#fic: I am aware that I am an asshole | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlymingyus · 3 months

Text

give it to me

pairing; jeon wonwoo x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop pouting.”

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

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

“I don’t want to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, Y/N, darling.”

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

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

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

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t—okay!”

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

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

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

“Wonwoo…”

“Now!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go for a drive, Princess.”

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

“Home sweet home, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Welcome home.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How was your nap?”

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

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

“I want to go home.”

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

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

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

“You are such an asshole.”

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

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

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

“Eat, we are gonna be here awhile.”

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

“I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“Mr. Y/L/N, good evening.”

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

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

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

“Like what? Who is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, whatever…”

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

“Y/N, get up. Come over here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and listen to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m just a good liar.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not broken; you’ll live.”

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

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

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

Park: I’m tired of your bullshit

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

Park: Hyong wants more pictures

2 missed calls from Park

Park: You son of a bitch

Park: answer the fucking phone!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off. I'll take care of it.”

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

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

“Wanna go for some fresh air, princess?”

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

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

“Can I ask a question?”

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

“Are you going to kill me?”

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

“I’m supposed to. That’s the job.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl. Come on.”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want to, Wonwoo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Life insurance, Wonwoo.”

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

“How much?”

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

“100 billion.”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo: When I’m ready.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t get what he wants.”

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

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

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

“Hey…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re allowed to react, princess.”

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

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

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

“Trust me, I do.”

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

“Do you even want to go home?”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“He wants to kill me?”

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“He would? Park Bonhwa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A shield?”

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

“Are you still afraid of me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

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

“I don’t really sleep.”

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

“What? You don’t believe me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck do you want now?”

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

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

“You won’t do anything!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Turning yourself in?”

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

“Never. Need to ask for that favor.”

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

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

"Forever, hopefully, with your help.”

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

“I—and why the fuck would I—”

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

“And what do you need from me?”

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

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

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

“Have you met her father?”

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

“Mm, a real son of a bitch.”

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

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

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

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

“The information will be better than good.”

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

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

“Y/N…”

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

“It’s fine, Wonwoo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll make you disappear; remember, I said I knew someone, and I’ll—” The words seem difficult and unplanned as Wonwoo leans back, his fingers once again trying to get rid of your tears as you meet his eyes. He looks desperate, almost like a different person—a man not willing to lose what’s in front of him. “I’ll disappear with you.”

Wrapping your hands around Wonwoo’s wrists, you give him a confused look. There were so many questions on your mind because so many things about what he just said didn’t make sense to you. You didn’t understand how his friend could just make you disappear and go with you.

“Why?” Now the same confusion was written on Wonwoo’s face as you asked the one word question, prompting you to speak again. “Why would you disappear with me, Wonwoo?”

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo strokes his thumb along your cheek. That was a valid question. You had every right to ask that, and he should answer it. Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo licks his lips and glances down at yours before cursing under his breath. He knew the answer, it was just the most difficult thing he had ever admitted to another person in his life.

“I—shit, Y/N… it’s cause…”

You watch Wonwoo struggle with his words, feeling his fingers move over your skin as his brows furrow, almost in pain at how hard he’s trying to manifest his sentence. What was so hard to say to you? Sighing, you start to pull away again when Wonwoo’s lips meet yours and you only whimper into the kiss.

Wonwoo hopes the kiss will be enough to explain what he’s trying to say, but even as he deepens it and his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, he knows it’s not. He can feel your hand grabbing at his bicep and the words bubble up in his throat, escaping on to your lips like a breath.

“I love you.”

Your eyes close tighter at Wonwoo’s words, the confession hitting you in the chest like a brick. You scratch at his arm under your fingers and let out a soft sob into the kiss, feeling him nod, almost understanding you without words. The tension in the room is thick and warm. It felt like a blanket in the middle of the summer, making you both feel like you were overheating.

Laying you back on the bed, Wonwoo hovers over you, looking over your face, when he finally pulls back from the kiss. Your tears still flow freely from the corners of your eyes, causing him to swipe at them and shake his head, wishing he could will them away with a single word.

“I do; I’m sorry—”

Wrapping your hand into the front of Wonwoo’s t-shirt, pull him down hard to meet your lips, speaking against them as he starts to apologize for loving you. You silence him with your kiss, letting him settle between your thighs as you pull your knee up towards his hip. Wonwoo groans softly into your mouth, his brows finally relaxing, feeling you invite him closer to you.

With your free hand, you run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, arching your back as his fingers gather your dress at your hip. After nipping at your lips, he tilts back to look down at you, searching your eyes before staring at his hand as he exposes more of your skin. The air crackles with electric anticipation as desire intensifies between you and Wonwoo. Every touch and every glance fuels the growing fire within, leaving you both yearning for more, unable to resist the magnetic pull between your bodies. On an exhale, you let out a soft whine, walking your fingers along Wonwoo's jaw, your words coming out breathy and soft.

“Don’t apologize for saying that to me, Wonwoo.”

Closing his eyes, Wonwoo turns his attention back towards you, leaning to press his lips against your wrist. He knew he had a lot to explain to you. There was a lot you didn’t understand, a lot of half truths he had told you. He didn’t wait anymore, not when he rested between your warm thighs and felt your fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him close to you like you never wanted to lose him. He was afraid once you knew the full truth about him, you wouldn’t want him this close to you again.

“Want you so fucking bad, princess.”

Wonwoo’s words are quiet, his lips moving to press against your jaw as he lays his body against yours. You whine, finally letting go of his shirt in place of wrapping your arm around his waist so you can pull his shirt up his back. All that tension in the room feels like a fire burning around you when you hear him say those words out loud.

Nodding, you lift your hips towards Wonwoo, feeling him smile against your skin before he furrows his brows and whines into a groan. Fingers slide under your dress, along your inner thigh, until finally Wonwoo finds what he was searching for. He can feel your warmth through your damp lace and it’s driving him crazy.

Glancing up at you, Wonwoo watches your lips fall open as he uses his middle finger to press the lace between your folds. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to put pressure on your already throbbing clit, and you are wanting and needing more.

“Please… please, more…”

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch in at your breathy moans. Each new word on your lips—better than anything he had ever experienced. There was no other high that he could think of that could compare to the way his brain soared at such simple words slipping from between your pretty lips. He could feel himself becoming addicted to you with each breathy moan that he earned.

He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more; it would be easy. He could move his fingers ever so slightly and have his fingers inside of you, but looking at your face, Wonwoo paused. Swallowing hard, Wonwoo puts his head down, kissing your collarbone in the process as you feel his fingers slide to your thigh.

“Wha—Wonwoo?”

Reaching for his hand, trying to get him to go back to what he had been doing, you feel Wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist. Instead of letting you guide his hand, he lifts yours to his mouth, kissing your fingers as he meets yours eyes, giving you an apologetic look.

“I do want you, baby... but I need to explain some things to you first. I need you to understand who you are letting touch you, so that if you don’t want—”

Sliding up in the bed under Wonwoo, you cup his face, pressing your lips to his to silence him before he starts rambling. You weren’t stupid; you knew there were lies and obviously plenty weighing on his mind, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Meeting his eyes, you wait for him to speak, finally seeing some of the tension once again release from his face.

“Earlier, uh, you called me Kim Wonwoo.”

Nodding, you trace Wonwoo’s cheek as he settles on the bed in front of you. His hands slide over your legs, letting you adjust so that you are more comfortable. When you drape your leg over his, Wonwoo glances down at your exposed knee, tracing a small scar, trying to distract himself as he speaks.

“That’s not my name. I mean, sort of. It’s Jeon Wonwoo.”

Afraid to meet your eyes, Wonwoo draws shapes on your leg as he continues to explain his life to you. This is the only job he’s ever really known. He doesn’t explain how he got into it, but he’s hurt a lot of people and though he doesn’t say it, you understand he’s killed several people.

“Did they deserve it?”

The question makes Wonwoo’s throat feel like it’s closing up. That was the most difficult question he had ever been asked. This was why he didn’t have emotions or show them. You were bringing out his emotions and making his heart feel things that he hadn’t felt in decades. Watching Wonwoo lean his head back, you feel sorrow for the man in front of you. You want to fix his life, but then you remember how fucked up your own life is as he laughs sadly and shakes his head before shrugging.

“I don’t know, babe. No, not all of them. I didn’t ask them about their morals.”

Shushing Wonwoo, you tilt his head back down to look at you as you lean to brush your lips over his again, feeling him melt under your touch and kiss. It should matter more to you about Wonwoo’s past and possibly his future, but you find that you are more concerned about how he feels about you.

“Did I deserve it?”

Grabbing your wrists, Wonwoo sits back, staring at you, before letting go of one hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. It was a painful question, but a fair one. You had every right to ask it and he needed to answer it no matter how much it hurt him to do it.

“I thought you did at first. Made it easier to take you, to scare you.” Taking a breath, Wonwoo traces the shape of your ear with his fingers meeting your eyes. “But now I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry, Y/N. If you wanna walk out that door, I’ll let you leave.”

Wonwoo’s hand starts to drop from your face as he finishes what he needs to say. He looks defeated and certain you are going to not only kick him out of bed, but worse, you might actually want to leave. The moment his fingers drop from your jaw, you shake your head and move forward, hearing a soft, surprised gasp escape from Wonwoo’s lips when you put his back on the bed. Straddling his hips, you nudge your nose against his and tease him by brushing your lips like a whispered word along his, making him lean up to chase you before you speak.

“I thought you said you’d disappear with me, Jeon Wonwoo?”

His real name on your lips almost floors Wonwoo. His head resting back on the bed, Wonwoo nods, reaching up to once again cup your face with his hand as he mutters his promises.

“I will, yes. I promise... as soon as we can.”

Crashing your lips into his, you hear Wonwoo groan deeply at the feeling. The kiss is different, it’s almost sealing the promise and you both seem to realize that. Fingers once again slide under your dress so that Wonwoo can trace the curve of your ass as you sit down over his half hard cock trapped in his sweatpants.

You were so warm even with his pants and your thin panties, and it was causing Wonwoo’s mind to malfunction. It had been a long time since he had let himself really enjoy sex and a woman’s body for more than just a carnal need. If this had been anyone else, it would be over in minutes without much more than a word said from either person. Everything about you had Wonwoo’s brain screaming to take his time and teach you he could be better.

“Fuck… baby.” Groaning into something that sounds more like a whimper, Wonwoo rocks his hips up to meet yours, feeling you roll your hips over him. “Lay down, let me take care of you.”

Smiling, you sit up, running your fingers over Wonwoo’s chest, feeling him take deep breaths under your touch. In the past, you would have agreed to something like that without question. You would be the first to admit that you were lazy in bed with other people, a bit of a pillow princess, but with Wonwoo, you wanted to be something different. He made you want to show him more, give him more. Show him he is worth more. He was worth the risk.

Shaking your head, you slide down the length of his body, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he tells you to let him take over once again. He is silenced when your hot breath fans over the front of his sweatpants and his cock jerks almost violently in reaction.

Pressing his head back against the bed, Wonwoo just nods, lifting his hips as your fingers press into the top of his sweatpants, working them down his thighs. Your eyes focus on his face, the way he bites at his bottom lip when his cock is exposed to the air and you for the first time. Finally looking down, you tilt your head and swallow hard, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear your reaction when your eyes move over his cock from base to tip.

“You okay? Princess… I said, let me—”

“Shhh, you are just so big, Wonwoo. It’s a compliment. Take off your shirt for me.”

Your words go straight to Wonwoo’s head and make his face burn, the flush evident running from his neck to his cheeks as he lets out a slow breath. Dropping his pants into the floor, you keep your eyes on him, enjoying the view as he does as you ask, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it across the room.

Laying back reluctantly, he sits back up on his elbows as his cock leaks pre-cum against his abdomen, his eyes moving over you while you shift closer, running your hand along his thigh.

“Baby—c’mon… Let me see you at least.”

Smirking slightly, you work the sweater over your head as Wonwoo watches carefully.

“I think you are being impatient.”

Quietly laughing, Wonwoo reaches out to run his thumb along your knee, his eyes following your fingers as you work your dress up your body.

“Maybe… but you are so fucking beautiful and you won’t let me touch you first. I was close before... you were begging me.”

Humming in agreement with Wonwoo, you hand him your dress, watching him smile as he drops it on the floor with his clothes. His eyes stay focused on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, feeling it give way.

“Maybe I want you to beg me instead.”

Lifting his brow, Wonwoo takes a deep breath as your bra falls from your body. He knew you were perfect. There had been no doubt about that from the moment he first saw you as your bodyguard, but seeing you like this and feeling this way about you was a privilege.

“I don’t beg for things, princess.”

Tilting your head, you sit back on your ass between Wonwoo’s legs. With one leg on either side of his, you lift your hips, working your panties down. You hear his breath hitch as you lift one leg and then the other, slipping them off and letting them hang on your fingers before you offer them to him with a question in your eyes.

“You don’t?”

Reaching out to take your panties from you, Wonwoo scoffs when you pull them back just as his fingers graze them. He knows he could simply move and take them from you, but he knows what you want and you were making his mouth water. Licking his lips, Wonwoo tightens his jaw and meets your eyes, putting out his hand.

“But I will for you. Please, baby? Don’t tease me.”

Teasing Wonwoo was fun and it was powerful, but giving him something that he needed was just as rewarding. Smirking, you put your panties in Wonwoo’s hand, moving back to your knees as you watch him bring them to his nose, taking a deep breath of you. Only once he’s had his fill does he drop them next to the bed with the rest of the clothes and lick his lips, swallowing hard at the sight of you.

"Sure, I can’t take care of you first?”

Shaking your head, you listen to Wonwoo groan your name when your fingers wrap around his cock. He is heavy in your hand and you find yourself wanting that weight on your tongue. You want him to moan your name like that as you swallow as much of his cock as you can… so instead of answering him, you act on your desires.

Falling back on the bed, Wonwoo curses loudly as your warm mouth wraps around him. Letting your mouth meet your hand, you moan around Wonwoo, sucking on his head as you pull back, only to sink back down over him without warning. It had been far too long since Wonwoo had been with someone even close to as determined as you in bed and that was becoming too evident as he struggled to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“Bab—shit! Y/N… slow—ah, don’t wanna…”

Pulling back from Wonwoo’s cock with a small popping sound, you feel his hips jerk under your hand as you continue to stroke him. Everything you had wanted from him was becoming a reality. You were dripping onto the bed under you from the sounds coming out of Wonwoo’s mouth and the taste of him on your tongue.

Clinging to the bedding under him, Wonwoo groans loudly as you press your tongue against his slit. Not wanting to cum into your mouth, he reaches to grab at your hair, whining your name and pushing his ass against the bed, trying to get away from your mouth.

“Wanna—please? Feels too good. Let me have you.”

Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes again, you lick your lips, tasking the pre-cum smeared on them, listening to another groan slip from between his lips at the sight. You were going to be the death of him before he got his cock in you at this rate.

Sitting back, you laugh when Wonwoo wastes no time turning over on the bed so he can get back between your thighs. With no lace between him and your pussy this time, he shakes his head and lets out a slow breath, lowering himself down to press kisses to your thighs before running his tongue through your wet folds.

Wonwoo groans, his fingers gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to his mouth as he tastes you for the first time. Every worry disappears, along with every thought in his mind, as he focuses on you and nothing else. Wrapping his arm around your leg, Wonwoo adjusts himself on the bed, listening to your soft whimpering moans, driving him to make you feel even better.

You could already feel yourself tightening around nothing as Wonwoo sucked around your clit, his fingers pushing your folds apart, giving him access to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You wanted and needed more. The desire to be full of him overwhelms your brain just as much as your impending orgasm.

“Plea—Wonwoo… your fingers. I need something inside of me.”

You clearly had no idea how sexy your words were because, as soon as you spoke them, Wonwoo was trying not to thrust his hips into the mattress to find relief. Clawing at Wonwoo’s arm, you whimper his name doing your best to get what you want at your pace. Nodding, he groans, leaning back just enough to watch as he works a finger into you, feeling your tight walls suck him in. You weren’t even close to being able to handle his cock if he had to work for one finger.

“Baby… relax.”

Scoffing, you roll your hips down over Wonwoo’s finger as he nips at your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you. How did he expect you to relax with what was going on between your legs? Shooting him a contemptuous look, you watch as Wonwoo grins up at you before looking back at his fingers as he gently adds a second.

“You’ve given me that look before, princess. Right before you told me you hoped I lost my job as your bodyguard.”

Thrusting his fingers deep into you, Wonwoo watches you arch your back, a loud moan dripping off your lips like honey. There had been times before all of this, when he had been playing the part of your bodyguard when he had brief moments of weakness, picturing turning you over a surface and fucking some respect into you. If the man he was then could see him now. He imagined that man would not only be shocked at how much he had changed in such a short time, but he would probably be jealous. Who wouldn’t be jealous to see your cum dripping down his palm towards his wrist as he continued to fuck you with his fingers?

“Yes, baby… Fuck—another one. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers; take another one.”

A third finger slips into you and you practically scream in pleasure at how full you feel. The first orgasm had made your thighs start to shake, but the second one had come on so quickly after the first that you were crying. Tears drip from your cheeks as you push your hips down over Wonwoo’s fingers until you can’t take it anymore, the overstimulation making you close your legs around his hand.

Giving you one more deep thrust of his fingers, Wonwoo presses his lips to your shin as he slowly and carefully slides his fingers from your warm, throbbing pussy. You were panting out your moans like a cat in heat and it was better than anything Wonwoo had ever seen or heard in his life. There was nothing staged that could measure up to you—no porn or even work of art that matched you.

Running his hands along your knees, Wonwoo meets your eyes as he works your legs apart, feeling them shake under his touch. He knew you were still sensitive, but his cock was aching for you. Resting between your legs, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling your wet folds against his shaft as he rocks his hips towards you. One more questioning look, asking for permission, and getting a frantic nod from you is all it takes for him to ease himself into you.

The feeling of Wonwoo inside of you is so much more than his fingers and it takes your breath away. Pressing your face against his neck, you gasp, feeling the stretch when he finally stops moving, his hips flush with yours. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo has to take a steady breath, feeling you clench around him, threatening to make him cum on the spot.

“Baby, breathe… Is it too much?”

Shaking your head, you cling to Wonwoo, afraid he will pull out and you’ll be empty again. You whine his name, leaning your head back onto the pillows, meeting his eyes. Searching your eyes for pain, Wonwoo lifts one of his hands to brush his thumb over your cheek as he waits patiently for you to adjust to him, though it takes every ounce of patience he has.

“Okay, just tell—tell me when I can move.”

Nodding quickly, you scratch at Wonwoo’s sides, hearing him hiss at the feeling. You were ready for him to move, but words were hard to form. You were finding it hard to think of anything other than him and the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside of you. Lifting your hips, you moan his name and Wonwoo groans, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. Warm breath fans across your lips as he nods and whispers, “Okay,” before moving slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or himself too quickly.

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, more tears roll from your eyes to your temples at how good it feels to have Wonwoo inside of you. The way his cock stretches you so perfectly and how his head brushes over your spot each time pulls out enough to push right back into your warm walls.

“Please, please, Wonwoo, baby... faster.”

Your pleas come out as sobbing moans, causing Wonwoo to give you a concerned look, but as soon as he sees the fucked out look on your face, he can’t help but give you what you want. His thrusts become more urgent and harder. With each one, Wonwoo feels you get that much tighter around his cock until finally the coil inside you snaps. He had thought you were wet before but feeling your cum on his cock was an experience that Wonwoo knew he would never forget and it was enough to send him barreling over the edge after you.

Resting his head against your neck, Wonwoo curses under his breath, feeling his cum seep out of you, mixing with yours. He was usually much more careful than this, but he had gotten lost in the moment. Shaking his head, Wonwoo carefully slides out of you and meets your eyes full of guilt, only to find you still full of bliss.

“I didn’t even ask, baby. I’m sorry—”

Sliding your hand along Wonwoo’s jaw to his neck, you shake your head and close your eyes. You knew what had happened and what could come of it, but that wasn’t something that you could concern yourself with today. Right now, you are just happy to be alive and in bed with Wonwoo. It was the first time in possibly your entire life that you were this happy and you wouldn’t let him spoil it with guilt.

“Don’t... just tell me that you love me again.”

Unable to stop his lips from pulling up in a smile, Wonwoo shakes his head at your reaction to the situation. Moving to lay beside you, knowing neither of you could stay like this for long without taking a shower, he pulls you into his arms and presses his lips against your neck. You smile, wrapping your arms around his.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

This was the longest you had seen Wonwoo sleep. Even as you ran your fingers delicately along the bridge of his nose, he barely flinched. A smile pulls at your lips at the sight and at how warm and safe you feel lying next to him as the sun rises.

During the time that you had been awake, Wonwoo’s phone had gone off twice. You had a good feeling that the missed calls were from Park Bonhwa, but you couldn’t bear the thought of waking Wonwoo or checking his phone. There was a beautiful silence surrounding you both and not even that man could ruin it, as long as you didn’t let him.

Tracing the dip of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow, you watch as his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes slowly open. It was selfish of you to touch Wonwoo so much when he was sleeping so soundly, but seeing his eyes on you and feeling the comfort of them made it worth it.

Pulling you into his arms, Wonwoo grunts softly at the feeling of your cold fingers sliding along his ribs. He could get used to this—waking up and seeing you first thing. He wanted to get used to it, but there were things that had to happen first.

“Mm, morning, baby. “

Lips press against the top of your head and you find yourself nuzzling against Wonwoo’s chest, not wanting to face anything in the real world. You like the way his deep voice sounds when you are so close to his body, the way it seems to vibrate in his chest. Resting your ear against his chest, you smile and bite at your bottom lip, hearing Wonwoo laugh.

“Don’t wanna get up?”

Shaking your head, you whine, and Wonwoo runs his long fingers along your back, stopping to draw small circles along your spine before tracing each notch on his way up to your neck. He understood the sentiment and wanted to give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you wanted now.

“We need to talk about what comes next. Cheol is going to work on what we need for you to disappear, but he needs payment.”

There was always a catch to everything. That was something that you understood from a very young age. Everything came with a price. Your father never let you think that money grew on trees. Despite knowing you were incredibly wealthy and that you could potentially have anything you wanted, he made you earn his respect before he would give you any allowance or credit cards. Your father’s respect had cost the most out of anything you had ever paid for in your life. You will never forget the day you told your mother that you loved your father more than her and watched her face fall.

“Mmkay, how much money does he need?”

Wonwoo shakes his head at the mention of money. Of course your mind would go to money first; that was how your father had probably raised you. It wasn’t your fault that you were the way you were; Wonwoo understood that now. You were broken because you were carefully shattered piece by piece by your father over the course of your life.

“Not money, baby. Information. Trust me, this will be good for everyone in the end.” Smirking, Wonwoo lifts his hand from your back to scratch at his eyebrow as he scoffs at his own words, correcting them. “Almost everyone.”

Information was a currency you were familiar with; it just wasn’t something you commonly used. You have seen your father get rich off information plenty of times. Leaning your head back, you glance up at Wonwoo, furrowing your brows as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over your cheek.

“About my father?”

The next couple of hours you spend against Wonwoo go through what you know about your father’s company. You tell him more about the business dinners and dates that he has set up for you over the years and though Wonwoo listens carefully, he seethes. Every new piece of information he leaves about your father makes him hate the man even more.

It’s when you get to your mother that you find it more difficult to talk with confidence. You find strength in Wonwoo’s touch, his hands gliding over your skin as his lips press to your forehead, taking in each word. Your sorrow at losing the one person who meant something to you, becomes Wonwoo’s sorrow when tears drip from your cheek onto his chest.

“Baby… I know this is too much. I’m sorry, we can talk more about the business side—”

“It’s okay. It’s his fault.” Rubbing your nose hard, you pull your legs under you, letting Wonwoo tuck you into his side. “I don’t know how, but I just know it is. She didn’t just die.”

There is no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that you are right about your assumption. With as much life insurance that your father had placed on you, he could only imagine the amount he would put on a spouse.

“He kept reminding me after her funeral that I loved him more. He kept giving me gifts and all this money…”

Leaning his head back against the headboard, Wonwoo tries to picture you mourning and your brute of a father wooing you out of it with possessions. The cold woman who had treated her staff like trash was just a reflection of him.

“He’ll pay for that, Y/N. I promise.”

You nod along with Wonwoo’s words, though you don’t understand how he plans on making that happen. In your eyes, your father was bulletproof. He was a cliff face that you kept hitting as the waves pushed you around like you were nothing.

Tracing the shape of your bottom lip as you rest against his shoulder, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling concern wash over him. You had talked until you couldn’t anymore. Exhaustion had taken over you and not even having him next to you or food in your stomach was enough to keep your eyes open any longer. You looked calm like this—breathing softly against his bare skin—even as you squeezed your eyes shut a bit tighter in your sleep.

Wonwoo carefully slides his arm from under you, letting your cheek rest against his palm as he adjusts the pillow under your head. Now you look comfortable. He hated the idea of not having you in his arms, but there was much left to do. Giving you one more glance as he swipes his phone from the nightstand, Wonwoo opens the bedroom door and closes it before making his way downstairs.

Seungcheol was trying not to get antsy about his current situation, but the minutes were ticking by and it didn’t seem like you or Wonwoo were in a rush. So when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the detective lets out a sigh of relief, leaning against his car.

“I won’t lie, I had a few moments today when I thought you might be fucking me over.”

Smirking at Seungcheol’s words, Wonwoo uses his index finger to pull the blinds ever so slightly from the window so he can check the street out of habit.

“Just when we were starting to like one another?”

Getting behind the wheel of the Audi, Seungcheol scoffs and presses the button to start his car. The sooner he could be away from the station, the better, especially if this conversation was going to go where he imagined it to. Hearing the sound of the engine as Seungcheol wastes no time in pulling out of the parking garage, Wonwoo shakes his head, dropping the blinds back in place and lowering himself into a nearby armchair.

“I needed time to talk to Y/N. She’s the one with the most information, and she had plenty. Like I said, Cheol… you’ll get a promotion out of this.”

Seungcheol can’t stop himself from taking a deep breath in anticipation. If the information was as good as Wonwoo was alluding to, this could be the best decision he has ever made.

“I’m listening.”

“And I have terms.”

Of course he did. The good feeling that Seungcheol had for a fleeting moment sank right back into his chest with Wonwoo’s words. Leaning his head back against the leather headrest, Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel and narrows his eyes as he speaks.

“Again, I’m listening.”

Tilting his head, Wonwoo bites at his cheek out of a mixture of nerves and frustration. He knew that Seungcheol would be happy with what he had to tell him, but he had to make sure that you were taken care of. On top of that, he hadn’t known that he wanted to leave with you; that was a possible kink in the plan as far as Seungcheol might be concerned.

“New name, meaning all IDs.” Seungcheol groans in annoyance at Wonwoo’s request; it was what he had assumed, but as soon as he starts to speak, he is cut off and rendered speechless. “For both of us.”

“I—”

Picking at a loose string on the chair, Wonwoo listens to Seungcheol struggle to make heads or tails of what he had just asked of him before he continues.

“Money; we both know she can’t keep her accounts. We will need a safe flight out of Korea.”

With his head spinning at all Wonwoo was asking of him, Seungcheol pulls his car over, putting it in park, before letting out an unamused laugh.

“I—well fuck… anything else? Would you like for me to make her the Queen of England while I’m at it?” The amusement fades from his voice as he smacks at his dashboard. “Why are you asking for impossible things? How in the hell am I going to get you out of Korea?”

“Figure it out, Seungcheol! Or are you not interested in bringing down her piece of shit father?”

Throwing up his hands, Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, unsure what could be worth giving up, Jeon Wonwoo.

“For what? Some shady trading? The insurance policy? Give me something better than that or I’m gonna bring both of your asses in.”

“Embezzlement, laundering, and possible murder.”

Every snide comment and scoff that Seungcheol has been giving Wonwoo stops when he hears those words.

“If—can she prove it?”

Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo digs his nail into his thumb, feeling frustrated with Seungcheol and the entire situation. You shouldn't have to prove anything. It was practically being laid out for him, but he understood that some horses had to be led to water.

“Y/N said there is a lawyer, Son Hyunwoo. Pay him enough and he’ll spill everything.”

Typing the name into his phone and keeping Wonwoo on speaker in his car, Seungcheol nods, looking over the practice that Son Hyunwoo belongs to and some of his more prevalent clients. To the general public, his client list looked like a billboard for great service and reliability, but to a good detective, it screamed corruption.

“This is good. If he talks, I’ll get you what you need. I’ll be in touch.”

Wonwoo runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath when the phone disconnects. He hoped for your sake, more than his own, that you were right.

— Two Days Later —

Bonhwa glares at his phone, seeing Wonwoo’s name. The man had been avoiding him like it was his job and now, just as he was about to have the dogs on his heels, he decided it was a good time to call. Gritting his teeth, Bonhwa answers his phone while pushing the heel of his hand under his nose to clean the white powder from it with a loud sniff.

“Wanna make this easier on everyone by bringing her to my office? I promise I won’t kill you; just break something.”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo had already prepared for Park Bonhwa’s empty threats. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore than he was afraid of a dog without teeth. He knew that Bonhwa couldn’t find him, which means he couldn’t find you. With time, if the two of you stayed in Seoul, he might get a sniff on a trail, but that wasn’t happening.

“I’ve been busy. Why are you so fuckin’ grumpy?”

Watching Seungcheol load a suitcase into the trunk of the car as he talks to you, Wonwoo furrows his brows, hearing Bonhwa’s voice go up an octave. He knew he was pushing his buttons, but he had a reason. There was always a reason behind what Wonwoo did.

“Why—why am I? You stupid son of a bitch! Half! I get half when I deliver proof of that bitch’s body to Hyong. Do you know how humiliating—”

Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Bonhwa stops mid sentence to stare at the desk in front of him. He had half a mind to get in his car right now and search the entire city for Jeon Wonwoo. Feeling his phone vibrate in his hand, he furrows his brow and lets out a disgruntled sound, ready to continue telling Wonwoo off when Wonwoo speaks first.

“Check your email. It’s done… makes no fucking sense to drive around with a body.”

Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he paces talking to Bonhwa, you barely hear Seungcheol talking to you. Noticing you aren’t understanding what he’s telling you, the man steps in front of you, obscuring your view.

“Can we finish our conversation now, Y/N? He’s fine. He’s taking care of what he needs to, so let’s go over the rest of this shit.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about Choi Seungcheol. You could see why he had been the one who had gotten close to Wonwoo, he was tenacious and abrasive. Nodding, you watch as Seungcheol lifts his brows and leans to take a folder out of his car, showing it to you.

“ID, passport, some cash... Wonwoo knows how to get more when it’s needed. This won’t be like the pampered life you had before, so—”

“You don’t know anything about me, Seungcheol.”

In the short time that he had known you, Seungcheol had heard you speak a handful of times. You had to let Wonwoo speak for you or at least let him carry the conversations. To say that he perhaps had a skewed view of you based on what he knew about your father and researching you, would be an understatement.

“Maybe not, but I’m just saying... make it last. Keep your mouth shut.”

Holding out your hand for the folder, you lock eyes with Seungcheol as he places it in yours.

“I’m not stupid.”

A smirk pulls at one side of the detective’s lips at your words. That he did know. There was no way Wonwoo would put this much effort into keeping you alive if you were. Letting go of the folder, Seungcheol takes a step back and glances back to Wonwoo as he grunts, bending the phone in his hand with some effort. The screen shatters first and then the metal gives way, effectively destroying the device before he tosses it towards the river, listening to the dull thud when it hits the surface.

“That bullshit is done. He’s satisfied with what you came up with.”

Scoffing, Seungcheol shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a bit offended at the insinuation that anyone wouldn’t be satisfied with his work. He had gone above and beyond for this. You had been lucky that the information you had provided for him had been the best he had received in a long time. It had served as motivation for what Seungcheol saw as a work of art.

“Yeah? Well maybe you should have dealt with pulling a Jane Doe out of the morgue.”

Wonwoo exhales an unamused laugh, sliding his hand around your waist. He knew that Seungcheol had worked hard and he appreciated it. He could almost taste freedom and it was a strange sensation.

“No thanks. I’ll leave that to the professionals.” Leaning to kiss the side of your head, Wonwoo gives you a once over before glancing back at the car, seeing it packed. “Ready to go?”

You had no idea where you and Wonwoo were going. He and Seungcheol told you that in case things went south, it was better for you to know less. While you understood that, it still made leaving your entire life behind even more terrifying. Still, as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing that reassuring look in them, you manage to nod.

“Perfect, can’t wait to get you both out of my hair.”

Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s words, knowing that while he was trying to crack a joke, there was a layer of truth to them, especially concerning himself.

“Don’t worry, Cheol. We won’t darken your doorstep again.”

Taking a step backwards, towards his own car, Seungcheol points at Wonwoo as he speaks.

“I’ll fuckin’ hold you to it. Show your face around here again and I’ll throw your ass in a cell.”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo turns his attention back to you, reaching to open the passenger's side door. He lets you sit down as he looks down at you, much like he did a week ago under much different circumstances.

“Where are we going, Wonwoo?”

You watch curiously as he tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to think of how to tell you the answer without actually answering it.

“Did you pack a bikini?”

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svthub #wonwoo angst #wonwoo toxic #wonwoo fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen toxic #seventeen fluff #svt smut #svt angst #svt fluff #svt toxic #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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nadvs · 3 months

Note

Loved sleeping with the enemy!

What if Rafe visit her at her dorm room and he is on her bed in just his pants or boxers and Max knocks on her door because he wants to talk to her or take her to a party or something. She opens her door and he can clearly se Rafe on the bed. There is silence and then Rafe goes "Sup Hammond"

THANK YOU BABE 🥰 omg i am OBSESSED with this. ain’t no way rafe doesn’t love fucking with him about it. she’s also satisfied with how much it pisses her ex off 🤭

based on this fic

she and rafe def become friends with benefits after they hook up 👀 the sex is too good not to. at games, he’s completely shameless and goes to talk to her whenever he can between quarters, fully aware of how shocked some people are that he’s being civil at all, especially with a girl who cheers for his rivals.

max grovels and tries to get back together with her for quite a while but she laughs in his face every time he tries (and it reminds him of how rafe does that during games and it makes him even madder lmao) (she kind of picks up some of rafe’s asshole tendencies but max deserves it)

one day, max comes to her dorm unexpected, still so desperate to get back together and when she opens the door, she purposely swings it wide enough so he can see rafe stretched out on her bed in boxers.

“what is it this time?” she sighs, crossing her arms. max can only glare at the man in her bed. silence settles between them and she looks back to see rafe with a cocky grin.

“you good, hammond?” rafe says with a laugh. “still not used to losing?”

“rafe,” she says, not putting in the effort to even pretend like she’s actually scolding him.

“i wanted to…” max begins, but he shakes his head.

“go home?” rafe says. “we’re about to go for round two so if you don’t mind-”

“oh, my god,” she laughs.

“i’ll call you,” max says, his lips twisted in anger. she tells him not to bother before shutting the door.

#ask #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #swteblurb

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Long Snake Moan 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you're not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I think it’s best it comes from you,” Tony pats your shoulder. You stare at him in disbelief.

“Me?” You bat your eyes dumbly. “But I just... I’m just passing along the information--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis here.” He flashes his phone screen at you. The talk of Stark Tower has been his latest disaster out in the middle of nowhere. Usually, these things are forgotten but an unfortunate post has made the rounds. “You delivered the message perfectly, you can do it again.”

“But, sir, with due respect, this isn’t exactly in my job description.” You walk backwards as he strides around his desk and tucks his phone away.

“Your job is to do what I tell you to do. Now,” he looks at you, his eyes flicking up and down, “I think you’re the best possible carrier pigeon for this. Look at you. That ungodly asshole can’t be mad at you and I definitely am not telling him. Not without another explosion and I’m on probation right now.” He taps his chest and his suit expands around his body. “His brother should be wandering around, maybe he can help control the beast.”

“Sir, don’t make me do this--” He goes to the window and hits the button to pop out the pane.

“I pay you well enough, sweetheart, so get to work.” He jumps out and his helmet covers his head, blue flame blasting from his heels and gloves as he takes off into the sky.

You cringe and look down. You should quit. You’ve been reciting the mantra to yourself for months; quit, quit, quit. You wish you had that choice. So far, your resume hasn’t baited any takers. Even with all your work for Stark Industries. Considering who your reference is, you’re starting to wonder.

You glance around and steel yourself. You walk out of the office and down the hall. Your low heels click, in slow tempo with your dread. You trawl the top floor, searching for a certain blond giant. Thor isn’t anywhere to be found. You’ll have to try the compound... maybe you could just give them a call.

No, you know Mr. Stark wouldn’t like that. Even if you could get a hold of either of the Asgardians, your boss would make you face the music in person. You take out your phone and scroll through the contacts. Most of them, you’ve never had to call, they’re only there for emergencies and usually, you’re not the one calling them for that.

You put the phone to your ear as it dials. It rolls for so long, you’re certain you’ll get the voicemail. It picks up at the last moment, the line buzzing and unclear.

“Hel-lo?” Thor’s deep baritone greets you. “It is the little assistant, yes?”

You can just make out his hazy words. “Yes, Mr. Odinson? Can you hear me?”

He laughs and you hear him shuffling around. The crackling stops and the line clears. “Mr. Odinson. You Midgardians. It’s Thor.”

“Yes, Thor, well, um, where are you?”

“Is there something the matter?” He asks as his tone turns dire. “Where are you, little one?”

You ignore the question tossed back at you and clear your throat. “Um, it’s about... um, I think it would be best if we had this discussion face to face but Mr. Stark told me to pass on some news and yeah... I’d like to meet up if poss--”

“Little one!” Thor appears before you, out of breath, his phone clutched in his hand. He didn’t hear a damn thing you just said. You smile. You’ve trained that expression so well, it’s almost believable. “Where is the danger?”

You almost laugh. It’s endearing to have him so concerned. You doubt his brother will be as accommodating.

“Hi, uh, like I said, it’s nothing serious. It’s erm, do you know where you brother is?” Your voice hits a pitch so high it makes your ears hurt.

“Ugh, what has he done now? I swear, I’ve told him--”

“It’s nothing he’s done. Well, it’s kind of it. Okay, um, Thor, I need to talk to your brother.”

“Loki? You need to talk to him? No one wants to talk to Loki,” he narrows his eyes in consternation.

“Yes, well, I have a job to do. I’d also appreciate if you’d be there to, you know, act as mediator,” you make yourself small as you push your shoulders up to your ears. “Please?”

“Of course, little one, of course, let us go find that snake!” He grabs your arm before you can react and almost has you off your feet as he drags you down the hall. “I left him in the lobby. He isn’t fond of this place.”

Maybe that will make this all easier, you think.

Thor doesn’t slow down. You stumble with him as you struggle to keep your shoes from falling off. You tap his arm as you get to the elevator.

“Really, we can take our time,” you assure him as he jams his finger into the down button.

You’re really in no hurry for any of this. You’re almost hoping that if you put this off longer, someone else might just come along and tell them for you. You know that won’t happen but you can hope. Even so, Tony has more important things to do and as usual, you’re left with his grunt work.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #series #drabble #long snake moan #au #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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outoftheseine · 10 months

Text

- SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY FIC RECS -

a lot of dad!simon fics here. i am not sorry. i want to bear this man's child(ren) | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

haunted | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (heavy angst, tw: depression, drugs, addiction suicide, toxic relationship, please read the warnings!)

too old for you | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x medic!fem!reader

↳ by @lunarw0rks (smut, hurt/comfort, age-gap)

soft spot • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @cordeliawhohung

the red means, i love you • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader x john 'soap' mactavish

↳ by @thewriterg

smashing pumpkins • simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!fem!reader

↳ by @qwimchii

last kiss | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (angst, unestablished relationship, smut, fluff)

secret lovers | part 2 • husband!simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

↳ by @savemefromanepicoftimewasted

my baby swingin' • biker!simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @tojisun (very sexy biker!simon, smut, fluff)

happiness • simon 'ghost' riley x wife!fem!reader

↳ by @lethalchiralium (i feel so fuzzy when i read this series, fluff, sometimes angst, some tw be aware)

i'm with you | keep you close • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @undercoverpena (angst, feelings, explicit)

being yelled at by ghost | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @hxltic (angst! simon is an asshole)

northern attitude | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst)

lights on • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @peachesofteal (single mom!reader, fluff, slight angst, protective!simon)

one night stand | part 2 | part 3 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @cmncisspnandmore

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

break in, break down • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @hyperactively-me (home invasion, comfort, fluff)

his girls • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

one fucking mistake • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @codfanficedits (very angsty, hurt but no comfort for a whilez grieving, tw:depression)

book boyfriend • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @stargirlrchive (fluff)

lime-sized • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (pregnant!reader, very fluffy)

bloodied bullets, soft confessions • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @ghosts-cyphera (a little mean!simon, hurt/comfort, injuries, fluffy end)

monster • neighbor!simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @rowarn (smut, protective!simon, zombie au)

unmasked love • simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @springtyme (so so so cute! dad!simon)

adoration • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (dad!simon, fluff)

simon 'ghost' riley x sensitive!gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff and nswf content)

this chapter is over • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @colonelarr0w (character death, angst, injuries, some fluff)

simon says • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (smut)

salt in an old wound • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!oc!reader

↳ by @ghouljams (hurt/comfort, explicit content, fae au)

blood on my shirt, rose in my hand • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @alwaysshallow (friends to lovers, the continuation is on ao3!)

antique soldiers • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @mangowafflesss

why? • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, slightly explicit at the end)

cold but warm • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

pretty pink flowers and bloody cherry blossom tree • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @underscorewriting (really really angsty, ugly cried)

for the last time • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @wttcsms (pregnant!reader, mentions of death, angst but fluff)

welcome home • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @nastybuckybarnes (home invasion, arguing, fluff)

medical leave • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kib-ble (mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff)

no more stars left to count • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @lvlyghost (angst, hurt/comfort)

protective • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @ponyosmom35 (medic!reader, protective!simon, tw: sexual harassement)

return • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @bruhrobs (fluff, colleagues to lovers, single mom!reader)

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devilmademewriteit · 1 year

Note

Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!

You Can Be the Boss

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).

Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !

more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)

-em<3

—

“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”

- You Can Be the Boss

—

It was still a secret, after all.

Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.

Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.

Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.

“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.

A quick zip, then footsteps.

“Oh, sorry man—”

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”

It’s your father.

You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.

“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”

Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.

Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.

Not fair.

If only there was a way to even out the playing field.

Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.

And you get an idea.

The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.

So your pussy drips just thinking about it.

Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.

It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.

Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.

“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”

Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”

You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.

“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”

Trouble? You’re looking at him.

Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.

You want to make him lie through his teeth.

You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.

While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.

“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”

You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.

It hasn’t.

Of course it hasn’t.

Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”

Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.

You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.

And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.

“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.

“A heavy hand.”

You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.

Like he always did. Like he always does.

“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”

“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.

Making his point.

You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.

Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.

He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”

A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.

Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.

Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.

You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.

You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.

They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.

“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.

Dangerous.

And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.

“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”

Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.

His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.

“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.

You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.

“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”

And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.

—

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

AO3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #Joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou #request for em’s answering machine: answered<3

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just-a-fluffy-knight · 2 months

Text

Wolverine Tickle-Cannons!

My Deadpool headcannons can be found >>here!!<<

A/N: yeah uhhhhhh no one look at these /j 😭😭 I am aware that I have requests to get to but I do not have enough motivation to complete a fic rn and Deadpool and Wolverine is all I can think about right now sooooo here’s a lil bit of food for y’all 🤲🏻

Another thing: These headcannons are for Deadpool 3 Wolverine only, as I haven’t seen any other movies with him in 😞 so these may not even be accurate and incredibly ooc butttttt oh well :3

⚠️ Another thing!! These do contain minor spoilers soooo feel free to come back to this later 👋🏻 Hope y’all like these!! :]] ⚠️

@neppy-34 I apologise I stole some of your ideas we shared feel free to sue me 😞🙏🏻 /lh

Lee:

Yk what??? Fuck you /pos *slams down a bunch of possibly ooc headcannons*

HES TOO GRUMPY I NEED HIM TO SMILEEEEE

Definitely deadpans you like in the gif above if you ask him the dreaded “are you twordish?” question

But he is :]

Like we’ve all seen that X-Men scene that reveals his stomach is ticklish right??

ALSO. HIS FUCKIN LAUGH HERE (scene from the movie used)

THE WHEEZE AND THE SNORT JUST AUGH (imma get him)

His weak spots are definitely his belly and ribs but I feel like Wade would also scratch behind his ears or under his chin to be an asshole

“Whosh a snorty wittle honey badger, huuuuh? You are! Yes, you are-!”

“SHUT THE FUHUCK UP!”

To add onto this he also cusses like a sailor when getting wrecked

Acts incredibly pissy before, during and after getting wrecked, but lets out these like…. content little growls JSJSGAHSHD IDEK ANYMORE DUDE

Will definitely need to restrain him if you don’t wanna accidentally get sliced by his claws or kicked across the room

Like he definitely cut Wade’s hands off once and he was like

“…Bud I kinda need those to do this-“

“Why the hell do you think I just did that?”

ALSO ALSO the scene in the bar where he was drunk?? Bro literally giggled omg

So he’s definitely an easier target if he’s drunk like his claws barely come out and he smiles so much more 😭❤️

But once he sobers up he acts way more grumpy than he usually does, claiming he doesn’t remember any of that shit even though he does VIVIDLY-

Okay one final thing Wade definitely carries him like a bride to milk the joke that he’s short asf in the comics

Ler:

Y’KNOW WHAT?? FUCK YOU AGAIN /pos (slams down even MORE possibly ooc headcannons)

Okay lemme just start with the gif above??

Like that’s literally him if you’re being annoying and he’s trying so hard to just deal with it but then you drop one joke that really riles him up

“…Okay, that’s it, you little shit-“

Okay I feel like this is something that you’d really have to get his playful side out for him to do, but the scene where he dashes towards Wade on all fours??

Yeah he’d do that in a chase

Like specifically to scare Wade

“Oh, we’re gonna do this? Fine, let’s fuckin go.” *gets down and SCARPERS*

“*SCREAM-!* HOLY SHIHIT SPIDER SOCIETY COME GEHET YOUR FUCKING BOSS-“

(yes I did drop a Miguel Ohara reference because that was the first thing I thought of watching that scene for the first time 😭)

Oh and he’ll definitely wreck Wade to tears if he’s being too irritating

Like?? There’s a way to shut him up that doesn’t involve him uselessly stabbing him because he’ll only regenerate anyway?? Fuck yeah‼️

I doubt he’d be one to tease per se, but he’s definitely a massive asshole about wrecking you

“Jesus Christ, you’re loud. You mind? I’m trynna focus here.”

“This isn’t fair? Life ain’t fair. You’re the one who decided to mouth me off, so who’s really at fault here?”

HED ALSO DO THIS THING WHERE while he’s wrecking you he’ll suddenly stop and be like

“So? You ready to stop being a jackass?”

But you’re still too giggly and busy trying to get your breath back to respond so he’ll go

“No? Alright, suit yourself.”

Buuuuuut sometimes you may catch him smirking or chuckling at how much you’re laughing your ass off :]

Raspberries and tickle bites?

………………….yes

Like bro look at those fuckin MUTTONCHOPS

They would tickle so bad omfg

Like imagine him growling into your neck or belly or AUGHSHSHAHA

okay I’m done

And as a lil bonus here’s some more silly ideas involving ‘The Greatest Showman’ references because we both thought that shit was hilarious 😭😭

AAAAAA hope you guys liked these I am very insane about Deadpool and Wolverine if you couldn’t tell :33

#sfw tickling community #deadpool and wolverine tickles #lee!wolverine #ler!wolverine #lee!loganhowlett #ler!loganhowlett #my writing 🌙✍️

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k2padfoot · 8 months

Text

Perfect

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.

warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).

A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!

“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”

“Look at her chicken legs.”

“Does she even eat anything?”

“She looks anorexic.”

“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”

When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.

It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.

You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.

You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.

The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.

Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.

You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.

A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.

A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”

In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”

A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.

You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.

After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.

“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.

“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll join you.”

A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”

Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.

“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.

Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.

Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.

When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.

After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.

Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.

In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.

As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.

Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs.

“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.

At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.

“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.

“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.

A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”

A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.

“W-What?”

He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”

Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—

“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”

In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.

Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.

As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.

“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.

You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”

“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.

You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”

A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”

“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.

“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.

You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”

He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.

He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.

After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.

“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.

Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”

“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.

“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.

You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”

Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.

“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.

“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.

The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.

Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”

Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.

“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.

“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion

You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.

“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.

A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.

Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—

“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.

He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”

Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.

His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.

“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”

Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”

He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.

A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.

He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.

Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”

Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.

“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.

“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.

Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.

When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.

“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.

After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”

The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.

Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”

Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—

“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.

Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”

A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.

As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”

A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.

You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 12: It Doesn’t Need to Mean Anything

You and Joel take Sarah to the concert. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 11, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Joel and Goldie are still morons. Also... mild smut 🫠 Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 10.7K (no one look at me)

A/N: So much thanks to my beautiful bestie @dundienominee, official Swiftie Consultant for this chapter. She was integral to song selection and Eras Tour outfit choices because I am too casual of a fan to have the knowledge to do that well. Thank you thank you thank you for this and for always letting me bounce the angstiest shit off you, Bestie! Love you!!

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You stopped sleeping over at Joel’s.

The distance took more adjustment than you’d expected and it wasn’t something either of you had explicitly stated, it just felt… necessary. You were getting too close to Joel - not something you would have even considered possible, once upon a time - and you needed to pull back before you ended up wounded and alone like you’d been more than a decade earlier.

He began separating from you that night, when his hand was still holding your face and your body was still tight against his. You kissed him until he pulled away - not wanting it to end - and when he finally broke the kiss, your faces stayed close together for a moment, close enough that your noses touched and you could see the reflection from the sparks of the fireworks in his eyes. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his palm at the small of your back, the roughness of the callus under his fingers at the nape of your neck. If someone had asked you, in that moment, where you were, you couldn’t have told them.

And then a gunshot cracked through the air, making the both of you jump and shock away from each other.

“Fuckin’ assholes,” Joel snapped, looking around as though there was anyone else around you at the water’s edge to blame. “Shit’s dangerous and there are still idiots who decide to shoot guns in the air just because the goddamn calendar changed, fuckin’ morons…”

There were a few feet between you now and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were in pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt and your nipples were pricked from the cold and the kiss and probably visible through the thin cotton. You crossed your arms over your chest, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“At least we’re in the middle of nowhere,” you said. “Less chance of the bullet falling on a person…”

“Still,” he muttered, crossing his arms too. “Makes me nervous. Dumbasses like that should have their guns taken away, don’t act right…”

You tightened your jaw but nodded, still watching him.

“Sorry,” he said. You weren’t sure why. “We should probably get back inside, though. Gotta get the kid to bed, she’s cranky if she don’t get enough sleep….”

“Can’t have a cranky Sarah,” you smiled a little.

Joel looked at you for a moment and, for a delusional second, you half expected him to kiss you again. Then, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his flannel pants and rocked back on his heels once before starting up the hill toward the house. For the first few steps, he walked to the side almost as much as he did forward, until there was a good five feet between the two of you. You ignored the pang of hurt inside your chest and gave him a tight smile as he held the back door open for you, finding Tommy and Sarah on their feet and yelling at the TV as they raced in Mario Kart.

He sat as far from you as he could at breakfast the next morning, taking the spot beside Sarah and across from Tommy at the kitchen table and pressing himself against the wall in the hallway when you ran into him there and needed past, making sure your body didn’t so much as brush against his the rest of the holiday weekend.

When you went back to normal life, it reminded you of the few days after Joel had accidentally seen your shirtless selfie: radio silence.

This time, you refused to crack first. If he regretting kissing you, that was on him. It wasn’t like you’d begged him to. Hell, you hadn’t even asked him to. He’d offered - after kissing you out of the blue just the day before no less - and now he couldn’t even look at you. Or text you, apparently.

But you were starting to get a few steps beyond anxious when you still hadn’t heard from him by Friday afternoon. You hadn’t spent a weekend without Joel since you’d found each other again. You weren’t really sure what to do with yourself if you weren’t with Joel. Even though there was definitely a book you should be writing, doing that when you weren’t sure where you stood with your best friend seemed impossible.

Still determined to not be the first one to reach out but not willing to face the prospect of being alone in your house with your cat - and with the temptation to call your almost ex-husband who actually had texted you since you’d last seen him - you got on Tinder.

You swiped during a break between classes after triple checking that your age parameters wouldn’t catch any students, largely striking out until you found Stephen’s profile. He was a professor, too, but at Austin Community College. There was a picture of him in Napa Valley in his profile and one of him with a little girl (one he said was his niece) sitting on his shoulders. You smiled at that. You didn’t think you’d ever have children - though, really, you wanted some - but there was something about knowing a man was good with kids…

You swiped right and got the alert that it was a match. He’d already swiped on you. Your heart sped up a little. Maybe you weren’t completely undatable, after all.

Stephen messaged you just a few minutes later.

Hi! How’s your Friday?

You were working on typing a reply when another message popped up.

Not to be a creep but… are you really who you say you are?

You frowned at your phone for a moment.

Hi back! It’s alright for the first Friday of a new semester. How about you? And yes, the last time I checked. Why?

It took him a little longer to respond that time.

Let me know if I’m failing on the creep front but I may be what you call a fan.

You laughed once.

A fan?

A fan. Your writing is brilliant, I can’t help it.

Well, I have good editors.

I’m sure you do but editors only get you so far. Trust me, I teach the intro English classes, I know.

You laughed again and the two of you messaged back and forth until you had to go teach your last class of the day. When you finished, you checked your phone before leaving the lecture hall and there was a message waiting for you.

I hope this isn’t too fast but can I take you out tomorrow? I’m sure you already have plans but on the off chance you don’t…

You smiled.

No plans that don’t involve my cat. What did you have in mind?

Stephen, as it happened, had plenty in mind.

After getting a drink and chatting for a bit, he took you to salsa dancing night, something you’d never had thought to do yourself in a million years. The music was loud, the room was crowded and the energy of it all made your skin pebble as you smiled.

“C’mon,” he held his hand out to you. “Let’s dance.”

“Oh, no,” you waved him off. “I can’t.”

“I’ll show you,” he smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

He led you to a quiet corner of the dance floor and showed you the most basic steps and you let him guide you through it as you watched your feet and tried not to step on his toes. By the end, you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe and he was laughing, too, putting an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to a booth in the corner.

Stephen got you a cocktail and settled in across from you, the two of you talking about the semester so far and books and your favorite places to travel.

You were surprised to find that you were having… well, fun. You hadn’t really had fun out with someone who wasn’t Joel in so long the concept seemed almost foreign to you. And Stephen was smart, you had shared interests, he was sweet and funny and insightful. You liked him.

But… he wasn’t Joel.

That was the thought you were trying to shake when he left you alone at the table, excusing himself to the bathroom and to grab another round of drinks and you decided to check your phone.

Gale had texted you, seeing if you wanted to get coffee. Like the last few texts he’d sent, you didn’t respond. You knew, if you did, you’d end up back in his bed and you’d never be able to move on from him, not really. Hell, you’d let yourself become the other woman while he carried on with your younger, prettier, thinner replacement, keeping her on his arm at every faculty event and book release he used to bring you to while fucking you on the side. A mistress to your own husband. Pathetic.

But the temptation to respond was still there. If there was one man besides Joel who’d been able to hold your attention, it was Gale. When you’d met him, you hadn’t been sure you’d ever recover from loving Joel. It seemed like he would be there, as some part of you, forever. And that was true, he never really left. It was more that you seemed to find room inside yourself to love someone who wasn’t Joel. You realized now that it hadn’t been able to love him as much as you did Joel - or even, really, in the same way - but you did love him. That, now that you were faced with the intensity of how Joel seemed to take hold of you, seemed miraculous. You didn’t expect to find that feeling again so easily.

You looked toward the bathrooms, where you knew Stephen had disappeared to. Stephen, the man who you had every reason to have feelings for, who had taken you out for a great date, who could be someone that could pull you out of this hideous pattern with Joel and Gale if you just gave him the chance.

You sighed and closed your texts just as a new one came through, this one from Joel.

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t heard from him in so long that just seeing his name hit you hard. You glanced up. Stephen was just coming out of the men’s room and heading for the bar.

You opened the text.

This radio silence shit sucks.

You scoffed a little.

You started it.

He responded immediately.

You at home? Come over. Sarah’s about to go to bed, we can watch the next Curtis and Viper commentary in the marathon.

Sorry, I can’t tonight.

You looked up to the bar again, Stephen still waiting to talk to the bartender. By the time you looked back down at your phone, Joel had texted back.

Why not? Puck will behave for a few hours, promise.

You frowned.

Believe it or not, I’m not home with my cat on a Saturday night.

Bullshit.

Is not. I’m on a date, actually. I do have a life outside of you, you know.

Stephen was just getting to the bar to order when your phone screen lit up, Joel sticking his tongue out at you taking over the whole of it as he called you.

You sighed and answered it.

“Hi.”

“Who the fuck are you on a date with?” Joel demanded. “It had better not be fucking Brad…”

“So good to hear from you,” you said. “How have you been for the past, I don’t know, WEEK.”

“Five days. Answer the question, Goldie,” he said. “Are you out with your goddamn husband?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m out with a guy named Stephen, he’s very nice actually…”

“Who the fuck is Stephen?”

“I met him on Tinder, thank you very much,” you said.

“What?” Joel said and you could picture him leaning forward on his couch, his elbow on his knee. “Wait, when? I didn’t vet some fucker named Stephen…”

“You don’t get to vet people when you don’t talk to me for a week,” you hissed into the phone, glancing at the bar to see Stephen paying for the drinks. “Besides, I don’t need you to review my damn dates like some kind of baby sitter…”

“Five days. And you have shit taste in men,” he cut you off. “So yeah, you do.”

“Yeah, well, when you ghost me…”

“I didn’t fuckin’ ghost you!”

“When you GHOST me for a week…”

“Five days!”

“…you don’t get to judge me for my life choices!”

“I didn’t ghost you,” he snapped. “I thought we could both use a little space…”

“Uh huh.”

“And I didn’t think you’d do something stupid when I left you unsupervised for 30 goddamn seconds!”

“OK this isn’t stupid,” you said. “He’s a nice guy, he’s an English professor who likes wine and has actually asked me questions about myself…”

“Look at you go.”

“Fuck off,” you said, watching as Stephen headed back to the table with drinks. “He’s coming back, I have to go.”

“No, hold on…”

“Bye!”

You hung up and slapped the phone face down on the table with a little too much force as Stephen smiled, setting your cocktail in front of you.

“If that’s a friend calling to get you out of this, I promise I won’t give you a hard time,” he said, a slightly teasing edge to his voice.

“No,” you laughed. “Well, I mean, it is a friend but no, not calling to get me out of it. Just a friend with a history of just the worst timing and a total inability to read the room.”

“She sounds great,” he laughed back.

You didn’t correct him on the gender, instead just laughing with him and taking a sip of your drink.

The two of you closed the bar down and went to Waffle House after, sitting on opposite sides of the booth so you could stretch out and put your feet up as you pushed your syrup soaked chocolate chip waffle around on your plate.

“So,” you said as you watched Stephen from across the table. “Not to put a damper on things but… I feel like you should know that I’m not looking for anything too serious right now…”

“Oh,” Stephen frowned a little. “Can… Can I ask why?”

“My life is kind of complicated at the moment?” You said it more like a question, as though the difficulties were somehow negotiable. “My divorce isn’t finalized yet, my sister is pregnant and I’m her only support system, I have a book deadline later this year…” I can’t stop thinking about kissing my best friend. You didn’t say that. “I don’t feel like I can really be a great partner to anyone right now. But I would like someone I can have fun with when I can? If you’re OK with that?”

He nodded slowly, looking at his mug of coffee for a moment.

“Do you know how long it’s going to be complicated?” He asked. “Just… Cards on the table, I already really like you. I don’t want to get in over my head here.”

“Another few months at least,” you said. “But not forever. At least, I hope not forever.”

He nodded again, turning his mug slowly on the table and you watched as the handle went back and forth.

“I can handle a few months,” he said eventually, looking over at you.

You smiled a little, wishing that him saying that made your heart pick up the way it did when Joel touched you.

“Good,” you said. “Me too.”

When the two of you left the restaurant, he went to kiss you goodbye but you dodged it, kissing him on the cheek instead. By the time you were home, you had a flurry of texts from Joel, the last one demanding to know when you made it home safely.

I’m home, you control freak.

It was so late you didn’t expect a response but one came through anyway as you stood at your bathroom sink taking off your makeup.

Glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.

Why are you still up? Go to BED!

I can’t sleep if I know you’re out there with some random!

You rolled your eyes.

Well now that you know no one has stuffed me in the trunk of their car…

I’ll try to care less in the future.

“Jesus,” you muttered to yourself as Joel texted again.

Lunch tomorrow?

Tomorrow Sunday or tomorrow Monday? You wrote. It’s after midnight.

Lunch Sunday, he said stop being a dick.

You laughed a little at that. At least things weren’t that different, even if you wished they were.

Lunch the next day felt normal, even as Joel demanded to see Stephen’s Tinder profile and look at some of his messages. Most things went back to normal after that, too. Everything except for the sleepovers.

But now that you were getting ready to leave for Dallas for the concert, you were nervous. You had one hotel room, a small suite the two of you had picked out together, one with two beds in the bedroom and a pull out sofa in the living room. When you were booking the trip, it made sense. Sarah could sleep in a bed with either of you or in the living room on her own and either way, you and Joel wouldn’t be beholden to the bedtime of an 11-year-old. It’s not like you needed space from each other then.

Now, things felt different. It had been three months since you’d last shared a room with Joel. The casual intimacy that had existed between you had evaporated like mist and you wondered if it had always been a causal, ephemeral thing even when it had felt so grounding.

At least, you thought, you’d have the separate beds. You’d booked the room before sharing a bed was quite so commonplace in your friendship. At least you wouldn’t need to be quite that close to him knowing how he felt about it. That was a comfort.

And you were looking forward to some distance from your sister. Now that she was getting closer to her due date, you were together all the time. From lamaze classes to parenting seminars to going with her to AA and NA meetings as moral support, you were with Anna more now than you had been since the two of you were girls and it was summer vacation and you had nothing else to do.

“I swear to God that one old mom thinks we’re a couple,” she snickered as the two of you got pancakes after a lamaze class one day.

“What?” You gaped at her. “Ew!”

“Oh, for sure,” she said, reaching over and stealing a piece of bacon off your plate. You glared at her and she shrugged. “What? I’m eating for two.”

“Uh huh.”

“But she definitely thinks we’re lesbians,” she continued. “She was giving me the stink eye before you came in today. I think she thinks you’re the scary one, by the way, because she definitely stopped when you got there.”

“Jesus,” you shuddered. “Wrong on so many levels. One, you’re my baby sister and that’s just gross. Two, you are definitely the scary one.”

“Oh, for sure,” Anna nodded seriously and then laughed. “Besides, if you were my girlfriend I definitely wouldn’t be letting you run off with some old flame for the weekend…”

“Joel is not an old flame,” you rolled your eyes.

“Sure,” she said in a teasing tone. “And Stephen is fine with this?”

“Stephen doesn’t get a say in what I do,” you replied. “We’re just seeing each other now and then, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, giving you a look that you weren’t sure you wanted to deal with.

You hadn’t told her about the kiss with Joel. You hadn’t told her about losing your virginity to Joel before you left for college, either. But somehow, she seemed to know. Your sister, for all the distance you’d forced and all the troubles she’d had, just knew.

And that made you more nervous than you should have been for spending the weekend away.

But you packed a bag - featuring a costume for the concert picked from your closet by Sarah - and headed for Joel’s, Puck in his little cat carrier on your passenger seat.

“Aunt Goldie!” Sarah rocketed out of the house, her curls flying as she ran for your car. “It’s here! We’re really going!”

“We are!” You said with a laugh, catching her as she threw herself at you. Joel followed behind her, getting your duffle from the back seat.

“Did you remember your outfit?” She asked, pulling back and looking up at you with wide eyes.

“I absolutely did,” you smiled at her before looking at her dad. “Hey Joel.”

“Goldie,” he gave you a nod. “You ready for this?”

“For a road trip with my favorite kid?” You asked. “Absolutely.”

You got Puck settled at Joel’s - his neighbors, the Adlers, promising to look in on both cats while you were away - and got loaded into Joel’s truck, a bag of snacks and cooler of drinks sitting next to Sarah in the back seat.

“We’re listening from the start of the discography,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing the input for her phone. “We need to make sure we know all the eras before we get there.”

Joel looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Whatever you say, baby girl.”

It was easy to fall into life with Sarah and Joel, even just for the few hours in the truck. Sarah dramatically performing into an imaginary microphone in the back seat, Joel reminding her to buckle back in every time she undid her seatbelt for a particularly big dance move. You stopped in West for pastries and chocolate milk and, by the time you pulled into the hotel on Friday evening, the three of you were a little hopped up on sugar and in desperate need of real food.

“Oh this place is fancy,” Sarah said, a mocking and overwrought English accent on the last word as you looked around the lobby.

“Well, needed a room with space for the three of us…” Joel said, voice trailing off as he looked for the check in counter before spotting it. “Don’t go wanderin’ off, alright? I’ll get us checked in, we can drop the bags and figure out something besides junk for dinner…”

“But I like junk” Sarah said.

“Yeah, I know you do,” he said before looking to you. “Keep her out of trouble, will you?”

“Bold of you to assume she’d be the problem.”

“Knew you’d be trouble,” he smirked a little before going to get in the check in line.

You stuck close to Sarah, who was using the short wall of the lobby garden as a balance beam as she worked out the pent up energy from the hours spent in the car.

“How many songs do you think she’ll sing?” Sarah asked after the spun on the end of the wall, her sneakers squeaking on the polished stone.

“I dunno,” you said. “Probably a lot since the concert is a few hours long.”

“I don’t want to see spoilers but my friends keep sending videos,” she said. “I haven’t watched any of them, I want to see it all in person.”

She did a jump like she was imitating a gymnast, making you instinctively reach for her, trying to hide your hiss of fear as she landed smoothly on the narrow wall. She looked at your worried expression and laughed.

“Please be careful,” you said as she started walking the wall again. “If you get yourself killed I’ll have to go through the hassle of selling these tickets online…”

Sarah snorted.

“You’d miss me,” she said, teasing.

“That too,” you smiled a little before looking toward the check in counter. Joel was at the front now but he looked to be in deep conversation with the man behind the desk. You frowned. “Stay put, kiddo.”

“Keep jumping on the wall, got it.”

You shot Sarah a glare before heading for the desk.

“No, that’s not going to work,” Joel was saying. “I booked the room I booked for a reason, I need two beds…”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” the man said. “I’m afraid we’re completely full this weekend and this is the only room I can put you in…”

“What’s happening?” You asked, eyebrows knitting together and looking between them.

“They don’t have the room we picked,” Joel said, eyes darting quickly to you, almost like he was afraid to look at you. “They only have rooms with one bed…”

“Wait, what?” You looked at the man behind the counter. “Seriously? We have a confirmation number, we…”

“I know, and I apologize,” he said. “With the concerts, we’re booked solid this weekend and there must have been a mixup with an earlier check in. I can’t move someone who’s already checked in. I already looked at our sister property across town but they’re completely full, too…”

Joel looked at you, his eyes a little wider than you were used to seeing them. Almost like he was going to panic at just the thought of sharing a bed with you.

“We can make it work, right?” You said, watching him. “I mean… it’s not that bad, is it?”

“Right,” Joel said. “Yeah, you’re right…”

He turned back to the man.

“I guess we’ll take it,” he said. “Three keys, please.”

Your stomach knotted a little. You knew the situation was less than ideal, that the two of you had been actively avoiding that level of contact in the months since the new year, but it’s not as though you’d never shared a bed. Was kissing you really so bad that Joel was on the verge of a panic at the thought of sleeping next to you for two nights?

Maybe it was. Maybe you hadn’t fully understood his level of disgust at it.

You weren’t stupid, after all. You knew what he thought about kissing you. And if you hadn’t already known, you knew for sure when you overheard him talking to Tommy about it.

“It was a mistake,” he’d said when he thought you couldn’t hear. “It won’t happen again, I’m done doing stupid shit with her and then regretting it…”

Being close to you - touching you - was stupid shit. Even under the guise of friendship it was stupid shit. That had stung.

It shouldn’t have.

You’d known he felt that way, you had for years. It shouldn’t have made your chest tighten and your stomach turn the way it did. He’d made it clear - since the first time the two of you had ever done anything physical - that it was a mistake. You weren’t about to risk losing him by pressing it, no matter how much you wanted to scream that he was the one who kissed you, not the other way around.

But, you supposed, it didn’t really matter. If he didn’t want you that close to him, you weren’t about to force it on him. He was still happy enough to be your friend, even if he didn’t want to sleep next to you anymore. That was fine. You could live with that. And you could share a bed with him for a weekend without blurring that line again.

Joel got the keys and you got Sarah from her makeshift balance beam before heading up to the room. He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot on the elevator ride up and you tried to keep from grinding your teeth as Sarah bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet, shooting off like a rocket the second the doors opened.

“Room 1521!” Joel called after her as she took off down the hall. “Jesus, I swear that kid has the energy to power a small city…”

She beat you there and Joel handed her a key and Sarah did the honors of letting you into the room.

“Oh cool!” She squealed, running in. “I get the couch bed right?”

“Uh…” Joel’s eyes darted to you.

“There’s a TV by it!” She ran to it. “Oh and the fridge is in this room! This one’s mine!”

You just shrugged at him and he sighed.

“Sure is, baby girl,” he said. “You wanna get changed before we go get something to eat?”

“Nope!” She said, kicking off her shoes and jumping from couch cushion to couch cushion. “But if we get back early enough, can we go swimming?”

“Sure,” Joel said. “Give me n’Goldie a minute and we’ll head out…”

You gave Joel a tight smile and led the way to the bedroom.

The bed, at least, was a king sized one, bigger than yours or Joel’s at home. You could keep to your separate sides of it well enough.

“I’ll take the side by the door,” he said. You were about to protest - that was the right side of the bed and he always slept on the left - but kept your mouth shut. You didn’t have a side of the bed with Joel. Or, you shouldn’t, anyway. “Did you need to change?”

“Just out of these leggings,” you said. “I only need a minute.”

“Right,” he said. “I gotta use the bathroom anyway, so…”

He stood there, awkward, for a moment before heading to the attached bathroom. You set your bag on the long, low dresser and unzipped it, rifling around for a moment until you found your jeans. You peeled off your leggings and folded them up, setting them beside your bag when your phone started vibrating in your jacket pocket.

You frowned. You almost never got phone calls. You pulled your phone out and saw Anna’s ID picture and you answered quickly.

“Anna?” You said, heart racing. “Is everything OK? Are you OK? Is the baby OK?”

“What?” She asked. “Yeah, everything’s fine, why wouldn’t it be?”

You relaxed a little.

“You just don’t usually call,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean freak you out. I just got an email from the OBGYN, they need to move my scan next week, can you do Wednesday afternoon?”

“Is Thursday an option?” You asked. “I have more afternoon classes on Wednesdays…”

“You decent?” Joel called from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Looks like they have Thursday,” Anna said.

“Hang on!” You called to Joel, still standing there in your pale pink satin panties, before turning your attention back to Anna. “Thursday is better, just let me know a time and I can adjust some office hours.”

“Great!” She said. “I’ll text you the details. Have fun at the concert!”

You were about to say your goodbyes when the bathroom door opened and, suddenly, you were standing there in your underwear in front of your best friend.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, Joel’s eyes wide and ranging over you as you stood, frozen with your phone clutched to the side of your head.

“Sorry!” Joel said quickly, turning around as you scrambled to hang up the phone and cover yourself.

“I said hang on!” You said, grabbing your jeans. Joel glanced back over his shoulder before whipping his head back around.

“I thought you said come on!” He said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping into the pants as quickly as you could, trying to wrestle the denim quickly over the swell of your ass before buttoning them. “There, you’re safe.”

“Sorry,” he said again, turning around cautiously. As though you were a grenade that might explode if he caught a glimpse of your bared skin. “I wasn’t trying… I’m sorry.”

“I said it’s fine,” you grabbed your purse. “Let’s get something besides junk food in Sarah otherwise I’m sure we’re going to pay for it later.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Let’s go.”

Joel was still tense next to you at dinner and you damn near chugged a glass of wine in the hopes it would help untie the knot in your stomach.

Thankfully, you’d brought beer in the cooler from Austin and you grabbed two of them - putting the cans in koozies to cover the labels - when taking Sarah to the pool after dinner. The two of you sat and watched her play with other girls who, you assumed, were also in town for the concert.

Joel relaxed a little then, just the two of you tucked into a corner of the hot tub with a beer in his hand.

“Who knew I’d feel so old at 33,” he groaned a little, leaning his head back so it rested on the edge of the hot tub. “Just drove a few hours and I’m already wonderin’ how I’m gonna keep up with her tomorrow.”

“We do have to keep her busy most of the day,” you smiled a little, watching as she lined up at the edge of the deep end of the pool next to three other girls. They jumped in one by one, each girl doing some kind of dramatic twist or funny hand gesture as they fell toward the water, shrieking and laughing as they came up for air. “It’s going to be a challenge.”

“Thanks for doin’ this,” he said, tone more serious as he looked at you. “It really does mean a lot. We don’t have a lot of people, always felt like I’ve let her down by not having more. I’m glad she’s got someone else who cares about her, you know?”

You smiled a little.

“Of course I care about her,” you said. “She means the world to me. You both do.”

His eyes traced your face and your heart beat a little faster in spite of yourself.

“Hey Dad!” Sarah called, pulling you away from each other. “Aunt Goldie! Watch this!”

“We’re watchin’!” Joel called back.

Sarah looked to her new friend - a girl who looked to be about her age with red hair in a braid down her back - and they gave each other a nod before running for the edge of the pool and jumping for the water, the girls twisting in the air to slap each other’s hands before they splashed down. You laughed and clapped as they surfaced, Sarah beaming.

“Looks great, baby girl,” Joel said. “But no runnin’ by the pool, just like at home. It’s not safe.”

Sarah rolled her eyes as she swam to the side of the pool and going back to her new found friends.

Things felt almost normal as the three of you headed back to the room, towels over your shoulders and a trail of water behind you in the elevators. Sarah settled quickly once you were back in the hotel room, Joel telling her she couldn’t have any more soda or juice after she brushed her teeth but he did let her pick a movie to put on the TV as she settled into the pull out couch, looking like she was getting away with something as she watched Legally Blonde from her bed.

Joel stayed in the bathroom far longer than you thought he’d need to as you both got changed into pajamas. You’d seen him go through his nighttime routine enough times, you knew he was trying to make sure he didn’t accidentally see you in your panties again.

You had, at least, planned ahead for sharing a room with Joel, packing a fairly conservative set of sleep shorts with a matching shirt and changing quickly so you could spare him the sight. You climbed in bed when you were done, staying as far on your side as you could reach, a book propped open on your knees.

Joel knocked before opening the door, anyway, and you winced as you replied.

“You’re safe,” you said. He still opened the door cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw you tucked below the covers. You smiled tightly at him as he climbed in bed beside you, his curls still damp from the pool. You tried not to just look at him - you shouldn’t want to just look at him, he was your friend - as he got settled and scrolled his phone for a moment before he looked toward you.

“Want to watch a shitty movie?”

“God, yes,” you said, putting your bookmark in.

Joel laughed a little and turned the TV on, finding the Hallmark channel with some particularly insipid movie you didn’t need to know the plot of to keep up with, even coming in half way through.

By the time it was over, the two of you had drifted closer on the bed, both of you a little breathless from laughter. You turned out the lights and lay down, more beside each other than against each other, and you stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying not to think about the fact that the warmth soaking into you came from Joel.

“M’sorry about the room mix up,” he said quietly into the dark. “I hope it’s not… I don’t want you to feel weird.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “It’s fine.”

“Good,” he said. “Because the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable…”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, either,” your voice dropped low enough that it was almost a whisper.

“You don’t,” he said, almost as fast as you’d responded to him.

“Good,” you said after a moment. “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Night, Goldie.”

***

Joel had a hard-on when he woke up.

A goddamn boner pressed against his best friend’s ass, an ass he’d seen barely concealed by the softest looking fucking satin or silk or whatever the fuck women’s panties were made of, a sight he couldn’t seem to shake. Not that it was that different from seeing you in a swim suit but there was something about the intimacy of seeing you in a state of undress when he knew - or was pretty damn sure, anyway - that he was the only man who’d seen you that way in months. He liked that sight being reserved just for him.

He needed to get the fuck over that.

He was trying to. Really, truly, sincerely he was trying. He’d managed to get some distance from you - though that had helped less than he really expected. But he couldn’t bring himself to just cut you off.

Even though that would probably be the smart thing to do.

Clearly you didn’t feel for him the way he felt for you. He’d kissed you - twice - and you acted like it was nothing. Hell, you’d jumped on Tinder as soon as you got home from the cabin and found fucking Stephen. His stomach had twisted in on itself when he saw that text. Consciously, he knew you didn’t feel the same way he did but fuck, he’d hoped it would take you longer than a few days to do something like resort to Tinder after he kissed you.

And now here he was, his dick against your ass as you slept tucked against him. He wondered what had done it. Had he dreamed about you and those pink little panties only to forget it when he woke? Had he just felt your body against him as you slept, all curved back into him and making your home against his torso with your legs all tucked up toward your stomach so the lush of your ass was nestled right against his cock? Had he just smelled your hair from where you’d moved in the night, the scent of you all close and beautiful driving him to a step beyond wanting?

It didn’t really matter, he supposed. All that mattered now was making sure you didn’t know it happened.

He adjusted himself delicately, his cock aching and leaky in the cotton of his pajama pants, rolling slowly onto his back and leaving the arm you were currently using as a pillow below your head. Joel tried to gently extract his arm, hoping he could make it to the bathroom and - after locking the doors - jerking off fast and hard to the memory of you in those little panties

No such luck. You stirred then, uncoiling yourself and stretching out with a satisfied little moan that seemed to have a direct line to his hard cock, making it twitch in the confines of his pants.

“Morning,” you said, voice groggy as you adjusted, lifting off his arm and arching your back before relaxing down into the mattress. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cramp your space…”

“S’fine,” Joel said quickly. The two of you lay in awkward quiet for a moment. “Should probably get movin’…”

“Yup,” you said, getting up quickly. “Big day ahead of us.”

The three of you got ready to go - Sarah already eager to get into her concert outfit and you had to talk her down - before heading to breakfast. Joel just watched you and Sarah talk about her favorite song lyrics over bacon and eggs and wondered how the hell he was supposed to move on from you when you were like this with his daughter.

You went to the aquarium that day, you and Joel just hanging back as Sarah pressed her face against the glass at every exhibit, finding the fish she liked best and trying to learn everything she could about them.

Joel found himself watching you almost as much as he watched his daughter, the streaks of refracted light from the water catching on your eyes and skin and hair.

“What?” You asked when you caught him, a puzzled smile on your face.

“Nothin’,” he shrugged, looking toward the tank.

“OK,” you laughed a little. “Weirdo.”

“That’s me,” he smiled, shaking his head a bit.

“Well, as long as you’re aware.”

The three of you went back to the room with plenty of time to get ready and Sarah practically shoved Joel into the living room the second they were there.

“You’re a boy,” she said before she closed the door. “We have a lot more to do than you.”

There were a few seconds of quiet before the Taylor Swift started playing and Joel laughed a little, distracting himself with a phone game while you and his daughter gave each other makeovers in the bedroom.

“Dad!” Sarah poked her head out a while later.

He set the phone down.

“Yes baby girl?”

“Are you ready?” She said. “Because we have to do a fashion show.”

“Fashion show it up, kiddo,” he said. “M’ready.”

“OK, put New Romantics on,” she said. Joel frowned and she rolled her eyes. “We need a soundtrack, Dad, just do it!”

“Alright, alright,” he said, going into Spotify and finding the song. “Ready when you are.”

“Presenting the eras of Sarah and Goldie,” she said with dramatic flair before throwing the bedroom door open and jumping into the living room in a pink shirt covered in sequins and her white skort. Her hair was in two what she liked to call “space buns” on the top of her head, pink plastic hair ties holding them in place. Her springy curls were covered in glitter and she had on bright pink, sparkling eyeshadow and gem stones on her cheeks as she beamed, her arms over her head as she showed off her outfit. “I’m in my Lover era because it’s the best one, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Joel tried to keep himself from laughing. “That’s a lot of glitter, kiddo.”

“It’s a concert, Dad,” she rolled her eyes as you poked your head around the door to look into the living room and he caught a glimpse of your much darker makeup.

“It’s just a spray,” you said. “It’s supposed to wash out pretty easy.”

“No, don’t show yourself yet!” Sarah shoved you lightly back behind the door. “You have to do it all at once to get the full effect!”

“Sorry!” You called and Joel heard the hint of a laugh on the edges of your voice. “You tell me when it’s OK to come out.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said, turning back to Joel and striking a pose. “Lover is the best because it has the most pink AND it has Cruel Summer on it.”

“Sure,” Joel nodded seriously even though he had no idea what she was talking about. “You look great, baby girl. Very pink.”

She beamed.

“And now, Aunt Goldie -” she stepped to the side of the doorway and threw her arms out with a flourish - “who is in her Reputation era!”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck that meant, either. All he knew was that he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut as you stepped around the door, a sheepish look on your face as you turned in a slow circle to show off your entire outfit. You were in black jeans that hugged every curve of your legs, heeled black boots, a satiny shirt that was low cut enough that he could see a hint of the black lace bra below and a black leather jacket. Your eyes were dark and your lashes were long, your lips blazing red and all he could think about was how much he wanted to ruin that fucking lipstick. He was so busy staring at you like an idiot, he missed what Sarah was saying.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, what was that?” He asked, not looking at Sarah. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you.

“She’s in her reputation era because it’s the most badass - sorry Dad - one,” she said. “And she’s definitely badass. Sorry.”

“I tried to tell her that no, I’m definitely not,” you said. “But she wouldn’t listen.”

“Nah, she’s right,” Joel said, hoping he didn’t look like too much of a fucking idiot as he stared at you. “You…” he tried to find some way to describe you that didn’t make him sound like a dumbass. “You look great.”

You smiled a little.

“Thanks,” you said. “And what are you wearing?”

“Oh, right,” he said, getting up from the couch. “Sarah picked somethin’ for me too…”

He ducked around you into the bedroom and resisted the urge to run his hand over your stomach to the curve of your waist and pull you against him. He changed his shoes into his cowboy boots and got his cowboy hat out from its place in his bag before emerging.

“What era is this, baby girl?” He asked, his hands awkwardly shoved in the pockets of his jeans.

“That’s the evermore era,” Sarah said knowingly. Joel frowned and she rolled her eyes. “Cowboy Like Me. Duh.”

Joel saw you press your lips together as you tried not to laugh.

“Duh, yes,” Joel said.

“Oh! And…” She scampered to her bag and opened the side pocket of her duffle, pulling out fistfuls of plastic beads. “Friendship bracelets!”

She put a few on herself before holding clusters of them out to each of you.

“You’re supposed to trade them with other people at the show! I made a bunch!”

“Thank you!” You said sliding the cluster of them up your arm and turning them in the light. “I didn’t know concerts required so much prep work…”

“We ready to go?” Joel asked. “I know parking’s gonna be a nightmare…”

“Yeah!” Sarah damn near bounded toward the door. “Let’s go!”

The concert was packed, awash with bright colors and excited squeals as the three of you settled in, Sarah immediately striking up a conversation with a girl about her age in a purple dress, trading bracelets with her.

“Oh, right,” you said, leaning around Joel to see what Sarah was doing. You started looking over the mass of beads on your wrist and selecting one, passing it over to him. “This one seems good.”

Joel took it, most of the beads letters that said Call It What You Want. He made a mental note to listen to the song at some point. He smiled a little, putting it on the wrist that didn’t have any bracelets yet so he wouldn’t accidentally give it away.

“Thanks,” he said, looking at his own wrist until he found the one that made the most sense to him and handed it over before he could think better of it. “Here, in trade.”

You smiled and took it before laughing a little.

“You Belong With Me, huh?” You asked. He shrugged and you traced your thumb over the letters before sliding it on your wrist. “Thank you.”

“Dad!” Sarah grabbed his arm and held up hers. “Look! She gave me her Lover one!”

“That’s great, baby girl,” he smiled at the glittery pastel beads, Sarah’s eyes wide and bright.

It was impossible to not love how happy Sarah was here. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile quite so huge or seen her eyes quite so bright. It was like she was getting everything she had ever dreamed as she chattered away to every girl around them as they waited for the show to start. He drank it in, trying to make sure he remembered clearly, sharply how it felt to see her so happy. After a while, he looked to you to find you watching Sarah, too, a look on your face that was almost as happy as hers and you looked so beautiful he almost wasn’t tempted to look at the plush swell of your lace clad cleavage below your satin shirt.

Almost.

“What?” You laughed a little, gaze meeting his just as the lights dimmed.

“Thank you,” he said. “For wanting to make her happy.”

You just smiled gently before taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, Joel’s heart skipping a beat as everyone’s attention turned to the stage and cheered, the music starting.

He didn’t pay much attention to the music during the concert, more interested in watching Sarah have fun and you indulging her, happily dancing along with her and clapping excitedly when she did.

But there was one song in a slower section that he couldn’t help but notice. You’d been swaying along to the music and Joel had been appreciating the guitar when your head drifted over and rested on his shoulder. He froze for a moment, looking at you with the small smile on your red lips and your eyes all soft as you watched the stage and fuck he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you and he wanted it to be unlike every other time he kissed you, each of them full of driving want or couched in some pretense. Instead, he wanted to kiss you all soft and slow, gentle and earnest. He wanted to take his time and memorize the taste of you and the way your body felt when cradled against him just so.

But he couldn’t do that so he tried to focus on the song but the lyrics cut him to the quick.

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

The words were striking in their familiarity, like they’d been written just for him. It was a moment he’d had a long time ago, almost 20 years back now, a lightning bolt that made him stare straight up at his ceiling in the middle of the night, right at the spot over his bed that had some Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition model poster tacked into the popcorn plaster. The model didn’t hold a candle to you and your slow building smiles and the way you grabbed his bicep for support when you laughed.

Because he loved you.

He’d never loved anything outside of his family before but he loved you. The realization swallowed him up, swift and devastating, because he knew - even at 16 he knew - that it would never work. You were too smart, you burned too bright, you wouldn’t have your feet glued to this place the way his were. You’d move on after high school and go change the world and he’d be able to read your name in the paper and say that he knew you once.

Except he’d always assumed that, eventually, he’d move on. That he’d love something else, find some slice of that all encompassing feeling in another woman. He was just 16 then, after all. Who the fuck married someone they met in high school these days? He’d move on.

But he didn’t. He’d just poured all the love he had into his daughter until he was struck by you again and realized that no, it hadn’t faded. He still loved you in a way he’d never loved anything else and in a way he didn’t think he’d ever love anything else again and he still knew - even at 33 he knew - that it wasn’t going to work. And he couldn’t risk pressing it, not when life was this much better just because you were close.

But what was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to spend the rest of his life trying to pretend that he’d find someone else to feel this way about? Was he supposed to steep himself in this torturous proximity until he lost himself to it? Was he supposed to try to bear finding distance from you - when he couldn’t even last a few days not speaking to you - so he could manage it?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he would ever really know.

“Joel?” You stepped back from him, your eyebrows knitted together. “You OK?”

You lifted a hand and pressed the back of it to his cheek.

“M’fine,” he frowned. “Why?”

“You look pale,” you said, moving your hand to the other side of his face. “But you don’t feel warm…”

“Just gettin’ too old for the concert life,” he smiled a little. “Don’t worry about it.”

You took your hand back. He wasn’t sure if it was a kindness or a cruelty.

“Better get used to it if you’re going to start playing again,” you said, facing back toward the stage.

“Yeah,” he said, heart clenching a little. “I’d better.”

You and Sarah got him to dance and he memorized the look on Sarah’s face as the show wound down, all happiness and joy at getting exactly what she wanted.

After a seemingly endless wait for an Eras Tour t-shirt and the traffic jam to leave the parking lot, the three of you made it back to the hotel, Sarah asleep in the back seat. You went to wake her but Joel stopped you.

“I’ve got ‘er,” he said quietly, lifting her delicately from the back seat. She groggily put her arms around his neck and nuzzled into his shoulder and he smiled a little. She might be getting big but at least he could still carry his baby girl to bed.

The two of you tucked her in together before tiptoeing to the bedroom.

“Thank God I talked Sarah out of glitter for me,” you said quietly as you took your makeup off, already in your pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror. Joel tried to resist the urge to trace the curve of your legs and ass with his eyes. “I’ve barely got the energy to take this off…”

“Her hair’s gonna be a nightmare tomorrow,” he said, smiling in spite of himself.

“Yeah, but she loved it,” you looked at him in the mirror. “Worth it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Worth it.”

When you got in bed, the two of you ditched the pretense of distance that you’d started with the night before. You lay close but not touching, close enough that he could feel the warmth of you under the blankets.

“So,” you said, yawning. “How was your first concert with Sarah?”

“Anything that makes that kid that happy is great in my book,” he smiled a little, his eyes tracing the dark outline of you silhouetted in the dim city light that filtered around the curtains. “Seriously… thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of it,” Joel could hear your groggy smile on your voice. “And I had a few Christmases to make up for missing.”

He laughed lightly.

“I missed you, Joel,” you said, sounding so tired he wasn’t sure that you knew you said it.

He was quiet for a moment.

“Missed you too, Goldie. So much.”

You hummed in response before your breaths shifted to the quiet, easy cadence of sleep and Joel drifted off, letting himself savor the closeness of you.

That indulgence, he thought at first, was what sparked the dream.

You were in a hotel room with him in his head, too, but it was different. It was just the two of you and it wasn’t because you had to be. No, you were there for each other.

Joel took his time with you then. He undressed you slowly, his lips trailing over your neck and shoulder as he slid the straps of your bra down your arms. He kissed you the way he wanted to at the concert, holding you to him as his tongue dipped into your mouth and he could smell your shampoo and feel the silk of your skin below his fingers and his cock was painfully swollen. His kiss grew more desperate, desire shifting to necessity. He was drawn hot and tight inside his skin and wanting you was a distant memory now because he was far beyond that. He needed you.

He rutted against the soft warmth beside him, seeking some kind of relief, your body relaxed and pliant against him, your breath hot on his skin and it was the little whimper you made that woke him up.

It was still early, the light coming in from around the edges of the curtains not bright enough for it to be the light of day yet but that didn’t seem to matter, he could see things just fine. You were close and tight against him, his aching cock pressed to your stomach, the root of him against your clit, your pussy so hot he could feel it through your pajamas and his own. Your leg was hitched over his hip and you rocked your hips against his length and your head was tucked below his. He could smell your shampoo and feel the heat of your breath on his neck. He froze against you and you gave a soft, strangled moan.

“Goldie,” he whispered, only then realizing that he was panting for breath. “Think… I think you’re dreamin’, should wake up…”

You didn’t respond. You just moaned, high pitched and needy, and worked your core against his length and Joel worried that he was going to come then and there.

“Goldie,” he said again. HIs voice sounded strangled, like he was choking on the words. “Gotta wake up baby, can’t…”

Your leg tightened on him and your hand found its way to the back of his neck, playing in his curls as you ground yourself against his cock and he thought he might burst if he didn’t find some kind of relief soon and… was it really wrong if you started it? If you were practically fucking him in your sleep, was it so bad to give in to what you wanted?

His resolve weakened, falling into nothing in a matter of seconds. His hands spread over you, one between your shoulder blades, the other cupping the lush globe of your ass and he pressed closer to you, grinding against your hot slit that you kept pressing against him like you wanted him the way he wanted you.

Joel’s hand traveled down your ass and over your thigh, the feeling of your skin below his fingers almost too much when taken with everything else you were offering and fuck he wanted to feel you come. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of you and feel you get lost in your pleasure while wrapped around him. He resisted the urge to at least slip a finger into those wet panties - he knew they’d be wet, knew you’d be fucking dripping - because that, for some reason, was a bridge too far. You hadn’t started that. You had started this.

“Goldie,” he managed again, forgetting all pretense and just fucking his cock against you now. “Need you to wake up…”

You buried your face in his neck and moaned, the motion of your hips picking up for a moment before you pulled your face back from him, eyes open wide and glassy with want and shock. He froze, his hands still on you and his cock still pressed against your core.

“Joel,” you breathed, eyes searching his. “What are we…”

“Want me to stop touchin’ you?” He asked, praying you wouldn’t say yes.

“No,” you whispered. “I… I want…I need… but we… we can’t…”

His heart cracked open at that but he shoved it aside. He could deal with the pain of that later.

“Don’t gotta be anymore than this,” he said quietly. “It’s OK baby, promise. It doesn’t need to mean anything, it’s OK…”

You just nodded quickly and buried your face in his neck again, clutching him close so every line of you was tight to his body, your hips working in earnest against his cock. He moaned at the feel of it, needing to press his mouth into the crown of your head to muffle the sound. He rutted himself against you, his leaking cock making such a mess of his goddamn underwear that it almost felt like he was inside you, the slick of his precome and the heat of your pussy intoxicating.

The two of you rocked against each other like teenagers in heat, terrified of what that next step would mean but too desperate to stop yourselves now. Joel was getting dangerously close to spilling into his pants and was trying to stave off his orgasm, needing to come with you, when you spoke - voice small and hot and needy - from your place tucked against his skin.

“I’m gonna come, Joel,” you panted so quietly, like your pleasure was a secret. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come, I…”

“It’s OK,” he said, holding you a little closer, a little tighter, working his cock against you a little harder. “Just come, it’s OK, I’ve got you, it’s OK, just come for me baby, just come.”

You rutted yourself against him once, twice more before your body seized up and he could feel the throbbing of your pussy against his cock even through the layers of clothing. He closed his eyes and thrust up, letting himself imagine that he was deep inside you and coming there, his orgasm hitting him so hard it made his head spin.

Your body went limp in his hold after as the two of you panted for breath, limbs tangled around each other. He just held you, tight enough to feel close but loose enough that you could pull away when you needed, until you leaned back from him. Your eyes were still wide but more in shock, now, than want.

“Joel,” you whispered. “What did we do?”

He could hear the panic edging into your voice.

“What did we just do?” Your breaths were coming in fearful little pants now and he ignored the pain in his chest as he brushed your hair back soothingly.

“S’OK,” he said softly. “It… it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s OK. Just… shit happened, it wasn’t anything crazy, it’s OK. It don’t have to be anything it’s not, it’s OK.”

There was a look in your eyes he couldn’t quite place but then you nodded.

“You OK?” Joel asked after a moment.

You held his gaze for a second before you nodded once.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s OK.”

His alarm went off and he scrambled to turn it off, praying that, this time, it really would be OK.

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm going to keep building that tension because I love to torture them apparently.

Don't ask me what my problem is. If I knew, I'd tell you.

Thank you so much for reading about these two idiots! I love them so much. Even if they're idiots.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #halcyon

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solar-wing · 1 year

Text

⚣ Rag Doll 🤬

⚣🤬 A/N → My first Jason Todd fic I posted on my other account! This full NSFW will be posted here since taking it out would lead to half the story being taken out. WARNINGS: NSFW. Breaking&Entering. Consensual-Non-Consensual. Bondage. Anal Sex. Rough Fucking. Mentions of Throat-Fucking. Domination. Breathplay (Choking). etc.

⚣🤬 Summary → Jason hasn't gotten it through his head that you and he were broken up. But, for the vigilante, you haven't gotten it through your head that you belong to him. He plans on reminding you of that little fact. Sorry for your window.

⚣🤬 Words → 2.1k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🤬

“I’m not arguing about this with you again, Jason!” You shouted into your phone while pacing back and forth in your living room.

It was damn near midnight and you were just about to get in the shower after a hard day. Your job was stressing you out, your neighbors were getting on your nerves, and your ex-boyfriend, Jason Todd, hadn’t gotten it through his thick head about the ‘ex’ part.

“I don’t want you fucking working with him, Y/N!” Jason shouted back through your earphones. You had to switch the call to them after you got tired of holding the phone against your ear for over half an hour.

Your job put together a new team for an important project after your company merged under Wayne Enterprises. You were selected to lead this team, along with one of your co-workers who you had been aware was interested in you since you started working at the company.

Unfortunately, your ex was the jealous and possessive type of guy who upon finding out this information demanded you quit. It turned into a major argument that lasted for weeks until you eventually called it off with him after two years. Obviously, he wasn’t happy about that and refused to accept it.

You kicked him out of your shared apartment, changing the locks, but it didn’t stop him from coming back, acting like you guys were on a break instead of actually broken up.

“I don’t give two flying shits, Jason! We broke up. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life.” You repeated, for probably the 14th time within the last 30 minutes.

“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me, Y/N!” He growled through the phone.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m your child, asshole!”

You heard him go quiet for a minute, though you could hear how hard his breathing was through the line indicating he was reaching his limit but so were you. Many people wondered how you two managed to stay together as long as you did since you both were hotheads.

“I’d remind you, Y/N, to watch who you’re talking to like that. Don’t think for one second I won’t-”

“You won’t what, fucker?” You cut him off, your patience non-existent at this point.

“Baby boy, please just-”

“No, Jason! I told you I am through with your controlling ass behavior. We’re over. Stop calling me, stop texting me, and stop having your family watch me. You have no say at all in my life anymore. If I want to go fuck Levi, Adrian, Steve, and the whole motherfucking HR team, I will do so. And there is not one thing you can do to stop me. So with that, goodnight, Jason.” You said, clicking the button on your earphones to hang up the call.

A deep sigh escaped your lips before you took your earphones out and placed them in their case. You walked to your bedroom and tossed the device onto the bed, missing the silhouette of a tall, bulky body standing on the building across from your apartment window.

You had just finished brushing your teeth and were about to wash your face when the sound of glass shattering from your bedroom alerted you.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself before opening your bathroom door, looking to see your bedroom window in pieces. But that wasn’t what shocked you the most. What had you staggered and growing furious was the person you saw standing in the middle of the mess, dressed in his vigilante attire, just without the helmet.

“Jason Peter Todd, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed, a tight knot forming at the back of your head from your anger toward the beefy vigilante.

He held a smug grin, slowly walking toward you while grabbing something off his belt, “You hung up on me baby boy, and we weren’t finished talking yet.”

There was a dark tone to his words as he backed you into the corner of your room with him easily dwarfing you in size. The glint of the metal handcuffs in his hand shined in your eye as you let out a gulp.

Your wrists ached and were the color of an apple as they were repeatedly dragged and rubbed against the handcuffs that had you bound to the headboard on your bed. Tears pooled in your eyelids and ran down your cheeks as you felt Jason thrusting roughly into you with his hand squeezing your dick, denying you another orgasm for the 4th time.

He’d been at it for over an hour, fucking you in every position he could think of all over your no-longer shared bedroom.

There was a growing soreness in your hole from your ex’s rough treatment, only slowing down every now and then to delay his own orgasm. He only would allow himself to cum when you did first. Such a gentleman.

Thing was, he would keep denying your orgasm until you submitted to him and agreed to take him back. Now, he chooses to accept your break-up! Great fucking timing…

His body hovered over yours as forced your legs wider with one hand while using the other to hold you around your neck. It was something from his possessive nature that just liked the feeling of control he got when he could squeeze and take your breath away at a moment’s notice.

“A-Ah! Cl-Close a-a-again.” You whined as you felt your body jutting up and down with the shaking bed frame.

The sound of fists pounding from the other side of the wall, your neighbors signaling their annoyance and request for you to quiet down, but Jason ignored them. Before, he would always stop and yell out an apology. He was considerate like that, but tonight, he couldn’t give one fuck if the entire building came knocking on your door.

You were his entire focus. All he cared about was you and making you feel every bit of pleasurable pain while at his mercy.

“Uh uh baby boy,” He grunted in your ear, squeezing down on the base of your dick again, preventing you yet again from reaching your blissful end. You felt more than heard the cry of frustration you let out, your head turning back as he licked and bit at your earbud.

Your body was littered with bite marks and hickeys, another thing from your ex’s possessive attitude toward you. The red marks would remind everyone else who you belonged to while the soreness from your hole would remind you. Jason’s size alone could have you squirming all alone without his rough pace.

Looking over his shoulder in the distance, you could see the mirror facing your bed, and Jason’s large frame fucking into you like an animal from behind. Even with his shirt still on, you could see how sweaty he was which did nothing but increase the arousal and need for release in your stomach.

Jason knew just how much it drove you crazy seeing his muscles underneath the compression material even when you guys were just out on a regular outing, let alone during sex. It was very obvious he did that on purpose just to make it even harder for you to resist him. He even kept his mask on too, probably remembering that one time you said you liked the mysterious vibe it gave him.

All you wanted at that moment was to touch him, to run your hands up and down his back and over his arms, or through his dark hair to grip and hold on as he pile-drived into you mercilessly. But, as cruel as fate was (fate being named Jason), your restraints would not give way no matter how hard you pulled against them.

He let out an amusing chuckle at your struggling before tightening his grip around your neck, restricting your airways.

“Ja-Jason, please…” You gasped before he increased the pressure even more, stealing your breath away.

A soundless yelp escaped your lips when he gave a particularly hard thrust against your spot while rubbing his thumb over your red, weeping head, smearing your pre-cum all over before he slowed down to a dragging pace so he could speak into your ear.

“You know what to say, Y/N. I let you have this little charade to give you time to cool off like the caring boyfriend I am, but obviously, you needed a reminder of who’s in charge here. So tell me what I want to hear, baby boy, and you can have your reward.” He gruffly stated before his movements suddenly paused inside you and he released the pressure on your throat.

“N-No! Please- a-ah, fuck ... ! Please, Jason, I-I need…” You cried the second you felt him stop and the air came rushing back into your pipes.

Jason was buried all the way inside you, throbbing hard against your walls. You could tell he was close and was using this as an opportunity to calm himself down so he could keep fucking you if you didn’t give in.

“Those aren’t the fucking words I want to hear, Y/N.” He scolded in your ear with a harsh slap to the side of your butt causing you to scream out in pain before he tightened his hold around your neck again.

He brought his head up from between your neck, his hard stare looking you down as you tried to hold back the tears still building in your eyes. “Fuck, you’re so hot like this and you feel so good around my cock. You’re tight and wet and all for me. Stop torturing us both like this, baby boy. Just say it.” He dictated before leaning down to kiss your lips which were still swollen from when he face-fucked you for 10 minutes.

You suddenly felt him give you a pounding thrust, squeezing around your dick at the same time causing you to scream into his mouth.

“Come on baby, just say it for me. Who do you belong to?” He muttered against your lips, punctuating every word with another thrust and squeeze, forcing more tears from your eyes as your body shuddered from the pain and stimulation.

He laid soft kisses around your cheeks, treating your face like a flower but your body like a rag doll.

“N-nh, ah ... f-fuck ... y-you you…” You breathed, barely able to form any coherent words from his increasing grip on your neck.

“You what, baby?” He prodded, watching as your eyes fluttered close from the pleasure of his increasing thrusts, “Ah ah, open up those eyes, baby boy. You need to look at me when you say it.” He ordered, thrusting against your prostate again forcing you to open your eyes with another whine.

“I-I b-belong… oh fuck… t-to … ah you…” You muttered, hearing his growl in response.

“Say it again.” He ordered, punching against your spot again while squeezing your dick.

“I belong to you.”

“Louder!”

“I belong to you!”

“I said louder!” Your bodies rocked together with the shaking frame hearing items hit the floor from the wall where your headboard was banging against as the pounding from the other side started up again.

“I BELONG TO YOU!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You could hear the smirk in his voice as he smashed the head of his dick against your prostate before he leaned down into your ear, releasing your dick with an order, “Cum.”

Your body felt like it was encased in white-hot fire release overcame you, screaming out “O-OHH, FUCK ... !”

You twitched underneath him as your dick exploded with your orgasm, painting your stomach and his shirt with your white sticky cum while your legs were shaking from the stimulation as you came down from your high.

Jason feverishly increased his pace, fucking into you with erratic movements before he let out a loud groan, pushing as far as he could while shooting his load inside you. It caused an aftershock to turn through you, sending more spurts of your own cum out your weeping dick as he tensed and tried to hold himself still while breeding you.

He moved slowly back and forth, both your bodies still lightly shuddering in pleasure. He brought his face back over yours, pressing your sweaty foreheads together.

“You’re quitting tomorrow.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.” You replied, slowly catching your breath.

“Watch it,” He retorted with a small hard thrust while flexing his still-hard dick eliciting a small cry from you.

He chuckled at you pressing his lips against yours again before muttering out against them, "You're mine, and if I have to remind you of that again, I will."

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years

Text

Perfection | Jin x Reader

Pairing: Vampire Jin x Reader

Word Count: 16k

Series: (6/7) Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Breaking and Entering, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Anger Issues, Dismemberment, MC had a fear of death, MC has agoraphobia, but MC is in therapy (good for her), Jin is kind of an asshole but we love it, kind of pet-playish(?), Jin is basically a sugar daddy tbh

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

A/N: I have been working on this fic since July and I am so happy that it is finally done and you guys will be able to read it! I really hope the time this took was worth it and that the fic was worth the hype lol. It’s almost one thirty in the morning and I have a quiz so I really should be sleeping. I think this is one of my favorite installments of the series! I hope you enjoy the fic and as always I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and my comments. Ily 💜💜💜

Kim Seokjin had not only a pretty face but a brilliant mind as well.

At least, that’s what he told everyone.

If there was a singular sin that he could fully encompass it would be vanity. And the sin that he shared with nearly everyone in his “family” was that of pride: a deadly and violent mix. That blend was what led to his damnation.

He knew that he deserved only the best and nothing less, that was exactly how he had been raised when he was still human. In the late 1800s, he had been granted the privilege of being born into high-class society as the eldest son, the heir to the Kim legacy. Everything he wanted was directly at his fingertips and at his disposal. From the moment he was born he was guaranteed power, and that was something he wished to never lose.

As the heir to a luxury wine company, it was only expected that alcohol, parties, and lewd behavior were set to follow him, and he exceeded those expectations. But he was good at keeping business and pleasure as two distinctly separate functions.

And with the life he lived, it was not often that individuals met his expectations. And by individuals, he meant potential wives. Naturally, it was expected of him to marry and continue the family's legacy. But the gold spoon that he was born with in his mouth tainted the pool. No one was good enough for him and that caused much strife within the family.

He was well past the age of marrying at twenty-eight years old. He was beginning to feel the pressure his father and mother were putting on his shoulders. And, not to mention, he was well aware that he was aging. Of course, he would never admit that his looks were fading. There was not a crease in his skin or a gray hair to be plucked, but he could feel it. He could see the minute imperfections that no one else could. It made his skin crawl in disgust.

And then Kim Namjoon entered the frame and everything began to come together.

His mother had insisted on organizing yet another party to find him a wife under the guise that he was there to make several important business deals. But when the vast majority of partygoers were young women with stars in their eyes he knew what was really going on. And of course, he was not going to stick around and socialize with subpar candidates. If he were going to do that it would be restricted to his bedroom, of course.

Namjoon had come to that party that night, Yoongi in tow despite his protests. Namjoon was a cultured man, he liked to mingle with the members of high society from time to time. It helped him learn what was appropriate for the decade as trends (in manners, clothing, and amusement) came and went rapidly. And those who belonged to the upper class were those who set those trends. It was strategic and it helped his kind blend in as seamlessly as possible.

And Jin was the epitome of a high-class man.

And so, Namjoon and Yoongi befriended him. It hadn’t been hard for them, they had been around for so long that they fit right in. And Jin had merely thought he found more of the few people that could meet his high expectations - his small inner circle growing with two new additions. But of course, that friendship had started out with the purpose of using Jin for what he had.

So in turn, he used them.

While Jin had a pretty face, he actually was quite smart and observant. He took note of his companions' odd behavior. He never saw them during the daytime, only in the veil of the night. They had the oddest colored eyes - not quite black but a deep shade of burgundy like the embers of a smoldering fire laid within their depths. And they were cold, absolutely frigid to the touch like a corpse. It didn’t take him very long to piece together what they were, and it was only proven true when he caught the both of them feasting on lifeless corpses in his guest room. He timed everything just perfectly to discover their true nature.

Yoongi had seemed genuinely surprised, bloody lips parted in shock as he stood as still as a statue, the limp body still collapsed in his iron grasp.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was smiling. He too was not able to conceal his nature any longer but he wasn’t trying either. He took his time and continued to finish his meal despite the obvious living human presence in the room.

“You two have been holding out on me,” Jin said with a disappointed tone.

“Holding out?” Namjoon echoed before relaxing his arms and allowing the corpse to slip down to the floor, the thinnest drizzle of blood pooling onto the parquet flooring.

Yoongi could only stare at the both of them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two other men.

“Yes, holding out! You are immortal are you not?”

“Yes, we are, and I’m sure you’ve figured out the rest by now haven’t you?”

“You may have been able to fool all of those other halfwits but it was painfully obvious to me, of course.”

“Of course.” Namjoon nodded while trying to suppress an amused grin.

“I want in, I wish to join you and your kind.”

“No,” Yoongi immediately cut in, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, this is a curse it is not something to take lightly and flirt with the notion of.”

His tone was harsh, his face stern but there was evident pain behind his eyes. Yoongi had been forced into this life if that was what you could even call it. He couldn’t fathom someone willingly agreeing to eternal damnation and he would try his hardest to convince them otherwise.

“Are you denying me?�� Jin asked, his face contorted in utter disbelief. He was never denied anything in his twenty-eight years of life and the feeling of rejection was infuriating.

“Yoongi, it’s his decision,” Namjoon interjected, his hand wiping the blood from his mouth leaving a streaky crimson trail behind.

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Yoongi hissed.

“What is there to consider? He’s already seen us and he knows what he wants.”

“He has no idea what he wants!”

“And why are you speaking for me? Just because you’re miserable and dissatisfied does not mean the same will be said for me!” Jin spat. “I grow tired of this human body. Every second of every day I feel myself wasting away and there is not a thing I can do about it.”

“You would throw away your humanity, your life, all in the name of vanity?” Yoongi asked in disbelief.

“And for greed as well,” Jin laughed, “Believe me, I am many things and one of them is self-aware. I am a selfish bastard and I am perfectly fine with that. I won’t allow my looks to fade and my fortune will grow as centuries pass. This is what I desire and I refuse to concede.”

He was a businessman in every aspect.

“It sounds like he’s made his choice, Yoongi.” Namjoon finally spoke.

“It sounds like he’s made an ignorant choice and I refuse to have any part in this,” Yoongi said, storming past the two of them and slamming the door shut with enough force that the mahogany wood cracked by the handle.

“So, are we going to fuck about or will you give me what I want?” Jin asked, his impatience growing.

“I consider you a good friend, Jin. I won't lie, I am pleased that you are asking this of me.” Namjoon smiled before grabbing Jin’s shoulder, “We’re all lonely children looking for a place where we belong.”

Lonely children, that was one way to put it. Namjoon was not entirely wrong. In a world where you deserved only the best, many fell short and in the end, you were painfully alone, whether you were willing to admit it or not.

“Before we go through with this, there are some things you should know.”

“What things?”

“You can’t go in the sun, not just yet, you’ll be far too young and far too sensitive to light. Quiet, dark, scentless places are going to be the best place to stay - your senses are going to be heightened tenfold. You must feed often in the early years, you’re going to be very hungry, bloodthirsty really so you need to stay away from large crowds of people.”

Jin was silent for a moment, his eyes shifting from left to right and back again as he processed everything he was told. He could manage, and he could figure out how to do all of those things while maintaining his position as an heir.

“Lastly, do not try and do this alone. In our world, there is strength in numbers as well as safety. You’ll have to stay with me and Yoongi, we will all be bound to one another as creator and creation.”

“So when you two leave…”

“You will follow.” Namjoon nodded, “We try to stay in one place for as long as we can so if it’s your family you’re worried about you’ll have plenty of time to figure something out.”

But they weren’t coming with him. As terrible as it was, that wasn’t a great enough reason to sway his decision. He still wanted what he desired and he was willing to let his family go. So he stuck out his hand, ready to shake on the agreement.

“I accept the conditions.”

~~~~~~~

Most people were afraid of spiders, some of heights, and many feared drowning. But you feared something a bit more abstract and with a bit more finality. You were afraid of aging and by association, you were incredibly afraid of death.

And that fear often leads you to do a few things. One of them was to start skincare at an absurdly young age. The other was to hermit yourself inside of your house out of fear of some horrific accident befalling you. And the other was to seek out strange and obscure places to visit before you die. It was odd that the last two coincide but they do.

There were days when you were so frightened that you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed. And then you had days where you felt daring, if you were going to die one day would you really want to have lived your only life trapped inside of your own house? There were your good days and your bad days and they came and went like the tides.

Today was a “good” day. And by good day that meant you were on your laptop scrolling through forums trying to find a new place to visit. Living in a small town was hard, you knew everyone and every place because they were so few in number. But sometimes there were locations in between towns, or hidden spots in your own. Briar Hills is an old town, a historical town even. It’s not uncommon for places to be abandoned, concrete skeletons collapsing and being devoured by the flora.

It was finding them, buried in hundreds of posts, that was difficult. The teenagers in the town had taken to reclaiming those places, turning them into party spots in the blink of an eye. But that has changed in the past few months. Ever since the first body turned up.

That was the thing about small towns, murder was much rarer than the action that cities see. So, when dozens of corpses begin to show up in streams and lakes and people begin to go missing without a trace - panic ensues. As well as a town-wide curfew.

Briar Hills turned into a ghost town after dark. The streets would be empty, lit by a few lampposts spread down the street that was easily consumed by a thick, hazy fog. Every now and then the fog would be broken by police lights, red and blue shocks of color dispersing the mist as the night patrol came around the block. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

And, if it weren’t a good day, the sight alone would be enough to keep you corralled in your room. But it was a good day and you had become stir-crazy from staying in your house for the past few weeks.

After endless scrolling there was one post in particular that caught your attention. It looked like an extravagant invitation with a satin black background and deep red embellishments. It had very little interaction and it was written in a completely different language. For something as obscure as an abandoned place in a small town you weren’t surprised that it had gone unnoticed, especially considering few people checked this forum.

Putting the text into google translate had not been insanely helpful. The translated text was jumbled and made little sense, it was one of those languages that did not thrive when it came to longer translations. But you were interested and fairly stubborn and after extended research and decoding fragmented sentences you were left with this:

“The best bite I’ve ever had,” And following that was a set of coordinates that had been written out instead of just using their numerical counterparts.

You were interested.

What could that mean? Maybe it was some hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but why all the decorum? Why the translations? Who even uses coordinates anymore? The best way to get the answers you desired was to discover them for yourself.

That’s how you ended up sneaking out of your house, dressed head to toe in dark colors, like some teenager that’s about to disappoint their parents. Except, in this case, your parents were the cops, and being grounded would equate to being detained for violating the town-wide curfew. All the more reason to not get caught.

You started to get cold feet when you realized where the set of coordinates was leading you, your body came to a fast stop when the toes of your boots met the edge of the forest. The forest, at night, with low visibility, and predators prowling was a bad move. That just screamed a sudden and violent death, not to mention the bulk of missing persons' corpses had been found within its depths. This was a stupid idea, a bad move, but it was a good day and you were too stubborn to follow reason. You would make up for it tomorrow by hiding in your bed all day. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a coping mechanism nonetheless.

You took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and took a step forward. There was no going back now, you had made up your mind.

The further into the forest you trekked the quieter it became. It didn’t make sense. You were getting further from society so why was it so quiet? The wind was still, not a branch or leaf trembled, and not even a cricket dared to chirp. It was like every living creature had up and left, abandoning their home. The only sound that filled the static silence was the bubbling rush of water from the river.

You began to walk faster, your nerves urging you to get where you were going and be done with it. On top of that, your eyes were starting to play tricks on you, your brain attempting to make sense of the dark and fill in what was missing resulting in ominous shadows shifting through the trees. You were regretting your decision immensely, so you picked up the pace and began humming to yourself to fill the silence.

If you were being honest, you really had no idea what you were supposed to be looking for. The post hadn’t listed much of anything and you weren’t sure what would be at the end of the coordinates. But, the red light glowing in the distance was a sure sign of something. It grew more intense as you neared it, the light getting stronger the closer to the ground it was. When you finally pushed through the underbrush you were met with a set of concrete stairs leading down into the ground and at the very bottom was an old metal door with a faintly pulsing red light above it. Looking down at your phone you were able to verify that you had made it to where the coordinates were marked.

It was a bomb shelter. It was most likely one for the community back in the forties, an evacuation and safe point for those who didn’t have their own. It must have been abandoned and forgotten about after the war, left to rot there for the past eighty years. But if that light was anything to go by, it must have been reclaimed by someone.

You carefully stepped down the stairs, applying a little weight at a time to make sure that the concrete hadn’t eroded and wouldn’t crumble beneath you. When you reached the bottom you tried the door and to your surprise, it opened with a creak. There was a long tunnel just barely lit by candles lining the walls leaving deep shadows in between them. And now you could feel the walls thumping, steadily vibrating with a muffled bass. That meant there was another chamber somewhere.

You hesitantly traveled down the tunnel, long stretches of the floor would eventually give way to more stairs leading you deeper and deeper underground. This was a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. The more you walked the harder the walls vibrated until you finally came upon another door where the sounds became the loudest. Above the door hung a purple neon sign that read: “Blood Sugar.”

Upon testing the door handle, you were surprised to find that it was unlocked, and once it slowly swung open your nose was assaulted with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and a coppery odor. You swiftly entered and closed the door behind you, trying your best not to bring too much attention to yourself. But it appears you would have no trouble doing so.

The room you had stepped into was massive, the walls were tall and rounded out at the ceiling and were made completely out of metal. But it was far from a barren, abandoned bunker. The room was packed with people, some dancing, some drinking, and others wrapped around one another on the various red velvet chaises spread around the space. The music was loud and the room was lit by antique chandeliers as well as deep purple lighting casting an ominous glow over everyone.

The bunker had been converted into a club of some sort and despite the decrepit tunnels you had slunk through to get here, it was surprisingly luxurious. You were honestly surprised the entire town hadn’t known about this place. That much was certainly true because, despite the large crowd, you could only recognize about five people you had seen before. The massive gathering was largely that of people that were not from Briar Hills.

A set of delicate hands slithered around your waist, tugging you sharply towards the stranger behind you. A shout of surprise parted your lips as you turned around, slapping the offending limbs off of you.

There was a tall woman facing you with a grin on her face, her bright white teeth glinting from behind her deep red lips. Her skin was so pale it was glowing with a purple hue from the lights, her long black curls creating an even sharper contrast against her skin. And you couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did, but the sight of those bright white teeth had your stomach twisting in knots. Despite her delicate appearance, every red flag was being raised in your body. The urge to run was strong.

“Hello, sweetheart,” She crooned, “You’re new, aren’t you?”

Something in the back of your mind demanded you lie.

“No, I’m not. If you’ll excuse me,” You said, your voice steady and cold despite the goosebumps on the back of your neck and the rapid thump of your pulse.

As you went to walk past her she easily stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, her face suddenly incredibly close as she pressed her nose to your hairline and took a deep breath. “Oh, you can’t lie to me, I remember every sweet little snack that comes in here.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Look, I’m not interested in…whatever that means,” You huffed, taking a few steps back and breaking free from her steel grasp, “I’m just here for a drink.”

“Oh?” She hummed, “So am I, I’m glad we can cut to the chase.”

“Okay?” You slowly asked before shuffling around her imposing figure, “See ya.”

You slipped into the crowd, forcing your way through the bodies in an attempt to shake her off of your trail. Anybody else in your position would have lingered for the ethereal woman, but you couldn’t ignore that feeling in the back of your mind or that tug deep in your gut. She was dangerous, and no pretty smile or sweet words could hide it. It was in times like these that your intense fear of death became present as paranoia, warning you of all potential threats.

When you started therapy you were encouraged to slowly step out of your comfort zone, to do things that would combat your anxieties. So, on good days, you try your best to succeed with these short-term goals hoping in the long run you could live normally like every other person your age. But you often found your anxiety creeping up on you and you knew after tonight you would need the rest of the week to recover and that meant avoidance which meant hiding out in your rented duplex.

But for now, you had to cope.

When you broke free from the crowd you stumbled forward, a stray limb jabbing you in the back and sending you reeling onto one of the velvet chaises. To your utter embarrassment, you landed right next to a couple that had left all of their inhibitions at the door like many other patrons of the underground club. The woman was straddling the man's thighs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, her long locks obscuring his face. Although you couldn’t see what he was doing it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the woman’s mouth opened to let out soft moans of pleasure.

Heat rushed up to your face as you stumbled off of the chaise and backed up from the voyeuristic lovers. Of course, you weren't innocent, but seeing something like that in person was different from shamelessly reading smut at three AM.

A few feet away from the couple was the bar. It was surprisingly empty for a club. The man you assumed to be the bartender behind the countertop was relaxing against it, his dark eyes scanning your awkward posture.

You swiftly approached the bar and yelled over the music, “Hi, how much is water?”

He gave you an amused chuckle before grabbing a small leather menu and sliding it over to you, “We don’t serve that here, sweetheart.”

You stared at him in confusion before flipping open the menu. The only thing listed there were various wines all costing an exorbitant amount of money, and by that, you meant at least three months' rent and that was just for a glass, not even the bottle.

“These prices are insane, are you kidding me?!”

“They’re from 1889, newbie.” He smiled, a grin identical to the woman from earlier.

“Well, this was a bust.” You groaned, the initial buzz of excitement from finding a town secret had long since faded.

“Can I offer you some advice?”

“Be my guest.”

“You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings, you’ve had eyes on you since you stepped foot in this place.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

“If I were you, I would get out of here. Things get crazy with fresh blood, ya know? The people here are like sharks in the water.” The bartender said, regaining your attention. “Uh oh, looks like you got one on your trail.”

You followed his and the pretty stranger’s gaze behind you. It was her again, the woman from earlier. She was slipping through the ocean of moving bodies with ease, her gait like that of a jaguar on the prowl as she approached. You watched as her polished fingers wiped away what looked like stray lipstick from beneath her lips.

Without thinking you darted away from the bar and past the pretty man, rushing through the first door you found which turned out to be the bathroom. Once the door fell shut you felt like you could relax for a moment. The music was muffled allowing you to think coherently for the first time since you had entered the bunker. Everything had become far too stimulating and you could feel your anxiety rising.

You leaned against the sink, turning the water on ice cold before splashing your face so that you could shock yourself back into clarity. You allowed yourself to brace the sink and relax your body, focusing on your breathing and grounding yourself before you lost control, just the way you were taught to.

The feeling of ice-cold fingers on your shoulders threw all of your work away.

You yelped and flinched, your eyes flying open to see her standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror.

“I knew you were a shy little thing, you should have just told me you wanted to do this privately.” She sighed with a sickeningly sweet smile.

In a moment of flight, fight, or freeze your body chose for you, your legs running without you telling them to do so. You didn’t make it far, not before she grabbed hold of you and threw you up against the wall. Your head hit the tile behind you so hard you saw stars.

“I’ve been hunting you down all night, you’ve made me build up quite the appetite. Do you know how many others I’ve had to threaten to get to you? Everyone always wants to take someone’s first bite.”

What the fuck was she talking about?

“While it was cute at first, we've played this game for long enough, don’t you think?”

“Let go of me!” You yelled while grabbing her wrists and trying to pry her hands off of you. To your complete and utter shock, she didn’t move an inch, it was like her bones were made of iron - immovable and inflexible.

“Now, now, don’t go throwing a tantrum that won’t get you anywhere.” She sighed, sliding her hand up your shoulder to wrap around your throat and squeeze.

Your throat and lungs burned as her grip slowly increased its pressure, your eyes watering as broken gasps and chokes for air gurgled past your lips.

“There there, much better.” She whispered into your ear as she released your throat, your body going limp as you gasped for air.

She easily gathered you up into her arms and softly tilted your head to the side, her perfectly polished nails grazing over the stretch of skin as she hummed before pressing her cherry-red lips to your throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel a slight pinch.” She joked before her jaw widened and a demonic hiss left her throat as her teeth grazed the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck.

But before she could sink her teeth in she was harshly ripped away from you, her perfect face slammed so hard into the bathroom wall that the tiles shattered upon impact. A loud cry of pain echoed throughout the room as she pulled herself from the wall, black blood was pouring from her crooked nose and her sliced lips.

Behind her stood the stranger from before, a miffed and frankly disgusted expression marred his stunning features.

“What the fuck, Jin?!” She screamed, cupping her injured face.

“She’s not a fang banger, Junghee.”

Her once flawless features froze in shock as a look of horror crawled over her face. It was the look of someone who realized that they had made a horrible mistake.

“You’ve really fucked up this time.” He growled in irritation, a genuine growl that had your skin crawling.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?! What is she even doing here?!”

“That’s none of your concern anymore, get the fuck out!” He yelled, ripping the bathroom door open and throwing her out of the room.

You stayed pressed up against the wall out of pure terror. Vampires, you had walked into a fucking nest of vampires and had the closest brush with death you’ve ever had in your entire life. Your gaze remained locked on the vampire, Jin, as he calmed down; the waves of his rage slowly dissipating. In this lighting, you could finally see what you hadn’t been able to before in the dim club. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes gleamed a vibrant, intimidating red.

You winced in fright as he took a step in your direction, your body attempting to meld into the wall behind you. Jin raised his eyebrow in questioning, taken aback by your apprehension. It wasn’t often he had humans cowering in fear, usually, they shook from…something else.

“Enough of that, come along human.” He snapped, grabbing you by your sleeve and easily dragging you from the room despite your protests and your heels digging into the ground. He was pulling you as if you weighed nothing.

“Let go!” You shrieked in terror, struggling against his hold with all of your might.

He came to a sudden halt, gripping you by your shoulder and pulling your body so close that there was barely an inch of space left between his chest and your own.

“Don’t you think you’ve drawn enough attention to yourself tonight?”

You peered over your shoulder, and sure enough, there were several of his kind watching the two of you from the dance floor. Their stares were curious and hungry. Unconsciously you shifted closer to him, choosing the lesser of two evils, one vampire versus many.

“Look at that you’re smart, for a human.” He snickered before guiding you back to the curtained area you had seen him sitting in before Junghee had cornered you in the bathroom.

“Sit, stay.” He said with a smirk as he pressed you down by your shoulder onto one of the couches before gesturing for someone to close the thick curtains.

“Look, I just want to go home. I won’t breathe a word about what happened here or what this place is, it was a mistake coming here.”

“A mistake indeed, but a mistake that needs correcting nonetheless,” Jin said with a distressed roll of his (impressive) shoulders. “So, tell me human, how did you find this place?”

You sat there in silence for a moment, your face the perfect image of confusion, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I don’t recall telling a joke.”

“You - there was a post online, on a forum? Anyone could have found it if they were looking close enough, it really wasn’t that hard to find. All I had to do was translate the text and it told me where to go.”

“A…forum?” He repeated, clearly confused.

Dear God, he was an old-ass vampire who didn't know much about technology or even the internet. He didn’t even know he had advertised the place. He was just an old man in a young man’s body.

“You know, a forum, it’s online, it's where people who want to discuss a certain topic go to. I was looking for obscure places, abandoned buildings, and lesser-known spots in town. I found the posting for this place and it just said ‘The best bite I’ve ever had’...I didn’t know it meant literally.” You said, your nerves leading you to ramble on and on.

Jin’s eyes pressed shut, his face contorting in anger as a hiss parted his lips, “Jimin.”

Jimin and himself were the only two vampires in their coven that knew about the club Jin hosted. Jin had been careless one night and Jimin had followed him, discovering the secret he had kept well hidden. Jin bought Jimin’s silence initially with limited access to the place, but now he was regretting every interaction he had had with the short vampire.

One of the few times Jin had found himself getting on with said vampire had led him to express his annoyance with the lack of human stock for the club. In turn, Jimin had offered to help “advertise” in exchange for unrestricted access to the club.

Now that he had figured out how the little human had snuck her way in, he had to decide what to do with her. He could always kill her, that would be the simple answer. He could drain her dry and snap her pretty neck in an instant. But that wasn’t really his style, he typically preferred to savor his meals unlike his gorger of a “brother”, Jungkook.

Perhaps the human could serve a purpose for him.

“Come, human.” He beckoned with his fingers.

You remained frozen in your seat, your body still in active survival mode keeping your joints locked.

Jin sighed, clearly miffed by your disobedience. He rose from his own seat only to cross the room and sit next to you. His long fingers gripped your chin and jerked your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hold was ice cold, the chill from his touch steadily seeping into your jaw. You felt paralyzed by his intimidating crimson gaze. His eyes flicked quickly over your features as he turned your head from side to side, taking in your every pore.

“Not bad, for a human. Don’t feel too offended, it’s difficult to look as flawless as myself.” He said with a casual tone as if he were merely stating a fact.

“You look pretty average to me,” You blurted out the lie, your lips moving before your brain could stop you from verbalizing.

It was so fast you almost couldn't see it but it was there, his left eye twitched and his grip tightened forcing a slight whine of pain from you. He roughly jerked your head to the side, choosing to ignore what you said despite how much it clearly bothered him. Instead, he trained his focus on your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt down past your collarbone.

“Smooth,” He observed, his icy touch skipping over the skin of your throat, “Junghee didn’t sink her dirty fangs in you after all, that’s good.”

Without warning he leaned down, his nose skimming over your neck as he breathed in, flooding himself with your scent. His grip tightened as you yelped and tried to jerk away from him in fear that this time you would surely die at the hands of a mythical creature, a monster in the flesh.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his plump lips brush your throat, his cool breath fanning over the skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His actions were reminiscent of a wine connoisseur, the way they studied the body of the wine and the aroma. He was assessing you - attempting to decide if you would make a good meal, that you were certain of.

You jerked as you felt him bury his face further into your neck. You could feel the slight flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as a groan parted his lips.

“Well, don’t you smell delicious?” He crooned, his tongue swiping over his lips and just barely ghosting over your throat. “I think that we can come to an agreement, does that sound nice?”

“What,” You paused to clear your throat, “what did you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked,” He said with a wink after pulling back from you, “You see, I think we could mutually benefit from one another’s company. While breaking your pretty little neck would certainly be the easiest way out of this problem, I do find you quite amusing, pet.”

Your body grew stiff as your mind conjured up the image of his strong hands severing your vertebrate in one smooth pull, your body falling limp and lifeless on the club’s floor. Your greatest fear was death and Jin was death incarnate. He could very easily take your life if he so desired and he was making that very clear. He cared not whether you lived or died but only if your presence benefitted him in some manner. Your life was inconsequential.

“Very few people meet my standards but you are very lucky, I have a rather refined palette and it just so happens you meet said standards. So, I would like to propose a business arrangement. You will be my sole donor and keep those pretty lips sealed about everything you have witnessed tonight and in turn, you get to keep your life.”

“And if I don’t agree?” You dared to ask.

A sneer marred his perfect face, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him in his blood-red eyes.

“Then your pathetic human life ends right here, right now.” He said, his hand slipping down your jaw to loosely wrap around your throat. He could feel your pulse steadily thumping against his hand causing his mouth to involuntarily pool with saliva, hunger twisting in his gut.

Your breath hitched, fear slicing down your spine like a violent chill. You knew you only had one choice, and that was to appease the monster that sat beside you because he was far less frightening than the unknown, than the certain embrace of death that waited at every corner.

When fear rules your life, you have no choice. There is only ever one option.

“I agree,” Your voice trembled as you swallowed uncomfortably under his grasp. “I’ll be your donor.”

“Splendid.” He said with a grin, his canines glinting under the light.

“Can I…can I please go home now?” You asked, clasping your trembling hands together to try and still their shaking.

“No, there are a few more fine details we have to iron out,” He said, his index finger lightly tapping your chin, “Firstly, I expect you to maintain a healthy lifestyle and that means no alcohol within a twenty-four hour period before we meet and certainly no smoking it’s a dirty and disgusting habit.”

You nodded slowly, trying your best to avoid looking into his piercing red gaze.

“Try your best to have a healthy diet as well, the junk you humans gorge yourselves on taints your flavor, it’s unbearably sweet.” He said with a wrinkle of his nose in disgust. “I will compensate you for your efforts and your donations, once I’ve deemed you satisfactory, of course,”

“I think that about covers it. And when I call upon you I expect your presence. Do we understand one another?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Your throat was far too tight, your eyes burning with unshed tears as you weakly nodded in agreement.

“Very good,” He hummed before leaning back into the couch and soundly tapping the top of his thigh, “come, pet.”

You sat still, your body frozen in shock as you were unsure if you had heard him correctly.

“Well?” He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

“I…I don’t think that, um-”

“Are you going to keep babbling and test my patience, or are you going to be a good little pet and do as I say?” He interjected and immediately you remembered the phantom feeling of his hand on your throat, the light grip that screamed threat.

You awkwardly shuffled on your knees across the couch and hesitantly settled your legs on either side of him, hovering so that your weight did not rest on his lap. In response, he firmly gripped your hips and harshly pulled you down onto him, pressing you directly against him in a way that sent heat rushing beneath your skin despite the evident chill that emanated from his body.

You could see his fangs even clearer now. They had become longer than before, the sharpened points dragging along the flushed skin of his plump lower lip. You were terrified by the thought of them piercing your thin flesh. What if they punctured your jugular and you bled out to death? What if he had just been playing with his food this entire time, instilling a false hope of survival in you just to watch with murderous glee as you realized you were meant to die the entire time as he drained the life out of you?

And then what? The void of inevitable nothingness? The abyss of the afterlife? You were spiraling now, you could feel it in the way your chest constricted and your breaths came out in panicked, short huffs.

A soft, wet, stroke against your throat pulled you from your frightening thoughts. As your vision cleared you realized that he had settled back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his tongue gently and steadily lapping at your skin. Despite your embarrassment, you could feel your body slowly relaxing and melting against him. It felt like you were being shot up with a tranquilizer, your muscles going weak from his ministrations as the skin of your neck went numb.

And within seconds his fangs were sinking through your flesh, easy and smooth. You jolted in response, a cry of pain leaving you as your fingers curled into the silk of his shirt while your body subconsciously leaned away, trying to escape the sudden painful stimulus.

In response, you could feel Jin’s arms tighten around your back and harshly pull you flat against his chest with an animalistic growl, one that immediately paralyzed you with fear.

The vampire beneath you was enraptured, completely lost in the feeding frenzy as rivers of blood flowed freely past his plump lips and poured down his throat. Your scent had been seductive, but your taste? It was better than any wine, better than ambrosia and nectar, it was addictive. So addictive he was unsure if he would be able to stop but at the same time aware he could not kill you because the rest of his immortal existence would be utter hell if he were unable to get another hit.

Kim Seokjin had a refined palette and high standards and few people met his expectations. But you? You were complete and utter perfection. And he deserved perfection.

His grip was too hard, unrelenting, crushing you against him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked your spine by accident. It was like he was afraid to release you, afraid that there was a chance you would be able to escape him, the apex predator.

But these thoughts were all uselessly whimpered in the back of your mind because the rest of your brain was completely flooded with euphoria. You had never felt so warm and tingly despite his cool hands in your entire life. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, the only thing keeping you grounded in existence was his tight hold. And there were other feelings as well, feelings you would have been ashamed of had your inhibitions not completely disappeared. Feelings that had your thighs clenching on either side of his waist, your heart beating pathetically fast, your pupils dilating, and your limp body helplessly rocking against him with his hands guiding and encouraging you.

This was completely out of character for you. You didn’t climb into random men's laps and writhe against them eagerly like you were in heat. That had never been who you were, but the position you were in now clearly said otherwise.

You were growing lightheaded, not only from arousal and euphoria but from blood loss as well. You weakly pushed at his chest, your innate desire to survive prevailing over the pleasure that had relaxed your muscles.

“Jin, please,” You whimpered, struggling to speak.

The vampire didn’t respond or relent, his arms still wrapped around you like a vice. In desperation you wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at the roots. The pull certainly took him off guard, his fangs sliding free from your throat and his perfect lips parting to release a startled moan.

His eyes were half-lidded but his red irises still burned brightly under the dim lighting, a perfect match for the blood that stained his lips and chin. He said nothing at that moment and from what very little you knew about him you could conclude that it was not often that he was at a loss for words.

Warmth trickled down your neck, rivulets of blood still flowing freely now without him there to catch them and that seemed to snap him back to attention. He slowly leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with you until he was level with your throat once more, his tongue darting out to lick up the trails of blood before tracing over the puncture wounds he had left behind.

Your hold on his shoulders did nothing to dissuade him, in fact, he quite enjoyed your weak attempts to keep him at an arm's length. Humans were so fragile, so weak, and he enjoyed that.

“Relax,” He breathed, “We have a deal, remember? It would be a waste to drain you dry in one night.”

“And how do I know you don’t just like to play with your food?” You asked.

“You don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it, pet.” He smirked, tapping your chin with his finger.

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“Let’s just say your sample was more than satisfactory, I have no reason to take back my word just yet.”

Yet. And yet, he was actually letting you go.

“I’ll see to it that you make it home safely,” He began. But before he could finish speaking you were eagerly sliding off of his lap.

His hands caught your waist easily, one holding you steady and the other firmly grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing you to look him in his eyes.

“Remember, I call, you answer. As long as you abide by my rules we won’t have a problem.”

You nodded quickly, his words barely registering in your brain as your body took control. You would agree to anything that would keep you alive.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

~~~~~~

Days had passed since that night at Blood Sugar, days where Jin had not tried to contact you, days that you spent isolated in your house - a wave of agoraphobia so strong that the thought of passing a threshold frightened you to the bone which was beyond ironic considering your situation. But those days also led to you trying to convince yourself it had all been a bad dream.

If the encounter at Blood Sugar had in fact been real, you had little to show for it. The skin of your throat was smooth and untouched despite the fangs that you were certain had torn through it like paper. The only parting gift you had was the urge to sleep for days, a splitting headache, and a touch of soreness around your ribs where you were sure his arms had once restrained you.

Pretending it hadn’t happened was easier on your mind. Your whole world had been turned upside down and the monsters you once thought to be the stuff of stories had been pulled from the shadows and abruptly thrust into the light. It was easier to pretend it was a dream. But you couldn’t shake those blood-red eyes from your memories nor the show of pure strength that had been demonstrated against Junghee - her once perfect face that was so easily disfigured by the elder vampire.

You were afraid of death and the realization that it actually lurked at every eerie corner and you had sat in its lap like a contented house cat was enough to fry the connections in your brain.

And you could only pretend for so long. You could only ignore reality for so long.

It had been three weeks since you had seen him when he finally confirmed his existence in the form of a simple text.

“Hungry, you know where to find me.”

And that made your blood run cold. It was time to finally face reality, you had actually made a deal with a vampire and now he was cashing in on your promise. It was donate or die.

And in an absolute panic, you made a terrible decision. You placed your phone face down and retreated beneath your blankets like a small child hiding from the boogeyman.

Your phone did not cease to remind you that you had made a bad decision. The messages started sporadically - spread out throughout the hour. But Jin’s impatience grew as did the texts and calls. The eerie silence of your bedroom filled with a continuous buzzing as your phone continued to vibrate until you couldn’t take it anymore and without looking at a single message you shut down your phone. But that only brought temporary relief.

You were begrudgingly pulled from the safety of your bed that day for an inspection your landlord had scheduled two days prior. There was no getting out of it and in your mind, it was a welcome distraction from the spiraling anxiety you felt when you thought about your powered-down phone.

You had no way of knowing that their presence would only worsen the problem that you had created.

You were generally a quiet person that kept to yourself around strangers, especially strangers that had a say in whether you continued living in your home or not. You practically stuck yourself to the walls as she inspected your home, and while your landlord was not necessarily a mean woman she wasn’t very chatty. You two got along in those regards.

You were able to breathe when she gave you an awkward, tight-lipped smile, waved, and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone you rushed back into your bedroom and just barely pulled your curtains aside to peer out your window and watch her retreat. But when you did look out that window you felt your blood run cold. She was still there, standing on the walkway, and directly in front of her was him. It was twilight out, the sun still desperately trying to cling to a purple and ochre colored sky. It was safe for him to be out. He was giving her a charming smile, one that anyone would fall over at the sight of. You could see him laugh and then say a few words but you were too far away to make out what they were. And then to your utmost horror, she walked away and he made his way up the front steps.

You were frozen, your muscles tense, and refused to move. You held your breath as you listened. There was no way that he could get in, you hadn’t given him permission. But all of your hope washed out of you when you heard the front door’s knob turn and the soft click of it leaving the frame. There were a few light steps and then the door shut once more.

He was inside the house.

You felt absolutely helpless as all you could do was wait for him to find you. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you were cornered.

It was only a matter of seconds before he did find you, a stern and angry expression clear on his face as he rounded the banister and the stairs and stood right outside the door frame of your room. His eyes were different now, they weren’t the vibrant red that you remembered. They were a deep burgundy now, almost black as they stared back at you with intensity. You couldn’t even make out the difference between his pupils and his irises. It was a bottomless, dark gaze.

“How did you get in?” You asked, the words rushing out of you to your own surprise.

One of his dark brows quirked, whether it was in surprise or irritation you did not know.

“Elaine let me in,” He said with a stomach-turning grin.

Your landlord. She technically owned the house, she could let him in even if you didn’t invite him.

“I thought I made myself clear when we spoke, did I not?” He asked rhetorically, “I call, you answer, I feed, you keep your life. What part of that did your little human brain not comprehend?”

“You called me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“My phone died-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” He snapped, his voice shockingly loud and incomposed.

You flinched back against the wall as he finally entered your room only to stop dead in his tracks not more than five feet away. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his fangs descended on instinct.

The two of you stood there, both staring at each other and refusing to move, waiting for the other to act first.

Jin was the one to break the stalemate.

“You’re on your period.”

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, warmth radiating beneath your skin in response. He could smell it, that was the only explanation and that was a mortifying thought that had you pressing your thighs together, tight and closed.

He looked shaken, frazzled, and incredibly unlike himself. His rage was forgotten, his hunger controlling him. He was gripping the footboard of your bed, the skin of his knuckles stretched taut as he held onto it like he was keeping himself grounded.

“I want a taste,” He said, staring you down without a single blink.

It took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said, and as soon as you connected the dots you were anchoring yourself to the wall and vehemently shaking your head.

“No, no way!”

“Yes,”

“No! That’s messy and gross and I never agreed to do anything like that with you!

“I’m hungry,” He hissed, “And you expect me to just leave when you smell like fucking heaven?”

“Yes, because everything about this is crazy! I don’t know you, I never wanted to find you and now I’m stuck with you until you ultimately decide to kill me so I’m sorry that you’re hungry but it’s not even my problem in the first place!”

That was the one upside to being on your period, the influx of hormones allowed you to become confrontational.

“I’ll pay you double for a feed directly from the source,” He said with gritted teeth.

Jin was never one to bargain, usually he would leave a deal with far more than the other party. But this was something he refused to pass up. Vampires, very often, had little to no inhibitions especially when it came to sex. Sex was often a co-occurrence with feeding, and menstruation was the epitome of that. He didn’t expect a pathetic little human like you to understand. You were fettered by mortal concepts that had forced you to believe you were to be a social pariah during that time, that it was “gross,” as you had said. Little did you know you were considered a delicacy in his world, ripe for the taking. And he knew how delicious you were when he fed from the vein, his mouth watered at the thought of what it would be like now.

Your silence to his proposition only frustrated him even more.

“Do you know how many people would die to be in your position right now? I’ve had women beg to be on their knees for me and I’m offering to pay you to do the opposite.”

You were sure that he was telling the truth because he certainly was the most breathtaking man you had ever seen in your entire life. But what confused you was why he didn’t just throw you down and do as he pleased. He was bigger than you, stronger than you, and far faster than you. If he wanted it as badly as he claimed, why was he bargaining with you? You could only assume it was the lingering effects of the era he had lived in. While he was an asshole, perhaps he took no joy in forcing himself on a woman in that manner.

And then there was the money. Rent wasn’t cheap, that was for sure. And not many people could say that they were paid to be pleasured. It wasn’t a terrible offer, and the last thing you wanted to do was displease a vampire that could kill you and had threatened to do so before.

Shit.

“You wont hurt me?” You asked, your voice wavered.

“Quite the opposite,” He smirked. He knew that he had won.

A gasp of surprise parted your lips as he closed the distance between you, moving so fast that a gust of wind whipped up ruffling your hair and sending loose pages of paper tumbling from your desk. Your heart stuttered in fright, every minute you spent with him only served as a reminder of how dangerous he was. This arrangement you had with him was dangerous, you were toeing the line between life and death and that thought made your stomach turn in unease. He was a vampire, an apex predator, a creature that you had stopped believing in long ago, but also the undead embodiment of death. The very thing you feared the most. All it would take is one moment of frenzy, a lack of control and you would be left to bleed out in your sheets with no one to come and find your remains for weeks to pass.

You didn’t want to die, but you knew he wouldn’t let you live.

The touch of his cold fingers to your waist brought you back to him as he tugged you toward your bed, pressing you down onto the sheets before moving over you like an animal on the hunt. His eyes were pitch black, the veins beneath them prominent, and his fangs dangerously grazed his plump lips. He looked like a fallen angel, like Lucifer himself, the most beautiful outcast of them all.

An involuntary cry of fright left you as he moved impossibly fast once more, his face now level with the side of your head, the tip of his nose just barely brushing over your cheek as he chuckled. Even his breath was frigid.

“You’re nervous,” He hummed in delight, “Careful now, we wouldn’t want your heart to stop, would we?”

He could feel the violent, rapid thumps of your heart where his chest was pressed against yours. It had been a long time since he had had a human like this, oftentimes he found it too annoying. They were fragile creatures and having to restrain himself was rather inconvenient, but he preferred his partners to be responsive when he had his way with them, unlike some of his kind who couldn’t care either way. Was it still necrophilia if both parties were technically dead?

And while your heart was making itself known, you could feel nothing in response. His heart didn’t beat like yours, it had gone silent long ago and that thought only reminded you of just how wrong this entire thing was. He was dead, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around how he also seemed so very alive and while that scared you deeply, it also ignited a disturbing thought within you. But that thought was quickly halted when he noticed your lack of attention on him.

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him.

An annoyed growl rumbled in his throat as he moved back, quickly going down the length of your body and ripping your shorts down your legs, exposing you to the cold air.

“Jin wait-” It felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs as he ignored you, plunging his face directly in between your thighs.

He was unlike any of the partners you had had before. He did not take his time even though he evidently had plenty of it. He didn’t warm you up with gentle words, pleasing touches, or lingering kisses. Instead, he was absolutely ravenous. It was just like he said, he was hungry. But you, on the other hand, had not been prepared in the slightest for how sensitive you would be.

You could only whine in discomfort as you tried to clench your thighs closed, one hand coming down to push at his shoulder. Your actions were completely useless, no matter how much force you could use it was like pushing against a concrete wall - he was immovable.

You could feel him growl in annoyance which only sent a shock throughout your body, your hips twitching and your shoulder blades digging into the mattress. His fingers were harshly pressing against your thighs, forcing them open wider and hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could get impossibly closer to you.

“Too - too much!” You barely managed to get the words out, your body jolting from sharp bursts of pleasure.

“Be a good pet and take it for me,” He crooned, parting from you for a mere moment to look up at you - his bright crimson eyes cutting through the darkness that had steadily filled the room. “I thought you said you would do anything to keep your life?”

You couldn’t explain the feeling that his words gave you, but the shame that lingered was recognizable. Shame that enduring pleasure to ensure your survival was an addictive cocktail of emotions.

You couldn’t even form a response in time before he returned back to his feeding, his soft lips and firm tongue caressing you in a way that made you realize he was actively trying to make you feel good instead of solely focusing on gorging himself on your blood. You had no way of knowing that that just made the feed all the more enjoyable, the rush of hormones in your body only adding to the flavor. It was a flavor he already knew he was addicted to and while he was reluctant to admit it to himself, it was a flavor he could not live without.

And with each feed there were more problems to come. While he knew his blood, saliva, and venom were incredibly intoxicating to your weakened human state - he underestimated the effect you would have on him. With all of the hormones his bite coaxed out of you there was one pesky one that affected him: oxytocin. It was a bonding hormone, one that fostered a relationship between feeder and donator which was why so many vampires rarely fed from the same human more than once typically preferring to drain the body dry and dump it anywhere to rot.

He was willingly making himself vulnerable to you all in order to get another fix, another hit of your blood. And the worst part was, he didn’t mind.

“Jin!” You cried.

He was disgusted with himself, disgusted by the way his body shuddered and was aflame with tingles at the mere moan of his name rolling off of your lips. It was nothing special, countless others had done it before you, but he couldn’t understand why it was you. Why were you special?

He could blame it on the damn hormone bond all he wanted, but this was only the second feed which meant, to his utmost horror, it was him. His interest in you, a human, was more than just superficial desire.

Oh, how far he had fallen.

He smelled your salty tears and he could even see the gleam of them as they rolled down the curves of your cheeks as your hips pitched forward, broken whimpers wracking your body that only served to drive him crazier. He could drown in you and it still wouldn’t be enough.

And as soon as all of the tension within you snapped he was digging his fangs into the meat of your thigh, fresh, hot blood rushing over his tongue and down his throat. The blend was intoxicating for not only him but for you as well - the bite secreting venom that doubled the effects of all of his efforts that lit your brain and body on fire. You could become addicted to him just as easily as he was to you because that feeling, that feeling was indescribable and would never be able to be replicated by anyone but him. Just as he was chasing you for his fix, you could easily see yourself doing the same.

When you came too, you were startled by the gentle touch of his tongue to the puncture wounds on your thigh. It soothed over the cuts rhythmically, urging the skin to sew itself back together again. And while he worked, he stared. Bright, crimson red eyes were trained on you. His gaze dark and dangerous. Your body that had once been limp and relaxed immediately tensed once more. The knowledge that a predator was nestled into your lap was enough to reignite fear in your chest. You feared that the slightest twitch or breath would signal for him to lunge again, but this time the outcome would not be so pleasurable for you.

But Jin was a man of his word. You didn’t die that night and your bank account was fed in due course.

This continued for the next six days. Whereas before it seemed like the vampire was able to abstain from feeding for as long as he wished, he had now become ensnared by a ravenous, bottomless hunger. And that was all the more frightening. But what was even more frightening was the way he began to change.

He was still rude, cold, and dominating. But he had become ever present. His closeness could be described as suffocating. The only solitude you could find was in the daylight, but the minute the sun began to set he was back and hungrier than before. And after the…feeding, he would linger. He would touch you more often, his words still snarky but lacking their usual bite. It was like he was becoming comfortable around you. He was still insufferable, but undeniably comfortable.

It was that comfortability that encouraged you to entertain that dark thought you had tried to smother before. Your ever present fear of death could easily be solved, the answer to your problem mere inches away from you. You understood the gravity of the situation, what it would mean to become something like him. But you couldn’t deny the truth that you could live with ending the lives of others if it meant you could sustain your own. You didn’t want to die, you couldn’t fathom dying, and you had an undead man at your disposal. If he was willing.

It was after your seventh session together that you decided to finally ask him. His cherry red lips were pressed against your throat, swallowing every last drop of blood that slid down your skin. Your neck stung and your body thrummed with ecstasy, your fingers cupping the back of his head on reflex - moving without your permission.

“Jin?” You asked.

He hummed in response, visibly enthralled by the feed but letting you know he was listening anyway.

“I want to be like you,” You whispered.

A slick pop echoed in the room, his fangs pulled from your neck and retracted into his mouth, disappearing from sight. His eyes narrowed, his dark brows drawing together in confusion and distaste.

“No,” He simply said, retreating to the foot of your bed.

“Why not?”

“Because you would be useless to me, that’s why. What good is a donor that’s dead?” He scoffed.

You couldn’t deny the ache you felt in your chest, the sting that “useless” struck against your heart.

“You’re…you’re going to grow tired of me eventually. I’ll get old, I won’t taste as good anymore. Then, I’ll be useless.”

“Oh, I plan to savor every last drop that you can offer. I won’t let you go to waste like that, you are mine after all.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? You’ll just kill me before I go bad? Put me out of my misery before I can rot? I’m a fucking human being not a piece of meat!” You yelled, angrily standing up from your bed.

You expected him to become enraged, to become violent. But if anything he was deathly calm, still, and silent.

“Wouldn’t that be a kindness,” he stood from the bed, now towering over you, “To not have to grow older, to be in pain? To just stop here where you’re perfect, when you’re young and beautiful?” He said with a soft caress down your cheek.

“But you could give me what I want,” You pleaded, “You would never have to see me again, I could go far away and I wouldn’t be your problem anymore.”

A frown pulled at his lips, frustration falling over his features, “It’s not as simple as that. You would be bound to me, there are rules about these things.”

“Rules? Like laws, is there someone in charge of you?”

“Don’t bring that Twilight bullshit into this,” He hissed, running his hands through his hair in what appeared to be distress.

“Then I don’t understand, why can’t you do this for me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked! I’ve given you everything you wanted so that I could stay alive! Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to die!”

“Because you don’t understand what you’re asking for!” He snapped.

In that moment, he was brought back to that fateful day all those years ago. Yoongi had warned him, he had tried to stop him and he hadn’t listened. And now, he was being faced with a painful reminder of his naivety and arrogance when he stared back at you. Jin never regretted becoming a vampire. He never regretted his inability to grow old or the only way he was able to satiate his hunger. He enjoyed it. But if there was anything he didn’t enjoy, it was being under the control of someone else.

“We would be connected for the rest of eternity. Anything I ask of you, you have to do. You can’t deny me even if you tried. And even if you ran, you would eventually come back whether you wanted to or not. I would be your sire, your creator, you couldn’t hurt me no matter how badly you want to. We would be stuck together, do you understand?”

If there was anything he was afraid of, which he would never admit to, it would be having to rely on someone like that. It would be loving you, obsessively loving you like he felt the desire to creep over him. While he refused to admit it, all of those feeds had done their toll. He could feel the tugs of a weak bond forming between you - begging to be strengthened by a little of his own blood and a swift death. If you stayed human, he could save you from the fate he suffered through. And if he killed you, then no one else could have you. It was insane, but to him it was incredibly logical.

You had been quiet for quite some time, your face pensive before you finally spoke.

“That doesn’t sound all that different from our current arrangement.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” He yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him and flinging it across the room in a show of strength and anger. So this was what Yoongi felt like.

“You’ve exhausted your usefulness to me,” He spat in rage, “Good luck defending yourself on your own.”

And just like that, he was gone. The only remainder of his presence was the broken chair that lay in pieces on the ground and the huge dent in the plaster from where it had hit.

You couldn’t stop the sudden wave of tears that poured down your face. That had been your only way to cheat death, and he wouldn’t give it to you after you had given him every piece of yourself that he had asked for.

The silence was loud, your sniffles and your pounding heart painfully apparent. But what was even more apparent, was the sense of paranoia steadily creeping over you.

What did you have to defend yourself from now that he was gone?

~~~~~~~

Jin was starving.

Even he was not so thick-headed that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He was throwing a temper tantrum.

He had left you for a month now in what was supposed to be a break that would teach you a lesson. You weren’t allowed to make demands from him, you weren’t the one in control. But if there was anything he had learned from his pathetic plan, it was that you were very much in control.

You had managed to burrow your way into his unwilling, stone cold heart. A feat that no one in his human and vampiric life had managed to do. The very thought itself made his stomach turn. He had never had to depend on anyone else, he never wanted commitment in that sense. Yet here he was yearning for you, a pathetic little hermit. His pathetic little hermit.

He let out an audible groan, collapsing back against one of the velvet couches in the club. The blue and red lights flashed over his face, his stomach rumbled in pain. He had thought it would only take a week for you to break, just a few days before you apologized and begged for him to come back. But he had greatly underestimated you.

It had been a month and he hadn’t fed. Everyone else paled in comparison, their blood sitting on his tongue like spoiled milk; he couldn’t even manage to swallow a drop. And that was completely his fault. This was why he was warned not to keep feeding from the same source. You were bonded now and he was suffering because of it.

He had never felt so backed into a corner before. And the fact that it was all because of a human was just salt in the wound. He thought that time would sever the bond but in reality, distance had just made it grow stronger.

Even now he was certain that he could smell your scent sifting through the hazy air, it’s tendrils beckoning him to come find you.

It was the prick of his fangs against his lip and the sudden pool of saliva flooding his mouth that made him realize it was anything but a fantasy. You were there. A wave of satisfaction rolled over him, you had broken first in a stalemate that you were unaware of. He had won. But any excitement he felt about his win was quickly thwarted when he was reminded of the present danger. You, who smelled so heavenly, had once more crawled into a nest of vampires.

He quickly lurched to his feet, cutting through the crowds of vampires and humans alike in order to find you. You were in the most dangerous spot in Briar Hills and he could not protect you. His abstinence had greatly weakened him, he could only hope that no one else would be aware of that. He was the eldest there and he was in charge, that should be enough to keep everyone else away from you.

Well, all except one.

You hadn’t even seen her coming, her or her “friends.” You had just barely managed to step foot inside the bunker before she was ripping you back outside, moving so quickly that your head was spinning and your neck burned with whiplash.

You moaned in pain, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other dug into the damp earth in an attempt to ground yourself from the violent pounding that vibrated all throughout your head. At first you were utterly dumbstruck, confused as to what exactly happened. But the swift kick of a pointy shoe to your ribs rolled you onto your back and allowed you to be faced with four pairs of glowing red eyes.

The pain in your head was quickly overshadowed by the hot shooting pain in your ribs. Your spinning head could just barely register the loud crack that had sounded when you were kicked. What looked to be an effortless, swift strike from her was enough to break your ribs.

“Hello sweetheart,” A familiar, sickeningly sweet voice crooned.

It was her, that vampire from a month ago. The one that Jin had saved you from.

Cold shocks ran through your body as you panted, grabbing your side as you tried to scoot away.

“Ah, ah, ah,” She teased, grabbing you by your ankle and roughly pulling you back. Another sickening pop echoed through the night as a violent scream tore its way free from your throat.

“Now, I’m not letting you get away from me so easily this time. You really pissed me off, and now you’re going to give me what I want.”

You had no time to react and nowhere to run to. She and her friends descended on you like a pack of hungry vultures. They ripped at clothing and jostled you around like a toy they didn’t want to share. And all four of them dug into you. With Jin, there had been little to no pain. But this was the worst pain of your life. You could feel teeth digging into you, ruthlessly cutting through your flesh and ripping it apart. Hot, thick blood was pouring out of your wounds, drenching your skin and your clothes in an instant.

There was nothing you could do but scream, cry, and shake.

You were helpless and soon you were going to die. You had no doubt that they had every intention to bleed you dry. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Your greatest fear was suddenly becoming a reality and there was absolutely nothing that you could do about it. Death spared no one, especially you.

And for a moment you thought that death really had come for you because the pain was suddenly wrenched away.

You laid there, groaning in pain as you listened to what was happening. You could hear her low, sultry voice, the sounds of hits landing, and a deep, rumbling growl that shook you to your very core. It wasn’t death, but it was a close second. Jin had found you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes and look, you struggled to turn your head but when you did your heart dropped. Half of her group collapsed, in various states of injury. But Jin was the worst. He was barely managing to stand and he looked so weak. His cheeks were gaunt compared to the last time you had seen him, the veins beneath his eyes prominent and exposed. But worse of all, he was coated in his own blood. It stuck to him like an oil spill, pouring from wounds that were trying to heal themselves albeit very slowly. He wasn’t going to make it out of this; he was too hurt, too weak, too hungry, and outnumbered.

“I knew it,” Junghee giggled, her voice pitchy with murderous glee. “I could smell you all over her, you bonded with her!”

Jin said nothing. He wobbled, his chest rose and fell rapidly with angered breaths.

“Oh, how far you’ve fallen, Jin,” She sneered, “So high and mighty and look at you now. You’re no better than the rest of us - in fact you’re weaker than us! I’m so sick and tired of living under you and your rules, I think it’s time someone replaces that coven of yours. It’s time for a new jurisdiction.”

“I’ll give you one chance to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness,” He said with a deathly calm voice.

“I’m going to rip you apart and burn the pieces. And when I’m finished with you, I’m going to drain your little pet dry.” She said with a cocky grin.

Jin hummed in response, his head slightly tilting back as he thought. His eyes seemed to glow even more intensely in the dark, a ring of light shining around his irises as he spoke.

“That’s an interesting idea. Tear each other apart.”

You stared in shock as they immediately obeyed his command. It was mind-control, he could compel individuals to do his bidding. How many times had he used it on you and you had gone on unaware of it?

All four of them turned on one another, rushing at each other with abandon. It looked like they were marionettes, like someone else was controlling their limbs and forcing them to do as he commanded. You watched as the four of them attacked each other, clawing at their friends and prying their limbs from their bodies. The sounds were horrific. You could hear them screaming, crying, gurgling, and begging for it to end as they tortured one another. Black blood sprayed and stained their hands and faces as they ripped each other apart limb by limb.

Your stomach rolled at the sight, your wounds flashed hot with pain, and your ribs and ankle throbbed in sympathy as they violently mutilated each other until they couldn’t reach one another anymore - their limbs dismembered and useless.

You choked down the bile that threatened to escape your throat. They had tried to kill you, they were getting what they deserved. They were going to do the same to you and Jin.

Jin.

You caught sight of the vampire a few feet away from you. He had fallen to the ground after he had issued the command. His body was unnervingly still, his skin ashen and the sickliest pallor you had ever seen. He was dying, you were sure of it. That was something you had thought to be impossible for his kind but here he was proving you wrong. It was possible, but hard to do.

You felt a surge of adrenaline wash over you. You couldn’t let him die, he was your one chance to avoid that very same fate. You needed him just as much as he needed you. If you could help him then he would owe you. You could get the immortality that you were desperate for.

You cried out in pain as you rolled onto your side and crawled to him. Each inch you moved felt like you were being stabbed along the way. Your body was crying in protest but you were on a mission.

When you finally closed the distance between you, you could breathe a sigh of relief. He was hurt badly, but he was still “alive,” if not barely.

You grabbed him by his shoulders and slowly, painfully, dragged him into your lap. Your body threatened to crumble beneath his weight as you guided his head to the open wound on your neck. This was a risk, a really big risk. You were hurt badly and you had already lost so much blood, but you were sure that he would be able to stop.

“Come on, Jin,” You encouraged him, cupping the back of his head with your hand, “Come on drink, you need to drink.”

You felt a cool puff of breath on your neck, his nose slightly skimming over your pulse as the scent of blood pulled him out of unconsciousness. And as soon as he was awake, his predatory instincts took control. He lunged forward, wrapping you up in a vice like grip as he dug his fangs into the already open wound.

You hissed but held still, allowing him to get his fill. He was scarily inhuman at that moment. Jin had fed from you many times, but he had never been like this before. Silent, overbearing, and territorial.

Your eyes began to flutter, they were feeling incredibly heavy and it was becoming hard to keep them open. You had lost too much blood, you were still losing too much blood.

“Jin,” You croaked, “You need to stop.”

He ignored you and continued drinking, only digging his fangs in harder to force more blood from your throat.

“Jin please stop, please,” You cried, “You’re going to kill me!”

When you realized he wasn’t responding, that he was too enthralled by the feeding frenzy, you began to fight. You tugged at his hair, pushed at his shoulders, kicked at him with your good leg but it all was for nothing.

He let out an animalistic growl, squeezing you tighter before roughly shoving you to the ground and pinning your wrists above your head. He groaned in delight as your fighting ceased, as your blood flowed more easily into his waiting mouth.

You were fading fast, your visions steadily beginning to black out around the edges. He was going to kill you, and just like before there was nothing you could do about it. You were utterly helpless.

Your own desires would be your downfall. Just like Icarus, you had flown too close to the sun.

~~~~~~~

When Jin came to, he was confused.

He couldn’t remember anything after he had ordered Junghee and her coven to dismember one another. But when he became aware, he quickly figured out what had happened. Their corpses were sprawled about, their limbs still occasionally twitching.

And you were there, scarily still in his arms with the remnants of your blood on his lips.

He didn’t expect a wave of grief to wash over him. He hadn’t felt that even when his own family died or when he watched them mourn the loss of a son that never truly perished. But the sight of you, your broken body limp in his arms was enough to force a choked sob out of him. It was painful, it was complete and utter despair.

It was in that moment that he realized he did love you. In some horrific twist of fate, he loved you. He once thought that he would be able to kill you, then no one else could have you. But he didn’t anticipate the pain that it would cause him.

A soft, weak flutter halted all grief he felt. It was your heart. Your little human heart was still trying to beat. You could still be saved.

That was how he ended up here, with the only person he knew that could fix you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing with all your free time.” Namjoon hummed, checking over your vitals.

Jin stayed quiet, nervously clenching and unclenching his fingers. At that moment, he understood what Yoongi went through. If he believed in karma, which he didn’t, he would have been able to appreciate it. This was what he deserved after what he put Yoongi and the fledgling through. But Jin was far more determined to keep you human than his “brother” ever was.

But it was undeniable that he could finally understand him. He finally knew what Yoongi was trying to protect him from all those years ago.

“Junghee really did a number on her. I’ve given her an awful lot of my blood to heal her wounds. It would just take one quick break, Jin. You said it yourself, this is what she wanted.” He mused.

“She’s my pet, nothing more. She’s useless to me as one of us, I want to make her last as long as I can.” He said with a warning glare.

“It’s useless, you know, lying to me. I could smell it on you the second you came through the door. You bonded with her, she’s yours now. Do with her what you will, but she will join us soon. Whether it’s you or me, well that’s entirely up to her. But I have a feeling she would let any of us do it at this point.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but I would. Remember this, everything I do is for our family. You helped me with Yoongi, you understood then what I was trying to do. You can keep playing with her for a little longer, but she will join us. Don’t make me command you, Jin.”

Jin’s back stiffened, that familiar tug in his brain was there. That feeling that he needed to fulfill his creator’s wishes. And so, he bought himself some time.

“I don’t think it’s her you need to be worried about,” Jin said, that cocky edge to his voice back once more.

“Oh really?” Namjoon asked, leaning forward in interest.

“When was the last time you checked in on Hoseok?”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in thought. Jin had got him, this was what he was good at - misdirection.

“Hoseok too?” He mumbled to himself. “Don’t you find it odd that this is all happening now? Yoongi and the fledgling, you and your pet, Taehyung and the little human he keeps in his studio, and now Hoseok? How interesting.”

He knew about Taehyung? But he hadn’t said anything about Jimin or Jungkook. He didn’t know everything. He had two more bargaining chips to buy himself more time.

“Watch over her, make sure she doesn’t hemorrhage. You’ve done a good thing, Jin. Thank you.” Namjoon said before briskly leaving the room - his office that now served as a hospital for you.

He wasn’t so sure that he had done a good thing. He was paying for what he had done to Yoongi now, what would come to him next now that he sold out Hoseok. And what about Jungkook and Jimin, what would happen when he revealed their secrets as well.

That was all he could think about as he waited for you to wake up. Namjoon’s blood was doing a thorough job. He was old and strong and because of that your body was mending itself incredibly quickly.

The only thing he hated was that you smelled like him. It was Namjoon’s blood in your body and because of that you were practically emanating his scent. Your normal heavenly essence was murky in the haze of his creator’s and it would take some time for it to dissipate. He was going to have to live with it for the time being. For now, he needed to figure out how he was going to protect you from the fledgling and from Hoseok. One was hungry and the other was certainly going to be pissed with him.

But if he could keep you like this for a little while longer it was worth it.

Your heart monitor was starting to accelerate, the beeping became loud and frequent. You were awake.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and he felt his stomach drop. You were giving him the thousand yard stare, your frail body tense on the mattress. You were utterly and completely frightened of him.

Your name left his lips in a hushed whisper as he stood, moving closer to your bedside. You shrieked and huddled into the furthest corner that you could.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to block yourself off from him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his tone the softest it had ever been, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let me go, I want to leave. I don’t want to see you ever again, I want to go home!” You were rambling now, every frightened word running out of you with a gasp.

“You can’t leave, it’s too late now.” He said apologetically. He had never apologized before.

“I want to leave!” You screamed again, “You tried to kill me! You said you wouldn’t but you did! You lied, you’re a fucking liar!”

“I’m in control now, that’s never going to happen again I swear.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” You screamed again, your words trailing off with a broken sob.

He had felt grief when he thought he had killed you, but now he was experiencing heartbreak. His first, genuine heartbreak. He thought seeing your lifeless body was bad, but this, this was somehow worse.

He was suddenly overcome with the urge to comfort you, to hold you. And so he tried. The second he picked you up you began to writhe, screaming obscenities at him and clawing at his skin. You were trying to do anything you could to get away from him.

The last time he had held you like this, held you this close, he had tried to kill you. Your body and mind were completely in survival mode now and you needed to get away from him.

But he wouldn’t let you budge. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped you in a tight embrace, pinning your arms in between the two of you so that you couldn’t hurt yourself while trying to hurt him. All you could do was scream and cry and writhe but eventually your body went lax when you realized it was pointless. There was no escape.

Your brush with death had only made you more frightened of it. You had met that dark, empty void and the void had stared back at you. What some might have found to be peaceful, you had found to be terrifying. And, as a result, you were terrified of Jin. He had brought you to that void and your body was certain he would escort you back.

“I’m sorry,” He finally said, the words not burning him like he once thought they would for the longest time. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffled as you limply laid in his hold. You could feel the soft touch of his lips against your cheeks, collecting your tears as they brushed by in the lightest of kisses.

“Never again,” He mumbled, “I promise.”

You whimpered once more, the word liar echoing in your mind.

“I’ll give you what you want, I swear. You’ll never be that close to death again, I’ll keep you safe. Just give me time.”

You slightly perked in interest. What you want…what you want. He’ll give you what you want. You tilted your head up at the same time he went to kiss your forehead, only for him to gently kiss you instead. He froze for a moment, still as a statue as he processed what he had done before he did it again, and again, and again. It was like he had discovered a new insatiable hunger that he couldn’t settle no matter how many times he tried.

“I love you,” He admitted so softly against your lips that you thought you had imagined it.

He loved you. He was going to give you what you wanted. You had almost died. He was a liar. Your mind was reeling.

“No one else can have you, not even death can take you away from me; because you’re mine, remember?”

#bts x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jin #bts fanfic #yandere jin x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #vampire jin #vampire jin x reader #yandere vampire #vampire bts #vampire bts x reader #predator universe #yandere vampire jin #yandere vampire jin x reader

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wildbluesorbit · 10 months

Text

London || JTK

18+MDNI

Paring: asshole!Jakexreader(f)

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! I can’t even tell y’all how nervous I am; this is my first fic AND the first smut I’ve ever written. I’m a Third Eye Blind freak and just generally think this song is one of the sexiest songs in existence so naturally I knew I wanted to write this fic. Big big love and thank you’s for my editor @tommie-gvf. I loved writing this so much and didn’t think it could get any better until I saw everyone’s reactions.❤️‍🩹

I ask for your patience as I’m a beginner and am very open to criticism. Pretty please tell me what you think!

Summary || Jake has a lover that lives in London. He visits her every time he’s in town, but recently the simmering situationship has taken a toxic turn.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcohol consumption, party setting, toxic relationship, jealousy, over possession, verbal aggression, slight physical aggression, big angst, graphic sexual depictions

Kink Content || dom(m) and sub(f) shift, [semi] public sex, dirty talk; praise & [public] degradation, sadism, zelophilia, katoptronophilia, daddy kink, slight impact play, nipple play, dry humping, hand job, ejaculation(f), oral sex(f receiving), penetrational sex

Word Count || 8.3k+

*disclaimer - I have no idea how to write any European, reader’s origin is up for interpretation*

You continue to refresh your phone screen in hopes that it will load a new message or maybe even reveal a glitch.

“You know,” your best friend, Claire, aspires to tempt you back to reality, “that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we got here, right?”

A hum in acknowledgment of her bait is the only thing your split attention will allow as you proceed in refreshing your messages. Even going as far to restart your phone.

“He's kind of cute,” you return another hum as she sings further, “like really cute.”

“Go on then, have a go,” you try to push her self-assigned matchmaking duties back on her.

You have no choice but to be shoved back into the rumbustious surroundings of the overpopulated flat party as your phone is suddenly ripped from your hands. Claire raises it above her head not even bothering to investigate what might be holding you hostage. She is well aware of your antics.

“Please don’t tell me you're texting him again,” she lifts the device higher as you futilely lunge for it.

“He said he was coming,” you begin to gather a defense, “but I haven’t gotten a response since I sent the address… maybe hold my phone a bit higher?”

Claire lets out a monstrous groan of frustration and rolls her eyes, “You really are helpless!”

“I know,” you repine and give her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and hold two starving hands out in front of you.

Begrudgingly she gives in, slamming your phone against your awaiting palms. As soon as your phone is back in your possession you return to refreshing your messages, all in vain of course.

Whenever Jake was in London he always visited you, sometimes even flying you out to whatever part of Europe his show was in or just because he wanted to see you. A trail of one night stands that became ritual.

The nights always started out modest, the two of you innocently traipsing about parties and bars accompanied by his brothers. You would all share drinks and stories for hours, belly laughing until you were ceased by sore ribs, as if you had all been friends for decades.

Nevertheless without fail, as the drinks poured further so did Jake’s appetite for you. He'd always shadow you with some kind of seemingly harmless touch; a hand on the small of your back progressed into squeezing your knee and then thigh, to tugging you into him by the waist when he was made uncomfortable or wanted to share a secret amongst chaotic surroundings.

One by one, his brothers would slowly fade out; Sam first, then Danny, and Josh was always the last to let the party die, taking it with him when he went. From that point, the evenings between you and Jake would morph into a primitive and sensual burn. Teasing and tearing at each other until the two of you eventually spent the rest of your night curled around the other. Once again, darting back to your guarded bubble of shy soft intimacy; neither of you willing to accept it was different from anything else anyone made you feel. Time spent together was something the both of you always rushed through days for, memories neatly placed in a treasure chest of beloved keepsakes when it was over.

But lately, it was different. Something brittle and bitter had blossomed. Jake had gotten only bigger and busier. Sometimes, he’d pule about missing you so naturally you’d beg to see him. He’d send beautiful trinkets and fine clothing from whatever part of the world he was in that next week to ineffectively make up for his absence no token would ever emulate.

Though you are elated for him, you are also acutely aware of your need to move on in order to outrun the pining tidal wave that threatens to swallow you whole. You’d tried before, but no man was Jake. And seeing you with other men only spelled him into a envious fit. A sight that tormented you both, the other too afraid to cry out as nothing was ever set in stone.

So instead you’d go to war over some irrelative thing and he’d ultimately swear on his beloved he didn’t give a shit about you and when or if he’d see you again; only to gift you some pretty peace offering in amends to offset the vigorous cycle once again.

Like a vinyl record against the needle, the two of you are going round and round the same circle; different songs, same sonic. You know if the pattern continues, you are slowly headed towards the dead wax. You hope tonight will mend the broken pieces between you as he vowed he’d come to spoil you a few weeks ago.

“You need to cut him off,” Claire has stated her stance on the situationship brazenly before, “all he does is treat you like shit. He entertains you from a distance and keeps you waiting until he wants to get his dick wet.”

Having been through this debate with her many times, you only frown and exhale, “It's not like that and you know it.”

She mirrors your disapproval, “Isn’t it?”

Just as you are forming your rebuttal your phone buzzes in your hands; confiscating your ability to exist anywhere other than your screen. It might as well have looked like you were going to dial 9-9-9 the way you dementedly scramble to open your phone.

JAKE:

Hey, angel. Sorry, I got stuck at this dive with my brothers and now they don’t want to leave. I think we’re just going to spend the rest of the night here. Maybe I’ll catch you next time?

You had not been enjoying your time at this party. You had been ignoring your best friend. You had been ignoring cute flirty strangers. You had been exuberantly anticipating Jake’s company tonight for months. All to be left on read, pathetically pining for hours now; all so you could be stood up by the man.

Your chest bursts with flames of mortified resentment, fueled by his impudence. Irate does not even scratch the surface of how your heart pounds. Your blood is scalding, skin scorching.

Jake made you feel stupid yet again.

Your face must give you away before you can even get out a word of impertinence as you look up from the insolent text to see Claire smugly sipping her drink.

A knowing smirk spreads viral across her face, “He's not coming, is he?”

The last thing you want to do is tell her bitch ass she is right in your state of red. Instead, you offer her a question you know will sate her pride without feeding on your wounds.

A vengeful grin takes hold of you “Cute stranger checking me out, you mentioned?”

You have never seen her look so pleased with herself as she nods in the direction of a man at the end of the bar whose gaze you hold.

There is no way you are going to let this night go to waste. Not after Jake made such a desperate-looking fool out of you.

You decide if he is going to ignore you it's going to be his loss, not yours. You are not going to let him waste your time and you are definitely not going to let him take your fun.

You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.

He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.

He sets the three drinks down at your table pushing two glasses of what he claims to be screwdrivers towards Claire and yourself. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through an almost seemingly painful giant smile.

You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin Jake always wore, a sight you ache for.

You cordially engage in small talk with him, asking and answering the procedural “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, and “What do you like to do?”; fitting in the occasional desirous glances and seemingly innocent yet lingering touches when appropriate.

He is definitely funny, but not witty and satirical like Jake’s humor; undeniably intelligent, but not in the philosophical and existential sense like Jake.

You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.

He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”

Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response. This seems to oddly appease Hunter but you think nothing of it as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.

At first, the movements are modest, just an adventurous activity between acquaintances. But after a few songs, you feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any care if you tried.

You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?

As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.

Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.

You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.

A small part of you threatens to collapse under guilt as if you have been caught doing something wrong. But you find the majority of you seethes under a new tantalizing flame, devouring any clemency present.

Almost drunk off of this new power dynamic, finally, you have the upper hand and Jake is the one squirming. Of course, you want Jake over this clown any day of the week but he had made you wait almost all night, he can definitely handle a few more minutes.

You spin, now facing towards Jake’s beaming acrimony from the bar, allowing him a full access view to you commandeering one of Hunter's hands connected to the small of your back and slowly guiding him down to your ass, the other to your waist. You press your backside against his pelvis and his hips follow, grinding in the motions of your own.

You stretch upward as high behind you as you can, sinking your fingers into Hunter’s thick black curls. Just to sell it, you showmanly lean your head back against Hunter’s shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his ear when he leans down into you.

You glance up at your petulant victim to see Jake roll his eyes and throw his head back in a deriding chuckle before he slams down the rest of his pint. Jake is most certainly under your spell.

You tell yourself that each song with Hunter is the last dance until you’re unsure how many have passed. Any concept of time you own is completely suspended in the delicious way Jake looks when he is hungry to devour what he can’t have, and in this moment it happens to be you.

Abruptly, you feel yourself being swept towards the nearest wall and your face being tilted up towards Hunter’s as he cranes his mouth down to meet yours.

It is nice. Pleasurable for sure. He is definitely a good kisser, but again all you can bring yourself to think of is Jake’s perfectly pink pouty lips pressed against yours.

There is no point in tormenting Jake if you are just as miserable.

As you are about to break away from the stale kiss, Hunter’s weight that is pinning you up against the wall unexpectedly falters, sending you fumbling to the floor. You attempt to regain your balance but the room is slightly spinning, a likely side effect from the alcohol in your bloodstream. You might have questioned it having only had a drink or two if your focus wasn’t currently employed by figuring your way back to vertical.

A hand makes its way into your line of sight, offering to help you up. You swat away the aid, recognizing it as Jake’s. He huffs and shakes his head vexed. Jake brings himself closer to the whirling stack of bones that you are on the floor and tenaciously claps his rangy hands around your waist; making a show to assign his fingers in the exact arrangement where Hunter’s had just been. He devoutly springs you to your feet as if you'd rehearsed the move. As soon as you gain your footing you step back from Jake and dust yourself off, despite landing on a clean floor.

You inspect your crumbs of clues; the boys glaring at each other and at the brink of verbal warfare. You arrive at the conclusion that a fuming Jake had let all restraint dissipate as he shoved Hunter off of you in his impulsive fit.

“Why don’t you go find some other victim to slam into a wall,” Jake snarls, “she’s had enough for tonight.”

“She didn’t seem to have a problem when she was dancing all over me,” Hunter shoots back genuinely confused, “are you supposed to be her boyfriend or something?”

You race to interject, “He is not,” addressing Hunter but then throw your finger in Jake’s face, “and you have no right-”

Hunter takes one big territorial step to cleat himself between you and your oppressor. An exasperated Jake scowls at your fictitious defender and back to you, his features melting into a sickened sight as if to ask if you are really going to allow him to be vilified as the threat.

Of course protection from Jake is the last thing you will ever need. He could say whatever he’d like but Jake will never lay a harmful finger to you.

However, the hunt makes the game. You subtly shrug at Jake and let the mens’ egos carry out your dirty work.

Hunter sets his fist on Jake’s sternum in an attempt to get him to step back, “Mate, she doesn’t seem to be into it so why don’t you give us some space.”

This is the trigger that detonates the antagonized man just in front of your human shield.

“Oh trust me, mate,” he mimics Hunter in an explosion, the shrapnel riding your blood to your cheeks, “when I say I happen to know what the little slut is into and it is definitely not-” Jake is cut off by a panicky Josh now stepping in between the two before Jake can say anything he can’t take back.

Josh seems to instruct his detesting brother through glances. You always find it hard to properly digest a situation with the appropriate amount of severity when the twins begin conversing with mere facial expressions.

It only lasts for a second or two before Jake refixes his glare towards Hunter. Mirroring Jake, Josh returns to Hunter with an antsy smile and places a friendly hand on his barely-reachable shoulder, as if he is about to deliver bad news.

“Sorry about him,” he starts to mediate, motioning towards his fuming twin he shrugs and chuckles nervously, “tequila makes him aggressive.”

You almost giggle at Josh’s flamboyant rescue. He is a detail oriented man who is verbally quick on his feet. He usually paints pictures you can not poke holes in. So you know he must be distraught or drunk as you hadn't even seen Jake drink an ounce of liquor since he arrived.

However, Hunter doesn’t seem quite as amused as he slaps Josh's hand off and grunts, “Whatever, I don’t do crazy exes anyway.”

He insincerely waves you off and facetiously blows Jake a kiss in one last satirical jab before sauntering off, dematerializing amongst the crowd.

Jake now recoils from Josh’s touch and waits for him to vanish as well. However, Josh’s sight seeks you and bears a disapproving nod, warning you to behave in a glower. For a split second, you forget he is a twin as his protective demeanor is all that of a vigilant elder sibling.

Nevertheless, Josh makes his way back to where he had been so unnecessarily interrupted and dragged away from Claire.

Your attention gravitates to Jake in daggers. Before you can form any thoughts or strategy, venom goes flying past your lips, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

Jake swivels his head around, slightly panicking at all the partygoers that had stopped party going to sightsee this freak show. He never likes to be the center of attention unless he has six strings and a fretboard under his fingers.

Nimbly, he leads you by the arm into the nearby bathroom and slams the door shut.

You throw your arms out in confusion, “Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

He fires back, “No, just my patience with you!”

The room is small enough now that his scent circulates and the offensive smell of beer and bourbon attacks your senses; which explains his uncharacteristic boldness.

“Shit, Jake, you smell like a fucking brewery,” you spit out.

He seems to grasp how sloppy he let himself get. Your words siphon a hint of sobriety as he takes a deep breath and now speaks to you with a much more repealed approach.

You can tell he is still upset but is focusing on his convictions for the moment, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to fall like that.” He hesitates, “And I’m sorry- I have no idea why I called you slut- I didn’t mean-”

You are nearly swept away by the sweet breeze of your angelic Jake; the one that trips over his words when he gets excited and loves to take on whimsical personas of his own invention. Jake that is present and kind, even at the end of the night. But just like a fleeting breeze, you easily withstand his charms.

He may have found his composure but you certainly did not, not that you want to, “I’m fine, Jacob! Want to explain whatever the shit that was?!”

Any remorse present in his tone abandons him, “Oh please, you wanted that! I could see it all over your face while you were messing with that prick. I don’t even know why I'm surprised. You’re like a child who throws a fucking fit. The moment I don't do or tell you exactly what you want you go throw yourself into the arms of some random no-good fuck. I knew you were with him as soon as you went radio silent.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You’re almost suspicious of the blank canvas he’s left for you to fill in with logic; he’s usually ten points ahead when debating, never speaking a vulnerable statement for someone to collapse before him. You are almost hesitant to ask the question.

Your hand finds your hip as a means to reinforce your interrogation, “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t own me, Jake! So what if I was dancing with Hunter?”

He rolls his eyes and growls at the mention of his name. If Jake were an ounce more theatrical you swear he would have gagged too.

You cross your arms and lean into the balls of your feet as you sharpen your questions, knowing you have him trapped, “If you knew, why did you even show up then? Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything?”

He blurts out way too quickly to disguise any aloofness, “I don’t care!”

Jake immediately throws his head back in defeat and groans, crumbling under further rumination of your questions, as if they frustrate him as much as they do you, “I don’t know! You just- It kills me to see you- sometimes- you make me so-”

He is struggling to articulate his thoughts without making himself look like the blatant asshole, but you see right through it.

You, however, have no problem spitting the word out. In fact, it progresses the igneous tension between the two of you into a delicious sweltering burn.

You dangle the word right in front of him just to watch him squirm, “Jealous?”

The accusation furrows his brow and tightens his shoulders.

If you didn’t know any better, his sudden dark tone would have you red with shame for such an accusation, “You think I’m jealous? Trust me, kitten, you haven’t even seen jealousy. Go fuck that guy for all I care.”

You giggle and raise a slanderous eyebrow, soundlessly challenging his overtly bogus defense. Your defiance vacillates Jake back to his munition.

He charges towards you, his footsteps following the alignment of his pointer finger swinging in your direction, “What the fuck are you smiling at- You know what?! Fuck this and fuck you! You always do this. Always getting me into more trouble than I bargain for.”

Jake is growling in fragments now, growing taller with every step he takes drawing in towards you, surrendering to your gravity.

“This isn’t me! I’m not this person who gets jealous and fights with strangers at a party,” he gestures his clenched fists towards you, arms length away now, “And I don’t like being angry with you!”

Jake corners you between the wall and a stall, yet his rushing commute ceases to falter, “And what’s worse is I actually think you enjoy this! You must get off on this! I think you want to see me lose my mind!”

Jake is close enough that you are now confronted by the moles that cradle his right jaw, the charming silver starting to streak from his temples, the sculpt in the cartilage of his prominent nose, the slight uneven curl of his upper lip and the barely there freckles that line the ample lower. Details no camera could capture and no screaming fan could ever have knowledge of; intimate details one would ever amass without his admission.

If he moves any closer he would have to kiss you. He scolded you for getting worked up off his anger when he was doing the exact same thing. The worst part being you aren’t even sure if he has caught on to this rage-driven gravitation between the two of you. His face reads “Caution, stay away,” but his body is imploring you to take care of him. He is right where you want him, giving you all the power once again.

He resumes waving his finger at you and stiffly pokes your collarbone. He opens his mouth to make another point but his words never deliver themselves. You see his very thoughts dematerialize as he touches your buzzing skin.

He doesn’t even lift his finger from you, just lets it fall to the start of your breasts, making your chest heave. He subconsciously presses his body to yours; so close you catch his erratic breaths on your lips.

You hastily retort while he is distracted, “That’s pretty amusing considering you're the asshole that ruined my night, not the other way around, slut.”

He rakes the pad of his finger still connected to you, up your clavicle till it rests at the top of your outermost prominent neck muscle, delicately wrapping the rest of his digits around your throat once he runs out of room. He sinks further into your orbit so that he is now hovering just above your features.

“Look at you, just begging for someone to put you in your place,” he rasps out, ever so slightly applying a teasing pressure to reduce your air flow.

Collecting yourself enough to stream your words out in a lazy river, you dare taunt the feral man that holds your next breath between his fingers, “Look at you, Jacob, absolutely rabid with jealousy.”

“I’ve had it with your little attitude,” his hand delectably contorts further around your throat in a fit of conniption as he roars through clenched teeth, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fucking drag me here to make me jealous.”

“Bite me, Jake,” you roll your eyes at his arrogance.

You expect him to snap at you, to reprimand you for your insubordination. However, to your surprise he laps one long stripe from the corner of your pout to the start of your cheekbone. The action expels your nerves into shock; a shudder slithers its way up your spine.

Jake sighs against the shell of your ear, “Is that why you’re being such a little fucking brat? You just want me to bite you, sweetheart? Is that it?”

Your only response is a whimper as a crackling heat awakes between your thighs and your hips grind into Jake on their own accord; giving him the only answer he needs.

Satiated by your feedback, Jake nearly moans at regaining the upper hand, “I swear- and why should I even care, kitten?”

You urgently squeal, struggling against your constricting airway, “Because it’s your fault! I’ve never craved attention until you did this to me!”

Cocking his head to the side to purport the appearance of a disapproving analysis, he mocks your need, “How did we end up like this, beautiful? We are absolutely no good for each other.”

You don’t bother devising a clever response, knowing he’s already decided to give you what you want.

He clenches his jaw and runs his tongue along the ridges of his teeth, twisting the pink muscle into the crevices of his molars, “It’s rude to stare, kitten. Do I need to teach you how to use that pretty smart mouth of yours?”

You only bat your eyes at him, your expressionless face waiting for what you know comes next.

He raises an eyebrow at you, impatient for some response and mutters, “Say something.”

A shit-eating grin sneaks its way onto your face, “Don’t forget to lock the door, babyboy.”

Jake’s once kind eyes grow dark to an absolutely immoral shade of lust. Heedlessly, his lips crash against yours, the sensation you’ve fantasized about since the last time his mouth deserted yours. He tastes of bourbon and peaches.

He slips his hands around your ass and hauls you up to straddle his waist. You wrap your legs around him as he staggers towards the door lock as you instructed, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you long enough to complete the task first.

Jake places you on the sink and protestingly pries himself back from you, as if starving for more but looking at you was a vital duty he must perform.

His eyes plot you up and down, infatuated with this strand of you, reserved only for him. You don’t have to say a word for Jake to know what happens when he’s away; the way you move for him confesses everything he is already aware of. He is the only one capable of having you completely and utterly vulnerable and unguarded and unadulterated; animalistically yourself.

For the first time tonight, Jake’s pretty pout draws back in a genuine smile for you; a giddy fool and his favorite fix.

He gracefully reaches to untie your wrap blouse and it falls to your sides, uncurtaining your heaving breasts. He hums in satisfaction of your physique.

Jake lightly places his hands on your knees and observes as his fingers featherly dance upon your thighs, only to stop and squeeze into the thick of them until he leaves white imprints. He curls into you, Jake’s perpetually exposed chest rubbing against your newly bare nipples, extracting a hiss from you.

Your core already weeps with need.

The hungry man burrows his face into your neck but stops right before his lips meet your skin, knowing you desperately need his mouth.

He teases you with a tickling whisper, “Fuck- I missed you. They don’t make girls like you in Nashville.”

The ribbing huff of his breath makes you shudder.

You press your hand against his hip, slide it down the curve of his thigh and inward till you map out his hard length through his pants, “I can see, you poor thing.”

Your movement draws a low growl from him in your ear, “Fuck- You see what you do to me, kitten? You see all the problems you cause me?”

You begin to palm him through his clothes and feign out a bratty whine, “Yes, but we always have such a good time, don’t we Jakey?”

Jake begins to eat at your neck while you continue to caress him until he moves down and out of your reach.

He plots out your clavicle, licking down your sternum through the valley of your peaking breasts; delaying his journey to lap one of your nipples into his warm salacious mouth as he gropes the other in his lanky hand. A few mumbled swears fall from you as Jake begins to venture in biting and sucking marks into the supple flesh of your breasts, soothing each spot with candied kisses afterwards.

“Shit- just when I thought these perfect tits couldn’t get any prettier. An absolutely breathtaking sight with my bitemarks,” he pants.

Jake’s mouth resumes its migration south to your goosebump ridden thighs. He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass, resting his elbows against the corners of the sink for balance as he lowers the rest of his body to accommodate the angle of your glistening center.

His mouth now takes purchase of where his fingertips had just deserted your thighs, kissing away the residual sting; closer and closer to your entrance till his head vanishes, canopied in between your skirt and legs. You feel the heat of his huffing through the lace of your panties. The sensation alone is enough to make you whine with need. Jake then bites into the material of your damp thong, sampling your arousal as he tugs your underwear to the side using his teeth. Jake plants his lips to yours in a row of delicate kisses, making you quiver with anticipation.

“Wider,” he growls out the demand.

You lean back to let your bare shoulder blades rest against the ice cold mirror behind you in order to grant him better access to your wetness. Jake is entranced as he gapes at how the chill glass spells you to hiss and clench around nothing.

He takes a deep inhale of you and slots the tip of his nose against your entrance. In one agonizingly slow movement he reclines his head so that his nose flits over your aching clit as he sticks out the flat of his tongue to follow the lewd trail.

You open your mouth to sing his praises but all that comes out is his name in a hiccuping squeak.

He then wraps his ample lips around your throbbing clit and nimbly sucks it into the warm plush of his mouth, swirling his velvety tongue around your bud.

The deed elicits a piteous wail to escape you and the confiscation of any remaining control over your restless limbs. Your hips involuntarily swing forward, seeking more of his mouth.

He rewards you with a swift smack against your thigh, “Easy,” he begins to plant light kisses on your entrance, “needy little thing today, aren’t you?”

Having not fully removed his mouth from you, the vibrations of his teasing words sends unexpected ripples of titillation humming through you, instigating your reeling squirms further, “Relax, kitten. I know how to take care of you. I know what you need.”

He finally unlatches his other hand from your ass. You hadn’t even registered the delicious sting of his fingers over the imperious pleasure of his mouth; a pain promising to blossom into pretty hues of purples, blues, and greens.

He delineates the curve of your thigh with his fingertips, finally fluttering over your entrance. Impatiently, he hikes your skirt up to bunch at your waist. He savagely yanks your lace underwear down and over your ankles, not even bothering to wait for you to adjust to help slip the material off. He looks to you with a seemingly innocent goofy grin as he pockets his newly pillaged treasure.

You roll your eyes and press your lips together to stifle your obvious giggle. In a feigned offense, Jake snatches your ankles in his grasp to reestablish his authority and your attention. Slowly, he lifts your legs to settle your thighs around his shoulders, careful not to throw off your balance on the porcelain counter.

You lock your ankles around him as his hands pet up your legs and wrap around your thighs to bore into your flesh. Jake reintroduces his mouth to your soaking entrance, sloppily devouring your nectar.

Though pleasing, you know he is holding out on you. Jake loves to hear you beg; for you to pray for what you know he can’t help but give you.

“Jake, more,” you demand despite knowing it will land void.

He immediately ceases his feed and arrogantly reminds you of your place, “Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders now, are you kitten?”

Mourning the loss of his mouth, you choke on a sob, “No, Jake!”

He tenderly begins to brush his digits along your skin, “That’s right, but I happen to know that pretty mouth sings a lot lovelier than she barks.”

He moves one of his thumbs to circle over your swollen clit as incentive, making his compulsion undeniable.

You desperately pant out your pleas, “Please- Shit- Please, Jake. I need- Jake- Fuck- fingers?”

“Sorry, baby, you’re not making any sense,” he terrorizes you now, stretching a free digit from your bud to tease your entrance.

You manage to piece together your needs enough to satisfy him, “Jake- please, I need your fingers- need them inside me- I need to soak them- please, baby?”

Your scandalous words draw a sweet moan from him. The vivacious grant of your request tells you he can’t stand to make you wait any longer.

He begins pumping his middle and ring finger inside you, making you mewl his name.

He once again envelopes your clit in his lips and begins to suck and lap you towards ecstasy. You feel the euphoric tension strain your abdomen as Jake curls his fingers around the spot he always seems to effortlessly discover.

“Fuck- Jake don’t stop- please- please don’t stop,” your voice reaches the high pitch only he brings it to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, you sound too pretty with my fingers inside you to deny,” he coos against your sensitive clit.

Jake’s lustful praises send you into an orgasmic haze as your walls squeeze around his fingers and back arches away from the mirror.

As he feels you getting close, Jake begins to coach you, “Relax for me, beautiful. Can you relax that pretty pussy for me?”

You inventory only enough coherency to wantonly moan, indicating your process of his demand.

“Good girl, that's it. Just breathe and take it,” his praises coerce you into obedience.

Even though every endorphin in your body is imploring you to writhe at Jake’s touch, you do your best to relax and breathe as he ordered. You relent to Jake’s fingers, allowing him to caress into a new spot, a fresh wave of sensitivity finding you.

He knows he’s found the place as soon as you squeal his name in response. He begins to violently fuck deep into you with his hand, pumping in and out of you, his fingertips catching his new target every time, catapulting you into your orgasm. You're consumed by white heat as you soar through your ecstasy.

You’ve cleared through your orgasm yet oddly the tension in your abdomen is not alleviated but is now twice as constricting.

Jake never ceases to send his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace and the pressure that builds is of a different class, requiring your whole body to participate in your release. Where he was once babying his mark, he is now assaulting it; his digits curling into you with every pump. The sloppy sounds of Jake finger fucking you grows louder with every stroke.

His lips swallow your clit, slurping you into his mouth for safekeeping, sending you into overdrive as you approach this new release. Your pussy begins to convulse and contract around Jake but he drives into you faster still.

“That’s it, babygirl, cum for me. I’ve missed having you on my tongue,” his words barely make their way into your consciousness.

Your vision begins to black out as your eyes roll back and your slick sprays his face and coats his hands.

Yet, Jake refuses to cease his assault. Your climax builds within you so tight, it rips its way out of you. Your cunt expels a deluge of liquids and continues to pour into Jake’s hand with every dizzying clench of your cunt. Again. Again. And again. Until you are downpour, trickling past his wrist and onto the tile floor.

“Fucking shit- Jacob- don’t stop- I can’t- I’m still cumming- Ja- Baby- Jacob,” your voice melodically crashes and breaks against waves of rasping screams and swearing whimpers louder still, floating off somewhere in oblivion.

Jake thinks it's the most beautiful you’ve ever sounded. Your body finally gives, and you collapse back against the mirror behind the sink. After a few seconds you peek your eyes open to see the mess you made.

He pulls away from you to stand once again and observes his glistening hand in a gaping awe, unphased by your cum dripping down his chin.

“I love when you do that,” he mutters more to himself than you as he slurps your elixir from his own limb.

He isn’t even touching you but the pornagraphic sight reels a moan from you.

“Does my beautiful girl want a taste of her own orgasm?”

He places his fingers along your lips, waiting for your consent. You stick your tongue out and he slides his digits up along the textured muscle until you stifle a slight gag; the veins that decorate his knuckles pressing into your top lip.

He pulls your mouth closer to his with his fingers, slipping them out just before he slides his tongue between your lips; you further taste your glaze as he licks into your mouth.

He impatiently pulls away from you with a hungry groan and scatters to undo his belt. His pants fall to his ankles, his normally hidden curves now visible; a delectable sight you will never grow tired of. His physique is appetizingly curvier than most men and the very view made your dripping pussy flutter without remedy.

Jake catches your ravenous stare and arrogantly quips, “See something you like, kitten?”

Rather than respond, you greedily grab at him and slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You tug him closer along with the material and shimmy it down to liberate his hard painfully pink penis.

“I missed you too,” you run a finger over his leaking tip, causing his head to roll back in a hiss, “and this pretty cock.”

In one swift movement, you quickly gather your remaining arousal on his face in your free hand and reach down to slather his throbbing dick. You lay messy open mouth kisses along his jaw and neck as you now lightly pump him in your hand.

“Fuck- you’re so hot,” Jake rasps out at the loss of composure; his mouth slacks agape as you continue to jerk him off.

You move your hand to flick at his head and his features further melt in bliss.

“Slow down,” he whimpers, ”I want to be dripping down your thighs, not your hand,” his statement demands your submission.

You can tell Jake is unraveling fast as he starts twitching in your fingers. He is close until he obstinately pulls you away from him by the wrist.

You pout out an apology and he relocates your hands around his shoulders, and grabs your waist as he paints your cheek with open mouth kisses. His tongue works a long stripe behind your ear and sucks your lobe into his mouth.

He speaks through teeth clenched around your cartilage, “You always misbehave like such a brat, but underneath it all my girl is just a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

His intimate words alone render you to a din of pitiful mutters and swears.

You feel him begin to press his hard cock into the thick of your thigh, involuntarily pursuing relief, “You just need someone who knows what you are, hmm? Knows what you need?”

You praise and beg as your center is reintroduced to that familiar ache, “Jake, please. You know what I need.”

The sensation of Jake grinding himself against your leg dissolves all restraint. You try to buck your hips towards him in search of what you want most, but he doesn’t let you succeed. Jake arrests your waist to push you further back onto the sink.

He snickers at your cupidity, “What a greedy little slut. Just came a fucking mess and you already want more.”

You stroke his ego with hopes flattery will seduce him, “Yes- I’m a glutton for you, please, Jake?”

You scoot back up to the edge of the sink and grab at him; mad for his touch. Instead, your ambition is requited with a stinging smack to your cunt as he bellows the command, “Sit still! I’m not going to tell you again.”

You can’t help the fearless groan that echoes throughout the small room.

He bitterly miffs, “Yea? Should have thought about that before you were fucking around with that shit for brains?”

“Jake, I’m sorry,” you gravel, growing more impatient by the second that you can’t feel him.

Your insincere words purchase you no spoils as he taunts you further, “Good- You have no idea. I wanted to break his fucking nose wide open! What was his name again, sweet thing?”

Before you can fashion any remark, he yanks you to teeter on the end of the countertop once again. Jake, shaft in hand, drives his throbbing tip just past your lips, and flicks himself against your sensitive clit.

Your knuckles grip white against the corners of the porcelain struggling to remain in place as you whimper gibberish, “Fuck- Jake- I- MMM- fuck-”

“Look at my good sweet girl, so cock drunk she can’t even remember the pawn she was using to make me jealous a few minutes ago,” he smugly croons.

He featherly runs his fingers through the tresses of your hair. As he smooths down your mane you cave into his touch.

“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” his words drip with scorn, “It killed me. You deserve better because you’re my good girl.”

Lining himself up to press into your labia, he docks his forehead against your clavicle to look down at his toying with you. Slightly arching forward, his pink head only just glides past your entrance.

You are teetering over the line of ditzy, Jake’s tantalizing quips being the only tether before you are too far gone, “What a filthy slut? Playing dirty to get Daddy’s attention?”

Any remaining composure flees from you as the name is growled against your skin and you immediately call it back to him, “Shit- I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, fuck me?!”

One hand still residing in your hair, he tugs by the root to guide your ear to his open mouth, “Well you’ve got my attention now, my sweet little fucked out thing.”

Without warning, Jake mercilessly thrusts himself inside you to the hilt. You slap your hand over your mouth to silence the obscene wails tearing through you.

Jake promptly rips your hand away, “Don’t you fucking dare. I want everyone to hear my little cock drunk slut sing.”

Without granting you an opportunity to adjust to his girth, he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to plunge himself all the way back in, driving into that magical spot.

Just as that illustrious need grows in your stomach, Jake pulls out completely. You don’t have the opportunity to protest before he gathers you from off the countertop and twists you around towards your reflection. He gingerly presses his touch into the protruding shape of your shoulder blade, lightly ushering you to lean over the slab of the counter. You surrender to Jake’s decree, not willing to risk your orgasm.

Jake finds your fucked out gaze through the mirror and faintly adjures, “I want you to watch as I fuck you.”

You know better than to mistake his lowly tone for submission. You lean your weight on your elbows as you settle against the sink and raise your head to take in every detail as Jake begins fuck into you from behind.

His pace starts off moderate, but every stroke pierces deep. Your eyes are spellbound by the vision of his pelvic bone slamming into your ass with every harsh swing of his hips.

You do your best to keep your eyes visible as his rhythm picks up, but inevitably your head hangs limp, dizzy from your approaching high. You resign from your efforts once he begins to rock into you faster, burying himself further in your cunt.

You are compensated by a half-lidded Jake forcing your head back up by your chin, “Nah-uh. Look at me, baby.”

You manage to anchor your head where Jake repositioned it, but you are helpless to the way your eyes roll back as he swivels his hips rutting into that sweet spot. Jake grants you exoneration as your walls tighten around his twitching cock, indicating you are close.

Your every muscle trembles as you are abraded by your final orgasm. You're too far gone in your trance. You babble a gibbered language of swears and crying moans as you give into the chemical release.

“Just one more for me, babygirl, you can take it,” he hushes you.

You are strung back from your trip by the stutter of Jake’s hips and hiccuping moans. He is close. You see him tire as he curls around you, his panting grunts tickling your skin.

“Come on, baby,” you root for him despite your own overstimulation, “fuck me full. Want it so bad.”

You are captivated by the reflection of his features contorting under bliss as he fights to keep his hips in motion. You roll your hips to follow Jake’s strokes as his high suspends his stamina.

His eyes roll back as he begins to convulse, his dick jerking inside you. He releases, his lewd moan of absolute venery graces your ears as he empties himself inside you, coating your pulsing walls.

Jake goes limp, briefly taking refuge against your backside as he catches his breath and you come down from your highs together. He lazily litters your skin with kisses wherever his lips can reach.

He sighs against your spine, “Fuck- you’re magnificent. Absolutely electric.”

He wills himself to stand vertical, tugging his pants back in place over his hips before he eases you upright. Assisting you with his steady grip on your pelvis, the steamy skin of his lithe chest sticks to your backside. He wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady as your knees buckle upon landing, pulling you into him once more. He bows his head to warrant his lips to lathe your neck, savoring the salt of your skin.

Far too consumed to break away from his sloppy kisses, he tilts his head as his eyes hunt for the reflection of yours, “But I meant what I said earlier, we’re no good for each other.”

He nibbles his way up and sucks at the muscle of your jaw, ��I like you way more than I planned to but there’s no way we can continue like this, babygirl.”

You go numb; the only sensation present being pins and needles pricking your chest. His words spell you dumb, abolishing any sense to speak or move.

He delicately spins you to face him once again and tenderly kisses the tip of your nose.

Jakes slightly pulls back to skillfully tie your blouse back up for you, “Whatever this is, it's got to settle here.”

“Jake- you-,” you breathlessly chase for the tail of your thought that doesn’t seem to exist.

He squeezes your hands in his, “I mean it, kitten, don’t call me anymore. I won’t pick up for you.”

The tender manner in which his lips love on you does not mesh with his condemning words.

He draws back to see tears you aren’t aware are now rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He lets go of one of your hands to cup your jaw and kisses the salty sadness from your features, “Don’t cry, baby, you’re perfect.”

He envelopes your lips between his one last time before he brings your hand still in his grasp to place his pucker against your knuckles and whisper, “Please take care of yourself for me, babygirl.”

You are prisoner to paralyzation as those enticing amber eyes abandon you; rendering you to nothing but shattered forsaken ruins strewn across an empty bathroom, grasping and grappling to purchase any sort of rationale beyond the carnage.

You’re forced to silently choke on consternation at the sight of his chestnut waves bouncing against his shoulders as Jake weightlessly vanishes through the swinging door.

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