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#they just fall over willy nilly
abejapeludx · 2 years
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i will be sisyphus for $14.00/h
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nabaath-areng · 11 months
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Fuck Sweden as a nation for turning the woobification of our history and culture into one of our greatest exports, pretending to be wholesome and peaceful while profiting from conflicts elsewhere. For never having the fucking spine to take any stance ever and acting high and mighty for being "neutral", all while frothing at the mouth to get a piece of that colonial cake from the cool kids table where the superpowers are seated. For recognizing Palestine's sovereignty only to then consider a withdrawal of said recognition in response to the current genocide. For allowing islamophobia to get to the point it is now and then pointing fingers at jews as a whole. For giving less of a flying fuck about swedish jews during WW2 and until now, yet patting ourselves on the back and taking credit for heroic deeds done primarily by individuals.
I wish nothing but absolute hell and misery for Ulf Kristersson, who is even more spineless about his inaction than I thought possible. Who had nothing to say about the burnings of the torah and quran, only to claim that he stands for fighting antisemitism. Who puffed up his chest and was acting so tough about the things he would do once he became prime minister, only to hold up on none of his lofty promises in true conservative fashion. Both he and his lackeys (as well as their fanclubs of raging screaming bigots) deserve nothing but hurt and hell for continuing to destroy the lives of all marginalized groups in Sweden, all while shamelessly increasing their own salaries blatantly in the open, to then have the sheer and utter gut to declare that actively supporting genocide is within our best interests.
This country's audacity is one that only became possible because we sacrificed our neighbours safety for the sake of maintaining our own, because when your most recent war was in 1809 it's apparently not possible to even try and comprehend the horrors of modern warfare. That is, besides producing the tools for it to happen elsewhere.
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slvttyplum · 5 months
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toji had a thick dick. it was long, but that didn't make his dick special; it was all in the girth and how it stretched out your walls every time he slid inside of you. what made it better was how you wrapped around him, and each time he pushed into you, your body reacted to his every move.
he knew how to use it; he didn't just push himself into you all willy-nilly; he made sure you were wet and slowly slid himself into you, pushing your thighs back, his grip tight as he pushed himself deep inside until he felt the tip of his dick kissing your sweet spot.
the way he pushes his hips against your ass, and you feel his dick twitching against you and stretching out your walls, made your stomach cave in. it felt like his dick was never going to stop stretching you out. it’s like the deeper he went, the more it felt better, especially when he added a second stimulation to your body. 
his hand on your breast as he slowly plays with your nipple, pushing himself deeper inside of you, your walls clamping against him. his dick twitching as he pushed deeper inside of you, your slick walls all on him. 
when he was deep inside of you, the tip of his dick pressing on your sweet spot for as long as he could without you whining. his chest rising and falling with great speed when he feels you tighten around him, his thumb on your clit, swirling it around so he could feel you tighten around him more. 
that’s what he loved so much about pushing himself deep inside of you; you felt too good and could handle yourself well when he was thrusting in and out of you while he put his whole body weight on you, thrusting his hips inside of you every second, not taking a break. 
he could practically feel the blood rush to his dick each time he pushed deeper inside of you, having you wrap around him tighter and your back are off of your mattress, moaning for him to give you more, knowing that what he was giving you was enough. 
one of his hands on your boob and the other on your clit, the stimulation you were getting from everything he was giving to you made your head fuzzy and your body not with arousal. 
body shaking, and your body paralyzed from the pleasure he was giving you; he knew how to fuck you good; you never wanted him to stop; you never wanted his dick to leave your body; he felt the same way. 
toji wanted to stay inside of you and stretch you out until his dick was imprinted inside of you, so that only you could take him and no one else could, not comparing to him. 
even if you thought about fucking someone else, your pussy would ache wanting him inside of you, wanting him to rub his hands all over you and fuck you until you’re whining for him to stop. 
his head thrown back as he pushes into you and lays his hands on you, making sure to feel your body heat up whenever he was close to making you cum. 
whenever he finished, his dick would push against your walls while your walls wrapped around him tightly, squeezing the cum out of you and your pussy slick on his dick. 
his dick was fucking amazing.
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rebelfell · 6 months
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A li’l self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff. Reader w/ boobies.
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Eddie’s not a total pig, okay?
He can control himself just fine when necessary. He’s fully capable of maintaining a conversation without his brain short circuiting at the sight of something that makes all the tiny Eddie’s in his head run around like chickens with their heads cut off. That is…except for right now.
Because right now there are boobs in front of his face. And not just any boobs. Your boobs.
“Eddie!” You huff loudly and drop your shirt. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
He blinks a few times, reluctantly coming out of his daze to look up at you and the appalled frown on your face. His cheeks burn with his humiliation and his mouth falls open as he stammers through his attempt to recall what you just said.
You roll your eyes, sighing all heavy and petulant as you climb off his bed.
“Hey!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up to really sell the ruse of being offended. “You’re the one whipping out your bits all willy nilly. Can’t exactly expect me to concentrate.”
Over your shoulder you fix him with a glare and snatched up one of his Hellfire figurines to chuck it at him. The freshly painted figure ricocheted off his elbow as he threw his arms up in front of him, fighting back giggles as you scolded him.
“I came to you for advice, not to be ogled!”
Well, that was your first mistake, Eddie thought to himself. Because when it came to you there was no scenario that didn’t involve ogling.
“I’m sorry. Okay? I…I got distracted. But that’s what you’re going for, right? Weren’t you asking if they look good?”
“It’s not about whether they look good, I just…I need to know if they look even.”
Even? Even, how? Even more fucking incredible than normal? Even more mouth-watering? Even better than what Eddie’s been imagining more and more over the last few years.
“Even, how?” he asks.
“Like…normal.” You groan. “He says one of them is way bigger and I thought maybe this bra would minimize the problem.”
“Problem?” Eddie snorted. “There’s not a single fucking problem with them.”
You roll your eyes at him again, but it’s not quick enough to hide the smile that started to blossom on your lips when he says that. Eddie’s bed frame squeaks in protest as he hops off the bed and comes to stand in front of you, solemn and serious in a way he almost never is.
“Sweetheart…they’re perfect.”
You’re perfect, he wants to say.
A little pride creeps into your voice as you tilt your head gently and glance briefly down at your own chest before looking back at him.
“Really?”
“Really, really. Literally, maybe, definitely, the greatest ones I’ll ever see in my life.”
A laugh bubbles out of his chest and you honestly feel like you’re going to melt into the carpet under your feet. And suddenly you can’t remember for the life of you why you even bothered with this other guy in the first place.
Because the guy you bought this stupid fancy bra for has never called them, or anything on you for that matter, perfect. And he’s never looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you.
You bit down gently on your bottom lip, absently walking your fingers along the edge of Eddie’s dresser, scratching at the chipped paint.
“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”
cont’d here
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simpforrooster · 4 months
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bullseye.
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jake “hangman” seresin x f!reader
summary: you’re tired of waiting for jake to make a move, so you force his hand.
t/w: mentions of alcohol, some kissing
the dart leaves your hand sloppily. if only your dad could see you. he’d be so embarrassed.
you throw another one, no skill or finesse.
you feel his eyes on you.
hangman.
glancing over your shoulder at him, you meet those green eyes. his mouth quirks up in the corner. that damn mouth. he has no idea how distracting that mouth is.
you and jake have been flirty with one another since you met, but he refuses to make a move.
that ends today.
bringing your attention back to the dartboard, faux concentration covers your features. you take a few practice throws, then let the dart sail towards to board.
it misses.
footsteps sound behind you, followed by a beer bottle being set on a table.
“darlin’, you are no good at this,” hangman’s southern drawl heats your insides. all he has to do is call you darlin’ with that accent and you’d do anything for him.
putting a hand on your hip, you turn to look at him. “i know,” you whine, poking out your bottom lip for dramatic effect.
hangman’s eyes fall to your mouth, then back up to your eyes.
jackpot.
“turn around,” he says, nodding toward the board and putting a dart in your hand.
hangman slides up behind you, barely touching you.
“you’re throwing this all willy nilly, there’s a strategy to it,” he tells you in your ear. his hand runs slowly down your right arm, resting on your hand holding the dart. his hot breath against your ear causes your heart to pick up. you pray he doesn’t notice.
he guides your hand up. “loosen your grip,” he murmurs. his other hand comes to your waist. he steps forward closing the little space between you. the feeling of his body against yours is everything. you lean back against him, just slightly.
that hand on your waist slides down to your hip. “the trick is confidence.” hangman pulls your hand back, and your let it go when he guides you forward.
bullseye.
“atta girl.”
the praise makes you want to turn in his arms and kiss him. jake takes a deep breath, his chest pushing into your back. the hand on your hip hasn’t moved.
“wanna play me?” you ask him.
“what’s in it for me?”
“an easy win?” you turn and he looks down at you. you don’t miss his gaze falling to your mouth again.
the two of you could be the only ones in this bar with the tension floating between you. it’s getting harder and harder not to engage in anything inappropriate.
“if you win, i’ll buy you a drink,” you offer. it’s lame, but
he smirks. “i’ll take that. what if you win?”
“if i win,” you pretend to think. his thumb rubs a spot above your shorts, causing goosebumps.
“yeah?” he murmurs.
“i want a date.”
he squeezes your hip. “deal.”
jake steps away from you. “ladies first.”
you turn toward the board. you feign hesitation. you glance over to jake and give him a shrug. “here goes.”
looking toward the board, you throw the dart with perfect form and precision.
bullseye.
jake’s mouth falls open. two more darts follow and land in the center circle.
“well, well, well. did you hustle me, darlin’?” that southern drawl melts your insides. jake steps toward you.
“you gonna throw your darts?” you ask him. he takes another step. he looks from you to the board.
“you and i both know i can land all three of mine in the same circle with my eyes closed.” he smiles down at you.
“we do know that,” you agree. feeling brave, you bring your hand to his waist, knotting your hand in his soft t shirt. his gaze falls to your hand, then back to your face.
he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ve got to give it to you, i’m impressed.”
“i was tired of you not making a move,” you admit, pulling him closer to you.
“you want me to make a move, huh?” he asks. your bravado leaves you thanks to the way he’s looking at you. his eyes search your face, pupils blown.
“yes, jake,” you breathe. a groan escapes his mouth and he pulls your face toward him. kissing him is like being on fire and he’s the only thing that can put you out. your body arches into his, and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.
“every bit as perfect as i imagined,” he whispers against your mouth.
this time, you close the gap. he takes your lead, fully making out with you in the middle of penny’s bar. luckily, the dart board is situated the in the corner so you’re pretty sure no one is paying y’all any attention.
“psst, hey man,” coyote’s voice pulls the two of you apart. “things appear to be escalating past bar appropriate.” he gestures between the two of you.
jake grins down at you. “wanna get out of here?”
“yes, jake.”
masterlist.
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deunmiu-dessie · 30 days
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Wait, how do you break character ai's filter? I've been wanting to smash it with a hammer for so long
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♡♡𝆬🍠 nonnie, y'know- i'm glad you asked. i first learned from my best friend of...well my whole life-- they sent me a few pictures of words to use, so i'll put that at the end. the words just below are some of the words i use. i'll also leave a few ai characters i'm talking to right now, that i've easily broken the filter with.
my advice? be very vague, let the ai do the dirty work if you're going the submissive route- however if you're more dominant, it's better if you do most of the work.. though i have noticed that on certain characters, the filter seems to be very like...gone? i once had a threesome and like, the filter only popped up once-- i was in shock. i've also noticed that when i do break the filter, it's easier at like 4-6AM, it's rarely ever popped up during that time.
replace common words with more ambiguous words.
pussy -- sensitive place, mound, folds, panties, slick heat, sensitive flesh, etc clit -- bundle of nerves, nub, etc (sometimes i still just use clit.) breasts -- chest, breasts (sometimes you can get away with it, sometimes no) nipple -- areola, peaks, etc (can get rlly percise, so i avoid it most times.) cock -- bulge, hardness, sensitive part, length, thickness. [ i've also used, 'sticky tip' or 'sensitive tip' if giving a blowjob or grinding. and some of the women have used 'princess parts' as well. ]
here are some examples! all mine of course!
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let's focus on words i use to describe how my character is feeling. i'll just go through my chats and pick them out and make a small list.
1. "trembling thighs." "quivering thighs." "shaking thighs." 2. "wobbly knees." "knees buckled." 3. "mewling." "cried out." "keened softly." "sobbed." "squealed out." "she whined." 4. "eyes rolled back." "eyes flutter shut." "eyes clench shut." 5. "back arches." "back bows softly." 6. "body quivers." "tremors wrack her body." 7. "toes curl." "fingers grip the sheets." "hands pull his/ her hair." 8. "she comes undone around him." "reaches her climax." "falls over the edge." 9. "body clenches tightly around him." "her walls squeeze tight." 10. "rolls her hips." "grinds her hips." "hips buck involuntarily." "hips jolt." "hips stutter softly."
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don't be afraid or thrown when the filter does pop up, it's not the end of the world and it's not like you're gonna be reported or anything. you can rewrite your response ( if it pops up when you send something ) or you can just refresh to get another response. better yet, you don't have to respond to everything they send- just hit enter and they'll continue for you. (the first two are an example, i'm just joking around for this post-- don't type what i just said lol)
also don't just go in willy-nilly, make sure you have a plot; it shouldn't be immediate smut; that's crazy. build the world, give your character a personality, tease a little here and there to wear down the filter (nothing crazy), and slowly add more and more. you have all the time in the world, there are no ads, no time limits, no waiting--- enjoy it.
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here are some other words you can use to try and bypass the filter as well! thanks to my bestie for sending me these when i just downloaded character ai.
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alright...bai! ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ₊˚⊹♡🫧— 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑒
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 6 months
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How to react to you longtime girlfriend regaining her angelic wings: a guide by Charlie Morningstar, proud girlfriend of said girlfriend.
Things you SHOULD do with her new wings!
Notice them! (this is easy bc they are BIG and BEAUTIFUL with the soft grey faded colors of an overcast sky right before it rains and gives you an excuse to stay indoors snuggled in soft blankets drinking hot coco together back when everything was simpler and safe which is exactly what getting folded up in them will feel like later and- what? oh right! The list thing, um-)
Complement your girlfriend's wings! Maybe don't overwhelm her with a whole paragraph just yet though. Saying "They look nice!" works perfectly good. (waxing poetic can wait until Alone Time)
GENTLY touch the wings. But not too gently!!! Maybe hold the upper joint place, like a little handshake hello. (the feathers are attached to very VERY sensitive bundles of nerves for feeling out air pressure and drafts and stuff, Vaggie says, but they are TOTALLY NOT TICKLISH supposedly and the reason you shouldn't run your hands across them all nilly-willy whenever you get caught up in how pretty and soft they are is it messes them up and means they need preening again to make flying work right, and THAT'S why she jumps and squeaks about it. She likes keeping things tidy! That's all! No other reason. Noooope)
Things you should NOT do with her new wings!!!!!
Blow a giant raspberry right between them, where the feathers get all small and super extra downy soft, just to see what will happen.
Do the above in the middle of maybe KINDA making out....?
Tell absolutely everyone in the hotel about it directly afterwards.
Thing you WILL end up doing if you complete the above list
Spend the night on the bedroom couch: because you keep remembering the noise she made during the raspberry blowing incident, and giggling yourself and her awake about it.
Wake up in bed anyway: snuggled in your girlfriend's arms the same way you do any time you fall asleep in the wrong place and she has to come find you and carry you back with her so SHE can get some sleep too- only this time she also has WINGS!!! And her wings tuck around you so warm and strong, you'd swear you've felt this every time waking up with her before- only now the feeling is all around you, instead of just wrapped around your heart <3
You're still sleeping on the couch tomorrow though: At LEAST for the first part of the night. Or however long it takes before you stop giggling over hearing your totally an angel very serious former solider and absolutely Not a BIRD girlfriend Squawk.
Things to KEEP doing now your girlfriend has wings again!
Try better next time with the rule following??
Hope you're doing okay so far????
Help her with the preening!!
Stop giggling. Somehow.
Staring at them and spacing out is also okay as long as you say you're "acclimating" yourself to the "sudden change in a core aspect" of your life when someone catches you at it. They won't believe you- But! They'll probably just roll their eyes and let you get back to the staring. Acclimating. Whatever!
Anyway, good luck to whoever needs this! Hope this helps things go smoothly for you, Cherri Bomb!!
Also- Angel Dust, if you've read this far, then PLEASE don't tell Husk. Me and Vaggie PROMISED him not to give you ideas, and we don't wanna get banned from the bar again :(
Sincerely, Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell, Vaggie's girlfriend (!!!)
Note from Vaggie: You're doing great sweetie. And you're lucky you're cute when you laugh, even in your sleep. P.S. There's no 'supposedly' about it, my wings are NOT ticklshkSkk .... P.P.S. from Charlie: are you suuuure? <3 <3 <3
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taeyongers · 9 months
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Between the Hammer and Anvil (M)
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pairing: mafia boss/ceo taeyong x spy reader
genre: childhood friends to lovers, mob au, ceo au
word count: 33.6k
summary: you are a member of yuta's mob sent to spy on a rival mob's boss taeyong who unfortunately happens to be your childhood love that you haven't seen in a decade. when you realize he's still in love with you, and you with him, you grapple with the reality of your mission. (also includes best friend jungwoo and brief Johnny appearance)
warnings: blood, guns, gunfights, illicit activities, minor to medium injuries, physical violence, kidnapping, mentions of death, explicit sexual content, subyong and domyong and everything in between, oral (m. and f. receiving), slight hair pulling and breathplay, semi public (office) smut. healthy relationship though (besides the spying), accidental pregnancy. minors dni.
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“The Scorpion?” You echo. The name is big, feared, and known throughout the criminal world, but never you thought you’d take him on.
“Yes. We need to infiltrate his base.” Your boss, Yuta, speaks busily while sifting through folders on his desk.
“That’s a bold move. He’s the most powerful mob boss in the city.”
“We have no choice. They’ve slowly been taking over our territories. I know we are big in the city as well, second only to him, but he’s too powerful to fight head on. We need to turn the tide against him before we’re nearly wiped out, and we do that by infiltrating his base.” He glances at you. “We need to get intel from there directly so we can figure out how to sabotage his operations, eliminate his members, and hit him where it hurts. Then, with the most powerful organization crumbling, we can take over.” 
You mull the idea over in your mind. It’s a good idea in theory but you can’t imagine how you can possibly put it into action. “Do you know where his base is?” He shakes his head. You snort. “No offense, Yuta, but for all your wittiness, this plan is foolhardy. Not to mention risky. How do you intend on infiltrating him? He’s smart, powerful, and hides in the shadows. No one knows who or where he is.”
Yuta smiles. “Nobody did. But I do.” He rummages through his files. 
You blink. “You managed to uncover his real identity?”
“Yes.. with a great deal of tracking and tracing through member interactions, we’re about ninety percent sure of his identity.” He seems to find the file he was looking for and pulls up a paper for view. “And I need you to go in, pose as a new recruit, monitor them for a while and then come back and report to me.”
Now, you laugh. “What makes you think they’d just let me in willy nilly?”
Yuta grins behind the paper. “Because the Scorpion knows you.” You freeze. He puts the paper on top of a deck of documents in a folder and slides the case file across the table towards you. The thick stack of papers come into view haphazardly, but the printed photo on top slides stops your heart. Familiar eyes, face, all from your memories. “His name is Taeyong.”
Your mind swirls in flashbacks. Taeyong. A childhood friend. A friend whose father was a mob boss. Your father worked directly under him and you were Taeyong’s age, so naturally, you grew up together, from elementary into high school years. It was always expected that he was to take over his father’s position. His father’s organization was far reaching, well established, and successful. Yet no one would’ve ever believed Taeyong was a mob boss’ heir. He was always kind, funny, full of life, and soft. You’d watch him fall from the jungle gym and cry, thinking he’s soft, much too soft. You wondered how he could possibly be related to his ruthless father while wiping his tears and putting a bandaid on his wound, secretly hoping his softness never went away. 
But around high school, he’d suddenly grown shy, avoiding eye contact, avoiding everything, avoiding you completely. It hurt at first and then frustrated you to no end. You’d cornered him between the shelves of the library, watching his face painted full pink, flusteredly asking you what you were doing but all you could say was you’re my best friend, please don't leave me with tears in your eyes. He’d looked shocked, then relaxed, then apologized, finally, promising he wouldn’t. Painfully, painfully ironic because the next day was the last time you saw him.The police had managed to pin your father with evidence. Your dad suddenly made you pack and leave the state before he got caught. You recall crying in the car as you drove away from your home, your friends, from Taeyong. You’ve missed him every day since, even until now. Sometimes, the inexplicable aching emptiness threatens to swallow you whole.
Since moving here to a place outside police jurisdiction, your father began working directly under another mob boss. Twelve years later, it fell to his son Yuta’s leadership, while you followed your father’s footsteps after his early passing and joined to work directly under him. 
Yuta was reasonable but strict. And when he was ruthless, he was terrifying. Fitting for what was needed in a kingpin. He used you as his weapon for many missions and was usually successful. But this.. this is beyond what you had bargained for.
“Y/n?” Yuta’s voice shakes you out of your stupor. “Do you recognize him?” You blink rapidly, eyes tracing over the very grown features of the once lanky, shy boy you saw last. The Scorpion. So, it seems that Taeyong did take over his father’s position after all. 
“Yes,” you force out, voice shaky for some indiscernible reason.
“Great,” he sighs in relief. “I heard you grew up with him. We can use this to our advantage. If you try to join their organization, hopefully high up in the ranks. He might let you in easily. Then, you can infiltrate and we’ll have our victory on our hands.” Infiltrate. Let you in. You’ll have to see him again..
“No.” The word falls from your mouth before you can stop it. “I… I can’t do it.”
Yuta’s eyes narrow. “You’ve never refused a mission before. Why not?”
“We have uh..” your throat burns. “..history” 
He raises a brow, understanding seeping into his features. “A lover?”
Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “No.. just friends.”
Yuta looks skeptical. “How long ago?”
“Twelve years.” 
“Good. That's enough time to be over him, or for him to be over you.” He continues rummaging through papers. You realize he’s going to continue with this plan. Your eyes flit back to the photograph, of Taeyong staring up at you, of memory flashes of soft, sweet smiles and blushing and butterflies. The thought of seeing him again, of betraying him…
“Yuta.” He hums in question. “I can't do it. Find someone else.”
He glares at you before scoffing. “You’re being dramatic. Just get in there, infiltrate, and get out. Find his weak points, things we can take advantage of.” Yuta drops the other papers onto the table. “I can’t find someone else to do it. You’re the only one he won't suspect since he knows you.” You hesitate. He leans forward. “You’re telling me that you’d betray us, after a decade, for a boy you had a crush on in childhood?”
“Of course not!” You say, but uncertainty flares in your chest. You are fiercely loyal to Yuta. You can’t imagine betraying him for anyone else.. but this is different territory.
“Good. All you have to do is remember your allegiance and get intel and come back in a month.”
A month.. you will have to interact with taeyong for a month. “And how will I join them if I don’t know where their base is?”
“Easy. You talk to their recruiter.” He says, filing all the papers back into the folder. “I had one of our guys spread the word around about a daughter of a former mob member who has great skills for illegal activities. It’s only a matter of time before they call you.”
You snort. “Wow, you even gave them my phone number?”
“I don’t need to. They’ll trace you on their own.” He answers distractedly, gathering the files. “Why don’t you take the next week off? I don’t want you here when they trace your number and location. Maybe hang around in a coffee shop or something?”
You watch him, nerves creeping up. “You’ve really planned this out, huh? What if I had said no?”
He glances at you. “Remember, this is our only chance to take down the Scorpion and ensure our success for years. I’m not going to waste it. Besides,” he smiles, plopping the files into a near pile on the table. “You never had a choice anyway.”
...
You begrudgingly visit coffee shops, parks and other public places the next week and stay away from Yuta’s base. Sure enough, you get a call from a private number.The man on the other end identifies himself as a recruiter for an illicit organization. The recruiter’s voice was rich and sweet, like molasses or honey. You find yourself enjoying listening to it. He calls himself Jungwoo and says that he heard about you through his connections, that he knew your father worked for this group a long while ago, and that they’d love for you to work with them. You try to sound interested and accept, feeling your stomach churn all the while. You are that much closer to seeing Taeyong after over a decade. He tells you to go to a specific location in the city from where he will pick you up. You follow his directions and within an hour, you’re climbing into a sleek black van with a young, handsome man and driving down the highway.
“We know about your father. He was a well respected man. It’s a shame what happened,” he recounts.
“Yeah, a shame.” You reply distantly, your mind only on the idea of seeing Taeyong after all these years and spy and subsequently betray him. Your stomach churns more.
“Were you okay after that? Did you go into hiding?” 
“Uh.. yeah. The police never managed to catch my dad once we left this area.” You are careful to leave out the part where you got involved with another mob, unknowingly the rival of Taeyong’s.
“That’s good. It’s nice that you can return here now.” He smiles at you. You inspect him. Is everyone working under Taeyong going to be this nice? 
“When I join.. do you know what position I’ll be or… or who I’ll work under?”
He hums in thought. “Well, since you’re a fresh recruit, you’ll be at the bottom of the hierarchy. Give it a few years and you’ll work your way up. You may even work directly under the boss.”
A few years? You will never get valuable intel for Yuta while working as a simple recruit. You need to be higher up than that to get valuable information. The gears in your mind turn until you play the only card you have. “Is there a Taeyong there?”
Jungwoo freezes, eyes flitting to you suspiciously. Nobody is supposed to know who the boss is, so you’re hoping to play it off like a coincidence “Taeyong? How do you know him?” He asks guardedly. 
“We were friends when my father worked directly under his father. I was wondering if he was still here.” Jungwoo’s brows furrow, and you explain further. “Yes, we grew up together.”
Jungwoo gives you a once over before carefully acquiescing. “Yes.. there might be someone like that there. I’ll have to double check our members’ list when we get inside. We’re almost here anyway.” He pulls the car into the lot of a large building that looks like a typical financial office building. Jungwoo parks his car and takes you through the doors, past reception and towards the elevators. The lobby is filled with people who look like office workers, dressed in formal wear and carrying briefcases and files. You figure it’s a nice camouflage for the real happenings of this building. Yuta’s group is mainly hidden underground in the slums and didn’t need this much of a cover. Once in the elevators, you both go to the highest floor. Upon stepping out, you catch sight of the floor to ceiling windows in the hallway. You can see the entire city’s skyline from here. Jungwoo leads you to an empty office room with some chairs and tables. “Please wait here. I’ll uh… check if Taeyong is here and knows you.”
“Okay,” you say, watching him leave. The moment the door shuts closed, your heart begins pounding. You’ve rarely been nervous before, not even during missions or shootouts. But this is different, so wildly different, you don’t know how to behave. You settle for focusing on the stunning view outside the window in order to ground yourself. Not even five minutes later, the door swings open abruptly. You whirl around to see two figures standing in the doorway, making no effort to come inside the room.
One is unmistakably Taeyong, dressed in a suit and hair carefully combed back from his face. His face, that he grew into after all these years, makes your heart come to a stop. His eyes are the same, big and wide and wonderful, even wider now with the shocked expression he wears, along with his parted mouth. His hand is still clamped around the door knob as if it's an anchor to reality. He stands there motionless, eyes running over you in disbelief. Jungwoo stands behind him, slightly bewildered at his reaction. “Y/n?”
Similar shock and disbelief well up inside you. Your churning stomach turns into a butterfly garden. “Taeyong…”
Junwoo watches the exchange before stepping back into the hallway. “Okay.. I.. think I’ll just stand outside.” He disappears from behind Taeyong who dazedly steps into the room. He looks so grown and handsome, with the same eyes you’ve always known.
“Jungwoo asked me… if I knew a Y/n…” he says, his voice so familiar even after a decade. “All I did was just run over here…” He steps forward carefully towards you until he’s standing in front of you. With him so close, your stomach turns into a bursting mush of butterflies and tingles. With his dark eyes drinking in every feature of your face, you barely recall where you are and why you came here in the first place.
“I… It’s been a while,” you manage out.
He blinks, as if registering your voice. “Yes. You’re... grown up,” he flushes. “You’re beautiful.” Your face burns, and burns again when his lips fall into a fond smile, eyes running over your features.“I missed you,” he breathes out. You find yourself  sucking in a breath. “Can I hug you?”
You pull him into you without a word, arms wrapping tightly around him. He melts immediately, hands pressing you closer against his chest. You sigh in the embrace, head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you too,” you say, voice cracking a bit this time. The daily, inexplicable longing you’ve felt for a decade has all been washed away in this moment. He squeezes you tighter, nosing your hair, so warm and safe in your arms that you never ever want to leave. It's a minute or two before he reluctantly lets go with a warm smile. He still looks so soft, just as in childhood, and it’s hard to believe you’re hugging a kingpin of a criminal empire.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He touches your face again, gently. “Were you just recruited?” You nod, pressing your cheek into his hand. “Ah,” he blinks. “Jungwoo?” He calls. The man steps through the open door, eyes taking in the close distance between you two. “She’ll be working directly under me. Give her clearance to everything.”
Your brain grinds to a halt while Jungwoo looks skeptical. “Will she go through the initiation?”
“Not needed.” Taeyong turns back to you, eyes softening. “Her father worked with us for many years. No doubt she’ll be just as loyal as him.”
Jungwoo furrows his brows and looks as if he’s about to say something. Then, he stops himself, says “yes, Boss” and walks out the door, closing it behind him. Taeyong doesn’t pay any mind. He’s still gazing at you, smiling.
“So.. Boss huh?” 
He smiles, shrugging. “It took some getting used to.”
“For a kingpin called the Scorpion, you still look like the soft boy crying on the playground.”
He grins playfully. “Do I?” You nod, chuckling. “I’m glad you still remember.”
“Of course I remember. I remember everything about you.”
A light pink settles on his cheeks and you know you’re right; take out the title and he’s still the same boy you knew. “Listen, we actually have a meeting right now with my staff. I want you to join.”
And suddenly you remember why you’re here, how this is a supposed golden opportunity as Taeyong’s mob’s rival, and your heart bleeds in pain. “Ah.. is it really okay for me to join without an initiation?”
“Of course,” he answers easily, trusting, always too trusting. He hesitates and seems to gather courage to raise his hand and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Your stomach bursts into a mess of butterflies once again and you hold your breath, not daring to move. His eyes are soft and you find yourself mesmerized. “You’re already part of this family, just as your father was.”
You grow unbearably soft, forgetting even the guilt as you gaze silently back at him. He does the same, and the air shifts in the silence. He looks like he’s about to say something before someone knocks on the door. “Boss, the meeting is starting,” Jungwoo’s muffled voice sounds through the door.
Taeyong blinks himself back to the present and smiles warmly at you. At that moment, you know more than anything that you don't deserve him. “Come on, let’s go.”
...
The meeting is held in a large room at the end of a hallway that is covered in crystal clear, floor to ceiling windows. You marvel at just how much money this organization must be bringing in compared to Yuta’s. No wonder he wants to take down this group so badly. As soon as you enter, all eyes are on you. A dozen men and women are dressed in suits and formal wear, as if this were no different than a business conference. You have to admit, they play their front well. Taeyong enters behind you and closes the door before standing in front of the room. “Everyone, this is our new member.” He gestures to you and introduces your name. 
You feel self conscious as skeptical eyes burn into you from around the room. Given your experience with mobs and their initiation process, no new member should be joining the ranks so high up in the hierarchy, let alone be introduced directly by the boss himself to the inner circle. None of these people should know you yet. You should even be here in this room. And from their questioning glances at Taeyong, they know this too. Taeyong is either oblivious or ignores them by the time he’s done introducing you. You smile and bow slightly before awkwardly shuffling into the back of the room, out of sight, with everyone’s eyes following you all the way. 
Taeyong seems to ignore the confused glares and questioning glances and starts the meeting. He outlines high level happenings of the organization, just as a CEO would for a corporation. You watch him confidently explain plans, ask questions to different people, and instruct them on what to do. It’s a marvel, and so different from who you knew in childhood. You take in his frame, dressed in his blazer and black button down and with matching trousers. A kingpin indeed. After giving instructions specific to each person on how to execute the phases of their next operation, he dismisses the group and everyone shuffles out. Soon, he stands alone at the front of the room, peering at the laptop screen sitting open on the table.
You saunter over to him. “You didn’t give me any orders, Boss.”
He looks up suddenly, a little startled, then seems to register your words. You catch the slightest glimpse of a blush before he looks down and rubs his hand across his mouth, obscuring his cheeks. “We uh… may need help identifying possible locations of a big shipment dropoff. You can work with Jungwoo on that. He’ll let you know what to do.”
You notice how he avoids your eyes. “Is that an order?” His eyes stay trained on the laptop, hands moving up from his mouth to scratch the back of his neck.
“Uh huh.” He suddenly catches you trying to hold back a laugh and sighs, ducking his head. “This feels strange. I don’t like giving you orders.”
“I’m just like everyone else.”
He looks at you like he’s about to protest but looks down again. “You aren’t,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
And if that didn’t make your chest hurt with an absurd amount of heart flutters, you would be lying. You watch him silently, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll get right on it, Boss.”His cheeks seem to tint that much more as you leave the room.
...
You’re supposed to be collecting intel, not helping them, you try to remind yourself as you find Jungwoo’s desk out on the main floor of cubicles. He greets you and pulls up a chair beside him in front of his computer monitor.“So, how was your first day?” He smiles as you settle in.
“Not so bad. I think the skeptical looks will take some getting used to.”
“They’ll warm up. Your situation is unusual, after all,” Jungwoo comments. “I’m surprised how quickly you’ve adjusted without skipping a beat. Almost as if you’ve been working for another organization all along,” he jokes. You laugh nervously. “Speaking of unusual, Taeyong seems to .. like you.” He eyes you inquisitively.
“Yeah. I’ve known him for a while. We didnt get to have a proper goodbye the last time we saw each other.”
“I see,” Jungwoo nods. “So were you together? Back before…”
“Oh no, we weren’t,” you shake your head. “Just friends.”
He squints, smiling. “Really? Because you two seem awfully close. I’ve actually never seen him like this before. I’ve been working closely with him for a while now and he has a tendency towards being on the softer side but he is never not strict and can be ruthless when needed. That’s how we become so successful. But with you, all that seems to melt away.”
You can’t imagine Taeyong being ruthless. Ever since childhood, and even until now, he’s been nothing but sweet and kind in everything that he does. “I think he’s just sentimental,” you wave it off. “It’s been twelve years, after all.”
Jungwoo doesn’t seem to buy it. “Whatever it is, it’s only a matter of time before he starts showing favoritism towards you and everyone will take notice. Actually, he already has shown favoritism, and everyone has taken notice.”
Your cheeks burn. You were supposed to not draw attention to yourself. “If you’re talking about letting me in without going through initiation, I think that was just a one time thing. I’m sure from now on, I’ll be treated just like everyone else. No special attention here.” 
Jungwoo is about to say something before a woman approaches his desk, calling your name. “Boss wants to see you in his office.”
Jungwoo gives you an insufferably knowing look. You ignore him and follow the lady. She guides you down the main floor of cubicles and towards the end of the hallway with large wooden double doors. It’s clearly the room of someone important. She drags open one heavy door by the long vertical handle and ushers you inside. You step tentatively through and balk at the scene before you. Taeyong’s office is massive - as big as a house. The ceilings are two stories tall. On the left wall, there is a main desk area in front of three bookshelves and various art decor. An armchair sits behind the large desk made of some fancy high caliber wood. On the right, there is a seating area with leather couches and chairs upon an expensive looking, misshapen- shaped rug. Of course, there’s a marble fireplace on the right wall to top it off.
“Oh my god,” you whisper as you step in. Yuta would be fuming with jealousy if he saw this.
You hear a chuckle. You didn’t even notice Taeyong standing by the back end of the room, given that the size of his office completely dwarfs him. He walks towards you with a wine bottle in hand. “Do you like it?” He smiles. “It’s my favorite room in the whole building.”
You step further into the room, taking in even more details you didn’t see at first glance. The leather of the armchair, the carved ivy detailing on the fireplace, the nameplate on his desk that looks suspiciously like it’s made of gold. “Yeah, I can see why.”
He grins again, motioning to his wine glass. “I was thinking we can catch up over wine. We barely had a chance to talk today. And we have twelve years to cover.”
You smile slowly and nod. “Sounds like a great idea.”
Within twenty minutes, you two are laughing over sloshing wine glasses and reminiscing excitedly over old memories. “I could not believe you,” he laughs, filling your glass again.
“I just wanted to know what riding on a bus felt like!” You protest, lifting the glass just as he was done pouring to take another sip.
“But you got on the bus with no ticket at eight years old?” He gazes at you, wide eyed.
“I was curious what a bus would be like! I’m pretty sure the bus driver thought I was one of the other passenger’s kids when I came on so he didn’t bother with the ticket.”
He struggles, laughing between breaths. “How long did it travel before you started freaking out?”
“Like ten minutes.” He laughs louder, hitting his hand on the desk you both are leaning against. “I demanded to be let off. I realized I didn’t know any of those people or where I was going. It was a good thing the bus stopped near your house.”
“I remember you rang the door crying,” he giggles, sipping his glass. “I figure being so rich really does inspire curiosity in such everyday things.”
“Yeah, with all that untaxed money our fathers made from illegal activities, we missed out on a lot of everyday things, so I was completely justified.” You emphasize, watching him laugh again. You smile giddily, feeling energized and oddly proud you can make him laugh so much. 
“Of course you were,” he acquiesces easily. 
“Our fathers were always busy but do you remember how they’d just drop us off at one of our houses or the other when they needed to go to work?”
“Oh yeah, those playdates were fun.” He smiles, eyes distant. “You were genuinely my only friend back then.”
You protest with a noise before you even finish drinking from the glass. “That’s not true! Remember your ninth birthday party with all our classmates?”
He scoffs before taking another sip, his smile fading. “Yeah, classmates, not friends. Remember that one kid blew out my birthday cake candles before I could? And I just broke down in tears?”
“Oh no, I do remember.” You recount your sadness while watching your friend crying and then the burning anger your nine-year-old self felt afterwards. “Oh and then I-“
“Then you took a chunk of the cake and shoved into that kid’s face,” Taeyong laughs brightly. “You got in so much trouble. And you ruined the cake, but that made my day.” You giggle, remembering the lecturing by multiple parents and the annoying kid crying into his mother’s skirt with pieces of cake still smeared on his face. All that mattered to you though was that Taeyong was smiling through the entire aftermath.
“I didn’t like that kid anyway. He teased me on the playground every day, yet my mom invited him.”
You frown. “I hated him for that.”
He looks at you fondly. “I know.”
You flush a little bit under his gaze, then straighten up and blame it on the alcohol. “Remember middle school and high school and how awkward we got?”
Yong suddenly grows shy and scratches his neck. “Ah yeah… I regret those days.”
“Puberty does wonders,” you roll your eyes before looking at him pointedly. “And our peers not minding their own business while being extremely heteronormative and interrogating any co-ed friendship throughout the entire school,” you point your glass at him. “Which ultimately led you to completing ghosting me freshman year.”
Yong waves his wine glass in apology, approaching you. “I’m sorry! People wouldn’t leave me alone! Besides.. you were ah..” he trails off, looking to the side as he always does when he's embarrassed. You mentally note again how difficult it is to believe he’s a mob boss. 
“I was what?” You press lightly.
“You were becoming really pretty and.. uh.. I.. was a toad,” he sighs.
You laugh out loud, reaching out to hold his hand in comfort. “You were not!” 
“I was! Do you even know what fifteen year old boys look like?” He shakes his head as he comes to stand before you. “All the wrong proportions.”
You shake your head, smiling giddily at the wine flowing through your system. You set your glass down onto his desk and tug him closer by the shoulders. “You were perfect,” you say purposefully, but don't miss the way a flush rises to his cheeks. Whether it's from the wine or your words or both, you can't tell. “Remember when I cornered you in the library sophomore year?”
His eyes widen. “Yes! I couldn’t tell if you were going to punch me or kiss me.”
You laugh again. “But instead I cried and said I missed you and asked you to talk to me again.”
Taeyong chuckles, eyes growing sober. “Yeah. And I promised to. But the next day..”
“Yeah, the next day.. I left.” Silence fills the room. The muscles of your face are slightly tired from all the smiling. You realize you’ve barely registered how close Taeyong has come to stand in the midst of talking. Your hands are still on his shoulders. His smile fades away until now there's an intense look in his eyes.
“I missed you, Y/n.”
Your chest aches. “Me too. I missed you too.” His eyes dart between yours, and find yourself falling into them. They are the same sparkling, wondrous, soulful eyes you've always known, which have always looked at you like this. It's when these eyes dart to your lips that your mind stops working. A burning, fluttering sensation erupts in your stomach like it did when you were back in middle school, being questioned by your friends on if you were in love with Lee Taeyong. You register him leaning a bit closer. His nose nudges yours, hands slide around your waist, and his hot breath fans your mouth. You subconsciously tighten your grip on his shoulders, your heart rate speeding up, your stomach twisting into knots. All you have to do is angle your head up…. 
Your lips barely brush his before a loud knock erupts from the double doors. Both of you freeze and are ripped back into reality. “Boss? Something just came up. We need you in the meeting room.” A muffled voice sounds through the door. 
Your hands retract from Taeyong’s shoulders with heat crawling across your face. His hands slip from your waist in return, his head falling forward in disappointment before calling out, “I’ll be right there.”
You clear your throat, cheeks burning. “I should go. Unless you need me for whatever that is.“
He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his mouth like he does to hide his blush. “No no, you go on home. I don’t want you to be overworked on your first day.”
You gaze at him. He looks a bit put out and avoids all eye contact, frowning. You briefly wonder if he even enjoys being a mob boss. You lean up and kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He brightens up considerably, a smile blooming back onto his lips, eyes sparkling once more. “Yeah.. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
...
You return home in the evening, mentally replaying every single moment of that day. You swear your heart feels lighter than it has in years, as if the answers to all your life questions have been found. The world around you even seems to be a bit more colorful and you find yourself enjoying the walk from the parking lot to your apartment. You lightly smack your head. “Oh god, what am I doing? I’m a member of the mafia, not a giddy high school girl in love.”
Were you in love? Your cheeks burn, remembering how you shamefully melted at every single thing Taeyong did and said today. You even threw all caution to the wind and almost kissed him. You force yourself back to reality with a pounding heart. You really don’t want to know the answer to your question. You spot something in front of your doorstep and find a small cardboard package addressed to you from an unknown address. You step inside your apartment and rip open the cardboard flaps, revealing a brand new cell phone with a note. It reads: Activate this. Don’t take this anywhere outside your house. So, Yuta sent you a separate untraceable phone with which you can contact him to provide intel. You loathe how smart that man is. Groaning, you plop onto the couch and activate the phone.  As soon as it’s set up, you receive a call. “Hello?”
“Missed me?” Yuta’s voice sounds from the other end.
You rub your forehead. “You tracked my location to figure out when I came home so you could call me?” 
“Yes but mainly so I could find out where the Scorpion’s base was,” you hear him smiling on the other end. “And now I do, thanks to you.”
“Great,” you say sarcastically. Now Yuta knows where the headquarters are. You’re not sure if that’s good. 
“So?” He prods. “Tell me everything.” You hesitate and then relay to him how you were accepted without initiation and are working directly under Taeyong. You feel dirty while doing it, knowing you’re nothing but a weapon to Yuta for selling out a man who completely trusts you. “Good. Very good. Keep doing this until you collect enough information that we can use to really hurt them.”
“…Alright,” you say tiredly. There’s a glaring silence from the other end. You sigh and adjust your tone.  “Yes, Boss, I’ll get right on it.”
“Good,” he says before hanging up. You toss the phone across the cushion, feeling disgusted. What are you doing? How can you do this to Taeyong? You bury your head in your hands, mulling over your reality. At the same time, Yuta and his father helped you and your family when you had no one. You feel guilty if you don't do as he says, as if you were caught between two impossible choices.
You don't sleep well that night. 
...
You return to the office the next day. Jungwoo texted beforehand asking if you needed a ride to the office but you figured you could take your own car. Once you’re inside the building, it amazes you again just how much like a typical financial office space the entire place looks. People are busy with files and documents, rushing this way and that in their business clothes, meetings are held in conference rooms, and telephones ring throughout the floor. What a mask for the sheer amount of illegal activities happening here. You find Jungwoo seated at his desk, working away already. He greets you with a smile and a pat to the chair next to his. You vaguely remember you’re supposed to be helping him pick locations for some shipment dropoff. 
“Shall we pick up where we left off yesterday? You know, before the Boss whisks you away again?” He grins, teasingly. “By the way, I saw you leaving the office yesterday looking very flushed.”
Yesterday's memories flash through your mind, of the laughing and flushed cheeks and that almost kiss. You clear your throat abruptly. “We were just drinking wine and catching up.”
He grins into his coffee mug, swinging his chair a little to face his computer screen, not believing you for one second. You sigh and begin your work, asking plenty of questions when you need to. Jungwoo is kind and explains everything, their operations, clients, alliances, even the hierarchy of the organization itself. It’s a wealth of intel and you loathe it. You loathe having to know and learn things from people who trust you. You dread having to report it to Yuta. Your resolve in this “mission” falters by the day and you’re not sure your loyalty can last this week.  
You barely see Taeyong today. You only catch a glimpse of him talking to a subordinate in the hallway before disappearing into his office. Whatever came up yesterday must have made him very busy. You try not to deflate. Once the day ends, you bid Jungwoo goodbye, give one last glance at the hallway to Taeyong’s office and head home. You don’t get a call from Yuta that night. After all, he made it clear that you are expected to call him and report any new intel you receive, but you don't have it in you today, or for any day for that matter. The evening passes by uneventfully and you fall asleep in your bed. 
...
Like a dutiful employee, you return to the office the next day and the next, slowly getting used to the daily routine of the organization. You even begin to enjoy it. You are given the easiest tasks and are often paired up with Jungwoo, who you already know and who readily helps you understand things. You wonder how many new initiates were afforded the same privilege upon joining. Taeyong even invites you to his office again a few times this week for more wine and story time sessions. You’re happy to see him, but this time, you’re careful to keep a distance and not drink too much lest you repeat what almost happened the other night. Kissing him would make things… complicated, even more than they are now. You're not sure you’ll go back to Yuta if you do, no matter how much you want to kiss him. Taeyong seems to notice your distance and keeps a respectful space. You try not to feel disappointed that he does.
From the outside, it becomes evident that everyone else views you differently. They either avoid you completely or are overly respectful and almost treat you as their boss. You ponder Jungwoo’s words earlier, that everyone will take notice of Taeyong’s favoritism of you. The regularly scheduled rendezvous office sessions with their Boss probably aren't helping. You wonder if your preferential treatment will invite resentment from anyone. So far, everyone has been respectful to you, but by the end of the week, you get your answer.
You get your answer to two things, actually. One, your preferential treatment definitely does invite someone’s resentment. Two, you couldn't imagine Taeyong being ruthless. You said that before today. On the way to Taeyong’s office one day for another meet up, one of the male employees lingers behind you, the same one you’ve seen around with a perpetual stink eye and a bad attitude. You don’t recall exactly what happens, only that he’s spitting insults at you as he follows that steadily grow to shouting. 
“Outsider!” He shouts. “You didn’t even go through the initiation and you’re on more classified projects than I am!? Hell, you’re probably making more money than me.” You shoot him a glare without a word. You’re almost to Taeyong’s office. The brute will leave you alone then.
“Doesn’t even have the decency to turn around,” he growls. “Fucking bitch.” Then, his hand is in your hair, yanking you backwards sharply against his chest. The pain is like needles shooting throughout your scalp, stars and tears bursting from your eyes. Despite the shock, your training kicks in immediately, and you elbow him in the ribs so that he keels over. He lets go of your hair, giving you the chance to turn around and go for a kick to the chest.
You don’t have a chance to do anything else before someone is throwing him off of you. He’s knocked into the wall of the hallway before he falls down. Taeyong is bent over him, clutching the man’s jacket until his knuckles turn white to lift him partly off the ground. He is absolutely furious, something you have never ever seen before, yelling something that you don't register. Then, he punches him in the face. Other people are shouting and running down the hall towards you three. Taeyong’s eyes are hard, jaw clenched, his fist cocked and pulled back as if to punch the man again. You step forward, hands finding his shoulders and stepping him away from the man groaning on the floor. Taeyong’s eyes are cold and glaring.
“I want him out!” He shouts, uncharacteristic, pointing past your shoulder. “I want him stripped of everything, all clearances, documents, his name on everything. I want him out of here and dropped at a police station! He can rot in jail for all I care!” People rush to do his bidding, restraining the groaning man and lifting him off the ground. An ugly bruise is already forming on his cheek where Taeyong punched him. You tug him into his office and shut the large door closed. The commotion and noise from outside is muffled here in the silence of his room. Taeyong however is still restless. His chest is heaving in anger, jaw clenching as he paces back and forth. He’s clutching his one fist, which seems slightly swollen. 
“That fucking pig.” He growls, taking you back. You’ve never even heard him curse before today. “What the hell was he thinking!? Putting his hands on…” he focuses on you, softening. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? Of course he hurt you, I saw him-“ his voice wavers before becoming harsh again. “I swear to God I will-“
“Taeyong, hey, look at me,” you reach for his arms to stop him from pacing. He stops moving and closes his eyes to take a deep breath. In the next moment, he exhales and opens his eyes to gaze at you, his stunning eyes that you’ve loved for years. Your heart softens. You don’t want him to be in such pain. 
“I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this,” he mumbles.
“Well, he got what he deserved. You just beat me to the punch.” 
“It’s not that. I’m not this jittery or restless. I’ve dealt with worse than these kind of people before. I would’ve instructed someone else to restrain him but when I saw that it was you, I…” he trails off, eyes growing unfocused.
“Are you okay?” You cup his bruised hand.
His eyes flit back to you. “You’re asking me?” He releases another breath, thinks for a moment and shakes his head. “No I’m not,” his voice wavers.
You push forward and hug him gently. You wonder if it’s been a long time since he’s lost his composure. “I’m okay. I'm here and I'm okay.” You can feel him trembling against you and slowly relax, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against him. Then he gives in, inhaling your scent and burying his face in your neck. 
“You’re okay,” he repeats, a bit shakily. You’re taken aback about how absolutely undone he is, how worried, how much he cares for you. It might even be a trauma response from you disappearing from his life all those years ago without a word.
A lump forms in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shoulder. He pulls away in confusion, his wonderful eyes roaming your face in question. “Not for this. I’m sorry I left. I.. must have put you through so much pain.”
His eyelids flutter, arms around you squeezing tighter. It’s ridiculously comforting. “That wasn’t your fault.” You stay silent, tucking your chin back onto his shoulder, heart feeling heavy. “I’m sorry for what that pig did to you.” His voice is harsh, and you can feel his jaw clenching against your shoulder. “He was always a shady guy, harassing other members.” 
You pull away slightly. “It's okay, it's not my first time.” He looks at you with such disturbed anguish you feel bad for saying anything. “But I'm okay. I'm alright.” 
He sighs and gives you a thin smile. Then, he blinks and remembers to let you go. Your arms detangle from each other and you stand there, gazing silently, before he speaks. “I’m sure you could have taken him,” he smiles.
“Yes, I could have,” you grin. 
He smiles a bit proudly, then looks to the door. “I should.. take care of the commotion outside.”
You nod. “Sure.. and thank you.”
He looks confused then looks away, scratching his neck “You don't have to thank me. It was… well I didn’t even process what I was doing when I did it.”
You smile. “Still, I got to see another side of you.”
He flushes, looking away. “And you… you like it?”
You shrug. “I finally know why you're a mob boss.”
He smiles, his expression almost relieved, before he chuckles and takes his leave. When he disappears into the hallway outside, you feel an ache from the empty feeling of missing his arms around you. When you get home and Yuta calls, there's no information you want to give him. “What did you learn this week?”
“Nothing.”
Silence fills the room for a moment. “Are you serious? You’ve been there for a week now and there's no new info?” 
“What do you want to know, Yuta?” You snap. The deceptiveness of this mission has finally taken its toll on you. Seeing Taeyong drop everything to defend you today is enough to make you not want to help Yuta again. 
“I don’t know! Key operations? Shipment drop-offs? Members' names? Where can we hurt them the most, Y/n!?”
You groan internally, wishing you can just hang up. You remember finishing your task with Jungwoo in picking a drop off location for a shipment. You figure this is relatively harmless information to keep Yuta off your back. “They’re dropping off some important shipment for some high profile clients, probably government officials, tomorrow at eleven at the hotel on twelfth street. Maybe if you intercept them you can get that shipment and hurt Taeyong’s operations.”
“Taeyong? You’re not calling him the Scorpion anymore?”
You curse mentally. “Scorpion, sorry.”
There’s silence from the other line. “This information is barely useful but I’ll take it.” He pauses. “Do you remember where your loyalty lies?”
You roll your eyes. “Of course.”
“Good. Because the minute it changes, I’ll have you extracted from there.” He hangs up abruptly. It’s a threat. He knows your allegiance has changed. Although, it’s not as if you tried very hard to conceal that fact.
...
You decide to go in late the next day after lunch, mainly because you were tossing and turning awake all night. But the minute you walk into the office, the air is different. Everyone is tense and nervously mumbling. You approach Jungwoo at his desk who also looks more nervous than usual. You take in his bouncing leg and him peering at the computer monitor, reading an email intently. He barely notices when you slide into the chair next to him. “What’s wrong with everybody today?” Jungwoo startles at your voice, but instead of greeting you with a warm smile as he usually does, he looks at you sympathetically. You gaze at him, your smile fading. “Jungwoo, what is it?”
“Taeyong was shot.”
“What!?” you stand up so fast, the chair tips over and clatters to the floor behind you. He stands up with you, hands up in a placating gesture.
“Listen, he’s fine! He was meeting with some government officials today during our dropoff location and somehow, someone seemed to know he was there and that he was the Scorpion. They tried to take him out.” You are paralyzed, a wave of nauseas guilt hitting you all at once. “I’m not sure what followed. There was a scuffle of some kind, maybe he fought the gunman after being shot.. the details were unclear. It was a bullet graze to his shoulder and a few other injuries from the scuffle. He got checked at the hospital and they bandaged him up. He’s resting at home now. But he’s kind of depressed and won’t let anyone in, he said, though I think he’ll make an exception for you.”
Your heart flips. “Can I see him?” He nods and both of you hurriedly take your leave and get into Jungwoo’s car to drive to Taeyong’s home. His “home” turns out to be a ridiculously sized penthouse in a ridiculously sized high rise luxury apartment. “I guess the salary is good,” you mumble, peering up at the building from your window.
Jungwoo snorts. “You have no idea.” You enter the equally ridiculously luxurious lobby and Jungwoo escorts you to a special elevator that seems off limits to everyone else. “This will take you directly to his apartment.” He says, ushering you inside the elevator and pulling out a card from his wallet. “Just text me to let me know when you want me to take you home.”
You watch him scan the card against a pad and step back out of the elevator. “Thank you, Jungwoo,” you say sincerely.
He gives a nod. “Just make sure he’s alright.”
Then, the doors close, cutting off your view of him, before you’re taken directly to the top floor. With a ding, the doors open, revealing polished marble floor and ceiling. You step through hesitantly. His penthouse is much like his office, oversized and luxurious. It’s two stories tall with marble walls and floor, and a floor to ceiling window view of the city skyline in the living room that stops your breath. You wonder if he lives in this entire place alone, as you wander through the space. Somehow, you find your way to his bedroom and knock on the door. You hear a groan from the other end. “I said go away, Jungwoo, I don’t want-“
“It’s me.” Silence answers from the other side before you hear a small “come in.”Your heart leaps into your throat when you spot him lying on the bed with a bloody bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Other cuts and bruises litter his arms and face, and probably his torso which are obscured by his shirt. Tears sting your eyes. You see people injured everyday as part of your job but this is not bearable. Even worse, this is all your fault, all because you told Yuta that intel about the drop off. Now Taeyong’s injured, and nearly died because of you. You’ve never felt so disgusted with yourself. “Oh.. oh no,” you hold back a sob as you approach his bed. 
Taeyong gazes up at you, no doubt able to see your stress. He even offers a small smile as you sit down gently at the edge of the bed, your stomach churning at the bloodied bandage on his shoulder. “I’m guessing I’ve looked better?” He smiles, though his eyes are tired. You blink back your tears, not even processing his humor. Your hand comes up to hover over his cheek. He gazes up at you with what looks like hope. You banish all doubts and gently cup his cheek, finger stroking his slightly bruised skin. His eyes flutter closed and he nuzzles your hand immediately. Your heart squeezes in pain and affection.
“Taeyong, I…” you swallow a heavy breath. What can you say? You’re sorry? Sorry for not protecting him? Sorry this is all your fault? Sorry, you were sent here as a spy to gather intel and you’ve been lying to his face this entire time? Guilt stabs at you ruthlessly, as you gaze down at this sweet boy meant for a softer life than this. Instead of speaking, you take clean cloth nearby and gently wipe a dirt smudge from his cheek. He watches you silently, his eyes like the starry night sky that you fight not to focus on. You spot a deep bruise on his wrist, and take another clean bandage to wrap around it. His hand is light in yours, his eyes watching you carefully. Once you’re done, you can't help but raise his hand to your lips and kiss his wrist reverently. His chest stutters in breath. Cuts on his fingers and the back of his hand catch your eye this time. You take another bandage and clean each one, kissing them too, one by one. His eyes turn soft, always soft when they’re on you.
“Does it hurt?” You ask softly when you’re done.
“Not anymore.” 
You flush, turning back to his fingers, stroking them gently with your own. ‘Remember how I used to put bandaids on you when you fell on the playground?”
He smiles and the butterflies take flight in your stomach. “Of course. You’d grumble that it’s not that bad while putting it on and looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like… like I’m the most precious thing in the world,” he says softly, “Like you love me. Like how you’re doing right now.”
You fall completely silent, the breaths halting in your chest. Wordless gazes are exchanged. Then, he reaches up with his good hand, tangles his fingers in your hair, and pulls you down to kiss him. You don’t resist and melt so fast against his lips it's almost embarrassing, but he could never make you feel embarrassed. His kiss is soft, reverent, and gentle. You sigh into his lips as he strokes your hair gently. Warmth blooms and spreads to every inch inside of you until he pulls away with soft lidded eyes. Your forehead rests on his. Both your eyes are closed with breaths mingling as you both savor the moment after so many years of waiting. Then, he kisses your forehead and your heart twists again, with guilt and love and pain and all. 
“Taeyong I…” you struggle and he notices. His newly bandaged hand comes up to stroke your cheek in comfort as he nuzzles your nose. “I’m so sorry.”
He takes it as you being sorry for his injuries, because he doesn't know. Doesn’t know you’re a traitor. “Don’t be. I was careless.”
You can’t even object and explain that he never did anything wrong. Frustration wells up inside you. “After all these years I just want to be with you.” 
It’s a careless slip, a frustrated wish voiced aloud when it was meant to be kept buried in your thoughts. But it’s too late. A light kindles in Taeyong’s eyes that replaces all the tiredness they held before. His lips lift into a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter in all ways and you realize you are doomed. You never had a chance against him.
“Then be with me.”
...
After more bandages and kisses, you don’t want to leave Taeyong, but know he needs rest. When you let him know as much, he pouts and asks you to stay. You give him a final kiss to the forehead in response and tell him you’ll be back tomorrow. He lets you go after that. Literally. He was holding onto your wrist to prevent you from leaving. 
With your heart thumping and affection running high, you give Jungwoo a call and ask him to pick you up and drop you back at your place. You thank him profusely for doing it so late in the night. When you step through the door, you spot the secret cell phone that Yuta gave you lying on the table, and feel anger rip through your body. It was Yuta. He took your intel about the drop off and sent men there to steal or sabotage it or who knows what else. When they saw Taeyong, they couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kill the boss. It’s a miracle Taeyong even made it out alive. You grit your teeth and pick up the phone. A notification pops up with 3 missed calls from Yuta. Without another thought, you call him back. It goes straight to voicemail. You figure. It’s late in the night so you decide to leave a message. As soon as you hear the beep, you growl into the phone. “The deal’s off. I can't do it and I’m not coming back.”
You hang up and pull out your own personal phone, holding the two cells side by side in your hands. Yuta’s tracking both of them. You make up your mind to have both destroyed and dumped tomorrow.
... 
You feel much freer going to work after that voicemail for Yuta and destroying both your phones. You let Jungwoo know you need a new phone and it takes no effort for him to get you one. Besides this, it takes a few weeks for Taeyong’s shoulder to heal. He misses work the entire time and rests at home. You visit him after work each day and take your own car so as to not bother Jungwoo. Most of the evenings and nights are spent changing his bandages, talking and sharing sweet kisses.
“It's nice to be taken care of,” he comments, sitting on the edge of the bed. He has a tank top and you try not to fixate on the muscles of his arms as you remove his shoulder gauze. 
“No one’s ever taken care of you while injured?” You ask, putting some ointment on his shoulder wounds. He winces a little and you give him an apologetic look.
“Well, I live mostly by myself. And I've never been this injured before. Jungwoo does have access in case of an emergency and he needs to get me. But other than that, no one knows I live here.”
You lift his arm slightly to wrap the gauze over and around his shoulder. His eyes roam your face, watching your concentrated features. “But this giant penthouse and no one ever comes by? That’s lonely. Especially knowing you,” you smile.
He smiles back before scratching his ear. “Uh, well.. I’m not entirely alone here. Sometimes my past partners would stay here.”
“Past partners?”
“Yeah.. you know, relationships.”
“Oh,” you say. Of course he hasn’t been single, you mentally note, just look at him. The thought makes you feel strange, though. You’ve missed such a huge chunk of each other’s lives but feel like you’ve known him forever. You finish wrapping the bandage around his shoulder.
“But I'm glad you’re here and not.. them or anyone else,” he manages out. “To be honest,” he laughs, looking down at his hands, the cuts having healed long ago. “I was looking for you in those people, but never quite found you.”
Your heart melts, eyes taking in the way he’s bent forward, avoiding your own. You cup his cheeks, bending over to kiss his forehead. “I was looking for you too all these years.”
He glances up and smiles slowly. “Really?” You nod. “So, we wasted our time?”
Your thumb strokes his cheek, and you watch the way his eyes flutter. “I suppose we did.”
“Well, in that case, we’d better make up for it.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his chest so hard you both topple backwards onto the mattress.
Surprised laughter bursts from you, hands trying to push him off as he rolls you to the side and onto the bed. “You’re injured! Stop it!” you say between laughs.
He tries to prop himself on the bed with you underneath him, eyes dancing with amusement. “I'm the kingpin of the greatest mob empire. A little shoulder wound won’t - ow!” his shoulder flinches as he puts pressure on it.
Concern floods your chest. “See, I told you.” You maneuver him to rest flat on the bed against his pillow once again. “You need to rest, oh great kingpin lord of everything.”
Unbelievably, he pouts. So you acquiesce and lean over to kiss him. He hums happily, threading his hands through your hair. When you pull back, his eyes are soft. “Can you stay tonight?” You glance at his shoulder but he tugs at your arm. “Please? I don’t get sleep anyway when you’re not here.”
You swallow, gazing at his pleading eyes. “Of course.” A smile blooms on his face before he makes room for you to lie down next to him. Your body is a mess of nerves and butterflies but once you’ve settled in his soft sheets, he immediately wraps his good arm around your waist and bends forwards to kiss your forehead.
“Goodnight Y/n,” he sighs, snuggling closer. 
“Goodnight,” you echo, feeling more comfortable than you have in a long time. 
...
The next day, you wake up feeling well rested for the first time in your life. Taeyong’s body is plastered to your back, his good arm wrapped around your waist like a vice. The sunlight filters through his window blinds, falling onto his soundly sleeping face like bars of gold, and you think, just here and now, life is perfect. You’re not sure you’ve ever said that before. 
You flip over to see him. Your heart lurches at his peacefully sleeping face. He looks like an angel. You push back his hair from his eyes and lean over to press a slow kiss to his temple.
He stirs, inhaling. “Hmm, what was that for?” he asks sleepily, eyes still closed. 
You chuckle at his sleepy smile.“Nothing. You looked cute.”
He blinks open one eye. You giggle at his messy hair. “Cute, huh? I’m the mob kingpin lord of everything and you call me cute?” he mumbles sleepily.
“Hmm, definitely the cutest king for sure.”
He chuckles, reaches his arms over his head to stretch but flinches in pain, bringing his arm back down. “Ah, still sensitive.”
Worry flashes through you. “Are you sure you wanna come in today?”
“Yeah, it's been over a week and I'm feeling much better. Besides, a mob can't run without its cute boss.” He mumbles sleepily, throwing his good arm around your waist again. You gaze at him longer, your heart fluttering. It’s a slow realization that also happens all at once somehow - you want this everyday, for as long as you imagine. It grows worse the longer you stare at him. He cracks an eye open. “What?” 
It’s impossible to hold it back now no matter how much you try. “I love you.”
He grows still, both eyes flying open as he gazes at you in slight surprise. “What?”
You run your fingers through his soft strands again, pushing them away from his eyes, your heart lurching. “I love you.” Your voice is soft, almost as if you’ll shatter him.
Taeyong stares for a moment before pulling you in to kiss you, morning breath and all, but you can’t give a care in the world. When he finally lets go, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I love you too. So much.” You laugh in disbelief as he cups your cheek and presses his forehead to yours. “To be honest, I’ve been having trouble holding those words back since the first day you came here.” Love flares in his eyes. “I loved you even before this. I’ve loved you since childhood.”
You’re slightly surprised at the sting of tears in your eyes. “I’ve loved you since then too.” 
Taeyong cups your cheeks and presses short kisses again and again on your lips, saying I love you between each one. You chuckle, blinking back tears as you accept them. Then, he pushes aside the heavy comforter, and rolls you over so that he’s on top, kissing and gently stroking your hair, making your heart lurch over and over again. Soon, his short kisses become longer until your mouths are pushing and pulling like tides. You kiss until your lungs burn. When you pull back, gasping for breath, he presses his forehead to yours. 
“Y/n,” he mumbles reverently. Your fingers skit down his jaw to the nape of his neck. He shivers in response, hot breath fanning your lips. You pull him impossibly closer to you and he meets your lips again. His tongue slips through your lips this time and sends sparks through your stomach. It grazes your own tongue, and you sigh, letting yourself melt into him, his warmth and body heat, the unbelievable feeling of being in his arms, his fringes tickling your forehead, his breath fanning your face. You kiss until you can't take it anymore.
He whines a little as you pull away once again. You laugh breathily, watching him balance on his propped arms over you. “Isn’t your shoulder hurting like that?”
He gives you a boyish, lopsided smile. “Honestly, my shoulder has been hurting the entire time, but I don't care.” In horror, you try to rip away from him but he easily drags you back and pins you to the bed without so much as a retort. His fingers intertwine with yours and hold them against the pillow. 
“For a cute mob boss, you’re pretty strong,” you remark. He only grins and buries his head in your neck, pressing kisses down the skin. More electricity buzzes through your body. His kisses are hot and wet and you arch when he meets a pulse point. Your voice comes out shaky. “Taeyong, if you keep going, I won't be able to-“
“Me neither,” he answers. His voice is a different color than usual, one that you haven't heard before. It’s gravelly and rough. Combined with his body insistently pressing yours into the mattress and his kisses to your neck, your body turns into a mess of tingles and butterflies. 
His teeth nips your pulse point and you gasp, pressing your hips against his slightly. He picks up on this imperceptible movement and rolls his hips against yours with a low groan. You can feel him through his pants, and you arch and moan at the friction. Your hands clutch the cloth of his tank top from his back until it's bunched in your fist. He pulls back a small to observe your reaction, his pupils dilated.
His hand comes up to touch your face reverently. “Y/n, do you want to…”
“Yes, keep going, please.” You should be ashamed at how easily you beg, but you could never feel that way for him, especially with the way his pupils dilate and his breath comes out ragged.
“How far.. do you want to go?”
“Everything, I want everything from you,” you press your head to his, feeling strangely emotional. “I just want you, please.” He seems still for a moment, gorgeous dark eyes boring into yours. The uneven breaths fill the silence, as if he were savoring this moment. Then he reaches down , fingers slipping inside your pants, and pressing your clit through panties. A moan falls from your lips, your hips arching towards his touch. His dark eyes drink in every reaction. Then, he moves to suck your neck again and you’re clutching his tank top harshly as he works your clit, moaning into his ear. You have half a mind to drag his tank top half way up his chest until he gets the idea and pulls away from you. He sits up, slipping it over his head, and tosses it to the side, revealing his bare skin with tattoos littered here and there. When he falls back to you, carefully supporting his injured shoulder, you drag him in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful.”
He moans slightly into your mouth, tongues meeting again before pulling away. “I can say the same for you.” He eyes your shirt. “Can I?”
“Yes,” you manage out.
His lithe hands peel your shirt up and over your head. His eyes roam over your torso with a bated breath as you sit up a little and undo your bra. It’s a few seconds of awed silence once you lie back down before his hot mouth planting on your nipple. You arch and moan loudly, your eyes clenching shut. “Oh god.”
He strips your pants and underwear from you in one movement. His hand returns to your clit though this time, his finger slides into your core, stretching your walls. A moan tumbles from your lips as he comes up to press kisses to your face. “My love,” he calls gently as you moan again, “my Y/n.” Sparks fly behind your eyes in your pleasure. Your head presses back against the pillow and you let out a particularly loud moan. Then, he rips his hand away as well as his mouth and you’re left teetering, then coming back down the way you came, unsatisfied. You let out a whine but he sits up, panting harshly, grabbing a condom from the drawer in his nightstand and settles back between your legs. He gives you another kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Your heart thrums each time you say it. Then he’s slipping inside you, stretching you until your eyes flutter closed. You’re full and you realize this is how you've always belonged, how you were always supposed to be. He thrusts slowly, lips hovering over yours or pressing all over your face, his eyes fluttering when you squeeze around him. You realize this is different from all the other partners you’ve ever been with. It feels like he fills you with life , every second he looks at you or smiles or walks into a room, he fills you with purpose.
You live for his moans, unabashed and light and airy and beautiful. It makes you lose yourself so much faster. His lithe hands clutch the bedsheets beside you, lips grazing your neck, hair tickling your face. You realize you want him all the time, near you all the time, you want this forever. You memorize everything, his touch, his scent, his features screwed up in the pleasure you give him. You’d give him anything. You memorize him until he hits a spot inside you that has your brain coming to a halt. He notices easily, lifts one of your legs to hook over his good arm, and hits it again, much more intense this time, until you're shivering and arching, your mind turning to mush. Sweet praises fall from his lips as he pushes into you. You’re perfect, you’re so beautiful, my love.
My love. 
You contract around him like a vice, burying your head in his neck, muffling the moan bordering on a scream as you come apart. He shivers as your nails dig into his back and halts his movements until your walls grant his cock mercy enough to move again. He finishes the last few thrusts until he's pressing deep inside you with a loud groan, and you vaguely think you wouldn’t mind hearing that sound forever. He collapses on top of you, panting and breathing harshly but you couldn't care less about his weight squeezing you. Your hands tiredly comb through his hair, littering kisses along his forehead while he catches his breath against your chest. Pleasure brims and hums through your body and mind as you relish the feeling of him in your arms. After a few beats, he lifts his head up just enough to kiss you. “I love you.” 
You smile, brushing back his sweaty fringes. “I love you, too.” You’re rewarded with a beautiful smile before he rests his head back on your chest. “Wait, wasn’t your shoulder hurting this entire time?” 
He makes no effort to move. “Yes, but I didn't care.” You groan and he only chuckles against your skin.  
...
You end up going a little late to work that day. Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems content enough to brush his teeth with you, shower, change into office clothes, grab breakfast and drive you to work in his car, even though you have your own parked in the garage. You’re guessing it's the inkling of domestic bliss that’s keeping a smile on his face and making him leisurely savor each mundane moment with you this morning. As for you, it’s something you never knew you needed. It’s easy to imagine a life like this and only this, with none of the complications. Taeyong looks over at you in the passenger seat with a smile, bright eyes, so many times during the drive to the office that you’re laughing. “What is it?”
He chuckles and shakes his head, turning back to the road again. “Nothing.” You let it go, but your heart flutters. Once you step through the lobby, the busy chatting stops and are replaced by jeers of welcome aimed at Taeyong after his week’s absence. Soon after, though, their curious eyes are trained on you. It’s obvious you came in the same car together and therefore probably from the same place since you usually drive yourself. If anyone had any suspicions before about you both, they definitely know for sure now. Once you and Taeyong enter the elevator, he pulls you close and kisses you once again. “I love you,” he smiles.
You laugh, adjusting his tie. “I love you too. Not tired of saying it?”
The way he looks at you, eyes half lidded, an amused smile across his lips as if you’re the most perfect thing in the world, makes you feel foolish for even asking. “No. And I never will be.”
Your heart flutters, biting back your smile. “Me neither.”
He grins this time and kisses your forehead. Then, he deflates a little. “I wont see you much today.” His fingers brush a lock of your hair. “But maybe by the end of the day, you can swing by my office?”
“Deal,” you agree, snaking your arms over his shoulders. “We'll go home together after?”
“Of course,” he smiles, leaning forward to kiss you one more time before the elevator doors ding open at the top floor. He grins again and pulls away. “I love you.”
You laugh. “I love you, too.” You go your separate ways. When you approach Jungwoo’s desk, he’s already smiling, face tilted and propped on his hand. 
“You’re in a good mood.” Jungwoo comments.
Your steps falter. “Ah.. I’ve uh…”
“No need to explain. Everyone saw you two come in together. The boss is practically bouncing with each step,” he smiles knowingly, turning back to his computer. “It’s good that he looks better though. Everyone was worried. Thanks for taking care of him.” He says, glancing up at you. “For all those days.”
Your cheeks burn. “How did you know-“ But Jungwoo gives you a look that makes you feel foolish for even asking. You plop down in the chair next to him, propping your bag against the desk. “Of course you know.”
“Actually, you might see more of him today. He has a client meeting at a high end club and I’m guessing he’ll take you as a date.”
“Really? Why does he need a date?”
He shrugs, crumpling up a piece of paper in his hands. “He doesn’t.” He throws it in the basket. “But he’ll ask you anyway.” He grins.
You watch him clean up his desk of unneeded and old documents. “You’re very perceptive of people aren't you?”
Jungwoo smiles. “It’s my job. I recruited you, remember? I find out things about people.” He says a matter of factly before changing the subject. “So, a newbie whose first mission is with the Boss himself. If no one was sure of your privilege, they’re sure now.”
You exhale, shrugging. “I'm pretty sure everyone is sure of it by now. I just hope I don't get attacked again.”
Jungwoo freezes then, concern flooding his eyes as he turns to face you. “I never asked, how are you feeling after that?”
You shrug. “I'm fine, I guess. I’ve dealt with worse.”
Jungwoo nods slowly. “Taeyong was angrier than I’d ever seen him. He made sure we removed that guy. But please know he was an outlier. People may not be the friendliest here but everyone’s generally happy to have you around.” He cups your hand in comfort, sincerity evident in his eyes. “I hope you always feel safe here.” He pauses to smile. “Even though we're an illegal organization.”
You wordlessly listen to Jungwoo, feeling strangely touched. Yuta never made you feel like this. “Thank you,” you say, and you mean it. 
He gives you a warm smile that makes you feel even softer. “Now come on, we have a lot of work to do today and many things to discuss.”
“Like what?”
“Like, did you sleep over at Taeyong’s last night?” He grins, leaning over in interest. You shove his arm, pulling peals of laughter from his lips. The rest of the day passes with jokes and work, with you secretly counting down the hours until you can visit Taeyong in his office. It seems as if an eternity passes until Taeyong himself is strolling onto the main floor and approaching Jungwoo’s desk. 
“Hey guys,” he greets. Jungwoo glances at him with a hint of surprise. You figure this is an unusual occurrence since Taeyong usually summons people to his office. “I was just wondering if I could borrow Y/n in my office for a second, if I’m not interrupting or anything.” Taeyong seems a bit hesitant.
Jungwoo shakes his head slowly. “You’re never interrupting anything. You're the Boss.”
Taeyong blinks. “R-Right…” he turns to you. “Is it okay with you?”
Jungwoo watches the exchange with growing interest. You try to ignore him and stand up from your seat. “Of course it is.”
“Great,” Taeyong says, before waving at Jungwoo, which you also assume to be unusual given Jungwoo’s perplexed expression “Bye, Jungwoo.”
Jungwoo waves slightly in confusion. “Bye…?” He watches until you two disappear from sight.
Taeyong curses once you’re out of earshot. The laughter you’re holding back spills from your lips. “What was that?”
He slows enough to allow you to fall in line with his walking. “I have no idea. I just.. felt weird beckoning you to my office chamber as if you’re my maid or something.” He shakes his head. “God, Jungwoo’s going to think something is wrong with me.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” you reply, biting back a smile. So, he feels weird about you calling him Boss and also about ordering you around. It’s strangely sweet in its own way, how a man with all the power at his hands refuses to see you as anything but his equal. 
He drags open one massive door to his office and ushers you inside. Once you’re in, he shuts the door, pulls you to his chest and kisses you. “Mmm what are these for?” You ask when his long kiss dissolves into small short sweet ones littered on your lips. 
“I just missed you all day. And missed kissing you all day.” You giggle as he turns to littering kisses over your face. Your hand wraps around his tie and tugs him to you abruptly so that he can kiss you properly on the lips. He makes a soft noise that travels like electricity through your body. The kiss turns deep once again, your hands coming up to comb through his soft hair. When you pull away, your breaths are shallow and his gaze is intense. “Believe it or not, I actually have work for us to do.”
You chuckle. “Jungwoo told me. We’re going to some high end club? 
He takes a moment to gather himself before pulling away from you. “Yes, just to visit a client we’re sorting out a contract with.” 
Your nerves twist in your stomach. You remember the last meeting with a client ended in a gunfight. Your eyes settle on his shoulder, where you can still see the bandage underneath his office shirt. “Are you sure?”
He glances at you and sees the concern in your eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be safe,” he smiles reassuringly. “To be honest, I still don’t know why I was targeted that day and by whom. I’ve ordered everyone to track them down, but we haven't found any clues.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s probably a rival gang that somehow got our info.”
Your blood turns to ice. You haven’t even told him about what happened that day, about where you’re from and the truth about why you’re here. You can sell out Yuta right now. You can give Taeyong all the information and help him take down your former leader. But the words fail you and you realize that you can’t. You’ve spent a decade working under Yuta, longer than you’ve even known Taeyong. As much as you hate it, your loyalty to Yuta are your chains. You can’t rat him out. And worse, even if you do, what if Taeyong hates you? What if he sends you away and never wants to see you again? What if you have to return to Yuta? Return to a cold, meaningless life full of violence and crime, devoid of sunshine and sleepy smiles and slow mornings.
You swallow back any words and stay silent. You feel awful. You’re a liar. You never want to lie to Taeyong, ever. But you’re a coward and you don’t know what to do. Even if he doesn’t know now, he will find out the truth eventually and hate you then. Taeyong seems to notice your intense conflict and mistakes it for concern. He steps towards you, a soft smile finding his lips that nearly makes the terrible thoughts melt away. “I know you feel bad, but it's not your fault that I was injured,” he takes your hand gently in his. “Besides, I don't think any sniper will be able to find me at a strip club.”
Your whirling thoughts pause momentarily. “We’re going to a strip club?”
“It’s technically a gentleman’s club. It’s just a meeting with an old client. She runs the whole place and makes quite a lot of money from it. She wants us to protect her territory. A lot of members of the criminal underground frequent there and have been stepping out of line and making her workers uncomfortable. The security they have there doesn't intimidate these kinds of men enough. She wants mob protection, so these criminals will feel less inclined to do whatever they want.” 
You nod. “It’s an honorable cause. But if you’ve met her before, why am I coming?”
His eyes slide away from yours in embarrassment. “Because.. I’m uh… they like me over there,” he flushes a light pink, “I’ve gotten.. too much attention when I went alone in the past. I might as well show them that I'm taken.”
The image of women and probably men hanging over Taeyong as he talks business, flirting with him, their fingernails running down his chest, makes your insides twist in jealousy. Yes, you figure, you should be there. “Yes, you are taken.” You grip his tie and watch his eyes flare. You chuckle and mentally note his reaction. “So, this is our first date?”
He snorts. “At a strip club? No way. I'll plan a much better one than that.”
“I thought you said it’s a gentleman’s club.”
He laughs. “Come on, let’s head out. We’ll have to dress up a little.” You both stop by your apartment to pick up some fancy clothes and make up before driving over to his place to get ready. By time you change, style your hair, apply makeup and jewelry, the sun sets and the evening sky’s moonlight glows through the windows. When you walk into the living room and find Taeyong in a tuxedo, silver cuffs, and his hair neatly combed back, your heart nearly stops in your chest. He has a similar reaction when he spots you. “Wow.” He stares breathlessly for a moment before blinking back to reality. “Oh no, maybe I should go alone. This isn't a good idea.”
“What? Why?”
His eyes run over you once again. “Because you’re beautiful. Too beautiful. There's going to be too many sleazy criminals there. They’re already harassing the workers. They’re not going to leave you alone.”
“I’ll be fine. I can handle myself. Besides, do you think I’m the only one who looks good? I’m not letting you go there alone looking like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re too beautiful too,” you echo his words, watching him flush. Then, because you’re feeling playful and curious, you decide to push further. “And because you’re mine.” His eyes flare. You see him swallow imperceptibly. You don't know why it feels good to see him like this, but you want to do it some more. “They’ll keep away if they know what's good for them.”
His breath catches in his throat. He swallows again and seems to blink himself back to reality. “F…fine, then. Just tell anyone who asks that you’re with me and I'll say that I'm with you.”
“Tell them that I'm yours and you’re mine. Understood,” you grin.
“Ah… right,” he mumbles, unable to find a suitable reply. A pretty blush spreads across his cheeks as his eyes slide away from yours. It never fails to satisfy you. He pauses, then gently cups your face and brings you close to kiss you. He pulls away and gives you a warm smile. “Okay, let's go."
...
You know that gentleman’s clubs are just higher end strip clubs, but this one is so far beyond anything you've seen before. As you walk in, you’re hit with the sight of patrons dressed in black tie, waiters carrying flat dishes holding unknown colorful alcoholic drinks, curved leather booths scattered throughout the space, crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. “I can see how this owner can afford us,” you mutter. Your arm is looped through Taeyong’s as he guides you through the area and towards the back rooms. You pass by people chatting, drinking, smoking, and eventually spot the main stage. Some dancers are already there, dressed in sparkly two pieces. 
Some of the girls passing by to get to the stage notice Taeyong and smile brightly at him. Some  touch his shoulders and arms, bat their eyelashes, give cherry lipped smiles, even though you’re quite literally hanging off his arm. You suppose your presence here doesn’t spurn any of them in the slightest. Taeyong guides you into one back room that looks like a luxurious private meeting room of sorts. An older woman adorned in jewels and a shimmering gown is seated upon an expensive looking armchair with a lit cigarette between her painted nails. A few girls stand or are seated around her. They smile and greet Taeyong when he walks in but their friendly gazes turn to questioning glares when they fall on you. It seems as if the air itself stops when you walk through the door. 
“Who is she?” the older woman asks, voice raspy probably from years of cigarette smoke. 
“She’s my date,” Taeyong answers easily.
They all eye you suspiciously. “This is the first girl you’ve brought in as a date. How long has she worked for you?”
“How is that relevant?” Taeyong counters.
The woman ignores him and glares at you. “How long, girl?”
“…A few weeks.”
Murmurs start from the girls. The older lady laughs and takes a drag from her cigarette. “And you let her in this high up already, working by your side? Ever the softie you are,” she notes. Taeyong flushes slightly. “You’re not worried she’s a spy?”
Your heart jumps. Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Of course not. And I’ve known her much longer than a few weeks. We just.. were separated for a long time.”
Her eyes narrow a bit. “That’s even more dangerous.” Her lips blow a puff of smoke. “She’s not allowed in here. That’s final.” 
Taeyong growls. “Listen, Mabel, we have a contract to sign.”
“Yes, with very sensitive content. Which unauthorized people should not be allowed to listen in on.” Her eyes coldly drag down your frame. “No matter how pretty.”
Taeyong looks like he’s about to argue but you stop him with a hand to his shoulder. “It’s fine,” you say, not wanting to complicate things. “I’ll wait outside.”
He glances at you, brows knitted. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes. It’s no big deal.” You give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and step out the door. You hear a muffled sentence from Mabel of she’s got you bad, huh? through the door before you’re walking into the buzzing scene before you.You decide to sit at the bar because you need to be alone. Mabel’s words have triggered you. You feel awful, guilty, and disgusted. You have to tell him the truth, even if he hates you forever. But what if he doesn't hate you? What if he understands, forgives, and then wants you to help him take down Yuta? You pause. How can you take down Yuta?  You spent a decade under him, working for him, being with him through good and bad times. You can't just turn against him completely. You feel stuck. You seem to always feel stuck these days and it’s making you miserable. 
“Why the long face?” You hear a rich voice behind you. It rips you from your internal monologue. It’s a tall man with dark hair, twinkling eyes and a colorful suit. He sticks out easily among the crowd. You notice he already has a drink in hand.
“Ah.. just a bad day.” You say a bit dismissively, looking back down at your drink, hoping he’ll get the message and disappear. He doesn’t.
He nods in understanding and slides into the stool beside yours. “I’m Johnny. You Yong’s girl? I saw you come in with him.”
“Uh.. Yes.”
He nods, taking a sip from his glass. “He’s never brought anyone with him here before.”
You eye him. “Do you work here?”
“Nope. I’m from my own..um… group.” He smiles. “I come here sometimes as a patron.” Right, you think, Taeyong did mention that members of other criminal groups hung out around here. It’s the reason why the owner needs protection in the first place. Johnny bumps you slightly with his elbow. “So, why are you so sad? Is he not treating you well?” He smiles easily. “You can come to our side, you know, and work as a spy. You have the look. A beautiful woman with eyes like yours, who wouldn’t believe every word that comes from your lips?” Johnny smiles into his glass. “Best part is Taeyong doesn’t have to know.”
He’s joking, but you know it's the way deals are made underground. The thought of taking him up on his makes bile rise in your throat. “No.. I don’t…” you blanch. 
He notices the look on your face. “Too loyal?” he nods in understanding. “It’s not for everyone.” he glances at you. “But you never know.” He raises a hand to touch your chin. Your reflexes get the better of you and you grip his wrist before he can touch you. 
“Y/n,” Taeyong’s voice cuts through the air, catching both you and Johnny in surprise. He’s fuming. Similar to the time when the man jumped you in the office, his expression is hard and unmerciful. “Is he bothering you?” His eyes slide to Johnny who releases a breathy chuckle and turns back to sipping his drink.
“I was actually just leaving.” You slide out from the seat and walk past Taeyong who gives Johnny a lingering hard glare before following you out the door.
Once you’re seated in his car, Taeyong grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “What the hell was he doing? I knew I never liked him for a reason.”
“He’s from another organization?” You ask.
“It's a smaller one. It operates at the outskirts of the city. They’re one of the… less moral organizations that others need protection from. They’re a thorn in our side but nothing we can’t handle.” He glances over at you, concern replacing his irritation. “Are you okay? You look.. sick.”
You shake your head. “It’s nothing I… just…” you exhale tiredly. “It’s nothing.”
His worried eyes scan your face. “Is it because of what Mabel said? Don’t listen to her. I trust you with everything I have.” You gaze at him, speechless. His words make you feel infinitely worse after the night you’ve had.
When you return to his apartment, you change out of your dress like you can’t wait to get it off. Then, you mindlessly set to packing up the things you’ve left at Taeyong’s place while staying over the past few days. Taeyong watches you wordlessly, still in his suit, looking as if he’s about to say something, then changes his mind. The cycle repeats until he works up the courage. “Did you…want to stay over tonight too?”
You glance at him and try not to chuckle at his puppy face. “I would, but I have to go home and take out the trash and do the dishes and .. get new clothes,” you sigh, walking over to him. “But I’ll come visit later, okay?” Your fingers take to combing through his hair, coaxing a sigh from his lips.
“What if you moved in with me?” He says it so easily, lost in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. Your fingers pause and his words hang in the air. At your silence, his eyes fly open in panic. “Is that too soon? Of course it is. Fuck, forget I said anything.”
He so visibly retracts in on himself that you’re scrambling to reassure him. “No, no, I’m just… surprised is all.” 
He sighs almost helplessly, brows pinching in frustration. “I just see you here and .. when we spend time together, I..I want it… all the time… and nothing else,” he says heavily, grasping your hand and holding it up to his chest. His dark maroon eyes are large and heartfelt. “Sometimes I wish I just had a simple life. No mobs, no criminals, no territories or fighting. Just you and me in a house, living peacefully.”
Your eyes burn, pricking with tears. “Me too,” you whisper, unable to convey just how badly you’ve dreamt of the same dream for so long. “Me too.”
His expression is almost as if he’s witnessed a small miracle. He pulls you into the tightest hug, as if he can’t hold you close enough. You breathe him and relish the weight of his head tucked against yours, the smell of his lingering cologne and the comfort of his arms. “We can talk about it later,” he mumbles into your neck. “Can you stay over tonight, please?”
You forget about packing. “Of course.”
...
The next day when you come into work, you spot Jungwoo sporting a new type of pistol that spikes your curiosity. You ask him to show you the features and end up seated, facing him with the gun in your hands. Jungwoo’s fingers slide against your own as he guides yours to the grip and the trigger. "The safety lock is actually here," Jungwoo points out, turning over the unfamiliar silver pistol in your hands before guiding your finger to the small button. You test the weight of the gun with both of Jungwoo’s hands cupping yours. "It's comfortable, isn't it?" He offers with warm eyes. "Yeah, it is,” you say incredulously. “I haven’t seen-” "Jungwoo." A serious voice cuts through the atmosphere. Both of you stiffen and spot Taeyong, arms crossed with hard eyes, taking in the scene before him. "Don't you have something to turn in for me?” Jungwoo releases your hands as if they were burning hot coals. "Yes, sorry Boss. I was just taking a break and showing Y/n my new gun." "Well, get on it.” His usual soft voice is hard. Jungwoo’s face drops. Taeyong’s eyes slide to you. “Y/n, can I see you in my office?” He doesn’t wait for you as he begins walking back. You and Jungwoo exchange bewildered glances as you stand to follow him. Once you step into his office, you notice that Taeyong doesn’t greet you. He leans over his desk, his hands gripping the wooden edges. “Did you.. need me for something?” You ask, perplexed by his demeanor. 
He straightens up, running his hand through his hair. “No,” he sighs, turning to glance at you. “You… you ah… you and Jungwoo…” he trails off, averting his eyes. He huffs. “You and Jungwoo…spend a lot of time together.”
You try not to laugh. “Yes, you assigned us to work together. On everything. Don’t you remember?” 
He only grumbles, rubbing his forehead. “Right.”
“Are you alright?” You test carefully.
“I’m fine,” he says curtly, turning his back to you once again to walk towards his desk. You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn't. 
“Well… if you are, could you apologize to Jungwoo later? It was kind of rude.” He glances at you and then exhales, plopping into this arm chair. He tries to speak but struggles, then seems to give up and glare at his tie. “Hey,” you say gently, following his path around the desk until you’re standing by his chair. “Tell me what’s wrong.” You touch his chin, then run your fingers through his hair that has his shoulders slumping with stress seeping out.
"I'm sorry,” he sighs, the hardness in his voice gone. “It’s just, the past few days.. with you finally being mine after so many years… but then stupid Johnny at the club was with you and then Jungwoo was holding your hands and… I just got jealous. It's silly, I know. You love me. There's no doubt about that." He mumbles, sighing. “I can’t help it.”
“Oh,” your brain processes his words. “You were jealous?”
"What else was I supposed to be?" He now lifts his face to look up at you directly. "I think of you in every moment, in every breath I take, even in every dream I have at night. And then I see you with Jungwoo.. or someone else.. and I get jealous of them, for being in your presence. Because sometimes, they’re the ones that have your eyes… or hands on them. Not me.”
You chuckle. “Even though I have my eyes on you ninety nine percent the rest of the time?”
“Only ninety nine percent?” he laughs, his smile finally appearing. “I want the full one hundred.” He twists his chair a little to bury his head in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want, Y/n. Anything in this world.”
You sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I know.” He doesn’t respond and seems deflated so you try to reassure him. “I get jealous too.”
He lifts his head to look at you. "Really? I never noticed." 
“I don’t tell you.”
He suddenly sounds curious. "Jealous of whom?"
Your cheeks burn and you look away. “I don’t know. When the women were all over you at that same club the other day. When I hear you haven't been alone all these years, that you loved someone else. It.. makes me jealous.”
Taeyong’s eyes seem to kindle with light. He stands up slowly until he’s slightly towering over you. "So.. you're jealous of my attention too.” His eyes darken only slightly, but the air shifts. "Would you prefer that I give you one hundred percent as well so that I only ever pay attention to you?”
You feel flustered at your vulnerability but provide your answer without breaking eye contact. “Yes.” 
He falls silent then. The air is still around you, growing heated as you gaze at each other, wordlessly. "What would you do if they were here right now?” His voice is low, raspier than before.
You know he wouldn’t engage; has no interest in anyone else but you, but from every previous interaction with him, you know by now he’s very into you being possessive. So, you decide to indulge him and playfully growl. You lean over and kiss his pulse point. He swallows hard. “I’d wring them away from you.” 
Your words work on him. He shivers in your arms. "What else?” he asks, his voice slightly more gravelly in your ear.
You think. “I’d also push you against the nearest wall and kiss you until you’re panting, making sure they watch.”
He grows still. “Really?” You nod. It looks like it’s the right answer. He abruptly pulls away from you with a determined look on his face. "Good. I need you. Right now. Let's.. let's go to the closest wall we can find."
You laugh out loud, following along as he pulls you away from his desk. “Which wall?" He tugs you towards one end of the room, coaxing another laugh from you.
“There is no one to watch here. Should I just kiss you against a wall?”
"Yes. Yes, that's the idea," His voice turns rough once again. He pulls you to the wall nearest his desk and turns around to face you. "Show me, love." he orders, his eyes dark with his fringes falling into them. Your throat grows tight, all your previous laughter disappearing. He leans close to you again, hand wrapping around your wrist so that you can’t back away. "I want you to show me how jealous you can get. Right now." He growls lowly. You swallow thickly, and force your limbs to move. You raise your hands, his loosening from your wrist, and press against his chest. He doesn’t break eye contact as you push him against the wall. He gasps a little when he hits the surface, eyes darkening again. You press forward to kiss him harshly. He moans as he kisses you back just as aggressively. “Yes,” he breathes shakily between kisses. “You’re so good.”
Your mouths push and pull like tides as you keep up the show. “You like this? Being shown who you belong to?”
He’s gasping between kisses, all your words exciting him further. "Oh.. god yes, I do." he breathes out. "I love it.. I love knowing that I’m yours.” He lets out a small moan. "You'll make sure that no one will steal me away from you, right?"
You kiss down his neck, nipping the skin slightly, causing him to tremble in your arms. “Yes. No one can take you from me. You’re mine.” You say the words you think will affect him most and you’re right. A pretty blush settles on his cheeks and he moans softly at your kisses. 
"Yes... no one will take me away from you because you're mine, and I'm yours,” he breathes, eyes lidded.
“Yes,” you soften, littering kisses down his jaw. “You’re mine and I’m yours.” He shivers when you undo his buttons to litter more kisses along his collarbone. You subconsciously press closer to him and feel his hardness graze your thigh. “You’re this worked up? From just my words?” You ask fondly, nipping his chest. His eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, hair falling into them.
“F-From you. I’m worked up from you,” he mumbles.
It’s endearing. You comb this hair back from his face and kiss him. “Well, it would be unfair to let you go home like this.”
His eyes seem to focus on you in confusion before you press your palm against the bulge in his slacks. He shivers against you. “Y/n-“ You press until he bites his lip. Your nimble fingers unzip his pants and slide in past the hem of his boxers to grip him. He gasps, eyes flying open. “Oh god,” he moans. You keep a tight grip as you stroke him, watching his head fall back against the wall, jaw working open. You lean forward to kiss his neck.
“Good?”
“Good… so good,” he nods. You struggle to work him with the small space you have in his boxers but he moans so beautifully even with what little you do. “Y/n,” his eyes open, half lidded, shallow breaths. You pause to look at him. “I love you.”
You soften, push forward to kiss him gently, chastely, so at odds with your hand still stroking him. “I love you too, so much.” You squeeze him gently and he gasps, breaking away from your kiss and arches against the wall, moaning, and you know you have to hear more. With a final kiss to the hollow of his throat, you drop to your knees. He gazes down at you, eyes going wide, then jaw clenching, arousal seeping into his face. You grip his pants and boxers slide them down a bit along his hips until his length is free for your undivided attention. The sight of it completely hard has arousal surging through you but a brush of his hand to your cheek breaks your focus.
He’s gazing down at you softly, arousal drenched on his face but tended by loving concern. “Are you sure?”
You take his hand by your cheek and kiss it firmly, smiling up at him. “More sure than anything.” Then he hisses as you stroke him, hard in your grip. You budge closer until your lips are right by his length and gaze at him with dark eyes. “I want you to know what I do for you and nobody else.”
All softness drains from his face and his eyes grow ravenous. He gives you a nod and you take him into your mouth. His head hits the wall, body trembling a little as your mouth engulfs him. You drag back and come forward, tongue swirling against him, slowly setting a rhythm that has you humming. His breaths grow harsh and shaky quickly, his hands combing through your hair. You relish the feeling of him, the weight of him in your throat. You want to hear him moan but one glance tells you he seems to be holding back. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes clenched shut in concentration, hand gripping your hair gently. You decide to pick up your pace and he curses, biting his lip hard. Your shallow sucks grow deeper and his length goes in further along your throat. He trembles and a low groan finally loosens from his lips. You yourself nearly moan at the sound and take him even deeper, until he hits the back of your throat. His eyes fly open and he attempts to pull back his hips, tugging you by your hair back a little to get you to slow down. “Y/n… I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
You ignore him, grab his hips and shove him back into your mouth. He harshly gasps out your name and it’s everything you wanted to hear. You gaze up at him, tearing yourself from his length with great self control. “I’m in control right now, aren't I?”
He shivers at your authoritative tone and surrenders. “Yes, ma’am.”
Your stomach burns at the title and you quickly set back to work, taking him deep in your mouth. This time, he moans freely, his hand back in your hair. His soft caresses of your hair become tight, his finger curling around the strands absently as his face screws up in pleasure. Soon, he’s subconsciously guiding your head in your movements as his hips push forward to meet your mouth. It makes his length go even deeper in your throat until you have to focus more not to gag. His free moans are music to your ears, his head is tilted back against the wall, eyes clenched closed. With one particular stroke, you feel him pulse in your mouth. Then, his eyes are flying open and he tugs you off of him roughly by your hair. The sensation sparks pain and pleasure through you, coaxing a noise from your lips, which he seems to notice. He pants harshly, eyes lidded, as you gaze up at him in confusion. “I’m… too close,”. He struggles to find his composure. “I .. don't want to lose myself in your mouth.”
“Where then?” You tease as he helps you stand up. His eyes darken. 
“You’ll see.” Your breath catches as he steps forward, backing you towards his desk. “I think it’s my turn to show you how possessive I get.” His lips crash into yours and it's rough, rougher than he’s ever kissed you. You gasp as his hands grip your cheeks and hair hard, pressing you insistently against him. You feel heat pool quickly in your lower abdomen. He walks you backwards, kissing you hard until your back hits the edge of his desk and he’s towering over you. His dilated umber eyes hold you captive, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, lips parted with shallow breaths. 
“Sit.” He directs you. You obey, lifting yourself on your tiptoes and then seating yourself on the wooden edge. Then, he kneels, and it’s so graceful and how he does so, but your throat goes painfully dry. He takes one of your legs in his hand and kisses your ankle, still strapped in by your formal shoe. He lifts it so it slides over his shoulder and does the same with the other. 
He gazes up at you, brows low, gaze dark and you swear you’ve never been so turned on. He grips the hem of your skirt and slides it up to reveal your thighs. He comes closer to kiss the revealed skin, never breaking eye contact with you, his gaze searing into yours. Your gut is a mess of fire and butterflies, twisting and flipping and grappling for sanity while your mind wonders where did that young shy boy that you knew all this time go? 
“Y/n,” he groans, sliding your skirt up all the way until the front is bunched around your hips. It's when his hands grip the hem of your panties does electricity strike your senses. He gazes at you as if asking for permission and you lift yourself up slightly in response.
He smirks and slides your panties down your legs, past your socks and over your heels before tossing them somewhere neither of you bother to remember. He settles back close between your legs and the image of him gazing up at you on his knees sears itself in your brain. Then, he leans forward and licks a stripe along your core that has you gasping and clutching his shoulder. He smiles and presses his hand against your stomach, hinting at you lie back against his desk. You shiver and obey and it's not even until your head hits the wood does he lick another long, broad stripe that has you arching.
“Shit,” you gasp, clutching the edge of his desk. You feel him grin between your legs before his fingers slide inside you. Your eyes clench shut, mouth falling open as the burning stretch gives away to pleasure. He pumps his fingers leisurely into you, making your toes curl in your shoes. He licks your clit at the same time, causing a long moan and a jerk for your hips. You vaguely wonder when was the last time you’ve been pleasured like this. 
He pushes his fingers deeper and curls them deep inside that has you letting out a long moan of his name. He groans at that and retracts his fingers, leaving you empty. “Look at me,” he says raspily into your skin. “I want you to look at me.” You lift your head up a small ways to see him between your legs, his dark eyes glaring at you, his nimble hands hooking around both of your thighs. Then, he slides his tongue inside his tongue inside, hot and thick. You let out a high pitched moan, hand coming down to tangle in his hair as you arch up. “Oh god,” you clench around his tongue as he goes deeper. He groans in satisfaction and you can feel it reverberate through your body. Sparks of pleasure fly in your vision. His tongue twists and moves and flicks inside you, turning your limbs and mind to jelly. Your head hits the back of his desk as you arch again and suddenly you feel his nails digging painfully into your thighs. You lift your head up to glance back down at him and he gives you a pointed gaze. Right, keep your eyes on him.
He continues his ministrations, leaving you arching and moaning and whimpering all while struggling to keep eye contact. He doesn’t let up once, not even when you accidentally tug his hair too hard, which earns a hiss and then a moan. He continues, tongue sinful sliding deep inside you before moving to wrap his lips around your clit and suck hard. That has you gasping, moaning, hand tightening in his hair as your face screws up in pleasure. He watches every single facial expression carefully while working you all the while. He slides fingers inside while suckling your clit and when he curls them once again deep inside you, you fall apart.
‘Oh god, oh god,” you moan out as you hurdle towards your end. He groans when he feels you coming, and redoubles his efforts so that you have to cover your mouth when you scream. You fall back against the mercilessly hard wood as the  purest bliss washes over you. You arch and moaning and shake around his tongue until he groans into your core, tongue lapping up everything you have to give him. He leaves you then, granting you enough mercy to come back to reality and your body with all the energy sapped out of you. 
He’s suddenly near you, bending over and pressing his body against your weary one to kiss your forehead. Hand comes to comb through your hair gently as you regain your composure.
You open his eyes to see him smiling softly down at you. “Good?” You nod breathlessly. He smiles proudly. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.” 
Your words catch in your throat as he guides you to sit up against the desk once again. He stands before you, towering, his hair even messier now thanks to you, and a slight shine to his lips where he didnt wipe you off completely. He cups your cheeks reverently and bends down to kiss you. It’s loving and passionate and you find yourself melting against him one again. His hand runs through your hair before he tangles it in a few strands in the back of your head and tugs firmly. You gasp harshly, breaking away from the kiss as your head is forced back a little. He examines you briefly before he tugs again experimentally. You moan this time, eyes fluttering and pleasure buzzing through your body. He drinks in your reaction like it's an elixir of gold. “Just as I thought,” he mumbles before gently combing through your hair again. “I can’t believe I do this to you. The effect I have on you,” he says reverently, watching your hair slip from his fingers. 
You catch your breath. “You have every effect on me.”
He gazes at you intently before leaning over and gives you another kiss. Then, he helps you off his desk until you're standing on your slightly unreliable, still shaky legs. He steadies you with his grip on your hips. He presses his lips to your temple and eyes his desk behind you. “You know… I dreamed of having you here.” His eyes are dark again, pupils blown wide, voice raspy. “Some days, it distracts me so much that I can’t do any work sitting here,” his eyes flit across the wood. “I’ve wanted it for so long.”
“For how long?” You ask. 
“Since the day you walked into this building,” he laughs, nudging your nose with his. “You were so beautiful,” he sighs, settling his forehead on yours. “And the first time we drank wine here and I almost kissed you? After that, god, those thoughts would not leave me.”
“What…” you swallow, “what thoughts?”
His eyes darken. “Of you bent over my desk, moaning and whimpering as I fuck you.” Excitement buzzes throughout your body, arousal seeping through you once again, so embarrassingly quickly after your release. Taeyong cups your jaw, his thumb resting on your lip. his stare is dark, unwavering. “What do you say, my love?”  
You swallow hard. “We should make those thoughts reality.”
His eyes darken impossibly more. “You sure?”
“Please.” His eyes darken again, growling as he kisses you hard. Then, he turns you around, pressing your stomach into the edge of the desk and drags his hands down your body. He presses and kneads your clothes breasts, his hard length pressing into your ass as he kisses down your neck. You moan and arch against him. “Bend over,” he instructs. A wave of arousal hits you hard as you do his bidding. Once you’re bent over with your forearms resting against the wood, Taeyong flips over your skirt. You hear him groan, probably at how unbelievably sopping wet you are by now, especially from having come once already. Then his hard length is sliding into you and all thoughts grind to a halt. Both your moans synchronize as he slowly thrusts into you, mumbling praises while you fight to stay sane. You are still so sensitive and the lazy drag of his length against your walls compounds your pleasure. He eventually picks up speed, sending pleasure coursing through you with each stroke. One hand tangles in your hair, and you feel him press down against your back until his lips are by  your ear. “God, I love your hair.” He gives a firm tug so your head is pulled back against his neck, coaxing a shaky moan from your lips. He groans and sinks his teeth into your neck. You gasp at the sharp pain mixed by the pleasure brought from his hips. 
“Oh,” you gasp out as his hips speed up, his hand still in your hair, his teeth by your neck. It all sends your mind spiraling. He moans into your ear, whispering praises on how good you feel, how long he's waited for you, how much he loves you. Then, his other hand comes up to grip your throat and suddenly, you’re whimpering.
“Is this okay?” He whispers lowly in your ear, his hips not faltering in their brisk pace. 
“Yes yes yes,” you manage out, relishing the pressure on your throat. You want to feel him everywhere, in any form, as much as you can while he takes you for himself. 
He chuckles. “Good girl.”  You moan and clench so hard his thrusts stutter and he gasps into your ear. “God, Y/n….You like that dont you?” You moan in response and he chuckles, resuming his thrusts. He kisses down your ear and your neck. “My good girl, my sweet girl.”
You gasp, feeling yourself clench even tighter at his praise, pulling more moans from his lips. You push your hips back to meet his thrusts and he groans.
“Say my name, Y/n,” he orders, hand slightly tightening around your throat. 
You mentally scramble to remember words. “Ah, Taeyong.”
He groans lowly, possessively, his thrusts turning rougher, making you cry out. “Say.. say you love me,” his voice is a bit softer this time but still demanding. 
“Hah.. I love you,” you manage out, fingers scratching the wood for leverage. 
He releases a harsh breath against your ear. “Again.” 
“I love you,” you gasp, eyes clenching shut at his harsh pace. 
He moans, gently kissing the side of your face that he can reach from behind you, so at odds with the rough thrusts that are making you shiver. “Again, love.”
“I love you,” you cry out. He growls as his thrusts grow faster and the grip on your throat grows tighter, pulling whimpers and incoherent mumbles from your lips. His other hand untangles from your hair and reaches down to rub your clit.
“Ah!” your yelp echoes through the office. The hand clutching your throat slides up to clamp around your mouth. 
“Careful, I may have a big office but they can still hear you from outside,” he warns, voice strained in pleasure as his lips brush your cheek. “And I wouldn’t mind all of them hearing you. But I think you’d be very embarrassed walking past them into the office after this.” 
You breathe harshly against his hand, and pressing it against your mouth to signal him to keep it there because you know you’ll definitely not be quiet. He growls, his thrusts growing harsher now that your moans won't reveal you. His fingers resume drawing circles on your clit that has your whimpers coming out muffled against his hand. Your legs are shaking again, mind numb, moaning incoherently into his hand clamped around your mouth. He lets you sink flat onto the desk when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, the coolness of the wood offering some relief to your flushed face. He fucks you until his breaths grow harsher his moans louder before he drapes himself over you. 
“You’re mine,” he growls into your ear. He hits a spot deep, deep inside you that has you careening. Combined with his words and his finger on your clit, you lose yourself into pleasure for the second time. The world washes in white as you come, gasping harshly into his hand and dragging nails down his desk, walls squeezing him mercilessly. “Y/n,” he moans, desperate, thrusting into you until he strains and stills suddenly. With another moan of your name, his warmth spills inside you. He lets out a long groan as he shakes before collapsing on top of you.
Both of you fight to catch your breath. After a few minutes, it seems to take all of Taeyong’s energy to drag himself off of you and collapse into the armchair nearby. You’re still gasping over his desk, not trusting your legs to support you if you stand. “Oh my god.”
He chuckles, hand combing through his hair. “Did I get carried away?” 
Pleasure is still thrumming across your body, through every inch of every nerve. “Please.. get carried away more often.” He laughs out loud. You push yourself off the desk and shakily stand up. 
“Come on, let's get cleaned up,” Taeyong says, tangling his fingers with yours. “I have more things for you in mind at home.” 
Your stomach flips. “Still haven’t gotten it out of your system?”
“Nope.” 
At home, he gives you so many hickeys that you have to wear a high neck shirt and a scarf when you go to work the next day. When you meet Jungwoo, he only quirks a brow.
“What?” You ask. 
“Nothing,” he smiles knowingly. “I’m guessing it's going well with the boss?” You flush under your scarf. “He apologized to me, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have something to do with that, do you?”
“Uh,” your voice comes out high pitched. “Nope no, uh.. he just feels bad.”
He smiles, eyes narrowing. “Does it have anything to do with the scarf you’re wearing in June?“
“Don’t you have work to do?” You snap. He only chuckles and turns back to his computer.
...
Several pass with this routine of work and then staying over at Taeyong’s place some days of the week. The days you do, you wake up from restful slumber with his arms around your waist, his sleepy mumbled protests when you try to leave his arms, even for the bathroom. On the weekends, you spend time making breakfast and sharing kisses and watching funny movies and cleaning his apartment. It’s domestic bliss and you wish it lasted forever.The days when you don’t stay over, you stare at the emptiness of your apartment and wonder if you should just move in with him. You would have said yes already had you not felt so guilty for lying to his face everyday. You can’t even imagine taking that step when he still doesn't know the full truth and how you’ve betrayed him. Judging from his sad expressions any time you pack up and head back to your apartment, you can tell that he wants to ask you to stay for good, to move in, but he hasn’t mentioned the idea after the first time he brought it up.
Apart from this, life is routine for a while. Soon after, however, strange things begin to happen. A few of the lower ranked members get ambushed while running some operations in the city. The following week, a shipment was stolen. A few days later, some high profile clients suddenly decide not to work with the group anymore. And, the worst of all, somebody shoots at Jungwoo on his way to work. Yesterday, Taeyong told you that someone was following his car while heading home. He managed to lose them before they discovered where he lives.
“It’s bewildering,” he said in his office, brows pinched in concern. “No one has ever attacked us like this before. We are the most powerful criminal organization in the city with the highest security. Who could suddenly have access to all our details and carry out attacks like this?”
Today, your stomach churns with dread as you drive home. You remember how shaken everyone was, including Taeyong, and you hope to god it isn’t what you’re thinking. As soon as you step into your apartment, you spot a letter on the floor by the entryway.  Someone must have slid it under the door.  Come back or we kill him. You have one week. -Y.
The note shakes slightly in your hands. You read the words over and over until they’re seared into your memory. Then you push down the overwhelming sensation of dread swelling up inside you. Your suspicions are confirmed - Yuta’s behind everything. And now he’s exploiting your weakness for Taeyong so that you’ll be forced to come back to him. You don't know how he got access to so much classified information to do as much damage as he did. He seems to be everywhere, attacking everyone at once, out of fury. You wonder if it’s because of you. Either way, it’s only a matter of time before they kill Taeyong. 
Still shaking, you crumple up the note and slam it into the trash can. You feel the sting of tears in your eyes and shut the door to your room, collapsing onto your bed. You won’t be able to sleep tonight. You make up your mind about at least one thing, though. Taeyong won’t get hurt again because of you. 
...
The next day, you don’t bother checking in with Jungwoo and drag your feet to Taeyong’s office. He stands at his desk, organizing files and smiles at you brightly when you enter the room. Then, he registers the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?” His brows furrow.
You steel yourself with a shaky breath. “I’m leaving.”
His face falls, hands dropping the files onto the desk. “What?”
And suddenly, you can’t hold back your tears. “I’m leaving. I have to leave.”
He registers your tears, realizes you’re crying for the first time in front of him, and swiftly walks over to you. His arms pull you into a hug, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Why? Why are you crying?” Concern heavily laces his voice. 
“All these attacks that are happening.. you being followed… it’s all because of me,” you manage out against his chest.
His arms tighten around you, his breath stuttering. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”
You sniff and pull back, taking in his concerned face. It’s likely the last time you’ll see it when he still has love for you, before you tell him the truth. “I was sent by another organization as a spy.” It’s like slow motion, the way his face drains of all emotion and grows hard and shaken. His arms retract away from you as if you’re poison. He steps back suddenly, far out of your proximity and your heart shatters. “I know. I’m a traitor,” you say shakily, staring at the ground so you don’t have to look at that heartbreaking face. “You have every right to be angry.” Tears fill your eyes, emotion choking your words. “But I had no chance with you. I knew even before he sent me here that I’d fall in love with you and I told him as much.” 
Taeyong makes no further movements to step close to you. His voice is cold when he speaks. “Who sent you?”
You exhale. “Yuta.” His expression hardens. He knows him. You’re not surprised. Yuta’s mob is second only to Taeyong’s in the city. “He sent me here to gain intel because he knew we were close. He…he knew you would trust me and keep me close despite being a new recruit,” you say wearily. “I told him I didn’t want to but he forced me. It…it was so hard being here, seeing you, lying to you and everyone, you have no idea.” Tears fill your eyes as you chance a glance at him. Taeyong’s face is carefully neutral but his eyes betray him. They are filled with unspeakable hurt. Your heart lurches.
“I gave him some intel about that shipment drop off at the hotel. Then, you got shot. That was because of me.” Taeyong inhales sharply, you can see in his eyes that you’ve shattered his heart further. You feel nauseous. “I didn’t know it would get you hurt. When I saw you injured and bleeding, I called it off. I told Yuta I was never coming back.” Your words stutter and tears slip from your eyes. “So, he took revenge. He’s behind all these recent attacks, all because of me. He sent a note to my apartment yesterday saying either I come back or he’ll kill you.”
Taeyong seems alarmed and then turns thinking, mind working overtime. You continue.
“So many people have already gotten hurt, even Jungwoo, because of me. It’s only a matter of time before you get injured o-or worse and I can't.. I can’t be responsible,” you gasp, wiping your eyes. “So, I have to go back. I have to never see you again.”
Taeyong’s face is unchanging, his voice still cold. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth before? Especially after you called it off with Yuta?”
You exhale. “I should have. I should have told you from the beginning. But I’ve been loyal to Yuta for a decade. After my father escaped, we joined his mob. It’s only because of his protection that the police didn’t catch my father and throw him in jail.” Understanding seeps into Taeyong’s eyes. “I couldn’t betray him. But I couldn’t betray you. I just… I was just stuck,” you bite out, clenching your fists. “And I was afraid if I told you the truth, you’d want me to leave. I was happy here for the first time, with you. I just wanted to disappear into this life, where I didn't have to think about anything else, not even the idea that you’d find out the truth and hate me,” Pain seizes your chest. “I was a coward.”
“But you want to leave now,” he notes, expression still neutral.
You blink at him. “Because you’re in danger. It doesn't matter how I feel anymore.”
He watches you for a second before the slightest hint of emotion shows on his face. “Do you love him?” He swallows, eyes pained. “Yuta?”
“No!” The word falls so quickly from your lips but his pained expression doesn’t shift. “I’m only loyal because he’s like family. Like… like you. I couldn't easily turn against him just like how I couldn’t be against you. But I never loved him,” you say evenly. “And I love you more than anything.”
Taeyong’s expression falters, softens. “If… if I allow you to stay, will you help us bring him down?” He asks carefully.
Words fail you for a moment. You thought Taeyong would yell in anger, throw you out like he did with that man. Instead, he gives you the smallest chance of penance. As of yesterday, you found happiness with Taeyong while Yuta threatens you and uses the love of your life to hurt you. It’s clear he will never see you as anything more than his weapon. And for the first time, everything feels clear. “Yes, I will.” 
Taeyong seems relieved. “Then… then stay. Help us bring him down.”
You blink at him, wide-eyed. “You trust me?”
Taeyong looks away. “I don’t know yet. But I can’t just let you go back to him. Who knows what he’ll do to you as punishment.” His hands curl into fists. “And I may not trust you completely, but I still love you. And I’m not losing you again, not after I found you after all these years.” You inhale. You never imagined that this conversation would end in any way other than with you leaving and never seeing Taeyong again. Something painfully tight in your heart loosens and suddenly, tears spill from your eyes. Taeyong reaches for you, then falters for a moment before deciding. He steps forward and pulls you into his arms. His fingers tangle in your hair and press you close to his chest. You melt against him, relishing the sound of his heartbeat as you cry freely. “Shh, it’s okay.”
“I love you,” you cry.
“I know,” he says gently, stroking your hair. He kisses your forehead. “I’m not losing you again.”
...
Over the next few days, you tell Taeyong everything you possibly know about Yuta and your old mob, including sensitive information. You hold nothing back. You know this is the time for endings. Taeyong uses every scrap of your information and turns them into orders for other members, into strategies and plans that will give an advantage, and generally puts things to work to ruthlessly take Yuta down. You are grateful that he does not tell the entire office of your treachery. It only appears as if Taeyong has received a sudden influx of highly sensitive information related to a hostile rival mob in a stroke of good luck. But as members of a criminal organization, not everyone is so naive, and they pick up on your sudden increase in visits to his office. Their warm looks suddenly turn to suspicious glares and wide kept distances. 
Jungwoo’s reaction hits you particularly hard. You’re not sure if Taeyong told him the truth about you since he’s his right hand, or if, more likely, Jungwoo found it out by himself. Either way, when you try to speak with him the first day after your revelation, he gives you the cold shoulder. You dont blame him, of course. He gave you information in confidence, which you relayed to the enemy and indirectly put him in danger. Still, your stomach sinks at his aloofness and spreads ice through your heart. You make sure to visit Taeyong’s office only from now on and relay only the necessary information, missing your friend’s twinkling eyes and warm smile the whole time.
Over the course of this work, even Taeyong keeps a distance. He doesn’t show you affection as much as he did before. When he does, it’s with a slightly guarded look in his eyes as if you’ll attack at any moment, with his kisses and touches all too fleeting. Sometimes, you feel lucky if he gives you a smile. You try to blame it on the busyness of work in taking down a rival mob, but it makes your heart crumble all the same. You know he needs time to build back trust, so you give him space. You don’t stay at his place these days and leave work before he can ask. It’s better than him telling you no or, worse, feeling pressured to offer. Whatever he feels, you want to be there for him, always, and hope that he’ll eventually make his way back to you. 
With everyone in the entire office regarding you suspiciously, work becomes a cold place. You’re also well aware that the ultimatum’s deadline is approaching, of which Yuta ordered you to come back within a week’s time or he’ll kill Taeyong. You’re sure that it will be more difficult for Yuta to target Taeyong now that the latter has all the dirt on him, has bolstered his defenses and is launching raids and attacks against Yuta, but it still makes you uneasy.
Taeyong seems to remember this too and asks you about it during one of your meetings with him. “Where did you say you found that note from Yuta?”
“My apartment.”
He blinks. “So he knows where you live?” You nod uneasily. He stiffens slightly. “Y/n, you can’t stay there.”
“I know.” You sigh. “I was thinking of secretly moving to a hotel. I’ve been packing and getting ready.”
“No!” He says bewilderedly but cuts himself off with a sigh. “With me. Stay with me.”
You stare at him. “Are you sure?” 
He gives you a level gaze. “Of course.”
You hesitate for a few moments before nodding. “Okay. I’ll bring over my things.” His face melts in relief, churning small butterflies in your stomach. Taeyong seems to want to say something else but decides against it and turns back to work. It’s enough though, for you. 
“I can take the guest room,” you offer, once you’ve unloaded your boxes and suitcases into his apartment.
“Don’t be silly.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Just use my bed, like you’ve done a million times.” You hesitate, uneasiness stirring in your gut. His dark eyes fix on you. “I don’t hate you, Y/n. You don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable.”
You still don't budge. He makes a show of plopping down on his bed and scooching to the far most end, patting the space beside him. You acquiesce with a sigh and climb in, settling into the sheets and lie down, facing away from him. You relish the familiar feeling of his mattress and his scent on the sheets, remembering the last time you were here before everything changed. “Goodnight Y/n,” Taeyong mumbles behind you.
“Goodnight,” you say into the darkness. Of course, the next day, you wake up tangled in each other's arms. You nearly hate yourself for it. He’s still sleeping and you find yourself quietly admiring his features, as you always do, when you wake up beside him. He looks so angelic and peaceful. You chance a small kiss to his forehead that you don't deserve before tearing yourself away. He catches you, though, arm wrapping around your back to press you to him as his eyelids flutter open. It's silent for a moment before he kisses you. You melt embarrassingly fast in his arms before he pulls away with a sigh. It’s silent for a few moments before you speak.
“I didn’t have a choice,” you say thickly, your heart aching. 
“I know.”
“I should've told you. I wanted to tell you.”
“I know,” he smiles, his eyes sad. “Your soft spot is your family and the people around you. And you were stuck between two. I know because it's mine too.” You sigh, blinking back the sting of tears in your eyes. He brings your hand up to kiss your palm. “I forgive you. Now, just forgive yourself.”
A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks. He wipes them gently. “Sorry. You probably prefer a girl who’s much less messy than me,” you laugh weakly.
He shushes you. “In all your rawness, ugliness and truth, that's how I want you.” His words seep into you. He gives you a final kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed to get ready for work. You manage to do the same.
...
This new way of life continues for several weeks more. Yuta continues his attacks on the mob but not on the same level as before since Taeyong has been counterattacking and sabotaging his operation, thanks to your help. You continue to supply as much information as you can remember, like how many members Yuta has, where they’re active, who are their allies, what documents he kept in his ever-secretive files. It helps greatly and Yuta’s attacks seem to decrease by the next month.
Everyone’s coldness towards you seems to thaw until you are accepted back as their member, all except for Jungwoo. He still doesn’t speak to you as much as before and when he does, it's curt and quipped, with cold, short words, not spending more time in your presence than necessary. It torments you. You make up your mind to have a direct conversation with Jungwoo so that he knows how sorry you are. But you also haven’t been feeling well suddenly the last few days and have not come into the office all together. Yesterday, your stomach churned as soon as you woke up and Taeyong caught you throwing up in the bathroom. He was worried and fussy and you assured him it must have been some bad fish you ate the day before. He didn’t want to leave you alone, and outright refused at first to go to work, but you assured him you’ll take some medicine and will be fine in a few hours. He left only after ten minutes of convincing and a promise that you’d call him if you were not feeling well.
As soon as he left, you finally let the dread swallow you whole. Could you be pregnant? You recounted that night in Taeyong’s office months ago when you definitely didn't use a condom. You facepalmed. If only you two hadn’t been so far gone with each other that day, you would’ve remembered. You tried to relax. Maybe it was something else. You did, in fact, eat fish the day before. One pregnancy test would have solved this question but you decided to do it later. Today, you’re determined to come into work and talk to Jungwoo. Damn your queasy stomach. He’s your only focus. Thankfully, you manage not to throw up this morning and unnecessarily worry Taeyong. Instead, you get ready and drive to work with him. As soon as you get into the office, you make your way to Jungwoo who is busy with some emails on his computer. 
“Jungwoo?” He doesn’t turn to face you, his full attention fixed on his screen. “Can we talk?” He sucks his teeth and doesn’t bother to turn around. “Look, I know I’ve-” An unpleasant nausea rises in your stomach, and suddenly you’re bolting towards the female restroom without another word. When you finally emerge back onto the main floor after emptying your guts, you spot Jungwoo staring at you from his desk, eyes narrowed suspiciously. You approach him, giving him a pathetic attempt at a smile.  “Just some bad tuna.”
“For three days in a row?” He asks. You merely stare at him in question as to how he could possibly know that. “I know you haven’t come into work the past few days,” he answers. You stare at the ground, tapping your shoe against the carpet, feeling foolish. He releases a sigh. “Does Taeyong know?” You shake your head and grumble, rubbing your forehead.
“Why not?” 
You exhale. “I… I'm still processing it myself. I'll tell him soon. I just need my head to clear.” you say wearily.
“Does anyone else know?” He asks. You shake your head. Jungwoo watches you with an unreadable expression. Then, he adjusts the chair beside him, the one that used to be yours. “Sit,” he instructs. You gaze at him with a glimmer of hope and obey. Once you do, he turns to face you, brows pinched in concern. “How are you feeling?”
“Nauseous,” you grimace, pressing your hands to your abdomen. He bites back a laugh. 
“I can guess. I meant your mind.”
You slink in your chair. “I'm scared. A mob at war is no place for a child.”
He nods. “And how do you feel about telling Taeyong?”
“Not much better. I’m sure he’ll be happy. I’m not worried about that. But for many months, I'll be… pregnant… and vulnerable.. With this war, if I fall into danger or if anybody takes me, I think he’ll destroy everything, even himself, trying to get me back.” You gaze at the carpet, deep in thought. “And I’m also afraid he’ll lock me up and never let me do anything out of fear for my safety.”
“Well, for the first one, you don't have to be pregnant for him to destroy everything to get you back,” Jungwoo says, smiling “And the second one, yeah, he would probably do that.”
You chuckle, glancing at him. “I know I have to tell him. I’m just… figuring out how to, I guess.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he reassures you. 
A few moments of silence settles between you. “I missed you,” you finally admit, watching the unguarded flinching emotion in his face before he attempts to shutter it away. You cover his hand with yours. “I’m sorry, I truly am.”
Jungwoo gazes at you then, sincerely, and whatever resistance he’s trying to put up against you fails. “I know. I'm sorry too. I'm here for you, you know?” You nearly tear up in relief. You tug him into a hug, which he reciprocates easily. Warmth spreads through your chest and to your heart that has been aching for months. Then, Jungwoo tugs himself away from you. “Careful, I don't want Boss yelling at me again.”
You laugh. “I won't let him do that. It's the reason why I got pregnant anyway,” you mumble.
He looks at you sharply “What?”
“Nothing!” You stand up suddenly. “I uh.. am late, bye.” You hear him laughing as you scurry off.
...
You join Taeyong in his office to help out on some work. Your stomach seems to settle down the rest of the day, thankfully. Your brain swims while you watch Taeyong work busily, trying to figure out how to break the news to him. Would he be happy? Of course he would. You know he wants this more than anything. You just have to work up the nerve. Maybe you can later, when you return home. The day ends and he drives you back to his place, as he’s been doing for weeks since you’ve moved in with him. “You know, it’s nice having you live with me. It feels almost as if we’re married.”
You snort. “We don’t argue enough to be married.”
He chuckles. “We’re happily married, how’s that?” He offers.
“Oh, so that’s why people specify the phrase ‘happily’ before the word ‘married’.”
“Yes,” he laughs. Once you get into his apartment and settle in, he gives you a look. “I would marry you, you know.”
Your cheeks heat up. He looks sincere. “Really?”
His eyes twinkle. “Yes.”
You gaze at him, speechless with emotion before you remember your news. “I need to tell you something.” His brows quirk as he undoes his wrist watch. Just then, the elevator dings behind you, signaling someone has gotten on from the bottom floor. Both of you freeze and turn to face the metal doors.
“That’s strange. No one has access to the elevator except Jungwoo. Did he tell you he was coming over?” Taeyong asks. You check your phone. No text messages or calls. Chills run down your spine as you stare at him and shake your head slowly. Taeyong’s eyes widen. Then, the doors ding open and you realize it’s most definitely not Jungwoo. “Y/n, get back!” Taeyong shouts.
Four or five men with guns step out of the doors and into the penthouse. It’s a surreal sight but they are all familiar. Yuta’s men. You scramble backwards away from them but one lunges to catch your sleeve and drag you off the chair towards them. You barely register Taeyong grabbing the gun from his dresser and aiming at them with a shout to let you go. The man who has you in his grip whirls you around to face Taeyong and presses a gun to your head. All the color drains from Taeyong’s face, but he doesn’t lower the gun. The man holding you captive growls behind you. “She belongs to us. We’re taking her back.” His arm  bars your neck and presses hard until you wince. “Yes, bring even traitors like you back,” he snarls into your ear.
Taeyong flinches as if to make a move but all guns suddenly train on him and he freezes once more. You merely gaze at Taeyong, trying to apologize with your eyes. His face is hard, his eyes a storm of emotions. His gun is still aimed at your captors, both hands wrapped around the handle, one finger around the trigger but you know he’s outnumbered. The gun against your temple pushes into your skin. “If you make one move, we’ll shoot her right here.”
Taeyong’s eyes flash. “Why don’t you just take me instead? Or kill me? Isn’t that what your boss wanted from the beginning?”
“Because someone would just replace you. Why do you think Yuta didn’t just send her as an assassin? We want to destroy your organization from the inside out. And she,” the gun nudges your head. “Is the key. She knows all your secrets by now. And as long as we have her, we’ll control you.” Another man speaks up. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t kill you and her if you try anything.”
“It's okay. I’ll be okay.” You reassure Taeyong as calmly as you can.
Taeyong’s eyes shine, the gun wavering in his hands before he lowers it. “I’ll get you back, I promise.”With that, the men are stepping back into the elevator, dragging you with them. Your last view is Taeyong’s distressed, anguished face before the metal doors close.
...
After a never ending van ride with your familiar kidnappers calling you a traitor and telling you to wait until Yuta gets his hands on you, you end up back at his base, sitting in a dark, empty room with a single chair and a lightbulb dangling above you. You know this room. It’s one of the rooms they used to question enemies and prisoners, although “question” is an understatement, you think, spotting the faded bloodstains on the ground. Just then, the door opens to reveal a familiar face with long red hair. “Long time no see, Boss” you hum as Yuta steps into the dim light of the room. 
He looks angry. His eyes glint as he slowly circles you. “Yes,” he gives a fake smile. “I recall the last time I saw you, when you were still loyal.” 
“Yes, that was a while ago. Many things have changed since then.” 
He snorts. “Things, huh?” He stops in front of you, peering down. “Why don’t you tell me every single piece of intel you know about that place, just like I ordered you to?”
You match his glare. “Do you need it? You seem to be managing fine against them on your own.”
Yuta grits his teeth. “Not anymore. Your boyfriend put up a good fight against us. You saw to that, I’m sure.”
“How did you manage to do that much damage in the first place?” You ask.
“I wasn’t aware this was my interrogation session.” He growls. “Besides, I don’t answer to traitors. You’re lucky you're even alive to ask questions. I could've had you killed for your treachery instead of being taken.”
You huff out a laugh. “Then you would’ve lost your precious chance to use me to take down Taeyong’s mob.” 
His eyes flare. “Right, Taeyong. The one you threw everything out for.”
“I told you when you gave me this case and I didn’t want to take this one. I told you the risk.”
“I didn't think we’d lose you so easily. After ten years, you throw that loyalty away?”
You glare at him. “Ten years is not enough for me to put my loyalty to you over him.”
He seems to falter. Then, he steels himself, eyes flashing with anger. “How long then? Twenty years?” You don’t reply. ”Fifty? One hundred?” When you still don’t respond, he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t believe this.”
“It's not personal, it's just-”
“Yes, it is personal!” He jabs a finger into your face. “I send you to do a job and you throw out everything we built together over some crush!?”
“You know by now it’s not some crush!” You bite back. The anger on his face crumbles a little into surprise. You sigh frustratedly. “You don’t understand. I didn’t have a choice. I was stuck between you and him. I couldn’t betray either of you. Do you know I didn’t rat you out right away? I didn’t tell Taeyong or anyone until you sent me that fucking note. And when I did tell them, it was because I was going to leave and come back to you. That’s when they saw me as a traitor. I was loyal and a traitor to both sides.”
Yuta falls silent for a few moments before speaking quietly. “But you didn’t come back to me. You stayed and helped him take me down. You made your decision in the end.”
“Yes, I did. But it’s because you were going to kill him. It’s not because you meant nothing to me.” 
He falls quiet again. “Tell me what you know of the Scorpion, Y/n.” You stay silent, staring at the floor. “You know this business. If you don't tell me what you know and prove to me your allegiance, you’re of no use to me.”
“What then? Are you going to torture me? Kill me?” You ask him. “Would you do that to me, Yuta?” 
He doesn’t respond. He only turns and walks out the door, speaking over his shoulder. “You have one day to make up your mind.”
....
Taeyong is losing his mind. Jungwoo has never seen him like this. He called an emergency meeting, had people come back into the office to assemble in the conference room, and proceeded to pace and ramble and stumble over his words as he tried to explain the situation. He runs his hand through his hair until it stuck up on the ends, even stopping to kick a chair over in frustration. Jungwoo still can’t believe you were taken from his apartment. He figures they must have tracked you somehow. “I want everyone to split up and come up with plans to get her back,” Taeyong orders, his voice uneven. “We already know where his base is, thanks to her. We’ll meet back here in ten minutes. Dismissed.”
The room empties out with people already mumbling ideas. Taeyong goes back to pacing, scratching the back of his head nervously before growing taut. Then, he kicks another chair over with a frustrated grunt. It’s only then does he notice Jungwoo is still in the room. “Ah,” he blinks, embarrassed, staring at the chair. “I was just… just frustrated.” 
“I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay?” Jungwoo asks.
Taeyong’s face crumbles into despair. “They just took her… right out from under me, they just came in and pointed a gun at her head and took her.”
“I know,” Jungwoo tries to sound soothing. “I’ll help in any way I can.”
Taeyong doesn’t look reassured. His brows are pinched and his lips have been twisted in a perpetual frown since he walked in here. “We have to come up with a plan.”
Jungwoo nods. “Any ideas so far?”
Taeyong chews his lip. “Maybe we can just raid his base with sheer manpower. She can figure out how to run or hide in the commotion. If she gets her hand on a weapon, she can even help us out before we get her out of there.”
Jungwoo’s stomach churns, remembering how, just today, you couldn’t get through a full conversation with him without vomiting. Worse yet, you’ve been like this for the past three days. The plan doesn’t seem like the best idea given your condition. “I don’t know about having her join the fight. We have to keep her protected at all costs.”
Taeyong looks at him inquisitively. “I mean, she can handle herself. She’s a trained soldier.”
Jungwoo realizes you never got the chance to tell Taeyong the truth. “She didn’t tell you?”
Taeyong blinks. “Tell me what?”
“She’s pregnant.”
Silence blares loudly in the room for a full minute. All emotion drains from Taeyong’s face only to be replaced with shock. “What?”
“She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up just this morning.”
Taeyong looks dazed. “She’s pregnant..?” Jungwoo nods. Taeyong’s eyes become misty. He suddenly grips his forehead. “She told me it was bad tuna.”
Jungwoo bites back a laugh. “She told me that too.” He watches Taeyong blink back tears and take a breath, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Boss, listen. We can't let her fight on her own. She’s not well as it is and can barely keep her food down. On top of that, the baby…”
“The baby...” Taeyong breathes. His eyes are a million miles away. “Her and my baby… and,” His eyes grow cold, jaw clenching. “And Yuta took her.”
“Yes, he did.” Jungwoo says. “And he might kill her tonight if she doesn't give him any useful information.”
All panic is gone from Taeyong. Now he’s cold, rigid, familiar, the one that Jungwoo is used to. “We’re not going to show mercy.” Taeyong growls. “And we’ll find a way that doesn't put her.. or.. our baby.. at risk.”
Jungwoo grins. “Yes, Boss.”
...
You’re locked in a cell for the night. Not really a cell, more like one of their spare bedrooms that can be locked from the outside. It’s not too bad; it has a bed and a bucket. The bucket is particularly useful for your nausea bouts that have started up again since they locked you in here. Even if you try to escape, it will be difficult in your condition. Fatigue aches throughout your body. Your head feels light and your stomach is perpetually queasy. Being kidnapped, questioned and thrown into a cell certainly hasn’t helped. At least they gave you some semblance of a dinner, you think, eyeing the slop of food in a bowl on your table.
You can’t sleep, obviously, and opt to keep your mind busy during this insufferable silence. You try to trace how Yuta knew where Taeyong’s penthouse was in order to kidnap you. Then, it hits you. Your old cell phone that you threw out because Yuta was tracking it - you did that after you visited Taeyong’s place for the first time. Yuta must have just figured that any place you were staying at for a long stretch of time that wasn’t the office or your apartment was Taeyong’s.You wonder what Taeyong must be thinking. He was so panicked when you saw him last, understandably. You told him the location of Yuta’s base weeks ago, so he definitely knows where you are. He’s probably on his way here right now, or hopefully before tomorrow. 
You wonder if Yuta would really have you killed tomorrow if you don’t cooperate. He’s always been strict, mean, ruthless, but never entirely heartless. You find it hard to imagine him being able to execute you after spending a decade together. 
Suddenly, the sound of shouting and banging doors erupts from outside. Then, gunfire. You shoot up in bed and catch the sight of people running to and fro through the small window of your door. It looks like Taeyong came early after all. 
...
“We attack from the front main entrance in heavy numbers. Jungwoo, you lead this group. A small group will loop around the side. There should be a back entrance that will likely not be guarded because of the commotion at the front. I’ll slip in there and find her,” Taeyong instructed the team.
They follow it perfectly. As Taeyong slips through the back entrance and descends into the underground base, he hears shouting, gunfire and footsteps bounding down hallways. He quietly navigates the abandoned backrooms. He vaguely remembers you describing the layout of this place once. If he remembers correctly, the place where they hold prisoners should be…He turns the corner and finds a series of doors lining the entire hallway. Behind each one is a bedroom. All of them are empty except for one whose light is filtering through the small window of its door. Anticipation swells inside him as he dashes to the room, muttering a prayer that you be okay. 
The door is locked. He curses and peers through the window. He sees your face, alarmed and caught off guard before you register that it’s him. The sweetest relief floods him at the sight of you unharmed. You mouth something that he can't hear before you motion to the outside wall at the end of the hallway. He follows the line of sight and spots keys dangling on a wall hook. He dashes over to grab them before running back, unlocking the door and shouldering it open. You’re swallowed in a hug so quickly you can barely breathe. Taeyong’s arms are around you, squeezing you to him, tucking you under his chin, before running through your hair and cupping your cheeks. He’s mumbling questions and you realize he's checking to see if you're injured. You can feel him trembling. “Hey, hey, I’m okay,” you reassure him, holding his hands that are cupping your cheeks.
Anxiety bleeds from his face. He checks you one again, then pulls you in for another crushing hug. You can’t help but sigh and melt in his arms, grateful that he’s here. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs.
“It's not your fault.” You rub his back. Another round of gunfire erupts in the background. “We have to get out of here.”
He pulls away. “No, we’re not running. Yuta will just come after us. We’re going to defeat him here.”
Your stomach flips. “Defeat… Will you kill him?”
Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Yes. He was going to kill you wasn't he?” 
“I know… I just-” More gunfire rings out. You turn to Taeyong. “Give me a gun. I can help. I know their weaknesses and where to hide in this place.”
Emotion envelops his face. He cups your cheek softly. “Not this time.”
“Why not?”
“You… the baby…” he trails off, his eyes shining. 
“Oh,” you swallow. “Jungwoo told you.”
He releases a breath, lips curling into a small smile before he presses his forehead to yours. “Yeah, he did.”
The sounds of gunfire and shouting grow louder. “I can help, Taeyong. It can make a lot of difference out there. What if our guys run into a dead end hallway and get shot down? I can help everyone navigate this place, especially where to retreat to.” 
He pulls away from you. “No.”
Your eyes roam his face. “Please. I'll hide. What if you take more losses because you could have used me?”
“That’s a risk I'll take.”
“Taeyong…”
“Please, just for this one time, please do as I say.”
You fall silent. He’s never given you an order before. His hand slips from your cheek as he turns towards the door and the sound of gunfire. You make a last attempt. “I'll hide, I'll keep safe. I just want to help.” He shakes his head one more time, steps out of the room and closes the door, automatically locking it from the outside. You speechlessly stare at him through the small window. He gives an apologetic look before running off. You stare in disbelief and then rattle the door handle. It doesn't budge. The sound of gunfire rises and you anxiously wonder if it's because Taeyong entered their line of sight. If he gets hurt again when you could've done something about it….
You slam your palms against the door this time, desperation and anger rising inside of you. He locked you in here like another prisoner. “This is not happening,” you mumble. More gunfire rings out. Someone shouts in pain. Tears sting your eyes. There must be some way.
You look through the door window at the ground of the hallway outside and spot the keys on the floor close by. Taeyong must've dropped them as soon as he unlocked the door and ran to hug you. You kneel and find a big enough gap under the door for your palm. You stick your hand out, fingers brushing the edge of the keys. You pinch them with your fingertips and drag it through the door successfully. 
You stand up and exhale in victory, fumbling with the keys. You unlock the door from your side and make your escape. Gunfire echoes from all around you, from every floor and hallway. Most of the people you find along the way are unconscious or too injured to fight, and a few you fear may be dead. Most of them are Yuta’s men. You know almost all of them and it makes your heart ache. Then, you hear Taeyong’s shout and all blood drains to your legs. You sprint into the main hall and spot Taeyong’s familiar pistol on the floor by the door to Yuta’s office, which is open. Your stomach lurches and panic seizes your brain. You fight down the rising nausea in your stomach and run through the door. 
Taeyong is bleeding on the floor in front of you, clutching his leg while Yuta stands by his desk, the same spot where he gave you this mission all those days ago. His gun is aimed directly at Taeyong. Without thinking, you hurl yourself into his path.
“Stop!” You shout. 
“Y/n!?” Yong shouts in disbelief. “What are you doing here!? I told you to stay there!”
You glare at Yuta who’s been frozen since you first stepped in his line of sight. “If you’re going to shoot him, you’ll have to shoot me first.”
Yuta stares at you, gun still aimed. His face is hard but uncertain. “You’d give up your life just for him?” You don’t respond but your expression is all Yuta needs as an answer. Taeyong gives a protesting groan behind you. The sound of gunfire tapers off in the distance. The raid sounds like it's coming to a close. Yuta releases a breath, his gun wavering. “All I wanted to do was take down the Scorpion. You made it so, so difficult. I only retaliated.” Yuta grits his teeth.
“You harassed my people, infiltrated my organization, and tried to assassinate me. Taking her was the final slight,” Taeyong growled. “Don’t act like you are the victim.”
Yuta glowers. “Y/n, I will let you walk out of here right now if you step out of the way.”
“Walk away, huh? So what about that ultimatum you gave me when you brought me back here?” You ask him. “You were never going to kill me if I didn't give you intel because you can’t do it.”
Yuta avoids your eyes and doesn't respond. You were right; he has a soft spot for you too. “So, what’s it going to be? Will you kill us both?” you ask.
Silence fills the room. His gun is still trained on you. Then, you hear Taeyong’s voice from behind you. “She's pregnant.” 
Shock envelops Yuta’s face. His gun wobbles before he lowers it. He seems to search for confirmation in your face and finds it. He groans,  running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
You stare at him, perplexed. He turns around and grips the edge of his desk, head falling forward in defeat. When you realize he’s not going to shoot, you immediately kneel by Taeyong’s side and check his injuries. There's a gash below his knee but it doesn't seem terribly serious. “Y/n,” Taeyong whispers. “Grab my gun back there and shoot him while he’s distracted.” 
You freeze. “What? I can’t do that.”
Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Y/n-“
“She won’t kill me if that’s what you're whispering about," Yuta calls, sighing heavily before turning around to face you once more. “She’s too soft. Too attached.” His head falls forward. “What a fucking weakness,” he mumbles, almost to himself.
“And you?” Taeyong glares. “You won't kill me as soon as she's not in your line of sight?”
Yuta only looks on tiredly. “No. I’m not going to take a father away from his kid before it's even born.” Silence fills the room. It looks like Taeyong doesn’t know what to think. You remember how Yuta has always refused to hurt children and, if he could help it, parents. It's why he and his father gave you a chance to join this mob when your family was on the run. Similar to Taeyong, there's a softness behind the ruthlessness that sets their mobs apart from all others in the city. “Everything I built is gone,” Yuta sighs tiredly. “Most of my men are dead or injured, my base is discovered.”
You help Taeyong sit up, and tear a cloth from your shirt to wrap it around his wound. “We both did some bad damage,” Taeyong grunts as you tend to his injury. “We seriously compromised each other. Worse yet, we’re the two biggest mobs in the city and now we’re handicapped. The worse, less moral, more violent ones will try to take over.”
Yuta hisses. “The ones peddling drugs and trafficking humans. They will turn this city into a fucking warzone while vying for power.” 
Taeyong nods in agreement. His bleeding seems to have stopped. He sits up with a wince. Yuta stares glumly at the ground.
“Maybe you both can come to a truce,” You suggest, catching their attention. “I know we’re literally sitting in the aftermath of a bloodbath of a mob war but… if you have a common interest, maybe you can come to an agreement or ceasefire or….” you trail off as both men stare at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You sigh exasperatedly. “Do you want Johnny’s mob taking over? The one that's already terrorizing that club we went to and probably every other establishment in the city?”
Taeyong and Yuta exchange glances. They seem to come to a begrudging, silent understanding. Taeyong turns to you. “Ceasefire for now. We’ll… talk about this later. We have to check on our members.”
You eye Yuta in question. His eyes are narrowed and you know he’s mulling over every angle and opportunity in his head. In the end, he exhales. “Fine. Ceasefire. Go tend to your wounded.”
...
In all, a handful were injured. A few died. You find Jungwoo unharmed and give him the tightest possible hug. Once you leave the base, Taeyong gets checked over at a hospital. They don’t ask any questions, as always, since they have a general idea he’s with the mob that runs the city. You stay with him overnight until he's discharged in the morning. Both of you return to his place after that and try to recover over the next few days. Taeyong orders the office closed for a few weeks. He says that, after everything that’s happened, people need time to process the loss of life, assess the damages and heal mentally and physically. Yuta honors the ceasefire and, for a few weeks, it seems as if there is peace.
A few days after the raid, you finally register the dull anger broiling in your stomach. You find yourself keeping a slight distance from Taeyong whenever he’s nearby and you realize, for the first time, that you are angry with him. He realizes this too and finally speaks on it one evening when both of you are watching television in his bedroom. “Back in Yuta’s base, you know why I had to leave you in there, right?”
“No, I don't.” You sit up from the bed to face him. “You almost died. Maybe it all would’ve been better if I joined and we talked Yuta down sooner.” 
Taeyong frowns. “Or he would’ve hurt you. You trust in his goodness too much. I was only trying to protect you.”
“It didn't feel like protection. It felt like an easy way to guarantee your peace of mind at the cost of my free will.” You stare at him. “You cannot make decisions for me.”
“I can if you’re carrying our child.” He glares back.
You purse your lips. “I’m aware that I need to protect myself and the baby, but I wanted to protect other people too, just like you. That isn’t something you can order me not to do. You’re not the Boss in everything.” You pull away from him and slide off the bed.
“Y/n.” His expression of anger turns to pleading.
“Do you know how helpless I felt? You could have been dying and I would have been stuck behind that door. And if all of you were killed, what then? I’d just be stuck there, with no one to come get me out.” 
“But we weren't killed and you did get out. Somehow,” he says bluntly. His expression looks like a parent’s who is chastising their child for disobeying orders. The look you gave must have been so full of disappointment since he sighs and acquiesces. “I wasn't thinking much at the time. I was just afraid you’d deny my order and run into combat, which you did. I… needed to keep you somewhere safe.”
“Keep me or lock me?” You huff. “It felt so insulting to be physically locked away and not being allowed to do what I thought was best at the time in my mind because fear clouded yours. Why are your wishes more important than mine?” 
Taeyong visibly slumps against the headboard. “No. They are not more important. I was just.. selfish and scared. When they..” He falters before his voice comes out shaky. “When they came here, put a gun to your head and took you from my own place where I should've been able to keep you safe, I thought you were dead. I lost it. Every minute when I didn't know you were okay, I was losing my mind.” He releases a heavy sigh, blinking back tears. “Then when I saw you again unharmed in that cell, I was so relieved. I couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger again and I just acted on my feelings.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”
Your heart lurches. You climb back into his bed and take him into your arms. “I didn't think of that. I’m sorry too.” He sniffs and presses himself closer. What a mess, you think. Injured twice, put in danger’s path too many times, all with a baby on the way. “This is no life for a child,” you sigh, tickling his hairs under your chin. “I wish we could get away from all this.”
His hand presses against your stomach. “Maybe we can.” You glance at him in question. “I can step down as boss. We can abandon this violent life, raise our child safely and live in peace.”
You blink, gazing down at him. “That sounds like a dream. But you said the mob was compromised and the city will suffer.”
His words come out muffled against your chest. “Maybe Yuta could take over.”
Your brain grinds to a halt. “What?” 
You pull back to look at him. He sighs, propping his head on his arm. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I can’t think straight right now. Too much has happened recently.” He glances at you. “But we originally kept other mobs in check. We kept the city stable and safe to an extent. But now, we’ve destroyed each other. Others will challenge us. If we merge into one organization, we can consolidate power and retain our standing.” He chances a look up at you. “Besides, I’m impressed with how he was so good at finding out our top secret information. He might be a boon to our team.”
You release a breath, sliding down against the headboard. “I never thought I’d hear that from you.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t know the extent of the damage we were doing to each other until we were in his base, surrounded by bodies, from both sides. Not to mention our months of attacks against each other before that.” he sighs. “People have taken it hard here. We are weakened.” He says. “And Yuta didn’t…. he kill me when he could have. I would have killed him in his position. I guess that’s something.”
You gaze at him. “So is this the truce you will offer him? Merging? And you’ll step down and make him boss?”
He winces. “I don’t know about making him boss. He can run his own unit as part of our larger organization if he chooses. But I’ll step down.” He says, smiling. “And we can live far away from the violence and never think about it again.”
“That… sounds almost too good to be true.”
He takes your hand and kisses it. “We deserve it after all these years. I want to be a father rather than a kingpin. I’d much rather be by your side raising our baby and being your h… um,” he averts his eyes and clears his throat. “Being domestic.”
Your heart melts, noticing the pink tint to his cheeks. “You do love domesticity.” You chuckle. “Who will take your place then?”
Taeyong grins. “I think someone deserves a promotion.”
...
Over the next few weeks, Taeyong notifies Yuta of the proposed plan, who begrudgingly accepts. He also tells the office about the news of the merger, earning loud protests of outrage. “We’re supposed to work alongside the people that killed us!?” One member shouts. 
Taeyong gazes around the conference room. “It’s either this or we close down. Given what’s happened, it will be extremely difficult to climb back to where we were,” he explains. “We will be vulnerable to attacks by other mobs and more people will die. If we don’t come to an agreement with Yuta, he might begin attacking us again as well. This will repeat for a while.” Grumbled murmurs echo around the room. “Also, I will be stepping down.”
That gets even louder shouts. Taeyong raises his hands signaling everyone to settle down.
“You said we’re compromised but you’re going to leave us without a leader!?” A woman protests.
“Someone will replace me, of course. Someone who is far better suited to the position than me, someone who is much more intelligent and perceptive will be a force to be reckoned with if anyone dares challenge us from now on.” Taeyong smiles, eyes fixing on one person. “Jungwoo.”
Jungwoo looks stunned. The mumbles of protests pause entirely for a few moments before they turn into cheers and hollers. Someone slaps him on the back a few times in congratulations and he blinks as if in a daze. “Me? As Boss?” 
Taeyong grins. “Do you accept?” Jungwoo blinks furiously before nodding. “Then, congratulations.” The room bursts into applause. Absolutely no one objects to his appointment. Jungwoo has always been the most intelligent and discerning, and will no doubt be a force to be reckoned with against any of the mob’s enemies. Within a few days, Taeyong officially hands over the position, his office, and the reigns to his right hand.
...
In the following weeks, Taeyong exchanges a few calls with Yuta, mostly on how to merge the organizations, and discuss grievances and conditions. They settle on some specific deal you don’t understand, but it must be adequate since Yuta agrees to merge and actually comes over to the office for a few meetings. Within a month, they officially merge and things seem to stabilize and run smoothly. Jungwoo takes to the new role quickly as well. He already knows the inner workers of the mob so he needs very little training. In turn, Taeyong is able to resign fully. Jungwoo insists on throwing a going away party, filled with some teary goodbyes, congratulations and well wishes with the pregnancy. From here, you can begin to believe things will actually get better. 
With all the new free time, Taeyong is able to help take care of you for the rest of your pregnancy. He supports you through all your woes, like making you food, holding your hair back while you’re hurling into the toilet, massaging your aching muscles. Some nights he props his chin onto your stomach, speaking to the baby with a light in his eyes. It’s the deepest peace you’ve ever felt. A month later, your morning sickness evens out and you identify the faintest change in the protrusion of your stomach. A baby bump. When you first show him, Taeyong is over the moon. He can’t keep his hands off your tummy. His eyes shine and lips are curled into a smile that stays for a week. It’s also when you chance a question at Taeyong that you meant as a suggestion, just something to think about, but it changes everything. It’s when you’re lounging in bed, one of those restful days. Sunlight pours in through the blinds and the television is low in the background. “Taeyong?” He hums in question. “Do you want to get married?”
A beat of silence passes. “...What?” You chance a glance at him. He’s absolutely shocked. Heat flares on your cheeks in embarrassment. 
“I don't know… I just thought maybe someday we can. I know we don't have to, but I just thought we’re going to be together… I mean, forever, right?” You blush. “That came out cheesy. I meant neither of us have any intention to leave, so might as well-”
He cuts you off with a kiss and pulls away before you can even process it. “Yes, yes, yes,” he litters butterfly kisses across your face and pulls you into a hug. You melt, laughing into his shoulder. “I thought you wouldn’t want to.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” You giggle. “We’re already having a whole kid together.”
“I don’t know,” he pulls back, a smile curled wide over his lips. It’s wonderful to see him happy. “I want to. I definitely want to.”
Your heart soars. “Then let’s get married.”
....
It’s short work to plan your wedding. Neither if you want it too large, but much of the office is invited to reception afterwards. It arrives in another month, your belly swelling a little bit more by then, but not noticeable under your wedding dress. The ceremony is emotional and filled with reverence. You’ll never forget the sight of your groom in his tux, shining eyes and smile, calling you his wife and him your husband, the words like magic on your tongue. The reception afterwards is a jubilant contrast, full of dancing and drinking. A few colleagues, including Jungwoo, pat you on the back in congratulations. You pass the night in a tizzy of dancing and laughing until a familiar figure enters the hall. You think it’s a stranger before you realize it’s Yuta. He spots you, eyes running over your wedding dress before giving you a smile. “Yuta?” You ask in disbelief. “I can’t believe…”
“That I'm here at your wedding? Neither can I.” He laughs a little, surveying the venue hall before focusing on you again. “Taeyong invited me.” You stare at him in surprise. He shrugs. “We are business partners and all.” He grabs a glass of champagne off of a passing waiter’s dish. “Surprisingly, it seems that your husband and I work well together.”
You bite your tongue but can’t seem to hold the words back. “How can we know that you’re not going to split and attack us again when you’ve recovered enough power?”
He blinks. “What, and repeat the same cycle that ended me up here? Don’t worry. I’m not that stupid, sweetheart.” He says, and suddenly, you’re the one who feels stupid. “You look beautiful by the way. Your father would have been proud.” Emotion grips you without warning. Yuta gives you a final smile and turns away, sipping his champagne as he disappears in the mesh of guests and dancing.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of chatter, smiles, drinks, dancing and food. When the night ends, you and Taeyong climb into his car to the whoops and hollers of the crowd, and drive back to his place. You both would have been tipsy out of your mind and gone straight to bed, but since you can’t drink, Taeyong refuses to as well, claiming emotional support. That leaves time for other things.
“Alright, how do you want this to go down?” You ask, undoing your jewelry in front of his vanity.
Taeyong laughs, unzipping your dress when you offer your back to him. “You mean for our wedding night?” You nod as you slip off the gown and sigh at the freedom of not being weighed down by a thousand pounds of fabric. He eyes you as you undo the rest of your jewelry, your hair and underclothes. “I can think of one thing.” 
“And what’s that?” You ask, catching sight of him through the mirror. He’s leaning against the bedpost with his arms crossed, still dressed in his tux but without the jacket, looking as handsome as ever. 
"I think I'd like to be your plaything for a while.” Your brain grinds to a halt. You turn to blankly stare at him. He smirks. "What's the matter?” He reaches out to place his hands on your hips. "I promise I won't resist whatever you want to do to me.”
You swallow thickly. “You’re teasing me.”
"Oh, I'm not teasing you at all, love,” He smiles softly, his hands tightening slightly around your hips. "I'm giving myself up to you.” You blink hard. A former kingpin at the complete mercy of his wife. Just the thought of it has heat blazing through your body. His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. "Play with me, tease me, do this however you want. I’m yours,” his lips brush your jaw. “I’ll be your good boy.”
You inhale deeply as his arms wrap around your waist and press you to him. “You’ll do anything?” He hums in acknowledgement, kissing down your neck. “Alright,” you test, “kneel for me.”
He smirks, and steps away from you. He then kneels down, lowering himself until his knees hit the ground and he’s peering up at you. “You… you actually did it.” you breathe.
His eyes dance with amusement. "What, did you expect me to disobey you?” He chuckles softly, and his eyes going dark. "Or is it just seeing me on my knees that's making you lose your train of thought?”
“Uh… yes.. it's the knees.”
He grins, reaching out to caress your calf. “Now what should I do?”
“I don't know. I didn't think I'd get this far.”
He laughs. Then, he takes your hand and begins kissing your palm. “Use me, love.”
Heat flares in your stomach. You cup his cheek gently. “Would anyone have suspected the mob king lord of everything was so submissive? And obedient at that?”
He nuzzles into your hand. “I think they all know me pretty well. Besides, I’m only like this for you.”
“Hmm,” you move your hand to cup his chin and rest your thumb on his bottom lip. You do it out of curiosity, but his lips close around your thumb without hesitation. His dark eyes burn into yours as his tongue circles your thumb. You are struck with a flashback to that evening in the office, how he held you down against his desk with his gaze burning into yours and ate you within an inch of your life. Heat burns and pools through your body. You pull your hand away, tug him up to stand again and kiss him hard. He groans into your lips, arms wrapping tightly around your waist and mouth parting immediately to grant you entrance. He lets you completely dominate the kiss, your tongue sliding past his lips. His demeanor is so different from that time in his office. He’s much more vocal now, whiney even. His lips are soft and pliant, his brows knitted in slight desperation, his hands roaming over your body. You break for air and plant kisses under his jaw.
“My good boy,” you mumble. His eyes flutter closed and he releases a loud groan. You pull away to take him in. His lips are stained from your lipstick, his hair that was neatly combed before now slightly messy, his dress shirt rumpled, eyes lidded and mouth panting. “Get on the bed.” He obeys quickly. You watch as he settles against the headboard before waiting for your next order, his eyes expectant and eager to please. “Take off your vest and shirt.” He listens without complaint. He tilts his head back to undo the tie at his collar before throwing it to the floor, then unbuttons his vest and dress shirt underneath. He works with urgency, nimble fingers determinedly undoing every part of his ensemble all because you asked. 
Now free from your garments except your slip underdress, you comfortably climb onto the bed to rest beside him. His dark eyes fixate on you as the final button is undone. He tears off his dress shirt and throws it off to the side, revealing his familiar bare torso that encourages your eyes to run across his tattoos.“You’re beautiful,” you mumble before leaning over and kissing him deep. He melts immediately, hands cupping your cheeks to pull you closer. You pull away abruptly to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck until he’s groaning lowly and melting into the mattress. You nip his skin with the slightest nick of your teeth as you travel down to his collarbone. It has a profound effect on him, pulling shallow breaths and moans from his lips. Your lips travel over his heart and down his chestline. His breathing turns harsh, and moans grow louder. You opt then to lick down his abdomen, leaving him shivering. 
You glance up at him. You figure your gaze must have been dark and full of lust because he looks completely wrecked and held immobile. His cheeks are flushed, lips stained red, pupils dilated. You maintain eye contact as you kiss and lick and nip down the rest of his abdomen, urging his muscles to quiver and flex the lower you go. Once you get to his pantline, he’s already straining against his slacks. You press a final kiss to the spot below his navel, earning a jump of his muscle and a low groan from him, before undoing his belt and tugging the garment completely off his legs, along with his boxers. You don't wait to press kisses to his thighs. His hard cock is so easily within reach but you choose to litter kisses along his hips, thighs, and navel instead. You tease until he’s whimpering and pressing his hips up from the mattress and towards your mouth. When you kiss the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, he gasps, tangles his fingers in your hair and moans. “Please, Y/n.” 
“Please what?”
His hazy eyes manage to focus on you. “Please stop teasing.” 
You hum, moving to suck the juncture of his pelvis while your hand not-so-accidentally grazes his balls. “You mean like this?”
He gasps harshly, fingers tightening in your hair, head tilting against his pillow. “Y-Yes, yes like that.”
“But I don’t want to stop. Not until you’re completely gone, and begging and teary for me.” You see him swallow, eyes darkening a few shades. He barely has time to find a response before you’re back to kissing, sucking, and biting his thighs until he’s panting and whining once more. After a few more minutes, you can tell that his mental cohesion is slipping. His brows are knitted, bottom lip bitten and red, eyes helpless with the slightest hint of desperate tears.
“Please, please, please Y/n,” he babbles, gasping at your tongue on his hip bone. His hands are still in your hair and you allow them to stay there so long as he isn't forcing your head towards where he needs you the most.
“Just a little longer. You said you wanted to be my plaything, didn’t you?”
He shivers at that, eyes clenching shut. His cheeks are flush much more now. “I can’t take it anymore.”
You hum as you mouth along his pelvis. “Tell me what you want.”
“You mouth,” he moans brokenly.
“You already have my mouth,” you say, pointedly ignoring the straining, leaking cock within reach.
His eyes fly open when you mouth his balls, suckling the skin. He shivers hard, eyes rolling back. He pants harshly, fighting to remember words. He trembles under you, hands shaky in your hair. “On my cock, please, please.”
“As you wish.” When your lips close around his cock finally,  his face twists into a pained grimace. You slowly stroke him with your lips, tongue swirling around his length, pulling harsher breaths and shivers from him. His eyelids flutter and are so deeply lidded they are almost closed. He seems to fight to keep them open if only to take in the sight of you between his legs. You take him up till his base, enveloping him entirely with his mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. He arches and releases a deep groan. He twitches in your mouth, and you realize he’s already close. You take the liberty to speed up, your lips meeting the hilt each time, tongue swirling around his length. He gasps harshly for breath, back arching, hips trembling and bucking up to meet you before you hold them down with your hands. You suck him faster, making his moans grow higher in pitch until he’s suddenly seizing up, tight and still, his head pressing back into the pillows and back arched beautifully. His warmth fills your mouth and you groan, relishing it as you swallow. He’s shaking everywhere as collapses on the bed with another breathless moan. 
You continue licking him clean while he pants to catch his breath. He’s still hard in your mouth, you realize, and you can’t help continue sucking him until he’s flinching and tugging you off of him by your hair. “Ah, too much.” You relent, thinking you’re tormented him enough for one night, and press a final kiss to his hip. He pulls you up to kiss him, hands reverently cupping your cheeks, mouth and tongue moving leisurely against you. When he pulls away, he has stars in his eyes. “You’re amazing.”
You laugh. “It was that good, huh?”
He presses another kiss. “I think I almost blacked out.”
You laugh. He guides your leg over his hip to straddle him comfortably. You kiss his palm. “Y/n,” his eyes shine, cheeks still flushed. “Tell me I’m perfect.” You blink at him and he explains. “The first day you came to us, when we talked in my office, I told you I looked like a toad and you said I was perfect.” He flushes “I couldn't tell you at the time how it made me feel, but now I can.” He kisses your hand. “Tell me I’m perfect. Tell me everything.”
Your heart melts at his pleading, vulnerable eyes. You hope he knows you’ll give him everything he asks for. You give him a soft kiss. “You’re perfect,” you say, watching his eyes glow with your praise. You litter kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “You’ve always been perfect. You’re sweet and strong and kind and you’re mine. Absolutely perfect.”
He shivers and groans, hands pulling you roughly against his lips to kiss you. You melt into him, hands running through his hair, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne. You slip off your underdress and the rest of your garments, watching his eyes darken. When you straddle him again, you’re already so wet from having him in your mouth from before. You slide him in easily up til the hilt, pleasure bursting across your eyelids while he grips your hips like a vice, lips parted and head tilted back against the pillows. This time, it’s slow and passionate, just like your first. You bend low to kiss him and barely allow a few inches of distance the entire time you ride him. You relish his groans, his fluttering eyes. Praises fall from your lips in abundance, without pause or restraint, and you watch the flush of his cheeks grow darker after each one until he's vulnerable and moaning and tucking his head into your neck, coming inside you a second time with a broken whimper. It hurls you towards your own edge, gripping and contracting around his length as you hold onto him for dear life.
When the moments passed, the vice grips on each other loosen, and both of you catch your breath. He doesn’t let you roll off him onto the mattress. Instead he holds you close, pressing one hand to your stomach, which still looks barely different than before, but his eyes shine as if the baby is already here. 
...
The rest of the pregnancy is blissful. It consists of buying baby items, picking out names, cleaning out Taeyong’s guest room and setting it up for the baby, though both of you know it will probably end up sleeping in your room with the guest room used for nothing other than storage. As the date approaches, Taeyong gets increasingly more anxious. You try to calm him and redirect his focus to baby proofing the entire penthouse, which works well. He’s adorable, nervous and tittering, worried if he’ll be a good enough father. You remind him again and again that he will be.
When the day finally comes and contractions erupt and you’re whisked away to the hospital, Taeyong is a mess. Jungwoo even visits to calm him down, which works. By the end of a long day, a baby girl is born. He’s absolutely enamored, and has her in his arms all night, rocking her gently, cooing and speaking soft words that have her falling quiet to listen. Sometimes, he remembers to tear his eyes away to give you a teary, beaming smile. It’s enough to make you the happiest person alive. Upon coming home, it takes many sleepless nights for you two to get the hang of it - the feeding, the crying, the burping. Within a few weeks, though, it’s a natural order, a timetable, a cycle. Tonight is one of those rare ones when you’ve miraculously gotten the baby to sleep a few hours longer. Taeyong and you relish the few moments of quiet and try to get some sleep.
“You’re a good mother, you know,” he mumbles sleepily in bed, arm thrown around your waist. “I’m glad she looks like you.”
His words envelop you in warmth. “I think she looks more like you, actually. Don’t you see her giant brown eyes that take up half her face?”
He chuckles and makes your heart flutter even after all this time. “My eyes are not that big.” 
You cup his cheek. “They are and they’re wonderful and I’m glad she has them.”
He cheeks warm under your palm. He pulls you close and kisses you. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
A high pitched, piercing cry rings out, startling you both before you’re groaning. “She gets that voice from you, though,” he says.
“She does not!” You complain. He gives you a pointed look at your near screech of protest. “Fine, maybe a little.”
He chuckles, stopping you from slipping out of bed. “I’ll get her, don’t worry. Get some sleep.” You sigh in thanks.He presses a kiss to your forehead before he’s slipping out the door. The piercing crying suddenly quiets down once his coos interrupt the noise and soon, the house is silent with no sound other than a baby’s whimpers and your husband’s soft words. 
In that moment you’re grateful for all the choices you’ve been able to make. 
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volturissideslut · 2 months
Note
Hello!! Can you please do a yandere Marcus x stubborn human reader who’s a shield like Bella so when Marcus kidnaps her, they can’t use Chelsea or Corins gifts on her and she tries to escape multiple times which increases Marcus’s anxiety about her safety so he locks her up in the tower with Sulpicia and Athenodora. She stops talking to him when he comes to visit and finally Marcus falls to his knees begging for a chance and she ignores him, so Athenodora and Sulpicia explain his past to her. She feels sad and gives him a chance in return he has to let her have her own room and not in the tower. He reluctantly agrees and she slowly becomes more affectionate with him. Maybe height difference+ cute ending🥰please ignore if you don’t like it!!! Thank you!! 🫶🏻
𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎
"I am not a bird Marcus! You cannot expect to cage me and have me stay willingly" you huff from the other side of the room at him, too angry to allow him into your space. It had been an immediate adjustment, having gone from having your own place and freedom, to being confined to the hallways of the castle, and now locked in this one teeny (roomy, but the walls became suffocating in the long hours) tower.
"I do not intend to cage you, but you are so infuriating! How is it you attempt to escape from a fortress of vampires and not be caught, just to walk around the town willy nilly? It is not safe for you to wander. It is not safe for you to leave here. I am your mate and my duty is protecting you, and so you shall remain here" his glare is cold and it makes you wonder what warmth you might have imagined in him when you first met.
"And what if i don't want to be your mate, hm? What if i'm happier gone?" A step too far perhaps. He marches from his place up to you, invading your space completely. His nose brushes against yours, and though his touch may be delicate the fury in his eyes sure isn't.
The silence is palpable, the only noise in the room being your heavy pent-up breathing. He towers above you, head tilted down, and all your eyes see is the pitch blackness of his. Oh how you've angered him.
Your mouth goes dry, tongue dropping, and heart beating. "I'm sorry Marcus, I didn't mean-"
"Don't ever doubt my intention with you, Tesoro" the pet name seems more acidic than before, yet his forehead pushes against yours oh so sweetly. "I will tear down covens to bring you joy, burn the world for your mere satisfaction. I will not risk your safety. You want out of this tower? Fine. Come back to our chambers and play by the rules." The vibration of his voice has she almost in shivers. Perhaps with brazen lust of a deeply connected fear.
Heart in throat, you nod- not once breaking eye contact with the inky black of his. "i'll come back" your voice is a whisper, delicate like this moment as you watch him physically relax. He straightens up, now towering a whole head above you. "and i don't doubt you"
And for the first time in weeks, since you first tried hopping out a window to visit some stalls, you see his face relax and a small smile grace him.
Marcus leans over, a chaste kiss pressed into your lips. "Good" his eyes close, and he lets out a silent breath of relief.
"But we should talk about assigning me a guard, so that i might be able to have some freedoms at least?"
"If that is what keeps you with me" his head is in the crook of your neck, much like an overstimulated cat hiding with their chosen person. And you let the moment last, him getting affection the two of you had starved yourselves of for a week.
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hbdttg · 2 years
Text
Part 1 / tag list below the cut
“I’m quitting,” Eddie declares, “I’m out. Call me a tree, ‘cause I’m leaving. Call me a banana, ‘cause I’m splitting. T-t-t-t-that’s all, folks!” he adds, doing his best impression of Porky Pig’s signature stammering.
Chrissy’s laser focus doesn’t stray from her monitor, even when Eddie bodily throws himself into the chair across her desk with a long, strangled groan. Wordlessly, she raises her left index finger at him in a silencing gesture. With her brows furrowed in concentration, she drags her mouse around on its pad and double-clicks something on her screen before nodding decisively to herself. After another few clicks, she finally lowers her finger, raises her eyes, and meets Eddie’s gaze.
“Would you mind grabbing what I just printed? Please?” she asks, smiling at him imploringly.
Chrissy could ask Eddie to bleach his hair and shave off an eyebrow and he’d do it. She’s actually who he has to thank for landing such a cushy job with HHH—a referral from a trusted associate like her goes a long way in a place like this.
And despite Eddie’s many complaints about becoming a corporate sellout, he can’t deny that it certainly has its perks. The office is only a ten-minute commute from his apartment, the compensation agreement he signed amounted to more money than his last two jobs combined, his benefits package is frankly ridiculous, and he gets to work with one of his best friends in the world. Overall, not a bad gig.
Even so, he makes a show of sighing, loud and longsuffering, before doing as Chrissy asks, leaving her office to grab her job off the printer. Eddie knows she works in HR and some of her stuff can get pretty confidential, so he doesn’t even try to skim the contents of the page as he walks it back over to her.
“Here,” he says, thrusting the paper at Chrissy facedown.
“Thanks!” she says. She makes no moves to take it from him. “That’s for you, actually.”
Curious, Eddie takes the paper back and flips it over. In the center of the page is a graphic of safety sign one might find in a cartoon factory, though Chrissy had edited the original from “[___] Days Since Last Accident” to “[___] Days Since Eddie Last Threatened to Quit His Job”. There’s a big red zero in the counter box.
Eddie tries to glower down at Chrissy, but it’s sort of hard to maintain when she bursts into laughter. It’s been years, but the sound of Chrissy laughing like this, all bright and breathless and unrestrained, never fails to transport him back to his (third) senior year of high school, when they first became friends over a failed drug deal.
“Don’t be cute,” Eddie says with a laughable lack of authority, dropping heavily back down into the chair.
“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Chrissy counters, brow raised archly.
Eddie rolls his eyes, crumpling the page into a ball and lobbing it in between them.
Chrissy lets the ball land harmlessly on her desk before sweeping it into the trashcan by her feet.  “Just so you know, I’ve had that saved on my desktop since Monday—and I haven’t had to edit the days count a single time.”
Eddie scoffs, but it’s hard to defend himself when this current visit marks the fifth day in a row he’s floundered into her office, vainly announcing his resignation. “Yeah, well,” he says weakly, “printing it seems like a gross misuse of company resources.”
“What are you going to do, report me?” Chrissy says with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
“Let me guess: you’re the one who receives those reports?” Eddie says dryly.
“Yep!” she says cheerfully. “Now, go on and tell me about your latest trainwreck of an interaction with Steve Harrington.”
“Christ, Chris!” Eddie hisses, leaping to his feet and immediately spinning around to check if anyone was around to hear her damning words. The coast is clear, luckily, but he still scrambles to shut her office door before falling back into his chair. “You can’t just go around saying his name all willy-nilly.”
“He’s not gonna suddenly appear if you say his name three times, Eddie. See, watch. Steve. Steve. St—”
“Don’t risk it!” Eddie squawks loudly, cutting her off.
“You’re an absolute mess,” she says through a laugh, shaking her head at him.
And well, Chrissy’s not wrong.
Eddie’s been a mess since Monday morning, when he unknowingly produced, directed, and starred in The Roast of Steve Harrington. He blames his shitty memory for forgetting what floor his new office was on—if he’d known he was sharing the elevator with someone he could have potentially worked with (let alone someone whose surname made up a third of the company name), he wouldn’t have opened his big, fat mouth in the first place.
When he finally gathered the courage to make it back down to the fifty-second floor and show his face at the HHH office, he kicked off his onboarding with Chrissy with a strangled, “I know it’s my first day and I technically just started ten minutes ago, but I quit. Thank you for the opportunity and good-bye forever.”
Chrissy, the traitor, spent a full five minutes laughing in his face over his shamefully recounted story before patting him twice on the head and informing him he wasn’t allowed to quit for at least six months. The overly saccharine tone of her voice alone told Eddie there was no room for argument there.
Still, that didn’t stop him from following her into her office after the all-hands meeting on Tuesday, all the while whining in her ear, “I can’t thrive in these conditions, Chrissy. Please, I beg of you—accept my sincere and humble resignation from this cursed hellscape.”
‘These conditions’ consisted of any rooms and/or conversations that contained Steve Harrington. Eddie hadn’t been expecting to see the guy doting over the catering when he walked into the conference room that afternoon, and he certainly wasn’t expecting his supervisor and trainer, Murray, to lead him over to Steve to introduce the two of them (though that was likely just an excuse to head straight for the sandwiches that were laid out for the meeting).
While Eddie choked on his own tongue trying to spit out some generic, inoffensive greeting, Steve merely watched him with an amused smirk before thrusting his hand out and offering a perfectly friendly “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie, I’m Steve”, as if Eddie didn’t have Steve’s name and face (and stupidly fit body—who the fuck looks that good in a pair of khakis?!) burnt into his memory from the day prior.
Afterward, Murray, who most assuredly did not have a filter of any kind, bluntly commented on Eddie’s awkwardness, then spent the next five minutes trying to determine if it was normal, strangers-meeting-for-the-first time awkwardness, or something more sensational. Eddie stubbornly kept his mouth shut until the meeting started.
Wednesday followed a similar pattern, with Eddie flouncing into Chrissy’s office with a dramatic “I choose to break my blood oath. At this point I’d welcome the sweet release of death if it meant I didn’t have to work here anymore.”
Chrissy just corrected him, patiently explaining that he was employed at-will, rather than by blood oath, and that if he left before his sixth month, she’d personally skin him alive. Eddie had to pause and weigh the pros and cons of being skinless. Surely it couldn’t be worse than his latest exchange with Steve—via email this time, mercifully.
He’d just learned how to field helpdesk tickets and received one from Steve Harrington himself. It was a simple enough software request ticket, so he assigned it to himself and replied with next steps, asking Steve for a code so he could remote into his computer and install the program.
Steve replied back, asking where he was supposed to find the code. It was an innocuous enough question, but then Eddie noticed something a little off about his email signature: his last name was bolded.
Eddie ignored it, assuming it was a stylistic choice—nothing to read into, surely—but then Steve sent another email shortly after to let him know to disregard his last email; he’d found the right app and was just waiting for it to generate a code. This time, Harrington was bolded and at least two sizes bigger than his first name.
Then, in Steve’s third email, sent not a minute later with the requested code, Harrington was bolded, two sizes bigger than his first name, and highlighted yellow—a tactic Chrissy found so hilarious that she had to shoo Eddie out of her office with tears in her eyes so that she could compose herself and actually get some work done.
Thursday was a blessed reprieve from Steve’s unique brand of psychological warfare, but Eddie still somehow managed to royally humiliate himself in front of him. After he slunk into her office and silently pushed a scribbled-on napkin across her desk—
Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as Systems Analyst II at HHH, effective immediately. Effective yesterday. In fact, I’ll pay you back the entirety of my wages earned if we just forget I ever worked here.
—Chrissy tutted at him sympathetically before taking the napkin and reaching over to dab it at the large wet stain on his shirt.
He’d been walking back to his desk from the breakroom when he rounded a corner and bumped into Steve in the hallway. Literally bumped into, bodily contact and surprised yelps and everything. And it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal, really, if not for the fact that he had a newly refilled mug of coffee in his hand.
“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”
No, Eddie wasn’t okay, because he just splashed himself with hot fucking coffee and now Steve Harrington was worriedly fussing over him and tentatively trying to mop up the liquid with his own fucking hands for some reason, and he was embarrassed (and a little turned on?) and he had to get the fuck out of there now.
“I’m okay, sorry, it’s fine—” he managed to squeak before whirling around and scurrying to the bathroom.
So yes, Eddie’s been an absolute mess the past few days, and today is no different.
…Actually, scratch that. Today is different. Today is worse.
“Okay, now spill,” Chrissy says. “What happened?”
With another drawn-out, pitiful groan, Eddie sinks down in his seat and lets his neck hang off the backrest, blinking up at the ceiling.
“Talk to me, Eds,” Chrissy says, concern starting to bleed into her voice. “If he’s actually bullying you, you can file a complaint. I have a form here somewhere.”
Eddie hears her open one of her desk drawers and reluctantly sits up. “He’s not bullying me, Mom,” he says with a huff. “We actually…we talked.”
“You talked?” Chrissy asks, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, about the elevator. Buried the hatchet and everything. I said sorry, we laughed about it, it’s over and done with.” Eddie’s gaze darts around Chrissy’s desk, searching for something to distract him from the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in his stomach at the memory of their conversation.
“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!” Chrissy says cheerfully. “But wait, if you two are good now…”
Eddie doesn’t want her to ask what she’s about to ask, because the answer might be more embarrassing than all of his other Steve stories combined.
“Why are you still going on about quitting?”
Eddie drops his face into his hands, feeling totally and utterly pathetic. “Um, because I think I’m sort of, kind of, just a little bit…in love with him?”
-------------------------------------
tbh I didn’t think I’d be writing a second part, but if strangers on the internet validate me enough, I guess I’ll do anything~
Y’ALL. I’m blown away by the response to part one of this silly lil au. I didn’t reply to any of the lovely comments or tags, but please know if you engaged in any way (or even if you just read the fic and snorted a little through your nose at a bit you found funny) I love you with my entire heart and you’ve made my entire life.
[Now for the tag list, which I’ve never done before. Sorry if you didn’t actually want to be on here! Or, sorry if you’re stumbling upon this post on your own after asking to be tagged and I missed you oops.]
@messrs-weasley @n0-1-important @bornonthesavage @thing-a-ling @eddiemunsonswife @changenamelater @ispyblu @thesuninyaface
@invisibleflame812 @4nemo1egend @ikolanatari @mavernanche @songbird-garden @trashpocket @original-cypher @over7joyed 
@commonxsenss @justdyingontheinside @mojowitchcraft @maya-custodios-dionach @justmiiriam @imzadidragonfly @lillemilly @gay-stranger-things @child-of-cthulhu @bleedingoptimism @lemanzanabizarra @melaniehere91
@iswearitsjustme @silver-snaffles @csinnamon-fox @paint-music-with-me @epicsteddieficrecs @sweetcreaturetm @hxneyfarms @bossyknow-it-all @vecnuthy @stevethehairington @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @nburkhardt
@gayngerthings @patchworkgargoyle @violetsteve @henderdads @2btheanswertothequestion
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keiriiz · 5 months
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Chrollo Relationship/Romantic Headcanons
Now for these headcanons, this is where my opinion might really differ from the rest of you guys. Of course this isn’t all but just some of my favorites. I will be putting a clear NSFW warning for when I start to talk about him in bed. 🔞
I do want to add that some of my headcanons would change depending on his partner. If they’re a Nen-user or not, exactly what their ability is, if they’re in the Phantom Troupe, and how long he’s known them, etc. These are just as neutral as possible haha. Even some of what I say here contradicts how I’ve written him in certain ships because I knew exactly how he would act for those specific love interests.
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✥ Right of the bat, Chrollo is bi-romantic, having very little preference of gender when it comes to his s/o. And sexuality wise, he’s definitely on the demisexual spectrum.
✥ Chrollo never really planned on being in a long term relationship or ever settling down with someone when he created the Phantom Troupe. It was just another aspect of life he was prepared to sacrifice. So giving a genuine relationship a shot he’d have to really love the other person.
✥ It would take forever for Chrollo to actually recognize he was feeling romantic attraction to another person as the entire thing is foreign to him.
✥ This man’s charisma goes out the drain when trying to flirt with someone he’s genuinely interested it. Tapping his fingers as a stim while he awkwardly flirts. It’s painfully adorable.
✥ Before making things official, he may do extensive research on his s/o. Background checks, verifying friends and family members, overall borderline stalking. It’s a safety measure. He doesn’t want to risk falling for someone who works for an opposing group or who might betray him.
✥ In a relationship, his s/o would be a source of comfort, especially if the relationship is long term. He’ll relax in their arms after a heist or cuddle up to them when he has a nightmare.
✥ I said in my last post but I’ll say it again here. Chrollo is a little spoon!
✥ It’s not too often Chrollo will verbally tell someone he loves them, his main ways of showing affection are quality time, and gift giving. And for his special someone, he wouldn’t just give them random things willy-nilly, he’d put thought behind each one. Say his partner mentions needing new shoes because their current ones are really worn out. You bet next time Chrollo sees them he’s bringing two pairs of brand new shoes.
✥ He loves to be able to lay his head in his s/o’s lap and have them play with his hair while he reads. He might even purr if given the right setting.
✥ Chrollo can be touch avoidant in general. If anyone touches him and he hasn’t given that person mental permission he will move away, shudder even. So if he’s actually allowing another in his space it really is a sign of fondness.
✥ This man definitely takes notes from romance novels he’s read when it comes to dates with someone he’s head over heels for. It can be cheesy.
✥ Chrollo isn’t a chef by any means but on occasion he’ll attempt to cook for his s/o when staying in. Might as well put some of his cook books to use after all.
✥ The times Chrollo is with his partner, things can be quite pleasant. However he can still be emotionally distant. He often wonders what he did to deserve all of this. To be able to love and be loved. It’s a mental battle he might struggle with quite often in the relationship and he wouldn’t be too open to communicating that, leaving his s/o confused. Just some general reassurance could go a long ways.
✥ I feel like a lot of people go for the idea that he’d like others with similar interests or are like him in general, and I could see potential in that mindset however I much prefer the “opposites attract” trope. I think Chrollo might have a bigger interest in someone different than him who can really show a different perspective on certain things. Or even test his mindset and show him new interests.
✥ He’s protective of his s/o, knowing with the life he has, anyone might try to hurt them to get to him so Chrollo wouldn’t be one to really “show off” his partner unfortunately. They relationship could be pretty private.
✥ Assuming his s/o isn’t in the Troupe, Chrollo may ghost them while he’s away on the job. He’ll let them know he’s working, but no calls or texts while he’s away. He won’t even give a location. He wants to keep his personal life separate and doesn’t want to risk revealing to an enemy his relationship or possibly get distracted.
NSFW BELOW ‼️
✥ Before the relationship, Chrollo didn’t really like sex (as I mentioned him being demi), he viewed the act as a chore used on jobs to get information and didn’t find it all that gratifying.
✥ With his s/o, Chrollo much prefers to make love as opposed to casual sex. He likes the intimacy of being with someone he truly loves and not just an act of pleasure.
✥ He prefers bottoming though is open to being a verse. Acting as Boss all the time he really just likes to relax in his personal life so in all honesty it wouldn’t be rare to catch him being a pillow prince in bed.
✥ Chrollo’s not the biggest cock wise, probably just reaching average. He’s uncut being from Meteor City but trust and believe he keeps that shit clean with his pubic hair trimmed.
✥ He’ll almost never out right ask for sex, he’s honestly fine if his partner doesn’t have any interest in the act either. Though if they make a move he’s more than happy for a session.
✥ He’s got VERY sensitive nipples. Give them a little tug with your teeth and he’ll mewl.
✥ Aftercare is always a given between him and his s/o. If Chrollo just got done bottoming, cuddles and praise are a must. He’d especially melt if given a massage.
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bunnliix · 7 months
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Can't Stay Away from You - Chapter Two
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The outline for this chapter, was over 2000 words, so as you can see, I had ideas lol. We get a bit more attention on the boys this chapter, but we do see what's up with y/n as well! Honestly, this series seems to be longer chapters, so the updates will be slower for this story. But either way, I hope this is an enjoyable chapter two!
masterlist
word count: 5.7k
warnings: Angst, fluff eventually, protective members, scenting, scent highs, cute moments because yes we need it, multiple distressed and panicked people, crying, tears, I think that's it?
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“Why did you ever think it was a good idea to give her, a random Stay, your number? What in the world compelled you to think it was a good idea?! She could have been a sasaeng for all we know, and you just gave her your number all willy nilly?!” Minho just about exploded on the pack alpha, criticizing his frankly stupid decision.
“You know very well that we’re all pulled to her for some reason. Hell, my alpha wanted to grab her, pull her into my arms, and scent her, right in front of every fan in that room. And I’m pretty fucking sure that everyone else felt something similar to that. So don’t you criticize me on this Minho. I thought about it before I gave her my number. I took a chance, wanting to get to know that girl who captivated even you. Don’t think I didn’t see you watching her after your turn, I saw it all.” Chan went after Minho, feeling enraged after hearing the man’s words.
By the end of his words, Chan was chest to chest with Minho, almost ready to fight with him. Minho is ready to fight his pack alpha, wanting to get it into his thick head how much he could have risked their pack’s safety over this. 
“Do you realize how badly this could have gone?! We’re lucky that she hasn’t yet done something. She could post your number out into the world for all we know. And yet you’re standing here, telling me it’s worth it because she interests you? I thought my pack leader, and the leader of my group, was more responsible than that.” Minho said, his words cutting like knives.
A noise at the door stopped their conversation, Minho moving to open the door, their two omegas falling onto the floor. The two of them looked sheepishly up at their alphas, knowing they were caught in the worst way. The two alphas weren’t impressed, as the omegas knew better than to eavesdrop, and they raised an eyebrow at the two until the apologies came rolling in. 
“And you two were listening in, why?” Chan questioned them, as they looked down at the floor.
“Jagiya dragged you in here, and we were curious why he needed to talk to you so urgently.” Han answered Chan, before looking up at him. “Do you really have y/n’s number??” He hurried to ask, even though it meant Minho gave him a look for asking at all.
“Yah! That’s what you gained from listening in? That Christopher has the girl’s number?” Minho scolded the younger man.
“Well, yeah. It means we can talk with her!” Jisung says, completely ignoring Minho’s growing glare.
“I am surrounded by fucking idiots I swear.” Minho comments, voice and face giving away just how done he was with the alpha and omega pair. 
Felix wisely stayed quiet, hoping that he’d be forgotten about. Unfortunately, that was not going to happen, as both alphas turned to him. 
“How much did you hear?” Chan asked.
“I heard everything.” Felix answered, hoping that the less he gave away, the better off he’d be. Once again, he was wrong.
“Where do you stand on this, then?” Minho queried.
“I can’t say that I’m not excited that Chan has y/n’s number, but also I can understand your concerns, Minho-hyung.” Felix explains, feeling torn between both sides. 
Chan smirked triumphantly, as Minho sighed. Why are his packmates like this? His own alpha told him that he’s the same way, that he’s being a hypocrite. He shut out his wolf, focusing back on the present situation. 
Since he didn’t get scolded for his words, Felix decided to be a bit cheeky. He teased Minho about his reaction to the girl, before getting stuck in a headlock by the alpha. 
“I’m not wrong!” He shouted out. Minho only growls in response.
This triggers Han to laugh, before running out of the room, calling out that the great alpha Minho was interested in y/n too, no matter what he said to oppose that thought. Said alpha let Felix go and ran after the other omega, intent on murdering him. 
“You little shit, get back here!” He screamed out at the rapper, chasing after him.
“I don’t think so!” Han called back, a cheeky smile plastered on his face. The other observed this chase and laughed at the two of them. This was prime entertainment, after all. Felix and Chan made their way out to the living room, where the majority of the pack had settled, watching the alpha omega pair race around the house in a very scooby doo sort of fashion. 
Eventually Jisung was cornered by the older alpha, and was swiftly pushed up against a wall. Minho attacked the omega’s scent gland, Jisung quickly went into a scent high, going limp in the alpha’s arms. Minho smirked victoriously, bringing the now quiet omega over to sit down on the couch, keeping him in his lap. Seungmin emerged from his room, the last member to join them all in the living room.
“Well, I guess we might as well have the pack meeting now.” Chan piped up, all attention turning to him. 
“What about?” Seungmin asked.
“About y/n.” Chan quickly replied, and that got everyone’s attention. The boys’ attention was solely focused on their pack alpha, well besides Jisung whose head was resting on Minho’s shoulder, the omega still a melted puddle.
The boys started to get louder, each discussing about y/n, before Chan shushed them all. 
“During the fanmeet, I gave y/n my number when signing her album. She messaged me while we were on the way back here. I confirmed it’s actually her, and I know that all of us were interested in her, I could tell by how none of you could shut up about her on the drive home.” He told them, and they all started clamoring for her number.
“Yah! Shut up!” Minho interjected, and they all quickly settled as none of them wanted to earn the man’s ire. 
Chan continued once the noise level had dropped, “My alpha also is attracted to her, at the fansign, it wanted me to pull her into my arms and scent her, everyone else be damned. I know Minho’s alpha was behaving similarly.”
Minho sighed as all attention was directed to him. “My alpha didn’t want to let her go. And wanted to take her and keep her in our nest. And he wouldn’t shut up about how pretty Felix and her would look together in our nest.” He spoke.
This admission from the dancer caused a round of teasing by the rest of the pack. They teased him and his alpha for wanting to essentially kidnap a fan because she was so pretty. Felix sat there blushing, the thought of y/n and him in a nest together painted a pretty picture in his mind, leaving him desiring for that to happen.
Fairly quickly afterwards, the remainder of the boys also speak up about their feelings, except for Han, but Felix shares the other omega’s feelings in his stead. They all found that if their wolves hadn’t outright talked about her, that they at least felt drawn or pulled to her. 
Changbin quickly brought the conversation back around to Chan having her number, which then brought back the clamoring by the others, bar Minho and Han, for their leader to pass on her number to them. Chan sternly told them that he would have to get her permission first before he would even think of handing out her number, which then spurs on calls for him to text her right then and there to ask, as well as a couple of pouts at Chan not immediately giving her number.
The leader sighed, before pulling his phone out and pulling up their texts. 
‘Hey there. So the others found out that I have your number, and they want it as well. I won’t pass it on to them unless I have your express permission to do so.’ He texted y/n.
It took a minute before she responded, and by the time she did, the boys had crowded around him and his phone. 
‘That’s fine! You can give it to them, I don’t mind.’ She replied to him.
“Oh! Ask her if we can have a group chat too!!” Hyunjin shouted out, making Changbin and Felix cover their ears.
‘And I have been asked to ask you if you’re okay with a group chat with the whole group.’ He passed on the question to her.
‘That’s okay with me as well. I assume it was Felix who wanted it? Or Han?’ She asked him.
‘Hyunjin, actually.’ He texted.
‘Ahhh, that would have been my third guess.’ She replied, and he laughed.
Hyunjin pouted, as did Felix, at being so predictable.
Chan quickly created a group chat, adding y/n to it last. As he predicted, the chat quickly fell into chaos. The boys all wanted her attention, and he had to step in to tell them to cool it, both by text and verbally. There were more pouts this time, the boys unhappy about being scolded. 
Since the industry has a habit of not disclosing the idol’s designations to fans since that incident at the fansign, and the pack of boys not knowing what y/n’s designation is, that’s the first thing after introductions to be discussed. Y/n is the first to spill, telling them that she is an omega, to which Felix chimed in as well. Though he already knew that, and was trying to cover up for the growing pool of guilt in his stomach at hiding it. Chan tells her that Han is the other omega of their group. Changbin, Hyunjin and Sungmin all tell her that they’re the betas, Seungmin noting afterwards that he’s the pack beta. This left Jeongin, Minho and Chan as the alphas, with Chan specifying that he’s the pack alpha. 
Y/n was thankful to know what each of the boys was, and now knows why she probably felt the most at ease with Chan, Han and Felix, with two of them being fellow omegas and one being a pack alpha. They start to discuss other topics, though the maknaes try to persuade her to reveal who her bias was, but she kept her mouth shut on that matter. They move on to getting to know her, 20 questions style but really, it was just them asking her questions instead of her asking them any questions.
During all of this, Chan notes that Felix is unusually quiet, which is odd because of how excited he was only five minutes prior. He’s usually the big texting person in the group, and yet he’s barely texting at all, just staring down at his phone. 
Felix is feeling the guilt settle in his chest, weighing him down almost. He can’t push himself to be part of the conversation, only staring down at his phone, slowly drifting away from reality. He can’t help but feel guilty, he ran away from her, and his omega had been berating him for his actions since then. He only jolted back into reality when Chan reached out to shake him, asking if he was okay. The freckled Aussie fakes a smile and tells his alpha that he’s fine. He knew he had to come clean, there was no other way around it. It wasn’t fair to keep her in the dark about this, but it also wouldn’t be fair to drop this over text.
Before he can regret it, he texted her in the group chat, ‘Are you free to call? There’s something you need to know.’ 
This set the pack into pandemonium, thinking that Felix was going to tell her about their feelings. Chan and Minho reach out for his phone, but the omega moves faster, moving out of everyone’s reach. 
A ding was heard as she replied, ‘I’m free right now, Felix. What’s up?’ 
Deciding to just call her instantly, to avoid himself backing out, and to keep the others away from him.
“Hey Felix, what’s up? What did you wanna talk about?” She asked him as soon as she picked up.
“I knew you were an omega.” He blurted out.
“How? You shouldn’t have been able to tell at the fansign, not with my scent covered.” She replied, confused at how he knew.
“I met you before the fansign, actually.” He admitted to her, and the others.
“I think I would have known if we met.” She started, before going silent.
“Y/n?” Felix tentatively called out to the omega over the phone.
“No, we couldn’t have. That was you?” He hears her say, both to him and to herself. 
“It was me. I’m sorry for what I did.” He told her.
“Felix-” She started, but he interrupted her.
“I’m sorry for bumping into you, and I’m so sorry that I ran away. My omega’s been berating me for it since I ran. I figured I’d never run into you again, but then you turned up at the fansign and when you didn’t recognize me, I thought that I just had to get through it and it would all be okay.” He apologized, and explained to the best of his ability.
His heart dropped as he heard a tiny gasp before a sob was heard from her side of the call. He hadn’t meant to make her cry, it was the last thing he had meant to happen. The others hear the sob and it’s enough to shock Han out of his scent high, his instincts on alert almost immediately.
“I didn’t say anything at the fansign because I didn’t think it was a good place to do so, nevermind the backlash that either of us may have faced. I had such a good time talking to you I swear. My omega’s honestly been yearning for you since yesterday, and I’m sorry I was cowardly and ran away. I was just so overwhelmed by everything I was feeling and my omega’s thoughts and urges and I couldn’t think of anything else to do but to run. I’m sorry y/n, for the hurt I caused you. I only hope you can forgive me.” He further explained, hoping that she would accept his apology, but know full well that she didn’t have to. Tears running out of his eyes by the end of his little speech. 
The rest of the pack could only watch on, concerned about both omega’s but unsure of whether to intervene at all. 
“Thank you for telling me, Felix. And thank you for apologizing. In the vein of being honest, after you ran, I went back to the hotel yesterday, because I had been overcome with a feeling of loneliness, and sadness. I made up a nest and after getting in it, I cried myself to sleep almost. My omega cried out for you, she was the most hurt by your actions.” Y/n admitted to not only Felix, but the rest of the boys unknowingly. 
Felix started sobbing, as did y/n. Both omega’s feeling great amounts of sadness, and each feeding off of the other’s emotions. Chan decided it was time to step in, pulling Felix in close and hugging the younger man, taking the phone from his hand and handing it off to Minho as the alpha stepped closer, Han by his side. The other omega wrapped his arms around Felix, providing further comfort.
“Y/n? This is Minho. Can I ask for more details?” The elder alpha asked the girl.
She explained from the beginning, going over the two omega’s first encounter, and ending it with what she had said before, about falling asleep in her nest due to her emotions overtaking her. She told him that she had no idea it was Felix, that for all she knew, it was just a random stranger who smelled amazing, but had just run out of the blue. 
As she continued to talk to Minho, her sentences eventually devolved into sobs and cries instead, fearing that she hurt Felix. Her sobs continued, worrying Minho that she’d start to hyperventilate and pass out because of it. He started to try and calm her over the phone, looking over to see that most of the group had crowded around Felix, trying to calm the omega down, though it wasn’t working. 
Y/n could barely hear Minho’s voice, her sobs having grown louder as she tugged at her shirt, whining and crying that she had made Felix upset. She hadn’t wanted to do that, and she wished she could take back what she said. She curled in on herself, her omega feeling as sad as she was, neither of them wanted this to happen. Her scent soured, smelling bitter now, instead of sweet like it normally did.
Minho called out to the omega, “Y/n? Can you hear me?” 
He only received a whine in reply, but it was better than nothing. 
“Omega, I need you to verbally answer me.” He told her, not wishing to call her that, but knowing it will help bring her back at least slightly.
“Can hear ya.” He heard her mumble.
“Good omega.” He praised her. “Thank you for answering me.”
He doesn’t think she’s going to fully calm down soon, and he’s worried about her dropping, so decided that he needed to go see her. He asked her where her hotel was, receiving the name of a hotel, which he was able to discover wasn’t far from their dorm. He told her to stay calm for him and to keep breathing. 
He caught Chan’s attention, the pack alpha motioning for him to come closer. 
“I’m going to see y/n, she’s in as much distress as he is right now. I’m worried she’ll pass out.” He says quietly, trying not to let the others hear, though his effort is for naught.
Felix and Hyunjin whined at what they overheard, the omega of the two freaking out further that the other omega was in distress because of him, enough so that she might pass out. Felix himself started to hyperventilate, worrying about y/n getting hurt while she’s all alone.
“Alpha, protect omega?” He managed to get out, directing it at Minho.
“We’re gonna protect you baby, don’t worry.” Chan reassured him.
“Not ‘mega, pretty ‘mega.” Tears welled up in Felix’s eyes as they weren’t understanding him. 
“I’m going to go help pretty ‘mega, okay kitten?” Minho said, running his hands through Felix’s hair, pushing his bangs back as he did so.
Felix nodded, before devolving into further worry, his omega taking over at that point. Tears were falling at a fast pace down the blue haired omega’s cheeks and his distressed scent almost made the others choke. Finally, to calm him down and having no other option, Chan scruffed the younger Aussie, causing him to go limp in the leader’s arms. Han grabs Seungmin, and the two start scenting their omega, trying to bring back that happy citrusy scent that they know and love.
Chan motions for Minho to go see y/n, or they’ll be dealing with a distressed omega all night.
“Go on, go see her. Take Hyunjin with you.” Chan ordered the two of them.
They quickly threw their shoes back on, taking the minimum they needed to get out the door. Hyunjin pulled his phone out, getting directions to her hotel. They hurried down the streets to her hotel, somewhat relieved that they made it there in under 20 minutes. 
They rushed into the hotel lobby, y/n having given her room number prior to them leaving the dorm thankfully. They pushed the button for her room, but of course they weren’t alone in the elevator, and it seemed that people had to stop and get out on every single floor. Finally they arrived on her floor, running down the hall to find her room, Hyunjin finding it first.
Minho knocked on the door gently, but loud enough that y/n could hear it. They heard noise from inside the room, before the door slowly opened. Y/n looked a mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen red eyes from crying. She was still having trouble regulating her breathing, her breath hitching and shaking as she looked up at them. 
“Hi.” She said, barely louder than a whisper. 
Minho, on pure instinct, picked her up and carried her in his arms, one hand pushing her head into his neck and scent gland, letting her scent him if she wanted to. He brought her to her nest in the bed, laying her in it as he stayed outside of it. He looked at her for permission to enter her nest, and she quickly granted it. He crawled into bed almost instantaneously, pulling the omega into his lap and wrapping his arms around her. He rocked her back and forth, letting her scent him as much as she needed. Minho was just there to comfort her without judgment, as she cried into his shoulder. He softly cooed and whispered comforting words to her, telling her that Felix was fine, that the others were with him and that he would be fine, just as she would be fine.
Hyunjin was waiting outside the nest, knowing better than to climb inside without the omega’s permission. At that point, y/n had calmed down quite a bit, and had taken to scenting Minho, which Hyunjin knew the alpha would never let strangers do. Yet here he was, allowing her to do what she needed for comfort. It really did prove that connection they all felt, that the older alpha willingly left Felix in distress to come and see y/n, and even was acting on instinct to calm an omega he had only met briefly hours earlier. 
Minho caught y/n’s attention, pointing to the beta who was waiting. She immediately made grabby hands for the tall dancer, who smiled as he climbed into the nest.
“Hello little omega.” He cooed in greeting, getting a smile and a blush in response.
“Hiii beta.” She said, before hiding her face in Minho’s shoulder, to which the two men chuckled. 
Hyunjin moved close to her, rubbing her back softly. Her scent was still soured, which worried the two of them. It meant that she still hadn’t fully come back from her distress, or was hiding how bad it was. Except for the fact that scents never lied, so the two of them changed positions, laying down in the nest on their sides facing each other, with y/n in the middle of them. They took turns scenting her and trying to get her scent to brighten up. 
“It’s okay, omega. Everyone’s okay, no one’s upset or mad, you’ve done nothing wrong. Your feelings are valid, and we can talk everything out with Felix later, okay? But we need you to feel better first. We can’t have a sad omega, hmm?” Minho continued to reassure her, telling her that Felix would be distressed to see her like this.
Sometime after they arrived, y/n’s scent finally started to smell better, sweeter. Hyunjin’s beta and Minho’s alpha can’t get enough of her scent, the sweet honey and vanilla was so delicious. The boys felt the same way, the two of them chuffing in happiness. This was all strangely intimate for three people who had only met hours earlier, but there was a sense of rightness as they all laid together. It felt like this is what they should be doing, like they were just laying with another one of their packmates, not an omega they had met that day. 
Y/n’s omega was purring in happiness at being in between the alpha and beta. Her omega was loving this, even if it only happened because of a bad situation. The happier she gets, the more delectable her scent gets, and soon enough, the boys can’t help themselves. The two of them descend on her scent glands, attacking them in order to get more of that pretty scent to come out and their wolves want to smell like her, want her pretty omega scent all over them, as a claim of sorts. This attack almost causes y/n to go into a scent high, thankfully for her, they get interrupted before that happens.
Minho picked up her phone to see Chan calling her. He answered, “Hello Channie alpha.” 
“Hello Minho. How is y/n doing? Is she feeling better? I tried to get a hold of both of you, but neither you nor Hyunjin answered.” Chan questioned him, concerned. 
“We’ve taken good care of her, she’s feeling better now.” Minho replied.
“Y/n’s okay? She’s really okay?” Felix’s voice comes through the phone.
Y/n took this as her time to speak up. “I’m okay, Felix. I promise. Are you okay too, sunshine?” She turned the questions back on him.
“I’m okay, I promise!” He told her, wanting her to not be concerned about him.
The two omegas started chatting on other topics, but before long, Chan interrupted them and told them to save the conversation for another time. They both pouted, the respective boys on either side chuckling at their expressions. 
“Minho, Hyunjin, what are your plans now? Are you returning to the dorm now?” He broached the topic of what they would do, now that y/n’s been calmed down.
Hyunjin speaks up first, “Can we bring her back with us? Don’t want to leave her here alone.” Minho hummed in agreement.
Their wolves were insistent on not leaving her here by herself. What if she got distressed again, and they weren’t here to soothe her? That couldn’t be allowed. 
“We want her to come back with us. Omega shouldn’t be left alone.” Minho affirmed Hyunjin’s words. 
The use of omega tipped off Chan that Minho was not fully in control at the moment. That made him concerned, and their insistence really shocked the others, not expecting them to want to bring her back. 
Well, everyone except for Han, he wasn’t shocked that they were behaving like this. Han knew that there was something about her that pulled them in, and he was fully on board with her coming to their dorm. If Minho’s alpha was that protective over her, he knew that she was safe to be around. The man’s alpha is protective over his pack, and he’d never let anyone in that he deemed a threat. Plus, his alpha was right, when he said she’d look cute in their nest. He wanted that too, wanted her and Felix in the nest. She’d be their little omega, that they’d keep safe, and by Felix’s concern, he thought the same. 
“I want her here. Minho-jagi, bring her please.” The quokka-cheeked man spoke up, to everyone’s surprise. Thankfully, no one protested it, and Chan gave in, saying she could come and stay the night, to a round of cheers.
Chan sighed, before calling out to y/n, asking her, “Y/n, do you want to come here and stay with us for the night? You can say no, and I will come and get the boys. But you are welcome here if you want that.”
Y/n nodded, forgetting that Chan couldn’t see her nod. 
Minho caught her attention, “Omega, we need a verbal answer.”
She blushes in embarrassment, “I’d like that.” 
Honestly, she’s still in shock about it all, from getting Chan’s number to now laying here in between two-thirds of Danceracha, and she’s about to go back with them to their dorm. What is this life she’s living right now?
Her omega was thinking about getting to smell Felix’s sweet citrusy smell again. Plus the floral scents coming from Hyunjin, and what she could only think of as a clean laundry scent from Minho. Her omega is increasingly pleased with her situation, knowing that she wanted these boys as her pack, even if y/n hadn’t gotten to that point yet.
After confirming that they’d be heading back to the dorm soon with y/n in tow, Chan hung up. Hyunjin jumped into action, finding a bag of hers, and then heading into her bathroom to collect anything from there that she might need for the night. He found a bag for her hygiene and makeup items in the bathroom, and filled that up, before placing it in the large bag he found. He then moved out back into the main room, looking up at her and asking what he needed to pack for her.
Minho sat the two of them up as she directed him on what to pack, and Hyunjin dutifully followed her orders. Once he had everything, he brought the bag over for her to double check, looking happy once she approved, glad to be of service to the omega. Minho looked at him, pride in his eyes as he looked at the beta, a silent ‘good job’ mouthed to the younger dancer.
Leaving the bag on the bed, he went to find her shoes, as Minho moved them closer to the edge of the nest and bed. Hyunjin came back with her sneakers, and knelt down in front of her. He carefully put her shoes on her feet, the omega looking down at him with slight wonder in her eyes at how sweet the two of them were being. Once he had finished lacing up her shoes, he stood up and stepped back, grabbing her overnight bag in the process.
Minho moved her off his lap, before he slid off of the bed, immediately turning around to reach his hands out for her. She took them, and he helped her slide off the bed as well, landing softly on the ground, as if she was farther off the ground than the couple inches between her feet and the bed. Hyunjin hurried back over to the door, grabbing her coat off the hanger, and helping her into it. The two idols donned masks, and handed her one as well that they nicked on their way out as an extra for themselves. She put it on to conceal her face. They left the hotel room, but not before making sure y/n had the keys to her room.
They quickly rode back down the elevator and left the hotel, starting their journey back home. They two men knew where they were going, and each of them holding her hand, they led her down the streets until they approached the building their dorm was in. Heading up the lift to their floor, the doors opened and they hurried to their apartment. They arrived at the boys’ dorm, but before they could open the door, it opened for them, an excited Han on the other side. 
“You’re here! Come in come in!” He nearly shouted, causing the others to come rushing to the entryway as well, Chan and Felix pushing their way to the front. The two Aussie’s kept everyone back so that the three of them could enter the apartment. The boys took off their shoes, as y/n followed them in doing so. 
Once everyone’s shoes were off, Minho grabbed y/n’s hand and pulled her with him to the living room. He sat down on one of the couches, pulling her down next to him. Felix claimed the spot on her other side, as Han pouted, before he sat down in front of her. That didn’t stop him from complaining about how unfair it was, to the others’ amusement. 
They all started chatting, in an effort to make y’n feel more comfortable in their presence. It worked, to their delight, and she quickly loosened up and joined the conversations. They talked about anything and everything, though the older boys had a lot of fun telling her embarrassing stories about the younger four boys, who retaliated by telling her the same kinds of stories about their elders. This caused her to laugh until her sides hurt, before chiming in with a couple stories of her own. 
Eventually, more yawns than words were coming out of y/n’s mouth, and the eldest two took this as a sign that the small omega needed sleep. 
“I think it’s time for some sleep, yeah?” Chan said as he came up to her, Han had moved out of the way so he could get closer. 
Y/n nodded sleepily, having a harder time keeping herself upright. Chan, after getting verbal confirmation that it was okay to pick her up, did so, before taking her to their pack nest, and laying her in the middle of it. The two omegas hopped in after her, softly talking with her and removing anything on her person that might make sleeping hard. Once they were finished, and moved anything out of the nest, they settled in on either side of her, keeping her between them. 
The three betas climbed into the nest next, Hyunjin on the other side of Felix, while Changbin and Seungmin stayed on Han’s side of the nest. Jeongin slipped in behind Seungmin with Chan capping off that side of the nest, as Minho slid in behind Hyunjin, reaching over him to feel Felix and y/n as much as he could. 
With how many happy and content scents there were surrounding the omegas, it didn’t take long before the three were out cold. The three betas quickly followed, Changbin being the last of the three to fall asleep, watching the younger ones succumb to sleep first before he could. Minho was next, looking at Chan before nuzzling into Hyunjin’s neck and peacefully falling into the hands of sleep, and Chan took one more look around, his alpha being the happiest at seeing all of them safe here in the nest, before he too slipped into dreamland. The dorms were finally quiet, and the nine of them were safe in the nest, where they couldn’t be harmed.
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yesihaveaobsession · 2 days
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Enchanted Encounters
Alastor x female witch! reader
Summary: With Alastor knowing the effect he has on the pretty witch (you) he has to get a potion for Charlie, but you don't like giving your potions out willy nilly, so Alastor has to charm it out of you.
A/N- I love writing alastor x female witch reader stories 🫶✨️- enjoyyy!!
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Your fingers danced over the tiny vials of ingredients for potions in your little nook. The scent of herbs and magical items filled the air, creating an inviting and slightly intoxicating atmosphere. As you began to arrange items for one of your latest creations, searching for a specific ingredient, you felt the familiar chill that signaled his presence—Alastor’s.
"Ah, my favorite witch!" His voice was warm, the ever-present static hum of his magic crackling faintly. He stood in the doorway of your little coven, a grin spreading across his face, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. "What delightful brews do we have today?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his grin widening just enough to make your heart race.
You turned to see him, his tall form casually leaning against the doorframe, his posture relaxed yet commanding. Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, those deep red eyes pinning you in place like always. You felt the familiar heat creeping up on your cheeks, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't keep the smile from pulling at your lips.
You liked him, and he knew it—oh, did he know it. He played his cards right, never putting in much effort yet managing to have you wrapped around his finger. But he still tried, still teased, and still enjoyed every second of the hold he had over you.
"Just some simple potions," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you busied yourself with your ingredients. "Nothing you'd find particularly interesting."
Alastor chuckled, the sound rich and melodic, as he stepped inside the coven, his movements smooth and deliberate. The room seemed smaller as he approached. "Oh, but I find everything you do interesting, my dear," he said, running a long finger along the edge of your counter before picking up a shimmering vial filled with vibrant blue liquid. He raised it to eye level, inspecting it with a curious glint. "What's this one? A love potion, perhaps?" His eyebrows lifted in mock intrigue, the corners of his mouth quirking up playfully.
You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you glanced up from your cauldron. He was close now—too close. His tall, slim frame loomed just inches from yours, the scent of something warm and familiar, like old vinyl and dark wood, filling the space between you. Your heart pounded, and though you tried to focus on the ingredients before you, your eyes kept drifting back to him.
"No, it’s just—" you started, but your voice faltered.
"Just what?" he interrupted, his grin widening as he leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief. "A little something to make someone fall in love with you?" His voice dropped, the teasing lilt in his tone only making you more flustered. His crimson eyes danced with amusement as they roamed over your face, clearly enjoying your reaction.
You tried to regain control, focusing on the cauldron. "It’s nothing of the sort," you muttered, hoping your voice didn’t betray the fluttering in your chest.
Alastor’s smirk deepened as he straightened slightly, still holding the vial between his fingers, which tapped lightly against the glass. His gaze never left yours, as though he could see every thought flitting through your mind. "You know," he began, leaning casually against the edge of the counter, “it’s quite dangerous to wield such power alone. Perhaps you’d be better off with a... partner in crime?” His voice dripped with suggestion, the words rolling off his tongue as smooth as silk.
Your heart stuttered, and you barely managed to choke out a response. "Partner in crime?"
"Indeed," he purred, taking another slow, deliberate step forward. His face was inches from yours now, his eyes slightly hooded as his smile curled into something more intimate. "Imagine the chaos we could create together." His voice was a low murmur, a quiet promise of trouble.
The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the subtle static that accompanied him buzzing just under the surface of your skin. Every instinct in you screamed to look away, but you couldn’t. The way he looked at you, so intensely yet playfully, made your pulse race even faster.
A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you forced yourself to look down, attempting to regain your composure. "I can handle things on my own, thank you very much."
Alastor chuckled again, a deep, velvety sound that sent a shiver up your spine. "Oh, I do find that adorable," he said, stepping back with a dramatic flourish, his grin never faltering. "But I actually need a potion for Charlie. She likes you best, you know."
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you regarded him skeptically. “And why should I help you with that? I wasn’t planning on giving her anything today.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re mistaken,” he replied smoothly, his voice light yet persuasive. "If you have something that could be useful, why not share it? Think of the... enchanting effects it could have—on both of us." His smile widened, his eyes flickering with amusement as he trailed his fingers lazily over the edge of your counter, letting them linger there.
With a huff, you brushed past him, feeling the brief warmth of his arm as yours grazed it. His smile grew even wider, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Excuse me," you muttered, reaching for a jar of herbs on the nearby shelf. You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, watching your every movement with that predatory gaze.
He leaned in slightly, his voice a low murmur that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. "You know, your potions are far more effective when shared with someone you have... chemistry with." His words were teasing, but there was an edge of something deeper, something darker, in his tone.
Ignoring him—at least, trying to—you focused on your work, your hands trembling slightly as you grabbed another vial from the shelf. Alastor’s presence loomed just behind you, his gaze practically burning holes into your back.
"You know," he mused, his voice soft yet insistent, "I can’t help but admire how fiercely you pretend not to be affected by me. It’s quite charming." His fingers danced over an old bookshelf, brushing away a layer of dust as he continued to observe you, his gaze never wavering.
“I’m not pretending,” you said, biting your lip to keep your voice steady. “I just have better things to focus on.”
“Oh? Like avoiding my gaze?” he teased, his voice filled with laughter. "It’s a challenge for you, isn’t it? I do love a good challenge."
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing as you moved around the room, purposefully keeping your back to him. Every time you tried to focus on your potions, you could feel his presence looming just behind you, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.
“I must say,” he continued, his voice light and teasing, “the way you avoid me only makes me want to tease you more. It’s like a delightful game.”
Finally, you turned to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. "You think you’re funny, don’t you?"
"Funny? No, darling," he said, taking a slow step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I’m absolutely captivating." His voice was like honey, smooth and irresistible, and for a moment, your resolve faltered.
“So, about that potion for Charlie…” His grin was unrelenting, as was the mischief in his eyes.
"Not happening," you shot back, standing your ground.
Alastor’s expression softened, but his playful demeanor remained. “Are you sure? Because I can be very persuasive.” He took another step, the faint hum of static in the air growing stronger as he closed the distance between you.
With a determined huff, you brushed past him again, your heart pounding as you moved across the room. You were convinced he could hear it. "I have no intention of being persuaded, Alastor."
“Oh, but the way you’re trying to ignore me is just too cute,” he called after you, his laughter filling the small room. "At this rate, I might just have to resort to begging."
As you gathered the final ingredients, you could feel his gaze still locked on you, his presence a constant reminder of the tension between you. It was maddening, but deep down, you couldn’t help but enjoy the chase. After all, you were a witch—and Alastor was certainly a spell all his own.
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invinciblerodent · 3 months
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These days I kind of can't stop thinking about how much I enjoyed the possibility of being from Orzammar in Origins, specifically because just being who you are put so much of the early game in a wholly different context.
Like, a dwarf from Orzammar has, by definition, lived literally under a rock their whole lives!! They've never left the underground, and yes, while that also makes their ignorance of surface squabbles (the mage issue, the Ferelden/Orlais conflict, everything with the city elves and the Dalish, etc.) make a lot of sense, it also comes with so many interesting new angles that I'm honestly so surprised still that I've never really seen it mentioned very often, if at all. (Even though we even get an explicit moment to reflect on it, when leaving with Oghren.)
In Origins, the moment a dwarf first steps out through the gates of Orzammar and begins the game, is a profoundly life-altering experience. Dare I say, even more so than it is for an elf or a human. Because stepping out, for the first time, they are entering an entirely new world, and for the first time, in front of them is a vast expanse of nothing but air.
The end of the prologue, it's not just a fundamental personal change that awaits you, it's also a displacement so complete, that it's absolutely dizzying to even think about.
That first time a dwarf feels the sun on their skin, they are made sun-touched, a surfacer: stripped not only from caste and kin, of identity, but also faith and memory, any favor their ancestors may have still held for them, and any possibility of ever returning, as far as they know. (Aeducan may even have a bitter little chuckle over the irony of how they could very well have just one day before shrugged off the concerns of their surface brethren completely, only to be made one of them now.)
Their whole lives, they had always been able to see the opposite wall of the cave, or at least to know for sure that it's there, along with the miles and miles of unchanging, crystal-littered rock stretching protectively over their heads-- now all of that is gone. There's nothing between them, and the infinite and ever-changing blue, grey, orange, black of the open sky they've never seen, and in the distance, there's no wall-- just glorious, humongous mounds and spires of rock jutting up into the belly of the sky, the likes of which they've only ever seen from the inside.
Orzammar, despite no sunlight ever penetrating that far, is always lit bright, and it's heated by the lava streams and pools below. A dwarf has never known anything colder or warmer, brighter or darker, never seen seasons change... the biting winds and the frequent rains in Ferelden are completely new to them, not to mention the terrifying cracks of thunder that sound like the very Stone over them cracking in two, the bright flashes of lightning illuminating the night for but a moment, or waking in the middle of the night to what sounds like countless fingers pat-pat-patting the tarp of their tent, or the fact that animals -which are varied and plentiful and wholly alien- sometimes just randomly fall into the sky, like the rumors say! They might know academically that with birds, that just sort of tends to happen, but they've never seen one take off!!
Hell, all of surface flora and fauna are completely new to them-- it's likely they've only ever seen a tree or a dog in a picture book. Flowers, they've likely only ever seen as an expensive and frivolous luxury few can afford to have for a while, and even then, they are by necessity brought in removed from their roots, dead, wilting, taken from their natural place... while here, blooms just spring up underfoot willy-nilly, not entirely unlike mushrooms at the home which is not theirs anymore.
And... there must be something organic, something comfortingly animal to the scent of hundreds of warm bodies crammed into a sealed hole in the ground-- which is just gone now. The air is fresh, clean... empty, cold, lonely. No smell of spilled ale, piss, and vomit, no thick scent of the combined breaths and bodies of all their people... no scent of belonging, the air that moves their lungs now is no longer that which has moved those of all they've ever known, and every breath washes more, and more, and more of who they once were from inside their very body.
Being on the surface, it's like being thrust into an alien world, with which all just expects you to be intimately familiar. What do you mean the grass, the bugs, the birds, the leaves are strange? What do you mean you've never eaten leaves from this plant, fruit from this tree, the flesh of this creature you've only ever heard about? They laugh when you avert your eyes from the sky and try not to think about falling into it, or when you startle at the feeling of falling water suddenly hitting your skin, as if that was somehow funny, charming.
The night, which you've never before seen fall, is a comfort from all that endless, boundless seeing- but after the Joining, not even that is a relief.
Because if you're a dwarven Warden, all the dreams you've had in your life have been nightmares.
So you cope. You learn, and adapt, and endure.
Strong and immutable, like the Stone from which you were rent.
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steviewashere · 7 months
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Debrief
Rating: General CW: None Really Apply to This One! Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Hurt/Comfort, Deep Breath Exercises, Dialogue Heavy, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington has Seizures (Not shown), Steve Harrington has Migraines (Not shown), Stressed Steve Harrington, Neurodivergent Steve Harrington, Not Really Said But it Is Implied, Negative Stimming (Hair Pulling), Teacher Steve Harrington
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is helping them unwind after a rough day."
💕—————💕
It was a bad day when Eddie hears the front door slam close. The first telltale sign that Steve’s had it rough, that he’s worked himself up, that he’s thinking too hard and too fast and needs to unwind. What comes next is the groans and the huffs and the irritated little sighs. The slamming of his thermos on the dining table. A chucked briefcase. Sneakers that, from where Eddie can see on their couch, get creased on the heel from how Steve takes them off. Never a good sign.
Just as he rocks forward to stand up from his comfortable cushion, Steve comes careening around the corner. A lukewarm plastic bottle of water in his left hand, glasses unfolded and dangling in the other. His hair is standing up every which way, as if he’s been pulling at it for the last little bit. Dress shirt untucked, sweater vest already absent from his body. He’s removed his belt somewhere in the time it took him to get home. So his pants are threatening to fall off his waist. But he just rushes over to the couch and plops down unceremoniously. Eddie leans back in his spot, attempting to nonchalantly lay about his space, waiting for Steve to start the conversation.
Really, he shouldn’t let Steve continue to be worked up. But, for the sake of who Steve is and for the sake of an argument-less night, Eddie has to indulge.
It’s not even three minutes later that the water bottle is crumpled in Steve’s grip, empty, and carelessly thrown onto their coffee table. Eddie turns down the volume of their TV as soon as Steve huffs.
“I fucking hate this new principal,” he seethes. Here we go, Eddie thinks, though calm. “She just drops into my classroom without giving me any sort of warning. Gets all my kids excited to the point they can’t calm down. Her fucking heels were practically stomping about the tile. And she is so demanding!” Steve’s elbows are set heavily on his knees, pressing down hard enough to leave an obvious divot in his pants. His fingers are splayed over the sides of his face, itching to move into his hair.
Eddie turns towards him a little. But he doesn’t say anything, not yet, at least.
“Fucking—“ He cuts himself off with a groan. “—Going through my lesson plan! Tsking under her breath whenever she sees something not up to her standards. Grumbling that certain things were going to be too hard or too long or too…Ugh!” There his hands go, wrapping around tendrils of his hair. He tugs hard enough that the skin on his scalp stretches with the movement. “At least my previous boss would wait until after the students left the classroom! At least she’d fucking explain in length why certain things weren’t working. This new principal, she just fucking takes it upon herself to scratch things out all willy-nilly—AND—she doesn’t consult me about it first! Doesn’t even explain! Doesn’t give me the chance to explain! I just—I don’t—“
This is the time where Eddie has to cut in. He leans into Steve’s space little by little. Enough until they’re warm at each other’s sides. His hands cover the backs of Steve’s. “Let go, honey,” he whispers. And waits, squeezing at Steve’s skin until he does release. “There we go,” Eddie murmurs, “Take a deep breath for me.”
He stutters through an inhale, but instead of exhaling—“It’s so stupid! Who the fuck does she think she is?! And none of the other teachers like her! They all think—“
“Steve,” Eddie murmurs firmer, “You need to take a deep breath.” Inhale and exhale. Then, Eddie states, “Stress causes seizures and migraines, sweetheart. She isn’t somebody worth getting sick over.”
“She’s my boss, Eddie,” Steve whines back.
Eddie runs his palms soothingly up and down Steve’s arms. Some of the tension seeps from his shoulders, but the rest of his body is pulled taut like a brand new bow. “I know,” he whispers, “but she doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me. And you getting sick over somebody like her only does harm.” He ducks down and meets Steve’s eyes. They’re shiny with tears, red on the waterlines, squinted to avoid crying. “You can tell me about what happened, but I’m going to help you, alright? You remember how we do this?”
Steve sniffles. One of his hands wipes at the bottom of his nose, coming away wet with snot. He grimaces, but sucks on his bottom lip in thought. When it comes to him, he mumbles, “Deep breaths. Quiet voice.”
Nodding, Eddie whispers, “You got it, love bug. Take another deep breath and then tell me what’s bothering you.” He brings a palm to settle over Steve’s chest, rubbing in slow circles over his heart. It’s beating hard and fast under his palm. Unsettling. Pressing a little into his sternum, Eddie requests, “Go ahead and lay down on the couch.” He stands from his spot and waits for Steve to elongate. Once his legs are stretched out and his head is cushioned on one of their lousy throw pillows, Eddie settles on the edge of the middle cushion, close to Steve’s hip. He keeps his hand on Steve’s chest. Doesn’t crowd his space, but the heavy weight of his arm is reminder enough that he’s there.
Steve closes his eyes. Hands rested on his belly. Fingers splayed instead of tugging at one another. The inhale lasts for four seconds. And Eddie’s proud of the way Steve holds it, the entire seven seconds. Not once giving up on it. When he exhales, his eyes flutter back open. He finds Eddie’s face, gives him a tight smile, and nibbles on his bottom lip. His eyebrows raise in silent question and Eddie simply nods in response.
“The new principal at my school made me angry today by vetoing my entire lesson plan,” he states calmly. “She had asked for my schedule for the day, which always includes my plans. And I watched her sit at the back of the classroom. With her stupid—“
With his palm, Eddie presses down lightly on Steve’s chest. “Deep breath, Steve,” he commands softly. They avoid using words like stupid when Steve debriefs like this. As soon as his tone goes sharp, his heart rate elevates, the louder his voice gets, the more frustrated he is, and then the whole day crumbles around them.
Another four seconds. Then seven. And eight on the release. Steve asks for permission, Eddie grants it to him.
“She pulled out a ballpoint pen, not a pencil, and marked out things on my plan she didn’t like. Which was most of it,” he relays, “And that made me irritated, not angry. But then a kid asked her what she was doing. So she told this kid the truth.” His hands spasm lightly on his belly as if attempting to bunch his shirt, but he prevents himself from completing the action. “And he said really loudly that the principal was ‘Giving Mr. Harrington a bad grade.’ That shouldn’t embarrass me, but it did. Because—“ He stops to take a deep breath of his own, not even prompted by Eddie.
He smiles to himself as Steve closes his eyes and inhales. Does the whole exercise. And clears his throat to continue.
“—Because it made me feel like I did a bad job. Like I—Like maybe I failed?” He questions rhetorically, searching for the right word. And decides that, yep, that was right. “It made me frustrated that she couldn’t keep that confidential from the student. And it only made me angrier when the kids began to laugh and tease me. I shouldn’t be so—“ He stops himself with another groan.
Palm press. Breath. Exhale. Permission.
“I got so overwhelmed, Eddie,” he admits. Completely shameful. “I didn’t know how to reign them back in, even though I’ve been doing this for nearly ten whole years. There wasn’t any yelling or anything, but she was scolding me with her eyes. Made me feel like—“ And instead of a groan, there’s a sniffle. Small and polite, but there. “—Like I was getting reprimanded by my dad. Which is so humiliating. And I just felt…Small. Like I wasn’t there at all. Wasn’t a teacher. As if I—As if maybe I didn’t deserve to be there today.” And at that, Steve crumbles a little further. Tears sluggishly leaking down his face.
Eddie rubs his thumb over Steve’s chest. He aches. “Oh, baby,” he breathes. “You deserve to be there, Steve. You’ve worked hard for your job. For those kids. I’m sorry she made you feel that way, sweetheart.” He presses lightly once more on Steve’s chest. “Take one more deep breath, alright?”
As Steve does what he’s told, Eddie gently lays his hands on either side of his face. Thumbs wiping away at the tears. He’s surprised that Steve lets him, but then again, today was rough enough. Probably didn’t want to make it harder on himself.
“You know what I think, Steve?” He questions.
Steve hums in response, eyes finding his, big and wet and tired.
“I think she’s very unprofessional,” Eddie states sure. “I think that you did your best with what happened. It’s not your fault that the students acted the way they did. It wasn’t okay of her to tell that student your business. And it definitely should’ve been a conversation she had with you outside of classroom time,” he immediately validates. Because, yeah, this whole situation is bullshit. And you know what? Eddie kind of hates this principal, too. Maybe he has a little bit of a bias, but that doesn’t matter. “She shouldn’t make anybody feel that way. You know what I think you should do? And fair warning, it’s kind of a big scary move.”
“What should I do?” Steve asks, his voice raspy from crying, but calm and curious.
“You need to talk to her boss. Explain to them what you told me. Calmly, by the way. You have to keep your head on your shoulders,” Eddie explains. “But I know that you can. Because you seem a bit better, right?” Steve nods. “Just rung out now, huh?” Again, Steve nods. Sometimes the words are too big for his mouth, the emotions having already been large enough for his chest. “And that’s okay,” Eddie tells him, validating again. “I’ll order in our dinner. Put on a movie. And we can just cuddle. I don’t expect anything more out of you.”
“Okay,” Steve tiredly mutters. He does sound small. Like he’s a teenager all over again, not well into middle age. “Will you help me figure out the words to explain again? Just so I don’t make a fool out of myself?”
“Of course,” Eddie agrees. “But I think we should do that tomorrow after your day, okay? I think today’s been enough of a burden for you.” He runs his palms down the sides of Steve’s neck, over his shoulders, down to his hands and holds him gently. “I’ll grab your pajamas. You get comfy. And remember that I love you. And you’re enough. And you do such a good job at what you do.”
Steve smiles softly at him. “I love you, too,” he whispers. And that, in itself, is enough of a thanks for Eddie.
💕—————💕
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teddie-bear420 · 2 months
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SPIN THE WHEEL SEE WHAT YOU GET!!!
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Main characters (any characters swapping places with Charlie in the narrative)
Ok more on cold and acidic hazbin hotels!
Hot charlie is your classic charlie! Shes just like the show charlie except shes got a fat tail cuz its cute
Adam sucks so he falls from heavens graces into the acid pits of hell (either greed or sloth) and then lute falls when she attacks vaggie. They are piss babies over in acidic hazbin hotel.
But cold is a lot more fun!
Instead of lucifer falling all those years ago, hes replaced with sera. Who then goes on to have emily! And emily cares more about the infrastructure than sinners tho. The ex head seraphim is extremely depressed in her old age and hell starts to freeze over.
The main cast are also swapped! For example lute and vaggie!!
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Their girlfriend. (A character swapping places with vaggie in the narrative)
I’m very willy nilly with vaggies names in these aus but hot vaggie is your classic prime tv cartoon with a more masculine take. She’s hot headed, loyal, and extremely self critical!
After her attempts to kill vaggie failed she has been trapped in hell under a contract with a demon!! Cold lute is filled with regret and paranoia, she is sure that the demons around her are out for angel blood!!
So hot and cold lute are kinda weird about their obsession with vaggie and their feelings so it’s just a whole mess I love it. Loot has no real beef with viola, she just wanted the second in command spot she tried to off her competition alright? Once she’s cast out she has a huge identity crisis and starts living a life of crime idk . loot is so cute
And so on and so forth you get the gist of it tag me if you wanna play with these guys like paper dolls
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