#Public Enemy Returns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 2 months

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Government Hooker - T.F.

Synopsis. With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! Toji, unprotected, brat-taming, spanking, choking, rough oral (male + female receiving), slight enemies-to-lovers, jealousy (Toji’s side), daddy kink, semi-public sex, manager! Nanami, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, stalking threats, TW. knife (brief), swearing.

Word count. 10.8k

A/N. WHEWWWWWWWWW need some buff bodyguard Toji in my life. Slightly inspired by The Bodyguard. Set in the Brooklyn Babyverse.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

Pop Princess’ World Tour in Jeopardy After Stalking Threats

Dark Times for Pop Royalty: Will She Return for This Year’s Grammy Performance?

Is It Over For The International Sensation?

“Nanami, for the millionth time, do I look like I need a babysitter?” you squint at the headlines flashing across your phone screen, resisting the urge to fling it at the nearest wall.

Sitting right in the middle of your whirlwind dressing room, you breathe in the heady air, thick with hairspray and anticipation for the upcoming shoot. Normally, you’d preen at the stylists swarming around you - but right now, their fussing only makes it all the more difficult to drive your manager dangerously close to an aneurysm.

As expected, Nanami drones out the same rehearsed response you’ve memorized word-for-word at this point. “My apologies, but with the severity of these threats, we can’t-”

“Afford to take any chances, I know I know.” Still, heart sinking, you scoff, “I understand, but 24/7 surveillance is insane. Can’t I have any-”

Bang!

To your chagrin - and perhaps Nanami’s mercy - the door flies open with a force that rattles its hinges.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room freezes, your eyes immediately snap to the hulking figure at the door. Expression steely and vigilant, he strides in with a presence that demands attention. You can’t help but raise a brow at his audacity - and the unreal rippling of his muscles beneath that skin-tight t-shirt.

“Sorry to interrupt, but that blue-haired freak Mojito at the front desk told me to come here.” a low rumble sweeps the room.

Ah, this must be the one. Gesturing your stylists away, you square your shoulders - ready for a fight. “And who might you be”

“Name’s Fushiguro Toji, your new ‘babysitter’, princess.” he declares, voice gruff and unwavering over Nanami’s tired hum of “Bodyguard, he means bodyguard”.

You narrow your eyes, studying the pure disinterest on his face. Great, just what you needed - you didn’t claw your way to the top to be scared and controlled by some loser stalker. Tilting your head defiantly, “Hmm, you don’t look like much of a bodyguard.”

Toji’s lips twitch into a sardonic smirk, gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge, “Mhm, and you don’t act like much of a princess.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. Everyone holding their breath, eyes locked on you as an agonizing beat of silence passes, half the room on the verge of fainting.

One. Two.

A startled laugh bursts from your lips. Shattering the tension in that dressing room as swiftly as the mirror in your stylist’s hand would’ve had you remained quiet a second longer.

The audacity of this man. No one’s ever spoken to you like that before.

Toji’s grin widens at your unexpected reaction, that sinful little scar on his lips stretching in amusement. Some small, strange part of him satisfied at passing your invisible test.

“Well, look at that, didn’t expect ya to have a sense of humor.” he comments, tone positively dripping with sarcasm, as if toying with you.

Plastering on that painfully saccharine sweet smile usually saved for nosy interviewers, you mockingly bat your lashes. “And I didn’t expect to have a babysitter breathing down my neck.”

“Oh don’t expect me to babysit, princess. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that. According to that hardass manager of yours, my job is to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.”

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to your make-up artist, clearly done with this tedious conversation. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I have a knack for losing unwanted company.”

And if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn with Toji Fushiguro, it’s that you do not have a knack for losing unwanted company. Especially not him.

Wherever you went, Toji was there first - it didn’t matter how fast you escaped, or how many hats and masks you put on. He was everywhere.

He was there when you slipped away to swap sunglasses with a passing stranger, convinced you’d outsmarted your looming bodyguard. But your triumphant laugh caught in your throat as you heard that familiar chuckle behind you - whirling around to find him sporting your ill-fitting shades with an amused glint in his eyes.

He was there during a chaotic fashion show, where you blended seamlessly amongst the flurry backstage, hoping to escape Toji’s watchful gaze. Heart pounding, making it all the way to the elevator. You’d barely let out a breath of relief before large hands intercept the closing doors. Towering figure stepping inside with a knowing grin, “Going somewhere, princess?”

Hell, he was even there when you hatched a plan to ditch him on the tarmac of the bustling airport. Making a dash for your private plane, and settling into your plush seat with smug satisfaction. Ah, at least you’ll have a few hours of peace until Tokyo without-

“Damn, first class is nice. Must be nice to be pretty and rich.” a low whistle causes you to groan inwardly (and outwardly).

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter under your breath, at the man seated right beside you. At this point, you half expected him to be keeping guard outside as you shower.

Toji was always there. Steadfast as ever, firm chest always blocking whatever escape plan you’ve concocted. In all your years in the spotlight, you’ve never felt so frustrated. The dawning realization that there was no escape matching your slowly slipping sanity as you kick off the first stop of your world tour - Tokyo.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Tokyo that everything changes.

Electricity crackling in the air, deafening roars of your name in your ears - you stand center stage. This was where you belonged - where you felt alive.

Pouring your soul into your words, stage lights dance across your skin, as frantic as the adrenaline in your veins. The crowd before you was a living, breathing entity, swept away with energy and excitement.

The music swells to a crescendo as your voice carries across the arena, limelight following you spellbound.

In the intoxicating performance, you don’t notice a pair of widened green eyes doing the same, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gaze fixed on you with an intensity that rivaled the spotlight itself. A silent reverie.

As the final notes of your song echoed through the arena you felt a rush of euphoria wash over you. Lights dimming, you draw a long breath, savoring the crackling energy onstage. A high that left you craving for more.

With a grateful smile, you bow deeply, screams and applause reverberating in your ears like thunder.

The cheers continue to ring in your ears as you’re whisked away, backstage buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the special guests for the VIP event. Enveloped by your team, you navigate through the labyrinthine corridors of the arena.

You catch Toji’s eye from where he flanked your right, your brow raising ever-so-slightly as if silently asking, “C’mon, didn’t I kill it out there?”

But before you can decipher the fleeting expression on his face, the moment is shattered by a sudden commotion up front.

“Hey, over here! Is it true there's a stalker after you? Is it to boost album sales?”

“Can you confirm the rumors that you're cozying up with Satoru from Tokyo Special Grades? The fans want answers!”

“Hey! How do you respond to critics who call you a has-been? Come on, speak up!”

You’re barely given a second to breathe before the paparazzi descend upon you like vultures. Bodies jostling urgently as rapidfire questions and incessant flashes make you see stars behind your eyes.

Trying to block out the swarm of questions, you close your eyes amidst the dizzying chaos, trying to find some semblance of stability.

And stability finds its way in the strong arm that wraps protectively around you, pressing you close against a sculpted chest.

Toji.

“Don’ worry, princess, I’ll get you outta here.” hot breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers creeping down your spine.

Pulled impossible close to his muscled frame, his steady heartbeat grounds you - while yours stutters as Toji’s voice cuts through the clamor like a knife. “Back off, vultures. Show some respect or I’ll make sure ya regret it.”

Steely gaze almost provoking - as if anyone would dare challenge the imposing, almost frightening presence in the middle of the room. The paparazzi, momentarily stunned, falter in their pursuit, allowing Toji to carve a path through the chaos.

Hands still tight around you, as you’re hastily escorted away from the chaos, you steal a glance at Toji’s profile, illuminated by the harsh flashes of the cameras. Finding some intrusive little part of you that thrills at the raw intensity, cheeks flaring in response.

He’s so warm.

You could almost cry as those gaudy VIP doors swing open, swiftly ushering you to safety. They slam shut, sealing off the cacophony outside. In the soft lounge music wafting through the air, you’re left with the nagging awareness of Toji’s body heated against yours.

Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave as you register the way you’re still clinging on to him. Abruptly pushing away, you take a larger step back than was probably appropriate.

In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out exactly what was twinkling in Toji’s eyes as they flicker to you. But what you could see was that amused grin curling his lips as you uncharacteristically stumble over your words, “Thank you- Uh, for the way I-”

“Princess~!” Words choke in your throat as a flash of white and blue barrels into you, sending you reeling backward. Playful laughter ringing through the air.

“S-Satoru?” you stammer, caught off guard. Before you’ve fully recovered, he’s pulling you into a bruising hug, nearly knocking you off your feet.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Satoru purrs, voice velvety as he leans in. “You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, Satoru! I haven’t seen you in forever.” A laugh escapes your lips, though the lingering warmth from Toji’s proximity still prickles at the edges of your consciousness. “What are you even doing here?”

Satoru chuckles, gaze lingering on you, “Couldn’t miss the biggest concert in Tokyo since ours, duh.” His energy was infectious, and you find yourself smiling along. “Thank you Satoru.”

As Satoru continues to chatter animatedly about the concert, you distinctly realize that Toji has slipped into the background. Where was he? You find your eyes darting around the room in search of his familiar presence, slowly noticing the lack of Satoru’s bandmates in the process.

Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, where are the rest of Tokyo Special Grades? I thought you guys were inseparable”

He shrugs it off casually, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially “Rehearsal. Don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”

As you titter at his antics, he gives you a playful nudge, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So…since the band’s away, how about you and me grab a drink together?.”

Something heavy pools in your stomach as those familiar words ring in your ears, hanging in the air - you knew all too well what he meant.

Skin still tingling with the lingering heat of Toji’s touch, your eyes sweep the room for him one last time. Some strange part of your heart pangs when you find that those piercing green eyes, always studying you so intently, are nowhere to be found.

“Lead the way, Satoru.”

---

The world was rocking, as were Satoru’s fingers on you. Softly tracing along your collarbone, touch searing as he pushes you against the wall of your hotel room.

Shivers run down your spine, all the way to your heated core. Breaths mingling, a desperate hunger ignites in the air as your fingers just barely graze against the buttons of his overpriced button-up.

Tension reaching its peak, fingers hazily fumbling with those tedious buttons-

Bang!

You both startle as the door swings open, breaking the heady atmosphere inside. Dazed, you whirl your head towards the intruder standing at the door - Toji. Seems he had a penchant for dramatic entrances.

Toji stands in the doorway, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without a word, he strides into the room, narrowed eyes flickering between you and Satoru.

“What the hell is going on here?” Toji’s voice is low and dangerous, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the air.

Satoru tries to play it cool, though you catch his easy smirk faltering slightly, “Oh? The bodyguard, right? What brings you here, my man?”

Ignoring the question - and Satoru altogether - Toji turns to you, eyes never leaving yours. “24/7 means 24/7. As your bodyguard, I can’t permit some stranger to get too close.” he asserts.

Mind still burning with lust, you feel red-hot irritation simmering beneath your skin. Fists clenching at the tone that leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t recall signing up for a warden.” you snap, sharp and defiant.

Toji’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m not here to argue, princess. My job here is just to keep you safe, princess.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief - this was ridiculous. “Uh, newsflash, Toji. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“You little brat-”

Before the argument can escalate further, Satoru cuts in, his voice uncharacteristically calm and conciliatory. “Hey, it's okay, man. I’ll just leave,” he says, stepping away from you and raising his hands in surrender.

You shoot Satoru a look of frustration, torn between the desire for independence and for someone to fucking make you cum, and the unsettling feeling of vulnerability that Toji’s presence somehow seems to evoke. As the door slams shut - not before a playful hum of “Call me, princess~!” - a deafening silence envelopes the room.

The room that now feels too small. Too hot. Thighs still quivering in anticipation.

Shit.

Mind racing, you don’t catch the way Toji’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t take any chances, I’m here to protect you.”

“Enough with this ‘princess’ crap.” Running a hand through your hair, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying desperately to quell the storm of emotions swirling uncomfortably inside you. “And protect me from what? A harmless hookup?”

“From whoever is sending those threats,” Toji growls. “Until we catch them, you’re not allowed to be alone with anyone.”

Frustration reaching a boiling point, you storm up to him. “Fine, then you can stay here and watch me 25/8 for all I care. But, what are you going to do about that?” each word punctuated by a hard poke to his sculpted chest, laced with defiance - but also something raw and primal.

Green eyes darkening with intensity, you watch his jaw clench in restraint. He takes a step impossibly close, the air crackling with something you couldn’t name.

“You don’t get to play games with me, princess,” he warns, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

But - as always - you refuse to back down. Heart racing, mind hazy, you stand close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. A hand reaching out to grasp his large ones, manicured nails digging into the heated skin. In one, fluid motion, you place his hand in between your skirt, heated core soaking through your thin panties.

“I’m not playing games, Toji.”

Before you can react, your back hits the wall. Surface cool on your heated skin. A brick-hard body is against yours, you could almost sink into him at how close he was pressed.

Heat rushing to your cheeks, slick gushing to your cunt, your eyes lock with Toji’s darkened ones. He murmurs, words low and making your pussy jump in anticipation, “Didn’t expect you to be so filthy, princess.”

You lean in, lips mere inches away from his, whispering seductively. “Oh you have no idea.”

You didn’t expect those to be the words that make him snap - then again, you didn’t expect him to snap so easily either.

Toji’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw dropping open as he processes your words. He stares at you darkly for a moment, gaze traveling over your flushed cheeks, your devilish grin, and finally settling on your heaving chest.

Toji pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other roughly tearing your skirt off your waist. Flimsy cloth hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hey! Those are Dolce and-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before his lips capture yours. Words catching in your throat as his tongue plunges unforgivingly into your mouth.

Hands groping and teasing every inch of skin they could find. Kneading your breasts through your shirt, biting down hard on your bottom lip.

A desperate whine that you definitely would’ve been embarrassed about had you been in the right state of mind leaves your lips as something achingly hard grazes your core. Shit, you had an inkling but he was going to split you apart. Mindlessly wondering whether you’ll have to cancel the photoshoot tomorrow. Hips bucking for more more more-

“Patience, princess.” he murmurs, hotly against your lips. Thick fingers slipping beneath your panties - ripping them off. You gasp as the cold air hits your cunt, thighs quivering at the neat fingernail grazing your swollen folds. “You need to be taught a lesson first.”

You’re not in the mood for patience. But whatever retort gets stuck on the tip of your tongue as a long finger circles your throbbing clit. Tight, urgent little circles that inch you closer and closer to insanity. “F-faster-”

“You’ll take what I give, my lil’ slut.”

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

Ah, but alas - thank god for Toji Fushiguro being a merciful man. At least for the moment.

Pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, dropping to his knees with urgency of a madman. Gaze fiery fiery with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine - you were in for it.

Licking his lips, tongue catching on that small scar by the corner, he dives nose-deep into your needy pussy. Bed mere meters away, Toji takes you right against the wall.

His hungry gaze devours you just as greedily as the mouth on your cunt. “Ah! Hah- Oh, Toji!” you gasp, arching into his hurried yet expert tongue. Harsh, purposeful movements that send electric shocks straight to your core.

“Not Toji, princess.” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

Something hot and sticky coils at your stomach - maybe at the way his tongue was crooking just right to tease your dripping entrance, bullying its way past your swollen folds. Or maybe at the way the realization has your slick beading out of your pulsing pussy.

“D-daddy?” you whimper, almost-experimentally.

And apparently it was the right answer, as Toji lets out a guttural groan into your snug cunt. Nose catching against your abused clit, rubbing hurried little circles. Tongue stretching out your snug walls, pooling your juices, unforgivingly dipping in and out in and out in and-

Speeding up now, his tongue has you losing your mind in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “Hngh- faster. Fuck me like you want it, daddy.” you whine, hips grinding further into his mouth..

And he lets you. In your lust-addled mind you barely have time to think about this strange act of mercy - only thinking of how close you were. So close. So fucking close. Mere moments away from shattering completely. Mind filled with only Toji and his tongue and Toji-

“Didn’t think I’d be so nice to ya, did you, princess?”

Orgasm slipping through your fingers, your crash from euphoria matches that of your heart.

Ah, Toji could cream his pants at the way your face fell so adorably as he pulled away. Delicate strings of spit and slick still connecting him to your slutty pussy.

“Toji?” you mewl, bruised lips falling into a pretty pout that made him want to throw caution to the find and stuff you full of his cock right now. But no, he had to teach his lil’ princess a thing or two about not getting everything she wants.

“Patience, princess.” With a grin, Toji warns, voice husky and sending shivers down your spine and making you grind your hips against his lips. Before you can whine in disappointment, a sharp smack! cuts through the heady air. The sound hits you before the realization that Toji hit you.

A sharp slap against your ass, the impact shocking you briefly before arousal takes over. You yelp at the sting, eyes widening in surprise.

“Wha-”

“Count to ten, then I’ll let you cum. You need to learn a thing or two about listening, brat.”

You stare at him defiantly, your heart pounding in your chest. A silent staredown that only makes heat pool more and more desperately at your core. Deafening need, slick dripping down your legs pathetically.

“O-one.” you whisper, voice strained with frustration and barely audible.

He watches you like a predator stalking his prey, eyes never leaving your face. Smack!

His hand connects with your ass again, a low hum of appreciation at the mewl leaving your kiss-bitten lips at the pain and filthy pleasure. Your ass stinging as much as your dripping cunt.

“...two.”

Apparently approving of your obedience, he dives back in with a low growl. Burning his face between your thighs, because fuck oxygen - breathing couldn’t compare to how sweet you were on his tongue.

Lapping up your sensitive folds, scar rough against them, teasing. Edging your climax and your sanity like the merciless bastard he was. Smack!

“Hah- ah! Two- Oh, jus’ like that-” Broken, raw moans escape your lips as he continues his torture. Ah, he loved this view. The people’s princess, so teary and falling apart because of him.

In the obscenity of it all, thick fingers stuff themselves in your cunt. The lack of preparation makes you squeeze around Toji’s tongue as they pump into your sloppy hole relentlessly. In and out in and out-

Smack!

“Th-three- hngh-”

Purposefully missing that one spot Toji knew would have you seeing stars. You haven’t earned that yet.

Blood rushes straight to his cock as you throw your head back, letting out a strangled sob. “Daddy, let me cum. Wanna cum on your tongue. Ah-” Oh, you clever minx, knew exactly what made his leaking cock throb with need. For that you get two sharp smacks on each cheek.

“F-four. Five.” you’re in tears at this point. Delicate little streaks down your cheeks to where Toji had his face buried in your cunt.

“Tha’s right, princess.” Toji praises, voice thick with desire and sending vibrations that make your walls clench. “Tell me how badly you need it.”

Body convulsing uncontrollably around his hot tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge - only to reel you back again. Denying you. Chipping away at your sanity bit by bit. A hand reaches to grab a fistful of his silky black locks, tugging needily - and you get punished accordingly.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“E-eight! Hngh- please.”

“Please!” you moan, voice raw with need and desperation. Finally breaking for him - being pushed this far with anyone before. “Please, let me cum. Please please wanna cum-.” Close. You were so close that it hurt.

Ever the merciful man, he forgives this little transgression. Only continuing to cup your sore cheeks possessively, hands mapping the expanse of your heated skin.

“Please, Daddy.” you choke, a broken whisper. Now exhausted, knees weakening, it’s all you can do to not collapse on the floor, Toji’s strong hold on your hip to control you being the only thing holding you up.

Several things happen at once. You barely even feel the final two, sharp slaps - too far gone to register anything other than the rough thumb pressing on your sensitive clit. Hard.

And then you’re cumming.

Body convulsing and bowing into him, crying out raw moans of Toji’s name as you cream around his tongue. Your vision blurs at the edges, grip searing on Toji’s hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling him impossibly closer to ride out your high on his pretty face.

White-hot pleasure courses through your entire body, thighs quivering delicately around his face as you chase peak after peak.

As the stars behind your eyes disappear into nothingness, you’re left limp and boneless, held up against the wall with a single, muscled hand.

Toji - ever the gentleman, supports you with a steady arm before you slip down the wall, valiant knees finally giving out.

Blinking your vision back, you catch a glimpse of his achingly hard erection. Straining painfully against his trousers, a dark patch right where his thick head was. And despite your severely fucked out state, your mouth still waters.

Obviously catching your line of sight, he adjusts his uncomfortably tight pants. Steering your still-lustfully delirious self to the bed. “You were such a good girl f’me, princess. Let’s stay that way, hm?”

You blink up at him, confusion clouding your mind. Did he just compliment you? You must be mistaken.

But as you look into his eyes, you see a genuine twinkle of fondness mixed in with the desire that makes your skin burn. A heady combination. One that makes your mind spin, even as you’re carefully placed on the soft bed. Even as he swiftly closes the door with a low whisper of “Rest now, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” leaving no room for argument.

Sinking into the soft mattress, a strange surge of euphoria rushes through you as you realize two things:

Nothing would ever be the same.

It was going to be your personal challenge to make Toji Fushiguro crack.

Heart racing, feet thumping tersely against the plush carpet, for perhaps the first time in years, Fushiguro Toji is taken aback. The heavenly sight of you falling apart underneath him searing into his brain. Something coiling uncomfortably in his stomach, rushing all the way to his throbbing dick. But, right now, the only thing he’s thinking of being to fucking find somewhere to fuck his fist to the memory.

---

Your third night in Tokyo was a whirlwind of lights and camera flashes. And yet, in the midst of it all you still escaped - this time with Toji - claiming “security talks”. Pulling him into an abandoned green room, your glossy lips capture his with searing passion. Pulling away teasingly, breathless, only once you were sure you’d kissed him silly and achingly hard. And promptly skipping away to bother your make-up artist.

Ah, yet the stubborn bastard still didn’t crack.

It’s in Melbourne where you learned that Toji was much more than just a bodyguard. Finally bothering him enough to join you out rather than shadow you for the first time. Dragging him to a tiny karaoke booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of town, belting out your favorite tunes to him while he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. And if you caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, well, neither of you said anything.

Your glittering heels were placed teasingly in his lap, chattering away as he drove you two back, your favorite pastime as of late. A silent dare, almost goading. His steely gaze trained on the bustling road and that one annoying blue car trying to swerve him.

“So, Toji, in your military stint ever tried to sneak away incognito but wear a disguise so bad you end up on the front page?”

He chuckles, eyes flickering down at your feet resting comfortably on him. “Can’t say I have, but I once mistook a high-ranking officer for a recruit. Had him doing push-ups before I realized my mistake.”

You burst into laughter, sound echoing in the car. Feet brushing against him right there - just a little accident, right?

But it takes until Paris for you two to break.

In the chic confines of your favorite studio in Nanterre, the scent of freshly brewed coffee heavy in the air, you find yourself chattering away on call with Gojo Satoru. His voice crackling through the speaker amidst the glow of studio lights.

“That beat you sent is pure magic, Satoru. It’s perfect!” you hum, excitement bubbling in your voice as you bob your head to the soft music playing in the background.

Satoru’s response is immediate, enthusiasm matching yours, “See, what did I tell ya. Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with. You sure I get no sneak peaks for this secret lil’ project of yours?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Thought so, but anyway, how’s the City of Love been treating you, darling?” he teases.

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, “Please, Satoru. You know I’m too busy dodging Toji for any of that.”

Satoru chuckles knowingly on the other end of the line, “Ah yes. From what happened last time, I imagine he’s been a welcome distraction, huh? Hey, is his dick really as big as his BDE is?”

“Oh fuck off.” you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “And for that, I’m leaving.”

Swiftly ending the call, you cut off Satoru’s protests. Slight embarrassment coursing through your veins at how apparently obvious you two had been. A strange pang of longing flickers in your chest as you realize you haven’t seen Toji all day - Nanami mentioned something about a security briefing for your closely upcoming Grammy performance.

You sigh at the irony of the situation - just when you thought you got that freedom you’d been yearning for so long, you find yourself wanting for that musclehead presence even more.

Shaking your head, you turn back to your mixing console, ready to throw yourself into the music once more. Yet before you could, your phone buzzes with a new notification. A quick glance reveals that familiar contact name and a series of messages that have your cheeks flaring once more.

Blind rat #4 🧿🧿:

You better not block me for this but is this secret project for that bodyguard? You whipped WHORE~~

LMAO JKJK IK you don’t write songs about other people.

Unless…

As that block button was tapped, it’s said that Satoru’s piercing shriek echoed across in all 23 wards of Tokyo - making the people fear an oncoming Godzilla attack.

“Damn Satoru.” you grumble, tossing your phone onto the leather sofa in the corner. “Always saying stupid thi-”

But as you turn around, your breath catches in your throat. There, standing in the doorway, is Toji. His presence filling the space, commanding attention with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Toji?” you breathe, surprise mingling with a rush of conflicting emotions. “I didn’t expect the briefing to end so soon-”

“What’s this about that brat Satoru, princess?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly.

He raises his head to meet your gaze, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. Oh, those eyes. Your skin feels heated in the crackling air. “Nothing.” you reply - almost suspiciously quickly - the words tumbling out in a rush, “Just Satoru being...well, Satoru.”

Toji’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes among that carnal look. “I see,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you. You have half the mind to step back - but why would you ever.

“Y’know, I didn’t think you still talk with that white-haired clown.” his minty breath fans your face, darkened eyes searching yours. And you can see the question forming in them before he even asks. “You still plan on fuckin’ him when you go back to Tokyo?”

And usually you’d bristle. Usually, that hardened part of you that never takes shit would rear her head and give Toji an earful. Usually. But right now, a dangerous idea was taking root in your head.

Heat rushing to your core at the look in his eyes that said he wanted to devour you alive, you simply tilt your head coyly.

“So what?” A smirk playing on your lips, “Gonna do something about it, daddy? Or are you just gonna leave me all hot and bothered like you have-”

Your back hits the leather sofa before you even realize what is happening.

Bouncing at the sheer force of his throw, you let out a yelp of surprise. Skirt riding up, legs splaying out so sinfully for him.

The cushion dips as he looms closer, approaching you unhurriedly like a predatory closing in on its prey. A dangerous little smirk playing on your lips, you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. A carnal part of you relishing in the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between your soaked panties and the way you bite your lips so coyly.

“If you’re that desperate, then you’re gonna get it, my lil’ slut”

He’s on top of you now, tongue hot against your neck, leaving heated, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You yelp as sharp teeth dig into the soft skin. Hands exploring every inch of you, desperate for more - and you’re no better.

Sharp nails digging into that sinfully tight t-shirt, all but tearing it to shreds. Your mouth waters as it hits the floor, Toji’s chiseled body on full display. Your eyes greedily take in every curve and dip, hands reaching out to grope the toned skin. Pulling. Teasing. Not enough time in the world to savor the Adonis that was Toji Fushiguro.

His hands were pulling up your shirt haphazardly. Bunching your panties with two fingers, pulling down down down till your cunt was bare and spread open so shamefully for him. “Shit, so wet n’ ready. This for me or that brat, huh?” he grunts cruelly, lowering himself beside you to murmur in your ear.

“Now, on your knees, princess. Be a good lil’ slut for me and don’t make me wait.” breath hot against your ears, making you shudder so sinfully. It made him want to eat you alive.

You consider disobeying him, just to face his delicious punishment. But that predatory look in his eyes has you immediately dropping to the ground in front of him.

Your hungry gaze takes in the heavenly sight before you. Legs spread, eyes half-lidded, pants pulled down just enough so that his heavy, leaking cock bobbing enticingly in the air.

Eyes widening, your cunt clenches in both fear and anticipation. Shit, maybe this was why he was holding back.

He was big. Ridiculously big, and rock-hard. Furiously red with thick veins running down the side, glistening with precum.

“C’mon now, if you’re gonna act like such a slut then learn to take it like one, princess.” Saliva pools on your tongue, warm as it hits Toji’s thick tip, achingly hard. A carnal part of you relishes in the low hiss that leaves him.

Your tongue snakes out, unable to hold yourself back any longer. Swiping at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. The sinfully salty taste explodes on your tongue, sending shocks of pleasure right to your cunt.

You feel his intense gaze on you as your mouth wraps around his thick head, inching down slowly. Stretching your lips obscenely, filling you up in ways you never thought were possible.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pulses in your throat. It was overwhelming and everything you wanted to be doing right now.

Ah, but you should’ve known by now. Should’ve realized as your teary eyes look up to meet the dangerous glint in his.

With a feral groan, his hips thrust forward. You were too slow.

Hardening impossibly at the way you choke and gag around him, tears springing to your eyes. Using you in a way that was so debauched. “Hah- Fuck. love it when you sing, princess, but you look better choking on my cock.”

Your nose was buried in his pubic hair now, wet with saliva and precum. His heady, masculine scent filling your senses. Toji’s thrusts were jerky, desperate.

Grip searing on your scalp, Toji uses it as leverage as he fucks your face till his tip hits your poor, abused throat. Moving you up and down on his cock with mindless need, hips rutting with reckless abandon.

Yet, you wanted more. Needed more. More more more. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, splitting you open, making you come harder than you ever thought possible.

And you’re guessing it showed on your dazed eyes. Because a broken, dangerous laugh leaves him. His grip on your hair intensifies, pulling your head back roughly until your eyes water. “More? You want fucking more? Then prove it.”

Toji’s thrusts increase in speed, his raspy grunts becoming louder and louder as he rams his cock deeper into your mouth, your pussy throbbing in response.

You moan around his erection, unable to form coherent sentences due to his length stretching your throat.

Without hesitation, you reach up and grab his balls, massaging them firmly as you suck him deeper. Pressing right in between that one spot you knew would make him see stars. Pressing tight little circles. Over and over-

An appreciative groan leaving him, Toji’s thrusts become erratic. Movements growing frantic. “Fuck, Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death of me,” he curses, his voice strained.

You rub your thighs together desperately, relaxing your throat more, refusing to let go. Desperate to taste him, to experience the blissful agony of his seed painting your mouth. But when has Toji ever let you have your way? Never, that’s when.

Instead, he yanks your head back, pulling you off his cock with a rough, almost cruel motion. Your lips pop free, leaving his sensitive head exposed to the cool air. Gasping for breath, your chest heaves as you try to regain your composure.

Before you can even register what's happening, Toji pulls you into him, forcing you on your hands and knees. Large hands grasp your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Face down, ass up. You’re going to take it like a good little slut.”

Delicious goosebumps erupt down your spine. Licking a long, languid stripe down your back along them as you position yourself before him, Toji couldn’t help but huff out a dangerous laugh at your sinful gasp.

Mouth watering at your glistening cunt, clenching so pathetically around nothing, Toji pools your juices on two of his fingers. Promptly pushing them into his mouth with a lewd pop! groaning at his favorite taste. “Next time, I’m gonna eat out your pretty lil’ cunt while you suck on my cock, princess.”

“Please, daddy. Anything.”

Fingers circling your wet entrance, your words were music to Toji’s ears. Music that mingles with your needy, disappointed whine as he abruptly pulls away. But that doesn’t last too long - with low hiss, he buries his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt with almost no preparation.

You keen at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.

Toji was hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump sending white-hot pleasure down your spine.

“Ah- are- are you all the way in, daddy?” he hears you whimper, voice tinged with helpless desperation. Huffing out a laugh, Toji’s greedy gaze catches on the obscene sight of you sucking him up so sinfully below. “Not even close, princess.”

Pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts that have your hot cunt enveloping him deeper and deeper. Cock hardening impossibly at the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he rams into you. If you wanted it so bad, you were going to get all of it. A hoarse groan leaves him as his heavy balls meet your twitching folds, fat tip kissing your cervix - finally bottoming out.

Now, Toji knows he’s big - takes pride in it, in fact. But he’s never been more proud of the fact than right now, hungry gaze taking up the way your eyes widen in shock, snug walls clenching down with the struggle to accommodate him.

“You alright, princess?” he taunts, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t your slutty lil’ pussy handle my cock?” Tell me, he as big as me?

And, of course, you snap back - because you’re mouthy even when you’re whining around his thick cock. Ah, next time he’s gotta make you choke on it for longer.

“Fuck you, daddy.” your response is a feral growl, hips desperately trying to fuck back into his. “If you’re not all talk then fuck me like you want to already.”

Smack!

A sharp slap stinging your cheek, you groan in response as absolutely raw, carnal fucking need courses through Toji’s veins. Intoxicating him. Oh, he was going to ruin you. Grinning cruelly, he utters “Then take it. And don’t fucking complain.”

With that, he begins to move. Not easing in, ramming into you with animalistic efficiency. Your ass stinging as each thrust has his hips meeting yours brutally. Toji’s pretty sure his hips were out of control at this point, high off your teary cries of pain and pleasure. That cluttered studio heady with sex and pure, animalistic desperation.”S’good- ah! S’too much-”

Smack!

There’s no going back now. Toji fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits, and you love every painful second of it.

Vision blurring at the edges, you reach out a hand to grab the armrest for stability. Body jerking with each movement, his bruising grip on your hips the only thing keeping you from being fucked off the sofa.

“Who’s fucking ruining you like this?”

“You! Jus’ like that. Fucking ruin me, daddy.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.

For perhaps the first time, he obliges, increasing his speed mindlessly. God, you were sure both of you were about to explode any second now.

Fucked out of your mind, you barely register the muscled front pressing into you, abs rippling against your back. Large hands snake from your hips, leaving deep, purple marks for you to remember him by.

Smack!

Another handprint on your ass, as you frantically move your hips to meet Toji’s unforgiving cadence. Sensing your urgency, one of his hands finds itself on your throbbing clit, drawing methodical, harsh circles on it. Pressing just enough to have you seeing stars being your eyes. And the other - digging into your neck.

Your frantic moans choke in your throat, feeling fucking delirious off both the change in angle and the hand around your throat. Eyes flashing at the lack of air and the blood roaring in your ears - and Toji.

“Open your mouth, princess.” he grows, voice dangerously close to your ears, cock still driving into yours with brutal precision. The intensity of the moment - electric.

Mindlessly, you comply, tongue lolling out so lewdly. That’s when he does it - without warning, he spits into your open mouth. Once. Twice. Three times.

Steady stream of saliva slightly missing your face - on purpose, you absentmindedly realize - as it dribbles over your kiss-bitten lips and down the side of your face. A marking.

“No one else gets to fuck you like this, princess.”

Hot on your tongue, sliding down to your throat. He tasted of such sin, it made your cunt clamp down hard.

“Now, what do good girls say?” he grits out, through clenched teeth. The absolute insanity in his voice matching the frenzy coiling inside of you.

“Thank you, daddy.”

You reach around to capture his lips with yours, nails digging into his neck hard enough to draw blood - a marking of your own. White-hot ropes of pleasure making you gasp into his lips - tender where his cock was unforgiving.

In the lewd haze of the moment you’re dimly aware of Toji’s body shuddering above you, throbbing cock twitching deeply in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! M-hah- M’cumming, better take every drop like my good lil’ slut. Fuck.”

You flinch as he groans ragged profanities into your mouth. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. Thick, hot ropes that paint your walls white. Two large arms wrap bruisingly tight around your waist, veins popping out as he crushes you impossibly close to him. Toji’s hips not giving up their torture on your abused, awaiting cunt, pumping his seed deeper and deeper.

Full. You feel so full. And so, so complete.

You can feel such an obscene mix of your slick and his cum mapping down your legs every time his hips slam into yours. Dripping onto the cushion, pooling at the sofa in a way so sloppy, you knew you’d have to scour online later for a replacement.

Stomach now feeling uncomfortably inflated and hot, vision blurry, you collapse onto the cushion. The last of your strength leaving you with the orgasm that you’re sure fried your brain. You mewl at both the sensitivity and the sudden emptiness as Toji pulls out with a wet pop!

A rush of cum gushes out of you, drenching both you and the cushion below. Limp and boneless beneath him, you let out a sigh at the heat of his release seeping into your skin.

A soft silence fills the room like a lullaby. Everything feels so heavy. So dizzying and so warm. You barely register the strong hands lifting you gently towards the direction of the bathroom. The only thing on your mind being Toji and what a privilege it was to fall asleep in someone’s arms. You wouldn’t really mind this every night…

And in the dim lighting of that heady studio, fucked to sleep and covered in sweat and his cum, Toji thinks you’ve never looked so beautiful.

His heart lurches as he realizes - in all of Paris, the one sight he wants to look at is you. His pretty popstar.

---

“For the last time. I don’t do celebrities, especially not spoiled pretty popstars.”

Undeterred, the blond man leans forward in his chair, his expression indiscernible behind those glasses. “We’re told you’re the best of the best, even from ex-military. And if money’s the issue then I’ll double- no, triple whatever you’re making right now.”

Jaw tightening, skepticism dripped from his words. “All this for some celebrity drama?”

“Fushiguro, we’re talking big people, and even bigger money. And a girl’s life in genuine danger on top of it all,” a hint of desperation creeping into words that cut through the tense air.

“Genuine danger, huh?”

Toji runs a hand through his hair, questioning what the fuck he got himself into by opening the door for this human definition of a stick up one’s ass. Mind racing, eyes darting around the room, they catch yours - twinkling on the glossy cover of some magazine thrown haphazardly on the table.

Traitorously, something prickly and uncomfortable settles in his stomach as the words ring in his ears.

Genuine danger.

Heaving out a sigh, he narrows his eyes at the man currently studying his reaction.

“A year. That’s it. No more, no less. I don’t care if that prima donna princess of yours begs on her knees otherwise.”

But right now, your twinkling gaze set on him, lips curved into a blinding smile as you waltz through Los Angeles International Airport - as much as you could with your entourage - some small, raw part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a long, long time.

LAX was probably one of your favorite airports. Not because of its size or architecture, but because of the thrumming energy of the opportunity to come. Namely, your Grammy performance.

Eyes slightly heavy, yeah, you were cutting it close - to Nanami’s ever-graying hair at the stress. But hey - at least no paparazzi tipped off for your unexpected arrival.

You just couldn’t resist the temptation to push your departure off for a day. Taking the extra time to wander along the Seine with Toji, talking about everything from your new dance number for next month’s Madrid show to why Nanami was a masochist for staying in this industry, all the way to Toji’s military stories that even Hollywood couldn’t dream up.

The setting sun casting a soft glow on both of your uncanny disguises - your choice of course. A newfound understanding crackling between you two.

And right now, his presence steadfast behind yours as you weave through the bustling terminal, you feel a rush of excitement at finally performing that little project you’d been working on.

More specifically what Toji’s reaction to it would be. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Would he realize just what that inconspicuous voice memo you bothered him into was actually for?

But then came the real test: would he realize just who it was for?

The thought made you smirk inwardly. Imagine Toji’s face when he puts two and two together.

Turning around, you catch Toji’s eye, a mirthful glint dancing in yours. “So, Toji, ready to witness greatness at the Grammys?” you quip, tone playful as you bump shoulders with him. Of course, the man barely budges.

He raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo, princess.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking we could match.” you whine. Though a chuckle leaves your lips, “And that reminds me…” you trail off as your voice drops to a conspicuous whisper.

Delighting at the playful sigh that leaves his lips as Toji leans down, allowing you to whisper words meant for only him. “You better reward me after my performance, y’know. I remember someone saying something about ‘eating me out till I cry’”

“You won’t be getting any reward if you continue acting like such a slut, princess.” warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs.

“If the shoe fits.” you bat your lashes, mockingly innocent.

“If the shoe fits then please get into the car. The driver’s here and the team are on their way.” Nanami’s no-nonsense voice rings out. Already sounding dangerously close to an impending stroke.

“Yes, mother.” you quip, stifling your laughter as you step outside. It’s a short walk to your destination, the cool morning breeze greeting you as you head for your waiting car, just stuck behind some slightly-oddly parked blue car.

Ah, that’s LA for you, you chuckle inwardly, walking towards it - that strangely familiar blue car. The one you’ve seen a few too many times these past few weeks in the corner of your vision.

Strange.

Steps slightly speeding up, a cold sweat trickles down your spine. Unease prickling at the back of your mind, something tells you you’re being watched. And not in the way of paparazzi snapping a stray picture.

Subconsciously, you take a half-glance inside the car - time freezes. Heart immediately lurching into your throat at the sight.

There.

The door swings open.

A flash of blue hair, one foot out of that dreaded blue car - is him. You don’t know how you knew it was him. You don’t know how you knew he was there. The only thing being your eyes locked on that glinting knife in his hand. Winking mockingly at you in the morning sun.

Gray eyes locked on yours, whirling with chilling maniacal intensity. The cool morning breeze feels icy against your skin as a primal fear claws at your insides once you realize the imminent danger.

Toji’s trained instincts kick into high gear, eyes locked with his. Positioning himself between you and the assailant, his hand reaches for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. Only for them to stutter in midair as he realizes they’re still safely stored in his checked luggage. Unreachable.

Shit. Clever bastard.

Nanami moves with a swift grace, eyes scanning the surroundings for any nearby law enforcement.

Mahito’s lips curl into a malevolent smirk as he realizes the vulnerability, grip tightening on his knife as he takes a menacing step forward. The air so tense you found it hard to breathe.

“You.” the words ring venomously, panic surging within you. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”

“Step back before you do something you regret, you freak.” Toji’s voice is steady, body poised for action. Eyes locked on every minute tremor of the knife in his hands.

His eyes wide and bloodshot, staring right into Toji - almost as if trying to look at you through him. “Little princess~” he taunts in an eerie sing-song voice. “Why did you leave me here all alone, I was lonely, y’know~ And this gorilla never left you alone, ah what a pain to follow you around. But I did it- of course, I did it for my princess.”

Another step forward.

No one engaged with Mahito’s delirious rambles. Nanami’s hand was firm on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to get away. Now.

But your mind was stuck on the words that cut through you like a knife - the knife that he was now slicing through the air in jagged, deranged motions. “She can’t leave. She belongs here with me.”

Before anyone can react, Mahito throws himself forward with startling speed. Glinting blade deadly through the air. You stagger backward, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of fear and desperation.

Toji springs into action with lightning speed, body lunging expertly. Hands deflecting the blade with a swift motion. Knife flashing mere millimeters away from his skin.

Yet Mahito continues struggling relentlessly. Each movement calculated and cold. Hand slashing at Toji as he ducks and weaves away, attempting to divert the attack away from you.

The grip on your shoulder tightens, “Let’s get away now. While he’s distracted.”

You’re being pulled away before you know it.

Movements sluggish in the air thick with tension and fear. Your body is frozen, ice running through your veins. Nanami’s urgent hold on your shoulder moving you away.

But your eyes remain locked on Toji.

On the way he swiftly tries to find an opening amidst the blur of movement, knife slashing away as if it were a game. You were fighting to look back now, body twisting against the one moving you away. Struggling to follow Toji’s powerful kick to Mahito’s midsection. The impact knocking the wind out of him, knife faltering. Yet rage still surging.

Hand coming down down down. Merciless metal meeting skin. Red-hot crimson flashing behind your eyes and staining the ground below Toji as he’s slashed viciously.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Los Angeles that you think you might lose him.

The sickening sound of metal against flesh echoing amidst the blood-curdling scream you don’t realize you let out.

The sound making Mahito falter for the briefest millisecond, a flicker of hesitation flitting across his twisted features.

And it’s all the opening Toji needs.

Launching himself at the man, colliding with a bone-jarring impact that has both bodies crashing to the ground.

A deadly struggle, and despite Mahito’s fierce grappling - fueled by pure madness - he’s no match for Toji’s punishing blows. Every strike clear and calculated, pinning his flailing hands to the ground.

The screech of metal against gravel and distant footsteps ring in your ears, as Toji wrestles the knife from his hands. Glinting metal skidding away.

For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

“You’re supposed to be with me.” Mahito's voice pierces through the din, voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been there for you ever since you stepped foot in that godforsaken agency. Me. It’s me.” he snarls. Eyes cutting into yours.

Takedown tightening, Toji pins his body tighter against the ground. “You don’t have the right to talk to her, you blue-haired freak. Be grateful we’re in broad daylight and I can’t rip you limb from limb for her.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Toji’s strained yet still steady voice rings in your ears - in tune with the voices you’re now realizing were surrounding you. As uniform-clad figures rush into your circle of vision, you distinctly realize with a jolt that it’s over.

Knees weakening in relief, you feel them hit the gravel. It’s all over. You feel light-headed - absolutely delirious. Vision blurring with tears and all you can see is red red red.

Blood roaring in your ears, you miss Mahito’s shrieks as he’s restrained and escorted away. The only thing registering in your mind being the warm hand under your arm, pulling you up gently as if you were something so utterly precious.

Toji.

“Are you okay, princess? Need me to loosen another one of that bastard’s teeth?” he rumbles slowly, slightly breathless. As you cling onto the words like a lifeline, a fresh wave of tears prick your eyes at his uncharacteristically careful tone.

“Are you okay?” you repeat, words heavy with remorse as you blink at the sight of that stark red against his t-shirt. A deep gash running along his side that left Toji vulnerable in ways you knew he would never openly admit.

Seeing your shaken state, he lets out a sigh. Pulling you flush against his chest, careful to avoid his injury. “I’ll be fine princess.” he murmurs, quiet words strained and meant for only you, amidst the chaos in the background. You lean into his touch, reveling in the feeling of him being solid and whole and here. With you.

You think you could stay like that forever.

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.

Nanami’s voice cuts through the fragile peace with his usual calm authority, “I've spoken with the authorities,” you whirl around to meet his exhausted gaze. “They’ve assured me that Mahito will be taken into custody, and measures are being put in place to prevent any future incidents.”

Eyes flitting between you and Toji, he continues, voice taking on a much softer tone. “There’s no need for you to attend the Grammys after all that happened, I understand and will contact them if you wish to stay here.” And with that, Nanami walks away to a nearby police officer, presumably to give a statement - but you knew better, grateful for the moment of privacy he’d given you two.

Right. The Grammys.

Part of you is relieved at the prospect of not having to pretend that everything is fine in front of the flashing cameras and millions of scrutinizing eyes. And the other part, well, you glance up at Toji.

Wide eyes meeting those green ones. Unspoken questions swirling between you two like a whirlwind. Is it really over? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?

Please stay.

“I don’t want to go,” you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, make sure you’re okay.”

Toji’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually steely eyes as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “My princess worries about me, hm? I’ll be fine.” he reassures, yet words weak from the pain. “Go out there and kill it.”

And in the delicate tension of it all you find it in yourself to arch your eyebrow skeptically, “Fine? You’re bleeding out, Toji. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fine’ to me.”

“I’ve had worse, I promise. Worst case scenario I track that freak down and break his arm.”

You let out a watery laugh as Toji leans down, hot breath fanning your face. His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss. A silent reassurance. But just as quickly as it began, he pulls back with a playful bite to your lower lip.

“Now go. Blow the overpriced silk pants off of all those overrated snobs. Trust me.”

You almost bristle at his words, but that twinkle of fondness in his eyes made all your inhibitions melt away - involuntarily, of course. Throat tight, you give an affirmative nod.

Now, Toji always did delight in catching you off guard. But right now, ignoring the fussing EMTs, watching you be hastily ushered away by your team - the words tumble out before he can stop them.

“Oi, princess.” he calls out, voice carrying over the chaos. “I love ya.”

And as he watched you trip over nothing but thin air, a lightheaded chuckle leaves him - maybe it was the bloodloss, probably it was that adorable look on your face. “Smooth, princess.” he laughs.

As you regain your composure and flip him off, promptly being whisked away by Nanami - who looks two steps into his grave already - Toji can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. “Tha’s my girl,” he mutters to himself, a rare gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, music aficionados around the world. It is my pleasure to announce our next performance, a star who needs no introduction. Get ready to witness the talent, the charisma, and the sheer audacity of the one, the only-.”

Cameras flashing. Cheers roaring, The anticipation electric as your name echoes through the auditorium, the audience’s excitement reaching a fever pitch as you take to the stage.

“Buckle up, darlings, because this is ‘Government Hooker’!”

---

“They don’t call you pop royalty for nothing, huh? You're going to take over the charts with that one!”

“Girl, who was that sexyass voice in that song? Drop me his number if you aren’t already with him.”

“Stunning as usual, huh?”

The whirlwind of congratulations and praise envelop you back at the Grammys afterparty. Your hand throbs from being clutched so tightly, and you can’t help but smile at the adrenaline and euphoria thrumming through your veins, washing away most of what happened earlier today. Yeah, you killed it.

But as you navigate through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and posing for photos, a nagging part of your mind keeps returning to Toji. Red, red to match your gown. He should’ve been here with you tonight.

Nodding and smiling along at the compliments, you find yourself drifting away from the bustling center of the party. Constantly checking your phone for any updates other than Nanami’s “He’s alive.” text from a few hours ago.

Ah, there it is.

Finally reaching the exit, goosebumps erupt along your skin as you step out into the chilly night air. You’re momentarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi outside. Their shouts merging into an indistinguishable cacophony.

Yet, you push forward, determined to reach your awaiting car.

Just as you approach the curb, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulls up beside you, tinted windows shielding the figure inside. God, you gotta remember to give Nanami a raise.

Swiftly sliding in, “Nanami you wouldn’t believe-”

“I’d hope I don’t look anything like that walking resignation letter.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn towards the figure seated beside you, and there he is. Toji.

All signature smirk and twinkling eyes despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.

A gasp leaves as your eyes catch on them, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Wait, what are you even doing here- You’re hurt, are you even okay- Should we call the ambulance? Those look like-”

“Woah woah, slow down princess. I’m clearly alive, hm? Why, shouldn’t your muse be there to personally pick you up?” he chuckles. “Besides, you killed it out there. That shit was playing was all that every radio was playing for the last hour.”

You can’t help but laugh at his teasing tone, relief flooding through you at the sound of his voice. “Well, you are the exception.” Reaching over and gently cupping his cheek, that small scar was rough against your thumb.

Leaning in, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you take in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hand rests protectively on your thigh.

“Thank you.” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. And though you don’t specify for what - both of you know. Both of you understand. Your lips meet his in a lingering kiss, he tastes of mint and the anticipation of something new and freeing.

Pulling away slightly, his gaze meets yours with a rare little vulnerability. “Always, princess.” A raw second of silence.

One. Two. Before a smug smirk curls his lips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Now, I remember someone wanting to be eaten out till she cried as a reward?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Right here, right now?”

“Think we’ll make the front page, princess?”

“I know so.”

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s right now, giggling amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and forgotten afterparties, that you think you just might love him.

A/N. Actually frothing at the mouth I want him so bad y’all. Also, reader isn’t Lady Gaga, I just think the song fit.

Reblogs so, so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 8 months

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DPXDC prompt ~ Honor to Us All ~ Gotham as one true the most haunted city edition

~~~~~

Instead of a welcoming banner in front of a city was an old column, so familiar to a boy, with a warning inscription:

"To outsiders mad enough to attack Gotham: You will be forced to understand that dead soldiers will also go into battle. And having risen to protect, they will be ready to perish all again, So no one of the living would die near them."

Danny smiled with love. 'I’m home, Mother.' Ghost whispered into the void. And Gotham answered.

~~~~

Danny: My Lady, I brought you the crown of Pariah Dark. And The Ring of Rage. They’re gifts to honor the Gotham family. Lady Gotham: The greatest gift and honor is having you on my side, child.

~~~~~

Danny Fenton was born in Gotham and lived here until his parents decided to move. The city didn’t accept them.

'When I die, I want to be one of the Gotham Knights.' Little Danny with pride and eagerly reported to his parents after visiting the Battle Glory of Gotham Museum on a school trip. This evening, Danny learned that not all his plans should be told to his parents.

Danny know his parents are crazy about ghosts. and that all ghosts are "bad". But obviously, the ghosts they talk about, and his, or rather Gotham's, ghosts are completely different creatures. The spirits of the defenders are those who, even in the darkest of times, make the shadows of the Gotham a protection to the citizens.

But that knowledge is his little secret for now. Because if he starts arguing he’ll be punished and he won’t be able to run off to the roof where he’s arranged to meet Robin. Robin’s cool! He works with one of the 'still-living' knights. And he knows more about the city than anyone. Danny doesn’t want to offend his friend.

~~~~~

Mr Lancer doesn’t understand why the lecturer about ghosts, Constantine, after seeing Danny, said something about the bloody gothamites and their inability to stay underground. It wasn’t nice at all. Mr Lancer doesn’t blame Mr Fenton for smiling at the man a little aggressive and viciously. Poor boy probably didn’t know how to respond to his behavior. Danny moved to Amity Park a long time ago and did not stand out at all. So what was this man’s problem?

Danny only half dies because Lady Gotham blessed him when he was a child. So when Danny sees snow-white hair and glowing green eyes in the mirror, he is not frightened but surprised that the Lady protected him even though he is not living in Gotham now.

~~~~~

Danny knows gothamites don’t consider that Gotham is a part of the USA. Even their Metropolis neighbors are just pathetic cowards, unable to withstand the hardships of life. No, really. Why the hell would they be patriots of the country that thinks they’re its dirty secret? This opinion is shared by old ones and children, rich ones and residents of Crime Alley, heroes and villains.

Danny loves Gotham. And he likes local jokes about how if one of their supervillains ever took power enough to threaten the government, he would be obliged to release them from that citizenship. Otherwise, he would be shamed and ridiculed by the inhabitants.

Phantom is not a villain. But for Gotham? For their common purpose? He is ready to pretend to be.

~ A ghost can bring his city ~ Great honor in one way ~

Gothamites remember that the child of mad scientists was the only person Boy Wonder was willing to call a friend. They remember how boys' laughter was heard from rooftops and from alleys on particularly dark nights. And they know whose restless spirit has returned to mourn the death of the second Robin.

The boy’s parents must be fools. Many outsiders are. They call their blessing a curse. People die in Gotham. And not all of them come back. Residents know that these ones are chosen by Lady Gotham herself.

The public enemy of Amity Park number 1? What nonsense. He is not theirs anything! In Gotham they will accept the Phantom as a guard, as a silent shadow, as a villain or a hero. In any kind. Because he belongs here. He should be part of their dance between life and death. He should be amidst dark alleys and acid rains, gliding between fear and laughter in the air.

Even local villains experience strange yearning. Like something’s wrong. Like a piece of a puzzle that’s lost. Therefore, the local abandoned observatory is empty, and none of them is in a hurry to call it their territory. Because it will be in demand, it will be loved and needed. It’s only a matter of time.

Let the spirit of Gotham guide you home, child. Dead gothamite is still gothamite. Which means there will always be a place for you.

~~~~~

When Danny first enters his favorite cafe in his Phantom form and with a wound on his leg, he doesn’t expect a cleaning lady to yell at him immediately for the blood on the floor. With a mop in his hands and with already bandaged leg, Danny feels as if all his worries had gone. They are not afraid of him. Of course. No one in Gotham would avoid him because of glowing eyes and sharp teeth. And that’s nice.

The waitress throws a tray of food on a table next to him: Welcome dinner for the wandering son of the alley. Red Hood said it's your usual order. He’ll be waiting for you on the gargoyle. You should know which one.

~~~~

If parents listened to his childhood stories about good ghosts, they would know that the Phantom is not special. He is not an anomaly of ghost nature and not a mistake. He is one of many who always were and will be defenders of the city. Danny stands in front of the costume that he admired years ago. He's ready to take another shift at work. The remains of his colleagues can rest quietly this night. Lady will wake them only when in dire need.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc memes #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover

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starboyshoyo · 1 year

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Tropes-To-Lovers

Characters: All NRC boys x fem!reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff

What were you to the NRC boys, before you were lovers?

Includes: Childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers.

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Trey Clover the boy next door

Everyone and their mother knows Trey Clover, the golden boy in your little provincial town. Sweet, intelligent, and he can bake? He’s a heartthrob in every definition of the word. But Trey’s only ever had eyes for you, his parents’ best friends’ daughter and the girl next door.

Joined at the hip from the moment you met, you’ve done it all together- but Trey’s been away at NRC for three years. You were sure he would move to the city after getting a taste of the wider world. So you’re caught off-guard when he returns to take over his family’s bakery, eight inches taller than you remember.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he sees you, and you can feel the firmness of muscles under his shirt when you launch yourself at him, embracing him tightly. He has to bend down to hug you now, you realize. And his face is sharper now, jaw angular instead of the soft cheeks you were used to. When did that happen?

And when did he get so handsome?

Leona Kingscholar betrothed to his brother

Leona has only ever had one friend- you, the heir from the neighboring kingdom. It shouldn’t be a problem to love you the way he does, but the stars in the sky had other plans, it seemed. Because from the moment you were born, you were meant to marry Falena.

Leona has long-since learned that no matter what he does, he’ll never be enough to win the public’s love. It didn’t matter that he knew you never had feelings for Falena, or that Falena was seeing someone else in secret. His brother will be king, not him. He’ll watch you walk down the aisle towards him, and then he’ll go back to his room and take a nap, and tell himself that he won’t be upset. That’s just the way life will be.

One day, while napping behind a curtain in the royal library, he catches wind of something so very interesting. Your parents arrived in the kingdom that morning, bearing news: Falena’s engagement has been peaceably broken, by your own choice, nonetheless. It’s a huge, life-changing decision and so a formal dinner is being held, to re-discuss the terms of the treaty. Leona wants to snap you up right away to be his, but he has to bide his time. For now, he’ll meet your eye across the banquet table, scowl softening a little. He should have known that he has always been king in your heart.

Silver childhood soulmates

Right person, right place, right time. Rarely did the universe ever align so beautifully. From your first meeting at the tender age of five to the time you were accepted into NRC, Silver has always been by your side.

He’s the first thing you see when you wake up in the mornings and the final good night you say before going to sleep. When small birds land on your desk and deposit gifts of acorns and flowers to you, you know exactly who they were from and who was thinking of you at the moment. And when you look at your handsome knight, you can’t help but imagine him by your side, every step of the way for the rest of your life.

Silver is more than just your best friend and first love. He is your person, through and through.

Best Friends to Lovers

Epel Felmier first friend, first love

You met Epel on the first day of school, getting beat up by a blonde upperclassman in the hallway. Much to the surprise of both boys, you jumped in to help him- pulling him off the ground and scolding the taller boy, who merely scoffed and wandered off. Though Epel’s ego was a bit bruised, he was grateful to you for helping him.

Epel became your constant companion after that. You could listen to him talk for hours while laying on the floor of your dorm room, a bag of apple chips in hand. His roguish accent and mischievous jokes charm you a little more each day, making him more than just the rough-hewn boy you met at the entrance ceremony not long ago.

His grandparents know all about you from the letters he sends home. Even in ink, they can sense his lovestruck heart. They had felt the same way when they started courting all those years ago. The Felmier family are fools in love, it seems. You would call him your best friend if someone asked, but Epel wants to be so much more.

Ace Trappola best friends to lovers

It’s pathetic how fast Ace changed his tune. The first time he met you, he was jeering you for being a magicless human. Now, he’s in love with you? When did that happen? And why did it have to be with you of all people?

Ace isn’t fooling himself. He knows why it’s you. It’s simply because no one could ever capture his heart the same way you do, with your smiles and your laughs and the way you look at him in both disapproval and exasperated fondness when he makes a crude joke.

Don’t act surprised when he holds your hand out of the blue or when he searches your face with those eyes, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you silly right then and there. He wants you, not anyone else, and it’s driving him crazy.

Kalim Al-Asim what are we?

Everyone thinks you and Kalim are dating already. You joke about it all the time. Oh, yeah, we’re partners in crime! Soulmates! Two sides of the same coin- but the line between teasing and reality has begun to blur. Once, you even made a jibe that you’d marry him one day, and Kalim got you an actual ring! It was so extravagant- a ruby inlaid with smaller gilded gems along the edges. He told you it was a family treasure, kept in the storerooms of Scarabia and just waiting to adorn the hand of the right person.

You tried to refuse, but he insisted. Money wasn’t something the Al-Asim heir ever had to worry about. So you go along with it, the golden band rubbing between your fingers and his when you walk down the halls, hands interlaced.

How does Kalim really feel about you? You’re not sure, so one day you ask- Kalim, what are we?

He looks at you curiously. “Aren’t we engaged?”

Strangers to Lovers

Deuce Spade the hallway crush

Every day between alchemy and history of magic, Deuce finds himself scanning faces in the hallway for someone who makes his face flush and his palms turn sweaty. And every day when you catch his eye and send him a wave, he finds himself tangled up a little more in his heartstrings, tripping over his feet as he tries to return your greeting.

He’s not sure when he first noticed you. Maybe it was when he fumbled and nearly dropped a potion on the carpet, and you caught it. His heart did flutter a bit then, but maybe that was because he nearly messed up the project he had been working on all night. He wants to talk to you again so badly- more than just a ‘hello‘ or a ‘thanks.’ He wants to brighten up your day just by walking by, like you do for him. Maybe if he becomes an honors student, then you’ll finally notice him too.

Jack Howl the mysterious savior

Being hounded by a group of rogue students wasn’t in your plans for the day. Trying to slip between the mob, avoiding their prying hands and sharp words, a sudden growl makes them all look up. A tall boy with wolflike ears towers over them.

Leave them alone. His voice is sharp, like a dog's canines. Golden eyes meet yours, steely and cold, but they soften for a moment when you manage to say thank you.

Your savior rubs the back of his neck. ‘S nothing, he says gruffly, but the lingering traces of blush on his face tell a different story. Only when he leaves do you realize that you had never gotten his name. Perhaps fate will lead you to meet once again, in the near future.

Azul Ashengrotto love at first sight

One minute he’s discussing the best way to mix a potion with his lab partner. The next, he’s sitting straight in his chair, eyes blown wide when you walk into the room. You’ve ensnared Azul Ashengrotto’s attention and heart without a single word. And when you finally say hi to him, ignorant of his shady dealings and strange company, he’s caught- hook, line, and sinker.

Azul begins to do things for you. Not in the way he does for others, with a flourish of his pen and a snap of his fingers. No, you’re special. He could never ask anything of you.

It’s so obvious, the way he favors you and gives you the best of everything he has. But he can’t bring himself to care- not when this new feeling brings him such happiness.

Idia Shroud closer than he thought

Idia Shroud has never met you irl. No way. All you are to him is a profile picture on a leaderboard, telling him to dodge the next attack or that he’ll never beat you in the latest game the two of you are playing. You make his gloomy days a little brighter. And when they’re brighter, he finally takes a chance to step outside for a bit and go to class.

In class is where he met you. His charming desk partner, whose presence he enjoyed far more than he thought he would. He likes your jokes. He likes that you play the same games as him and nerd out about the same topics. But when he returns to the world of online anonymity, he can’t help but feel disloyal- so much so that he doesn’t notice the lilt of the voice in his speakers is the same one that rings in his ears when he falls asleep in class.

Malleus Draconia love from afar

No one knows who you are, a mere human who attends NRC. You could be dangerous as far as his retainers know. Malleus isn’t supposed to speak with you- but oh, does he want to.

He’s tried to ignore the pull towards you, but he just can’t. Why is this mere child of man lingering in his thoughts, ensnaring his every waking moment?

One night when Sebek is busy berating Silver for falling asleep on the job, he sneaks away and finds you beneath the moonlight, staring up at the stars. He’s caught like a fly in a web from the first hello.

Enemies to Lovers

Riddle Rosehearts academic rivals

He’s so annoying. With a loud voice, short stature, and short temper, you could consider Riddle Rosehearts to always be underfoot. But even you have to admire his academic prowess, his name topping the scores at every turn. And just under him, is you. How very frustrating.

You’re so focused on one-upping one another that you don’t even catch yourself when thoughts of him wander into your mind throughout the day. Of course you think of him, you’re trying to beat him. But slowly the competition turns into wondering. What does he do in his free time? What’s his favorite food, his favorite color?

Little do you know, he thinks of you too.

Ruggie Bucchi the goodhearted thief

You heard from your neighbors about the slum thief who steals things from their shops. It’s only a matter of time before he comes to you next, they warn, so be ready.

And ready you are. When a skinny boy with rounded ears atop his head tries to slip something into his pocket, you call him out. And when he dashes away, you scramble after him- tackling him in a paved alley near some dumpsters. Cans go crashing over to reveal several homeless youngsters, shivering in the cold and barely more than bones. The boy tosses the food to them before you can intervene- but why would you, when you’ve just seen what you saw?

When he comes into the bakery next time, you make sure he pays. But you also slip an extra loaf or two into his order, with a wink and a nod. Your conversations become a bit longer, a bit friendlier. He’s quite charming and you have to berate yourself for falling for a thief.

He’s stolen your heart, hasn’t he?

Floyd Leech the hallway bully

Floyd Leech. Just his name makes you groan and roll your eyes. It’s not just you he teases you in the hallway by holding your things over his head, but you seem to be his favorite. How are you supposed to get your notebook back when it’s dangling almost 8 feet above the ground, courtesy of his freakishly long arms?

The graceful solution you come up with is to kick him. Right in his eel, to summarize. His twin brother is by his side in an instant while you walk off.

Jade expects Floyd to be livid. But even when he’s doubled up on the ground in pain, he’s got a grin plastered across his face.

His shrimpy is such a badass.

Jamil Viper flirting rivals

For someone who’s usually level-headed and cool, you sure bring out Jamil’s temper. He can find a million ways to insult and discredit you, but still you’ll bounce back with some snarky, suggestive comment that just makes his blood boil.

He swears he can feel your eyes on him from across the hallways. It makes him want to pull his hood up over his face. But when you approach him, he’s as calm as ever. Why are you leaning closer, prefect, and running your hands over his tie? He’s not going to fall for your ruse, so don’t even try.

Still, his eyes can’t help but wander down to your lips, wondering if they would taste like he imagined.

Rook Hunt one-sided annoyance

It seems like you’ve gained yourself a one-man paparazzi recently. If Rook is meant to be a hunter, you have to wonder if he’s any good at his job. He never seems to conceal his presence, following you down the hallways brazenly while spouting off fake compliments about your demeanor and beauty.

Well, you thought they were fake. It’s hard to believe anyone is genuine in a school full of villains, but you might have caught the attention of the one person who actually is. His company isn’t so bad sometimes, especially when you can talk his ear off about anything and everything.

Sebek Zigvolt forced proximity

This was meant to be a partner project, not a threeway. But being paired with the great Malleus Draconia means putting up with his annoying, self-proclaimed bodyguard for the next week as well.

You pity Sebek’s alchemy partner, because he’s ignoring his own work in favor of hovering over you and his liege. His loud, unsolicited advice and passive-aggressive comments don’t make him any more bearable. By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re about ready to drop-kick him into the cauldron.

Thankfully, you and Malleus get your work done early. When you’re packing up your things to leave, you find Sebek quiet for once, deep in concentration as he rushes to finish his own work.

I don’t need the help of a human, he proclaims in that loud, obnoxious bark of his. But he doesn’t complain when you settle down next to him, stirring the potion while he measures out ingredients.

Exes to Lovers

Cater Diamond the one that got away

Cater knows you probably hate his guts. Hell, he hates his own guts for fucking up so badly. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he drove you away with his constant neediness and self-deprecation. It took him years to realize that he was so focused on himself that he didn’t realize that you needed support too.

He’s been lonely for a while, working on himself and his problems in the shadows. It’s been a while since he last saw you- he knows you might not want to see him again anyways, but he’s changed now- both for himself and for you.

Cater wants you back, if you’ll have him.

Jade Leech second chance romance

Jade was nothing more than a talking stage that never got off the ground. He was fun to be around and a good hiking partner, but you stopped seeing him after first year ended and you no longer shared a class together.

You didn’t think of him much throughout your second and third year at NRC . But when you arrive at your new work study to meet your partner for the program, a tall, familiar figure greets you at the door.

“Jade?”

Vil Schoenheit right person, wrong time

Vil has no one but himself to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He broke things off with you after his manager advised him to- she said that a young, taken idol isn’t marketable. You need to think about your image.

The stage lights blinded him and he dropped you without a second thought. Any trace of you in his life was erased; smoothed over to perfection like a beauty filter.

But oh, how Vil regrets it when he scrolls on his phone late at night, your Magicam account pulled up to a photo of you laughing. What he wouldn’t give to have you smile like that at him again.

The icon for a DM request sits beside your profile picture. Vil regards it for a second, finger hovering over the button, then clicks.

Lilia Vanrouge facing the future

Lilia has always known that humans live short lives. In his time, he’s seen countless people born and died. It’s just a fact of human life; a phenomena he watches from the outside in- disconnected. It doesn’t dawn on him that yours too will run out until Malleus points it out- and then Lilia becomes scared.

He’ll cut you off, hiding in the shadows and avoiding your eyes until a great danger almost befalls you. It is then that Lilia realizes he’d rather have loved and lost you than never have known you at all.

Please, stay with him. You have the rest of your life, however short or long, to live by his side. Lilia would gladly warp time and face the consequences just for one more minute with you.

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rochenn · 4 months

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The year is 2034. Disney announces the production of the show "Resistance: Dooku of Serenno", set during the early days of the Empire, starring CG Christopher Lee.

We begin with a flashback to Revenge of the Sith. After Dooku is beheaded, we learn that he used the Force to supply his brain with blood and oxygen. The movie is visibly retconned - as Obi-Wan, Anakin and Palpatine flee the Invisible Hand, four human parts can be spotted stealthily floating after them.

Dooku, being Dooku, survives the crash and manages to steal away. His head is surgically reattached. Don't ask why nobody else ever stitched their lightsaber-chopped limbs back on. He ends up getting prosthetic hands, anyway. David Filoni said in a behind-the-scenes interview that he thought they were cool.

Previously established canon prevents Dooku from doing anything in-character until Order 66. He lets loose in Coruscant's undercity and becomes the local kooky old man who couldn't possibly be public enemy number one until Mace Windu, freshly fried and unhanded, crashes down in front of him. What a coincidence.

Mace is still played by Sam L. Jackson. He is So Old. He is only there for the paycheck. Disney didn't know how to recast him. He is acting alongside the shell of a man who has been dead for two decades.

After a joke about missing hands that is very funny, the two get along swimmingly. They don't really talk about Dooku's various war crimes. "My droid army would never traumatize a young child," Dooku says with a wink into the camera. Remember to buy your Mandalorian merch.

Mace and Dooku organize an underground resistance on Coruscant in the spirit of the Confederacy. Mace is okay with this. Choice aspects of this arc are compelling, like the fight against fascism under the yoke of cruel state suppression, but tone-deaf allusions to the work of Sophie Scholl cause controversy abroad. Andor did it better. Critics on YouTube who thus far lauded the return of fan favorites and 'faithful casting' tear into the show for pushing the woke agenda.

Nothing Mace and Dooku accomplish has any impact on the Original Trilogy. What were you expecting? The end of the show teases a second season with the arrival of a mysterious woman. Dooku's secret wife. You never knew of her because she was never relevant before. As the final credit music slowly creeps in, she says: "Don't you want to see your son?"

The music swells and we cut to Serenno. The planet has never been mentioned throughout all 15 episodes of the show. Standing in the ruins of Dooku's castle is Dooku's son: back turned to the viewer, gazing into the sunset. Dooku II of Serenno, proud heir, turns his head. He is played by Harry Styles.

Roll credits.

#count dooku #i #I'm actually so sorry I don't know what overcame me #i wrote this in a trance #shitpost

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heritageposts · 6 months

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. . . But in 1948 Israel declared its sovereignty from the British Mandate through the besiegement of indigenous Palestinians. The new nation retained Regulation 133(3) with an important caveat: It was amended to give military commanders complete control over where a body is buried, as opposed to the original “community to which such person belongs.” This is the legal basis of postmortem detention, and over the last 80 years the scope of the law has expanded greatly. Namely, who is subject to postmortem detention by the military (from “enemy soldier” to the blanket term “terrorist”) and when the state is entitled to seize bodies (from “times of war” to “forever war on terror”). Regulation 133(3) can now impose restrictions on funerals when a body is returned to a family. When Palestinian prisoner Mustafa Arabat succumbed to torture in 1992, Israeli courts ruled in favor of the military to enforce that his funeral be held in the middle of the night and only attended by immediate family. Today, families whose bodies are eventually returned to them must abide by the military’s rules on how to express their final rites. Israeli law explicitly defines these funerals as a threat to “public order” and grants soldiers power over a family’s grieving.

. . . full article on The Nation (29 June, 2023)

[archived link]

#palestine #israel #gaza #i've seen this article spread around before but here it is with an archived link (which lets you bypass the paywall)

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 9 months

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secret - jeonghan & seungcheol (m)

summary: new boyfriend!jeonghan & ex!seungcheol. your relationship with jeonghan is still new, and your breakup with cheol is still fresh. the three of you used to be close, but time, new jobs, and moving to different countries pulled you apart. now jeonghan is back home, filthy rich and very single. so are you. after some fun at a party, you start dating jeonghan seriously. will cheol’s return send you back into his arms, or will you stand by your man? or, perhaps, a mysterious third thing will happen instead :)

word count: 27k (don’t look at me)

warnings: afab reader. eventual threesome. lots of sex. lots of cum, creampie, cum mixing, cum eating? oral (m and f receiving). bondage. use of the color system. use of a vibrator in public. fingering. car sex kinda. some ass slapping? use of the word slut.

masterlist

waking up at jeonghan’s was still a new experience for you. it’d been a few weeks since he asked you to move in with him, but it amazed you that you could open your eyes to an angel laying right next to you. today is no different. you rolled over after the first signs of morning woke you up, and you see jeonghan asleep with his hair slightly in his face, lips pouted in a silent snore. you brush the strands away from his eyes, and he lets out a noise between a hum and a groan.

“i’m sleeping,” he tells you.

“you’re doing a great job.”

“go back to sleep.”

“can’t, i’m bored now.”

“you’re insatiable,” he scolds, eyes snapping open because he knows what ‘bored’ really means. you spend the rest of the morning tangled in his sheets. er, your sheets. you live here now. jeonghan’s your boyfriend. isn’t that wild?

your relationship with jeonghan started because you were both bored. casual friends since college, you’ve known each other for years and never really knew each other. you weren’t confident you knew his last name until you heard it at graduation. after you graduated, you didn’t hear from him much, but that was more your fault than anything else. you broke his best friend’s heart. you were public enemy number one, until you weren’t anymore.

you and seungcheol dated all through college. you fell in love fast, something so sickly sweet it made people around you gag, and a little jealous. let’s be clear though: jeonghan wasn’t one of those people. when you were with cheol, you were 100% his, and jeonghan respected that more than anything else. he was a good friend to cheol, and by proxy a good friend to you. nothing more. until he wasn’t anymore.

your break up with cheol was messy. graduation took you both in different directions, and egos made it impossible for you to find a compromise. deep down, neither of you wanted to break up, you knew it was just the circumstances tearing you apart. but you chose your career and so did he, a stab to the chest that was self inflicted on both sides. when cheol chose his career, he also inadvertently chose jeonghan. they got jobs at the same great company abroad, and their twenty something brains couldn’t comprehend just how much fun they could get into as two handsome men with a lot of money.

you’re doing well for yourself too, thanks for asking. not as filthy rich as the boys, but you were living comfortably. you kept in touch with a good chunk of your college friends, catching the way they tried not to gossip too much about seungcheol’s shenanigans overseas when you were in earshot. that’s how you heard jeonghan was in town a few months ago. he was going to a party that night, and just as the idea pops into your head your friend turns to you and asks if you want to go.

the party, it turns out, was boring. the people there were also boring. what was exhilarating as hell was catching jeonghan’s gaze on you when you both knew it shouldn’t be. he’d play coy, turning away for at least a second before finding you again. finally tired of the conversation you can’t seem to escape, you keep staring back at jeonghan until he decides to come over and say hi.

“y/n,” he smiles that cheshire cat grin at you, pulling you in for a polite hug. “it’s been so long.”

“i know,” you agree, a similar smile plastered on your own face. “i see you haven’t cut your hair since you left?”

“what, you don’t like it?” he laughs, shaking his long locks out so that his bangs fall slightly into his eyes. he looks good, you find yourself thinking. he took the black tie memo on the invitation seriously, wearing a suit so stunningly fit to his body you know it must be custom.

“no, i like it,” you nod. “it’s a little douchey for a business man, but you make it work.”

“i thought being a douche was part of the job though?” he asks, and it’s your turn to laugh. jeonghan takes a sip of his drink, surveying the room before he turns back to you, “nice party.”

“sure,” you nod. “a little boring though.”

“stuffy too,” he tries, eyeing you carefully. “you wanna join me on the balcony?”

you knew going out there with jeonghan was a bad idea. you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him. you knew a lot of things were wrong with this scene, but too much of you wanted to see where it would go. turns out, it would go downhill pretty quickly.

you joined jeonghan outside, letting the cool air brush off your nerves. you look at jeonghan and find him staring at you again, so you ask, “is my makeup smudged or something? you keep looking at me.”

“i can’t admire beautiful things?”

“nice,” you chuckle, looking down at your shoes next to his. “did you want to say anything special? or are we really just out here to breathe some air that doesn’t smell like chanel no.5?”

“it’s been a long time,” jeonghan says again, and you nod. “are you seeing anybody right now, y/n?”

“hah, no,” you shake your head. “kind of on a break from men, if i’m honest. i started attracting too many weirdos not worth my time.”

“shame,” jeonghan tsks. “must have been hard for you.”

“yeah,” you agree, finding his eyes again, “boring too.”

“are you bored right now?” jeonghan asks. “because i’m pretty good at killing time.”

“are you?” you challenge, and jeonghan hums. you feel a smile breaking across your face, your stomach doing flips as you say, “prove it then.”

that was about six months ago. if the owner of that venue’s asking, no you didn’t fuck jeonghan out on the balcony that night. anyone else asks and the answer would be yes, but you’d say it with a touch more dignity. you don’t know what attracted you to him so much that you had to have him right there. maybe you had been on your strike for too long, and you were just horny. or maybe it was the idea of something familiar. something safe. close to home. close to-

you’re ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of jeonghan calling your name. he had started a shower for himself before work, and now he’s all but begging you to come join him. why else would he have two shower heads, if not for you to spend some quiet time with your boyfriend who wants to dote on you before you start your day. or maybe he has them so it was less obvious to the builder that he wanted a shower he could have copious amounts of sex in. really, his obsession with shower sex probably needed to be analyzed by somebody, but he swears he likes it for ease (already naked) and just one personal reason (soapy boobs).

the past six months have been...interesting to say the least. you really care for jeonghan, you do. you always have. but getting to know him in this new sense was different. every day was a surprise with him. part of that was due to his job, a not-so-9-to-5 that he ditched his crazy life in europe for so he could be closer to family. he left a life of beautiful food, beautiful places, and seungcheol behind for a better opportunity. maybe that’s what bonded you so quickly. despite not really wanting to, you’d both abandoned seungcheol without meaning to.

you don’t talk about him much, only getting an update from jeonghan every so often when cheol deigns to text him back. they still work for the same parent company, so sometimes their paths cross in meetings or cheol has to call to confirm numbers with jeonghan’s new domestic team. other than that, there’s nothing to say. you’ve moved on (mostly) so you assume he has too. and now that you have jeonghan, you don’t have to worry about your feelings for cheol anymore.

jeonghan asked you to move in with him mostly because he was bored. he had just renovated this huge penthouse, and after throwing a couple rager parties there he realized it was too lonely when everyone left and it was just him there, alone. you’d been trying to make a career change, so he convinced you by promising you could stay rent free and save up for when you get a new job and most likely take a pay cut. plus, he doesn’t worry about rent here either. he paid for it upfront, in cash.

once you saw the penthouse, you knew you had to say yes. it was a dream, but what sold you was the view. standing at the floor to ceiling window, jeonghan’s hands around your waist, was the first time you’d felt something stir so deep in your heart for years. you haven’t said i love you yet to jeonghan, but then again neither has he. you know you care for each other through your actions. there’s love there, even if it’s unspoken right now. that’s part of what makes dating jeonghan so thrilling. you never know what he’s going to do next, a scheming smile on his lips and an exciting adventure planned for you no matter how big or how small.

jeonghan is pretty adventurous, to say the least. he likes taking you to new restaurants where you’re not really sure what you’re eating. he loves whisking you away for weekend trips to places neither of you have ever been. his favorite though is bending you to his will, pushing you farther than you’ve been pushed before, just to see what it would take to make you crack.

the sex with jeonghan is phenomenal. another aspect of your relationship where you never know what to expect. he likes to keep you guessing and gasping his name out in cracked moans. you started talking about things to do for his birthday, and when you asked what he wanted his only response was “you.” to some people that would be romantic, but you know it’s a challenge. it sent a shiver down your spine, much like his gaze whenever you catch his eyes at an event or get a random text throughout the day. you know when he’s bored it really means something else, so it’s become a code word of sorts. at tiring work parties or other obligations he wants out of, all he needs to do is look at you and yawn and you know to meet him in the closest secluded corner for a quick fuck. if he texts you that he’s bringing you lunch at work, you go ahead and tell your coworkers you’re taking the full hour, because you’ll need time to catch your breath and redress once he’s done with you.

today is one of those days, despite jeonghan’s best efforts earlier. you had a shitty morning after jeonghan left for work, almost forgetting your lunch, missing your train, all to come in and find out your biggest project to date is completely changing course. you were so frustrated you could cry, and when you texted jeonghan that you made it to work safely he knew something was off. he didn’t press though, knowing you well enough that asking what’s wrong instead of waiting for you to tell him will just start the waterworks early. instead he keeps his phone unlocked on his desk, completely ignoring whatever his assistant seungkwan is rambling about.

“we need you to sign off on this, jeonghan,” seungkwan insists, pointing again to the document on jeonghan’s desk that he’s ignoring to watch your three dots appear and disappear again. he half asses his signature without reading the document, and seungkwan snatches it away from him. jeonghan will talk to him about that later. for now, he picks up his phone to read about your awful day and let’s out a quiet “aw baby” for you. as soon as seungkwan leaves there’s another knock at the door. jeonghan knows he’s getting into meeting after meeting now so he types out something sweet and encouraging before he puts his phone in his desk, standing to welcome whoever is on the other side of the door.

jeonghan’s message boosted your mood, slightly. he knew how to sweet talk you, promising a bath, wine, and your favorite movie tonight when you get home. it was enough hope to get you through the day. that and imagining a cartoon anvil falling on this man in your meeting who keeps mansplaining the platform that you built. you’ve almost had it when you notice the clock, and you tell the team everyone should break for lunch. you all but run back to your desk before anyone can stop you, and when you’ve barely sat down you get a text.

“coming for lunch,” jeonghan simply says, and your heart skips a beat. you contemplate eating quickly before he gets here, but he says he’s so close by that you don’t even have a chance. you dig for your food in the break room fridge, knowing you won’t get a chance to eat if jeonghan’s coming. at this point it’s mostly for show, because you can’t make it obvious that you’re leaving just to stress fuck your boyfriend. you tell your manager you’ll be taking the whole hour anyway, and then scurry outside just as jeonghan’s expensive car pulls up to your building. he slows the car to a stop in front of you, the window already down so he can call out, “hey sexy, you seen my girlfriend around here?”

“sorry mister, my mom told me not to talk to strangers,” you joke back, and your bad mood lifts when jeonghan laughs.

“get in baby,” he says, watching you intensely as you slide into the front seat. he frowns at the food in your lap, picking up the grocery bag you shoved your lunch into before you left. “what is this?”

“a picnic?”

“there are dinosaur nuggets in here,” he grumbles when he takes a peek. he looks up to you and asks, “you were gonna eat this for lunch?”

“yeah,” you shrug. “i didn’t have time for breakfast because someone took too long in the shower, so i had to pack something.”

“i didn’t even know we had these in the house,” jeonghan continues, looking at the chicken nuggets like he’s never seen something so foul. he carefully ties the bag and then tosses it into his backseat, much to your dismay. he looks at you with a cheeky smile, his hand squeezing your chin as he starts to maneuver the car out of the parking lot. “look back there baby, i picked up real food for you.”

“i don’t wanna eat yet,” you say shyly, but jeonghan doesn’t hear so you have to repeat yourself. “i don’t wanna eat yet. don’t need all that sloshing around when you fuck me in a minute.”

“oh i’m gonna fuck you huh? and what if i just wanted to share a meal with my beautiful girlfriend?” he asks in fake shock. you lean across the armrest to kiss his cheek as you reply, “then i’d ask who you are and what have you done with yoon jeonghan.”

‘good girl,” he chuckles, expertly pulling the car into a parking spot in the empty spots at the back of the parking lot down the street from your office. for your sanity and jeonghan’s reputation, you pray there aren’t security cameras over here.

“so how was your morning?” you play coy as you watch jeonghan turn the car off. something passes over his face as he responds, but it’s there so shortly you don’t know how to read it.

“fine,” he clears his throat. “lots of meetings. almost got in a bitch fight with seungkwan because he didn’t want me to leave, said i’d be late to my next meeting.”

“he knows you well.”

“yeah, whatever,” jeonghan says as he twists in his seat to look at you directly. his hand is back on your chin, lifting it up so he can trace your lips with his thumb as he asks, “what was so bad about your morning?”

as you explain your trials, jeonghan slowly moves his hand from your chin down to your neck, across your collarbone, and down to the hem of your shirt. he carefully untucks it from your slacks, listening intently as you speak while unbuttoning your blouse slowly. when you get to the part about the jerk who assumed you didn’t know anything, jeonghan’s hand was working it’s way past your panties, his fingers dipping down to your entrance. he interrupts you only to ask, “damn baby, you this wet for me?”

“i’ve been wet since you texted me,” you say like its obvious, and jeonghan smiles proudly as he tells you to go on. you start recounting your meeting from hell, voice shaky now as his fingers circle your entrance and collect your slick so he can move them up to your clit, rubbing gently without applying too much pressure. when you’re finally done speaking, jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, pulling back only slightly so he can tell you, “i’m sorry baby. you know you could always come work with me, and then no one would treat you like anything less than a queen.” you sigh instead of responding because jeonghan’s slipped two fingers into you, your arousal providing enough glide that he didn’t have to work you open with just one. he hisses when he feels how warm you are, and jeonghan is reminded for the millionth time why he’d follow you to the ends of the earth and back. your eyes. your smile. the way you cuddle into his neck when you don’t want to get out of bed. and the glorious feeling of being inside you, whether it’s his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. he can’t get enough of you, and he knows you feel the same way because you’re already bucking your hips, begging him for more. he pretends not to hear you, just fucking his fingers into you slowly as he listens for the lewd squelch of your pussy around him.

“how’s it feel baby?” he asks quietly, and you whisper back that it feels good. “just good?”

“need more, hannie,” you whine, and he tuts.

“not yet,” he says as he checks the clock on the dashboard. “we’ve got time. you want another finger instead?”

“please,” you breathe out, and you watch him capture his tongue between his lips as he focuses on fucking you slowly. to fill the silence you ask quietly, “what did you bring for lunch?”

“i’m literally knuckles deep and you’d rather talk about the sandwich i bought you?” jeonghan laughs in disbelief. “i can’t believe you woman.”

“i told you, i didn’t eat this morning. i’m hungry.”

“need something in your mouth?” he asks, and as it so often is with jeonghan, you know this is a challenge. you think about what the right answer might be, and when you nod he lets a smile creep over his features as he says, “use your pretty little hands to get my cock out, then.”

you do as he says, gasping when you lean over to reach his crotch and feel jeonghan’s fingers slip deeper. with shaky hands you undo his belt, looking up to make sure jeonghan’s watching. his dark eyes glint at you from above, and you blow him a kiss before unbuttoning his pants to find he’s not wearing any underwear. you look back up and see his shit eating grin, shrugging as he says, “what? i was running late.”

“you’re a menace,” you hiss, his fingers scissoring inside you. he does this a few more times as you take his cock in your hand, and when you lick the tip he stills completely.

“don’t tease or i’ll stop right here,” he warns, so you get back to work, welcoming his cock past your lips and hollowing your cheeks so you can bob on his cock quickly. you’ve done this enough to know jeonghan wants something quick, messy, something that will make you embarrassed to face your coworkers after. you’re constantly shocked by his willpower though, moaning around him as his thumb finds your clit and starts drawing lazy circles. the vibrations of your moans shoot straight through jeonghan, but he shows no sign of mercy or that this is even affecting him at all.

you groan and bob your head faster, using the saliva pooling past your lips as lube to stroke the rest of his cock. you pull off of him to catch your breath, jeonghan whispering encouragement above you as his hand stills at your core. he only starts moving again when you lean down to kitten lick his balls, legs twitching ever so slightly at the contact. you’re happy to have some kind of reaction from him, your ego boosted enough that you take a few more playful licks before holding him by the base and tapping his cock over your lips and waiting tongue. he watches you amused, waiting for you to give in, and when he shoves yet another finger inside your pussy you moan so loud your eyes roll back slightly, and jeonghan admires the way a little bit of drool drips past your lips onto his seat. he swipes it up with his free hand and pops the finger in his mouth, winking at you as you watch.

you take him back into your mouth, ready to come and wanting to show him how good you can be, so you swallow around him until his cock is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is nestled against his lap, the smell of his expensive detergent drowning your senses. you’re brought back to visions of him fucking you senseless in his king bed, the sweet smell of fresh linen mingling with the scent of sex as jeonghan pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you. you shudder just at the memory, and he chuckles as he asks what you’re thinking about. you start to pull off of him to reply, but his hand stops you, chuckling as he says, “good girls don’t talk with their mouth full.”

you let him hold you down on his cock, giving up on sucking him off as you feel yourself get closer to release. jeonghan knows, so he holds you in place while he works you up to your orgasm, almost shrieking around his cock. you look up at him just as his eyes flutter, his hips sputtering as he starts to come. he keeps working you to your own high, and feeling jeonghan twitch as he comes down your throat sends you over the edge. his seat is almost ruined he thinks, seeing the way your release drips down his wrist. he groans as he watches you shake below him, always thinking you’re a work of art like this. he can’t help but admire it, and when he’s sure you’re done he moves his hand from the back of your head, reaching for your chin to carefully pull you off of him. you stick your tongue out for him to see that you swallowed it all, and he coos as he finally pulls his fingers from your core. he could be nice, he thinks, and just let you lick them clean, but instead he runs them across your face and watches as you lick at the arousal left behind. he swears he sees more drip out of you, and he has to look away or else you’ll never leave this car.

“you ok baby?” he asks as you try to clean yourself up and avoid the puddle you left in your seat.

“i’m great,” you say hoarsely, looking in the glovebox for napkins just to find a vibrator and handcuffs instead. you hold them up and jeonghan just smirks, saying, “i didn’t know what kinda mood you were in. i’m like a boy scout, gotta be prepared.”

“you don’t happen to have any of my makeup in this magic glovebox of yours do you?” you ask as you look at yourself in the rearview mirror, heart still racing from your high but somehow picking up speed when you see how fucked out you are and jeonghan barely did anything. he could drive you crazy, you think. when he softly pushes your arm off the center console to reveal everything you could possibly ever need (gum, jeonghan’s favorite lipstick on you, wipes, hand sanitizer, a pair of panties? and your favorite concealer and mascara) you think you could cry. this is what you mean when you say jeonghan loves you through his actions. he further drives that home as he reaches back for your lunch, mumbling to himself, “can’t believe she was gonna eat dino nuggets.”

when you come home that day, you’re giddy like a schoolgirl. because everything with jeonghan is still so new, sometimes it just hits you that you have a boyfriend. a boyfriend that you live with, and that always makes sure he’s home before you are so he can wrap you in a hug and kiss your forehead as soon as you get through the door. you’ve pavlov’d yourself into expecting this every time you get back from work, but today when you open the door and call out his name you’re met with silence. your eyes sweep across the living room and notice his briefcase tossed onto the couch, so you know he’s here somewhere. you head to the kitchen, stomach growling, and try to find a snack before you go searching for jeonghan.

as you’re cutting up a mango, you hear soft steps padding down the stairs and jeonghan’s hushed voice on the phone. you strain to hear what he’s saying, wondering if this is a work call or something else. maybe he’s booking a reservation he doesn’t want you to hear about, but too bad. you leave the kitchen with the plate of mango in your hands, quietly joining him on the couch as he gives you a strained smile. you smile back, kissing the corner of his mouth before holding up a piece of mango for him, humming contently when he takes it despite saying something to whoever’s on the other side of the phone. you’ve ascertained that he’s setting up a meeting, and while you usually don’t pay too much attention to the specifics of his job you can tell he’s being vague. you watch him a little longer, absentmindedly licking the mango juice off your fingers before whispering that you’re going to your room, and jeonghan nods at you before smacking your ass as you walk away. he chuckles quietly when you let out a squeal, but his heart drops to his ass when he registers what’s being said on the other line.

“what was that?” seungcheol asks, and jeonghan’s hand heats up where he just touched you. “you need me to let you go?”

“no, no, i was just getting my mail and bumped into my neighbor,” jeonghan lies easily, hoping cheol is gullible enough to buy it.

“big important guy like you i figure you’d have someone to do that for you,” cheol laughs, and jeonghan gives him a pity chuckle before bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“so when’s your flight?”

“end of this week,” seungcheol sighs. “i’m not ready to leave yet, man. i’m gonna miss how beautiful everything is here.”

“life on this side of the world isn’t too bad,” jeonghan tells him.

“yeah sure, with all the mail you’ve been getting i bet it’s nice,” cheol teases, and jeonghan should’ve known his friend would see through him quickly.

“whatever,” jeonghan laughs. “just let me know when you’re in town and we’ll get dinner before the meeting.”

“you’re a classy man, yoon jeonghan,” cheol says, and jeonghan’s throat constricts ever so slightly. if only his friend knew who was in his bed right now, maybe cheol wouldn’t be so kind.

jeonghan tiredly trudges upstairs, ears perking up at the sound of music coming from the bedroom. he cracks the door to see you leaning against the copious amount of pillows, scrolling through your phone as you snack on the mango at your side. you look up at the sound of the door, smiling softly at jeonghan. you’re about to beckon him over, but he takes a deep breath and says, “i’ve got to tell you something.”

“oh,” you breathe out, a little worried about what it could be. you pat the spot next to you regardless, and jeonghan perches on the bed cautiously, almost like he doesn’t want to be close to you when he says what he has to say. you’re nervous for a moment, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t what you expected. he’s not about to tell you he did something wrong, he’s about to tell you something he’s afraid of.

“seungcheol is coming back,” he starts, and before you can even react he says, “he can’t know about us.”

“he-what?” you ask, and jeonghan reaches for your hands as he settles on the bed, trying to bring you closer as he explains, “he’s coming back to work at my company. i didn’t hire him, i swear. we apparently acquired whatever business he was running, so now he’ll be managing it under me. he called to tell me the good news. he’s coming back this friday. and he can’t know that we’re together.”

“why not?”

“because it’s...weird,” jeonghan says nervously.

“what about us is weird, jeonghan?” you ask, and he can tell he messed up.

“no, baby, that’s not what i mean,” he tries to backtrack. “i just. for a little while. it might be best for you to...not come around so often?”

“what, so i just stop coming to your work parties?” you ask, and jeonghan closes his eyes as your frustrations rise. “can’t come visit you on my days off? and when you invite people out after work for drinks, i assume he’ll come with you. so i’m just supposed to sit at home all the time now?”

“honey, i’m sorry,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell there’s a little bit of hurt there. “i just don’t know how we could explain this to him, and it’ll be hard enough getting him integrated into the company. i don’t want this to fail before it even starts, so, for now, he can’t know. but you’re still my number one, baby. i don’t know how you could ever think otherwise,” he says softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. you’re quiet as you think of how to respond, and you let jeonghan use his hand on your neck to guide you in for a tender kiss. against your lips he says, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry,” you sigh, leaning back in to kiss him again. “i’m proud of you for acquiring his company, that’s big,” jeonghan nods, “and i agree, it’d be too weird to explain. honestly i don’t know that i want to see him at all. but this means i’ll see less of you,” you pout, and with jeonghan’s hand still on your neck you feel his grip tighten.

“impossible,” he whispers, pecking your lips quickly before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. “mm, you taste like mango.”

“yeah?”

“lemme taste something else,” he says with a smirk, and soon you’ve forgotten what he came in here to tell you in the first place.

a different version of you would’ve been upset that you could forget cheol so easily. for a long time, you thought he was the great love of your life. but if both of you would pick something else over each other so quickly, maybe your love wasn’t that great after all. you had settled into your life without seungcheol, so it makes sense that you forgot about his return so quickly.

for seungcheol though? he’s wondering if he should call you. at least let you know he’s gonna be back in town. he won’t say that he’s staying, he’ll open the conversation and see what you do with it. he just wants to see you, see how you’re doing. a selfish part of him wants you to see how well he’s doing too, and he thinks for a moment that he should get the gang back together and invite jeonghan. he decides against it only because he wants some time alone with you to apologize. if this goes well, then he can think about jeonghan coming along.

when cheol picks up his phone to call you, jeonghan is staring sappily into your eyes over dinner. you’ve had a rough week at work, so jeonghan insisted on comfort food at his favorite fancy place. he wanted to pamper you tonight, starting with giving you the shoes you’ve been salivating over for weeks now. he helped you get dressed and took his time kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach. now, over a plate of the most delicious pasta you’ve ever had, jeonghan is listening to you passionately talk about god knows what. he could listen to you talk like this for hours, but you stop mid-sentence and start looking for something.

“what’s wrong baby?” he asks, reluctantly letting your hand slip out of his so you can twist around in your chair.

“i’m looking for my phone, it’s ringing,” you mumble as you struggle to untangle your purse from the back of your chair.

“but baby,” he whines. “we’re on a date.”

“you know my mom usually calls me around this time,” you point out as you find your phone. “i at least need to check that it’s-”

“what?” jeonghan asks, noticing the confusion on your face. “not your mom?”

“no? it’s a weird number,” you say, showing him quickly. it looks familiar, and when jeonghan realizes why it’s too late. “hello?” you ask quietly, not wanting to be the annoying person on the phone in a public place, but curiosity got the best of you.

“y/n?” seungcheol asks, and your breath catches in your throat. “y/n? hello?”

“seungcheol, hi,” you respond, looking at jeonghan with your eyes wide. he sits back in his chair and groans, but the sound of the restaurant covers it up. “um, what’s up?”

“how are you?” cheol asks, and you give him a curt response. “listen, i can tell you’re out doing something, but i just wanted to let you know i’m coming back home. i mean, i’m leaving my job in europe and taking on a new role here. with jeonghan. kind of. it’s his company. whatever, i’m rambling, i just wanted to let you know-”

“hang up,” jeonghan mouths, and you shake your head, listening to cheol talk himself in circles a little more. jeonghan reaches across the table and tugs on your arm but you swat him away, whispering a fierce warning to stop.

“sorry, seungcheol, um, that sounds like a great opportunity,” you tell him once he’s finished up. “t-tell jeonghan i say hi. and good luck with everything, really.” you hate to rush him off the phone like this, but the way jeonghan is staring at you has your stomach doing flips. there’s no way cheol can be onto you so soon, but you tried your best to keep him off the scent. you just hope it works. “it was nice hearing from you, bye cheol!”

“yeah, sure,” he says suspiciously, looking at his phone to confirm that you did in fact hang up on him. your response was weird, awkward, which is understandable. but the weird part is that you completely ignored his invitation to meet for lunch. you sounded distracted, so maybe you didn’t hear him. maybe you didn’t want to see him at all. or maybe you were out with someone who wouldn’t like their girlfriend making plans with some random guy. whatever it is, cheol is onto you, but what keeps him content is that he knows your paths will cross again soon, planned or not.

jeonghan was quiet after you hung up, mostly playing with the food on his plate as you watched him. you tapped his foot with your own beneath the table, skirting it up toward his calf when he doesn’t respond. you feel a warm hand grab your ankle, and jeonghan’s eyes are staring at you sternly as he asks, “why did you answer it?”

“i was curious.”

“but i told you not to answer it. then i told you to hang up, and you didn’t listen.”

“it’s my phone?” you say incredulously. “i’ll answer it if i want to.”

“but it was seungcheol,” jeonghan says. “he could figure out what’s going on.”

“why are you so insistent on cheol not knowing about us?” you ask. “like, i get not wanting to hurt his feelings. but he’s not here right now, and you’re being kind of a dick.”

“baby, i’m sorry,” he sighs. “i’m just afraid of you getting hurt.”

“me?”

“you and cheol have a lot of history,” jeonghan says carefully. “i guess i was trying to protect you from being around him and, i don’t know, getting upset over what happened. that you’re not with him anymore.”

“how could i ever be upset when i have you taking care of me?” you ask softly, looking for jeonghan’s hand so you can squeeze it assuringly as you say, “baby, yes, cheol and i have history. but you’re my now and my future as long as you don’t break me during sex some day.”

“got it,” he finally laughs, taking a deep breath. “sorry for being weird about it.”

“it’s ok,” you tell him. “you being possessive like that was a little hot.”

“down girl,” he teases, squeezing your hand now. “we’ve got two more courses here before we can leave.”

“have i mentioned how much i love this food, by the way?” you ask, and that sends you both into an easy conversation about food and how you want to do a pasta making date night. jeonghan takes his phone out to make a reminder for himself to find the best class in the city, and he sees a message that makes his heart stop. it’s from seungcheol, short and sweet.

“we need to talk,” it says. jeonghan locks his phone then, putting on a smile to cover up the way he just started to sweat.

you and jeonghan enjoy a sweet weekend together, having two blessed days where you don’t go anywhere. saturday is spent mostly sleeping, only leaving your bed for necessities and to find another book when you finish your first one. as you’re scanning the bookshelves jeonghan put up in his room just for you, he admires the way his old dress shirt hangs off of you. he doesn’t know why you insist on sleeping in his old clothes, but it warms his heart nonetheless. he loves that you don’t wear much underneath, so it’s not hard for him to pull you in for a hug just for his hand to brush you in places that send goosebumps across your skin. he wants you to hurry up and pick a book so you’ll come back to bed, his hands itching to skirt across your waist and pull you into his chest.

he knows you’re both serious about each other. like you, he knows this is love without it being spoken. but he almost said it this morning, it almost slipped off his tongue as he woke up to the sound of clinking coffee mugs. he smiled sleepily at you as you placed his on his nightstand, grabbing your now free hand to kiss your palm and each of your fingertips. you claimed the warmth of the coffee in this heat is what caused your cheeks to flare up, but jeonghan knows better. he watched you proudly as you shuffled to your side of the bed, all of a sudden very happy that you’re here, his, and living in this space with him.

you take a delicate sip of your coffee before you crawl back under the covers, and jeonghan admires the way you relish the taste, eyes closing slightly and a content smile on your lips as you finally rejoin him in bed. you yelp as he pulls you closer, hooking an arm around you so that you’re laying against his chest with his lips at the crown of your head. he thinks about saying it then, those three words, but your polite “let go of me, you freak” shakes him out of his thoughts, chuckling as he loosens his grasp so you can grab your book and then lay back down in his arms. you hold the book so that he can read along with you if he wants, but he’s still tired, so instead he lets himself drift off as you speed through the pages.

when you finish your book, your first instinct is to get up and replace it on the shelf it came from. jeonghan always scolds you for keeping a messy nightstand, so you try to get in the habit of returning finished books as quickly as possible, but when you turn to look at the man in question you coo and decide that admiring your sleeping angel of a boyfriend is the better option. you reach out a hand to trace his eyebrows, down the soft slope of his nose, ending at his mouth. you press a kiss to your fingers and trace the outline of his lips, giggling when his top lip twitches at your touch. you love his lips, love the way they feel against your skin, the way they stretch across jeonghan’s perfect smile when he tells you something cheeky. you lose yourself for a moment as you play with them, maybe flicking your thumb over his plump bottom lip too hard because next thing you know there’s two strong arms holding you captive. jeonghan peeks an eye open at you, sheepish smile on your face as he asks, “what the hell are you doing?”

“playing with your lips,” you reply easily. “they’re my favorite toy.”

“oh these?” he asks, pouting his lips as he feigns going cross eyed to stare at them. he loves to make you laugh, the sound breaking him from his silly expression and into a fit of giggles similar to yours. you press your forehead to his as you calm down, your breaths mingling together as they steady out into the same inhales and exhales. “i really like waking up next to you,” jeonghan admits quietly. you look up to make sure he sees your eyes as you respond, “it’s kinda my favorite thing now, so i’m glad you like it. even when i have morning breath.”

“good thing you drink coffee like an addict,” jeonghan teases, tickling your nose with a strand of your hair. “because right now i’m just getting cafe bustelo and brown sugar.”

“mm,” you hum, “i want another coffee,” you say as you try to get up, but jeonghan’s vice grip stops you.

“kiss first,” he says sternly, and you feel your cheeks warm as you lean back down to press your lips into his. he deepens the kiss briefly, letting you pull away to say, “hm, you taste like brown sugar too.”

“and you taste like cinnamon,” you smile, loving that spending so much time with you has turned jeonghan onto your favorite coffee recipes. “now let me go and i’ll make you a new one.”

“fine,” he sighs dramatically. “but come back quick.”

“you’re clingy today,” you notice, and you look at him fully. “is everything ok?”

“yeah honey,” he smiles, but there’s a hesitation there. “i just..you know i’m yours right?”

“of course i do hannie,” you smile back, and he nods. “anything else?”

“if i’m yours, you know that means you’re mine,” he smirks, and you nod again. “no complaints?”

“hm, you could do laundry a little more often-” you start to joke, but a pillow comes flying for your head. with a laugh you reach out for jeonghan’s leg under the covers, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you ask, “are you sure everything’s good? this is weirding me out.”

“i’m good,” he shrugs. “wanted to be sure.”

you watch him closely, but you decide there’s nothing further to discuss. you reach for his coffee mug and he passes it to you, only jerking it back once or twice when you reach for it. once you start pouting he gives in, handing it over with ease. you’re gone and back within a few minutes, two new drinks in your hands, but jeonghan’s eyes are closed again so you place his drink down before kissing his forehead lightly. you put your drink down and finally return your book, looking for your next victim. when you lay back down you stick to your side of the bed, not wanting to bother jeonghan. you’re obviously unaware that he was watching you the entire time you searched for a new book, but once you’re settled with the amount of pillow to back ratio you hear him mumble something into the blankets. you lean closer and ask him to repeat, and you hear a soft, “will you read to me?”

he’s never asked you to do this before, and you’re not sure how romantic it will be to read a thriller novel to your boyfriend, but you do it anyway. something’s gotten into jeonghan, you’re not sure what, but something’s on his mind. you’ll let him come to you about it, but even as you read the book out loud you barely process the words. you’re just worried about the change in jeonghan over the past few days, and you think you know what, or who, the culprit is.

jeonghan had to welcome cheol into the office next week. he’s starting this week transitioning back to life at home, then he’s coming in closer to the weekend to finish up his paperwork. he starts next monday, and jeonghan has promised him dinner one night this week. he does this with any of his new employees, no matter their status. he takes them out for a meal, gets to know them, makes them feel welcome as part of the company, and everyone loves him for it. it’s why so many people fight to get the chance to work for him, and it’s also the reason why nobody wants to leave once they do. jeonghan takes care of his people. he defends them, wants the best for them, and can mediate any problem no matter how big or small. he’s the perfect boss, the perfect boyfriend, he’s just...perfect.

but lately, he’s been having doubts. he’s been doubting himself, his relationship with you. he won’t admit it, but he’s afraid of you seeing cheol after all this time and wanting to go back to him. he never understood how you two could split so easily, so his biggest fear is that whatever feelings may be laying dormant will come back with a vengeance the moment you and seungcheol are back in a room together. that’s why he tries to talk about him as little as possible despite being on the phone with him all the time. seungcheol is a hard worker, so he’s already got questions for jeonghan, clients to bring over, applicants to interview for his assistant. jeonghan admires the tenacity, but he’s walking on eggshells around you so the topic of cheol never comes up. that becomes nearly impossible when seungcheol reminds jeonghan of their promised meal together, and jeonghan tries to pick a night when he knows you’ll be tired and therefore fine with him going out.

he decides on tuesday night for dinner with cheol, and everything seems fine at first. you’ve got to go into the office early for a slew of back to back meetings, so you assure jeonghan you’ll be exhausted when you’re done. whatever “company thing” he has to do tonight can be done solo, and you tell him you’ll be expecting a kiss when he gets home, even if you’re asleep. he takes a slight breath of relief and promises he’ll be sweet to you when he gets back, pleased that it seems the topic he’s avoiding won’t have to come up at all.

tuesday comes, and you were fine with going home to no jeonghan, but as your day dragged on you realized there was no way you’ll be leaving on time. thing after thing keeps getting dumped on you until you’re on the verge of a freak out, and you text jeonghan to get some clarity. you tell him your day’s been awful, you’ll be home late, the usual, and he doesn’t respond. you’re so busy you don’t even have time to be upset about that, because as soon as you put your phone down you’re getting an email that almost makes you cry frustrated tears. you work on though, the only thing getting you through is the idea of falling into jeonghan’s arms as soon as you walk through the door.

jeonghan didn’t respond to you because seungcheol ended up coming into the office today, eager to set up his office and get straight to work next week. it was a surprise for sure, seeing his friend after so long, but thankfully they fell back into their usual rapport once the awkward pleasantries were over with. jeonghan had been busy helping seungcheol organize his desk, explaining some of the more important files that seungkwan had already placed in cheol’s office for him to review. jeonghan was trying to save some of the business talk for their dinner tonight, but they ended up having a working lunch instead, jeonghan divulging all of the things he’s needed his best friend for in their time apart.

“shit, is that the time?” cheol asks as he checks his watch. jeonghan looks at his phone then, seeing messages from you and wishing he could answer immediately. he’ll wait until he’s back in his office just to be safe. “i took up your whole day, i’m sorry.”

“no worries,” jeonghan waves him off. “it was nice catching up. it’s gonna be good having you here.”

“i’m really excited to get started,” cheol says.

“no shit, couldn’t tell,” jeonghan laughs. “but we’ve basically gone through everything i was planning to say at dinner. welcome to the team, this is the company culture, stay on top of your tasks, blah blah. come to me if you ever need anything, and uh, don’t drink the hazelnut coffee in the break room. it’s disgusting.”

“got it,” cheol nods. “i can’t believe i kept you here this long, if you need to leave, we can forget dinner.”

“no, i have time,” jeonghan thinks for a moment. “i should at least take you to this whiskey bar down the block, i think you’d like it. i do a lot of client meetings there.”

“sure, let’s go!”

the bar ended up being closed. who knew tuesday was a slow day for whiskey, because apparently it’s always closed on tuesdays and jeonghan had no clue. he feels bad that he’s not giving cheol the promised welcome meal or a nice drink on the company’s dime, so when seungcheol asks to see jeonghan’s place he has a hard time saying no.

“i’m sure you’ve got a great home bar,” cheol says, “and i’d love to see your place. if that’s ok, of course.”

“um, let me just-”

“check with your girlfriend first?” cheol asks, and jeonghan stops cold. he tries to play it off, shaking his head with an excuse on his lips, but when jeonghan looks up at him there’s a knowing look in his eyes. “you don’t have to hide it. i knew there was always a reason you sound distracted on the phone. just didn’t know sly yoon jeonghan could be held down by anybody.”

“haha, yeah, it’s a miracle,” jeonghan laughs nervously. “but, um, no, i don’t need to check with anybody. i was just. yeah, sure, yeah, we can have a drink at my place. but i need to make it quick, sorry,” he starts to lie, “my meeting with london tomorrow just got pushed to the ass crack of dawn, so it’ll be an early night for me.”

“just one drink,” cheol nods, clapping his hand on jeonghan’s back. “send me your address. you want me to bring flowers as a housewarming gift, or is that too much?”

when you’re finally leaving work, it’s about three hours later than normal. you took a break to eat dinner, so that added to your time, knowing that jeonghan would have a hissy fit if he knew you worked late and didn’t eat. your meal added on to your time, but it definitely didn’t diminish the amount of work you had to do. by the time you get back to your apartment, you’re tired, you’re frustrated, and those tears from earlier are creeping back again. you text jeonghan when you’re close by, and again when you get into the lobby and ask if he picked up the package that came. nothing all day, and now suddenly he can’t seem to respond quick enough.

“wait for me outside,” the text reads, which you think is odd, but whatever. you check the mailroom anyway, shuffling along on autopilot as jeonghan loses his mind upstairs.

why? because cheol is still here. jeonghan forgot how easy it was for drunk cheol to go off on tangents, and he’s in the middle of one now that doesn’t seem like it’ll slow down in time for jeonghan to shoo him out the door without running into you. he’s trying to run through each solution when he hears your key in the lock, stopping cheol mid-sentence so he can smirk and say, “guess the lady of the house is home?”

jeonghan shoots up to intercept you, trying to stop the door from pushing open too much to reveal you to cheol or vice versa. but he’s too late. he can tell by the shock in your eyes, followed quickly by tears. you duck back out into the hallway and he follows, closing the door behind him and praying to god that cheol stays put.

“baby, baby what’s wrong?” jeonghan asks, holding your hands to his chest as you try to calm down. your lip trembles as you explain, “i just had the worst day at work, i’m so tired of this job, i’m exhausted and frustrated and i wanted to come home to you and i was already about to cry but then he’s in there-wait, why is he in our house, hannie?” you ask, a bit of understandable anger in your voice. “i thought he couldn’t know about us,” you all but spit out, and jeonghan lets his head hang as he explains.

“i thought i’d be able to get him in and out before you got back,” he starts out. “i’m sorry i didn’t respond to you all day, but everything got away from me, and the place i was going to take cheol was closed, and he asked to see the apartment and i couldn’t really say no.”

“well get him out of there,” you hiss. “i can’t handle this right now.”

“handle what?” jeonghan asks, and you groan at the jealousy in his voice.

“hannie!” you whine. “you know what i mean. i was trying not to cry all the way home and now there’s a man in our house and i have to cry in the hallway. my day can’t get any worse.”

“i’m sorry,” jeonghan says. “i’m sorry. i’ll get him out. but...”

“what?” you groan, and jeonghan looks at you shamefaced.

“baby, if you don’t want to see him you’ll have to hide in the lobby or something. otherwise i bring you back inside and you have to address him there, or you stay out here and see him then.”

“i can’t just hide behind you?” you ask quietly, and he shakes his head. “‘fraid not, my love.”

“you’re in the shit, yoon jeonghan,” you say with an accusing finger under his chin. “you owe me.”

“you know i’ll make it up to you,” he whispers, dipping down to give you a chaste kiss. he leads you back to your door, pushing it open and clearing his throat when he sees cheol sitting with his head almost between his knees on the couch. “seungcheol, i can explain.”

“i don’t want to hear a word,” he says, standing up to get in jeonghan’s face. “some friend you are. how could you not tell me?”

“i’m sorry, i-”

“leave him alone,” you pipe up, and cheol’s anger turns to you briefly. once he looks at you, really looks at you, it all fades away and a soft ache replaces it. “seungcheol i think you should leave.”

“but-”

“you’re a guest in our home, and you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you hold your ground, but still don’t make eye contact with him. it’s comical, actually. you really are hiding behind jeonghan as you watch cheol leave.

“i can’t believe this,” he scoffs, gathering his things and pressing past you both. he looks back at you passingly as you close the door in his face, and your heart stirs in a way you don’t understand. the way cheol was looking at you burns into the backs of your eyelids, and you shake your head to get rid of it. jeonghan’s soft lips on your neck pull you back to reality, and he falls into another round of apologies. you turn around in his grasp, resting your head against his neck before you say, “jeonghan, it’s alright. let’s just go to bed.”

it’s safe to say that seungcheol is pissed. what’s infuriating about it though, at work he acts like nothing’s wrong. in meetings, through emails, on conference calls, cheol is the perfect associate. in the hallways though? the elevator? the break room? jeonghan feels ice shooting daggers through cheol’s gaze whenever their paths cross. he needs a chance to explain, but cheol won’t give it to him. he’s hurt that his friend would do this to him and keep it a secret, but what hurts just as much is that you’d date his best friend, hell, you’ve moved in with him, and cheol had no clue. from either of you. it’s hard to process that two people who were once so important to him could betray him like this, and with each other. he’s content to keep his relationship with jeonghan completely professional, hopeful that if he plays his cards right he’ll never have to be around you for extended periods of time.

the first test of that comes this friday with a company celebration for the acquisition of so many new accounts, cheol’s included. he has to go, and he knows you’ll be there a majority of the night. he’s ready to dodge and weave, staying on alert for where you are at all times. but the moment he lets his guard down, you’re at his side, ordering a drink at the bar. you didn’t notice it was cheol or else you never would’ve approached, but jeonghan has been talking to some creepy accountant for so long you needed an out. cheol glances to the side and sees two glasses in your hands, sadly meeting your eyes as he acknowledges that one of them must be for jeonghan. you open your mouth to say something, but he’s disappeared into the crowd before you can even say hello.

you get back to jeonghan to find him typing on his phone, and a quick peek tells you that he’s asking seungkwan to remove said creepy accountant from the premises. you smile as you hand him his drink, putting your hand under his chin so you can steady yourself to kiss his cheek. he lets you once, but then he turns so he can steal a kiss before you realize what’s happening. it makes you laugh, and the sound rings out across the corner of the room.

“shh, baby,” jeonghan laughs. “can’t let everyone here know you’re having a better time than they are.”

“it’s a nice party though,” you tell him. “they should all be enjoying it.”

“i hope so,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to hold back the strands that have fallen out of place, only for them to drape back over his face softly.

“you look sexy, by the way.”

“do i?” he smiles, and you nod, kissing his cheek again. he uses this as a chance to whisper in your ear, “and you’re stunning as always. i can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

“hannie stop,” you giggle, letting your face heat up as you pull away from him again. he drapes an arm around you now, pulling you into his side as he turns to face the rest of the room. with his lips closely pressed to your hairline he whispers something else that makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“i’m not the only one who can’t stop staring,” jeonghan says, turning you until you’re facing seungcheol from across the room. he’s right, cheol’s eyes are locked in on you and jeonghan. weird, considering he couldn’t get away from you fast enough earlier. even now his gaze holds strong, and you feel your blush deepen, this time from embarrassment and something more. “he’s been watching you all night.”

“stop,” you repeat, and jeonghan chuckles so lowly that you feel the sound rumble in your own chest pressed next to his. “he’s angry.”

“you think so?” jeonghan asks, his own gaze following yours to stare at cheol. “think we should talk to him?”

“actually, i do,” you say, breaking the stare down to look up at jeonghan. “or at least i should. you’re a good man, hannie, but i’m afraid you’d both get so cocky you wouldn’t be able to get through to him.”

“you think that’s a good idea?” he asks with a touch of warning in his voice. “he’s been hard to get through to all week-”

“and maybe if i talk to him, i can fix that,” you reply. then, quieter, almost like you don’t want to admit it to yourself, you ask, “come on, don’t you miss him?”

either you’re right and jeonghan does miss his best friend, or he’s scared to acknowledge that you might miss him too. regardless he nods and loosens his grip so you can step away. cheol watched that whole exchange, so he sees you coming. when you get close he tries to hide, but you don’t care, you call out his name loud enough for the partygoers around you to part like the sea just to get you through to him faster.

“cheol, hi,” you say with a shy smile once you’re close enough to speak at a normal volume. “um, i didn’t get to say anything earlier at the bar, so i’m sorry i yelled just now.”

“no worries,” he says curtly.

“i just..wanted to get your attention,” you continue, watching him unsure. “i want to talk, if that’s ok.”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” he replies, and he’s about to turn away but you place a delicate hand on his arm, squeezing lightly as you say, “no, really. we need to talk.”

you can feel jeonghan’s eyes on you as you lead cheol out to the balcony, major deja vu to the first night you and jeonghan became something. crazy how things come full circle, you think. you catch jeonghan’s eyes from across the room and nod at him, but his face is unmoving, watching you apprehensively with something close to worry in his eyes.

out on the balcony, cheol tries to keep as much space between you as possible. you tried joining him at the railing but he slid away childishly, and then when you took another step in his direction he moved to the chairs like he was going to sit down. you can tell there’s nervous energy behind his dark brown eyes, so you let him scramble for a minute before calling his name.

“cheollie,” you whisper so softly that the wind almost takes it away. the sound of his nickname falling from your lips stops him cold, his sad eyes looking up at you as you begin to explain. “none of this is what it looks like.”

“you sure about that?” he scoffs, finally sitting down at one of the chairs in front of you. you remain standing, leaning against the railing, and you can see the flash of jeonghan’s suit through the windows. was he listening?

“jeonghan and i started dating a few months ago, after he moved back home. we hadn’t even talked since you and i...broke up..but we were at the same party, and we started hanging out-”

“i don’t need to hear that,” cheol says dismissively. “i need to hear you and jeonghan apologize for not telling me. my two best friends. the two people i used to be closer to than anybody else, leaving me for each other?”

“that’s not what happened though,” you whine.

“y/n please,” he rolls his eyes.

“no, seungcheol, you’re not listening to me,” you say sternly, crossing your arms over your chest for good measure. it’s just a bonus that it makes your dress shift ever so slightly, showing the lacy edge of your bra underneath. cheol’s eyes are shamelessly on your chest as you go on. “jeonghan and i never did anything to betray you, other than choosing what was better for our lives, our careers, in the long run. if i remember correctly, you had a couple choices to make too, and i think you chose exactly the same thing. so whatever butt hurt feelings you have? get over it. we’re all here now. you and hannie need to work together, so put your big boy pants on and work. that also requires you to at least say hi to me when i see you at these events.” you take a breath before you go on. “i know it may not be easy..but it’s what we all have to do. got it?”

“yes ma’am,” cheol nods, standing and crossing over to you. he moves so that he’s barely caging you in, making sure you can’t leave as he says, “but just know. i’ll be mature about this. i’ll be the best god damn employee here, and i’ll treat you like a queen if that’s what it takes to make you stop pouting. but you and i both know we belong together.” he pauses so he can try to read your face, continuing with his dark eyes staring you down. “so know that every day i come into work. every fancy party i’m at. all i’m going to be thinking about is you.”

“cheol, i-” your voice is cut off by the sound of the balcony door opening, and your heart stops until you see vernon, seungcheol’s assistant, poking his head outside.

“hey, you’re missing the toast,” he tells cheol, who hasn’t turned around at all. he nods and says he’ll be there soon, vernon stepping back into the party unnoticed. cheol holds your gaze a moment longer before finally turning away.

“it was nice talking to you, y/n,” he says once he reaches the door. he sends you a wink before slipping through the door. “hopefully i’ll see you again very soon.”

you can’t stop thinking about what cheol said out on the balcony. you rejoin the party a few moments after him, sticking to the back as you listen to jeonghan lead the toasts to all their new employees, a brighter future, his usual charming boss speeches that everyone just eats up. you’re pressing your fingers to your lips, thoughts flooding through your head, when you hear your name called out and suddenly feel a roomful of eyes on you.

“and personally i just want to thank my rock, y/n, for being my voice of reason,” jeonghan says. “you’d be surprised how many of the important decisions i make here are actually because of her, so i’d like to raise a toast to her and all the other unspoken heroes of our company-” as he continues on, everyone’s focus shifts, but you feel one set of eyes still on you. you turn and find cheol, staring at you knowingly with a champagne flute in his hand. he tilts it toward you with a wink before swigging it down in one gulp, and you turn away when you catch yourself admiring his jawline. when curiosity gets the best of you and you look back, he’s gone.

once the event is over, you go back to jeonghan’s office to wait for him to politely talk to people until they get the hint that they need to leave. jeonghan says this is the reason he has a couch in his office, so you have somewhere comfortable to wait for him after parties, but really he got it because he doesn’t always want to fuck on his desk. you wonder if tonight will be one of those nights, but you think that question is answered when jeonghan walks through the door and collapses on top of you in exhaustion. you wrap your arms around him, a hand instantly falling to the back of his head so you can play with his hair. he hums into your neck, placing a single kiss on your skin before his breathing evens out. you lay like this for a while, content to stay like this all night, but you know you need to tell him about cheol.

“hannie,” you whisper, and his lack of a response makes you think he’s actually asleep. you push him up by the forehead, giggling when he looks at you confused and mumbles, “what.”

“hey cutie,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “get up, you’re crushing me.”

“deal with it.”

“jeonghan, seriously,” you say, and he finally lifts himself up, staring at you expectantly. “i need to tell you about cheol.”

“tell me tomorrow,” he says before falling back onto your chest. “don’t feel like getting pissed off right now.”

“you’re both annoying,” you grumble, and that gets his attention.

“he was annoying?” he asks, his cheek still pressed against your chest. you can feel his warm skin on yours, and his cheek is pushed up so that his face is smushed. it’s cute, but you can’t get distracted. “tell me more.”

“he’s mad,” you start, “so i was right-”

“you’re always right-”

“don’t be a kiss ass,” you say sternly, and jeonghan chuckles. “what?”

“now i’m just thinking about your ass,” he says with a cheeky smile, peeking an eye open at you.

“jeonghan!” you whine. “can you please take this seriously! i tried talking to cheol about us, about all of us being mature about this, and he was really...he made it seem like..”

“like what?” jeonghan asks, sitting up suddenly. “he made it seem like what, y/n?”

“like he wasn’t over me,” you whisper, and jeonghan sees red for a moment. “he didn’t try anything. he didn’t want to be anywhere near me, n-not that i tried getting close to him! but like, i tried talking to him at the railing and he ran away, and then i could tell he was staring at my chest and he was like, super vague but still upset, and he said something about us being meant for each other and i just-”

“do you agree with him?” jeonghan asks, and you stop. “do you think you’re meant for each other?”

“hannie, i...he’s upset,” you reply, not giving him the response he wants. “he didn’t want to hear me explain anything, but he’s obviously hurt. he said he was going to change his attitude at work, but i don’t think this helped as much as i thought it would.”

“he’s the most stubborn man in the world, y/n.”

“oh so that explains why you two used to get along,” you tease, running a hand through jeonghan’s hair. your hand settles at the back of his head as you say, “i’m happy with you, hannie. you make me feel like the special-est girl ever. don’t look at me like you’re worried.”

“i’m not worried about you,” he says, turning so he can press soft kisses onto your wrist. “i’m worried about him.”

“whatever,” you shrug. “cheol is gonna be cheol. this will get easier with time.”

“hm,” he hums, lips still against your wrist. “speaking of time, how late is it?”

“late,” you reply. “we should go.”

“late?” he laughs. “that’s not a time baby.”

“i don’t have a watch,” you shrug. “and someone is laying on me, so i can’t reach my phone.”

“should i buy you a watch?” jeonghan asks, that glint in his eyes whenever he’s ready to spoil you. “maybe we should get matching ones.”

“minnie and mickey mouse?” you suggest, and he laughs.

“we’ll go shopping this weekend,” he promises before he hoists himself up, pulling you with him. “let’s go home now baby.”

it’s been a few days since the party, and you haven’t stopped thinking about cheol. it’s really bothering you, but you don’t want to bring it up to jeonghan again because you know it’ll just upset him. you’re thinking about what you should do as you make dinner tonight. you were able to come home early, excited to surprise jeonghan after such a stressful couple of days. he hasn’t said much about cheol, only that he’s been keeping to himself while still getting his work done. you figure this is how it should be, cheol doing his job and leaving the two of you alone, but there’s just a sliver of your heart that wants more. you’re thinking about it as jeonghan walks through the door, calling out your name before following the smell of food into the kitchen.

“is it my birthday or something?” he asks with a happy smile on his face.

“hm, no?” you think for a second. “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“you’re an angel,” he says as he walks over to join you, his arms wrapping around your waist and head falling to the crook of your neck. “you have perfect timing too, my day sucked.”

“aw hannie,” you try to turn around in his arms, wanting to watch him as he explains what went wrong, but he holds your waist firmly so you won’t move.

“keep cooking,” he whispers into your neck, kissing at the spot behind your ear that sends a chill down your spine. “let me blow off some steam before dinner. just tell me when it’s too much, got it baby?” you nod, but you hear jeonghan grumble, “use your words y/n.”

“got it,” you whisper out, and you feel jeonghan smile against your skin. he keeps kissing up and down your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can kiss right where your neck and shoulder meet. you feel his tongue against your skin and then the sharp pang of teeth, jeonghan working on marking your neck. you let him work, trying to focus on not burning the food, but he’s making it incredibly difficult.

“turn the heat down baby,” he advises you, noticing your lack of attention. “don’t want you to ruin dinner because you were distracted.” you do, your breath shaky when jeonghan’s hand slips from your waist to cup your pussy through your shorts. your breathes start coming in little gasps as he gives you the least amount of pressure possible. you groan frustrated, and he chuckles against your neck. “impatient baby.”

“i’m almost done cooking, hannie,” you tell him. “hurry up.”

“turn the stove off then,” jeonghan rasps out. “we’re staying right here.” his hand slips to the edge of your shorts, his fingers pushing the fabric of your shorts and panties aside to feel the arousal pooling at your core. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“n-no.”

“no what?”

“no sir.”

“good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your ear as his fingers dip to your core. he loves feeling you falling apart on his fingers, you’d think you’d be used to this by now. but feeling him sink two fingers into your core has you shaking in his hold, grabbing onto his arm for leverage. you try grinding down into him, wanting more, but jeonghan is ever patient and ignores your attempts to feel more. he takes it slow, dragging his fingers in and out at an excruciating pace. it’s not enough, so your mind starts to wander to other times jeonghan has had his way with you in the kitchen, folding you over the counter, kneeling between your legs as you cook, and you jolt as your mind starts conjuring up images of cheol doing the same. your eyes fly open, jeonghan so tuned into your reactions that he chuckles as he whispers, “feel good baby?” and your heart starts to race. he doesn’t know. he can’t read your thoughts, so he doesn’t know what you were just imagining. but you feel...wrong. you feel like you’re doing something forbidden, not allowed, as you let jeonghan work you toward your high with thoughts of cheol still flashing through your mind.

“i’m c-close hannie,” you breathe out, trying to anchor yourself in this moment. you feel him biting your neck again, leaving another hickey you’re not sure you’ll be able to cover up.

“let me hear you then,” he says, fingers finally working faster, trying to make you come. you moan freely, feeling jeonghan’s hard cock pressing into you from behind. your eyes start to roll back as you come, letting out a soft moan, “oh, cheol-”

jeonghan stops.

all the air leaves your lungs, and you gasp as you try to cover, but jeonghan shushes you, arms tightening around your body as his lips graze your ear. “what did you just say?”

“n-nothing-”

“don’t lie to me,” he whispers. “what. did. you. say.”

“i-i said ch-cheol,” you stutter, jeonghan’s fingers still inside you, feeling the way your walls clench around him as you mention he who must not be named. “hannie, please, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to, i-”

“should i call him?” jeonghan asks, and you hate the way your body reacts to the idea. “let him hear you moaning so pretty for him while i’m playing with your pussy? or should we skip that and just invite him over here to fuck you?” he asks, hands pulling from you so he can turn you around and cage you in against the counter. he gets closer, eyes angry and a little turned on as he asks, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“hannie, no, i want you, need you,” you say, afraid to touch him as his hands work at his belt. he’s got his cock out in record time, lazily stroking it as he watches you.

“you want me, you need me, but you want him too, don’t you?” he asks, and you could cry at how frustrated you are right now. you let jeonghan lift you onto the counter, spreading your legs as he pulls your clothes to the side. he taps his cock over your clit, reveling in the way you whine for him. “come on baby, talk to me. told you to use your words.”

“i-i don’t want cheol,” you say shakily. “i want you, jeonghan.” that’s all he needed to hear, slamming his cock into you as you let out a choked sob. he’s relentless, fucking you so fast you’re not sure how you’re going to hold out. instantly his thumb is rubbing over your clit, wanting to make you come as fast as possible. considering how close you were, he doesn’t wait long, a scream of his name ripping through your chest as you release around him, but he doesn’t stop. proudly, he smiles as he fucks into you, watching your pussy swallow his cock as he says, “what do you think cheol would do if he was here right now?”

“jeonghan-”

“answer me,” he says, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. you can see the way his pupils are blown out, lust taking over him, and you realize with a gasp that he’s enjoying this. he’s mad, sure, but this is turning him on. the thought has you clenching around him hard, and he smiles evilly before he goes on. “you think he’d want your mouth? or would he want your pussy?”

“b-both,” you stutter out, jerking in jeonghan’s hold as you get closer again. “he’d want both.”

“hm, greedy. just like you,” jeonghan tuts, bringing his thumb up to your lips before asking you to suck, you hold onto his wrist, steadying yourself as you suck on his thumb while he fucks you, and you can’t believe you’re about to come again. “hold on honey. wait for me.”

“jeonghan i can’t-”

“you will,” he says sternly, switching his pace so he’s thrusting into you so deep you feel like he’s going to split you open. your pussy keeps clenching down on him, making it hard to move, and when he looks up and sees you with his thumb still hanging from your mouth he groans, holding your chin as he watches you slowly unravel. he admires the way your eyes flutter first, then your jaw goes slack, whimpering as he thrusts into you to help you come. your body starts to shake and he can feel you spasming around his cock, his hips jerking as he starts coming deep inside you. he thrusts lazily until you’re both spent, your sensitive body jerking at every movement. he finally pulls out, moaning as he watches his come spill out of you. he looks up at you with an evil smirk, asking, “should i send a picture to seungcheol?”

“jeonghan, i’m sorry,” you sigh again, head falling to his shoulder. “that didn’t mean anything, it just came out.”

“but why did it come out?” he laughs nervously, stroking your hair as you latch onto him. with your arms firmly around his shoulders, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you into the living room. then he sits down with you in his lap, looking up at you softly as he asks. “what were you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?”

“i was thinking about you,” you start honestly. “and how you love fucking in our kitchen, for some reason-”

“i just love fucking you,” he admits as he plays with the strands of your hair falling over your shoulder. “so you were thinking about me and that made you moan cheol’s name?”

“no, i um,” you clear your throat. “i don’t know. he’s just. it’s been on my mind a lot lately, i guess. so my mind wandered. it just came out,” you say earnestly, cupping jeonghan’s face, “i’m so sorry.”

“don’t be,” he shrugs, a sad little smile on his face. your thumbs rub over his cheeks as he stares at you, and he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“what?” you ask, knowing there’s something else on his mind. “say something baby.”

“you’re not over him,” he says sadly, and you feel tears in your eyes as you shake your head. “you’re not, and that’s ok.”

“but hannie, i love you i don’t know why i can’t-”

“you love me?” jeonghan asks, and you stiffen. you’ve never said that to him before, and this is how your stupid brain lets it come out?

“i do,” you whisper, “i love you so much, yoon jeonghan.”

“but you love cheol too,” he says quietly, and you nod.

“i think i still love him,” you admit. “but i don’t understand why, because i know i love you.”

“well,” jeonghan sighs, hands snaking around your waist again. “for what it’s worth, i know i love you too.”

“really?” you sniff, and he presses a soft kiss to your nose.

“i’ve known it for a while, actually,” he tells you.

“you love me,” you smile.

“and you love me,” he nods.

“i’m sorry,” you pout again, and he shakes his head.

“don’t be. you love me right?”

“i do,” you nod, kissing his chin as you wrap your arms around him.

“then that’s all that matters,” jeonghan says quietly, and you sit together like that, wrapped in each others arms, minds racing.

this isn’t how you wanted to tell him. you wanted the moment to be right, your confession of love needing to be special because jeonghan is special. he means so much to you. you haven’t felt this kind of love since..well, since cheol. jeonghan treats you like royalty and you want to treat him the same, so you’re torn at the thought of not being able to love him fully. but as you’re struggling to accept this, jeonghan has one thing running through his brain.

he needs to talk to seungcheol. now.

the next few days with jeonghan are insanely soft. you’re not sure if it’s because both of you let your feelings be known, or if it’s both of you trying to cover up the other feelings that were revealed a couple nights ago. either way, you’ve been in heaven. the rest of the work week flew by, both of you taking turns making each other’s favorite meals and then cuddling on the couch, not wanting to be far from each other for more than a few minutes. it’s like the early days of your relationship all over again, and you love it.

jeonghan was serious when he said he was going to buy you a watch though, so he takes you shopping first thing saturday morning. you whine at him not wanting to sleep in, but he makes a good point that the mall is unbearably crowded after lunchtime. so you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed, making coffee while jeonghan picks out a couple outfit he insisted you wear. you smile when you see what he’s chosen, two red flannels and your favorite pair of jeans. you try to keep him at bay as you dress, but he grumbles at you as he pulls his own clothes on.

“so mean to me, the man you love,” he says in disbelief, watching as you pull on a white tank top to wear under the flannel. “nice tits.”

“focus.”

“sorry,” he smiles. “do you wanna eat before we leave or get something on the way there?”

you spend some time following jeonghan around this very fancy department store, helping him pick out new work clothes. he begged you to stay with him, not wanting to lose you to the purses he saw you gravitate towards when you walked in. he grabbed your hand and held on tightly, only letting go every so often to hold up a new shirt or jacket to ask for your opinion. jeonghan usually gets everything tailored, so trying things on isn’t that much of a concern for him here but he happily lets you slide your hands down his arms, slipping off the flannel so you can see what the blazers look like on him. he loves watching you step back in thought before (usually) deciding he looks great and he needs the suit immediately. really, having you here is no help to his wallet, but it boosts his confidence like hell.

he’s about to ask you about a pair of pants when he turns and sees a flash of red moving through the racks behind you two, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. for now, he decides he’s looked at enough clothes and grabs your hand again to go find the jewelry counter. he called yesterday to place an order, and you’re mostly here to see if the watch fits. when you get to the counter you start looking in the glass to see what you might like, but jeonghan’s voice brings you to the end of the counter. he’s thanking the worker as they pass over a velvet box that jeonghan handles with care, looking up and beckoning you to come closer.

“do you like it baby?” he asks, showing you the silver watch with pearl inlays on the timepiece. you gasp and jeonghan laughs with the worker as she says, “i think she likes it!” you reach your hand out and let jeonghan secure it around your wrist, nodding proudly at the perfect fit. he looks back to the attendant and says, “i’ll go ahead and take the other one i called about.”

“sure thing,” she says before heading to the storage room behind her. she comes back with a similar box and jeonghan holds it under his arm as he closes the box your watch came in, knowing you won’t want to take it off now. they’re already paid for, so he offers his free hand to you and you carefully move your newly adorned arm to link through his. as you start walking through the store you think you see a familiar face up ahead, but it’s quickly obstructed by jeonghan’s fast pace.

“wait, did you get something?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the store. let me see yours.”

“i was serious about us matching,” he replies, handing you your box so he can open his. he shows you an almost identical piece, the only difference being a single pearl that connects the two clock hands.

“i love you,” you whisper to him, like it’s a secret the world shouldn’t know about just yet. you cup his face and kiss him, whispering against his lips, “thank you. you’re too wonderful.”

“y/n?” a deep voice calls from behind your boyfriend. you separate from jeonghan and see cheol standing a few feet away, a look of not-so-hidden disgust on his face. “what are you doing here man?”

“same as you,” jeonghan says comfortably, draping his arm across your shoulders. “you mentioned getting some new suits and i realized it’s been a while since i got any new work clothes, so we started here and now we’re probably on our way to that fancy cooking store y/n loves so much.

“nice,” cheol nods, looking at you both awkwardly. you notice then that your heart is beating quickly in your chest, and you hope jeonghan can’t feel it.

“hey, we’re all matching,” jeonghan points out, gesturing between the three of you and your shirts in various shades of red. “that’s cute.”

“right,” cheol nods awkwardly, regarding you both with a strange look in his eyes. you know that look, he looks like he’s trying to hide a secret. “well, um, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“bye cheol,” you say meekly, jeonghan waving as he turns you both toward the exit. you slap his side once you’re far enough away, and cheol rolls his eyes when he hears jeonghan’s unmistakable laugh.

that was weird, he thinks to himself. yesterday jeonghan was out of character, talking to cheol for far too long in the break room, wanting to know about his weekend and what his plans were. when cheol told him he was going shopping, jeonghan didn’t mention anything about needing to go himself. he just asked where cheol planned on going, and then he’s here the same time as him the next day. that’s not a coincidence, is it?

after you spend too much time and too much money at the next store, you leave with bags in your hand that you immediately push onto jeonghan when you find him waiting for you outside.

“jesus woman,” he laughs, “did you buy us a new kitchen?”

“no, just some things we needed,” you say innocently, and jeonghan sighs as he tries to balance the bags in his arms while still typing on his phone.

“what are you doing?” you ask, reaching out to help him but he swats you away.

“i’m texting cheol,” jeonghan says nonchalantly, and your heart drops to your ass.

“oh.”

“i invited him to lunch,” jeonghan says, looking back up at you again. “that ok?”

“um, i don’t know,” you reply. “should we? i mean, are we good?”

“i’m good,” jeonghan nods. “i think it would be nice. maybe we can try going back to normal.”

“o-ok,” you say, unsure of your boyfriend’s intentions. “so, where are we going?”

“we’ll meet him there,” jeonghan says, holding his arm out for you to grab onto. “come on, let’s go to the car.”

when you got to the car you didn’t expect jeonghan to put the bags away and immediately pull you across the center console to sit in his lap. he’s holding you down by the waist, capturing your lips in a kiss that he deepens just to moan into your mouth. you don’t hate it, but you also don’t know what’s gotten into him. you push away from him slightly, his lips chasing yours, but you put your fingers to his lips to hold him off.

“baby. talk to me. what is going on with you,” you state more than ask.

“i wanna do something,” he says mischievously.

“that’s obvious,” you say as you roll your eyes, and jeonghan nipping at your chin makes you swat him away and sit up fully. “what do you want to do. drive me insane?”

“yep,” he nods. “open the glovebox.”

“jeonghan-”

“what did i say?” he asks, and you stop talking, reaching awkwardly over to the glovebox to find the bullet vibrator and handcuffs still there from a few weeks ago. you hold them up, and jeonghan says, “put the cuffs away. too noticeable.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, confused. “jeonghan, what are you up to?”

“do you trust me?” he asks, and you nod. “words, honey.”

“of course i trust you,” you tell him, placing your hand on his cheek. he hums as he nuzzles into your touch, kissing your palm. he opens his own hand, and you pass him the toy. he turns it on to the lowest setting, pushing your flannel out of the way so he can trace it over your chest. you jolt in his lap when he traces over your nipples, smiling when he sees the buds poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. “hannie, we have to go to lunch-”

“to see seungcheol,” he says, eyes watching your chest erupt in goosebumps as he continues dragging the vibrator slowly over your skin.

“yes, and it’d be rude if we invited him and then we were late,” you scold, “so whatever you want to do get to it. or, better yet, wait until after.”

“why would that be better?” jeonghan asks, looking up at you darkly. “you wanna see cheol so you have more to think about when i make you come later?”

“that’s not what i me-eant,” you struggle to say, moaning a little at the end when jeonghan presses the vibrator over your clothed cunt. he pushes it up a few levels and you let out a shaky breath as you try to keep yourself from grinding down.

“give me a color baby.”

“green.”

“good,” he smiles, unbuttoning your pants as he keeps talking. “here’s what i want you to do. i want you to take this and keep it in your pussy while we have lunch. can you do that for me?”

“hannie, i...” you trail off, eyes holding his gaze as you realize he’s looking at you the same way he did a few nights ago. that dark lust is still there. that signal that he might be into this more than he’s letting on. there’s a plan brewing in that pretty head of his, and you let out a shaky breath as you think.

“baby, i need a color,” he repeats. you hold his gaze a little longer before whispering, “green.”

jeonghan is a piece of shit. you hate his guts right now, watching you so happily as you listen to cheol describe his life in europe. you’re struggling, trying so hard to not make it obvious that you literally have a vibrator inside you right now. jeonghan is staring at you with stars in his eyes, and cheol is trying to ignore it, but he can’t stop himself.

“listen, man, did you invite me out to make me jealous or something? i’m sure y/n told you what we talked about at the party,” he says, glancing at you and considering your expression for a second. you look...off. he can’t place why, so he turns back to jeonghan. “i’m not gonna do anything, but come on. be mature about it.”

“i had no ill intentions inviting you out today,” jeonghan says. “we really wanted to catch up, didn’t we y/n?” and all you do is nod. “she’s been wanting us to get back to normal, so i thought this would be a good start.”

“this was your idea?” cheol asks you, and you open your mouth to speak, shifting uncomfortably but soon realizing that was an awful idea. the vibrator has slid up so it’s pressed right against your clit, and your eyes flutter slightly as you try to speak.

“i mean, i wanted you to-” you take a breath, “to get along since you work together. but lunch was his idea,” you explain, pointing a shaky finger at your smug boyfriend. “but i want to hear more about europe. did you go to italy at all?”

“oh my god, you’d go crazy over there,” cheol smiles at you softly. “lots of cool food, amazing coffee.”

“sounds nice,” you smile back, and watching the two of you makes something warm stir in jeonghan’s chest.

“baby, tell him about that pasta you tried making,” jeonghan teases, and you roll your eyes.

“i thought i would try to make fresh pasta,” you start telling cheol, “but i fucked up. i started boiling it and the pasta just...dissolved?”

“it was disgusting,” jeonghan nods. “like a big eggy blob.”

“ew,” cheol says, looking down at the eggs in his noodles. “don’t ruin my appetite for me dude.”

“sorry,” jeonghan laughs, looking at you carefully. he can tell you’re close, so he decides to let you have a break, turning to cheol. “so be honest. how’s work?”

“you mean aside from our assistants having some kind of beef?” cheol laughs, and jeonghan joins him. “it’s good..” you stop listening, instead focusing on the vibrations between your legs. you press your thighs together looking for more pressure, and as the boys talk about some work drama you cover your mouth to hide a silent scream as you come. you play it off as a yawn, but cheol looks at you curiously. “y/n, you ok? are we boring you?” he laughs. if only he knew what that word meant to you and jeonghan.

“oh no, profit margins and revenue blah blah is sooo interesting,” you tease, shooting them both a glare. “no, i’m just really tired. someone didn’t let me sleep in this morning-”

“we had errands!” jeonghan whines, and cheol watches you two fondly.

“i think i might go splash some water on my face,” you tell them, looking at cheol so you don’t see the way jeonghan will react to you leaving. cheol catches himself staring, but he realizes now why you look different. it’s subtle, but he’d recognize it anywhere. you’ve got that kind of glow you only have when you’ve just come. cheol watches you leave, and then turns back to jeonghan.

“she ok?” he asks, and jeonghan shrugs.

“yeah, but we may not stay long if she’s not feeling well,” jeonghan covers, and cheol watches him closely, but eventually decides to leave it alone. surprisingly, he was having a good time. so he let’s himself enjoy this, returning your smile when you come back from the restroom (vibrator securely in your pocket now). “all good baby?”

“yeah,” you nod. “sorry, guess i haven’t slept enough this week.”

“you need to take better care of her,” cheol says to jeonghan, sipping his drink as he waits for him to respond.

“she’s the one that stays up late!” jeonghan whines, and you try to kick him underneath the table. “whatever. pay for your own lunch then.”

“i got you,” cheol says instead, and jeonghan feels a pang of jealousy shoot through his chest. whatever, he thinks to himself. his plan is going well. he’ll just let this play out and hope it works in his favor.

cheol is still thinking about your lunch together when he goes back to work on monday. it was...nice. like really nice, being back around you and jeonghan. he almost felt comfortable with you again, but there was something about the way you acted that made him suspicious.

he’s got a long day ahead of him, so he needs to stop thinking about you. it’s hard though, being back, so close to you yet so far. he loved you so much, still does. and he knows you do too. but jeonghan...

speak of the devil, there’s a knock at the door to cheol’s office as soon as he sits at his desk. he tries not to groan too loud before telling them to come in, and he’s a little surprised to see that it’s jeonghan. they weren’t supposed to meet until 10, why was he here already?

“you got a crush on me or something?” cheol teases as jeonghan makes himself at home and sits in one of the plush chairs in front of cheol’s desk. “we’ve been around each other a lot lately.”

“you’re a handsome man, what can i say,” jeonghan laughs, and cheol can feel his ears warming at the compliment. “no, i wanted to catch you before your first meeting. i’m afraid i have to reschedule on you.”

“aw, darn, you mean we don’t get to argue about budgets until seungkwan breaks it up?”

“i like to think of it as negotiating,” jeonghan replies, and cheol rolls his eyes.

“you’re such a boss. i never thought you could be this professional,” cheol tells him.

“it’s weird right?” jeonghan laughs, and they spend a few minutes reminiscing over their adventures as crazy kids loose in europe. jeonghan checks a watch that looks so brand new it seems to sparkle, and he stands with a sigh, telling cheol, “so i’ll get kwan to set up a new meeting with vernon?”

“sure,” cheol shrugs. “or whenever you have the time. you don’t need an appointment to come talk to me.”

“oh that reminds me,” jeonghan says, stopping with his hand on the door. “y/n wants to have you over for dinner, so text me when you’re free. it’s a standing invitation.”

“um, jeonghan?” cheol calls, and his friend stops with his back to cheol, smile creeping over his lips. “how is she? like, is she sick, or something? i just noticed on saturday that...”

“that what?” jeonghan asks, turning back to face cheol. “she seemed all right to me. maybe a little distracted.”

“yeah, distracted,” cheol says as he narrows his eyes at jeonghan. “you weren’t..doing anything, were you?”

“what do you mean?” jeonghan fakes innocence, cocking his head to the side.

“never mind,” cheol brushes it off. “i’ll text you to let you know when i’m free.”

“sounds good,” jeonghan waves behind him as he leaves, smug smile on his face as his plan falls into place.

when you come home from work later that week and find cheol on your couch, you’re shocked. well, this has happened before, so it’s not as shocking as that first time, but if you had a nickel, right? it’s weird that it’s happening again, and you have deja vu to that first night seeing cheol again after so long. he can tell you’re surprised, so he wants to go find jeonghan in the kitchen and sucker punch him.

“um, are you here for dinner?” you ask, and cheol nods.

“i thought jeonghan had told you, i’m-”

“sorry baby,” jeonghan says, leaning against the wall near the kitchen, drying his hands. “we talked about this at work, and when you said you made too much of that pork thing i figured it was a good night to have him.”

“yeah, that’s fine,” you nod. “heads up would’ve been nice though, what if i said something embarrassing when i walked in?”

“y/n, we dated for four years, you can’t embarrass yourself around me,” cheol says, and you look at jeonghan to read his reaction. he just shrugs and says, “he’s right. you have no shame.”

“i meant what if i said something embarrassing for you,” you correct him, gliding toward the kitchen to kiss jeonghan on the cheeks. “what if i came in here calling you snookums, then all the guys at the office would know you’re a big softie.”

“snookums?” cheol laughs from the couch, and you turn to him with an accusing finger.

“watch it, or i’ll tell jeonghan what your nickname was.”

“what was it?” he asks anyway, an evil smile on his face.

“sweetcheeks,” you and cheol say together, and jeonghan laughs.

“because he’s got cute cheeks?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“butt cheeks,” you clarify. “he’s got a nice ass.”

“whoa,” cheol chimes in, and you ignore him.

“she never talks about my butt like that,” jeonghan says, and cheol laughs nervously as you move past jeonghan into the kitchen. you’re checking the pork you left in the slow cooker this morning when you feel a presence behind you, and assuming it’s jeonghan you say, “a text would’ve been nice.”

“hey, i told him i shouldn’t just show up like this,” cheol’s voice replies instead, and you jump at the unexpected sound. “shit, sorry.”

“no, it’s ok,” you laugh it off, turning to find him awkwardly standing behind you. “it’s really fine that you’re here, cheollie. promise. i wasn’t expecting it, but hannie was right, we’ve got plenty of food.”

“are you making that thing we tried in vegas?” cheol asks hopefully, and he does a little happy dance when you nod. a couple years back, a pair of your friends from high school got married in vegas and invited everyone they knew. you and cheol went for the ‘ceremony’ but stayed a couple days longer for your first real trip together. there was one restaurant you visited just about every day so you could go back and try everything on the menu before you left. you both agreed that this pork was the best thing you’ve ever had, so when you found the recipe online the other day you knew you had to try it. “do you need help?”

“um, could you make the sauce for me?” you ask, and he nods before walking to the sink. “bowls are above the microwave, utensils by the sink.”

“you y/n-fied jeonghan’s kitchen?” cheol teases. “isn’t there some kind of system you always used when you put dishes away? there’s a reason everything is where it is.”

“well i knew i would be cooking in here the most so i kinda made it mine,” you say, and a whine from the doorway makes you turn. you see jeonghan pouting and you roll your eyes, turning back to the meat as you say, “tell me i’m wrong and i’ll sucker punch you.”

“baby, we have a guest, be nice,” jeonghan mumbles as he opens the fridge, asking you both if you want something to drink. he falls into working alongside cheol, chopping veggies to go with the pork and making sure the lettuce is clean for the wraps.

“y/n, taste this,” cheol says, and you turn to him as he offers a spoon. he makes an airplane noise as he brings it to your lips, and you close your mouth to glare at him. he accidentally bumps the spoon into your chin, spilling a little on you.

“you’re a child,” you grumble, tongue licking at the sauce on your lips. “but damn. that’s good.”

“right?” cheol smiles, turning to jeonghan to do the same, sans plane noises this time. you watch fondly as jeonghan tastes, humming cutely to signify his approval. everything is done for the most part, you just need to let the pork brown in the oven for a minute so you all take your drinks and head back to the living room, obliviously sitting down on the couch in a line, jeonghan, you, cheol. jeonghan immediately places his hand on your thigh, and you see cheol’s hand twitch to do the same. he catches himself though, looking up to see if you caught him just to find your eyes staring back. you’re about to say something, or you want to, at least, but jeonghan asking for the tv remote interrupts. you point behind cheol and he finds the remote, passing it across you to jeonghan.

you watch jeonghan pick something to watch, but it mostly ends up as background noise when he turns excitedly to cheol to ask about some show they both used to be obsessed with. you listen at first, but you lay your head down on jeonghan’s shoulder and close your eyes for a moment. jeonghan doesn’t miss the way cheol admires you like this, and he almost mentions his plan now. but it’s not the right time. instead, he lets you rest, only shaking you awake when he hears the timer in the kitchen going off. he and cheol watch you leave, and when jeonghan notices cheol’s eyes following your ass he smiles.

“do you need help baby?” he calls, and cheol is up and in the kitchen before you can reply. he sees you struggling to reach the nice plates at the top of the cabinet, so he comes behind you with a hand at the small of your back to reach above you with ease. you look back at him, eyes glancing down at his lips so briefly, but he’s tuned into your every movement. he catches it, smirking like hell as he goes to set the table. jeonghan comes into the kitchen next with your discarded drinks, and as you start taking the food he says he’ll get the utensils.

“um, where do you want me to sit?” cheol asks when you enter the dining room, and you look at the table and back at him, shrugging.

“wherever,” you reply. “we barely eat in here, so we don’t have assigned seats.”

“can i, um,” he clears his throat, “can i sit next to you?”

“sure,” you nod with a shy smile, pointing to the spot closest to you. “i’ll probably sit there.”

“so you do have assigned seats,” cheol squints at you, and you giggle as jeonghan finally comes back in, drinks and utensils balanced dangerously in his hands. cheol rushes to help and you say you’ll grab the rest of the food, leaving the two men alone.

“where are you sitting?” jeonghan asks, watching where cheol points so he can place the drinks accordingly. “don’t try to lay a move on my girlfriend.”

“i would never,” cheol says, looking at jeonghan with a slight challenge in his eyes. “same as you?”

“right,” jeonghan nods, and you come back in to some tension. you awkwardly walk past them, the smell of the pork pulling their attention like cartoon characters smelling a pie. they start complimenting you without even trying the food, cheol pulling your chair out for you politely as you sit down. he helps you show jeonghan how to build the perfect wrap, and when you’re done demonstrating you hold the one in your hand up to your boyfriend. he leans forward, looking between you both as he takes a bite, moaning openly at how good it is. “fuck, that’s delicious.”

“damn,” cheol hums, cheeks full of food as he looks at you, “you’re unreal. this tastes exactly like it did at the restaurant.”

“i think she’s a witch,” jeonghan jokes, and you kick him under the table.

“behave, you two,” cheol warns, a joking lilt in his voice, but you and jeonghan listen obediently, everyone falling silent as you start piling your plates and feasting on the delicious food. there’s really no talking, which is fine, but when the meal is over (plates cleared) the boys bicker back and forth over who’s going to do the dishes.

“cheol’s a guest, he shouldn’t have to do your chores,” you weigh in, and cheol drapes his hand over the back of your chair as he looks at jeonghan smugly.

“baby,” jeonghan whines and you shake your head. “you’re mean.”

“you’re meaner,” you reply, standing and stacking plates so it’s easier for jeonghan to take into the kitchen.

“how am i mean?!” he cries, and you hold his gaze, trying to remind him of the last time you ate with cheol. a smile slowly breaks out over his face, and cheol coughs delicately behind you.

“should i leave you two alone?” he jokes, a hint of seriousness in it though. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, but you and jeonghan insist he stay, so he relaxes. he grabs two more drinks for you and himself from the kitchen, playfully sticking his tongue out at jeonghan stuck at the sink.

he comes back into the living room to you sprawled on the couch, so he leaves your drink on the coffee table before sitting in the armchair. you look up at him cutely and pout, saying, “you’re so far away.”

“i’m right here baby,” he lets slip, and when your eyes bulge slightly he backtracks. “shit, sorry, i didn’t um, sorry.”

“it’s ok,” you say, holding his gaze. “so. tell me more about europe.”

“what else do you need to know?” cheol chuckles. “i feel like i’ve droned on about it.”

“you haven’t said..everything, i’m sure,” you say, and cheol gets it. you want to know if he was with anybody else, his ego boosted at your subtle jealousy.

“i haven’t?” he asks, and you know he’s teasing. “i’m not quite sure what you mean, y/n.”

“um,” you sit up before continuing, “any uh, any lucky ladies over there heartbroken that you’re back home?”

“probably a few,” he nods, and you scoff. “i don’t care about them though.”

“oh,” you say meekly, still holding his gaze.

“never did, if i’m honest,” he goes on. “my heart wasn’t in it.”

“sad,” you point out and he nods.

“i’m glad to be back though,” he says with finality. you’re about to respond but jeonghan comes back in and plops down on top of you, pushing your body down into the cushions.

“hannie, we were talking,” you mumble into his chest, not able to move with his lanky body draped over you like this.

“just talking, huh?” he whispers just low enough for you to hear it. “i have something i wanna talk about.”

“what?”

“cheol,” jeonghan calls as he sits up, and you follow, trying to fix your hair as you listen. cheol quirks an eyebrow at you both, and jeonghan says, “you’re still in love with y/n, right?”

“what?” he asks, caught off guard. “i mean, i, i don’t know what you want to hear, man.”

“the truth,” jeonghan admits, and cheol stares for a moment before he says quietly, “i do. i love her.”

“good,” jeonghan smiles, turning to you next. “y/n? you love cheol, right?”

“hannie,” you whisper, and he shakes his head.

“to cheol, baby, tell him,” he whispers back, and you look at cheol as you say, “i think i still love him. yeah.”

“perfect,” jeonghan smiles, looking between you both. “and you love me?” he asks you, to which you agree. he turns to cheol and asks the same, and cheol hesitantly nods. “so we’re all on the same page.”

“no, i don’t think we are,” cheol says, and you nod, pulling his hand to your lap as you ask, “hannie, what are you doing?”

“i want to see you two kiss,” jeonghan says, eyes searing into yours. you gasp, eyes flicking over to cheol, and you catch his hands twitching on the armrests. you look back to jeonghan, who’s waiting expectantly. “what do you think?”

“i think you’re crazy,” you whisper, and his expression falls only slightly.

“it’s just one kiss baby,” jeonghan says with a shrug. “i won’t mind. i’m sure cheol won’t mind. i know you want to,” he says, and you don’t respond. “it’s just one kiss, you can do it for me,” he says again, and your heart picks up speed when cheol pipes up.

“yeah, y/n, it’s just one kiss,” he smirks, and you glare at him.

“you stay out of this,” you point, and he puts his hands up innocently. you look back at your madman of a boyfriend and see the way he’s looking at you, and it’s weird. you know that look. you know he wants this. he’s...hopeful? and you think saying no would hurt his feelings. you look back at cheol, who’s watching you in a similar way, and you breathe out, “fine. one kiss.”

“get to it then,” jeonghan says, patting your thigh as you look between the two men again. your skin feels like it’s on fire as you stand, walking over to cheol knowing they’re both studying your every move. you stop in front of him, suddenly self conscious. you don’t know what to do, so when jeonghan says softly, “sit in his lap baby,” you do it, hands carefully placed on cheol’s shoulders as you straddle his lap, hovering over him. you hear shifting behind you, guessing that jeonghan is moving so he can see better, and then you flick your eyes up to cheol. his pupils are the size of saucers, and you can’t help but let out a little whimper as his hands fall to your hips.

“get comfortable,” he says, “can’t kiss you so stiff like this.”

you let him push you down into his lap, one hand staying on your hip as the other comes up to cup your chin. he lifts it softly, bringing your lips to his in a delicate kiss. your skin erupts in goosebumps, memories flashing back at hyper speed. the feeling of cheol’s lips on yours is intoxicating, and you instantly want more. your lips chase his, eyes still closed as he pulls you away, and the sound of the two men chuckling pulls you back to the moment.

“how was it honey?” jeonghan asks behind you, and watching cheol you respond, “it was good.”

“just good?” cheol pouts, and you slap his shoulder, getting up before you lose your courage.

“i’m, uh, i need to go shower,” you say quickly, avoiding their eyes. “thanks for coming over cheollie. i mean. whatever. thanks for coming.”

you’re gone so fast it’s like there’s a gust of wind in your wake, and cheol looks at his best friend before asking, “what the fuck man?”

“i have a proposition for you,” jeonghan begins, “only if you’re up for it...”

finding cheol in your apartment is becoming more common than you’d like. well, it’s not that his presence is unwanted. it’s just that jeonghan likes to stay unpredictable, so you never know when you’ll come home and find seungcheol on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bathroom? you presume jeonghan is up to something, you just don’t know what yet. he hasn’t asked you to kiss cheol again, though. that was...interesting.

you’ve been trying so hard to forget cheol. you were with jeonghan and you knew you loved him, so you wanted to be there for him in every sense. you tried your best to forget about how cheol made you feel, about how you felt for him, but as soon as your skin touched, as soon as your lips grazed his, everything came flooding back. for a good period of your life you thought cheol would someday be your husband. now, after several whirlwind months with jeonghan, you’re conflicted. you love them both, and you don’t know what to do about it.

jeonghan does.

he knows exactly what he’s doing, inviting cheol over so you never have a chance to talk yourself out of seeing him. he knows exactly what he’s doing when he undresses you in the hall before you shower together, leaving your panties on the ground purposefully for cheol to see them later. he knows what he’s doing when he takes the armchair in the living room, leaving you and cheol to sit so awkwardly far from each other on the couch. jeonghan watches in amusement the way your eyes always flick back and forth to each other, never seeming to look when the other is staring. he knows you both want something. he just needs to sit you down and tell you that he wants something too.

one particular night, you had a feeling you’d find cheol when you came home. you expected it at this point, surprised now when jeonghan would tell you it was just him. today your inkling was correct, and you open the door to jeonghan at the couch, casework laid out on the coffee table while he yelled to cheol in the kitchen. you walk over to him first and press a kiss to his cheek, glancing at the work and piecing together that it was budget stuff he and cheol are constantly bickering over. you get up to say hi to the other man, almost colliding with him as he leaves the kitchen, two drinks in hand. you press your hands to his chest to stop him from spilling everything all over you, and you absentmindedly rub over his pecs as you say hi. he smirks down at you, chest warming at your touch. you catch yourself wanting to stand on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek much like you did to your boyfriend, but that’s not appropriate. you excuse yourself so you can go change, leaving the boys to do their work for a while longer. they get through a couple pages before cheol turns to jeonghan expectantly.

“what?” he asks, barely looking at his friend. “pouting at me won’t get you the money for that advertiser you want.”

“when are you gonna tell her?” cheol asks instead, and jeonghan stills. he told cheol about his plan the night of the kiss, and not so shockingly he was on board. they laid out some ground rules, negotiating much like they are now, but cheol was all for it. jeonghan just had to mention it to you, and he was sure it wouldn’t take much convincing.

“we can talk to her tonight if you want,” jeonghan shrugs, focused on the papers in front of him.

“how are you so casual about this man?” cheol scoffs as he leans back in his chair. then in a quieter voice he says, “you ask me to fuck your girlfriend and you keep talking about it like it’s a business deal.”

“we have an agreement,” jeonghan points out. “so it’s kind of like a business deal.”

“but she’s your girlfriend-”

“and she’s your ex,” he cuts cheol off, finally meeting his judgmental gaze. “we both know her really well. we both know she’ll be into it. the agreement was just...a formality.”

“a formality?”

“so no one gets any funny ideas,” jeonghan says sternly, eyes flicking to the hallway when he hears the bedroom door open. soon you’re walking into the living room, a pair of his boxers and an old sweatshirt replacing your work clothes. jeonghan doesn’t miss the way cheol checks you out as you sit down, throwing your legs over jeonghan’s lap even if he was trying to work.

“i can’t believe you still have that,” cheol smiles, speaking to you as jeonghan starts clearing the coffee table. cheol points at your sweatshirt and says, “you stole that from me two years ago, remember?”

“i didn’t steal it, you left it at my apartment!” you argue, and he shakes his head.

“no, i left it at your apartment once and then you wore it to my place like a week later. i took it off of you and hid it so you wouldn’t take it back,” he says, and you can feel yourself blush as jeonghan looks in your direction. “but then when i was packing that apartment up, hm, suddenly that shirt was missing again. guess i finally know where it ended up.”

“oops?” you offer, and cheol laughs.

“i’m glad you kept it,” he says shyly, eyes darting over to jeonghan ever so briefly. he’s holding onto your thighs, rubbing them softly as he watches you with a strange look in his eyes.

“sorry baby, i can go change,” you start to say, sitting up so you can get off the couch, but jeonghan presses a careful hand into your stomach to keep you in place.

“no, keep it on,” he says. “i don’t mind.”

“o-ok,” you stammer out, stomach doing flips at the heat coming off of your boyfriend. he keeps watching you, and after what feels like forever he eventually speaks.

“baby, i have something to ask you.”

“um, should we go to the bedroom then?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“later,” he tells you, hand leaving your stomach to grab your own, lacing your fingers with his. “how do you feel about me and cheol?”

“hannie, we’ve talked about this, i care about you both a lot but i love you,” you emphasize with a squeeze of his hand in yours. he smiles softly as he brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one as he speaks.

“not what i meant, but that’s good to hear,” he says lowly. if cheol didn’t already know what he was going to ask he’d be straining to hear, but he’s been imagining this moment for weeks. he could practically speak with jeonghan because he’s so sure of what he’ll say next. “no, baby, i wanted to know if you’d be ok with fucking me and cheol. or letting us fuck you. it’s your choice, really.”

“what?” you breathe out, looking at both men in disbelief. as shocked as you are right now, you can’t deny the way your stomach just flipped.

“we can have sex and he can watch, you two can have sex and i’ll watch, it’s whatever you wanna do,” jeonghan continues, and his eyes darken when he feels your legs shift in his lap. “come on baby, use your words. we know you want this.”

“i-i don’t know,” you whisper, looking to cheol who’s staring back at you like he wants to devour you. it sends a familiar shiver down your spine as you look back to jeonghan, his hand coming up to brush your hair back behind your ear.

“yes you do, pretty girl,” he encourages. “do you want to?” you nod. “words baby.”

“yes, i want to,” you say quietly, and cheol feels his dick twitch already.

“what do you want?” he asks, and he watches proudly as you and jeonghan turn to stare at him. you take a shaky breath as you decide.

“i want you to fuck me cheollie,” you answer, looking at jeonghan as you say, “then i want you hannie.”

“let’s go to our room then baby,” jeonghan says before he pulls you in for a kiss, pulling you up with him as he stands. your lips stay latched onto his as you walk, until you feel a pair of strong hands pulling you by the waist. cheol’s chest collides with your back, kissing from the spot behind your ear all the way down your neck. he’s making little marks, but he’s doing it so quickly you wonder if jeonghan told him not to leave any. when he sucks on the part that always had you shivering, jeonghan takes your open mouth as an opportunity to dive back in, his tongue gliding past your lips as cheol pulls you onto the bed with him. jeonghan keeps kissing you as he drapes his body over yours, cheol brushing more of your hair out of the way so he can kiss along your jaw.

“you’re gonna have to let go of her man,” cheol mumbles, sounding only a little bit pouty. jeonghan pulls away from you with a pop, your lips still pursed as he helps turn you around. you feel jeonghan’s hand at the back of your neck as he pushes your face toward cheol’s your lips meeting his in a tentative kiss. you feel sparks ignite across your chest. despite all the forgetting, despite how you feel for jeonghan, you still missed cheol deeply. he missed you, and he can’t see himself letting you go anytime soon. his hands are holding onto your hips for dear life, which makes what jeonghan’s trying to do a little more difficult. he pushes cheol’s hands up so they settle at your sides, holding onto the soft skin of your stomach. meanwhile jeonghan is pulling his boxers down your legs, hissing when he sees you weren’t wearing any panties.

“damn baby, it’s like you knew what we were planning,” jeonghan smirks, tracing his thumb over your swollen pussy lips. you jerk in cheol’s hold, and he takes this as a chance to separate from your lips, peeking over you at jeonghan to ask, “she not wearing any panties?”

“nope,” jeonghan replies, still watching the way your arousal drips out of you, pulling your lips apart as you try to hold back little moans.

“looks like somebody’s still a little slut for me huh?” cheol asks, whispering into your ear. if jeonghan weren’t watching you react to it right in front of his eyes, he would clock cheol for calling you such a thing. but with a shudder of his own he realizes you like it, your entrance clenching around nothing as cheol continues whispering foul things into your ears. “bet you’ve been thinking about this for weeks. months, maybe? how often did you think about me fucking you?”

“answer him,” jeonghan chimes in, and he hears you let out a shaky breathe before you respond. as soon as you start to speak, jeonghan licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, struggling to reach your bundle of nerves at this angle. he pulls you up by the ass so you’re straddling cheol with your knees tucked up enough to arch your back, pussy on full display for your boyfriend. “sorry baby, i didn’t hear that.”

“just that one t-time,” you reply, jeonghan’s hands tracing around your pussy but never touching where you need him most.

“tell me the truth, baby.”

“a c-couple times,” you admit. “wh-when we were in the kitchen. when, um, when we were in the shower a few days ago. and....today. when i was coming home from work.” jeonghan is quiet, the room eerily still, but then you hear and feel jeonghan spit directly onto your pussy, spreading his saliva around to mix with your arousal.

“what were you thinking about?” jeonghan asks, his fingers massaging your pussy without touching your clit. “tell cheol.”

“today,” he adds. “what were you thinking about today?”

“i was-” you gasp when jeonghan’s fingers trace over your clit, “god, i was thinking about sucking your dick.”

“really?” cheol asks. “always so cock hungry. she like that with you, jeonghan?”

“all the time.”

“you like making your men feel good?” cheol asks as he strokes your hair, and you nod. with his hand still on your head, he softly starts pushing you down, saying, “well then show me what i’ve been missing, love.”

you feel jeonghan back away from you, letting you shift down the mattress until you’re at eye level with the bulge in cheol’s dress pants. you settle on your stomach, fingers tracing over the outline you know so well. as you tease cheol you feel jeonghan between your legs, kneeling behind you so he can grab your waist and hold you in place while he eats you out.

you gasp when you feel jeonghan’s tongue at your core, slowly licking up every drop you let out as you undress cheol. you remember how big he is, taking a small gulp when his cock springs to life after you pull his boxers down. you stroke it a few times but you know he doesn’t like to wait, so you lean forward to suck his tip past your lips. the way he groans makes you clench, and jeonghan continues licking, dipping his tongue to your entrance to let you suck him in as he eats you like a man starved.

“don’t tease me baby,” cheol growls, his hand tangled in your hair as he starts pushing you further down his cock. jeonghan rubs his thumb over your clit and you gag around cheol, so he pulls you away for a second to breathe. “fucking missed this.”

“don’t get used to it,” jeonghan says into your pussy.

“no promises,” cheol replies, sighing as you go back to swallowing him slowly. the foul sounds coming from your throat are no match for the way jeonghan is devouring you. he brings two fingers up and hisses as he watches your pussy take them in, and he moves so he can suck on your clit while he finger fucks you. you keep bobbing on cheol’s cock, whines coming from deep within your chest. cheol takes over for a minute, his hands in your hair guiding you, and he curses as he watches saliva spill past your lips. when jeonghan hits that spot inside you cheol watches in awe as your eyes roll back, moaning over his cock and sending shockwaves through his body. he’s trying his best not to fuck your throat, but he wants so badly to let go. to have his way with you. it’s like jeonghan reads his mind, because he pulls back just long enough to say, “don’t hold back, cheol. let her have it. fuck her like you used to.”

he looks down at you, fucked out gaze and a polite nod confirming you want that too. cheol’s grip tightens, bracing himself before he starts fucking into your mouth recklessly. he’s close, but he won’t come until you do. he just hopes jeonghan is feeling generous.

and he is. jeonghan is always happy to make you come. unlike cheol, he never wants you to hold back. jeonghan always wants you to come, but once you start he may not let you stop. you can feel yourself getting closer, jeonghan’s lips sucking your clit alternating with delicate touches of his tongue all while his fingers keep a steady pace at your core. you make the mistake of looking up at cheol, seeing the way he’s staring at you, and the overwhelming feeling of his eyes on you and jeonghan’s touch sends you over the edge. you start to come, jeonghan coaxing you through it, and as your throat constricts around cheol while you moan, his dick twitches once, twice, and then he’s coming down your throat. jeonghan pulls you off of him while he’s still coming, the last few spurts falling over your lips and chin. cheol watches in shock (and a little arousal?) as jeonghan pulls you to his lips, licking up the bit of come you couldn’t swallow. he kisses you, obviously wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue. cheol can’t believe he’s getting hard again, but when jeonghan drops you back down to his lap you can’t help but laugh.

“i’m not the only needy one, huh?” you tease, flicking at his red tip.

“don’t get cocky baby,” cheol smiles. “we’re just getting started.”

“what do you want to do next?” you ask as you swipe your hand over your chin. you look between them both and jeonghan nods to cheol.

“ask him,” jeonghan replies. you turn to see cheol with an evil smile, and he asks, “you still use the color system?” you and jeonghan nod, but cheol shakes his head. “need you both to say yes.”

“we do,” you say with jeonghan. cheol keeps watching you both, an idea brewing behind those beautiful brown eyes of his.

“have you ever tied her up before?” he asks jeonghan, but his eyes stay on you.

“please,” jeonghan rolls his eyes. “we did that before she was even my girlfriend.”

“where do you keep them?” cheol asks, this time expecting you to answer.

“um, box under the bed,” you reply, and you watch him slide off the mattress to kneel on the floor. he looks for a moment, mumbling about there being multiple boxes down here. “it’s the black one.” he’s quiet for a moment, so you ask, “did you find it?” his head pops up, silk ties in one hand and something else in his other.

“what is this?” he asks jeonghan, and that’s when you see he’s holding a dildo. “your dick doesn’t work or something?”

“that’s not for him,” you answer instead, and cheol looks at you in shock. he looks back at the dildo, then to jeonghan who shrugs, a cute blush on his cheeks. “put it back, unless you want me to show you what we do with it.”

cheol scrambles to return it to its box, crawling back on the bed so he can reach for your shirt. “take this off, baby.” you start to do as he says, and he turns to jeonghan, same fiery look in his eyes as he says, “you too.”

“what?” jeongan sputters, and cheol holds firm.

“get undressed, i’m tying you up too,” he explains, and jeonghan looks at you for support.

“what are you doing cheollie?” you ask, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek. he leans into the touch, kissing your palm before he replies.

“this is your punishment,” he says, looking to jeonghan who’s only wearing his boxers now. “both of you.”

“why?” you ask, checking on jeonghan yourself. he looks fine with this, but the way he’s staying quiet has you worried.

“you both left me,” cheol says, his eyebrows furrowed as he unties the silk. he looks up at you, then jeonghan, and asks, “is this ok? what color?”

“green,” you and jeonghan reply, and you look at your boyfriend again. he smiles at you, blowing a kiss, and cheol tells you both to lay down. he sits between you, and starting with you he leans over your body to take your right wrist and tie it to the headboard. he moves to jeonghan next, and you watch closely at the way jeonghan’s eyes keep flitting down to cheol’s lips. he ties jeonghan’s left wrist to the headboard, leaving each of you a free hand still on the bed. cheol uses what’s left of the silk to tie your left wrist to jeonghan’s right, and he smiles when you instantly grip jeonghan’s hand in yours.

“i’m gonna fuck her, is that ok?” cheol asks, dangerously close to jeonghan’s face. he nods, whispering his approval. cheol looks to you and you nod, trying to reach out for him but only getting so far. cheol chuckles darkly as he undresses fully, your breath catching in your throat at getting to see him bare like this again. you’re staring but you don’t care, drinking in the way cheol’s muscles ripple with every movement. you watch as he grips his cock, bringing it to your clit and tapping it over the sensitive bud a few times. you yelp when he slides his cock through your folds, the tip catching on the hood of your pussy. you want him to do more, but he just watches you squirming beneath him in amusement. “baby?”

“hm?” you reply.

“can you do something for me?”

“anything,” you breath out, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel him rubbing his tip against your clit again. “anything, cheollie. just fuck me, please.”

“needy baby,” he tsks, sitting back as he speaks. “i need you to make hannie feel good for me while i fuck you, can you do that?”

“but i’m tied up-”

“you can still move your hand, can’t you?” he asks, gesturing to your hand on the mattress that’s squeezing onto jeonghan’s for dear life. you shake his hand off and reach over to his lap, smiling when hannie let you trace his cock through his boxers. his hand covers yours, guiding your movements, and cheol mumbles, “yeah, just like that baby.”

“need help, cheollie,” you whimper, cutting through jeonghan’s whines and cheol’s intense focus on his friend’s cock. he looks at you concerned, and you tell him, “i need help getting his boxers off.”

“you can do it on your own,” cheol encourages, and he watches you struggle to pull the waistband of hannie’s boxers down enough for his cock to be free. you look at cheol who reaches for your hand to kiss it softly. saying, “see? you can do anything, pretty girl.”

“say something nice to hannie too,” you pout, and both boys feel their stomachs flip. cheol looks at jeonghan, from his eyes down to his lips and then down to his cock. when he looks back up at his best friend he says, “hannie has a really pretty cock.”

“he does,” you agree, using your mobile hand to reach up and stroke his cheek. his own hand gets in the way and you giggle, but jeonghan is a blushing mess. you don’t get to see him like this often, but when you do, you eat it up.

“keep looking at him like that baby,” cheol says, shifting at the end of the bed. “gonna fuck you now. want him to watch you come undone on my cock.”

“he knows what it looks like,” you whisper, and jeonghan smiles at you. you lean forward to kiss him, pulling back with a gasp when cheol thrusts his cock deep inside you. jeonghan can’t help but moan with you as cheol fucks you, your pussy remembering every inch and every curve. he finds a rhythm quickly, holding you down even though there’s no where for you to go. he tears his eyes away from your pussy swallowing his cock to see you disobeying him, not doing anything to please jeonghan. he reaches for your hand and wraps it around hannie’s cock for you, once again your boyfriend covering your hand with his to help you. he curses under his breath as you jerk him off, and you whine at the feeling of cheol fucking your pussy like he’s never fucked you before.

you can tell you’re dripping, and you feel some of jeonghan’s precum spilling over your hand. you bring it to your mouth to lick clean, jeonghan moaning so pornographically it makes cheol’s dick twitch inside you. you go back to stroking jeonghan off, focused on making him feel good so you can ignore the way you wanna cry because of cheol’s cock. he’s not having that, knowing you’re holding back. he knows your body better than anyone. better than jeonghan, even. he lifts your legs above his shoulders, your thighs squeezed together as he fucks you deeper, and his next thrust rips a scream from deep within your chest. he keeps fucking you, watching as your pace on jeonghan’s cock shows how badly you’re falling apart. if jeonghan weren’t helping you, cheol is sure you would’ve stopped by now. you’re letting them both use you however they want, and cheol can’t help it, he comes again, this time painting your walls with his come.

he keeps fucking you, but he gets a new idea. he starts untying your arm from the headboard, stilling inside you but hissing as he feels you clenching on his cock. he lets you catch your breath before he pulls out, admiring the way his come leaks from your pussy. he grabs you by the hips to push you over to jeonghan, sitting you up over his cock. jeonghan moans when he feels some of cheol’s come drip onto his cock, and cheol whispers in your ear, “fuck him for me, baby. show me how good he makes you feel.”

cheol and jeonghan both watch in awe as you sink down on hannie’s cock. once you’re settled on his lap, cock fully sheathed inside you, you let out a choked moan and cheol feels himself get hard again. he always wanted to see you fuck someone else. you’d talked about it before, but it never happened. he can’t believe he’s watching it now, his best girl and his best friend, and he can see the love in your eyes as you bounce on jeonghan’s cock. you know what drives him crazy, both of you moaning softly as you ride him. you sit for a moment, resting your legs, but cheol slaps your ass and tells you to keep going. you listen, fucking jeonghan like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. his hand reaches up to tweak at your nipples, your hand tied to his trying to push him away.

“what’s wrong, honey?” he asks. “too much?” and you nod. “too bad. if it’s too much then you need to come.”

“want you to come with me hannie,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“you know the rules honey. you come first. now if you want to come, come.”

another scream rips from your throat, a few tears falling past your eyes as you ride through your high on jeonghan’s cock. he waits until you’re still on top of him before he starts fucking up into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm jolting you with every thrust. cheol watches as you come again, this time triggering jeonghan’s release. cheol lays down so he can watch your pussy flutter around jeonghan’s cock, both men staring mesmerized at their come dripping out of you. without saying anything they both reach down, swiping fingers through the mess between your legs. you open your mouth, waiting for them to shove their fingers in, moaning at the taste of both of them mixed together. you hiccup when they finally pull back, and cheol helps you carefully lift yourself off of jeonghan. he’s about to say he’ll be right back with a wash cloth, but as soon as you hit the pillow you start drifting off to sleep. cheol looks at jeonghan who shrugs, asking quietly, “can you untie me now bro?”

they’re quiet as cheol undoes the silk, and after jeonghan stretches his sore limbs he shakes you carefully. they both chuckle at the way you wake up, fond smiles staring back at you as you mumble, “what? i’ll kill you.”

“we need to get you cleaned up, honey,” jeonghan whispers before kissing your cheek. he looks to cheol as he says, “will you keep her awake while i start a bath?”

“of course,” cheol nods, watching jeonghan walk to the en suite bathroom. he looks back at you, staring sleepily up at him, and cheol reaches out to stroke your hair. “hey baby.”

“hi cheollie.”

“how you feeling?”

“good,” you hum, watching as cheol moves to lay down next to you. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too,” cheol replies, still playing with your hair. he brushes the sweaty bit away from your forehead, cupping your face after and just admiring you being so close to him again. he never thought he’d get this chance again, and he wants to thank jeonghan for being a freak and making this happen. he also needs to figure out how to make sure nights like this can happen again. now that cheol’s got you, he’s not letting go. he notices it’s been a few minutes, just you and cheol staring at each other, and then jeonghan’s voice pulls cheol back to reality.

“baby?” jeonghan calls, and cheol gets up to help pull you off the bed. you stumble into his chest, wrapping your hands around his waist and waddle walking with him to the bathroom. jeonghan laughs loudly when he sees you two, heart full at the soft smiles you’re sharing and the shy tint on cheol’s cheeks. jeonghan gestures for you, and cheol helps you walk on your shaky legs over to the bathtub. they help you step in, and once you’ve sat down you look to them sadly.

“what’s wrong?” cheol asks, and your pout deepens.

“neither of you are getting in with me?”

“baby, i don’t think the three of us will fit,” jeonghan chuckles, reaching out to stroke your hair just like cheol was a few moments ago. jeonghan carefully traces your features with his thumb as he whispers sweet nothings to you, and cheol moves toward the door. he knows you just had a threesome, but this feels like something he shouldn’t be watching.

“where are you going?” your voice stops him, one foot back in the bedroom.

“um, i was gonna wash up in the guest room,” cheol says. “jeonghan said i could stay there tonight.”

“our bed is big enough for all three of us,” you say as you lay your head on the edge of the bathtub. you yawn as you keep talking, “you can just sleep with us. i mean, technically you already did.”

“um, i don’t want to overstep-” cheol tries to say, but jeonghan cuts him off.

“stay,” he whispers, something in his eyes that cheol can’t read. “she’s right. it’ll be cozy, but there’s plenty of room.”

“i can sleep in the middle so you won’t get cooties from each other,” you chime in, and cheol breathes a sigh of relief.

“ok, if that’s fine,” he nods. “i’m still gonna shower in the other bathroom. you two do whatever you want in here.”

“you heard the man,” he hears you say as he picks his clothes up from the bedroom floor.

“you’ve had enough tonight honey,” jeonghan tells you, and cheol laughs as he hears you dramatically whine, “hannie!!”

once cheol takes a shower, he pulls on the clothes he brought to sleep in and suddenly feels too self aware. he’s in someone else’s home. he’s in your home, your’s and jeonghan’s. he shouldn’t have a space here. he shouldn’t feel as comfortable as he does. he definitely shouldn’t be sharing a bed with you two tonight, but as if jeonghan knew, he’s standing at the door, calling softly, “come on cheol, y/n keeps whining that you’re not in bed yet.”

“she gets needy when she’s tired,” cheol points out, and jeonghan nods enthusiastically.

“i know,” he agrees. “but it’s kinda sweet, isn’t it?”

“jeonghan?” cheol says quietly, and his friend steps into the room to hear him better. “thank you. for trusting me. with her. with this.”

“sure,” he nods, visibly nervous, but not for the reasons cheol assumes. “i mean, you’re the expert here, really. i just. i’m glad you were up for it. she really liked it. i..really liked it.”

cheol is about to say something else when his phone ringing stops him. he chuckles and holds it up for jeonghan to see, who rolls his eyes. cheol answers, speaking loud enough for you to hear him down the hall. “what do you want?”

“is jeonghan with you?” you ask, and cheol hums confirmation. then they both hear you yelling from the bedroom, “then come back here!!!”

“i’m getting water, do you need anything?” jeonghan asks as they both leave the guest room.

“i’m good,” cheol waves him off, and jeonghan says he’ll be right back. cheol walks back to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway. you’re on your phone, but you let it fall to your chest when you hear a presence at the door. “hey. jeonghan’s getting water.”

“ok,” you reply, scooting over to make room for him on your side of the bed. “come lay down.”

“is it against the rules if i kiss you goodnight?” cheol asks jokingly, but you shake your head no, and jeonghan adds from the doorway, “no, it would actually be kinda rude if you didn’t.” cheol watches jeonghan walk around him, placing a glass of water on your nightstand. he kneels on the bed to reach your lips, kissing you softly before he walks around to his side of the bed, leaving you to look at cheol expectantly. he bashfully gets on the bed, on instinct grabbing you by the waist as he lays down. he looks at you before leaning in, kissing you softly and whispering good night before he pulls away again.

“night cheollie,” you whisper back, reaching for jeonghan behing you. you manage to pull his arm around your chest, tucking it under your own arm so his hand is at your chest. you press a kiss to his knuckles and whisper, “night hannie,” and you knock out pretty soon after that.

“are you gonna turn the light off?” jeonghan asks, and cheol notices he’s been watching him. your head is so low on the pillows that jeonghan can stare directly at cheol, and he watches as his friend turns around to flip the light off. cheol returns, finding jeonghan’s eyes still watching him.

“you waiting for a goodnight kiss or something?” cheol teases, and jeonghan shakes his head.

“not unless you want one,” he challenges, and cheol stares back, mind obviously somewhere else. “what’s wrong?”

“why her?” he asks quietly. “why did you start dating y/n, of all people? i’m happy for you, please don’t think i’m not, but...it hurt, finding that out. it hurt from both sides. so..why?”

“because i missed you,” jeonghan whispers back, something sad in his voice. “i think we both did, and something about this, about us, just made it seem like you were here.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“anymore questions?”

“not right now, no,” cheol shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes. “but it’s...good to know.”

“we can talk about it more tomorrow,” jeonghan says, situating himself so he’s more comfortable. he closes his eyes before he says, “you need to rest cheol.”

“yeah,” he sighs, knowing he’s got too many thoughts floating around for that to be a possibility. “night jeonghan.”

you wake up in the morning to sounds of snores. usually it’s just jeonghan’s soft, airy snores you wake up to, but today it’s like there’s a thunderstorm happening. that’s when you remember cheol, and as if on cue, his arms tighten around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. jeonghan’s face was laying on your shoulder, so he falls slightly and wakes himself up. he blinks up at you a few times, smiling when he finds you staring back.

“morning baby,” he whispers.

“morning my love,” you reply, and he kisses along your shoulder. “how’d you sleep?”

“good,” he nods. “i didn’t wake up at all, which is surprising with snore master over there.”

“i can hear you,” cheol grumbles. “go back to sleep.”

“no,” you and jeonghan say in unison, and cheol groans.

“you’re annoying.” you roll over so you can wrap your arms around cheol, jeonghan grabbing onto your waist and propping his head on your shoulder. cheol peeks an eye at you both and says, “you’re annoying. but kinda cute too.”

“who, me or hannie?” you ask, and cheol pretends to think about it.

“both?”

“sweet,” jeonghan smiles, kissing your shoulder again as he slides out of bed. “i’m making coffee. you gotta get up if you want any.”

“how long did it take him to figure that one out?” cheol asks while you watch jeonghan get dressed.

“like the second date?” you guess, and jeonghan nods to confirm. you look back at cheol and say, “he’s pretty smart. he also learned not to interrupt me when i’m reading like way earlier than you.”

“no fair, i told him that,” cheol pouts, and jeonghan whines back that he wouldn’t remember something like that. they bicker back and forth, cheol’s pout getting more and more pronounced. you lean forward and kiss him mid-whine, stilling nervously with your lips still on his. you look around and find jeonghan watching you, and he shrugs.

“if you weren’t gonna shut him up i was,” he says as he walks out the door. “no more kissing without me though, i’ll feel left out!”

“so he’s ok with us kissing,” cheol smiles at you, and you smack his shoulder.

“we fucked last night, yeah he’s fine with us kissing.”

“well! that was last night,” cheol starts, fiddling with your hair like he always did when he was unsure of what to say next.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he looks up at you sadly.

“i can’t leave,” he whispers. “i don’t...i can’t be without you again.”

“cheollie,” you sigh, threading your hand through his hair. “let’s go talk about it, ok? you won’t lose us again, i promise.”

cheol follows you like a lost puppy into the kitchen. he nods politely when you ask if he wants coffee, and his heart flips when you hand him a mug made exactly how he likes it. jeonghan’s got yours ready, so you all stand around the kitchen drinking quietly. you’re staring at cheol, and his eyes keep nervously flicking over to jeonghan. finally you turn and reach for jeonghan’s hand.

“hannie, i have a question,” you start. jeonghan grabs your hand in his and kisses it before telling you to go on. “is it ok if cheol stays a few more days?”

“a few more days?” he asks, looking to cheol for confirmation. he doesn’t want to meet jeonghan’s eyes, but when he does, he relaxes instantly. that thing cheol couldn’t read last night is back. the way jeonghan’s looking at him right now is the same way jeonghan looks at you. that gives him enough confidence to nod, clearing his throat as he says, “yeah, um, i could stay in the guest room? but. i was wondering. if we could maybe...”

“date?” jeonghan finishes. “like, the three of us?”

“maybe?” cheol squeaks out.

“sure,” jeonghan nods, looking to you and then back to cheol. “you wanna go out today?”

after a quick breakfast at home, you all get ready to run some errands before the actual “date” jeonghan claims to have planned. in reality it’s just dinner and a movie, his treat, but he keeps talking it up like it’s gonna be the best night ever. and maybe it will be. you never knew you could feel so loved, but you realize now that being with jeonghan and cheol gives you more than enough. you happily watch your boys argue over the best snacks at the grocery store, cheol swearing up and down that he knows what you like best while jeonghan argues that maybe your tastes have changed over the years. they’re both right, though. you like both. all. put everything in the cart, boys included. you’ve never been happier, and seeing the two of them together shows you how much they care for each other, too.

one of the stops on your list of errands was, surprise, shopping for a new outfit. you needed something to wear for a big investor’s dinner coming up, and it was funny to watch the boys bicker over who would pay for your dress. it was also very distracting and borderline disrespectful to have them comment on every piece you tried on, their comments getting bolder and both men getting antsier the longer you sat them through this torture. you told them you were doing one final sweep of the store, hoping to find something that really jumps out, and when you return you push them both into separate changing rooms to try on some pieces you found with your boys in mind. it gives you a moment alone to try on the last dress and admire it without any heckling, but when jeonghan steps out of his dressing room he lets out a low whistle.

“you look hot as fuck, baby,” he tells you, arms wrapping around your waist and his head falling to your shoulder. his hands drag across your stomach, admiring the beading, and he tries moving a sneaky hand up beneath your chest. the sound of cheol coming out of his dressing room diverts your attention, and you make grabby hands for him to join you in front of the mirror.

there you stand, smiling proudly at your boys. you look gorgeous, and they look...confused? cheol looks at himself in the mirror, then at jeonghan, then turns to you and asks, “did you make us try on the same outfit?”

“what?” you laugh, pulling jeonghan from behind you so he can stand at your side. with both of them on display, now it’s easy to see that you gave them the same clothes. you’re almost drooling at the way that they both effortlessly make a pair of slacks and a button up look so sexy. you grab their hands closest to you, swinging them as the boys stare at their reflection.

“his thighs look better than mine,” jeonghan points out.

“sure, but your clavicle is very tantalizing,” you tease, kissing his cheek. when you turn back to the mirror, you see jeonghan’s blush and give his hand an extra squeeze.

“why’d you do this?” cheol pouts, still looking at the three of you in the mirror. “i feel silly.”

“sorry, i’ve just always wanted two boyfriends,” you start out, “because i want to dress them like twins.”

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skzdarlings · 2 months

Text

bodyguard: the first guard | part two | chan/reader

masterlist.

(part one of the previous story.)

part one | part two | part three | tba

( read on AO3 )

A sequel to the Bodyguard. Miroh's daughter is assigned a bodyguard of her own. The past is confronted when old friendships and new enemies are pushed to the brink.

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: sequel to the bodyguard (felix/reader). this is a new reader perspective. the previously established story dyanmics: explicit violence, mentions of torture, death. chapter word count: 12,000 words.

B E F O R E

Felix is wearing itchy civilian clothes, the jeans distractingly stiff. Regardless of how many field missions he is assigned, he never gets used to undercover disguises.

“Look what I found,” Chris says, dropping into the seat beside him.

Chris looks marginally more at ease in his baggy basketball shorts and baseball cap, passing for a teenage boy on an afternoon train with his friend. They are in the passenger car outside the first class cabin, a compartment that should contain their mark but presently sits empty.

“Uh, the target?" Felix asks. “You know, the thing you just went to find?”

Chris giggles like the whole situation is funny. Felix is far less amused. This should have been an easy job: get in, kill the mark, steal back the data he took from Miroh, and get out. But so far it has been tedious.

Felix can’t even blame Chris this time. For some reason, Chris has been more accommodating lately. Chris is fifteen, almost sixteen, and Felix is twelve. They have both been active in the field for a couple years. Felix is not sure why Chris has opted for sudden compliance. He does not necessarily volunteer for jobs but he accepts them without much grudging reluctance. He will occasionally voice his worser grievances but for the most part he is keeping his head down.

Maybe it is the result of all those punishing sentences in the Cell. More than once he has been shoved down there, sometimes alone and sometimes with Miroh’s daughter. Felix would not want to spend any isolated time with her. But maybe she is intimidating enough to get through to Chris.

Whatever it is, it is working. Excluding moments like this when Chris is giggling and distracted and doesn’t seem to care about the job at all.

“Relax, Felix,” Chris says. “It’s a train. There’s only so many places he can be, yeah?”

“Well, there’s one place he’s supposed to be but he isn’t there, is he?” Felix says.

“Lighten up, mate,” Chris says. “We’re supposed to look normal. Normal kids have fun.”

Chris dumps a candy bag in Felix’s lap. Felix looks at it like it’s a bomb.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Felix asks.

Chris opens his own bag and starts eating the candy.

“That,” he says. He tosses a piece in the air and catches it in his mouth. When he tries to do it again, Felix snatches it mid-air and throws it on the floor. This makes Chris laugh.

“He was in the dining car,” Chris relents. “Four security officers. Ex-military. Piece of cake.”

“Why didn’t you say that before?” Felix asks, annoyed. He starts to stand but Chris yanks him back into his seat.

“The hell, man?” Chris says. “You gonna go ventilate the guy while a bunch of civilians are having afternoon tea? Ya think that might blow our cover? Just a bit?”

Felix frowns but he knows Chris is right. Miroh does not like a public mess. They will have to wait until the mark returns to the privacy of his cabin.

Felix does not like waiting. It is a part of a soldier’s training, but his least favourite part by far. He prefers action. With the quiet stillness comes fear, doubt.

The latter makes him sweat. He tries not to think about it. His life is his mission. Through Miroh, Felix has contributed good things to the world. Lately, it just seems like no matter what he does, the world does not stay good.

The Enemy has been dead for two years. The new enemy, his idiot heir, has holed up like a dragon guarding his hoard. He has built defences so high that not even an army like Miroh’s can breach it. There has been no retaliation, no offensive strike like the old enemy, but these deep roots are almost more sinister. Felix is starting to think this might be hopeless. That maybe Miroh is wrong. That maybe some things cannot be saved.

Felix crinkles the candy bag in his lap. He gathers himself and exhales.

“Fine,” he says. “How long do you think he will be distracted? Enough time to get the data?”

“If it’s in there, yeah,” Chris says. “Might as well check. He just started eating so we should have some time.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Chris frowns like Felix is inconveniencing him with the job they were sent here to do.

Felix is not in the mood to argue. He shoves his candy bag in his back pocket and pushes past Chris. They make their way down the aisle. No one lifts their head, the two boys disappearing in their inconspicuous disguises.

They pick the lock to the first class cabin. Felix opens the door and looks around the room, for a moment a little stupefied by the luxury. It is all deep mahogany and gold trim. Their target is an engineer who stole designs from Miroh to sell to the enemy. The wealth of this cabin exemplifies that corruption, surely.

Felix tells himself that as he rifles through the luggage. He finds a laptop and tells Chris to stand guard while he collects the data. Chris is the better fighter but Felix is better with technology.

The laptop loads. The home screen is the mark with his family, three smiling, sunny-faced children, all younger than Felix. It gives him a queasy, uneasy feeling, a feeling that should be long scrubbed out of him by now.

He blames it on the rocking of the train carriage. Physical sensations can manipulate mental energy.

He searches through the computer storage for the stolen designs. Both Miroh and the enemy are chasing government building contracts, tying their businesses irrevocably to political power and pursing relationships therein. These plans will cinch the deal for whichever party has them. The engineer who betrayed Miroh masqueraded as a potential recruit before stealing the plans.

There is only one problem; Felix knows how to read metadata and he cannot find anything that was once on Miroh’s servers. In fact, some of these designs go back years, well before Miroh even considered pursuing these contracts.

“What’s taking so long?” Chris asks, poking his head in the room. “You’re usually a computer whiz. Is something wrong?”

“The files aren’t here,” Felix says. For the fifth or sixth time, he opens what looks like the plans. Everything except the metadata matches the description. But that metadata does not lie.

These files do not belong to Miroh.

Chris double checks the corridor before joining Felix. They look at the files together.

“Isn’t that it?” Chris asks. “It looks like the right thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s not,” Felix says, his eyes darting frantically all over the screen. “Or it should be. But these, uh, these files aren’t Miroh’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this guy stole the plans from Miroh. But all these files are original. They were never on Miroh’s servers.”

There is a moment of quiet. Chris is not famous for reservation so Felix looks at him. He is embarrassed to find a pitying look on Chris’s face.

“Felix,” Chris says. “Come on, man.”

It is not exactly a condescending tone, rife with too much sympathy to be so cruel, but It sounds like Chris is saying, don’t be stupid.

Felix swallows. He looks down at the plans. The realization hits him and the words come to his mouth, rising like bile.

“We’re not stealing back the plans,” Felix says. “We’re just stealing them. Aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah,” Chris says. “You didn’t know that?”

“How did you know that?” Felix snaps back, embarrassed and upset and very, deeply confused.

“It wasn’t exactly a stretch,” Chris says. “It’s what Miroh does. It’s what they all do. You haven’t figured that out yet? You?”

Felix, who has done the most assignments. Felix, who is the most successful agent in the special-ops program. Felix, who is the best only because the real best refuses to be.

He studies Chris, this older boy who seems so confident he has all the answers. Felix does not even know all the questions. He feels that weakness and vulnerability he so hates, the entirely world suddenly unfamiliar enemy terrain.

“Look, it’s fine,” Chris says. “Just take the data and we’ll leave. We’ll tell Miroh the mark got away. He cares more about the plans anyway.”

“Lie,” Felix says. “You want us to lie to Miroh?”

“It’s not a lie,” Chris says. “It’s just protecting the truth.”

Felix stares at him. Chris, on steadier feet than Felix, sighs and pushes Felix out of the way. He loads the data onto the external hard drive himself. He then makes a show of ejecting it and putting it in his pocket.

“Let’s go,” Chris says.

Felix does not get a chance to protest because the door opens. They have no time to react. In seconds, they are joined by the mark’s security team.

Felix knows how to fight. It is second nature to him. He should not need to think.

But he does. He overthinks. He gets a look at the mark before a bodyguard whisks him away. Felix thinks of the smiling faces on those children. He thinks how he is not much older than them.

There is a growing pit of anxiety inside him. It swallows him whole.

Felix and Chris fight to get away. Chris could take all these guards on his own but he is trying to avoid severely hurting them. That distracts Felix too. Suddenly, Chris’s refusal to fight does not seem like cowardice but instead it is something Felix cannot name. Something he once saw in Miroh but doesn’t anymore.

Distracted, Felix does not fight like he usually does.

The first class cabin is a private attachment at the back of the train. The fight lead onto the outside landing at the end of the car. A guard dislocates Felix’s shoulder. The next thing Felix knows, he is tumbling over the railing. He manages to grip with his good arm, holding all of his body weight to avoid getting snagged and ripped along the train tracks.

But it won’t save him. He’s going to die. The realization hits him like any other calculation in a fight, when he measures his odds and deduces his best move.

He has none. The train is moving too fast and he is at a bad angle to jump. He has one good arm keeping him alive and no way to fight the approaching guard. Chris has taken out his own adversaries and should be retreating with the data. That is what they are trained to do. The job is more important than the soldier. In a crisis, you leave the weak behind.

Felix braces himself to let go, hoping the above-average strength in his body can also withstand slamming into railroad tracks at high speeds. He suspects even if he does survive, he will be severely injured, abandoned in the middle of nowhere, and dead to the only place he has ever known.

But the guard falls back. Chris knocks him out with sharp efficiency. He then lays the unconscious man down with almost comical gentleness.

Chris runs up to Felix. Felix wants to shout at him – everything from go away and finish the job to my shoulder hurts and I need you to save me.

Chris gives no opportunity for argument or acquiescence. He shouts, “Hold on!” Then he swings himself over the railing. He wraps an arm around Felix and hauls him into his side. Once secure, he carries them back over the rail and onto the landing.

“What are you doing?” Felix asks. He cannot slow the race of his heart, seemingly tethered to the thunder of the train car against the tracks. He is not sure it will ever slow again. He thinks he might remember this moment forever.

“What am I doing?” Chris asks. He laughs for some forsaken reason. “Just doing this, mate,” he says.

He seizes Felix by his injured shoulder. Felix winces, having only seconds to brace himself before Chris shoves his dislocated shoulder back into place. Agony washes over Felix, hot and sharp, the pain rattling him worse than the actual dislocation.

“Sorry,” Chris says. “Sometimes getting better hurts more for a bit.”

The rest of the mission is a blur to Felix, lost to the throbbing ache in his shoulder and a similar pain taking root inside him.

They make it back to Miroh’s facility. Chris hands the hard drive off to an upper level agent while Felix sees a medic. The bag of candy is still in his back pocket. He sits in the infirmary a long time, just crinkling it between his fingers. He feels like his world is crashing around him.

It is days before Felix has an opportunity to see Chris again. They are in different barracks because of their age difference, the soldiers grouped by year. When Felix finds Chris in the corridor, Chris is talking to Miroh’s daughter who lives in the barracks too. They are on their way to their bunks.

Felix taps Chris on the shoulder. Chris looks at him, his laughing expression faltering when he sees Felix. He must see something in him that Felix cannot even recognize in himself.

Chris turns to Miroh’s daughter and says, “I’ll catch up, yeah?”

She spares Felix a glance and Felix feels an unusually panicked skip in his blood. It feels like she can see his mental turbulation the way Chris can. But unlike the rest of them, she has a direct line to Miroh. She might live and act like a soldier but she is more and always will be. Felix balks under her scrutiny, worried she will see his doubt and report it right back to Miroh.

Felix is grateful when she leaves. But when Chris looks at him so expectantly, Felix no longer knows what to say.

It takes a moment.

“I wouldn’t have done the same for you,” Felix finally says. It comes out as instinctively as a punch. “I wouldn’t have saved your life. I would have just finished the job.”

Chris blinks at him. He exhales on a laugh. Then he claps Felix’s good shoulder, a touch of clear camaraderie.

“I know, Felix,” he says. “I didn’t do it so you would pay me back. I didn’t do it because I thought you would do the same. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

Felix thought he was speechless before but now he is truly at a loss. Even his long engrained instincts fail. He is out of punches.

Chris just smiles at his confusion. With one final nod, he turns and retreats to his bunk.

Felix stands in the corridor, wounded but bandaged. He stares at the place where Chris stood, like if he looks long enough then Felix will understand what Chris understands. That maybe there is a right and wrong outside of what they have been taught. Maybe things exist outside of this place.

Maybe some things can be saved.

P R E S E N T D A Y

“Ah, it’s the classic story,” Changbin says with a sigh. “A boy and a girl, forced to share a bed. He is her bodyguard. She is an heiress. Should we kiss on the lips?”

You whack him in the gut with a pillow and he erupts with giggles.

Changbin has been your so-called bodyguard for a few weeks now. It has changed little in your daily routine as your father had assigned Changbin to your department sometime before that. The special-ops program was written off as an experiment with potential for future development, though that development has long sat arrested. Bang Chan is in your father’s direct employ while Changbin has been on different teams fulfilling different missions. When you started taking the lead on projects, he served under your direction.

It is why your father is not happy. The bodyguard arrangement was meant to assert his control over you, using an agent as his eyes and hands. Miroh is not good at relinquishing power, not even to someone like him, or maybe especially to someone like him. You have always been a good, loyal, obedient soldier and daughter. Taking over projects and assuming command was inevitable. Somehow you have wronged him by doing everything right.

Lately, your work has been meagre clean-up duty. Miroh has been accruing assets and terrorizing his way into the mess left behind by his late enemy. It is making Miroh’s paranoia even worse. He has seen for himself how this powerful house fell apart just because its patriarch died. The business was left in shambles, underlings squabbling like helpless children. It was ripe for picking.

You have been cleaning whatever mess is left behind. This week you have been cleaning out some old office buildings, primarily sifting through abandoned storage for anything useful that might have been sequestered. You are spending the night at a nearby safe house, sharing a room with Changbin. The rest of your team is scattered around the house.

Seeing as your father has relegated you with menial tasks, you have taken it upon yourself to conduct your own investigations. Your findings have been on your mind all day. It is why you do not respond to Changbin’s joking with your usual wit.

“You’re quiet, murder princess,” Changbin says. “Should I be worried?”

He drops his mask on the nearby desk then unholsters his gun. He places it beside yours. It is a testament to your dynamic that you feel comfortable disarming around each other. You would certainly never do it around your father. But Changbin is different. You are not someone who seeks true friendship but you acknowledge the necessity of teamwork especially in times of crisis. You do not fully trust Changbin as you do not fully trust anyone, but he is loyal and you reciprocate that dependability.

It is why you beckon him forward. You are sitting on the bed, feet on the floor. Changbin pulls up a chair to sit in front of you.

“The enemy had a multi-level security system,” you say. “Physical in some capacities, digital in others. My father has always been more preoccupied with offense than defense, so in that regard they were always a step ahead of us. That is the part my father is interested in. That is all he sees.”

“And what do you see?” Changbin asks. His disposition changes with the severity of your words, joviality replaced with equal seriousness.

“I don’t see anything,” you say. “That’s the problem.”

He lifts an eyebrow, curious. You show him the image on your tablet, then swipe to the next one.

“The security log is missing information,” you say. “There is no trace of anything unusual transpiring the day they were all killed. No breach, no shutdown. Everything is normal until everything is gone. Someone scrubbed every last second of data from the digital system. Someone who knew the system well enough to not just delete the surface files but to clean the server entirely.”

“So what are you saying?” Changbin asks. “You think it was an inside job?”

“I know it wasn’t us,” you reply. “I know it wasn’t any of the usual players. This family had enemies in every market. If it was one of them, you’d think they would have stepped forward to assert themselves by now. Whoever it was had no interest in taking over company assets. No interest in even sticking around. Someone went to great lengths to make the entire thing look ambiguous, to leave everyone asking more questions, to turn our heads in one direction while they disappear in the other. Someone professional. Someone technologically capable. Someone whose only motivation was escape.”

His jaw is clenched as he stares at the images, but you can see the gears turning in his mind. When he meets your gaze, you sit forward.

“Changbin,” you say. “What happened on that mission?”

He does not need specification. Changbin is usually like you, pragmatic and realistic. He does not dwell in his emotions and never for so long. It has been well over a month now but he is still rankled by that warehouse confrontation with Lee Felix.

“Ah, Yongbok,” Changbin says wistfully. His eyes are downturned but his thoughts are somewhere else. “You remember him. He always needed a fairy tale to believe in.”

That much is true. You and Changbin have always been simple soldiers manoeuvring through the morally complicated world around you. You never had any delusions that Miroh was better than his enemies, simply that one or the other was inevitable. You knew you could make a bigger impact in the fight than watching from the sidelines.

Felix was competent but naïve. He believed in Miroh unequivocally which is why he blind-sided them all with his betrayal. To this day, you do not know why he joined the enemy, nor why he stayed.

It makes sense he might have naively devoted himself to a different cause.

“What fairy tale was that?” you ask. “The enemy?”

“Chris.” Changbin looks at you beneath the sweep of his dark bangs. His smile is wry. “He asked me about Chris.”

You blink back at him, surprised by the answer. After stumbling over any number of replies, you say, “That wasn’t in your initial report.”

“It didn’t seem important,” Changbin says with a shrug.

“You have a responsibility to report back everything—”

“Yes, commander,” he says dryly. He slumps in his seat and crosses his arms. “Does it matter now? I told him Chris was dead.”

Not a lie, in a way. Bang Chan was a rebellious subject in his youth, nothing like the merciless soldier he is now. The inhuman machine was wrought through inhumane treatment. You were not privy to the grittier details nor have you ever felt an inclination to investigate. You do not need knowledge of the gruesome torture that was administered. The results are the same: the rebellious boy died. He has been gone ever since he was dragged into a basement room for correction.

“Chris,” you say. The name sits heavy on your tongue. “Why would he want to know about Chris?”

“The better question is, why didn’t he want to know about me?” Changbin retorts. It sounds like a joke, his tone jumping back into comically exaggerated hysterics. But there is a tension in his shoulders that was not there before. “You know he didn’t even recognize me? Ah! The little brat! I knew him too! I wasn’t Bang Chan, no one was … But I was there. Forgetting me… We’re all that’s left!”

You tilt your head and study Changbin, as if there are more answers in his face than in his words. Your gaze drifts to the scar by his eye. He got hit today, taking a swipe meant for you. Other adversaries have sent agents to scour the late enemy’s business remains, but they are no match for soldiers of Miroh.

Changbin joked he was being a good bodyguard. In truth, he is a good bodyguard. Your security team is competent but nothing compared to him. It has made a difference, having someone so reliable at your back, even though it has painted a target on his. Your father is not happy Changbin outsmarted him. Changbin jokes about it, as he is wont to do, claiming he can’t wait for a pummelling of his own. He is probably right. Miroh has been quiet about the bodyguard assignment but that does not mean he has surrendered. He is a strategist. He is patient if it means results.

Raising children into soldiers is a testament to that patience. You look at Changbin, arguably the last true survivor other than yourself.

We’re all that’s left.

You find yourself reaching for him. It is not like you, but lately everything seems out of character. You touch his face, drawn to that scar, a scar that should be yours. You touch it very lightly.

When you meet his eyes, he is looking at you strangely. You are not a famously affectionate character, not even with him. You rip your hand back and shake your head.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, more curious than accusatory.

“Nothing,” you say. “I mean – well.” You scrub a hand over your face. The weeks have healed the worst of your injuries, but it is still littered with scars, including the ones Changbin gave you.

His eyes linger there before he sighs and drops his head. He rubs his face too.

“We’ll talk later,” you say, suddenly feeling the weight of today, not to mention the accumulative exhaustion of the days before. “It’s been a long day.” An understatement.

Changbin doesn’t argue. You separate to use the facilities and dress down for rest. You sleep in sweatpants and a t-shirt, your weapons and shoes not far. The one bed has plenty of space. You lay down first, certain that your mind is running too fast to rest, but all that exhaustion catches up to you.

You wake some time in the middle of the night. When Changbin gets out of bed, the dip and rise of the mattress stirs you. You blink awake, watching him amble over to the window. There is a cushioned seat and he plops down, his arms crossed and his eyes on the stars.

You wonder if you look that young out of combat clothes. His hair is ruffled and the black t-shirt and pants are comfortably fitted. His face looks vulnerable and open as he stares into the night.

“You’re awake too,” he says, not looking at you.

“Obviously,” you reply. You push yourself upright. “You woke me.”

“Sorry,” he says, trying to flash you one of his jovial grins but barely managing.

“You look tired,” you say.

“Thanks,” he replies with a laugh.

“You should go back to sleep.”

“I’m on bodyguard duty,” he jokes, gesturing to you. “I need to make sure no one murders the murder princess.”

You give him a dry look that makes him giggle. Naturally his humour returns at your expense. He really is the little brother you never had.

You slide off the bed and join him at the window seat. You shove and kick like bickering children until you are comfortably settled. You sit with your legs curled up to your chest, mirror images of each other. He looks out the window and you look at him.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says, an automatic response. Then he shakes his head and sighs. “I don’t know, princess,” he says. “I don’t think you’ll understand.”

“What makes you say that?” You cannot help but feel offended even if he is probably right. You do not have heart-to-hearts, which is what this feels like, a quiet moment carved out of chaos. If everything was different, you would just be two friends talking about your normal lives.

Your life is anything but normal.

“I know you,” he answers, simple and confident. “I know who you are. Even when – well, no matter what happens, I guess.”

“Well,” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, “that makes one of us.”

You swallow your thoughts quickly. Your innermost turmoil cannot be entrusted with anyone. It is dangerous to even think such weakness, never mind vocalize it.

Changbin looks at you with a pinch in his brow. You look away, up at the sky. You wonder about the vantage from the stars, seeing the bigger picture of your life. Your pain and sacrifices have to be worth something. Miroh always said the world was full of shadows, dark spots no regular person could clean. He was right about that. He is definitely one of them, but sometimes only darkness can fight darkness. Or so you thought. All this business with the enemy has changed things. That darkness collapsed in on itself like a black hole, taking everything with it.

“It used to be easier, didn’t it?” Changbin asks. “Just doing what you’re told… You can tell yourself it’s not your fault, that it would have happened anyway… Maybe I was believing in fairy tales too.”

You look at each other. He just sighs.

“A part of me feels like I never grew up,” he says. “I’ve always been what I am. Maybe it’s time to stop.”

“That sounds a lot like treason,” you say, realizing how dramatic it sounds after the fact. Miroh is a businessman and this company is not a country. And yet treasonous is what it feels like, a deep betrayal to the place that raised and shaped you into what you are. It feels like treachery to even think about abandoning it after everything.

“Maybe it does,” he says. He gives you another wry smile, flicking his bangs out of his face. “Does it matter? He already wants my beautiful head off its beautiful shoulders.”

“You shouldn’t be saying this to me,” you say. You’re Miroh’s daughter. Your relationship with your father might be fraught, but your loyalty is to this house and always has been. It is the only constant in this tumultuous, violent world.

“Are you gonna tell on me?” Changbin teases, so unserious on such a deathly serious matter. He just laughs at your silent but intense stare. He shakes his head as he looks out the window. “I don’t worry about that.”

“About what?”

“You telling on me.”

That stops your heart faster than the treason.

“Why not?” you ask slowly, as if you are wary of a trap about to spring.

Changbin puts a hand in his hair, shaking out his ruffled bangs. He looks normal but also not, his strong body so clearly built for violence. It is why you are shocked when he reaches out, when he touches you like you touched him, an undemanding press of his fingers along a scar.

Your startled eyes find his. It splits your focus. You see Changbin right now, older, stronger. You also see him younger, thinner, looking at you with concerned eyes as he wipes blood off your brow.

You blink again and it is just him as he is now.

He drops his hand.

“You don’t trust anyone,” he says. “I know. Ha! I really know.” He swings around, planting his feet on the ground. He reaches into his pocket then flicks open a pocketknife.

It should make your heart palpitate, a soldier with a weapon in your proximity, especially when you are unarmed. But there is no rush of blood, no fear, no worry. You just look at him, seeing all of him, young and old. You realize there has been more than one constant in your life.

The knife catches a glint of starlight, a flash of light in the darkness.

“You and I are the same, aren’t we, murder princess?” he says. “But also not. You were raised in the pen with us but it was never the same. We’re just animals to him. Raised to the slaughter, ha! But not you. One way or another, you’re going to be someone.”

You watch as he lifts his hand. He curls and uncurls a fist. He looks down at his palm.

“When it happens,” Changbin says, “Because it will happen, tomorrow or in a month or a year or whenever Miroh decides… But when I go like the rest of them… When it’s just you and you’re trying to decide who you want to be, not who your father wants you to be… When you’re trying to remember everything and you can’t decide what was real and what was just training and what was Miroh…”

He draws a slow slice across his hand, not so deep to be detrimental to his grip, but enough to draw blood in a long, thin line. You look at this small scar as if it the deepest wound you have ever encountered.

“Just… remember me,” he says. “I didn’t bleed because I believe in Miroh. I’m your soldier, not his.”

You are at a loss for words. You do not think there are any words, none that you were raised to know. You can only stare at the little trickle of blood as it runs down his wrist and drips onto the floor.

You have always felt very alone. You learned to thrive in that solitude. Even clinging to the hope of your father’s approval proved exhausting and useless. You accepted your high promontory was a lonely one.

Not even that solitude compares to the idea of Changbin gone. Even if you go weeks without seeing him, he is out there somewhere. You both keep your heads down, get the job done. Not the best soldiers, not the worst, but the ones still here.

You let instinct override your senses for the second time that night. When he makes to stand, your reflexes snap into action. You grab him by the arm and snatch the knife. He has no time to respond, watching as you slice a similar scar on your own palm.

Your eyes meet. You are unflinching, more resolute than ever. You clasp his hand and the blood smears in a signifying pact that needs no other words.

Only when the moment settles do you say, “You’re not a half-bad bodyguard.”

His laughter comes to him slowly, none of that empty joviality but a genuine burst of it. His eyes crinkle and his smiles widens and the laughter bubbles out of him.

“I’m the best bodyguard,” he says. “And don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

In the light of day, last night’s whirlwind of dramatic emotions feel tempered. You and Changbin are able to conduct yourselves with a proper degree of soldiership. Though his words and your promise are in the back of your mind, you put it away for now.

You dress in combat gear and pack your bags for another day of infiltration, investigation, and clean-up. It is hard to say how easy or difficult the day will be. If you encounter other agents, the confrontation could complicate things, but sometimes that is better than a long day with no interesting discoveries at all.

The enemy had properties scattered all over town, some active and some not. This particular office building is a very old one, seemingly long since abandoned and turned into company storage. Some of these boxes have not been touched in decades, perhaps remnants of the business as run by the previous generation.

A thick layer of dust coats the desks and boxes. At least your masks are put to work, filtering the dusty air as you trail through the building.

“Yahhh,” Changbin whines, flicking some papers off a desk. “Today’s going to be boring.”

“Yup,” you say in accord. There is no way anyone else will be here. You doubt there is anything of value to be discovered, but Miroh will harass you if you do not complete his missions as outlined. With so much tension between you already, it is better to keep your head down and complete the menial tasks, even if it is blatant busy work.

A few of your officers are sent ahead to sweep the building. It is not a towering skyscraper but several tall floors nonetheless. Your subordinates take different floors while you and Changbin take an upper level. You begin the tedious task of rifling through the abandoned documentation.

“I’m a supersoldier, not a secretary,” Changbin gripes, moving boxes with more force than necessary.

“You’re not a supersoldier,” you say without looking up from your work. “There’s no such thing.”

“I’m pretty close,” he says, flexing and kissing his bicep.

“When you start flying, maybe I’ll consider it,” you retort, dryly.

“All right, I’m not a supersoldier,” he says. He takes off his mask to grin at you. “But I am super good looking.”

You take off your own mask to throw at him like a projectile. He squeals and ducks, then proceeds to cuss you out for the next few minutes while you smile.

Eventually he takes a seat. He props his booted feet up on a desk while sorting through some papers with absent-minded perusal.

“So tell me again about the security log,” Changbin says, evidently growing bored within minutes.

You can hardly blame him. It is why you are about to reply, but your thoughts are quickly obliterated. Gunfire reverberates in the nearby stairwell, followed by shouting and thumping. Seconds later, your warning pagers are vibrating. Your officers’ voices come through the communications software.

“Hostile enemy agents breached ground zero,” they say. “Be ready for confrontation.”

You and Changbin spring into action. Your masks are unfortunately abandoned, too far to grab in a rush thanks to your shenanigans, but your bags and weapons are within reach. You swing them on and arm yourselves, racing into the corridor to join the rest of your team.

It happens very fast. One moment, this ancient building is nothing more than a dilapidated office from a bygone era, brimming with useless nothings that no one would want. The next moment, it is overflowing with enemy agents, pouring in one after the other.

You and Changbin join the other officers in the stairwell. None of you are prepared for the sight that greets you, the sheer number of adversaries that come streaming into the building at rapid speed.

“What the fuck,” you say, realizing far too late you cannot take this many agents. You have not had anything near this problem before.

You look at Changbin, both of you shooting uselessly to stop the encroach of hostiles.

“We need to retreat,” you say in unison. You nod at each other.

The message gets passed along the communicators. There is no way to escape through the ground floor, the enemy agents chasing you up the stairwell. You take out your phone to call for back-up, relaying the message directly to Miroh’s team leaders.

“Can you at all identify the hostiles?” the man asks.

“Do we know who they are?” you shout at Changbin over the gunfire and chaos.

“Ah, well they’re not friends!” he replies.

You pause in your ascent to squint down at the approaching horde. The uniform colours are familiar at a glance, but the dog tags confirm your suspicions. It locks you in place with shock and confusion, because there is no way that makes any sense.

These agents belong to the enemy. The enemy. It explains the numbers, as only that house could rival Miroh in terms of size and numbers. But it is not possible he is conducting an offensive attack because he’s dead and his business is in shambles. There is no one to conduct an operation on his behalf. It makes no sense.

Changbin grabs you by the back of the neck, hauling you up the stairs with him.

“Not the time to stop and smell the flowers, murder princess,” he says.

“It’s the enemy,” you say. “I don’t know how or why, but it’s them.”

“We’re sending a back-up team straight to you right now,” Miroh’s leader says.

You end the call to focus on your surroundings, confusing and chaotic as they are.

You watch as several of your officers are taken down. You wince at each reverberation of a gunshot that kills them. A dozen more faces flash in front of your eyes, every child in that program with you, every enemy you have killed on Miroh’s behalf. Chris. Felix. Changbin, young, small, looking at you with concern.

The reign of fire follows you. You think you will be hearing gunshots for days.

“Get her out,” one of your officer’s says into the comms, directed at Changbin. “Leave through the roof. We’ll hold them off.”

You trip running up the stairs.

You never trip, far more coordinated than the average soldier. But you hear your officer say that and your mind’s eye is overwhelmed with the image of them dying. Because that is what will happen. You should not be bothered by it. You can train a new security team. They exist for this exact reason.

But all their faces are flashing in front of your mind. Your team, the program soldiers, the First Guard. A thunderous pain rattles down your spine, a cry leaving your lips as you are inundated with visions of death that you suddenly cannot shake.

“Up, up!” Changbin shouts, hoisting you onto your feet. “You’re better than this!”

He’s right. You are a soldier. You trained for this. You were made to fight.

You push through the pain and thunder. You get your feet back under you. You race with Changbin to the roof and trust your team to do what is best.

You slam and bolt the door behind you. You look around for something to barricade it but there is nothing. Changbin meanwhile opens his pack and takes out the rappel line and harness. You have had little use for it on most of the assignments, but it is standard tactical gear when assigned any investigation or clean-up work, as it can require getting into locked areas through sky access. You almost left them behind today, knowing the building was abandoned and you would have no difficulty getting in. You are glad you decided against that.

“Here,” Changbin says, handing you the harness. “Put this on.” He ducks back down to finish securing the line on the edge of the roof.

“They’re not gonna be able to hold them,” you say, fitting the harness around yourself. It is second-nature. You hardly need to think, fastening every buckle as you stare at that closed door. “They’ll be on us in seconds,” you say. “They’ll just follow us over the roof on the line.” You grant your odds are better on the street, that you can endeavour an escape, but that is only if you get that far. Those enemy agents are going to blast down that door like it’s made of cardboard, then they will be on you.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your adrenaline propelling every breath. You do not have time to think twice. It is why it takes you so long to notice that Changbin has not put on a harness.

“What are you doing?” you ask when he stands, completely unprepared to rappel down the building. “We have to go! Put your harness on, idiot!”

He takes the hook and locks it onto your harness, fastening it with a few skilled flicks of his fingers. You grab his hand, stopping him.

He takes a breath and finally meets your eye. The wind blows his dark bangs across his face, opening up his expression to you. You can feel the furious scrunch of your own features go lax. Just like that, your adrenaline dwindles, all that heat turning to an ice cold block in your chest. It drops to your gut.

“Changbin,” you start.

“You’re going to go down that line,” he says. “When you’re at the bottom, I’m going to cut it so they can’t follow you. It will buy you time to get to the vehicles and get away.”

“Absolutely not,” you say. “What the fuck are you thinking? You—”

“I’m your bodyguard,” he says with that wry smile. “This is my job. Let me do it.”

“No,” you say, struggling against him. You try to unhook the rappel line but he fights back, not your usual play-fighting but deadly serious. “You can’t be serious!” you shout. “We’re the same thing! If you’re staying and fighting then I’m joining you!”

“We’re not the same thing!” he shouts back. “You’re a Miroh! You need to get out of here!”

“You’re right, I am a Miroh!” you say. “It’s me they want anyway! You put on the harness! You can still get out of here!”

“I’m not leaving here without you!”

You want to reply. The words are right on your lips: I’m not leaving here without you either.

But before you can say them, all that thunderous pain fractures your vision again. Your focus splits. You see Changbin in front of you, dressed in his combat gear with the wind in his hair.

Then everything changes.

The sunny sky darkens and the rooftop disappears. You see the colour grey. It is all around you, halfway blinding you, filling your lungs so you can hardly breathe. You blink rapidly, as if that will clear your vision, but it is just more grey and the sound of faraway voices.

Then you see Changbin again, in his combat gear but years younger. Just a teenager, all skinny cheeks and sharp angles. There is no wind in his hair. There is no wind anywhere. He is bleeding profusely from a head wound, a stark slash of red in the middle of so much grey. He says your name. You hear your own voice but it is a foggy, faraway thing. You cannot make out what you are saying. When you look down, you cannot see your body. You can only see him. You can only hear him.

“I’m not leaving here without you,” he says.

Then you are abruptly yanked out of that grey. You are back on the rooftop in the sunshine. Changbin has his hand planted on your chest, securing the last piece of the harness. You hear the thud of someone kicking at the bolted door. You look there frantically. Changbin does too. Then you look at each other.

“I told you I was the best bodyguard ever,” he says, smiling.

He whips off his glove, revealing his freshly scarred hand. He grabs your bare hand, the one with the still-tender scar. He clasps your hands together and looks at you with a desperation you have never seen before, like he is trying to tell you a thousand things with just a glance.

Then he slowly lets go of your hand.

“Sorry I can’t fly,” he says.

He shoves the middle of your chest, hard. You go tumbling over the edge of the roof just as the enemy agents break the door down.

There is nothing you can do mid-air. You can only shout his name, terrified and furious and desperate all at once. You scream your emotions out until the line comes to an end, a few feet from the ground. You unclip your harness and drop to the ground smoothly.

“Can anyone copy?” you speak into your comm, looking up at the roof helplessly. You watch as an enemy agent swings over and starts to climb down the rope. You draw your gun and brace yourself.

Then Changbin’s head pops over the edge. “Copy,” he says, then cuts the line.

You jump out of the way. Seconds later, the enemy agent comes careening into the ground. The pile of rope lands on top of him.

“Fuck,” you say. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Changbin!” you shout hysterically into your comms. “Changbin, can you copy?”

He doesn’t answer. You run over to the body, searching for something. You don’t even know what, you just know that this whole situation is wrong.

It does not take you long. You roll the body over. Though his neck is now twisted at a fatal angle, you recognize the agent. He was standing in your father’s office just a few weeks ago. His name was Agent Slump. You shot him through the shoulder.

These are not enemy agents attacking the house of Miroh, they are your father’s men attacking you.

You push away from the body, looking frantically up at the roof for any sign of further commotion. You see nothing from this vantage.

You run back into the building. You let adrenaline and instinct carry you up the stairs, taking a few at a time and ignoring the burn in your thighs. This is Miroh, you keep repeating to yourself. Your father has done this. Sending fake enemies after you. Teaching you yet another lesson. You said you could handle yourself. You said your security team could protect you. Now you are running past their dead bodies, your chest heaving from exertion and emotion. You find yourself blinking back tears. You cannot remember the last time you cried.

“Changbin,” you say into your comm, tripping on another step. Your voice comes out of the comms on your dead officers. It echoes in the empty stairwell. “Changbin, answer me, please,” you say. “It’s not the enemy. It’s my father. It’s Miroh. Changbin. Changbin.”

You are halfway up the building when you hear voices below. You stop to listen. Your vibrating phone makes you jump.

“Miss Miroh?” comes a voice, then you see one of your father’s officers at the bottom of the winding stairwell. This one is not playing a part. He is in the standard uniform. There are more officers behind him. The back-up you called like an idiot.

You do not go back down. You drop your phone and race to the roof.

“Get her,” you hear the officer say, then the stairwell is thundering with footsteps as they chase you.

You no longer know what you are doing. You do not know where you are going or what you will find. A part of you is unsurprised when the rooftop is empty, that they got away, that now your father’s men can come in and play hero.

You look around for Changbin but you cannot find him anywhere. You try to tell yourself that is a good thing, that it could be worse, that he could be as dead as your security team, just a body on this roof. You try to tell yourself that he is safe. It was just Miroh. They are probably taking Changbin back to the main facilities right now. Everything will be fine.

Deep down, you know nothing will be fine. Everything has changed.

You hear the officers behind you. You look around. The building next door is too far for a regular person to jump, potentially too far for you to jump. It will be cutting it close, but it is all you have. At this point, you halfway hope you’ll fall and your father’s men will be forced to report they let you die.

You shed the top layer of your combat shirt, getting down to the tank top underneath. You are not sure it will make a difference, but every bit counts. You back up and count a few seconds, then you take a running leap off the roof. You get a grip on the next one, though not without a lot of pain. You grit your teeth and hoist yourself up, ignoring your scraped arms as you take off running. You open a skylight and drop into the building. Another empty corridor stretches in front of you.

You decide your objective it to escape. You can confront your father after, but right now you need to prove you can handle yourself. You can get out of here.

You are certain your father’s men will have the vehicles locked in. Once you escape this building, you will have to find another—

A window behind you shatters. You duck and cover your head as glass explodes around you. You roll to get away, though your limbs are shaky from everything. When you get to your feet, it is more unsteady than usual.

You turn around. You feel that sinking feeling in your gut again.

“Oh my god,” you say. “Of fucking course it’s you.”

Bang Chan stands there, cold and ungiving like the living shadow he has become. Your father likes an agent that can both disappear and intimidate, so Chan somehow feels like a terrifyingly huge figure, looming over you, despite the fact he is not much bigger or taller. His presence is hulking, as deadly and awful as you remember. He stares at you with those dark eyes over the half-mask. He is not breathing especially hard despite the fact he just took a running leap from the opposite building and smashed through a window. His body is as steady and ungiving as his gaze.

You do not waste any more breath cursing. You turn and run.

You know it is useless but you have to try. In your head, if you get away, that is a bargaining chip. You can talk to Miroh, you can show him that you were right, you can have Changbin back, and Changbin will be fine and—

You let out an aggravated cry when Chan grabs you. You manage to rip away after a few good kicks. It is amazing what hidden strength lies in adrenaline. Your heart is pumping even faster than your last fight with him.

You duck into a stairwell and jump over the railing, landing a couple floors below. You keep doing that, ignoring the fact you can hear him copying you. If you look back, it will slow you down. You keep jumping until you hit the bottom floor.

You make it a few steps before he grabs you again. This time he is relentless, a big gloved around wrapped around your throat.

That adrenaline betrays you. It is like all your training abandons you as your terror and fury rips through you. You struggle against him, your motions jerky and frantic and poorly strategized. He pins you to the wall, using his whole body to lock you in place so you stop kicking him.

“Let me go,” you say, barely above a whisper. It makes him tighten his grip on your throat. You twitch helplessly, gripping his arm uselessly, your face pinched with anger.

You are swiftly joined by the other officers. You glare at them, still digging your nails into Chan’s arm. He does not soften his grip until he is ordered, then he puts you on your feet. You stumble, your vision covered in black spots as you suck in deep, gasping breaths. It was not even just the choking, as he did not squeeze hard enough to fully incapacitate you, but as your adrenaline dwindles, your strength does too.

You trip for the third time. Someone grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back up. You are not sure if you are more surprised or terrified to find it is Chan, looking at you with calculating eyes. You stare back at him, this manifestation of your father’s worst, most inhumane actions. You are torn between apologizing to him and kicking him again.

Then another officer grabs you. You watch with alarm as he puts you in handcuffs.

“What the fuck?” you ask. “Who’s fucking side are you on?”

“Miroh always, of course,” the officer says. “This is for your own good. You are behaving erratically. Don’t be scared. We will inform your father that you tried to flee from your own protective officers. I am certain he will do everything in his power to ensure you cannot put yourself in harm’s way again.”

You have no more words. An animalistic cry escapes from your chest, ripping through you. Even with your hands cuffed behind your back, you dive at the officer and take him down. You bite down on his ear until you taste the metallic tang of blood. He screams under you until someone rips you off him. They hold you by the back of the neck like a poorly behaved puppy.

The officer gets to his feet. Blood is pouring down the side of his neck, part of his ear torn. You spit blood at him.

He raises his hand as if to strike you. You stand there, chin jutted forward, ready to take it.

Then you realize it is Chan holding you. When the officer brings his hand down, Chan moves you. He steps in between you and catches the officer’s wrist.

Chan says nothing. He does not need to say anything. He looks at the officer and the officer swallows.

The officer snatches his hand back and straightens his clothes.

“We’re leaving,” he says. “Guard, take your charge.”

You are looking smugly at the officer. That cockiness dissipates when Chan turns around and looks at you. It has you immediately shrinking away, then flinching when he grabs your arm.

They take you to a truck. It is one of the holding trucks, the kind they use for transporting undesirables. It is obvious they always intended to lock you in chains. You have been in metaphorical chains your whole life, and it is only taking this to realize it.

You try and slow your frantic breathing. You cannot have a breakdown right now. It will only make it harder for you when you confront your father. You are already at a disadvantage, being dragged to him in literal chains. You will be completely at his mercy, and Miroh does not have mercy.

You sit on the bench in the back of the prison truck. You expect to be alone with an officer, giving you time to strategize and think, but then it is Chan climbing into the van and sitting on the bench across from you. All the hairs on your body stand up. You cannot concentrate on anything with Bang Chan in close proximity. He moves like a wild animal, something predatory and swift about him. When they close and lock the door, your heart skips beats.

Chan says nothing. He never says anything. On the rare occasion you have been in contact, you have not heard a word out of him. You seldom have anything to do with the missions he runs. They are above even your paygrade, the worst of Miroh’s work.

You swallow. He is not speaking but he is staring. He does not remove the mask. You have not seen him without it in years. He is nothing but a soldier. An army unto himself.

Your heart skips another beat. An idea slowly forms in your mind.

You are better than average. Chan is better than you. You cannot take all these agents on your own, but you could definitely take them with his help. Of course, that is an entirely hypothetical thought. It would be absolutely, completely, severely ridiculous to even try. You are certain the best reaction you will get out of Chan is nothing, just a penetrating stare and silence. The worst would probably be a snapped neck.

You curl your hands behind your back. The scar on your palm stings. You clench your jaw.

You have nothing else to lose.

“You’re not a soldier, you know,” you say.

Just like you suspected, he says nothing. He just stares at you. The truck rattles along, jostling you so your handcuffs jingle. He moves with the sway of the vehicle, hardly affected.

Your fear turns to frustration. You heave a breath.

“Did you hear me?” you ask. “You’re not a soldier. You’re a prisoner. You’re not who you think you are. Miroh has you under his control, but it’s not real. The real you is in there somewhere. And the real you—” The words come rushing up, slamming into your furiously clenched teeth, “The real you hates Miroh almost as much as me.”

Chan stares at you. That is expected.

What is unexpected is the slow tilt of his head. It makes you shiver, instinctively cowering as he studies you. His brow slowly quirks, a questioning expression. You did not know he could make such an expression.

“Are you… listening to me?” you ask.

He straightens, but he still looks questioning. It is enough for all your desperation to rush to the surface. You fall forward, slamming on your knees in front of him. You are so scarred and bruised, it hardly matters. More important is the fact he looks down, as if he is more concerned by it, though you cannot read any more expressions on his stoic face.

“Chan,” you say. “Chris. Whatever you want to be called. If you’re in there, then listen to me, please. I know you don’t know me. We hardly knew each other at all growing up. But we did grow up together. Miroh is controlling both of us. He is going to use us to do things. He—” You curl your fist behind you, needing to feel the sting on your palm. It brings a tear to your eye.

Chan is looking at you, expressionless again, but it doesn’t matter. You have to try.

“It’s not just us,” you say. “This is bigger than you and me. I have a—I have a friend—my friend, you understand, and I—”

The van comes to a stop. Chan grabs you by the shoulders and puts you back on your bench. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head. You want to scream.

When you open your eyes, you pour all your anger in your glare. It is not directed at Chan, though he is the one to catch your gaze and hold it.

You are still looking at each other when the door is unlocked. There was only a small window providing light in the cabin of the truck. A bigger slash of golden light has you wincing.

Chan is unaffected, still staring at you. An officer opens the door wider and nods to him.

“Let’s go, guard,” he says.

Chan gets up. You watch as he struts past. He jumps out of the van and lands smoothly on his feet.

Then he reels back and punches the officer. It is quick as a snap, the unconscious body hitting the tarmac in a flash. It makes you jump, the bench rattling underneath you.

You sit, petrified, confused. Chan slowly turns. You blink at him.

He holds out his hand.

“What?” you say. It comes out a rasp. You cannot manage more words. There is no way your frantic, barely coherent pleading got through to him. This man has been tortured into compliance. There is no humanity left in him, no memories, no emotions, no hopes. He does not feel anything. He does not understand anything. He is a weapon.

He is still holding out his hand.

There is nowhere to go but forward. You get to your feet and shuffle towards him. He still does not speak, nor does he look at you with any particular expression. He just holds out his arms and lifts you out of the van. When you are on your feet, you stare at each other.

He spins you around. A gust of breath whooshes out of you. You panic for half a second, then you realize he is unlocking your handcuffs.

Never mind. He is breaking them with his bare hands. You watch as they hit the ground in a mangled heap. You turn around slowly, your knees still shaking.

Chan is calm as the other officers approach. Someone asks why you are out of your handcuffs.

Chan looks at you. You do not know why or how, but he nods.

You nod back.

You are a soldier. You trained for this. You were made to fight. It is time to remind them of that.

Your father is in his rooftop garden. Miroh has a few soft hobbies like that, gardening among his favourite. He sees himself as a cultivator as much as a green thumb, bringing more life into the world despite what life he takes. It balances for him. The ends always justifies the means.

You walk into his garden. It is obvious he is not expecting anyone, much less you. He does not have time to hide his surprise. You just fought your way through all of his security measures, battered and bruised and beaten. You have not seen yourself, but you are certain your body is a canvas of violence right now.

“Hello, father,” you say.

“Go to my office,” he replies without hesitation. “We will talk there.”

“No,” you say calmly. “We’ll talk right here. Right now.”

He is holding a watering can. He puts it down without looking and it tips over, splashing everywhere. Neither of you look at it. Your eyes are locked on each other. You both know what he did today. He is smart enough to work that out.

“Where are my men?” he asks.

“Detained,” you answer. Chan is holding them off somewhere. You still do not know why or how, but there will be time for that later. You have to solve one problem at a time.

You have no real plan. You are making it up as you. All you know is that scar on your hand is throbbing.

I’m not leaving here without you.

You touch your palm, running your finger over the scar. You do not look away from Miroh as you approach him. Your legs are weak, your knees shaking, your body in agony, but you take one step after the other. Given the stricken look on his face, you think this might be more disturbing than if you were healthy.

Your injuries might have made you equal fighters, but his arm is still in a cast, weakening him too. He will not win in a one-on-one fight. He is smart enough to know that too. It is why he takes a careful, calculating step back.

“You’re injured,” he says. “Go to the infirmary. We can talk after.”

“We can talk now,” you reply, taking another step forward.

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” he says.

“Where is he?” you ask.

You are both speaking calmly, moving slowly. The watering can is slowly leaking water, gurgling in the background. Wind moves through the flowers. You hear birdsong in the sunshine. Still, in the background, it feels like the world is screaming, the high-pitched whistle of that pot at a boiling point.

“Who?” your father asks.

“I’m not playing any more games,” you say. “I’m not playing dress-up with any little secret agents. I’m not getting in any rings and playing made-up fights with your silly toy soldiers. No more lies. No more games. No more secrets. Seo Changbin is my best officer. I want him back. Tell me where he is.”

“His time as a soldier has run its course,” Miroh says. “His body is more useful than him. The initial special-ops experiment was a failure. His genetics might unlock the key to replicating the medicant. We can try again. You should want to help me. You would know better than anyone what worked and what did not.”

Your exhaustion and emotion nearly gets the better of you. You almost hurl right in front of him, imagining all the horrifying implications of genetics and keys. You imagine them taking Changbin apart, piece by piece, experimenting on him like a slab of meat.

You keep your disgust and horror down. You take another step forward.

“Give him back to me,” you say. “Right now. I told you already. I’m not playing any games.”

“You are deeply unwell,” your father says, his tone changing as he looks at you with more scrutiny. His whole face seems to darken with the furrow of his brow. “This is not like you. Go to the infirmary.”

“I’m not asking again,” you say. “Give him back to me.”

“Why?”

Because you’re my father, should be a good enough answer. You know it will not work. You know he does not care. Miroh hates you because you are his daughter. Miroh is not scared of anyone because he knows he is the best. He is scared of himself in you. You never stood a chance.

“Because he’s my friend,” you say, because that is the only truth that matters anymore.

It makes your father laugh unexpectedly. You do not break.

“Your friend?” he asks. “Oh, well, my dear, if he’s your friend, then of course I’ll suspend all my plans and operations!” He continues to laugh.

“I already told you,” you say. “I’m not asking again.”

You fly at him without further warning. He has a half-second to react, his eyes widening as he side-steps clumsily. With your mutual injuries, it is not much of a fight. After a short scuffle, Miroh kicks at your legs, your weakest point, and you double over. He swings his knee up into your stomach and it makes you fall, curled protectively over yourself. You plant your forehead on the ground, arms around you, breathing hard.

“That is how a daughter should be before her father,” he says, looking down at you in your broken little bow.

You look up as he reaches into the lapel of his coat. He has kept his gun in the same place for years. In the same place you always keep yours when you wear a long coat.

He puts his hand there and finds nothing.

You uncurl, showing the gun in your hand. You point it, cock it, and place your finger on the trigger as you stand.

“If the next words you speak are not his exact location, I’m killing you,” you say.

“Then kill me,” he says.

He must know you are running on fumes and a half-baked plan that you did not believe would work. He is calling your bluff, knowing you like he knows himself. You will drop the gun and concede. Miroh wins. Miroh always wins.

But you are gripping that gun with your scarred hand. It sends a twinge of pain shooting up your arm. You hear Changbin’s voice in your head.

You pull the trigger.

You are not sure who is more surprised. You can feel it on your own face, dripping with your sweat and blood. You lower the gun and watch as Miroh stumbles backwards, frantically patting his chest. You wonder if he is wearing any protective layers.

It doesn’t matter, in the end. You spent the last few minutes walking him backwards. If you couldn’t get the gun, you were going to grab him and threaten him with the edge of the roof.

When you shoot him, he stumbles. He falls back. He goes right over the edge.

You stand there for a long minute. The watering can has emptied. The wind has gone still. The whole world seems to stop. When you drop the gun, it hits the concrete with a clatter. It feels very strange that the sun is still shining.

You walk to the edge of the roof. You look down. Your father has loomed over the world from this perch for years, looking over the things he has so meticulously grown.

He is laying in a broken heap at the bottom of it now.

You do not know how long you stand there. The wind begins to blow again. You feel it on your face.

Then you hear a voice. It nearly makes you jump.

“What now?” it asks.

You turn around. Bang Chan is standing there in his dark combat gear, that half-mask still fastened in place. He has finally broken a sweat, his hairline damp, and his chest is moving a little faster with breath. He is human somewhere under there. Deep, deep down. You have no idea what to do with that human anymore than the soldier.

One problem at a time.

A few more officers appear on the rooftop. Chan turns. You approach him.

“What now?” you repeat. You scoop up the discarded gun and point it at the officers. Chan draws his own and does the same. You stand side-by-side, arm-to-arm, eyes on your adversaries. “Right now,” you say, “we fight.”

You pull the trigger.

The fight begins.

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanficiton #bang chan fanfiction #skz x you #stray kids x you

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yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

Note

Hi,I really love everything your write and wondering if you could do 141+Alejandro & Konig got heartbroken as Reader said no to their proposal of marriage then few years later they all realise that the Reader just want to protected them because the enemy was threaten them to kill 141+Alejandro & Konig?

Take your time and don't forget to drink water.

— Yandere TF-141 and König reacting to their darling refusing to marry due to being threatened

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about death and torture, hints of sex, and kidnapping.

A/N: Aw, thank you <3. Also, I decided to change up your question a bit; I don’t think they’d wait a few years, so I changed it to: ‘When they find out after they’d kidnap the reader’. Hope that makes sense. Enjoy :)!

Captain “Price” John:

He’s confident; something a Captain should be. When buying the ring, he makes sure it’s all customized and liked to your taste – something he admires a lot. It’s a beautiful, classy Koa wood ring; stainless steel with gold specks.

When the time is right, and he’s on his knee, Price would be taken aback at first from your rejection. He’s quick to asking why, but with you dodging any of the questions and watching your nervous body language, he’s soon putting away the ring and distracting you with your favorite take-out.

Reaching his breaking point and taking you away from the public eye, leading him to finding the reason you denied the marriage, Price is… angry. His hands tighten into white fists, his threatening tone asking ideas and clues on if you know it is.

When words slur out of your mouth, he’s telling you to stay clear upstairs. A kiss on your forehead as a promise to be back before 8. Before you know it, you’re awakened by the front door opening and slamming, his recognizable boots storming into the bedroom as he huffs and pants.

John never told what he did, and he didn’t have to. Not with the way his beard was stained with blood, his tactical gear and guns stained with… gore.

Days later, the news began talking about a gorey show; images of those enemies, and classified information on how they were killed due to the inhumane ways of torture. A pang of relief and a slight hint of fear. He was inhumane. But he did it for you, it shows his love and obsession.

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Marriage is big for Ghost. A big commitment. But, something he wants and needs with you. Marriage binds people together, and he would make you officially his. The ring is simple, but gorgeous enough. It’s hand-made, made in thick black gold with Moissanite Celtic jewels; engravings of vines.

The moment he passes the box while eating after a particular romantic act, Simon is holding your hands as he whispers the works – he’s hopeful and nervous; ready to slide the hand-made ring he worked months on onto your promising finger.

But the moment you reject him, he will become quiet. He would just stare at you confused, not wanting to believe that he heard that right. But once the situation settles in, it will get uncomfortable and awkward. Simon will simply nod, before sliding it back into his pocket and finish eating – doing the dishes and heading off for the night, not looking or speaking at you.

Though, the minute he makes you permanently his, figuring out why you denied the engagement ring, Ghost becomes a brutal person.

His eyes are darker. Nothing is in them. He’s demanding, using his Lieutenant voice to ensure you stay here and do as he says while he leaves. A kiss on the lips and your forehead was comforting, but seeing the rifle slung on his back wasn’t.

It had been days since he was gone. And ensuring you were okay, he frequently called you — his nicknames and lovely nicknames were a comfort. Though, the next day he returns, his mask sliding off the minute he sees you; his lips crashing on yours as he greedily picks you up.

Nothing of that day is talked about, but he promises you it’s fine, he took care of it, and you’re safe. Nothing can or will hurt you as long as he breathes against your lips.

—

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

Soap always dreamed of marriage, especially when you came into the picture. Days and months, if not years, going into the thought of the ring. He makes sure the ring is the most extravagant; silver and rose gold, an oval cut mixed with mossy green and pearly white. It has a crown, mixed with smaller jewelry all around the gemstone.

When he got on his knee and saw your nervous look, a shy shake of the head, his heart stopped. Johnny is in absolute denial, not even wanting to think that you just don’t like him. He blamed it on everything else. You probably didn’t feel well that day, maybe he did something wrong, someone else confused you now in your life. Due to his delusions, he didn’t fight against his darker thoughts, believing that it was all just for you and making you help to realize your feelings.

He didn’t get it. Why didn’t you want him? Though, he’s persistent. Leading him to kidnap you in the name of ‘talking things out’. Which, also, leads to him finding out the truth.

At first, he stared at you: a small ‘what?’ whispering out before his blue eyes going deeper in the waves, abruptly asking when it happened; bringing you into a bear hug as he promises he’ll take care of it and you.

The next day, Johnny is acting too excited and calmly — making you the biggest plate of breakfast, ensuring he doesn’t want any as he’s going to run some important errands for the team.

You don’t think of it, but something nitpicks your skin. You go on the day, doing chores and finally ending the night into a foamy, bubbly hot bath; alongside with your headphones and garlic bread. Though, you didn’t see Johnny coming in, wiping his face with a white towel, which is smeared with blood.

He jumps in, surprising you with a sexy gift, he says it’s deserved. And you directly ignore the stained blood; a naive thought coming in. Johnny promises over his life, that he’ll protect you — regardless of what happens, he loves you.

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

Marriage was something he didn’t know he could have – sure, he’s thought of it. But the preparation was longing, the tiredness of needing to see your reaction to the perfect bought ring made him smile cheekily. He wanted this to be perfect, just like you.

The ring he’d picked out was simple, but something you’d admire. It’s a thick, multiplied silver ring accompanied by a raw sapphire diamond, smaller stones beside the middle one. He made sure it’s a bit tight, only enough, so you can never take it off.

Once finding a romantic spot, breaking down to one knee with a flustered smile; the famous words of romantic promises being spilled out. But the moment you rejected him, it was all very awkward. Gaz, is heartbroken, but is overplaying his heartbreak; ensuring you that it’s fine whilst keeping a fake smile on.

Ensuring he’s okay, the outside seems fine but the inside? He’s calmly planning a plan – bringing you home gagged and locked in his home, forever.

His reaction to finding out why you rejected him, his face, is contorted into anger. An ugly feeling and look. Seconds later, his shoes were on and so was his mask. Just like any lover, he would do anything for you.

He gladly cleans himself up before coming home, his gentle smile and reassuring hug engulfing you. The next few days, he’s hovering and overbearing – his kisses and hugs too tight and rarely off of you.

From now on, he makes sure to keep intact with you – your freedom stripped away even further. He didn’t want you to see the TV talking about the cruel murder case that involved with all types of issues.

—

Alejandro “Colonel” Vargas:

He’s the most optimistic about marriage — he loves you. Has dreamed of it ever since he met you. The scenario’s coming in like ocean waves are peaceful to him; the big and special photos of you and him dancing at the ceremony, dancing at the picked song for the wedding makes his heart full.

He makes sure to take a long amount of time picking out the ring, something special. He decides to pick a glamorous, cubic-zirconia Heart. Made out of silver-copper, the gem is iridescent opal and shaped like a heart. Much like Gaz, he made sure the band had thorns — a promise of never taking it off.

Alejandro takes the planning seriously. He makes sure to pick a beautiful area, taking you out to an expensive dinner beforehand, before getting on his knee; his gentle smile and lovely eyes so wide. But, when you said no, his smile and excitement died down.

His face says it all: intense and scary. He’s mad, and immediately confronting you with a heartbroken look; Alejandro is asking why, why did you deny me? Don’t you love me? Did I do something?

This ends up with him remotely kidnapping you. But, when you wake up, he promises to take care of you — which ends up with him finding out the reason you rejected him in the first place.

Ultimately, his reaction is anger. His eyes widen, and his eyebrows furrowed; he asks you clues, giving him ideas on who it is. And when you did, he’s leaving — grabbing his boots, gear, and a promise of being back as soon as he can; a mission needs to be finished.

Alejandro comes back a few days later, arms filled with expensive gifts. His smile is welcoming, his eyes filled with love, and a bunch of kisses delivered with specialty. His whispers in your ear is a clear sign of perfection, nobody will hurt you.

—

König:

He’s excited. König’s been dreaming of this day, his mind replaying fake scenarios of him holding you after marriage. Your naked and sweaty bodies pressing against one another is the brink of his life.

Getting to the ring was hard. Not only did he want it simple and cute, but overbearing and telling you that he loves you. He picked on a silver ring, the band coppered and the gem a garnet. Beautiful designs imprinted in it.

He picked somewhere quiet, a date secluded for you and him; an area full of beautiful flowers and security, and a land of where he can take off his mask. Furthermore, he’s devastated when you shake your head. König doesn’t understand why you would reject him, and his mind begins stumbling with what he probably could have done better, leading him to have a good few days of snapping and rude behavior.

The kidnapping of you was easy. But finding out why you denied was hard — he was fumming. A pissed-off soldier. Even though he’s boiled, he takes care of you first, ensuring you are safe and loved on, and no he won’t leave. Not tonight. But tomorrow he will. He’ll take care of everything, just like he had in the past.

König makes sure you know he loves you and he isn’t mad. But he is to the enemy. He asks help, from a few friends and the team. He leaves with an excuse, and leaves stained kisses all over your neck; a promise of him coming back.

He called you often, reminding you that he loves you, and he will be home as soon as he can. Work is hard and okay. But, this problem will be fixed as soon as possible.

The minute he comes home, his attitude is more open; he’s clingy, unbearable, and always following you around. He’s never letting you out of his sight, König is your personalized guard dog — a constant reminder of who he is.

—

My Masterlist :)

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sweetercalypso · 8 months

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New Gods ✩ Abby Anderson

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: The first time Abby meets seraphite!reader, she shows her mercy. The second time they meet, reader repays her kindness

Notes: minors dni; fingering and oral (Abby rec.), semi-public sex, afab reader, dom!Abby, mean!Abby, mentions of guns, brief violence, religious references, enemies to lovers

When Abby hears that she’s being put on a patrol headed for the abandoned side of town, she thinks it’s a joke.

Surely this was some form of punishment, or a test of her loyalty to Isaac’s command. Two weeks in an unoccupied base with a batch of new recruits – it has to be a mistake.

It’s not until the transport truck pulls away from the stadium that Abby accepts the reality of the situation, groaning into her hands to hide her indignation.

The only good thing about this patrol, she thinks, is that absolutely nothing can go wrong.

Abby and her entourage of WLF recruits arrive at their assigned base late in the evening, the sun already sinking low behind Seattle’s derelict skyline.

The city is silent beyond the hum of the armored truck rolling to a stop in front of an old office building. Years ago, the area had been a thriving hub of WLF activity, but the threat of Seraphite armies had shifted attention elsewhere, leaving the bases to sit empty and collecting dust.

Abby swallows her complaints as the truck’s engine shuts off, leaving a jarring silence that prompts her fellow gunmen to turn their collective attention towards her.

Her expertise is better suited to combat than to training, and the thought of being in charge of four wide-eyed rookies makes her question the sanity of whoever put this team together.

She briefly explains the patrol assignment before dolling out tasks to each of the recruits, leaving herself the duty of surveying the perimeter.

Early WLF soldiers had cleared most of the infected while the area was still active, and with the lack of excitement in the streets, Abby returns to the base with the verdict that this patrol will be entirely uneventful.

While the others are setting up camp on the second floor – five cots lined against a wall with a radio station by the windows and supply crates littered around the room – Abby keeps herself busy with watching the thick, heavy clouds rolling in the distance.

She imagines what she might be doing if she had been placed on a different patrol and she crosses her arms over her chest with a bitter sigh.

Anything has to be more exciting than this.

–

Abby awakens while the sky is still dark, the remaining light of dusk swallowed by the inky black threat of storm clouds overhead.

Thunder cracks viciously in the air, rumbling the dusty room and promising to crumble the building’s frame already bowing under years of neglect.

The sound of her distress is barely audible over the harsh rain beating against the windows and, for a moment, Abby can’t remember where she is.

Her mouth feels dry, and it takes an effort to slow her labored breaths. She runs a hand over her face, wiping away her momentary confusion before checking that the other patrollers are still asleep, slipping off her cot and stumbling blindly through the darkened room.

Her weapons and her pack are still resting against a nearby crate, exactly where she’d left them. She slips the strap of her backpack between her fingers, hoping that the familiar worn canvas will distract from the deafening thunder crackling in her ears.

She holds her breath and counts the seconds between the streaks of lightning and claps of thunder – a trick her dad had taught her when she was young.

Somewhere between flash and bang, the sound of footsteps overhead catches Abby’s attention. Her head jerks up towards the source of the noise and she quickly forgets about the looming urgency of bad weather.

The door to the stairwell is propped open, and although Abby knows it was left ajar to air out the stuffy office space, she can’t help but imagine something sinister looming beyond the doorway.

She grabs the closest gun and makes her way to the stairs, listening for the sounds of movement overhead.

All the floors had been checked for infected and all the windows had been secured, but Abby still couldn’t shake the thought of someone invading their base in the dead of night.

She treads up the stairs and pushes the door open, only to be met with the sight of a lonely silhouette moving through the darkness. Abby jumps into action just as she’d been taught, heart thumping wildly as she raises her weapon and aims.

“Get on the ground – now!”

She spits out the stern command, harsh but still quiet enough that it barely fills the room. Despite the anger twisting in her chest, she’s rational enough to know better than to alert the other patrollers sleeping downstairs.

From the looks of it, the intruder was here alone, unarmed. It seemed better to deal with the situation on her own than to cause unwarranted panic the first night in to a new assignment.

The sound of her voice must’ve caught you by surprise because you stop dead in your tracks, not even moving to lunge for cover from the stranger gunning you down.

Illuminated by only the sharp flashes of lightning cutting through the shadows, it takes a moment for Abby to piece together the scene before her.

You’re soaked to the bone, cloaked in brown cloth and shivering from the rain clinging to your skin.

At first, she thought you might’ve been a soldier from another patrol, separated from your group and seeking shelter in an expectedly empty outpost. Or maybe you could’ve been a straggler roaming the city in search of supplies left behind by its former inhabitants.

But when a crack of lightning catches your features at the right angle, Abby recognizes the mark stretching across your cheek, and realization washes over her.

“Fucking Scars.”

She keeps her gun steady, though her fingers flex against the heavy, steel grip.

With eyes trained diligently on your figure, she closes the distance between the two of you in a few short steps, scowling when she’s close enough to discern the look of confusion on your face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, shoving the muzzle of her gun roughly into your shoulder and spitting out a sharp “answer me”.

Her boot hits the back of your leg and you crumble into the floor with swallowed discontent.

“I’m not- I didn’t know you would be here.” You scramble to explain yourself, chancing a look at Abby standing behind you. She pushes her gun further into your shoulder, silently instructing your gaze back to the floor.

“This building’s supposed to be empty. It says so on the map.”

“You’re spying on our bases?” Her voice rises with every word, no longer concerned with who might hear. “Planning a fucking ambush?”

“No! Nothing like that. I’m not a soldier, I was supposed to collect supplies from the city, but I got caught in the rain.”

She laughs and rolls her shoulders reflexively.

“I don’t care why you’re here – Scars don’t get second chances.”

Thunder rattles the thin-paned windows lining the room. Abby’s heartbeat fills her ears. Prayer tumbles from your lips like the nervous chatter of teeth – uneasy, repetitive, instinctive.

Abby had never given much thought to prayer before, especially not that of a Scar. It’s always the same routine pleading that’ll never be answered. But it doesn’t sound like you’re begging for salvation, it sounds like you’re making peace.

Something about the situation doesn’t seem fair. You’re completely helpless, caught in a trap you couldn’t see laid out in front of you. Your people must’ve known something like this could happen, yet they sent you into the wolves’ den, anyway – a sacrificial lamb led to the slaughter.

A foreign pang of uncertainty resonates through Abby’s chest, and she lowers her gun with a shake of her head.

“Just- just go.”

A beat passes before you look back at Abby in disbelief. You gape blankly at her for a moment before mouthing a small “what?”.

She huffs impatiently and grabs you by the arm, hauling you up from your position on the floor. If anyone came in and found the two of you standing this close, you’d both be dead before you could part.

“Leave. Now. If the others find you here, they won’t be so nice.”

Her eyes flit over your face, searching for confirmation that she was doing the right thing. She expected to find fear etched into your features, maybe gratefulness, or even shock. But she’s met with only curiosity in your wide, unblinking eyes.

She pushes you away and turns to leave before she can change her mind, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

Abby knows what the other patrollers would’ve done if they had found you first. She knows what she would’ve done if the circumstances had been different.

You should be dead – or worse. It hadn’t been that long since she’d assisted in the interrogations that happened to Scars who’d been captured and strung up in cells for the rest of their days.

When Abby thinks about those people now, only one face stares back at her.

–

The next morning, Abby is forced to bite her tongue when someone finds the upstairs window open, raindrops clinging to the wood frame serving as the only evidence of your intrusion.

She blames it on one of the other patrollers, suggesting that they didn’t do a thorough enough sweep the night before, but not everyone is convinced.

They search the building anyway but come up empty-handed, and the situation is defused and entirely forgotten by midday.

For the remainder of their two-week patrol, Abby wonders if you had really been there at all, or if you were a product of some underlying guilt she had stored in the back of her mind. She would stay up through night and listen for the sound of footsteps, not sure if she should feel relief or disappointment when the mornings arrived without any sign of you.

When the familiar rumble of the armored truck rolls in to collect Abby and the recruits, she returns to the stadium and does her best to keep you off her mind.

She volunteers for extra shifts; she monitors the communications radio; she listens to stories of other patrollers and wonders if they’re describing you in their encounters with unnamed and faceless Scars.

When she hears about another group headed for the abandoned side of the city, she jumps at the opportunity to join their patrol. Anything for some peace of mind, she tells herself.

They’re dropped off in front of a different building, a couple blocks west of where her last patrol had been located. Abby’s chest deflates when she realizes the absurdity of her desire to find you again.

It’d been weeks since she’d let you go, and surely you’d learned your lesson about venturing near WLF bases alone. Maybe you hadn’t, and someone else had found you before Abby had the chance.

She shivers at the thought and moves to catch up with the rest of her team, abandoning her concern for something more practical.

She offers to check the upper floors while the others bring in supplies, and no one objects to avoiding the endless flights of stairs and dusty rooms waiting for her.

Four floors up, Abby stops to inspect a window that had been broken some time ago. Shards of glass and a handful of dead leaves lay at her feet, and when stoops down to look for anything out of the ordinary, the door to the stairwell creaks shut behind her.

“It’s you.”

Her head whips around at the sound of your voice, familiar but different now that you’re no longer at her will.

From where she stands, Abby can see the way your chest rises and falls with anticipation, the way your hands twist at your sides. She waits for you to speak again, but the room falls silent.

“What’re you doing here?” she hisses, praying that the others were too busy to come check on her progress.

“I heard the truck – I knew you were coming.”

Abby frowns and moves a step closer. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know how many of those soldiers downstairs would like to get their hands on you?”

You cock your head to the side, as if you didn’t understand.

“You saved my life once already. I wouldn’t have come if I thought I’d be in danger.”

She scoffs at the presumption that she would betray her people again, but a small voice reminds her that’s exactly what she’d planned to do.

She moves past you to leave but you stop her with a hand laid over her arm. Abby’s jaw tenses at the contact, but when her resentful gaze flickers up to meet yours, she’s met with the same unabashed interest you’d worn before.

“I owe you, wolf. The Prophet commands us to repay those who show mercy.”

You pause before continuing. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

Abby takes a moment to consider. What does she want?

She wants your leader’s head at her feet; she wants to make her friends proud; she wants to understand why she had let you go that night in the storm.

Her eyes trail down to your lips, to the mottled scar etched into your cheek. She wonders what you’d look like without its crooked ridges marring your skin. She wonders how it would feel under her hands.

It catches you both off guard when her parted lips press against yours, teeth clacking together from the fervency of her kiss.

Her hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, though she’s not sure if she wants to pull you closer or push you away. She grunts into your mouth and slides her other hand around your waist. An unfamiliar heat licks at the base of your spine.

“I want you to thank me for letting you go,” she declares.

Seraphite leaders had spoken on end about the corrupt morals of ‘new world’ adherents, but this was not the danger you’d learned to fear. Abby was unique, addicting, and you wanted more.

You fall to your knees at her feet, almost a mirror image of the night you’d met. This time, however, you’re the one in control.

She hums and rubs the pad of her thumb over her swollen bottom lip, still wet with your spit. “That’s a good start.”

Nimble fingers work open the button of her jeans, shimmying the dark denim down her toned, freckled thighs. Her black boxers follow suit, revealing a smattering of blonde hair trailing down from her naval.

Your hands smooth over her heated skin, palming at her hips in an attempt to pull her closer. She concedes and shuffles forward until her cunt presses to your awaiting mouth and your tongue dips out to taste her.

It’s like nothing either of you have experienced – the guilt of betraying your own people, the trust that comes from such inconceivable circumstances. It’s all too much to comprehend, so you choose to ignore it for the time being.

Abby’s head tips back with a sigh, little breaths and chirps of pleasure pushed from her lungs as your tongue flattens over her clit.

It almost looks like you’re praying, Abby decides. Kneeling in front of your altar, eyes screwed shut, searching for a sign from some divine being. She cards her fingers through your hair and tugs at the roots, pulling you impossibly closer.

It’s messy, greedy, downright sinful the way you press your mouth to her. Slick coats your chin and your cheeks, glistening in the dim light streaming through the windows.

You’re spurred on by the way she tilts her hips, the wet squelch of her cunt against your mouth. Her thighs flex against the sides of your face, smothering your cheeks in her arousal.

“Ah- just like that.”

In addition to your tongue roaming everywhere you can reach, your thumb comes up to rub firm circles against her clit. After a moment, you switch positions, dragging your fingers through her slick and dipping two digits inside her.

She gasps at the intrusion and bucks her hips harshly, urging you to move faster. Your fingers curl inside her, driving into that gummy spot at the top of her walls while you suction her clit into your mouth.

“Fuck,” she pants, grinding down on your mouth. “M’gonna come.”

It’s not long before she’s shuddering through her release, choking back a poorly suppressed moan while she fights to keep her eyes open. You continue to work over her mound until she releases your hair from her grip and takes half a step back on shaky legs.

Remembering her earlier request for gratitude, you lean back on your heels and lick the remnants of her slick from your lips.

“Thank you, wolf.”

She looks down as if she’d only just remembered you were there and her eyes sparkle with renewed interest. A lazy smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“You gonna stay so I can return the favor?”

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby x reader #abby tlou #the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #tlou #enemies to lovers #wlw smut

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zialltops · 3 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

h&h masterlist

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

i: Oklahoma Smokeshow

ii: Northern Attitude

iii: Blue

iv: Shake The Frost

v: On My Way To You

vi: If She Wants A Cowboy

vii: You Don’t Want That Smoke

Viii: What Was I Thinkin’

ix: You’re My Texas

AO3 | Spotify Playlist

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #cowboy!joel #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel the last of us #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #dilf!joel

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tosahobi-if · 5 months

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GAME OUT NOW

Misfortune begets misfortune; evil will prey upon itself. Just as how the fox cannot live without the rabbit, the predator must understand what rises will fall.

Long before you were born, the Great Calamity, a calculated effort by Magyo cultists nearly wiped out the entirety of the Jungpa sects. If not for the noble sacrifice of the peerless Sword Saint of the Mount Hua Sect: the Divine Blade, Yeo Jinhu, demonic forces would have rent the heavens and the earth asunder.

Despite his triumph, nothing would ever be the same – the losses were staggering, the task of rebuilding the sects to their former glory seemed to prove an insurmountable challenge. Yet nearly two decades after his death, peace returned to the land once more.

After the death of your parents, you lead an ordinary, if not monotonous, life as the playmate of the spoiled young master of the Mount Hua Sect. However, all is not what it seems. Following the mysterious arrival of an amnesiac with strange abilities, whispers of a plot brewing in the shadows start to surface, and the world as you know it begins to fall apart around your feet.

Suddenly confronted with the uncertainty of the future, you must unravel the tragedy of what truly conspired all those years ago before you risk losing all you hold dear.

tosahobi (18+) is a muhyeop choose-your-own adventure game centered around elements of korean folklore and taoism in a tale of family, grief, and heritage.

play as a customizable main character: choose their physical appearance, gender, pronouns, sexuality, and more.

explore different relationships: from platonic to romantic to familial, build a variety of relationships with the cast (and hopefully make more friends than you do enemies.)

choose from different skill sets: pick between medicine, weaponry, tactics, and hand-to-hand combat. each field comes with its own advantages and disadvantages that affect multiple scenarios as the story progresses.

choice-driven story: with several routes and (many) choices, fail or succeed and find your way to an ending (whether it be happy or not.)

something is incredibly wrong: can you feel it too?

THE YOUNG MASTER

Yeo Jinwol of the Mount Hua Sect, is the youngest son of the sect leader. Contrary to his charming public demeanor, he has a childish side and can be extraordinarily stubborn. Having grown up in the shadow of his elder brothers he is fiercely protective of those he considers precious to him and struggles to measure up to the expectations placed on his shoulders. Assigned his playmate at a young age, whether you consider it fortuitous or not the two of you have been stuck together for years.

THE ENIGMA

Yul is your sajae, a disciple under the same master as you. Despite their amnesia, they're preternaturally talented at whatever they set their mind to. With strange yet unexplainable abilities that seem to stretch far beyond the scope of their powers, their missing memories may be the key to unlocking the answers you seek. Reclusive yet dedicated you'd almost think they were far, far older than their age if not for their intense sweet tooth and their tendency to follow you around like a very clingy second shadow.

THE PRODIGY

Baek Iseul, the Frozen Blade, is the rising star Emei Sect and has long been hailed as the next Sword Saint. Contrary to her cheerful personality you've never met anyone with a sharper gaze before. Hailing from obscurity, her power rivals even those who have trained for years and years, and has amassed an ever-growing collection of heroic feats under her belt. Popular and well-liked with a mischievous streak, you're really not sure why someone with such a promising future has taken a liking to you.

???

if to transcend means to leave the world behind, bind me to the soil so even long after my death, long after my body has turned to dust, i can find you once more.

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #if game #twine game #if wip #introduction post #if: intro #tosahobi-if

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trikaranos · 5 months

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TRIKARANOS: THE PROLOGUE

TRIKARANOS is a dramatized narrative based on ancient events following Crassus (and Pompey and Caesar) through the years 87-48 BCE. Intended for an adult audience.

⭐ Trikaranos will always be free to read (in the near future, you’ll have the option to support this comic & my ability to make it through Patreon!)

⭐ There is no set update schedule (chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them)

⭐ alternative places to read it (coming soon!)

CREDITS all additional art used are in the Public Domain [as per the Met's Open Access policy]

🍊 The Abduction of the Sabine Women, Nicolas Poussin 🍊 Obverse, a Terracotta neck-amphora depicting Aeneas rescuing his father, Anchises, during the fall of Troy. [description taken from the Met] 🍊 compositional study for The Lictors Bringing Brutus the Bodies of his Sons, Jacques Louis David 🍊The Battle of Vercellae, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo 🍊 The Capture of Carthage, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo

UNDER THE CUT creator's commentary, ancient citations, whatever else seems relevant. ideally, this is optional! you shouldn't need the citations for it to make sense as it unfolds since it's a comic and a story first and foremost, but it's here if you're curious and want to see where the inspiration is coming from!

so! there are a couple of accounts about the return of Marius and Cinna, I've chosen Appian's account for the primary source of inspiration, although I've cut the cast down to it's barest essentials because I want the claustrophobia of violence to really eat itself.

Cinna now began to despise his enemies and drew near to the wall, halting out of range, and encamped. Octavius and his party were undecided and fearful, and hesitated to attack him on account of the desertions and the negotiations. The Senate was greatly perplexed and considered it a dreadful thing to depose Lucius Merula, the priest of Jupiter, who had been chosen consul in place of Cinna, and who had done nothing wrong in his office. Yet on account of the impending danger it reluctantly sent envoys to Cinna again, and this time as consul. They no longer expected favourable terms, so they only asked that Cinna should swear to them that he would abstain from bloodshed. He refused to take the oath, but he promised nevertheless that he would not willingly be the cause of anybody's death. He directed, however, that Octavius, who had gone round and entered the city by another gate, should keep away from the forum lest anything should befall him against his own will. This answer he delivered to the envoys from a high platform in his character as consul. Marius stood in silence beside the curule chair, but showed by the asperity of his countenance the slaughter he contemplated. When the Senate had accepted these terms and had invited Cinna and Marius to enter (for it was understood that, while it was Cinna's name which appeared, the moving spirit was Marius), the latter said with a scornful smile that it was not lawful for men banished to enter. Forthwith the tribunes voted to repeal the decree of banishment against him and all the others who were expelled under the consulship of Sulla.

Accordingly Cinna and Marius entered the city and everybody received them with fear. Straightway they began to plunder without hindrance all the goods of those who were supposed to be of the opposite party. Cinna and Marius had sworn to Octavius, and the augurs and soothsayers had predicted, that he would suffer no harm, yet his friends advised him to fly. He replied that he would never desert the city while he was consul. So he withdrew from the forum to the Janiculum with the nobility and what was left of his army, where he occupied the curule chair and wore the robes of office, attended as consul by lictors. Here he was attacked by Censorinus with a body of horse, and again his friends and the soldiers who stood by him urged him to fly and brought him his horse, but he disdained even to arise, and awaited death. Censorinus cut off his head and carried it to Cinna, and it was suspended in the forum in front of the rostra, the first head of a consul that was so exposed. After him the heads of others who were slain were suspended there; and this shocking custom, which began with Octavius, was not discontinued, but was handed down to subsequent massacres.

Appian, Civil Wars I, 70-71 (trans. Horace White)

Plutarch's biography of Marius also recounts the same event, but I was leaning more on Appian for this.

ALSO! the choice to use Giovanni Battista Tiepolo's painting The Capture of Carthage as a backdrop to Octavius: it's because Cinna and Octavius were co consuls for a minute and Rome and Carthage are twin cities (instar Carthaginis urbem babyyy), and I do love the doubling/twin-ification of a thing. which is what co consuls are to me. we're overlapping the themes, in addition to the overlapping of violence, which is what all iterations of Rome are founded on.

Textual Monuments: Reconstructing Carthage in Augustan Literary Culture, Nora Goldschmidt

the chapter cover is my own illustration of an Etruscan kantharos because Crassus may or may not have had some kind of Etruscan heritage. YMMV but for me it's fun to think about

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward (& the citation!)

#trikaranos the komik

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classsymemes · 2 years

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a comprehensive list of scenarios

feel free to combine multiple prompts or add “ + reverse ” to switch roles ! for reference, the one sending in the prompt is the one committing the action.

1. GUEST : for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. 2. STORM : for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm. 3. MEDIC : for one muse to show up at the other’s doorstep injured. 4. SURPRISE : for one muse to come home and find the other already inside. 5. TRIP : for both muses to road trip or travel together. 6. BABYSIT : for one muse to help the other home while they’re drunk. 7. INSOMNIA : for one muse to find the other still awake at 3am. 8. AMBUSH : for both characters to come under attack by the same enemy. 9. DANCE : for one muse to ask the other to dance at a party. 10. STRANDED : for one muse to help the other who’s stranded on the road. 11. SERVICE : for one muse to cover the cost of something for the other. 12. SAFEGUARD : for one muse to save the other from being hit by a vehicle or from some other life-threatening event. 13. DAZE : for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them. 14. STOWAWAY : for one muse to find the other hiding on the same ship. 15. TAXI : for both muses to share the same taxi ride. 16. MAKEOVER : for one muse to help the other with a new outfit or hairstyle. 17. LIFEGUARD : for one muse to rescue the other from drowning. 18. DISASTER : for both muses to work together to escape a fire, flood, or other disaster. 19. TRANSIT : for one muse to sit next to the other on a public transport. 20. SPRAIN : for one muse to carry the other after spraining their ankle. 21. EMPLOY : for one muse to be hired as the other’s bodyguard, tutor, assistant, etc. 22. QUEST : for one muse to help the other with a task in exchange for compensation. 23. SOOTHE : for one muse to calm the other during a panic attack. 24. RECOVER : for one muse to return the other’s lost belonging. 25. UMBRELLA : for one muse to share their umbrella with the other on a rainy day. 26. HEAL : for one muse to nurse the other back to health from a sickness or injury. 27. NIGHTMARE : for one muse to comfort the other after a nightmare. 28. REUNION : for one muse to run into the other again after a long time. 29. PRIZE : for one muse to win the other a prize at a carnival. 30. NUDE : for one muse to walk in on the other while they’re changing. 31. BED : for both muses to wake in the same bed, naked or fully clothed. 32. TRAIL : for one muse to notice the other has been following them. 33. EVADE : for one muse to pull the other into an alleyway to escape their pursuer. 34. THIEF : for one muse to confront the other after having something stolen by them. 35. CAUGHT : for one muse to walk in on the other singing / dancing. 36. FESTIVE : for both muses to decorate for a special occasion. 37. PRESENT : for one muse to give the other a (birthday) gift. 38. WEARY : for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other. 39. CAPTIVE : for one muse to hold the other against their will. 40. SNAP : for one muse to yell at or push the other out of frustration. 41. SLEEPOVER : for one muse to stay the night at the other’s place. 42. TRESPASS : for one muse to trespass on the other’s property. 43. BREAK-IN : for one muse to discover the other robbing their place. 44. MERCY : for both muses to come across an injured animal. 45. UNKNOWN : for both muses to wake and find themselves in a strange place. 46. ACCOMPLICE : for one muse to assist the other at the scene of a crime. 47. ASTRAY : for both muses to take a detour and lose their way. 48. RELAX : for both muses to share a hot tub or hot spring. 49. MUSE : for one muse to model for the other's art project. 50. ACCOMPANY : for one muse to give the other an extra ticket to an event. 51. SALVAGE : for one muse to retrieve the other's belongings from a thief. 52. MEAL : for both muses to prepare and share a meal together. 53. CEMETERY : for one muse to find the other at a gravestone. 54. REFUGE : for one muse to shelter the other from enemies. 55. ARRANGED : for both muses to date or marry out of convenience. 56. FAVOR : for one muse to owe the other a favor. 57. VACATION : for both muses to book the same hotel on vacation. 58. DEFEND : for one muse to save the other from one or multiple assailants. 59. CATCH : for one muse to return the other's pet that escaped. 60. RESTRICTED : for both muses to sneak into someplace they're not supposed to be.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask memes #inbox memes #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts

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adonis-koo · 4 months

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wicked • 19

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 13k

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tags: vaginal fingering, tiddy sucking (jk is definitely a boobs man), semi public sex??, oral (f), so many petnames, dom!kook, brief masturbation (m), multiple orgasms, size kink, multiple positions, cowgirl, creampies, slight somnophilia? (they keep having sex when they're both extremely exhausted), spooning turned to doggy, some very filthy talk, corruption kink, semi degradation kink, the word seed is used once and I actually hate it, some sweet, sweet aftercare, pillow talk, grinding, cumplay, brief handjob (m), edging, cockwarming, they're so in love your honor

Note: people will be shocked at how fast this update has come out and honestly ?? so am I, but tbf half of it is smut so...iykyk ALSO if you haven't checked out the playlist for wicked, you totally should!!

After the first snowfall, winter had come rolling in with no sign of stopping and just as Jungkook had once said, Penumbra was now buried in snow.

There was something so captivating about the snow, its crisp frosty delicate nature, how despite the sun being covered in clouds, the snow reflected off the light and made everything so much brighter.

The land was so desolate and yet so full at the same time, it left a deep yearning in you for the warmth, but in an oddly fulfilling way, it let you rest deeper at night, taking in the great vastness of the land and its minimalism.

The morning had been busy just as each morning before had been so, Yule was only a week away and the court had many aristocrats staying at the castle making merry. It was such a celebratory time and yet you still felt like a ghost better left in the past.

Your days were not all horrible, but the constant numbness never fully went away, at one time you had wanted to go to Yule in Kimhae to reunite with your parents, but the idea of leaving somehow filled you with as much anxiety as staying.

“Well? What’s on your mind?” Jungkook finally spoke, not looking up from his work book, making sure the last of his bill signs, contracts carefully written out and correspondence dealt with so he wouldn’t be behind on his work when you both made your return.

You had been admittedly antsy, tidying up your bedroom, packing what few trinkets you thought you might want during the nights of your journey, fiddling with your own work and where to put what.

You simply couldn’t sit still.

You didn’t reply for a long moment causing Jungkook to look up from his desk, blue eyes appearing from those dark thick locks of hair.

Sighing you shifted as you set your book against the bed, “…You’ll be mad at me.”

“Well you don’t know until you tell me.” Jungkook didn’t seem worried.

You glanced away once more as Jungkook stood up, rounding his desk to walk over to you, “…What if I was having second thoughts…About going to Kimhae?”

Jungkook curved a brow, “The morning we depart for our trip?”

“Don’t say it like that!” You pouted with an usher.

“Is it really the trip? Or is it something else?” Jungkook replied, brushing off your pout.

Your pout however only furthered because you didn’t have an answer, “I don’t know…I just…this is the first time we’ll be making a public appearance outside of Penumbra since our wedding.”

“And what about it?” Jungkook shifted, crossing his arms, still not understanding what your problem was and truth be told you wish you had a better answer for him.

“Does that not make you anxious? It makes me incredibly anxious.” You frowned, wringing your hands together, you were anxious about everything truthfully, but the idea of making your first appearance in nearly a year, well…You didn’t know what to expect.

But then again, Penumbra had prepared you for pretty much everything at this point, there weren't too many boxes left to check off on life events at this point.

“Why would I be?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, “I’ve nothing to hide nor prove to anyone…If you’re anxious simply because, then it’s understandable,” Jungkook reached out to you, brushing his palm over your cheek before it crept down to your neck, “A lot has happened, I think it’s only natural. But I also know you’ve been looking forward to seeing your parents for the majority of your stay here, it would be imprudent of me to let you cancel our trip at the last minute.”

Your lips quivered a little, “Even if I’m terrified? What if something happens?”

Jungkook’s lips curled into a little smile, his fingers curling around your neck, not squeezing, but in a loving hold you had grown so acquainted too, “Then I will be there to stop it from happening,” Jungkook’s forehead pressed down against yours, “I know you’ll regret not going more then if you do.”

Your eyes fluttered shut before you leaned over to bury your face into the crook of his neck, Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you tight as you murmured, “I hope you’re right.” curling your arms around his waist as you let yourself become engulfed in his warmth and letting it swallow all of your consuming thoughts.

It stayed like this for a long minute before Jungkook slowly pulled away, looking down at you as he spoke, “I have something I wanted to give you.”

You pulled away from him more to get a better look at him, tilting your head in curiosity, “A gift…?”

Jungkook snorted, “Something like that. I wasn’t sure if it would be finished in time, but Jimin managed to get it to me last night.” He let go of you before walking over to the bed, leaning down as he pulled down out from underneath.

You tilted your head at the thick cloth cover as Jungkook stood up, holding it out to you. It was long and thin but held a considerable weight to it, not too heavy, but just enough to let you know it was of incredible quality.

He nodded at you as a gesture to pull whatever was inside out, opening the draw strings. The first thing you saw was the bright silver crest of a pommel, pulling it out further was a soft leather hand and pulling it all the way out revealed a shortsword around twenty three inches.

You couldn’t help but let your lips part at just how beautiful it was though, the metal was reflective and the detailing along the fuller, the blade was double edged and as your eyes traveled back to the handle you noticed a sort of…language? Written down the grip.

“It’s the first of its kind,” Jungkook finally spoke, “Noxtria melted with Quicksilver for a lightweight balanced sword but sharp enough to cut through thick metal. Godslayer is it’s name.”

“Godslayer?” You looked up at him.

“The idea behind this blade was that it would be lighter than air, but have the strength to kill a god. I couldn’t think of a better person to hold the first blade of its kind than my own wife. We’ve been working on your swordsmanship for a long time now and I think it’s time you carry your own sword.” Jungkook nodded, a sort of pride in his eyes as he watched you weigh it, giving it a whirl in your hand.

The training you had done had definitely made you physically stronger, as while the blade had weight, it wasn’t taxing to hold, “I want you to never feel defenseless by my side, we’re partners and equals and while I hope it never again comes to you needing to use this, I want you to have it if the occasion were to ever arise.”

You were speechless as you stared at the blade, a reflection of yourself in its metal staring back at you, lowering it you whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.”

A small smile pulled on his lips, “Anything for my little sun.” His fingers traced down your cheek, “The case for it is still in the cover, here I’ll help you with putting on the harness.”

Jungkook took the cloth covering off it to reveal the heavy black sheath and the harness that it attached too, Jungkook had carefully pulled it around your hip, adjusting it until it was snug against your skin, it felt weird having such a thing attached to your body now.

But there was something oddly…safe about it, as Jungkook said, this was a safety measure and it made you feel as such, you could only hope you would never have to take another soul but….Your fingers unconsciously lifted, rubbing over the spot on your chest, now scarred from where Di Jin had attempted to kill you.

Jungkook as if knowing what you were thinking tenderly grabbed your hand pulling it away, “It’s difficult to see it now but…” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, “I think…if I could go back and change things I would, in a heartbeat. But I do think it happened for a reason.”

Your lips trembled softly, “How could killing someone happen for a reason?”

“It made a spectacle for one,” Jungkook replied, a certain soft note in his voice was his hand found its way back to your neck, “Those who doubted your ability to hold your own in the court will never question it again. Your words have always had bite, but now you have proof behind them.”

You shook your head, “I don’t see eye to eye with you on this Jungkook.”

“I know you don’t,” Jungkook replied, his thumb soothingly rubbing into your skin, “And I wouldn’t expect anything less, but your respect in the court is much more now than it ever was before. Not only this but…”

Jungkook paused for a long moment gathering his thoughts, “Knowing you have the capability to defend yourself…there will be times when we will have no choice but to be apart,” He sighed, “I will eventually have to lead projects that take me away from Penumbra, knowing you have the means to take care of yourself puts me at ease.”

“I don’t want you to be apart from me.” You mumbled, anxiety at the thought immediately quelling.

Jungkook let out an amused breath, “That’s not something to worry about now, one thing at a time. If you have the rest of your things settled, we should head down, the sooner we get on the road the sooner we’ll arrive, and the sooner you’ll feel better.”

“...I suppose.” You mumbled, but Jungkook was not feeding into your pouty expression, no matter how much it was his weakness, he grabbed your thick cloak which had laid abandoned on the bed, wrapping it over your shoulders as he buckled it up, grabbing his own to carry as he held out his arm for you.

Letting him guide you down you ignored the stares of a group of court ladies staring you down, perhaps in wariness, perhaps because the court had easily taken notice of how close you and Jungkook had become in the last few weeks.

The consummation of your marriage hadn’t actually changed anything, but Jungkook’s confession of love had really done a number on you both, and every time those sweet words left his lips you had the intention of saying it back.

And yet every time it felt like the word got stuck in your throat unable to escape, perhaps it was because you were still scared, still in disbelief that Jungkook loved you, but all of his actions, his words, even the way he looked at you, it all screamed love.

Being met with snow on the ground, crunching beneath your feet you let out a breath that you could visibly see, a sensation you still weren’t quite used to, it was freezing cold and the journey would be very long.

Jungkook had spared no expense to keep you wrapped in very thick layers in hopes that it would keep you warm, but it seemed no matter the amount, you were always cold.

“Wheein is doing her last rounds of gathering items, she should be out shortly,” Taehyun called out, finishing fixing up your horse’s saddle, Jungkook walked up with you before helping you on and making sure you were situated before saddling his own horse.

“Snow isn’t too deep yet, we should make a timely arrival,” Yoongi called out, trotting on his own horse up the path ahead before stopping next to Jungkook, “If we make it with not much snowfall, it should only take four days.”

Your lip curled a little at the estimate, you knew Kimhae was further away then Eunoia, but you had been used to only a day’s travel when you were in Eunoia, they lived further West then Eunoia and a little further south.

The climate in the West however made it incredibly dry, the further you traveled the less snow there would be, hopefully at least.

Once Wheein had finished her last round of gathering any last minute packing she had come out with a few guards help and finished loading the pack horses and then mounted her own. It wasn't too big of an entourage of servants, but you had two of Yoongi’s men, himself and of course your two personal servants to attend you both.

You were nervous for many reasons, showing your face to the outside world, you weren’t sure what reaction you would gain, knowing how the truth of Penumbra had been twisted beyond recognition, you could distinctly remember all the dread you had for two years of being engaged to Jungkook.

Words that he had abused women in many ways, that he starved all of his servants and that he’d beat them if they disobeyed, rumors swirling that he already had multiple wives and you would be another trophy in his collection, some rumors even going as far as to say he had his dead enemies taken to the castle so he could bath in their blood.

The list went on and on and every single one was just a rumor, nothing more than foolish lies spread to cause more fear, Jungkook was not a single thing he had ever been stated as, wicked least of all.

But you were now nervous because you had seen both sides, the truth and lies both, and you couldn’t help but wonder what rumors had escaped Penumbra about you? Dread filled you once more, what twisted way could the world turn your murder of Di Jin even worse?

That you feasted on his corpse?

You could briefly taste the raw iron in your mouth that had you holding back a gag, Jungkook’s sharp gaze that had been looking ahead immediately on you, “What’s wrong?”

You held your hand on your mouth trying desperately hard to not let the memory suck you back into the past, flashes of blood in your mind, cartilage mixed with skin, the raw smell of blood, “Water, can I have some water.” You forced the words out.

Jungkook wordlessly pulled the water satchel from the side of his saddle, handing it to you, “You’re thinking.”

You took a large swallow and slowly the faint taste faded back into the nothingness it came from, you shook your head handing it back to him, “I’m trying not too.”

“You’re not doing a good job of it,” Jungkook replied, making you give him a look, he laughed a little though you spot the concern in his eyes, “Would talking about it make you feel better?”

You sighed as you shook your head, “I think i’d rather talk about something else,” Lingering on your thoughts would only serve to possibly bring memories even more vivid back, “You’ve been to Kimhae right Jungkook?”

Jungkook guided his horse a little closer to yours so you’d be able to converse better, “It’s been a long time. We visited when they hosted the War Council. I was…maybe seventeen? This was just in the beginning of negotiating,” Jungkook hummed as he thought about it, “Kimhae was dull in my opinion, they lacked conviction and were very obvious in the fact that they didn’t respect Penumbra or the Jeon name.”

You listened to him before you let out a laugh gaining his attention, “I remember this quite well, I was visiting Seokjin at the time. I remember spotting you and your father arriving out my window but you were too far for me to get a good look. I remember him complaining though. Telling me you had this haughty look about you, acting as if you were better than him.”

Jungkook scoffed, “I was better than him. I am still better than him. If you were present at the time though…Why had I not seen you?” He looked a bit confused, as obviously women weren’t allowed in the War Room but that didn’t mean they were prohibited anywhere else, he had stayed a full fortnite at Kimhae that trip and not once had he seen you.

“I made myself unknown on purpose,” You replied, a small frown tugging on your lips, “It was at Seokjin’s insistence of course, he didn’t want you near me with the potential to ‘corrupt me’, as he said.”

“Corrupt you?” Jungkook scoffed, almost offended, “If we had met properly before our engagement, I feel we could’ve been cordial. Come to think of it I do remember talk of the Eunoian Princess, being in court,” Jungkook’s gaze became pensive as his brows pinched together, “I remember Seokjin gloating about how the fairest princess warmed his bed at night and that he loved nothing more then his name screamed in pleasure.”

You blinked multiple times before your gaze shot to Jungkook, “This was in reference to me?”

You had known Jungkook long enough now to tell he was absolutely wrought with anger at just the idea, his knuckles tight on the reigns of his horse as he stared ahead, “Mhm. I once told you that we saw him differently, that’s one of the many reasons why. He loved to peacock around gloating about sleeping with you.”

“Sleeping with me!?” Your mouth parted in somewhat disbelief, “We…” You couldn’t help but let out a scoffed laugh, he had been pressuring you for some time, but you never realized just how desperate he was to go out of his way to lie to other men that you both had slept with one another in such a way.

And then the embarrassment began to flood in, was this why so many men in his court assumed you were loose, or that you were an easy woman?

“Well I can promise you he was nothing more than a liar,” You let out another laugh as you shook your head, “Screaming his name in pleasure…The only name that was ushered was my own and even then that was on a lucky day.”

“Your name!?” Jungkook sucked in a harsh breath of air.

You paused, suddenly realizing what you had just said, and then looking around, there was a good distance between Yoongi up ahead with his fellow guards and Wheein and Taehyun were conversing further behind, Fenrir having walked alongside you awhile now.

“So Seokjin has gotten to experience that sort of intimacy from you.” Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as if this was the worst news he could ever receive.

“It’s not…” You sighed, trying to find the right words, you had never really planned on mentioning what little intimacy you shared with Seokjin, as it wasn’t relevant to your current relationship and truthfully, there wasn’t much to talk about, “I’ve…When we first started to explore an intimate relationship together, you remember me being frightened by it, yes?”

Jungkook tilted his head, a little confused as to where this was going but nodded regardless.

“The same could be said for back then- especially back then,” You explained as you lowered your voice a little, “I was nervous to lose my virginity, Seokjin already didn’t like my traditional Eunoian attire, but even moreso it had him acting out, trying to pressure me into giving myself to him. But I could never commit to it. The idea of him leaving me after I gave it too him made me too anxious…And..”

You sighed as you glanced down at the snowy earth, “I hated feeling like nothing more than a sexual fantasy for him. Looking back, it feels as if that was all I ever provided, some sort of exotic fantasy that he could escape to in Eunoia, never truly a person, a soul, just something to make him aroused and fulfilled. And so to keep him satiated but also withhold my own boundary, I offered to pleasure him,” You pressed your lips together, your nose wrinkling, “It wasn’t very often, nor was it very pleasant but well…It kept things from escalating beyond my control.”

Jungkook’s jaw only clenched, “How different things would’ve been if we had met that week. Perhaps you could have been saved from all that trouble.”

“Things happened the way they did though,” You offered a weak smile, “It’s not something I ever think about anymore, after all, it feels so long ago despite being so recent. And I’m very content now.”

You reached out to grab his hand as your smile brightened, “I’m happy I saved myself for the right person. I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else.”

This seemed to soothe Jungkook in the right way, “Well when you say it like that it makes me think you’ll want extra help to keep warm tonight.”

“Jungkook!” You smacked his shoulder, “What an indecent thing to suggest, in a tent? In the middle of a journey?”

Jungkook chuckled as he gripped his reins in contentment, “No better time than the present princess.”

You only shook your head, the hours seemed to go quick as you and Jungkook had talked about this and that, and then a content silence took over as the sky darkened and Yoongi had begun to look for a suitable spot to make camp.

They had managed to find a spot off road closer to the woods where the cold wind was blocked and snow wasn’t as deep, clearing off the snow before getting fresh cut wood to get a fire going, setting up tents didn’t take very long.

Soon dinner was cooking over the fire, granted you had already eaten an abundant mix of packed cabbage and vegetables tossed together and despite being tired and hungry Jungkook was still easily fending you off as metal clashed together.

“You’ll need to try harder than that princess,” Jungkook whirled the sword in his hand as you huffed a breath, stretching your aching arms, “If you were to fight an opponent far more skilled than you in battle what would your tactic be?”

“Run?” You raised your brows, Jungkook seemed to enjoy asking hypothetical questions that you were certain would never happen.

“Okay but in this scenario you do, what would you do?” He pressed, giving you a moment to regather yourself.

“Well it depends, if they’re aggressive, which I assume they would be, it’s not difficult to size my lack of experience up in comparison to someone like you, I’d have no choice but to defend until they burn down their energy and then once they tire out I’d make a chance to strike.” You sighed as you lifted your sword back up.

“Yes that would be the logical way to go about it,” Jungkook hummed, “Contextually speaking. But there are other ways, you can use your environment to assist you, you could also have another ally help or use your size to your advantage. Being smaller means being quicker. Again.”

You both tapped swords before sparring once more, Jungkook easily more aggressive this time causing you to back step until you back stepped right into the deeper snow causing you to yelp, whining out at the freezing damp sensation seeping through your dress into your skin.

“That’s not what I meant when I said use the environment.” Jungkook sighed as he rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder.

You managed to step out back onto the shallow end as you whined out, “I am perfectly aware of what you meant! I’m trying! I just can’t seem to get it…” You let out a defeated sigh as a tremor jolted through your body at catching the cold nip of breeze.

Jungkook only shook his head somewhat amused, “How about we rest for the evening and get you close to the fire once more.” His hand curling around your waist as you both walked back to camp, “You shouldn’t have such high expectations of yourself, I’ve been training since I was a child, you’ve come a long way for only training the last six months.”

“Sparring is also different then a real duel or battle,” Yoongi spoke, as he had been watching you both the last hour in amusement, “If you’re already doing this good in a spar, you’ll be able to hold your own perfectly fine in either.”

“This is also true,” Jungkook yawned as he sat down on the large mat, offering a hand to you to help you down, “The adrenaline is different, when it comes to life or death, you fight with more than your all, more than you could ever muster for a spar, even a duel.”

“I just hope it never comes to that.” You sighed with a shiver, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire.

“What matters is that you’ll be ready m’lady.” Wheein offered a kind smile as she continued, “And I agree with his Highness, you’ve improved significantly compared to when you first started, it’s something to take pride in, you’ll only improve with time.”

“The chances are slim but it never hurts to be prepared,” Yoongi chimed in once more, “Dinner is ready.”

The rest of the evening had passed with laughter and fellowship that you found yourself truly enjoying, and at some point you had tried to remember when the last time you had felt this at ease, this…at home?

Even in Eunoia, tragedy had always surrounded you during your youth, uncertainty of the war and the future as a growing lady and plunged into icy fear as a young woman, you wanted to say you had other moments of relaxation.

But you couldn’t think of a single time, except for this moment, you found yourself curling up against Jungkook, yawning as your eyes began to droop and your head resting on his shoulder.

When your eyes opened once more, you were uncertain of how much time had passed other than the indication that everyone else had departed to their tents.

Jungkook had been leaning on one hand, the other wrapped around you as he had stared thoughtfully in the fire before realizing you had awoke, “Are you ready to depart for bed?”

It was a quiet usher that made you nod with another yawn, letting him help you up as you walked over to your shared tent.

Due to the few people in your party, a circle of tents was formed, yours however just a little closer to the fire upon your request and how could you be blamed on a frigid night such as this? Even Fenrir was curled up right next to the fire, paying you both no mind as he continued to rest.

The tent wasn’t extremely spacious, but it gave you enough room to get what you needed done without being on top of one another, “Let’s get you out of this.”

“And into what?” You were more awake now than before, “Did Wheein leave me something?”

Jungkook looked down at you, a sort of boyish look on his face making you pinch him, “Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled softly grabbing your hand away from his bicep, “We have plenty of furs, and i’ll let you sleep on the fireside, it’s making me hot being that close anyways.”

“It’s too cold!” You whined out quietly.

“You really want to sleep like that?” Jungkook was already stripping himself, “I’m burning up personally.”

Your lips parted multiple times at the sight of his chiseled muscles, biceps flexing as he pulled down his pants revealing the taunt thick muscles of his thighs, even more notably his undergarments.

“Come,” Jungkook had a small smirk on his face as if knowing your eyes roamed his body despite how hard you were trying to be discreet, “Let me undress you.”

You let out a discontented noise but it was difficult to say no when he looked like this and he was looking at you like that, shuffling over you sat on your knees in front of him, Jungkook leaned forward peeling off each layer with a sort of lethargy, as if in no big hurry.

Despite the chilled air you could still feel the lick of fire through the thick cloth tent, dropping the last layer down your shoulders you shuddered, a sort of shyness creeping over you as you felt your nipples immediately hardening at being exposed.

Jungkook helped you shuffled out of the last layer, in nothing more than your panties now, “It’s freezing,” You whispered, trying hard to not let yourself feel self conscious at being close to naked in the tinted firelight that your husband could easily see, “If you’re content let’s go to bed.”

“Ah,” Jungkook immediately stopped you, eyes staying on your soft perked tits, “The cold will help keep you healthy.” He had a stupid boyish look on his face again as he leaned in, warm breath fanning along your cheek before he leaned down unable to resist parting his lips to take your left tit into his mouth.

You let out a breath louder than you intended, but the you couldn’t help it, the sharp contrast between the cold air and his warm wet tongue had your body flush with arousal, and clearly you weren’t the only one as your eyes dropped down, a solid print formed showing your husband was also feeling the same.

“Jungkook, it's too cold for this…!” You whined out quietly despite your legs immediately parting for him to sit between as he moaned against your breast, other hand squeezing your left tit as he pinched your hardened bud between his thumb and finger while suckling on the other.

You forced the moan back into your throat.

Jungkook finally released your bud from his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes full of arousal, “Well then we’ll just have to warm you up then won’t we, my goddess?” His hand slithering down your waist as he parted his lips once more your left tit, sucking harshly making you jolt.

His fingers pushing beneath your panties as his fingers dragging against your puffy slit as you let out a breathy noise legs parting further for him as you leaned back on your hands, hips shifting to give him more access to your cunt.

Jungkook was delighted by the invitation you could tell by the way he harshly sucked your bud, middle finger suddenly pushing inside you, sliding in with a slight pinch of discomfort that didn’t last long as he pushed all the way until his knuckle met with your body.

“We can’t be too loud now,” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, “So you’ll need to be a good girl for me and be quiet.”

You bit down on your lip as he pushed his index finger inside you the pinched discomfort returning the sensation of his fingers pushing in and out of your little hole had you relaxing into his touch with a soft moan, walls squeezing around his fingers with each thrust.

“Mmm that’s a good girl,” Jungkook grinned, pupils dilated in lust as he buried his fingers back inside your cunt, feeling your little walls clench around him once more before he brushed his thumb over your clit a higher pitch whine escaping you, “Ah, ah, remember,” Jungkook looked amused, “You need to be quiet if you want to cum all over my fingers princess.”

“Kook,” You whispered, eyes closed tight at the feeling of his thumb teasingly brushing over your clit, fingers buried deep inside you as your walls tightened around his digits, “Please…!”

The cold air was wrapping around your body, but the sharp contracts of his warm tongue and fingers burying inside you.

Jungkook laid you back against the fur before pulling your panties off, “You’ll get your pleasure, but you need to be a good girl and wait,” His voice was deep and soft taking off his own underwear to reveal his heavy, thick cock fully hardened, he parted your legs as you tensed cold air invading your cunt as he pushed his fingers back inside you, your clit extra sensitive from the cold with each little brush of his thumb, every little tease sent a sharp jolt of pleasure in your body.

Wet sticky arousal dripping from you little hole as you squeezed around his fingers, wiggling your hips a little with a whine, “Kook, need more..” You whispered out, not liking this slow teasing game.

“Patience,” Jungkook replied, fingers pulling out of you only a little just to thrust them back in, he did this once more, even rougher, his pace was just right, hitting that sweet little spot inside your body that your walls clenching each time as your legs twitched.

Jungkook’s free hand rubbed through your puffy wet slit before he gripped the base of his cock, a hissed grunt escaping him as he slowly pumped his base, watching the lewd act immediately made a soft moan escape you, just the idea of his fat cock inside you had you clenching hard around him as he began arithmetically thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spot.

“Fuuck you like watching me stroke my fat cock for you my love?” Jungkook let out a wicked look, his hand running all the way up his cock, thumb messily smearing his precum over his fat bulbous head before running it back down meanwhile his other hand began forcefully shoving inside your little hole greedily.

His thumb circling your clit as pleasure began shooting through your body, your eyes never leaving his cock that he squeezed tightly in his hand pumping it eagerly as his eyes flickered between your cunt sucking in his fingers needily and your face, entranced by his movements.

It made his shaft throb so bad in pleasure it hurt, he threw his head back with a low moan hips lifting as he thrusted his cock into his fist, feeling your little hole squeeze so tight around him it was difficult to move his fingers.

Jungkook locked eyes with you, that wicked look on his face, “What do you think that little ex lover of yours would say if he could see you right now?”

“Mmm! Right there…!” You whimpered out, struggling to keep your voice quiet as your legs turned limp at how rough he was thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spongy spot inside you, “Kook, right there…!”

Jungkook lifted his hips once more, fucking his fist at the way your legs lifted up, bringing them to your chest to obediently spread your cunt further for him, “Would he say I’m corrupting you right now?”

You had to bite down on your hand to fight back the whines and moans trying to escape you, “Please…! Please.” You kept muttering it, body twisting and building so fast your mind was completely blank aside from the filth Jungkook was whispering to you.

“That I’m tainting his pretty little Eunoian princess, filling her cunt up until she’s completely fucked out cumming all over my fingers?” Jungkook harshly squeezed the base of his cock, keeping his knuckles buried in your cunt as he rapidly hit into your g-spot.

Jungkook wanted to laugh at the strangled high pitched moan escaping you as you desperately tried to keep it quiet, feeling your warm little walls wrap tight around his fingers as you came, arms wrapping around your face to try and keep your cries of pleasure to yourself.

Jungkook eased you through your orgasm before pulling his fingers out of you, low breathes escaping you as your chest lifted and dropped before letting your arms drop from your face to the crude sight of Jungkook’s fingers in his mouth, eyes closed with soft moan as he licked your cum off them.

“This is the best way I could have ever relaxed.” Jungkook pulled his fingers from his mouth with a content look as he laid down next to you, your eyes however still on his hardened cock.

“But you…” You frowned.

Jungkook raised his brows before his eyes dropped to his cock before shrugging, “I don’t cum easily, a good and bad thing I guess. C’mere love.”

“How do you want me?” Jungkook’s eyes snapped back open as they met yours, as if trying to figure out if he heard you correct, “I want you to feel good too, how do you want me?”

Jungkook moaned softly closing his eyes once more, unable to look at those cute, eager little eyes of yours, basically asking to be filled up by him.

“Ride my cock.” Jungkook replied, admittedly getting difficult to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather kill himself then miss the opportunity to cum inside your pretty, puffy little cunt.

You knew what he meant, you had gathered as much the last time but you just… you awkwardly straddled him, his hands on your hips to help guide you, this wouldn’t be as difficult as last time right?

Grabbing his cock in your hand you heard a gritted hiss through his teeth, rubbing his bulbous head through your wet folds before lining him against your entrance, unlike last time you sank onto it.

Biting your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, rather than a pinch the discomfort was still moderate, but not nearly as much as the first time.

“Mmm fuck,” Jungkook moaned softly, still unable to process that he was getting to feel your warm little walls wrapping around his thick head, “Does it still hurt?”

His hands soothingly rubbed up to your waist before back to your hips, “A little,” You whispered, settling your hands on his chest, “I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jungkook opened his lidded eyes, trying his damn hardest to not fall asleep right now, “It’s not difficult, just a matter of practice. Sink a little lower…” Jungkook bit his lower lip a little at watching his cock sink further inside your warm cunt, “Now lift your hips like this.”

You let his hands guide your movements as you let out a soft whine, the pain subsiding as his cock began to slide inside you with ease, stuffing you so full it was difficult to believe you had something this big inside you.

Just the feeling of his heavy cock burying inside your cunt made your walls wrap tighter around him, slowly bouncing on his cock as Jungkook’s hands settled on your hips, “Fuck yeah love, just like that, riding my fuckin’ cock like you were made for it.”

His words of pleasure made you bounce a little faster, taking him a little deeper each time before his hands tightened on your hips, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you all the way down, you let out a tiny whine at being so full of cock with no warning, walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned.

Jungkook’s eyes were closed as he let out a breathy deep moan, “Could fall asleep like this every night, use my pretty little wife as my personal cock warmer, mmm keep squeezing around me like that.” He had a sleepy smirk on his face as his hands wrapped around your ass, urging you to start riding him once more.

You quickly found you loved being full of cock though, cunt split open by something so thick and heavy, excitement trilled through your body making your walls wrap tight around him as you began bouncing on his cock.

Letting out quiet moans at the feeling of his shaft hitting all the right places inside you, “Mmm yeah, oh…fuck…” You whined out softly, sitting up right as you bounced all the down his cock as you grinded against his pubic bone.

Jungkook forced his tired eyes open to the amazing sight of you, his pretty wife completely naked bouncing on his cock, tits bouncing and face fucked out, clearly pleasuring yourself now, “Make me cum,” He moaned out softly, “Let me fill that pretty little cunt up.”

You kept trying to bite back your whines as your hips became more messy in bouncing, uneven and unsteady as pleasure quickly built inside you, sinking back on his cock as your walls tightened, moaning just a hair louder as you creamed all over his cock.

Jungkook was tired, sleep near taking him the same way you took his cum, letting it shoot deep inside you as you swiveled your hips, taking every lost drop he’d give as quiet breathes filled the tent, your own eyes closed with that same unmistakable tiredness.

Jungkook let out a tired smile, “What a good girl.” He pulled you onto his chest, shifting you both to be buried beneath the blankets and furs, being skin to skin made you realize just how cold you had been.

Jungkook’s skin was like fire, hot to the touch and your own personal little fire, curling up against him, your eyes immediately fell heavy, sleep had never felt so peaceful as being skin to skin with your husband.

The journey to Kimhae had been rather uneventful and what few encounters you had with wolves and even a bear, Fenrir had easily warded them off, your baby having grown so much in the last months now standing just a little taller than your horse.

Jungkook had been up ahead chatting with Yoongi for awhile now, something regarding plans on resuming the Eastern movement when you returned from Yule.

Wheein had been riding by you for awhile now in a comfortable silence aside from a few comments to Fenrir who had been running ahead in the snow and finding random branches to be thrown, the only problem being they were too heavy for you to toss.

“Something on your mind Wheein?” You finally asked, having noticed a faraway look in her eyes for a good while now.

Her eyes met yours before she gave a small, weak smile, “Nothing incredibly important I just…” She faltered a little, “I know the past cannot be changed but, I can’t help but feel like so many events could have been avoided if it weren’t for me.”

You straightened up, frowning immediately at her words, “What would make you say that?”

Wheein hesitated to speak, “...What happened, with my execution, you…” It looked as if it was physically difficult to attempt to finish her sentence, “I know how important keeping your culture intact is for you. You’ve done nothing but try to become a Penumbrian Princess, and for you to be put in a position where you had to compromise your own personal oath and belief…” Wheein let out a shaky breath, visibly puffing in the cold air as her eyes looked watery, “I feel as though I haven’t given you a proper apology M’lady.”

Your heart felt like it was twisted, “You have nothing to apologize over Wheein. I am still mourning many things but I…I don’t regret what I did. I said it once and I will say it again, I was willing to do anything to get you back. Di Jin was the assassin who attempted to kill me, which started this entire mess…I don’t know how much you’ve heard about the Estate…”

Wheein’s lips stayed in a frown, cheeks flush and rosy from the cold wind as she adjusted her shawl, shaking her head, “Only whispers of rumors to what happened, and my own assumptions when you intervened on my execution.”

You let out a shaky sigh, trying your best to detach yourself from the memory as you recalled the events that lead up to that fateful night, “They had lured Yoongi away and I foolishly sent him in good faith that nothing would happen but…Di Jin revealed himself that night revealing that he had come to finish what he started. He almost did,” Your hand trembled as you pressed it against your chest, “Then he got closer to me, trying to kiss my neck and…I don’t know.”

And that was the funniest part, you still had vivid clips of what happened in your head, but it was all so fast, so gorey, your mind had blotted out a lot of it, “One minute he was on top of me, and the next minute I was covered in blood.”

There it was, that distinct iron on your tongue, it made you sick to your stomach, “And I didn’t stop after he was dead,” Your lips trembled as you whispered, “That’s the part that scares me the most. He was dead and I kept going, I...it was like I was possessed, unable to stop. I felt…” It felt like bile was beginning to rise in your throat as you swallowed it back, “Good. Powerful, invincible in that moment, feeling his flesh in my mouth, the taste of his blood on my tongue-”

Your hand suddenly grabbed your lips, trying to swallow back the bile which risen much faster, immediately grabbing the water satchel that hung off the saddle of your horse, taking a long drink from it to try and wash what you had just admitted away.

It had been plaguing the back of your mind every moment it was quiet, the fact that something inside you liked it, even enjoyed the depraved act, showing someone who had disrespected you and your heritage, making a mockery of it for so long, a little devil inside you secretly wishing you had finished what you had started, to devoured him the way your ancestors would.

Even now a little voice in the back of your head was thrilled by it, it never ceased to make you sick, Weak in the stomach with shame every time it crossed your mind, it felt so heretical to think let alone voice aloud, the extent of how much a secret part of you enjoyed it.

“I am so sorry Princess,” Wheein whispered, clearly hurting for you as she held back her tears, inhaling sharply, “I still can’t believe what’s happened. I’m sure being away from Penumbra will be a good break for all of us.”

“If I had just…” You had to stop yourself from saying what you wanted, you had the ability to heal Wheein’s mother, maybe if you had listened to Baba Enàir more carefully, had been more dedicated to your studies as a child…perhaps this whole thing could have been prevented if you had been the one to heal Wheein’s mother, disputing any claims, “I’ll never send you away so often like that without company, I never want to put you in such a compromising position Wheein and for that I am sorry.”

“We all have our grievances about what happened.” Wheein smiled sadly, “But what counts is that we are both alive and well, but…Something else does plague me.”

You tilted your head, patiently waiting for her to continue as she gathered her thoughts, the wind blowing her black locks of hair back as she squinted her eyes, “We still never caught who sent the assassin. What if this happens once more?”

You frowned, you had thought this as well, “Something tells me, whoever did this will try a different tactic next. We must remain vigilant, perhaps moreso in Penumbra then even in Kimhae.” You nodded in thought, “I do agree though, this will be good for all of us.”

This had become routine at night it seemed, waiting for everyone else to depart to bed before being guided back yourself, undressed by your husband’s large, warm hands, and then taken whatever way he wanted, with his hands, his tongue, his cock, you weren’t picky.

You however were starting to become used to the sensation of his cock spliting you open, his cum dripping down your thighs, an unfamiliar soreness between your legs that had a sweet ache that made you crave more.

You had never understood the idea of physical intimacy in the past, it always made your skin crawl at the idea, but then again, you never had a partner you felt you could trust like this.

More than anything, you loved being close to him like this, loved that you could be so intimate with the person you trusted more than anyone, his arms wrapped around you, laying slightly on top of your back, keeping you warm just as he promised every night.

It was odd, the comfort it brought feeling his warm cum dribbling from your little hole as you yawned, eyes closing as you dozed off in his arms.

It was still late into the night when you awoke to his lips pressing on your neck, moaning softly as his hips rutted into you, cock hardened once more much to your sleepy surprise, “Mm, need you my love.” His voice was much deeper, telling you he was also half asleep, “Dreamt of your pretty little cunt, letting me fill it up.”

“Mmm Kook.” You mumbled out, eyes closing as you felt your leg being propped further up to give him better access to your little entrance, his arms tightened around your waist as he managed to line his cock up before pushing it in.

A soft sleepy moan escaped you, an entirely new position you were acquainted with but something about it made you feel so full, his cock pushing all the way inside you until his hips were flush with yours.

Each lazy thrust of his hips had soft noises escaping you, your eyes shutting in tired bliss at his cock pushing past your little walls, filling you to the brim each time, throbbing as the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy little spot.

Jungkook moaned as he buried his cock inside you once more, his movements having paused forcing your eyes back open, was he asleep? Your walls suddenly squeezed around his cock at being so split open by him.

This elicited a moan from his lips that sounded like pure sex, “Your cunt is heaven,” He mumbled in your skin, “Could keep my cock buried inside you forever.”

Not moving was stirring you further, making you more awake as you whined, “Jungkook, move…!” You wiggled your hips a little earning a small thrust from him.

“Think I’ll asleep like this,” He moaned once more into your skin, “Like the way your cunt wraps around me like this when I’m splitting your cunt open.”

Jungkook moaned at feeling your cunt squeeze around him once more at his words, just like he had hoped, “Just go back to sleep my love,” He mumbled in your ear, hand pulling around to cup your tit in his hand as he massaged it making you whine in frustration as your hips began to pull and lift, sliding his cock in and out of your cunt just a little.

“Mmm fuuck, sweetheart go to sleep.” Jungkook’s voice was a pitch higher than before, his free hand almost guiding your hips though as you fucked back against him, and your eyes were closed but sleep was not on your mind.

Your lips parted with a soft whine at the new sensation this position gave you with him behind, his cock slide inside you just the right way brushing that sweet little spot with each bounce of your hips, it had you rapidly clenching around his cock.

Muffling your moans into your blankets as you pushed all the way back against him wiggling your hips as pleasure throbbed throughout your cunt, feeling arousal dripping from your hole as his cock slid back inside you with ease as you let out a pathetic whine, walls wrapping harsh around him but it just wasn’t quite enough to get yourself to orgasm.

Jungkook let out a sleepy chuckle, “Working yourself up are you?”

It wasn’t fair…! He woke you up and you were somehow the one falling apart on his cock desperate to cum, “Koo, please.” You whimpered out quietly, shifting yourself a little to be better able to lift your hips up to his, giving his cock better access to slid in and out of your little hole with ease.

“Mmm shit, your acting like a bitch in heat,” He moaned softly, eyes dropping to your cunt that kept backing into his cock, “You want to be fucked?” He whispered deviously in your ear.

And Jungkook knew you did, could feel the way your walls wrapped so tight around his throbbing cock, wanting so desperately to reach your climax.

“Jungkook…” You whispered urgently.

“Say it.”

You let out a frustrated noise, pausing your movement but Jungkook wasn’t having it, his hand wrapping around your neck as he gave it a harsh squeeze, letting out a small gag as his voice deepened in your ear, “Beg for it little princess, beg for me. Beg for my cock.”

Jungkook suddenly thrusted inside you, harshly making your body jolt as you whined out, shaking your head, this only made him thrust rougher causing you to squeeze around him in excitement, “Mmm like this, feels…! Good.” You whimpered out quietly, your body twitching as pleasure blossomed in your cunt, you were so close…!

Jungkook buried back inside you, stopping once more causing a louder fussy whine to escape you, his hand squeezing around your neck once more, “If you like this then you’ll love what’s next. But you need to tell me, c’mon,” His hips lazily swiveled before giving short thrusts, edging your body as your hands curled into fists, “Tell me you want my cock, that you want your pretty little cunt destroyed by me, that you want to be filled with my cum.”

You could feel saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, his cock teasing your body with such short movements it had you whimpering, “Koo’, fuck me, please…! Need you’, need your cock, anything…!”

Jungkook moaned as your quiet frantic plea’s as he suddenly pulled out of you, a sharp whine escaping you as he swatted your ass to be quiet, manhandling you onto you stomach as he kneeled between your legs you felt confused before your hips were lewdly lifted, presenting your cunt to him.

You didn’t have any time to adjust or even think before his cock pushed back inside you, a moan much louder than you meant for it to escape your lips at an entirely new, better sensation, every movement of his cock had you cunt squeezing in pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you like being made to take it from behind?” Jungkook moaned, keeping your hips up as he thrusted inside your little entrance, watching it split open for his cock before greedily sucking it in, “Maybe this is how your little dryad kin had children? Fucking like animals?” He whispered out, hearing a gurgled whine from you only made his thrusts that much more forceful, the sound of his balls smacking into your skin music to his ears, “Being made into nothing more than a bitch desperate for cock.”

The side of your face was planted into the ground, eyes shut in pleasure at just how good it felt, his cock hitting every little sensitive spot inside you, his demeaning words that would’ve sent flames of angry through your body once upon a time only filled you with excitement, enjoying how he manhandled you how rough he was starting to thrust, no regard for whether your cunt could take it or not.

Your mind was filled with all sorts of unholy things, not realizing how much you were beginning to moan, enjoying the way he had a hand pressed into your back forcing you down on the ground, his balls smacking your skin and his cock pushing past your tight walls.

“Koo’...! ‘m gonna..! Mmm!” Your moans were gurgled, desperate, cunt rapidly squeezing around his cock, a feeling he had quickly grown to love as you crumbled beneath him, at his mercy as he roughly thrusted, burying his cock deep inside you as he quickly leaned over you, chest flush with your back as his hips became faster.

Just as you let out the whinest, loudest cry his hand covered your mouth to muffle it, tears began to build in your eyes at how powerful the pleasure was building in your body, your legs uselessly twitching and your body convulsing.

But it was all useless as his cock kept sliding in and out of your small hole, “Go on sweetheart, mm know how bad you wanna cum. I see those pathetic little tears. Cum sweetheart, cream all over my fat cock, make it nice and messy for me.”

Your body was being jolted with every thrust of his hips, your clit aching to be touched as your cunt was full of his thick shaft, his dirty words whispered in your ear making you throw a whiny pathetic fit as your walls squeezed even tighter around him, so desperate to be obedient.

“C’mon princess,” Jungkook moaned tantalizingly in your ear, his hips pounding into you with nice lengthy thrusts, wet lewd sounds coming from how soaked you were, “Can feel it, feel how bad that pretty little cunt wants to cum, squeezing around me so tight, fuuck, that’s it, c’mon.” Jungkook wasn’t intentionally edging you but god did it feel good, you were moaning and crying into his hand, tears slowly beginning to trickle down your face at how good you felt.

Not a single thought in your head other than his cock stuffing you full, purposely dragging into the little spongy spot each time just edging you a little closer each time to your release.

“Does your little pussy feel good?” He teased you, a wicked grin on his face as his hips pushed fully inside you, giving short thrusts to keep you as full of cock as possible, “You like presenting this little hole to me? Letting me fuck my seed deep inside, my pretty wife who swore she’d never let me cuff her in bed? How does it feel knowing I’m going to fill your pretty little cunt up?”

Jungkook let out a low moan, feeling your muffled voice cry out against the skin of his palm as your cunt rapidly clenched around him cumming so hard it felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head.

And Jungkook wasn’t stopping, his hips slammed into you, wet lewd sounds filling the tent and his balls smacking into your skin as he kept his hand on your mouth to keep your moans and cries of pleasure quiet, unable to subdue them yourself anymore, as the pleasure kept going, his hips jostling you around before you felt it.

“Fuck!” Jungkook growled out, burying his cock inside you as he came, roughly pumping his cock inside you as he let out a shaky moan, letting your greedy cunt suck every drop from him as he moaned, perhaps louder then even he intended.

After a few more seconds he collapsed on top of you, making you whine, sniffling as you wiped your face as you felt his hand drag to your waist, stroking it tenderly as he pressed a kiss against your neck, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pressing another kiss against your skin, “Made for me. Only me.” His hand squeezed your waist, before he laid flat on his back shifting you around to lay against him, your body curling up as you set your head against his chest.

Your thighs were aching and your hand trembled if you looked close enough as you dragged it over his chest.

And for the first time, with the fire illuminating the inside of the tent, you took the time to drag it over the rough skin of his chest and upon closer inspection noticed all sorts of marks, curiously you shifted once more.

“Was twice not enough for my little sun?” Jungkook chuckled as you straddled his waist, his hands wrapping around your hips, “We’ll need to start retiring earlier if you want me to have more stamina.”

“I’m not…!” You felt your body flush, trying to remind yourself that you were in fact naked right now, “I’m just looking.”

“Mmm, so am I.” Jungkook’s eyes trailing down your exposed body to your cunt, watching the white substance dripping out onto his skin, “If I weren’t already exhausted I’d already have you bent over again.”

“Jungkook!” You whispered out, starting to feel embarrassed now, “Stop…please.”

He let out a tired, boyish smile and staring down at him you couldn’t help but mirror it, he looked much younger like this, more like his age, eyes lidded from tiredness as his hands wrapped further, fingers digging into your ass, “Is it a crime to admire my wife? You’re only sitting on top of me naked.”

“I’ve seen you shirtless many times now,” You decided to no longer entertain his dirty thoughts, slowly lowering yourself down his chest making his fingers squeeze tighter around your ass, “But i’ve never truly paid attention.”

“To my godly physique?”

This made you both quietly laugh as you shook your head, unable to not be endeared by this new playful side of him you had never seen, “How did you know?” You whispered back, a light tease in your voice as your hand traced over his sternum, “I meant the scars…How many battles did you fight in?”

Jungkook palmed your ass in his hands, massaging the flesh as he yawned, eyes closing as he hummed potentially trying to recall, “Too many to count honestly, I was drafted before the Five Year War started as to be properly prepared.”

Your fingers traced over each scar, some long and thin, others short and deeper, few discolored still having never properly healed, others faded and hardly visibly, “How’d you get this one?” Your finger’s stopped on his left right, a circular scar it was small, as if he had been pierced.

Jungkook’s eyes slowly lidded once more, following where your fingers pressed, “When we first rode to Rolon for war, an archer shot me right off my horse, my only saving grace from death was the wind otherwise it would’ve pierced my heart, y'know it’s said the Rolon Archer’s were trained since children, they could shoot a coin from over a hundred yards away.”

“You were injured before the battle had even begun?” You whispered out, perhaps a little amused at his story.

Jungkook’s hand trailed down the back of your thigh, pulling them apart just a little making your hips brush over his skin, the feeling of wet stickiness rubbing over his skin, “It was my first endeavor by myself, my men were counting on me to lead them, you can imagine it was a pretty pathetic sight.”

“So how did you manage to siege them if you could not get close?” You tilted your head, resting your elbows down his chest, your hips appeasing him as you softly grinded down on his pubic bone.

“We had all camped outside their outer districts, preparing ourselves,” Jungkook let out a pleasured hum, eyes closed once more and fingers trailing back to your ass before settling at your steady, soft movement, “We could not get close to their borders without them shooting us down by the tens if not hundreds. And so we would have to make ourselves unknown, invisible.”

A quiet moan escaped him at the feeling of your hips pulling just a little further down just above where his cock was beginning to stir despite his own lethargy.

“Invisible?” Tiredness was beginning to pull at your lids but you enjoyed this too much, the conversation, the feeling of your puffy, cum covered slit grinding against him, making him break focus, “Surely that wouldn’t be possible?”

“Invisible to the faraway eye that is,” Jungkook’s brows pinched, fingers gripping your ass a little tighter as your hips dragged just along the base of his hardening cock, weepy and sensitive from having already came inside you twice this night, “Mmm, I didn’t think you’d be such a little lust driven succubus once we consummated.”

It made you grind him just a little harder, the feeling of his cock bobbing before it smacked against your cunt, fully hardened and precum smearing against your asscheek.

“I’m trying to have a conversation,” You teased, hands traveling over the expanse of his chest before your fingers found his dark nipples, curiously you pinched them a little, “You’re the one that’s making it sexual.”

A restrained moan escaped him as his eyes cracked open, you couldn’t help your curiosity, fascinated at his different reactions to different things, after all, you were learning his body just as much as he was learning of yours.

“Sex is dripping off of you,” Jungkook sighed, feeling your hips tease his cock once more, puffy slit rubbing down it’s base before back to his pubic bone, “I can’t help the way my body reacts to it, climbing on top of me naked isn’t a productive way to have a conversation.”

You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly, relishing in the feeling of his heady, heavy cock dragging through your puffy slit, coating it in a mixture of your wetness and cum.

Feeling his shaft rubbing into your sensitive clit was you let out a soft moan, “You didn’t continue your story. How were you invisible.” Your hips dragged back to his pubic bone, pausing your movement to try and refocus your conversation.

Jungkook let out a displeased sound, fingers digging against your ass once more, “If you want to hear my stories, keep entertaining me.”

“Can you stay focused?” You gave him a mischievous smile, slowly pulling back up to your elbows, his eyes immediately on your tits.

“As long as you don’t make me cum,” Jungkook retorted right back, a cocky grin on his face, “Well?” You tried not to shy away from his expression as your hips slowly began rubbing on him once more, teasing the base of his cock as he let out a soft pleasured moan, eyes slowly closing once more to enjoy the feeling as he recalled, “I proposed to my men that we would camouflage ourselves with the terrain, we covered ourselves in mud and moss, whatever greenery we could and crawled on the earth to evade their eyes.”

His fingers dragged down to the back of your thighs once more as your hips dragged a little lower down his shaft as your clit throbbed making a soft moan escape you, “That’s how you managed to siege their capitol Montclair?”

His fingers pulled your thighs apart, opening your slit a little more as it rubbed along is shaft back to his base, “Mmhm, like that,” He whispered out at feeling your hips pause at the base of his cock, wiggling a little to push it further between the lips of your cunt.

Silence had suddenly taken over as your eyes shut, enjoying being able to pleasure your husband as your hips slowly rode the base of his cock, letting it slip against your lips and rub along your clit.

This type of pleasure was slow, tantalizing, making his hips rut a little, gliding with ease against your soaked cunt, “What about this one.” Your fingers briefly brushed along his left breast, a long wicked line crossing it as you slowed your hips back down.

“Training accident when I was younger,” Jungkook murmured out, sounding half asleep, “I had assumed Hoseok was going for a lower strike but he tricked me, he got too close and accidentally sliced me right across the chest, it was a larger wound when it had first happened.”

Jungkook had a faint smile on his lips as his hands dragged to your waist, keeping a firm grip to encourage your hips, his eyes pulled open only a little, “He wouldn’t stop crying while profusely apologizing to me, saying he’d do anything to keep the wrath from my father at bay.”

“Did he hear about it?” Your moan was mixed with your soft laugh, grinding down as your clit dragged against his skin.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, “No, it only went as far as my aunt. She merely laughed it off, saying it was good practice for the real deal.”

You paused your movement, hands tracing down his particularly slim waist, just at the bottom of his ribcage, “And this?”

You lifted yourself up as Jungkook opened his eyes, “No looking.” You whispered out.

This made him confused before he let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes once more, “I’ve seen it already princess, you can’t hide anything from me at this point.”

“I’m…testing…it’s lewd.” You tried not to be embarrassed as you sat down on his taunt, thick muscular thighs, legs still parted as you situated your cunt against his base once more, “How did you get that scar?” You prompted him once more.

Jungkook seemed to be having an increasingly harder time focusing as he felt it, your cunt making contact with the sensitive underside of his cock, your hips lifting to drag against his shaft, “It was when we attempted war with Kyoto, I was in the frontlines with the other underlings and an assassin of Kyoto had made his way into the trenches.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched as he felt your hand wrap around the head of his cock, giving short as he let out a breathy moan, hand running through his hair, “He was a full grown man and we were nothing more than boys pretending to be men. His sword longer than us all,” He bit down on his lip at your hand squeezing his cock, your cunt sliding against his base, “He cut two of the other underlings in half with just one swing, I was almost the third, I had barely managed to jump back in time but the tip of his blade still cut through me, blood was everywhere.”

“How did you live?” You whispered out, sadness somewhere deep inside you filled your heart through the haze of lust.

“Jimin had managed to jump on his back,” Jungkook let out another breath moan at feeling your hand drag down his cock, “Stabbed him in the neck, he choked on his own blood as they all rushed to get first aid for me. I almost bled out that night but by some miracle they had managed to stop the bleeding and get me stitches.”

Jungkook groaned as his hands curled into fists, pleasure becoming much stronger than it was supposed to, “Enough please.”

The movements ceased, “Does it not feel good?”

“It feels too good, I told you to not make me cum.” Jungkook sighed softly in relief as he felt you change positions back to your original, the weight of your body situated once more fully on top of him, “Mmm warm my cock.”

“I don’t understand how that works.” You whispered out, a bit embarrassed, you were a fast learner but you still didn’t know all the ends and outs of how all of this worked.

This made Jungkook laugh softly, endeared at your words as he forced his tired eyes back open, “It’s simple honestly, sit on my cock, let it stay warm inside you. I’ll be able to focus and recall events more better that way.”

“Really?” You replied skeptically.

“Mhm, what else do you want to know?” Jungkook let a crooked smirk tug on his lips as you grabbed the base of his cock, obediently doing as he told you, the fat head pushing inside you, a noise escaping you both.

Slowly you slid down his cock until your hips were flush with his, “Mmm, what now?” It was hard to focus now having him stuffing you so full.

Jungkook let out a long content sigh, “Nothing, this is it. Ask away.”

His hands lovingly stroked your hips as you suddenly struggled to speak, feeling his fat large cock throbbing inside you, walls clenching around him as your arousal dripped.

Jungkook let out an amused breath, “Cat got your tongue?”

You shook your head, slowly leaning back down to rest yourself on his chest, but somehow laying made your body feel even more full, “This one?” Your words were soft, trembled with a quiet whine, fingers brushing over his right bicep, a thin long line curving around it.

Jungkook’s hands stroked your waist before trailing over your back, “It happened during our siege of Prokiev, the battle happened overnight and it was dark out, fire my only source for my fight with their royal guard captain, our adrenaline was running out and we were both ragged, he threw a sloppy blow aiming for my chest but I moved away and back, the edge of his blade managed to pierce right through my chainmail. It wasn’t a serious injury.”

Jungkook let out a soft pleasured sigh at your little walls clenching around him, seemingly unable to relax with him buried this deep and unmoving in your cunt, “It serves as a reminder though.”

“To what?” You whispered out, setting your head down on his chest, biting down on your lip once more, trying so, so hard to focus on his words and not his cock, it felt like he was completely stretching you out, hitting all the way up into your stomach though surely that wasn’t possible.

Even if it felt like it was.

“That many want me dead, sharpening their blades that even a shallow cut could one day maim me or better yet kill me. Sometimes I wonder how I survived,” Jungkook murmured, eyes closing as he fought the sleep off, “Each of these scars is proof that I’m still here, that somehow despite all of the odds, whether it was pure luck, or pure skill, I lived another day. Learned, grew from my mistakes.”

Your eyes had fallen shut, tiredness pulling you into a lull as you felt a blanket being pulled over you, engulfing you in warmth once more.

You let out a ghost of a whine at feeling the slightest rut of his hips, cock making sure it was buried as far inside you as possible, Jungkook pressed a kiss against your head, “Something above let me live, let me marry you, the love of my life.”

Your eyes had become heavier with each passing gentle press of his lips, you had soon fallen asleep to the sweet sensation of his lips feathering your skin, hands stroking your side, cock keeping you full and ushers of love on his lips.

While the journey had been safe and overall good travel, to say you were relieved to be in Kimhae was an understatement, the air was cold, but it didn’t have that wet sharp feeling it did in Penumbra, and only a bit of frost covered the ground now.

Your thickest layers were shedded during travel as it got warmer much to your relief, more than anything you were ready to see your family, and even more so ready to sleep in a proper bed and rest.

You couldn’t voice it aloud to anyone but your thighs were sore from not only riding your horse but also from other nefarious activities late into the night, you were absolutely ready to stand on your own two feet for the next week.

Upon entering the gates of Kimhae the sight was familiar enough to you, elegant towering buildings, busy towns people who all seemed to pause from their business at the sight of not just you but your husband, whispers broke out and if your life in Penumbra had helped you with one thing, it was being able to ignore the stares.

Riding next to your husband as you made your way through the capitol until you arrived at the large gates of the palace, the courtyard open and lush, what you hadn’t expected was the sight of someone so familiar and yet…now had become a total stranger to you.

Kim Seokjin, the man you had once thought was the love of your life, only to realize that this was a feeble, childish type of love, the type of love you think is love until you truly fall in love.

He stood tall and proud as his eyes locked onto your figure, standing in white double buttoned vest and long sleeve, royal blue cape cascading behind him dramatically.

He looked like something out of a fairytale and you couldn’t deny Seokjin was just as handsome as you remembered, clean cut and warm skin.

Coming to a stop, your vision of him was somewhat blocked by your husband, and for the first time seeing them almost side by side made you realize just how different they were, Jungkook dawned in all black, hair array from travel and longer then when you had first met, well overdue for a trim.

His look, all too familiar, neutral but often coming across as dark and brooding to a person who wasn’t well acquainted with him.

And you supposed you must have seemed different from your old self as well, you no longer wore flowery apparel light apparel, now often dawned in black and maroons, today no different though you had gone without the fuss and feathers to make travel easier, a plain black gown with an under layer of red peeping out, sleeves dramatically long but slits having formed to make movement easier, another white long sleeve layer beneath to keep you warm as well as curl up to your neck.

Jungkook had already dismounted his horse, holding his hands out to you as you stood up in your saddle, pulling your leg over before you felt the security of his hands wrap around your waist, lifting you down safely.

You offer him a tiny smile of thanks as you turn to face Seokjin, the hand staying curled around your waist however did not go unnoticed by you as you both walked to greet your ex-lover.

“Seokjin, I cannot thank you enough for your invitation,” You gave him a soft smile, perhaps a sort of soft spot for him still lingered in your chest, after all, while your love might not have been deep, it was something, and you’d take it for what it was, “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, I’m relieved to see you alive and well, it’s been too long.” Seokjin’s eyes were locked onto you and only you, and briefly you felt a sort of severed connection.

His eyes drilling into you with a sort of passion that you only blinked at with a friendly polite smile, him taking your hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, “Truthfully I don’t think enough time has passed.”

Your hand was suddenly snatched away by a much larger one, Jungkook’s expression had quickly gone from neutral to one hundred percent leering and unfriendly, that typical icy Jeon glare as he spoke coldly, “Kim Seokjin.”

Seokjin’s eyes burned into the sight, Jungkook’s hand holding onto your own in a sort of protective manner, as if he assumed the man’s kiss to your hand would maim you.

“Jeon Jungkook.” Seokjin’s eyes twisted into a glare, but it simply didn’t have the same bite as Jungkook’s, “I can’t say I remember inviting the Jeon’s.”

“Interesting you say that,” Jungkook replied, a haughty cold look on his face, “Given one found its way to my wife,” He glanced down at you, a squeeze of his hand on your waist and his hand releasing your own only for his fingers to trace your jawbone, “Only the most beautiful Jeon.”

Jungkook’s thumb tugged at your lower lip and you couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze, somewhat flustered at such an open display of affection, “What my husband means to say is we’ve come here to represent Penumbra together, I hope this will be the first of many Yule’s we can all come together and celebrate the Rite of Peace.”

You could tell by Seokjin’s gritted smile that whatever he had anticipated this was not it, it softened however as his eyes landed on you, “For you, I’d do anything Y/n.” His gaze became more sharp as they locked back onto Jungkook, “...And I suppose that goes for you as well. I hope your stay in Kimhae treats you well.”

“As do I.” Jungkook retorted, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to rest after our journey.”

You briefly glanced up at Jungkook, brow furrowing in a little bit of annoyance, you understood that Jungkook absolutely did not like Seokjin in the least, but couldn’t he be a little more discreet about it?

This being your first public appearance as a couple meant you’d have to be careful how you presented yourselves, if he wanted to quarrel with the man you did not care as long as he did it in private where prying eyes and ears couldn’t witness it.

“Of course,” Seokjin almost sneered at him, making you shuffle a bit uncomfortable at seeing the men nearly bearing teeth at one another, “My head maid will show you to your room.”

Seokjin gave you one last look, and you couldn’t quite describe it, it was one of yearning and longing, and yet it wasn’t reciprocated as you allowed Jungkook to lead you both into the palace following behind the maid.

“What was all of that about?” You whispered reprimanding to Jungkook.

Jungkook only looked ahead, “He touched you.”

“...He was being polite.” You reasoned, you had never seen such displays from Jungkook before- well aside from the time Claudin had taken your hand.

Come to think of it, you supposed this was less rash then when he pressed a knife into Claudin’s neck for so much as grabbing your hand to kiss, truthfully you should be thankful it didn’t escalate so quickly to that.

Stepping into your guest room you paused, realizing this was the room you used to stay in when you were a maiden...Seokjin probably still has the route memorized…had he thought you’d come to Kimhae alone?

You shook the ridiculous notion away as you took your cloak off, Jungkook shut the door to your shared room, “He touched you.” He emphasized it.

You turned around, raising your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at, Jungkook huffed, “Men who touch women like that aren’t being friendly.”

“It was my hand!” You pouted, “You’ve touched my hands plenty of times.”

“And look where it led.” Jungkook countered as he took his own outer apparel off, “That’s just the way it goes. And perhaps because I also know you’ve sucked his cock-”

“Jungkook!” You cried out, embarrassment flooding through you, “Don’t say it so loud!”

This made Jungkook chuckle as he sat on the foot of the bed, “Hmm, you’ve never sucked my cock before come to think of it.” He laughed even louder at suddenly being hit with the cloak you launched at him.

“I am tired and taking a nap, you can either join me or sleep on the floor if you keep being crude.” You kicked your riding shoes off as you pulled the covers curling up in bed, his body immediately beside you, arms wrapping around your waist.

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook replied, snickering into your shoulder, “You’re easy to tease.”

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader smut #prince!jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you

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