#can i ride him in his car PLEASE!!?!?!?!?!!

[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?” 

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[scuderiahoney]

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 8

summary: end of semester celebrations, graduation shenanigans, and the final family dinner of the year. 7.5k words

warnings: alcohol, mild suggestive content, graduation :( , one mention of hypothetical murder for hire

Oscar’s expecting an interrogation the second he steps onto the bus, which is exactly why he sits himself down next to Alex. Alex, seemingly not expecting this, blinks widely at him, half a croissant hanging from his mouth. Oscar smiles.

“That’s my seat,” George says, nudging Oscar’s shoulder from the aisle.

Oscar gives him his best sheepish look. “Sorry, there weren’t many seats left, so I just… sat down.”

Alex elbows him. “There’s two seats right there!”

Oscar looks a few rows back and winces. Since when do Max and Lando not sit next to each other on the bus? It’s usually the two of them, Charles and Carlos in the seats in front of them. This is definitely on purpose. He swallows tightly and turns to George.

“Please,” he says, laying on the pouting thick. “Just this once?”

George looks back a few rows and laughs. “Gotta get it over with at some point, mate.”

Oscar rolls his eyes at his teammate and slips out of the seat. George and Alex laugh as he walks away. He trudges back towards Max and Lando and the empty seats, wishing someone would just take pity on him.

Lando grins brightly and pats the seat next to him. “Osc! Saved you a seat!”

George is probably right. It’ll be better to get it over with, anyways.

They let him sweat for a while. The whole bus ride to the airport, the walk through security, the wait to get in the plane- the conversation never strays from the game or hockey or classes. Neither of them bring you up. Oscar’s pretty sure they’re lulling him into a false sense of security.

It’s only when he’s on the plane, somehow stuck between the two of them, that it finally happens. The plane is halfway through liftoff, and Max turns to him, closing the window shade, a sly smile on his face, and Oscar just knows.

“So, Oscar,” Max says, and Oscar can already feel the tips of his ears going red. “What are your intentions with Bunny?”

In the row behind them, Charles and Carlos are giggling. Oscar slumps down in his seat. This is going to be the longest flight of his life.

…..

You worry about Oscar the whole morning after you drop them off, and the whole journey home. You get to have your own interrogation on the plane, courtesy of Lily, though you’re sure it’s not as intense as Oscar’s dealing with. Lily just wants to know when it happened, and if he’s treating you well, and when you knew you liked him, and if it’s nice to have everyone know now, and-

“How’s the sex?” She asks, whispered, and you choke on your ginger ale.

“Lily!” You hiss, eyes darting around the cabin. “We’re in public!”

The two of you burst into laughter, and you nearly knock over your drink. Luckily, the disruption of it seems to move Lily away from the subject, and eventually, your face stops feeling so hot. That is, until you get off the plane and head for the parking lot.

Logan had volunteered to pick both of you up, and you spot his car easily. Not only because it’s recognizable, but because of the two figures leaning against the side of it- Alex and Oscar, waiting with eager smiles. Lily grins and nudges your side.

“He survived,” she says. “And they let him pick you up. That’s a good sign, huh?”

You nod, and when you’re within arms reach you’re happy to let him wrap you up in a tight hug. You can feel the way he presses his face against the top of your head and takes a deep breath. You’re not sure you should admit how much you missed him- you might sound crazy. You’d seen him hours ago. But really, the past few weeks have been so hectic that this feels like finally coming home.

“How bad was it?” You ask, squished next to him in the backseat. Lily’s on your other side, while Alex took shotgun and is yapping away at Logan.

“Well, they haven’t contracted Carlos to murder me yet, I don’t think, so, overall I’d call it a success,” he says, shrugging. “It wasn’t that bad, really. They just care about you a lot.”

You nod in understanding and lean into him. “Well. I’m just glad I got you back in one piece.”

The drama comes when Logan pulls up in front of your apartment building, and both you and Oscar climb out. The freshman leans out his window, brows furrowed.

“I’ve got strict instructions,” he says, voice timid, “to drop you off here and bring Oscar back to the house. Team meeting.”

You groan and roll your eyes, fighting the urge to stomp your foot. “Team meeting, right after the championship? Let me guess, captain’s orders?”

Logan shrugs. You know why Max is doing this- he’s trying to keep Oscar from staying at your place. It’s stupid. He and Lando are already starting to get on your nerves.

“We’re adults, Logan,” you grumble, shaking your head. “They are not my brothers, let alone my parents, and-“

“Hey, it’s okay,” Oscar says, and you whip your head to look at him, eyes wide. He shoots you a wink, and you try and figure out where he’s going with this. “Just let me help carry up her luggage, and then I’ll come back down. It’d be rude if I didn’t.”

And Logan, all southern American charm and a gentleman at heart, shrugs and nods. “Yeah. Good point.”

“Perfect,” Oscar says, hauling your suitcase out of the trunk of the car.

You swing your backpack over your shoulder and swipe to open the front door. Oscar steps inside, and you follow him in a hurry. In the passenger seat and backseat of the car, Lily and Alex are already laughing.

“You’re not leaving, right?” You ask, turning to Oscar.

He gives you a bewildered look. “Are you kidding? I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

He kisses you in the elevator on the way up to your apartment, National Championship hat turned backwards on his head, his hands on your hips. When the doors open, he drags your suitcase down the hall to your apartment for you and drops it on the floor in the entryway. You take your shoes and jacket off and sigh, pouting at him.

“I am gross,” you mutter. “Between the bar and the hangover and the airplane…”

Oscar laughs and reaches for your hand, heading towards the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up, then.”

“Oh!” You say, face heating up. “Together?”

He turns over his shoulder, a soft grin on his face, cheeks pink already. “If you want?”

You nod eagerly. “I want.”

…..

“Logan,” Alex says carefully, nudging his teammate’s shoulder. “Mate. Um. He’s not coming back down.”

Logan turns to Alex and blinks, and then his eyes go wide. “Shit.”

“It’s been ten minutes,” Lily adds from the backseat. “They’re probably already-“

“Don’t make it worse,” Logan whines, putting the car into drive. “Oh, Max is gonna kill me.”

Alex snorts. “Max knew that was never going to work,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s just playing a little bit of mind games with Oscar. He’ll chill out soon, don’t worry.”

“And in the meantime,” Lily adds, “maybe just try and stay out of the middle of it.”

…..

The last few weeks of school seem to fly by. Normally, you’re excited for summer, but you can feel the days slipping out of your hands and find yourself desperate to hold on. You cherish every moment, from family dinners with the whole team even though the season is done, to the end of season sports banquet that you get to be Oscar’s official date for, to the date nights with Oscar that leave you grinning from ear to ear. It all makes you wildly happy.

You spend a lot of time at the house with them once Max and Lando finally calm down about the two of you dating. Max still gives Oscar a dirty look when you both come downstairs together in the mornings sometimes, but you always shoot him a glare back and he settles down. They’re coming around to it, you think. They like Oscar, after all.

You spend most of finals week camped out at their kitchen table, studying like and. They all rotate in and out- you quiz Lando on his vocab for one exam, edit one of Charles’ essays for him, and watch over Max’s shoulder as he submits a PowerPoint for a final project. Oscar’s there anytime you are, sitting next to you, supplying you with snacks and water and words of affirmation. He’s your calm in a storm, your steady anchor. You’re beyond thankful for him, and you tell him every chance you get. He always says it right back.

You finish your last final of the year on a Wednesday, and you head over to the house nearly immediately afterwards. It’s strangely quiet- almost everyone is out taking exams or doing last minute studying. But Oscar’s there, waiting on the same couch the two of you shared on that snow day months ago, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi, baby,” he says softly, opening his arms wide for you. “All done?”

You nod, crawl onto the couch, and bury yourself against his chest, relishing in the way he wraps his arms so tightly around you. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and you feel your face heat up. When he laughs, you hide yourself in the crook of his neck and sigh. He rubs his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion, and you feel the last bits of stress drain from your body.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Sleepy,” you mumble.

Your head slips lower to rest against the firm plane of his chest. His arms are strong around you. You could stay here forever, you think, wrapped up in him, breathing him in.

“Take a nap?” He suggests, fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’ll wake you if anything important happens.”

“Mm,” you hum. He doesn’t have to suggest it twice- you were already thinking about it. “Yeah. Okay. You’re comfy.”

He laughs, the sound of it rumbling against your ear. “So are you.”

It’s easy to let yourself fall asleep. You feel safe here, head against his chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breaths. He’s warm underneath you, around you, like the sun on a summer day. You feel him kiss your forehead just before the whole world falls away, and you fall asleep with a smile on your lips.

You wake up a little later to Oscar shushing someone, followed by hushed voices. Max and Lando, whispering, a note of teasing to their voices-

“You picked the living room to take a nap,” Lando hisses, “and then expected us to not wake you up?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Oscar retorts, his hand brushing up and down your back. “She came in from her last exam and she was exhausted, so.”

Max makes a little noise that sounds vaguely like approval. “Well. At least he’s taking care of her, no?”

You can practically hear Oscar roll his eyes. “Well, she is my girlfriend, so.”

“We should do something when she wakes up,” Lando says, and you should really just open your eyes but you can’t find the energy. Ten more minutes, maybe. “Grab dinner or something.”

“We could get takeout and take it to the park,” Oscar suggests. “It’s a nice day.”

Max hisses softly. “The park by the athletics building? Um. She doesn’t- we don’t usually-“

Right. They think you still hate the park. They’re used to taking the long way around to get to class or restaurants or anything because of your refusal to walk by the soccer fields. Max is trying to look out for you all over again, like he always does.

You open one eye and say, quietly, “the park sounds nice. Give me ten more minutes.”

Beneath you, Oscar’s chest rumbles with laughter. Max and Lando break into wide, happy grins and nod in agreement. When they walk away, Oscar leans down and kisses your forehead, promising to wake you up in ten minutes. You nod, too.

…..

The guys throw a party that Friday night, because it’s tradition, at this point. Exams are done, classes are long over, and the seemingly endless summer stretches ahead. There are burgers that Max grilled on the counter next to the Jell-O shots Charles made. You’re playing a game with some of them when Oscar joins you.

“Oh, you do not want to be over here right now,” Charles says in a warning tone, as Oscar wraps one arm around your waist.

He hooks his chin over your shoulder and hums. Max gives the two of you a side eyed glare, and you roll your eyes. Oscar’s a little more bold when he’s had a few drinks, a little more willing to engage in PDA. You’re definitely not complaining. You lean back against his chest and sigh happily.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got one,” Carlos says, and the group falls quiet. “Never have I ever… had sex in this house.”

Half the group laughs. Everyone who lives in the house takes a sip, and so do you. You see Max’s hand fly out of his pocket from the corner of your eye, and hear the resulting smack when he hits Oscar on the back of the head. You splutter and nearly drop your drink as your boyfriend hisses behind you.

“Max!” You scold, eyes wide as you look at him.

“He was smirking,” Max says.

You turn and find that Max is telling the truth- your usually level headed boyfriend looks quite proud of himself. You fight a laugh and roll your eyes instead.

“I never said it was with Oscar.”

Oscar makes a confused noise. Max reaches out again and swats the back of your head this time. You duck and bury your head against Oscar’s chest, bracing your arms over your head for protection.

“Dunno why you’re hiding in my shirt, if-“ Oscar starts.

“Okay, obviously it was you,” you interrupt.

He hums again and wraps his arms around you protectively. “Okay. Hide all you want, then.”

“You do not hit women,” you hear Charles say, and then you hear the sound of what you can only assume is his hand hitting the back of Max’s head.

Max yelps. You open one eye just in time to watch him swat at Charles. Carlos, seemingly satisfied with the drama he’s created, takes his cup and walks away. Oscar reaches a hand into the fray to try and break Max and Charles’ bickering up, but he gives up nearly immediately.

“Wanna go outside?” He asks, quietly, lips against your temple.

You nod. He tucks you under his arm and leads you onto the back deck, where it’s quieter. The spring air is only slightly chilly, despite the late hour. When you shiver slightly, Oscar pulls you closer as he heads over to the porch swing. You settle in comfortably next to him.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all night,” you murmur, resting your head against his shoulder.

He nods. “I know. Last party of the year. It’s their graduation party.”

You know he’s talking about Max and Lando. You’ve been glued to their sides all night, basically, shifting from one to the other. You’d played a round of beer pong with Lando, a round of flip cup with Max, had found yourself wedged on the couch with them as they debated hockey strategy, three shots deep and incoherent.

“You could have hung out with us too,” you say, elbowing him lightly.

“I just figured…” he shrugs. “They’ve been your friends for years. And they’re leaving. I thought, maybe it’d be nice to have one more night for the three of you to just be… the college kids. The hockey players and their adopt-ee.”

In less than 24 hours, Lando and Max will don caps and gowns, and walk across the stage, and you’ll be in the stands cheering so, so loud. Max will be off to a new city. So will Lando. They’ll be far, far away. Your chest feels tight, all of the sudden. When you turn to look at Oscar, his face is a blur through your tears.

His face softens. “I know, baby.”

He pulls you into his chest protectively as the tears start to roll down your face. He’s here. You’re both staying the summer. You’ll still have George and Alex, too, and the other teammates you’ve befriended along the way. But Lando, that bright eyed, sleepy hockey player who took you under his wing, and Max, your brash but affectionate pseudo older brother, will be gone. Off to bigger and better things.

“I’m gonna miss them,” you admit, throat feeling tight. “Do you think they’ll miss me? Or will they just… forget?”

Oscar lets out a pained noise. His lips brush against the crown of your head. “Oh, baby, no.”

Before you can say anything else, you hear the back door swing open. “Piastri,” Max says, in a warning tone. “What did you do?”

“You want me to tell him?” He asks, quietly.

You nod.

Oscar pulls away only slightly. “Just a little sad,” he says, and you sniffle. “You know. Things are changing. People are graduating. And leaving.”

Max strides over in a couple steps. You turn away from Oscar’s chest to blink up at your friend. There’s a pained look on his face. The door opens again, and Lando’s there, taking in the scene with wide eyes. You sniffle softly. Oscar kisses your forehead and pulls away.

“I’ll be inside if you need anything, okay?” He says.

You nod again. He gets up, and you fight the urge to break down and sob for only a moment. Then Max is there, sitting down on one side of the swing and pulling you under his arm. Lando, seeming to have figured out what’s going on, makes his way over too and sits on the other side. You let out a shaky sigh and tuck your legs up onto the swing, arms around your knees.

“I haven’t done this without you guys,” you say, the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Not since… since freshman year. I can’t-“

“You can,” Lando says, squeezing your shoulder. “But you won’t have to. There’s these crazy inventions called phones-“

Max reaches over and smacks the back of his head, too, and that makes a laugh slip past your lips. Lando winces, rubbing at his scalp, though he doesn’t retaliate. Max squeezes your other shoulder reassuringly.

“What Lando is trying to say,” Max says, “is that we are not abandoning you, and we’re not going to forget about you, and you’re going to have a great last year of school and then go do amazing things, yes?”

You sigh. “Should’ve taken summer classes and fast-tracked college and graduated with you guys.”

“What, and miss out on senior year with your star hockey player boyfriend?” Lando teases. You roll your eyes and jab a finger into his side. “Ow. Come on, you know I’m right.”

“You know, I am the one who convinced Oscar to come here,” Max says, raising his pointer finger. “So really, I get the credit for this. I brought you a very good boyfriend.”

You know he’s right- you’ve heard it from Oscar. That he’d quit hockey before Seb sent Max to talk to him. You wonder a lot what that conversation was like, but it’s not for you to know the details. You just know that Oscar saw something he could trust in Max, and Max saw potential in Oscar.

You blink back at him, something warming in your chest. “You do like him.”

Max scoffs, shaking his head. “Of course I do. I was very upset for him when you said you had a boyfriend, because I knew if he’d have just told you how he felt-“

“You knew?” You interrupt, eyes wide. “You knew he had feelings for me and you-“

“Bunny, it was obvious to everyone other than the two of you,” Lando drawls, and you elbow him, earning a yelp. “You were both head over heels for each other.”

“Honestly, it was a relief once you told us he was your boyfriend,” Max says. “We were rooting for the two of you. Just had to give him the right amount of crap about it. You’re our friend, we’re protective, it’s what we do.”

You laugh at that, letting your head fall back against the swing. The house is a blur through your tears, and you blink to clear your vision. The lights are low in the kitchen, and there’s music pouring out of the closed door. You can see the dining room table through the window, where Oscar’s sitting, laughing with Charles.

“Do you remember,” you say, quietly, “the first time I came over here?”

Lando hums. “We couldn’t find a table in the library so I convinced you to come over to work on the project.”

“God, who gave us a ride?” You ask, brows furrowed. “Logan wasn’t here-“

Lando shakes his head. “It was Seb. Back when he was still assistant coach. I gave him the sob story because you were on crutches.”

You laugh at that. “And we worked on the project and I met everyone in the house, because-“

“Because Lando finally brought a friend home!” Max says, reaching over to jostle Lando’s shoulder. “And we were all so proud.”

Lando groans and drops his head back. Max laughs, his shoulder bumping against yours. You close your eyes. In the backyard, the first of the crickets are chirping. You run a finger over the seam of your jeans.

“You’ll be okay,” Lando says, quietly. You sniffle. “And if you’re not, we’re just a phone call away.”

“And a long flight,” you point out. “Or drive.”

“But we would make the flight, or the drive,” Max says, softly. “You know that.”

You take a steadying breath. “I’m so proud of you guys, you know that?”

“Oh, come on, don’t make us cry now,” Max says. He leans over to rest his head against yours. “But we are proud of you too.”

You sniffle and smile. You wipe some of the tears from your eyes. Inside, you can see your boyfriend, chatting with Alex and Lily. You’ll be okay. You won’t be alone. But it’ll be different. Different and weird and new, and sometimes that’s alright. After all, this had been different and new once, too. All those years ago, at that kitchen table, when Lando was across from you trying to write. Max had popped his head into the room and cocked his head at you.

“Are you staying for dinner?” He’d asked.

“Yes,” Lando had answered for you, before you could even open your mouth.

It had only been the beginning.

You drag the two of them into the kitchen with you, and you pour cheap tequila into plastic cups one more time. You hand them off and raise your glass.

“To new beginnings,” you say, tapping your glass against theirs.

They echo the statement with bright smiles on their faces. You take the shots, and then they wrap you up in a bone crushing group hug. Just a phone call away. You can live with that.

…..

Oscar’s the one to drag you upstairs at the end of the night. You’re not drunk anymore, faded to a light buzz by the time everyone left, but you’re exhausted and that doesn’t help. You both get ready for bed, and then you tumble onto the mattress, sighing happily. Oscar does the same, turning onto his side to face you. He’s in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and you don’t even try to hide the way your eyes scan his torso. When you look back at his face, he’s giggling teasingly.

“Shut up,” you grumble, reaching out to drag your finger against his collarbone. “You’re hot, you can’t blame me.”

You feel more than hear the way his breath hitches in his chest. Then he reaches across the bed towards you, his hand landing on your hip. You yelp when he pulls you in close, only settling once he has your leg tucked over his waist. You trace a line from his chest to behind his ear, your fingers sinking into his hair, and you relish in the way it makes him shiver.

“You’re hot, too,” he mumbles, and you feel your face heat up, unable to keep from grinning. “And cute. And funny, and-“

“Shut up,” you groan, leaning into him to bury your face in his chest. “You cheeseball.”

He giggles again, hand coming up to cup the back of your neck and hold you close. “But I’m your cheeseball.”

You groan, softly, but you nod against his skin anyways, because really, you wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s yours. No matter how absolutely cheesy he gets, he’s yours, and you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Mine.”

He pulls your face away from his chest, then, so he can drag you into a searing, melting kiss, one that sets your nerves on fire and leaves you breathless. In the time since you started dating, Oscar’s figured out exactly how to take you apart, how to get you to go from bashful and sweet to gasping for air in a matter of seconds. You’d call it unfair if it wasn’t for the fact that it makes him the same way.

You run your hands through his hair as he rolls over and holds himself above you, one hand running down to keep your knee hooked around his waist. He slips his tongue into your mouth, hot and insistent, and you let yourself sink into the feeling.

He pulls away just slightly a few seconds later, while you’re arching your back, and he brushes his lips against your when he speaks. “You’re my favorite part of this year, you know,” he says.

You let out an involuntary whine and open your eyes to blink up at him, eyes already pricking with tears. “Oscar,” you whine, pouting dramatically. “You can’t just say that, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He laughs light and nips at the swell of your lower lip. “But I mean it. You mean the world to me.”

Your chest grows tight. “You mean the world to me, too,” you say, tracing a finger over his cheek and pressing it into one of his dimples. “More than you’ll ever understand.”

You mean it. You could tell him a million times over and you don’t think he’d get it. Oscar and the others credit you with pulling him out of his shell, but the way he supports you goes light years beyond that. You think of the brochure on your kitchen counter, your plans for the summer, the way he holds your hand through any tough decision or study session or anything in between, and you wish you could really tell him how much it means, how much you care for him, how much you lo-

You’ve been avoiding saying it in your head, because you’ve been afraid it’ll slip out in real life. But maybe, just maybe-

“I love you,” he says, before you can even form the words.

Now the tears really do form, now your chest feels so tight in the best way, now you know what they mean when they say lovestruck. There’s a light in his eyes that makes you feel so warm from the inside out. To know and be known. To hold his hand and have him hold on tightly to you.

“I love you,” you echo back, and the grin that lights up his face feels like sunshine on your own face.

He kisses you, then, again and again, and he takes you apart the way he knows best, and the two of you say I love you a million more times. When you start to fall asleep later, you’re wrapped up in his arms, limbs boneless, pleasure sated. You smile at the way he drags his lips against your neck, at the way you can feel his smile.

“I love you,” he says, one more time, as you close your eyes.

“I love you,” you say back, just to feel his smile grow.

You wake up the next morning to someone pounding on his bedroom door. Your mouth tastes awful and dry, your hair is a mess, and you’re held against his chest, face stuck to his skin. It’s mildly to moderately uncomfortable, except that it’s Oscar and he loves you and you love him and-

“If you’re not up in 5 seconds we’re coming in-“ George calls out.

“No!” Both you and Oscar yell at the exact same second, suddenly wide awake.

You sit up on reflex, then yelp at the realization that both of you are completely naked, and that you definitely didn’t lock the bedroom door the night before. You scramble to hold the blankets over your chest as Oscar groans beneath you.

“We’re awake,” you call out, rolling your eyes when you hear Alex laughing. “Don’t come in.”

“What’s the matter?” Alex calls out. He fakes a gasp of horror. “You two aren’t…”

Oscar cuts him off before he can finish the sentence. “Fuck off, we’ll be down in… ten minutes,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We can’t be late,” George calls out. You fight a giggle as Oscar attempts to pull you back down against his chest. “It’s graduation day, you know.”

Oscar’s almost got you back down on the bed, but when George says it, you scramble back up. Your boyfriend groans and drops his arms, and when you turn to look he’s already got a pout on his face. It’s graduation day. You need to get ready and get dressed and get there early enough to get a good seat and-

“We’re up,” you call out, untangling yourself from the comforter. “Promise.”

You hear them walk away and breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does, too. But when you start to climb out of the bed, he lets out a soft noise of confusion, one that makes you turn and look at him with confusion of your own.

“It’s only 8:00 am,” he says, voice soft and sleep riddled. “We have plenty of time.”

You shake your head. “We need to take showers and eat breakfast and I have to run home to get my dress.” You sigh. “And I refuse to be late.”

Oscar groans and shakes his head. His eyes never leave you as you slip out of the bed. He raises his brows as the blankets fall away, though, and he reaches a hand up to prop behind his head. You roll your eyes, though you can feel your body heating up under his gaze.

“We don’t have time for funny business,” you scold, and he blinks innocently up at you. “I mean it, Osc.”

“M’not doing anything, baby,” he insists, pouting slightly. “Just admiring the view.”

You give him a discerning glare. “You’re trying to get me back in bed and it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Would it usually?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

He laughs at that, bright and airy and full of- love, you realize. Full of love, and your chest twists, heart skipping a beat. There are butterflies in your stomach as he smiles at you, his cheeks rosy red.

“You gonna get up?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “M’comfy. Gonna stay in bed a little longer.”

You shrug and turn away, taking a few steps towards the bathroom. “Alright, fine. Guess I’ll have to shower all by myself.”

He only hesitates for a second before you hear him make a mad scramble to follow after you. His laughter echoes around you under the spray of the shower a few minutes later, and you can’t help but follow suit.

…..

You’re ready for graduation with plenty of time to spare, waving the seniors off from the house when they head over early to line up. You cry while they walk away, Max and Lando shoving each other on the sidewalk, Carlos and Charles with bright grins on their faces. You’re not sure the tears stop the whole entirety of the graduation after that, from you and Oscar finding seats, to the speeches, to all of them walking across the stage, to the caps sailing high in the air. You wipe them away just seconds before you meet back up with everyone, because as emotional as you are, this is a happy day. You keep your hand wrapped tightly in Oscar’s though.

They’re easy to find out on the lawn outside the auditorium. They’re surrounded by teammates in jerseys and other hockey gear. Lando spots you first and pulls you in for an enthusiastic hug, and Max follows suit. You fight back a fresh wave of tears, squeezing Oscar’s fingers in yours. He echoes the motion back to you, and you feel grounded, safe, cared for.

When they pull away, you pinch both of their cheeks. “I’m so proud of you two.”

Max grins widely. “We’re proud of you, too, Bunny.”

You start to tear up all over again. The hug that Max hauls all of you into- Oscar included- knocks his cap off his head and into your hands, sends Lando’s honor cords askew, and makes Oscar yelp. You’re crushed in the middle of it, laughing. You hear Charles say something and feel him bump into your shoulder. It’s not long before a giant huddle forms.

“What is it?” Carlos asks, his hand knocking against the top of your head.

“We are proud,” Max says, happily. “Of everyone.” Max smiles and pats the top of yours and Oscar’s heads with open hands. Then he pulls away, rising up on his tiptoes to try and see above the crowd. “Okay, everyone, time to celebrate. Follow me!”

You end up at the rink, because really, there’s nowhere else you’d expect to be than here. Max hands out skates to family and friends who don’t have their own while the players suit up. Tomorrow, they’ll empty their cubbies out for the summer, some of them, for the last time. But today…

You reach for a pair of skates. Max looks up, eyes wide.

“I’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he smiles softly. “One last skate, yeah?”

He lets out a breath through pursed lips. “Yeah. Hey, Piastri!” He calls out, and Oscar looks up from the bench where he’s tying his skates. “She wants to skate. You don’t let go of her the entire time, okay?”

You groan. “Max-“

“Aye aye, captain,” Oscar says, giving him a mock salute.

Max rolls his eyes affectionately before he exchanges a glance with you. “It won’t be long and they will be saying that to him, and he will see how it feels.”

At first, you brush the comment off as Max’s typical playful banter. You take a pair of skates in your size and join Oscar on the bench to lace them up. He loops his arm through yours to help you out onto the ice. Lando’s already out, skating around with his sister. Someone has given his friend Martin the aux cord, and he’s starting up a playlist. It’s been a while since you’ve skated, so you’re very grateful for the support Oscar gives as you get out on the ice. It comes back quickly, though, and he grins as he watches you grow more confident.

He’s a good teacher, a good leader. You turn Max’s comment over in your head again as the two of you do a couple laps around the rink, waving at Lando and dodging younger siblings who tear across the ice. Oscar keeps his arm linked with yours, and you lean into his warmth.

He’d make a good captain. Charles had said that, once, before you and Oscar were even close to being a thing. He has captain energy, as Lando puts it- some people are just meant for it. He’s calm, cool, collected, but he has a big heart, too. And you’ve gotten a front row seat to the way he’s opened up over the past year- he could help others do it, too. You can’t think of a better fit, really.

You slow down and turn to look up at your boyfriend. The song that’s playing is poppy and bright. Across the ice, Max is chasing Charles while Charles’ brothers laugh.

“So. When were you gonna tell me, Cap?” You ask, raising your brows at him.

He sighs. “How did you even…”

“Max made a comment when you saluted him,” you say. You’re grinning at him. “So it’s true then? They asked you be captain? Osc, come on! This is exciting!”

He wrinkles his nose. “I haven’t said yes yet. He and Charles talked to me yesterday and… I wanted to think about it. I wanted to talk to you about it. I just…”

You nod in understanding and slip your hand down to wrap it in his, squeezing softly. A bit of the tension drains from his shoulders. You lean in slightly and press a kiss to his cheek.

“Then let’s find a time, and we’ll talk through it,” you say with a smile. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great captain. But whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

He lets out a slow breath. “Thanks, baby.”

He keeps his hold on your hand and pulls you across the ice to where the rest of your friends are. Max grins wide when he sees you coming, and Lando’s face follows suit. One last time on the ice. One last day to be a team. Last, last, last, and yet- it feels oddly hopeful. Oscar takes your hand and spins you in a circle on the ice as your friends laugh and tease and joke around you, and you can’t help but join in on the joy. You lean in to kiss him, and he returns it eagerly, hands cupping your cheeks, smiling into the kiss.

There’s a loud noise, and you both pull away, startled. You wobble a bit on the ice, and your knee twinges, just slightly, but Oscar catches you. Maybe Max was right, after all. You look up and see Max, grinning, and behind him… the ice maintenance guy is driving the Zamboni out onto the rink. The one they use at games, the one they pile a bunch of kids on between periods, the one you’ve been begging for a ride on since your freshman year. Oscar’s laughing behind you while Lily skates your way, a wide grin on her face.

“About time,” you say to Max when he helps you climb up a few minutes later.

He grins. “Couldn’t graduate before I fulfilled that last wish, huh?”

It’s not as thrilling of a ride as you’d thought it would be, years ago, watching it from your very first game. But your friends are all watching, and Lily is next to you, and Oscar waves excitedly when you go past him, and that makes it better than you could’ve ever imagined.

…..

Max makes one last family dinner before he moves out, even though you offer to cook instead, and even after Charles suggests ordering takeout. You think he wants this for himself. One last chance to cook a meal for his friends, his family, really. You can understand that.

Most of the team have gone home for the summer already, and it ends up just being the guys who live in the house- Max, Lando, Charles, Alex, George, and Oscar, plus you and Lily, of course. You help set the table and make sure everyone has drinks, while Oscar chops up a salad and makes Lando go sit down in the living room before he hurts himself with one of the knives.

You all sit down together one last time, sunlight streaming into the dining room. Max brings the food in, and behind him, Charles comes in with arms full of gift bags, one for each of you.

“One last gift from your team captains,” he says, winking when he sets your bag down in front of you.

Lando gets his open first- a candle that smells like your college town, or at least it claims to on the label. So he can remember home wherever he goes. He grins and breathes it in deep. For Alex and George, it’s matching aprons, with the requirement that they continue family dinners next year. You miss Lily’s gift in the process of pulling your own out of the bag, which is shortly followed by tears filling your eyes.

It’s a large frame- a collage, painstakingly put together. It’s full of photos from throughout the year, ticket stubs and bits of receipts from family dinner grocery runs. At the center, larger than all the others, there’s a photo- you have no idea who took it, even, or that it had been taken at all. It’s from the night they won the championship, at the bar. You’re tucked under Oscar’s arm, surrounded by Max, Lando, Charles and Carlos, shot glasses in your hands. Post bar kiss, pre celebratory shot, and the smiles on everyone’s lips make you feel warm and fuzzy. As much as they’d acted like they didn’t approve, you can see the joy right there on their faces, and you’re pretty sure it’s not just because of the championship win.

“Oh, wow. Thanks, guys,” you mumble, as Oscar helps wipe away your tears. “This is…”

“We actually all helped with that one,” Max says, gesturing around the table. “Figured it was about time we made one for you.”

You lean heavily into Oscar’s shoulder and let the tears flow as you look at every single picture. Every single moment, captured and glued down here. You’re going to keep it forever, you already know it.

You glance over at Oscar’s bag and spot a jersey, a perfect replica of the ones they wear in the games. It’s got his number on it, and his name. He flips it over and you spot the C on the chest. Captain. He’d decided to accept after the two of you talked, but it makes you so happy to see it in stitching, permanent. To have it be official.

“That one’s for you to keep,” Max says, pointing at the jersey. “Separate from your game ones, so you can keep it nice.”

“Thanks, guys,” Oscar says, sounding a bit awestruck.

“Bunny is definitely going to steal that,” Alex says.

You glare at him, but he’s probably right. It does look cozy.

The food is getting cold on the table, so Max urges everyone to eat, even as you’re all still wiping away tears. The meal does look delicious, though, so you dig in.

“You know, I never asked,” Max says, gesturing towards you. “You said you interviewed for a job for the summer. Did you get it?”

“You didn’t tell them?” Oscar asks, surprised.

“It was exam week, and then graduation,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “Figured I’d tell them when things quieted down.” You grin widely and turn back to Max. Oscar squeezes your hand under the table. “I did get the job. I’m gonna help run a kids camp,” you explain. Max raises his brows. You add, “a soccer camp. And maybe coach one of the intermediate teams in the fall.”

The brochure Oscar had handed you weeks ago had been enticing, the interview even more so, and the tour of the nearby facilities had made your mind up. They’d offered you the job, and you’d accepted happily- a reason to stay in town for the summer, to get to spend time with Oscar, and a connection to the sport you loved so dearly. Getting to help others find their love for it, too. You’re so excited you can barely stop smiling about it.

Lando, who’s sitting next to you, leans over to wrap you up in a hug. Max stands up and comes around the table to do the same. You know they understand more than anyone how much this means to you, how much you’ve missed soccer, how much this feels like a step in the right direction.

Well. They understand it more than anyone, except maybe Oscar, who’s still holding tightly to your hand, a grin on his face. He’d almost quit hockey for good. He’d almost lost his sport, too. But he didn’t, and he’s here, at family dinner with you, and you’ve never been happier. You love him, and he loves you. He leans over to kiss your temple, and for once, nobody says anything about it.

There are moving boxes in the hallway. In just a few short days, Max, Lando, and Charles will be gone, their bedrooms empty, their voices missing from the cacophony of the house. For once, you don’t feel the need to cling to all of them, to dig your heels in the sand and beg for someone to freeze time. If you’d have frozen this year before it even began, you’d have never met Oscar.

Every ending is a beginning, too. After all, energy is neither created or destroyed, it just changes form. And objects in motion tend to stay in motion. You’d learned that months ago, with Oscar’s help, in physics class. Now you’re here, witnessing it. Max is off to his new team. Lando is off to a new job in a new city. Oscar’s got a team to lead, a new role to take on, a large set of shoes to fill, but you know he’ll be amazing at it. You can’t wait to see where the next year takes all of you.

The energy is always there. Sometimes it’s just about finding it again.

And you?

You’re just getting started.

…..

warning: long author’s note incoming:

hi everyone! just wanted to say a HUGE thank you for sticking with me & this series. i hope you’ve enjoyed it, and i hope i’ve given them all a satisfying ending. when i started this fic i had no idea it would end up being this long, or that it would take this long to finish, or that so many people would care so much about it!! i appreciate all the love & support i’ve gotten, especially in the past few weeks which have been a bit rough for me.

the series is now finished, but please, feel free to send me messages if you’ve still got questions or comments on the story! i’m definitely open to a few blurbs ab them here or there (a couple people asked what the lore for the pic of max & the broken door would be, so that might be a blurb topic!) overall, though, i hope you’ve all enjoyed, and that you continue to stick around! thank you again for EVERYTHING!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11 @tsireyasgf @si1ver06 @scopeiguess

[jadewritesficshere]

Slow and Steady

Steve Harrington x female!reader

Summary: You're ready for your first time with your boyfriend but are nervous based on past experiences. Steve is determined to make you feel good (3-5k words my computer broke around 1500 so I finished this on Tumblr dont know exact word count)

Contains: pure smut, reader has vaginismus (not explicitly named in the fic), talks of anxiety/nerves/doubt, fingering, cumplay, p in v, no condoms please wrap it up, creampie, pet names (Steve calls you Baby)

please note I am not a doctor. This is based on how sex is for me, not every two experiences are the same

18+ only

You sigh in pleasure. Steve is kissing your jaw, sucking lightly at your pulse that's beating wildly for him. You can feel a rush of tingling warmth spread from your spine to your lower stomach. Your hands roaming up and down his shoulders, trying to memorize the contours of his muscles. The way his hand squeezes your hip as if you would drift away if he let go.

Steve sighs, pressing his forehead into your cheek before giving you a final kiss and starting to pull back. You whine, gripping his biceps. "Steve don't! Plea- keep going!" You aren't sure you're fully making sense as your thoughts are only Steve Steve Steve. "Baby, I don't want to get carried away without talking first," Steve cups the side of your face with his hand, thumb lightly moving back and forth over your cheekbone.

"I want to make sure you're ready," Steve says looking deep into your eyes. You look away, feeling ashamed. You shouldn't be, you know this. But that doesn't stop that feeling from welling up.

You remember the first time you had sex, how much it hurt. But people told you that was normal, that it's better the next time because you weren't a virgin anymore. But that time hurt like hell too. And the next. And the next. Like you were being ripped apart, like there was something wrong.

And then your doctor told you the name of it and how some women had it. Said there were ways to work around it and work through it, but it was like cotton in your ears. All you heard was there was something wrong with you. You know there isn't, but your deceitful mind tells you there is. And now you tense up as things start to progress, making things worse unintentionally. All you could think was, 'well no one would want to work through it since no one else has before.'

But then Steve came in and tore all your defenses down. Weasled his way in with stupid pickup lines and free car rides. Rolled his eyes and gave you a 'are you seeing this?' look as he bickered with the kids before sighing dramatically and giving them what they wanted. Would wear a stupid apron when he cooked and would sneak food off his plate onto yours to make sure you had enough. You didn't stand a chance.

When Steve made out with you for the first time you wanted to cry. Thought "well this is it. He's going to leave like the rest after this." But when you stopped him, he didn't pout. He didn't roll his eyes or gripe at you, claim you led him on. Didn't try to force the issue. Steve took your no as a no and asked no questions, just pulled back smiled at you with a bulge in his pants and asked if you wanted to choose the movie now.

You broke down in tears as he tried to comfort you. And you told him everything. About how it hurt and had never been enjoyable for you. How you were scared it would hurt again. How you really liked Steve and wanted to do it with him but didn't want to disappoint him like the others. How you didn't want him to leave like the others.

And Steve let you cry into his shirt. And Steve calmed you and told you, "I'm sorry they never took care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. If you never want to have sex, we don't have to. I love you regardless of sex, I mean yeah it would be fun and I'd like to, but like- if you aren't having a good time I don't want to do it. If you do want to try, Baby, we can take it really slow. Slow and steady. But I don't want you to feel pressured to have sex, we don't need it. If you want it we can and if you never want it we don't have to."

It was like a balm to your soul. Aloe vera on a burn you didn't realize still stung. Just knowing Steve cared enough to not call it quits made you feel desired. But that little lying voice in your head said he'd get upset and move on.

But months passed and Steve stayed. Lovely, caring Steve. Steve who held your hand and proclaimed it was a perfect fit. Steve who kissed you so sweetly, following your lead. Steve who never protested or became frustrated when you stopped things from furthering on. Steve who would help you slip your shirt back on and hold you close after making out. Steve who never once complained about "leading him on" like others have.

Steve who was the first to say," I love you," and never pushed you to say it back. Steve who bought your favorite books and tried to read them so he could have another bond with you. Steve who always knew what to say to brighten your day. The Steve who showed he loved you in every little way he cared for you.

A hand on your face snaps you back to the moment. Steve frowns slightly," You okay? You went somewhere for a minute." You shrug," Got lost in my thoughts." Steve's eyes bore into your own, as if trying to see into your mind. "If you want to stop here, we can-" "No!" You interrupt, running a hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

Steve pauses, waiting on you. "I want to continue. I'm just...nervous? They say relax, but then how do they expect me to relax when I know how its been in the past? And then I get tense because I'm nervous and then I'm nervous because I'm tense and then-" Steve cuts you off with a kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as he gently kisses you. It's so tender and sweet, you can practically feel the cavities forming from how sweet it is.

Steve pulls back enough to say," If anything is uncomfortable or hurts you tell me okay? If you want to stop then you say it." You nod but Steve clicks his tongue," I need your words Baby." "Yeah, okay."

Steve kisses your forehead, murmuring an "I love you". He leans back enough to help you pull your dress off and over your head. "Fuck me," he whispers, mouth falling open. Any thoughts of cowering or hiding yourself melt away as his eyes further light up with lust. "Planning to," You grin.

Steve snorts as he laughs, shaking his head slightly before ripping his shirt off. You bite your lip as you look at Steve unabashedly. Usually you try to sneak peeks, like when he lifts his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead after a run. But now you can just look. You tentatively run a hand through his chest hair, causing him to shiver.

"Now here's what we're gonna do," Steve lightly palms himself over his jeans, groaning before speaking with a raspier tone," I'm going to take such good care of you. You're gonna take your underwear off and-"

You push your underwear down, kicking them off. Steve's jaw goes slack as he stares at your glistening cunt. "That all for me?" Steve asks. "All for you. I want you," You reach a hand out and press against his bulge, causing him to let out a whine before he grips your wrist. "Get comfortable Baby."

You lay back against the bed, relaxing into the pillows. "Now, you're gonna finger yourself." Steve instructs. You scoff," Didn't you just say you were gonna take care of me?" Steve smirks as he grabs your hand," Oh I will, but look," He holds his palm against yours," My fingers are so much bigger then yours."

It's shocking how big his hands are compared to yours. His fingers are longer and thicker then yours. You can feel yourself get wetter at the thought, but also a hint of nerves come back.

As if Steve has a glimpse into your mind, he slowly runs a hand up your shoulder to cup your face," There's no rush. I can do this all night. Slow and steady, remember?" Steve leans in and kisses you softly. You sigh into the kiss, slowly melding your mouth against his. The tip of his tongue traces your lip, leaving you begging for more.

Steve pulls back enough to whisper," Touch yourself," before trailing kisses to your jaw and neck. You can't suppress the shiver that runs through you as he hits that one spot. Steve lightly sucks on your neck as you slowly trail a hand down.

Your trembling (from nerves, excitement, or pleasure you can't tell) fingers slowly part your lips. You can feel how wet you are, starting to drip onto your thighs and under you. You slowly circle your clit, relaxing at the feeling of pleasure taking over. You moan softly as Steve continues to pepper your neck with kisses.

You lower your hand further, fingers tracing your entrance. You coat your fingers with your slick before slowly pushing your middle finger in. It doesn't hurt at the moment, but feels uncomfortable. Your brow furrows slightly, concern starting to come back. Steve is there though, kissing your forehead until you relax and using one of his large fingers to deftly circle your clit.

You pump your finger in and out, discomfort dissipating each time until you're reveling in the feeling. "There ya go," Steve murmurs reverently as your mouth falls open at how good it feels. Steve wraps his hand around your wrist, causing you to whine as he pulls your hand away.

Steve maneuvers your hand so only two fingers remain up before guiding them back to your pussy. "There you go Baby. Doing so well," Steve praises as you slowly insert the two fingers. It takes a second to adjust, to get used to the feeling.

But Steve distracts you by kissing down your chest. He reaches behind you and unsnaps your bra with one hand, the other grabbing your wrist and guiding you into a faster pace.

You let the bra straps fall down your arms, laying loosely. Steve peels your bra down and groans as your breasts sway slightly. "So fucking gorgeous," Steve groans," Doing so good." You don't even have a chance to warn him as you tumble over the edge of pleasure. You moan and gasp as you writhe against your hand. His tongue feels electrifying as he circles it around your nipple, finger circling your clit again.

You can barely hear Steve saying," That's my girl. Doing so well Baby." Your mouth is hanging open as you take in deep breaths. Warmth, euphoria, and ecstasy flow through your body freely. You come back to your body slowly, aware of Steve holding you hand, his thumb moving back and forth caressing your hand.

"My turn to touch you Baby," Steve growls out. You blink up at him a few times, still coming back down to earth. You nod as you remove your fingers. They glisten in the light from your wetness. Steve inhales sharply before darting forward, licking your fingers. You aren't sure if it was you or him who gasps, but Steve's mouth is suddenly surrounding your fingers.

Steve sucks and licks the wetness off your fingers. His eyes flutter shut as he moans. You can feel yourself getting more turned on as you watch Steve. Steve blearily opens his eyes, still sucking on your fingers. His eyes heavy with lust.

You gasp as Steve trails a finger through your folds, coating them in your release. Steve pulls off your fingers with a sudden pop, lips glistening from spit and cum. "You taste so fucking good Baby. Can't wait until I can bury my face in your pussy," Steve slowly inserts a finger as he speaks," But we'll save that for next time okay?"

His finger is definitely bigger then yours. It is slightly uncomfortable, but not painful. Steve redirects your attention by circling your nipple with his tongue again. With his free hand, he caresses and pulls the nipple he is currently not kissing and sucking on.

Steve adds a second finger once he's felt you fully relax against him. Once he's seen the unconscious tension in your shoulders go away. When he sees the clench of your jaw and your furrowed brow relax. Steve knows you have no clue you are doing this, but he is attentive and sees the signs.

When Steve adds a third finger is when you sharply inhale. Steve immediately pauses," Too much? What do you need?" "Just give me a minute," You try to steady your breathing. It doesn't hurt but it doesn't not hurt. It's a pressure and a pinch and pain but not the worst pain you've ever felt.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking away. "For what?" Steve frowns and grasps your chin, forcing you to look at him," Baby, it's okay! I can spend all day here with you- i want to spend all day with you. It doesn't bother me that this takes time. I love you. You're worth it. You're like everything to me. You should enjoy this too, not just me."

You can feel the tears start to form but you blink them away. You lean forward and kiss Steve again. He hums slightly against you before deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, pulling moans and gasps from you. You barely notice Steve moving his hand again, pumping his fingers in and out of you.

When Steve pulls back, his lips are swollen and his face flushed," Do you think you are ready or do you want me to add another finger?" You pause for a moment to think before whispering," I'm ready, just...go slow?" Steve smiles and kisses your forehead," I can do that. That's my middle name." You giggle as Steve blinks at you," That was dumb forget i said that."

He removes his fingers and you can feel yourself clench at the loss. But your heart beat picks up in anticipation as Steve finally sheds his boxers.

Steve can't help but smirk as your jaw drops. Steve is big. Bigger then you expected him to be. There's a prominent vein you want to lick, follow all the way up to the flushed tip. There is pre-cum leaking from the top. You can see at least one freckle near the base, and another on one of his balls.

Steve crawls over you, hovering above. "You ready?" He asks, eyes staring into yours. You nod. "Want to hear your pretty voice Baby," Steve threads his hand in yours. "Ready as I'll ever be," You grin shakily.

Steve positions himself at your entrance. "Hold onto me, okay?" Steve inhales and slowly exhales. You run your hands up his shoulders to the column of his neck before threading a hand through his hair.

You squeeze his hand tight as the tip of his penis enters you. "I got you, I'm sorry," Steve murmurs as he squeezes his eyes closed. "Don't be," you gasp. It isn't painful like it has been in the past. It's a stretch, slightly uncomfortable, but not painful.

Steve murmurs praises once he's seated fully in you. You exhale slowly as you get used to the feeling. Any further nerves and tension slowly goes away. You feel so good. Full. You lean forward barely touching Steve's lips with yours. Steve chases you, enveloping your mouth with his.

"Please move Steve," you whisper in between kisses. He nods. Steve slowly moves out, it makes you want to weep at the loss, but he's suddenly filling you again.

You gasp in pleasure. It's never been like this. Felt so good. "Fuck," you gasp out, nails scratching against Steve's shoulder. He grabs your leg and positions it around his hip, driving deeper into you," Yeah, we are."

You would chuckle, but you can barely think straight. Warmth spreads throughout your limbs. Pleasure. Ecstasy. You moan wantonly as you writhe against Steve as your orgasm overtakes you. Steve squeezes your hand in his, grounding you into this moment, as he presses his forehead to yours.

Every breath you exhale, Steve inhales, and vice versa. His weight pressed against you, holding you close. His hips stutter against yours, you feel his warm wet seed paint the inside of your walls. You are wholly consumed by Steve.

You slowly come back to your senses, to Steve kissing your neck. You hum slightly, pulling back to look at him. "That was...amazing," you smile at him. Steve grins back before kissing you once more," Let me get something to clean you up, I'll be right back."

You feel empty as Steve pulls out, a slight sting at the loss that dissipates quickly. Your combined release spills out of you as Steve stands up. Steve's jaw drops slightly at the sight, stomach muscles twitching as his cock kicks back up in interest.

Steve shakes his head and returns to the task at hand. He heads into the attached bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and running it through warm water. When he returns, he carefully cleans you. You shift uncomfortably from the unexpected texture against your sensitive skin.

As soon as Steve is done, he tosses the washcloth towards the hamper. He scowls as he misses, causing you to laugh. He crawls into bed next to you," Foul play, I was distracted." "Oh?" "Mmhmm" Steve covers you with a blanket and pulls you into his side.

You curl into Steve, hand resting against his chest. You can hear his steady heart beat. You absent-mindedly trace letters on his skin. "I love you," you murmur. You pause, waiting for a response.

Your brow furrows and you lift your head to look at Steve, who remains silent. You snort out a laugh. Steve's eyes are closed and his jaw slack as he breathes through his mouth. Dead asleep as you confess your love for him. You grin as you kiss his pec, laying your head back down.

You'll tell him again when he wakes. And again that evening. And again. And again. And-

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 7

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Summary: Melissa is reunited with her little boy. Final part.

WC: ~1.6k

The entire car ride to Lancaster is a painful one for the redhead in the passenger seat. She spends most of it clutching the pillow and complaining about the seatbelt hurting. You don’t have a death wish, so you stay quiet about how she shouldn’t be on this trip in the first place.

Once you’re pulled into the hospital where Melissa’s son is, you can’t stop her from all but tumbling out of the car. She’s on a warpath to get to her son, and anybody who even tries to get in her way is definitely in for it. So, you let her hurry in. You’ll just ensure that a doctor here can look over her own injuries once she’s been reunited with JJ.

“Schemmenti,” the redhead wheezes out once she’s finally made it to the front desk. “Here for- here for my son. Joseph Junior- JJ. Please. Please tell me he’s-”

“Room 123,” the receptionist at the front desk couldn’t look less bored. You suppose she’s probably numb to all of the people who come running in shouting a name at her. Although, you would think that a woman stumbling in the way that your… your neighbor, you remind yourself- you aren’t anything just yet- would get someone’s attention.

You have to pull yourself from your thoughts because the teacher is pulling you along quickly in order to get to her son. You can’t blame her. If you were in her position, you would be doing the exact same thing.

The room is right in front of you, and yet you can’t quite find it in you to go in. You’re terrified of the state that JJ might be in. Melissa goes in first, and when you hear the little boy squeal happily, you know it’s safe to go in.

The mother has already perched herself on the bed and has her little boy in her arms despite the amount of pain she has to be in at the moment. It doesn’t matter- she has her son back. That sweet little boy, who now has him arm in a sling.

You watch the two of them, a soft hazy feeling warming your soul. Melissa is kissing all over his face, JJ is happily giggling now that the two of them are together again. But then the little boy’s green eyes that look so much like his mother’s land on you.

“Y/N!” the little boy that you’ve missed so much grins in your direction. He makes what you can only describe as ‘grabby hands’ for you. “You came!”

“Of course I came, bud,” you limp your way over and press a kiss to his head. “Of course I came.”

“Momma telled me you were with her, but I didn’t think you really were!” he exclaims.

“Of course I came to see you,” you tell him again. He all but launches himself at you. You catch him with ease.

“I didn’t want to go with Daddy,” JJ whispers into the crook of your neck. “I wanted to stay with you and Momma.”

“I know,” you mumble into his hair. “I know, bud. But we’re here now, and your daddy isn’t going to get to take you again.”

“Jerry and Bev finded me,” the little boy tells you. “They were nice, and they telled me that we would come here and see you guys again.”

Only then do you glance over at the older couple sitting in the seats next to the bed. Melissa too, looks over to them. Her eyes immediately fill with tears. 

“Thank you,” you smile at them genuinely and thank them for all three of you. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Beverly returns the smile. “He’s a sweet little thing, and we were just doing what any good samaritans would do.”

You give them a sad smile next. “I suppose the two of you wouldn’t be willing to testify, would you?”

“If it means getting justice for the little man?” Jerry cuts in. “Of course we would.”

JJ starts to yawn against you, and you pass him off to Melissa gently.

She kisses the top of his head as she holds him as close as her injuries will allow her to. “Get some sleep, sweet boy.”

It takes hours for you to get JJ released, and in that time, there are quite a few doctors that make their way in and out of the room. Police officers also come in and question all of you. And thankfully, you’re able to get the medical staff to look over a somewhat reluctant Melissa. In that time, you’re able to speak with the older couple about how everything will pan out and how they can help. You’re thrilled to hear that they’re willing to travel down to Philadelphia in order to help put Joe behind bars for good. 

Finally… finally, you’re able to get the two Schemmentis back into the car and are heading for home. JJ is sound asleep in the back, Melissa is clutching her pillow to her chest with one hand and has the other lazily wrapped around your own as you drive back into the city.

“I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest,” the redhead sighs softly as you get onto the turnpike towards Philadelphia.

“I know,” you sigh softly as you run your thumb over her knuckles soothingly. “And I will be fighting with every fiber of my being to make sure that he is put away for a long time. I promise.” In a rather daring move, you bring her hand up to your lips and kiss it gently.

“I know you will,” the redhead smiles at you softly. Then she starts to suppress a cough.

You give her a look. “Don’t hold it in,” you tell her. “The doctor said that you should let it out.”

“I just don’t want to wake JJ,” Melissa says softly as she continues to fight the urge to cough.

You turn back in your seat to begin merging, and you’re able to steal a quick glance at the little four year old in the backseat. He’s out cold, clutching the stuffed animal that Beverly and Jerry gifted him to help him feel more safe.

“He’s dead asleep, Mel,” you tell her. “Cough, and hold the pillow to absorb the blow.”

She cranes her neck as best she can, and finally sighs before allowing herself to cough harshly. You let go of her hand in order to rub her back soothingly. You absolutely hate seeing her in as much pain as she’s in. You wish that you could switch places with her- you would do it in a heartbeat if it meant that she was safe and healthy.

Exhausted, she falls back into the seat with a shaky sigh and a mumbled out curse in Italian. You just reach for her hand again and thumb her knuckles softly, hoping to give her any sense of peace and warmth that you can.

By the time you get back to the apartment complex, it’s almost dark. The teacher is asleep in the seat next to you, and JJ is still clutching onto the stuffed animal with his head hanging down as he naps. With a sigh, you get out of the car and pull the sweet little boy into your arms. Once you have him situated on your hip, you open the passenger side door and gently shake Melissa.

“Hun,” you say softly. “I could get JJ out of the car, but I don’t think I can carry the both of you.”

She jolts awake, a look of fear in her eyes. Once her eyes focus again, she realizes that it’s just you, and you can see her visibly relax. “We’re home?”

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly as you readjust the little boy in your arms. “Come on. Let’s get you and JJ upstairs and comfortable.”

It’s a slow but steady journey as you get the two Schemmentis back into their apartment. You lay the little boy down on the couch and pull the blanket over him before glancing over at Melissa.

“Do you want me to stay, or do you want some time alone with your son?” you ask softly, and you truly don’t mind which she picks.

“Stay?” the redhead requests quietly as she settles down next to JJ. “I- I like having you here.”

“I like being here,” you chuckle softly as you brush a few hairs away from her face. In a daring move, you press your lips to hers. “I’ll start on dinner. You two, just… relax.”

She goes to protest, but the fire in her ribs stops her. She gently falls back into the couch cushion. “Thank you.”

You only cook for about twenty minutes before you plate everything and go to take it into the living room. You expect the redhead to perk up immediately, but instead she’s dozing on the couch right alongside her son.

You can’t help but smile softly as you watch the two of them and realize how lucky you are to be here- with her, with him. Just lucky. There is definitely a long road ahead of you in terms of whatever may happen in the future with Melissa, but you’re certain it’s going to be worth it. It’s all going to be okay.

And you found yourself in this domestic little life all because you found yourself enthralled with your new neighbor. 

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[starfxkr]

going on a night drive with trailer park!jj bc you guys can’t sleep and end up getting fucked in the ass hanging out of his old rusty truck on some dark and abandoned dirt road

₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧

a late night snack run turned into a late night drive, as you and jj both knew you weren't sleeping anytime soon. there was just something in the summer air that had you both riled up--the cicadas buzzed loudly and the sugary sweet taste of cream soda had you wired.

so jj took you on a ride--driving you down some long forgotten dirt road where the only light came from is truck's headlights and even those were dimmed.

the two of you were stalled, soft rock humming over the speakers with the windows down as he had lit a joint for you, one hand rubbing your thigh and scooping it into his lap as you finally relaxed, "we're gonna get fireflies in the truck."

jj shrugged, taking a drag before bringing you in closer so he could push the smoke into your lungs, "don't bother me none." he knew what he was doing, and clearly his plan worked because before long you were hazy and whining, and he could feel the damp patch growing on your panties, "i think you've had enough of this."

he stubbed the joint out, capturing your lips again but this time to give you a slow, lingering kiss that had you practically purring in your chest.

"i wanna take these off, get them off me now." if you weren't so high you'd be frantic, but instead you were a mess of limbs as he seemed to take your panties off at an infuriatingly slow pace, kissing down your neck all the while. you barely notice he's opened the car door and slid you across the seat so your lower half was hanging out.

"you're just so fuckin pretty sweet pea, i need a taste." that's all the warning you get before he dives in, pressing a kiss right to your puffy lips just to feel you shake. he takes his time, running his tongue between the seam of your lips until you bloom open for him like a flower--dewy and soft and he groans at the fresh flood of arousal on his tongue.

you let yourself get lost in it, as he sucks and licks your pearl into his mouth until you're shaking, his fingers coming up to press into your clenching pussy. jj was like a man starved when he practically growled into your cunt, lips smacking and he pushed your thighs up to your chest to lap at your puckered asshole until you pushed him, "enough, enough i need you to fuck me, please fuck me-"

he wasn't listening, this time wrapping his lips back around your clit so he could prod at your ass, doing his best to open you up with his fingers.

"relax for me, let me in i know you want me to fuck you there, so let papa in."

panting, you do, letting your body become slack so he can slide his wet fingers in, even when pulls back to spit on your tight ass you barely flinch. jj helps you along by rubbing your clit with his opposite thumb in soft, gentle stroke, so you're whimpering and lax beneath him.

"shiiit, there you go sweet pea, i'ma make you cum, then i'ma fuck this cute ass right out here." with a squeal you feel yourself throb, and he watches, entranced as more of your cream trickles down to his thrusting fingers, "how you want it? on your back or from behind?"

"b-behind..." you shudder when he sucks you back into his mouth, legs shaking as he fucks you faster, squeezing a third thick finger in your ass until your cumming with a high pitched moan, bucking your hips as he pulls away and gently eases his fingers from you, spreading your cheeks to get a good look at your slightly gaped hole.

"i'ma fit just fine this go around...alright pretty baby, i want that ass up."

weakly you nod, body still thrumming from your orgasm and jj helps, cooing at you as he places the throbbing head of his cock against your cunt, dipping in for a few quick thrusts that make you moan ridiculously loud before resting at your ass, "please papa fuck my ass, i can't take it anymore!"

"shhh, relax, don't want it to hurt now." jj spits on the head of his cock one last time before pushing in, and the noises you two make are pornographic.

thank god there's no one around.

while he's not rushing, he's not gentle on first breech--pulling back half way before slamming his hips against your ass and you groan, "toomuchtoomuch, god i need to cum please make me cum pleasepleaseplease-"

you were babbling now, completely un-self conscious about how jj had you hanging ass out of the truck like a whore, with your nightgown flipped up and your panties around your ankles as he was ramming his thick cock into your ass while your pussy dripped pitifully onto the side steps.

"you're a greedy little girl sweet pea, just made you cum in my mouth and you're still begging for--fuck--more. i'ma fuckin give it to you though, cause you're mine."

jj reaches under you to smack your clit, knowing you feel how swollen and sensitive it is under his sharp hits but you moan all the same, squealing when he rubs you harsh and fast until your body completely slumps from the onslaught--unable to do anything more than tremble and take it, "oh fuck, oh fuck m'gonna c-oh my god i'm cumming, papa i'm cumming please!"

with a sharp intake of breath you let go, your little feet kicking wildly as you squirt all over the side of the truck, completely drenching the ground--both interior and exterior--while your ass chokes him off at the base, and he collapses on top of you, hips rutting as he cums in rough hot spurts that knock the air out of his chest before he groans loudly in your ear.

"ho-holyyy fuck, goddamn, you gotta let me go, cmon sweet pea let your papa, go calm down."

you're half conscious but you manage to do what he says, body relaxing and he slides out, slumping against the open door while his heart beats out his chest.

really you were a vision he couldn't have crafted in his wildest wet dreams--your pussy and thighs were drenched, your asshole gaped open and dripping his cum onto the floor below. but best of all was your face--eyes clumped with tears and your plump lips wet and open. you looked content and most of all you looked sleepy.

jj got himself together, his knees creaking slightly as he came back over to you, seeing you finally fast asleep.

he cleaned you up with a spare shirt from the back, gently kissing your thigh when he righted your clothes and getting back in the car, laying you in his lap before he drove off.

[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Will you come when I call? (will you answer when I beg?)

damn your love, damn your lies - series masterlist here

pairing: roy harper x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: ex bf roy harper but they're in looove, it's kinda unspoken that they're getting back together, vague references to bad things that can happen when you're out alone at night, roy's protective best friend jason todd

a/n: wowie it's getting happier folks. also hello how are we I feel like I'm coming out of hibernation

In your defence, the infamous Red Hood lives up to his reputation enough to assure you that you made the right choice in calling him instead of Arsenal. It had been an awful phone call to make, of course - saying that you were walking home late at night you were sure something bad was going to happen. But as bad as it had been to ask for help like that, at least you knew Red Hood would come. Arsenal? That, you weren't so sure of.

Per Hood's instructions, you stand on the sidewalk under the street light, shifting foot to foot and trying not to look back at the unconscious body he'd left in the darkness there. Wait here, he'd said. I'm sure… a friend will be here to pick you up soon. Looking up at the murky night sky, the stillness that the stars can't seem to shine through, you beg whatever's out there that he isn't sending Roy.

It's hard to imagine it, the Jason you'd grown to know as Roy's best friend, the boy who smiled and helped you bring your groceries in and always tried to convince you to let him do the dishes whenever he was over for dinner with the two of you. You'd never seen Roy out and about as Arsenal, but you'd imagined it, of course - how could you not? Glancing back into the din of the alleyway, you suddenly find yourself glad that you'd always remained somewhat unaware. Then, with a stuttering step back, you wonder if you'd ever really known Roy at all. How could you, when you only had half of him to love?

It feels an awful lot like guilt, the feeling rising in your throat. Maybe you understand what he meant when he said you were never really all there, you never really let him in.

Fortunately, the revving of Jason's car is unmistakable, a sound that pulls you from whatever spiral you were heading down as he pulls up beside you, getting out of the car with a scowl on his face just so that he can stomp over and open your door for you. The say he slams it shut once you're in the car is the confirmation you need that you're in for a lecture tonight.

"What were you thinking?" Sure enough, as soon as Jason is in the driver's seat, he's taking off, speeding down the silent streets as he questions you.

"Was the costume change really necessary?" You reply, eyeing his civilian clothes. He shoots you a look.

"Couldn't exactly pick you up on the bike, could I? Hood saving a civilian in distress - sure. Telling you to hop on and giving you a ride home? That'd raise some questions." He sighs. You cross your arms and look out your window.

"I wasn't in distress," you mumble. Jason looks at you like he's never heard you say anything as stupidly petulant as that. You're not sure why - you know you've said worse.

"Why did you call me and not Roy?" He asks finally, his thumb tapping against the steering wheel as he bites his tongue, as he wills himself not to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you.

"Oh please, like he would answer," you scoff. And there's that look again, like you've said something unimaginable and Jason's trying to figure out if he's having some kind of waking nightmare. 

"I didn't realize you think that lowly of him," he says bitterly. You straighten, looking out the front windshield.

"I don't-"

"You do. You do if you think there'd ever be a day when you'd call and he wouldn't answer," Jason says firmly. You shift in your seat. 

"It's not his job to come running every time I need saving anymore," you point out sullenly. Jason barks out a laugh. You have a feeling he doesn't really find it funny.

"You didn't let him do that even when it was his job," he says. You scowl at him.

"I appreciate you doing this tonight, Jason, but I'd love to do it without the commentary."

"That's a shame. I wouldn't," he shrugs, pulling up outside your apartment building. You sigh and rub your temples.

"Don't mention this to him, alright?" You ask.

"You're joking."

"I'm really not," you say dryly. Jason fixes you with a glare. 

"Get inside safely," is all he says, and you're smart enough to know when you've hit a wall. Sighing again, mostly for show (and feeling vindicated when you see Jason's lips twitch into something that almost resembles a smile), you head inside. If you see Jason bring his phone to his ear to call someone, you pretend you don't. It might be easier that way.

Or, as it usually is, it may be a lot more difficult. By the time you're inside, tossing your phone and keys onto the side table and rubbing the back of your neck in a vain attempt to rid yourself of the tension there, there's a figure ripping your balcony door open and tumbling through into your living room.

You'd scream, surely, if you'd had even a moment to think before Arsenal is all over you, crowding you against the wall of your home with his hands cupping your face, going on about how worried he was when Jason called him.

"Roy-" you start.

"Are you ok, baby? Are you alright? He got to you in time, right? Nothing happened - I, god, please tell me nothing happened, - are you hurt, baby? Are-"

"Roy," you say again, putting your hands over his where they still cup your cheeks protectively. His mouth snaps shut, sure, but his eyes flit over your figure, again and again and again, as if to find some sort of damage that he missed the first dozen times. You stare at him, at the wild look behind his mask and the red leather that covers his chest and stretches across his thighs.

"You… look good," you say simply. He blinks, staring at you.

"What?"

"I've never seen you like this before. You look good," you clarify. It's Roy, you know - the man you lived with, shared you bed and your life with for so long. But somehow, the masked figure in front of you feels more like a stranger than you could've anticipated. Maybe knowing Roy but not Arsenal really was a mistake - maybe you really did only ever have half of him.

Arsenal sighs, pulling away from you and stepping back to sit on the arm of your couch, taking his cap off to run a hand through his hair and stare at you. 

"Why didn't you call me?" He asks.

"I didn't know you'd answer." With the way he flinches at that, you suddenly wish you'd lied. Not that he wouldn't have realized. His shoulders drop, his head hanging low as he stands and makes his way back towards your balcony.

"Roy, I -" you start, the words catching in your throat. "I'm sorry." That's enough to make him freeze.

"What?"

"I was wrong."

"What?"

"Oh, fuck off," you scoff, but he doesn't miss the lack of bite in your voice. "It… probably should've been you I called tonight."

"Why didn't you?" He asks again. You think about snapping at him, about saying that you just told him and surely he can't be that stupid and-

"I don't care as much about what Jason thinks of me," is what you say instead. You're not sure who's more surprised. Arsenal steps towards you, settling back down onto the arm of the couch and reaching a hand out to you as if you'll still come when he calls. When you walk forward, standing between his parted legs and letting his hand curl around your waist, you're not sure how it all happened. 

"What do you mean, sunshine?" He coaxes. You grab onto his shoulders with just a bit too much force, as if that anchor will stop you from baring your soul to him the way you should've so long ago.

"I care about what you think of me," you say simply. "I care that you think I can take care of myself… and do this on my own."

"But you don't have to, baby," he says it so softly, gentle in a way that feels new coming from him.

"Well," you clear your throat, stepping away from him and smoothing down your shirt. "I do now, anyway." He doesn't take the bait, doesn't comment on the fact that he left you, decided he couldn't put up with this anymore and walked out. 

"You know I'll always come when you call," is what he says instead.

"I don't think you should have to," you reply. 

"I don't mind," he says, like it's that simple. Like loving and being loved is as easy as the way he sits there, open and waiting for you.

"I don't… think I want to be alone tonight," you say slowly, carefully, like you're teetering on some sort of ledge. Roy smiles, tilting his head a bit as he looks at you.

"I'll stay the night -"

"I want you to sleep on the couch," you say abruptly. He laughs. 

"I can do that sunshine. As many nights as you want."

"You'll get a bad back," you say, and there's a thickness in your voice, a dampness in your eyes that has you clenching your fists at your sides. "Your neck will hurt in the morning."

"I don't mind," Roy says again, like loving you is easy. You scoff and roll your eyes, but it's a small display amidst the haze of vulnerability that's blanketing the two of you.

Stepping forward, you reach slowly to his face, fingers beginning to peel off his mask.  He lets you - and you kick yourself for being so surprised. Of course he would, always so ready to bare the layers of his soul to you. As you smooth a thumb over his now-exposed cheekbone, you wonder what other layers of his there are that he loves you enough to let you peel back. You wonder, in a way that should concern you, how many of your own layers are fraying and thinning underneath his love.

[kdecays]

Can I sleep in here

Summary: Chris is known to go into his brothers rooms to sleep with them in the middle of the night. One night Nick is at Maddie's house but you decided to sleep over and went to Nicks bed. Chris comes into Nicks room. What happens?

Warmings: making out, fingering, p in v, oral female and male receiving

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"Guys I'ma go to bed I'm too tired." I tell Chris and Matt while waving. Nick is at Maddie's tonight so he said I could sleep in his room. "Okay goodnight y/n!" "Goodnight" They both tell me as I head to Nicks empty bedroom.

As I open the bedroom door I am greeted by teddy bears and an unmade bed. Nick never really tidied up his room but when I come over I like to fix it so that way he won't worry about it. He just promises me free Mc Donald's till then.

I change into an old pair of pajamas shorts when I realize I don't have a shirt. I groan as I walk out the room to ask Chris for a shirt. "Hey Chris!" I yell while walking down the hall. "Do you have a shirt I can wear?" As I finish my sentence he is right at his doorframe to greet me with a smile. "Yeah come in I got one." I smile and walk in.

I've always had a small crush on Chris. He's always been so goofy and always makes car rides so fun. He has always treated me so well. When were our for dinner or whatever he will make sure I'm staying warm and overall being a gentleman.

"Here, it's a lyrical lemonade one. Or did u want like a hoodie." He asks holding up the shirt to his chest. "No this is fine. It's one of my favorite on you." I say while grabbing the shirt. I notice him staring at me while I pull it over my tank top. "Keep it, it looks good on you." He tells me with a smirk. I turn to look at him and walk up and give him a hug goodnight.

As I'm walking to Nicks room I start thinking about my feelings towards Chris. He genuinely is so funny and goofy towards me. He makes me feel like I can go to him for anything.

I arrive to nicks bedroom and jump in bed and just go on my phone for a little bit. Scrolling on insta for a little bit after a long day. Suddenly I hear three quick knocks on my door. "Come in!" I yell through the door. The door opens and I see Chris standing in the door frame smiling.

"don't look at me like that ur scary." I say jokingly. Chris lets out a giggle before opening his mouth. "Can I sleep in here?" Chris asks while closing the door behind him. It's like he knew I would say yes. "Yeah of course. Did Matt say no to sleeping with him?"I ask. "Something like that." He says suspiciously.

He crawls into my bed next to me. Getting comfy under the covers and turning on his side to look at me. "Hi" he says smiling. "Hi" I say staring into his eyes that are being lit up by the light from the tv. "Did you wanna watch something?" I ask looking at his lips. "Yeah sure." I put Netflix on and just turn of the latest thing I was watching. 'outerbanks' comes on.

"can I tell you something?" He asks me. I nod my head yes. "Can I kiss you?" I look at him with shocked eyes. I take in what he says and once it processes in my mind I immediately push my lips into his. With every movement he felt like he was made for me.

He puts his hand on my waist to pull me in closer. My hips slowly grind into him. I feel both his hand find their way to each side of my body. I find myself on top of his crotch and continue grinding on him.

He breaks the kiss to sit himself up on the bed and proceeds to move out lips together. He start touching my tits over my shirt. I have no bra on and he is caressing my nipples. I break the kiss to take off my shirt and so does he. "Fuck your tits are so hot" he says biting his lip out of breath. I giggle and take of my panties as he pull down his shirt enough for his dick to meet me.

"lay on your back" he demands. I do as he says as he starts kissing down my neck starting from my chin. His mouth meets my nipples and starts sucking on them. "Mm" I let out a pleasing moan. He looks up at me while he continues to move down my body slower and slower.

His face finally reaches my heat. I can feel his fingers begin to move in a circular motion on my clit. I let out a moan and he keeps going but with each motion he gets quicker. "Fuck Chris." I moan his name. He substitutes his fingers for his tongue swirling and sucking on my clit. The stimulation send me spiraling into pleasure. "Chris- fuck I'm gonna cum" I moan. I arch my back in pleasure as it pushes his face into my hips.

i feel the familiar feeling coursing through my body. He feels my warm liquid spill out of me. "Fuck you taste so good." He says as he lifts his face up from my crotch.

He kisses me and I can taste my juices all over his mouth. "Ur so hot when you moan my name" he says unbuckling his pants.

I flip over on my stomach and go on all fours. He pulls my ass up high enough to reach him. I look back towards him watching him stick in his dick. "Fuck your tight." He groans.

He starts thrusting into me slowly at a moderate pace. "Go faster" I whisper. He does as I ask. With every thrust he hits the spot each time. I tease him and clench around him every couple second. "I swear if you do that again- fuck I'm gonna cum." I giggle and clench once more but this time I help him move my body back and forth faster and harder.

"Chris I'm gonna cum" I moan loudly. He grips my hair and lifts my body up. My back is now touching his chest and he is going faster and faster. I'm a moaning mess. "Oh fuck" he groans. I can feel him twitch inside me. He slows down his thrust and I continue to help him. I feel his warm liquid shoot into me.

I turn my head around to look at give him one last kiss before plopping down on the bed. He lays down next to me. "Do you think Matt heard us." I ask nervously. Chris checks his phone and it's a message from Matt.

Matt💙

Be quiet.

12:34 AM

Read

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Authors note: hi I'm ovulating.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Motorcycle accident

Summary : Requested by @a-lil-bit-nuts : could i request reader getting into a motorcycle accident and sam and dean freaking out when she calls them crying because her leg got banged up and she's in pain.

Warnings : road accident, mentions of blood and a little panic attack

A/N : 💀 this has also been in my drafts since day one so i literally had to force myself to post or else it wouldn't be posted-ever ahahahaha

---

It is said that riding a motorcycle is like flying. When you're at high speed, the scenery gets blurry and all you can think of is staying alive, somehow bringing serenity into your being, peace of mind, a bit of quiet.

You could not relate to that at the moment, as you found yourself sliding along with the bike all the way the sidewalk, the edge of the latter forcing the bike and your own body to a stop.

Cold and adrenaline rush through your body....it's....so cold-your back....cold and-you just-you- accident...

Phone.

You tug into your pocket and through the shaking hands dial Sam's number. Dean never answers. Sam answers instantly.

"Hey honey." His tone is sweet and confident.

"Sammy i-i-my leg is-i got into-i-" You stutter, waiting for a response but instead all you get is lots of noise, indicating swift moves. "Sammy?"

"I'm coming to you, honey. I'm coming. We're on our w-"

On Sam's side, papers suddenly fly at the speed of his mouvement.

"DEAN" He growls, heading straight for his brother's room. "DEAN" He doesn't bother to knock, too tense to think- "She-Sh-she's been in an accident."

The realization hits Dean like thunder and his whole face contorts before he jumps off the bed. "What-no-where is she?"

The older brother asks, his hands frantically searching for the keys. His swift motions doing him no good, only freaking him out furthur.

"DEAN!" Sam snaps him out of his thoughts and Dean notices the keys in his brother's hands.

As they both head for the door, Sam dials his sister's number. "Come on, baby. Pick up." He pleads...whoever. And when a puff emits from his lips, Dean understands that the ringing died.

"Try it again." The latter orders, a faint hint of hope in his voice. He couldn't tell though, if it was hope or desperation. His little sister not answering instantly means that something bad has happened. That's always been the case with Dean. Ever since he got her a phone. "Always have it by your side, i can't call you and have you not answer." A phrase she's heard and fought about a million times.

And just when his fist hits the steering wheel, her little voice comes over Sam's phone. It's faint, causing Dean to snatch the phone from his brother's hand.

"Kid, where are you-are you okay" The oldest of the family swallows the knot in his stomach, directly asking the question to avoid shuddering in front of his younger siblings.

"Deeeean" Your voice follows the evident heaving of your chest. "It h-h-urts so much. Please-I don't want to be here alone-i'm-it hurts so badly." You freely sob and Dean holds his breath in, swallowing the ache penetrating through his heart. His baby is in so much pain and he-

"Dean!" Dean swiftly turns his head to the side, eyeing the wide eyed Sam sitting beside him. "Drive, man! We have to get to her."

the hunter starts the car, handing the phone to his brother. "Put in on speaker." He orders his younger brother, heading to nowhere still.

"Honey, where are you-we're coming to get you-we're on our way-just tell us where you are"

Both men grimace at the noise around her, the blabbbering and the-

"I'm so scared. Please hurry-i'm only a couple of minutes away-it's right next to the gas station we always go to-"

"I see her!" Enthousism breaks Sam's voice when he spots a crowd and a bike, his heart sinking at the thought of what's hiding behind. "Honey we're here-Don't hang up"

-----

You didn't know which was more painful, the actual burning in your leg or the suffocating feeling caused by the crowd envelopping every inch of your space. You internally thank the tingling wetness in your eyes because it caused enough blurriness that people turned into faceless figures.

As a guy hoists you up. And consequently the road ahead starts to emerge and two familiar figures appear to be running towards you. You blink your tears away-they're here!

They're finally here.

-----

Lil nuts, i hope this isn't too dramatic and i hope this is what freaking out is to you. Kisses to you and thank you again for the request! ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[blackoutspoetry]

Ghoap on the ride out from Las Almas

this follows from a post I made in February you can find here: https://www.tumblr.com/blackoutspoetry/742235462268239872?source=share

I apologize if I've posted this before but I found it in my drafts and wasn't sure if I shared it earlier

background: Ghost has been actively trying to avoid talking about the kiss for weeks but its been complicated after they shipped out to Las Almas, especially more complicated after Grave's betrayal and the Alone Mission, where Ghost had to tap into their mutual feelings to keep Soap alive and talking. Now in the wake of all that, Soap is tired of Ghost being distant. if you enjoy reading this, please consider checking out the first few chapter of this fic posted on ao3 :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53226112/chapters/134687209

Rain forked across the window in dramatic, twisting rivulets, disturbed periodically by the swaying of the wipers at full speed. The scrape against the window punctuated the stillness of the road, absolute absence of shouting voices, blood and gunfire from all directions. The back window is busted with a neat bullet hole punching just off from the middle and the rain drips a trickle onto the faux leather of the back seat, now also covered in a dusting of reinforced glass. The car now feels more like poorly insulated shack on wheels, but a getaway vehicle is a getaway vehicle. Soap will take anything he can get. 

Soap's teeth are gritted and he can see out of the corner of his eye that Ghost’s hands are clenched around the steering wheel like he’s trying to strangle the cold metal. He keeps glancing back in the rear view mirror at the empty stretch of road behind them. Thankfully, there’s always nothing. But even Soap doesn’t trust his own eyes with the emptiness of the road and he checks the mirror on his door too, just to make sure there wasn’t some asshole with his headlights off tailing them. 

They’re a while out of the centre of town now, but they’ve not passed the threshold of Las Almas just yet. There’s still room for someone to corner them. 

Anything that Graves can dream up now with access to the resources at Alejandro’s base and his own aircraft could render them useless in this tin can. So it went without saying that they needed to get out of the open quickly, but they could not return to Las Almas behind them. 

Soap shifts in his seat to lean his head against the cold window, groaning as his injured arm snags on the seatbelt. 

At the noise, Ghost glances sideways at him. “You alright?” 

“Took a bullet to the arm. The bleeding’s alright now.” 

“When?” 

“Graves took a shot at me before we split. Wasn’t head on and it was rather okay until I took that tumble down the slope. The dirt and grass scratched it up worse.” 

“We need to get that cleaned up,” Ghost says with a worried tone. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Soap shakes his head. “We can take a look at it when we find a place to regroup. Should be a place that Graves doesn’t know about.” 

“I’ve already got that covered, Soap,” Ghost says as they’re coming up on the sign marking the border into Las Almas, now with the open road ahead of them. 

There should now still be a few hours left before sunrise, but throught the drifting clouds, the moonlight pearls on the rain-wet surroundings and renders the world around them in tones of blue and white. It catches every minor divot in the road and the brush growing along side the road, catching on the barbed wire fences sectioning off the farmland on either side and stretching off in parallel lines converging on a distant horizon. 

Briefly, a disturbing vision comes to Soap’s mind as he remembers where he is. He can tell just by how tense Ghost is beside him, that he feels it too. 

“Does it bother you? Being back in Mexico.” 

“We’re in Las Almas, Johnny. Its not quite the same area.” 

“It’s still Mexico.” 

The windshield wipers swiped twice across his line of sight before he added onto the question, trying to prompt Simon into saying something. He can’t take this atmosphere anymore. They’ve barely spoken a word outside of work for the last few months after the engagement party and its starting to grate on his nerves. For a moment there, over comms, the banter, the connection, he caught a fleeting moment of what their relationship had been like up until that day and he misses it. 

His patience is thin, he can’t take it anymore. 

“Won’t you just fucking talk to me.” 

“I am talking to you…” Ghost says, feigning ignorance, but he knows exactly what Soap means by it.

Ahead of them, there’s a fork in the road and Ghost takes a left onto a much less maintained gravel track. 

“Oh cut the shit. you know what I mean. You’ve been avoiding me since that night and I have barely been able to get a word out of you for the past few weeks. You’ve avoided me the entire time we’ve been here and tonight, when I was inches away from losing my life, you decide to start talking to me again. So either, you only care about me as long as you can keep me at arm’s length and use me whenever you decide you’re ready, or I’m starting to think you’ve never cared about me at all.” 

Ghost bristles beside him. “That’s a wild fucking statement to make, Soap. Given that I risked my ass to get you to safety and all I’ve ever done is make sure you don’t fall down the same trap I did when I was too stupid to realise the people I trust were using me. I’m trying to keep you alive.” 

“Its your job. That doesn’t mean you care about me…” he says after a moment, softer, slow. Like he’s trying to understand the gravity of each of those words. The word ‘love’ is right there, but he can’t say it. Neither of them will be able to salvage this thing if he says that right now.  

“You actually think I don’t care about you?” Ghost asks incredulously and Soap feels like he’s actually overstepped a line, but its too late to take it back now. He needs to stand with what he said, even if he regrets it.

He avoids eye contact, choosing to focus on some approaching lone standing tree in the distance. 

“I mean, sort of. You haven’t really given me any reason to think otherwise.” 

Soap curses as the car lurches to a sudden halt with Ghost slamming his foot on the brakes, hard. Even through the mask, Soap can feel Ghost’s eyes burning him, but he refuses to look. 

“I care so much it scares me. Every day I wake up and I think about you. I think about you dying and there’s nothing I can do to save you. Everyone I’ve ever cared about, anyone I’ve ever loved, died because of me. My mother overdosed on drugs while I was away and I couldn’t save her. My brother and his wife and kid got killed because my past came back to haunt me when I escaped the hell I went through in Mexico. I just don't want to be the reason you die."

[norlestappen]

Idea/Request/Me begging you

Tall!Model!Reader X Yuki Tsunoda. With reader being significantly taller than him (like 5'9) and just generally being a goddess.

And she's on the paddock being the biggest Yuki defender of all time and supporting him in whatever he does while being all cutesy about him. Like small man with anger issues and tall woman yelling "Go get 'em sweetie" in the background.

Please and thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Hello my bestie, here is your long awaited story, i decided to only put a bit in, maybe a part 2 if wanted "Yukinoooo, I am hungryy" / Yuki Tsunoda x tall!y/n

summary: you are joining your boyfriend Yuki in the paddock and you are just too much of a hot couple than anyone can ever handle Pairing: Yuki x y/n

warnings: too much cuteness, sadly no smut yet

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/n POV:

You would never get used to the fact your boyfriend was literally perfection. From his beautiful eyes to the way his Japanese would make you weak, just everything about him made you want to always kiss him, never letting him go. That was, of course, not always possible since you wouldn’t fit into the cockpit with him, you did on the other hand fit perfectly on his cock though. 

He would push you onto him, making you ride him until you were out of energy, just needing you as close as possible for as long as he could. He needed you so much, it might sound unhealthy to others, but for you two it just worked. 

Pierre made it his mission the entire flight to call you two out as you argued over what you would wear to the paddock. While Yuki liked showing you off to others, he hated it when people saw how hot you looked, so he would always stand in front of you protectively. The funniest thing in that aspect is that Yuki could barely cover your breasts with his head since the height difference was just a bit too much than usual. 

Luckily, all four of you landed a few days prior to the race in Miami, which gave you time to recover from the adaption to new time zones. The first two days were always the hardest for you. As soon as you entered the hotel room with Yuki, he just made you lay in bed, not caring about your baggage at this given moment. He just needed to hold you, making sure you were right by his side.

So, this is what you did the following days, just laying in bed, taking walks together by holding hands, always stopping to kiss while you were photographed for most parts of it. So, when you wake up in the early morning of Friday, you know the hard part is coming up. Being a good WAG, looking the prettiest you can, supporting your boyfriend, possibly fighting the team principle again. 

You always hated getting a cab to the racetrack, so you made Yuki drive like a maniac through Miami’s streets and while most would be terrified of his aggressive driving style, you just loved those wild car rides with your boyfriend. Sharing sweet and small kisses whenever you encountered red traffic lights. Nevertheless, one of his hands always to touch your thighs, squeezing you softly to reassure himself that you were there. 

“Babe, why can’t I just quitttt? I want to lay in bed with you all day and just cuddle, making you feel good and have breakfast, lunch, and dinner on our bed” Yuki pouted as he was parking the car directly at the entrance of the paddock. “Well, one of us needs to drive fast cars and it won’t be me because my neck game is by far not as strong as yours” You smirk at Yuki as he almost jumps at you kissing him.

Soon you had to leave the car, journalists tried crowding you as you met up with Michael, his personal trainer. You always felt like a queen going through the paddock, Yuki loved seeing you in heels, making your height even more prominent than it already was. It was one thing that Yuki has always loved about you, your height.

As soon as you got into the motorhome, Yuki basically dragged you along to his driver’s room, claiming to have some privacy with you. Not like you didn’t do that already for the past days, but who would complain to being alone with a Yuki Tsunoda in a small room? Definitely not you, the one who was actively dating the hottest driver on the grid.

As you sat down on the small couch, Yuki made a call to get some food. “Yukinoooo, I am hungryyy and I want cuddles too” You looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes, knowing it works like a charm in your favor every time. “Shhh, I am trying to get us food asap but you need to be a bit patient” And that is the moment where Yuki spoke to someone in Italian for some reason while sitting down on your lap, legs on either side of you while smirking, knowing it always turns you on when he speaks different languages. You put your hands around his waist, looking intensively at him when he put his phone on the coffee table next to you. “Apparently we should have some food within the next 15 minutes, so lots of time to pass while we wait for some carbs” Both of you started giggling all of a sudden, just simply staring at each other, fully in love and awe. ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Plsss give me feedback on it, i just truly need some opinions on my writing, idk why i sometimes feel so insecure but i hope you all love it, especially the Yuki girliesss on here <3 <3 <3 <3

[honeyyhivee]

they don't have to know ⠀ྀི

⠀ྀི in which, you and satoru gojo can't let one another go no matter what ྀི

cw ྀི minors dni! black!fem reader in mind but read as you please, petnames (baby, princess), toxic relationships/toxic reader, explicit smut w/ a bit of plot, p in v, riding, dirty talk, semi public (in a car), overstimming, swearing

word count & thoughts ྀི 823, lowercase intended, my first post on here so be nice, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated

“i’m very much grown, thank you!“

“grown and fuckin’ married… or did you forget?” that man, your husband nagged on. being in a marriage with someone you had mixed feelings for wasn’t on your bucket list. especially with a man you once loved so much. dating and even the beginning of the marriage was so beautiful but, you both wanted different things and found that out after marriage. things changed once he did you wrong, you grew this need for revenge. after he’d badly messed things up with you with his infidelity, you ended up sleeping with an old friend of yours. a friend that he knew as well.

satoru gojo. while it was supposed to be a one time thing, you found yourself sneaking out to different cities just to see satoru. you knew, he was sneaking around too. you both figured each other out fairly quickly. despite trying to talk each other out of these bad situations, you guys always found some loopy way back towards each other.

“baby, i don’t know… it’s getting harder and harder for us to keep doing this. what if we did make things right? what if we leave and be together?” satoru started as they both sat in his car, in an empty parking lot near the countryside. “i don’t want to ruin what we have. labels and shit… you know, we might lose something… might make things more complicated.” your words made him tilt his head with confusion.

“complicated? like sneaking all the way here so that neither of us get caught isn’t complicated enough? one of these days they’ll have to know.”

you scoffed at his words, shaking your head with this grin on your face. “yeah, mr. i’ll tell her today. hey, did you tell your girl the last time we saw each other? when you said it was the last time?” the look on his face told you his answer, he couldn’t lie to you if he tried. “this is supposed to be our last time.” satoru muttered. “you serious? ‘toru, can i be honest with you?” he turned his head to you, giving you full eye contact.

“i don’t want to let you go… i can’t, baby… but i don’t want to hurt her.” he admitted, before you spoke. “shit… this is so stressful.” you huffed and laid your head back. “yeah…”

the two of you glanced at each other again, satoru ready for you to break things off, you ready for satoru to do the same.

instead, like always, you ended up in the back seat of his car. both sweaty as you tried your best to ride him without hitting your head on the ceiling of the car. the car windows had been rolled down a bit to let out the hot air and all that could be heard was your moans and his voice. his hands gripped at the flesh of your ass as he looked up at you.

“you’re so- so good f’me… fuck, princess…” his praise gave you more strength, bouncing on his hard length that always filled you up so deliciously. you squeezed around him so perfectly, it always takes everything in him to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head.

was that why you couldn’t let each other go? you satisfied one another in ways you’d never expect. his big hand slapped your ass roughly causing a louder moan to be ripped from you as you mindlessly fucked yourself on his cock.

your juices all over him and his seat when he had the chance, he gripped your waist, holding you down on him but moving your hips. following him, you began to grind your hips on him while he took one of your breasts in his mouth.

“god, ‘toru-” you tried keeping a steady pace but from all the riding, your body was shaky. with him sucking on your nipple, looking you in the eyes best he could while doing so, the stimulation brought you closer and closer to another climax. he felt you getting close, you were so close.

maybe the bliss was clouding his mind but he couldn’t just stop this with you, not when you always looked so pretty above and below him. the very look on your face brought him closer to his high. he wanted to talk to you more, get you there faster but when you uttered his name in his ear, he couldn’t help but hold your waist onto him so he could fuck you the way he needed.

whimpers began to leave your lips, the pleasure overtaking your body. this is why you both kept coming to each other. “fuckk, i love you, princess.” at this pace, it wasn’t long before he filled up the condom around him. after coming down from your climax, you laid your head against his trying to catch your breath.

“satoru… what did you say a moment ago?”

© honeyyhivee (2024) don't use or steal my work, thanks!

[writingsbyzuzu]

the alchemy!

chapter one

summary: an introduction to you, reader and your college life before the spring semester of your sophomore year starts.

warnings: mentions of sexual happenings, you have a single dad (your mom is not in the picture), there is no meeting of hasan yet, reader has been on bad dates.

Your dad pulls up to the dorm parking lot, as you stretch out your arms, sighing. He turns to you. “Ready kiddo?” You nod, and the two of you exit the car. He opens the back door, grabbing your suitcase from the backseat, and the two of you walk up to the dorm doors.

You swipe your student keycard to unlock the front door, and the two of you shuffle down the dorm hallway, your dad carrying your suitcase, and you carrying with one arm tupperwares full of food. “When’s Blaire coming back?” your dad asks, as he pushes the elevator button.

“She said her flight gets in on Sunday, so we can hang out for a week before class starts,” you explain, the two of you entering the elevator. Your dad nods, and the two of you stand in silence, riding up to the fourth floor.

You exit the elevator, bumping into your RA. She gives you a quick hello, as she hurries to get to the lobby. You wish her good luck with the new move-in's, and you finally arrive at your room. Your door looks different, as your RA had changed the name stickers to have different theming for you and Blaire. You smile, and your dad scans it over. “Door looks nice.” You nod, and unlock your door.

The two of you enter, and you start to put the food away in the fridge, while your dad sets your suitcase on the bed. “Do you need any additional groceries?” he asks, watching you put away the food. You shake your head. “I mean we left my car here so if I need anything, I can just drive to the store.” He nods once more, and the two of you sit in silence. Your dad wasn’t much of a talker, but he was always a loving dad, and he was all you had in terms of parents.

And he remembered your friends’ names and your roommate, which was more than what some other dads could do, you think. “Want to get lunch then?” You stand up, shutting the fridge door. “Sounds good, pop. Mr. Oliver’s?” “Let’s do it.”

Mr. Oliver’s was probably the one place in town your dad had tried on his visits to your college town that he actually enjoyed, and you would hardly disagree. The two of you ordered your usual lunches at the counter, and slid into the booth. Your dad checks his phone, and seeing some messages, texts back to who you would assume are his clients, probably asking some menial questions about something or other. Feeling a little left out, you checked your phone as well, seeing a few messages.

cinderella🩵👱🏻‍♀️: did you check back into our room already? there’s no bugs are there???

murphy hall funky bunch, markus 🐝: yo, who’s home yet? I want to play smash and I don’t want to do it by myself

murphy hall funky bunch, janet 🧚🏼‍♀️: play smash by yourself, you’re a big boy

murphy hall funky bunch, markus 🐝: damn it, janet. fuck you

murphy hall funky bunch, kieran garcia🌚: watch it bee boy, that’s my job

You snort at the messages, before deciding to answer Blaire’s first.

you: I’m back! no bugs 🥳 lfg!! looking forward to studying again in our clean ass space

cinderella🩵👱🏻‍♀️: please promise me you won’t spend this semester bunkered down in our room again!

You roll your eyes, swiping out to open up your group chat and respond to Markus, but Blaire sends more texts, so you click on it.

cinderella🩵👱🏻‍♀️: there’s more to life than studying you know! I know it means a lot to you, but college is full of parties you’re missing out on. and boys.

cinderella🩵👱🏻‍♀️: speaking of boys, I have someone I want you to meet!

You audibly groan, remembering the last time Blaire had someone she “wanted you to meet”, and your dad looks at you quizzically. You look up at him wearily. “Roommate troubles,” is all you manage to say, and your dad gives you a nod of understanding. “It’ll be okay, kiddo,” he says, before sliding out of the booth and heading to the bathroom, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You look back down at the messages before beginning to type.

you: absolutely not, you are never setting me up with anyone ever again. remember daniel? he had a literal sex bucket list and each task was for a different woman to sleep with. he was literally telling me about his exploits with fucking a middle school principal on her desk! in the middle of cane’s! no ma’am.

cinderella🩵👱🏻‍♀️: he was nice regardless!! and it was a one time error, I will never do you that dirty again 😭🤚🏼 and no worries! I’m not setting you up with anyone

cinderella🩵👱🏻‍♀️: I have a boyfriend!!!

you: WHAT??? roomie has a man??? and she didn’t tell me??? give me deets. ASAP

She doesn’t respond, so you open the group chat, shooting a message that you’d back and free to hang in an hour or so. As you put away your phone, the waitress comes out with your burgers, and sets your chili fries in front of you. You thank her, as your dad comes back and settles into the booth. “Everything settled with Blaire?” “Yeah, I just misunderstood her.”

He nods, before taking a bite of his cheeseburger. In between bites, the two of you discuss the upcoming semester, the various science classes you’re taking, and your favorite org that you’re participating in. When your dad drops you off an hour later, you give him a hug and say your goodbyes, before swiping yourself in. You see through the glass door on your left the living room, where Markus is sitting alone watching tv. You enter, and he looks over and grins, before crushing you in a hug.

“How was your Christmas?” he asks, before plopping himself back down on the couch. “Good! I got a few new switch games. Now we don’t have to play Smash every single night,” you joke. Markus rolls his eyes. “We’re always going to play smash. It’s our cult.”

“Who else is home?”

“Kieran is at Walmart right now, he took Janet with him. Ellis is upstairs unpacking his suitcase. When’s…uh when is Blaire coming back?” He avoids eye contact with you when asking the question. “Markus, I love you like a brother. I don’t want to crush your dreams, but Blaire got a boyfriend.” His eyebrows shot up.

“Who is it??” “No clue. But I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to get to know him considering how often her last boyfriend came over,” you groan. “I had to study at the library half the time when I wasn’t working at their front desk.”

Markus pats you awkwardly on the shoulder, his face showing upset, before pausing. He had liked Blaire for months. You felt bad for saying anything, but it had to be said. His face suddenly shifted to a smirk.

“Want to play smash?”

You laugh, before nodding.

The next few days blur, and after an excursion to the town square, your friends who were back all headed to their rooms to put away the leftovers from your lunch at a restaurant at the square. As you open your room, you see Blaire unpacking. She looks up and she grins at you.

“Hey roomie.”

You run over and give her a tight squeezed hug, and she reciprocates. “When did your flight get in??” you excitedly ask, pulling away to put your box in the fridge. “An hour ago, I figured you were out with Markus, Janet and all them.” You nod, before climbing onto your bed and sitting.

“So. You never told me about your new boyfriend…” You look at her expectantly.

Her expression turns to one of almost nervousness. She holds her sweater sleeve, fiddling with it. “His name is Ludwig…okay promise me you aren’t going to judge.”

You furrow your brows in concern and nod. “Okay. I promise.”

“He’s in a frat. Gamma Pi.” You withhold a groan. “I can see you judging.” You roll your eyes. “A frat guy? Seriously?”

“They’re not all bad. He’s a good guy, I promise. You just have to meet him.” She hits you with her best puppy eyes, and you have a moment of realization. “Oh no. Blaire, no. You have to be joking.”

“We’re going to the party tonight and you’re going to meet him. It won’t kill you to get out and meet new people!”

You fall backwards onto your bed before taking a pillow and screaming into it. It just might.

[allmyandroids]

[podcast-hemocytoblast]

By the time cars were invented, Jonah Magnus was already well into the body hopping game, which raises the question: has he ever actually learn to drive? Did this man sit through driver’s ed? Or has he just been getting out of legal repercussions for his shit driving by telling the cops everything he knows about their deepest darkest secrets every time he gets pulled over?

[screampied]

SLOW IT DOWNNN MAKE IT BOUNCY !? ☆

gojo, choso, toji, sukuna, geto. riding the jjk men so good that they whine for you

cw. fem! reader, whiney men, unprotected, cowgirl, reverse, car sēx, praise, shotgunning (geto), dirty talk, spanking, biting, breaking the bed, size kink, overstim, choking (toji), wc. 3.6k

an. ateez reference >.~

𐔌 SATORU GOJO.

“oh, someone’s gettin’ ngh, cocky.” he’d groan, semi-sweaty hands glued to both sides of your waist. gojo can’t even try to hold his whines because it’s not even seconds later and his head throws itself back in rapture. with a cute abashed expression spraying over his sour features, he swallows what’s undoubtedly the last few drops of his pride. “f-fuuuck, teasin’ me with these killer hips. ‘s no fair, baby.”

and as he speaks, watching you jerk and grind against him at a much more lively speed—gojo captures a nice chunk of your ass, gifting it an impolite smack. he’s so embarrassed that a hand of his covers his mouth. giggling, you gradually peel his hands away, kissing near the tip of his nose. “awwwh,” you coo in a seductive purr, barreling his fattened length inside of you. “don’t be shy, ‘toru. i wanna see that pretty face.”

“shut uppp,” he whines again, a pout immediately stretching over his sheeny-slick lips. your soft touch alone sends him electric shivers to meander all through him. his dick twitches from the sweet sweet friction before cereluan-pristine eyes of his roll their way back into the very ends of his skull. “ugh, you do it s-so good though. fuck me, f-fuck me please.”

with your arms flinging around his broad pent up shoulders, you lean in to bestrew a few kisses near the corners of his mouth. gojo’s rosé-colored lips tremor in longing for more of you. for more of your touch, more of your taste. the head of his cock pursues to mash against your folds, thwacking and thwacking away. “slower, baby?” you whisper against the very hem of his ear, giving it a little nibble to earn another wailing whimper from him.

“s-slow, yeah,” he holds your hips in place, having a race with his own breath—a mere competition. you’ve got him right where you wanted him. submissive, pinned down, and needy. with a three second clear of his throat, he groans, meeting your gaze once more. “don’t get cocky.. ‘m still the strongest ‘n i can flip you over ‘n h-have my way if—”

he gets cut off by your lips, his muffled moans pour right into your mouth and he purrs once a finger of yours strokes alongside his undercut.

another whine leaves from gojo’s lips the moment your fingers brush against there. his precious undercut. anytime your finger would drag down that part of his hair, he’s already a melting puddle. his face was flushed as you’re rocking back and forth against him. heavy drawing pants sneak out of his lips before he lets off a tremulous whine. “o-oh my god, ‘m gonna cum,” and he knows from the way his tip starts to repeatedly swipes against the insides of your sopping cunt. you’re clinging onto him tightly from the inside—a grip so tight that it makes him bite his lip, begging for more. after a while, leisurely—your lips comes to a slowing slow.“fuck, f-fuck me. ngh, think this pussy’s gonna kill me.”

“you’re so dramatic baby,” you tease, sneaking a wet kiss near the corner of his mouth. “mwah,” and he shivers from your touch. clammy hands of gojo’s grab onto your waist, pulling you further against him before he grunts against your ear. even his whines, they were so cute. he’s never felt more embarrassed. with his head tossing itself back, his eyes widen before he’s dumping a thick load into your needy cunt. “mhm, ‘s good,” you hum, panting yourself before you cup both sides of his face. who was once famously known as the strongest, was now easily able to be mistaken as the weakest . . especially whenever it came to pussy. your pussy. you titter, still feeling him trickle such gummed amounts into you. it’s so sloppy that it sloshes all around your beloved insides. “good boy.”

“f- fuck, say it again,” gojo sheepishly grins, laid back with your waist still in his tight grip. he’s all pussy drunk, the epitome of the word, really. a pout stretches against his lips as he waits for your reply, pretty navy blue irises doe at you before he pants.

“good boy, ‘satoru, my good boy,” you repeat, playfully flicking his chest back so you could go again. “let’s try that again, hm?”

“y- yes baby.”

𐔌 SUGURU GETO.

“s-shit,” geto whews, hurling an arm around the back of his reclined car seat. the mood couldn’t have been more perfect. you were riding him in his car, the view was so pretty. you were so pretty, the way you’re moving all against him—taking his breath away. the woodsy scent of geto’s leather jacket roams through the air as you creep a hand up into his biker white tee. “thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”

geto’s groans only makes your pussy throbs multiple by the second. a plump shaped blunt sticks from the side of his mouth, taking a few milliseconds to recover from his most recent puff. with bloodshot eyes, he can’t help but pull you into a deep kiss, blowing a few gusts of air into your mouth. as it travels, his tongue fervently gyrates against yours before you blow it right back into his. once you swallow, it tastes earthy and citrusy. as it aerates between each mouth, you moan, “s-suguru,” you moan, feeling his fingers prowl its way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady. geto’s for a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “gonna cum soon.”

“bet you are,” he whispers, his foot tapping against the carpet floor of the parked vehicle. by the second—geto’s raspy moans start to get more vocal within each jiff that passes. as he’s still buried into your cunt, entangled with every inch of you, your speed arises with its own deliberate quickness. “fuck sweetheart, you’re gonna send me to a hospital with those nasty hips.”

“should i go faster—?” you coo against the shell of his ear, the tip of his cock kissing against your g-spot. it’s a tickling sensation that’s almost enough to make you drool.

geto grunts, his voice becoming a bit more trembly. with the way your body jolts against him in harmony, he’s feeling that familiar primal heat snake its way into the pit of his stomach. “slower, i- i like it when you’re slow for me, gorgeous.” and a hand of his caresses near the juncture of your thighs. you moan from his touch, vast pads of his fingertips ghosting against your skin. a hand of geto’s reaches towards his blunt and he takes another long deep puff. “ugh, ‘m hitting you in that spot. gonna milk me again, sweet thing.”

“don’t miss this time,” you whine against his neck, taking a few seconds to lick against his skin. geto hissed at the brief pang that entraps m his cock from the base down with such bliss. your cunt’s greedy, swallowing it whole with its entire being—never wanting to part. grabbing onto his large pointed shoulders, he’s just making you throb time and time again. a moistened tongue of his licks against his parted lips before he feels a clench. he’s so fucking thick, as you’re barreling his staggering length, repeatedly slamming down against his lap—you feel him starting to judder from underneath you. it comes in waves and he’s about to lose all kinds of composure with your movements. “come on, sugu. cum with me.”

“keep talkin’ to me like that ‘n ‘m gonna propose.” he jibes, though part of you knew your boyfriend was serious. “mhmnn, f-fuck, ‘s good. right there, right fucking there.”

by now, geto’s entire voice wasn’t the same as it was a few minutes ago. he’s whining, sweet cacophonies of “f-fuck me,” and “baby, ‘s good,” continue to spew out of his lips. in the background, obscene pressure continues to arise and alleviate inside of your own tummy—you’re swaying your hips against him at such force that not even gravity could keep up with the pull. the foam of the driver’s seat nearly wears itself thin before you toss your arms around his neck. “i know baby, give it to me. cum with me, sugu.”

“anything for you, sweet girl,” he hiccups, and that’s the last words he remembers murmuring before he shoots satiny ropes of cum into you. your hole flutters and within seconds, you end up finishing right after him. you both moan in unison, yet geto’s louder, he’s whining against your ear. with his head slump back, he’s barely holding onto waist now. geto’s body shakes as he comes undone, filling up your insides with such amounts of viscous seed. he’s panting, heavily. it’s so much that it dribbles from your pussy towards the crevices of your thigh. “s-shiiiiit,” he sibilates in a single breath, flicking his rolled blunt aside. with a low sigh, he leans back against the fleece made seat. “goddamn, baby.”

a smile purses against his lips, a timid one, but still a smile. above his lap, you’re still spasming yourself. you bring your rotating hips to a steady halt before you press a wet kiss against the edge of his wobbly pursed lips. “you okay, sugu—”

“marry me,” he cuts you off, wrapping his beefy arms around you. “i want you.”

𐔌 SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“tch, you’re such a pain,” he’d murmur at your first request to ride him on his throne. “but fine. get up here, woman. ‘n be quick, got things to do.”

despite his gruff tone and stern exterior, you’d make him chew his words in a way he’d least expect it. as sukuna preps you—getting you nicely soaked and wet, he aligns himself against your slick opening. you glance down at the upward curve of his dick and it was purely appetizing. he was already big regardless, but just fantasizing about taking him in his true form with his two cocks make your mouth start to pool with filthy, syrupy saliva. “f-fuck,” you’d mutter, ogling at the cunning grin of his stretch against his face in your peripherals.

bastard,

there was never a dull moment where sukuna ryōmen was not smug—he loved relishing your cute pornographic expressions. how you’re biting your tongue until it turns into chewing, taking every chance you get to suppress your cute little whines. “mhm, such a good girl. you take it quite well for a brat i must say.”

“shut up.”

“make me..”

two predictable simple words and you in fact do make him shut up — just with your salacious hips alone.

as sukuna’s lazily leaning back against the hardened furniture of his infamous throne—he was cocky, just talking and talking.

as you’re grinding your hips against his lap in a lewdly fashion, you nip a bit near his neck. he scoffs, a hand of his pulling your waist closer towards him. with each vigorous jostle, you’re starting to pick up the pace. he’s stuffed all the way inside, churning your insides up like butter. mixing all around your gripping walls with his fat cock, you moan—feeling the edges of his claws gingerly dig against your skin. your flesh, he’s grabbing a fair piece of your ass before he smacks it. the recoil makes him groan, your hips were a mere enemy, a force to be reckoned with..

“is that a pout?” you brush a thumb against his bottom lip, leaning in to kiss him but he growls. sukuna bares a single dang, and instead of it being intimidating, it’s just cute. ruby flared irises of his stare into you before he’s just lounging back against the chair. “f-fuck, ‘kuna. you don’t have to hide your moans, you know. ‘s just me.”

“shut up, girl.” he snarls, a wave of embarrassment washing over him. as you’re continuing to slowly rut back and forth, he gnaws on his lip like it’s candy. for a second, you watch as his eyes flicker. sukuna’s eyes switch to white and then he whines. it’s so faint that you could barely hear it, but he definitely slips out a whine. in a husky groan, he whines again— this time, it’s more of a sweetened whimper. “f-fuckin’ shit,” and he notices you slow down to openly stare at him. he glares but it doesn’t even last because as you’re keeping the entirety of his pulsing shaft warm within your tender walls, he whines again. “don’t look at me, ugh. i— phew, i need a minute.”

you pause, feeling his dick twitch inside your clenching before you have a teasing smug grin. throwing your arms around his shoulders, you peck a kiss near his cheek before running a finger down his chest, sliding past the fabric of his half-work kimono. “take all the time in the world, old man.”

“w- watch it.”

𐔌 CHOSO KAMO.

“don’t think ‘m gonna last,” choso blurts, starring at your gorgeous reflection through the mirror. you’d mention to him that you wanted to try riding him in reverse. he didn’t mind, he was more excited than anything. anytime you’d recommend a new position to try with choso, his eyes would light up. it was purely adorable—with wheezing breaths, he softly sinks his teeth into the margin of your neck. a lengthy tongue of his runs down your skin before he moans. “ngh, go s-slow like that, baby. ‘m hitting you so deep inside i think.”

and he’s just babbling to you, pathetic candied whimpers going into your neck as he sinks into your pussy raw. the concise stretch that shortly follows has your heart racing—head spinning, mind forevermore in a never ending loop.

“fuck, hold me choso. hold my hips, mhm,” and as your grinding significantly accelerates, you feel the sensation of your chest deflating. choso’s sputtering out cute inaudible whines into your neck as you’re moving your hips quicker. “touch me, good. good boy.”

“your good boy,” he immediately replies, taking a second to slink his quavering, reddened lips against the nape of your neck. each kiss he gives you stacks up before it turns into sweet, desperate sucking. choso moans, savoring the taste of your tender skin as you’re thrashing your hips against his. his throbbing cock consistently curls inside of your walls before he nibbles against your collarbone. “hngh, baby. your hips, you’re slowing down on purpose—aren’t you?”

with an airy giggle, you grab onto his knees for support. “should i slow down for you, ‘cho?”

“n-no, please,” he swallows. instinctively his big, bulky arms wrap around your waist. he’s giving you a gentle firm squeeze like a teddy bear. choso never wants to let you go—not now, not ever. he’s starting to hear the expeditious pumping beats of blood pulse through his ears, metaphorically slurping up your fervor, and he whines again. “f- fuuuck, that spot, gonna drain me. feel it, ‘m gonna cum. can i cum?” and he halts his jittery speech before whimpering against your twitching ears. “please lemme cum. don’t wanna b-be messy without my girl’s permission first.”

a breathy whine of your own leaves from your spit slicked lips before you kiss his cheek. “yes, baby. you can cum. ‘s okay,” and he pouts, a longing expression marinating against his features at your words. oh, if it was anyone who could turn him into a soft sap, it was you. you and your seductive, mouthwatering hips. choso brings his wrist over his face as you’re still maintaining a decent pace. his cock matches your movements in sync, piercing through every orifice to make your thighs tense in desire. nirvana, ecstasy, you feel everything coursing through your veins at once. choso’s cute whimpers were now all muffled from him trying to cover them with the back of his hand.

it was cacophonous—he leans back into a slump as you’re mashing against his body. hot needy bodies press back against each other in harmony, it’s so hypnotic. the insides of your viscous walls were smoldering with heat before he dumps right into you. it’s abrupt, a gasp snakes out from his throat as he’s feeling himself spit out such gobs of cum into you. you’re heavily trembling underneath him. it’s so much that it even costs near your thighs, dribbling down and it feels so sticky. you hum into his neck,

it’s so much—choso’s shaking right with you, strands of blackened hair running down his forehead, nearly occluding his vision as he’d still covering his face. “o-oh shit,” he whimpers, and he swallows, the air suddenly growing mute. he can hear the wet, sopping sounds of your pussy soaking in all of him before our of nowhere—it’s a ear splitting creak. choso’s so out of it that he doesn’t even realize nor acknowledges that the headboard collapses down. your hips were to blame, he doesn’t even flinch—instead, he pulls you into a needy kiss. it’s sloppy, he sucks against your tongue as you’re still keeping his dick warm. it’s twitching, convulsing within your hold. as tongues tango alongside each other, he grabs your hips. pulling away, he huffs. “more,” he pants, and you gasp once you’re suddenly now gently pushed on all fours. your ass gets shoved up by choso and his voice pitches. he’s still whiney, but he moans, prodding his leaky tip against your hole. “love you baby. but i-i’m gonna get you pregnant.”

𐔌 TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“can a little girl like you even handle me?”

famous last words—

it takes you a bit to adjust to toji’s thickset size, but once he’s all the way inside, his jaw tightens. your jaw tightens too. he’s quite the size with a fair amount of girth that it makes you feel a chilling snapping coil within you. you lean into him, smothering a few saturated kisses near his chin, his neck, and most importantly, his scar.

a sly smirk tug its way against his pink lips as he feels you show his slanted scar its deserved uninvited attention all while you’re jerking your hips against him. “you talk too much,” you inhale, the fullness of your lungs merely snatching the wind out of you. he couldn’t deny it though, your rhythm, it was enticing. rough big hands of his grip against your hips and you can see his adam’s apple bob once his head tilts back a bit. while the manly musk of toji’s cologne wafts through your nostrils, your pussy starts to constrict every few thrusts as he’s deep inside. he’s so big, his swollen sack repeatedly jackhammers and pummels against your soddened cunt before he starts to lean back more.

“ya gonna do somethin’ about it or…?” toji sneers at you, lincoln green eyes never taking you seriously. stubby fingers of his dig into your skin, clasping against your hips as you swing back and forth. as you oscillate against him, he’s taken by surprise once you wrap a hand around his throat. “ooh. chokin’ me too? ‘s kinda kinky, baby. got some nerve, heh.”

“shut up, toji.” you moan, and his eyes continue to wander down your body. god, he can’t help but stare a bit. the way your perfect rounded your tits bounce against your chest. just perfect. his hands were all over you. your body even has somewhat of a gleaming glow, simply from the sunlight that ricochets off the window pane right above the two of you. your hips only then started to get increasingly sloppy,

the action itself turns him on. with an eyebrow raise, you lean in to kiss him. he chuckles darkly, allowing you to rummage your tongue against his.

as your warm body continues to collide against his in such a swift way, he groans in your mouth. you decide to be a tease, creeping a hand against his chest to play with his exposed, broad tits nipples. your fingers strum against it as you’re still shoving your tongue down his throat. with his dick still happily tucked inside of your gluey, grippy walls, he suddenly lets off a whine. “m-mhm?” and he pulls away from your mouth, a string of glutinous saliva snatches away from each spit-coated lips before he sighs. “fuckin’ girl. told ya how my n-nipples get me sensitive when you suck on them.”

“cover them up next time, slut,” you tease, bringing your lips to kiss near the bridge of his nose.

toji’s eye twitches—his pecs were all swollen and out on display, you even inch your head down to lick a stripe against his nipples. “mhm,” you’d hum, feeling his entire body shiver from the coldness of your tongue flick around his tenderly sensitive skin. he huskily groans once you position yourself back up, slamming your legs down against his lower crotch area for the nth time.

with how hard your body smacks against his, you’re sticking against toji like glue. adhesive and all, with your arms still flimsy and frail—you start to make your speed quicker. as your hips piston in pleasure, his low pitched moans start to get louder. “ah, f-fuck,” he leans back, spanking the right temples of your ass. over and over and over, his hand swats against your skin repeatedly like a broken record. “fuck me then,” bratty viridiscent pupils meets yours, and his voice was on the verge of being weaker than it already was. with his tone all cutely strained and timid, it was nothing like the usual toji who’s always haughty and cocksure. as his ravened brows curl into a frustrated furrow, he starts to grab your hips to get a more thorough angle inside of your puffy pussy. “wanna put me in my place? fuck me then,” and he whines again once you squeeze his left nipple, kissing the edge of his scar. “hmph. ‘s doesn’t mean anything though. ‘sides, if y’er g-gonna choke me, at least do it harder, h-heh.”