope you aren’t too mad at me Maddiecakes”

“mad? oh I would never be mad at you about this but we could have- I don’t know, accommodated- Atlanteans are aquatic, well I guess that explains how you could always put away so much water, and when you gave me your umbrella and I thought you were just making an excuse when you told me you didn’t mind and in fact loved getting pelted by the rain-”

Maddie goes on, and Jack thinks to himself that this is exactly the reason why he kept it to himself at the time, Maddie never half asses anything, he’s sure a lot of things are going to change in the house now, it honestly only makes him fall in love with her even more.

Meanwhile Jazz had filled up a bucket of water and then dunked her head in, then came back out not even slightly gasping for breath, just saying “oh my god” over and over.

Danny timed it, “yeah okay, I guess that proves it. now I’m starting to wonder if my weird relationship with air is ghost related at all”

[onlymingyus]

give it to me

pairing;  jeon wonwoo x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; From the outside looking in your life is perfect. It's the perfect ones who are the most fucked up and have the most to lose, or so you thought.

dark/content warnings; murder, kidnapping, talk of abuse, talk of solicitation, illusion to sexual abuse, wonwoo is not a nice guy for a large part of this fic -- hitman!wonwoo, kidnapper!wonwoo, ransom negotiations, corrupt business world, seedy gang/mob underworld, crying (pain and mental pain), depression, fucked up family dynamics, yn has parents/parent death mentioned, police, dead bodies, blood, guns, lying, eating/drinking -- i am sure there is more, this fic can be a lot. please consider the warnings before you read. 

smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (m receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), olfactophilia/mysophilia (panty sniffing), grinding, petnames

w/c; 22k and some change (980~ bonus on patreon only) 

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading this for me! i know i am on a dark fic kick. thank you all for going along on this ride with me -- perhaps you might catch some easter eggs 🤫 -- i really hope you enjoy this one.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Stop pouting.” 

You throw a contemptuous glare towards Wonwoo from the rearview mirror as he sits in the passenger's seat. He was a handsome man with strong features that made you both nervous and furious. He had been assigned to your personal security by your father in the past week after some changes and discoveries with your previous bodyguard had come to light. 

While you didn’t care who watched over you, it was important to your father, who was by his daughter’s side. You had no assumptions that it was because he loved you; no, it was more that you were the heiress of his multimillionaire dollar stock trading company and his only living child. 

“I don’t want to go.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances down at his phone to see a text message from your father, only to let out a sigh. He knew you didn’t want to go; you had been telling him that all day. You were a brat. You were every bit the part of Mr. Y/L/N’s daughter and he could tell that you lived a very charmed life. Rarely were you told no, and the times you were, you threw a fit. 

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t. Today isn’t about you, Y/N. It’s about your father, but you are well aware of that. We’ve talked about it enough times today. Stop pretending that you don’t like attention.” 

Rolling your eyes, you lean your head back as Wonwoo talks down to you. You hated him. He was worse than any other bodyguard that your father had put in his place. He was strict and he degraded you. Your last bodyguard was a sweet man who would let you sneak out and get laid, but Wonwoo was an asshole who triple locked your door. 

“Fuck you. You don’t know me. Stop acting like you do. God, I can’t wait for you to get fired.” 

Smirking, Wonwoo glances at you in the rear view mirror, letting his eyes move over your pretty features as the car comes to a stop outside of the venue. The flashes of cameras already make him feel anxious, but he has started to get used to it. They weren’t looking at him, they were looking at you. 

“That’s sweet, Princess. I don’t want you to like me. They want you to like them.” Wonwoo gestures his head towards the window, drawing your eyes to where people are falling over one another to try to catch a glimpse of you. “Your fans and daddy are waiting.” 

Reaching for your door, you pull on the handle, instantly feeling frustration take hold of you when it doesn’t budge. Glancing back at you, Wonwoo grins before opening his door and moving to yours. Opening it from the outside with ease, the man looks down at you with a smug expression.

You hear your name yelled by several people and lights flash in your eyes before Wonwoo steps in front of the photographers, allowing you to step out of the vehicle. At least he was good for something. Meeting his eyes, you narrow yours for a moment before putting on a pretty, fake smile, letting him know he could move and allow your picture to be taken. 

Wonwoo stays on your left, his eyes watchful as he moves them from you to the crowd and back. He was good at what he did. He could feel the weight of his gun on his side, but he knew he wouldn’t need it, not even if someone did try something. His hands were more than enough to take care of them, but his gaze was deterrent enough. There was something dangerous, almost feral, about Wonwoo’s eyes that told anyone and everyone not to fuck with him, including you. 

Hearing your name, your father sighs and looks towards the double doors. Appearances were everything for him and you looked like you were worth every single penny he had spent on you. While you left much to be desired on the business front, at least he could count on you to look stunning on the front page of a magazine along with his last name. You could make his company's stocks climb by 3% with a smile on a good day, and today was a great day or at least your father wanted it to be. 

“Mm, Y/N, darling.” 

You keep your fake smile on your face, letting your father’s lips brush the corner of your lips before he takes your arm into his. His grip is a little too tight for your comfort, but at events like this, it always is. You hated business dinners. You despised talking to the business partners and their “handsome” heirs. None of them were attractive, no matter how many times your father told you to tell them they were. 

“I want you to meet two of my oldest friends, Hyong Songmin and Hong Jinyoung.”

Clenching your jaw, you glance at your father, knowing where this is going, before he squeezes your forearm to the point of pain and your eyes move to the two older businessmen. 

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes watching you put on a face for the old men. He could tell you didn’t want to be there anymore than he did. Glancing at his watch, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips, listening to the conversations around him while keeping up the appearance of guarding you and your father. 

Reaching out to take your hand from your father, Hyong Songmin is just a bit faster than Hong Jinyoung. Your brow lifts out of curiosity at the two men and their obvious competitive nature before you laugh a bit awkwardly, feeling the older man’s lips brush against the back of your knuckles. 

“No, dear… the pleasure is mine. I wish my son Kihyun was here today, but at least I’m not the only one with a missing son.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung looks you over, almost appraising you, before he meets your father’s eyes and tilts his head like he’s considering a deal. 

“He’s not wrong. Joshua was, I quote, “just too busy with numbers” to attend today. I’m certain he would be ashamed to have missed the opportunity to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” 

You had met Hyong Kihyun before and you had heard some rumblings about Joshua Hong, but you knew what this was really about. This was about your father, his company, and mergers. 

“What a shame... perhaps we can set up another time for my beautiful daughter to meet with either of your dashing sons in the near future. Dinner?” 

Gritting your teeth, you look in your father’s direction, meeting his eyes, only to feel his hand wrap back around your arm. 

“I’m so busy, Father. I’m sure that both of their sons are as well, no matter how large the dowry is.” 

Your father scoffs into a laugh upon hearing the two men laugh at your "joke.” Luckily for him, they had found it amusing, but he had not. Digging his fingers into your arm, your father’s eyes burn holes into your face before he looks towards Wonwoo, clearing his throat to get his attention. 

“My apologies, gentleman. My daughter has her mother’s tongue. Mr. Kim?” 

Lifting his brows, Wonwoo smirks at the name before he meets your father’s eyes, taking your arm when offered to him as your breath quickens. You watch as he leans closer to the bodyguard, whispering something into his ear, only for the man to meet your eyes and nod. 

“Now, where were we? Ah yes, planning dinners for our children. Mine needs a meal and a good night's rest today, but seeing as how your sons aren’t here…” 

You feel Wonwoo guide you towards the back of the banquet hall as your father turns his eyes away from you, distracting his guests. He was good at that, diverting attention from people and things he was ashamed of. That was the reason your mother wasn’t around anymore and no one ever asked why. That was why you were always leaving early if you spoke out of turn, like you did tonight. 

Tugging at Wonwoo’s grip, you feel his hand tighten around your wrist, but he never holds you to the degree that your father does. It never hurts, he always knows when to stop and that you will follow him anyway. 

“Leave it alone, Y/N. You didn’t want to be there anyway.” 

Learning against the wall, you sigh as Wonwoo looks out into the alleyway, waiting for the car to come into view. Glancing back at you, he lifts his brows, almost feeling sympathy for you, but what was there to feel sorry for? You weren’t the type of person that Wonwoo felt anything for. 

Pulling at your elbow, Wonwoo kicks the door to the noisy venue, leaning down to glance in the vehicle and nod at the driver. You hear him mutter a few words before you are ushered into the back, like always. You were used to this song and dance. Anytime you would embarrass your father, it didn’t matter who your bodyguard was, you were always sent back to your apartment and called later with a firm reminder of who you were and who you belonged to. 

So when the car turns in the opposite direction of your apartment, you furrow your brows and look towards the front seat, seeing the wide eyes of your driver. You didn’t know the man’s name; it had never seemed important until this moment. Today he looked scared and you weren’t sure why until he muttered something towards your bodyguard and his voice got louder, feeling the barrel of the gun against his side. 

“I don’t—okay!” 

Tears instantly threaten to well up in your eyes at the sight in front of you. Has your driver done something wrong? Was he a bad man? Has Wonwoo noticed something you hadn’t? Swallowing hard, you reach for your cellphone to do something, anything, when you hear Wonwoo’s tongue click in disapproval. 

“Give it to me. Now, Y/N. I won’t fucking ask again.” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you see that dangerous look making your brows furrow. Seeing his outstretched hand, you whine and shake your head, realizing the situation was the opposite of what you had quickly deduced. Your driver had done nothing wrong. Wonwoo was doing this. You barely knew Wonwoo. He had been assigned to you for less than a week. 

“Wonwoo…” 

“Now!” 

The tears spill on your cheeks when Wonwoo yells at you. You put your cellphone into his hand and sit back in your seat before glancing towards both doors. Your mind goes back to when you arrived at the venue and how Wonwoo had to open your door from the outside. 

“Pull into this parking garage. Fuckin—why are you two making me repeat myself? Just do it!” 

You close your eyes, hearing your driver’s head hit the side of his door when Wonwoo forces the man’s head hard against it. The man lets out a painful sound, along with affirming words, as you feel the car take a sudden left and any light from outside is taken by the oppressive walls of the concrete parking garage. 

The moment the car is in park, you look around for a way to get out, but the sound of Wonwoo’s gun going off pulls your attention back towards him quickly. Meeting his eyes, your hands over your ears, you watch him speak, but you just shake your head until he grits his teeth and forces your hand from your head. 

“Fucking listen to me, Y/N. Be a good girl and I won’t have to hurt you.” 

Your eyes shift to the body of your driver slumped over the steering wheel and the panic rushes back through you, causing Wonwoo to jerk your arm once again. 

“You are worth more to everyone without a bullet in you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Do you understand me?” 

Pleading words fall from your lips just above a whisper as Wonwoo lets go of your wrist, leaning over the man in the driver’s seat. You hadn’t noticed the gloves that Wonwoo always had on until now. It took your brain being shocked into reality for things to sink in. Your door is locked from the outside. The gloves on Wonwoo’s hands. Was that his real name? Kim Wonwoo? 

Pushing the body with his knee, Wonwoo grunts and watches the body fall with a thud next to the car. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. The parking garage was in a secluded part of town and it would take at least a few hours, if not a day for someone to stumble upon it. 

Looking into the rearview mirror, Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows at you as you tremble visibly. He knew you were scared. That was something you were feeling for once, and that made sense. All the times over the past week that he has seen you be unreasonably annoyed over simple shit made this even easier. 

“Let’s go for a drive, Princess.” 

Rubbing at the mascara drying on your fingers, you feel the car come to a stop. Wonwoo sighs, his brows furrowing as he looks around at the empty parking garage and finally back at you. You hadn’t spoken since he had started driving, but he wasn’t complaining. He could hear you crying, your pathetic little whimpering as he drove, but that had been the most of it. You had been resigned to what was happening. You had been “a good girl,” and Wonwoo could give you a bit of credit for that. 

“Home sweet home, Y/N.” 

Looking up, you furrow your brows at the sight around you. This parking garage had clearly not been used in years, probably closer to a decade. The building itself is probably in similar, if not worse, condition. There was nothing about this that you wanted to call home, but as Wonwoo opened his door and moved to yours, opening it, the gun pointed in your direction, and you knew you didn’t really have much of a say. 

“Wh–why are you doing this? Did my father not pay you enough?” 

Scoffing, Wonwoo sighs, leaning back against the door as he waits impatiently for you to gather the train of your tight dress and slide towards him. 

“I thought you were supposed to be smart. Isn’t that what all those degrees on your office wall are for?” 

Your stomach twists at Wonwoo’s words as your high heels unsteadily meet the uneven concrete of the garage. Reaching out with his free hand, Wonwoo tugs you upward and keeps your body against his, letting the barrel of his gun rest against your abdomen as he walks with you. 

“This is ridiculous, Wonwoo. You’re throwing your life away, and for what? A paycheck—” 

Scoffing at your words, Wonwoo cuts you off with a look as he kicks open a heavy door to the stairwell. Obviously, the elevator wouldn’t work in a building like this. You whine at the idea of the stairs in your heels, your eyes searching Wonwoo’s as he shakes his head and digs the gun into your side. 

“You’re the one who’s ridiculous. You look ridiculous and you are acting pathetic. Walk!” Raising his voice, Wonwoo feels your body jerk in his arms before you do as he says and move forward up the stairs. “This isn’t about some stupid ass security job. This is about your daddy, and him paying for you. I was hired to take you, Princess.” 

You feel your knees buckle. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into your arm, lifting you back up as he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He figures you are playing the role of the grief stricken daughter, but in reality, you are fighting the urge between laughing and crying. Your father? Paying for you? Who was stupid enough to think that he would? 

Using his shoulder, Wonwoo pushes open the door to one of the many rooms before letting you stumble inside in front of him. You look around, your brows furrowing in confusion and you feel some disgust at the sight in front of you. You weren’t sure what you had expected. The rest of the building hadn’t given you the impression that any of the apartments would be in good condition, so seeing it firsthand shouldn’t be surprising. 

“Welcome home.” 

You give Wonwoo a look of contempt, making him laugh as he gestures towards a dusty couch with his gun. You didn’t want to sit on the couch. The first thought in your head was that the dress you were wearing cost thousands of dollars and that cleaning it would cost hundreds, but the look in Wonwoo’s eyes made you take a step in its direction. 

“He won’t pay you any money for me. If—listen, Wonwoo... if you let me go, I can pay you the money myself.” 

Sighing, Wonwoo lifts his free hand to his brows, rubbing hard as he watches you. He could see you hesitating to sit down. The way you were brushing at the couch with your fingers only to rub them together as if you were in pain. When you finally sit down, you look stiff and struggle to not let any of your skin touch the dusty material under you. 

“Doubt this is about what you can offer, sweetheart. Get comfortable, you are going to be here for a while. So stop acting like you are going to get the plague from some dust.” 

Wrinkling your nose to the smell of rot, you force your eyes open. You hope that everything that has happened has been a bad dream. Instead, you open them to find things were worse than you remembered. Whining, you push against the leather couch, searching for a way out, only to find Wonwoo leaning against the door, his eyes on you. 

“How was your nap?”

It was interesting to see you like this, out of your element. Wonwoo had grown accustomed to seeing you prim and proper. Your outfits are always in perfect condition—not a hair out of place. Now you are starting to show signs of wear. You had grime on your cheek from falling asleep on the couch, which you hated so much. At least he had been nice enough to let you sleep somewhere soft. 

Rubbing at your cheek, you turn your eyes away from Wonwoo as you shake your head. You were stiff and uncomfortable. You had only fallen asleep out of exhaustion, not because you wanted to or because you were comfortable. The last thing you wanted to do was fall asleep around him. 

“I want to go home.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo runs his fingers along his palm. He knew what you wanted. You had told him many times before finally passing out for a few hours. He had slept off and on, but he was used to living like this. He was a light sleeper and with one movement from you, Wonwoo knew he would be on his feet, ready to put you back where you belonged. 

“And you know the answer to that. So stop fucking telling me. Tell me something different.” 

Biting at your lips, you blink back your tears, glancing over at Wonwoo again. He was so cruel. You try to imagine a world before today when you actually found him attractive and enjoyed pushing his buttons. The idea of it was terrifying now. You had no idea who you had been teasing. You had enjoyed pushing your bodyguards to their limits until you met Wonwoo. 

“You are such an asshole.” 

Wonwoo smirks, his thumbnail tracing the longest line in his palm as he looks over your face, even from a distance. Even with all that grime on your face, you were still beautiful. It was a pity that you were such a bratty bitch. 

“Thanks, I try. You’ve made it easy with your stunning personality.” 

Scoffing, you rub your arms, the chill in the air causing chill bumps to spread along your skin. Wonwoo watches you shiver, his brows furrowing, before he rolls his eyes and moves to his feet with a loud sigh. You watch as he moves to a duffle bag you hadn’t noticed before. Rummaging through it, he tosses a protein bar on your lap, followed by a bottle of water. 

“Eat, we are gonna be here awhile.” 

Your stomach growls at the idea of food. It had been hours since you had eaten anything substantial. Anytime before you would attend an event, you had a habit of skipping a meal in an attempt to make your dress fit better. Now you were mentally cursing yourself for the tradition. 

“I’m fine.” 

Shrugging, Wonwoo takes out his own bottle of water, tossing the cap down on the floor before tipping the bottle back on his lips. His eyes never leave your face as he swallows the water in large gulps until, finally, the last of the water is gone. 

“Suit yourself. I’m not going to force you to eat or drink, Y/N. But trust me, starving yourself won’t make you a martyr. No one cares that much.” 

Wonwoo’s words bite at your self esteem. You look down, your stomach turning as tears run down your cheeks. You knew he was right. Your father probably hadn’t realized you were gone yet, not if the person who had wanted you kidnapped hadn’t sent him a ransom note. Even if they had, your father would keep it quiet until he couldn’t. 

The dinner had ended a few hours ago and your father had already started nursing his headache in typical fashion, a glass of brandy in his hand from the moment he stepped into his house. You had disappointed him. He wished that just once you could attend a business function with him, put a smile on your face, and keep your mouth shut. 

Luckily for him, both men he had hoped would be interested in his proposition had left him with some hope for the future. You hadn’t completely fucked up everything he had been working for. Out of the two men, your father hoped that Hong Jinyoung’s son would be the one who took the bait. While both of the companies were worth something, Hong Investments was like a beacon, and your father was swimming towards the dollar signs. 

Settling into his chair, your father furrows his brows at his phone and the lack of messages from you. You knew he was upset with you. He had sent you away with the new bodyguard, what was his name again, Kim? Sighing, the older man presses down on your name and puts his phone to his cheek, leaning back to take a sip of his alcohol and listening to the phone ring until your voicemail picks up. 

Cursing under his breath, your father tries your number again with the same result before scowling at your picture on his phone. You were ignoring him? You were a prideful brat, but you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew that he would cut off your credit cards if you made him mad enough; no, something else was going on. 

Just as he was about to press down on your name for the third time, an unknown number appeared on his phone. Furrowing his brows, your father starts to wonder if perhaps something happened to your phone—this was you calling from a new number. That didn’t make sense. Sighing into his words, he answers the phone with annoyance and confusion evident in his tone. 

“Hello?”

The man on the other side of the phone smirked at hearing how annoyed your father seemed. He had never met Mr. Y/L/N, but he had heard stories and he knew the man’s pockets were deep. 

“Mr. Y/L/N, good evening.” 

Scoffing, thinking that it’s a solicitor or even a collector of some kind, your father starts to press the end button before he hears the man speak again. 

“Missing something—or someone, I should say?” 

There were many things that your father didn’t enjoy and being pulled along and fucked with was one of them. Sitting up, he narrows his eyes, glancing down into his glass of brandy before taking a sip and letting out a breath between his teeth before answering the man. 

“Like what? Who is this?” 

A grin stretches on the other man’s face as he leans back in his chair, glancing down at the picture of you on his desk. Using the tip of a pen, he pushes the picture around aimlessly before letting out an unamused laugh at the old man’s questions. 

“Don’t play senile. I know you are wondering where Y/N is. As for my name, just call me Mr. Park.” 

There were plenty of Mr. Park’s in Seoul. Rolling his eyes, your father clenches his hand around the brandy glass before sitting it down hard on the table in front of him. 

“Fine, Mr. Park, where is my daughter?” 

Now they were getting somewhere. This is how money is made. Park Bonhwa grins at your picture once again, pulling it back towards him. You were beautiful and even in the candid picture he had of you, he could tell that you were expensive. You were worth every penny he had been offered to set up this job. 

“With a friend... where she will stay, until we can come to an agreement.” 

At those words, a smile pulls at your father’s lips. The idea of you being kidnapped is ridiculous; you had a bodyguard—handpicked by him—with you at all times. Shaking his head, he laughs, causing Park Bonhwa’s grin to slip and his jaw to tighten. 

“You think this is some kind of fuckin’ joke, old man? I’ll have him cut off her fingers one by one and put them on your door. Don’t you ever laugh at me again.” 

It was a joke and your father wasn’t intimidated. He would prefer to have you back in one piece, but how much this Mr. Park wanted for you was going to determine that. This wasn’t the first time that your father had been threatened and he wouldn’t turn over and show his belly to just anyone. 

“Apologies; please continue with your script. How much are you wanting for my daughter?” 

Furrowing his brows, Bonhwa finds himself a bit flustered and confused by your father’s tone and his choice of words. Was he not concerned about your safety or the condition you might be returned in? Shaking his head, he pushes forward with his task as he licks his lips and pushes your photo away. 

“10 billion won, and I can promise she will be returned to you safe—” 

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” 

After being cut off by your father, Bonhwa grits his teeth and sits up in his chair. He hadn’t played the middle man for many kidnappings, but they had never been unsuccessful. Yours shouldn’t be either. The plan seemed flawless; you were going to die either way. 

“Excuse me?” 

Standing up, your father shakes his head and looks at the phone as if the man is standing in front of him and he could shake some sense into him. He was looking at the phone as if he could teach the man how to do business better, as if the man wasn’t telling him he wanted money for his daughter’s life. 

“She’s not worth that amount of money. Where did you pull that number from? Your ass?” 

Picking at the granola bar, you could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you when his cellphone had gone off in his pocket. Yours had gone off a few times earlier, but he had just glanced at it and finally turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. You figured it was your father and by the look on Wonwoo’s face, he wasn’t in the mood for your phone or his. 

“What?” 

Watching him, you furrow your brows as Wonwoo lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Maybe it was his boss? Did he have one? He had said he was hired to take you, so there was someone in charge of this. If so, why did Wonwoo look so annoyed by the man? 

“Negotiations? So what the fuck—no? What? No, I fuckin—you know what?” 

The conversation didn’t seem to be going well. If it were about your father, you could only imagine how poorly it could be. You had tried to warn Wonwoo and you had tried to make this easier on yourself and him, and yet here you sat on a filthy couch in the middle of nowhere. 

Park Bonhwa’s voice was like tin foil on a grater to Wonwoo. The man was an idiot, but he had lined Wonwoo’s pockets for this job. However, this job was starting to look like more of a pain in the ass than it had to be. 

“Don’t you tell me anything, Jeon! You’re my help. I hired you. He’s gonna agree; he just needs the motivation. Take a picture of the little bitch after you rough her up.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances over at you, watching you glance down quickly. You were afraid of him or at least afraid of the situation. He didn’t want to rough you up; he didn’t hit women. Sure, he had taken you and threatened you, but he had never hit you. He had never hit a woman in his life. Killed them? That was left up for debate, if they deserved it. 

“Yeah, whatever…” 

Hanging up, Wonwoo drops his hand to his side as he tilts his head. You already looked like shit. Maybe he could figure out another way to do this. 

“Y/N, get up. Come over here.” 

You swallow hard and shake your head. You weren’t sure what he had been told to do and you didn’t want to make any of it easy for him. Has your father really said no? Was he going to kill you now? Make you walk to him so he could put a bullet in your head? Deviantly, you grab at the couch under you, letting the granola bar slip off your lap and into the floor as Wonwoo watches his frustration rise. 

“Get the fuck up! I am giving you the chance to do this yourself. Don’t make me fucking move you myself.” 

When you still don’t move, sitting firmly on the couch, Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that almost sounds like a growl from his throat. Your eyes meet his and he sees the fear mixed with anger in them when his hand wraps around your bicep so that he can lift you from the couch by force. The pain reminds you of your father’s grip on you, and you feel tears collecting on your eyes, but you will them back, not wanting to give Wonwoo the satisfaction of seeing them if this is the last thing he sees of you. 

“Walk! Goddammit, why are you so fucking stubborn? I wouldn’t have to be so damn mean to you if you’d cooperate with me. You realize that? Here! No, I said here!” 

A whimper slips from your lips as you stumble in your heels, feeling your ankle roll when Wonwoo pushes you against the wall. You feel the peeling paint against your skin and you smell the mold radiating off the drywall as you squirm in his grasp until finally Wonwoo’s anger gets the best of him. A hand slams into the wall next to your head, mere centimeters from your face, making you stop moving. 

You stare at Wonwoo’s hand, letting your eyes move to his wrist and forearm, where his muscles are tense from the amount of pressure he used. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining how bad it would have hurt if he had chosen to hit you instead of the wall. 

Wonwoo swallows hard, feeling you go pliant in his grasp. While he was used to his life, it didn’t make moments like this enjoyable. You had been a bitch to him and others around you, but it didn’t make scaring you to this point seem fun. Taking a breath, Wonwoo watches the tears run down your cheeks as he pushes away his compassion and rubs his hand against the dirty wall before grabbing your face and hearing you sob, begging him to stop. 

“Shut up and listen to me.” 

Tilting his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes, almost eyeing your face like a canvas as he uses the dirt on his fingers as paint while he talks. 

“You’re fucked, Y/N. Daddy isn’t willing to hand over the money like they thought he would, so they want... wanted me to fuck you up.” 

Moving his hand back to the wall, Wonwoo uses your tears on his fingers to collect more of the dirt, moving his hand back to you and wrapping his hand around your throat. You tense, your hand moving to grab his forearm, nails digging into his skin, causing Wonwoo to hiss before he tightens his grasp around your throat only for a moment and loosens it. 

“I’m doing this to make it look like I beat you. I don’t beat women.” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo watches confusion walk over your face before he clarifies. “Doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. One bullet to the back of your head and you are done, Princess.” 

He was a complicated and confusing man. You could appreciate that he wasn’t going to actually beat you like he was told to, but he was still scaring you. He was still reminding you that he could and would kill you easily. Reaching up, you start to wipe your tears but Wonwoo grabs your wrist and shakes his head before tilting it. 

“Let them run through the dirt... Makes you look more pathetic, plus... there’s something red in the dirt and your tears make it look like you are bleeding.” 

Wonwoo looks through the pictures he sent to Bonhwa. They were too convincing, but he owed that to how terrified you were while he had taken them. Glancing over to where you lay on the couch, Wonwoo sighs, seeing the dirt still covering your face. 

It had been over 16 hours since he had taken you, and you were still in that dress. It was filthy and ripped. Your shoes were now off because your ankle had started to swell after you had rolled it. Now Wonwoo couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned the floor of the dilapidated apartment, seeing rusty nails, glass, and pieces of metal that could all end up in your feet. 

He shouldn’t care. After the pictures had been sent to Bonhwa, he received another call. Your father still wasn’t sending money and it didn’t matter anyway; Bonhwa’s contract wanted a bullet in your skull. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to bankrupt your father. The man wanted to make sure every point of income, including children, was cut off from him. 

Sliding his duffle bag closer to him, Wonwoo digs through his supplies, counting up his rations and looks over what else he had the forethought to pack. He was used to disappearing for months, even years at a time, so this wasn’t a big deal for him. It was having you here and the gnawing bit of compassion biting at the back of his head that was causing him issues. 

Taking out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes, Wonwoo sighs and narrows his eyes at you. He didn’t care about you. You were a dead woman walking, so why should it matter that the sight of you in that stupid fucking evening dress was making him feel sick? You had been beautiful in it before the dinner. He could admit that to himself. You were a beautiful woman. The dress had probably been custom made for you and right now it represented where you had pretended to come from. All the filth covering it represented what was really underneath all the glitz and glamor. 

Moving to drop the clothes next to you, Wonwoo watches you slowly wake up. You didn’t have much energy. You weren’t eating or drinking enough, so your body was choosing exhaustion instead. Pointing at the clothes, Wonwoo lifts his brows and waits for you to give them some recognition, but instead you sit up and wrap your arms around you, chill bumps spreading over your skin. 

“There’s no running water here... but at least you can change into something cleaner. We can get that shit off of your face.” 

Your brows furrow deeply at Wonwoo’s words. You wanted to fight him, but you just nodded and started to put your feet down when he reached out to stop you. 

“I’ll turn my back; you slip on the shoes first and then the clothes. There’s nowhere you can go, understand?” 

You were too tired to run. Looking down at the floor, you see why he had stopped you, the glass crunching under his feet as he moved a few steps away from you. Turning his back, Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to watch you put on his shoes before he looks back towards the wall when you start to unzip your dress under your arm. 

“Why are you doing this? He’s not gonna pay, Wonwoo. I’m tired…” 

It had only been 16 hours and you were already giving up. Wonwoo shouldn’t be annoyed that you were giving up; that should be a good thing in theory, but instead it was frustrating. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo peeks over his shoulder to see you dropping your dress into the floor, your body covered in matching lace as you reach for his t-shirt. 

“Suck it up. What would you rather happen? I just killed you now.” 

Pulling the shirt over your head, you scoff, finding it amusing how his words don’t really scare you this time. They almost seem like a joke. Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes briefly, you watch him look away quickly, clearing his throat. You know you should be upset that he was looking at you in a vulnerable state, but instead you slip one foot out of the borrowed shoes and start pulling on the sweatpants. 

“Why not? Seems like a waste of everyone's time.” 

Taken aback by your answer, Wonwoo hears you sigh, the couch settling as you sit down behind him. Turning around to face you, he looks at you in his clothes before his eyes move to the dirt he had painted on your face and throat. You watch as Wonwoo takes a bottle of water from his bag along with a towel, pouring some on to it as he kneels in front of you. 

“Think so low of yourself all of a sudden, Princess? What happened to all that confidence you had yesterday?” 

Wonwoo lifts his hand with the towel to wipe at your skin but at first you wince in fear. Meeting his eyes, he gives you a look of reassurance before trying again and this time you lean slightly into his touch. It takes some pressure for Wonwoo to get the dirt off of your skin; his eyes follow his hand even as he pours more water on to new sections of the towel. 

“I’m just a good liar.” 

That Wonwoo could tell wasn’t a lie. He knew you were a liar. He had caught you in plenty of lies in the short time he had known you, so perhaps he wouldn’t call you a good liar, but a liar nonetheless. Wonwoo’s brows knit together in thought as he lifts his free hand up to hold your chin as he rubs as gently as possible at your neck to clean his handprint from it, feeling you swallow under his touch. 

“So you gonna be truthful with me now that you are so ready to die? Or are you ready and willing to die because you hate your life so much?” 

It was none of Wonwoo’s business to answer either of those questions, but you didn’t mind that he had asked them. The only issue was that they brought tears to your eyes. Wonwoo moves your face from side to side, his eyes searching for dirt to clear from your face, before he meets your eyes and sees more tears threatening to spill over the rims. 

“You know I hate my life. You saw it firsthand.” 

Tossing the towel to the side, Wonwoo stands and puts the lid back on the water bottle before dropping it back into his bag. You watch as he leans to swipe your destroyed dress from the floor, balling it up in his hands like trash as he thinks. 

“I did, and from the outside looking in, darlin’, your life looks cushy. But that’s all smoke and mirrors, isn’t it?” Wonwoo doesn’t watch you nod, even as you do. “Won’t lie, your daddy acts like he’s running an escort service, but you’re the only one working.” 

Wonwoo’s words cause your face to heat up. You are angry with him, with his words, and with the truth. You know he’s not wrong and you’ve heard the rumors before. If it isn’t a marriage he is trying to set up for you with a rich son or a business partner, at least he can get a date for you, and you are reminded to make them happy. Happy is such a broad term, but you knew what it meant. You hate your father for it and any of the men who wanted the dates. 

Dropping your dress in the corner of the room, deeming that the new trash pile, Wonwoo moves back over to you to kneel in front of you. He meets your eyes, then reaches out to slide the leg of your new sweatpants up so he can look at your ankle. When you wince, his fingers prodding at the swollen muscle, he nods and sighs. 

“It’s not broken; you’ll live.” 

Wonwoo runs his thumb along his palm as he watches you sleep. This has become his new pastime over the past couple of days. It hadn’t been his plan, but between disappointingly annoying phone calls from Bonhwa and watching time tick away, Wonwoo watched your spirit dwindle with it. 

In reality, he knew he shouldn’t care. In fact, it should be a good thing. You were less combative. You ran your mouth less. You complained about things less, and yet Wonwoo was starting to miss that fiery woman who made his blood boil. This fragile thing laying in a ball on the couch was a shadow of you, and he had done that. Maybe not on his own, but he was the hands, if not the head. 

Leaning his head back against the door, Wonwoo picks up his cellphone, looking at another text message from Bonhwa. Each time his phone rang today, he had let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t some errand boy. Park Bonhwa had already paid him for this job; sure, there was still something left to do, but he couldn’t keep asking him for more shit without adding zeros to the end of what he had given him. Especially the shit he was asking for. 

Park: I’m tired of your bullshit

Park: As if I’m not already dealing with enough from the bitch’s daddy 

Park: Hyong wants more pictures 

2 missed calls from Park 

Park: You son of a bitch 

Park: answer the fucking phone! 

Answering the phone Wonwoo hisses out his words, keeping his voice low so as not to wake you. 

“What the fuck do you want? I sent pictures—” 

“Shut your fucking mouth. Price came down and the motherfucker is still refusing to pay up like Hyong wants him too. Send more.” 

Wonwoo didn’t know who Hyong was; he figured it was the man who had hired Bonhwa, but truthfully, he didn’t care. The less he knew, the better. Biting at his cheek, Wonwoo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

“I’m not touching her again. Bad enough, the fucker wants her dead anyway.” 

Slamming his fist down on his desk, Bonhwa grits his teeth and scoffs into his phone. 

“Worthless. I thought you were a professional. The best? Did I waste my fuckin’ money?” Giving Wonwoo only a moment to start to speak, Bonhwa cuts him off before he gets out the first syllable. “Do I need to send some boys to find you and the girl? Have them finish the job?”

The idea of that made Wonwoo sick to his stomach. He knew enough about Park Bonhwa and his men to know he’d rather kill you himself than let them near you. They wouldn’t just kill you. They would assault you, torture you, film it like Bonhwa wanted, and then kill you. 

“Fuck off. I'll take care of it.” 

Hanging up the phone, Wonwoo tosses the phone into his bag with a louder groan than he meant to cause you to stir from your sleep. Furrowing your brows, you glance towards the man with a bit of concern in your eyes. The past day, he had changed his attitude towards you in some ways. He wasn’t nice, per se, but he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel either.

Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hand to brush it through his hair. He needed a shower and so did you. It would do some good to move locations. It wasn’t his plan. He knew he could tie you to one of the exposed pipes and go do what he needed to do, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to do that. 

“Wanna go for some fresh air, princess?” 

Sitting up slowly, you consider Wonwoo’s question before nodding. You had heard some of his conversations with his boss, this Park man, and none of them had you convinced that this was going your way. 

Wonwoo gets to his feet, leaning to pick up his duffle bag as you slide from the couch. His eyes follow you carefully, watching how you weakly move towards him. That pang of pity hits him and Wonwoo tries to force it back down, only for it to rise up in his throat like bile. Shaking his head, Wonwoo wraps his arm around your waist, letting you lean against him as you try to keep some weight off your swollen ankle as the two of you walk back down the stairs. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Your voice surprises Wonwoo as he opens the back door of the car for you. Meeting your gaze, he tilts his head and nods once, waiting for you to continue. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

Your question makes the bile bubble in Wonwoo’s throat once again. Looking away, Wonwoo has to clear his throat, forcing the sick feeling down before he once again meets your eyes. There is fear in your eyes, but also a deep sadness that Wonwoo has started to notice as your confident facade starts to crack. Wonwoo knew he could lie to you but what good would that do to anyone? 

“I’m supposed to. That’s the job.” 

Tears sit on the rims of your eyes as you nod while sitting down on the backseat of the car. You try to think of the right words or a reason to beg for your life, but you can’t think of a single reason. Wonwoo furrows his brows as he watches you nod and pull your legs into the car. His eyes trace the tears as they run down your cheeks before he closes the door and curses under his breath. No other mark had made him feel like this. Why did you feel different? 

Looking around the house, you wrap your arms around you, waiting for the punchline of Wonwoo’s joke. He had taken you from the most disgusting, dilapidated apartment building you had ever seen to a modest sized house just outside of the city. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and had modern comforts. 

Wonwoo locks the door, shielding the keypad with his large upper body, as you hear the sound of a code being keyed into the security system. Turning back to face you as you stand in the foyer, clearly confused, he sighs, dropping his duffle bag with a dull thud before crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. 

“Let me make something clear to you, Y/N. This doesn’t change anything. I’m just tired of sleeping on the fuckin’ ground.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was lying. That was something you hadn’t mastered yet. Wonwoo was so closed off and you were too tired to pry. Swallowing hard, you look down as he keeps staring at you, his eyes almost studying you as they move along your frame, continuing his explanation. 

“You try to open a door to the outside; I’ll know and you’ll regret it. Don’t fuck with me, understand?” 

Nodding, you pick at a loose string on the sweatpants you were currently borrowing. They were ill fitting, but still warmer and better than the dress that you had been wearing. You wanted to tell Wonwoo you were grateful for the clothes and for him moving you here, but you find yourself almost afraid to tell him anything. You were afraid that if you showed any sign of comfort, he might take it away because Park told him too. 

“Good girl. Come on.” 

Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo guides you down the hall, turning on a light that makes you squint. You had grown accustomed to the low light of the camping lamps in the apartment. The lights in the house were almost too much at first. Glancing up, you blink a few times before you realize Wonwoo has led you to a bathroom. You feel tears once again coat your eyes, but you will them back as you watch him turn on the shower and mutter to himself before sighing and looking you over. 

“Here’s the deal, alright?” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo looks like he’s in pain at the words he is trying to force out of his mouth as he leans against the bathroom counter before he meets your eyes once again. “I don’t want to hurt you. What I told you is true, but they want more pictures.” 

A small sob escapes from your lips and Wonwoo feels his stomach tighten, the bile once again churning. Perhaps once he had enjoyed putting a little fear into you, but now it was chipping away at something inside of him. 

Taking a step back from Wonwoo, you feel the wall behind you as you close your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. You had no idea what sort of pictures they could want now. The last ones had broken you and Wonwoo hadn’t done more than scare you. He had taken them in a way to mimic pain, but still, they had caused you enough pain. 

“I don’t want to, Wonwoo.” 

Running his hand over his mouth, Wonwoo nods. He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want to either, but he also doesn’t want the alternative if he doesn’t deliver them. 

“If I don’t send them to him, Park will have his goons track you and I down. They are worse than me. Their pictures won’t be fake…” 

“Yours aren’t fake! I’m—” Lifting your hands, you rub at your cheeks, smearing dirt from your hands onto your face in the process of wiping your tears. “I’m so scared. Just kill me. Please? I don’t wanna do this anymore.” 

Taking the step across the bathroom towards you, Wonwoo listens to your breath get caught in your throat. He watches your body tense up as you prepare yourself for him to scare you; instead, he takes your wrist loosely in his hand. With his other hand, he carefully rubs at your cheek, trying to clean a smear of dirt from your skin. 

“Why the fuck are you just giving up now? Because your daddy is an asshole? You already knew that.” 

Leaning your head back against the wall, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes briefly before his eyes move along your face. You were still scared, but there was something about him and about his words that made your shoulders rise. You felt less small if, even for just a moment, you wanted to explain yourself, but maybe that was why he had chosen those words. 

“Why not? I told you the moment we stepped into that apartment that he wouldn’t give up any money. He’d rather see me dead.” 

Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo slides his hand from your face to rest his fist next to your head on the wall. You feel how close he is to you; his body caging you in. It feels oppressive for a moment until he shakes his head and meets your eyes and the look in his eyes makes the way he’s standing and how close he is feel like a shield. 

“I don’t care what he wants and neither should you. I don’t know why you are so fucking sure—” 

“Life insurance, Wonwoo.” 

Your words cut him off; Wonwoo’s brows knit together tightly. The look on his face is almost one of pain, as much as it is confusion, until the words seem to sink into reality. Nodding, Wonwoo scoffs and leans his head back, a laugh slipping from between his lips before he looks back down at you and shakes his head. 

“How much?” 

Wonwoo can see how you have relaxed in front of him. The steam filling the room is comforting and tempting, but he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer. 

“100 billion.” 

That explained everything. You were worth so much more to him dead than you were alive. Park’s associate clearly hadn’t done his homework. Wonwoo feels his blood boiling at the idea of a father putting that much worth on his child, hoping she would die before he would so he would benefit. There had been a lot of shitty things he had done in his life, but in that moment, he decided that killing you wouldn’t be one of them. 

“No.” 

Confused by Wonwoo’s response, you tilt your head and repeat it back to him as a question. To you, it was simple. It was exactly what was happening. You were explaining it perfectly, there was no reason for Wonwoo not to understand. Starting to speak again, you stop when Wonwoo shakes his head. You feel his fingers trail up your forearm as he lets out a sigh before they once again encircle your wrist. 

“He doesn’t get what he wants.” Gesturing his head towards the shower, Wonwoo takes a step back from you, gently pulling you from the wall. “Take a shower; we can talk about the pictures later. Fuck all of them.” 

Opening your mouth, you close it once again when Wonwoo mutters something under his breath before leaving you in the room alone. You were confused and surprised by his reaction. You had expected him to talk you into taking whatever pictures Park wanted. You had been mentally preparing yourself for some humiliating experience, but instead you were now alone in a warm bathroom. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you frown at the sight. You can see the dirt smeared on your skin and how disheveled your hair has gotten from a lack of care. Giving one last glance at the door, almost certain Wonwoo will come back in, you let out a slow, calming breath before stripping yourself of your borrowed clothes and making your way to the much welcomed shower. 

Leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom, Wonwoo listens to the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. He can imagine it running along your body, though he tries to push that thought from his mind quickly, afraid of where it might lead. Instead, he reminds himself how good a shower must feel after a couple days of being with him and how he has treated you. Sighing to himself, Wonwoo imagines the water pooling at your feet after it washes away the dirt, hoping it will wash away some of your stress, just like he hopes it will wash away his own. 

Taking his cellphone from his jeans, Wonwoo scowls at a text from Bonhwa before replying and shoving it back into his pocket. He had no respect for the man. Not that he had before learned from you, but now he had no reason to keep any loyalty towards him. 

Park: Chop chop, Jeon. I want my pictures. 

Wonwoo: When I’m ready.

Picking up his duffle bag, Wonwoo climbs the flight of stairs to the second floor, turning on the light for the bedroom. He had many safe houses. They were in various locations around Korea and other countries. None were in his real name and each one was kept stocked by people he could trust. This one was no different. 

Opening the dresser, Wonwoo furrows his brows at the clothing choice. There was plenty for him, but he was limited in his choices for you. It wasn’t his every day that he kept a mark with him and clothed them. Tossing a few things onto the bed, Wonwoo turns his attention to the closet, tilting his head at a few items near the back. Things he had forgotten had been left behind by those he would never name. He found himself pleased with his own hoarding tendencies as he pulled a simple summer dress and sweater from the closet, hoping they would fit you. 

With a towel wrapped around your body, you look through the drawers in the bathroom for things you might be able to use. A face wash and moisturizer catch your eye and you find yourself wondering if they belong to Wonwoo or if he had friends, perhaps a girlfriend you weren’t aware of. Shaking your head, you quickly use the products and relish in the feeling of brushing your teeth before you hear the sound of Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of the door. 

“Y/N? I—are you decent? Well, decent enough for me to come in?” 

You think back to Wonwoo peeking over his shoulder at you changing at the apartment as you glance towards the door. Your cheeks start to heat up as you hold your towel tighter and pull the door open, letting Wonwoo inside if he wants. 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath as his eyes move over your legs and up to your face. You watch as he seems to forget what he is doing for a brief moment before lifting his hands to show you the clothes he has collected for you. Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but smile even slightly at the sight of the dress over Wonwoo’s arm. It’s a simple soft green knee mid-thigh length dress that you know you would have never worn before all of this, but now the dress looks like comfort and kindness. 

“I don’t know if they will fit you, but they are all I could find. I could get you some of my things if you’d prefer—” 

“These are great, Wonwoo, if that’s okay?” 

Reaching out for the dress and sweater, you accidentally brush your hand over Wonwoo’s before pulling your hand back on instinct. You find yourself nervous, perhaps even a bit afraid of what his response might be. Looking down, your brows furrowed, you hear Wonwoo say your name softly, drawing your attention back up to him. 

“It’s okay. Get dressed and we can…” You watch Wonwoo scoff into a laugh at how ridiculous he feels at his own words as he says them. “Talk about your situation.” 

Not really understanding what Wonwoo means, you just nod and take the clothes from him, stepping back so he can shut the bathroom door once again. Your fingers carefully brush over the fabric in your hands and you feel goosebumps spread over your skin at how soft the sweater feels. Had Wonwoo noticed how cold you had been at the apartment? Was this a kind gesture to keep you warmer here? Should you not think about it like that? 

Glancing up at the ceiling as you hear water running, you tilt your head, realizing that Wonwoo was probably using another bathroom to take his own shower. He was trusting you not to run. Granted, he had given you a warning not to run. He had set an alarm and told you what would happen, but there was still a level of trust in taking a shower knowing you were done. 

With the sweater over your new dress, you look at the front door. There were three deadbolts, a chain, and a keypad that you had heard Wonwoo type something into earlier. It would take you a few minutes to get them all undone and the alarm would go off, but then you could run. You were exhausted, you were hungry, and now you were confused. 

Running your fingers over the soft sleeves of your sweater, you look behind you up the stairs, where you can still hear running water. Was this a test? Your mind goes back to what Wonwoo said before he left you alone but more so about what he said before your shower. 

“He doesn’t get what he wants.” 

Moving away from the door, you look around the living room. Your eyes fall to the soft couch, a sigh slipping from your lips as you sit down on it, feeling the cloth against the back of your legs. It was so much nicer than the dirty leather of the one in the apartment. You weren’t sure how this house worked if Wonwoo lived here often, but it was clean and almost felt like home. 

Running his fingers through his wet hair, Wonwoo looks around the bedroom, listening for any signs of you. He hadn’t gotten any alerts that the doors had been opened, but if you had, he wouldn’t have really blamed you. Sure, he had warned you not to do it, but that had been before everything he had learned about your father and now if you walked out that door, he might just let you go. The only thing stopping him was the fear that Bonhwa’s men would find you before he did. 

Jogging down the steps, Wonwoo tugs his shirt down his torso, only to meet your eyes as he rounds the doorway into the living room. You were lying on the couch and it reminded him so much of the apartment. The main difference here is that you looked comfortable and somehow even more beautiful. You almost took his breath away in the new dress, the sweater’s sleeves held at your palms by your fingers. 

“Hey…” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you sit up quickly. That fear that he might be upset at your comfort suddenly hits you until he sighs. Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, Wonwoo closes his eyes in thought before finally speaking. 

“I’ll make something warm to eat. I can’t promise it’ll be good or not expired. But it’ll be food. Then we can talk.” 

Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile as you watch Wonwoo move across the hall into the kitchen. There had been a shift in him over the past couple of days but more so today. This Wonwoo was still intense; he frightened you at times, but he was also warm and comforting in a strange way. 

Turning to lay on your stomach, you rest your chin on your arm, watching Wonwoo open cabinets. From where you are, you can hear him muttering something to himself and see him occasionally reach up to scratch at his brow before he finally seems to figure out what to do next. 

After a few minutes of struggling, he finally manages to find a pot for water and some ramen. Looking over his shoulder back into the living room, Wonwoo has to hide his smirk, finding you watching him from the couch. The way you are lying is cute—your ankles crossed, knees bent so your feet can be up in the air. It reminds him of girls in dramas watching television or writing in their diaries, not that he’s watched a drama or movie in years. 

With ramen on the table in front of you, still in the pot, Wonwoo offers you a set of chopsticks as he sits near you on the floor. Shifting to sit next to him, you lean over the table to look down at the food with appreciation before giving the same look to Wonwoo. 

“Thank you… I–I honestly didn’t expect you to give me anything.” 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo nods, gesturing for you to take the first bite. He watches you savor some of the noodles as his brows furrow, feeling his phone vibrate in his sweatpants pocket. He knew he should check it, but that would require caring what Park Bonhwa had to say, and right now he didn’t. Right now, the only thing that he cared about was getting something in your stomach and having a conversation that didn’t end with you being terrified of him. 

“That’s fair. I haven’t—look, this isn’t the most ideal situation we are in.” 

Scoffing, you stop yourself immediately, lowering your head apologetically at your gut reaction. You couldn’t help but find the irony in Wonwoo’s words. You knew it wasn’t an ideal situation but if it wasn’t ideal for him, he should try being you. You were the one who was going to be dead soon. 

“You’re allowed to react, princess.” 

That name. At first, it had made you angry, but you figured that was probably Wonwoo's desired reaction to it. Now the name makes your cheeks burn with something else. It made you feel shy and while it still made you feel smaller than Wonwoo, you didn’t hate that feeling. His larger than life stature over you, standing between you and Park somehow seemed like a good thing right now. 

“Just don’t wanna piss you off. I’m good at that, if you remember...” 

Smirking, Wonwoo tilts his head before leaning to eat some of the noodles and licking the broth from his lips. He did remember, but the you that had seemed dead set on frustrating him to no end a few days ago now seemed like she was miles away. You were someone different and he wanted to find the woman who was in the middle. 

“Trust me, I do.” 

Watching you, Wonwoo can’t help the way he has to take a breath as you blow at the ramen with a small smile on your face at his words. If this were any other situation, one might mistake it for a date, but he knew the reason you were here just as much as you did. 

“Do you even want to go home?” 

The question makes you stop what you are doing mid bite. Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Wonwoo, finding his eyes on you. Your stomach tightens at how intense his gaze is, the weight behind it and his question. It was a loaded question with many different possible answers, but only one that you could think of. 

“No.” 

Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo nods, letting that reality sink in. He had a few options laid out in front of him of how this week could end. He could follow through with what he had been paid to do. He could kill you, put your body on your father’s doorstep, and call it a job well done. He could let you go, never thinking of you again, but Wonwoo finds himself struggling to picture himself doing that and you surviving. Then there was the third option... 

“I have a friend—mmm, no, let’s call him an acquaintance; we aren’t friends. This acquaintance has been in touch about you.” 

The words all make sense but yet you shake your head, not understanding what any of them mean. You didn’t know Wonwoo’s acquaintances or his friends and you weren’t sure what they would want with you, unless... 

“He wants to kill me?” 

Meeting your eyes almost in shock by your assumption, Wonwoo shakes his head and sighs. The sigh is loud and exasperated because clearly he’s not going quickly enough and explaining well enough. 

“No, Jesus, Y/N… No, he’s—he’s a detective. I could either hand you over to him or—or I could have him help me let you disappear.” 

Looking around the room, you repeat some of what Wonwoo had said back to yourself as if trying to understand it before meeting his eyes. He had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to kill you. You hadn’t been wrong in the shift you had seen in him; you just didn’t understand why. 

“Why? I mean… not that I’m not grateful and that I don’t want it—”

“Which one?” 

Cutting you off with his question, Wonwoo slides his arm along the couch cushion behind your back as you look at him, lost for words. He expected a quick decision and you weren’t sure you were capable. Shaking your head, you lay down your chopsticks and lean back against the couch, a bit surprised to feel Wonwoo’s hand against your arm. Looking down at his fingers, you furrow your brows, watching them flex once before he braves the water and rests them against your bicep. 

“I need to know because there isn’t a lot of time for this to work. I’m not trying to scare you by saying that, but honestly, you should still be scared. I’m not saying anything about me; I’m not going to hurt you… but Bonhwa…” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes once again, you have a new, intrigued look on your face at learning a name. You hadn’t heard the name Bonhwa before; was that Park’s first name? 

“He would? Park Bonhwa?” 

Realizing what he had said, Wonwoo looks down with a sigh. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to rub at his brows before looking up at you once again. 

“Yes, he’s a piece of shit, Y/N. Some bigger piece of shit hired him to do this. Somebody who doesn’t like your father.” 

Now you are starting to learn things and understand them. You didn’t know anyone named Park Bonhwa, but your father had plenty of enemies and plenty of people pretending to be friends who would want his downfall. 

“So if I disappear, how does that work?” 

Pursing his lips, Wonwoo shifts closer to you and makes an unsure sound. 

“I’ll have to work it out with Cheo—with my acquaintance. If it’s what you want, I’ll figure it out.” 

Looking over Wonwoo’s face, you find yourself nodding, convinced by his words but still something hangs in the air. There was something that made you pause and look at him with uncertainty. 

“Why are you doing this for me? You hate me.” 

Looking at his hand as he picks at the sweater resting over your arm, Wonwoo sighs at your question. It was a fair one. He hadn’t given you any other reason to think otherwise. He had pretty much told you more than once that he didn’t like you, that he hated you, but you had returned the favor. Looking at you now, Wonwoo was almost too shy to look back up at your eyes.

"Uh—yeah, well, shit changes, doesn’t it? When you aren’t trying to actively hate someone for the job and they aren’t being a bitch for fun?”

Letting out a scoff, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, almost defiantly realizing how close he is. You can see his brows knit together as his eyes waver from your eyes to your lips and back. Neither of you are idiots or immune to the tension blanketing the two of you as your eyes follow a similar path on his face. 

“It wasn’t for fun... all the time. Most of the time it was—” 

“A shield?”

Nodding, you find your brows pulling together this time at Wonwoo’s words, as he seems to know you better than to anticipate. He had been paying attention to you and listening to what you had been saying over the past few days. Inhaling softly, you feel Wonwoo’s fingers press against your arm as he mutters a curse under his breath, leaning his head in closer to yours. You can almost see the internal battle written on Wonwoo’s face as he struggles with the desire to act on his wants and instincts compared to what he knows he should do. 

“Are you still afraid of me?” 

Shaking your head, you pause to lick your lips and Wonwoo smiles, knowing you aren’t telling him the full truth. Maybe you weren’t as afraid of him as you once were, but there is still fear left. Giving into desire, Wonwoo leans in the last few inches, letting his lips barely brush against yours as he speaks, letting you decide to meet his kiss or pull away. 

“Promised I wouldn’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone else either.”

A small whine escapes from your lips at Wonwoo’s confession and the feeling of his breath on your lips. You have a split second to consider your options before you give in to your desires and meet his kiss gently. You have little to no reason to trust Wonwoo and yet now everything in your being is telling you that you can, as his lips mesh with yours. 

Flexing your fingers, you dig them into the mattress under you, enjoying the feeling of it under you. There was something freeing about this fucked up situation you found yourself in. There were still some who expected something out of you, but you had the most unexpected shield. 

Opening your eyes, you look at Wonwoo’s face as he sleeps beside you. After the simple kiss, he insisted you finish eating and ushered you upstairs to bed. You could remember the same man who had forced you up steps a few days earlier, but he seemed a million miles away now. 

The man sleeping beside you now, his brows knit together as he dreamed, wasn’t that person. Perhaps he was on the surface, but underneath that mask, you were learning he was a warm, complicated person. He wasn’t the asshole you had called him so many times and you weren’t the bitch you pretended to be. There was an art to lying as much as you two had to one another. 

Shifting slightly, you take a breath, only to hold it when Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open. He was apparently a light sleeper. You had wondered if he was; he always seemed to be awake at the apartment so seeing him asleep was a rare, fleeting treat. Looking over your face, Wonwoo’s lips pull up slightly in a smile before he turns to lay on his back with a sigh. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo rubs his eyes with his middle finger and thumb as he yawns. You smile watching him enjoy how domestic the moment feels, wishing it would never end. You find yourself letting your eyes move over Wonwoo a bit more brazenly while he’s distracted. How attractive he was had never escaped you; it had just been overshadowed by how much he had frightened you, but now, as he rubbed at his tired eyes, you found him even more handsome. 

“I don’t really sleep.” 

Pursing your lips, you pull your legs up towards your stomach under the blanket, your thumbnail resting against your lips as you try to hide your smile. Wonwoo lifts his brows at your reaction to him, his eyes doing something similar to yours, but he takes a bit more time before taking a breath and licking his lips. 

“What? You don’t believe me?” 

Resting your head on your bicep, you shake it slightly, move your hand from your lips. 

“It’s not that. You just confuse me. I’m not sure you are human.” 

Smiling, Wonwoo lifts his brow and lets his eyes once again move over your pretty face. If he let himself, he could imagine this being a very normal situation. Just two people lying in bed, getting closer to one another. It was almost terrifying to him that he wanted that, but looking at you as you nuzzled your cheek to the soft sweater you were now lovingly wearing, Wonwoo yearned for it. 

“I am… I just tend to run off caffeine and power naps.” 

Your laugh is welcomed music to Wonwoo’s ears. He had heard it before, when you were living your life before all of this. It hadn’t sounded like this, though. It was almost robotic then and annoying. It had gotten on his nerves; everything about you before had, and it had made hurting you easier. He couldn’t imagine hurting the girl in front of him now. Now he was fighting the urge to run his fingers over your face and over your hair. He was trying to convince himself not to kiss you again. 

“That can’t be healthy. Someone needs to take care of you, Kim Wonwoo.” 

Hearing the fake name that he had given you and your father, Wonwoo’s smile fades. You watch Wonwoo’s eyes move away from yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to think of what to say. You are about to ask him what’s wrong when the sound of his phone ringing draws his attention away from you and towards the nightstand. 

Narrowing his eyes at the name on the screen, Wonwoo sits up, swiping it almost angrily from the top of the nightstand before answering the phone. Your eyes follow him as he slides from the bed and runs his fingers through his hair, his voice suddenly deeper and rougher. 

“What the fuck do you want now?” 

Scowling at Wonwoo’s attitude, Park Bonhwa slams the door to his Cadillac, giving a lingering look to his driver. They all knew he was in a bad mood, he had been since he had taken on this contract and it was giving them all a headache. Jeon Wonwoo was a serious pain in the ass.

“You know what I fucking wanted, motherfucker! Now I just want her corpse. I’ll send someone else to get it if you are too much of a pussy to—” 

“You won’t do anything!” 

Being cut off by Wonwoo, Bonhwa smacks his hand against the metal door in front of him. The professional that had come so highly recommended was starting to look more like a petulant child than a hitman. 

“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and can’t do, Jeon?” 

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo glances back at you, realizing you could hear more of his conversation than he would like. He could see the tears on your cheeks and he needed to fix this. Pulling open the bedroom door, Wonwoo slams it behind him, leaving you alone and unable to hear anything more than his muffled angry voice and the occasional word, but it was enough. You understood what “Park” wanted. Wonwoo had offered to help you disappear, but maybe that was too difficult. 

Hissing out his words like venom, Wonwoo glares at the window in front of him as if Bonhwa is in front of him. At this point, he wished the man was. He would let him take your place and make this all a lot simpler. 

“I’ll take care of it! Wire the goddamn money, you piece of shit. If your timeline can speed up, my price can go up.” 

Wonwoo can hear Bonhwa’s argument starting but he is quick to cut him off before he starts by ending the call. There was a lot to explain to you and a lot to apologize for. Granted, he didn’t really owe you or anyone an apology for living his life and making a living in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault he had fallen—no, he wasn’t going to admit that even to himself. 

Scrolling through his contacts, Wonwoo hits another name, placing the phone back against his ear and letting it ring. His head was starting to hurt. He hadn’t slept enough; like he had told you, he rarely did, but now it was starting to weigh on him. 

“What? Turning yourself in?” 

Wonwoo scoffs at Choi Seungcheol’s words as he slides down the wall outside of the bedroom. There had only been one man who had even come close to catching him and it had been Detective Choi Seungcheol. The only reason he hadn’t was because of a deal struck between a desperate man and an even more desperate, not always by the book, detective. It had worked in Wonwoo’s favor then and he hoped it would now. 

“Never. Need to ask for that favor.” 

Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol glances around his office before leaning to close the door with a deafening click. He owed Wonwoo more than one favor, but luckily for him so far none of them had bit him in the ass. He hoped this one wouldn’t either. 

“And you need to get that girl home, Wonwoo. How long are you gonna keep her away from her family?” 

"Forever, hopefully, with your help.” 

That hadn’t been the answer that Seungcheol had been expecting. He hadn’t heard about your kidnapping through your father until another reliable source brought it to his attention. It was only when he and another officer approached your father did he even admit to you being taken. Seungcheol knew there was something strange about this case. It didn’t matter if fathers were told not to tell the police about their children being kidnapped, they would. That was just a father’s instinct to protect a child. Your father was different. He seemed like he had already accepted your death. 

“I—and why the fuck would I—”

“Because I’m going to help you get a promotion, Cheol.” 

Wonwoo knew that would get Seungcheol’s attention and it did. Now the detective was listening, his lips pursed as he looked at his computer in front of him, deep in thought, before finally letting out a breath. 

“How so?”

Of course, he would want to know what he would get out of it first. That detail didn’t make Wonwoo feel the best about this, but he would go about it however he needed to in order to help you now. Glancing towards the closed door, hoping that you weren’t upset with him for walking out, Wonwoo chewed at his cheek and knocked his head back against the wall. 

“Her dad, I think I can get—no, I know I can get enough to blow a whistle on his company. It’d be one hell of a bust for you, Detective Choi.”

Leaning forward to rest his elbow on his desk, Seungcheol scoffed at Wonwoo’s attempt at flattery. It was working. He knew that Y/L/N Financial Incorporation was shady, but he couldn’t touch it. There were too many lawyers and hoops to jump through in the corporate world that gave Seungcheol ulcers, but if it were laid in his lap… Well, that was a different story. Bringing down a corrupt trading company that many had lost their money to could do just what Wonwoo had said. He could have almost any position in the department that he wanted, or he could run for office. 

“And what do you need from me?” 

A breath of relief washes over Wonwoo at Seungcheol’s question. He knew the man had other connections and between the two of them and pulling a few other strings, they could solve this. 

“She doesn’t want to go home, Cheol, and they all want her dead. So, we give them what they want. She gets a fresh start and a new name.” 

This wasn’t something easily done, but Seungcheol knew that Wonwoo knew that. He knew what he was asking of him and now Seungcheol wasn’t sure if the prize was worth the work. Making a sound of concern, Seungcheol sits back in his chair, glancing towards his door, when Wonwoo speaks up once again. 

“Have you met her father?” 

Furrowing his brows, Seungcheol remembers talking to the man in his office. The older man had refused to come to the station, and even meeting in his own plush personal office seemed like an inconvenience. Talking about your kidnapping and possible impending death seemed like an inconvenience for him. Seungcheol remembered leaving frustrated and confused. He wasn’t a father yet but he hoped that he would be a better one than yours. 

“Mm, a real son of a bitch.” 

“He’s got a hell of a life insurance policy for Y/N. He doesn’t want her back, Cheol. Imagine how that might make her feel. She knew the moment I took her that she wasn’t going to make it, and I wasn’t even the one who told her.” 

Guilt hits Seungcheol in the stomach. He wants to argue with Wonwoo, turn on the cop and get angry with him for taking you, but from the sound of your situation, maybe it was a good thing he had taken you out of it. He wasn’t an idiot; he had already been told the stories of the business parties and the deals your father tried to make involving you. Seungcheol shakes his head and scoffs, making a face as if he’d eaten something sour.

“Fine, I’ll help you—I’ll help Y/N. Get your information together to make it worth my time. You know what you’re askin’ for, Wonwoo. Your information isn’t good enough and I lose my job? I’ll kill you.” 

Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s threat, though he knows it's a good one. He knew that Choi Seungcheol would be one of the only people who would probably be able to hunt him down and would kill him given the chance, but it wouldn’t happen. 

“The information will be better than good.” 

Picking at your nails, you lean your head back against the headboard, listening to Wonwoo’s muffled voice just outside of the bedroom. The first conversation had been heated and full of hatred, but this second one seemed to be going his way. 

Your tears had dried on your cheeks, but the churning feeling hadn’t quite settled in your stomach by the time Wonwoo opens the door. He could almost feel how your attitude had shifted from before as he leaned against the doorframe. That smile that he had been enjoying was nowhere to be found, and he knew that laugh was going to be hard won. 

“Y/N…” 

You weren’t necessarily afraid of Wonwoo anymore. You weren’t even afraid or surprised by the situation; at this point, you were coming to terms with reality. Meeting his eyes, you feel the tears once again well up in your eyes as he frowns and shakes his head. 

“It’s fine, Wonwoo.” 

Moving on to the bed, Wonwoo reaches for your hand, trying to come up with the right words to explain things when you continue. 

“I know you didn’t want me to overhear it, but it really is okay. I know my father doesn’t give a shit about me. He didn’t care about my mother, so why would I be different?” Using your free hand to rub at your nose, you glance down at your hand in Wonwoo’s. “If I could just ask a favor or two?” 

Your words were breaking Wonwoo’s heart, but as you spoke, they felt necessary. Each word builds on one another, like an explanation of you, until you finally ask something of him. Humming softly to let you continue, Wonwoo swallows hard, reaching out with his free hand to push at your tears on your cheek with his thumb. 

“I don’t want to be in pain and could you make my death mean something? Make it a lesson for him? He’s going to get even richer from it, but that doesn’t mean—-”

Having heard enough, the implication of you asking him to make your death not painful, Wonwoo slides his hand along your cheek to cup your face. 

“Stop, Y/N… just—shh, please, princess?” 

Closing your eyes when Wonwoo stops you mid sentence, you lean into his touch, feeling his forehead rest against yours. You meant every word. You hated the idea of being overwhelmed with pain or fear at the moment of your death, just as much as you hated your father using your death for his own gain. You felt like those were valid wishes from a dead woman, but maybe they were too hard for the one who had to fulfill them. 

“I can’t listen to you talk like that. Fuck—” 

Wonwoo was a cold man on most days. He didn’t have many emotions and none that would be shared with most people, but today he felt tears collecting on the rims of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried or the last time his chest felt so heavy as he had someone in his hands. The feeling of your skin against his palm was better than anything he could imagine, and he knew he would do anything for you and do anything to keep you close to him in that moment. 

“I’m not going to kill you. I told you that. They don’t get to win. Baby… I—I mean, fuck, I told you that already.” 

Hearing “baby” slip off Wonwoo’s lips makes fresh tears slip down your cheeks. It was almost cruel the cards that the world was dealing you. In your mind, there was no way you’d be able to keep this man in front of you, so why were you once again being tortured by wanting him and his love? You were starting to understand him, or so you thought, and he wasn’t the type to keep people around or love them. 

Shaking your head, you try to lean back, wanting to make this separation easier on you and Wonwoo, but your fingers hold you to him. A sound of pain escapes Wonwoo’s lips as he slides along your arm and he shakes his head in return. 

“I’ll make you disappear; remember, I said I knew someone, and I’ll—” The words seem difficult and unplanned as Wonwoo leans back, his fingers once again trying to get rid of your tears as you meet his eyes. He looks desperate, almost like a different person—a man not willing to lose what’s in front of him. “I’ll disappear with you.” 

Wrapping your hands around Wonwoo’s wrists, you give him a confused look. There were so many questions on your mind because so many things about what he just said didn’t make sense to you. You didn’t understand how his friend could just make you disappear and go with you. 

“Why?” Now the same confusion was written on Wonwoo’s face as you asked the one word question, prompting you to speak again. “Why would you disappear with me, Wonwoo?” 

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo strokes his thumb along your cheek. That was a valid question. You had every right to ask that, and he should answer it. Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo licks his lips and glances down at yours before cursing under his breath. He knew the answer, it was just the most difficult thing he had ever admitted to another person in his life.

“I—shit, Y/N… it’s cause…” 

You watch Wonwoo struggle with his words, feeling his fingers move over your skin as his brows furrow, almost in pain at how hard he’s trying to manifest his sentence. What was so hard to say to you? Sighing, you start to pull away again when Wonwoo’s lips meet yours and you only whimper into the kiss. 

Wonwoo hopes the kiss will be enough to explain what he’s trying to say, but even as he deepens it and his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, he knows it’s not. He can feel your hand grabbing at his bicep and the words bubble up in his throat, escaping on to your lips like a breath. 

“I love you.” 

Your eyes close tighter at Wonwoo’s words, the confession hitting you in the chest like a brick. You scratch at his arm under your fingers and let out a soft sob into the kiss, feeling him nod, almost understanding you without words. The tension in the room is thick and warm. It felt like a blanket in the middle of the summer, making you both feel like you were overheating. 

Laying you back on the bed, Wonwoo hovers over you, looking over your face, when he finally pulls back from the kiss. Your tears still flow freely from the corners of your eyes, causing him to swipe at them and shake his head, wishing he could will them away with a single word. 

“I do; I’m sorry—” 

Wrapping your hand into the front of Wonwoo’s t-shirt, pull him down hard to meet your lips, speaking against them as he starts to apologize for loving you. You silence him with your kiss, letting him settle between your thighs as you pull your knee up towards his hip. Wonwoo groans softly into your mouth, his brows finally relaxing, feeling you invite him closer to you. 

With your free hand, you run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, arching your back as his fingers gather your dress at your hip. After nipping at your lips, he tilts back to look down at you, searching your eyes before staring at his hand as he exposes more of your skin. The air crackles with electric anticipation as desire intensifies between you and Wonwoo. Every touch and every glance fuels the growing fire within, leaving you both yearning for more, unable to resist the magnetic pull between your bodies. On an exhale, you let out a soft whine, walking your fingers along Wonwoo's jaw, your words coming out breathy and soft.

“Don’t apologize for saying that to me, Wonwoo.” 

Closing his eyes, Wonwoo turns his attention back towards you, leaning to press his lips against your wrist. He knew he had a lot to explain to you. There was a lot you didn’t understand, a lot of half truths he had told you. He didn’t wait anymore, not when he rested between your warm thighs and felt your fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him close to you like you never wanted to lose him. He was afraid once you knew the full truth about him, you wouldn’t want him this close to you again. 

“Want you so fucking bad, princess.” 

Wonwoo’s words are quiet, his lips moving to press against your jaw as he lays his body against yours. You whine, finally letting go of his shirt in place of wrapping your arm around his waist so you can pull his shirt up his back. All that tension in the room feels like a fire burning around you when you hear him say those words out loud. 

Nodding, you lift your hips towards Wonwoo, feeling him smile against your skin before he furrows his brows and whines into a groan. Fingers slide under your dress, along your inner thigh, until finally Wonwoo finds what he was searching for. He can feel your warmth through your damp lace and it’s driving him crazy. 

Glancing up at you, Wonwoo watches your lips fall open as he uses his middle finger to press the lace between your folds. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to put pressure on your already throbbing clit, and you are wanting and needing more. 

“Please… please, more…” 

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch in at your breathy moans. Each new word on your lips—better than anything he had ever experienced. There was no other high that he could think of that could compare to the way his brain soared at such simple words slipping from between your pretty lips. He could feel himself becoming addicted to you with each breathy moan that he earned. 

He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more; it would be easy. He could move his fingers ever so slightly and have his fingers inside of you, but looking at your face, Wonwoo paused. Swallowing hard, Wonwoo puts his head down, kissing your collarbone in the process as you feel his fingers slide to your thigh. 

“Wha—Wonwoo?”

Reaching for his hand, trying to get him to go back to what he had been doing, you feel Wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist. Instead of letting you guide his hand, he lifts yours to his mouth, kissing your fingers as he meets yours eyes, giving you an apologetic look. 

“I do want you, baby... but I need to explain some things to you first. I need you to understand who you are letting touch you, so that if you don’t want—” 

Sliding up in the bed under Wonwoo, you cup his face, pressing your lips to his to silence him before he starts rambling. You weren’t stupid; you knew there were lies and obviously plenty weighing on his mind, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Meeting his eyes, you wait for him to speak, finally seeing some of the tension once again release from his face. 

“Earlier, uh, you called me Kim Wonwoo.” 

Nodding, you trace Wonwoo’s cheek as he settles on the bed in front of you. His hands slide over your legs, letting you adjust so that you are more comfortable. When you drape your leg over his, Wonwoo glances down at your exposed knee, tracing a small scar, trying to distract himself as he speaks. 

“That’s not my name. I mean, sort of. It’s Jeon Wonwoo.” 

Afraid to meet your eyes, Wonwoo draws shapes on your leg as he continues to explain his life to you. This is the only job he’s ever really known. He doesn’t explain how he got into it, but he’s hurt a lot of people and though he doesn’t say it, you understand he’s killed several people. 

“Did they deserve it?” 

The question makes Wonwoo’s throat feel like it’s closing up. That was the most difficult question he had ever been asked. This was why he didn’t have emotions or show them. You were bringing out his emotions and making his heart feel things that he hadn’t felt in decades. Watching Wonwoo lean his head back, you feel sorrow for the man in front of you. You want to fix his life, but then you remember how fucked up your own life is as he laughs sadly and shakes his head before shrugging. 

“I don’t know, babe. No, not all of them. I didn’t ask them about their morals.”

Shushing Wonwoo, you tilt his head back down to look at you as you lean to brush your lips over his again, feeling him melt under your touch and kiss. It should matter more to you about Wonwoo’s past and possibly his future, but you find that you are more concerned about how he feels about you. 

“Did I deserve it?” 

Grabbing your wrists, Wonwoo sits back, staring at you, before letting go of one hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. It was a painful question, but a fair one. You had every right to ask it and he needed to answer it no matter how much it hurt him to do it. 

“I thought you did at first. Made it easier to take you, to scare you.” Taking a breath, Wonwoo traces the shape of your ear with his fingers meeting your eyes. “But now I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry, Y/N. If you wanna walk out that door, I’ll let you leave.” 

Wonwoo’s hand starts to drop from your face as he finishes what he needs to say. He looks defeated and certain you are going to not only kick him out of bed, but worse, you might actually want to leave. The moment his fingers drop from your jaw, you shake your head and move forward, hearing a soft, surprised gasp escape from Wonwoo’s lips when you put his back on the bed. Straddling his hips, you nudge your nose against his and tease him by brushing your lips like a whispered word along his, making him lean up to chase you before you speak. 

“I thought you said you’d disappear with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” 

His real name on your lips almost floors Wonwoo. His head resting back on the bed, Wonwoo nods, reaching up to once again cup your face with his hand as he mutters his promises. 

“I will, yes. I promise... as soon as we can.” 

Crashing your lips into his, you hear Wonwoo groan deeply at the feeling. The kiss is different, it’s almost sealing the promise and you both seem to realize that. Fingers once again slide under your dress so that Wonwoo can trace the curve of your ass as you sit down over his half hard cock trapped in his sweatpants. 

You were so warm even with his pants and your thin panties, and it was causing Wonwoo’s mind to malfunction. It had been a long time since he had let himself really enjoy sex and a woman’s body for more than just a carnal need. If this had been anyone else, it would be over in minutes without much more than a word said from either person. Everything about you had Wonwoo’s brain screaming to take his time and teach you he could be better. 

“Fuck… baby.” Groaning into something that sounds more like a whimper, Wonwoo rocks his hips up to meet yours, feeling you roll your hips over him. “Lay down, let me take care of you.” 

Smiling, you sit up, running your fingers over Wonwoo’s chest, feeling him take deep breaths under your touch. In the past, you would have agreed to something like that without question. You would be the first to admit that you were lazy in bed with other people, a bit of a pillow princess, but with Wonwoo, you wanted to be something different. He made you want to show him more, give him more. Show him he is worth more. He was worth the risk. 

Shaking your head, you slide down the length of his body, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he tells you to let him take over once again. He is silenced when your hot breath fans over the front of his sweatpants and his cock jerks almost violently in reaction. 

Pressing his head back against the bed, Wonwoo just nods, lifting his hips as your fingers press into the top of his sweatpants, working them down his thighs. Your eyes focus on his face, the way he bites at his bottom lip when his cock is exposed to the air and you for the first time. Finally looking down, you tilt your head and swallow hard, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear your reaction when your eyes move over his cock from base to tip. 

“You okay? Princess… I said, let me—” 

“Shhh, you are just so big, Wonwoo. It’s a compliment. Take off your shirt for me.” 

Your words go straight to Wonwoo’s head and make his face burn, the flush evident running from his neck to his cheeks as he lets out a slow breath. Dropping his pants into the floor, you keep your eyes on him, enjoying the view as he does as you ask, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. 

Laying back reluctantly, he sits back up on his elbows as his cock leaks pre-cum against his abdomen, his eyes moving over you while you shift closer, running your hand along his thigh. 

“Baby—c’mon… Let me see you at least.” 

Smirking slightly, you work the sweater over your head as Wonwoo watches carefully. 

“I think you are being impatient.” 

Quietly laughing, Wonwoo reaches out to run his thumb along your knee, his eyes following your fingers as you work your dress up your body. 

“Maybe… but you are so fucking beautiful and you won’t let me touch you first. I was close before... you were begging me.” 

Humming in agreement with Wonwoo, you hand him your dress, watching him smile as he drops it on the floor with his clothes. His eyes stay focused on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, feeling it give way. 

“Maybe I want you to beg me instead.” 

Lifting his brow, Wonwoo takes a deep breath as your bra falls from your body. He knew you were perfect. There had been no doubt about that from the moment he first saw you as your bodyguard, but seeing you like this and feeling this way about you was a privilege. 

“I don’t beg for things, princess.” 

Tilting your head, you sit back on your ass between Wonwoo’s legs. With one leg on either side of his, you lift your hips, working your panties down. You hear his breath hitch as you lift one leg and then the other, slipping them off and letting them hang on your fingers before you offer them to him with a question in your eyes. 

“You don’t?” 

Reaching out to take your panties from you, Wonwoo scoffs when you pull them back just as his fingers graze them. He knows he could simply move and take them from you, but he knows what you want and you were making his mouth water. Licking his lips, Wonwoo tightens his jaw and meets your eyes, putting out his hand. 

“But I will for you. Please, baby? Don’t tease me.” 

Teasing Wonwoo was fun and it was powerful, but giving him something that he needed was just as rewarding. Smirking, you put your panties in Wonwoo’s hand, moving back to your knees as you watch him bring them to his nose, taking a deep breath of you. Only once he’s had his fill does he drop them next to the bed with the rest of the clothes and lick his lips, swallowing hard at the sight of you. 

"Sure, I can’t take care of you first?” 

Shaking your head, you listen to Wonwoo groan your name when your fingers wrap around his cock. He is heavy in your hand and you find yourself wanting that weight on your tongue. You want him to moan your name like that as you swallow as much of his cock as you can… so instead of answering him, you act on your desires. 

Falling back on the bed, Wonwoo curses loudly as your warm mouth wraps around him. Letting your mouth meet your hand, you moan around Wonwoo, sucking on his head as you pull back, only to sink back down over him without warning. It had been far too long since Wonwoo had been with someone even close to as determined as you in bed and that was becoming too evident as he struggled to keep himself from cumming too soon. 

“Bab—shit! Y/N… slow—ah, don’t wanna…” 

Pulling back from Wonwoo’s cock with a small popping sound, you feel his hips jerk under your hand as you continue to stroke him. Everything you had wanted from him was becoming a reality. You were dripping onto the bed under you from the sounds coming out of Wonwoo’s mouth and the taste of him on your tongue. 

Clinging to the bedding under him, Wonwoo groans loudly as you press your tongue against his slit. Not wanting to cum into your mouth, he reaches to grab at your hair, whining your name and pushing his ass against the bed, trying to get away from your mouth. 

“Wanna—please? Feels too good. Let me have you.” 

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes again, you lick your lips, tasking the pre-cum smeared on them, listening to another groan slip from between his lips at the sight. You were going to be the death of him before he got his cock in you at this rate. 

Sitting back, you laugh when Wonwoo wastes no time turning over on the bed so he can get back between your thighs. With no lace between him and your pussy this time, he shakes his head and lets out a slow breath, lowering himself down to press kisses to your thighs before running his tongue through your wet folds. 

Wonwoo groans, his fingers gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to his mouth as he tastes you for the first time. Every worry disappears, along with every thought in his mind, as he focuses on you and nothing else. Wrapping his arm around your leg, Wonwoo adjusts himself on the bed, listening to your soft whimpering moans, driving him to make you feel even better. 

You could already feel yourself tightening around nothing as Wonwoo sucked around your clit, his fingers pushing your folds apart, giving him access to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You wanted and needed more. The desire to be full of him overwhelms your brain just as much as your impending orgasm. 

“Plea—Wonwoo…  your fingers. I need something inside of me.” 

You clearly had no idea how sexy your words were because, as soon as you spoke them, Wonwoo was trying not to thrust his hips into the mattress to find relief. Clawing at Wonwoo’s arm, you whimper his name doing your best to get what you want at your pace. Nodding, he groans, leaning back just enough to watch as he works a finger into you, feeling your tight walls suck him in. You weren’t even close to being able to handle his cock if he had to work for one finger. 

“Baby… relax.” 

Scoffing, you roll your hips down over Wonwoo’s finger as he nips at your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you. How did he expect you to relax with what was going on between your legs? Shooting him a contemptuous look, you watch as Wonwoo grins up at you before looking back at his fingers as he gently adds a second. 

“You’ve given me that look before, princess. Right before you told me you hoped I lost my job as your bodyguard.” 

Thrusting his fingers deep into you, Wonwoo watches you arch your back, a loud moan dripping off your lips like honey. There had been times before all of this, when he had been playing the part of your bodyguard when he had brief moments of weakness, picturing turning you over a surface and fucking some respect into you. If the man he was then could see him now. He imagined that man would not only be shocked at how much he had changed in such a short time, but he would probably be jealous. Who wouldn’t be jealous to see your cum dripping down his palm towards his wrist as he continued to fuck you with his fingers? 

“Yes, baby… Fuck—another one. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers; take another one.” 

A third finger slips into you and you practically scream in pleasure at how full you feel. The first orgasm had made your thighs start to shake, but the second one had come on so quickly after the first that you were crying. Tears drip from your cheeks as you push your hips down over Wonwoo’s fingers until you can’t take it anymore, the overstimulation making you close your legs around his hand. 

Giving you one more deep thrust of his fingers, Wonwoo presses his lips to your shin as he slowly and carefully slides his fingers from your warm, throbbing pussy. You were panting out your moans like a cat in heat and it was better than anything Wonwoo had ever seen or heard in his life. There was nothing staged that could measure up to you—no porn or even work of art that matched you. 

Running his hands along your knees, Wonwoo meets your eyes as he works your legs apart, feeling them shake under his touch. He knew you were still sensitive, but his cock was aching for you. Resting between your legs, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling your wet folds against his shaft as he rocks his hips towards you. One more questioning look, asking for permission, and getting a frantic nod from you is all it takes for him to ease himself into you. 

The feeling of Wonwoo inside of you is so much more than his fingers and it takes your breath away. Pressing your face against his neck, you gasp, feeling the stretch when he finally stops moving, his hips flush with yours. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo has to take a steady breath, feeling you clench around him, threatening to make him cum on the spot. 

“Baby, breathe… Is it too much?” 

Shaking your head, you cling to Wonwoo, afraid he will pull out and you’ll be empty again. You whine his name, leaning your head back onto the pillows, meeting his eyes. Searching your eyes for pain, Wonwoo lifts one of his hands to brush his thumb over your cheek as he waits patiently for you to adjust to him, though it takes every ounce of patience he has. 

“Okay, just tell—tell me when I can move.” 

Nodding quickly, you scratch at Wonwoo’s sides, hearing him hiss at the feeling. You were ready for him to move, but words were hard to form. You were finding it hard to think of anything other than him and the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside of you. Lifting your hips, you moan his name and Wonwoo groans, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. Warm breath fans across your lips as he nods and whispers, “Okay,” before moving slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or himself too quickly. 

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, more tears roll from your eyes to your temples at how good it feels to have Wonwoo inside of you. The way his cock stretches you so perfectly and how his head brushes over your spot each time pulls out enough to push right back into your warm walls. 

“Please, please, Wonwoo, baby... faster.” 

Your pleas come out as sobbing moans, causing Wonwoo to give you a concerned look, but as soon as he sees the fucked out look on your face, he can’t help but give you what you want. His thrusts become more urgent and harder. With each one, Wonwoo feels you get that much tighter around his cock until finally the coil inside you snaps. He had thought you were wet before but feeling your cum on his cock was an experience that Wonwoo knew he would never forget and it was enough to send him barreling over the edge after you. 

Resting his head against your neck, Wonwoo curses under his breath, feeling his cum seep out of you, mixing with yours. He was usually much more careful than this, but he had gotten lost in the moment. Shaking his head, Wonwoo carefully slides out of you and meets your eyes full of guilt, only to find you still full of bliss. 

“I didn’t even ask, baby. I’m sorry—” 

Sliding your hand along Wonwoo’s jaw to his neck, you shake your head and close your eyes. You knew what had happened and what could come of it, but that wasn’t something that you could concern yourself with today. Right now, you are just happy to be alive and in bed with Wonwoo. It was the first time in possibly your entire life that you were this happy and you wouldn’t let him spoil it with guilt. 

“Don’t... just tell me that you love me again.” 

Unable to stop his lips from pulling up in a smile, Wonwoo shakes his head at your reaction to the situation. Moving to lay beside you, knowing neither of you could stay like this for long without taking a shower, he pulls you into his arms and presses his lips against your neck. You smile, wrapping your arms around his. 

“I love you, Y/N.”  

“I love you too, Wonwoo.” 

This was the longest you had seen Wonwoo sleep. Even as you ran your fingers delicately along the bridge of his nose, he barely flinched. A smile pulls at your lips at the sight and at how warm and safe you feel lying next to him as the sun rises. 

During the time that you had been awake, Wonwoo’s phone had gone off twice. You had a good feeling that the missed calls were from Park Bonhwa, but you couldn’t bear the thought of waking Wonwoo or checking his phone. There was a beautiful silence surrounding you both and not even that man could ruin it, as long as you didn’t let him. 

Tracing the dip of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow, you watch as his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes slowly open. It was selfish of you to touch Wonwoo so much when he was sleeping so soundly, but seeing his eyes on you and feeling the comfort of them made it worth it. 

Pulling you into his arms, Wonwoo grunts softly at the feeling of your cold fingers sliding along his ribs. He could get used to this—waking up and seeing you first thing. He wanted to get used to it, but there were things that had to happen first. 

“Mm, morning, baby. “ 

Lips press against the top of your head and you find yourself nuzzling against Wonwoo’s chest, not wanting to face anything in the real world. You like the way his deep voice sounds when you are so close to his body, the way it seems to vibrate in his chest. Resting your ear against his chest, you smile and bite at your bottom lip, hearing Wonwoo laugh. 

“Don’t wanna get up?” 

Shaking your head, you whine, and Wonwoo runs his long fingers along your back, stopping to draw small circles along your spine before tracing each notch on his way up to your neck. He understood the sentiment and wanted to give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you wanted now. 

“We need to talk about what comes next. Cheol is going to work on what we need for you to disappear, but he needs payment.” 

There was always a catch to everything. That was something that you understood from a very young age. Everything came with a price. Your father never let you think that money grew on trees. Despite knowing you were incredibly wealthy and that you could potentially have anything you wanted, he made you earn his respect before he would give you any allowance or credit cards. Your father’s respect had cost the most out of anything you had ever paid for in your life. You will never forget the day you told your mother that you loved your father more than her and watched her face fall. 

“Mmkay, how much money does he need?” 

Wonwoo shakes his head at the mention of money. Of course your mind would go to money first; that was how your father had probably raised you. It wasn’t your fault that you were the way you were; Wonwoo understood that now. You were broken because you were carefully shattered piece by piece by your father over the course of your life. 

“Not money, baby. Information. Trust me, this will be good for everyone in the end.” Smirking, Wonwoo lifts his hand from your back to scratch at his eyebrow as he scoffs at his own words, correcting them. “Almost everyone.” 

Information was a currency you were familiar with; it just wasn’t something you commonly used. You have seen your father get rich off information plenty of times. Leaning your head back, you glance up at Wonwoo, furrowing your brows as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. 

“About my father?”

The next couple of hours you spend against Wonwoo go through what you know about your father’s company. You tell him more about the business dinners and dates that he has set up for you over the years and though Wonwoo listens carefully, he seethes. Every new piece of information he leaves about your father makes him hate the man even more. 

It’s when you get to your mother that you find it more difficult to talk with confidence. You find strength in Wonwoo’s touch, his hands gliding over your skin as his lips press to your forehead, taking in each word. Your sorrow at losing the one person who meant something to you, becomes Wonwoo’s sorrow when tears drip from your cheek onto his chest. 

“Baby… I know this is too much. I’m sorry, we can talk more about the business side—”

“It’s okay. It’s his fault.” Rubbing your nose hard, you pull your legs under you, letting Wonwoo tuck you into his side. “I don’t know how, but I just know it is. She didn’t just die.” 

There is no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that you are right about your assumption. With as much life insurance that your father had placed on you, he could only imagine the amount he would put on a spouse. 

“He kept reminding me after her funeral that I loved him more. He kept giving me gifts and all this money…” 

Leaning his head back against the headboard, Wonwoo tries to picture you mourning and your brute of a father wooing you out of it with possessions. The cold woman who had treated her staff like trash was just a reflection of him. 

“He’ll pay for that, Y/N. I promise.” 

You nod along with Wonwoo’s words, though you don’t understand how he plans on making that happen. In your eyes, your father was bulletproof. He was a cliff face that you kept hitting as the waves pushed you around like you were nothing. 

Tracing the shape of your bottom lip as you rest against his shoulder, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling concern wash over him. You had talked until you couldn’t anymore. Exhaustion had taken over you and not even having him next to you or food in your stomach was enough to keep your eyes open any longer. You looked calm like this—breathing softly against his bare skin—even as you squeezed your eyes shut a bit tighter in your sleep. 

Wonwoo carefully slides his arm from under you, letting your cheek rest against his palm as he adjusts the pillow under your head. Now you look comfortable. He hated the idea of not having you in his arms, but there was much left to do. Giving you one more glance as he swipes his phone from the nightstand, Wonwoo opens the bedroom door and closes it before making his way downstairs. 

Seungcheol was trying not to get antsy about his current situation, but the minutes were ticking by and it didn’t seem like you or Wonwoo were in a rush. So when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the detective lets out a sigh of relief, leaning against his car. 

“I won’t lie, I had a few moments today when I thought you might be fucking me over.” 

Smirking at Seungcheol’s words, Wonwoo uses his index finger to pull the blinds ever so slightly from the window so he can check the street out of habit. 

“Just when we were starting to like one another?” 

Getting behind the wheel of the Audi, Seungcheol scoffs and presses the button to start his car. The sooner he could be away from the station, the better, especially if this conversation was going to go where he imagined it to. Hearing the sound of the engine as Seungcheol wastes no time in pulling out of the parking garage, Wonwoo shakes his head, dropping the blinds back in place and lowering himself into a nearby armchair. 

“I needed time to talk to Y/N. She’s the one with the most information, and she had plenty. Like I said, Cheol… you’ll get a promotion out of this.” 

Seungcheol can’t stop himself from taking a deep breath in anticipation. If the information was as good as Wonwoo was alluding to, this could be the best decision he has ever made. 

“I’m listening.” 

“And I have terms.” 

Of course he did. The good feeling that Seungcheol had for a fleeting moment sank right back into his chest with Wonwoo’s words. Leaning his head back against the leather headrest, Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel and narrows his eyes as he speaks. 

“Again, I’m listening.” 

Tilting his head, Wonwoo bites at his cheek out of a mixture of nerves and frustration. He knew that Seungcheol would be happy with what he had to tell him, but he had to make sure that you were taken care of. On top of that, he hadn’t known that he wanted to leave with you; that was a possible kink in the plan as far as Seungcheol might be concerned. 

“New name, meaning all IDs.” Seungcheol groans in annoyance at Wonwoo’s request; it was what he had assumed, but as soon as he starts to speak, he is cut off and rendered speechless. “For both of us.” 

“I—” 

Picking at a loose string on the chair, Wonwoo listens to Seungcheol struggle to make heads or tails of what he had just asked of him before he continues. 

“Money; we both know she can’t keep her accounts. We will need a safe flight out of Korea.” 

With his head spinning at all Wonwoo was asking of him, Seungcheol pulls his car over, putting it in park, before letting out an unamused laugh. 

“I—well fuck… anything else? Would you like for me to make her the Queen of England while I’m at it?” The amusement fades from his voice as he smacks at his dashboard. “Why are you asking for impossible things? How in the hell am I going to get you out of Korea?” 

“Figure it out, Seungcheol! Or are you not interested in bringing down her piece of shit father?” 

Throwing up his hands, Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, unsure what could be worth giving up, Jeon Wonwoo. 

“For what? Some shady trading? The insurance policy? Give me something better than that or I’m gonna bring both of your asses in.” 

“Embezzlement, laundering, and possible murder.” 

Every snide comment and scoff that Seungcheol has been giving Wonwoo stops when he hears those words. 

“If—can she prove it?” 

Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo digs his nail into his thumb, feeling frustrated with Seungcheol and the entire situation. You shouldn't have to prove anything. It was practically being laid out for him, but he understood that some horses had to be led to water. 

“Y/N said there is a lawyer, Son Hyunwoo. Pay him enough and he’ll spill everything.” 

Typing the name into his phone and keeping Wonwoo on speaker in his car, Seungcheol nods, looking over the practice that Son Hyunwoo belongs to and some of his more prevalent clients. To the general public, his client list looked like a billboard for great service and reliability, but to a good detective, it screamed corruption. 

“This is good. If he talks, I’ll get you what you need. I’ll be in touch.” 

Wonwoo runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath when the phone disconnects. He hoped for your sake, more than his own, that you were right. 

— Two Days Later —

Bonhwa glares at his phone, seeing Wonwoo’s name. The man had been avoiding him like it was his job and now, just as he was about to have the dogs on his heels, he decided it was a good time to call. Gritting his teeth, Bonhwa answers his phone while pushing the heel of his hand under his nose to clean the white powder from it with a loud sniff. 

“Wanna make this easier on everyone by bringing her to my office? I promise I won’t kill you; just break something.” 

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo had already prepared for Park Bonhwa’s empty threats. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore than he was afraid of a dog without teeth. He knew that Bonhwa couldn’t find him, which means he couldn’t find you. With time, if the two of you stayed in Seoul, he might get a sniff on a trail, but that wasn’t happening. 

“I’ve been busy. Why are you so fuckin’ grumpy?” 

Watching Seungcheol load a suitcase into the trunk of the car as he talks to you, Wonwoo furrows his brows, hearing Bonhwa’s voice go up an octave. He knew he was pushing his buttons, but he had a reason. There was always a reason behind what Wonwoo did. 

“Why—why am I? You stupid son of a bitch! Half! I get half when I deliver proof of that bitch’s body to Hyong. Do you know how humiliating—” 

Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Bonhwa stops mid sentence to stare at the desk in front of him. He had half a mind to get in his car right now and search the entire city for Jeon Wonwoo. Feeling his phone vibrate in his hand, he furrows his brow and lets out a disgruntled sound, ready to continue telling Wonwoo off when Wonwoo speaks first. 

“Check your email. It’s done… makes no fucking sense to drive around with a body.” 

Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he paces talking to Bonhwa, you barely hear Seungcheol talking to you. Noticing you aren’t understanding what he’s telling you, the man steps in front of you, obscuring your view. 

“Can we finish our conversation now, Y/N? He’s fine. He’s taking care of what he needs to, so let’s go over the rest of this shit.” 

You weren’t sure how you felt about Choi Seungcheol. You could see why he had been the one who had gotten close to Wonwoo, he was tenacious and abrasive. Nodding, you watch as Seungcheol lifts his brows and leans to take a folder out of his car, showing it to you. 

“ID, passport, some cash... Wonwoo knows how to get more when it’s needed. This won’t be like the pampered life you had before, so—” 

“You don’t know anything about me, Seungcheol.” 

In the short time that he had known you, Seungcheol had heard you speak a handful of times. You had to let Wonwoo speak for you or at least let him carry the conversations. To say that he perhaps had a skewed view of you based on what he knew about your father and researching you, would be an understatement. 

“Maybe not, but I’m just saying... make it last. Keep your mouth shut.” 

Holding out your hand for the folder, you lock eyes with Seungcheol as he places it in yours. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

A smirk pulls at one side of the detective’s lips at your words. That he did know. There was no way Wonwoo would put this much effort into keeping you alive if you were. Letting go of the folder, Seungcheol takes a step back and glances back to Wonwoo as he grunts, bending the phone in his hand with some effort. The screen shatters first and then the metal gives way, effectively destroying the device before he tosses it towards the river, listening to the dull thud when it hits the surface. 

“That bullshit is done. He’s satisfied with what you came up with.” 

Scoffing, Seungcheol shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a bit offended at the insinuation that anyone wouldn’t be satisfied with his work. He had gone above and beyond for this. You had been lucky that the information you had provided for him had been the best he had received in a long time. It had served as motivation for what Seungcheol saw as a work of art. 

“Yeah? Well maybe you should have dealt with pulling a Jane Doe out of the morgue.” 

Wonwoo exhales an unamused laugh, sliding his hand around your waist. He knew that Seungcheol had worked hard and he appreciated it. He could almost taste freedom and it was a strange sensation. 

“No thanks. I’ll leave that to the professionals.” Leaning to kiss the side of your head, Wonwoo gives you a once over before glancing back at the car, seeing it packed. “Ready to go?” 

You had no idea where you and Wonwoo were going. He and Seungcheol told you that in case things went south, it was better for you to know less. While you understood that, it still made leaving your entire life behind even more terrifying. Still, as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing that reassuring look in them, you manage to nod. 

“Perfect, can’t wait to get you both out of my hair.” 

Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s words, knowing that while he was trying to crack a joke, there was a layer of truth to them, especially concerning himself. 

“Don’t worry, Cheol. We won’t darken your doorstep again.” 

Taking a step backwards, towards his own car, Seungcheol points at Wonwoo as he speaks. 

“I’ll fuckin’ hold you to it. Show your face around here again and I’ll throw your ass in a cell.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo turns his attention back to you, reaching to open the passenger's side door. He lets you sit down as he looks down at you, much like he did a week ago under much different circumstances. 

“Where are we going, Wonwoo?” 

You watch curiously as he tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to think of how to tell you the answer without actually answering it. 

“Did you pack a bikini?” 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[ktgoodmorning]

Doing something stupid

Pina x Putellas!reader

You're home sick. TW: for some mention of throwing up in the first few paragraphs, just skip ahead a lil bit if you need to.

This is my first chapter of this one that I haven't hated so hopefully you guys like this one too!

Check out part one and part two first!

Masterlist

You were jolted awake by the sharp pain that started radiating through your stomach, sitting up much faster than you should have and ultimately only making yourself feel worse. Grabbing your phone, you checked the time: 2:00AM. You felt horrible. A minute later, your stomach lurched again and you quickly realized what was happening. You immediately pushed yourself out of bed and towards your bathroom, trying to keep everything down until you dropped to your knees in front of the toilet. The second your knees hit the floor, your stomach lurched and everything you had eaten the night before seemed to make its way back up into the toilet in front of you. 

What was likely no longer than a couple minutes felt like it went on for ages, as you continued to cough and gag until there was nothing left in you, tiredly reaching up to flush the toilet. Your energy was gone. All you could do was use the hem of your t-shirt to wipe the edges of your mouth as you curled up on the bathroom floor. The cold of the tile was inviting, more than your bed could ever be, so that’s where you would reside for the near future. 

You felt horrible, to say the least. The longer you laid there, the worse you felt. At first the cold tile was nice but you soon found yourself shivering despite the sweat that had accumulated on your skin. Your mind was completely fuzzy, too overcome with how disgusting you felt to think straight. Somehow you had managed to bring your phone with you to the bathroom and it was now laying on the ground next to you, making you to check the time again. As soon as your phone lit up, you were distracted by the picture of you and Claudia that came on your lock screen. 

The picture made you immediately crave her presence. There was nothing else that could make you feel better, just your girlfriend. She was all you needed. Even if you couldn’t quite think straight, she’d know what to do. You struggled to keep your eyes open as you unlocked your phone and pressed the call button, only half awake as you let it ring. She wouldn’t have her notifications on, you knew that. But somehow even in the haze you were in, you knew she always had it set so that you could call twice in a row and it would go through. 

It was the second call that she picked up, just as you expected, her voice rough from sleep. “Amor? Estás bien?” Something about hearing her made all your emotions hit you like a bus even though you knew in the back of your mind that you still weren’t thinking straight. 

You choked back a sob, not wanting to worry her so much although given the time, nothing you did would be able to help with that. “I don’t feel good, Clau. Can you come over?” Your voice was hoarse, partially from being sick and still not completely awake, partially from trying your best not to cry. 

“I’ll be right there, Mi Vida, I’m coming as fast as I can.” There was a rustling on her end of the line as she got out of bed and tried to get herself a little bit more awake to come over. The clear pain in your voice worked better than any amount of caffeine and you could tell this as soon as she switched to match your language. You let out an inadvertent whine as you felt your stomach cramp up again. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’ll be right there.” She continued talking as she ran to her car and started driving. 

What was normally a ten minute drive was cut down to five from how fast she was going, staying on the phone with you the entire time to continue her soft reassurances. Luckily, you had given Claudia a spare key long before you started dating. You had always been friends so she had been the obvious choice, after your family of course. 

You had dozed off slightly while your girlfriend was driving, only waking up when you heard her calling to you. As soon as she opened the door, she was somewhat surprised to see you not lying on the couch. It was one of your favorite spots in your apartment, especially when you were sick, but when she didn’t see you in your room either, her anxiety started to spike. “Amor?” she called out softly to you but was hardly reassured by the whimpered response that she followed to the bathroom. 

 “Oh Honey,” she dropped to her knees to join you, cradling your head in her hands softly. “Did you sleep here on the bathroom floor?” 

You curled into her touch, shaking your head weakly, “No, not for long. I just threw up and I didn’t feel like getting up.” 

“When you said you didn’t feel good, I thought that meant a cold, not the freaking plague, you look miserable.” She spoke with a soft smile but her attempt to lighten the mood went unnoticed by you. “Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do- fuck. You’re burning up, babe.” The athlete started to gently gather you in her arms, thankful that her strength would allow her to get you up. “We gotta get you in bed, so you can keep sleeping, and I’m gonna get you some meds to help with your fever, okay?” You gave her a weak nod and just gripped onto her sweatshirt, as she picked you up. 

You were in and out of sleep from that point on, trusting that Claudia would do whatever she needed to to make sure you were okay and taken care of. She had forced some medication in you and got you comfortable in your bed so that you could instantly drift off again. Once she was sure you were sleeping, your girlfriend fell asleep on the other side of the bed, just holding your hand as you were far too sweaty to be cuddling.

.....

Claudia awoke with a groan at the sound of your alarm. In all the chaos of you being sick, she hadn’t even thought to turn it off. She carefully leaned across you to silence it, hoping not to disturb you too much now that you had gotten comfortable. Before getting up herself, she placed her hand on your forehead only to find you still feeling warmer than normal. She flopped back onto the bed to think for a second and figure out what to do. There was no way she could get out of training to stay with you, especially without giving away your secret. It was a short day of training, so she thought maybe if she got you everything you needed now, you’d just stay asleep until she was able to get back to you afterwards. 

“Babe,” she jumped slightly, not realizing you had woken up. “You’ve gotta get ready for training. You can borrow my kit if you need to, but you can’t be late.” 

The dark haired woman raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“I’m sure I’ll just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine, Clau. You need to be at training. Can you just use my phone to text the staff I’ll be gone?” Your eyelids were already feeling heavy again, as you rolled into your pillow to go back to sleep. 

“Mi Vida can you stay with me for just a couple more minutes so I can get you something for that fever?” she shook her head at your silence, somehow already knocked out as Claudia got up to get ready and get you a few more things. Once she had found your training kit and gotten her hair into her signature ponytail, your girlfriend returned to you with a cold towel and fresh blanket. 

The athlete tried her best to slowly pry your blanket from your grasp but somehow was met with a shocking level of strength given the state you were in. “Clau, noooo.” you whined at her as you tried your best to keep a tight hold on the warmth you continued to crave. 

“I know you’re cold, but that blanket is getting gross, you need a clean one.” She chuckled at your sleepy pout but took advantage of your loosened grip to swap them out. “Want me to tuck you in before I leave?” While you still kept your eyes shut, you could still here the slight smirk in her voice. 

“I’m not twelve,” it was an ironic statement from you considering your whining at the moment. 

“You didn’t answer my question, though. Do you want me to tuck you in?” The smirk was much bigger now, but you were too tired to care. 

“Yes.” 

Your girlfriend giggled at you and how angry your voice sounded over something so simple, but got you all tucked in nonetheless, finishing it off by placing a cold towel on your forehead. Claudia leaned down for a moment to get closer, just taking in your sleeping form, the way your eyebrows were slightly furrowed, your face pale. She placed a soft kiss to your cheek and brushed some hair off your face. “I’ll be back soon, amor, call the training staff if you need anything, they can get one of us so we can come help you. I love you.” You only gave her a small hum in response before she turned to leave for training. 

…..

“Has anyone seen mi Hermana? If she overslept I will go drag her out of bed myself.” The captain started grumbling to herself as most of the team just gave her some random shrugs. Claudia’s eyes went wide. She assumed that in telling the coaching staff you were sick that they would’ve passed it on to her, both as your sister and as your captain. It was clear that standing in the locker room, she was the only one who had any idea where you were. 

“She’s home sick…” her face went red and she tried her best not to meet Alexia’s eyes as the entire room looked at her. “She, um, she texted me.” The brunette instantly felt all eyes go to her, all but the few people that knew about your relationship. Cata tried her best to hide a smirk while Alexia just stared at your girlfriend, confused. 

She knew you and Claudia were friends, you’d been close for much of your life having grown up playing together, but she still couldn’t process that you’d text Claudia instead of your sister that you were home sick. Alexia also knew, better than anybody, that you turned into an absolute baby over the slightest sniffle. You were much like Alba in that way and Alexia could never quite understand it, but you would always become clingy and whiny in a way she never saw from you otherwise. Your ability to take care of yourself seemed to go out the window the second a germ made its way into your body. 

“Well, is she okay? Why did she text you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. I stopped by her place quick on my way here, and checked on her.” It was obvious your sister was starting to panic so Claudia did her best to act natural and reassure her that you were taken care of without saying too much to give away the nature of your relationship. 

“You stopped by to see her? Before training?” That almost gave it away more than anything else. Everyone knew Claudia loved her sleep more than anything else (apparently not more than you) so the fact that she was willing to take the time from her sleep to go check on you was weird, to say the least. Somehow that fact seemed to go unnoticed by your sister, but the rest of the locker room definitely took note as Alexia stormed out of the room to try to call you. 

She made her way around the corner to try to collect her thoughts as the phone rang. No answer. Your phone was always on silent and you were still sleeping hard so you had no idea she was even calling. The captain’s frustration and panic only grew when three more calls went unanswered. Nothing could ease her worries unless she could see you for herself and make sure everything was alright. The fact that you were sick and hadn’t immediately called her for help and cuddles was a big red flag already so she quickly stomped her way to the coaching offices. 

As soon as she entered, your sister started tearing into everyone for not informing her of your absence. As captain, she should’ve been the first to know no matter what but especially as your sister, she couldn’t believe that somehow she seemed to be the last to find out. 

“Can I please leave to check on her? I won’t be gone long and we’re starting with film anyways which you know I’ve already watched.” It was true. Everyone knew your sister was borderline psycho when it came to analyzing film. The game they’d be watching today she had already watched at least three times already which made it easy for the staff to agree to let her leave. 

The blonde was basically running to her car to come see you. If your sister knew anything about you, it was that you were not okay with fending for yourself when you were sick, especially if it was bad enough for you to miss training.

At the Barça training grounds, Claudia found herself growing more and more anxious. Even though you were both normally somewhat mindful of how much time you spent together at training, she was surprisingly lonely in your absence. She missed getting to glance over and see you smiling at everyone and everyone. She missed the way that she’d catch you staring at her from the other side of the pitch or smiling to yourself when you overheard a joke she made. She missed the way she could tell you were listening to her talking, even from across the room, trying your best not to make it obvious. She missed you in a way that she didn’t realize was possible. You filled a void in her life that she didn’t realize had grown over the coarse of your relationship.  

It didn’t help that your girlfriend was also getting more worried about the possibility of Alexia finding out. You weren’t always the most coherent when you were sick or even just tired, so she didn’t fully trust that you wouldn’t say anything suspicious when your sister stopped by. The film playing from the last game was going mostly ignored by Claudia who’s thoughts were full of everything she had done at your apartment that morning, trying to figure out if she had left any evidence of your relationship. 

Your girlfriend was right to be worried. When more calls to you went unanswered during her drive to your apartment, Alexia had all but convinced yourself you were probably dead. She barely even gave it a second after knocking before she pulled out her key to unlock your door herself and call out to you softly. If you were sleeping, she didn’t want to risk waking you up but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. When her first call of your name went unanswered, she immediately checked the couch where she was shocked to not find you. Instead, when she slowly opened the door to your room, she saw you curled up in bed, sleeping peacefully, looking extremely comfortable and definitely not dead.

The blonde was standing frozen in your doorway. You seemed to be fine. The blanket you were half-wrapped up in was definitely clean, the towel on your head was still somewhat cool, there was a medication bottle on your bedside table with a note of when you could take another one, and your water bottle was laying next to you. By all accounts, you were extremely well taken care of. 

In her need to at least do something, she came over to softly place a hand on your skin to see how your temperature was doing. You didn’t even seem warm. The sweat had disappeared, there were no more goosebumps covering your skin, you were completely fine. Maybe you were a bit paler than normal, but compared to how you normally looked when you were sick, it was like an entirely different person. 

Alexia made her way back out to your kitchen, but not before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. How were you so okay? So… not-dead? She felt useless, especially after leaving training just to come check on you, so she even checked your fridge just to find a small container of soup, waiting for you to heat it up. Who did that? Certainly not you. Claudia? Your secret girlfriend who, speaking of, was now nowhere in site, even though you always reached out to somebody when you were sick, if nothing else just so you could get some cuddles and someone to keep you company. Maybe this girlfriend wasn’t quite as good as Alexia had assumed? She should’ve been the one to be here taking care of you. 

When it became clear that there was genuinely nothing else for Alexia to do for you, she drove back to training, not at all sure of what to think of the whole thing. 

.....

By the time Alexia returned to training, everyone was scattered around, taking a break before heading out to the field, some people were grabbing a quick snack, others were just laying around wherever they could find a spot. It was pretty clear to anyone that saw her that your sister was completely in her head about whatever she had found at your place. She wasn’t really looking at anyone and was completely not focused on anything going on around her which was extremely weird for her. 

“Ale, what’d you find? How was she?” Mapi approached her gently, trying to lead her away from the others in hopes she’d get the usually closed off captain to talk at all. She pulled her down to sit next to her on a random bench somewhere. 

Alexia’s eyebrows were furrowed deeply, still hardly even looking at the woman in front of her, her voice much more distant than usual. “I don’t know. She was… fine?” 

“So that’s good, right?” 

The blonde groaned, running her hands over her face for a second, before speaking again. “No. I mean- yeah. Yes, that’s good. I just- I don’t know.”

“Take a breath, Ale. Just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“I’m glad she’s doing okay, it’s just weird. She was fully taken care of, she didn’t need me at all. She was sleeping, had some meds, water, soup in the fridge, everything. I literally didn’t need to do anything, she was completely fine. It’s just weird.”

Mapi remained silent, nodding at the older woman, hoping it would encourage her to continue talking and maybe reach the obvious conclusion herself. 

“And where was this supposed girlfriend, huh? (Y/n) hates being alone when she’s sick so why didn’t she call this girl? Or why didn’t she come? Why was Pina the only person she called instead of this girlfriend who I thought was so great for her?” 

The younger woman immediately froze at the mention of Pina. This was not at all the conclusion Mapi wanted her to come to, and she was about to be pissed at you if somehow she was the one who took the brunt of Alexia’s anger. Somehow though, maybe just due to her current emotional state, your sister somehow seemed to miss what she was starting to imply. 

“At this point Pina seems like a better friend to her than this random girl who’s supposed to be taking care of her. It’s just weird though, Mapi. Like it’s good that she’s taken care of and doing well but that was always my job. And now somebody else is doing it? Or she’s doing it herself? I don’t even know but it’s just- I don’t know. She doesn’t need me anymore.” She had gotten much quieter than before, letting out a soft sigh, “I guess she’s just grown up… and I didn’t really realize that until now.” 

The look on her face was a weird mix of hurt and sadness that Mapi couldn’t quite read. 

“Ale, she still needs you, even if she can fend for herself now.” She placed her hand on Alexia’s should in an attempt to comfort her but was just met by her rapidly shaking her head. 

“No. No, you don’t get it. Last week, she didn’t even come for dinner cause she said she was making it herself. And then she brought me cookies that she made as an apology. She made them! Since when does she make treats and come apologize? That’s always my job. And now she’s home sick and is just fine without me? She doesn’t need me anymore Mapi!”

“Alexia, do you hear yourself? If she didn’t need you, she wouldn’t have bothered bringing you treats to apologize. We all know, that’s the number one way to her heart. And she used it for you. Maybe instead of needing more tangible things from you, like dinner, and medicine, and soup, she just needs your love and your approval, and your friendship. She still needs you even if it isn’t for something specific like that.” 

“I guess,” it seemed like Mapi’s words were maybe starting to get through to her. Alexia was still skeptical but it seemed like somehow Mapi was making sense for once in her life. “But what about this stupid secret girlfriend? Why won’t she tell me about her? And why did Pina have to help her this morning instead of this girlfriend, that should’ve been her job!” 

The younger woman just shook her head. At this point it was almost funny. For how smart Alexia was, she sure was being stupid right now, but Mapi wasn’t about to complain. “Ale, one thing at a time. It sounds like she just wants time to explore this relationship on her own awhile before letting other people into it. Maybe whatever happened this morning is part of that?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know. At this point I’d almost rather have Pina.” Mapi rolled her eyes. How was she so oblivious? 

“Hey, let’s go! Come on!” The two friends were interrupted by Cata yelling as she jogged past them, signalling the end of their little break. 

“Just trust her, Ale,” Mapi stood and helped Alexia up to head out to the pitch. 

“I trust her as long as she’s not doing anything stupid!” The blonde gave Mapi a certain look before jogging ahead to join the rest of the group, leaving her best friend standing alone, muttering to herself.

“Well Pina’s not that stupid. Depending who you ask, I guess.” All she could do at this point, was hope it wouldn’t blow up in all of your faces when the inevitable happened.

Masterlist

Hope you enjoy! As always, feedback and requests are super welcome! One more part to this one for sure, maybe two, would love some requests on where we want it to go.

[luveline]

carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he’s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)

—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 

“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 

Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 

He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 

“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 

Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 

It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 

Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 

Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 

“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 

Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 

Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 

Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 

“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 

Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 

Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.

You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 

Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 

“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 

You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 

“I’m fine,” you say. 

Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 

“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 

“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 

He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 

Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 

“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”

You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 

“What can I do?” he asks finally.

He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 

Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 

“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  

He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to anything.” 

“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 

“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 

“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 

You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 

Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 

He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 

“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 

“He said he’s banned for life.” 

“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.

You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 

Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 

He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.

“That was really weird,” you say. 

He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 

“Dick,” he says. 

You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 

“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 

“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 

Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  

He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 

“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.

[sinofwriting]

4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | I ❤️ MILFS verse

One

The first time Logan celebrated Mother’s Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother's Day.

His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Logan’s head hadn’t fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.

He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said world’s best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.

Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his momma’s jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy momma’s day.

Two

In 2014, Logan got to celebrate mother’s days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.

She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.

Three

Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.

“Dude, these are like fifteen grand.” Oscar hisses under his breath. “Yeah and none of them are the one.” He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. “Do you have anything else?” Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. “Of course, Sir. Our next display.”

Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. “That one. I’ll take that one, please.” “Are you sure?” He frowns, “Yes. I’m sure.”

He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. “Momma is gonna love that one.” “Do you have the money for that?” “Of course.” Oscar’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I can’t imagine how much these will be.” Logan nods, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve got money.”

The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.

“This necklace is forty thousand pounds.” Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take it. And no gift wrap please.” They blink at him before nodding. “Of course.”

Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.

“Are you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother's Day gift or not!” Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m eighteen now and it’s my money. Momma can’t kill me for buying her this. Besides, I haven’t given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And she’ll love that necklace.” Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “Okay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.” “Something tells me you don’t want to know how much your birthday present was.” “What does that mean?” Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging. “Logan, what does that mean?”

Four

“Can I help with anything?” Logan jumps at the sound of Max’s voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back. “Shit.” He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. “You okay?” “I’m okay. You just scared me.” He chuckles. “Help with what?” Max eyes him for a moment. “Mother's Day. I know that it’s in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didn’t know if you wanted help with anything.” “Oh.”

Logan looks at the older man, he doesn’t need any help with Mother's Day. Already has his momma’s gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.

“Actually yeah.” Max’s whole face lights up. “What can I do?” Logan quickly says goodbye to his momma’s Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother's Day can just be her Christmas gift. “There’s this watch she likes, but there’s maybe ten available in the world right now.” He starts to tell Max.

Plus One

Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasn’t really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscar’s dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though… Max feels like his dad.

He cares about him, and not just because he’s dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isn’t scheduled for media for a few hours.

It hasn’t yet been a year, but Logan already can tell he’s fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasn’t let himself think of himself like that. He’s heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Logan’s parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.

But Logan wants Max to call himself Logan’s dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when he’s too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.

So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his momma’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Can we talk?” “Always.” His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. “It’s about Max.” Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. “What about Max?” Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. “I want to call Max dad.” His voice goes quiet. “I want him to be my dad.” “Oh, baby.” And her voice breaks around the words.

He sits up to look at her. “Are you mad?” “No.” She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. “No, baby. Not at all. I’m happy. I’m so happy.” “So, it’s okay?” She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. “Logan, you can call anyone you want dad, that’s not my choice, that’s yours.” “Do you think he’ll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father's Day. Give him a card too.” “I think Max will be over the moon.”

A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.

“Hi.” He greets. Max smiles at him, “You didn’t need to bring me breakfast.” He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. “I wanted to. It’s a special day.” “I mean, Le Mans isn’t this kind of special.” Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.

“Get enough sleep?” Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. “Wasn’t too bad. I actually have something else for you, because y’know special day.” Max’s eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.” He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Max’s face.

Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.

The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.

“Logan,” he starts, and his voice is thick. “Happy Father's Day, dad.” Logan speaks before he can say anything else. “Come here.” He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. “I love you so much, kid. So fucking much. I’m gonna be the best dad for you.” “You already are.”

[nottsangel]

— artrick and camgirl!reader ੈ♡˳

it began as just a quick way to make some extra money during college and nothing more than that. you were a bit apprehensive at first, aware of the risks and consequences of someone finding you, but eventually, you started to find joy in it, especially because you received a lot of attention— even more than the other girls on the same website. people, who where mostly older men, started to like you, and money began to pour in like never before. but no matter what, you had to keep it a secret from everyone.

yet, patrick who scours the whole internet for porn that matches his specific taste, managed to unexpectedly find you while you were live. he almost couldn’t believe his eyes— his best friend, with her legs spread wide as she touched herself and loud moans escaped her mouth. and god, the way you moaned sounded so angelic, with your pretty, soft lips parted in ecstasy. he simply had no other choice— he had to tell art.

“i swear to god patrick, i don’t wanna see those golden shower porn videos again.” “just, trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this.” patrick insisted as he opened his laptop. he glanced at the time. 10 pm. that was usually when you came online on thursdays, because yes, patrick had already watched you so many days in a row, he memorised your streaming schedule. “who are these girls?” art questioned with a raised brow, puzzled as to why patrick would show him random camgirls, until he noticed he noticed you— fully naked while you held a vibrator against your swollen clit, causing his eyes to widen as he leaned closer to the laptop screen. “holy… fuck.” “yup. i know.”

and that’s how it all began. now, every day right before you would come online, patrick and art would sit impatiently next to each other on the bed, eagerly waiting for you to go live. “you think she’ll use that pink dildo again?” art asked patrick with clammy hands resting on his knees. “god, i hope so. that one’s my favourite.” and when you finally appeared on screen, a smirk spread simultaneously across both boys’ faces as they stared mesmerised at the screen, quickly adjusting their positions as their pants grew uncomfortably tight.

it was somewhat odd— it almost felt like video calling with you, as if you were touching yourself just for them, until they were hit with the harsh reality of the comments and countless men thirsting over you. the wave of comments flooding in during your streams, especially when you would interact with them, evoked a complex mix of emotions in patrick and art. they were consumed by jealousy— they wanted you for themselves, and they hated the fact that others could see what they saw. “jesus, these men are fucking desperate.” art exclaimed while reading the quick-paced comments with an unamused face. patrick shook his head in disapproval as he let out a chuckle. “i bet they’re all jerking off while watching her, fucking creeps.”

and ultimately… they found themselves becoming what they once criticised the most, as they’re now shoulder to shoulder in art’s stanford dorm room, hands tightly wrapped around their throbbing erections as they pumped it quickly. “this, uhm… this isn’t weird, right?” art questioned, his breaths coming in quick pants as your moans echoed through the shitty speakers of his cheap laptop. “no, no… i mean, we’re looking at her, right? nothing weird about that.” patrick reassured art as his eyes stayed fixed on your movements, and art nodded in agreement.

and even now, as they masturbated not only on their own to you but together, while watching you strip and bring yourself to your orgasms over and over again, they still hung out with you as usual. you noticed a change in their behaviour though— you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but they seemed more, nervous around you. you brushed it off quickly though, thinking it was just you. but little did you know they were indeed nervous to be around you now, as their eyes scanned every inch of your body covered in clothing, knowing that they had seen all of it— all of you, naked.

“do you… do you think we should tell her? that we know?” patrick asked art as they were once again, sitting in art’s dorm room, their hands lazily pumping their cocks. soft fucks and oh my gods slipped from your lips and resonated through the room along with the buzzing sound of your rose toy, which was the usual on fridays. “i mean, yeah, we should, eventually. maybe… uhm, next week… or something.” “yeah, yeah. next week.”

ੈ♡˳

🏷️ tags: @maizweig @swamp-box @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @unhingedbanks @imawhoreforu @mcugirl @skylerwhitwyo @maybankswifey @hearts-4-kai @takaosin @imbabycowboy @badesire @parkerloves @diorrfairy @jizzlle

[leclerity]

just another stranger

Charles Leclerc x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.4k words summary: After Charles's win in Monaco, he seeks you out, to mend things. a/n: everybody cried at the monaco gp but let's cry some more! (happy ending)

He wins in Monaco. You knew he would—it was only a matter of time—but you always thought you’d be by his side when he won.

Yet here you are, in your friend’s apartment, watching him as if you were just another stranger to him.

“He won,” your friend says, a moment too soon, and then: “CHARLES LECLERC WON IN MONACO!”

The room erupts into cheers and you’re watching half the race playing on the TV, half the track from the window, hearing the roars of the audience match those of your heart. Your friend hugs you and the rest of your friends are screaming, popping champagne as if they were the ones in the car, not your ex-boyfriend.

You feel an arm around your shoulders – it’s your best friend. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Promise,” you lie. “I’m fine.”

She goes away and you lean out of the window, hoping to catch the sight of his car passing by. If he drives slowly enough, if he remembers that this is where your best friend’s apartment is, if he looks up… You tell yourself not to hope, but your heart thumps in your chest, anyway.

The roars of the crowd come before the car, and then you see him – the striking red car with 16 stuck to the front. You’ve been here before—in Monaco, with him, in the paddock—yet now you’re watching him from a distance. It was his choice, all those months ago, but your final word.

He doesn’t look up.

Not that you see, anyway.

The victory lap finishes and your friends all rush to the couch to watch the podium, even though you can just about see if from the window. It’s not close enough to see anything more than tiny figures, dressed in splotches of colour, but it makes it just a little more real.

The podium comes and goes. You tear up, on the balcony, shifting between looking at the events in real life and on the TV. There’s the tiny voice in the back of your head, wondering if he’s wondering about you, too, but you try to push it down.

Still, on the podium, even with tears of joy in his eyes, you see him searching the crowd. They’ve already shown his family and most of his friends are down there and he knows it, and the voice suggests he might be looking for you, too.

“Let’s go out,” your friend says. “Celebrate.”

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“You don’t want to meet him by chance? Congratulate him yourself?”

You give her a look that tells her it’s just about the last thing you want.

Eventually, your friends leave, and you’re left by yourself, scrolling social media. He’s everywhere—all your friends from Monaco are posting about it, even those you haven’t seen since you moved away—and his face stares at you, guilt brewing in your stomach.

You’d made him choose.

He didn’t choose you.

When the door buzzes, you think it’s your friend who forgot her key—they’ve been out for a couple of hours now and they’d be at least a few drinks down—yet when you buzz them up and open the door…

It’s he who stares back at you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Can we talk?”

You let him in. He sits on the couch, still wearing his Ferrari shirt,

“I thought you’d have gotten changed by now.”

Charles shakes his head. “I, uh… I came straight here.”

You sit down, opposite of him. Through the open window, you can hear life from the streets of Monaco – loud, drunk people, celebrating the win as if it were their own. Your friends are there, amongst those people, but you…

“Why?”

“I know you moved away,” he says. “And I remember where your friend lives. And I hoped…”

He doesn’t finish. You see the cogs turning—the words flying around his brain, refusing to come out—and you smile at him. “Congratulations.”

He sighs. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re not happy?”

“No.” Charles looks at you, his eyes crystal clear, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. “How could I be, without you?”

“Charles—”

“How many times have we spoken about this? About the win, at home, with you by my side?”

Your body shudders as memories flood you: the nights spent together, whispering about it in the dark… The dream of him driving up the car and running up to kiss you, knowing that you made it… The promise of being there to watch him step on the podium as the anthem is played…

The guilt grows bigger, and you stifle a sob.

Charles shakes his head. “I wish you were there. I wish I hadn’t pushed you away. I wish I’d appreciated you more.”

But you didn’t, you want to say, but you don’t.

Old you would. Old you wanted to be the first, the priority, the number one to the great Charles Leclerc – only to always fall second, behind racing. Behind the car. Behind practice. Behind excercise. There was less and less time made for you, until you told him to choose.

He puts a hand on your knee. “I know this isn’t fair, but it’s been nearly a year, and I… I was wrong. I was wrong, okay? Coming home to an empty bed, not knowing how your day’s been, not seeing you in the paddock every race, Y/N, it’s killing me.”

It’s killing me, too, you want to say, but you don’t. You can’t—won’t—admit that out loud.

Someone’s laughter pierces through the night. Charles’s eyes dart to the window before they’re right back on you and he moves closer, and the part of your thighs touching shocks you to the core.

You try to remind yourself you’re just another stranger to him. You weren’t worth more than racing to him then, you’re not worth—

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers.

A tear falls down your cheek – he wipes it away before you can, and then he’s looking at your lips with water welling up in his eyes, too.

“Charles…”

“I wish I could—I want to go back to a time before it was too late. I want to fix things. I want to do it right, and not be a damn fool again.”

His hands are on your cheek and you can feel his breath on your lips – all it would take is for you to lean in. Just a little movement, just a little show of faith. You whisper his name again, this time no more than a breath.

You feel him sigh. “It’s not winning if it’s not with you.”

Your lips are on his, tentative then desperate, trying to make up for all the words you can’t bright yourself to stay. His hands are on your cheeks, then your waist, then your back, and you feel like he’s touching you all over just to make sure you’re real, that he’s truly holding you, and not a dream.

You don’t say that the past few months have been the worst of your life. You don’t say that you were selfish, and that maybe you failed to account for who he is, and always will be—a racer—and maybe you were the one who was asking too much from him. Maybe you’d rather be second to him, than be anyone else’s first.

And maybe you’ve known this all along, but admitting it was too much – until today.

Until now.

The kiss comes to a close and Charles pulls you into him, skin on skin, and you’re melting into his arms. He places kisses all over your hair, your face, your neck and your chest, not letting go of you even for a moment.

Later in the night, when you’re lying in your friend’s spare bed, you see the winner’s smile for the first time as he kisses you yet again. Monaco is alive outside, with the night still a long way to go, but partying couldn’t measure up to the electricity surging from his touch.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Mhm?”

His thumb traces your lips. You’ve been here before—a million times—but this time, it’s different. It’s old and new, fresh and familiar, and just a little, you start letting yourself hope again.

“Now, I feel like I’ve finally won.”

[lavenderspence]

Cute, Outraged Genius | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, Spencer being a bit of a technophobe

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Spencer comes home only to find you using a kindle…cue, outrage

A/N: This is just a cute little story about Spencer being our little technophobe genius. I actually don’t own a kindle, so don’t know how those work or anything, but physical books are in fact superior, so.

The quote at the end is from “Book Lovers” by Emily Henry

You loved his apartment, sometimes more than you loved yours. Being in his space, surrounded by his things - his books, his clothes, the silly art he indulged in. Being drowned by his scent, meters upon meters of space he’d touched, it soothed you like nothing else could.

The peace you felt whenever you were in his space was unparalleled.

You loved his bedroom, the plushness of his bed, his closed, where you found yourself stealing his shirts and cardigans, never giving them back. 

Your favorite place in apartment 23 was his couch, where he found you often enough, when he returned from a case, curled up with a book. You loved the blanket thrown on the back and the windows that allowed for the whole apartment to light up with the sunlight. 

And then there were his bookshelves, in clear view from said couch. Filled with his favorite books, special editions he held close to his heart, or some that brought him knowledge. The shelves, that now also held some of your favorite books too.

Reading, books, was the thing that had brought you together in the first place, so when he’d made space for your clothes in his closet and your toiletries in the bathroom, he’d also made space for your books to sit beside his own. 

He’d insisted it made the place feel less like it was his own, and more like it was shared, even though you weren’t living together. It warmed your heart to know, that he saw his apartment as a home for both of you.

Seeing your books among his own, made you fall even more in love with him because he knew what they meant to you. So much so, he tumbed through a few, leaving sticky notes with his little thoughts between the pages.

As for your first meeting, it was funny.

You’d met a year ago, at a cafe close to his apartment. Stuck in a long queue, waiting for your turn, your nose had been buried into a book, completely oblivious to your surroundings. Spencer had been standing behind you, and like the nosy dork he is, had been reading along with you, over your shoulder.

When he’d pointed out an inaccuracy in the plot, compared to real life, you’d screamed, slamming the book shut, and successfully making a fool of yourself in front of the whole cafe. 

He’d apologized bashfully, and asked to buy your drink for you, and then lingered for a short conversation before he’d been called away on a case. 

In his hurry to get to the FBI on time, he’d forgotten to take your number. Two weeks later, and after a lot of blaming himself for being a dumbass, he’d seen you again, nose buried into another book, sipping a beverage next to the window of the cafe. 

You hadn’t attached puzzling looks this time, and he’d gotten your number. A year later, you couldn’t be more happy for the fact that your boyfriend sometimes didn’t really get social cues.

You smiled, thinking back on that day. 

You focused on your book again, eyes dancing around the page, following with rapt attention. 

Reading was one of the few things that brought you peace, quieted your brain, and improved your mood. 

Sometimes you envied Spencer’s genius, being able to go through War & Peace at breakfast, without batting an eye. Reading, and reading, and still having the time for other things. If, in your lifetime, you could read as many books as Spencer had read thus far in life, you’d be happy. 

You were giggling, kicking your feet, and enjoying your book, when you heard the telltale sign of Spencer arriving home - his key being inserted into the lock. 

You didn’t move your eyes away from the book, having reached a great part of the book. 

The door opened, and in walked your boyfriend, a peep in his step, happy he’d get to see you and spend time with you after 6 days of being away. 

He left his keys in the bowl next to the door, freed himself of his shoes, and set his messenger bag down. 

He walked further in, noticing the vanilla and chocolate scent in the air - you’d followed tradition, baking a small tray of chocolate chip cookies as a welcome for him. 

He stood behind you, draping his hands around your neck, and leaned over to kiss the side of your head gently, finally diverting your attention away from the book. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, warm breath tickling your neck next, as he kissed around your ear and pulse point. 

“Hi there, babe.” you were whispering too, finally happy to be in your own bubble. “How are you? How was the case?” you asked, just like you did every time, just like you did every day. You always wanted to know how he was, you wanted to know about his day, and he’d gotten so used to it and had done it so many times for you too, it had become routine, a way to show each other you cared and loved each other. 

“I’m good, a little tired maybe,” he nuzzled your neck, eyes shut in contentment, “The case was tough, but successfully closed at the end,” he rarely elaborated, only if someone was hurt, or the case had taken a toll on his mental health. Other than that, he didn’t like bringing the gory details of the cases home with him. 

Home was his space with you, where you laughed, and sometimes cried. Where you cuddled and made love, read together, or to each other, where you cooked, where you relaxed. It was no place for the realities of a BAU profiler. 

“What are you doing?” it was a simple question. 

“I’m reading,” and there was an even simpler answer, except if you were Spencer Reid, a doctor with three PhDs, three bachelor’s degrees, an FBI agent, and a complete, and utter technophobe. 

You felt him lift his head before he choked out a high-pitched “You’re what?” and you turned around to see him, shock and betrayal written on his face, his eyes as big as saucers. 

You looked at him like he’d grown two heads, but you knew you should have expected this. 

You’d made the decision to get a kindle last week, and you’d used the time he hadn’t been home to set it up and try it out. 

“What are you even reading on that thing? That’s not a book!” he was outraged, but at the same time, he looked so cute, that you started laughing. You brought a hand to your mouth, in hopes of muffling the sound a little because you were losing it, laughing with everything you had. 

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny. I’m serious.” you just laughed harder, even though you tried to reign it in and stop. 

Around a minute later, your laughter started dying down, and you looked up, only to see him with his arms crossed against his chest, an expression between bewilderment, and those deep brown puppy eyes staring straight into your soul.

“It’s a kindle, Spence, it’s all digital,” you told him

“No, I know that, but you can’t be serious,” your brows furrowed, a bit butt hurt, until he continued, “You know, readers prefer physical books. A recent study found that only 21% prefer e-books, as little as 14% audiobooks, and 65% are physical book readers. Another study found that your brain absorbs less when you read on a kindle than on paper.” You laughed again, loving his brain, and then patted the space next to you, waiting for him to sit down.

“I thought you were pro saving the planet Mr. Three PHD’s.” you joked, waiting for him to sass you back. After all, one of your favorite characteristics of his was how sassy he was. 

“Well, yes I am, but statistically, physical copies are superior. A book needs to be physical, not whatever bullshit that is. Come on, let’s just return this, and I’ll buy you all the books you want,” he went to stand up, and you pulled him back down by the back of his shirt. 

“Aww babe, I know you will!” Spencer loved buying some of your books for you, he loved seeing the smile on your face when he bought a book you’ve wanted for a while. You buried your face into his neck, hugging him to you. 

“Come on, let’s cuddle before dinner, get a cookie, and I’ll read to you for a bit, I just reached a good part,” you whisper into his neck, and he exhales, reaching towards the coffee table to get a cookie before you relax into each other, and you pick up the kindle, reading where you left off. 

“We really are two opposing magnets, incapable of being in the same room without drawing together. I want to scrape my fingers through his hair and kiss him until he forgets where we are, and everything and everyone that ever made him feel like he was a disappointment. And he’s looking at me like I could, like there’s an ache in him only I could soothe.” you read, hand running through his hair, happy to have him back.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[inkdrinkerworld]

Maybe Spencer is having a bad BAD day, full on ptsd, and sunshine!reader is trying hard to cheer him up. It gets to a point where Spmcer just snaps and says something mean and starts a fight

Spencer can feel the bars around him. He feels trapped in his own mind because he can see that he isn’t in prison anymore, but his brain has been conjuring these vivid dreams of him being back and of Shaw sending men to beat him up.

Every night, the dreams end with Spencer never being found not guilty and him having to spend five years in prison and his eventual death from Shaw’s men.

He’s gasping and shaking and there’s a sweat spot on his sheets. He apologises every morning, you tell him it’s okay and that you’re here to talk. He never wants to talk about it and you never push.

He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night and it makes him irritable.

When he comes into work, you try not to internalise the way he brushes you out of his path as he beelines for the coffee pot.

“I already put your cup on your desk. With breakfast.” You try to temper your cheeriness when you notice the way his shoulders tense.

Spencer wants to be grateful, but all he can think is, ‘I can do it myself. I can take care of myself.’

He doesn’t say anything, not a quiet thanks, not even a half smile.

Your nerves are frayed immediately.

You don’t know what Spencer experienced in prison, he’s told you bits and pieces, the nicer parts of living in a 4 x 4.

Yet, you know the signs of PTSD and as the day drags on, you’re almost certain Spencer’s having a rough go of things.

He’s been snappy with Luke, nice with Penelope, and then flippant with you all over again. It’s hard not to feel like nothing you do is helping.

“We could go out to get lunch. From the place you like, the burger joint.” Spencer’s been slipping in and out of this conversation and the longer he hears your sweet voice, the more it sounds like chalk grating a blackboard.

At his silence, “Or we could order in? Whatever helps, Spence.”

Suddenly, his coffee cup is shattering in the wall behind your head and Spencer’s chest is racing. “Stop!” You feel hot tears prick behind your eyes at being yelled at; at work no less.

“It would help if you weren’t fucking hovering all the damn time. I can take care of myself, I don’t need your help. As a matter of fact, I don’t want your help. Go find someone else to be happy go lucky with, some of us can’t stand it.”

Your breath hitches, you’ve never heard Spencer speak with such venom. You reach a hand to your cheek pulling it away to find blood on your fingertips. Spencer must see it too because he’s on his feet, reaching for you as you step away from his outstretched hands.

You try to remind yourself that he’s just reeling, that he’s been having a rough couple of nights, that this will pass and that you don’t need to be mean to him too. “Fuck you Spencer.” The words are out of you before you can think about it much more. It’s honestly the nicest thing you could muster right now, embarrassment and defeat hot in your chest.

Emily and Matt rush in, finding Spencer tugging at his hair. Emily sighs as she sees the broken mug, Matt sighs as he notes your missing presence.

“Fucking stupid.” Spencer murmurs to himself, pushing back his chair, digging around in his desk for a first aid kit. “I’ll come back and clean it up,” no one is really listening. Emily will do this for him while he cleans up his other mess.

Spencer finds you in the bathroom with Penelope cleaning the little shards from your hair and cheek.

She glares at him and Spencer feels even worse; to top it off you don’t even look at him, just at his shoes.

“I’ll finish it, Garcia.” She stills, not knowing what to do. As she looks at you, you give her a little nod and she leaves, rubbing your back as she goes.

Spencer doesn’t approach you for some time, standing there like you’re the one who exploded and he’s waiting for another shout.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, taking up the tweezers Penelope left behind and reaching for your cheek. Spencer cradles your face gently as he picks the shards out. “I shouldn’t have thrown the mug, or said any of what I said.”

You don’t say anything, letting him continue. “You don’t hover, and I love that you’re always smiling and happy. It’s not an excuse but my dreams are really getting to me, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

You offer Spencer your other hand. You weigh your words, “No you shouldn’t have. I understand that some of what happened while you were in prison is too hard to talk about, but you need to talk to someone Spencer. You can’t just throw things and scream and then shut people out.”

He nods, “Luke recommended me to a psychiatrist for people suffering from PTSD, but I guess I felt like going would be me admitting that things there got to me.”

You sigh, “I’m not sure if I can do this if you’re going to shut me out and be violent like that.” At Spencer’s panicked eyes you continue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but this unchecked shit is going to. Whether you mean for it to or not.”

Spencer opens the first aid kit and swipes at your cheek gently, grateful that it hadn’t been a deep cut. Still he knows the silver scar it’s going to leave will eat at him forever.

“I made an appointment for tomorrow at nine.” He mumbles, worry and dread eating at his stomach. “I know it might take a bit for you to trust me again-“

You roll your eyes, “I do trust you. I trust that you’ll go to therapy, use all the tools given to you and cue me in when things are too hard. I trust that you won’t do this again Spencer. I’m not going to punish you for having an off day.”

Tears spring to his eyes unconsciously, “You don’t want to leave? Because I’d understand if you wanted to.”

You kiss his wrist, “No I don’t want to. I know you’re going to get better, but if there’s a next time, Spencer I’m not staying.”

“There won’t be a next time, I swear.” He kisses right under your injured cheek, tender and soft.

[metranart]

Jealous! Gojo Satoru

jealous! Gojo who ignores Geto's advice, to give you time to adapt and be friends first before starting to woo you.

jealous! Gojo who practically melts every time you bite the tip of your pencil while trying to understand something particularly difficult in class. 

jealous! Gojo who growls under his breath when he finds you in Nanami's arms after receiving some distressing news. Unable to think straight, gets dangerously close to lash out at the goodhearted blonde just to become an utterly inoffensive kitten, the moment he sees the tears in your eyes.

jealous! Gojo who not so discreetly asks for your number and pretends that it is for another reason other than his torrid crush on you but ends up sending you good morning and goodnight messages and all kinds of cat memes where he replaces the head with Suguru's photo.

jealous! Gojo who goes through your socials as soon as he has the chance and can’t help but grin like a maniac when he sees a picture of you. You have him at your mercy. You’re gorgeous, no! you are perfect to him! he just wants you all to himself.

jealous! Gojo who always tries to be one step ahead so that your missions are always with him, not with Suguru, not with Nanami, not with Yu...only with him, since if he is honest, he does not trust them around you.

jealous! Gojo who believes that he is slowly making his way into your heart, but he only ends up more madly in love with you, until one day he can't resist it anymore and holds your hand... and to his surprise, you don't ask him to let you go but just say adorably blushing: Your hands are so big and warm, Satoru.

jealous! Gojo who now walks hand in hand with you almost all the time, when you go to class, when he takes you to your dorm at night and even when Geto claims he's delusional, he insists, you guys are already dating.

jealous! Gojo who finally confesses his feelings for you and refuses to let you answer by kissing you, igniting a steamy hot make out session which leaves you breathless, whatever negative reply you had, its lost and even your reluctance goes to the back of your head, in order, to give him a chance.

jealous! Gojo who is over the moon, elated you ‘agreed’ and now you let him hold you whenever he wants. “Satoru, don’t be so clingy” Geto had said but he only stuck his tongue at him, every time the raven-haired tried to latch his hands away from you another came to replace it. Making Satoru smirk, wickedly. “God. Suguru, are you jealous?”

jealous! Gojo who slowly begins to let out his true possessive self, making comments about the most random things, like your skirt: "Isn't it too short, beautiful? I love it but I would hate for you to attract the attention of unwanted people" about your classmates: "I know that Nanami and Yu are your besties but with me by your side, do you really need to be so close to them?" slowly monopolizing your time for himself, after all he is not only your boyfriend but also your upper classmate, surely he only wants the best for you.

jealous! Gojo who literally breaks Naoya's nose when he blatantly hits on you at a meeting. "Back off, Zenin!" His eyes glowed ferally, to which Naoya just indifferently wiped the traces of blood with the back of his hand, tsking his tongue, nonchalantly. "She's not even THAT pretty, Gojo." All the available sorcerers had to separate them to prevent them from killing each other. You remember there being so much blood.

jealous! Gojo Who becomes even more jealous after that incident, scaring off any male that gets too close to you but claiming it's for your own safety, only those closest to him are allowed around but not for a long time.

jealous! Gojo who changes your mind with sex feats that blow your fucking mind away. "Nanami is my best friend, I’m going to the movies with him, period!" Gojo is bending you on his knee to spank that attitude out of you and when hears the first attempt of a sob, he pulls your panties down and massages the sore skin gently as he eats your pretty tight cunt until you are a shivering, moaning mess. "Suguru told me he saw you flirting with the girl tending the mochi shop" Gojo's pummeling his hips against your thighs, deep and steady, to make you forget his attempt to get free stuff, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh so loud and lewd that you even forget what you were complaining about, he’s fucking pounding your sensitive pussy till it’s puffy and leaking with his cum. He’s a little toxic like that.

jealous! Gojo who likes having you all to himself, he doesn't want to share you with anyone, not even Shoko or Mei, he loves you so damn much he could explode. He loves having you with him, having you on top of him, under him, against him. He's not your favorite sitting place but sure as hell, he always makes himself the only seat available. You actually don't remember how it feels to sit on something other than his muscular thighs… Shoko once said that he loves you more than is probably healthy to him.

jealous! Gojo who becomes more possessive with each passing day, growing more toxic and more aggressive when he believes that someone wants to take you away from him but loves you so, SO much that you can't help but forgive him every time, since he always promises that his blue eyes only see you, and so it will be FOREVER. You're not sure how you feel about the eternal part of that promise, but it certainly makes you feel like the most protected person in the entire planet.

I MADE SOME SICK SFW/NSFW ARTS FOR THIS DRABBLE, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. ;)

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for monster fucker anonymous!

Request: Human is chubby trans masc uses he/him with a pussy/hole/cunt. Human very happily takes a job where he is a breeding hole for monster science studies. It's like a hole in the wall where only his bottom half is on show and his top half is hidden so he can hide his face. The monsters take turns using him till he passes out or gives up. In the end he is offered a full time job as a breeding hole. He can't get pregnant but it doesn't stop monsters from trying.

The hole in the wall

Orc x minotaur x werewolf x chubby trans masc!reader || free use, breeding, cum playing, lowkey dirty talk, glory hole

When they offered you a good pay at the science lab for a job that seemed too easy, you agreed immediately. They were trying to understand the mating cycles of different monsters and they needed human subjects in the control group. Seemed easy, seemed like a great pay for very little effort. You were 100% on with it, already thinking what would you do with the money.

“This is your station.” The researcher pointed to a padded hole in a wall. A literal hole in a wall.

“Wha-what?” You asked, confused. Maybe you should have paid a bit more attention to your friend when he explained the details.

“Yeah, we don’t want the monsters to get distracted with other parts of your anatomy, so you are supposed to get your torso in there, so your hole is the only thing they can fuck out here. Didn’t they tell you this in the interview?” She asks, as confused as you.

“I didn’t go through the interview… Your head researcher recommended me.” You didn’t tell her you agreed too fast to listen to the specifics, your brain already filled with possible scenarios involving your soft body and a hard, hard monster.

You didn’t tell her you were more than happy to be fucked by monsters. It was a special kink of yours, and you never found the moment to act on your fantasies. You had been a bit too self-conscious about your body, but this seemed like a great opportunity to get what you wanted without thinking too much about it.

“Well, you have to get in there and I’ll tie your extremities, then prep you for the monsters.” She explained as you inspected the padded space. It seemed big enough, but it might be a tight fit over your soft tummy and fat ass. But well, at least the ass would be on the outside of it. You had to bite your tongue not to laugh at your silly thoughts.

“Are they sentient?” You asked. You didn’t really mind if they were feral, but it would be good to know beforehand, just in case.

She kept checking some stuff on the wall as she wrote down some things on her tablet, not minding you at all. “Yeah, they are volunteers. Each clan or pack sent their own prime specimens.”

Nervousness was not your best friend in this scenario, you felt jittery with excitement and anticipation, and a soft dose of eagerness underlying those. “What are they?” You finally asked, wanting to know what exactly you were against today.

You didn’t really mind what kind of monsters they were, but the curiosity was making you jump on your feet. You hoped there was at least one werewolf there, you wanted to feel the knot so bad it would make you look stupid if you said it out loud. So you didn’t.

“Let me check.” She looked through some papers and choked a little trying to hide a laugh. “Well, I hope you are ready. Your group includes a minotaur, an orc and a werewolf.” Oh fuck. Not only a werewolf, but two of the other biggest species of monsters. You sent a silent thanks to your friend for setting you up on this job. You were going to get paid to get your sexual fantasies fulfilled, how wild was that?

You tried to act nonchalant so she wouldn’t know how turned on you were already. “Oh… Okay.” Your voice broke in the middle and you flushed, embarrassed. Your insides turned into jelly.

“Get inside and I’ll get you ready.” She instructed.

You got naked and positioned yourself on your back, legs hanging out and back against the padded table inside the hole. There was enough space for you to move, and it felt airy and comfortable. Your arms were free and there was a red button close to you in case something went wrong. That made you feel a bit better, even though you knew you wouldn’t press it. You wanted this more than you needed air. Your need and horniness making your brain felt like it was filled with cotton candy.

It was a weird feeling to have your lower half across the wall, but not in a bad way. You felt the anticipation building up, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. She tied your legs up against the wall, your body almost in a 90º angle. You felt completely exposed as she inspected your genitals as she explained the breeding procedure. You didn’t hear half of it, too focused on her moving around and poking at your skin. After that, you felt a splash of cold lube against your boy-cunt, the researcher mumbled a soft “sorry” when you jumped a bit. She worked it over your hole until you felt slippery and wet.

The medical technicalities should have made you feel weird, but they turned you on even more. When she said her goodbyes and told you to press the red button if you had any problems you were so ready to be breed that your brain was swimming in need.

And then there was silence. Your nervousness grew, and you wriggled your ass trying to find a more comfortable position, but your tied legs stopped you. You heard the footsteps before someone said: “Look at that… He has a great ass, fuck.” Next thing you knew, there were rough, furry hands groping your ass. The werewolf. Fuck, that was hot. You covered your mouth to muffle the groans. Not seeing whoever was touching you adding to your arousal.

That same hand that groped your ass, ran a set of very pointy nails down your crack, the threat of danger making you shiver, your legs shaking against the restrains holding them up. He spanked you lightly as someone else chuckled. You could feel your soft flesh moving as the werewolf played with your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and blowing warm air over your hole.

You moaned loudly around your hand, thinking there was no way the heard, but he did it again. The laugh they let out was enough sign of it. Fuck, you forgot about super-hearing. “Such a pretty hole. We are going to have so much fun with you, little human.” You had to bite your lip to refrain telling them you weren’t little, but a picture of a monster appeared in your brain and you stopped. You were probably small compared to them, they were so big… Shit, you didn’t even know you had a size kink. Another day, another unlocked kink.

“I call dibs!” A deep voice called out, making you press your hand to your mouth harder to stop a giggle escaping. There was some kind of struggle and you tried to imagine them fighting over who got to fuck you first. They were so eager to fuck you, it was the best ego booster. All your self-consciousness about your soft tummy or big ass disappeared as they bickered about who got to fuck your cunt first.

“Dude! That’s not cool. I wanted to go first.” He sounded pouty and you wanted to see them so bad. But at the same time, some part of you was excited that they couldn’t see you. It turned you on to know you were just a hole for them, and they were going to use you as they pleased. Fuck. Why was that so hot? “Okay, but I’m second,” he finally said with a very fake sigh.

“Sure, sure… Just let me taste him first.” You jumped against your restrains when a rough big tongue made contact with your gaping hole. You cried out and heard the responding chuckles across the wall. “He’s a screamer, this is going to be great.” A hand grabbed your hips and pushed up, appearing at your side of the hole. The orc. The pale green skin looked so pretty against your soft tummy.

Images of monster porn appeared in your brain as you felt the first poke of his fingers. He went right in with two, making you arch your back and shake your legs, trying to get away from the invasion. His green hand held you still, pushing your hip down as he continued his attack on your hole until you were about to cum, groans and moans escaping your mouth.

“That’s it. He’s so ready, his insides are so fucking soft and warm. He’s so damn tight. Look at him guys, look at this hole.” The orc retracted his fingers and opened you up for the other two to see. You heard their appreciative hums and grunts, your whole body flushed with embarrassment. You were tied and exposed, completely at their mercy, and good goddess if that wasn’t exciting. “I hope you are ready, little human, I’m not going to be careful.”

That’s all the heads up you got before his dick was pressing into you in one hard thrust. His big balls hit your ass as he set a punishing pace, grabbing your hips and fucking you against his dick, using you like you were just a fleshlight for him. He didn’t stop even when you came once, twice. He kept fucking you and grunting as your tight hole gripped his length like a vice. He told you how good you felt around him, how full he was going to make you. It was such a turn on you came a third time as the first shoot of his come hit your insides.

He pulled away rapidly. You felt his cum leaking out, your hole gaping at the emptiness. You whined and they shushed you. “Don’t worry, human, more is coming.” You felt the tip of a new dick in your abused hole, bigger than the orc’s. “Ready or not, I’m going to ruin your cunt.” The minotaur voice was gravelly and growly, making you shiver as he pushed the tip of his dick against your leaking hole.

He probed at your entrance for a few seconds before pushing inside in one hard thrust. You had to push your hands to the wall over you to not hit your head with the force of his thrusts, your tummy jiggling as he screwed you. He was restless, his dick was so big you could feel it touching ever single part of you, a tiny bump against your abdomen making you see stars.

He told you how good your human cunt was, how pretty stretched around his dick, how good you’d look full of him, full of his cum. You whined and threshed, oversensitive as he fucked a few more orgasms out of you. When you felt him shooting inside of you, it felt like molten lava. It was so warm and there was so much of it, you didn’t know a monster could cum so fucking much. A bump formed in your abdomen, and it stayed there even when he pulled out. You tentatively pushed down with your hand, blushing as you heard the gushing sound of cum dripping to the floor.

Their groans made you blush harder. “His hole is gaping, fill him up. He has such an eager cunt, I want to go again.” The minotaur said, making the other two hum in agreement.

“You can have another turn later, now it’s my turn,” the werewolf said as you felt his dick slipping inside you. You felt so full, your insides messy and your hole so tender pleasure and pain mixed with every thrust. He didn’t give you a resting second, he fucked you like he didn’t care about you. You guessed he didn’t, for them you were just a breeding hole.

You thought you were full before, but the second the werewolf knot started to swell inside of you, your brain short-circuited. You couldn’t hear anything apart from your rapid heartbeat as he pushed it inside, stretching you so wide and so harshly you felt your consciousness slipping.

Next thing you knew, the orc dick was being shoved inside of you around. The amount of cum inside of you mixed with your own juices created a slurping sound that was deafening to your ears, even through the space between your wide hips and the hole in the wall.

They joked between them and talked about how good your cunt was, how pretty and puffy it looked as they pushed their cum inside over and over. You felt like a messy glazed donut. It was almost disgusting, if it didn’t feel so fucking good. Your brain was unable to focus anymore, you could only feel the come inside of you gushing out as more was pushed in. The filthy symphony of your ravishment.

They fucked you one after the other over and over, it was a never-ending bacchanal and you were the center of it.

When your brain was completely shut down and your drool was creating a tiny pool, a beep beep sound alerted you that it finished. The breeding period was over. You made it. They booed and grunted in disappointment, but your poor abused hole gave a soft twitch.

“Good job, human hole.” One of them lightly caressed your ass as the other pushed some of the cum leaking out back inside and softly told you: “Hope to see you around.” You sighed happily, brain non functioning as you heard them walking away.

You barely remembered the researcher coming back to get you, telling you the results of the day and getting your bank account. Two days later you got a call. The lab offered you a permanent position as their breeding hole.

Apparently the group of monsters talked so well about your boy-cunt that everyone else at the facility wanted to give it a go. To give you a go. The lab usually asked for different humans in each trial, but they would make an exception for you. You would be the perfect breeding hole for the monsters to spend some of their extra energy, a free human hole for them to use as they pleased.

You said yes.

Remember you can comission me, the info is here.