#The give me a K street job

[richardsphere]

Leverage Log: The Give Me A K Street Job

Dangerous cheerleading thing. I'll admit, as a non-American the concept of cheerleaders (and their prominence in US exported media) always baffled me. But team based sport, based around extreme athleticism, jumps falls and throws? Seems like its our once-a-season "force Parker to be the Infiltrator" episode. --- Those are some hard datapoints (3% of female athletes are cheerleaders, 66% of female athlete injuries are from that 3%), I dont know if that is accurate to life. But those are the kind of stats that feel like a "we did research for a fun cheerleading episode and got suckerpunched by the reality" lines of dialogue. --- Oh god, Parker thought that Hardisons fear of heights was a joke. (as someone on the spectrum I need to say, relatable. --- Ok quick google says that the show is right and (certainly at the shows original run came out) Cheerleading being or not being a sport was legally gray (IE: It took the Olympics until 2016 to recognise it as a sport, and even today many athletics associations refuse to acknowledge it as a sport). --- Oh i hate this committee chair already --- Lasergrid. --- OH NO, they found the worst thing they could: A right-wing politician who isnt corrupt, just legitimately an asshat! "you cant con an honest man", actually you can, its how most of your clients got fucked. You mean you cant bribe an honest man. --- Oh even worse, he's smart enough to know he's rather be king of his little seat of power then be an inconsequential cog in a bigger machine. --- Oh the bitch bribed him with a press conference and a scholarship in his name. She's good... --- Oh Hardison is lawyering up here. (Suddenly it makes sense why, according to what i've heard through the proverbial grapevine, the reboot added "lawyer" to the setup) "we're a sweepstakes?" --- Just... About.... wait for it.... *phone rings* right. Ah yeah, Nate's signature move: Insurance fraud fraud. (which is the crime of fraudulently claiming someone committed insurance fraud). Heck in this case he didnt even fake the fraud. --- I cant believe it, they got the guy on his side by tricking him into accepting a bribe from the mark. Just to be clear, I know i said before i like to see them give their antagonists more humanity. So i will compliment them on having an antagonist who had a moral backbone. And it seems Sophie will have a military fortification named after her.

Elliot suspects something is wrong with Nate.

#leverage season 5 #leverage #The give me a K street job

[my-beloved-lakes]

Lmao in the Give Me a K Street Job when the chear coach did chest compression on the girl who was still breathing and conscious 🤦 I'm sorry, I excuse a lot of medical inaccuracies in TV but that one was just ridiculous! I mean, come on! seriously!?

#leverage #the give me a k street Job

[starlostseungmin]

ice on whiskey ─── hwang hyunjin.

✰ pairing : assassin/hitman!hyunjin x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

✰ genre : mafia au, nsfw+18, strangers to lovers, kinda slow burn

✰ warnings : lots of profanity, guns, violence, character deaths, kidnapping, rampage, reader almost drowned, felix got injured, mentions of drugs and other weapons, black market, crimes such as arson, murder and illegal businesses, blood, kissing, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.receiving), cunnilingus, breast play, hyunjin stroking himself (slightly mentioned)... MNDI semi-proofread. lmk if i missed one :'>

✰ word count : 25k (the longest so far)

✰ notes : wooyoung from ateez made a cameo in here lol and i’m not expecting this to get a lot of interactions but if you do read this, DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading so i’ll know what you think of this long-ass fic. please separate fiction from reality. inspired by — freeze and give me your tmi by skz, too sweet by hozier, a few scenes from the k-drama queen of tears, vincenzo and 365 days trilogy

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @starseungs , @sleepyleejii

masterlist | taglist

members’ characters and roles.

Hwang Hyunjin. 

His name echoes as the sounds of crackling flame and a huge—thick black smoke escalate to the sky. He stood on the rooftop across from the building that was burning down as the fire trucks and cops aligned on the road beneath. 

With a zippo in his hand—he closed and opened the lid, making a small flame that caused chaos. A click sound is heard after he closes the lid, shoving it inside his black coat’s pocket. A smirk is plastered on his face upon hearing his name being cursed by the family of a notoriously corrupt politician. He doesn’t need to take a glance at who it was—he already recognizes those names being listed on his murder list. Too bad, the body burned along with the building. 

“Good job, Hyunjin,” He heard his boss say on his earpiece while removing the black gloves as he exited the building. 

It is his job to murder whoever it is when his family gets provoked. A role that he is trained to do so. 

“Get back home, we have another target,” Hyunjin stopped his car across the street as he took a few looks from the burning building. Some employees were weeping, firefighters were trying to calm the fire, the medical team was on search and the officers were investigating. 

His name will never be revealed in the media. Who knows? He’s part of the Mafia. 

“Fuckers,” He said under his breath driving away from the crime scene. 

Arson may be one of his crimes, yet that’s not the only way to do his job. The next target is set on another date. 

It was another usual night at the hotel when the sound of a gunshot was heard across the room as a body fell on the floor with a loud thud. Hyunjin stood there, a gun in his hand—eyes filled with no remorse and other emotion. He stared at the body while hiding his weapon in his belt underneath his black coat then a sigh of relaxation escaped his lips as his footsteps echoed on the marble floor—taking his way out leaving the man he just killed covered with blood. 

He always didn’t understand why Chan sent him alone to negotiate when Seungmin should be the one doing this instead. But the latter is too busy to read and win cases. Hyunjin could’ve taken a signal from Seungmin after failing to negotiate with the bastard. 

“Dispose of him.” He said to the two bodyguards waiting for him outside. 

He continued to walk by the hall as he headed towards the elevator—pressing the ground floor’s button. The door closed slowly as he leaned back on the handle while fixing his suit through the reflection. It was a waste to wear such expensive clothing only to be assigned to kill someone. He would have screamed and cried if there was blood that managed to paint his suit, even though it wouldn’t be visible since he’s wearing all black from top to toe. Still, he treasures this kind of clothing as it is the representation of his identification. 

He couldn’t say no to the boss. 

Frustrated as he was, it was getting late. The elevator reached the ground floor and his phone kept ringing inside his chest pocket in his blazer. Another urgent call. He’s been getting one ever since his morning started, probably another errand to run for Chan. His footsteps echoed once again on the marble floor through the main hall of the hotel as he made his way toward the entrance where his car was waiting.  It looked like nothing happened when he had the guts to act normal and conservative with his job but he got used to it.

A man bowed at him while giving him the keys as he took his phone out—answering that damn call. 

“Did you kill him?” A voice from the other line asked. 

“Yes,” Hyunjin answered as he opened the car’s door and sat comfortably. “I’m heading back now,” 

“Okay, be quick, we have another one on the loose,” said the man on the phone. Hyunjin didn’t respond and went to drive away. 

It is supposed to be a day off which he wanted to spend in his guesthouse near the beach on that one island. But damn Bang Chan and his list of names for murders, Hyunjin couldn’t even take the private jet to their island because for sure, he has a feeling that Chan has another mission for him or something urgent to make a meeting out of it. 

He pushed the accelerator to full speed as he drove on the highway making it like his racing track. His engine roared, earning everyone’s attention. Some cursed the shit out of him, some were amazed by his violation of traffic laws, Hyunjin felt defeated—he didn’t even get to take a sip of whiskey while trying to negotiate with that man at the hotel. He was irritated, to begin with. Imagine your day off became a business day just because someone wants to get murdered. 

It’s valid.  

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel, maintaining the speed of his Mercedes Benz as it traveled through the road by the cliff where you could see the ocean and the city lights. The thought of taking some days off just to walk by the shore would be a luxury in his crucial job. He doesn’t even remember when was the last time he had a vacation and how exactly he landed on this kind of work when he was supposed to be a professional shooter as a sport. Hiring him was probably Chan’s best decision. 

“You’re late,” He said. 

“He had a lot to talk about,” Hyunjin reasoned, taking a seat beside Felix on the couch. All eight members of the family gathered in the main living room with Chan in the middle—slamming folders on the coffee table followed by Hyunjin’s gaze. “What are these?” 

“Our next person,” Minho said, making Hyunjin sigh in response. 

“Another murder for me?” He asked cocking his head.  

“No,” Seungmin answered. “She’s a different case,” 

“She?” 

“Yes,” Felix interrupted as he took the main folder, making Hyunjin read the details. It was a profile. “Y/N Jung. She works as a publisher at Park’s Corporation. Her parents died when she was 5 and raised in an orphanage until the age of 18. Top of her class in high school and graduated Summa Cum Laude at ***** University. Mr. Park hired her a year ago and got promoted 6 months after,” 

“Impressive but what’s with this person?” Hyunjin asked who seemed not interested if it was not someone for him to shoot. 

“We found out that she’s the only daughter of the Godfather of the Jungs who died decades ago, they’re our family’s rival. She probably has no idea since she’s living a normal life but her relatives are after her since she’s the only heir. They wanted to kill her,” Seungmin said—now he is intrigued. 

“What if the Jungs will find out that she’s with us?” 

“It will provoke them of course. They still have a debt to pay after all,” Chan said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “They can’t have her that easily,” 

“So,” Hyunjin paused, pointing at himself. “I’m going to kidnap her?” He was unsure about his assignment but it will probably go that way. “And where do we keep her? Here?” 

“Your guesthouse,” Chan chuckled. “Take this mission as your days off from work, I will make sure no one finds you,” 

“Hyung, give me a break. I’m supposed to leave for Colmar this weekend,” Hyunjin argued. 

“You can’t,” Chan said firmly. “You know how your job is unpredictable so either you do this or leave?” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to be your assassin now, a babysitter?” Hyunjin scoffed. But he knows he doesn’t have a choice. Again. 

Hyunjin finds himself inside his room after the meeting in Chan’s heavenly huge mansion at the top of a mountain that was rendered for residency. He thought about the case thoroughly this time and this is the very first mission that Chan asked him not to kill anyone. It is unusual for him of course, as he is not used to the concept he’s getting into. A lost princess that everyone is looking for. She could be Rapunzel in some sort. But anyway, this could help him rest for a while. It would make his status crumble in this family if he declined the offer. 

He ran his fingers through his black long locks as he sat on his bed, taking off his blazer and loosening his tie. The gun was already placed inside the drawer and took a glass of whiskey sitting on his side table. He stared at nowhere and drowned in his deep thoughts while his back rested comfortably on the headboard along with the pillow while reading your profile and other personal documents attached to the folder. 

A lot will be planned for this exhibition. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, slamming the papers on his side table. 

**

Days passed and you arrived at the party’s venue five minutes before it started. Mr. Park already requested your presence the moment you walked in. It is supposed to be a night to enjoy but little didn’t you know that you’re being watched. Being not a fan of this kind of event, you didn’t want to be here in the first place. With tons of people and the intoxicating smell of alcohol and cigarettes, there is a reason why you didn’t party when you were still a student. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips—you admit that your life sucked by then, an orphan who managed to survive the challenges in life. You raised yourself well with the use of your late parents’ insurance money, which is quite A LOT. Yet you stopped using them when you got a job. Growing up in a tough environment, not that many friends, no social life, and a pile of money made you survive like a castaway on an unknown island. Yet you were thankful for being responsible and a few guidelines from the headmistress of the orphanage who is supposed to be a mother to you but she never did, maybe once she was. 

These thoughts never leave your mind. It was an experience to grow up independent. It hurts you sometimes that you grew up having no parents to call on, no house to go home to during the holidays, just you in that lonely—godforsaken apartment. You got used to it anyway. 

And who are you to judge the life that the heavens gave you?

You sat by the counter after a long conversation with Mr. Park regarding his business. It was tiring to speak corporate on your day off. You should be at home watching your favorite local drama and crying with a bucket of popcorn. But hell, one of the most important people in the company should be here. Another sigh was heard from you as the bartender placed a glass of champagne on the counter, indicating it was your drink. 

“Thanks,” You smiled. 

The loud music, the blinding lights, the smoke, and the smell of cigarettes being mixed with the air-conditioner are choking you. It was bad—you could’ve coughed so loud until your throat dried. Champagne won’t be a lot of help either. 

Hyunjin was there. 

White v-neck long-sleeved polo, black blazer, black slacks, and black shoes. A handsome tall man, who smells expensive, who looks expensive, and a bit dramatic at times but the people who see him can’t deny he is so damn attractive with that suit with a few strands of wet hair styled on his face for elegance. 

He walked slowly after seeing you settled by the counter wearing that black long dress with see-through sleeves. You were beautiful. 

Felix followed him as Han and Changbin were on the lookout—watching some members of the Jungs trying to locate you in the venue. Hyunjin ordered a drink as he sat on the empty high chair beside you which you had to raise your glass as a form of greeting him. He just gave you a small smile and moved his chair to watch the crowd dancing instead of the bunch of drinks on display. 

It’s safe to say that he caught your attention. Who wouldn’t when he’s tall, short wolf cut, a black suit with a white top within, a glass of whiskey in one hand—a face of a model, siren eyes, a great physique… he’s totally your type. It would give you a reason to stay in the party for a while. You hang your head low on the counter as Hyunjin notices you getting consumed by the alcohol while sipping on his whiskey. 

“You shouldn’t drink that much,” You heard him say. Damn, he’s concerned, that thought made you blush. 

“I know,” You paused between the hic. “It’s just, it’s my first time having to enjoy a drink outside,” You smiled. “I’m not a party girl, you see. I’m a home buddy,” But Hyunjin just smirked. 

You didn’t leave the counter an hour later and kept on drinking the same drink. Mind you there is only 12% of alcohol in a bottle of champagne but your tolerance doesn’t give a fuck. You don’t usually get drunk easily but this time is different. That’s what they say, drink your problems away. It is not in your life mottos. A drink wouldn’t make you decide to die. 

The person beside you, will. Not the one you greeted with the glass. He’s too handsome. 

“Incoming to Ms. Jung’s left side, Hyunjin,” Said Han from the earpiece. 

Hyunjin cleared his throat as he moved—facing the bar while turning his glass from side to side. 

Being independent meant you could sense danger in one glance but you were too dizzy to identify the man beside you. Unbeknownst to your actions, your hand landed on the man who smiled at you earlier and looked at him. He was confused as to why but it is a plus that you trust him, which you shouldn’t. Maybe because he’s not provoking you or anything. You tried so hard to stay quiet and not embarrass yourself in front of your party crush. 

Hyunjin was alerted as he craned his neck a bit to observe. 

“Such a beautiful face,” You heard the other man from your left while tightening the grip of your hand on Hyunjin’s. The unknown man was about to caress your cheek when Hyunjin suddenly let go of the grip—spinning your chair to face him, having his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he planted a kiss on your lips. It was so sudden and unexpected yet it was good. Felix was surprised as he witnessed it behind Hyunjin. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” He exclaimed. 

The kiss lasted longer. His delicate plump lips were soft as it tasted like he just had a glass of whiskey now being mixed with champagne you just had. His kiss was so gentle to the point that it was so sweetーyour knees felt weak and blood rushed through your veins. Unbeknownst to the events, he pulled his gun out from his belt, aiming at the man’s forehead. His eyes were looking at him as he was kissing you. 

The man raised his hands in surrender and yet he had this dirty smirk plastered on his face. Han and Changbin were already standing on both sides, hooking their arms around the person of interest. You were so captivated by his kiss that it felt like having a live makeout session in front of the barista and Felix but Hyunjin had to stop before it got deep.

“Fuck,” The man grunts. 

“Don’t turn around,” Hyunjin whispered to your ear as you could feel your heart going insane and your mind blank. Did he just kiss you? Yes, what the fuck. His left arm was still around your waistーpulling you closer as if he was hugging you. But why is it that he won’t allow you to turn around when you’re a blushing mess and the urge to scream in happiness is strong? 

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” The man with blonde hair spoke behind him. What?

“Are you working for the Jungs?” Hyunjin asked. You didn’t understand what these are all about and tried to get away but Hyunjin’s too strong to let you go. “Babe, don’t move,” He whispered again. I am going to ascend to heaven if he’s going to be like that for a while. 

“You could say that,” The man behind you answered. 

“You better pay your debt to the Wolves,” Hyunjin answered. “I’ll make sure you will never get your hands on Y/n,” 

How the fuck did he know my name?

“You will never know what will happen next if you kill me, Hyunjin,” The man stated. “They will find the heiress no matter what,” And with that, Hyunjin pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot was heard through the whole room. The body collapsed as everyone panicked while making their way out of the venue leaving you, Hyunjin, his brothers, and a group of men who were probably the dead man’s accomplices. You were also surprised, flinching at your spotーconfused about what was happening. 

“Get her out of here,” Said Han. “Now.” He added before he ran upstairs to catch the assigned person to take you to the Jungs along with Changbin. Hyunjin nudged Felix before turning back to you. 

“What’s happening?” You spoke in panic but at the same time, you couldn’t move. 

“Look, Miss, we have to go.” He said. Little didn’t you know that the crush you’re supposed to have made your night turn unexpectedly?

“What? You’re a stranger, I can’t trust you!” You argued but Hyunjin didn’t have enough patience to talk back right now and just went to pick you up like a damsel in distress. 

“Let’s go, Felix!” You heard him say as he walked out of the venue. Han and Changbin decided to stay back for a while unless they captured the spies who were watching you the whole time when you were with Mr. Park and Hyunjin. Everyone was panicking and managed to get out, even your boss who was assisted by his guards.

“Hey! Put me down!” You exclaimed trying to get down but Hyunjin didn’t even bother to listen and you were way too drunk to stand on your own. “We kissed but I don’t even know your name!” 

“It’s fucking Hwang Hyunjin,” He said, making you sit on the passenger’s seat as Felix went to his car parked beside Hyunjin’s. 

“Okay, Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin, take me home,” You said as you heard his engine roar. 

“I don’t even know where you live but you’re coming home with me,” He answered as he stepped on the gas making the car accelerate with Felix, tailing him. 

“Is this kidnapping? I will sue you!” You exclaimed but Hyunjin just tried to put up with your shit. “God, I’m fucking stupid! First, I got drunk from that stupid champagne! Second, I kissed a stranger and got traumatized and third I’m letting this motherfucker take me somewhere,” You cried while holding on to your seatbelt. “I don’t even know who Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is, the fuck?!” 

“Will you shut up?” Hyunjin hissed, making you whimper instead. 

I’m going to die, no, I can’t die yet. I won’t allow them to kill me, I still have strays to feed, I want to get married and have kids, and I still need to meet the love of my life and grow old with them. Fuck, I’m going to die. I am being kidnapped and Mr. Fucking Hwang Hyunjin is absolutely unknown in my entire life. I am so dumb, so stupid letting my first kiss taken— You thought when you heard someone was calling. 

“Hyunjin, we’re being followed,” Felix said through the call as soon as Hyunjin accepted it and took a glance at his side mirror. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin said in frustration. 

“I’ll stall them, get on the freeway,” Felix said. 

“No, fuck! They know that Y/n’s here,” Hyunjin answered.  

“What are we going to do?” Felix asked, feeling anxious from the other line.

“Go back and get Changbin and Han,” Hyunjin said as you were listening to their conversation. The car ride is making you sicker and wants to puke, but Hyunjin’s car seems so expensive that you’re just trying to hold it in and yet it seems impossible. This is an unexpected turn of a Saturday night. 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll lead them astray, then,” Hyunjin said. 

“Fuck, alone?” Felix reacted.

“Just go, Felix!” Felix sighed heavily as he made a sudden U-turn making the following car halt in response. You stopped crying upon listening to their conversation and when Felix left, you could see how angry Hyunjin was. “You better hold on tight,” You heard him say when you are already holding on for your dear life. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!

He’s already violating traffic laws now with his friend and fuck, what’s the worse that could happen? Getting arrested or killed after being kidnapped? And the car following us is not even the cops. Forget about the damn kiss, this man is crazy!

“What’s happening?” You asked for the second time, tightening your grip on the seatbelt. 

“You’ll find out later,” He said as he made the car engine roar—speeding through an unknown road. 

You could feel how unusual the speed of his car was, it was faster than a few minutes ago. Vomiting would be the worst that could happen inside right now. Not in this expensive car, not in this expensive black dress that you bought from your favorite brand, not with this hair and makeup you’ve spent hours to make yourself presentable after 5 days of being stressed.

“Can I at least know where you’re taking me?” You asked, trying not to make puking sounds. “I think I’m getting sicker at this speed,” 

“Don’t you dare vomit in my car!” He exclaimed, trying to focus on the road and at the same time, glancing at his side mirror. The car is still there and Felix is nowhere to be found now. Hyunjin kept on taking turns and you’re getting sicker. In a few seconds, you won’t be able to hold it in. 

“Can you slow down a bit?” You begged but there’s no way Hyunjin is doing that. 

“Do you want to live or not?” Hyunjin hissed, hands tightening their grip on the wheel even more. 

“I want to if you won’t kill us,” You said, almost crying again. 

“I’m a skilled driver,” He argued. 

“I’m not doubting you,” You answered, shaking in fear and sickness. “But I would like to apologize in advance,” 

“What? Fuck—no!” Hyunjin exclaimed as he was too late. You already vomited on his mat— coughing after feeling like you were being choked. “Motherfucker! I told you not to let it out!” 

“But I suddenly feel better! Don’t worry, I’ll wash your car,” You said as you leaned back on the passenger’s seat leaving Hyunjin more frustrated. 

“Fuck,” He sighed as he continued driving at the same speed when suddenly a truck was heading through the go signal from the right side at full speed as well. It gave Hyunjin an idea that he made the clutch go forward as the engine roared even more, wanting to go through the stop signal. 

“Wait!” You exclaimed, followed by intense screaming while covering your face with your hands as Hyunjin stayed quiet, brows knitted together, hands tightened their grip on the wheel even more—speeding through the highway and the car that was following you, crashed on the truck making a loud impact as the cars lined up got delayed to go through the traffic. Your heart was beating faster—panting, as you sweat from all the vomiting and a reckless driver beside you. Thanks to them, you are probably getting sober from the series of events. “What the fuck was that?” 

“I told you I’m a skilled driver. But you have to clean my car tomorrow morning,” He said, sighing in relief as he glanced at his rearview mirror, watching the car burn as it stood still, glass shattered and crushed. 

“So I’m not going home, then?” You asked, watching him with those terrified eyes. 

“Do you think after what just happened I’ll let you go home? You vomited in my car, my brothers are out there trying to capture those who wanted to kill you, and I just saved your life from those bastards and that fucker at the party,” Hyunjin said, getting back on the car’s usual speed while loosening his tight grip. 

“Why do they want to kill me? And how did you know me?” You asked, being confused, to begin with in addition to fear and doubt.  

“Long story short, I was tasked to take you in because of your family affairs.” He answered. 

“Family affairs? I’m an orphan! Nobody came for me when I was at the orphanage!” Your exclaimed, brows knitted together.

“Y/n Jung, a publisher at Park’s Corporation, the daughter of Mr. F/n Jung and Ms. M/n Kim, the Godfather. Orphaned at the age of 5, was sent to ***** University and graduated Summa Cum Laude. You have lived alone since you were 18,” He said, making your eyes widen in shock. 

“Stalker much! How did you know?” You shouted, attempting to kick him. “And Godfather? What the fuck is that?”

“You are the only heir of the highest mafia leader who died years ago. Your relatives are coming to kill you so they can get your parents’ properties in all of Korea. That explains why they left you a great sum of money,” Hyunjin explained, which became too much for your sober brain to catch up and take in. 

“So you’re saying that I’m part of this gangster shit?” You laughed. “Dude, I barely even know my parents and my family background, and then someone like you just appeared out of nowhere, explaining this crazy stuff,” You answered, resting on the passenger’s seat like a stubborn little child. “I want to go home,” 

“You owe me and my car. My boss will kill me if I let you go,” Hyunjin argued but only sighed in response, just letting an unusual stranger earn your slight bit of trust. 

He knows you have so many questions at the moment and he’s not sure he can answer everything. That is why he is taking you to Chan’s enormous mansion at the mountaintop. The streetlights became rare the moment you entered the road by the cliff, nervous about what was going to happen shortly. It was dark—you didn’t even know what to feel. Being terrified is an understatement, you have no idea what you are going into. 

Hyunjin became quiet as soon as you stopped talking yet the disgusting smell aroused his irritation. He tried not to get upset with it since you were already on the premises. 

“Clean yourself before we see Chan,” You heard him say as you gave him a nod. Hyunjin parked his car and walked around it to open the door for you. 

“Thanks,” You said as you followed him inside. 

The stories you’ve read about these kinds of families weren’t exaggerating when writers say that Mafias are filthy rich with huge mansions, expensive cars and furniture, business booming here and there, and money coming and going. Being a bookworm and a movie lover helped. Your mouth gaped at the sight of the interior. It’s probably more expensive than you. But learning the fact that you’re an heiress made a small stretch on your net worth. Of course, if it’s not a prank or whatever. 

Your eyes wandered around the main living room through the hall and the stairs as Hyunjin led you inside his room. Even his room is bigger than your apartment. 

“Your clothes are placed on my bed, the bathroom’s on your left. I’ll be outside,” He said as you gave him a nod but before you could take a step away from him, you felt a hand wrapped around your wrist—pulling you closer. “Don’t even bother trying to escape,” 

“Even if I did, you’ll capture me eventually,” You said, rolling your eyes—unhanding yourself away by harshly removing your wrist from his large hand. 

“If you don’t want to be killed of course,” He smirked as he went out of the room. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the pajamas he prepared for you. 

“Is she here?” Seungmin asked the moment he saw Hyunjin standing outside his room. 

“Inside,” Hyunjin answered, motioning his head to the door. 

“Good,” Seungmin sighed in relief. “Felix said they’re on their way. They got the accomplices. Chan said they will be taken to the island tonight and you killed someone out there,” 

“I didn’t,” Hyunjin breathed. “The rest of them were following us, I have to make sure Y/n’s safe,” 

“I know,” Seungmin said. “You did well,” 

Thankfully, Hyunjin’s door wasn’t soundproof. You heard their conversation when you were about to knock. The sage green pajamas were comfy as they were made of silk, your hair was wet after taking a shower and the other products you used were immaculate. They must’ve prepared for your arrival that he already has those products aligned in his bathroom. 

You leaned closer to the door and knocked a few times just to make Hyunjin unlock it, making Seungmin intrigued to see you too. 

It took a while as you cleaned everything, making yourself sober up. This was a lesson not to drink a lot—you don’t even like drinking. You need to be presentable at least, but the aftertaste of champagne didn’t feel good staying inside your mouth. Yet this wasn’t that important to you right now as you have questions to ask and answers to collect.

“Hi,” Seungmin beamed. “I’m Seungmin, the family lawyer, nice to meet you Y/n,” He added, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You hesitated at first, but it seems like he’s a bit friendly. 

“Hi,” You said, giving him a quick smile and shaking his hand. He looks too cute to be part of this gangster family but at the same time, extremely attractive. 

“Let’s go see Chan now,” Hyunjin said as he walked away first with Seungmin gesturing his hand to follow the former as he stayed behind you. 

You have no idea who Chan is, and you get even more nervous that you are a few steps into meeting him. The information about your parents became unexpected because no one knew and no one even came to the orphanage to tell you anything. Not even your relatives who unfortunately don’t care about you and now want you dead. The idea led you to come with them to earn information and flee when you get the chance. Thoughts of escaping would be impossible at this point since you are being surrounded and watched. There are a lot of surveillance cameras from the gate to the mansion. It’s hard to find a blind spot. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin’s footsteps echoed through the hall while yours remained quiet because of the fluffy Cinnamon Roll slippers Hyunjin gave. It was almost cute but you remembered he kissed you without permission, hypothetically let the driver of that car who followed you, get into a terrible accident and shoot a man in the same night. May they rest in peace, in hell, if they deserve it. 

Your lips formed into a thin line as you walked downstairs, earning the attention of six other men—probably living in this house—especially that big, scary-looking man, sitting in the middle. You recognized Felix, and the two who were standing behind the couch he was sitting at were probably Han and Changbin. They’ve got cuts and bruises from all the trouble earlier. Damn. And the rest, you don’t know. 

Everyone stood up and faced you the moment you got down, Seungmin gestured to you to sit down on a single couch to begin the meeting but you couldn’t even move. You were intimidated and yet they bowed to show respect. 

What the fuck is happening? 

“Please don’t be scared, take a seat,” The man in the middle spoke. You were hesitating at first but eventually gave in. It’s too dangerous to provoke someone this scary. “I know you probably have a lot of questions about all of this, but before anything else, I would like to introduce this family. I’m Bang Chan, the boss. You just met Seungmin, our lawyer, Felix is our Intel, Han and Changbin are our Capos,” Chan said, then he immediately gestured to the next person. “Jeongin, my apprentice, Minho the consigliere and Hyunjin, our assassin,” 

“A-assassin?” You spoke. 

You were stunned by how everyone has a role in this family and yet remained confused. Eight men with acceptable roles in the family and the one who took you away is apparently an assassin. He could’ve killed you the first time. You were deceived by that handsome face of his but who knows what job he has? A fucking assassin. It keeps repeating in your head. 

“Uhm, not so nice to meet you,” You said, you mean it anyway. “I think I don’t need to say something about myself,” You added, taking a deep breath to avoid being nervous and scared. Everything feels off in the first place too. 

“You don’t need to. We know who you are,” Chan said as you sighed heavily, biting your lower lip. 

“Okay, why am I here?” You asked. “Hyunjin mentioned something about my late parents. Did you do a background check on me?” 

“Yes, it is part of our job,” Chan answered, gesturing to Seungmin to hand you a file. “He may have mentioned you being the sole heir of the Godfather, Mr. F/n Jung,” 

“That’s fucking absurd,” You retorted. 

“It’s the truth,” Chan said firmly. “Your relatives have been tracking you down for years, that explains what happened and why you’re brought here.  All information about you and your late parents is in there,” He added as Seungmin offered you a thick folder. Licking your lips—your hands reached for the folder and flipped a few pages. 

The first one you saw was your profile, next to that were papers from the orphanage—articles about the car crash and the insurance money, your university application, land and property ownerships being signed by your parents, contracts, and other confidential documents. It took you a while to skim and scan everything. It felt surreal as if your life was written in a book—the missing heiress of a freaking wealthy family of gangsters. And now, some unknown relatives are coming after you. 

“I really don’t know anything, and so what if they want to own my parents’ property, I don’t care at all,” You said, firmly. 

“That is not what we do, Y/n,” Chan retorted. “Loyalty is important to our family and you have a rank in the Jungs so either they will let you live to rule for them or kill you to take everything you’re supposed to own. Your parents built that empire so you could have a normal and comfortable life but they ended up being killed in the crash many years ago. It’s a miracle that you’re even alive,” 

Then it made you remember—the crash. Suddenly, a child’s voice echoed through your memory as the sounds of ambulances were all over the place. The front side of the car was crushed as you sat there crying with your head bleeding from the impact. You were taken to the hospital and later found out that your parents died before they could get them out of the car. A social worker and a lawyer came by to assess your papers and live in an orphanage. It was discussed that you can get the insurance money after you turn 18. It was enough to sustain you and yet, everything still felt bitter. Your life was never the same after that. Maybe your life got a little bit better after you moved out and lived on your own. Yet it became lonely and sad. Having a job doesn’t fix a broken heart either. Everything messes with your head. 

No one from your family visited you because of the hatred. The headmistress didn’t even help you that much and the other kids were getting foster parents except you. It was tragic. You didn’t know what was wrong and longed to have a family too. Maybe Chan is right about one thing, you’re lucky to be alive but instead of living happily out of it—the sunshine turned into rain and the light switched off to dark. It was sad knowing no one came to your graduation or any parent-teacher meetings, no one would sign school documents other than your landlord. It was a fucked up life for you to thrive on. 

Tears suddenly streamed down your cheeks while looking at Chan. Felix caught it immediately and passed the box of tissues. You were surprised by it that you didn’t hesitate to respond to his actions. Maybe these people are not bad after all or they’re just being polite. You wiped your tears after taking a few sheets and massaging your temples. Being sober doesn’t help to indulge such information but you are getting there. You don’t need to drink again in the future. 

“You think it’s a good miracle, huh? Do you think it’s good to be alive? After everything I’ve been through?!” You exclaimed standing up from your seat but they didn’t flinch a bit, except Felix. 

“This is not the place for you to be emotional,” That was a damn red flag to invalidate you. 

“Y/n, calm down, take a seat,” Felix said in his most gentle voice, handing you a glass of water. “Don’t worry, it’s pure, not poisoned,” He smiled like an angel in disguise. You sit down as you take the glass and drink it, still giving that glare to Chan who has no remorse plastered on his face. 

“You and Hyunjin will go to his guest house first thing in the morning. No one will be able to find you there,” Chan said. 

“What?” You asked, shocked by what Chan just answered. 

“We have to stay here because of the Jungs, but we’ll accompany you to the island tomorrow. Hyunjin needs his day off too,” Seungmin said.  

“Yeah, he will take care of you, but don’t worry, we will make sure no one finds you so call us when you need us,” Felix interrupted. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked. 

“They owe us big time, your family is the reason why our parents died. All of us,” Chan answered, which made you caught off guard. So you’re not alone after all. “My parents were second to yours, Ms. Jung. They’re the co-founder of this empire but after being betrayed and murdered along with the entire family, the kids were forced to grow up in a secluded mansion, trained and studied—chosen to continue their legacy.” He added as he stood up from his seat and walked slowly around you. 

“It was a hard life,” Felix butted in. 

“Hyunjin grew up to be a shooter so I hired him as my assassin. Seungmin studied law, and he became the family’s lawyer. Minho is my advisor, Han and Changbin were trained to fight, Felix became our intelligence because of his skills and Jeongin is still learning from me. I was forced to lead an empire, Y/n, the Jungs are the rats. You’re lucky you didn’t grow up in this environment or you are already long gone,” He said as you stayed quiet. “Your family has a debt to pay and a relative to kill. It’s either you want to go out there and be killed or stay here until we settle everything with them. Your choice,” 

“I don’t have a family,” You answered as you balled your fists in anger. 

“We know,” 

“How did you find me?” You asked. 

“Felix,” Chan answered. “We have connections so when we knew you were alive, I sent Felix to spy on you,” 

“Stalking is my job but legally,” Felix said with a sheepish smile plastered on his face making you sigh in response. 

“I guess I have nothing to tell you about myself,” You said. “But if you’re going to keep me locked up, what about my job? My apartment? My laptop? The stray cats and dogs I’m feeding?” 

“The strays were already taken to a shelter. Your apartment won’t be touched but we had to get a few things for you to use and of course, your laptop,” Seungmin answered. “We have someone to replace you for the meantime in your job. But don’t worry, Mr. Park works for Chan Hyung yet he cannot let you work for your privacy,” 

“Unbelievable,” You sighed. “You mentioned that I’m supposed to inherit everything they own as what these documents have stated and yet no one told me. I don’t know anything about bullshit and my so-called relatives are after me to kill me so they can name these properties and businesses under themselves. Why do they need to dispose of me when I don’t know anything?” You asked. 

“The last page is the will of your parents,” Seungmin answered. “It got notarized by my dad. Unfortunately, he passed not long ago after your parents did. The Jungs have copies of the will so to be able to take the properties, they will kill you first since you’re the first in line, second is your uncle, their temporary boss. As long as you’re alive, they won’t be able to touch it,” 

“What?” You reacted. This is way too much information to take. Your brain is foggy from all of that drink and you don’t know if taking a shower would make you feel a bit sane. 

“These documents belong to you now,” Seungmin said. “So please understand that we can’t let you go out there,” 

“Why are you helping me?” You asked—head hang low. 

“We know it’s shocking to hear all of this in one night, but you are a crucial target,” Minho said. “We used to live in harmony once,” You nodded in response. 

“So your parents used to work for them?” You asked, looking at them. 

“To the Godfather,” Minho nodded. 

“Fuck,” You hissed washing your face with your hands with the folder laying on your lap. 

“It’s already getting late, we will continue this conversation tomorrow,” Chan said out of nowhere, dismissing everyone as they left for their rooms while you remained in the living room with Hyunjin taking a seat on your right—sipping on his glass of whiskey. 

“You’re not sleeping yet?” He asked. 

“How could I?” You asked back. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” 

“I didn’t say yes to this plan either. But it’s my job and the moment I took you out of that party, you became my responsibility. Call me your babysitter,” He smirked while drinking. 

“Shut up,” You said, rolling your eyes. 

“Go sleep in my room, you had a long night,” He said, standing up from the couch as he shoved his hands inside his slacks’ pockets. 

“What about you?” You asked. 

“I’ll sleep with Seungmin,” He said casually. “Let’s go,” 

You couldn’t sleep a wink that night even though you had to leave first thing in the morning. It felt weird sleeping in a house full of men and laying on a king-sized bed owned by someone you just met. You admit he is handsome and all got mad driving skills and loves whiskey, which makes your heart leap. Not to mention the kiss. What a bastard. He’s not as what you thought he would be, although you are so guilty of vomiting in his car he has the very right to be upset. But the thing is, you’re being held hostage. You also have the very right to be mad. Yet at the same time, their reasons are valid to keep you here. It explains why Han and Changbin got beaten up when Felix arrived way back at the party. 

The bed is comfy after all and you have a lot of information to process at once. It’s unbelievable to have this kind of life being kept a secret from you for years. Damn family affairs. 

**

It was already morning when you were welcomed by a loud knock outside Hyunjin’s room. It made you groan in frustration as that was the reason why you woke up. You had to make your way towards the door and open it while half-asleep. Hyunjin’s face was the one that welcomed you outside causing you to be wide awake. You admit you fell in love at first last night but it didn’t last long when you knew he was taking you with him somewhere you didn’t know. And now, you’re here inside their mansion, inside his room and he is standing three feet in front of you between the door of his bedroom. 

“Good morning?” You said. 

“Get dressed and have breakfast downstairs, we’re leaving in 2 hours,” He said, handing you a set of clothes and a pair of shoes to wear before he left. 

“Fuck,” You said under your breath and hurried to do your new routine. You packed your backpack shoving your laptop, the folder, and some of the necessities the guys had prepared for you from last night. Obviously from your apartment, how did they manage to have these?

Hyunjin went downstairs and headed to the dining room where everyone settled in. You were left out for a bit and rushed down almost an hour after Hyunjin came by. Everyone looked at you wearing that white top with a gray cardigan and white slacks. They wouldn’t deny the fact that you’re pretty and it’s their first time having a woman in the house. Chan cleared his throat making Hyunjin snap out of his thoughts after staring at you. His thoughts remained unknown but he was captured by your beauty although you are stupid. Being drunk Y/n, explained it. 

“Take a seat, my dear,” You heard Chan say. Felix saw how amused Hyunjin was as he smirked, teasing the older one the moment you sat down on the empty seat beside him. “Eat,” 

“You sound like an old man, Hyung,” Seungmin butted in making everyone snicker. 

“Shut up Seungmin,” Chan retorted. 

“Thanks,” That’s all you could say in between the conversation. What an awkward situation to be dining with them. 

“Did you sleep well?” Seungmin asked, turning to you who was just sitting on the other side. 

“Not really,” You answered, taking a bite of your sandwich. 

“That’s normal,” He answered. “I hope you’ll get used to us being around, we can’t take being separated unless there’s an important matter,”

“Really?” You asked. 

“Yeah, we grew up together under one roof, we’re not blood-related but we treat each other like brothers, family to specific,” You heard Han say. 

“Good for you guys,” You said. “I was alone,” 

“You could be family—aww!” Felix exclaimed when Hyunjin smacked him. 

“Y/n’s not our family,” Hyunjin said grimly. 

That made you look down and eat in silence while the rest did the same. Chan obviously didn’t care, Minho couldn’t even look at you, Changbin and Jeongin didn’t bother talking to you, Hyunjin seemed cold, and only Seungmin, Felix, and Han were a bit warm. You couldn’t blame them for feeling that way but you’re innocent with all these family dramas going around. You tried to be friendly despite the situation, but they couldn’t trust you and the same goes for how you felt. 

Why on earth did the heavens give you this life? 

You left the mansion an hour after having breakfast as Hyunjin was driving you somewhere. It was a different car from last night. The boys were having a convoy with 4 cars, 2 in each and 3 in the last car. You settled beside Hyunjin a few minutes ago with your things at the back of his new car. He might’ve disposed of the one he used after the little incident happened. 

“Where’s your car?” You asked. 

“I left it,” He said. “The caretaker will clean it for me,”

“I thought I was supposed to clean it?” You asked again. 

“We don’t have time,” He said in his monotonous voice. 

“I’m sorry,” You said. “Can I do something to make it up to you, at least?” 

“Nothing,” He said, making you sigh. 

“Okay, why did you kiss me last night?” You asked. Oh, so you’re finally making a conversation right now? No one spoke about it, not even Felix who looked disgusted when he saw it. Maybe because they were too occupied last night—it slipped away from their minds. Hyunjin also got upset about how things turned out as if he didn’t call you some pet name. 

“Do you want to see that man being shot in front of you?” He asked. Well, he has a point. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it, you kissed me back,” 

“Because I thought I was finally getting a life,” You argued. 

“I’m not sorry about it,” He smirked. Motherfucker. 

Your eyes met the scenery outside as you were drowning in your sea of thoughts. The so-called abduction, the intoxicating kiss, relocating you to an island? What kind of fate is this?  But He’s right, you liked that kiss. It made your heart go insane, he kissed you like a lover who finally found the love of his life when it was supposed to be nothing but a kiss between fucking strangers and it’s making you crazy. A coincidence even. At first, it’s just crushing on a stranger who turns out to be an assassin. Stupid Y/n. 

Hyunjin continued to drive but took a few glances at your gloomy face, being reflected by the car’s window. 

“My guesthouse is on an island that Chan owns,” He said, earning back your attention. “One can get in or out by plane or yacht, we need to travel there by air,” 

“Chan must be rich huh,” 

“He’s the pillar of this empire after everyone got murdered. All the properties are named after him,” 

“Ah,” You nodded. 

“The island is secluded so no one except us can enter. The roads are limited so it’s hard to do car racing,” He added as you continued to nod. 

“You guys decide what my fate will be,” You said. “I have no family to worry about me so I can be dragged around, besides, you got my replacement at work,” 

“Are you that sad?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Of course, who wouldn’t? Imagine you’re a little kid who grew up alone with no one to look up to. Then one day she lived alone to thrive for herself, got a job years later, and got abducted, witnessed a murder, and a stranger stealing a kiss all in one night for the first time she ever decided to go to a party,” You huffed. “At least you have your brothers. I don’t have one with me,” 

Hyunjin shut his mouth after that. 

“Look, this isn’t my plan on spending my days off. I’m supposed to be in Colmar,” he said. 

“Well, I’m sorry to ruin your vacation. As if I expected to be with you in the first place when I should be sleeping in my apartment the whole day because I have work tomorrow,” You argued. 

Hyunjin gave up. 

After a while, everyone parked their cars by the airport as you followed Hyunjin to the private plane that was prepared for the departure. Your hair danced with the wind along with the excess of your clothes. The others followed and you’re being stuck with them again. It was awkward that you decided to sit at the back as they continued their conversation. Felix saw you alone while Hyunjin slept on the other row. A smile formed on his face and decided to take the seat beside you, hoping he’d feel welcomed. 

You were just waiting to depart as your eyes fixated through the window and didn’t even notice that Felix was already there. He didn’t bother to take your attention in the meantime and just sat quietly—taking a magazine and started to read while you looked outside, not until the flight attendant announced the take-off. 

“Hi,” You greeted. 

“Hi! I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” He said. 

“Not at all,” You smiled. “You’re probably the only one who wants to be my friend,” 

“Force of habit, since I tend to gather information about you,” He answered while fidgeting his fingers. “We’re about to take off and it will take an hour to arrive so get some rest—poke me when you need anything!” 

“I will,” You chuckled. He’s cute. Not long after, the private jet took off and you stared again through the window. “How long do we have to stay on the island?” You asked, not taking your eyes away from the scenery outside.

“It would depend on how long it would take for the Jungs to stop looking for you,” He answered. “All of us won’t be consistent on staying there, it’s just that Hyunjin is the best one who can protect you since he grew up being a shooter. It’s easy for him to kill someone. I mean, we all do, but he’s the best one,” He added as you finally looked at him. 

“That’s cool. I thought he’s just another reckless driver racing on the road,” You answered which made Felix chuckle. 

“I mean he’s a skilled driver,” Felix said, making a pause between your conversation. “The thing is, our job starting from now on is to go in and out of the island, except for Hyunjin, of course. He’ll stay with you. It’s his guesthouse anyway, and the rest of us will take off the Jungs,” He explained. 

“Isn’t it dangerous though? You’re risking your life for a mere stranger like me,” You said. 

“Like what Chan Hyung said, they owe us and we’re not doing this solely because of you,” Felix answered. “And once they find out that you’re with us, which is what they already know because of last night—I’m afraid that you’re not the only one on the murder list,” 

“That means…” 

“Me, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Han, Changbin hyung, Jeongin, Minho hyung and most especially, Chan hyung,” Felix said. “If he dies, what will happen to us? To you? And with everything that our parents have left us,” That statement made Felix look gloomy as if the sunshine hid behind the clouds to provide rain and you’re standing somewhere without a roof—letting the rainwater shower you. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” You sighed trying to hold back your tears as you leaned on your seat. It makes you feel a sense of guilt even though everything is still new. 

“It’s not your fault. What are you apologizing for?” Hyunjin said still not moving from his position—arms crossed on his chest, legs gapped—his head rested on his neck pillow with sunglasses on his eyes. 

“Don’t mind him,” Felix excused. “He even kissed you without permission so I’m sorry about that,” He added when you just gave him a sorry smile.

“I’m not sorry about that too!” Hyunjin butted in making Felix sigh before turning in his direction.

“You’re being a jerk,” Felix scolded him as Hyunjin rolled his eyes inside those expensive glasses.

It was a new sight the moment you stepped out of the private area and headed toward the mini-airport, specifically built for this island. The family is filthy rich that you cannot even comprehend how it works. From afar, they look like a normal bunch of businessmen working together to provide a better economy for people to work but once you enter the circle and observe them, they only serve one master—the boss who is the brain of everything. They fight for the good although they use violence and crimes just to have a peaceful atmosphere. Being involved with them came to be unexpected. From a normal, innocent human being to a wanted daughter of a late criminal lord. 

It is the season of summer and everything happens in the blink of an eye. The night changed too fast—not even 24 hours. That’s what everyone says, you don’t know what is going to happen in the future. All eyes darted on you and they’re all armed. Apart from the brothers, there were also guards walking along as you headed to cars prepared to head to Hyunjin’s guesthouse. It was a big island when you got an aerial view as it was separated from the outside world. You were assisted when you sat beside Hyunjin as he drove away. The island is obviously surrounded by water which would be harder to escape. They don’t need surveillance cameras anymore when you’re on the loose just to find you. No boats, and planes to be used—unless it’s urgent. 

Being surrounded by water is a genius idea since it is already summer. You have the freedom to explore around and maybe read by the shore if the guesthouse wouldn’t be too far from the sea. Another convoy was set to travel heading on the limited road Hyunjin was talking about. You didn’t even expect that the guesthouse would be enormous just like Chan’s mansion on the mountaintop. 

It was located a few meters from the shore—surrounded by trees and a garden with a small pavilion for afternoon tea, a swimming pool, and of course, high walls and gates. 

“This is your guesthouse?” You asked. “It seems like a real house,” 

“Let’s say this is a vacation house where I’m supposed to relax, away from all the chaos,” Hyunjin said. 

“You even had an outdoor shooting range a moment ago,” You added. 

“Chan Hyung had it built 2 years ago,” He said, parking the car as soon as it entered the guesthouse grounds. “Your things will be carried to your room so feel free to look around. Felix will attend to you in a bit,” 

“Okay,” You said, letting yourself out of his car as you watched him going to Chan. They walked inside the house as Felix remained with you. The latter was smiling until his ears made you awe. He’s the only sweet one around. A total ball of sunshine. 

When Chan and the rest of his brothers gathered in the main living room while discussing the terms and conditions with Hyunjin, Felix got busy touring you around like a professional tour guide yet you couldn’t help but notice the gun being displayed on his belt. Everyone has. 

“Why do you always carry that?” You asked as Felix stopped explaining some things when you got distracted. 

“Oh, it’s for emergencies,” He said as you walked around the guesthouse. 

And while you were occupied, Chan received a distress message written on his phone. Han was alerted that accomplices from last night were already lined up in the shooting range after they were brought to the island and needed confrontation. Hyunjin stood up immediately and left the premises as he hurried to the shooting range, not far from the house. Everyone followed him which caught your attention and Felix’s. 

“Emergencies like that, probably,” You heard him say. 

“What’s happening?” You asked when Han came. 

“Felix, Chan wants you there. Take Y/n with you,” He said and ran to catch up with the guys—leaving you confused. You followed Felix out from the gates and headed to where they were.  It didn’t even take 10 minutes of the tour and now you’re standing here with them with those unfamiliar faces kneeling down in front of the brothers. You hold on to Felix while watching them. Those men have bruises, obviously after being beaten up. Their hands were cuffed and blood was dripping from their heads. If this island is only for the brothers, why would they bring them here?

“Baby, come here,” Hyunjin suddenly said, to which everyone was caught off guard. He was gesturing to you as he reached out his hand—fingers motioning you to come closer. 

“Baby? What the fuck?” Seungmin said in disgust. 

Your heart started to beat faster—of course, you remembered Hyunjin became your crush for a few minutes during the party, kissed you, and killed some people. Now you are not surprised if he’s going to have another shooting activity. Everyone was quiet and next to him was Chan with a gun in his hand. The others stood on the side, waiting for something to happen. This family never fails to make surprises within the first 24 hours, especially Hyunjin. 

It is breathtaking to witness eight handsome brothers wearing formal attire—either black or white. Hyunjin was wearing all black, from his long-sleeved polo to his pants and belt, silver rings adorned his fingers, and a black bracelet. His ears were pierced. You didn’t even notice how good they looked on him the first time you laid your eyes on him during the party. The broad daylight caused you a thorough observation. He’s so damn attractive. 

You didn’t notice you were staring at him for a while now that he turned to you—lowering his Versace sunglasses, cocking his head. 

“Baby,” He called again. You placed your hand above his as he pulled you gently closer to him. “Now, look,” He added, wrapping his left arm around your waist while pulling out the gun hiding on his belt. 

“What?” You asked, turning your eyes to those men. 

“They are accomplices of the man who tried to assault you last night,”  He said. 

“Are you going to kill them too?” You asked, trembling under his touch. 

“You may want to cover your ears for this, love,” He whispered as his hand covered your eyes while yours came to cover your ears. 

“How did you get inside the Park’s Foundation?” Chan asked them. 

“That’s none of your business,” One of them spoke when a gunshot was heard making you flinch. Hyunjin made you turn around as if he was hugging you, again. You buried your face on his chest, hugging him tightly. 

One down. Three to go. 

“You will never make us speak about the Jungs,” Another one said. 

“I know you won’t. We don’t need anything from you,” Hyunjin said, cocking his gun before aiming it at the man’s forehead, making the man flinch in response. “I don’t like people who meddle with my business. She’s mine to take, motherfucker. Any last words? Any of you?” It seemed like Hyunjin was worked up but managed to keep his cool. 

“Fuck you, Wolves!” 

Hyunjin pulled the trigger as continuous loud gunshots were heard through the island. You flinched at the sound and wanted to walk away but you couldn’t move, again. The same scenario happened twice within the first 24 hours. Why would they want you here?

“Dispose of them,” Chan ordered. “Take Y/n back to the guesthouse. We’ll investigate further of this,” 

“Yes Sir,” 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, turning to you while removing his sunglasses as he felt you were shaking from what just happened. 

“Y-yeah,” You stuttered while holding his forearms for support. 

You admit that was cool of him but who the fuck would shoot people in broad daylight?! And Chan too?! You weren’t sure about the baby call sign but it made your heart leap. It was unexpected of him to say that you’re now confused about what kind of treatment you are getting from him. It’s either he’s concerned, hot-tempered, nonchalant hot motherfucker, or what. 

Hyunjin doesn’t understand how he feels about you. Maybe he felt sympathy because you had the same tragic stories to tell. You are one of his rare cases. Maybe the first when he is supposed to be out there killing someone—just like what happened a few minutes ago. Felix came to take you back to the guesthouse leaving him alone on the shooting range, watching the guards cleaning up the mess he just made. Seungmin patted his shoulder before walking away—following Chan back to the guest house. It wasn’t even 10 in the morning. 

“Tsk,” And at that moment, he left. 

“I hope you won’t hate us for what Hyunjin just did,” Felix said as he made you sit on your bed. 

“They probably deserve it,” You said, hanging your head low. 

“He does,” Felix smiled. “But hey, don’t worry, we’re doing this to protect you,” 

“I know,” You smiled bitterly. “It’s just that, I wasn’t expecting that my life would change in a snap. Everything is new to me,” 

“I know,” Felix answered. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m not, I’m scared,” You sniffed, hugging your knees closer to your chest as Felix sat in front of you. 

“I apologize for making you witness everything of this,” He sighed. “We can’t do anything about it, Y/n. If anything happens to you, this rivalry will continue to grow,” 

“I know,” You cried. “Hyunjin and Chan don’t need to show me. I mean, I didn’t see anything but it’s scaring me,” Felix saw you shaking at that moment and hugged you immediately trying to calm you down. 

“It won’t happen again,” He added, hugging you tighter. “You should take some rest, my brothers and I are heading back to Seoul after lunch,” 

“What? I thought you were staying for a few days?” You asked, looking at him. 

“Can’t,” Felix smiled. ���You saw what Hyunjin did right? We’ll do the same once we get back to Seoul. The Jungs are making offenses now so we better do something. Those men were brought here to be punished. Don’t worry, Hyunjin will take care of you and there are a lot of guards around. We’ll be back soon to check up on you,” 

And so, they did. You hugged Felix tightly before he could get into the private jet. Such a shame that you didn’t get to spend some time with him when he’s only the one who made you feel welcome and comfortable. The others didn’t seem to grow on you at the time and left after saying goodbyes and reassured that they’d come back. Jeongin didn’t say a word to you ever since you came—even Changbin. 

“They don’t like me that much, right?” You asked Hyunjin as you stood together far away from the runway. 

“You can’t force someone to like a person who you just met,” Hyunjin answered with his hands in his pockets, watching the jet take off. “But Felix is already fond of you and maybe Seungmin,” He added and waited for the jet to disappear from your sight. You made sure you waved at them goodbye even if they wouldn’t be able to see that anymore and Hyunjin was assumed. “Let’s go,” 

“Will you kill someone again?” You asked making Hyunjin to stop when he was about to leave. 

“Not unless someone we don’t know comes in here, or a traitor,” He said as if it were nothing. Well, he’s an assassin for a reason. 

“You scared me back there, and last night,” You said, making Hyunjin turn to face you. 

“It is my job,” He said. “I do what I am asked to do. Don’t tell me you’re thinking that I’ll kill you too?” 

“No!” You answered immediately. “Just… just don’t drag me again when you shoot someone. Even if you ask me to turn around, I don’t want to be in the actual scene,” 

“I can’t promise you that,” He said. “You won’t survive alone unless you know how to use a gun to protect yourself,” And with that, he started to walk away leaving you sniffing on the verge of tears. 

**

You stayed inside your room during the early days ever since you got here. Hyunjin only sees you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner and then you disappear. He often spends his time at the shooting range—still practicing his skills (you could hear them) or sometimes you see him taking a stroll by the shore alone, from your bedroom’s window. It felt like living with a stranger. Which it is, to begin with. You don’t talk a lot, no Hi’s and Hellos, Good mornings and Goodnights, just a single nod and silence. 

How could you talk to him again when you dislike him? After all that happened and he’s being a bitch sometimes. You can’t understand him either. 

Hyunjin didn’t even wonder why it felt like you were his prisoner who voluntarily locks themself inside when you’re allowed to walk around. Of course, he knew how you feel about him. One apology wouldn’t heal your trauma. 

It felt lonely for him—it felt different way back to how he was living with his brothers in Seoul. But he asked for a vacation and this is it, minus the fact that he has to watch over you and you’re not amused with the situation. No WiFi, just old movies being downloaded that are on repeat, no calls and messages, except for Hyunjin, and just a bunch of books being piled in your room, some are found in the main living room. It’s like spending your summer at a summer camp where you’re supposed to reconnect with nature but the difference is, you’re always inside your room and living with a skilled assassin. 

Your phone is useless, your laptop is useless, and you are helpless. Sleeping is not an option anymore. You are bored and you are fighting the urge to speak to someone. You can’t even trust the staff working around here, how come you think about Hyunjin?

It was a Friday afternoon when you decided to drag yourself out of that prison and made your way toward the gate—heading to the shore. You were wearing a canary long-sleeved polo and beige shorts as you walked barefoot with a book in your hand. Unbeknownst to your presence, Hyunjin was walking at a distance. You sat on a small bench letting the gentle sunset warm up your skin and provide the bright rays to let you read. It is just a random book that caught your attention while walking around the house this morning. 

You started to read while crossing your legs, letting the wind play with your hair as you flipped the pages. Words to words, sentences to paragraphs, chapters to chapters. Hyunjin saw you at that time and just walked past by. And the same scenario keeps on happening every other afternoon until one Wednesday afternoon, he finally sat down beside you—making you startled. 

“Is that book entertaining?” He asked. 

“Barely,” You sighed. “There’s nothing much I can do around the house,” 

“For you, but I’m happy I’m here,” He said. “A break that I need,” 

“Good for you,” You sighed again. “Why are you talking to me?” 

“Because I’m bored?” He asked, being unsure. 

“You? Bored? Beats me,” You scoffed. 

“I am,” Hyunjin answered, rolling his eyes. “You’re bored, are you?” He asked. 

“Obviously,” You answered, closing the book. “I don’t spend my free time that well without an internet connection,” 

“Had to cut it off so they won’t find you,” Hyunjin answered. 

“I know,” You said, looking at the calm waves crashing on the shore. “Those men you shot the other day, what was their motive?” 

“They work for the Jungs. The man at the party was a spy. They probably shared your profile with everyone so they’d find you easily,” He started. “They were brought here after it was revealed that they’re the rats and came to the party with him,” 

“You were showing off when you killed them by the way,” You said which made him chuckle in response. “And if I didn’t know what you do, I would have sued you when I get out of here. You even called me Baby and kissed me. It made my heart leap. You shouldn’t do that,” 

“Oh, I did?” He smirked. “I just don’t like my property being touched by anyone else,” It made you want to jump into the water. How could he say that just like that?

“I’m not your property,” You hissed. “I am my own person,” 

“Baby, as long as you’re here, you are labeled as mine,” He said without removing that fucking attractive smirk on his face before leaving you alone and walking back to the gate. “Don’t stay out late, sweetheart,” He winked before he could even go in. 

“What a jerk,” You said under your breath—being a blushing mess. 

Dinner happened quietly as you sat across from each other. Only the steak knife, spoon, and fork were forced to make sounds along with the glasses being half-filled with wine. You tried to focus on your food and yet Hyunjin’s facial features made you take glances at him. It was hard not to look at him—remembering the fact that you find him attractive, that actually became the case. The crush thing wasn’t that serious—it only faded after it occurred. 

Hyunjin pretended as if he didn’t notice how you looked at him and when he caught you staring, you’d look away. He smiled to himself while munching his food while your head hung low. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I’ve seen them,” You answered, shoving a piece of steak in your mouth. 

“All of them?” He asked, being amused. 

“There are only a dozen,” You said. “I can watch 4-5 movies a day,” 

“I guess it’s true that you’re a home buddy,” He chuckled. 

“I am,” You answered. “There’s nothing for me to watch anymore,” 

“A night stroll?” 

“Too cold,” 

“Read a book?” 

“I just finished a trilogy, I’m tired,” 

“Sleep?” 

“Hyunjin, I don’t have anything to do the whole day, what makes you think that I won’t sleep if I’m not reading?” 

Hyunjin eventually gave up.

“What do you want to do then?” He asked. 

“I don’t know…” You answered, making Hyunjin sigh. 

“Alright, we’ll figure out what else we can do,” Hyunjin said then it made you notice a sudden change of attitude.

“You know what scares me more?” You asked. 

“What?”

“I know you murder people as a job, and that scares me, but you being hospitable and nice, scares me more,” You said, leaning onto the table and making him laugh. That’s unexpected, he’s cute. His eyes disappear as his mouth opens to laugh. He’s like a laughing weasel, but louder. 

“I’m not a bad person, Y/n,” He said. “I don’t do shits without a valid reason, I kill criminals. Not civilians. If I’d been careless, I would die without a gun,” You didn’t say anything after that, but you thanked him for dinner, and just like any other night, you went back to your room. 

It started raining a few moments after you got inside your room. It’s the first time you have ever experienced such a phenomenon and it’s scaring you too. It was unexpected to rain that night with thunder and lightning—they were all visible from your window, knowing that you were facing the ocean. The curtains don’t help to turn a blind eye out of it. You can’t even sleep, not even a blink. It was also cold despite your navy blue long-sleeved pajamas. 

Meanwhile, Hyunjin settled in his room, finishing the bottle of wine from dinner while scrolling through his phone—the data is only limited for him and does not let you know his connection to the outside world. It’s better to be safe than sorry. 

Emails kept on flooding his inbox, some came from his brothers and others were invitations to parties. There’s one of them where his presence is a must. But that doesn’t take place in two weeks. Who knows what will happen before the party? He doesn’t even know how to entertain you after all that happened during the past few days. And just like how you felt, you are strangers living under the same roof because of your family affairs. 

Hyunjin sighed in defeat as he placed his phone along with his glass on the side table, preparing to sleep—not minding the roaring sounds from the sky when he heard a knock on his door. You are terrified of the storm and can barely sleep. Having the lights on doesn’t help when the loud sounds of thunder make you flinch underneath the duvet. You don’t usually feel like this when you are still living in the city but being placed into a new environment makes it hard to adjust. Especially when they sound like the shots being fired. 

“Come in!” You heard Hyunjin say. 

It was also a hard decision. No one in this house can be trusted and the maids and other staff were dismissed after 8 p.m. He’s the only choice. You hesitated to go in, but you heard him—he’s probably waiting and not expecting you to be there. Either way, you opened the door with a pillow in one hand as you entered his room, feeling embarrassed and awkward. 

“What do you want?” He asked as you hesitated to speak up—biting your lower lip, Hyunjin saw the pillow in your left hand and landed his gaze on your face, waiting to say something. “What?” He asked. 

“C-can I sleep with you?” You asked as you felt your cheeks burning. Hyunjin stares at you for a few seconds before the thought of it sinks in which makes him smirk. You realized he was wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants. His collarbones were highly visible, hair disheveled for what reason? And that broad shoulders, damn—his arms made you want to experience being head locked. “I can’t sleep with the storm outside,” You added, trying not to be distracted. 

“Are you checking me out?” He asked, making you shake your head violently. 

“Deny it all you want. I can tell that you’re lying,” He said, cocking his head. 

“Okay!” You exclaimed. “I was,” You sighed in defeat as Hyunjin scoffed. 

“Come here baby,” He said, motioning his head—lifting his duvet for you to slide in. 

“Don’t call me baby!” You hissed at him. 

“Then, I won’t let you sleep with me,” He said, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“No! Wait,” You said. “Just tonight though,” 

“Just lay down,” He ordered as you slipped in under his covers—hugging your pillow with your body facing him. 

His bed smells like him. That strong intoxicating perfume he had at the party and the one he had the moment you arrived here. It’s kind of soothing. 

“Don’t mind me and just go to sleep,” You said but there’s no way that Hyunjin’s going to ignore you. “Good night,” You added, shutting your eyes—covering your face lightly with the pillow. 

“Good night,” Hyunjin said. 

He won’t be able to sleep for a while. 

**

Morning came as the gentle sunlight peeked through Hyunjin’s window. It woke you up as you were lying a meter beside the window—fluttering your eyes open as you made a small stretch. The pillow you had last night was already lying on the floor and you found Hyunjin’s body facing you. Your hand landed on your chest, clutching it to stop your heart from racing. He looks innocent when he sleeps, like an angel—half of his face is buried in his soft pillow, like a dumpling being squished. A handsome and cute young man, with a great body, veiny arms, and a tattoo on his right arm. A wolf’s head? 

The sunlight touched his skin which gave you a more detailed observation of his features. He looked so good up this close. You wondered if he ever dated anyone. It’s probably hard and dangerous, knowing his career at that. 

You sat up slowly trying not to wake him up. The sunlight was directed to his face which made you lift your hand a bit higher to cover him. Your eyes didn’t leave him and continued to stare, not like a creep, but someone who is mesmerized by his ethereal beauty. His plump lips that you want to kiss—shut up Y/n. You already got to taste his lips. Fuck. His long bangs resting on his cheek down to the bridge of his nose—your fingers gently pushed the strands behind his ears. Hyunjin felt as if he was just pretending to be asleep. 

“You’re beautiful,” You said softly. 

“I know, right?” He said in his morning voice. Fucking deep, and hoarse. “Don’t lie when I ask you if you’re checking me out,” 

“I’m not,” You denied, cheeks burning from the sight and feeling. Hyunjin opened his eyes and sat up. 

“I said, don’t lie,” He answered. 

“I said, I’m not,” You denied again making him look at you and leaned closer, whispering something to your ear.

“You’re a bad liar,” He said and walked straight to the bathroom leaving you dumbfounded and red. Meanwhile, he heard the door shut when he was about to take a shower. It made him smile to himself. Cute. 

A few moments later, he found you eating alone at the dining table. A chicken sandwich and a glass of milk—it is a luxury. Hyunjin came in his white robe with his hair still soaked from the shower. It almost made you choke on your food—but okay. 

“You’re not going out today?” You asked him. 

“Good morning, Y/n,” He said, walking past you—settling down on the seat from the other side of the table.

“Good morning,” You replied with a mouth full of bread. “So are you going out or not?”

“Not this morning,” He answered, taking a bite of his food. “Why? Do you want me to leave?” 

“No. I’m lonely and you’re literally the only person I talk to,” You said, taking a sip of your milk. 

“I’m taking the cabin cruiser this afternoon. Want to join me?” He asked. 

“You have a mini yacht?” You asked, amused at how rich this family is. 

“Of course, Minho Hyung lent it to me,” He said as if it was nothing. 

“Can I go? Pretty please? I’ve never been on one,” You asked again with puppy eyes and pouty lips. Hyunjin looked so done with the expression and made a side-eye. But he doesn’t want to be bitch so there he goes. 

“Sure, you might die if I leave you,” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes in response. 

**

The afternoon sunset is the most beautiful scene on this island. It is breathtaking that you never get tired of looking at it every day. You barely witness this kind of phenomenon knowing that you work like a dog during the weekdays and sleep on your days off. It’s a waste of being alive not to enjoy the life of being an actual adult. 

It is indeed a nice place to spend your summer with a book in hand while in the middle of the sea and going with Hyunjin could be one of the best times you’ll ever have. You don’t know the rest and you’re not expecting anything good after that. He already hopped inside the cabin cruiser as you were assisted by one of the bodyguards. He said it will only be you and him to the sea while they wait by the shore. 

The wind got stronger when you settled inside as Hyunjin was driving it. Black high-waisted shorts and a white polo top, brown sandals, and sunglasses on the crown of your head—Hyunjin thought you were cute but he didn’t need to say that. You sat down at the back, admiring the view while feeling the summer breeze. It was a delicate warmth that touched your skin as it boosted your serotonin—almost making you decide not to leave. 

“Are you in for a swim?” Hyunjin asked. 

“No! I can’t swim!” You answered. 

“What a bummer!” He said. 

“I know!” 

Not after a while, you felt the boat stop in the middle of the sea as Hyunjin made his way toward the deck. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, standing up from your seat—taking your small bag (which holds your sunblock and an unfinished book). 

“Swimming,” He said and started unbuttoning his blue-striped polo. You had to look away before attempting to climb on deck. “Are you sure you won’t join me?” 

“Hyunjin, if I knew how to swim then I would,” You answered. 

“Suit yourself,” He said before jumping into the water as you climbed up—taking a seat on deck catching him rising above water while wiping his face. “The water is so nice! You’re missing out!” 

“I’m fine right here!” You defended, taking the book out from your bag and started to read, not minding how long he’d take to swim the entire ocean if he wanted to. 

He caught you taking glances at him as he swam around the boat while you were trying to read. The wind kept blowing your hair away as the book flipped its pages on its own. Your head hangs low as you avoid any eye contact Hyunjin would randomly give each time he rises—running his hands, brushing his hair upwards. Which is hot, especially with that body—that washboard abs being molded by the heavens—damn you Hwang Hyunjin. He never fails to make you blush. 

You managed to read a chapter without getting distracted but were surprised when Hyunjin decided to get back up through the swim platform, heading to the deck. He was soaked and droplets of water from his clothes and hair were making you wet, including the pages of the book. You tsked at the sight of it as he picked up his shirt with a towel at hand before sitting down next to the empty spot beside you while drying his hair. 

“You smell like seaweed,” You said. “Had enough of the ocean?” 

“It was just a quick swim,” He defended. 

“I read an entire chapter so it was quite a while,” You shrugged. “Thanks for asking me to join you by the way. I could’ve died in boredom back there,” 

“You’re welcome,” He smiled for the first time which made your heart warm. 

You didn’t know what to say after that and just let him dry his hair, not minding how he kept sprinkling seawater on you. But some things were bothering you at that very moment—his tattoo and the gang war that is currently happening. You haven’t heard from his brothers for a week now and you’re worried. Maybe Hyunjin still have connections with them but at the same time, you don’t have any contact with the outside world. You don’t know what’s going on as you sit there, watching the sunset. 

Hyunjin didn’t say a word too but he kept on making noises about how bad the seawater affected the smoothness of his hair. It became frizzy after all the salt it consumed. He hasn’t changed his clothes either and is still topless. You shoved the book back into your bag, putting it away as you sighed—eyes wandering around the horizon. Such a beautiful view. 

“Can I ask you something?” You started. 

“Hmm?” Hyunjin hummed in response. 

“What’s going to happen to me after you get rid of the Jungs?” You asked, looking at him as he stopped drying his hair. 

“That would depend on you,” He answered. “We kept you heir to continue the legacy and when everyone’s gone, it’s either you give everything your parents left behind to us and forget about this, or be part of us.” He added as you sighed heavily—looking back at the horizon. “It’s a hard decision since we dropped a bomb on you but still, it’s in your hands,” 

“Seems like a big responsibility, Hyunjin,” You answered. 

“You have a lot of time to decide, Y/n. It doesn’t matter how long,” Hyunjin smiled. 

“I wish someone told me sooner,” You sighed. “What about that tattoo on your left arm,” 

“Ah, this?” He chuckled, showing you a wolf’s head as if it was howling—imprinted on his forearm. “It’s an emblem. All of my brothers have one. We identify as Wolves since we don’t share the same surnames. It’s Chan Hyung’s favorite animal,” 

“Oh, so that’s why those men you killed called you Wolves?” You asked as he nodded in response. “You guys are cool,” 

“You think so?” He chuckled. 

“Yeah, and the other clan is simply Jungs. Basic,” You shrugged. “Did your brothers tell anything that they’re visiting?”

“Not yet, they’re busy,” Hyunjin sighed. “So it will be just you and me on this island for quite some time,” 

“That’s fine. I just hope they’re okay,” You smiled before standing up to get a closer look at the water. Hyunjin followed you, peeking down below where the anchor was. Then, an idea came into his mind where he playfully tried to push you off the railings making you squeal in shock, but his arms were wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. “Hey! That’s not funny,” You scolded as he laughed in response. 

“Your reaction was so cute,” He said making your cheeks heat up. 

“Was it?” You chuckled in response. “I would kill you if I fell,” 

“You won’t,” He said. 

“Oh yeah? Try me,” You smirked as Hyunjin let you go and started chasing you around, laughing at each other when you slipped because of the excess seawater he brought after swimming and fell. 

“Y/n! Fuck!” He hissed under his breath and dived in while you were trying to keep your head above water with your arms splashing and flapping around. Hyunjin caught you with one of his arms as the other one made the effort to take you to the swim platform at the back of the cabin cruiser. You were out of breath when Hyunjin took you out of the water—coughing in between. “Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry,” He said being worried as fuck. He didn’t mean to. 

“I’m fine,” You coughed, taking a seat as he sighed harshly. 

“I’m sorry,” He said taking an extra towel to wrap around your wet body. 

“It’s fine, Hyunjin, stop it,” You said, hugging yourself. “Thanks,” Hyunjin sighed again and sat beside you—taking all the strands of hair that were covering your face. You were watching him do it, not realizing you were staring at his lips and remembered how they felt when they were on yours. It was an intoxicating one. You gulped at the thought. He was also drying your hair, slowly twisting the water out of it when his eyes caught where you were looking at. 

“Y/n,” He called but you didn’t budge. You were too focused on how his lips quiver when he is worried and how they move when he speaks. “Y/n!” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, coming back to him. 

“Did the seawater clog your ears?” He chuckled. “You were staring,” 

“I’m sorry,” You said as a smirk painted on his lips. You felt his hands on your cheeks as he looked into your eyes, slowly leaning closer which made you freeze on your spot—closing your eyes just in case he’d kiss you. Your heart is racing again. What is happening to you? But instead of expecting a kiss, you heard him laugh instead, making you push him away. 

“Don’t tease me like that,” You sighed, not until he moved closer crashing his lips onto yours. 

Your hand reached his jaw as your thumb started caressing his cheek while you felt his right arm pulling you closer to his body. The kiss was so hot and intimate that you forgot about falling from the cabin cruiser and as Hyunjin deepened the kiss with your lips molding together, and your arms were already around his neck. Your bodies were pressed together—his plump lips were soft and warm, just like the first time but without the alcohol leaving an aftertaste. Your lips parted slowly allowing his tongue to slip in as your noses brushed against each other while tilting your head to the sides. Your heart never stopped racing. 

Hyunjin felt weird. It wasn’t like this during the first time. That kiss was sudden and no lingering feelings unlike what you have right now. Maybe it was how you opened up to him slowly the puppy eyes you showed this morning, or the fact that he once kissed you and that he couldn’t take you out of his mind even though he shouldn’t be feeling any emotions after that. He finds you attractive, that’s a plus—or was it the way you hugged him when you got sacred or the fact that you buried your face against his chest and hugged him while you were sleeping which you are not aware of? Or maybe that time when he woke up first and stared at you this morning and the other day when you slept in his room during the first night. It can be the way you looked at the party or how stupid you were when you got drunk, blabbering nonsense inside his car. He’s confused. 

He felt his heart racing too as you hugged him tightly, not knowing how many seconds that have passed when your lips were against each other. It was filled with astonishment for the both of you but it felt more than that, not until you pulled away for some air—leaving you all red and hot. Hyunjin was left hanging as he looked away. He thought it was a good move the second time. 

“I-I’m gonna go and change,” You said and was about to stand up when Hyunjin grabbed your wrist.

“You didn’t bring any clothes,” You heard him say. Stupid!

“Right,” You said, looking at his large hand, wrapped around your wrist. “Can you let go now? Dry yourself,” 

“I hope that kiss won’t change anything,” He said as you stood there. 

“I will,” You said. 

“What?” He asked, looking up at you. 

“My feelings,” You answered as Hyunjin finally stood up. “You did it the second time without warning,” 

“And that’s a problem?” He asked. Bitch. 

“The first one was,” You argued. “I mean…” 

“You mean what, do you like me?” He asked, grabbing your shoulders for you to look at him. 

“You need to try harder,” You said, locking eyes with him. 

“So am I allowed to kiss you even without permission?” He asked again, brushing some strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“You did them anyway,” You answered. “But I’m still not sure about how I feel about you. I’m still scared, Hyunjin,” 

“Y/n, you can trust me,” He argued. 

“I know that!” You sighed. “But let’s take a raincheck, shall we?” 

“I can wait,” He said, letting you go, and left for the wheel to take you two back to the island.

The awkward atmosphere came back as you two became distant again. It feels the same during the first days you lived together but with the knowledge that you two are interested yet unsure about each other’s feelings. Hyunjin came back to his usual routine by being in shooting range while you stayed by the shore every afternoon to read. No words were exchanged, just glances and awkward dinners. Yet, it wasn’t long enough that another storm came that one night. This time, more terrifying. The trauma that the brothers have left you didn’t go away even if Hyunjin was able to get inside your walls and be friends with you (with a kiss as a tip). 

You found yourself outside his room again, knocking on his door with a pillow in hand. Hyunjin didn’t even expect a lot of you to come here after what happened yet it seemed like the storm was getting inside your head. You couldn’t sleep—you couldn’t sleep properly ever since what happened at the cabin cruiser. It’s hard to go to sleep when your heart is racing, your cheeks burning, and having an unsure situationship with Hwang Hyunjin. 

He became vulnerable ever since he saw you that evening and it became worse when you slept with him, much worse when you kissed, and now this. 

He was wearing a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up onto his shoulders showing his muscular arms and black shorts. His black hair was messy and his eyes were tired from not being able to sleep during the past nights. Same reason though, but with more feelings. He forgot about himself being an assassin but a lover boy. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked as he stared at you, wearing that white long dress and barefooted. 

“Yes,” You said softly, closing the door behind you. 

“Lay down,” He answered, cocking his head to the empty spot beside him. 

You walked slowly as you reached his bed, lifting the thick duvet—slipping inside, and laid down beside him. Hyunjin just watched you move as he stayed still on his spot—sitting on his side of the bed. The wind is cold as it enters through his window being left ajar. His room was dim and only the two lamps from each side of the bed were the ones switched on. Still, you could see his handsome features which you thought were perfectly molded by the gods. A son of Aphrodite with a great body, almost like Poseidon. His eyes fixated on you as you were looking back at him. 

Nobody said a word—he wanted to, but nothing came out of his mouth. He became different. So different from the first time you met. He was a man who curses a lot and was hot-tempered, now he’s quiet and distant. This island is supposed to bring you two closer, that’s what you thought after being stuck here with him. But the thing is, the brothers brought you here to protect you—not seducing Hyunjin.

You weren’t used to it and that fucking kisses you shared were special—you thought about it a lot. It was immaculate, one of a kind. He’s a good kisser to be exact. It was out of the plan that you two should fall in love. But after days of having to deal with each other’s presence, apparently, you two grew closer. You just don’t know how to continue this relationship by ignoring the changes in the atmosphere. 

“Have you dated anyone?” You asked. That was a stupid question. Really? That’s the first thing you’re going to ask him? 

“Hmm, maybe when I was in college but it didn’t work out,” He said. “Nothing worked out, it’s too crucial for my job,” 

“So you’ve been doing this since then?” 

“Since I turned 20,” He said. “Not really long ago. Why do you ask?” 

“Nothing, just curious,” You answered as he laid down, covering his body with the duvet—facing you. “Were you sad?” 

“No,” He said, not breaking eye contact. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea and I’m waiting for you,” He added, reaching out his hand to caress your hair. 

“I gave it a thought,” You said softly while watching him. “I like you is an understatement. Everything happened so fast and I’m not sure if I’m being valid or not. You fall in love with strangers even without knowing their names, you hook up with someone you just met because you have a lot of feelings, and you’re reckless with someone you don’t know so why does it feel like you’re in a rush within two weeks of getting to know each other after you kissed?” Then Hyunjin stopped as a smile formed on his face. 

“Do you want it that way?” He asked. “Rushed?” You shake your head in response. 

“I want to date you, so bad,” You told him. “I’ve been lonely for a very long time and spending time with you made it bearable. I’m not used to having someone around and I’m not sure how to handle these feelings. I don’t care if you kill people for a job, you make me feel important even if it’s part of your job too,” You added as he watched your lips quiver as if you were confessing under the influence of alcohol. “I’m a newbie in everything, I don’t know how to have fun. I hope you don’t find me weird, I am stupid I know that but I’m thankful that you managed to put up with my shit the first time we met. I used to think you’re a jerk but you ended up being a different person to me and yet you’re still that Hyunjin I had a crush on that night of the party,” Then, his smile grew bigger as he started feeling giddy about it. He leaned closer to kiss your forehead which lasted for a few seconds as he pulled you closer to his body—hugging you tight. 

“Let’s not rush, baby,” He said as you buried your face on his neck. “But things will work out for us, I promise,” He added, kissing your temple. 

“You won’t let yourself be in danger because of me, right?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“I’m here to protect you, okay? Nothing will happen as long as I’m with you,” He reassured which made you a bit emotional. 

Getting attached to him in a short period is between a mistake and a good choice. Letting your guard down was easy but having to think about the consequences of this situation, you will either cry or suffer. No positive outcomes. 

“Just… don’t die,” You said, making him laugh in response. 

“I won’t,” He said as he gave you a peck on the lips. “I will kill them first,” It tugged a smile on your face. 

Who knew that someone you once thought a jerk and a murderer became dear and precious to your heart? 

** 

Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer than ever. You’d take a stroll by the shore before sunset and throw stones—the person who gets to throw the shortest distance gets to be flicked on the forehead. He would hold your hand—interlocking your fingers together as you swing them back and forth while taking a stroll by the shore on a sunny afternoon. Kicking sand, building sandcastles, or just talking with wine and whiskey for a picnic as you watch the sunset together. 

Sometimes he’d join you reading under the shade of a large tree in the garden where he lays his head on your lap as you read. There were also times when he would trash his space a meter away just to paint you while you were reading—or if you two got bored, he’d invite you to the shooting range trying to teach you how to use a pistol. 

“Focus on the target!” He’d say as you were standing meters away from the shooting target. “If you manage to shoot the red spot over there, then you’re almost like me,” 

It was fun—dangerous even. You were unsure about the idea but Hyunjin was persistent to teach you. He offered earmuffs and ballistic glasses for you to use. Your hands were shaking as the bullets hit the spots far from the red spot he’s been talking about. 

“Not that, Y/n,” He sighed. Hyunjin already taught you how to disassemble and assemble the pistol, and also elaborated on the parts, how many bullets to fit in, and how to reload. Now you’re here as he stood behind you—arms aligned with yours as he held your hands to take them into the right position. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he instructed you what to do and you tried not to get distracted by it. “Focus, love,” 

“I will if you’re not breathing on my neck,” You said. 

“You’ll get more than me just breathing on your neck when you do a good job,” He answered. “Now look at the target and shoot,” Then suddenly, continuous sounds of shots being fired were heard through the island. Even the birds flew away from the trees in disruption. His lessons lasted for days until you were able to shoot the red spot in the middle. A kiss would do as a reward. 

You’ve spent your days without the thought of what was actually going on. You forgot why you were sent here and being with Hyunjin felt like you’re finally having a life out of work. You didn’t mind watching the movies being piled on the coffee table all over again as the two of you would cuddle on the couch, laughing and crying from the same plot. I’d take you until 4 am and fall asleep in each other’s arms. He didn’t mind them at all—in fact, he enjoys his time being with you—which he is, in the first place. 

Kisses were given at random times. 

A peck on the lips when you wake up and before going to sleep—you two sleep together in his room now. He’d kiss your forehead when you fall asleep while watching a movie as he caresses your hair—staring at you as if you’re the most precious treasure in his life. Long kisses when you sit on his lap while you are talking about how your life was crazy as he’d stare at your lips moving nonstop—a hand on your waist as he tackled you down, hovering above you as he presses his lips onto yours, feeling his hot breath and tasting the recent drink he had. Bodies pressed together with your hand around his nape—his tongue pressed on your slightly parted lips leaving ticklish licks making you giggle in between, hearts racing and adrenaline rush. 

It came naturally. 

“Let’s not rush,” That’s what he said. It was crystal clear but you are acting like a couple during the early phase of a relationship. But that didn’t matter to you anymore. It felt rushed, that’s the point but who cares? After letting your guard down, it’s hard to stand up again. Hyunjin got you wrapped up around his fingers. One small argument would lead to a kiss and make-up afterward. That’s one idea of how you easily give up. 

“Love,” He called as you both lay on his bed on a Thursday night. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in response as your head placed on his chest, listening to his calm heartbeat while his arms wrapped around your back. 

“I got invited to a party,” He answered—kissing the crown of your head. 

“You’re leaving?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. 

“Yes but you’re coming with me,” He said, leaving a peck on your lips. “You know I can’t leave you here alone. We’re going home to the mansion,” 

“When are we leaving?” 

“Tomorrow morning,” He said. 

“That’s so soon,” You answered. “Are we coming back here?” 

“Depends,” He chuckled. “We can spend the night in your apartment after the party. I’ll make sure no one will know,” He added, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Okay,” You said, giving him a peck on the lips. A small smile formed on his lips as he locked eyes with you with his fingers tracing your bottom lip in an attempt for a kiss. 

Your faces lean closer as your lips meet—feeling your noses brushed against each other. Hearts racing once again and blood rushes through your veins. Hyunjin made you lay down flat on your back, meeting his soft mattress covered in beige-colored bed sheets fresh from the laundry. Your heads tilted on different sides as he hovered above you once again, with a hand on your cheek—deepening the kiss. His lips tangled with yours, feeling each other’s hot breaths sending electric shocks all over your body. His kiss felt different from the other ones you’ve had. It seemed hungry and desperate. 

Your eyes closed, bodies pressing together then a soft sound was heard from you when you felt his lips on your neck, leaving wet kisses and biting your skin gently. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as his kisses traveled down to your collarbones yet you could not still make eye contact with him. 

“Shh,” You heard him say before his lips met yours again to shut you up. You felt his fingers slip inside your shirt, tracing your bare skin—slipping them inside your heart-printed pajamas to your black laced panties while never leaving your lips alone. It sent butterflies in your stomach and it became worse when you felt his fingers rubbing against your wetness. “I didn’t do anything that much yet and you’re already this wet?” 

It was awkward, you that but how can you blame yourself? 

Hyunjin pulled away as he yanked off his tank top, revealing his physique—giving you a closer look. His legs were parted as your hips lay between them. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight which he finds cute. His lips met yours again, slowly lifting your shirt which you willingly let him. You started breathing faster against his lips when he started removing your pajamas, only leaving you with the black undergarments. 

He started sucking and biting your lips as he went back on tracing his fingers from your chest, traveling down inside your panties, feeling your wetness. You let out a soft sound as a reaction to his touch. His long fingers touching your slit are already leaving your mind blank. You are confused and don’t know what to feel. You’ve read about this a lot but never get the chance on having to apply it to yourself. His lips never left yours as you let him take your panties off, not a long moment after because he was annoyed with the feeling of the fabric—limiting his actions. 

He parted your legs as you exhaled when you felt his kisses travel on your inner thighs—it drove you crazy when his tongue reached your wet pussy licking and kissing it emphatically. Arching your back as a response, the sounds you make are like music to his ears. It felt so good and hot at the same time. His eyes were watching your reactions as your mouth gapped when started eating you out. Your hands traced his bedsheets, crumpling them for you to hold on tightly.

“God, you’re so wet,” He said as his fingers were dugged into your bare skin, leaving nail marks—slowly pushing his tongue inside. 

“Oh!” You breathed out, feeling his tongue inside your walls—your heart was pounding above rate as he never stopped pushing in and out. He felt your hand grabbing his hair making him go deeper with his tongue. It was a weird feeling as your toes curled at the sensation and you loved it. Hyunjin noticed you’re taking it well and he didn’t stop sooner. 

One of his hands slipped inside your bra, squeezing your breast against the thick fabric. It fits his hand well. His lips kissed your dripping cunt as he went up to your stomach until he reached your neck, biting down lightly—sucking it, trying to find your sweet spot. You felt his hands on your back, unhooking your bra and getting rid of it on the floor. He was amused with your body, it was perfect. It fits perfectly for him. 

“You don’t just have a pretty face, but this body too,” He said in between his kisses on your neck, leaving marks as he heard you moan. His growing bulge is pressing against your hips through his sweatpants. You were panting heavily when he found your sweet spot, causing you to curse him which let out a soft chuckle before taking your lips again. Your nipples hardened when his fingers accidentally brushed them after unhooking your bra—you whimpered softly when he pinched them, slowly pulling your sensitive buds just to tease you out of it. 

“Fuck,” You hissed under your breath. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. His dick is throbbing inside his pants, upon seeing you fully naked. Hyunjin pulled away as he shoved his sweatpants down on his knees and pulled your hips closer to his. Your face turned red upon seeing his hardened dick up close—you licked your lips biting it before seeing the smirk being plastered on his face. 

“Do you want me to continue?” He asked. 

“Please,” You pleaded.

Feeling the adrenaline rush, Hyunjin rubbed his cock against your cunt—feeling the friction. Your back met his soft mattress again as he slowly slipped his length inside you, hissing when he realized he was the first one to touch you. 

“Fuck,” It hurts, now he knows what to do. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he started to thrust himself inside out as gently as he could yet it caused your eyes to roll back—making sinful sounds. You gasped at the feeling as you were breathing faster. He brought his lips to your nipples as his tongue swirled around the buds before sucking them making you moan in response. “Oh, God,” 

He suddenly moved a bit faster which made you go insane. The continuous lustful sounds you make urge him to change his pace. Your legs spread wide indulging the pain and pleasure between them as tears started forming in your eyes—nails dugged into his bare back making red marks visible. Hyunjin growled in response as he went faster making you cry. His lips met yours again, devouring them like no other man could. 

Hyunjin sweats easily, making his bangs soaked from all the movements he did. His lips became hotter and plump than before. It’s intoxicating as you could taste your wetness in his mouth with your tongues tangled. He had to turn you around as you were on your knees with your face buried in the pillows—screaming his name feeling high when he started fucking you from behind. Hands tied on your back as your skin slapped against each other. One hand around your neck as the other one locks your wrists together. You are being railed for the first time. 

The bed was creaking and he never stopped. He loves it as you were taking his cock so well that it drives him crazy. Your screams were all over the place as you moaned his name repeatedly cursing along with it. But not long after, he started to feel his orgasm coming so close that he had to pull himself out—stroking himself before spilling them out on your back. You lay on your back again realizing his sheets were already wet. It sent butterflies in his stomach seeing you fucked up as you pant in exhaustion. 

“Are you good?” He asked, planting a soft kiss on your lips as you nodded in response. 

“Just tired,” You smiled. 

“Did it hurt?” He asked again, making you red as a cherry. 

“It did,” You sighed. “Did you do this before?” 

“Maybe,” Hyunjin chuckled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He said, kissing your forehead before lifting you as he made his way to the bathroom. 

**

“Love?” It was Hyunjin’s voice that woke you up after a deep slumber. The fact that you got tired from what happened last night made you fall asleep in his arms quickly. Sadly, you didn’t want to get up and stay in bed the whole day but for sure he’s going to drag you out any time now. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in response—fluttering your eyes open. 

“Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour,” He said softly as he caressed your cheek. His body was blocking the sunlight that entered through the window as he sat down on your side of the bed. It was a sweet good morning—the way you kissed his palm for a response while closing your eyes, Hyunjin’s heart fluttered inside. “I’ll have your breakfast ready, okay?” He added, kissing your forehead. 

“Okay,” You smiled. 

“Okay,” He answered—leaving the room, and closing the door behind him. 

You let out a heavy sigh and got up to do your morning routine then it led you to some thoughts. Doing things like what couples usually do and yet Hyunjin and you didn’t put any labels until now. You love him, that’s a fact. This is probably because of the things he does—maybe his job or whatever. It is hard to commit and he thought that maybe having a blooming relationship without any labels yet, could be considered as a reassurance that he will pursue you. 

Like what you said, like is an understatement. It doesn’t sort everything in place. Like is not enough and flings are just trash. 

You found yourself again at the mansion. Felix welcomed you with a tight hug and Seungmin plastered a smile on his face while wearing those glasses on the bridge of his nose which you didn’t notice before. Chan was waiting in his office and Hyunjin left you there with them. Felix had a lot to talk about when he brought you to the main living room. There were no changes for almost 3 weeks that you were gone. The same Seoul City where you grew up but the life you once had disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

Hyunjin sat in front of Chan’s desk as Seungmin placed a pile of papers in front of him. Minho on the other hand placed a small envelope on the top of it. Those were signs—signs that he had to go on a mission again and the party that he was invited to is one. They were discussing something important inside as Felix tried to entertain you. It feels good to have him around, you missed him too even if you just talked for less than 24 hours when you left. You also wondered why they didn’t come to visit you on the island. 

“So, how did your break go?” He asked. It wasn’t a break, for sure. It was called hiding and falling in love with his brother. 

“It was fine. I got a little bored but Hyunjin and I got along,” You answered. 

“I’m happy to know!” He beamed. “Ah, there’s a party tomorrow night. Hyunjin is invited,” 

“He mentioned it,” You answered. 

“It will be an ambush for sure,” Felix said. “That’s why we’re going too, unidentified,” 

“Felix,” You called. “My parents didn’t do something illegal when they were alive, right?” 

“As far as I know, they knew about the money laundering and corruption circling the city. Even illegal businesses such as human trafficking, exploiting endangered animals, and sponsoring people who use illegal substances. There are big names involved so they were tracking them down, unfortunately, your relatives support these crimes and turned their backs on the organization. They also knew about property ownership and businesses your parents ran to help big companies provide jobs, sponsor children’s education, and donate to schools and other institutions. But you know how this economy works right? There are big names on the list who put the money in their pockets and invest them in the black market,” He explained. “The Jungs wanted to take our properties away so they can make more money out of it and they’re planning to flee the country once you’re dead and take the money with them. Then these businesses and land ownership will be handed down to their right hands and just wait for a large sum of money to be delivered to their bank accounts,” 

“That’s worse, huh,” You sighed in defeat. 

“You have so much to learn once we get rid of them. You will inherit everything,” He said. 

“That’s a big responsibility, Felix,” 

“I know,” Felix answered. “But we’re here to help. Seungmin can make them yours one order away, he’s going to be your lawyer once everything is done, and Minho Hyung, your adviser. That’s what we do in this family,” 

That’s what we do in this family. 

That’s all the reassurance you need. Maybe Hyunjin, taking you here the night of the party isn’t bad after all. 

Meanwhile, at Chan’s office, the rest of the brothers have gathered. 

“There will be an ambush waiting for you,” Minho said as he sat down on the empty chair beside Hyunjin. 

“Felix got the list of names for the party the other day,” Chan added. “Those documents have their profiles along with the list,” 

“And the Jungs will be there?” Hyunjin asked. 

“We are expecting them,” Seungmin said. 

“Now, what do we do for this type of occasion, Jeongin?” Chan asked the youngest.

“Ms. Jung’s uncle will be there and the rest of his family. He got a few men to join him at the party. Some will be undercover so the rest of us will come unidentified,” Jeongin answered. “Ms. Jung will be our bait, so you need to bring her as your plus one,” 

“Good, and?” Chan asked. 

“We’re going to wait if Mr. Jung will take the bait. He will recognize his niece for sure. You just need to be alert, Hyunjin hyung,” Jeongin said. “Changbin hyung got the blueprint of the venue for the event, there will be surveillance cameras everywhere, however, there are a few blind spots so we can enter the venue without getting caught. We just need to blend in, afterward,” 

“The party is tomorrow night so we still have time to prepare,” Changbin said. “Our target is Mr. Jung,” 

“What about his men, the wife, and the kids?” Hyunjin asked, rubbing his chin. 

“Terminate them all, the wife and kids will be sent to another country, and they will be banned from entering Korea,” Han added. “Seungmin already prepared the documents to file a case against them,” 

“Okay,” Hyunjin exhaled. 

“Seungmin, tell Felix to bring Y/n here,” 

“Yes Sir,” 

The night fell as you were studying the documents Seungmin gave you inside Hyunjin’s room. Felix and he were there to explain everything and help you identify who’s who, their crimes, their work, who they work for, and what type of business they run underground. It was A LOT and it’s dizzying. 

It’s okay, you graduated top of your class and with flying colors, this is nothing more than your thesis and practicals. 

Hyunjin was nowhere to be found at that moment and you were just listening to Seungmin and Felix talk. It distracted you for hours until they left, late at night. Hyunjin suddenly appeared before midnight. He entered the room with a large box and a translucent garment bag with his black suit in it. 

“Where have you been?” You asked, standing up from the bed—approaching him. 

“Shopping,” He said, throwing his suit on his bed as he handed the large box to you. 

“You didn’t invite me,” You pout, making him leave a peck on your lips. 

“Chan said you were busy,” He smiled. “That’s for you, open it,” 

“Really?” It was a silver mermaid floral spaghetti strap long dress. Your mouth gaps upon seeing it as it looks more expensive than the dress you wore at the first party. It was silky as it shone when the light touched the fabric. “It’s so pretty,” 

“Ah, I know, I have the best eyes,” He said proudly. “I knew you would like it,” 

“I do!” You exclaimed. “How did you know my size?” 

“I read your profile, remember? I didn’t forget,” He answered as you kissed him. 

“Thank you,” You said as he stood there frozen on his spot making him a blushing mess. 

“You’re welcome,” He was flustered, yes and you find it cute because he is. 

Fast forward an hour before the party, the brothers waited for you to come down by the main living room. They were all wearing suits, all black as usual and you were nervous about how they would react when they saw you like this. Surprisingly, you did well in taking care of your hair and make-up. It’s always been like this so you study them yourself. Hyunjin was excited and the rest were anticipating—taking a deep breath, you reached the top of the stairs, slowly walking down on each step because of those damn heels. 

Han was the first one to notice you and stood up making everyone do the same. Chan thought it wasn’t bad, Changbin and Minho thought you were good while Jeongin was surprisingly stunned by your beauty. Hyunjin was about to go crazy leaving Seungmin and Felix noticed something, most especially Felix, he’s an intel for a reason and Seungmin can sense a special connection. 

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” Han said. 

“Thank you,” You smiled at him, feeling flustered as Hyunjin took your hand, kissing the back of it. 

“Charming as always,” He said. 

“Save you flirting on a later date Hwang,” Seungmin scolded. 

“Yeah, also, try to keep it inside your pants for the whole evening,” Felix laughed, making Hyunjin glare at them. 

“What the fuck?” He hissed. 

“We know something happened on that island but we won’t ask,” Seungmin shrugged as your lips formed into a thin line out of embarrassment. How did these guys know? Ah, yes, the guards. 

“Let’s go,” Chan said out of nowhere as they all obliged to take their way out. “Hyunjin, you know what to do,” 

“Yes, Sir,” Hyunjin bowed as he assisted you to his car. 

“What is it?” You asked, taking a seat as he locked your seatbelt. 

“Nothing, just enjoy the party—alright?” He smiled, leaving a peck on your lips as he started driving. “You’re aware that your uncle would be there right?” 

“Yes,” You answered. 

“Whatever happens, I want you to leave immediately. Jeongin will take you somewhere safe but as long as the party goes on, stick with me the whole time unless I tell you otherwise, alright?” He instructed as you nodded in response. “Good,” 

You and Hyunjin entered the venue while Chan and the rest of the Wolves parked a block away. It was to avoid being noticed by the Jungs as they used a secret passageway. The blueprint Felix had was helpful enough to find blindspots around the area, guns being loaded—hidden behind their blazer as they patiently waited to be used. 

Minho was right, there was an ambush waiting for Hyunjin and your uncle saw you with him unbeknownst about the bait. His eyes were checking the place discreetly as the other Wolves scattered around the area—exchanging voice messages to their earpiece and mics. Felix walked past behind your uncle upstairs as he was on standby looking at his precious niece and Hyunjin. 

“Target locked, he’s by the railings watching Hyunjin and Y/n,” Felix whispered to his mic. 

“Copy that,” Jeongin answered as he was standing by the counter. “Two men are here, they have tattoos with Jung’s emblem, Snakes,” 

“I got four men here by the pool,” Changbin answered. 

“Stay close,” Chan said, walking on a blind spot, cocking his pistol secretly as he observed Mr. Jung’s wife and two kids. 

“Hyung, I think we’re outnumbered,” Han said, walking by a group of guards who were obviously from the rival gang. 

“Fuck,” Minho hissed from the other side. 

“Hyunjin stay alert,” Seungmin said, taking a glass of whiskey beside Jeongin. 

“Copy,” Hyunjin answered, before turning into you. “Do you want to drink, Love?” 

“No,” You said, immediately refusing. “Remember the first time we met? I vomited in your car and it smells so bad,” You added, making Hyunjin chuckle in response. 

“Okay, okay,” He said. “I’ll get something for me on the counter, alright,” He added before leaning closer to whisper something. “You know what to do,”  You just hummed in response as Hyunjin left you in the middle of the dance floor, Mr. Jung signaled one of his men to come closer and whispered something before going downstairs. 

Felix stood behind them and heard the conversation, immediately sending a distress message to everyone. 

“Incoming to Ms. Jung,” Felix said. “He’s approaching the bait,” 

“Jeongin, stand close to Y/n,” Hyunjin said, cocking his head at the youngest as Jeongin immediately left. 

The moon is shining bright in the sky along with the luminous stars twinkling like sparkles. You stood in the middle of the dancefloor aware of Jeongin’s presence. The party is like a ball where the people who were invited are filthy rich—Hyunjin was invited because he donates money to fashion institutions and charity events. The host used to be a family friend but Hyunjin only came here for the sake of Mr. Jung’s undeserving life. 

The ball is glamorous indeed—it is the theme of the party, and the lights are dim as they rely on the moonlight and lanterns surrounding the dancefloor. It was packed. Most of these people are unknown to you and the only target you should focus on is your uncle. But then, he was out of sight. 

“Ah, cousin!” A stranger’s voice was heard as he came in your direction. You tilt your head upon seeing the person who became familiar after reading about the family members of the Jungs. 

Wooyoung. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked. 

“Felix, I thought Mr. Jung was going to take the bait! Not his son!” Han half-yelled to his mic. 

“I’m following him as we speak, he’s going to the basement,” Felix whispered in an attempt to follow the target without being noticed. “Send me Changbin hyung,” 

That came unexpectedly—Wooyoung has a big smile on his face right now while clapping his hands in amusement with two bodyguards behind him. Jeongin was alerted. 

“Hyunjin hyung, Wooyoung is here,” He said. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed, leaving his whiskey unattended by the counter leaving Jisung on the lookout. “Tell Y/n to go,” 

Changbin left his spot and went to follow Felix. The old man is becoming more suspicious. 

“You think it’s a trap?” Seungmin said from the other line. 

“They don’t know Y/n’s coming,” Chan answered. “Tell her to leave! Jeongin, take her away, and Hyunjin stall Wooyoung for a bit,” 

“Noona, we have to go,” You heard Jeongin say, which caught Wooyoung's attention. 

“Oh, you’re with one of the Wolves? I thought the only Wolf invited was Hyunjin,” He asked, being curious when he read all the names invited for the party. 

“Noona we really need to go,” Jeongin said again. It wasn’t even 10 minutes ever since you arrived and now you’re being asked to leave. 

“Maybe some other time,” You told Wooyoung as you were about to leave with Jeongin but he was persistent. 

“Hey, we have a lot to catch up on,” He said but only it would take a second to steal one of Jeongin’s guns from his belt, cocking it before turning around to point it at Wooyoung’s forehead. His bodyguards immediately took their weapons pointing at you, making Jeongin raise his hands in surrender. Wooyoung wasn’t amused but it was unexpected. 

“Leave her alone,” Hyunjin suddenly came out of nowhere pointing his pistol at Wooyoung from behind. 

“Hey, hey put those guns down! I just want to talk,” He said. 

“Where’s your father?” You asked, still not moving from your spot. Jeongin couldn’t do anything but stand still, whispering something on his mic. 

Meanwhile, Felix and Changbin were following Mr. Jung—it was out of plan that he’d be down here when he was supposed to take the bait. Not Wooyoung. Chan, Minho, and Seungmin came to join the party while Han started to look for Felix and Changbin discreetly. 

“I don’t know, probably somewhere,” He said with a cocky smile plastered on his face as he is currently surrounded. “You brought her here, so hand her over then nobody gets hurt,” 

“Bitch,” You murmured—raising your right hand as a loud gunshot was heard. 

“Noona we need to go!” You heard what Jeongin said. Everyone panicked and ran outside leaving you and the Wolves along with your so-called relatives. Chan and Minho shot his bodyguards as Hyunjin was about to take Wooyoung hostage, he suddenly took his gun out pointing it at him. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t realize Jeongin was already leading you outside the venue. 

“Wait, Hyunjin!” You said—letting go of Jeongin’s grip before you could even get out and go back inside. 

“No! Noona come back!” You heard Jeongin call but ignored him. 

You were welcomed by gunshots being exchanged as you hid under a table—you realized you still had Jeongin’s gun with you, checking how many bullets were left. This will be enough. Wooyoung already ran away as Chan, Minho, and Seungmin were left on the dancefloor, reloading their guns as they hid behind the bar counter. I need to find Hyunjin. 

“Fuck,” Jeongin cursed under his breath as he took the other way back to the venue. You looked around trying to find a blind spot so no one would notice you coming through—by taking off your heels, you hurriedly transferred to the table next to where you were hiding. Chan fired a shot and noticed you behind the guards. 

“Seungmin cover me,” Chan ordered as Seungmin fired with Minho. He managed to shoot one down as Chan fled the counterbar by hiding behind the columns. 

Chan followed you until you reached the stairs that led to the basement. You ran downstairs barefooted as you saw a glimpse of Hyunjin running to a hallway—probably chasing Wooyoung. Unfortunately, it was a trap and Felix, Han, and Changbin were held hostage by Mr. Jung who tied them into a room, guns pointed at their heads by the rest of his bodyguards. Hyunjin was also led to the trap. They were outnumbered. 

You couldn’t get inside and peeked through behind a large vase with huge leaves. Chan was able to grab your arm—pulling you towards a blind spot. 

“What are you doing? You were instructed to leave with Jeongin?” He asked, having his grip around your arm tightened as it was hurting. The way he stares could kill you as they were ice cold yet, burning of anger. 

“I can’t leave Hyunjin alone,” You reasoned out when someone from behind hit the back of Chan’s neck, causing him to pass out, making you scream in terror when they grabbed you to the room with him. “Let me go!” You yelled at the man but he doesn’t give a fuck and even if you tried to let go of his grip—he was too strong to pull you back again. 

Your voice was heard throughout the basement until you reached the room. You saw the Wolves kneeling—hands tied behind their backs as you stood there in front of them. They were surrounded and a man was holding your arm, preventing you from escaping. Chan was unconscious. Felix got a bruise on his forehead and a busted lip. Han and Changbin were also beaten up, and Hyunjin had a gun directed to his temple by Wooyoung as he licked his inner cheek in annoyance—blood dripping from his forehead, a cut at the side of his brow, a busted lip. What the fuck did they do? 

“Where are the rest of the Wolves?” Mr. Jung asked. 

“I don’t know,” You answered firmly. You could see your uncle having that smile plastered on his face while sitting down with a glass of wine in one hand. Fucker.

The only ones missing were Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin. 

“Find them!” Mr. Jung ordered. 

His wife was there, standing beside her bastard husband. It was a trap after all. The Wolves couldn’t say a word, but you are sure that they’re worried about what’s going to happen. Nobody expected this and you were dumb to follow Hyunjin, but if you didn’t, what could happen? Your eyes wandered around the area to find something to make a solution or a way to get out. But you can’t do this alone. 

Fuck, these are all walls and there’s only one entrance and exit. 

“After all these years of looking for you,” You heard your uncle say. “You came straight to the mouse trap,” He added as he stood up—walking towards you.

“Sir, we found them!” But not long after the chase, Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin were brought into the room and were forced to kneel beside the rest of the Wolves. Grunts were heard from them and after that, they were quiet, but their faces were saying that they were not happy with the setup. 

“Ahh, the rest of the orphans are here!” 

Motherfucker. 

“Your parents had a great legacy, too bad it was cut short because of the incident 20 years ago,” Mr. Jung laughed. “It didn’t hurt when my father chose my brother to be the Godfather when I’m capable of doing the business. Money was tight but cheers to the black market and soon, your properties and businesses,” 

“I’m not giving them to you!” You argued as he sighed in response while shaking his head. 

“I know you would say that,” He answered. “But let me make you a deal, each time you refuse, one of them dies,” He added, pointing to the brothers. “Who was it Wooyoung? Hyunjin is it?” 

“Yes, her boyfriend,” Wooyoung answered. 

“Ahh, you thought we didn’t know what happened,” Mr. Jung said. “I have someone who has access to the mansion and Chan’s private island. You thought you killed everyone from the party a month ago?” 

It was probably one of the guards. Sigh… come on, think Y/n, think. 

“Kill him,” You said, making everyone jump into surprise. 

“Are you nuts, Y/n?!” Seungmin exclaimed. 

“Shut up, Kim!” Wooyoung scolded. 

“If plan A won’t work, we have a plan B,” Hyunjin said the night before as you two sat on the floor with the documents Seungmin left you to study. 

“Obey them,” You answered. 

“Yes,” He answered. “My brothers and I have secret pockets in our sleeves so we can still use small weapons if we struggle—they will take you from us for sure and if we get captured, buy their time. We know how to act,” 

“Hold it,” Mr. Jung said, raising his hand. “What are you playing at?” He added, looking at you. 

“You said that every time I refuse to give you rights to my parents’ properties, you’d kill one of them, which I am. I won’t give it,” You smiled at him. 

Meanwhile, Hyunjin was playing with his zippo trying to get loose from the rope being tied around his wrists—slowly making a small flame. Minho was able to slip his pocket knife inside his sleeve and did the same—cutting the rope slowly for anyone not to notice his movements. 

“You killed my parents so I’m sure killing my boyfriend won’t make any difference. Shoot him,” You said, leaning closer to your uncle’s face—gritting your teeth at him. 

Your uncle raised a brow and seemed like finally getting the actual bait as he signaled Wooyoung to pull the trigger when Hyunjin was quick enough to dodge it—sweeping him off of his feet by swinging his legs to his ankles. The shot was fired at his bodyguard making the Wolves free from the knots, taking their guns out as they formed a circle—backs against each other. Unfortunately, the man didn’t even bother letting you go, instead, a gun is already at the side of your head. 

Wooyoung got up wincing from the pain in his shoulder after he fell. It was embarrassing. He picked up his gun and pointed it at Hyunjin again. 

“If you think you’re so clever to make them out of the ropes, you’re wrong, girl,” Your uncle said. “Any last words before I kill you?” He asked as he signaled the man to hold you tighter—your left hand managed to snake inside your dress as you hid the gun behind your back before firing the man’s feet making him push you away. After that, you shot your uncle in his chest before he could even react. 

Good thing your gun was hidden inside your dress, assisted with a leather garter on your leg. 

The Wolves started firing those men as Wooyoung ran away, his mom didn’t even make it out alive. 

Gunshots were exchanged, as Felix got behind your back, firing. 

“Hyunjin, get Wooyoung!” You heard Chan say, “We’ll cover you!” Hyunjin immediately fled from the room as he chased Wooyoung out of the basement, and back to the main hall. 

“You need to follow Hyunjin,” Felix said. 

“What about you guys?” You asked, aiming the gun at whoever tried to come closer. Bodies were already on the floor, some had the guts to hide and dodge the bullets from the Wolves. 

“We can manage, just go!” Felix commanded, making you exhale harshly, and left the room—running back upstairs, barefooted. You saw a man lying down on the floor before you could reach the top and grabbed his gun, checking if there were bullets left. 

“4 bullets?” You sighed as you checked yours too. “4, okay. 8 bullets will be enough,” 

The coast was clear when you got back up to the main hall. It was a mess, tables and chairs had been turned, holes in the walls and fabrics from the bullets, some of the lanterns were broken, even the huge banner. No one was there except you and you’re worried about where Wooyoung has been leading Hyunjin to. It won’t be the basement of course. 

Could it be at the parking lot? 

Lifting your dress, you ran outside to the parking lot not minding how painful it is to rush out of the venue without your heels—but they’ll slow you down if you haven’t got them removed. And you’re right, Wooyoung and Hyunjin were still there, holding each other’s gunpoint. You hid by one of those parked cars and slowly took your way closer to where they were. 

“It’s dumb how it took you 20 years to find her,” Hyunjin said. 

“They did,” Wooyoung answered. “But we needed a motive to kill her. Not just her being the first in line,” 

“She didn’t know anything until we told her!” Hyunjin argued. 

“You put the idea inside her stupid little brain,” Wooyoung said. “She was easy to kill before then,” 

“She will never give it to you,” Hyunjin answered with his arm firm enough to shoot him. You were able to sneak a few meters behind Wooyoung. Hyunjin pretended not to see you as he kept buying your cousin’s time. “Your father’s dead! She shot him,” 

“You Wolves killed my mother too,” Wooyoung retorted. 

“Your parents made us orphans. All of us!” Hyunjin said. “You don’t deserve the Godfather’s empire. It was built for a good cause and that’s not for you to make dirty. How does it feel to be alone now?” Hyunjin asked, cocking his head with a sly smirk on his face as you pointed the gun at your cousin’s head—shaking from anger. 

“You deserve to die,” Wooyoung said, clenching his jaw, and was about to pull the trigger to aim at Hyunjin’s head when a loud gunshot was heard, making him kneel on the ground—collapsing a few seconds later. 

Your pistol was hot as white smoke escalated from the hole. Hyunjin immediately moved away in case he got hit before you ran up to him—embracing him tightly. 

It’s over. 

The rest of the Wolves came to the parking lot after hearing the gunshot only to find you hugging Hyunjin. 

It’s over—it’s finally over. 

“Are you okay?” You asked—looking at him as you examined his face. “You didn’t get hit right?” 

“I’m good,” He said, hugging you again. “You must be terrified,” 

“No… but, I can’t believe I shot them,” You sniffed, burying your face against his chest. 

“Baby, you did good, okay? They’re bad people,” He answered, caressing your back—kissing you on the forehead. “Let’s go home, you must be exhausted,” 

“Are you guys okay?” Minho asked out of worry as you turned around to look at them. Felix seemed to be injured as he was assisted by Han and Seungmin. 

“What happened?” You asked, hurriedly approaching the three of them. 

“He got shot on his leg,” Seungmin sighed. 

“God,” You cried, hugging Felix tightly which made the man chuckle in response. “I’m sorry,” 

“Y/n, I’m fine,” He reassured, patting your back while painting a smile on his face.  

“Yeah, she’s fine, we’re fine,” Hyunjin answered Minho. 

“He’s dead?” Chan asked, pointing at Wooyoung’s body. 

“Y/n shot him,” Hyunjin answered. “And the rest?” 

“No one survived,” Changbin said. 

Everyone felt relieved that night except Felix who struggled to walk because of his injured leg. Minho carried him like a bride as the younger one winced in pain as they left for the car. You were tailing them as Seungmin noticed your dress got ripped and you were barefooted. 

“You’re a mess, girl,” Seungmin said, making you shrug in response—mascara being smudged. 

“I wasn’t expecting to be like this but thank you for noticing,” You chuckled, reaching out your arm as Seungmin smiled, letting you wrap your arm around his broad shoulders although he’s a bit taller than you. 

“Let’s go home, we still have a business to discuss,” You heard Chan say but Hyunjin begged to differ. 

“Hyung, can’t Y/n just rest for tonight?” He said but Chan’s eyes landed on the two of you and said; “Are you tired, Y/n?” 

“No,” You shake your head. “Let’s talk about the ownership,” You added, letting go of Seungmin— walking towards Hyunjin’s car making Chan smirk at him. 

“You heard your girl, lover boy,” 

“You got a fighter,” Changbin said, making a fist bump with Hyunjin making him cocky. 

“Noona stole my gun,” Jeongin sulked as he got inside Chan’s car. 

“You have a wall of guns in your room, a pistol is not that big of a deal,” Chan answered, making the youngest sigh in defeat. 

You all went home after that and let the cops get to the venue a few minutes after you left. The news was all over the place and all of Korea was watching. No names were dropped except from the Jungs who died. There will be no problems now—unless there will be another list of names to shoot. 

Meanwhile, everyone was inside Felix’s room as Minho was treating him—the man got a master’s degree in medicine. Unpredictable. 

“He’ll be sent to a hospital, I already called an ambulance,” He said. 

“Are you good, bro?” Han asked Felix who was obviously in pain. 

“Do you think I’m good, Han?” Felix hissed at him, making everyone laugh.

“Now, Y/n, time for your decision,” Chan suddenly butted in as he signaled Seungmin to hand over the documents you need to sign for transferring your names to the ownership. “You can leave this all behind and let us handle everything or you want to continue your parents’ business and be our partner,” He smiled for the first time. 

And without hesitation, you signed it. 

“The latter, Chan, I will work with you,” You smiled at him—reaching out a hand for a shake. The boys didn’t have the time to react that they were happy with your decision. Especially Hyunjin. 

“Wise choice,” Chan said, shaking your hand. “We’ll contact Mr. Park tomorrow so we can schedule a meeting, alright?” 

“Welcome to the family, Y/n!” Seungmin said, hugging you tightly. 

Family. 

You finally have a family. 

Hyunjin cleared his throat as Seungmin rolled his eyes, letting you go out of the hug. 

“She’s going to be my sister-in-law, anyway Hyunjin,” Seungmin said. 

“Shoo,” Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer to him. 

The rest of the evening was not a surprise anymore. Felix was sent to the hospital with Minho and Chan with him, while the rest of the Wolves were ordered to stay and rest. You found yourself on the rooftop wearing your pajamas. Sitting there alone as the cold breeze of the wind dries your hair feels so calm. It was a very long day and a very long night—you’re glad it’s over but you knew you still have a lot to do starting tomorrow. A meeting, negotiations and maybe getting a new job. 

Your life changed in the blink of an eye. 

The heavens finally gave it to you and it is more than you could ask for. 

A man who suddenly showed up and became the love of your life, a profession that would put a lot of things on the table, and the most valuable, a family. You’re not lonely anymore. 

Although there is still one thing to be finalized… 

“Love?” You heard Hyunjin’s voice as he walked upstairs to the rooftop. “I thought you were with Seungmin for notarization,” 

“No, he said we can do that tomorrow,” You smiled. “Sit here, we have to talk,” You added, patting the empty space beside you. Hyunjin sat down immediately as he took your hand, kissing it before he placed it on his cheek to feel your warmth.  

“Is this about us?” He asked. 

“Do we still need to slow down?” You asked him as he smiled gently, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“No,” He said. “You’re officially mine now,” 

“Can I say it?” You asked him as your foreheads rested against each other, Hyunjin was confused. 

“What is it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy but you think he’s more of a weasel. It took you a few seconds before answering as you made sure that the eye contact was still there with your hands placed on his cheeks. He was waiting. 

“I love you,” But instead of answering, Hyunjin pulled you to sit on his lap, crashing his lips onto yours—bodies pressed together as you hugged him around his neck with his arms around your waist. 

“I love you more,” He answered it between, breathing heavily as your lips collided against each other. 

Your heart’s racing again and so does he. 

It’s one heck of the night after all but, he is the best part of it. 

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids mafia au #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #skz #skz imagines #skz mafia au #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz smut #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader

[curryalley]

I need Clint Barton to meet Dick Grayson.

I need Clint to roll into a SHIELD ops assignment meeting having absolutely not read the briefing materials before the meeting. I need Phil Coulson to explain that there has been a serious threat against the life of Dick Grayson. Wayne Corp is about to announce some new initiatives. Intelligence confirms a criminal syndicate plans to kidnap Dick Grayson to force Bruce Wayne to call off the plans. SHIELD needs Wayne Corp to go through with it (and kidnapped sons of billionaires are always a headache) so Clint, we've created an identity for you as a Wayne Corp employee to keep an on things.

And Clint has to be like, "Yeah that won't work."

The analysts immediately take offense. "It's an airtight identity, you've done worse undercover work than babysitting a billionaire's kid."

Clint interrupts. "I can't pretend to be someone else around Dick Grayson. I know him. Me. Clint Barton. We were friends when we were kids."

Everyone at the meeting is losing it and Clint stares at them all. "How many circus kids do you think there are? Haley's and Carson's didn't tour together but our paths crossed in the offseason."

That explains why during his afternoon walk home, Dick Grayson comes across his childhood friend, Clint Barton, wearing jeans and a purple tank top, juggling and doing tricks for cash on the street. SHIELD has adjusted Clint Barton's identity so he's down on his luck, busking for spare change because it's hard to get a job when you're a deaf former circus performer with barely a GED.

Of course Dick wants to help and they reconnect. Dick asks Clint to perform at a Wayne gala. The same gala where the goons attempt to grab Dick Grayson. Dick keeps trying to slip out and change into Nightwing but? Somehow? Clint is always behind him? They're both trying to fight off the goons, still in their civvies, each trying to rescue each other while also not giving away their secret idecities,

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"I used to be a cop. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Would you believe me if I said bar fights?"

When it's all over, there's some disagreement about who is walking who home but Clint insists since Dick was almost kidnapped. Clint gets into his Hawkeye gear and plans to spend the night watching Dick's building for trouble when he sees Nightwing go swinging away from it.

Naturally he follows. Nightwing is meeting with the bats to report on the kidnapping attempt when there's a wild bit of confusion and mistaken identity as one of the bats slams Hawkeye to the ground and demands to know why he's following Nightwing.

Clint's lying there partially stunned at being nearly splattered by one of the robins or something when Nightwing leans over him.

"Clint?"

"Hey, Dick."

Clint and Dick were already friends but that's the story of how Hawkeye meets Nightwing.

(In the sequel, Clint turns up outside Dick's apartment months later. He's wearing multiple bandages, drinking a coffee with the name on the cup horribly misspelled with a K and holding Lucky's leash. He looks at Dick and says, "The Tracksuit Mafia has moved to Bludhaven, you got any plans tonight?")

#hawkeye #clint barton #nightwing #dick grayson

[aknolan]

You know, in all the posts I've seen about how great Leverage is (which are the posts that got me to watch the show!) there's one part of it that doesn't really come up. They take down the bad guys, and that's really cool, and the characters are incredible, and that's also really cool.

What gets me the most though? Is the jobs where they make things better.

The jobs where they do still take down the bad guys, give them their due, stop the harm. But they also make things better.

Sometimes it's small things, like the Tap Out Job where the guy they help gets to run the boxing club going forward, keep his people safe. The checks they sometimes give at the end of an episode, with a suggestion of what to use it for, fall into this theme.

Slightly bigger, you get things like the Underground Job where the mine will have proper safety equipment now and an owner who will keep it that way. Or the Blue Line Job, which comes with a show of solidarity between the guys that fight each other on the ice - but not when it could kill one of them. Not once they know. And now they'll make sure no one faces that risk again.

On a personal level, there's the Carnival Job, where a father ends up connecting with his daughter again by the end.

And then there's the episode that got me thinking about this.

The Gimme A K Street Job.

For once, they're doing a (mostly) legal job. And the end goal is simple: get laws into place so teenage girls won't get hurt from the lack of safety regulations.

And they do it.

And going forward, no more teenage girls are going to break their bones because they landed on a mat that doesn't give anything except the illusion of protection.

Leverage is different from the typical crime solving show because of the robin hood angle, sure. But it's also different because every now and then, they don't just catch the bad guy. Every now and then, they make things better.

#leverage #the times where they make things better are the ones that are most likely to make me cry #yes leverage has a lot of stuff going on with revenge #a lot of what they do is about getting revenge! #but it's also about stopping the harm #and sometimes? it's about making things better #and that last part. that's the most important part #it's what keeps the show from getting depressing

[alastorsfuckassbob]

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #fanfic #god this is kinda ass #tumblr is my shit hole and i will scream whatever I want into the void #lol what even is this #alastor died oops #y/n #y/n fics are my last mental defense before massive decline

[toast-the-unknowing]

on fanfic plagiarism

Almost five years ago, in January of 2019, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "Word on the Street," had been plagiarized.

I remember that the stolen fic was posted in k-pop fandom, though not what specific band it related to -- I'm not into k-pop, or really into pop music at all.

I remember that the person who messaged me told me that they had found my fic because the plagiarist had a reputation for stealing fic, so when they'd posted a new story, this person had known to do some digging.

I don't remember what the plagiarist's username was. I remember scanning the stolen story, trying both to read every detail and to avoiding taking any of it in, because looking at that right-but-wrong, not-quite-there, uncanny-valley-ness of it made me queasy.

I remember being darkly amused that the plagiarist had cut out the reference to the main character suffering physical abuse at the hands of his father -- I guess it didn't make sense in the context of the new character. It's almost like the story wasn't written for him. It's almost like someone wrote the story about Adam Parrish, instead.

I filed an AO3 complaint, on the grounds that this was a blatant and unarguable violation of their plagiarism policy. Within twenty-four hours, they got back to me, and the story was removed.

It was a weird, uncomfortable, gross feeling, knowing someone had taken words I'd written and passed them off as their own.

But at the same time -- "Word on the Street" was a silly thing I dashed off pretty quickly, during a period of my life when I was doing a lot of writing. It hurt to have it stolen. It was a violation. But…I had other words, that were more important to me. Maybe that was a buffer.

-

Last month, about six weeks ago, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "there's talk going 'round this town," had been plagiarized.

I was, bizarrely, amused.

I was less bizarrely furious. I was understandably, relatably, I would say rationally, furious. But in a way (and as always, when I say in a way, I am calling back to the scholars of overthinkingit.com for whom in a way is meant as the thing I have just said or am about to say is false) -- in a way, I was amused.

The plagiarist clearly did a 'find and replace' on the character names, to replace Adam and Ronan's names with those of k-pop characters. They did a bad job of it, since the name "Ronan" still appears in one paragraph and the name "Parrish" still appears in two paragraphs. The fic is here, in case anyone doesn't believe me, under the name "i do(n't remember)". At first when I complained about the fic on tumblr, I didn't mention the name, or which fic they'd stolen, because I was worried about anyone…I don't know, making a scene. I've stopped caring. AO3 user springguk is bad at find and replace and they should feel bad. About their computer skills, and also about their blatant plagiarism.

springguk also did some more edits to my fic, I have to give them credit for that. I wrote "there's talk going 'round this town" within a relatively short time span, for me. I tend to either finish things within one week, or else take several months. I believe this one took about five or six weeks completely to write -- I was very inspired.

(I was inspired, specifically, by the press coverage of Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves 'discovering' they might be 'accidentally' married. I mention that in my author's notes. springguk doesn't mention what 'inspired' them in their author's notes. I wonder how they talk about it with friends. They do, in their author's notes, include a link to their ko-fi, and a request that people buy them a coffee.)

If I'd taken longer with this fic, I might have made some edits. Even at the time, I knew I was being self-indulgent in letting the scene with my teenage female OC talk at such length with Ronan about what his non-canonical film career had meant to her, a person the audience didn't care about. But I had fun. I liked Fox. I didn't want to cut her, and what the hell, it was fanfic. I decided to self-indulge.

I was darkly amused to find that springguk did cut out the scene with Fox from their plagiarized version. Maybe springguk is a more disciplined editor than I am. Maybe springguk just didn't have a good k-pop character to map Fox onto. Maybe springguk didn't even realize that Fox was an OC. Do you know anything about the fandom you steal fics from, springguk? I can't help but wonder. Have you read The Raven Cycle? Do you care about teenage OCs who steal cars because of fake films that are clearly meant to be stand-ins for The Fast and the Furious franchise?

Maybe springguk just didn't give a fuck, because none of their heart and soul was poured into this fic. I cared too much about Fox. springguk doesn't care about a single word in the fic they published. Why would they? They didn't write it.

I'm being a little mean in naming them so many times. But I'm able to, this time, because although I filed a plagiarism complaint with AO3 six weeks ago, springguk's stolen fic "i do(n't remember)," is still available to read on AO3 to this very day. I don't have to wrack my brains to remember what their username was, or which k-pop band they recast my work with. I can just look at their fic with its 24 comments and 151 kudos. Hell, maybe that fic is even better than mine, if you don't mind that by cutting the sequence with Fox they've sacrificed a fairly substantial development in the romantic relationship, and also if you don't care that at one point the characters names switch from Jeongguk and Taehyung to Ronan and Parrish, because seriously, for fuck's sake, if you're going to steal a fic at least do a goddamn ctrl+f at the end.

I was mad. I was amused. I made a complaint that the AO3, six weeks later, has still not acted on. I mostly moved on.

-

Tonight, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now," had been plagiarized.

I wanted to vomit.

I was supposed to be playing Dungeons and Dragons online with friends tonight; I spent the entire call unable to focus on anything anyone was saying. I had to keep reminding myself that I was on camera and my face wasn't supposed to look like that.

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is the first of a series of, currently, twelve fics. skytoseungmin, the person who stole it to pass it off as their own work, knew this. Their stolen version was published as part one of a series, though they hadn't published any of the sequels. Presumably, they wanted to wait long enough to make it plausible they'd gone and written the follow ups, instead of just finding them.

skytoseungmin likely didn't know that this fic and this series are intensely personal. They didn't know that the apartment that Adam -- Seungmin, in their ill-gotten version -- lives in, that was based in part off of the apartment I lived in for a year in Pico-Robertson with talldecafcappuccino. They didn't know that the 7-Eleven Adam buys coffee at is the same one I used to tease talldecafcappuccino for buying coffee at. They didn't know that the strip club where Adam and Ronan have their humorously ill-timed romantic revelation outside of, that was the strip club I used to use as a landmark when giving people directions for how to navigate the confusing as fuck freeway exit I lived near, which once caused me to accidentally tell my highly Catholic parents "just go past the strip club and you're good!"

skytoseungmin didn't know that the apartment Adam -- sorry, Seungmin, thoroughly, they were better with find and replace than springguk -- lived in, was also based off of my ex's apartment in Palms, where I as the mere visiting girlfriend was never allowed to park in the parking lot. Where I would sometimes have to spend twenty or thirty minutes circling the neighborhood before I could find parking, often a walk of several minutes away. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when Ronan's car get towed from a McDonald's parking lot, that that was a specific McDonald's on Venice Boulevards, the same one my ex's asshole roommate used to just roll his eyes and say that I should park at. skytoseungmin doesn't know that I once wished passionately that I had just parked in that McDonald's parking lot and risked getting towed, on the occasion that a man followed me several unlit blocks from my car. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when I talk about how helping someone park is the truest love language there is in Los Angeles, that that was what I meant. Has skytoseungmin ever had to circle to half an hour to find parking in Los Angeles? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone enough to do that, instead of saying, fuck it, they can come to me or we're breaking up? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone in Los Angeles enough, to do as my ex did, and come running as fast as humanly possibly when their girlfriend called them whispering and crying on the phone, someone's following me, please, I'm scared, I wish I just parked at the McDonald's?

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is a very personal fic.

It isn't half as personal as some of the fics that come after.

skytoseungmin marked their plagiarized version of the fic as part one of a series. Were they planning on stealing part two, where I, through an alternate universe characterization of Ronan Lynch, dig into my experience of grief and trauma surrounding my grandmother's dementia? Were they planning on stealing any of the explicit fics, where I play with kink and desire in ways I haven't even exposed to my actual sexual partners, but where I felt able to through the guise of fandom? What else was skytoseungmin planning on stealing, with charming little author's notes apologizing for how they missed the fandom-relevant date they were shooting for, because they were so busy with exams, tee-hee! Why the excuses, skytoseungmin? how long does it take you to ctrl+f, even if you are more thorough about it than springguk?

If I seem too accusatory and mean-spirited toward skytoseungmin, well, the LA verse is a very personal fic.

And it's also, it turns out, only one of eight different fics that they stole from me.

I didn't even notice at first, to be honest. I was too stunned. But my friend Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went to my defense and clicked through to the author's page, while I was still reeling at the horrible possibilities of part one of a series. It turned out, of eight fics on skytoseungmin's author's page…I had written every single one of them.

Some were short and pretty lighthearted, things I hadn't had to invest too much of myself into -- like I said, sometimes, I can write a fic in under a week.

Other things…

They stole the space western AU.

I don't think I can articulate to any human being how much that hurt me, to look at it, to see.

I wrote that as a thank you gift for someone who donated to Fandom Trumps Hate.

I spent nearly two years of my life on it -- two years during which, because of mental health issues and life situation changes, my words per year dropped precipitously. I still haven't recovered. I still think of what a failure I am for not writing more, currently, actively, and I remember how the space western AU was both a symptom of that and a defiance of it: yes, writing has become fucking hard, fucking NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE, but I'm still doing it, goddamn it, you can't stop me, even if all I produce is the tiniest trickle of words a month. it can still add up, somehow, if we just keep TRYING.

To see the space western AU, casually nestled amongst a half dozen other fics that were all apparently casually dashed off in the same month…I know it was theft, I know it was a lie, but it still felt like a slap in the face, why can't you write this fast?

Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went on a campaign of commenting on all of skytoseungmin's (my) fics, and I am so thankful. The k-pop fans who heard Jessie have been reaching out, to her, to me, to each other on Twitter, and I am so thankful for them too. skytoseungmin has deleted all of their (my) fics on AO3, and their entire AO3 account, and their entire twitter, apparently. Maybe they were hoping to get enough clicks to parlay them into some kind of book deal, and they'd now rather give up what was a low investment effort on their part than be associated with accusation of plagiarism.

I suppose they can always start over with a new user name and someone else's fics if they really want to.

I suppose they can always start over with a new username and my fics, if they really want to.

And after all, AO3 has still not reached out to me about springguk, and "i do(n't remember)" is still sitting there. Maybe springguk is also going for a book deal. Who knows?

Why complain about any of it?

In a way* (and remember what "in a way" means), isn't it a compliment, if someone loves the words I wrote, even if they don't know it was me that wrote them? toast-the-unknowing and shinealightonme, if they're the same name (and they are), then why not springguk or skytoseungmin, too?

Am I making too big of a deal out of this? Does everyone just have their work stolen from them, all of the time? Is that simply the cost of doing business in an era and an ecosystem where we all can copy and paste twenty-four thousand words with greater ease than our ancestors could transcribe a single phrase? Are more prolific, more famous, more successful fan authors looking at my piteous cries and thinking, bitch, you've only been ripped off by k-pop fans ten times, come back when you have real problems?

And yet in a month, a year, a whole life phase of not being able to write as much as I would like to, because of my health, because of my work, to have someone else just casually pass off the words I have managed to eke out, as though they have no value, as though it were no more than photo copying a shitty flier to stick under a windshield wiper…

I can't imagine springguk or skytoseungmin give a shit how I feel about any of this. At best, they roll their eyes; at worst they laugh to know they hurt me -- and what's the difference between the two? I'll never know either way.

I know that some of the people they duped do care, and are also upset. That helps. And also, it doesn't help.

I just fucking hate all of this, and if all I have are words, and if my words are valuable enough for someone to steal, then here, here are enough of them to choke on. I know I did.

#long post #fandom #plagiarism #that whole plagiarism thing

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #nekoma #nekoma x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq kenma #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma kuzoume x reader #kenma fluff #nekoma headcannons #aged up characters #timeskip haikyuu #X reader #crack fic #kenma #bread #reqs open

[akookminsupporter]

Namjoon gave a good interview to Vogue Spain and in it he said a few things that I thought I'd share with those of you who may not understand Spanish.

This was at the end of the article but I want to write it first:

One thing that needs to be made clear about this album is that, no matter how much the rumour mill is trying to spin it, it is by no means the end of the successful band. "Oh, I'm not leaving BTS. Absolutely not. This is the first time I'm launching a solo project like this, so I'm trying to stand up and take my first steps. But I'm ambitious and I have willpower. So I don't want to miss the opportunity to do both. So I will try my best not to lose control and steer these two ships at the same time. A lot of bands split up and fall apart, but I hope that doesn't happen to BTS. I just love the music, I love my job, I love the band members and I love myself. If I can keep both projects going, I think it can be something legendary in the long run".

Other important parts of the article:

"The k-pop industry hasn't stopped growing since we debuted with BTS [in 2013]. It's become a lot more complex and has brought a lot more people into its structures. I think there are a lot of lights, but also some slippery shadows. Many of us started our careers very early as a group: we slept and lived together as teenagers. We became a real family, which is great, but this culture has also affected me a lot, because sometimes I find it difficult to be treated as an adult who has autonomy in his decisions. I'm perceived as just another cog in the crew, in the context of a mass phenomenon",

Did you ever feel like you were getting completely lost in this delirium of success? "I used to think so, but the funny thing is that I am fully aware that it was my own choice to devote myself to the k-pop industry. Nobody pushed me into it. But yes, I have lost myself at times. Although perhaps saying this is an excess of 'self-empathy'. There is no answer. Except that, if k-pop is about recharging the batteries of a mass audience and I'm responsible for doing that recharging, then I have to keep my feet firmly on the ground. As an adult, as a musician and as a human being. And these ten years of my career have helped me define who I am and learn to love myself. But I'm still in that process, you know? All these internal struggles will be recorded on records and videos," he explains.

"Music is really necessary for the world, but, when it comes to my music, sometimes I feel like I'm producing something unnecessary. If I were to die tonight, I don't think anything would change. It might matter to some people for a while, but a farmer or a street sweeper is more relevant to the functioning of society. When I ask myself about the role of our generation in historical terms, when I look at all the digital platforms and communities out there, I am overcome with confusion. There are a lot of people who don't want to think. They have frenetic lives and turn to music or television to escape, so the last thing they want is someone trying to lecture them from a pedestal. In that context, I wonder how I can make my music matter. I haven't found an answer yet, but I keep trying to bring my own perspective to it.

As to whether he is afraid that the army he has on Instagram (42.4 million followers) might one day turn against him for a silly mistake or a blunder, RM answers bluntly. "Yes, it scares me. It scares me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When I was younger I tried to come across as a cool guy who doesn't give a shit what other people think, but I don't think that's right anymore. I care about the publicity dimension of my career and the influence I can have on others. It stresses me out, yes, but I think I can handle it. That's why I don't retire or do things like go out and drink the night away and then drive drunk. I'm human, I can make mistakes, but I will do everything in my power to be the best version of myself. One of the keys is to treat this job for what it is: a job. I don't think artists have any special rights or status.

Note: if you would like me to translate another part of the interview, let me know.

#Namjoon #RM #vogue spain #bts #bts solo careers #bts break

[tkachukz]

Those Green Eyes - Trevor Zegras

summary: When you feel torn apart after your breakup and find comfort in a green-eyed unknown hockey player

(part 1 of 2 -or 3-)

words: 2,1 K

Your life could come down to a tightrope. 

Fresh from a journalism degree and with an entirely uncertain life ahead of you, without a home, without a job and with your family living in another state, you felt the need to have something stable. Anything.

And that's what Jake, your high school sweetheart, was to you. Until now.

You couldn't hold back the tears when he said right to your face that you'd become routine, you weren't fun anymore, and that he couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with you, neither another minute.

 You got into the first taxi that had the decency to stop for a disheveled and sobbing girl, asking him to move on to a destination you didn't even know. Getting out of town might be the best thing? But go where? You lived with Jake, meaning you didn't have a home of your own. Your parents were miles away, and you didn't want to look like a failure.

The taxi stopped because of the traffic jam and you looked to the side, facing a huge arena, and a line of cars leaving. Probably this was the only part of Anaheim that would get this busy this late.

“I'll be down, thanks” tired of waiting for the taxi to go and desperate for some space and air, you got out, running through the crowd to the parking lot.

A small bench under a street light was empty and you allowed yourself to cry there.

Jake had been your first everything, the only piece of stability you thought you needed, there for you at all times, and now he was gone, and you were alone. Once again.

Noise of breaking branches caught your attention, but you didn't bother to lift your face, continuing with your head down hugging your knees.

"Are you ok?" a gentle male voice sounded, moving a little closer, stepping in front of the street light.

You gave in to curiosity and lifted your head, bumping into a beautiful pair of green eyes, staring at you with concern.

“I'm fine” your voice came out as a whisper.

He analyzed you for a few more seconds, as if looking for visible injuries, if only he could see your broken heart.

“Well, despite your very convincing answer” he began “I think I'll stay here for a while” he sat down on the bench beside you, keeping a respectable distance.

“I don't need you to stay here.”

“Who said I'm here for you? This is the best place to see stars” he said pointing to the sky, which made you drop a small smile “is it a mini smile I see?”

You turned your face away from the green-eyed boy, pressing your lips together to contain your reluctant smile.

“I'm Trevor, by the way” out of the corner of your eye, you saw the outstretched hand.

With a sigh, you allowed yourself to look at the green-eyed boy, who had an amused smile "I'm Yn" he shook your hand gently.

"Pleased to meet you Yn" he went back to looking at the stars in silence.

After a few minutes, your desperate crying subsided, giving way to small sobs. Trevor remained silent, focused on the immensity of the night, watching you from the corner of his eye without you noticing.

A long sigh left your mouth and you looked up "this really is a great place to see the stars".

Trevor agreed with a smile "you know what's better than seeing stars?"

"What?"

"A hamburger"

You couldn't help but laugh and Trevor felt satisfied seeing that he made you laugh.

"Are you hungry? I know a great place!” he jumped off the bench, looking at you hopefully.

“I just met you Trevor, and you already expect me to get in the car with you?”

“Who said car? The arena has an exceptional burger joint. I swear"

“The arena is closed” you said as if it were obvious, and Trevor smirked.

"There are no doors that hold me, my dear."

*

Ignoring your fear of possible arrest for trespassing and theft, you followed Trevor in a brisk walk to the side door of the arena. As you approached, a large security guard looked at you, and when you were ready to turn around, Trevor spoke confidently.

“She's with me” and like magic, the security guard opened the door.

You kept following the green eyed boy starting to question who he was.

His hair was combed back just below his ear. He had a nice nose, and wore a leather jacket, walking casually with his hands in his pockets.

He led you all the way through the winding interior of the arena, for some reason running away from a few groups of fans that were still around.

“Tandam!” he opened his arms pointing to a small restaurant.

"It's closed??"

His smirk widened, and he continued walking toward the -closed- establishment.

A middle-aged woman was at the register, and her eyes sparkled at his approach.

“Trevor my little one, what are you doing here?? I thought you were gone hours ago!”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter “some unforeseen things happened, I know it's late but, could you make two more hamburgers? My friend is hungry"

He nodded at you, and the woman turned her large eyes to stare at you.

“Hi” you waved shyly, hugging your body without even realizing it.

“But of course!! Two hamburgers coming out. And it was nice meeting you sweetie” that last part was directed at you.

Hundreds of questions raced through your mind in a matter of priority, but you couldn't voice any before the food arrived. Trevor paid for both of them, picking up all the bags and heading in the opposite direction of the door.

"This way."

“But isn’t the exit over there?”

"I know, and that's why we're going this way."

You looked around "Trevor, the arena is about to close, we can't stay here."

The side smile appeared again “trust me, and follow me”.

After some corridors and stairs, he opened the door to a balcony, with privileged seats for ice, television, a pool table and various other things. Trevor grabbed some sodas from the freezer and sat down at the table, taking a desperate bite of his hamburger.

“Sorry, I'm starving. Sit down, Yn, this is great, you won't regret it!”

Your arms were crossed, still trying to understand why you were there and not behind bars for trespassing. Did he own the arena?

Trevor noticed your confusion and let out a small amused smile "You don't watch hockey do you?"

"What does it matter?"

“That's a no, right?”

You nodded impatiently and Trevor chuckled, taking a sip of his soda.

“I play here. I mean, on the hockey team here. This arena is like my second home.”

Your eyes popped out “are you a hockey player? Really?"

“Don't I look like a hockey player?” he had an offended look.

“Well, all the pictures of hockey players I can remember are giant, bald guys with missing teeth. You look like you have all your teeth.”

Trevor's laugh was loud, and he gave you a delighted "well, I guess I can't be offended that you think I'm too cute to play hockey."

Your cheeks flushed with a smile. 

He pointed to the chair across from him and you sat down, feeling your stomach rumble as you opened the burger.

“Best burger in Anaheim yes or of course?”

You nodded, your mouth too full to speak, and he chuckled.

“So, Trevor” you had some soda “hockey player. Why did not you say it before?"

He shrugged “I'm a mystery guy” he leaned back in his chair having already finished his food, while you were halfway done.

“It would have avoided moments of apprehension. I was afraid of being arrested.”

“Why would you be arrested?”

“For invading the arena?” you said it like it was obvious and he laughed.

“I needed to know you weren't going to use me for my money and fame” it was your turn to laugh and he chuckled “hey!”

*

Having finished the hamburgers, you sat down on the chair in the cabin. Most of the stands were dark, but the ice lights alone lit up the entire place. You watched the zamboni clearing the ice, moving from corner to corner, sure of its work.

Your mind clouded and reality came back to you little by little. No home, no Jake, no future. A heavy sigh left your lips and you heard Trevor walk over, taking the chair next to you.

“When I was a kid I had a little dog” he started also staring at the ice “once I was walking him I accidentally released him from the leash. He fled into the middle of the forest and disappeared. I don't think I've ever cried so much. I looked for him day and night for three days until I found him. It's amazing. This story manages to combine one of the saddest moments of my life with one of the happiest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you broke the silence, not taking your eyes off the green-eyed boy.

Trevor shrugged "I thought if I shared something personal about me, you'd feel free to share what made you so sad."

He stared back at you for milliseconds, but now it was your turn to stare at the ice.

“My boyfriend dumped me” you let out a sad sigh “I know it sounds silly but, I really thought he was the right guy you know? I already had it all planned out. I majored in journalism, him with his company. We would get married in the future, we would have a house, children... is it too much to want that? Jeez, we've been dating for so many years, and overnight he just says he's tired of me?”

Trevor watched you intently, compassion seeping through his body. He tentatively put his hand on your back, afraid to cross a line, but that was the kind of affection you wanted most at that moment.

So you hugged him.

Even a little surprised, Trevor held you tight, bringing you closer. You buried your head in his neck and he continued to gently rub your back.

You lost track of how many minutes passed. Trevor respected your time and all he did was hug you. 

It was disconcerting to remember that you had almost just met him.

You pulled away a little, taking a deep breath wanting the crying to stop. Trevor still kept his hand on your back, and gently wiped away a small tear that was running down your cheek.

“I'm sorry for this. That has to be the last thing you would want to be doing on a day like today.”

“I admit that seeing you cry is really not a nice thing. But, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here” he looked at you intensely.

You take a deep breath.

“I think you need to relax,” he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Relax. What are you going to do this weekend?”

You laughed, remembering that you didn't even have a place to spend the night "my schedule of plans is being reworked at the moment".

“I'm going to Florida for All Star Weekend, want to come with me?”

“Oh sure” you laughed but something in his eyes said he was serious “are you serious?”

"Yes. I have a game there, some events, I promise to bring you back safe and sound in three days”.

"I... I can't..."

“What stops you?”

This question made you reflect. 

What held you here? In Anaheim or anywhere? 

Your plans had been crushed with a hammer, what prevented you from crossing the country with a nice -and very handsome- hockey player?

“I accept” the idea began to make sense.

"It is serious??" Trevor jumped up excitedly.

“Sounds like a cool plan” you said smiling.

“No, you're not going to make plans miss” he grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet “I make the plans, your only mission is to have fun”.

“Ok captain” you said with a genuine smile.

At those words, Trevor's hand on your back tightened. The urge to pull and kiss you was screaming in his head, but the other voice recognized how fragile you were, and he would feel like an asshole if he took advantage of that.

He took his hand from your back, scratching his head sheepishly.

This was not the right time.

But, who knows what such a trip might bring.

 *

 *

 *

Part two comes out by the end of the week!

Thanks for reading!!  :))

I would love to read your comments, suggestions, criticisms, or what you expect from this trip (you can send requests if you want)

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #matthew tkachuk

[isaut]

𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓— f!reader x chrollo lucilfer. 2.5 k, refurbished. original: ao3

synopsis: during a simple heist job two years ago, chrollo offered you a cigarette outside the library. it isn’t his fault he fell in love with you, is it? I finally felt it was time to give this fic a face lift. I’ve changed a lot since I started her, and it only felt right. If this gets a sign off from tumblr.com I’ll change the ao3 version

The skyline of Sirap is stunning, with the silhouetted buildings twinkling with lights, a hum bubbling from the streets and from the blimps in the sky. It’s a place that Chrollo has found solace in, has even made a home and a routine for himself in the past few years. He’s overstayed his welcome, set by his own nature. It’s been years since he’s fallen back into his mysterious, nomadic ways.  

Sitting in his study, Chrollo’s gaze is not on the skyline. He is not taking in the movements below him, taking up an old pastime of watching as people scurry by and wondering where they are going. Instead, his gaze is fixated on his computer, the blue light of the screen singing his eyes, drying them out. The pen in his hand clicks steadily against the stained oak of his desk. 

The steady click click click of the pen does little to soothe the worries that have begun to stir in his stomach. The unsettling feeling on his soul as he reads the message before him.

It’s an email. From his bank. A simple request for 10 000 000 jenny. With a simple message attached. 

I took care of the man who requested I eliminate your lover. I’ve forwarded his balance to you. You should receive a file from me shortly with details. Congratulations on your relationship. 

In a brief fit of rage that is quite unbecoming of the man he wishes to present himself as, Chrollo slams his hand against his desk before lending back in his chair, stewing over the message. He tears his eyes away from the message, looking instead out the large windows before him. He takes a deep breath of the not fresh air, and it does little to calm his emotions. 

As he watches a blimp float by in the sky, red light blinking against the darkness of the night, Chrollo can’t help but feel silly at how emotional he’s being. He can’t help but remember how he used to feel so indifferent, how everything felt stale. 

Stale like the air around him. 

With little reluctance, Chrollo sends the money over to his somewhat of an ally, Illumi. Their relationship was little more than constant transactions. He stands, stretches his arms above his head. Calling himself a banker had its pros: boring enough no one asked about it. It also had its cons: sometimes sitting in front of a computer for too long, researching his next thrill instead of boring into an excel spreadsheet. 

Chrollo thinks that, at the end of the day, death suits him. Even if he’s falsely climbed into the carriage. Even if his back aches from time to time. He briefly considers doing a few of the stretches his lover had recommended. His lover who had gotten him in the mess. The one where he carefully removes bricks from the walls around him and lays new bricks as he lies to cover up his reality. His lover who was still probably perched in the living room, waiting for him to come out of his office.  

The idea of you patiently waiting on the couch fills Chrollo with an uncomfortable guilt. He scrolls through his phone, looking for a text chain. He can’t find it, and resorts to drafting a new text in a small group message of just himself, Shalnark and Machi. If he took time to be truthful with himself, it felt odd texting the two of them. Even a year later, there’s an uncomfortable void, two of them in fact, of accumulated grief that press against his soul. He can’t shake it, nor can he steep in it. 

We need to have a meeting. In the next few months. 

Not ready to linger in those feelings, Chrollo locks his phone. Perhaps he’d mellow in those thoughts of the all consuming grief tonight, with your head resting on his chest as sleep washes over you. His gaze returns to the skyline. It’s dark out, it must be well past dinnertime. 

Chrollo shuts down his computer with the forceful, long press of a button. Shalnark, who set up the device for him, is berating him for not using softer methods. Chrollo pockets his phone, eager to deposit it somewhere and forget about it until morning. The journey from his office to the living room isn’t a long one, and it’s one he can chart by the way you’ve dappled yourself along the path. 

Gentle music flows from the living room, playing on the speakers that were brought from your apartment when you moved in. There’s a sweatshirt of yours on the ground that he picks up without much thought. He deposits it on the back of the couch, upon arriving to a deserted living room. 

It’s not deserted. There’s a blanket that looks like it used to be wrapped around you, slumped in the corner of the couch. There’s a stack of essays on the middle cushion, and a pen set upon them. Half a glass of wine sits on the coffee table, and beside it is your iPad, unlocked. 

Satisfaction brings the cat back. Chrollo leans over the iPad, investigating what you had been doing. He takes it upon himself to close the online shopping tab after seeing the total in the cart. 

Rounding the corner, you hold a mug of tea in your hands. The brightness of the lemongrass tea fills the air, and you take a deep breath, both of the tea and of the sight of your boyfriend. Both senses wake you up. 

Chrollo picks up the blanket, and sits in its place, throwing it over the armrest. He picks up the essay you had been in the middle of grading and flips it to the cover page. It’s thick, at least ten pages. A Turn About the Room: How Women Have Always Been the Secluded Ones. 

“Done working?” You ask him. 

Chrollo rests his arm along the backside of the couch to take you in. One of his shirts peeks out from below an oversized sweater of yours. Glasses perched atop your nose. He holds his hand out to you, palm up. 

“You should be too.”  

“I see how it is,” You say, coming over to his open hand. Your hand is still warm from holding the mug, and you slide your palm easily against Chrollo’s. 

Only, the man before you isn’t Chrollo, no, there is no mass murderer before you. No grandiose thief. He’s just Kuroro, a man with a penchant for reading and a sadness behind his eyes that’s curtained by charisma and a modern day definition of chivalry. 

A man who’s raising his other hand to take the mug from your own  hands, the heat barely bothering him. His fingers twine with yours, and he brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon it. 

“Do you?” 

You nod, leaning over the back of the couch and into his personal space and pressing a kiss against his cheek. He smells warm, of mellow, musky notes that you’ve come to associate when you think of him. Home smells like Kuroro, it smells like the cologne he wears and the aftershave in the morning, curling with a warm drink and incense in the air. 

It’s time to stop working for the day. 

Rounding the couch, you take a seat right beside Kuroro. Truly, you’re more so on top of him with the way your knee hinges over his thigh. Neither of you care. Not when you’re so close, not when the world seems to just be the two of you. 

Kuroro returns your mug to you, his now warmed hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“How’s work going?” You ask, blowing on your tea before taking a tentative sip. 

Kuroro hums at your question, resting his hand on your thigh. He rubs his hand over the smooth, plush skin. He ponders over how to answer, how to toe the line between being honest and being deceitful. It’s all for your safety after all. And here he has been, thinking he’d been doing a good job of maintaining your blissful ignorance to the world he hid in. 

“Stressful,” Kuroro admits, taking a deep breath before raising his gaze. 

“Mon pauvre,” You murmur, “Want some tea?” 

Pressing his brows together, Kuroro nods. You watch with infatuated eyes as he does just as you had earlier: blow on the warm drink, letting the steam lick up his face before taking a small sip. 

“Want to go get dinner?” You pose. “I haven’t eaten yet… We could go to the sushi place down the block.” 

The news Kuroro had received minutes earlier rings in his head. Bounces from ear to ear, unable to be ignored. He thinks of the mom and pop restaurant that had infatuated the two of you, of the kind couple who ran it. Of the grandma who greeted you everytime you came in. Who cooed over how cute of a couple you made. 

He thinks of an assassination attempt on either one of you. Of the chaos it would cause, of the rubble and the debris. He can envision your scared expression. The dead bodies of the kind family he’d come to know so well. 

It tugs at his heartstrings in a way he had believed was long since dead. Perhaps you had made him too soft. Too human. He felt the youth coursing through his soul again. 

With reluctance, Kuroro shakes his head. “I’ll make us something. Then you don’t have to get dressed.” 

“You’re so considerate,” You say with a smile. “What are we having?” 

“I have to check the fridge,” Kuroro replies. “Want to join me in the kitchen?” 

Of course you do. You’d altered your 10 year plan to accommodate the man. You’d follow him anywhere. 

Kuroro is, in his nature, secretive. It has always carried a certain charm with it: adds to the allure of his dark hair, his well-read nature and clean dress. However, you’ve picked up on a few tells he carries around with him. For instance, when he’s set on surprising you there’s a boyish glint in his brown eyes. When he’s morose in thoughts of life, both his own and philosophical, he’s oddly talkative. Always eager to find solace with his head on your chest or in your lap. And when he’s had a bad day at work, he’s quiet. 

You don’t like when he’s quiet. It’s not that you feel the need to fill silence with Kuroro. In fact, normally it’s quite the opposite. Silence is comfortable. 

The silence that hangs in the kitchen is not the comforting closeness you’ve grown to love. 

As Kuroro investigates the fridge for something to eat, you take it upon yourself to put on some music in the background. Amy Winehouse’s voice seeps through the silence. 

“Do you want tteokbokki?” Kuroro asks, holding a bag of rice cakes in his hand. His other rests on the refrigerator door. 

You come to stand beside him, peering into the fridge. It’s barren. Only a few condiments and pickled vegetables litter the shelves. You feel an emptiness in your stomach. Did you eat lunch? 

“Sure,” You say, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “Do you want some help?” 

“Just your company,” Kuroro responds smoothly, closing the door and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. The base notes of his cologne still cling to his skin. There’s cedar and vanilla. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, releasing you slowly. 

The gesture has your heart skipping a beat. You feel your face warm, feel as Kuroro’s hand slides along your shoulders. 

It makes Kuroro smile slightly, watching your reaction come over. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then opens the refrigerator open again. 

“Go sit. I’ll get you some more wine.” 

You wet your lips as you take your place on the kitchen island. Kuroro sets the chilled white wine bottle in front of you, then busies himself in the kitchen, combining spices and sauces together and simmering them over low heat. 

To keep his mind off whatever was bothering him, you launch into telling him about the essays you’ve been grading— Final papers for your class on women’s oppression in literature. You teach it every other year in the spring, and this conversation is reminiscent of one you had when you first met Kuroro. 

This one is about Rokeya’s Sultana’s Dream and Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It’s a fresh take on Austen’s work, and you’re glad to see Rokeya being cited. There are a few inconsistencies in the line of reasoning, but the student is a year too young to technically take the course. She reminds you of yourself, if you’re being completely honest— Ambitious, if not a little scatterbrained. 

Kuroro turns off the stove and sets the pot atop a woven potholder in front of you. He adds side bowls and chopsticks to the spread. 

“I’d love to take a peek,” He says, getting himself a wine glass to join in with your drinking. 

“You can. Want to see it now?” 

Kuroro shakes his head and sits next to you. “You know I’ll get sauce all over it.” 

Shrugging, you pick up your chopsticks. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spilt on an essay. “Thanks for cooking tonight.” 

“Careful, it’s hot,” Kuroro says as his you’re welcome. 

Even with his stomach pleasantly full, the overhead fan humming, and you pressed up against his side, sleep evades Chrollo. He tilts his head to the side, his hair fanned out on the too soft pillow. All pillows are too soft to him, anyways. He cushions his head for your comfort. 

Sleep’s tireless evasion from Chrollo is not one that he’s a stranger to. He often finds himself in this same position, surrounded by newfound comforts, his heart thrumming softly, his eyes on the twinkling lights of Sirap. Absentmindedly, he rubs his hand up and down your side, taking solace in the way your stomach moves with every deep breath you take. 

When you don’t drink before bed, you’re quick to rouse at his gentle petting. Sometimes, you wake at even the slightest shift. Groggily blinking away and rubbing your eyes, trying to see what’s wrong in the pitch black room. 

Not tonight. Tonight, you’re full and there’s wine in your brain. And Chrollo is alone with his thoughts. 

He turns his head to look at you. Cranes his neck to place a kiss to the top of your head without jostling you. 

There’s a grief on his soul tonight, and it’s not own he’s used to. Albeit accustomed to loss, Chrollo’s heart can’t fathom experiencing the gravity of loss again. To be responsible for someone’s death who was so innocent, who had nothing to do with the circumstances he put her in. 

So he places another kiss to your forehead, and shifts himself to wrap both of his arms around you. Invites your legs to tangle against his. He closes his eyes, and despite wishing for sleep it continues to evade him. So he takes deep breaths of you: shampoo, bodywash, oils and lotions. He lays in the dark, simply waiting. 

#chrollo x reader #by ophelia

[wolfsrainrules]

Stares off into the distance:

So.

Apparently my brain is just going to run along with various crossovers. Today, I bring you the thought of a John Wick fusion au (actually five differnet ones) with Batman/DC. (Again: a reminder that all my DC/Batman knowledge is fandom based)

@north-peach hellllppppp

Couple of thoughts for this.

The First: Janet Drake is one of the underworld's best. She's fantastic at manipulation and killing. She could walk herself out of a situation covered in blood, and convince people who saw it all happen that she never touched the body.

Tim grows up at her knee. He learns for the very best. And Janet teaches him everything she can- because despite the job and the crazy hours, and the travel, she loves her son. She wants to give him every opportunity to make it out alive from anything. Unharmed and not in trouble if possible, but alive most of all.

John Wick is a ghost story to the underworld. Tim has always been curious about people who could cause such a stir as his mother or John Wick might. When he meets him, he decides that man is Friend Shaped despite every sign saying Do Not. Despite every horror story saying it's a bad plan. (Much as he will later look at a story in a city of a cryptid said to be a manifestation of a city, a demon, a physical representation of all those who have died unavenged and decide the same)

More than that- John has ZERO idea how to handle Tim. He's a k i d. John's not gonna kill him for just...showing up all the time. It's not like he interferes or causes problems. In fact, he helps sometimes. Provides info, or a direction, a place to crash-

Tim confuses John.

Tim is also the very first to congratulate him, when he manages to get out of the underworld for Helen and mean it. To not even question the 'impossibility' of the Baba Yaga deciding he was done. John didn't bother to ask how Tim knew he'd left and why before the news actually broke out.

Tim watching John get out, go for it and SUCCEED is what gives him the courage to confess to his mother that he wanted to spend some time outside of the underworld, watching the curious case of Batman and Gotham. And Janet loves her son. So she arranges for it to be so.

They both know who Bruce Wayne is. Janet had figured it out before even Tim. She makes him promise that, if he needs her, he will call her, and lets him hunker in Gotham while he does what he wishes. She makes some trips back to Gotham, of course, but not so many that enemies can figure out there's someone important to her there. Janet is THE Femme Fatale. She has plenty of people who would go after her boy. And she's not having that.

Tim doesn't actually PLAN to get involved in vigilante life. At all. He's underworld born and bred. He's a survivor, manipulative, and can be a level of cunning and cold and ambitious that always makes his mother so so proud. He's not a do-right kind of person. He's not someone who does things for people outside of "me and mine" without a reason. Or if it goes against his moral code.

Except Jason Todd becomes one of "Me and Mine". He's a friend. A nosy vigilante who sees that his friend is alone and sets off his instincts as dangerous yes, but also as 'not a civilian' in a conventional sense. He's not a street rat, but he's not...normal either. And Tim? Tim, once he decides this Robin is his Robin, well he can't very well leave him undefended doing this ALONE can he? Though he understands by working with Robin, he cant use the tried and true methods of murder, as it could get pinned to Robin or Batman and he can't have that. If he wants to fly with Jason, he needs to fly by his rules. So a new vigilante is born that runs the streets with Robin. A little more vicious but in a cold and precise manner. Exacting. He doesn't let Jason go after his mother without doing the information gathering, and stops his death by Joker.

For a time, Tim finds himself pulled into the Wayne family, and he...thrives with them. He's happy. He learns under them. Expands his skillset, and still sent out to learn from people around the world. He is NOT fool enough to turn that away- his mother would somehow KNOW wherever she was if he turned down that kind of opportunity and he did not want to imagine the disappointment and response. NO THANK YOU.

When the underworld is kicked like a hornets' nest by John Wick coming back into the fold, Tim is...curious. He's kept an eye on John and Helen, if not stayed in direct and constant contact with them. He hadn't expected John to step foot back into the underworld.

And then his mother sends word to him, calls him back to the Continental, warns that the underworld is getting REALLY kicked up as a result. Tim...needs to go. He cannot imagine NOT answering his mother.

He arranges things on the Gotham end. Says temporary goodbyes and gets to the NY branch asap. Beats his mother there.

Makes it just in time to see John Wick pull a gun on Continental Grounds and shoot a newly crowned seat at the Table and is caught up in the chaos.

His family are going to end UP in the chaos themselves, because they will not cannot leave Tim in it alone. The connections Tim has are MUCH a surprise, he's done very well in hiding exactly what he used to do, and WHY he has a contact and hand in everything, and can ALWAYS get his family what they need. The Second: Tim Drake still grows up at Janet's knee. He learns it all. Thrives in it all. He ends up NOT going down the road of hitman or assassin or any number of things he could have done. Instead Tim Drake chooses to be a Information Broker that claims Gotham eventually, and by means of getting taken in by Bruce, the Wayne Manor and grounds around it become neutral grounds much like the Continental, if you want Tim's services to remain open to you. If you pull the underworld onto the ground...well. Just because Tim goes by Bruce's rules, and just because he PREFERS the route of nonviolence does not in any way mean he would not kill to protect it. To prove a point. To make a statement. To allow one to get away with it is to allow danger to his family and he WILL NOT, no matter that they all are perfectly capable of defending themselves. The Underworld is entirely different than their villains. To not kill the offender is to open themselves to weakness and targets. So Tim WILL.

Gotham is not Wayne Manor. The City is fair game to the underworld. Wayne Manor is NOT.

The Third:

Janet raises her boy at her knee still. Tim chooses the route of Doctor instead. He sets up in Gotham, and decides he likes the foolish vigilantes enough to step in when it's needed and save their lives. He becomes known to the Batfam as a Doc that will not ask questions, but is absolutely one of the most capable people they've seen. If Leslie isn't available, or not close enough, they go to Tim, if Tim doesn't find them, because he certainly seems to know when they need it.

The Batfam does sometimes find him having dealt with Some Things underworld involved so they are WORRIED about their idiot, despite the fact that Tim can and will Wreck everyone that causes problems in his area. He has also shown up stripping off blood covered scrub tops or whatever cause hes coming in hot from another healing thing, and they all wonder and worry and just- it's fine. Everything is fine.

They worry anyway.

Despite the fact that Tim has friends seemingly everywhere, from all walks of life, favors all over, and connections to seemingly everything as a result of his work. (He has absolutely been offered favors as payment, hits, assassinations and all sorts of things. He never turns them away. Janet taught him better. Instead he has markers and logs, books and written promises all stacked away. He remembers them all of course, but better to have written proof somewhere, something official. The Continental holds it for him.

The Fourth:

Gotham HAS a Continental Hotel due to all of its.....everything. Janet Drake runs it. Tim knows EVERYONE and everything, and has absolutely run the counter often. Bruce doesn't know what it is. Ra's absolutely does. Tim is the next to take over the branch and EVERYONE knows it.

He ends up occasionally, when people step on his morals, providing information to the Bat.

Jason managed to find his way inside by accident, and may or may not get himself heavily involved in the underworld even BEFORE the Red Hood thing.

The Fifth:

Same concept as 4 except BRUCE WAYNE runs the Continental and the ripples of everything therein.

#crossoverfun #john wick #batman #tim drake #crossover fun #look idk what happened #brain go brrrr #dc #long post

[symbioticfic]

Producing Pleasure: Prologue

(Main story of Idol Alternate Universe)

Tags: Original Characters, no smut, just a teaser, an intro to the world

This is an alternate universe. Some events may differ from real life.

Thanks to @twice-inamillion The Company series for making me revive this idea from the drafts. Check out their awesome work on their blog.

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

“What?!”

“I said, I want you to produce our new girl group.” Mrs. Kwon repeats herself. You rub your face in disbelief, hoping your CEO is joking.

“With all due respect Ma’am, I’m already a leader of a group and you put me in charge to become our group creative director. That’s quite a lot. Why not choose Eunji or Keenan for the job?” you plead your case. All your focus is for your co-ed group, Twelve Six, along with Eunji and Keenan. With being creative director for your group and sometimes groups under your label, you don't want more stuff in your hand.

“Well, Eunji is also helping out as a composer for Phoenix. And Keenan is broadening our A&R connections. We may be an up and coming label in this industry, but we are still short staffed.” Slumping back to your chair, gears in your brain are working hard to find a way out of this.

“Then why don’t you hire someone who has experience doing this kind of stuff? I know you have the money to find one. If the three of us are spread thin like this, when are we going to make music?”

Mrs. Kwon always says that the three of you were geniuses and is the reason why OTB is the rising star of companies in Kpop. Take Shamrock for example. A thirteen member boy group and the first idol group under OTB. You recommended a talented Japanese street dancer that you used to battle and Keenan found a genius kid producer online. Both of them become important members of Shamrock. As for Eunji, she trained OTB’s first GG, Phoenix in vocals. With her and her sister, they composed and produced music for the five member group, resulting in them competing in the Red Sea of girl groups right now. Also not to mention, your group Twelve Six. Your group’s music is able to breakthrough the public listeners. Decades after the last big co-ed group, finally Twelve Six changed that. Now, Korea sees Twelve Six as “Music for the people” because of your group penmanship and music move and touch many people's souls, not just in Korea but also the world.

“Because I trust you and I see potential in you to be a great producer.” there she goes again, putting huge faith in you. Ever since joining your label, Out of The Box (OTB) Studios, you have been one of her favourites. As an experience street dancer and performer, also having a brain being a portal to fantasy world says Mrs. Kwon, she has pushed you to the limits. She even goes as far as creating you a co-ed group with her youngest daughter Kwon Eunji and a Korean American rapper named Keenan Shin. The three of you were born on the same day and year, the twelfth of June, hence the name Twelve Six comes from.

With all the money in the world and full trust on you, Mrs. Kwon will do anything to help you to become one of the greatest artists in K-pop. But you doubt your ability if you are given another responsibility.

“Listen, Choi Sesang.” you sit up straight as your CEO calls you by full government, “Just please look into this file and consider it.” a brown file is presented in front of you. Reluctantly, you take it and open it. The first name on the paper almost made you jump out of your seat. You flip through the pages and surprisingly most of the names are familiar to you.

“Ma’am, there are-”

“Yes, they were idols. Some had troubles with their past companies and ended their contracts, and some I bought them out of their contracts.” bloody hell this rich woman. Her way of using money to get what she thinks is the best for the company still baffles you even after years knowing her, “They deserve a second chance and I know you’re up for the job. And rumour has it, you have your ways with girls.” she gives you a teasing look.

“Your daughter really has a nasty mouth, you know that?” Mrs. Kwon laughs at you cursing her youngest daughter.

“I don’t care if what Eunji implied was the truth or not. But I do have my own eyes.” she says after calming herself, “Your relationship with the Phoenix girls is admirable. They see you as a brotherly figure and a safe space to talk to. Those girls are strong minded and some are hard to get through, but you easily befriend the girls. That is enough for me to know you’re the right person for this project.” you look down to the file in your hand, taking in all what Mrs. Kwon says. A heavy sigh escapes your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Splendid!” she claps her hand in joy, “Also, there is one thing I need to tell you.”

Here you go, the catch in all of this, “Doing this job means you have got out of your way to get the job done. I know you are a good kid and have been staying clean until now. But sorry to say son, you have to get your hands dirty with this one. It's part of the industry, the system. No matter how long you try to avoid it, your time will come.”

Saying those words with a beaming smile so easily creeps you off. Well, a CEO of a K-pop company is not exactly the most morally right person in the world. Mrs. Kwon has always been brutal when it comes to business and you are led into one of her traps. Situations like this remind you where Eunji gets her nasty personality from.

Defeated, you know there’s no way out of this. Your fate has been sealed by the devil. Already, you try to drown your mind to come to terms with this twisted system. With heavy heart, you look straight at Mrs. Kwon. You can see insanity behind her eyes.

“So… do the job by any means necessary?”

“Correct! There you go, already getting a hang of it.” it’s supposed to be a laugh of joy for Mrs. Kwon, but it feels like she’s laughing at you. Soon enough, you will be playing with people's lives just like her.

“The girls will be coming in next week. Prepare yourself, mind and body. I have a feeling you will like them.” with a smirk, she leaves the room. You groan as you throw yourself back into the chair. The dreaded day is near. By next week you will become one of those industry scumbags. You love performing and singing, but you despise the industry. Being in it long enough to know stuff. The girl that you will be working with surely also knows a thing or two.

Thinking about your doomed future only makes you mad at yourself. Feeling suffocated, you pack your stuff and go home, not before leaving a text in the group chat.

Chat Room

Three silly peas in a pot

You

@Enzy your mother is a fucking witch

Enzy

WHAT THE FUCK?!

I mean you’re not wrong

But still…

WHAT THE FUCK?!

THAT’S MY MUM YOU PRICK!

K.S.

LOL 😂

Dorms now

I need this juicy story 👹

_ _ _ _ _

Three days since you operate as the main producer for OTB’s new girl group. You’ve met with the company staff and instructors over the week to discuss the training program. These three days have been orientation and waiting for the rest of the girls to join the company. Today is the day where they all finally present and training will begin to ramp up.

You arrive at the company at eight. Not wanting any problem, you do a morning check up every day just to make sure. After doing that, you take a sip of your black coffee while looking through the girl's profile again. You seriously can not wrap your head around the names on the list. Mrs. Kwon really is a crazy businesswoman for getting these girls to become trainees again in your company.

“Damn they’re hot.” startled, you almost spilled your hot coffee onto the papers. You look back to see Keenan peeking over your shoulder. His curly dark brown hair really needs a cut. It almost pokes your eye.

“Could you not sneak up on me like that?”

“You’re the one who’s busy staring at these profiles.”

“Hey!” he takes a seat next to you and slides the file over to him. You let him be, as you need a break from reading those papers over and over again.

“Still can’t believe they are trainees here.” Keenan says.

“Me too.”

“Mrs. Kwon is one damn good negotiator.”

“You can say that again. It’s like a person playing DnD and always rolls Nat 20 on persuasion.” Keenan laughs at your cheeky joke.

“Yeah… so, which one you gonna fuck first?”

“I- what?! Bro, shut up.” you punch his arm only for him to laugh even more.

“Come on, seriously bro. There are some hot chicks right here. If I were you, I would try every single one of them.”

“But I’m not you dumbass. I’m not some guy who will fuck every girl he sees.”

“Not yet.”

“Fuck off.” Keenan's laugh now turns hysterical. He’s always been like this. Being from Brooklyn makes him more frontal than your average Korean. He’s been teasing you since both of you met. With your ability in speaking English, you bonded easily with him. You also help him get accustomed with his homeland culture. But it seems you can’t take Brooklyn out of Keenan.

You take back your file from Keenan and walk off, “Ay! Where are you going?”

“Training is almost starting! I’m needed in the dance room!” you shout back at him.

“Okay then! Tell me if you score on one of them!” you don’t look back and flip him off. You can hear Keenan laugh fading as you walk further away from him.

The dance room for trainees is in the basement. Everything related to the trainees are in the basement. Only the ones who debut are the only ones who can experience the freedom of the city view from the artist dance room upstairs. For the trainees, the dark and damp basement is their prison. Some even will never see the day of light from the dungeon. Sound of blaring music can be heard at the end of the hallway. The girls may be stretching right now.

Other than being the main producer for the group, Mrs. Kwon also personally assigned you to be one of the dance instructors. Talk about a burden. It’s not the first time you are teaching a class. During trainee days, you already helped to train the fellow members of Shamrock and Phoenix. It’s just for a few sessions because Shamrock have a capable and experienced dance line and for Phoenix they are natural performers. Not the same can be said for this group. Maybe one or two names stood out, but they are nowhere near the talent as your fellow labelmates when they first join the company. And your part is to train them to be on par to standards.

Standing before the dance room door, you take a deep breath before twisting the door handle. The sound of your arrival alerts the girls. Quickly, they line up in a line with one of them scrambling to turn off the music before joining the line.

“Good morning PD-nim.” they greet you in unison.

“Good morning. At ease.” you say that, but they are clearly tense. Fifteen girls standing in front of you. You recognize their faces with a few unfamiliar ones. Some of these girls had a respectable career as idols. They are without a group due to them being in a project group making their contract length shorter than normal or suing their way out of their contract because of how stupid their company was. Some were in a group that disbanded. Others are trainees from different companies. Now, here they are starting from zero once more.

Knowing you have to keep professionalism, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Starting today, you will have these girls' fate on strings. Toying with their dreams, giving them false hope. Just like Mrs. Kwon you thought. You open your eyes and give them a big smile.

This is when you notice Mrs. Kwon foul tricks, attacking your weakness: boobs. Most of these girls have sizeable to huge tits. You felt your cock twitch at the sight of the girls wearing tight sports bras, pushing their boobs together. One of them has a big enough bust, it outlines her baggy shirt.

“My name is Choi Sesang. For those who don’t know, I will be the main producer for this debut project as well as your dance instructor. Pleasure to finally meet you all.”

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

If you made it this far, thank you for reading. Like I said on the top, this was an idea that was collecting dust in my google docs. @twice-inamillion The Company series really got me thinking about this idea again.

I already have a few names for the girls: Chaehyun, Natty, Hyeju, and Xiaoting so far, with the first three already having a rough idea for it.

Recommendations for idol names are gladly accepted with the general prompt of the story would be helpful also.

I know I said a Pokémon story is on its way but that's on hold for now. I have struggles for the smut scene of that story. Wait a little more.

See you next time 😄

#kpop smut #smut #original character #kpop au #kpop girls #hyejoo smut #chaehyun smut #xiaoting smut #natty smut

[hvaneyflowers]

Mistletoe **********

Kevin Magnussen x femreader!

Three times Kevin tries to kiss you under a Mistletoe, and one time when he does.

It's the most beautiful time of the year. Lights fill the streets, spreading so much cheer. I should be playing in the winter snow. But I'ma be under the mistletoe...

The sound of the radio made Kevin smile. It was Christmas Day and your first together. Kevin and you started dating in April after being introduced to each other by your best friend's cousin. You quickly discovered many things in common and went out on your first date the next day.

Now, you're at home with your family. Your mom insisted on having both of you, so you took Kevin to your hometown in England. He loved it since the beginning. It was so beautiful and smelled like Christmas everywhere. He simply loved it. And he loved your family, too. Your father wasn't so sure of him at first but ended up loving him at the end of the first day. Your mother loved him from the first minute. The same with your little niece. She loved her new Uncle K since he told her how beautiful she was and that she looked like a princess.

Although he loved being with you and your family, he knew it wouldn't be easy to have time alone with you. If you weren't with your niece playing in the backyard, you were helping your mom cook or shopping with your sister. He wanted to have some time alone with you under the mistletoe. Even if that sounded cliché, he desired to kiss you under it. It was your first Christmas together, and doing it would be perfect.

So now, he just needs to try to kiss you under the mistletoe. An easy job, right?

First attempt

"Hi, honey, what are you doing?" Kevin asked you, entering the kitchen.

"Hi. I'm just washing some dishes," you answered without looking at him.

"Great. Do you have plans for this afternoon? I thought we could go for hot chocolate. What do you think?" he asked nervously.

"You want to go for hot chocolate even if we have plenty of it here?" you asked, confused.

"Something like that," he laughed nervously.

"Well... It sounds great to me. Having some time alone would be amazing! Don't you think?" you smiled.

"Yeah, it would be!" he smiled back, happy to know that maybe he could kiss you under the mistletoe.

"Give me 5 minutes to change, and we can go!" you kissed the top of his lips and ran upstairs.

Kevin smiled, seeing you running upstairs. Finally, he could have his time alone with you. He was so happy that he forgot about the little girl at the kitchen table.

"Uncle K, can I go with you? I want hot chocolate, too!" she said, making her puppy eyes.

Kevin couldn't believe what his ears heard. The little brat wanted to go with them. Damn! He needed to make sure she wouldn't ask you or you would say yes.

"Well, I am so sorry, but this would be just adults, you know? No kids," he said.

After hearing this, the little girl started crying, and Keving tried to calm her down, but it didn't work. When you came down, you saw your 4-year-old niece crying in Kevin's arms.

"What happened here?" you asked.

"I want to go!" your niece cried.

"She overheard us and now wants to go with us. I said no, and she's crying." Kevin explained to you.

"I want to go with you, Auntie! Please. I'll be a good a good girl, I promise." she tried to convince you with her puppy eyes.

"Oh, honey, don't cry, alright? You can go with me and Kevin, and we'll buy an extra hot chocolate for you." you kissed her head.

Kevin only huffed in anger and followed both of you out. His first idea didn't work, and thanks to that little girl. Now, he needs to think something else.

yourusername

liked by kevinmagnussen, hulkkenberg, and 50.000 more.

tagged: kevinmagnussen

yourusername: a hot chocolate date with my two fav persons!

view all 40 comments.

username4: aww so cute!

username8: are you and Kevin together in England?

username1: I wonder who is the other person.

username9: I think is her niece.

kevinmagnussen: ❤️

Second attempt

After having hot chocolate, your niece wanted to go ice skating. Kevin viewed this as another opportunity to kiss you as he saw the mistletoe hanging at the entrance of the rink. He planned to take you there and kiss you. Easy.

"This is so fun!" your niece screamed.

She didn't know how to skate, but you and Kevin were teaching her. Your heart melted as you saw Kevin skating hand in hand with her. You knew he would make a fantastic dad someday, and wish it would be with you. Your niece completely adored him, and you were a little jealous of his attention to her but couldn't complain. He looked so hot with a child in his arms.

After a few minutes, your niece made friends with a kid of her age and left you and Kevin alone. You both started skating together while laughing.

"Sophie is right. This is so fun." you laughed.

"Indeed, it is." he laughed, too.

"We should do this every Christmas!" you suggested.

"I agree. You look so beautiful when you ice skating," he told you while putting your hair behind your ear.

You didn't notice, but he was slowly guiding you to the entrance where the Mistletoe was hanging. When you arrived at it, he took you by your waist and leaned to kiss you. You smiled knowing what he wanted to do, and did the same.

But, before you could kiss, the scream of your niece put you apart. You looked around in fear of what happened and saw your little niece lying on the cold ice. She tried to skate by herself and fell down. You ran to her and didn't turn to see Kevin's face. Fortunately, your niece was okay. She wasn't hurt, but Kevin's opportunity went straight to the trash.

yourusername

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tagged: kevinmagnusse

yourusername:❄️⛸️

view all 50 comments.

username3: couple goals.

username5: aww, your little niece looks so cute!

username2: so cute that you took your niece with you!

username9: I wish I could see Kevin as a father soon!

username6: how is Kev with your niece?

yourusername: he's the best. She is completely in love with him!

username8: so beautiful! Couple goals!

Third attempt

"Hey, babe, I'm going to the mall, do you want to come?" you asked Kevin.

He was lying on your bed watching his phone. He looked so sexy and concentrated, you thought. He looked up at you and smiled. This could be his new opportunity. He was sure that the mall would have a mistletoe, because, why not?

"Sure. I'll change and see you downstairs." he smiled.

While changing, he was praying your niece wouldn't come this time. He didn't have anything against her. He really liked her, but he wanted to have some time alone. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve, and that meant more family in your house, and in consequence, less time together alone.

"Ready," he said walking to the door.

"Great! Look who's coming with us," you said, fixing your niece's coat.

Kevin's smile faded down as he saw your niece. Amazing, he thought. You three got into the car and drove to the mall. During the journey, your niece thought it was a good idea to sing some carols. You agreed with her and started singing Silent Night, but the silence was all Kevin wanted at that moment.

You arrived at the mall and did your shopping. While you were distracted by your niece, Kevin was looking for a mistletoe. He found one at the entrance of a clothes store. He smiled and turned to see you. He was sure this would be the time he would kiss you.

"Babe, do you want to go to that clothes shop? It seems it has some good clothes," he asked you.

"Sure. I trust in your sense of style," you laughed.

"I'm hungry!" your niece said before entering the store.

"We can go to eat after seeing this store," Kevin said.

"But I want to eat now" she insisted.

"I think we can go to eat right now and then, when we're finished, we can return to the store." you smiled.

Kevin huffed in annoyance but accepted going to eat. Your niece and you had hamburgers and french fries, and Kevin had a salad. He was desperate to finish eating so you could go to the store, but you and your niece were so deep playing with the toys your niece's hamburger brought.

At the time you both were finished and returned to the store, it was already closed. And Kevin's opportunity vanished again.

yourusername

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yourusername: Shopping day!

view all 50 comments.

username8: you're so cute!

username10: I wish I could have Kevin Magnussen as my boyfriend!

username1: I know! I'm so jealous!

username17: you both make a great couple!

username78: love u both!

The Kiss

It was Christmas Eve, and as Kevin imagined the day before, you were busy with your family and dinner. All of your family came to your parent's house to celebrate Christmas. He met your cousins, aunts, nephews, nieces, and friends, too. The house was full with no space or time alone. He huffed sadly as he saw you in the kitchen with your cousins. There was no way he could kiss you under the mistletoe. Sad, he decided to go for a walk in the snow.

You were in the kitchen chatting with your cousins when your eye caught Kevin's shade. He looked sad, and you immediately worried. Wasn't he enjoying the party? you thought. You excused yourself and went to see where Kevin was. One of your cousins told you he went outside, so you put your coat on and followed him, wondering what happened.

You found him sitting on a bench near your house. He looked sad and your heart broke into thousands of pieces. You thought he loved to be there with you and your family, but seeing him like that, made you wonder if he really liked it or not.

"Hey, what happened? Are you alright?" you asked, sitting next to him.

Kevin looked up and was surprised to see you there. Guilt crossed his mind. You were so happy with your family and now you were there with him and his sadness.

"Is everything alright?" you asked again.

"Yes, I'm okay, don't worry," he tried to sound happy.

"Yes, you seem like that," you rolled your eyes.

"Sorry. I know I was a jerk," he apologized.

"What is happening Kev? I thought you liked here," you said sadly.

"It's not that. It's just I've been trying all weekend to kiss you under the mistletoe but everything seemed to be against me," he confessed with his head in his hands.

"Oh, honey." you covered your mouth with your hands in surprise. "That's so sweet of you. I'm so sorry that I've been busy with my family, but I really want to kiss you under the mistletoe. You just had to ask and I would have said yes." you smiled.

"Would you like to be my mistletoe kiss?" he asked you with a big smile.

"Of course, my love." you smiled.

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[boyfhees]

🗗 MORE THAN ROOMMATES | k. ayato

precis. you plan to move out of your apartment and ayato sees his whole life flash before his eyes.

wc. 10.3k please please please read this do not ignore because of the word count. please read it for ayato in silk robes

genre. humour, roommates ! au, modern ! au, suggestive, roommate to lovers ( ? )

warnings. profanities, this gets sort of sensual pls, suggestive, mentions of sex, disclaimer : there's no style & only writing, very bad jokes i'm unhinged with this one, more or less an inner monologue, unsolicited crack, kys and kms jokes ( ? ), drinking, mentions of dying, open ending ? it's pretty obvious if you'd ask me, thoma and sara are absolutely shit at giving advices, both the reader and ayato are absolute simps oh god please forget i ever wrote this ( actually don't. come talk to me about this )

note. repost :( my brother deleted my account sighh anyway please read this ig this is my fav work ever rip. inspired by this fic by my dearest mai go read it

ayato has no business living in an overly expensive apartment with a broken heater and cracked ceilings. in fact, he can instead move out any second. one call and his chauffeur would pick him up, another call and the kamisatos will have another villa signed under their names— well, ayato’s name, to be specific. for someone with overflowing wealth and a father who’s an excellent architect, ayato is surely down to earth.

his sister, ayaka, drops by every few weeks to check up on her brother. well, honestly, she only arrives to check up on the apartment and try another shot at persuading her brother to move out, only to return back home with nothing but failure in her palms. much to your surprise, she even offered the landlady a contract to buy the apartment. ‘we can buy, renovate and decorate this— then you and ayato can live happily!’ her exact words, but you declined. after all, you can not keep leeching off the kamisatos and living lavishly with a million dollars debt threatening to decapitate you in your sleep. ayato has done enough by handling your expenses when you were fired from your previous job.

talking about you, your life in the apartment isn’t any better. if you ignore the benefits of being roommates with ayato— which solely includes free boba and the opportunity to watch him in a silk robe every time he takes a shower— you don’t have any reasons to not move out of the apartment either. surprisingly enough, you’re sure that if you continue to living there and keep using the dark and narrow alleyway as your shortest way home from the university campus, you’ll be murdered luxuriously. 

that was four months ago, though, when you were a new resident who paid an offensively high rent for a shitty apartment and saw yourself on the streets in the near future. the you from four months ago is probably cursing the hell out of you; not even probably, it’s certain. every night, you entertain your two lovely, semi-functional brain cells telling you to gather your stuff and move out the day you get your pay cheque. 

you’re reminded to move in with your parents again after you had the nastiest argument with them and moved out impulsively, saying you’ll ‘slay’ out there, in the world, all alone. well, surprise, you’re not. instead, the world is slaying you by having you juggle between three part time jobs while managing your hair-greying college schedule and an apartment who’s faucet goes out every other day. that’s when the landlady gave you the happiest news you’d heard in months : a roommate. 

now, you see, for most people, having a roommate would be troublesome. no one wants to share the kitchen or their favourite spot on the couch or something, but the day you were informed about your roommate moving in, you were on cloud nine. you had a drink, blanked out completely in the middle of the living room for absolutely no reason, even cleaned the apartment extra carefully the next day for dear roommate. you’re crazy for that, you had your reasons. 

first, the rent. thankfully, it is still around how it was before with a bare fifteen percent increase; but hey, you no longer have to carry the financial burden yourself and have your conscience call you an imbecile every night before you drift into sleep. moreover, you’d finally have someone to fix the faucet, change the bulbs, and most importantly, hear you venting about how shit the apartment is. you were also excited about your roommate being the ‘nice, college student in his early twenties’ guy, as informed by your landlord, but that’s for another day. 

and that is how you had ayato as your roommate. his first look was intimidating. you remember wondering if he’s actually a college student and not some undercover assassin. but again, he looks too, if anything, decent, to be an assassin. ayato likes his boba extra sweetened and his closet consists of anything but hoodies and sweatpants. he watches bunny videos in free time and feeds stray cats whenever they come around. he also cooks two meals a day and ends up ordering the third one so you don’t have to overwork yourself after all the part time jobs and stressful classes, helps you with assignment, puts you to bed if you fall asleep in living room— yeah, no. he’s way too decent to be an assassin. 

ayato thinks he’s doing a wonderful job at being a roommate who you can depend upon. from the first hour of the day to the last one at night, he helps you, greets you, stays by your side; he’s an amazing roommate, and it’s a fact. thoma confirmed, and sara thinks he’s being a little too generous but hey, it’s about you; and when it comes to you, nothing is ‘too much’ for aayto. 

so when you tell him on one fine sunday morning that you’ll be moving out next month, ayato sees his life flash before his eyes. it’s been two days since you’ve informed him and he’s still too stunned to speak. 

“hey,” ayato greets you in the kitchen, fetching a glass from a shelf higher than usual. there’s something off about the atmosphere, and it’s definitely not you. so, your eyes travel to ayato as he pours himself a glass of ice-cold water at the ass crack of dawn. “so you’re really moving out?” 

what the fuck. 

no because, you’re still half asleep. it’s half past five, you’re getting water and ayato waltz into the kitchen with his robe half draping off one of his shoulders and a raspy morning voice that has you weak in knees. perhaps, you expect a sweet little ‘good morning’ with his trademark smile that has the landlord’s daughter wrapped around his finger— and you too, honestly. instead, you’re met with a frown hanging on his face and a question about the topic that was last brought up about two days ago. 

“yeah. surprise?” you let out the fakest laugh before letting it die just as quickly the moment the sound of your cracked voice hits your ears. actually, you don’t even care about how you look and sound. what’s more important is that ayato isn't acting like himself. well, he’s the one to react quickly and not resurrect a dead conversation two days after, especially when you’re in the process of mourning and grieving about the lack of ayato you’ll have in your life from the next month onward. 

see, you have a disease, and it’s terminal. you could’ve moved out the day you moved in, or the day ayato moved in, or on any day in the past four months, but your condition didn’t allow you. first, it was the lack of green money in your hands to get a better apartment and after ayato moved in, he became the problem. 

you’re down bad. outsold. you have one look at a fine man and you wobble on your knees; one sight of toned muscles and you’re a goner. flatline. dead. there’s no going back. the first time you saw ayato was after you came back from your classes with a cake in your hands to celebrate the welcoming of your roommate. you opened the door and before you stood ayato with his drenched hair and silk robe, smelling like primroses and everything that the man of your dreams could have ever.

he shot you a smile, and you were sold. 

forget the cake, you had a whole five-star exquisite cuisine standing in front of you. rent was no longer a problem, you didn’t mind living under leaking roofs and honestly, even if someone murdered you, you wouldn’t mind. you have been planning to move out for a long time but if that was going to be the scene you came home to everyday, you didn’t mind any of the problems offered by the apartment. 

that is what ayato did to you the day he moved in. 

so, making a decision about moving out and telling that to him was a torture. not only were you losing your man— how funny— but also your daily free boba supplier. it was a life changing, heart wrenching, decision; but it had to be done. 

you shoot him a smile, patting his shoulders as you walk towards your room. “hey, i’m not leaving until next month so don’t think you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” you hear ayato let out an exaggerated sigh, one that could blow away the wig of your mathematics professor. you don’t know what occurred to him at five-thirty in the morning when he showed up with the saddest frown ever, but thinking he’s upset about you moving out would be getting ahead of yourself and making a clown of yourself once again, in the circus that your life is. 

.

.

.

“dude, what the hell—” that’s thoma, and the saccharine words of compliments leaving his mouth are for none other than ayato. “what’s with your face?” 

no no, not only his face; in fact, ayato, as a whole, is fucked up. he didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night and you can blame some netflix shitshow for that. and just when he was about to fall asleep, his hydration requirements led him into the kitchen and the rest is history. 

“why is she moving out?” ayato mumbles in the most disappointed and sorrow ridden voice. he didn’t even sound this heart broken when his last girlfriend dumped him in the middle of victoria’s secret because he didn’t help her choose, you know, her lingerie; as insane as it sounds. thoma hasn’t seen ayato this dejected in over a year and the blond head is convinced his one and only close friend, his bro, is losing his mind.

a second passes, thoma repeats ayato’s question in his head. “she, as in yn?” and the next second, he gets his answer. thoma sits straight, back tightened, eyes fixed on ayato who’s very, uh, desolate right now. he has a class in ten minutes but bros before everything, and especially before an hour-long lesson about shit newton did as a scientist. his priority at the moment is to beat some sense into his friend in the politest way possible. 

“why shouldn’t she move out— i mean, have you looked at the apartment? it sucks ass, i’m surprised she made it till four months, i would’ve killed myself on the spot if i had to live there.” ayato shoots him a desperate look, a whine rolling off his pout as thoma’s face scrunches up into disgust because the fuck kind of behaviour is ayato exhibiting in middle of the cafe. “you know, you should move out too. i can clearly see the damage that place has done to you.” 

oh no, the damage is yet to be done. it’s happening slowly, gradually, slower than the tortoise in that tortoise and the hare race, slower than a sloth, drop by drop, sucking the life out of him. ayato doesn’t have any interest in that sorry excuse of an apartment. instead, he’s interested in you. the day he moved in, you appeared in front of him as an angel. an angel with a cake, strawberry flavoured cake that he absolutely despises but you, on the other hand, looked edible— he means, you looked beautiful. you always do, even when you’re wasted after four bottles and a plattering mess. 

god, ayato thinks it’s a blessing to be able to wake up in the same apartment as you. you may say you’re a potato but for ayato, you’re the longest and spiciest chilli in the bunch, he said what he said. and now you’re moving out, he can already spot the differences in the apartment. your stuff is no longer lying here and there since you’ve started arranging your things.

ayato can sense his descent into madness for several reasons. first, you’re just a roommate so why the fuck does he care if you live with him or move to mars; and second, you lived with him for two months without complaints so, why do you want to move out now. he wants to rip his hair out, drink bleach and sleep, hoping to wake up with a better thinking process and stability. 

ayato feels like he has been stripped of humanity, all because you’re moving out in less than thirty days. 

“hi— shit— you need to start sleeping, ayato!” this is sara, and once again, the elite words of compliments are thrown at none other than the boba man. kujou takes a seat next to thoma, observing ayato as he whines and sighs into his hand, looking like a sleep deprived, homeless man who probably has post traumatic stress disorder, but it’s literally just him crying over you, much to sara’s unawareness. “is he okay?” 

thoma shakes his head, taking a sip from his drink, shooting her a ‘does-he-look-like-he’s-okay’ look before sighing at his friend’s state once again. “yn’s moving out and he’s not coping well.”

sara leans back on her chair, rolling eyes at ayato’s diseased situation. it’s surprising that someone hasn’t reported him to the infirmary or some asylum; but she knows the cure. unlike ayato, sara isn’t stupid. she knows; studying criminology gives her an advantage of knowing how to read between the lines, or in this case, ayato’s whines. 

“it’s about time you accept your feelings.” what. she states and it feels like ayato’s heart skipped several beats. he looks at her wide eyed, flabber-gasted, with jaw dropped to the floor. “what? i know you like her. you’re fooling no one with that stupid face of yours.”

no, what sara’s saying is stupid. you’re a roommate. his roommate. ayato’s roommate. mate of the room. nothing less and certainly, nothing more. you don’t share a single class. his mornings start with your face and then ayato doesn’t see you for the whole day, unless you bump into each other on the campus, which is rarer than him getting hit by a meteoroid and dying. ain’t no way, he likes you. sure, you’re pretty. god, you’re gorgeous. human embodiment of goddesses but it’s just the beauty. apart from being extremely gorgeous and someone who ayato probably values more than his life, you’re basically a no one. 

kamisato ayato trusts his instincts, and his instincts tell him that he doesn’t like you. he likes you, just not in that way, not the like-like. not the i-want-to-surrender-my-life-to-you kind of like, not the i-want-to-make-out-with-you kind of like. okay, maybe the last part is a lie— but he still stands by his words. 

“you’re gaslighting m—”

“you’re gaslighting yourself.” thoma cuts him mid-sentence. “i still have the screenshots from the day you spammed me after yn posted that pic. don’t even try to deny.” 

wait, that happened? 

the, going crazy and spamming after seeing your post? ayato likes to think he was drunk. 

“you we’re sober, by the way. never been more, honestly.” and oh god, he’s done for. but that’s okay, right? you’re his roommate, and it’s normal for a roommate to aggressively talk about how pretty their roommate is, isn’t it? ayato believes it is normal. it’s as normal as drinking coffee to sleep better. a human appreciating another human’s beauty, what’s so wrong with that? one should support their kind, mutualism is the way through the ecosystem. rhizobium doesn’t live symbiotically for nothing, after all. it’s just give and take— 

“are you going to say something or…?” sara interjects ayato’s trail of useless thoughts. he still doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. he doesn’t like you, right, right— it’s clear in his head, he just needs to put it in words. he’s unable to carry out the last part. “okay, if you don’t like yn, then why do you have a problem with her moving out?” 

ah, yes. now we’re talking. the life in ayato’s eyes revisits. “look, look— she’s a great cook,” hah, what a liar. you’re a cook, not a great one. you don’t even cook in the apartment to begin with. the kitchen belongs to mister kamisato ayato and you sit by the counter to watch him cook and add another ten to fifteen years in your life. “and she can clean,” that’s something you’ve always been good at. truthfully, you don’t mind cleaning or doing any of the chores for ayato. you’re ready to get on your fours and bark for him. “and, she's pretty…”

“there,” thoma interrupts, slamming his hand on the table, having ayato look at him with a curious gaze; which looks horrifying because of his lack of sleep, by the way. “i don’t see how being pretty is anywhere close to why you need her to stay.” 

sara nods in agreement, but ayato knows he makes sense. who wants to live with an ugly roommate? okay, maybe, all roommates are pretty, but thoma, if ayato had to live with him, he’d flee the country. so, being pretty does co-relate with living peacefully, because if you’re not pretty, your roommate will flee countries and that’ll cause unnecessary expenses. henceforth, point proven. ayato still thinks he makes absolute, completely, hundred percent sense. 

“whatever, just ask her to stay if it’s that important,” thoma snickers, rolling his eyes. but what he’s saying is not possible. ayato may be good at flirting, he does have a pretty good record with dating, but he becomes a nervous wreck around you. 

he’s nervous right now. 

you make him nervous. just the thought of you makes him nervous. 

and believe it or not, ayato can’t just walk up to you and ask you to not move away because you’re a great cook, you can clean and you’re pretty— no. he doesn’t have the confidence. the whole process sounds like a secret military operation where flexible deterrent options are a must if he wants to survive. 

talking to you feels like writing finals for a subject he has never touched in his whole life. it’s like skydiving without a parachute, going into space without oxygen, and whatnot. despite spending two months with you in the same apartment, under the same roof, ayato’s communication skills haven’t improved past the ‘hi / hello’ stage. 

it’s like stepping on his sister in front of his mother and then breaking her favourite vase before throwing his father’s golf clubs into the sewer. and even though ayato says he likes you, hypothetically, he wouldn’t stroll up to you and ask you to not move out. that's utterly selfish. you’re just a roommate, a chapter in his life, someone who he stumbled across on his way and took a liking to— platonically— that’s it. that’s all you are. ayato thinks it’s insultingly selfish of him to ask you to stay. so he wouldn’t ask you, but he wants to, he wishes for you to stay, no matter how selfish it sounds.  

“i can’t ask her that.” it’s a stern reply, ayato is way too confident with his words while thoma raises his eyebrows as an interrogative response. “what, you expect me to go ‘hey yn, please don’t move out’ one fine day?” 

“no, but you can definitely go, ‘hey yn, you have a sexy and hot roommate who will do you right so don’t move out,’ at her.” ayato believes that the stupidest and most brain-degrading sentence that has ever come out of kujou sara’s mouth. “i mean, you don’t have to tell her to stay, show her.” 

“this isn’t literature, sara.” 

“i know, but show her the benefits of not moving out,” she repeats, her eyes enunciating a bigger plan behind those few insensible words. “seduce her with your skills, ayato.” 

yeah no, there’s no bigger plan. 

the only plan is to fuck up kamisato ayato’s already fucked up life with her illogical, useless fucked up plan. for someone studying criminology and nailing those charts, sara surely thinks less before speaking. no, she doesn’t think at all. her brain is probably in the suitcase she trashed last week. 

“sara, shut up before i—” 

ayato wants to continue his statement, but thoma beats him to it. “no no, wait. she, she makes sense.” 

no, she does not. 

she doesn’t make any sense.

no dots are connected, the dots aren’t here to begin with. head in hands, ayato sighs again. this sounds like something that would ruin his life beyond repair. to damage his reputation so much, he’d have to flee the country and change his identity. perhaps, the kaedehara family would take him in. 

“dude, think about it,” ah, no. ayato very well knows that thoma doesn’t get to talk about ‘thinking’ and anything related to it after saying sara’s plan makes sense. her words are incredibly thoughtless. “you show her the benefits. drop her to campus and drive her back, cook for her, clean for her, arrange her bed for her, earn for her, spend on her, just anything— show her, ayato.”

no. 

ayato doesn’t like the direction this conversation is heading in. 

or perhaps, he’s just overthinking. well, he has been doing almost everything on that list, honestly. everything as in, cooking. that’s it. that’s important, cooking is necessary, one must survive to eat— he means, eat to survive. he has spent quite a generous sum when you lost your very first job. 

this whole conversation is eating his brains out. you’re just a friend, not even a friend, a roommate. a fucking roommate he got attached to and how his abandonment issues are surfacing and god knows what will follow. he repeats thoma’s words in his head over and over again— now way, it makes sense. if anything, it’s going to give you the wrong idea that your roommate became a sugar daddy overnight and you’re going to be his first sugar baby, as sweet and horrific as it sounds.  

talk to us when you’re in a state to accept your feelings. that’s what sara said before excusing herself out of the cafe with thoma following her shortly behind. yeah no, ayato is regretting every decision that led him to this conversation, this unsolicited therapy session that fucked his brain inside-out. he’s about to leave the cafe as well, planning to skip all his classes and probably go visit a temple or something, until you come around with your friends.

there’s a smile on your face, the one he wakes up to. he loves your smile. ayato thinks your smile is really pretty; you are pretty— platonically. a smile creeps up to his face as well, dissipating as soon as thoma’s words re-visited his mind.

show her. ayato bites the insides of his cheeks. he’s probably going to take that advice. after all, you can make anything make sense if you really tried. 

.

.

.

ayato is on his way to the apartment.

he clearly disposed of all his responsibilities as an ideal student and sprinted out of the campus like a criminal on the run. well, he’s on his way to become a criminal. he’s about to seduce you using his skills and then you’ll report him to the police. doesn’t matter that he can get bailed out in minutes thanks to his mad rich family, he’ll still flee the country, get a new identity, dye his hair. kaedehara ayato doesn’t sound bad, not bad at all. it sounds delicious, healing, sounds like something that would save his life. 

now, he’s on the elevator to the floor. he’s afraid the elevator would stop moving if another pack of stress stacks up on his shoulders. actually, that wouldn’t be half bad.

the elevator stops, security comes, you will come running, the management will open the door and he’ll die in your arms out of collapsing lungs? stress? anxiety? heart attack? you’ll cup his face and he’ll tell you about his last wish— please don’t move out. though, it would lack the necessary fucks to give since he’s dead but in case, he’s alive, in case, then you’d live with him. sounds like a plan. godbless to whatever sara and thoma have done, ayato is incapable of carrying out the general thinking procedure. 

now he’s walking towards the door, fiddling with the key between his fingers. show don’t tell, show don’t tell, show don’t tell— fuck, if ayato ever paid attention to all the lessons about creative writing in highschool, he would’ve been the best selling author; which he is not. there’s a reason why he’s majoring in history, out of all the available options.   

for some reason, ayato expected you to be home. if he remembers correctly, you only have half your lessons and he knows you wouldn’t attend half of those scheduled lessons to read webtoons in the library. 

but you’re not home, and he’s going crazy. did you run away? oh god— what if you already moved out? surprise, with the haha, happy living alone note? he doesn’t wait another second before opening the door, coming across a living room that’s seemingly… normal. 

he spots your plushie on the couch, your gaming console lying around like trash or whatever, and uh, a poster of some levi ackerman from that apocalypse au of the anime you watch after sacrificing sleep to you sleep paralysis demon. he remembers you ordering it a week ago, turns out it arrived this morning and you unpacked it, leaving it in the living room because you were getting late for classes. 

you’re still living here, definitely. there’s no way you’re moving out without that silly poster of yours. 

ayato picks it up, judging the man from head to his chest since that’s where the poster ends. he looks like a bergamot. that’s all, and ayato dumps the poster on the floor and leaves to take a shower. 

.

.

.

it’s six in the evening. 

you got drunk at two for absolutely no reason and passed out at your friend’s place. good for you, your hangover is evaporating. though, your head throbs like something else when you watch ayato in his silk robe after shower when he smells like the man you’d get on your knees for. 

you don’t have high expectations this evening. it’s tuesday and ayato never returns on time when it’s tuesday. no he doesn’t drink and judging from how he’s always up at six on wednesdays, he doesn’t get laid either; which is actually good for you because you would never, ever, want any girl to sleep with your man, even though he isn’t yours. 

you’re met with a pleasant surprise when you stand in front of your door with the keys in your hands, noticing that it’s already unlocked. perhaps, you can at least end your day with ayato in his finest attire. you smile, opening the door, your smile grows wider as you notice ayato’s shoes, it grows even wider when you smell freshly prepared creme pasta lingering in the air. you’re in for a ride. you step in further, eyes settling on your roommate who’s leaning against the kitchen counter with a wine glass in his hand— wait.  

wait a damn minute.

wait a fucking second, that’s— ayato for sure— okay, you decide to take it from the bottom. that’s ayato wearing a silk pyjama, okay that’s new. new for you, maybe not for him, but you’re used to seeing him in silk robes with nothing beneath, you know, bare calves and feet. his toenails probably look prettier than yours. your eyes travel up further, completely leaving out the part you shouldn’t be thinking about especially when you’re still partly hungover, you see his abs— pause.  

hold the fuck up, his abs? you blink, and look again, you stare at him for a better look. abs. fucking abs, you’re— but why abs?! no, you don’t complain. all you’ve ever seen is a part of his chest from the godsent chest window offered by his robes. nothing more, nothing below, not abs. never. 

you— okay— you take a deep breath and process the situation. ayato is wearing the same silk robe, except it’s with pyjamas, however he didn’t tie it. he didn’t tie it, oh god— you’re watching kamisato ayato from the first seat, full access to his toned abs, you’re frothing at the mouth. 

“welcome home, yn” silence. what. what. what the fuck did he say? no, ayato greets you everything but not like this. not in the seductive tone that makes your name sound a hundred times breathtaking and make you feel like you’re an empress to some crazy rich nation, not in a way where you can look at his abs, and he runs his fingers through his wet hairs before taking a sip from the wine. not in the sexy, knee weakening, voice that fills your brain with the visual depiction of ‘pregnant emoji’ over and over again. 

you’re done. sold. dead. gone. mother of his kids, probably? you don’t mind because just when you thought you’re over your silly little crush on your roommate and ready to move out, he stands in front of you, looking like aphrodite’s son or just, aphrodite herself— except, this one’s male. 

“yn, you okay there?” no no no, you’re not, you’re not. you’re not okay. you’re oscillating between having the time of your life and lying on your deathbed. it’s like you’re playing a quiz with your own mind where the first option is to die and the second option is to die as well. you’re— you’re failing to compose yourself and you’re sure if someone doesn’t drag you out of this, you will embarrass yourself horribly enough for you to dig a hole and decompose. 

ayato chuckles. he chuckles. he has the audacity to chuckle at you after looking at that. does he even know about the effect he has on you? no, of course he doesn’t. he probably thinks it’s completely normal for him to stand in front of you, half naked, looking criminally hot; yeah no— someone needs to stop him.

“your face is red,” oh, i wonder why. “are you sick?” it’s such a rhetorical question, you’re not sure if he’s actually that innocent or whether he’s having fun teasing you like this. you nod, avoiding all sorts of eye contact and verbal conversation. you’ve figured out enough that if you open your mouth, it’ll get you in trouble. you’re bound to say something stupid, perhaps about how you want him to blow your back like a glowstick or something, or maybe you’d tell him to dress up and put on some clothes, despite the fact that you very much adore the scene in front of you right now, and make everything terribly awkward for the rest of your lives. 

ayato smiles, putting his hand on your shoulder, and you feel several volts of electric current travelling down your spine. you’re getting butterflies, or perhaps the whole damn zoo with monkeys swinging off your ribs and vertebrates. you want to pass out. you want to faint right fucking now before something goes wrong because he’s standing right in front of you, and his hand is on your shoulder, and you’re getting a much much closer and clearer look at this toned muscles— you’re about to start barking. 

“uh, i’ll go—” yes. leaving is the only option, the only correct option. exactly what you should do right now. gather your useless thoughts, run away, go to your room, take a cold shower, and don’t come out until ayato leaves for his classes the next day. 

he smiles, taking his hand off your shoulder and you take a sign of relief. probably the best you’ve felt in months, really. “okay, i’ll set dinner.”

“i’m not hungry.”

“huh?”

“i’m not hungry, i feel sick. it’s uh— dysentery.” great. fucking marvelous. out of everything, it had to be dysentery. 

“oh. do you need med—”

“no, i have benadryl.” you want to bang your head into the closest wall, want the ceiling to finally collapse, the tiles to break and take you inside. you just want to disappear because benadryl is a fucking cough syrup. you simply excuse yourself before he could ask anymore questions, hearing him suppress his laughter as you walk away. he probably knows you’re lying, doesn’t take a doctor to tell what a benadryl is; and you couldn’t thank him enough for pretending you’re absolutely right with the medications and letting you be. 

you get inside your room, you shut the door, you lean against it and contemplate every decision you ever took in your life. 

where did it go wrong? 

was it the part when you moved in? damn, sure you should’ve moved out earlier. you should’ve ran away the day you saw a fine man like ayato standing in front of you, tagged as your roommate. you know you’d sell your soul or something for him, you are aware of the things you’d do for him, for ayato, because a man like him deserves the world. you should’ve moved out before your inner simp had started channelling herself. 

you grab your clothes and decide to sit in the shower until you prune up and die. that’s probably the only right decision. you’re about to get inside the bathroom when you hear the doorbell, halting your steps as you hear footsteps approaching inside. 

“hi,” that. that’s a woman. a lady, a female human, you didn’t think ayato would be capable of being friends with any other woman beside you and kujou sara. 

now judging from the low, scarred intensity of the voice that’s reaching your ears, you can tell she’s a pretty woman. pretty like those campus crushes but in your head, she’s pretty like those main antagonists of some melodramatic television show that make you want to strangle her to death with every breath she takes. you don’t even know her but the way your fist clenches, it’s definitely jealousy piping out of you like candies from pez dispensers. 

“i’m sorry for last night,” last— last what? “we can continue.” 

continue what. 

no. no fuck, you can’t.

if this is about what your rotten brain is thinking about then there’s no way they can continue. you’re here, in your room, the walls around aren’t soundproof and you aren’t ready for whatever obscene act they’re going to pull in his room, or perhaps in the living room because the woman seems to have zero patience. 

“my roommate is here,” that’s ayato. yes. you nod in approval. tell her ayato. tell her to gather up her fantasies and desires and get he fuck out of your apartment. “hope you don’t mind.” 

what. 

what. 

of course, you mind. you didn’t sign up for some real life porn show when signing the papers for this apartment. moreover, you’re not stable and mentally, physically or emotionally strong enough to stand all the moans and groans that’ll fill up the room when he’ll do everything that you want him to do with you, and you’re thinking this with all your soberness. 

“oh, she can join us! the more, the merrier.” no, never. you don’t want to join them in their silly little adventure. you’re not in for some monstrous threesome, as amazing as it sounds. you still have to live with ayato for around twenty-eight days and you can’t just join the two of them tonight and wake up the next day as if nothing ever happened. 

you’re insane, but the sane part is still functional. your last two lovely, worn out brain cells are working day and night to keep you alive, successfully having you avoid all the pits of embarrassment and shame, you can not let them down. 

you don’t hear ayato’s response, or perhaps, you want to pretend you didn’t. because you definitely heard something along the lines of ‘bend over,’ and then he cues some music. 

it’s sway by michael buble. out of all the testosterone stimulating sex songs out there, ayato had to choose this. well, it doesn't change the fact that she’s living the life you’ve been dreaming for, ever since ayato moved in. you’re fucking glad the song is loud enough to block any R-rated sounds or else you would’ve suffered a trauma and piss your pants everytimes someone brings up sex the next time in your life. 

you’re on your bed, covering your ears with your pillows, trying to sleep, while she’s in his arms, doing the deed. funny, very funny. is there a chance you would have completely misinterpreted the entire situation? maybe. but no woman randomly shows up at a man’s house after seven in the evening and the first thing she asks is to continue their last night activities. 

you wish your ears would fall off and you’d forget everything you heard tonight. the sound of music isn’t helping you sleep and you can waltz to ayato and ask him to turn down the volume in middle of whatever the fuck they’re doing and infect your eyes and lose your virginity along with the last bits of your sanity, but you don’t have the balls to do so. 

you don’t have the balls to do anything. maybe if you did, you would’ve told ayato about your feelings and maybe, tonight, it would’ve been you instead of that woman. so you just do what you can : bury yourself inside the covers and try to sleep. 

maybe if you ignore it, it will go away. 

.

.

.

waking up, you realise you haven’t had any sleep in the past twenty-four hours or so. maybe you did, thirty minutes, or so. that doesn’t count when all you’ve heard last night are some horribly weird sex songs and phrases like, ‘that feels so good,’ and other things along the same lines whenever the music stopped. 

you looked at yourself in the mirror and almost passed out at the sight. horrible, literally. failing valak from the conjuring universe. actually, you can be the new valak except you’ll have real, actual, trauma and reason to haunt people. 

what surprises you more is that you haven’t come out of your room since last evening and ayato didn’t even check up on you. not like he’s obliged to, but he must. despite the fact that he was probably having the best night of his life, he should have morals as a human who cares about another human; or, as a roommate, because what if you fell from bed and broke your back? what if you got stuck in a chair and died of poor circulation? he probably doesn’t care. you’re pretty sure he’ll call the woman from last night the moment he finds your body and they’ll dance and sing on your grave; maybe, even fuck around it too. 

you want to get out of your room and go to the kitchen. you want to eat. but you’re scared the pair from last night would be passed out naked on the floor— nah, you’re not ready for that scene at seven in the morning. and this wouldn’t have been another issue to worry about if only ayato showed a little more patience and compassion and took her to his room. 

well, you have to survive. there’s a harsher world out there.  

you open the door and creep out of your room as if you’ve been meaning to steal something. you’re acting like this isn’t your apartment but the apartment of someone you’ve stolen a couple million dollars from. oh, and your eyes are closed. yeah. you’re not ready, not ready at all. you’d rather bump and fall and hit your head, die on spot; that'd be way better—

“oh, you’re up,” that’s a familiar voice. you’re sure, you look crazy standing in front of your room with your eyes closed, but that’s for another day. the main question is whether you should open your eyes or not. “you didn’t come out for dinner, i was waiting.” 

your eyes shoot open. 

okay. okay…

so, he’s not naked. thankfully, he’s dressed. fully dressed, in a white shirt with a top few buttons undone, black jeans or trousers, whatever they are. you miss the chest window, but you’re glad he’s dressed because you don’t certainly want to look at the scratches and marks from last night and add more trauma to your life. 

“i told you, i had dysentery,” as if he believes you. the look on his face tells he doesn’t. no one would, you ruin things for yourself. 

as expected, ayato is a goddamn liar. the ‘i was waiting,’ part sounds so fake now that you’re aware of what happened last night. because waiting while fucking someone doesn’t sound like waiting to you. more or less, it sounds like he was devouring his dinner while you were starving in your room. 

“did you not sleep last night?” oh, yeah, of course not. he’s getting there, slowly, but he is getting to the point. you wonder who’s to be blamed for your lack of sleep and the reason why you woke up with only one living and semi-functional brain cell. “ah, is it because of me? was it too loud last night? i was busy.” 

busy? yeah, he was busy working really hard blowing someone’s back or whatever. sounds like a tough job, but that’s none of your business. ( actually, it is ) you don’t want to have this conversation. you don’t know how to look him in the eyes. ayato, your roommate, your crush, he rocked someone else’s world while he knew you were in the apartment, probably hearing everything. for someone who’s rich enough to be featured in crazy rich asians, ayato surely does work a lot, and hard enough, at that. 

you want to murder him. chop off his limbs and also the part he’s probably very proud of. you want to shave his head so that no girl approaches him in the future. 

“oh, you probably don’t know about my work, do you?” no. you don’t want to. you don’t want to hear about the details, you’re not ready for this conversation. “i help my mom with physiotherapy,” 

yes. yes therapy, sounds lovely. everyone needs it, especially him. wait, therapy? what kind of therapy is sex?  well, it is some sort of therapy by the way, it makes you feel at ease— no, you’re swerving away from the topic ! okay, maybe you didn’t hear him correctly. he clearly said psychotherapy and he needs to get his licence revoked for the kind of therapy he is giving. it’s giving rise to more mental patients; you, for example. 

“therapy?” you mutter, you didn’t mean to. you need to learn how to keep your thoughts to yourself, you lack severely in that department of life. 

“yes, therapy for joints and bones? my mother is a physiotherapist and she taught me a thing or two,” oh. oh. physiotherapy. is that why he asked her to bend over? what was the need to put on music, though? you don’t understand ayato. actually, you don’t understand anyone in the kamisato family even though you’ve only met his sister so far. 

now, you feel guilty for thinking about him in that light. apart from the potential visual representations of ayato from last night in your head, you have a very high respect for this man. you feel like you should get on your knees and apologise, offer a hand-written apology letter for thinking of him in such a non-PG-13 manner. 

though, you don’t know how to apologise. you can’t possibly go ‘sorry, ayato, i thought you were busy having the best sex of your life when you were actually providing her therapy.’ that doesn’t even sound right. it makes you look like you need therapy, urgently. but you need to apologise for your sake. maybe, this is just the consequences of your actions or in this case, your imagination. 

“i’m—” you open your mouth to speak, but ayato beats you to it.  

“do you want to go out with me today?” 

wait, what?

do what now?

go out with who?

it’s a question that catches you off guard, pushes off off the cliff, stops your heart. the monkeys in your stomach are alive again even though they suffer from utter embarrassment and guilt for assuming all sorts of things about ayato, and the perfect man he is. 

you want to say yes. of course, no one in their right mind would reject such a golden opportunity to ride in his Bugatti La Voiture Noire that’s worth 18.7 million dollars as of when he purchased it. you remember you have a terminal disease where you spot one toned muscle and sell your conscience to whatever demon is out there. even though you don’t see any toned muscles, you see ayato’s collar bones thanks to those few undone buttons, you see the nerves of his arms thanks to the rolled up sleeves, you see him wearing an apron because he was making breakfast, what a malewife. 

you’re sold, almost.

almost. 

the offer is tempting, but your new apartment is more. you’re an adult and it's a fact even if you don’t want to believe it and want to become a cat who solely lives for aesthetic purposes. you need to earn for yourself and move out of this apartment instead of living in a hell just to fill a void called ayato in your heart. 

“i have to go take a look at how the work at my new apartment is going,” you’re surprised at how sane and normal your response sounds. it’s truly concerning after everything that has happened since last evening and the trash that’s residing in your head. 

you try your best to sound apologetic. you are, you really are, you’re missing out on ayato and his Bugatti La Voiture Noire of $18.7 millions, the one that people ( aka, you ) drool over every time they pass by. it’s an expensive sacrifice, literally and metaphorically, worth more than your life. 

“well, that sucks,” ayato sighs, removing the apron in the most seducing way possible, proceeding to run his fingers through his hairs, looking like a mouth-watering, melt in the mouth, sizzling pork at seven-thirty in the morning. “i had plans for us,” 

and you’re floored. 

us. you like the sound of that. you and ayato, ayato and you, hot. very hot, very sexy, sounds like an eargasm, honestly. for a second, you think it’s a dream. it has to be. if not, then maybe he wants to take you to a shrine or something and have you cleansed from top to bottom for all the r-rated thoughts you’ve been having. but, that’s only possible if ayato has an idea of what’s going on inside your head. there’s no way he knows that, or maybe he does. you look at him like he’s the happy meal and you haven’t eaten in a good five-hundred years or so. 

you’re too lost in your thoughts to focus on ayato until he leans in a bit closer, alerting every single neuron in your body as he shoots you a smirk, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “have fun, pretty.” 

and here lies yn, twenty something, majoring in one of the available majors offered by her university. cause of death: kamisato ayato. 

.

.

.

ayato lets out a desperate cry of help, sliding down the walls of thoma’s living room as soon as he enters thoma’s apartment, scaring the living shit out of his friends.  

“go die somewhere else.” that’s sara again. you can’t blame her, she follows thoma like a pest because he’s a good cook, that’s it. food above everything else. 

thoma walks to the entrance, sighing at the sight of his friend lying on the floor, dejected and lifeless, looking pale, running the beauty of thoma’s luxurious apartment tiled with granite floors. if it weren’t for his morals, he would’ve trashed ayato. 

“i feel like a whore,” sara’s face scrunches up in disgust. maybe, judging from the way ayato talks about you, he is a whore. if not a whore, then something equivalent to it. “never knew i’d have to do this.” 

sara leans against the wall that ayato just slid down out of pure despair. “do what?” 

“seduce yn.” thoma practically pukes out all the water from his mouth at his friend’s words. “what, you both told me to do so!” 

sara doesn’t believe his words. they say love is blind, but in this case it’s also ignorant and incapable of following the wise and helpful instructions provided. “how the fuck have you been seducing her?” 

“um, with my skills?”

“don’t tell me.” the disappointment, in thoma’s voice, is astronomical. who would’ve thought that kamisato ayato, the heir to kamisato estate, excels in the art of idiocy. god really said he can either have looks or brains, and completely missed out on the latter. “ayato, i talked about cooking and cleaning and your homekeeping skills and not about your talents in bed.” 

oh.

that’s right. 

even though all ayato did was fluster you a little this morning— see, he’s disregarding what happened last evening. ayato assumes you’re used to seeing him half naked in his silk robe, with his drenched hair while he smells like primroses and sandalwood and everything else that’s featured in Dior’s men perfume collection. he thinks it’s normal. it’s his apartment, he gets to wear whatever he wants and make himself comfortable. 

he doesn’t know what bed skills tho— wait, bed? skills? talent in bed? what? what? he’s not even marginally close to what thoma is thinking; and ayato is sure that he needs to get new friends before it’s too late. 

“what ‘talents in bed’ are you even talking about?” ayato asks, finally standing up from the floor like the kamisato he is and slumping on the couch. 

thoma deadpans. “do you seriously want me to elaborate?” no, probably not. never. thoma has experience in this field, you see, and ayato, as someone who has never even thought about this, doesn’t want him to explain and give details about every single move and curve— no.  

ayato chooses his sanity over human reproductive knowledge. 

“i— nothing happened, nothing! all i did was ask if she wanted to go out with me and,” he pauses, eyes travelling between thoma and sara simultaneously. the latter raises her eyebrows, gesturing to him to continue his precautionary tale about how to not treat your roommate. “and, and i might’ve flirted with her, a little, yeah.” 

the embarrassment is evident in his voice. 

ayato wants to liquify and evaporate. he wants thoma’s house to break down and kill everyone and him too. he wants the microwave to blast, just anything, anything that could save him from this conversation. now, flirting isn’t that bad in itself. it’s good, it’s fun, ayaka flirts with yoimiya when her inner lesbian unleashes itself. sara flirts with shogun for some goddamn reason and everyone thinks they have a thing or two going on because no one dares to talk to ei. itto flirts with himself in the mirror— it’s normal, completely, absolutely, certainly, normal-er than normal. normal-est.  

ayato, however, doesn’t flirt. he doesn’t know how to flirt. the leisure art of flirting is beyond the luxuries this specific kamisato can afford. the last time he hit on someone was a cat, not even his ex-girlfriend, a cat. a feline. it scratched him. ayato refrains from flirting to avoid all sorts of innuendos—

a pause. the innuendos, the fucking innuendos, oh god. what if, what if you get the wrong idea? well, thoma and sara assumed that he has been trying to get laid with you so it only makes sense for you to assume the same after all that half-naked, bare-chested, sexy-wine-sipping, jazz last evening. 

no no no—

he’s done. he’s done. 

over.

if there’s someone who should move out, it’s him. 

this life ruining emotionally stressing psychologically mortifying realisation makes him want to jump down the nearest window and pass out, then never wake up. he wants to trip on air and die of mesothelioma, wants to overdose on sparkling water and die of negativity in his life. 

if he doesn’t die, he wishes for the earth to explode or something so that everyone else dies and humanity comes to an end. his day has been ruined, his disappointment and shame is immeasurable. kazuha better be ready to have an adopted brother because ayato is damn sure the kamisatos are kicking him out after this. 

ayato doesn’t wait for his friends to say something. he simply walks out of thoma’s apartment, dejected in shame, hoping lighting will strike him in broad daylight on a day with clear skies. you’re not home, that’s great. you won’t be back anytime before evening because you’re out with your friends. no, actually, you’re out with miko and the new transfer students beidou and venti, who you are bound to get drunk and pass out with.  

that’s good, it’s great. a godsent opportunity. there are two possibilities: first, either you come home remembering everything and move out the very next day or second, you forget everything thanks to alcohol. he hopes it’s the second one. alcohol does wonders water could never. those two molecules of hydrogen and one molecule of oxygen don’t do shit when it comes to forgetting memories. alcohol, on the other hand, is capable of doing miracles. 

like the time he got home downright wasted and almost kissed you senseless while you were helping him clean up. he can swear, he saw the blush on your cheeks. but maybe, that was just fatigue since you had to wake up at two to deal with him. 

yeah, alcohol, a godly drink. 

he reaches home, grabs a beer can from the refrigerator and makes himself comfortable on the couch. ayato wants to forget everything, hoping you’d forget it all too. 

.

.

.

“ayato,” you whisper his name, shaking his shoulders gently in an attempt to wake him up. not like you want to, the sight of him sleeping soundly is healing you and washing off your sins. one does not see the kamisato ayato sleeping on the couch with flushed cheeks because of drinks and a shirt that’s almost half-a-way undone everyday.

it’s a godly sight. a scenery. mother nature could never. you genuinely want to thank his parents for the masterpiece they have created. 

you shouldn’t sit next to the couch and gawk at him while he’s sleeping. that’s creepy. what if he wakes up? imagine waking up to your roommate staring at you with the utmost attention. creepy, and moreover, you wouldn’t be able to face him. 

but again, he looks like the man you’d like to have as your boyfriend. scratch that, your husband, if not more. as if, anything more remains, but whatever. you smile, it’s a chuckle. you chuckle. you chuckle out loud, hand flying to your mouth immediately, hoping he doesn’t wake up. 

you reach out for his face, tracing his nose as superficially as possible, a faint gasp escaping your lips as he shifts a little. great. you have woken him up. his eyes flutter open and you quickly compose yourself, leaning away from him as you realise about the close proximity between him and you. 

ayato groans as he turns to his right, eyes landing on you sitting on the floor right next to him, eyes wide open like a deer caught in the headlights. a second passes, you’re okay. the next second, you’re not. 

you’re panicking. 

you’re experiencing all sorts of emotions at once because ayato just woke up and he probably knows you’ve been sitting here, watching him sleep for god knows how long. time is a social construct either way, who the fuck cares— okay, you’re swaying from the topic once again. and not to mention he looks extremely hot with messed up hair and those flushed cheeks. you’re barely composing yourself.  

did you mention that ayato has excellent facial features? he looks even more stunning up close. you know you should get up and walk away. hide yourself inside your room, live in solitary confinement for the rest of your life, or at least till ayato is around. but you don’t, because you’re staring at ayato, and he’s staring back at you. it’s like you’ve frozen in your place, you’re pretty sure you’d forgotten to breathe, if that even makes sense?

“hi,” he mutters, whispers, in his godly, eargasmic voice, and you feel like you’re hearing melodies of careless whisper ringing in your ears. 

no, you’re not sitting on the floor anymore. you stand up, pretending nothing ever happened, as if you didn’t stare at him sleeping and continued to stare for five solid minutes even after he had woken up. a very reliable solution, playing pretend always proves to be useful. 

“you can wash up, i’ll prepare the hangover soup,” you mutter, making your way to the kitchen, hearing him shuffle on the couch as he sits straight. ayato doesn’t remember a lot from the events that happened prior to your arrival, yet, which is fantastic. marvels of alcohol, everyone. 

“don’t go,” he mumbles, and you stop on your way. “don’t move out,” ayato doesn’t think before speaking, he never does. he doesn’t trust himself. he said you’re just a roommate, nothing less, nothing more, but he has been devastated ever since you told him you’ll be moving out. maybe, that was all a lie. maybe, this isn’t just platonical. maybe, you have always been a little more than just a roommate to ayato. 

it’s like the fireworks are going off all around you. you’re still processing his words, wondering if he really means them because in the end, he’s drunk. partially, completely, he is drunk. and you can never trust alcohol and its consequences. 

so, you simply decide to play along, hoping he won't remember this conversation the next day. “is there a reason for me to stay?”

“i am,” another quick reply, and you’re losing your mind. it’s like the ground beneath you is shaking. your heart is accelerating so fast, you’re scared it’ll come out of your chest. it’s not your first time witnessing a drunk ayato who has gone batshit crazy, but it is your first time having him look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before. at least not with regards to you. 

he sighs, getting up from the couch before making his way towards you with every step increasing your already racing heartbeat. and before you know it, he’s already standing in front of you, barely a few inches apart as he cups your face, eyes settling on your lips. “please remind me if i forget any of this tomorrow,” 

rest all feels like a dream because ayato, your roommate, the guy you’ve had a crush on ever since he moved in, the man you’d bark for— not literally, maybe, is kissing you. he’s not just kissing you, he’s kissing you, as in literally slotting his lips against yours, pulling you closer with every second that passes. he’s kissing you like the world will end tomorrow and even if it does, you don’t mind. you don’t fucking mind if the house burns to ashes and a truck runs you over the very next day because this is everything you’ve wished for in past two months ( you know, besides having a place with better living conditions to call house )

“ayato—” no he doesn’t let you speak. instead, he nibbles on your lips, soft gasps for air twirling in between as he frames you against the kitchen counter. no, this isn’t your first kiss. you’ve had relationships, but nothing compares to this moment. no other kiss compares to how he’s kissing you and how it feels like you’re on an amusement park ride where the adrenaline gets the best of you and suddenly, you’re drowning between pleasure and thrill. 

that is what kissing ayato is like. 

it’s like going to heaven and back in just the way his hands ghost up your cheeks and slot them against your waist, your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue slightly brushes against your bottom lips, and without a second thought, you let it in. kissing ayato is like gravitating towards a black hole, it’s like lying at the rock bottom and falling even deeper. you’re not sure if you should be doing this right now, especially when he’s drunk, but the taste of alcohol against your tongue inhibits your thought process, allowing your feelings to get the best of you. 

he pulls away, lips brushing against yours as you lean in to capture them in another kiss, only for him to retract. needless to say, it leaves you a little embarrassed. ayato cups your cheeks once again, making you look into his eyes with his warm breath fanning on your face. “i love you,” that’s all he says before navigating his lips to yours once again. 

you’re not sure if you heard him right. of course, you did. you have a good sense of hearing and there’s no way you’re missing such an important detail, but— love, you don’t know how sober that is. you don’t know how much of this kiss, and every sensation that you’re sharing with each other, is genuine. you don’t know how sober ayato is, you don’t know whether this is because of the alcohol or if he actually loves you. so, you put his hands on his chest, pushing him away as he stares at you with an expression ranging between confusion and heartbreak. 

you kiss the inside of his palms, shooting him a sweet smile, before walking into your room. “say that again when you’re sober.”

note two. hello if you made it this far im in love you and sending you all the, uh, things that you like ?? probably ?? yeah. trust me, i never knew i'd end up writing a 10,310 words long fic about ayato and reader simping over each other, in around five hours, two days before my english exam. but this had to be done. i had the rough draft in my keep ever since i made my genshin acc ( hi hi to people who remember my nezlys era ) i had to elaborate. i hope you liked this ?? not the kind of writing you want to see or even write, when this is your first post for a fandom but c'mon. it's about ayato. i had to do this for ayato in silk robe when he's freshly out of shower smelling like primroses and sandalwood and everything else from Dior's men perfume collection

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#prod. — caelin. #album. — genshin. #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato imagines #ayato scenarios #genshin x you #ayato x you #from. — mtr !

[hausofmingi]

his good girl - chapter 1

pairing: song mini x stripper!reader

tags: stripper au, smut series

warnings: slight mentions of stalker, bad words (tee hee), dom!mingi, sub!reader, riding, daddydom!mingi, finger sucking, being carried and getting fucked, a bit of physical roughness (reader receiving), degradation but also praise, cum eating (off the floor!), aftercare

wc: 3.8 k

an: so I decided to give the reader a name because that feels more realistic to me as a reader than y/n. I find that sometimes reading "y/n" takes me out of it a little, so lmk if you find this helpful as well! Also, I am a little depraved so right off the bat, this gets very crazy kinky

minors dni!! 18+ only!!

“Where is the red garter belt I let you borrow?” You are racing around your and Lina’s small apartment, trying to prepare for yet another night on the job. 

“I don’t know, I may have left it at the club?” Lina answers from the bathroom. 

Red is his favorite. You don’t want to disappoint. 

“Well great Lina thanks for that, I’m never letting you borrow my shit again.” 

“Love you too!” she calls after you as you leave to go shopping. It’s not like you’re against making another trip to get some new pieces, but why do you always make the same mistake in letting Lina borrow your favorite stuff…

Your’s and Lina’s apartment is in a pretty run down building in an unsafe part of Gangnam, but no matter how shitty it is, its yours and you really want it to feel like home. 

But, that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the pair of eyes watching you as you exit out of your apartment building and walk towards the bus stop. 

You have been noticing that lately, the feeling that someone is watching you. When you leave your house, when you’re at the grocery store, while you’re going on a run. You try and brush it off because this is normal for women and all that, but today, you pay just a little harder attention. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a figure in a black hood (Jacket? Coat? You don’t want to look too hard) standing across the street from your apartment building. You walk a little faster to the bus stop just in case. 

That night, after spending more than you should on new lingerie sets, you and Lina are about to take the stage for your first stage set. It’s almost midnight, which is usually the time he makes his appearance. 

You always get butterflies, but not the stage fright normal kind of butterflies, the kind that make your clit perk up and your nipples harden. 

Why do you always get so worked up over a man who hasn’t even fucked you?, you think as you make your way up to the stage. 

You really have become quite the pro at this. After 4 years of working for this club, your boss has dubbed you his favorite girl. Doyeon always protects you and gives you the most popular customers, knowing you will always keep them coming back. 

You always thought it felt nice to be appreciated, especially knowing he didn’t have any intentions of coming onto you, on account of he’s a flaming fruitcake.

Its a good ways into your set, and his table still sits empty. You feel the sweat start to form on your back, but try to stay in your routine. 

Why isn’t he here? Where could he be instead? Did his company find out he was doing this? 

You always got scared that it might be leaked that idols come here, knowing the sasaengs stalker habits. Mingi, being a part of one of the biggest Korean boy groups, Ateez, must have a large number of crazy fans following him. 

Did they find out and tip the press to show up here? You didn’t see anyone outside though… Your mind runs rampant with all of the reasons that it could possibly be as you walk off stage and collect your tips from the stage manager. 

Tears start to threaten to spill, and you think you are crazy yet again to be this affected by a man you haven’t even had a conversation with. 

On the way home, Lina can tell you’re bothered and nudges your side as you walk home. 

“So you know how Taehyun has been requesting me a lot? Well he mentioned his upcoming tour tonight, I think he might finally take me along with them!” She exclaimed excitedly. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just saying that so you’ll suck him off some more.” you say. 

“Well damn… What’s got you all worked up honey?” She always called you honey when she was trying to comfort you. 

“Mingi didn’t come tonight..” you admit. 

“On a Thursday? That’s… super out of character. Well don’t worry, I’m sure practice just went long or he has an early morning schedule or….” her talking trails off as you dissociate. 

Lina has always been a nice friend, agreeing to move in with you without knowing you very well, trying her best to always cheer you up. It’s not her fault you felt like you guys were never really close. You give her props for trying though. 

You pull out your phone and check his bubble and instagram, seeing if maybe they could give you some clues. Nothing. 

You fall asleep that night thinking of the last time his fingers swiped your lip, hoping it wasn’t the last.

—

The next night at the club is gloomy. Even though it’s a Friday, attendance is lower and your energy is even lower. 

The feeling of someone watching you has been bothering you all day, but the guy in the hood has yet to make an appearance. You are just looking forward to curling up in your bed tonight and continually refreshing Mingi’s bubble messages. 

The stage manager calls for everyone to get onstage for the final number and the other girls rush out. You take your time though, not feeling like getting in a rush for this menial thing. 

You hang your head in your hands, covering your eyes and taking a breath. Just get through it, he’s just a man, you try to remind yourself. 

A smell reaches you, like a really expensive cologne. Musky and masculine, and somehow… dominant. 

You look up and standing in the doorway is him. He stands as if he owns the place, hands in his pocket, opting for a fitted vest tonight in lieu of a jacket. 

And he’s staring you down, studying you intently. If it was anyone else, you would feel the need to cover yourself and apologize. But not with him. 

You probably look like a dumbass, staring at him through the mirror with your mouth slightly open. 

He speaks first. “You were worried.” It’s a question but he doesn’t need an answer. 

“Yes,” is all you can manage to squeak out. 

He leans against the doorway, messing with his shirt cuff. You still haven’t moved, frozen in place. How did he get in here, past the security guard? How did he know which dressing room you were in? Was he the person in the hood you noticed this morning? He must be stalking you… Why doesn’t that bother you more? 

He notices your anxiety moving through you. “Don’t worry, I just know the security guard. He owed me a favor. I’m not a stalker” he responds, as if he read your mind.

“That’s… good” you say. 

He drops his arms and strides towards you, slowly as to not spook you. “Well thank you for worrying about me. I’m okay, for now. But, here’s the problem my love,” he draws his finger up your arm, making your hair stand up and bumps form. “You may be in trouble.” 

You aren’t sure what he means. “What kind of trouble?” you ask. “Like legal trouble?” 

You are afraid that maybe one of the idols ratted this place out and the feds are going to come knocking down your door and take you all away. Would Mingi still visit you in jail? Surely not, there’s no lap dances there… 

He sticks his finger under your chin and pushes it up to make you look at him. Drip. 

“Please stop letting your mind get ahead of you, baby. Let daddy speak.” DRIP. 

“A sasaeng has been getting very close to you. Too close. I can’t let you get hurt.” Awe, he wants to protect you. DRIP DRIP DRIPPING. 

“How did they find me?” you ask. 

He leans against the counter as he continues, “I am not sure, I don’t even know how much they know. Sasaengs are insane people with insane complexes. This one has been stalking me since pre-debut. But I’ve always been careful that she doesn’t see me come in here. So how she knows that you are important to me, I don’t know…” IMPORTANT TO HIM??? 

Okay you’ll have to throw these underwear out at this point. 

“So what do I need to do then? To protect myself I mean” you ask him. 

“Nothing, I want you to do absolutely nothing and let me handle it. But in the meantime, you can’t go back to your apartment.” 

Hate to say it, but fine by you. Maybe you’ll save some money by not having to replace your stolen shit anymore.

“Where will I go instead?” you ask. 

“You’ll come stay with me.” Jesus Christ, 20 year old you would be freaking the fuck out. But, it doesn’t make you freak out, in that way at least. 

“What about Lina, what about my job? I can’t live with you, much less San and Seonghwa. I’ll never see you. What if you have to travel for schedules? I’m just supposed to stay in your dorm 24/7? I have a life! I barely even know you! You only ever say 4 words to me, and then fucking leave me in a puddle, how can I just-” 

His hand stroking the side of your cheek cuts you off. “Again with the mind racing, baby. I don’t want you to uproot your life, it will be temporary. I have my own apartment now too, so we won’t be with other members. It will only be until we are 100% sure you are safe to be alone. I will take care of you, I promise.” he reassures. 

You lean into the hand that holds your head, a few tears falling into it. You finally get the courage to look up at him, making eye contact. He has dropped his heavy, dominant demeanor. Instead, his eyes hold only comfort and concern. 

Maybe he wasn’t kidding; maybe you really are important to him. 

After a minute of silence, “Okay, so what do I need to do right now?” you ask.

“Change and pack up your stuff, we are going to the apartment. Make a list of what all you need from your apartment when we get home and I will send a staff to collect it all in the morning.” 

“And take a breath, princess.” You unclench your jaw, which you didn’t even realize was clenched. He kisses your forehead before reaching down to grab your duffle bag that you carry your things in. 

You think in silence as you pack. Take a breath he says… he will protect me he says… Why me? Why is protecting me, a stripper, just some stripper that he barely speaks to. He doesn’t even know my real name…

“Yes I do,” he says from the chair he has sat down in to wait for you. Oops, you must’ve said that part outloud. 

“It’s Cora.” You like the way he flips the “r” of your American name with his Korean accent. 

“How do you know that?” he ignores you. “How do you know I used to live with San and Seonghwa?” “Touche…” you respond.

“All done?” he asks. You nod. He crosses to you and starts stroking your arms to comfort you. 

“I want you to remember though, you still have to be a good girl for me at the apartment, can you do that?” 

You look up at him through your eyelashes, surprised that he still is holding this up even at a time like this. Is it all an act, or is it truly how he is? Either way, you are turned on once again. 

“Yes..” you respond. He cocks his eyebrow, questioning your answer. 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes… daddy.”

“There’s my good girl.”

With his hand on your back, he guides you out of the dressing room and out the back door, where a black hatchback with tinted windows is waiting. He holds open the door for you, and helps you into the car. If only other men treated all their strippers like this…

The car ride home (whatever home means at the moment) is very silent. He has his hand on your thigh the entire way, the other staying steady on the wheel. His thumb rubs back and forth, another attempt at comfort you’re guessing. It works, sort of. 

Just smelling him and being near him your body is relaxed, knowing he will take care of you and wanting to give yourself to him. It’s like you are under his spell, which is crazy. You are usually so independent and self-sufficient. What about him makes you want to grant his every wish? 

“Shouldn’t you be blindfolding me, so I won’t know where your apartment is and so I won’t run away and all that?” you ask, kind of joking. 

“You won’t” he says while keeping his eyes on the road, fully confident in his answer. 

He’s probably right. 

–

Finally you reach the apartment. You almost drifted off to sleep, even though the drive was only about 20 minutes. He parks right outside the front door of the building and gets out to open your door for you. He offers his hand to help you out of the car. It’s much appreciated because you are still in your platform heels, just throwing a coat over your outfit you were going to wear to perform in. 

He keeps his hand on your back as you walk up to the doors, through the lobby, and up the elevator. It’s a really nice building with a concierge and fresh flowers all over. Sometimes you forget how big Ateez really is, and figure that Mingi bought this place with his own money. 

You wonder if he has neighbors on his floor. Do they know he lives next to them? Does he talk to his neighbors at all? Do they know that he is having his own personal stripper move in with him?

They’re gonna know now, from how loud you are being. 

How you ended up riding him in his dining room chair about 15 minutes later, you’re not so sure. 

—

He was going slow, too slow, slow enough that you could feel every. single. inch. 

You tried to grind your hips and get him in deeper, but the tight hold he had on your asscheek lets you know that even though you are on top, you are not in control. 

His other hand is holding your face, his thumb hooked in your mouth. You suck and gag on it as much as you can, but it’s hard to focus when he is going this slow. 

You felt high, things were getting foggy. All you knew is that you wanted to please him. 

“My beautiful girl, doing so well. You were waiting for this for a long time weren’t you?” his deep voice sends sparks to your clit and makes you even wetter, if that’s even possible. 

You can only close your eyes and nod. You want to throw your head back, but his hand on your cheek and thumb in your mouth keeps it facing forward. “Now baby, what did I say? Eyes. on. me.” 

He jerks your head a bit, just to make you a little scared. 

You know he would never hurt you. 

Unless you asked. 

You open your eyes like a good girl. How could you not be a good girl for him? 

His breath catches when you make eye contact with him again. His eyes bare into your soul, never breaking. 

You whimper a little when the head of his cock catches someplace you have never felt before. He smirks, knowing. He hits it again, making the upper half of your body keen forward, his thumb slipping out of your mouth. 

Your hands, which were bracing on the back of the chair, move down to his pecs. You are desperate for him, desperate for that feeling that release you dreamt about him giving you. 

You start to bounce since he let go of you, letting his arms hang down and his head fall back in pleasure. You are doing that to him. You are making him let go. 

You grind his cockhead up against your g-spot over and over again, drooling down his neck. 

You wish you could see what you guys look like, his giant body draped over the chair in ecstasy, you sat on his thick thighs bouncing on his perfect cock, licking up and down his neck. 

You’re close, really close, and your walls start to constrict down on his cock. His eyes shoot open and he jerks his head up at the feeling. 

“Hold on princess,” he practically growls at you. 

Hold onto what? You think. 

He grabs underneath your thighs, holding his hands behind your back and lifts the both of you out of the chair with him still inside of you. 

Oh my god, holy shit. 

This was too good, you couldn’t have even dreamt this up. 

You wrap your hands around his neck and he pummels into you as fast as he can, hitting your g-spot every single time as if he has memorized the angle. The sound of his balls hitting your ass covers your cries of his name. 

“Fucking. Take it.” he says, his forehead touching yours. He has essentially lost control of his body, just bouncing you wildly up and down his cock. 

It’s coming, It’s coming. Please, please, please, “please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, if you’re even talking out loud. You feel like you are losing your grip on reality, its so so close. 

He stills inside of you, leaving his cock right on the spot you need the most. He just shallowly thrusts, just rubbing your g-spot with his cockhead. Holy shit, it feels like fucking heaven. 

“Now,” he commands. 

And you obey. 

You flutter around him, feeling how his shallow thrusts stutter when you cum. You don’t stop for at least a full minute. 

“Thank you thank you thank you, oh fuck, thank you daddy” is all you can say as your clit jumps in ecstasy. 

His eyebrows are furrowed together, he’s close too. Right as your orgasm tapers out, you tighten your thighs around him and give him 3 bounces. That’s all he needs. 

He pulls you off of him just as he’s cumming, holding you away from him so you can watch the cum drip out of his cock and onto the floor. It’s so beautiful, you think. 

He sets your legs down on the floor, but they can’t hold you up and you fall to your knees. You can barely see straight, and you can’t catch your breath. Holy shit he may really have fucked the shit out of you. 

You keep your eyes turned to the ground while you try and slow your heart, but you see him start to squat down to your level. He picks up your chin with his hand to look up at him. “Baby… you need to clean up your mess.” 

“Wh..What?” you stutter. 

He stands up straight again, looming over you with his giant presence. “Clean it up.” his gaze falls to the ground and yours follows. 

Oh… you get it now. 

Not breaking eye contact, you lean your head down. You stick out your tongue and lick up the cum that he let fall to the floor, as well as some from you that you didn’t even realize had dripped down. He smiles. 

You feel like a pet, like a slave. 

You fucking love it. 

“That’s my good girl.” he praises you. You wipe off your mouth and look up at him through your eyelashes. He squats back down to your level, seeming to have fallen for your puppy dog eyes. 

“Does my baby need help getting cleaned up?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

He bends down to pick you up, which he does with ease, as if you weighed nothing. He guides your legs to wrap around him and he carries you into the bathroom. 

He sets you down to sit on the toilet and turns on the shower to start heating up. Why do you feel so dizzy? You gaze can’t focus. 

“Cora… don’t pass out on me my love.” he holds your face in his hands. 

“What do you need baby?” you grab onto his wrist to try and steady yourself. 

“Just a minute… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, take your time.”

He strokes your hair as you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself. 

“Is the shower ready?” you ask. 

“Yes my love, whenever you are.”

“Will you help me?” you ask.

“Of course” he says as he starts guiding you towards the shower door. 

He lets you step in first and before you can protest that you can shower on your own, he steps in behind you. 

It's a really big shower, with beautiful blue tiles and a detachable shower head. Detachable? Huh…

You lean into his chest, your head barely meeting the middle of it due to his height. One of his arms wraps around your body while the other starts to shampoo your hair. 

Why do you already feel so comfortable with him? As if you have been showering together for years. You literally just licked this man’s cum off the floor and have no remorse about it. Should you feel guilty? 

Nah, you kind of just feel like bragging to other Atiny’s on Twitter. I sucked his beautiful cock!! Suckers!!! Probably wouldn’t be the best idea…

After washing the rest of your body and getting you out of the shower and making sure you brushed your teeth, you are now tucked into his extremely comfortable bed. You don’t usually sleep naked, but it seems right when he is too. 

You turn to face him in the bed. He was already staring at you, it seems. 

“You know, I wasn’t expecting us to fuck right off the bat..” you admit. 

“Me neither, but I am not surprised. It’s hard to resist you.”

“You’ve been resisting me for the past 6 months. You know I always craved more from you.”

“Yes I did know. But I didn’t want to enjoy you in such a public space. I just craved being around you. Its hard to resist you, though, princess. Just know that.”

I guess that makes me feel better, but still… so many things unanswered.

“I know you are probably questioning a lot of things. Just try and get some sleep tonight, okay my love?” he asks. 

“Okay..” you agree in a small voice, knowing that you will wake up tomorrow with even more unanswered questions. 

“Good girl.” He curls his arm around your middle and tucks you into his side, kissing your forehead before drifting to sleep. 

He smells like the same cologne he was wearing earlier tonight. Beautiful, musky, and masculine. You let yourself drift to sleep, breathing him in.

OKAY I DID IT MY FIRST CHAPTER. plz reblog and like.

#ateez mingi #mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi #mingi smut #kpop smut