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httpsserene · 8 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟑: 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. squirting. car sex. semi-public sex. ooc (out-of-character) oscar. overstimulation. mild possessive behavior. mild jealousy. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. condom usage. the audacity of men. lando norris’ savior complex /jk. author’s overuse of italics and run-on sentences. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: water • tyla

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: what can i say, y'all. back at it with the unhinged thirst. every time i do one of these, they've been getting shorter and shorter. don't be afraid, for #4 (dr/mv) i'll be back on my game, they deserve it. yes gremlin lando appearance. also, i cannot imagine oscar ever acting this way, that's why i put the ooc tag? it's definitely a fun read tho (i think), along with the smut! thank you, loves, for the support on this event!

want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my betas! @biancathecool for helping with my grammer and @barnestatic for her wonderful spoiled brat idea :))))

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

if you want to look at what i'm planning for ktober, or catch up on previous uploads here's my f1 kinktober masterlist and my general masterlist for all of my works!

oscar is known for his unfazed, composed and collected demeanor. he’s aware that some people say he has no personality–but, he’s just an introvert at the end of the day. oscar’s a man of few words: that’s what people who aren’t well acquainted with him would say. if you’ve had the pleasure of sticking around oscar long enough for him to become comfortable with you, you’ll learn that oscar has an incredibly complex personality. he’s overly sarcastic, has a niche sense of humor, and can ramble endlessly at you. but, he’s still a fairly calm and quiet individual. which is why the way oscar is about to scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of this mclaren event, would be considered uncharacteristic of him.

he originally invited you to join him tonight thinking that having you by his side would eliminate the social exhaustion he experiences at these types of sponsor events. however, the aussie failed to realize that you may introduce a…different problem, to tonight’s business party. when oscar asked you to join him two weeks ago, he was prepared for all of your objections–you’re both chronic homebodies, and you both hate partaking in small talk with balding, later-aged, cologne-drenched, white men who don’t know when to let a conversation die. he chose the perfect time to ask you (after you emerged from the bathroom post-self-care bath), and addressed all of your grievances.

oh, you don’t have anything to wear? he already bought you an outfit, had it altered to perfectly fit your measurements, and bought you a pair of heels and a purse to match. oh, you won’t be able to get your hair done in time? he already scheduled an appointment with your usual hairstylist the day before the event, paid all of her fees, and tipped her very nicely. oh, your nails aren’t done? he booked you a spot at your preferred nail salon for a premium mani-pedi, and has a few nail inspiration photos picked out if you can’t decide. if you need your lashes done or need to get waxed, he can make the call right now; he has them on standby to fit you in.

knowing the amount of phone calls oscar had to partake in to arrange all of this causes you to fold and agree to join him. there’s nothing more the two of you hate than making phone calls–well, besides the pr events.

oscar had chosen an alluring burnt-orange mesh corset and matching ruched ankle-length skirt that looks beautiful against your warm, soft and shining brown skin. your hair is silk-pressed, length reaching your mid-back and your edges are laid in a minimal manner, matching the simplicity of your makeup look. simple gold rings are spread across a few fingers, ears accessorized with a pair of small good hoops oscar gifted you, and his initials rest in the dip between your clavicles attached to a thin gold chain. objectively, you're considerably modestly dressed, the only skin you're showing is on your arms, shoulders, a smidge of your decolletage, and the tops of your feet in the low-heeled strappy sandals.

this is the start of what oscar failed to account for. he didn’t expect the outfit to hug your curves like plastic wrap. the whole night he’s had to forcefully deny himself the opportunity to stare at your ass, but that doesn’t mean the other men at the event have the same courtesy. he’s taken to burning holes with his eyes into anybody who lets their gaze linger over your form for a second too long. on a regular day, oscar is generally unaffected by anyone who appreciates your body (they can look, but the second they try to touch–you let them know exactly how they had you fucked up), but if he catches one more mclaren engineer undressing you with their eyes–he will make zac fire all of them; he’ll plan his own race strategy and do his goddamn pitstop by himself.

oscar also didn’t account for how your timid and sweet attitude would have everyone enamored with you; at first, watching everyone eagerly attune to your shy words was amusing to him, but it quickly became a nuisance. he was originally leading you around the room, doing his rounds at any important figures’ tables, and everything was fine. and then, oscar had made the obvious mistake of making you laugh–a pleasant stream of giggles spilling from your lips, dimples deepening, and smile widening at whatever small joke he made. he’s always thrilled to see how you throw your head back in amusement, how your hands clap together gleefully, and how your eyes squint in from the force of your laughter. as he shakes himself out of your dazzling trance, he attempts to rejoin the conversation–but every single person at the table remains entranced and wide-eyed at you.

this would be completely fine, of course, if it was a one-off occasion; but it’s not.

suddenly, every person oscar tries to thank for supporting mclaren, starts ignoring him and paying more attention to you. he’s literally the pilot of the car that these people are spending an absurd amount of money on, but they can’t even bother to try and pretend to listen to him. men and women alike are finding any excuse to prolong conversations with you, and even lean within your personal space with the excuse that ‘they can’t hear you very well because you’re so soft spoken.’ nobody can invade your personal space, but oscar. he has no choice but to do the very thing he hates–pda. you continue to circle around the room, his hand constantly resting on the small of your back or the dip of your waist. when you’re in the middle of listening to some completely unnecessary story a man is telling you, oscar constantly adjusts your hair, plays with your rings, and smooths down your skirt if he feels like they’re trying too hard. you banish oscar to getting you a glass of water when he begins to interject in conversations in a passive-aggressive manner.

his third strike off the night, might actually be an overall win in his books. when you saw oscar in his new fitted suit, you stared him dead in the eye and told him to ‘get naked and rail you’. it’s this beautiful deep cream color that pairs perfectly with the dark orange tone of your outfit, but the vest underneath the suit jacket highlights his tiny waist so clearly that it makes you want to scream. in between socializing, you overwhelm oscar with compliments, unable to stop telling him how handsome he looks. you surgically attach yourself to his side and hug his arm; taking an occasional squeeze of his bicep, playing with his cufflinks, and tracing the veins on the back of his hand. oscar practically runs to get you a refill of water because he’d be unable to stop himself from getting fully hard if you touched him any longer–the trousers hide nothing.

he can feel your burning gaze from across the room, and turns back to watch you after asking a waiter for water, and catches your eyes roaming the length of his body. in high-definition, he sees your tongue wetting your lips before you bite at your bottom lip–and then, your attention is stolen away from some random man who’s introducing himself to you and the group of ladies you found yourself accosted by as soon as oscar left your side.

and, that’s it for oscar. he thinks he may have heard his last-fucking-button being pressed inside his head, and seethes. he goes to push off from his leaned stance against the counter and makes to start his warpath, but a hand grasps at his shoulder. oscar turns around snappily, biting out an irritated and sarcastic, “can i help you?”

“woah! calm down now, mate. thought you were going to bite my head off for a second,” it’s lando, “if i were anybody else i’m sure there would be an unfortunate tabloid of ‘how oscar piastri is the most rude f1 driver on the grid’” lando jokes teasingly, yet a hint of seriousness leaks into his tone.

oscar nods, understanding the underlying warning within the brit’s teasing. he apologizes softly to lando, before glancing back over at you, and can infer that you charmingly informed the man that you have a boyfriend—based on the way you point in his direction. oscar watches the polite smile fade from your face as the man continues to bother you, and the murderous look rises to his face again.

“OKAY”, lando claps abruptly, startling not only oscar, but everyone in a 10 foot radius. lando waves everyone else’s eyes away, smiling like he didn’t do anything, and speaks underneath his breath, “go. i’ll cover for you.”

oscar’s mouth drops open, baffled, “what?”

“leave—get your girlfriend and go,” lando says matter-of-factly, his smile becoming genuine, “zac probably won’t like to hear that you looked particularly murderous, and he definitely won’t like hearing that you slaughtered our sponsors, and that i let it happen.”

oscar snorts before he thanks lando sincerely, and the brit dismisses him, “i’m just looking out for my rookie teammate as the senior driver for our team. i can’t let your horny teenage mindset become common knowledge to our esteemed guests.”

“first of all,” oscar says dryly, his grateful mood dissipating at the mocking, “i didn’t even know you knew the word ‘esteemed' existed,” lando scoffs, “and secondly, you are literally only two years older than me.”

lando looks at oscar with a blank stare and deadpans, “do you want to leave or not?”

oscar daps up his teammate in farewell, and makes his way over to you as quickly as he can without seeming desperate, your glass of water left behind on the counter. your back is facing him as he approaches and you're still unwillingly participating in conversation with the man who can’t take no for an answer. as he gets closer, he can piece together the conversation; the dude doesn’t believe you have a boyfriend and you must be lying to him, and you’re adamant that your boyfriend is very real.

“look, bro. even if i was lying about having a boyfriend, why would i give you my number now? like, i’m just supposed to forget how you’ve been harassing me—“

oscar rests his hand on your side, and when you turn your head to see who’s touching you, he leans down and kisses you. it’s a kiss deep enough to let everyone know who you’re leaving with tonight, but not deep enough to be salacious (he can hear lando’s cackle from the other side of the room).

you melt into his kiss before he pulls away, leaving you dazed and disoriented, stumbling into him. oscar drapes his left arm around your shoulder, guiding you to tuck into his side, while he offers his right hand to the offending man for a handshake. “it seems i haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. i’m oscar, i drive for mclaren,” he introduces himself, sounding overly pleased.

the man angers, ignoring oscar’s extended hand and cockily states, “you should already know who i am. my family nicely lent you the mclaren you drove here tonight!”

“ah,” oscar smiles viciously, “if ‘your family’ kindly lent me the car, that would explain why i only remember your father’s name–and not his arrogant, disrespectful, and narcissistic trust-fund son’s name.”

the man stomps his foot in rage, like a spoiled brat, and questions, “who do you think you’re talking too?!”

oscar smirks, “nobody important, apparently,” (one of the ladies listening whispers a quiet ‘damn, that’s crazy’), oscar continues, “don’t worry, mate–i’ll make sure your father’s car returns home to him safely. should i bill you for any cleaning, in case i make a mess of it?”

the guy stumbles over a response before he scoffs and stomps away. oscar shrugs uncaring, before addressing the group of ladies who were cliqued to the side watching the whole interaction, “well. if you all don’t mind, i’m just going to steal her away from you ladies, if that’s okay?” (like there’s an option). the ladies fawn over oscar’s protectiveness before they let the two of you go, and then he starts herding you towards the exit.

it’s torture. in every five steps the two of you take, you're interrupted by various guests trying to catch you one last time. oscar feels like they’re all intentionally aggravating him; patting you on the arm, commenting on how eye-catching you look, and using the fact that the two of you are leaving to press a kiss to your hand in goodbye. you two burst out of the main doors and sigh in relief, for different reasons–for you, it’s because oscar didn’t give one of his sponsors brain damage, and for oscar, it’s because he’s one step closer to getting you in his bed.

you grasp at oscar’s hand, and he starts to lead you down the steps towards the valet, and as you fall into step at his side, you speak softly under your breath, “i can understand why you kissed me like that inside because the dude was being an asshole–even though you were marking your territory like some kind of dog–but, please; don’t tear this poor man’s throat out for helping me into the car.”

the australian remains quiet, properly chastised and works on releasing the pent up effect of the annoyances from inside the venue. everything is going well; the valet asks oscar for his parking ticket, and he goes to grab the keys, but stops just before he makes to start heading to the car, and turns back to you two and says, “i don’t know if i told you when you walked in but–you look incredibly beautiful tonight, miss. you could be a model, seriously. like, you should feel so lucky to have a woman like her–”

all attempts of oscar finding his peace are thrown out of the window. he interrupts the dude’s rambling, and bites out, “hey man, y’know what. i can just take the keys to the car. we can walk to it.”

the valet stutters, confused, “a-are you sure, i mean it’s like pretty far in the back. i can run and get it no pro–”

“it’s FINE! i mean, it’s cool, we can use the extra steps, y’know. enjoy the breeze and everything,” oscar says, slightly maniacal. there’s no breeze, it’s warm. the valet’s and your eyes meet for a second and a shared thought of “he’s trippin” is passed telepathically.

the valet concedes, not wanting to upset the f1 driver any farther and tosses him the keys. as the two of you are passing by, oscar hands the man a bill that’s probably too big based on the man’s astonished gasp. you call out to the man, continuing to walk further in the lot, “sorry about him! he just gets a little touchy about strangers driving his car, y’know?” oscar grumbles lowly next to you, and you smack him on the arm, “what did you want me to say? ‘oh sorry, my boyfriend just wants to fuck me really badly to soothe his needless jealousy?’”

“as long as he knows who’s the one who gets to take you home and fuck you.”

“oscar!” you squeak, “we both know we’d die of embarrassment if you said that. i can’t even imagine those words coming out of your mouth, in that order.”

you guys eventually puzzle out where the car is after several remote beeps of the car’s horn, and find that it’s literally tucked away in the last row, far corner with no surrounding cars for two rows.

oscar doesn’t open your door like he usually does, and leads you around to the driver's side. he opens the door, pushes the seat back as far as it goes, and sits down. without saying anything, he loosens his tie and goes to unbuckle his belt before you reach down and grab at his hand, bewildered, “oscar jack! what the fuck are you doing?”

he blinks, “i’m fucking you, right now. it’s too long of a drive back—i’m going to crash the car if you keep sitting next to me in that goddamn outfit. i was going to take you to the bathroom inside, but i figured you’d at least prefer the car. you can be a little louder here.”

your mouth dries, “you said they loaned you an incredibly rare, vintage mclaren, babe. i’m not gonna-“

oscar wrestles his way out of his suit jacket, spreads it underneath him on the leather seat, and pats his lap. “problem solved.”

shifting your weight, you glance around nervously. oscar is right, you would prefer the car over the bathroom. all those people inside who could overhear, gossip, and spread the news of how rookie mclaren, f1 driver, oscar piastri, had you yelling his name in the middle of an event. you’d pass.

“oh, c’mon now, babe. you didn’t think i saw the way you were eating me alive with your eyes inside,” your boyfriend teases, “i know you‘ve at least gotten a little wet for me already, haven’t you?”

that’s all it takes; the australian acting possessive and feening to get inside you is more than enough to have you straddling his lap and pulling the car door shut with a slam.

oscar tugs you into dirty make out, and you get lost in his pink lips, tugging teeth, and explorative tongue. the last of your breath tapers out in a reedy moan, and you break the kiss to pant against his lips, and oscar laughs. his laughter spreads through your chest, and it has your hips rolling against the bulge you feel underneath you. his amusement is cut off, and his hands fly to grip at your hips. he starts tugging you against him in a filthy grind, and choked off moans from the two of you start to fill the car.

you press kisses to oscar’s jaw line, paving a path down to his wide strong neck with your tongue. you suck on small patches of skin, not using enough suction to leave a mark, but enough for oscar to become aware of the fantasization that you could. the aussie gasps at every random suckle of your lips as he scrambles to pull the skirt up your legs. you shift your hips up to make it easier for him, as your hands feel down his torso to his belt. it unbuckles fairly easily, and you shove it out of the way, to unzip the slacks and pull his cock out.

oscar moans, throwing his head back at the feel of your hand on his length, and you get entranced in the trap that his pale thick neck is, again. you hum against his neck, introducing teeth alongside the ache of the suction of your mouth, and bully the collar of his shirt out of the way to find a space to leave a few marks. oscar’s breath freezes at the first hickey he feels you leave, but the rapid inhale he takes next clears his mind enough to have his right hand pull your panties to the side, and move to caress your heat.

you shudder on top of him, your breathy sigh amplified within the car. oscar sinks two fingers inside of you, and a much louder moan is tugged out. your hands fly up to grasp onto his shoulder, and your head tilts backward away from his neck in pleasure. his fingers thrust into you gently for a few beats slowly working to open you up for him and once he feels your cunt starting to relax, his thumb reaches to press at your clit. whines fill the air, as you lean all the way back, resting your back on the steering wheel allowing oscar all the space he needs to stretch you out. his fingers start curling as they drag out of you, and you can feel the pads of his fingers rubbing over a soft spot on the front of your walls.

oscar’s eyes were stuck marveling over the overwhelmed expression on your face, but once he starts feeling wetness dripping down his arm he glances down, and curses out a rough, “fuck, baby—you’re dripping all over me.” your cheeks burn hot, and you can’t tell if that’s out of humiliation or the effect of his awe-filled voice. your right hand releases his shoulder, and bats at his arm, before tugging at his wrist to pull his fingers out, “that’s enough, mmm, just get in me already.”

oscar eagerly draws away; he uses his clean hand to tug his wallet out of his back pocket, and tugs a condom out with a smidge of struggle before handing it to you. you snatch it out of his hand, biting it open and rolling it over his cock, and once it’s on, you tease, “jeez, osc. you really were planning on jumping me in the middle of the event tonight—grabbing a condom and everything; you think i’m that easy?”

he chuckles, satisfied, his hand drenched in your wetness rubbing over his cock to get him slick, and teases back, “you’re about to ride my cock in the parking lot of said event, pretending to be worried about ruining the seats of this vintage car. i’m not calling you easy, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?”

your cheeks are definitely burning from humiliation this time around, but you huff, ignoring him checking you. you tug his hand away, raising your hips, and guide him to your entrance with your own hand, before slowly sinking down.

twin sets of moans fill the air as he bottoms out; one of his hands reaches to palm at your ass (it’s sticky, so it must be the one he fingered you with), and the other grips at your waist tightly. you squirm on top of him, knees barely managing to find enough room to prop on the seat to give you a stable base. once you feel stable in your cramped position, you give a testing grind of your hips, and from there, it’s lights out.

oscar lets you set the pace for a few thrusts, suffering in the languid rock of your hips; you’re torturously tight around him, and he can only groan at the feeling of you wrapped around him. his chest heaves, before he brings both hands to halt your hips, and starts fucking up into you rough and quick. a scream jostles out of your throat at the unexpected change of speed, but you just take it with no complaints, allowing yourself to go limp against the wheel of the car to hold your body upright. he moves your body for you, pulling you downwards to meet his upward thrusts; and you feel him constantly applying pressure against that one tender spot right under your navel.

your boyfriend revels in the sound of the moans he’s punching out of your throat, admiring the way your head is thrown back—mouth open wide, eyes scrunched tight, lips bruised and bitten to hell. it’s a lewd picture, painted by himself. the car rocks along to his frantic rhythm, windows fogging, and sweat begins to form on both of your skin. the aussie’s core tightens; he won’t last much longer, you’ve had him half-hard the whole night.

a frustrated grunt escapes oscar, and you hum questionably about to ask what’s wrong–but his right hand leaves your waist to furiously start circling your clit, and an ear piercing shriek leaves you. “c’mon now, babe. ah-be good and come f’me yeah? im so close, baby–please,” he babbles, the last shred of sanity leaving him. his hips don’t falter once–to you it feels like they’re moving quicker, every sensitive spot receiving attention from the sharp snaps of them.

you cry out, it’s all too much; your hand reaches down to press against his navel in a feeble attempt to stop him from stroking so deep and roughly, and incoherent pleads try and tumble out of your mouth, “mm! osc–no! ah–too much, baby! it’s too much–hngh–feels weird–s-slow down!” it’s like his ears are filled with cotton; he can hear you begging down at him but can’t make out what your saying over the blood rushing in his ears. he’s trapped staring at your pretty cunt, watching the obscene amount of wetness coming out of you–the suit jacket underneath him is completely ruined, and he off-handedly thinks it won’t be saving the leather upholstery.

your legs start quivering and trembling–it damn near looks like you're freezing to death, even though the car has become as humid as a sauna. your own orgasm shocks you, and your eyes roll back erotically–unable to give oscar any warning. and in your last moment of awareness, you realize that something feels different, but it’s too late.

you choke on your scream of, “oscar, fuck!” as fluid gushes out of your cunt, and the first wave is enough to completely drench oscar’s pants, and oscar finally returns to the moment in amazement. he eagerly brushes his hand against your clit, and shortens his strokes to quick little jabs to force more of your juices out, and you can only ride along. you try to slam your legs shut, to jostle oscar’s hand away, but it’s futile with his torso propping you open for him. you’re sobbing messily, as he forces more liquid to spray from your cunt–and he moans out his own orgasm, ripped from him in surprise. the australian halts his stimulation this time around when you frantically tug his wrist away when the pleasure melds to pain, and allows himself to get a few more jerks of his hips in.

you fall forward, collapsing into his chest–the squelch of your thighs meeting his pant-covered ones has him humming and grinding his hips into you as gently as he can. the two of you shake against each other, hearts rabbiting as you catch your breath. oscar’s hands rise to rub at your back, bringing you down from the aftershocks still trembling over your body.

“i-i’ve never squirted before,” you whisper into his neck.

your boyfriend hums softly, “did you like it?”

he feels you nod against him shyly.

“then, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforts, knowing if he seems approving of it, you’ll be quicker to accept it as something good, “how i’m going to explain the ruined suit and car seat to mclaren on the other hand…”

a shaky laugh from you causes oscar to smile, “i told you you shouldn’t fuck me in the car.”

“how was i supposed to know that tonight would be the night i’d made you gush all over me?! i was hoping that when the time came we’d at least be on a couch,” he whines.

“shut the fuck up,” you joke, “i want a live play by play when you explain the cleaning bill to zac.”

the aussie pauses, faking thoughtfulness, “maybe i should send the bill to the trust-fund baby. zac would back me up–he’s american, he’d probably find it hilarious.”

oscar gently shifts you over to the passenger seat, and you tug your skirt all the way down, and he fights his way out of his slacks that stuck to his thighs with your wetness. he manages to wrangle them off and kicks them to the side of the car floor along with the soiled suit jacket, after fishing the keys out of them, sitting out in his boxers, and glances over to see you adjusting your appearance as best as you possibly can.

“you want a mcflurry?” the aussie offers.

“as long as we can get a fry with it,” you smile at the random shift in conversation, allowing him to hide his embarrassment.

oscar turns the keys in the ignition, and the engine rolls into life with a deep, vibrating hum. he catches your legs pressing together tightly, and you squirm at the purr of the engine under your seat.

“well,” oscar starts nonchalantly as he reverses out of the spot, “you have the time that it takes to get from the drive-through to the flat to finish eating–because as soon as we get home, i’m taking you to bed and learning how to make you squirt, consistently. i don’t care how long it takes, or how many orgasms you have–i’ll keep going ‘til you come dry, babe.”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess

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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

Text

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 | neil lewis x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a visit to gumshoe video could go one of two ways... but one way or another, you're gonna get him.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | varies

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, nothing too terrible just neil and reader bullying each other

this is a choose your own ending fic!! after the introduction, click to choose which way you want the story to go! each ending will have its own warnings section, so read those as well!

Technically, you always dressed well for work. Corporate jobs require professional attire, obviously; but you were slightly overdressed today, and it wasn’t to go into the office.

Tight skirt and matching blazer, a silky-satin button-up, black heels, and thigh-high stockings with a seam up the back. No, this wasn't how you dressed for a day in the office… this was how you dressed when you were closing a deal.

A little bell dinged as you walked into Gumshoe Video, and you looked around for a moment after you stepped inside: the decorations were… plentiful, and kitschy. The displays were so small, and just a quick glance at some of the shelves had you frowning in confusion. These are some seriously deep cuts… how do they make any money at this place?

Lucien came bounding up to you in an instant, hands pressed tight against his horribly out-of-fashion skinny jeans as if to hide that they were clammy already. "Do you, uh, need help finding anything?" he asked.

You offered him a pitying smile, about to offer him a friendly ‘no thanks, but’ and then tell him why you were really here… but you were interrupted.

Jonathan, who had taken a break from sipping on a soda behind the counter, coughed to get Lucien's attention as he quickly shook his head. He didn't seem to understand, though, looking back at you with his brows furrowed.

"Uh, ignore him,” Lucien laughed nervously. “Are you looking for a rental?"

"Dude, she's not here to get a movie!" Jonathan snapped. "Who dresses like that to pick up a tape?!"

"Maybe she's on her way to work!" Lucien returned sharply. "Or maybe she just came from somewhere!"

"Where?"

"My dreams!"

"No, your friend is right, I'm not here to pick up a movie," you admitted, and Lucien looked at you nervously.

"You, uh, don't like movies?" he wondered.

"I love them actually, but—"

The door to the office swung open, with Neil glaring at you from the other side of it. "You," he announced with disdain.

"—but I'm here to speak with the owner," you finished, tilting your head and grinning at Neil.

"We have nothing to speak about," Neil assured you as he walked towards you.

"We have multiple opportunities to discuss," you disagreed, "and my employers are very anxious that I deliver this message to you, so if we could please speak in your office—"

"Her employers? Is this chick in the mob?!" Lucien blurted out fearfully. "Neil, I know money's tight, but— oh fuck, was that 'small business loan' just a cover—"

"She's not from the mafia," Neil sighed. "They actually have some morals."

You extended a hand to introduce yourself to Lucien. After your name, you told him your job: "Head of Acquisitions, Media Giant, LLC."

Jonathan coughed again, poorly covering the sound of him saying "blood-sucking harpy" under his breath.

You smiled at him; "You really should get that cough checked out," you suggested pointedly.

“Whatever it is your puppet-masters want you to discuss with me,” Neil began, wiggling his fingers as if pantomiming a little marionette show, “you can take right over there into our women’s restrooms and shove directly up your ass.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” you smiled, “I bet you’ve been saving that one since our last little visit. Can we go to your office now?”

“No, you can’t go in there— we just had the priest come by and bless it, we wouldn’t want your feet to burn now, would we?” Neil snarked in return.

“Fine— get it out of your system,” you encouraged. “Say whatever’s been stuck in that pretty little head for the last month waiting for me to come back, and then we can have our meeting, alright?”

“I— well, uh—” Neil stalled, looking a little flustered as he suddenly leaned on a shelf of tapes with one hand. “You think I’m pretty?” he mumbled nervously, running his free hand through his hair— only to put a little too much weight on the shelf and nearly tilt it over, having to scramble to catch it and make sure it was balanced again.

“Dude, pull yourself together,” Jonathan snapped at him, and Neil glared at him before looking back at you.

“Fine, okay— we can have a very brief conversation in my office,” Neil offered with a sigh, motioning for you to follow him, “but it’s going to go the same way it did last time: with me telling you hell no and you having to do the walk of shame back to your headquarters.”

“Looking forward to it,” you smiled, waving goodbye to the other men before stepping into Neil’s office as he shut the door behind you.

You watched him step around you to sit at his desk, looking at you expectantly with his legs spread and his fingers interwoven in his lap.

“Am I allowed to ask why you’re dressed like a cowboy, by the way?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, and he frowned at you as he tossed aside the hat and slipped the poncho off over his head, leaving just a much more normal outfit of jeans and a button-up underneath.

“We’re running a special on Westerns,” he explained, “it’s fun, okay? Not that you would know fun if it smacked you on the ass and called you sweetcheeks.”

“Honey, that’s just what I call a Friday night,” you smirked as you stepped a little closer leaning against the side of his desk as he swallowed thickly. You couldn’t just sit across from him— you needed to keep the upper hand. “But I’m here for business. Let’s talk business, shall we?”

“Right, business,” he frowned. “I’m guessing your business here today is trying to buy my store, again?”

“Something like that,” you relented.

“You know, I guess I should take it as a compliment,” he grinned, leaning back further in the chair. “Clearly, you know I’m a threat.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re a Fortune 500 company, and you’re a guy wearing a poncho.”

“I took off the poncho!” he defended.

“So you’re… just a guy, then,” you corrected. “The point is, we’re not worried about you stealing our business at all. We just think this location is going to waste.”

“You want the real estate?” he realized.

“You’re in a perfect spot, you know,” you informed him, “you just need… a little more help utilizing it.”

He sneered at you sharply. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“You only hate me so much because you resent success,” you informed him with a sigh. “Just because you’re broke and proud doesn’t mean making money is a sin.”

“It is when you put making money above everything else,” he replied, “like creativity and community and the authentic customer experience—”

“How exactly does Media Giant conflict with those things?” you scoffed. “We’re a company founded on creativity— and we always foster community—”

“Spare me the doublespeak, Big Brother,” Neil scoffed, “you’re just a bunch of— of robots! Your whole company, it’s just full of people trying to make a quick buck, top to bottom: you think the people in the back at McDonald’s give a fuck about food? That’s what you are, the McDonald’s of the film industry. You’d probably let a monkey work there if it could wear a nametag and convince someone to rent Fast and Furious Fifty or whatever the fuck.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “let’s just say for a moment that you’re right. That my company is so terrible because we don’t employ people like you.”

He relaxed for a second, and you leaned in closer in hopes that he was really listening.

“This is your chance to fix that!” you explained. “You can save us from the inside out, you know. You can start from the bottom, be our best sales guy, and then it turns into a promotion and a raise and soon you’re climbing the corporate ladder— where you can make some real change.”

He shook his head, laughing a little. “That’s not actually possible, it’s just a fantasy you tell all your little minions to keep them compliant.”

“It’s what I did,” you shrugged.

“You?” he realized with a laugh. “You, in one of those navy vests and nametags, selling people tapes?”

“I’m sort of a cinephile,” you admitted. “I wanted a job where I could talk about movies all day— and thanks to me, that Media Giant location rented out more copies of The Seventh Seal than all the rest combined.”

He stood up quickly, stepping closer to where you sat on his desk. “Y-you like The Seventh Seal?”

“It’s a masterpiece,” you answered, speaking a little softer as he was so close, “Bergman is a genius.”

A strange look crossed over his face, a heavy-lidded sort of look as he examined you. “Tarantino?”

“Overrated, but not bad,” you replied quickly.

“Tarkovsky?”

“Good, but hard to watch.”

“Lynch?”

You scoffed; “Don’t insult me.”

He laughed a little, crossing his arms and looking away from you. “You could be one of the good ones,” he realized, “but you sold out. And now you’re just a suit.”

“It’s not so bad,” you smirked, “I think you’d like a little more… structure, given the chance.”

“And that’s what you’re offering?” he pressed, and you nodded.

“We’ll let you keep the name, your employees… most of the decoration,” you offered, “you’ll just be technically a Media Giant franchise. You have nothing to lose, and so much fucking money to gain.”

He sighed a little, looking at you again. You could tell he was considering it, but not very thoroughly. All you could do was hope for the best, and wait for an answer…

CLICK HERE FOR THE SUB!NEIL ENDING

CLICK HERE FOR THE DOM!NEIL ENDING

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #dom!neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis smut

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bitchesgetriches · 4 months

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{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal

We’re all in this together. Don’t give up.

On food and groceries:

How to Shop for Groceries like a Boss

Why Name Brand Products Are Beneath You: The Honor and Glory of Buying Generic

If You Don’t Eat Leftovers I Don’t Even Want to Know You

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

You Should Learn To Cook. Here’s Why.

On entertainment and socializing:

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

7 Totally Reasonable Ways To Save Money on Cheap Entertainment

Take Pride in Being a Cheap Date

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There

Your Library Lets You Stream Audiobooks and eBooks FOR FREEEEEEE!

What’s the Effect of Social Media on Your Finances?

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

On health:

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

Why You Probably Don’t Need That Gym Membership

How to Get DIRT CHEAP Pet Medication, Without a Prescription

On other big expenses:

Businesses Will Happily Give You HUGE Discounts if You Ask This Magic Question

Understand the Hidden Costs of Travel and Avoid Them Like the Plague

Other People’s Weddings Don’t Have to Make You Broke

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income)

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years

Season 2, Episode 2: “I’m Not Ready to Buy a House—But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It

On buying secondhand and trading:

Almost Everything Can Be Purchased Secondhand

I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online

The Delicate Art of the Friend Trade

On giving gifts and charitable donations:

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

In Defense of Shameless Regifting

Make Sure Your Donations Have the Biggest Impact by Ruthlessly Judging Charities

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

How to Spot a Charitable Scam

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Say “No” When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?

On resisting temptation:

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

On minimalism and buying less:

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

Everything I Know About Minimalism I Learned from the Zombie Apocalypse

Slay Your Financial Vampires

The Subscription Box Craze and the Mindlessness of Wasteful Spending

On saving money:

How To Start Small by Saving Small

Not Every Savings Account Is Created Equal

The Unexpected Benefits (and Downsides) of Money Challenges

Budgets Don’t Work for Everyone—Try the Spending Tracker System Instead

From HYSAs to CDs, Here’s How to Level Up Your Financial Savings

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess

We will periodically update this list with newer articles. And by “periodically” I mean “when we remember that it’s something we forgot to do for four months.”

Bitches Get Riches: setting realistic expectations since 2017!

Start saving right heckin’ now!

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#frugal #saving money #personal finance #money tips #financial tips #financial literacy #financial freedom #money #debt #money management #how to save money

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chaosandmarigolds · 8 days

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More Mafia(Mob??) leaders!daughter and Simon :p pt 2

(I don’t know manhattan, I’m making stuff up.)

“Okay, so,” you hold out your phone to the man, having pulled up the menu to one of your favorite restaurants, “Just double checking- this place can do gf, df, vegan, egg free, soy free, and what else um…” your faltering gave you enough time to look up to see his expression, still wearing that mask but you didn’t mind all that much. However you could see his eyebrows furrowed.

“You don’t have any allergies do you?”

“No.” Simon replied gruffly, taking a quick look behind his shoulder to Ivon- who trailed a good ten or so feet behind.

“Okay…cool! I just didn’t wanna take you somewhere and then you can’t eat anything because that sucks,” You shrug it off as you walk, the sun beginning to set but for the most part it was still light out, “So…Simon, do you have any pets?”

His attention is drawn back to you at the attempt of small talk, voice luring but riddled with a nonchalant smile, a genuine question rather than a groaning force in order to be polite. “One. Sheppard, he’s t’ree.”

That had triggered a whole ramble, you going on about how your childhood pet was a German shepherd who you had named Maddie. And that conversation had lingered until you both were still sitting happily at the table within the plush walls of the restaurant, sipping some wine that held more worth than the name Lieutenant Simon Riley.

All the same, as you both waited for your appetizers to come the words had died down and he thought it best to speak. “So what do you do?”

You blink a few times, bringing the glass to your lips as you wait for him to elaborate.

“For work?”

To that you nod, sipping the wine as you set it down, “My father-okay, well yeah I know, Nepo baby and all that, I should preface this by saying I’m so so super thankful for everything I’ve ever been given, and yeah,” you pause to breathe, it was a spiel you gave to anyone you just met, and normally they wouldn’t believe you, but you meant the words. “I-I know you’re just like ‘yeah sure’ but I am, I am. Anyway, my father- I dunno, he’s like a loan shark or something. He runs-well you know those MDR credit unions? Yeah, that’s my dad’s business, and I’m HR.”

There was a pause and you breathe again, dipping your gaze low to bring the wine over to you, “Anyway…yeah, aside from the flower shop, what do you do?”

Simon had listened to it all with a shaker full of a salt, either you were oblivious to the situation of your family name or you were a good lair- he thought it to be the former. “Working out.”

“I can tell.”

His eyes quickly flashed up from the porcelain plate to you, and only for you to quickly direct your gaze elsewhere. Instead of leaving it, he laughed and then nodded, “Thank you.”

“Mmhm, you’re welcome.“ your words were muffled and you keep your eyes anywhere but his face, “so um…you ever been to the art museum?”

Simon gives you a look, “The one of seventh?”

A nod.

“Isn’t it closed?”

To those words you smile, “Not if your father is the number one donator.”

(Annnnd!!! That’s all I got for right now. Toodles!)

Tag list: @blackhawkfanatic

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x you #cod fluff #cod x you #simon riley x reader #call of duty fluff #cod simon riley #ghost simon riley

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justanotherarmyfangirl · 8 months

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Dark&Wild (6) His Obsession

You are an interpreter for international idols, but you soon realized their lavish lifestyle came at a cost, and somehow you became the price. The man who came to collect had a special kind of vendetta, and you, so foolishly, sparked his interest.

In this story Yoongi is the villain and you will hate him! Everyone else, well, the question becomes not if there are good guys or who will save you, but how will you save yourself?

yandere loan shark!Yoongi x blind!reader x bodyguard!Jungkook x idol singer!Jimin x idol rapper!Namjoon x idol singer!Taehyung x detective!Hoseok x detective!Seokjin

TW: 18+ only, dubcon/noncon, mental torment, physical torture, mind break, violence, Stockholm syndrome, reader is blinded before events that take place in the story, Jimin is an addict, Yoongi is a sadist, voyeur, fingering.

---

Alone in the bath was your favorite time.

The warm water felt nice on your aching muscles, the relaxing smell of lavender helped calm your anxieties.

You massage the suds into your skin, listening to the trickle of water, wondering where in this massive place your captor, Min Yoongi, might be right now. With your luck, he’s already in his bedroom, waiting for you.

HIS OBSESSION

You hated how even now, finally alone, you still thought of him. You couldn’t escape him, he was with you even when he wasn’t, and you feared no matter what happened in the future, you would never be able to get away, he would always be there, an irritating voice in the back of your head, low and raspy, taunting you.

You were almost grateful you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t stand the thought of his face imprinted behind your eyelids, in your dreams like the way his touches were, the heat of his palm against your skin, against your throat, against your hip-

Min Yoongi…I’ll kill you…

You clenched your jaw in anger, ignoring everything else you felt when you thought of him. When he…

When Yoongi fucked you the white hot rage you felt deep in your chest and the heat of his unforgivable arousal in the pit of your stomach almost became indistinguishable. When you thought of those moments when he was on top of you, and the scorch of his tongue, the searing stretch in between your legs, it made everything inside you feel heavy, feel burning.

It must be a sickness, the way your head feels hot every time you think of it, of him.

You sink lower and kick your feet out of frustration, splashing the water over the tub’s rim.

It’s quiet. There’s a small low voice that reminds you again, it’s been months now and you haven’t seen or heard of Taehyung, or anyone at all.

There’s a lingering thought to drown yourself as you splash aimlessly, and another defiant angry voice that screams you should be drowning Yoongi instead.

Oh you’ve tried to.

To cope with your circumstances you rationalized, he was going to take what he pleases from you anyways, punish you for your continual combativeness, might as well give him a good reason to do it. Still, no matter what you do, overpowering the loan shark never works.

So damn disappointing.

You still remember the time you had stayed here until your toes and fingers became wrinkly, refusing to leave until Yoongi grabbed at you and you pulled him right into this nice large deep bathtub of his.

After the initial shock wore off he easily overpowered you, took advantage of your slippery wet nakedness and fucked you like you hadn’t just tried to murder him.

That time he wasn’t even mad you had soaked his designer suit, you remember how you could hear the smile behind his mocking words while you choked on soapy water, “If you wanted me to join you, you could have just asked.”

You almost managed to drown him again when he came, if you hadn’t needed to breathe as well.

You let the water slosh over the tub’s edge, dunking yourself under the bubbles.

And scream.

You don’t hear the knock on the door, too busy wallowing in your own lavender scented misery. A hand pulls on your shoulder, lifting your head before you can inhale water.

“What?!” you splutter, wiping your face.

“I…” Jungkook clears his throat, looking away from your nakedness, letting his initial worries subside. “You shouldn’t do that,” he mutters.

“Towel,” you say simply. Not in the mood to argue, you stand up. With Yoongi, you are used to his leering presence. He’s already seen every bit of you, and loves reminding you about it when he wants to make you feel humiliated. And now you’ve kind of let your indifference about your body extend to Jungkook as well. You knew he wasn’t going to try anything like the others might have, plus, you enjoy making the henchman stutter.

You feel soft fabric plop against your front, catching it before it falls into the tub. “Hold my shoulder so you don’t slip,” he says.

The edge of the towel exposes the side of you as Jungkook moves your hand to his shoulder. “I need-” His hand wraps around your soaking back, pulling you out of the tub and placing you on tile in one swift motion. “-t-thanks.”

Jungkook hands you a silk robe, a pink short kimono style Yoongi chose for you that Jungkook already knows you’re not going to like. He can’t help but chuckle when he hears you groan, muttering about the thin article of clothing. You turn your head in his direction but you don’t comment on it.

Jungkook leans in the doorway, hands in his pockets, waiting for you.

He’s to deliver you to Mr. Min.

Everyone has good and bad days, today is one of your better days, and also one of Mr. Min’s bad days. He’s had to kill someone, and that means, Min Yoongi is not getting his money and that pisses him off more than anything. That also means with almost certainty Yoongi is going to make today one of your bad days.

Jungkook tries not to think about it as he listens as you hum contently, knowing what’s to come. He glances over at you. Jungkook tries to give you some modesty, but he’s still a man, and a curious one at that. He chooses to ignore that old saying as his eyes linger on your naked body as you dry yourself. As long as he doesn’t touch…

“Have you seen Tae?”

Jungkook might have ignored the question, he has ignored your questioning when it came to such matters, but he feels sorry for you, for what’s to come, and so, in hopes that you won’t let your day be ruined, Jungkook answers.

“Yeah, he came to one of our establishments the other night.”

“Really? Alone? Did you talk to him?”

“He was alone. Usually Mr. Park joins him, but not in a while,” Not since we took you. “He drank,” and fucked a prostitute, but Jungkook decides to leave that out.

“Did he,” you pause, “Did he ask about me?”

You sound so hopeful.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, still waiting by the door.

“He did?” you sound so excited, so happy. Perhaps if you had let his words sink in, you could have noticed the hesitation in his voice. “What did he say? Did you tell him what I told you?”

“He wanted to know how you were being cared for, that he and the others miss you.” Jungkook lies, telling you what he thinks you most want to hear.

You stay quiet and he wonders if you see through his lies. “Did you tell him?”

“I wasn’t able to, Mr. Min was right there. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, next time.” You sound so hopeful, pleased, grateful to him. Jungkook never promised he would tell Taehyung anything for you, and he doubts that coward would do anything with the information if he did. But you still try, asking him sweetly every time, never getting mad when Jungkook gives you another excuse. Your hopes are too high, and Jungkook can’t be the one to destroy them.

You smile in his general direction. You can’t see him, so he lets himself smile back.

“We watch and bet, it’s just a couple of us that do it.”

“I want to listen! You have to let me!”

“You really like soccer that much?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes! The announcers are so animated! I can get the jist of it, and our company would hold these big parties on game day and get chicken and beer, just feeling everyone’s energy was so much fun.”

“Um I don't think it will be the same-”

“You telling me gangsters don’t know how to party?”

Jungkook laughs. “Okay okay, I’ll see.”

You laugh happily.

Yoongi can hear your laughter. It’s melodic and pleasant. However Jeon Jungkook’s laughter? Mixing with your own, tainting it?

Yoongi’s short temper has already hit its fuse.

He watches your shadows before you enter the room and the way the larger shadow moves away slightly before you enter. You grip Jungkook’s bicep with one hand and hold his forearm with the other, using both hands, overly touchy…overly affectionate. Yoongi clears his throat.

Jungkook leads you to the loan shark, until you are standing by Yoongi’s side. Only then does Jungkook leave you to take his spot on Yoongi’s other side.

You’re in his office, you presume. Your thigh hits the hard oak of his desk. Yoongi taps his phone. “Translate this.” He plays an audio. The volume is very low, you crouch down to hear it clearer.

“They were talking about their wives,” you frown.

Fucking pigs, you think, and you hope their wives leave them.

Yoongi cracks his knuckles. “That’s it?”

“They were talking about their wives’…private parts,” you cross your arms, disgusted. “I rather not go into detail.”

“Hmm, I thought they were going to double cross me.” He finally relaxes, pulling your body closer, he sets you into his lap.

You’ve learned a few things about Yoongi, the biggest revelation was that he was extremely paranoid. “Well they still could,” you note, poking at his paranoia. You lean your back against him, just to feel more comfortable, “but no, that conversation was not about that.”

“We’re going back to Japan at the end of the month.” You stiffen in his hold. “Tokyo this time, we’ll be staying for a few weeks.”

“Two weeks? Are you setting up another parlor?”

“Close,” Yoongi clicks his tongue, amused by your curiosity of his dealings. “We have a few host bars there, just checking in. There are some regulars with high tabs we’re going to be…visiting. Need you there.”

You exhale, fingers fiddling with the string of your robe, “Okay.”

Translating for a bunch of blubbering business men begging for forgiveness, or a longer extension, or just another chance at life, was such a stark contrast from the bubbly television interviews you used to do.

But there was always a fakeness during press junkets that you really hated. All of it felt like such a shallow performance, and it made you feel like a circus animal at times, putting on a show, no matter how offensive the question, no matter how you felt, you had to smile and translate with a happy face.

Hell, there’s no superficiality around you now, even if Yoongi’s targets sure put on a performance…

Traveling with the loan shark really showed you how dark the depths of humanity could sink. There was rawness and realness to the underground scene that you could just feel in the air, swirling amongst the cigarette smoke.

No bullshitting, no pleasantries, straight to business. It was one of the few things you didn’t actually hate about this predicament you were in, the few moments where you felt like you had some power.

You were the voice of the most powerful man in the room, and by extension that meant your voice held power. The men in the room would, sometimes quite literally, be hanging on your next words.

If you didn’t like the men you were translating for, you weren’t afraid to make it obvious to the loan shark in your translations, and he would seem to punish them harsher for it. It’s happened so many times now that it was no longer a coincidence to you.

Now if only he would listen to you on other matters…

Yoongi drapes his hand over your front, under the opening in your robe. You don’t flinch like before, what’s the point in flinching? Yoongi will just grab at you tighter, make it hurt if you do.

“You smell good.” Yoongi’s nose tickles your neck.

You cough. “I just took a bath.”

He runs his hand across your suppleness, pinching your nipple.

He knows you are holding it in, staying quiet to spite him, it’s amusing to him, so he continues to play with you, letting your robe open wider and wider until he hears someone clear their throat.

Jungkook turns to leave.

“Jeon, stay.”

Jungkook was wrong.

Yoongi wasn’t going to take out his anger on you.

He was going to take it out on him.

“Why are you doing this?” you mutter, not used to an audience. Usually Yoongi isolates you to his bedroom when he’s home and he’s surprisingly quite professional when you’re out in company, even if everyone knew what he did to you behind closed doors.

“He is not bothered,” Yoongi turns his chair so he and you are facing Jungkook, “Are you, Jeon?” he asks the young gangster. He yanks one of your legs open.

“No.” It’s flat. It’s a lie. Jungkook knows Yoongi doesn’t want to hear the truth.

“Well I fucking mind!”

You yell when he grabs you by the neck. “You don’t have to always do what he says, you know. You’re not like me,” you swallow, speaking to Jungkook. You’re not weak like me, you imply.

“Hohoho.” Yoongi laughs. “Hear that, want to rebel against your mean old boss, Jeon?” he hums. “Did you ever think all those nice things our Jungkookie does for you is because I ask him to? To keep an eye on you, you do your job better when you’re not a mopey brat. You should be on your knees thanking me for giving you a friend.”

“Fuck you.”

“What did you say? Say that louder.”

You stay quiet, head down.

“I could have made him be the one to dole out your punishments. Jungkook is skilled with a knife. He has a taste for blood, did you know that? People call him The Maestro…when we need someone to sing, we send him. After enough time, there's a certain pitch everyone gets to, of screaming. His favorite method is fileting his victims until they sing that tune. You know what that means? Pulling the skin back until you see muscle.” You shiver when he runs his fingertips across your arm. “That’s the kind of man he is.” Your stomach flips at his words.

“Every bit of kindness is because of me.”

“I know,” you mutter.

“SO YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Can I go, Sir?” Jungkook speaks up.

“No. Stay right there,” he says, undoing the tie around your waist. “Jeon, like what you see?”

“No.” Jungkook knew better than to ever admit he had grown fond of what Yoongi deemed was his.

“No? But she’s pretty,” he says, uncovering everything, pulling your legs open wider. “And so tight.”

You cry out, wanting nothing more than to attack the loan shark for putting you on display like this, and it takes every ounce of restraint to not fight him…to not close your legs...

“Feel for yourself, touch her.”

“Sir?” Jungkook looks very displeased at being roped into this.

“Come here and touch her.” Yoongi waits and smiles as he watches Jungkook hesitantly step closer.

“Please, don’t,” you whimper.

“I thought you would enjoy this. Since you are so close now, chit-chatting and making jokes all the time, hm? Don’t you ever think about-” Yoongi puts his hand between your legs, “-what it would be like? You can’t see, but our Jungkookie is very handsome.” Yoongi’s lips brush against your ear.

“I only think about ways to please you, Sir,” you grit out very unconvincingly.

Yoongi laughs. “You don’t want Jungkook to touch you like this?”

You try to ignore the pressure of his fingers inside you. You couldn’t bring yourself to confirm such a thing in front of the young gangster, so you admit something just as horrible. “Just you, I just want you.”

Yoongi presses his lips against yours, so forcefully you feel your teeth knock against his and you yelp, pushing him away, clearly disgusted.

You can’t hide your hatred for him when he does that, when he kisses you like that. Even with his hands groping you, fingering you, kissing Yoongi just feels worse, feels wrong.

Yoongi grabs your chin, pulling your head back to him. Yoongi eyes the man in front of him whose gaze hasn’t left a particular painting on his wall. Jungkook refuses to look at you like this.

That just won’t do.

“You know what I think? I think someone has a little crush. And I know it’s not you,” he murmurs in your ear.

Jungkook glances over to his boss. He has you spread over his legs, his fingers pressed deep inside your cunt as you shake against him.

“You’ll say whatever sweet little words you can think of to worm your way in my mens’ good graces, so convinced they will help you escape eventually,” he says. Yoongi manages to keep the tempo in his ministrations precise, pressing into you deeper, thumb circling your clit in such a mind numbing way you feel like your body is catching fire.

“Why would I try something so stupid?” you grunt.

“They won’t betray me, you know.”

“Oh, I know. How nice it must be for you,” you mock. “How many men did you say you have killed for crossing you again?”

Yoongi’s temper rises as you hit a nerve for him. He pushes you off his lap, and you fall at Jungkook’s feet, knees scraping against Yoongi’s hard wood flooring.

You lean against Jungkook, curled into yourself, pulling your robe closed.

Yoongi watches as you move closer to Jungkook like a scared child looking for comfort. “Jeon, punish her.” He stands up, anger overflowing. “Hurt her, since that’s what she seems to want instead. NOW!” he yells.

Jungkook looks down at you and sighs exasperatedly.

There are a million and one different things a man could do to a woman to hurt her…

What will Jungkook pick?

Jungkook lifts you to your feet by your hair, making you cry out in pain. He ignores it, whatever he is feeling. He’s done it so many times it’s come natural: dissociating from the situation.

“It’s okay, do it, I don’t blame you.”

Goddammit, Jungkook inwardly curses. Don’t you see how much worse you are making it for yourself? Why did you say that? To make Jungkook feel better about this frustrating situation he’s in? Jungkook doesn’t have any feelings…

Yoongi raises his brow and grinds his teeth, crossing his arms, waiting impatiently for Jungkook to do something.

Jungkook releases you and for a fleeting moment you believed he was going to refuse.

In that moment you actually believed he would go against Yoongi.

In that moment you were relieved.

And then you felt a stinging across your cheek, so hard you toppled over.

“Not her face!”

Before you can cry out, a fierce kick into your stomach knocks the wind out of you, once, then twice more. Jungkook has to make sure Yoongi sees he doesn’t care about what happens to you.

You bring your knees into your body and cradle your head, not knowing where Jungkook might strike next. You're sure he’s pulling his punches for you, but holy shit it hurts, and you can’t imagine just how strong he really is. You shake from head to toe, and finally your muscles decompress and you’re able to inhale and catch your breath.

You roll over on your back, waiting for what’s next as you take in deep breaths. Jungkook grips your robe, lifting your body.

This isn’t going how either men want. Jungkook stands over over, staring at the blood dripping from your lip, frozen in place. Yoongi can see the remorse twisting in Jungkook’s expression and how you are taking the beating in strides, lips pressed together in determination.

You are an exceptionally annoying martyr. You sacrificed yourself for Jimin and now, Yoongi now sees with a sick realization, you think you are doing it for Jungkook. His Jungkook.

“Jeon…” Yoongi looks down at you, clenching his fist. “...leave.”

Yoongi will make you regret this. The loan shark really couldn’t help himself. It was going to be him and no one else…

Jungkook looks back one last time before closing the door, and sees a glimpse of your glowering expression as his boss stands over you and pulls off his jacket. Jungkook was always calm, always collected, yet in that moment, his heart rate jumps.

Yoongi got what he wanted in the end, Jungkook was keeping his distance from you now, ignoring you almost completely when he was around.

You’re annoyed, stuck having to listen to your new “handler” Jon explain in excruciating detail his recent trip to Phuket. He’s the only other one of Yoongi’s men you can stand to be around for extended periods of time, but if you have to listen to another pun involving fornication in Phuket you’re going to jam something in your eardrums!

“What about you?”

“What about me?” you hum bored.

“...so, miss y/n. I have to confess, I did some research on you after what we talked about,” he lowers his voice. “You’re kind of a celebrity. Can I have your autograph?”

You laugh. “Shut up! JTJ are the celebrities, I was just along for the ride,” you pausing. “Any recent headlines that I might be interested in?”

“Well, the hot news is that JTJ have postponed their next album.”

“Really? I wonder why,” you ask, concerned. “Have, um, are there any articles about…what happened?”

“Nothing, only a forum thread between their fans speculating if you got fired. Boss man really worked his magic.”

You sigh, flopping over on the couch.

“Jon, any chance you’d drop me off at the corner store no questions asked?” You have begged to be released so many times now your enthusiasm has all dried up.

“Sorry honey, but I intend to live a long life.”

You snort. “As a gangster? Good luck.”

“Ha!” Jon goes uncharacteristically quiet. “How much did you say that debt of your boy was?”

You snort at the implication that Jimin, the elusive idol, was in any way ‘yours.’ “Eight billion won, something like that,” you huff.

You suspect Jon’s wincing as he sharply inhales. “Ahh shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” You change the subject. “You coming to Japan with us this time?”

“That I am!”

“Wonderful,” you say, emotionless.

“Now about that autograph.”

“You’re joking-” you cough out surprised.

“I printed out a picture and everything!”

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh. Your fingers run over a piece of paper Jon places in your hands. “What picture?” you ask unable to contain your amusement.

“Well, there was an interview in France, you’re wearing a bright orange dress, looking like a real bigshot, I took a screenshot of it.”

“Orange, really?” you grimace, you never really questioned what coordinators put you in and it’s not like you could see yourself but you still had pride in your appearance.

“You looked nice, you match the others.”

“JTJ?” you perk up.

“Yep, well…I cropped them out.”

You giggle. You hold the picture in your hands delicately. You wish you could see the photo, see how you look now and how you might have fit in with them.

“Yeah, I’ll sign it, you weirdo.”

A pen is placed in your hands. Any other day you would have thought to jam it in your eye and end it all. Today, you try your best to scribble your name down for Jon and feel like your old self.

---

“What’s this?”

“You don’t recognize them?”

“I do, but-” You believed Yoongi had destroyed all your things in his anger. “You kept them?” You rummage through a whole box of your books that Yoongi has unceremoniously dropped at your feet.

“Yes. Here, some new books for you too.” Yoongi drops a few clean and crisp books into your lap, the pages not bent and worn from multiple readings like yours were.

You want to question why now all of a sudden, but you were too afraid the temperamental man might take your questioning wrongly and take away his gift as quickly as he gave it to you.

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Pick one and come with me.” You let him lead you. You suspect he did this because you’ve become practically mute around him, refusing to speak to him until your trip to Japan.

Who knew the silent treatment would actually work. You hold the book close to your chest while Yoongi drives. It’s a long drive, you try to keep track of every turn and stop but it’s impossible.

“What place is this?” It didn’t smell like smoke or alcohol or sweat, the regular scents that usually assaulted you when you went out with the loan shark. It smelled like…baked bread.

“Just read your book.” Yoongi leads you to a cushioned seat and hands you a drink, and when you place the straw to your lips you sip on something sweet and milky, a rich coffee concoction. Yoongi sits next to you, clears his throat and doesn’t say another word.

You flip through the first pages of your book. Is this some business thing…or is this another trick… You remembered the last time you felt disarmed like this.

You remain stiff, sipping on your coffee and slowly reading. The sounds and chatter around you could only mean you’re in a cafe. There’s thousands of cafes just in the city alone, who knows where you could be. Yoongi’s arm rests on the seat behind you, his fingers touching your shoulder every couple of minutes to remind you of his presence, as if you could ever forget him.

You finish another page, flipping the paper. “Is there…someone I know around?” you ask, trying to sound uninterested, thinking this really was a scenario like last time.

“No, but if there was, what do you think you’re going to do?” He sounds just as uninterested.

“I’ll scream-”

Yoongi’s lips brush across your cheek. “Then I’ll kill him. Not now, but I will kill him.” He leans back again. “Maybe I just wanted a croissant, this place has the best in Seoul. Want to try?”

You grunt, too confused to do anything else but open your mouth when he puts the half eaten pastry to your lips. It’s flaky and buttery with rich custard and burnt sugar on the top, it really is one of the best desserts you’ve ever eaten.

Part of you almost played along. You were about to just succumb to whatever this was, an odd date between the two of you, and suck it up and enjoy yourself. You almost reached out to him, you almost thanked him.

“If you think doing this will make me hate you any less-”

“You are so very stubborn-”

“You are the most stubborn!” You hiss back, “I don’t understand you. I don’t want to be here with you, I don’t want to be around you- s-stop…” Yoongi grips your hand, thumb rubbing circles along your palm, and doesn’t stop even when you go quiet.

“Just drink your coffee and enjoy your book,” he says. His deep voice holds none of his usual berating tone. You wouldn’t dare call it soft, but...

“Why am I here?” you persist.

“Didn’t you tell my men you wanted to go out? That you missed going to places like cafes?” You bite your tongue. Jon is such a snitch. “We can do this again, we can do this as many times you want-”

“The ruthless gangster will spend his precious time at cafes for me?” you ask suspiciously.

“Is that what you want?”

You didn't know if this was what you wanted, being with him, was it really better than being stuck in his home alone? At least this meant you might have a chance at getting away…

“How long do I get?” You finally relax into your seat, opening your book again.

Yoongi smirks. “We’ll see, I am in no rush today.”

Yoongi watches you read, glancing every once in a while and then staring at nothing else but you, unable to look away as you run your fingers along each page, slow at times and fast at other times, like you were trying to get to the end of the scene quickly, your lips would curl up and you would sit up straighter in excitement, and then your movements would slow and your fingers would go over a line once more as you quietly laughed to yourself.

You had your head down at first, then you looked up and far away, as if you were imagining the story in front of you. Yoongi wondered what it was exactly that you would think of, how much could you still remember by your own memory.

“I can feel you staring,” you huff, turning in his direction.

“Not me,” he grunts, lying.

“Ah,” you hum, head tilting, “Well, they will do that, or try to completely ignore me. There’s never really an in between with strangers I’ve noticed. I guess it’s a good thing I can’t see them staring… Two good eyes and can’t mind their own business,” you mutter.

“Lucky for me, I’m sure you would call them out, probably try to start a fight.”

You snort. Eventually your fingers slowed to a stop and you dogeared the page, closing the book. You picked up your glass and finished the drink, ice now melted to the coffee and watering down the strong flavor. Shame, you liked it strong.

“Ready to go home?”

You looked anxious over the question. You tightened your grip on your glass. “We really came just to go to a cafe, no other places you had to go?” you ask suspiciously.

Yoongi crosses his arms. Of course, you would suspect ulterior motives from him, but this time, the loan shark really did not have any other preoccupations, he only wanted to see how you would react out in public with him like this, if you could be trusted with some freedom. You were not falling into line as the other men did, but you did seem more…tame.

He tests you. “Actually, we are going to make a stop at one of my clubs. Lets go.” You seem to relax at that, like you’ve just guessed the right answer to a question asked of you, like you knew all along Yoongi wasn’t really doing this just for you, but for him, confirming he was still the selfish loan shark you had grown to know.

“That was quick,” you deflate when Yoongi steps back into the car after reaching the location to his club. You were building up the courage to try to test the door before he was already back and starting the car. As Yoongi drove in silence there was a nagging inside you, a question you did not want to know the answer to when he had told you, you did not need to actually come inside with him. It sat in the pit of your stomach and flipped around when his hand moved to your leg and rested on your thigh. Did he really just want to go to a cafe with you after all? What did Yoongi want from you?

---

“What are you doing?”

You flinch, removing your hand off of Yoongi’s jaw. You didn’t know he had woken up.

“Trying to kill me in my sleep?” Yoongi grunts.

“Yes,” you say. It was a lie, you both knew it. You don’t know why you did it, or perhaps you just did not want to admit it.

You had woken up with him tangled around you, your naked bodies interweaved together under sheets, his skin against yours warm. It was not overbearing, it was an inviting heat, enveloping you.

You woke up still groggy from sleep and you didn’t think about how much you hated the man who was holding you softly.

You reached out and touched him just to feel a little less lonely. You’ve felt so alone now without the few interactions from Jungkook you had grown so accustomed to. The loneliness, it had become gnawing at you horribly, and it was a cruel irony Yoongi was the only one who was able to lessen it for you.

Yoongi grunts and rolls on top of you. His hands wrap around your wrists as he lifts himself up to look at you. He studies your unease. You can feel his morning wood pressing against you. You hold your breath, expecting him to continue from last night’s activities, but he doesn’t, just drops down, letting go of your wrists, resting his head against your naked chest, deciding to go back to sleep. It surprises you. Yoongi must be tired…

You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you just keep them beside your head as you listen to his steady breathing.

You want to go back to sleep, so you don’t think about him…

So you don’t have to think about how you want to hold him…

The need twists in your gut, makes you queasy, makes you want to cry out in frustration, but you just lay there, unwilling to accept the same man who was causing you this turmoil was also simultaneously bringing you a comfort.

You will yourself to fantasize about ways to kill him instead, but your fantasies don’t seem to bring you as much joy as before, instead there is another unfamiliar twisting in your stomach, a pain stabbing you right in the center where he is laying.

And eventually you do fall asleep under his embrace.

“Anything else, Sir?”

Yoongi goes through the folder of photos his associate has handed to him. He holds up one in particular, studying the couple in front of him. “Find out more about her, the new girl. Get in close, use your charm,” he smirks. He holds the photo under the light of his lamp. Even if the picture is a bit grainy, the discoloration right under the sleeve of her shirt is unmistakable.

Jungkook, positioned at his right side, leans over. “So this is him?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi hums, grin widening.

If Jungkook had any protests or questions, he didn’t speak them. It wouldn’t have changed the loan shark’s mind anyways. When blood is in the water, a shark can only think of one thing.

He flips through more photos, choosing ones in a different folder already on his desk. Very old photos, photos of a younger brighter face version of yourself. These photos you kept in an album tucked away in the back of your closet, in a box with your old wedding ring and other memories you weren’t able to part with, hoping someday you will be able to flip through the pages again with new working eyes. Then you could decide what memories deserve to be revisited and what memories deserve to be burned.

You must have liked swimming, there’s many photos of yourself at the beach with friends. Bowling and roller blading, activities you enjoyed in the past, told a story of the person you were before you lost your vision. Yoongi stares at the candid shots of you, staring at your eyes.

Other than the obvious, Yoongi notes there is something vastly different about you now.

Yoongi likes you better now.

The younger version of you stares at him with light behind her eyes. You still have that, the light is just burning, glowing in you like embers.

As a kid, Yoongi liked to poke at fires, stir the embers with a stick and watch the flames dance. When the fire would roar and crackle and burst bigger as a gust of wind blew the flames, and others would instinctively step back, Yoongi would instinctively step closer, mesmerized.

He would feel that similar pull, that instinctive desire to be closer when that fire inside you would blaze and try to scorch him.

There are moments when you burn so bright, held tight in his arms. It was so hot, it was addicting feeling you. It was becoming something he needed, after a long day of dealing with frustratingly stupid people, dull and boring people, people like a Park Jimin, sheltered and coddled, weak fires that, in Yoongi’s opinion, deserved to be snuffed out.

Not like you. You were an inferno.

After months with him you were becoming fevered as well, ignited by his stroking of you, his fingers around you and inside you. You would burn for him so prettily when he filled your heat and tightened his grip on you.

There are moments when you let your instincts take over, when your pleasure is mounting, and he is angling his hips into you steadily and stroking your heat so perfectly, building you up to the point where you don’t think and don’t feel exactly how you wish, when you dig your nails into his arms, wrap your legs tight around his hips, when you don’t resist his heated kisses, when you kiss him back….

Those nights, he can taste you fully, sweet and soft and so hot.

Like fire, it’s dangerous kissing you.

Yoongi is becoming obsessed.

He picks up his ledger, going back to business, the photos of you still scattered across his desk. Jungkook tries to keep his eyes from wandering, but he is a curious man.

“Should I get y/n for you?” Jungkook suddenly asks. He wants a reason, he wants an excuse…

“No,” Yoongi mutters, “let her rest.”

Now when Yoongi leaves you alone, he doesn’t lock you in his room, he is becoming lax with you finally. Perhaps he thinks you have really given up, that his methods have finally chained you mentally enough that he no longer needed real chains.

His mistake. The loan shark rarely makes them, but in your case, he’s had some…misjudgements.

Once you leave Yoongi’s room, if you turn to your right and follow the wall, you’ll eventually end up at the stairs. You pass by four doors before then, one you believe was the room you used to have, and another you think might be Jungkook’s room, as the young gangster is always in this house somewhere, like he must live with the loan shark. You’ve tried to jiggle the handles a few times on your trek to see if a door might open, but the rooms on the second floor are usually locked.

Downstairs is more complicated, you’ve tried to make sense of it, but there is always someone to stop you before you can explore too much. You know exactly where the kitchen is, because it is the one place it seems you’re not allowed to be under any circumstances. Anytime you would get close to the area, someone would offer to get you food instead, or lead you to a bar stool to wait.

The sounds of cooking are far from where they sit you, too far for you to run and try to open a drawer and search for a knife without getting caught. And the thought will only rarely cross your mind now, you would much rather have some good food.

Tonight however, you had overheard Yoongi was going to be out until tomorrow evening, so you try again to search for an escape.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Jungkook scrolls through his phone, his one leg propped up on the small side table he is leaning on. He looks up as he hears a faint click coming from down the hall.

He sees a hand reach out cautiously before you reveal yourself, pressing yourself against the wall before moving slowly closer.

You reach the next door and grip the handle. It doesn’t budge and you sigh, moving along.

‘All locked,’ you think disappointedly before spinning around. “Who’s there? I know someone is there!” You whisper. After a long silence you slump against the wall. “Am I hearing things now?” you mutter to yourself. You wait at the top of the staircase trying to hear for voices or movement, any indication someone might be awake like you.

Well, no stopping now. You move back and forth down the stairs strategically missing all the creaky steps you’ve hit on previous occasions.

Jungkook follows your pattern, only two steps behind.

Okay, now you are definitely feeling spooked. A shiver runs down your spine. Is it because it’s night time? Is this house haunted? Just how many people have been killed here?

You hesitate half way down. You still can’t hear anything downstairs, so you take your chances. You’ll explore as much as you can, learn as much as you can, and then, figure out an escape plan!

Even if you could go for a late night snack, you avoid the kitchen. Learning what else might be downstairs is more important. This house is massive, there’s an echoing to voices sometimes. Yoongi must not have it very furnished. Despite his greedy nature, Yoongi never seemed to be too extravagant with such things.

If you go to the left, you’ll reach the kitchen. If you go forward, you’ll find a sectional where Yoongi’s underlings will be lounging about during the day. You’ve never ever heard a television, instead you’ll hear the familiar slaps of playing cards, another game you could no longer play without a special set you were too prideful to ask for.

You couldn’t risk going forward and to the front door. You’re sure a man like Yoongi had a security system. But maybe, maybe if you could find a window… So you move toward the only direction you have yet to explore.

What’s this? It’s sleek, it’s too big to be a window. Is it a door to the backyard?

You feel the rush of excitement and fear pump through your veins as you find the handle, but you have to be cautious, doors could set off the security system he might or might not have. It frustrates you how many things you have to speculate about, how many things you don’t know.

For all you know there are probably cameras watching you at this very moment! Yet, no one has tried to stop you. Should you just risk it and try to run before he sends someone to collect you?

No, you decide to keep searching.

You finally find an open door. You step inside and follow the walls around, a window! It’s covered by a drape. You bend down, running your hands over the window sill. Finally.

You stand up and keep moving, curious what else you can find before you attempt to open it. You move towards the room’s center.

It’s a table, but you don’t see it for what it is, your legs hit the edge and it reminds you of Yoongi’s desk in his office and you panic, thinking of how much trouble you will be in if he found you there, and you stumble backward.

You stumble backward into a warm body.

Hands wrap around you, cover your mouth before you can scream, and pin down your arms.

You breathe heavily into his palm, frozen in fright.

“Shhh.”

You swallow down tears, catching your cries in your throat. He holds you so tight around the waist it stings. You can’t move or scream, so you wait, expecting the worst. The worst is what always happens.

“I’m going to let go now. Don’t scream.”

Jungkook?!

“Hey!” Jungkook lets you go and you shove him away.

In your panic, you’ve decided to just fuck it, and run to escape.

You stumble, shoulders hitting the door frame, falling when your foot hits what you think is a chair leg. You scrape your palm bracing yourself when you hit the floor. You can hear Jungkook right behind you. He’s going to bend down and grab at you, you are already expecting it, so you kick your leg out.

He grunts in pain so you know you’ve gotten a good kick in and you scramble to your feet, knocking into walls and furniture, searching for the glass door you felt before.

You click the lock down and yank the door open, security system be damned!

You start to run. The soles of your feet hit jagged concrete, and then…air?!

Nope, that’s a pool, you realize as you fall into water. Dammit.

You swim to the surface and hear another loud splash as you wade in water.

Did he just jump in?!

That was dumb of him. You swim hastily, a second surge of energy rushing through you, you search for the pool’s edge. Your tiny dress still feels like it weighs a ton when you heave yourself over the edge, knees scraping as you crawl out.

You can hear him already mimicking your actions as he pulls himself out of the water quicker than you thought possible. You crawl quickly away from the noise, using every bit of the energy left inside you, you dig your heels and palms into the earth.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s entire weight is on top of you, stopping your crawl to freedom.

Jungkook grabs your wrists as you claw at dirt. “Stop!” he grunts, yelling, “There’s a ledge here, you’re going to fall off of it and die!” He moves one of your arms out above your head, letting you feel the steep slant of earth downward.

In that moment, you don’t care. This is the closest you’ve gotten to freedom in so long! It’s been so long since you’ve felt grass and dirt and earth. You used to go hiking with Namjoon all the time, you used to breathe in the cool fresh morning air almost every weekend with him.

Your heart aches when you remember the way he would lead you over steep rocks, his fingers interlaced with yours, the way he would explain the scenery and overlooks and sunsets and sunrises to you so animatedly, you could hear the reverence of what he could see in his voice. You cry with your head buried in the tall grass thinking of Namjoon and the freedom you had. In that moment, you would rather throw yourself off a cliff.

“Don’t take me in, please. Just let me stay outside a bit longer,” you hiccup.

Jungkook rests over you until you both calm down, until he finally rolls off of you, sighing, looking at the night sky. “You know…” he pauses. “If you want to go outside, you can just ask-”

“I don’t want to–” you grit out angrily. “I don’t want to ask for permission like a child. I don’t want to be let outside like a dog! I don’t want– I can’t– Jungkook,” your bottom lip trembles as you suck in air. You let the grass blades tickle your face as you hold yourself together, “I feel like I’m not myself anymore. I-” you can’t continue, you won’t dare admit to him what sick feelings that have grabbed a hold of you.

His cold wet hand touches your cheek, why does it warm you up so suddenly?

“Where have you been?!” you cry, fist hitting what you assume is his chest. Yoongi, that bastard was right, Jungkook was the closest thing you had to a friend here. You didn’t want to believe he was just as cruel as Yoongi, you didn’t want to believe it!

“It’s safer for you if you stay away from me,” he says softly. Or bluntly. How could you ever really know if you can’t see the longing look he gives you?

You stay quiet, holding in your objections. You aren’t going to argue with him, you were a fool to care at all about someone who didn’t care at all about you; a criminal; one of your captors. Your eyes sting as Yoongi’s words replayed in your mind, Jungkook saw you as a job, he was being nice because Yoongi told him to, he didn’t want to be around you.

You shiver, hugging yourself. You pull at the tall blades of grass, thinking of Namjoon instead, letting yourself be carried far away from here. Your body couldn’t escape, but your mind could. You hum to yourself.

It was a tune Namjoon played over and over for you, a song of his that didn’t make the cut, it was too soft and sweet, didn’t fit with his persona, yet it was your favorite.

Jungkook sits in his wet clothes uncomfortably, watching you, listening to your sad soft humming as the night starts brightening, and he has no choice but to act. He lifts your defeated body into his arms. “We’re not going to tell anyone about this.”

“About what?” you grumble, shivering in the cold.

Jungkook sets you in the bathtub, in your clothes, the wet fabric of your dress clinging to you and leaving nothing to the imagination. You can hear the knobs squeak as he turns on the warm water. You reach out and grab his soaking jacket, gripping it tight.

“What are you doing, y/n?”

“You’re cold too.” Jungkook pulls away but you hold on tighter.

“I can’t be in here with you.”

“If you leave now, I swear I will drown myself.” You know you shouldn’t force him to be here with you, but you were desperate, lonely, you didn’t care how uncomfortable you were making him if it meant you felt a little less insane.

Suddenly Jungkook moves closer to you, entering the large bath. He grips your knee, bending your leg.

“W-What are you doing?!” A flood of emotions rush through you, so many at once you don’t know what you’re feeling when he begins to touch you.

“You’re bruised everywhere,” he mutters, gripping your elbow and turning your arm. “I’m going to have to tell him you tried to escape.”

He sounds frustrated. You accept your fate but it doesn’t make it any easier, knowing Yoongi will lock you up once again, no doubt find some creative way to torture you for trying to leave.

The bathtub steadily fills with water, and the uncomfortable weight on you lessens as the water surrounds your bodies.

You haven’t let go of him, but you move your grip slightly, feeling for buttons, and once you find them, you start to unbutton his shirt.

If someone were to ask you why you did it, you wouldn’t have been able to articulate a reason, your fingers were working of their own accord, listening to something inside you you couldn’t even hear yourself.

Jungkook hasn’t moved, he holds himself up, gripping the tub’s edges with both hands until you reach the end and push away the fabric. By now the water has filled the tub enough that you float against him. You push both his shirt and jacket off his shoulders.

You place your palm on his chest, you can’t feel the tattoos etched across his skin, you weren’t aware of the extent of his ink markings, but you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercing and you let out a small gasp in surprise.

Jungkook hasn’t moved, so you let your hand travel down his torso, fingers running along the contours of his muscles, until you reach his belt, his pants, your palm laying along his zipper.

Jungkook is stiffening under your palm and you gasp louder.

Jungkook finally moves, pulling your wrist away. He holds it tight against the cool ceramic of the tub. “Don’t…don’t make me hurt you.”

You were so used to pain, his warning didn’t deter you how he expected. You wanted him to hurt you. You wanted someone, anyone else, other than Yoongi to think about.

Even when he tightened his grip until you could feel the pain sting into your bones, you didn’t flinch, you didn’t tell him to stop. You let out a silent gasp this time, arching your back against him, and Jungkook saw you were more dangerous than he had believed.

If you could have seen him you could have ruined him.

You gently run your other hand down his body, let your legs wrap around him, listening to his breathing grow louder.

He stands up suddenly. “Wash the chlorine out of your hair, don’t tell Mr. Min anything.”

You pause, “Tell him what?”

Dangerous. Jungkook clears his mind of you, focusing on cleaning the house of da what happened.

When later that day, Yoongi teased you about falling down the stairs, you knew Jungkook did what you had been waiting for, for so long…

…He lied for you.

“What’s this?”

You hold the sleek piece of technology in your hand.

Is this…a cell phone?

“You’re going to say hello and tell her you’ve taken a job out of the country, and you’re going to make it sound convincing. And if you don’t, if she doesn’t believe you, I’m going to go to her tiny one bedroom Gangnam apartment off of Inchon-ro and I’m going to kill her.” Yoongi says coldly.

You hold your breath. What? Who? What?!

Yoongi crouches down to your level, watching you so close he could see each of your individual eyelashes as you blinked rapidly.

According to Taehyung, for some reason, one of JTJ’s makeup artists, the girl who used to help you with your makeup, has started asking about your whereabouts.

She’s questioning other staff, wondering why you haven’t answered any of her calls or texts, with incessant suspicions upon why you have suddenly disappeared without any warning. She’s causing others to wonder as well.

Even if you had quit on bad terms like what they’ve been telling her, you would have still answered her! It just doesn’t make any sense, she thinks, you were so happy the morning before, making plans with her and the others to have dinner the next day-

She even wanted to get in contact with your family, Taehyung told him worriedly.

“Okay,” you nod.

Her ringtone, JTJ’s first chart topping song plays in your ear as you try to settle your breathing.

“Hello?” she answers. Your heart rate suddenly jumps and the pounding is all you can hear as you recognize her voice.

Yoongi grips your leg, fingers digging, shaking it. “Minah?! Hey, it’s y/n-”

“Y/n!” she gasps, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Girl, what the hell? What happened?! Where did you go?”

Yoongi grips your knee tight. “I’m fine, I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve just been setting up my new place, I-”

“You haven’t answered my calls, not even my texts,” she says, hurt. “They told me you quit? What happened?!”

“Y-Yes. I did, I uhh, I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but I was offered this amazing job-”

“What?! Where? With who?!”

“In J-Japan, it’s a really good job, I get my own office and everything. After that tour, I just really couldn’t do it anymore, it’s just a lot, you know, that lifestyle.” You pray she doesn’t try to get you to answer her other questions.

“What?” she sounds even less convinced, pausing. “Is this your new number?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry for missing all your calls, my cell was from the company, so I had to surrender it. I really wanted to call you sooner, but it’s just been so hectic…” You hope she believes your lies.

“Anytime I bring you up, the boys act…weird. You just d-disappeared, I-I thought something horrible happened-”

“I’m fine! I think they are just upset, it was such a sudden thing-”

“It was!” She sounds mad. “They told me you were sick when you didn’t show up for our celebration dinner, and then when you weren’t on the plane, they told me you just…left?! No one knew why!” She sounds even angrier.

“Yeah. Yeah, I left, I’m really sorry I didn’t say goodbye.” The words catch in your throat and come out stilted and choppy. You have to get it together.

“But why-”

You take a deep breath, terrified for your friend.

“Listen, Minah, that night I got into a big fight with Jimin, and I just thought it was best for me to just leave. I really didn’t mean to worry you, b-but this is a once in a lifetime job,” you swallow, trying to keep your voice light and happy. “I had to take it.”

“Oh, okay.” Your lie seems to answer some of her worries. “Have you talked to Jimin since then? He’s just been so…he doesn’t seem like himself since you left. I think he really misses you.”

“Oh, really? No, I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to him.” Your heart is pounding.

“Yeah, talk to him, please! I think he finally realizes what he lost. Everytime I bring you up…no wonder… I told you, didn’t I! He likes you!” she says, sounding happier. “Japan is not too far away, you should go for it now that you’re not under the same company! He is totally heartbroken over you.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Jimin is like my brother!”

“Yeah yeah,” she laughs, sighing. “You two are both hopeless I guess. I miss you, promise me we’ll meet up next time JTJ has a schedule in Japan.”

“I’m s-so busy, but yeah.” Your hand trembles so badly you’re worried the phone will slip between your fingers at any moment.

“Promise!”

“I, um, promise. I miss you, Minah.”

“I miss you too!”

“I really miss you.”

“You okay? Do you like your job? They haven’t gotten a new translator since you left! You could come back, honestly, I’m sure they would take you! Joon has been translating for everyone and I’m sure he would love you back,” she jokes.

“I love my new job.” God, you hope she can’t hear the shake in your voice. “But I really have to go, I am glad I got to talk to you. I might not be able to talk for a while though, but I’m okay!”

“Yeah?”

“Oh! Can you tell Taehyung something?”

“What?”

Yoongi’s presence is suddenly everywhere as you stutter out your last sentence. “It’s about that Blue Moonlight song he’s been working on with-”

The phone clicks as Yoongi snatches it away, and you feel the coldness of loneliness creep back into your body.

“You better hope she’s as dense as she sounds,” he threatens.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

“You know what? I think we should take a visit to Taehyung then, and listen to that new song of his,” he says, gripping the back of your neck.

You swallow, excitement and fear swirling in the pit of your stomach and rising the bile into your throat.

Yoongi leans against his Rolls Royce smoking a cigarette.

The door opens and someone sits next to you.

“Y/n.”

“T-Tae?!”

You try not to burst into tears. You frantically reach out to him, and his slender fingers wrap around yours, gripping your hand tightly as he scoots next to you. Then you really burst, crying against him.

You quickly try to pull yourself together, whispering, “Did you get my message?”

“Um, yeah. Blue Moonlight, I’m guessing it's more than just a song title?” He whispers.

“Moonlight Blue.” You repeat the phrase in Thai. “Are w-we alone?” you whisper.

Taehyung eyes the shadow against the window as Yoongi lights up another cigarette. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s a club in Thailand. If you take a detective there, in the women’s restroom, inside the second bathroom from the door, my DNA should still be on the door stall, I doubt they cleaned it well. You might be able to get CCTV footage too to show that I’ve been kidnapped, or maybe someone took a picture of it-” you say hastily.

“Of what?”

“My name, I wrote it with my blood,” you say rather proudly.

Taehyung grips your hand tighter. “What? Blood?! He’s made you bleed?!”

You nod hastily. “He’s d-done w-worse,” you stutter, this time you hold in your tears.

Taehyung swallows, resting his head against the car’s seat, feeling sick.

You reach both hands out until you find his shoulder and squeeze. “Taehyung, I have the money saved for my eye surgery in my bank account, I-I’ll give it to you if you help me. Please, please.”

He takes your hand in his again. “I’m not taking your money, y/n.”

“You won’t help me?” you cry desperately.

He grips your other hand tight, holding them close to his chest. “I’ll talk to Joon and Jimin, we’ll figure something out. Our last album just hit platinum, we have stocks in the company now. We’ll find a way to help you.”

“We’re leaving for Japan right now. Right now, Taehyung. Please hurry.” You can’t tell whether it’s you trembling now or the scared singer. Taehyung brings your hands to his mouth and kisses your knuckles and you do the same, welcoming his comforting affection.

Yoongi watches as you and the singer cling to each other. He rolls his eyes and flicks his cigarette to the ground, stomping out his frustrations into the tarmac pavement.

“Well?” he asks once Taehyung steps out and shuts the car’s door.

“Midnight Blue.” He says the name in accented Thai. “The club you took her to in Thailand, Blue Midnight.” Taehyung gulps.

“Ahh fuck, you’re right. But why-”

“She thinks if I can get CCTV footage, we can use it in a case against you.”

“Huh really? Most of them don’t even work in that area, but I can have my men check.” Yoongi runs his hand through his hair. “Anything else?” Taehyung shakes his head, unable to look the loan shark in the face.

“You two were talking for a long time, what else?” He grabs the singer by the collar to make a point, shoving him against the door. You flinch inside.

“She told me you cut her, made her bleed there in Thailand, is that what you did?!” Taehyung pushes against the loan shark, shoving him away.

Yoongi cocks his head to the side, looking confused. “Eh?” He rubs the back of his neck, trying to remember, “Oh, it was one of my men. I took care of it.”

“Are y-you hurting her?”

“Why do you suddenly care?” Yoongi crosses his arms, “Are you gonna stop me if I am?” he asks, challenging the singer.

“She’s done nothing wrong, It’s not her damn fault, it’s Jimin’s, if you had just killed him instead-”

“You would have liked that, huh?” he tuts, “Wanted to go solo that bad, now you’re stuck with those two idiots and your album is on hold,” he rolls his eyes. “If you’re not making money, you’re gonna be in the same boat as Jimin, and you don’t have anyone to save your ass-”

“Just let her go then!” he hisses, trying to keep his voice down so you don’t hear. “Make Jimin pay you whatever he owes you!”

“So she can go to the police?” Yoongi crosses his arms, snorting.

“Min, I-I don’t understand. What are you going to do, keep her forever?!”

“Maybe,” Yoongi says dismissively. “Why?”

“Are you s-serious?!” he stutters.

“It was the deal-”

“S-She didn’t understand-”

“She’s a grown woman, she made her choice.”

Taehyung looks at the loan shark with disbelieving eyes. “Please, Y-Yoongi-”

Yoongi grabs the singer again, done with arguing, “Want to take on Jimin’s debt on top of what you still owe me instead, yeah? Go get her, take her.” He’s met with silence. “Then shut the fuck up.” He signals for his men, who have been waiting to board. “Send me Joon’s schedule, I’ll deal with him when we get back to Korea.”

“Okay,” Taehyung mutters defeatedly. He places his hand on the car’s window. You don’t notice him of course. He says his goodbyes silently, to himself to ease his mind, like a coward.

Yoongi didn’t need to keep a low profile in Tokyo, the city was too big, so many tourists and locals crammed together, he and his associates became just another mean face in the crowd. He bought out a few penthouses in an expensive hotel for the week, with a kitchen and a private hot spring and all the amenities you could ever want.

It was your lavish prison cell.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asks, setting plastic bags of Japanese convenience store food on the counter. Jungkook shakes his head, sending him a look that reads, ‘Please just shut the fuck up about it.’

Jon clears his throat, he looks around, turning on a lamp, fiddling with the shade until he’s happy with the amount of light before leaving you and Jungkook in Yoongi’s private penthouse.

Before he leaves, Jon steps in front of you, studying you with the same scrutiny as he did the new area. He lifts your head up, a crooked finger under your chin. Your eyes are bloodshot, your lids swollen from crying. “Hey, don’t give up.”

Easy for him to say, that man acts like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You bite your lip, making sure to keep your head up no matter how heavy you feel. “Give me a reason not to give up,” you grumble softly.

Jon stays silent. He steps away from you and nods towards the younger man.

Jungkook sings in his head to drown out your crying as he unwraps the food for you.

You hear the clanging of a glass plate set in front of you.

You raise your hand, hovering over it. Jungkook puts his hand over yours. This is the most he’s interacted with you since your last altercation.

You can’t take it. You can’t take this anymore. You can’t!

“What are you doing, y/n?!” Jungkook grips your other hand quickly, before you can do any more damage. The plate lays shattered under your fist.

“J-Just let me have this, so I can hurt him.”

He yanks the glass plate shard out of your hand.

“Listen to me,” he whispers. “You’re not going to hurt him. Because you can’t hurt him. You’re lucky Jon wasn’t still here, or anyone else for that matter-”

“I’m not with anyone else. I’m with you.”

After a long silence Jungkook finally lets go of your hand, wiping the mess off the counter and into the trash and pulling more food out for you now that you’ve shattered your plate to pieces. “You're testing my patience. Yoongi is mad at me because of you. If you try anything else, I will hurt you again.”

“Hurt me, then. Kill me. Do it.” You reach out, searching for his arms and clumsily put them to your neck. “Kill me, please! I’m not going to fucking do it anymore!”

Jungkook watches you cry. Despite everything you continue to rebel. No matter how small. You refuse to let Yoongi change you.

It stirs something inside him. A question he’s never spoken aloud.

You notice his sharp intake of breath so close to your temple. Is he smelling you?

“J-Jungkook?”

“I will only kill you if Min asks me to.” Soft, chapped lips brush against yours so quickly you question if you imagined it. “Listen to Jon, you’ve made it this far, don’t give up.”

“No.” You tremble, “You’re going to help me get out one way or another, Jungkook.”

You feel him move away and reach for him again in desperation. His fingers are back around your throat, shoving you into hotel kitchen cabinets and lifting you off your feet in his anger.

You struggle, unable to breathe. You let your hands follow down his arms until you reach his face. And instead of what Jungkook thought you were going to do, what he would have done: tried to retaliate, fight against him, you hold his cheeks in your palms, thumb running soft lines across his face and over the scars you remembered.

Jungkook lets you drop, shuddering. You cough, inhaling air quickly.

Jungkook is a trained killer. His hands don’t shake, yet…

He looks down at you, silently crying on the floor.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Eat.” He mutters.

“I’ll only eat if you stop ignoring me,” you choke out, glaring in his general direction.

It makes him smile. “Okay, okay.”

You end up eating on the floor with the young gangster in silence, who has his body pressed up against your side. He hands you bites you take reluctantly. Jungkook pulls out his cell, opening a video he took, and you listen to soft cheering as the second half of last week's soccer match plays on his device. You quietly cry and nibble on food until you get caught up in the match, gasping along with the crowd over the very last play.

“You did well today,” Yoongi says, undoing his tie.

You pull off your heels, frowning. “I’ve been with you for months now, so I want to know exactly how much left I owe-”

“Owe?”

“Yes, the amount. Of Jimin’s debt, I want to know exactly how much I have left! You’ve made hundreds of thousands of won on deals I helped facilitate, haven’t you? That counts for something, doesn’t it?!”

Yoongi wasn’t prepared for your outburst, but he knew it would happen sooner or later. And it didn’t stop him from becoming furious with you. “Any other demands you want to make, want a pension plan?” He goads.

You bite back your retorts and take a deep breath. “I want to know exactly how much longer I have to suffer here with a monster like you.”

“Suffer? You ate Wagyu steak today, the jacket you’re wearing is Givenchy.” His finger pokes into your shoulder so hard you almost lose your balance. “Which, by the way, will be deducted off your earnings, of course-”

“What?!”

“That’s right,” he says lowly.

“I didn’t ask for this!” You yank off your jacket and throw it on the ground at his feet.

He’s in your space again, his body walking into yours with no intention of letting you move away from him. You would have fallen over if he hadn’t grabbed the front of your shirt. “Going to give me back this shirt too?!” Yoongi rips the buttons off as he yanks the front open.

You yell and grab at the pieces and hold them over your chest. “Haven’t you learned anything?” he screams in your face. Yoongi holds your head in his hands. You close your eyes out of instinct as tears well up in the corners, breathing through your mouth so you don’t have to smell his cologne, clenching your jaw to keep yourself silent. “You wanted this. Remember that? When you begged Jimin to let me have you? You’re mine, y/n.”

“I’ll never be yours,” you grit out.

“You’re already mine. And I can do whatever I want with you,” Yoongi rasps out with just as much vitriol.

And then he does what you hate most, he presses his lips against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling your head away, his lips pressed to yours tightly, so you’re forced to inhale him, so you can’t help but gasp in air and open your mouth for him.

You reach for his neck, you try to choke him, fisting his hair and pulling, but it only seems to rile Yoongi up even more as his tongue invades your mouth.

He finally lets you breathe, pulling your hands away from his throat and securing them behind your back, mouth moving to your jaw and down your neck as he holds you tight. “Mine,” he nips your neck.

It snaps something inside you, you caught yourself before you slipped away completely, and you snapped back, fighting against him. “Get off me!”

You squirm your way out of his hold and push him away and to your surprise, he doesn’t push you back. He is no longer in your space.

You wipe your mouth and straighten your clothes, unsuccessfully trying to put your shirt back together.

Yoongi stays quiet. You know he’s there, somewhere, watching you, but he’s so quiet! Where the hell is he?

Yoongi watches as you frown and hesitantly reach your hand out in front of you.

You flinch when Yoongi hand smacks your hand down, and swing your fist out in anger, hitting air.

Yoongi laughs tauntingly to your right.

“I’m not yours,” you finally mutter out. Your head is pulled back as Yoongi yanks you by the hair and then shoves you forward. You cry out in pain, knee hitting the corner of something hard.

Yoongi stays quiet instead of arguing back, he is trying to drive you crazy and it’s working, it’s maddening, you bite back tears as you breathe in sharply.

You stumble, moving around furniture and bumping into a wall. You frantically search for something to grab.

You throw your hand behind you on a hunch that the loan shark was leering behind you, and he catches it easily, pulling you off balance again.

You scream out in anger, “You think because you force yourself on me, I’m yours? I can’t stand you, I hate you! When you touch me, I think of someone, anyone, else! You think because I’m blind, I can’t see how hideous you are? How miserable-” you choke on your words as he grabs you by the neck and his grip tightens on your throat.

He shakes you, moves you around so quickly you stumble backward, terrified he is going to make you collide into something, you have to grip him back to you from falling.

You struggle against his advances until he’s over you, pinning you into couch cushions. “You disgust me.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi doesn’t believe you. You are trying to anger him, you’re trying to hurt him. He’s played this game before, he knows this game. “But if I was Jimin, or Taehyung, or Namjoon, you wouldn’t be disgusted, that right?” He yells in your face. Why does he always have to bring them up?!

He moves his leg in between yours, pressing his knee against you harshly. “You would happily spread your legs, give them whatever they want because they’re famous-”

You push as hard as you can against his shoulders, yelling, “What?! They would never take advantage of me! They saved me,” you grunt. “You have no idea-”

“I have no idea?” he laughs at you. “I grew up with Taehyung in Daegu, did he forget to mention that to you during your little reunion? I know them. I know Jimin is back to getting high again, he tried to clean up his act for a hot second, but like always, he cares more about his own self gratification than anything else. What do you think will happen after he burns through all his money?”

Yoongi runs his thumb across your dry lips. “Do you think he’ll come back groveling to me, or do you think he’ll try to convince someone else to fund his addiction? Do you think if I offered him all the drugs his heart desires he wouldn’t hurt you for it? You’re so sure he won’t, are you?”

You have your eyes closed again and he doesn’t like that. Even if you can’t see him, he likes watching your deep irises. Even if you can’t see, your eyes still redden with tears and your expression darkens for him, blazes for him. “And Kim Namjoon, is he the one you think about? When he could care less about you? He’s no knight in shining armor coming to rescue you, and you’re sure no damn princess!”

Yoongi snakes his hand between your bodies and inside your pants, letting out a deep breath when you struggle and he realizes why. “If this isn’t mine, then why does it get so wet for me? Fuck…you’re so wet…”

You feel the last threads of your sanity breaking, and you want to hurt him the only way you can now, you can’t stop yourself, “No, I don’t think about Namjoon, I think about Jungkook,” he hiss.

You try to claw at his face, which stops his advances momentarily. Yoongi pulls his hand out of your pants and holds your wrists down until you stop struggling, and then he yells, “Jeon!”

You hear the door open as someone walks in.

“…S-Sir?”

“Come here and hold Miss y/l/n’s hands down.”

It’s deathly quiet until you hear movement again as Jungkook crosses the room. Yoongi’s grip lessens for only a moment until it’s replaced, your hands pressed above your head. You start to cry.

The pressure of Yoongi’s knee is gone as he moves down your body.

Your belt is unbuckled.

Your zipper is pulled down.

His hands reach around your hips and you kick out, attempting to hurt him when he pulls your pants and panties off your legs.

“Stop, stop this!” You’re begging Jungkook, but his grip on you doesn’t lessen. Jungkook’s fingers might as well have been shackles as you try to pull free.

“Who are you thinking about now, y/n?” Yoongi slips his fingers easily into your heat.

You clench your teeth so hard your molars feel like they might crack under the pressure. “You’re pathetic, you know that?!” You let yourself be overcome with anger, a much more agreeable feeling than the hopelessness you felt. “You must be really hideous if you can’t find anyone else to fuck! Is that why you went into this business, huh? Couldn’t get any decent woman so you surround yourself with strippers and prostitutes, and they won’t even fuck you?!” You scream out in frustration as his steady pace quickens inside you unrelentingly.

Yoongi chuckles at your outburst, his body weight pressing on your legs. “Ahh now we both know that’s not true.” He says cockily. You chose to ignore the way the girls at Yoongi’s establishments would address him, the flirtatious tone in their voices when the courageous one would ask him if he needed anything, offering their “services” up to him.

“Then why me?!”

“Because I want you.”

Yoongi drags his two fingers out of you, and presses three fingers inside when he enters you again, his thumb rubbing across your clit.

Your heart beats so fiercely in your chest you think you might suffer a heart attack, you hope you do when you feel the heat inside you rise, unable to stop your whimpers no matter how hard you clench your jaw.

Yoongi knows your body now, he knows the pressure that makes you shake, the movement you can’t resist. He rocks his hand into you steadily and precisely as you try not to tremble, as you try to think of anything other than what he was doing to you so you aren’t overcome.

But it only takes a few more minutes before you are overcome, unable to stop your body arching and muscles locking, and your breath stuttering and a moan escaping.

The hands around your wrists disappear and in the next few moments you hear the door slam shut.

“Jun-” Yoongi’s hand presses over your mouth.

Yoongi doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to say, something that would surely make his blood pressure sky rocket. Yoongi looks at the closed door. He has a choice to make. Should he go after Jungkook? No, he will let the young gangster cool down.

That’s not the only choice he has to make. He looks down at you. You look exactly how he feels, a fierce mixture of fury and puzzlement and anguish twisting at your brows and behind your unfocused glare.

He removes his hand from your mouth, gripping at your neck instead to hold you still.

Rather than letting your emotions take over you again you try to think this through. He is still over you, body in between your legs, fully clothed despite your almost nakedness. You had a choice to make.

“You upset him.” You’re met with silence. “Do you think you can treat people like this forever and they will just take it?” His hand tightens around your throat as he pushes your head back. You yell in pain, but keep trying. “Go ahead, you’ll end up all alone just like you deserve,” you gasp.

“Like you?”

His words feel like a cold shower. When you freeze, Yoongi takes the opportunity to switch the subject of conversation. He brushes his lips across your jaw, finally calming down, “Want to know what you owe me now? Nothing. And nothing you could do or say would ever make me let you go,” he says gently, licking across your neck.

He moves his other hand back down your body, achingly slow, pushing the broken pieces of your shirt away from your chest and tugging at the uncovered flesh. Why does he have to do this to you? Why? You hate how his touches twists your emotions and you hate how he knows it too. “Like I said, y/n, you’re mine now,” he says huskily. His mouth captures your nipple as he sucks and licks across your chest.

You feel rooted against him, unable to move as you process his words. You can’t fully however, his touches making it impossible to concentrate on anything but his harsh sucking and fondling.

“Wait-”

“No.”

You let your muscles relax and stop fighting against him, why should you? It never works, it never ever works.

You rest your palm on the window, the glass is hotter than the surrounding air, and you move closer until your nose touches the glass, soaking in the warmth of the sun outside.

Yoongi’s voice is behind you, still in bed. “Come here, you’re giving everyone a free show.” You must have woken him up when you left the bed.

You rest your forehead on the glass. “I want to go outside today, take me to a cafe.” You don’t ask him, you tell him.

Yoongi studies your naked figure framed by the just risen sun.

He clears his throat, “I’ll have Jeon take you later-”

“I don’t want to go with him, I want to go with you.”

Yoongi pauses. “Why? He was just following orders.”

Facing the sun, the brightness allows you to see the most light possible. You don’t know if it's your imagination at this point, but you like to believe it really is orange and yellow you’re seeing in the otherwise blurry darkness.

“I want to go with you,” you say.

“I’ll see…I’ll find some time.” Perhaps it’s the tiredness still in his voice, but his tone seems to soften.

“Okay.”

“Come here.”

You close your eyes, let the darkness settle in, focus on the heat at your fingertips.

You spent the night dissecting what Yoongi had said to you and everything that’s happened to you since finding yourself in the loan shark's service. You had been too distracted, too focused on your own desires of freedom to notice Yoongi’s desires.

You didn’t want to believe it either, that he might have become more than just fond of you. It didn’t make sense, but now that you were really picking apart his actions, it was there, twisted and dark, his own particular kind of affection...for you.

You should have realized this sooner, but you didn’t even want to accept your own twisted emotions. If you had, you would have also figured that it would make sense he was going down the same dark path.

You asked yourself all night, now what should you do?

You have decided now, turning to him and letting your body relax.

You were going to use it against him.

---

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Tell me what you liked, and what you hated (is it Yoongi? lol)

#yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere yoongi #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts mafia au #bts au

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delusional-dinosaurr · 9 months

Text

We're Moving Too Fast...Aren't We? (Guro Reiten x Reader)

You're enjoying a night out, on a rooftop bar with a few other WSL clubs, and your own team, Arsenal. It was WSL tradition to throw a big party in London for the end of season, usually this is only the major clubs as the others struggle to get to grips with near relegation. Today's team attendees were yourselves at Arsenal, Chelsea, Spurs, The Manchesters and Villa.

"Come ooooon Y/N it's time to dance" Your mate Victoria Pelova slurs at you. You approach her and steady her with your arms.

"Think that's enough to drink now Vic, don't want you vomiting over the carpet in our house" You smile, helping her find a chair and some water, Viv takes over on 'motherly duties' so you can walk away and be with the others.

"Going on the pull tonight Y/N?" Alex Scott nudges your side. She always gets an invite alongside many other retired players, a lot are still very close friends with the teams they played for.

"Nah, you know that's not my thing anymore" You wink at her.

"Y/N I've seen you kissing multiple girls on the same night, why not here!" Leah nudges you.

"I don't like to mix business with pleasure" you joke, asking the bartender for another glass. “For the record, that was a joke. I’m not like that anymore, I’ve matured from the partygirl I was when I was 19! Magda helped a lot with that”.

"Well at least flirt around a bit, it's always fun to watch how quickly you work your magic" Leah says, convincingly.

"If you need tips on how to pull you could've just asked Lee" You tease. "but fine, I'll do it, what harm can it do".

"Okay challenge for tonight, a Chelsea girl" Alex wiggles her eyebrows at you, both you and Leah visibly shudder at the word 'Chelsea'.

"For one night fine, but mark my words, you'll never find me dating or sleeping with a Chelsea girl" You shake your head walking over to the dancefloor drink in hand.

You dance with a few of your friends, one of those being Magda, even if she is still Chelsea through and through she was like a mother figure to you during your loan spell at Linköpings when you were much younger. She sees you glancing around and stops you with her hand on your chest, letting out what seemed to be a sigh.

"Y/N... Really? I thought you grew out of this during your year in Sweden with me" She smacks your shoulder.

"It's for Leah's entertainment,and for a bet… and it's a Chelsea girl" You shudder again, making Magda laugh and nudge you.

"Well here's some advice. They don't like the gunners and wouldn't want to flirt with one, but I've heard Guro, Niamh and Jessie all say something somewhat nice about you" She sighs, gesturing over to the girls.

"It's only some flirting to show Leah I'm better at flirting than her" You offer a small smile "Promise I won't be sleeping around or trying to get with one of them" she holds out her pinky, which you interlock yours with hers.

You dance over to the Chelsea girls and greet them somewhat politely, getting hugs from all three.

"You guys had an insane season, congratulations" You hold your drink up to them, which they do in response as you all sip your drinks.

"So what brings you over here?" Jessie elbows you.

"My girls are boring or waaaaay too drunk to be dancing with me" you chuckle, sliding up a bit closer to the group.

“Reckon you’ll ever play for us Y/N?” Niamh smirks at you cheekily.

“Absolutely not, you won't catch me dead in a Chelsea shirt” You grimace, causing the three girls to laugh at your response. “Now what about you guys wearing a Y/L/N shirt to an Arsenal match one day in support of the better team?”.

“Not a chance” Guro says, rolling her eyes.

“I bet I can get you wearing an Arsenal shirt to one of my matches by the end of this year, in support of me” You smirk at Guro. Jessie and Niamh seem to be deep in another conversation with Magda and Pernille to the side, leaving you to work your magic like you told your friends you would do.

“It’s so on, if you fail, you can wear a Reiten shirt at one of our matches, I’ll get you front row seats so you can admire the view” She winks holding out her hand which you shake, sealing your bet.

“Oh believe me I am enjoying the view already” You look at her eyes and give her a soft smile.

“Wait a second…are you doing what I think you’re doing?” She questions.

“Depends on if you like it or not” You mumble, suddenly feeling slightly nervous. This was unlike your usual behaviour when it came to flirting. As you’re feeling the nerves you look into her eyes and feel yourself melt slightly at the soft look she’s giving you.

“And what if I do like it?” She says in a more suggestive tone “Is this the great Y/N getting nervous? Never thought I’d see the day”. “If you do like it, then I’d suggest we take this to the dance floor” You nod over to the dancefloor where many of your friends are dancing together. “Oh and I don’t get nervous, even if it’s a beautiful woman like you”. You whisper in her ear and see a very faint blush on her face. You smile to yourself as you both walk to the dancefloor hand in hand.

You dance together for a while, still engaging in conversation with each other. As the night goes on the drinks continue flowing and you feel yourself getting more and more confident, making somewhat bolder moves and both getting drunker.

━━━━━

“åh herregud!” You hear as your eyes shoot open. “What the hell, why are you here?”.

You look around and have absolutely no idea where you are, apart from the fact Guro Reiten is sat up next to you in a bed that you’re both sharing.

“It’s okay, we’re fine” You calm her down. “Now, how the hell did we get here? Where are we?”

“My apartment, and I have no idea how we got here together” She sighs, you admire her morning hair, messily laying on her shoulders. The light coming in through the blinds of her room makes her eyes glisten and skin glow. Wait what?

“Okay question one, do you live here alone?” You ask her, she shakes her head. “Oh my god you have a girlfriend? Shit I’m so sorry, fuck, I should go” You panic and start standing up to get ready to leave. “No you idiot, I share a house with Erin and Niamh” She drags you back down. “My question for you is, what do you think we did last night?”.

“Well from the fact we are both still pretty much in last night's clothes, not a lot” You chuckle, walking over to her mirror “Although I don’t remember me having these yesterday” you narrow your eyes at her in the reflection in the mirror whilst pointing at the trail of hickeys on your neck, causing her to blush.

“It could’ve been anyone!” She says with her eyes wide.

“Considering I woke up in your bed, I’m very sure on who it was” You roll your eyes. You sit in silence for a few seconds, both getting your bearings on what happened, how and what you’re gonna do to get away with it.

“Do you actually remember much from last night?” She asks you, leaning back against the mattress, you follow her lead and lay next to her. Her shirt has risen slightly from her flopping onto the bed and you can’t help but admire her body. “Eyes up here Y/LN” she smirks as you quickly snap your eyes back up to hers.

“I remember enough to have a good understanding of why I’m here. For the record, Leah and Alex dared me to pull a Chelsea player but as soon as we started talking that all went out the window” You break eye contact, your nerves get the better of you until you feel a hand gently moving your chin to force you back into eye contact with her.

“I guessed that after you snuck your way over to our table, they were watching you the whole time. I also really enjoyed time with you Y/N, I can make myself nice and free today if you want to re-do last night… but with less alcohol please” She says holding her stomach, you nod back enthusiastically.

“I can run home and grab my car? I can drive us somewhere if you like, as it seems we only live around the corner from each other!” You say excitedly. “That and I need to try to sneak in without waking up Vic and Gio, that’s going to be a nightmare”.

“Meet me outside in an hour? That gives me time to freshen up and look less like I had a night with an Arsenal player” She fake heaves, you roll your eyes in response and walk to the door of her room.

“WAIT” She grabs your hand “I think the girls are downstairs, let me distract them and I’ll say Cereal when you’re clear to escape” She says walking out the room. You sneak down quietly and hide around a corner from the girls.

“No I didn’t sleep with Y/N! Jesus Erin, you’ll never catch me with a gooner” She laughs. You hear a gasp from Niamh, instantly you feel that dreadful feeling of being caught.

“Did she do this?” Niamh continues fussing over Guro “In all seriousness I’m proud of you for getting some Guro, it’s about time”.

“Ugh, can we stop talking about her now, have we got any cereal in the kitchen or did you eat it all Erin?” Guro says, you notice the codeword and slowly make your way to the front door of the house and manage to escape barely making a noise. Rather than the walk of shame, you opt for an Uber home rather than walking for 10 minutes, still unable to fight that nauseous feeling.

When you arrive home you open the door to find Vic passed out on the floor in the living room, you start making her a coffee to help her with the wake up, alongside some painkillers. You lift her gently off the floor and place her on the sofa whilst making her drink, she starts waking up too thankfully.

“Morning Y/N, still wearing last night's clothes?” She jokes.

“Didn’t even make it to my bed, you’re expecting me to go through all that effort to get dressed too?” You lie.

“Morning you two” Gio sings as she walks in with a starbucks in hand.

“Where were you, young lady?” You joke, hands on hips.

“Oh I stayed at Katherine’s, I can see you two got home safe?” Gio says looking over at you both still in last night's clothes.

“Oh yeah, I got in a little after this one, but all in one piece!” You say nudging Vic.

“God how drunk was I? I don’t even remember getting home, bet it was Viv” Vic sighs. You sigh, relieved that your housemates have no suspicions of you staying out last night.

“Anyway as much as I love you both, I need to get out of these clothes, and get some shopping done” You say.

“Can I come?” Vic asks.

“Nope, unless you really want to go with me to test out which guitar I want for 3 hours” You smirk.

“Nevermind, I’d rather sit at home eating ice cream” She kisses you on the cheek as she walks off to the kitchen with the coffee you made her, you make your way up to your room. As you get dressed after your shower, there’s a gentle knock on your door.

“What? I already said I’m going guitar shopping!” You grumble. “It’s me” You hear Gio on the other side “Are you decent?” you open the door for her to come in, you’ve not put a shirt on yet but have your sports bra on.

“Now, Vic may believe your lies, but I do not. Where were you last night?” She squints at you.

“I’m not lying, I was at home just after Vic” You shrug, Gio chuckles.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I won’t tell on you, but I can tell” She gives you a soft smile.

“But..how? You weren’t even home?” You sigh.

“One, you set off our ring doorbell with motion just now. I’ve deleted the recording of you fumbling your way in earlier. Two, your neck tells me a different story” She smirks poking at one of the dark red marks “Now I’ll keep your secret safe, on one condition. You tell me who it was”.

“You know I love you right?” You look at her guiltily, again she gives you her squinted look. “It was a Chelsea player”.

“I can’t believe you! I don’t even care who it is! If the team finds out you’re so fucked” Gio gasps. You throw a shirt on and get ready to leave whilst Gio is still fussing about your ordeal.

“You’re meeting up with her, aren’t you?” She smirks.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not” You say whilst still grabbing your stuff to go.

“Listen, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking… This is massively out of your normal behaviour. The Y/N Y/L/N doesn’t do dates. So this is clearly something special. I promise I won’t tell anyone, and I can’t wait for you to tell me all about your date later” Gio wraps you in a tight hug and kisses your cheek. “Now go get your girl!” She smacks your back.

You jog out of the house yelling a ‘bye’ and ‘love you’ to your housemates. You get in your car and drive to Guro’s apartment. As you pull up outside you see her having an animated conversation with Erin and Niamh and lower the window slightly to hear the conversation.

“No Erin, it's not some random creep I’ve met. I promise she’s really nice” Guro groans.

“I trust you, but I don’t trust her. Let me meet her. Is that her now?” She points directly at your car and starts walking towards it alongside Guro and Niamh. You decide to hop out of the car and greet them.

“Absolutely not, not a chance. Guro why a gooner!” Erin groans. You two have hung out a few times together post Chelsea and Arsenal matches so you are on good speaking terms.

“Hey nothing wrong with us!” You joke back smiling at Erin.

“Right, I’m going all protective on you now” She nudges Guro to get in your car whilst you two talk. “What are your intentions with Guro, and what happened last night?”.

“I had a feeling this was coming” You sigh “I know I have this history, but that’s all it is now. My intentions with Guro however? I don’t even know, but I do know I will treat her with the respect she deserves. I’m sorta new to this whole going on a date thing and I’m super nervous and I really like her…and now I’m rambling” You blush, Erin starts grinning, Niamh gives a nod.

“Our protective duties are done. She’s all yours. I trust you Y/N” Erin gives you a hug.

“But you didn’t even let me tell you what happened last night?” You question.

“Ah we don’t need to know, because I let you two and Niamh in last night. You were like giggly schoolgirls. You and I had to carry Guro up the stairs and that was a disaster, followed by us doing the same for Niamh. I was only joking about being protective, I know you care, even if it has only been one day of getting to know her and for the record, I had a feeling you guys would hit it off one day” She winks. You laugh and have a small conversation with the two of them before leaving for your date with Guro.

“Have fun you two! But not too much, yeah?” Niamh jokes as you start pulling the car away. As you get on the road you put your playlist on in the car and sit comfortably in Guro’s company.

“What did they say to you?” She asks, looking over to you. You keep your eyes on the road.

“Well, they went all protective, I rambled, turns out Erin let us and Niamh in last night and we carried you up the stairs, and then had to carry Niamh too. Now she thinks she’s cupid as she expected us to get on well” You chuckle, Guro groans.

“I swear to God she’s so annoying” Guro whines. “What did you ramble about?”.

“You” You say quietly.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you” She teases.

“You know what I said. You, I rambled about you. How this is all very new to me and even if it has been less than 24 hours I already really care about you and think you deserve the world” You ramble “Look what you’ve done I’m rambling again!” You grumble.

“Well I think it’s cute” both you and Guro start blushing. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever be such a mess for someone.

━━━━━

"...and that's how I missed the Derby last year" You chuckle as Guro laughs along.

"To think I thought it was a sport related injury, not tripping down the stairs drunk trying to chase Frida" She laughs. You stir your coffee and admire her, you find yourself getting lost in her eyes once again.

"You know, you aren't all that bad Y/LN" Guro smiles, placing a hand on yours.

"Same with you, Reiten" You give her hand a squeeze.

"I don't wanna go back to the girls after this, I'm gonna get quizzed" Guro groans.

"You can always come over to mine? Vic and Gio will be home but we can order some food in and chill?" You offer, she nods in response.

━━━━━

You open your door and you're hit with silence, either they're in their rooms or out.

"The coast is clear, go go go" you say, dragging Guro in. Luckily you were right, neither of your housemates were home. Your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Gio - GURO REITEN?!

As you both settle on your sofa you respond to Gio.

Y/N - Damn doorbell… Just a friend x

Gio - Liar. Keep your naughty business to your room please, we will be home soon (I didn't tell Vic)❤️

You sigh as you lock your phone, look at Guro who's also looking at your phone.

"Just a friend?" Guro looks at you.

"Well… I didn't wanna put a label on it, that's a lot of pressure for us" You mumble.

"Well I don't wanna just be your friend Y/N" She strokes your cheek "I like this side of you, nervous, caring and a real charmer".

"I try, I try" You chuckle "But in all seriousness, I feel the same. How about… Dating?" You suggest.

"As long as that means I can do this…" She leans in and kisses you, you get carried away until you hear the door being unlocked, you both run up the stairs and hide from your housemates who luckily didn't spot you.

"That was a close one" Guro breathes out heavily.

You hear a hello downstairs from someone you didn't expect.

"Oh my god Frida's home from visiting her girlfriend!" You instantly jump up "I'll be right back! FRIDA FRIDA FRIDA" you run down the stairs yelling and jump into your best friend's arms.

"Oh hello Y/N, I missed you too" Frida laughs, hugging you tightly. "Where are the other two?".

"They went out, they'll be back soon though!" You smile "You should probably unpack and shower, I'll leave you to it!" you say as you run back up to your room. Guro is just sitting on your bed, admiring your room and looking at your medals and awards.

"Enjoying yourself?" you smile, she nods. You pass her your phone with your local Chinese takeaway menu on it so she can pick what she wants, once you order you cuddle on the bed just chatting quietly.

"I can't believe I'm dating an Arsenal player" Guro groans.

"I'd be honoured too" You smirk.

"You're never getting me to wear your shirt, national team maybe but Arsenal it's a hard pass" She kisses your cheek.

"What would it take to get you to wear an Arsenal shirt" You ask her.

"Hmmm" she taps her chin thinking. You smirk and lean in to kiss her. "That won't work but it'll help your case". You connect your lips and carry on from where you left off downstairs. You lean over her and kiss her from above her, it continues getting fairly heated, quiet moans, shaky breaths.

"Hey Y/N your food is…. WOOOAH! I am so sorry! I didn't know you had someone up here… wait GURO?!" Frida shrieks.

“I would say it’s not what it looks like but… yeah” You sigh as you roll off Guro.

“Y/N, a word please? In private” Frida says, waving you out of the room and shutting the door. “Okay you know I love you a lot. But Guro has been through a lot, don’t play around with her, be honest and open and you’ll be fine”.

“Frida trust me, I don’t ever want to hurt her. Yeah it’s a lot for only a day of getting to know eachother, but there’s a connection we have and I can’t explain it. Ever since I first played against her a few years back I always felt nervous seeing her. She’s just so pretty and I used to find her somewhat intimidating. I wanted to get her attention but I knew she had a girlfriend and it’d just be seen as me doing ‘a Y/N’. Main reason I stopped partying and messing about, and she doesn’t even know it.” You ramble.

“Y/N…you really do care about her don’t you? I remember the last match you played Norway that you went all blushy when you did a shirt swap with her. It all makes sense! Y/N has a loooover” Frida sings.

“Shut uuuup!” You groan. “Now can I get back to my girlfriend but not girlfriend?” You whine.

“Yep, but on one condition, you tell the team when you’re official. Both teams that is” She smirks.

“Deal” You say as you open your bedroom door to go back in.

“Come sort out your food you two, or I’m stealing your spring rolls” Frida yells up the stairs. You instantly spring off the bed.

“NOOOOO!” You run down the stairs and tackle Frida, with Guro following behind, removing you from your friend and pinning you down.

“Traitor! You’re a traitor!” You say towards Guro.

“Us Norwegians stick together” Frida fist bumps Guro and you scowl at them.

You hear a commotion at the door followed by your other housemates walking in.

“Oh. My. God. We have a Chelsea player in our house, this feels so wrong” Gio jokes, going to greet Guro “I’m Gio, but you can call me Y/N’s worst nightmare”. Guro laughs and gives Gio a small hug. Followed by Vic. The two had brought home food for them and Frida so you all sit on the sofas and eat your food, engaging in chatter.

“Guro, why her though” Frida whines.

“Hey I heard her ramble to you through the door, I think just that alone was self explanatory” Guro shrugs, your eyes go wide. Guro hugs into your side.

"I never thought I'd see Y/N with a girlfriend. You're so happy and it's barely been a day" Vic grins.

“Yeah well, get used to it” You smile leaning more into Guro.

After a few hours of chatting, eating and watching shows your housemates decide to call it a night.

“I should probably get going, I’ve got training in the morning” Guro sighs, with a sad smile on her face “I had a lot of fun Y/N, I’m really glad we did have the guts to have a drunk sleepover”.

“Me too, how about I give you a lift home? That or you can always stay for the night? I’ve got some spare clothes and I can take you home in the morning and give you a lift to training, I have no plans tomorrow so I don’t mind hel-” You ramble until Guro breaks it with a gentle kiss.

“If it helps you stop rambling, I’ll stay tonight. How about we go out for dinner tomorrow…its a team dinner with partners at Chelsea so you’re more than welcome to go with me, that’s if you’d want to do that” She blushes. You nod in response.

“We aren’t moving too fast are we?” You chuckle “Because if so, I don’t care”.

“I think we’ve both had our eye on each other for a while, so I guess we are just making up for lost time” Guro smiles, squeezing your hand as you stifle a yawn.

“Right you, let’s go to bed” She pulls you upstairs.

━━━━━

Part 2 is already in the works :)

#woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #guro reiten x reader #guro reiten #guro reiten imagine

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

On Your Knees

mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

18+only, jealous!eddie, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, mutual pining

The year is 1991. You work across the street from Eddie's garage, and the two of you have been flirting for months. Neither one of you make a move, though, but when Eddie sees you out on a date at The Hideout with someone else, he realizes he doesn't want to share you.

Word count: 3.8k

Song Inspo: No One Like You/Scorpions and On Your Knees/W.A.S.P.

You’re finishing up dinner on a date with a guy you don’t even like, and you’re bored as hell, when you realize that the restaurant he took you to is only two blocks away from The Hideout. Your heart grows arms and legs and does a cartwheel as you think about Eddie. Eddie Munson, the one who turns wrenches at the gas station/mechanic shop across from the cafe where you’ve been working to pay off your student loans. Eddie, the one who calls you Princess, and you hate it, but he calls you that anyway. Eddie, the one who sat with you and made you laugh when you found out your parents were getting divorced. Eddie, the one who has a secret crush on you, but keeps his distance because he thinks you’re too good for him.

Eddie, the guy who hasn't dated anyone all summer because he compares everyone to you, and they all fall short.

Tonight, you’re with Troy: he just graduated with a business degree and his dad owns half of Hawkins. He has an Andrew McCarthy look about him, but he spent almost the entire evening bragging about all of the hot women he’s dated, and reminding you what a catch he his. Before Troy drives you home, you tell him you want to see some live music at The Hideout, that a friend of yours has a band that plays there once in a while.

“Have you ever been to that place?” Troy asks, a disgusted look on his face. “It’s a dump. We’ll probably get hepatitis just from sitting on the seats.”

There is a guy at the door on a stool with long blonde hair and a handlebar mustache wearing sunglasses at night taking the $1 cover. He doesn’t check your ID’s but he does look you both up and down with a grunt as Troy passes him the cash. A waft of cigarette smoke billows out as you enter, the old wood plank floors squeaking under your feet. On stage at the end of the room is a band covering No One Like You by Scorpions, and you notice right away that none of them are Eddie. It’s not until you realize how disappointed you are that you finally come to terms with the fact that you do, in deed, have a thing for Eddie. It was always a possibility in the back of your mind, but now you’re not sure why you didn’t realize it sooner.

It would be too obvious to turn around and leave now, so you ask Troy to get you each a beer. Eddie told you that there are never many people at The Hideout, and he was right, but the crowd that chose to be there was plenty enthusiastic. You were able to find two stools at a small, round table against the wall that was sticky to the touch. You watch Troy wipe the top of his beer bottle of with the inside of his polo shirt. You’re facing the stage, sipping your beer, enjoying the crowd, pretending to hear whatever college glory story Troy is telling you. You were putting your beer down to clap at the end of the song, but then…

There he is, in the flesh: Eddie Munson.

You see him sitting three tables away, near the middle of the room, and just as you realize it’s him—his eyes connect with yours. You have a sharp intake of breath at how good he looks sitting there in his leather jacket with his long hair all around him. Normally, you see him during work hours and he wears his coveralls and his hair back in a ponytail, which you also find sexy as hell.

Suddenly, you don’t want him to see you here with Troy. You don’t want him to think that this date means anything to you. You put your head down as if the beer bottle can hide you. But when you lift your eyes to sneak a glance at him again, you see he’s still looking at you; his eyes shifting from you to the back of Troy. He lifts his beer bottle in greeting, his eyebrow up, his face unreadable. You’d always known Eddie to be quick to smile—always joking with you and teasing you; trying to find any reason to touch you or talk to you when he came around before work, on his lunch break, and sometimes after work if he saw you closing up. But, in that moment, his face was anything but pleased.

You curse under your breath.

“What was that?” Troy asks, his face cringing at the next song (On Your Knees – W.A.S.P.)

You smile because you have no idea what he just said.

Troy chuckles, picks up your hand, and puts the back of your fingers to his lips to kiss them. You don’t even need to check and see if Eddie saw that, because you know he did. You force yourself to count to ten before you look in his direction again.

But he’s not looking at you this time, he’s talking to one of the two other guys at his table. A sexy waitress wearing daisy duke shorts to show off her long legs and a low cut shirt to show off her goods, was at his table, probably taking their drink order. To your chagrin, the hot waitress moves behind Eddie’s chair and bends over to wrap her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his head. Eddie sat there and let it happen; he looked like he was enjoying himself, one side of his mouth kicking up in one of those playfully devilish grins. In a follow up bold move, the waitress slides around to sit in his lap, her arm around his shoulders, her mouth only inches from his.

You jerk your head away so fast, it’s almost like you got slapped. You pretend to watch the band over Troy’s shoulder, not sure if you could handle it if you had to watch Eddie kiss someone else. Just as you are internally screaming at yourself not to look over again—you do it anyway.

The waitress is on her feet now, but Eddie has his arm hooked around her legs, her ass close to his face. With an adoring smile, she runs her hand down Eddie’s hair, and then gives him a wink before she walks away.

Eddie’s eyes snap to you.

You look down at your beer and choke, but turn it into a cough, and cover your mouth with your hand. The thought occurs to you that he was egging that waitress on to get back at you for being there with Troy. What did Eddie have to be jealous about? He never asked you out on a date or let you know he had any romantic interest in you. Sure, you suspected that the feelings between the two of you were growing, but for all you knew, you were misinterpreting things. You both graduated from different high schools, and Eddie liked to joke that you never would’ve given him the time of day back then. You were the prom queen, and he was The Freak.

“You okay?” Troy asks, putting his hand on your arm. “You ready to get out of this shithole?” But he only mouths the word shithole, as if anyone could hear him over the music.

You swallow hard and give an enthusiastic, albeit fake, “yes! Absolutely,” but first you needed to use the restroom; you’re not sure what is going on in your gut, but it feels like a swarm of butterflies wielding knives.

You stumble a bit getting off your stool, but then collect yourself, faking a confident smile. Troy lets you know that he would meet you outside in the car. Feeling somehow justified to do so after Eddie’s handsy nature with the waitress, you kiss Troy on the cheek as you head to the bathroom with your head down.

Ducking into the narrow hallway that was off to the back of the stage, you exhale a long-held breath, steadying yourself against the wall. The hallway is painted black brick, plastered in stickers, hand-drawn band posters, and graffiti. There is a payphone separating the two bathrooms, and when you pull open the door with the outline of a stick figure in a dress on it, you’re relieved to find that it was a one-person bathroom; gas station style. The bathroom itself is filled with graffiti tags and stickers as well, and there are peoples names etched into the mirror, along with phone numbers and curse words.

You make sure the door is locked, and then start pacing back and forth. “Damn you, Eddie,” you whisper to the emptiness around you.

You brace your hands on the edge of the white porcelain sink, meeting the eyes of your reflection in the mirror; they are positioned right under a very crudely carved broken heart outline. “Get a hold of yourself,” you’re still talking to yourself---Eddie Munson is slowly but surely making you certifiable. Everything is cool, everything is great. You’ll make a beeline for the exit, and you won’t have to see which girl he has on his lap now.

You shake your hands out, sigh heavily, and then unlock the door on an exhale.

As you come out, another woman who had been waiting gives you a dirty look and then goes in behind you. Once she shuts the door, you realize that you’re standing out in the dark hallway with Eddie.

He’s leaning casually against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and then he lifts his chin at you once you realize that it’s him, a bored look on his face. “What are you doing here, Princess?”

“Hi Eddie. I have to go now,” you say in a rush as you move to walk by him. In response, he stretches his arm out, takes a big step, and plants his hand flat on the wall next to you, using his body to block your path, his wallet chain hitting the brick with a clack.

There is a dramatic pause as it takes you a few seconds to find the strength to look up at him, and meanwhile you stare at the tattered metal t-shirt under his leather. There is a tightening in your chest: part confusion, part fear, and part deep, primal need that makes your core throb.

When your eyes slowly climb to his, you see that the pupils in his chocolate brown eyes are blown, and his lips are parted.

“What do you want, Eddie?” You ask, trying to read the hard set of his jaw.

He moves closer and lowers his head so that your eyes are now on the muscles of his neck, his heart beat visible.

“Is that your boyfriend?” His voice is a low murmur.

In a strange burst of frustration, you cock your head at him, pulling back to meet his eyes again. “What do you care?”

The woman comes out of the bathroom and give you both a side-eye as she walks by.

You follow suit and duck to the side to move around Eddie, but he is quick to switch positions---stretching his arm out so that the flat of his palm meets the opposite wall with a smack, his metal rings clinking together. The smell of his cologne mixed with leather and tobacco intoxicating you like a drug about to send you on a high to outer space.

Fuck, I can’t let her leave, Eddie thinks to himself, his mind racing, his heart about to explode out of his chest with the massive crush he has on you. For the past couple weeks, he’s been trying to build up the courage to ask you out, but then he would look down at his dirty hands and drive back to his messy trailer and push the thought out of his mind. But, seeing you on a date with someone else, someone other than him, flipped a switch that turned him into a bit of possessive, jealous asshole, and he didn’t like that side of him. It also set off an alarm deep in his gut letting him know that he was already in deep with you, and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

“Why was he touching you?” He glances up at his hand on the wall, but then flicks his gaze back down to you, lingering on your mouth, expecting an answer.

“Are you in charge of who gets to touch me now?” You rest your shoulder on the wall, returning his eye contact with a defiance that makes him the first to look away.

Eddie’s jaw muscles tighten, his back teeth grinding—he felt like he was losing control. The need for you to be his—to belong to him—tightened like thorns around his heart more and more every day.

“Listen, Eddie,” you soften, remembering that this is the guy who makes you mix tapes and leaves his tip money in the shape of origami animals. “I went on a date with him because he asked me. And I’ve been really...lonely,” you were a bit ashamed to say that last part, but it was true.

Eddie softens too, hearing your voice tremble.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “Being with him only made me realize how much I’d rather be with you.”

The look you give him moves him in a way he could not have predicted. In the time it takes for him to exhale the breath held tight in his chest, Eddie cups your face in his hands, and backs you against the far wall, his mouth covering yours, moaning as you slip your tongue between his lips, meeting his desire with equal force.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispers against your mouth.

You grab him by the belt loop and yank him closer. “You can have it, all of it,” you say, breathlessly. You can tell his hands are hovering, not sure if you want him to touch you in other places, and so you reach down and cup between his legs, a bit taken aback at the size of the cock growing in his jeans.

“Holy shit,” you say as you glance down.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says in regards to his size.

“Don’t be sorry,” you assure him. “I want it inside of me.”

Eddie pauses to make eye contact with you, swallowing hard, the need for you tightening in his balls. You both glance at the empty bathroom and simultaneously start to move, shutting and locking the door as soon as you can. The romantic in Eddie can’t help but think that this isn’t the ideal place for a first time with you, but you’re both too horny—too ready. He can feel how ready you are soaking through your panties as he reaches under your dress to stroke you.

Eddie has you against the door of the bathroom, his tongue searching your mouth, moaning, while his fingers rub you on top of your underwear before slipping them aside to stick one finger in.

Your breath catches, and Eddie groans at your resistance, at how tight you are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your mouth. “I want to taste you.”

He drops to his knees, taking your underwear with him as you hold your dress up at your waist. He takes one more look up at you, still not believing this is really happening. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he gushes, just as his mouth buries into your folds, his tongue dipping down to fuck your hole. You put your hand to his hair and cling to it. He brings one finger up inside of you again, finding a little less resistance, as he sucks and flicks his tongue on your nub.

“Oh my god...Eddie...just like that…”

You hear people out in the hallway, but one uses the payphone and another one goes into the men’s restroom. You can feel Eddie’s hand with the chunky rings resting on your thigh, and you reach your hand down to intertwine fingers with his as he ventures to sink a second finger inside of you. You cry out a little, and his eyes snap up to look at you, but then he realizes it was a cry of pleasure as your opening spreads open for him, swelling to meet his needs.

Your leg starts to tremble; you release his hand to pull down the front of your dress and cup your breast, plucking at your nipple.

“Baby..I think I’m about to….oh fuck…”

Eddie takes your core into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue at a rapid speed, filling you with two fingers as your arousal drips down your inner thighs.

“Wait...wait….” you stop him, and reluctantly he tilts his face back to look at you; his mouth and chin glistening with your juices. You grab his chin. “I want to cum with you inside me.”

Eddie’s cock jerks in his jeans at that suggestion, even though he intended to make this all about you.

“Please, baby,” you plead with him, still holding him by the chin, and then he rises to his full height and prepares to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand before he kisses you, but you stop him.

“I want to taste me on you,” you tell him, as your mouths collide again, murmuring about your mutual need for each other. Eddie feels like the tip of his cock is about to blow off with how turned on he is by you.

Eddie turns you around, reaching around to play with your clit as he does so, your head tilting back to kiss him. You press your cheek against the door and pull your skirt up, your underwear still around your knees, arching your lower back so that your ass lifts up to him.

He spanks you with the flat of his hand, and then rubs it; he opens you up with his thumbs to look at your perfect asshole. He runs a finger from your swollen lips to your backdoor, watching you shiver at the sensation.

He undoes his belt and drops his black jeans and boxers just enough, clutching his throbbing hard cock. You look behind you at the weapon in his hand and start to rock your hips back, begging for it.

Eddie squeezes some precum to the tip and then rubs it along your soft, soaking hole, feeling it grip him and suck him in. Your tight entrance makes him shiver as he clutches your ass with a grunt, his rings slightly pinching your skin. He thrusts it in half way and you toss your head back.

“Oh my god, fuck fuck, oh my goddddd….” you can feel the orgasm mounting again, unfurling like a band of firecrackers at the base of your spine.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door.

“Out of Order!” Eddie growls back at them.

His hips are rocking now, sending his cock deeper and deeper inside of you, “holy fuck, you feel so good,” he groans with a curse, moving faster now, watching your juices soak his cock.

A few more thrusts and you are bracing yourself against the door, muttering about how good it feels, pushing your ass back into him so that he can bottom out inside of you, cursing and groaning as he does so.

“That’s it,” he tells you, your skin meeting with a satisfying slapping sound. “That’s my good girl.”

You reach down and rub your clit as you reach the brink, your body vibrating, the heavy beat of the music thudding in your chest.

“Eddie...Eddie baby...I’m...I’m…” And then you go momentarily limp and he holds your hips as you stupify for a moment, seeing white behind your eyelids, soaking his cock with your cum, mumbling, as a whip inside of you snaps.

Eddie’s orgasm isn’t far behind, he hisses at the way your walls grip him as you cum, hearing your whimpers of pleasure.

His hips start to pump at twice the pace, pouring into you, his wallet chain slapping his jeans. “Fuck, I’m about to...where do you want me to…”

“Inside of me, oh god, inside of me….”

A few more thrusts and he starts to explode, sending his seed deep inside of you, kneading the skin on your ass as his pelvis curves against you. He trembles as he gushes, his hand traveling up to cup the back of your neck.

Heaving deep breaths, he pulls you back against him, kissing your neck, fondling your breast, his cock not ready to leave the tight grip you have on him. “My cum is so deep inside of you, you belong to me now.”

You turn your head to look up into his eyes and he kisses your mouth and then your nose, holding you there.

Someone bangs on the door again, and this time they rattle the handle.

You both share muffled laughs as you quickly pull yourselves together.

“Sorry, toilet was broken,” you yell, checking your face in the mirror.

When you’re both ready, Eddie reaches back to take your hand in his before he unlocks the door.

On the other side of the door is Troy. He’s frowning, and then his face drops, his mouth going agape as he sees the state of you two and his brain scrambles to register what he is looking at.

“What the hell is going on?” He barks at you, incredulous. You find it amusing that Troy was worried about catching germs from merely sitting on the seats, and here you are getting raw-dogged in one of the bathrooms.

Eddie keeps a firm grip on your hand, pulling you closer to him, as he checks Troy in the shoulder on his way out. “She’s with me now,” Eddie tells him. “Don’t ever touch her again.”

You shrug your shoulders at Troy, and give him an ‘oops’ face as you follow Eddie’s lead back to his van, back to more debauchery.

#eddiemunson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson oneshot #the hideout #fem reader

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whorekneecentral · 1 year

Note

sd! toto? this man is the biggest sugar daddy material hands down, like a billionaire. maybe the reader is student at Harvard (i know this type of prompt has been used many times but I can’t think of anything else 😭) she’s studying to be a professor and can’t seem to be paying her student loans. And her friend invited her over to the paddock for the weekend to get her mind off of her studies and relax, where she then meets Toto and there’s a attraction which then leads to him being her secret sugar daddy?

-jenson anon ❤️

jenson anon you are so sexy for this idea ily bae <3333

you thought you knew him from somewhere; your friend ran in all the high end, luxury circles because of who her parents were and when she introduced you to the team principal of mercedes; you knew you had seen him before.

he remembered you before you remembered him - the two of you had met when he did a lecture at harvard. you were telling him that you were getting your PhD so become a professor and he said if you ever changed your mind, you could come work for them.

you never bothered with his comment, you figured you'd never see him again; you had been too busy to even think about that. between school and working to be able to pay for school, you barely had time to breathe.

the only reason you were there is cause your friend's parents paid for everything.

the afternoon goes by, everyone gets busy and your friend eventually disappears when she sees someone she knows.

you were sat in merc hospitality, having a coffee when someone asked if they could sit with you. you look over and see toto.

you tell him go ahead and you two make small talk. he asks how the PhD is going, you tell him it's slowly killing you.

"what do you mean?" the man pushes his glasses up a bit, looking at you.

you shrug, "I might die before I pay back the loans I have." you joked, not really tho.

toto shook his head, "so stupid that you need loans to go to school, to work just to pay back the loans."

"tell me about it." you sighed, spinning the cup around on the table. it goes quiet for a bit before he speaks. "let me pay for it."

you look at him like he's insane, "no, absolutely not. you're very kind for offering but I cannot let you do that."

"why not? it's a good use of my money."

"I wouldn't be able to pay you back, it would kill me to just take the money from you."

toto nods, telling you he understood and the conversation drops.

"we can work something out," he starts and you cut him off, "I can't afford that-"

"no, not like that. uh, so I was thinking more along the lines of you just giving me some company."

you get what he meant and you can't help but laugh. "I'm not looking to be a sugar baby."

"no of course not," he shook his head, "just two friends who benefit from each other?"

"well when you put it like that." you nod, smiling.

toto asked you to join him for the races over your summer break, in exchange he paid for your next two semesters.

you got to travel the world and he got the company he wanted, while your school was paid for.

it was nice, you got to explore on the days you didn't join him on track. he left a card with you which you used for emergencies but he left it with you incase you wanted to shop or stop to eat somewhere. you two had dinner together almost every night, unless he was working late.

he spoiled you with lavish clothing and jewellery to match; you told him it was too much and he said you needed to fit in with the crowd so he's just making sure you don't stick out.

you both knew he just liked to spoil you, that was the whole thing.

the break in the race schedule came up, the drivers off to rest for the summer. toto asked if you'd like to join him in England, spend a few weeks with him relaxing.

you said okay; the 2 of you spent 2 of the 4 weeks in England, resting and getting to know each other properly- and by that I mean in bed.

one too many glasses of wine turned into flirting, into touches and stolen glances and eventually you two ended up going at it right on the deck.

the next 2 weeks were on an island, a little villa all to yourselves, rolling around in bed all morning, waking up to the sun and your lover kissing on you.

you returned to the paddock, toto a little more touchy than before but no one seemed to say anything even tho they noticed the change in the two of you.

#sugar daddy!toto #toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #jenson anon :)

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chiffxna · 11 months

Text

A Love Too Dark (04)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 04: Insatiable Need For Satisfaction

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

PREV : Chapter 03

NEXT : Chapter 05

Chapter Summary:

Yn lived the day like normal until it was time to meet the Marquis de Gramont for the deal they made.

Yn awoke from her slumber with the sun's first light, though it was still far too early for her taste. She lay in bed paralyzed by fear as the full weight of what would happen that evening crashed down on her fragile shoulders. Today, she would fulfill her part of the deal with the Marquis de Gramont which was to spend a private dinner with him that evening. Yn sighed heavily as she stared up at her ceiling and wondered how exactly she got into this position.

She remembered how her life was before she took the bunny-girl job. She, her mother, and her young stepsister was from a small family who was poor in money yet rich in love. They were happy despite the struggles they faced. Yn and Sydney could see how hardworking her mother was in trying to make ends meet while ensuring that both of his daughters were happy. They loved her truly and wanted nothing more than to ease her burden.

Yn did not bother to ask her about her father since her mother showered her with love and praises endlessly. Yn was given so much motherly love that she didn't feel the lack of fatherly affection. She was fine with just her mother. In their dingy apartment, their life was like sunshine and a rainbow.

And then, the storm struck.

When her mother got diagnosed with a rare disease and needed expensive treatment, it was up to Yn who had to take on the burdens and work as a young adult to do whatever it took to save her. She tried getting loans but was turned down due to her lack of collateral. That was when she turned to the casino and took on the job as a bunny-girl.

But never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine that she would end up being in a situation like this. A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined what the Marquis had planned for her that evening. She knew she had to be strong and brave when that time comes, not just for herself and Amelia, but most importantly, for her mother.

Yn got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she wondered if the Marquis find her attractive. She had never considered herself a beauty, but the way he had kissed her made her think otherwise. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of such thoughts, and focused on preparing herself for the day.

"Mrraoww!"

Yn turned to see that Rosie, her precious and adorable cat, had entered the bathroom and was sitting and staring up at her with a pair of wide green eyes. Yn couldn't resist herself from bending down and petting its head lovingly. She then spoke, "I know. I know. You must be hungry."

She then busied herself with feeding Rosie and preparing breakfast for both her and Sydney. The latter woke up and suddenly wrapped her tiny arms around Yn's waist, startling the adult female.

"Yn, I had a bad dream," Sydney said in a small muffled voice since she had buried her face into Yn's skirt.

Yn immediately stopped what she was doing, wiped her hands on the apron around her front body, and knelt down to be at eye level with her stepsister. "Oh no. What happened, Syd?"

"I dreamt that mom was sick and we couldn't save her," Sydney said, her eyes filled with tears.

Yn felt a pang of guilt in her chest. She knew that Sydney was feeling the same way she was, scared and worried about their mother. Yn and her mother tried to hide the true severity of her illness and its treatment from Sydney, but the girl eventually felt lonely of her mother's love and became worried about why she was stuck in the hospital for months. It was then she concluded that mom needed saving.

Yn hugged Sydney tightly and said, "Don't worry, Syd. We'll save her. We'll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets better."

Sydney nodded her head, her tears drying up. Yn then stood up and said with a warm smile, "Now, how about we get some breakfast? I made your favorite pancakes."

Sydney's eyes lit up and she grinned, "Yay! Pancakes!"

Yn smiled and took Sydney's hand, leading her to the dining table. She served the pancakes while Sydney set the table. As they ate, Yn stared at her young stepsister quietly. It was at that moment she realized that she really needed the job at the casino. She must maintain her position there and earn enough for her mother's hospital treatment. But first of all, she had to fulfill her promise to the Marquis de Gramont. Hopefully, after tonight, Amelia's job at the casino would maintain and Yn wouldn't have any direct confrontation with the Frenchman.

As they finished breakfast, Yn got up and began to clear the dishes. Sydney offered to help, but Yn told her to go and get ready for school. Once everything was done, Yn walked her to preschool and dropped her off with a tight hug.

Yn then headed to the cafe where she would work her morning shift by boarding a bus. Edric was the first to greet her with a grin as she walked in.

"Good morning, Yn! You're early today," Edric said in his usual calm voice.

Yn smiled back and replied, "Yes, I want to make sure I have everything covered before the evening shift. Is there anything I need to know?"

Edric shook his head and said, "Nope, everything's the same. Just be your charming self and serve that coffee and pastries like a pro."

Yn nodded and was about to saunter to the back to change into her uniform when Edric suddenly called her, "Hey..."

Yn looked at him with a pair of wide doe eyes of curiosity, wondering what it was that Edric needed to talk to her about. The male then hesitantly asked, "Umm. Last night, did that guy disturb you again?"

The lady knew he was referring to the Marquis de Gramont. She had told him about a man who kept pursuing her but she never mentioned the Frenchman's name or identity to him and she would like to keep it that.

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal to Edric. She knew that the Marquis was a man of power and influence and she didn't want to get anyone else involved in her problems. So she decided to lie.

"He didn't... Last night was... fine," she lied as she felt goosebumps grow on her skin as she recalled the filthy, rough way the Marquis sucked her mouth last night.

Edric nodded with a stretched smile, an expression that Yn couldn't read. He replied, "That's good then. But stay alert, okay? He is not the only man with bad intentions."

Yn nodded, "I will. Thank you for asking."

With that, she headed to the back to change into her uniform. As she worked her shift, she couldn't help but think about the Marquis de Gramont and what he had in store for her that evening. She tried to push the thought away, focusing instead on her customers and serving them with her usual charm and grace. But the nagging feeling at the back of her mind refused to go away.

Finally, her morning shift was over and Yn headed home to preschool to pick Sydney up. As the former entered the preschool, she saw her adorable sister waiting by the entrance, holding her little backpack tightly. The moment that little girl spotted her, she ran towards her with a wide smile, her pigtails bouncing with each step. To Yn, the sight of her stepsister's innocent smile brought a momentary respite from the heavy thoughts that weighed on her mind.

"Yn!" Sydney exclaimed, wrapping her small arms around Yn's legs in a tight hug.

Yn beamed and patted her head affectionately, "Hey, how was your day?"

Sydney giggled and replied, "It was good! We painted pictures today, and I made one for mom!"

Yn's heart swelled with love and pride for Sydney's sweet gesture. "That's wonderful, Syd! I'm sure mom will love it. Let's go to the hospital and show her, okay?"

Sydney nodded eagerly, her pigtails bouncing with excitement. Yn held her hand as they made their way to the hospital by boarding a bus. Throughout the ride, Yn watched as the little girl hummed a kid's song while admiring the drawing she made with crayons. Yn smiled warmly at the innocent scene, grateful for this moment of serenity amidst the chaos of her life.

Arriving at the hospital, they went through the familiar routine of sanitizing their hands and checking in at the reception desk. Yn noticed the tiredness in her mother's eyes as they entered the room. It broke her heart to see her once vibrant and lively mother weakened by her illness.

"Mom!" Sydney exclaimed, rushing to her mother's bedside, unaware of the sickly condition on the older woman's face.

Yn followed closely behind, a mixture of emotions bubbling inside her. She greeted her mother with a warm smile, trying to hide her own worries. "Hey, mom. Look who's here with something special for you."

Their mother's face lit up with a gentle smile as she saw Sydney holding up her painted picture. "Oh, my sweet Sydney. What a lovely surprise! Thank you, darling."

Sydney proudly presented the artwork to her mother, who admired it with genuine affection. Yn stood by their side, her heart swelling with love and a tinge of sadness. As they spent the rest of the afternoon with their mother, Yn couldn't help but think of the grim reality that loomed over their family. Their mother had been battling her illness for months, and with each passing day, Yn could see her weakening. She knew that time was running out, and it broke her heart to think of a life without her mother.

She knew she must earn enough money fast before the illness could consume her forever. But how? She thought: Does she have to take on a third job every day?

After spending some quality time with their mother, Yn and Sydney said their goodbyes, promising to return soon. Yn held Sydney's hand tightly as they walked out of the hospital, a heavy silence enveloping them. Sydney looked up at Yn with innocent eyes, sensing her sister's unease.

"Sissy, are you okay?" Sydney asked, her voice filled with concern.

Yn crouched down to Sydney's level, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She forced a smile, wanting to shield Sydney from her worries as much as possible. "I'm fine, Syd. Just a little tired. Let's go home."

They boarded a bus and made their way back home. Yn decided to take a shower to wash off the dust and grime of the day. As she stood under the hot water, she felt her body relax. Her mind wandered, wondering what the evening would bring. She tried to push away the image of the Marquis, but it was etched into her mind. She couldn't shake off the feeling of dread and fright that he had evoked in her.

After the shower, Yn put on a wear she deemed fitting for a private dinner - a dress with white and blue floral patterns all over it. The bottom of the dress was just inches above her ankles, and the waist area was made tightened to show her midsection, with a split to show up her left thigh, with short puffed sleeves, and revealing a modest amount of her chest and collarbones. It was a pretty modest dress. It was actually a hand-me-down from her mom and that was the most expensive dress for someone as poor as her.

Before entering the living room to find Sydney, she contacted Barbara yet again. When her cousin agreed to take care of Sydney again, Yn felt an immense sense of gratitude and hoped she wasn't putting too much strain on her.

Yn then put on her skincare routine and light makeup to complement her dress, opting for a natural look that accentuated her features. She brushed some neutral eyeshadow on her lids, added a touch of mascara to enhance her lashes, and applied a soft pink shade to her lips. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel in awe of how she looked.

With her appearance ready, Yn made her way to the living room where Sydney was playing with her toys. Her stepsister looked up, her eyes widening in awe as she took in Yn's transformed appearance.

"Wow, you look so pretty!" Sydney exclaimed, her face lighting up with delight, "Like a princess about to talk with people on the streets!"

Yn smiled at the little girl's enthusiasm, her heart warmed by Sydney's innocent admiration. "Thank you, Syd."

"You are going to work like that?" asked Sydney who couldn't keep her eyes off of her sister.

Yn neared her and turned on the television to entertain the little girl. She then rubbed the top of her young sister's head and replied with a small smile, "Yeah. Tonight, I have dinner there."

Sydney tilted her head, her curiosity was evident. "Who are you going to have dinner with?"

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to explain the situation to a young child. She decided to keep it simple. "A friend, but don't worry, Aunt Barbara will take care of you while I'm gone."

Sydney nodded, accepting Yn's explanation. "Okay! Have fun!"

Yn hugged Sydney tightly, breathing in her sweet scent and cherishing the warmth of their embrace. "I will, Syd. I love you."

"I love you too, Yn," Sydney replied, her small voice filled with affection.

Reluctantly, Yn released the hug and stood up, her heart heavy with both guilt and trepidation about what would happen next. She then boarded a bus with a huge amount of shyness and insecurity, considering she was dressing up prettily, in the dress she rarely wore in public. Of course, she noticed the stares she got from people and that got her feel even more bashful.

Soon enough, she arrived at the casino, one hour earlier than the start of her usual shift. She entered through the back door which was reserved for staff's use only. She refused to go through the main entrance and the casino lobby and be stared at by the patrons. Once inside the staff's changing room, she began to wonder how she was going to meet the Marquis. He said he would pick her up. She wondered: Does that mean she has to wait outside the casino?

Yn took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She glanced at the clock in the changing room and realized she had some time before the scheduled meeting. She decided to freshen up, ensuring she looked presentable when the Marquis arrived.

She touched up her makeup, ensuring everything was in place. The nerves were still present, but she reminded herself to stay composed and focused. As she finished fixing her appearance, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, trying to muster up confidence.

With a final deep breath, Yn emerged from the changing room, only to have her path blocked by Amelia who seemed to be tip-toeing towards it. The new girl was startled when she saw Yn, her skin visibly jumping in surprise.

"Amelia," Yn greeted her with wide, curious eyes, "You are early."

"Hey, Yn," replied Amelia as she put on a nervous smile. She paused as she scanned Yn's whole figure up and down and commented, "And you look pretty. Is there a special occasion tonight?"

Yn felt her cheeks heat up, flustered by the compliment. "Uh, yeah. I have a meeting with someone tonight."

Amelia made a noise of curiosity, "Oh."

"Anyway, why are you here early?" asked Yn.

An expression of guilt and embarrassment appeared on Amelia's face as she cast her eyes down. She was staring at the ground, apparently unable to look back at Yn, as she answered, "Umm... I figured that I could come early and apologize to Mr. Malone... for being absent without telling him... before anyone comes here."

Yn suddenly realized why Amelia had come in so early. She wanted to speak to Mr. Malone without anyone else around, in case he became angry with her and embarrassed her in front of her colleagues.

Yn felt a pang of sympathy for the new girl. She knew how intimidating Mr. Malone could be, especially when he was angry. Without thinking, Yn reached out and placed a comforting hand on Amelia's shoulder.

"It's okay, Amelia. We all make mistakes. I'm sure Mr. Malone will understand," Yn said, trying to reassure the nervous girl.

Amelia looked up at Yn, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Yn."

Yn smiled warmly at Amelia. As the both of them stood in the corridor, engaged in their conversation, the casino's atmosphere suddenly shifted. A hush fell over the area, and Yn's heart skipped a beat. She could sense a presence, a powerful one, entering the casino. She turned her head in the direction of the disturbance and saw the Marquis de Gramont making his grand entrance.

Accompanied by his imposing bodyguards, the Marquis exuded an air of confidence and authority. His presence demanded attention, and all eyes were on him as he made his way through the bustling casino floor. His eyes were cold and intense, a shadow projected upon them, as he looked forward with one of his hands hidden inside his pocket.

He was donning a three-piece suit as usual but this time, it was eye-catching and bright. His suit was a shimmering pattern of rich red. His shirt was plain white, and his waistcoat, necktie, and pants were stark black. Yn couldn't help but admit in her head that he looked dashing in the bright attire.

Amelia and Yn instantly became quiet as they watched the Marquis headed straight for his office which was originally a VIP room for the casino. At some point, his eyes strayed and scanned his surrounding as though he was looking for something.

Yn felt a chill run down her spine as the Marquis' piercing gaze landed on her. Even from across the room, his gaze felt heavy and weighty, as if he was reading her very soul. Yn felt perturbation as she locked eyes with the Marquis. She quickly turned her head away from him, hoping to avoid more of his attention.

Yn's heart raced as the Marquis continued to scrutinize her. His lingering gaze made her feel exposed and vulnerable. She was relieved when he finally disappeared behind the closed door of his office. His bodyguards stood on each side of the door, facing the rest of the casino. The momentary respite allowed her to collect herself and turn her attention back to Amelia.

Amelia, visibly shaken by the encounter, looked at Yn with wide eyes. "Yn, I'm scared. I... What if he's going to fire me?"

Yn reached out, placing a comforting hand on Amelia's shoulder. She understood the fear that gripped her colleague. The Marquis's presence was intimidating, and his power within the casino was undeniable. But Yn couldn't let her own fears consume her, not when Amelia needed support.

"I understand how you feel, Amy," Yn said, her voice gentle yet firm. "The first thing you should do is to apologize to him. If you want, I can accompany you to see him."

Amelia looked at Yn, a mix of gratitude and uncertainty in her eyes. "You would do that? You would go with me?"

Yn nodded, a reassuring smile on her face. "Of course. We'll approach him respectfully. Oh, and tell them that you were sick these past few days. I told them that. Just to get the story straight."

With Yn's words of encouragement, Amelia's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. She felt a glimmer of hope, knowing that she wouldn't have to face the Marquis alone. She then replied, "Okay. Thanks for that, Yn."

Yn and Amelia decided to wait for a while before approaching the Marquis. They found a quiet corner of the casino, away from the prying eyes of the patrons. Yn reached out and took Amelia's hand, offering support and solidarity.

"Just remember, Amy, choose your words carefully," Yn said, her voice steady. "Give him respect, even if you dislike him or find his views distasteful."

Amelia nodded, a newfound determination in her eyes. She squeezed Yn's hand, appreciating the strength and compassion her colleague displayed.

With their minds set, Yn and Amelia walked toward the Marquis's office once again. This time, as they approached the closed door, they could feel a mix of nervousness and resolve coursing through their veins.

One of the bodyguards stationed by the door asked them in a very thick foreign accent, "What do you want?"

Yn maintained a respectful tone as she spoke, "We would like to speak with the Marquis if he's available."

The bodyguard, unyielding in his stance, scrutinized them for a moment before stepping closer to the door and knock it. They waited for a few seconds before the door was opened from the inside. It was the loyal and muscular bodyguard in a suit who was accompanying the Marquis wherever he went.

He then asked the bodyguard outside the door in another language. Yn realized it's not French, but Spanish. The two bodyguards exchanged a few words before the man who was stationed by the door turned to Yn and Amelia and said, "You may come in."

The Marquis' loyal bodyguard then opened the door wider and waited. Yn and Amelia said a small thanks to them before they advanced. They stepped into the office, the bodyguard closing the heavy door behind them and he then stood aside, becoming a silent observer of the scene. The room was opulent, adorned with lavish furniture and artwork that spoke of wealth and prestige. The Marquis stood behind a large mahogany desk, facing a full-body mirror on the wall, as he adjusted his waistcoat.

His cold gaze shifted to the two girls in the reflection of the mirror before he focused back on fixing his overall three-piece suit. He did not utter a word. It was either he chose to ignore them or he awaited them to speak.

Yn took a deep breath, gathering her courage before she spoke. "Sir, if I may, I have brought Amelia with me today because she would like to speak with you directly."

The Marquis's cold gaze flickered briefly towards Yn, acknowledging her presence. He turned his attention back to the mirror, adjusting his suit with meticulous precision. The room remained filled with an air of tension, the weight of the Marquis's authority palpable.

Amelia, sensing the need to break the silence, stepped forward and spoke with a voice tinged with nervousness. "Sir, I... I wanted to apologize for my disrespectful behavior that night. I am truly sorry for my action, and it will not happen again. I will learn from my mistake and I will improve myself."

The Marquis resumed adjusting his attire. His cold eyes, projected by shadow, looked as his fingers deftly fixed his necktie. His silence lingered, intensifying the tension in the room. Yn could feel her own heart pounding, unsure of what the Marquis's response would be.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Marquis turned away from the mirror and faced them with an air of authority, shoulders square and gaze stony and unreadable. His face was illuminated by shadows, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the strong line of his jaw. His hands were hidden away in the pockets of his suit. His eyes were blazed with a fierce intensity that left Amelia cowering in fear as if he had a personal vendetta against her.

With deliberate slowness, he spoke in a low and measured tone with his usual thick French accent, "Actions speak louder than words. Your apology is worthless… unless you prove it. It has come to my attention that you were absent for two days straight and failed to notify Malone. Do you have an explanation for this negligence?"

The Marquis's words were like a sword, cutting through the air and leaving a trail of unease in its wake. Amelia swallowed hard, her eyes darting nervously at the Marquis and the floor beneath her.

"I… I was sick, sir. I didn't mean to cause any problems," she stammered, hoping to appease the Marquis's wrath, "I'm so sorry for not informing Mr. Malone."

The Marquis's eyes narrowed slightly at her response as if he was skeptical of her excuse.

He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "You were sick for two days and couldn't be bothered to notify your superior? That is unprofessional."

Amelia and Yn's hearts skipped a beat, and fear coiled at the pit of their stomach. Amelia knew she was walking on thin ice then and there, and one wrong move could tip her over the edge. She could feel the weight of his disapproval bearing down on her and that her job was on the line.

The Marquis suddenly advanced forward, striding towards them with his hands remaining hidden in his pockets. He gave a fleeting glance at Yn, who was equally nervous as the coworker beside her, before he turned his gaze back to scowl at Amelia whom he deemed was clumsy and unprofessional.

The Marquis's glare deepened as he towered over the young female adults, his imposing presence suffocating the room. He spoke with a voice that brooked no dissent, "Second chances are always the excuses of those who fail. Your actions have consequences, and I have been contemplating if you are fit to remain in this casino."

Amelia's breath hitched, her eyes welling up with tears as she realized the severity of the situation. She pleaded desperately, her voice trembling, "Please, sir, I will do anything to make it right. I beg for another chance. I will bear any consequences, I swear."

The Marquis's gaze shifted from Amelia to Yn, a calculating glint in his eyes. Yn's heart sank as she braced herself for what the Marquis was about to say.

"Agreed. Consequences must be borne," the Marquis responded as he shifted closer to Yn. This time his eyes were fixated on Yn, watching her reaction, as he revealed, "However, it had been discussed yesterday. Yn will bear the consequences on your behalf."

Amelia's eyes widened in shock and her mouth agape in disbelief at what she heard. Yn, on the other hand, had her gaze averted away from Amelia and her face held a mixture of shame and embarrassment. Her body was stiff with a tense posture as the shock of the situation sunk in. It was evident that Yn did not want her to find out like this. If anything, she wished no one would know about her deal with the Marquis de Gramont and their upcoming private dinner.

The Marquis' lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. He turned his attention back to Amelia, his gaze piercing through her like a dagger. "Consider yourself fortunate, that Yn is willing to shoulder your burden. Remember this act of loyalty, for it may be your only saving grace."

The Marquis looked Yn up and down in a way that was both appraising and appreciative. His smirk revealed his satisfaction with what he saw, leaving no doubt as to his thoughts. His eyes were sparkling with a hint of pleasure, and his mouth curved upwards into a smug smirk.

He nodded his head quietly before he said, "Come, Yn. We shall tend to the deal we made."

Yn took a deep breath, steeling herself against the Marquis's gaze. She knew that what she was about to do was risky, but if she could satisfy him for the night, Amelia's career would be taken from the chopping block. She had done this to herself and made a deal with the devil, so she'd have to fulfill her end of the bargain.

She chanced a glance at Amelia who was still stunned at the revelation. She gave her a sad smile and said, "Don't forget to talk to Mr. Malone, okay?"

She turned around and followed the Marquis out of his office, aware of Amelia's eyes following her until the new girl was snapped out of a trance by another bodyguard who told her to leave the office.

The Marquis and Yn walked in silence down the winding halls of the casino, the only sound was the click of the Marquis' dress shoes on the polished marble floors. His loyal bodyguard followed them from behind. Finally, they exited the casino through the entrance and out into the city streets.

A sleek black limousine awaited them outside the casino, its engine humming softly. The Marquis opened the door and gestured for Yn to step inside, even placing a hand on her back purposely. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and uncertainty. As she entered the luxurious vehicle, she couldn't help but feel trapped.

The Marquis followed suit, sliding into the limousine with an air of confidence and authority. His smug expression remained firmly in place, his eyes glinting with a mix of satisfaction and intrigue. The door was closed behind him by his loyal bodyguard, sealing them off from the outside world.

The limousine's interior is luxurious and opulent, with plush leather seats, polished wood accents, and dim ambient lighting lending a sense of sophistication. The atmosphere inside the limousine was heavy with a mix of scents; the leather seats had a scent of newness, while the wood accents carried a subtle hint of fresh cedar. There was also the faint aroma of expensive cologne, adding to the air of mystery and power.

The Marquis settled into his seat, his knee bumping against Yn's, causing her to sneakily look over. He was spreading his legs wide enough that one of his knees brushed against hers. When she sensed his gaze landing on her, she averted her gaze and looked out the window. The male beside her stared at her quietly, like he was silently relishing the control he held over her.

The vehicle started moving, the quiet hum of the engine filling the small space, as the limousine glided through the darkening city streets. Yn felt the tension in the air build as she could feel the Marquis's gaze burning into her head.

The Marquis' voice broke the heavy silence, his voice thick with a French accent was dripping with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "You look ravishing, ma lapine."

He paused to scrutinize her. He eyed her figure up and down and harrumphed in pleasure and satisfaction as he spoke, "Hmm... The way that dress hugs your curves, it makes it difficult for me."

Yn's discomfort grew as the Marquis's words washed over her. She tried to maintain her composure, reminding herself of the deal she had struck, but the unease within her intensified. The compliments felt more like veiled manipulation than genuine praise.

"Thank you, sir," Yn responded politely, her voice laced with a hint of unease. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, inching slightly away from the Marquis to create some distance between them. The confined space of the limousine only seemed to amplify her unease.

The Marquis, seemingly undeterred by Yn's reluctance, continued to engage her in conversation. He spoke about the casino's operations, his travels, and various aspects of his glamorous life. Yn responded with polite nods and brief answers, trying her best to keep the conversation at arm's length.

"You seem tense, ma lapine," the Marquis observed, a hint of curiosity and smugness in his eyes. "Is it the anticipation of what lies ahead?"

Yn hesitated, her mind racing to come up with a suitable response. She couldn't reveal her true concerns, the weight of the consequences she had shouldered for Amelia's sake. Instead, she opted for a lie that would redirect the conversation away from her personal predicament.

"No, sir... It's just... I'm worried about what Mr. Malone will think about my sudden absence," Yn replied, her voice tinged with anxiety. "He's a strict man when it comes to punctuality."

The Marquis's lips curled into a knowing smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. His voice carried a hint of something dark as he reassured her, "Ah, don't worry. I have told Malone. He understands the importance of our personal... affair this evening."

As he finished speaking, the Marquis placed his hand on Yn's knee, his touch lingering longer than necessary. Yn's discomfort surged, and she instinctively shifted her knee away from his grasp, her gaze fixed on a distant point outside the window.

The Frenchman withdrew his hand, a faint smirk playing on his lips as if he found it amusing to see how uncomfortable Yn appeared because of him. The air inside the limousine grew heavier, the tension palpable, as Yn felt anxious about what she did.

Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She knew she had to play her part, but the Marquis' advances were testing her resolve. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. But her heart was pounding, and her palms were slick with sweat. Somehow, she had to survive the next few hours with this man, and she didn't know if she could do it.

As the limousine glided through the city streets, Yn's mind was in overdrive, trying to assure herself that she would finish her part of the deal with dignity still intact by the end of this evening. She couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped, and the Marquis's touch made her skin crawl.

Just then, the limousine came to a stop, and Yn's heart skipped a beat. She realized as she stared out the window that they were located somewhere remote and halted in front of a huge mansion that screamed filthy rich. The door by the Marquis' side was opened by the bodyguard, and he stepped out, offering his hand to Yn to help her out of the car.

Yn hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, feeling a shiver run down her spine as his fingers curled around hers. She stepped out of the limousine, her heels clicking against the pavement as she stood beside the Marquis. She looked up at the mansion, awe-struck by its grandeur and magnificence. It was a stark contrast to the city streets they had just left behind.

Another thing she easily perceived was the great number of bodyguards outside the building. They were all dressed in grey suits, and some of them were women. Their faces were masked with stoic expressions and gazes that can’t be read. They stared straight ahead while they stood in two straight and even lines, a path leading from the limousine to the grand entrance of the mansion.

"Welcome to my humble abode, ma lapine," the Marquis suddenly spoke up, giving out his arm to signify her to grab it. He added, "We have time to spare so I will show you around."

Yn was speechless as she subconsciously grabbed his arm. The Marquis led the way to the front door and passed his numerous bodyguards. Once they stepped inside thanks to two more bodyguards opening the door for them, Yn felt as if she had been transported to another world.

The interior of the mansion was breathtaking, with ornate decorations and furnishings that exuded elegance and sophistication. The Marquis gave her a grand tour, showcasing his collection of art, antiques, and exotic possessions from his travels around the world.

Yn's face lit up, giving her a dreamy and radiant expression, as she took in the grandeur of the mansion. Her eyes sparkled with admiration and awe, and her mouth opened slightly in amazement. The Marquis watched her with a proud and pleased expression, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes darted from Yn to the various objects around the mansion, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction to each one.

As they walked through the hallways, Yn couldn't help but feel intimidated by the opulence of it all. She felt like an outsider, out of place in this world of extravagance and luxury. The Marquis seemed to revel in her discomfort, his voice dripping with smugness and confidence as he pointed out various artifacts and paintings, as if showing off his wealth and power.

But the tour eventually came to an end as they reached a set of doors that led to a private wing of the mansion. The Marquis turned to Yn with a glint in his eye that made her heart skip a beat.

"Shall we retire to my bedroom, ma lapine?" he asked, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

Yn's breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively stepped back, her eyes wide with fear and panic. She was about to protest when the Marquis chuckled in amusement. He told her, "I was kidding. But, come. It's time to see your part of the deal. We would have that private dinner in my bedroom, on the balcony."

Yn let out a sigh of relief. She followed him to the private wing of the mansion, her mind racing with thoughts. She wondered what kind of dinner the Marquis had planned for them since everything inside this mansion was majestic and rich. She looked to the side to see it was his loyal bodyguard still tailing them from behind.

As they entered the bedroom, Yn was struck by its opulence. The room was spacious, with a king-sized bed in the middle and a balcony overlooking the city. The walls were adorned with gold-framed paintings, and the furniture was made of the finest wood.

The Marquis gestured towards the balcony, where a candlelit table was set up with silverware and crystal glasses. Yn could smell the delicious aroma of food wafting through the air.

The Marquis pulled out a chair for Yn and seated her before taking his own seat across from her. The bodyguard stood behind the Marquis, watching their every move with a scrutinizing gaze. Yn felt the cool breeze on her face as she took in the breathtaking view of the city skyline. The Marquis poured her a glass of wine, and they began to eat the sumptuous meal that had been laid out in front of them.

The food was exquisite, and Yn couldn't help but feel in awe of this experience. She had never tasted anything like these before, and she savored every bite. The Marquis watched her with a satisfied expression, his eyes drinking in her beauty as she ate.

Yn was acutely aware of the Marquis's gaze on her, and it made her uneasy even amidst the lavishness of the setting. She maintained a composed facade, gracefully savoring each morsel, though her mind was racing with conflicting emotions and thoughts.

"So, enlighten me, Yn," the Marquis began as he put down his utensils and leaned against the backrest of his chair. One of his legs was resting atop the other and both of his arms were placed on the armrests. He asked, "Do your parents work?"

Yn's heart sank for a moment, realizing that the Marquis was delving into personal territory. It was a topic she preferred to keep tightly guarded, as it held painful memories and private struggles. She had learned to navigate life without the support of her father, and her mother's illness was a burden she carried with a heavy heart.

Besides that, she knew she had to be careful with her responses, as revealing too much could give him leverage over her. She chose her words carefully, attempting to deflect the conversation away from her family.

"My mother doesn't work," she replied, deciding not to divulge the whole truth about her family situation. "She's staying at home, and I help take care of her."

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by her response. "That must be quite challenging for you, balancing your responsibilities here and at home."

"It has its difficulties, but I manage," she replied quietly. She hoped that by ending the topic fast, she could avoid any further probing questions.

But the Marquis was an astute and perceptive man, and he seemed to sense her evasion. He leaned in slightly, his eyes locked onto hers as one eyebrow of his rose, and he asked, "What about your father, hmm?"

Yn's heart raced, and she could feel her palms becoming clammy. She had not expected him to inquire about her father, and her mind raced to find a suitable response that wouldn't give away too much. The truth about her father's infidelity and their broken family was too personal and painful to share with a stranger like the Marquis.

"My father..." Yn hesitated, searching for the right words. "He's not in the picture. My mother and I manage just fine."

The Marquis studied her carefully, his dark eyes seemingly piercing through her facade. She could feel his gaze weighing on her, and she instinctively looked down, pretending to be absorbed in her food.

"I see," the Marquis said, his voice dropping slightly lower. "You've had to shoulder such responsibilities at a young age."

Yn nodded, not trusting herself to speak further. She tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, hoping to divert his attention from prying into her personal life.

"What about you, sir?" she asked, trying to sound genuinely curious. "You must have a family of your own?"

The Marquis chuckled as if amused by the question. He replied, "Ah, my life is rather... complicated. Let's just say that I have my responsibilities as well. Still, I find ways to entertain myself through them."

He flashed a knowing smile, making it clear that he had no intention of divulging his personal life either. Yn felt a shiver run down her spine as she pondered the hidden meaning behind his words. The Marquis was a mysterious man, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease around him. She remembered Sophia, one of her coworkers at the casino, saying that she had heard of the Marquis being involved in the underworld. She thought: Could it be that he was referring to those kinds of responsibilities?

She tried to shake off her discomfort and focus on the present moment, savoring the exquisite food and enjoying the opulent surroundings.

As they continued their dinner, the conversation remained more on the surface, discussing general topics like art, culture, and the city's social scene. Yn was relieved that the Marquis seemed to have let go of prying into her personal life, but she remained cautious, knowing that he was a master manipulator.

Yn realized that navigating this evening would be a delicate dance, a constant balancing act between protecting her secrets and playing along with the Marquis's advances. She knew she had to tread carefully, as one wrong step could have dire consequences for herself and those she cared about.

After dessert, just as a few bodyguards came in and cleaned up the dishes, the Marquis suddenly called for the bodyguard who was always accompanying him, "Chidi."

Yn shot a glance at the bodyguard whom she then knew his name. Chidi advanced forward till he stood next to the Marquis. That's when she saw it. A medium-sized velvet box was given to the Marquis. Chidi then backed away and, for some reason, exited the bedroom wordlessly.

The Marquis uncrossed his legs, leaned closer to the table, and placed it there, pushing it closer to Yn. She was puzzled and made no move or utter a word as she stared at him quizzically. The Frenchman's corners of his lips turned upward as he told her, "For you. You may open it."

Yn's curiosity was piqued as the Marquis urged her to open the velvet box. With a mixture of intrigue and caution, she delicately lifted the lid, revealing its contents. Inside the box lay an exquisite piece of jewelry nestled inside—a minimalist rose gold pearl necklace. Yn was thoroughly captivated by it as her eyes widened in awe.

"It's beautiful," Yn whispered, her voice clearly filled with admiration. She was dazzled by the craftsmanship and elegance of the necklace, unable to deny its undeniable allure.

The Marquis leaned back in his chair, observing her reaction with a smirk. He commented smoothly, "It's a rare piece, just like you."

She could not find it in herself to touch the piece of jewelry so she closed the lid and carefully placed it on the table. Yn’s expression was one of shock as her wide eyes gazed at the handsome Marquis as if she was looking for answers in his face. Her lips were slightly parted and there was a glimmer of wonder in her gaze, as she struggled to comprehend the thoughtful gift that he just bestowed upon her.

Yn's mind was in a whirlwind of emotions. The gift was exquisite, and a part of her was drawn to its beauty, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. It was too extravagant, too much for her to accept from a man she hardly knew. The weight of his intentions and the underlying implications of his gesture pressed upon her.

"Sir, I... I appreciate your gesture," Yn began, her voice filled with uncertainty. "But this necklace, it's too much for me. I can't accept such a gift."

The Marquis leaned forward, his eyes locked onto hers with unwavering intensity. His voice was silky and persuasive as he said, "Beauty deserves to be adorned and cherished. This necklace is a reflection of the allure and elegance I see in you. I insist you accept it."

Yn's heart fluttered at his words, his charm and flattery momentarily clouding her judgment. She was drawn to his words, the way he made her feel seen and valued. But she couldn't ignore the nagging voice of caution in her mind, reminding her of the potential consequences of accepting such a gift from a man of his stature and reputation. She felt like if she accepted it, she would delve into a dark abyss where she would be more involved with the mysterious Marquis.

Suddenly, the Marquis stood up from his seat without giving her enough time to properly mull over her decision. She remained in her seat, looking up at the Frenchman with doe eyes of innocence and curiosity as he strode to her side. He then reached out his hand and spoke, "Let me put it on you."

Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. But the Marquis' persuasive and confident demeanor, along with the allure of the necklace, won her over. She extended her hand and placed it on the open palm the Marquis offered to her, allowing him to guide her to her feet. As she stood before him, she felt a surge of vulnerability coursing through her veins.

He then pulled her gently a few steps away from the table. Once she stood at a spot, he turned her around till she was facing the grand view from the balcony overlooking the city. After grabbing the velvet box on the candlelit table, the Marquis approached her, his fingers delicately grasping the necklace.

He stood behind her, his presence enveloping her in warmth. Yn's heart raced as his fingers lifted her hair, exposing the nape of her neck. Breeze blew softly against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

The Marquis then fastened the clasp of the necklace, his fingers brushing against her skin in the process and the coolness of the pearls meeting the warmth of Yn's skin. She couldn't help but catch her breath, feeling the weight of the necklace settle around her neck like a shackle.

Yn touched the pearls with her fingertips, feeling the weight of the necklace against her skin. It was undoubtedly a stunning piece, and she couldn't deny the small surge of pleasure it brought her. But alongside that pleasure was a sense of unease, a lingering feeling that accepting this gift would intertwine her fate with the enigmatic Marquis in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.

"Thank you," Yn murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's beautiful. But I don't know if I could accept this."

All of a sudden, she felt large hands grasping her shoulders from behind. She knew without a doubt that it was the Marquis who was still standing behind her. Trepidation coursed through her body, freezing the warm feelings she got from the necklace. She then heard his voice from behind, "Take it. It's a gift, and I want you to always wear it."

Yn could feel his breath on the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The silence was all she could provide him as a reply as she started to tremble in his grip. That was when she felt something press against her bare shoulder, then a smacking noise followed. She did not have to glance over to know that the Marquis was placing kisses there.

Yn's heart raced with fear as the Marquis continued to place kisses on her bare skin. His hands trailed down her arms in a possessive manner, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She could feel the weight of the necklace around her neck, acting as a physical reminder of the Marquis' hold on her.

His kisses gradually trailed from her shoulder to her neck. He began planting kisses around the area in a slow, methodical manner, his fingers gently caressing her arms in the process. Yn could feel her heart racing, unable to find her voice to speak up. She could only bite her lip and continue to listen to the smacking noises as he began to nibble on her neck.

"Stop..." Yn managed to mutter, her breath hitching in her throat.

But the Marquis was relentless in his assault, his lips continuing to trail down her neck. Suddenly, his hands drifted to her arms and gently grasped them. Instinctively, Yn attempted to pull her arms away and move away from him, but she was met with his unyielding grip around her arms.

"Don't resist," she heard the Marquis murmuring as his lips neared her nape.

Her heart raced, fear coursing through her veins. She could feel his warm breath and his lips against her neck, and she could hear his words in her ear. The adrenaline rush coursed through her body as she tried to push the Marquis away from her.

But it was all in vain. The Marquis was too strong and bigger than she was, and her resistance only aroused him more. Yn could feel his lips moving to the side of her neck, where she felt teeth clamp on her skin. She struggled to free herself from the man's hold, a faint scream escaping her lips.

"Stop!" she raised her voice, still trapped by him, "This is not part of our deal! It's supposed to be just a dinner!"

Suddenly, the Marquis let go of her and he withdrew his head. Yn immediately moved away from him and spun around to face him. Her face contorted with rage, her eyes wide and her lips forming a tight line. Her cheeks flushed red and her fists were clenched as she stared at the Marquis with a look of utter disdain.

The Marquis' face had a look of satisfaction, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes glazed with lust. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he adjusted his suit and brushed off his jacket. He seemed arrogant and in control with every movement he made. He then met Yn's gaze.

"Ah, our deal," he nodded as his lips curved upside down in amusement for a fleeting moment, "You're right."

Yn stared at him while breathing heavily before she moved to rush past him. She exited the balcony and strode speedily towards the door of the bedroom. She opened the door aggressively, wanting to just leave this building as soon as possible when she halted abruptly in her track.

Chidi was standing in the middle of the doorway, blocking the exit. He stood with his hands grasping one another in front of his body. His eyes were narrowed and his face was solemn as he looked down at Yn, looking completely unsurprised to see her about to rush off. It's as if he had expected her.

The sound of calm footsteps approaching them from behind her made Yn turn around with eyes widening in fear. The Marquis sauntered toward them, his hands still tucked into his pockets, his dark gaze still boring into her. Yn held her breath as she felt completely trapped on the spot despite how huge the mansion was.

"You are forgetting one thing, ma lapine," the Marquis spoke up as he removed his rich red jacket, fully revealing him in the black waistcoat. He then tossed the piece of clothing to the side uncaringly. Then he added to Yn, "The deal is a private dinner with me until I am satisfied. And now..."

He paused to loosen up his necktie from around his neck, and he continued in a dark tone, "I have yet to be satisfied."

Feeling the Marquis' hungry gaze on her, Yn trembled timidly as she looked at the ground. She then scowled at him and said with slight indignation in her tone, "You twist the deal."

"Not at all," answered the Frenchman as he advanced closer to her, "I said exactly that and you agreed. That's our deal, and you haven't fulfilled that part yet. Your friend could still very well be fired now."

Yn frowned in terror and she stared wide-eyed at him. Her heart raced and she felt a chill run down her spine as her blood turned cold. She was so stunned that she couldn't even see the Marquis coming to her and wrapping his arms around her.

He pulled her close to his chest and Yn's heart jumped into her throat at the sudden closeness. The Marquis looked down at her face and the gleam in his eyes seemed to darken. He then leaned in closer to her face and pressed his lips on hers.

His lips were warm and supple. Yn could feel his warm breath on her face and she could smell his scent - a masculine one that smelt of spice and something else that Yn couldn't name. She could feel him, too - his front body against hers, his lips on her own, and his arms encircling her waist.

The feel of his body touching hers overwhelmed her so much that she finally struggled in his embrace. She yelled against his lips, "No! Don't touch me!"

The Marquis responded immediately by clutching her jaw with his hand and pulling her face closer to his. Yn gasped in shock and he took that chance to deepen the kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue, as his other hand traveled her body, caressing her buttocks before it raised up the bottom of her dress.

That's when she heard the door shutting behind her. She thrashed around in his grip and managed to look over her shoulder to see that Chidi had closed the door and left the two of them. Her heart thudded in her ribcage at the sight and she couldn't help but panic.

"Let me go!" she yelled, struggling vehemently and pushing the man away by his chest.

However, she was stunned to silence when the Marquis grabbed her by the jaw forcefully and tugged her close to his face. His rage-filled eyes glared down at her, the shadow projecting over them making them appear even more ominous, as his mouth was in a straight slash with immense contempt.

"You're forgetting the deal," he hissed through his gritted teeth, "But if you want, I could let you go. But I will call Malone and tell him that your precious friend is fired! And since you disobey me, I will cut your earning!"

Yn froze in an instant, her eyes widening like saucers as she stared back at him in absolute disbelief and horror. No. She could not have the money she earned from the casino cut at this moment. Not when she was so close to paying the full amount of her mother's medical bills. Not when her mother's life's on the line. Not when her mother seemed so sick recently.

But she couldn't believe how far the Marquis would go to achieve what he desired. She could see his eyes burning with desire and his grip on her jaw tightened as if to physically make her submit to his whims. One of her hands instinctively grabbed the forearm of the hand that held her jaw. She stared at him wide-eyed with a frown of stupefaction as she pondered.

The Marquis glared down at her before his eyes relaxed due to realization and confusion. He noticed right away how she froze in his grip and how scared she was when he said he would cut her earning. Her reaction intrigued him and he wondered if she took the casino job only for the huge pay she would earn. But for what, he did not know. However, he then knew for sure that his threat about money had a good hold on her.

She was so scared that her hands started to tremble and her vision blurred over. She felt her heart pounding in her chest and her breath became shallow and quick. She felt something wet running down her cheek, but she brushed it off as sweat. That was until the Marquis brought his other hand to her face and gently wiped it with his thumb.

"If you don't want it to be cut," he said, a dark smile on his face, "Then do as I say and it won't be."

Yn shed more tears as she loosened up in his hold. The Marquis noticed this and slowly let her jaw go before he pulled her into his chest, embracing her in a mock show of affection. His arms went around her waist and he pressed the length of her body against his.

"Do not fret," the Marquis said, his mouth beside her ear, "There's no need for tears. I'll be gentle."

She made no move to hug him back as a few more tears rolled down her cheeks as the horrifying predicament of the situation dawned on her. She couldn't let the Marquis do a pay cut to her earning from the casino. She needed the money badly. She had to endure one or two more months to collect the full amount of money to pay her mother's medical bills. Cutting her earning would make the process slower and her mother's life was at stake then.

Plus, the last time she saw her mother, the latter seemed so frail. It's as if death had gotten so close to her this time. If the Marquis cut off her earning and slowed the whole process down, would her mother still be alive?

She couldn't let that happen. She was so close. She couldn't jeopardize it.

Yn then looked up to stare at the smug Frenchman. Her glassy doe eyes gazed at him and she thought: If she gives him what he wants, he would leave her alone, right? He would not chase her around again.

The Marquis was pleased to her staring at him with those eyes. He then gently brushed off her tears with his thumbs and said in a low voice, "Don't fight me on this. It's for tonight only, okay?"

Yn wiped away her tears with her hand and she gave a small nod in response. She was so teary-eyed that she couldn't meet the Marquis' eyes.

The Marquis smirked in victory before he brought her chin up with his hand, leaned in, and kissed her again. This time, Yn didn't struggle like before and she let him kiss her. She shut her eyes and let out a whimper at his soft touch. She felt him pressing her against him as his kisses grew aggressive and impatient.

She felt his hands roam her body as if on their own will. But before long, she felt that gentle touch and the small tingles of his fingers trailing down her arms. She felt a shiver go down her spine when his hands reached down her back and then picked up the bottom of her dress. She was surprised when she felt his hands grope her ass, squeezing and feeling her there, leaving her skin electrified. He did so over and over again until she felt his fingers delve down past her buttocks and rub against her pussy through the panties.

He kissed her so sloppily because he was more focused on his fingers rubbing against her pussy. His tongue had invaded her mouth and dominated hers easily as she gasped at the foreign sensation he did down there.

That's when she felt her panties being moved to the side. For the first time in her life, Yn felt a foreign object rub against the lips of her pussy. She flinched and twitched at the sensation but the Marquis did not relent and he kept rubbing his fingers against her slit, all the while locking his lips with hers incessantly. She was left to lean her whole body fully against his chest as she let out a breathy moan, her tears brimming her eyes as she trembled in his arms.

The Marquis was relentlessly rubbing against her clit and it sent pleasure surging through her body. She was forced to moan into his mouth as she put both of her hands on his chest for something to grip on. She felt a lot of things were happening. Her mouth was thoroughly sucked and dominated by his while her clit was caressed violently by his fingers. She had never felt so suffocated by many sensations, and one thing she could focus on was the nagging pleasure.

She felt her pussy getting wetter by the second. She felt a strange new feeling, one she couldn't describe. A sound that was not human, but rather the primal call of a female, then escaped her lips.

The Marquis picked up the sound and he then continued to lick and suck her lips even more, forcing out more moans from the lady. He felt her whole body shudder in his arms with every move he made, and it was a sight to behold. He lapped at Yn's lips and drank her sweet saliva as he continued toying with her pussy, finding out what gave her the most pleasure.

She knew it was wrong. What he was doing was wrong. She knew she should hate it. But it just felt so amazingly good. The pleasure was getting stronger and stronger and she felt herself getting close to an orgasm. She became tensed in his hold as that sensation got higher and higher. His fingers became swifter too, stubbornly rubbing her pussy and clit with more pressure, and that's when she felt the explosion of a climax.

She moaned lightly as she harshly gripped the Marquis' black waistcoat. Her whole body trembled like leaves due to the orgasm, her mouth was left wide open, giving him easy access to kiss her more fervently. She had subconsciously bent forward, pushing her breasts against his chest as her thighs closed in, leaving his fingers lock against her gushing pussy.

As the climax began to die down, she felt her knees weakening and she was on the verge of collapsing but the Marquis caught her and steadied her. Not only that, he put his hands around her and carried her in bridal style. She was breathing heavily in his arms, her eyes closed, and he stared down at her, enjoying the sight of her flushed face.

She was still coming down from the high of the explosive orgasm when she felt herself being lowered down onto something soft and comfortable. She figured out it was a bed as her hands instinctively grabbed onto the blanket to grip something as she still felt the slowing surge of intense pleasure.

She heard the sound of fabric rustling before something dropped onto the floor. She then felt the straps of her dress on her shoulders being loosened. The dress was pulled down her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps following the trail of the dress. The Marquis pushed the dress down completely and Yn felt it slither off of her body until she lay in only her white lace bra and her plain white panties. She could feel the cold air of the room brush against her exposed skin

She felt the bed shift again as the Marquis got on the bed. Her eyes shot open and she looked towards the source of the movement. She swallowed dryly at the shocking sight. He had gotten rid of his shirt and waistcoat, revealing his upper body fully bare.

He had a strong, muscular physique with distinct chest muscles and a broad, strong back. His abdomen was toned and his arms had visible veins and muscles that rippled as he moves. His skin was smooth, with no blemishes or marks. He had a flat stomach and light six-pack abs that were barely visible against his skin. He had a look of pure lust in his eyes. He stared at Yn's body as if he was going to devour her and it really made her feel naked.

Suddenly, she felt sturdy hands grip her ankles and pull her legs apart. She gripped the blanket tighter as she felt a sudden cool breeze brush against her exposed pussy. She realized that he had just taken off her panties, but she was exhausted and powerless to stop him. She was spread and vulnerable.

The Marquis then went for her bra. He moved his hands underneath her body and unclasped the hook. He then tossed the piece behind him. Her body became exposed to the light of the room. She felt a chill run down her spine as her breasts became exposed to the open air of the room. She felt so shy being naked in front of a man. One she didn't actually know.

He put his hand on each side of her head as he positioned himself in between her legs. She then felt something poking against the entrance of her pussy. Her eyes widened with fear and dread as realization set in. She knew what was going to happen. It was apparently what the Marquis wanted. He had to threaten her to get to this point, and now it was going to be real. She gripped the blanket tighter as she felt the invasion near.

That was when an idea lit up in her head.

“Wait!”

The Marquis was startled by the sudden voice of the girl who had been quiet the whole time. He paused his movements and looked down at her.

Yn knew she could not stop him from this. He would threaten her more and make it clear that he would make her life a miserable one. But she had an idea - one that would at least comfort her inwardly as she spread her legs for him.

She began with a soft and whimpery voice, “Please… After this is done, I want compensation… Because this is too much for me… I don’t do this… I want… All I want is just something to compensate for this…”

Understanding registered in the Marquis’ head. He stared her down as his eyes glimmered with filthy lust that plainly told he was desiring her body. He let out a huge exhale as he queried, "What kind of compensation?"

Yn swallowed dryly before she revealed, "50 thousand dollars. Please. That's all. You can have my body and all I want is just that. If you want, you can... reduce it to 25k... or even 10k."

The Marquis scoffed and he looked like he was about to force himself on her, but Yn was adamant this time. She brought her hands to his cheeks and begged, "Please! This matters so much to me!"

He appeared taken aback by her persistence and the way she held his cheeks in her hands. He regarded her with a long stare and Yn could tell how puzzled he was. She could only hope that he did not question her about it.

However, she was astonished when he let out another sigh before he pursed his lips and said, "Fine. 50 thousand."

Yn was surprised. He thought he would choose to pay her the cheapest amount, but he still went with the highest. It was a lot of money, especially for her who was very much poor. She smiled in relief, but then her smile dropped instantaneously as she felt it.

The Marquis' cock rubbed against the entrance of her wet pussy. She was still extremely tight and he could feel her resisting the slight tightness. He slid his cock upwards, sliding it against her sensitive clit. Yn felt like she was going to die from the pleasure that shot up her body. She whimpered as she felt her clit being rubbed by his cock, and she felt like she was going to explode.

She heard the Marquis say as he leaned closer to her ear, "I'm going to fuck you senseless."

She shivered at those words as she felt him push his cock back downwards, rubbing it against her entrance before pushing it in.

She felt her insides being forced to stretch and fit over his girth, which wasn't a small one. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent scream as he slowly slid his cock into her. She felt her pussy being stretched to the limit, and she felt like she was going to tear soon. The pain was unbearable as he pushed his cock further into her.

She felt like he was tearing her apart and because of the pain, her hands shot up to push against his bare chest. She cried out, "Stop! It hurts!"

The Marquis just looked at her and smirked, "You are full of surprises, ma lapine. You are a virgin."

Yn tried to glare at him but moaned in pain as she did so. Tears began to brim in her eyes as she felt him thrust his cock in deeper. She felt like her insides were going to be torn apart. She let out a cry of pain as she felt her pussy being stretched further to fit his length. She felt like she was about to split open. She felt the Marquis' hands dig into her hips as he pushed more and more of his member inside her until it reached the hilt.

He moaned in pleasure as her tight pussy was wrapped around his penis. He looked down at her expression and saw that one tear had rolled down her cheek. She looked tired and helpless beneath him as her pussy hugged his cock perfectly. He leaned down and licked the teardrop shamelessly.

The pain continued to pierce through Yn's body. She was whimpering, her eyes closing and her teeth sinking into her lower lip. Her hands had stopped pushing against his chest and she laid them down next to her shoulders. She looked up and realized that their missionary position forced her to stare directly at him. She quickly averted her gaze and looked to the side, not wanting to look at him as he got what he wanted.

She felt his cock twitch and jerk as he leaned closer to her. She looked back up to see him staring down at her with a hungry expression. He began to fuck her like that, deep and slow, taking his time in enjoying the tightness of her pussy. He was thrusting in and out of her extremely slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight cunt around his girth. It was a slow rhythm and he seemed to love the feeling of her tight cunt around his cock.

He groaned in pleasure as her face contorted in pain. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream, and her head was moving back and forth upon each thrust. Her hands lay limply upon the bed as she lay there, taking his thrusts. She felt him pulling her against him with each thrust as he began to pick up his speed bit by bit.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to whimper in pain. She felt like she was being split in two, and the pain was excruciating.

The Marquis just continued to fuck her, thrusting into her as he leaned down and began to lick and suck on her breasts. His tongue licked over her nipples, gently stimulating them as they hardened. He sucked on them and played with them as he continued to thrust into her in a rhythm that gradually sped up.

Yn let out a loud moan as she felt him continue to trace licking over her nipples. They were hardening under his touch and she was beginning to feel pleasure from his tongue. It felt like the Marquis was doing this to purposefully drive her insane. He continued to toy with her nipples with his mouth.

Her pussy tightened even more as that pleasure from her breasts flowed through her body. She moaned lightly as she experienced a mixture of pain and pleasure. She felt overwhelmed by a lot of mixed sensations. It was like pain and pleasure combining into this toxic liquid that surged throughout her body and she couldn't think clearly. She felt like she wanted to take it or run.

The Marquis was groaning in pleasure as he felt the incredible tightness of her pussy. He was driving himself crazy with the pleasure that her pussy provided.

He was patient. Patient enough. He had taken his time to make her his, and now that she was here beneath him, he was going to enjoy it. He was going to fuck her senseless until all she could do was moan. He continued to thrust deep into her pussy, his hips pumping against her soft ass. He thrust forward and pulled out, stretching her pussy with his girth and length. He pushed himself in and out of her, rotating his hips and thrusting strongly into her.

Eventually, his pace became harder and faster. Yn gasped and moaned as he began to thrust in rougher. He raised his upper body, his hands grasped tightly onto her hips and he controlled her hips to his liking. He was pounding into her with force and vigor, and both of their bodies were colliding together. Her pussy felt like it was on fire with the rough fucking he was giving her.

Yn was moaning and staring up at him in shock. She felt it. The tip of his cock rammed against the entrance of her womb repeatedly. It sort of hurt yet pleasurable at the same time. He was filling her up, his cock throbbing within her as he fucked her fast. She could feel his heartbeat inside her and it was racing just as fast as she.

Yn watched as his body glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing and his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was fucking her with so much force, so much strength. His large hands held her hips tightly as he slammed into her with ferocity. She felt him pounding his cock into her, his hips colliding with her ass, and her legs around his waist swinging wildly in the air following his movements. He was taking her hard like she was his fucktoy.

She felt his cock hitting the entrance of her womb as he continued to pound into her. She moaned in pleasure despite the mixture of pain and pleasure. She was sweating under him, her pussy walls tightening around his cock as he continued to plow her.

The Marquis was a powerful figure, his body slick with sweat, muscle tensing and bulging as he thrust and pounded into her. His hands grasped fiercely onto her hips, controlling her movements as he dominated her. His hips moved in a rapid rhythm, ramming into her rear with pummeling energy that sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body.

There was a mix of pheromones in the air, a musky scent of aroused bodies entwined that filled the room. Yn could smell his sweat, mixed with her own as they moved together and heated up the atmosphere around them.

His grunting and moaning matched hers as they collided together, their genitals slapping together like thunder amidst a violent storm. His breaths were labored as he pushed himself harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin overlapping with his grunts and hers.

Yn bounced up and down the bed as her breasts and the necklace swung wildly with her motion. She moaned, at this point, the pain had subsided as if her pussy had gotten used to the stretch and the violent thrusts of the cock inside her. Her hand was gripping the sheet hard on each side of her head. The way she looked beneath him was exquisite to the Marquis as she let him violate her like a toy.

That's when she realized that he was watching her. He leaned down, placing each forearm of his on each side of her head, and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Yn moaned as his tongue dominated her from the inside. She swore she felt her eyes roll up in pleasure and suffocation upon feeling the Marquis ravish her in two ways - through her wet pussy and her mouth.

He was pounding her pussy roughly in a mating press. Her legs were pressed against her chest by him as he towered over her directly, slamming his cock inside her relentlessly. She moaned with his tongue inside her mouth as she felt his cock pounding against her G-spot, sending pleasurable shocks across her body again and again. She could almost feel his cock throbbing with a rapid beat within her.

The Marquis felt her pussy tighten around his cock, knowing she was nearing her climax. For Yn, it was all too much for her as she felt her body heating up even more. She couldn't take it anymore and she felt a burst of pleasure build up within her body, her gushing pussy walls gripping his cock tightly.

She suddenly tensed up in the mating press, her moans were muffled by his mouth and tongue, as she climaxed beneath him. Her pussy clenched tightly around his cock over and over again.

However, the Marquis did not stop there, despite knowing she was orgasming within his hold, as he continued to ram his cock into her with brutal force. Yn was dumbfounded that he wasn't stopping and she felt so overstimulated and oversensitive since she was still climaxing.

She cried out as she struggled beneath him, attempting to dislodge his cock and flee from the mating press she was pushed in, "Stop! Pull out! I'm still...!"

But the Marquis did not stop. He ignored her cries as he continued to fuck her with force as she thrashed and cried beneath him. He felt the grip of her pussy tighten around his cock, feeling her vagina squirt juices all over his shaft and balls as her cunt continued to spasm and convulse around his cock. He smirked and continued to fuck her, knowing full well about the explosions her female body could muster.

His cock continued to pound against her G-spot, overloading her senses and overwhelming her mind. It almost felt like she was on the verge of passing out from all the pleasure and pain in her body. She kept struggling in vain to get him off her, but he was too strong, her body was weak and feeble compared to his.

That's when she experienced her second orgasm, a powerful and strong wave of bliss and pleasure coursed through her body, exploding from her pussy and spreading throughout her entire body. She screamed and her eyes were rolling up as she experienced a powerful one. Her body was trembling and twitching under the Marquis' hold. Her pussy spasmed tightly around his cock with such intensity and power that she swore she saw stars.

But the Marquis wasn't done yet. He fucked her with her pussy juices lubricating his cock, thrusting deeper and harder into her with each thrust. His cock was overstimulated by her second orgasm and she felt the man's cock twitch and pulse clearly inside her pussy walls.

Despite the hazy cloud of the climax, the realization fell upon her like bricks as she understood what was going to happen soon. She immediately yelled, pushing against his chest yet again, "Pull out! Don't cum inside!"

But all her attempts at fighting him were in vain. He was too strong and she was too weak. He didn't stop or pull out despite her pleas and cries as he continued pounding his cock into her harshly. She weakly tried to push against his chest while feeling the way his cock rammed in and out of her squelching pussy.

The Marquis grabbed the hands that were attempting to push him and pinned them against the bed on each side of her head, rendering her helpless. She weakly struggled, but he ignored her and slammed his cock against her g-spot. His grip on her wrists was too tight and she was too weak to fight him.

Suddenly, the Marquis slammed hard and stopped deep within her. He groaned loudly as he pressed more into her. That's when she felt it. Yn cried out; her entire body shaking as he climaxed within her. His cock twitched and pulsed as he shot his seed into her womb. She felt the hot seed coat her womb and fill her like hot water filled a glass.

She cried out in despair as she felt his seed fill her completely. Her pussy spasmed around his cock as her body continued to convulse as she was still climaxing. She didn't know why she was still climaxing, but she felt like her entire body was on fire and she was filled with ecstasy.

"No!" she cried out, "No! Pull out! Pull out! Please!"

But that only spurred the Marquis on. He groaned again, this time releasing her wrists and gripping her hips tightly, pulling her deep against him as he emptied his hot seed deep within her womb. He grunted as he continued to come in her warm and tight pussy. He filled her pussy up to the brim and kept shooting into her.

She felt his hot cum fill her pussy, gushing into her and painting her womb white. The male finally stopped cumming after a few more shots within her. He pushed himself off her with his cock still firmly embedded within her pussy. He sat in between her legs and looked at the woman he had taken. He looked at her with a sinister and satisfied smile.

She turned her head away from him and felt tears building up in her eyes. She clenched her pussy tightly around his cock in an attempt to get him to pull out. But the Marquis gripped her thighs tightly, still embedded deeply in her pussy, keeping her legs spread. It's like he was keeping his cum inside her.

He finally pulled out after a long time with a loud wet noise, leaving her gaping pussy open and exposed. Her legs remained spread wide before him. He smirked as he took in the sight of her trembling pussy, still twitching gently. Soon enough, his sperm dribbled out of her hole. Her pussy and her inner thighs were coated with blood since he had plucked her virginity. Her juices were also dripping out of her used pussy, a mixture of hers and his seed.

Yn trembled, her body still convulsing lightly as she was still coming down from her climax. She glanced to see that the Frenchman was still gazing at her abused pussy and she looked away, feeling humiliated enough. She did not see that the Marquis was stroking his drenched cock.

She looked to the side, looking at a window that revealed how dark it was outside. She began to wonder what time it was and remembered about Sydney. She thought about that little girl being taken care of by Barbara at the moment and she should come home by then.

She was about to get up and search for her dress when the Marquis suddenly turned her around in bed. She was on her stomach when she made a noise of confusion. The man behind then mounted on her thighs, leaned on her ear, and said huskily, "We are not done yet."

She gasped as she felt his warm flesh pressed up against her rear, feeling his hot cock head pushing against her pussy again. He was still hard as he pushed his cock head against her womanhood. She moaned in protest and tried to move away.

He managed to enter her wet and warm pussy again before he plunged in deep. Yn tried to push herself up with her arms but he leaned into her, holding her down with his body weight. The Marquis moved to her ear and whispered, "I'm not satisfied with you yet."

He simply held her down by the hips and started to thrust into her wet pussy. The mix of his semen and her juices served as a lubricant for his cock and thus creating squelching noises each time he thrust in.

He continued to pound into her as he placed his hands on her waist, controlling her movements to his liking again as he fucked her. He grunted in satisfaction, his balls slapping against her cum-filled pussy as he used her.

Yn, on the other hand, could only lie there helplessly, her eyes closed as she tried to cope with the pleasure and the pain. She was still feeling slightly sensitive from her last orgasm and his large cock was continuing to inch into her sore pussy. She gasped a few times as he continued to slam into her, bending her body over the bed.

She cried out and groaned as he continued to thrust into her helpless and abused pussy. She could feel his cock slam against her cervix and hit that sensitive area within her body. The semen inside her was sloshing around his invasive cock. Her pussy was sore, but somehow the Marquis was still able to build up an orgasm for her.

The Marquis suddenly stopped and pulled out completely. Yn was about to look over her shoulder when he grasped her hips and lifted it up with his strength until her knees held themselves on the bed. Yn was left in the position where his upper body fully rested upon the sheet while her butt was raised in the air.

The man behind her then held her hips and rammed his cock back inside. Yn gasped from the intrusion as she felt his balls slapping against her again. He started ramming himself into her with deep and fast thrusts and she could feel his cock pushing against her cum-filled womb with each thrust. She felt her cunt stretch to the limit as his large cock kept slamming into her.

Her moans and his grunts ricocheted off the walls of the room, punctuated by the wet squelching of their juices and the slapping sound of his flesh against hers. His deep and fast thrusts reverberated through her body, every movement sending pleasure and pain mixed together in a potent cocktail. There were no pauses, just an unstoppable rhythm as she felt herself being pushed ever closer to the edge as he fucked and used her like she was his cum-dumpster.

She could feel his cock slam against her cervix repeatedly again and it wasn't even a minute when she felt an orgasm building up in her pussy. She cried out in pleasure and tried to escape but the Marquis held her down tightly.

"No! P-Please! No!" she screamed as she was pinned to the bed by one of his hands on her back.

The Marquis groaned and pounded into her again and again as he felt her pussy tighten around his cock. Yn screamed into the sheets as another orgasm exploded from her bottom, causing her to tremble violently beneath him. Her pussy lips were spread open due to the deep thrusts and she could feel her juices squirting out, drenching his cock and crotch.

Her orgasm seemed to spur him on as he thrust even harder. He finally let out a loud groan and came again as he continued to thrust into her, albeit this time sloppily. His cock was pulsing inside her with his orgasm as he delivered a few final thrusts into her vagina. His cum flooded her even more than before as most of his semen from the previous round was still inside her.

The Marquis continued to pin her on the bed until they were both spent and exhausted. Soon enough, he pulled out of her flooded pussy and she felt a gush of cum flowing from her abused pussy. She could feel it running down her thighs and for her, it felt so sinful. She had never thought she would lose her virginity like this - so violent yet pleasurable.

Feeling utterly exhausted, her knees collapsed and she dropped her hips onto the bed, the motion caused the juices inside her to spill more onto her inner thigh and bedsheet. That's when she felt hands pulling her. The Marquis, who was lying on the bed next to her, grabbed her closer to his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist and her head was tucked under his chin. The both of them were facing one another and both were completely worn out and sleepy.

"Vincent..."

Yn forced her eyes open, staring at the skin on his neck, and wondered what he meant by that.

As if sensing her bewilderment despite not looking at her face, he drawled out more with his eyes closed, "Vincent Bisset de Gramont... my name..."

Yn did not respond as she stared ahead into space. She wanted nothing more than to get up and run off, but after having two rounds of being fucked like a breeding toy, she also wanted to sleep right then and there. She was still feeling the effects of her multiple orgasms and she wondered if she'll ever be able to walk again.

But, she thought: If the Marquis honor her words and give her 50 thousand dollars as promised, then she would have more than enough money to pay for her mother's hospital treatments. The remaining money would be saved and used for her family's future.

She could finally quit her job at the casino after this and never have to lay eyes on the Marquis again.

PREV : Chapter 03

NEXT : Chapter 05

Story Masterlist

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#tw dubcon #tw noncon #female reader #john wick chapter 4 #marquis de gramont #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #marquis x reader #reader insert #vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont x reader

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krisdreaming · 1 year

Text

One Week

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

Summary: You and Kuroo decide to spend the week leading up to your wedding sleeping apart. After all, it will make your wedding night feel that much more special, right?

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Hopefully the text message format I used makes sense 😬 This is 100% inspired by an episode of How I Met Your Mother in which Marshall and Lily do this exact thing. Tbh it's my comfort show and this is like my 5th time watching it, and when the episode came around, the fic idea hit me like a truck. ALSO there is a small reference to one of my old past fics in here, and if you get it you're a real one.

By the time you get to your best friend and maid of honor's apartment, it's late. The whole day had been spent putting together all of the favors and décor for your wedding, now only one week away. You're so exhausted you feel like you could fall asleep on your feet right here in the entryway, but she pulls you the rest of the way inside, wrestling your bag through the door after you.

"Geez!" She huffs. "Why's this so heavy? You didn't pack Tetsurou in here, did you?"

You roll your eyes. "A week is a long time! I had to pack a lot of stuff. Besides, bringing him would kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" You raise an eyebrow. This had initially been your idea, after all. You thought that spending the week before your wedding away from each other would make the night of your wedding that much more special. Since you already live together, you figured some time apart would probably do you good, anyway.

"I suppose it would," She agrees, "But I know how you two are." You narrow your eyes at her, but before you can respond, she's already tugging you toward the living room.

"I've got the sofa bed all ready for you," She announces with a proud flourish, and you feel almost like you could collapse just at the sight of it. It's full of fluffy blankets and two giant pillows, and she's even generously loaned you one of her plushies.

"It looks like heaven," You groan, stifling a yawn. "I'm wiped."

"So am I," She agrees, fighting back a yawn of her own. "Guess we'll have to save the sleepover girl talk for tomorrow night," She shrugs. "It'll be just like middle school all over again!" She loops her arm through yours, and you can't help but giggle at the thought. The two of you sure did share some wild sleepovers back in the day. "Alright," She finally says, "I'll see you in the morning."

When you're finally ready for bed, you crawl under the covers happily. You snuggle into the pillows as you cocoon into the blankets, trying not to think about how strange it is to be lying in bed all alone for once. There's no warm body wrapped around yours, and not even your cat to curl up against you. "Guess it's you and me, Mr. Unicorn," You murmur as you tug the plush into your arms, giving in easily to the exhaustion pulling on you.

The next day is busy enough at work. You're only working for the first two days this week, having taken the rest of the week off to focus on the wedding prep. Between tying up all of your loose ends at work and the mental to-do list you keep adding tasks to, the day passes with very little thought of Tetsurou. It's not until you're laying in your sofa bed that night after a movie and snacks that it starts to hit you.

You hug the unicorn plush close again, but you're very aware of the absence of your fiancé. You're so used to his arms around you at night, his nose pressed into the nape of your neck.

Maybe it's silly, but with all of the stress starting to weigh down on you, you find yourself missing the comfort of his presence much more than you'd anticipated. With a sigh, you roll onto your back and reach for your phone. Your thumbs only hover for a moment before you hit send.

I miss you

It isn't long before your screen lights up with a reply.

You literally saw me yesterday you weirdo

Is it bad that even that teasing sentence brings you some sort of strange comfort? You're just about to type a reply when another message comes through.

Which is why it's so ridiculous that I miss you too

You can't help the smile that steals across your face at that. For some reason, the knowledge that he's feeling the same things you're feeling lessens the ache a bit.

It's dumb

You feel confident in saying it, now that you have this thread of connection with him.

You said it, not me

Comes his cheeky reply, quickly followed with,

Mittens won't leave me alone. I think he thinks I murdered you and disposed of the body.

You almost chuckle aloud at that.

Poor guy, he misses me too 🥺 and honestly, his fears are valid

You curl up on your side, holding your phone close.

Uncalled for

And then

I'm about to fall sleep, so I'd better go. I'll see you later this week

You try your best to ignore the disappointment sinking in your gut.

Me too. Goodnight, I love you

His reply comes almost immediately.

I love you too. Night

It's enough to satiate you, anyway. On Friday, only four days away, you'll see him for the rehearsal. That's not really so far away. As you lay there clutching your phone, you can feel your eyes growing heavier.

The next day is just as crazy, as you give your coworkers instructions for your absence and make sure all of your projects have been submitted. After work, you go straight to dinner with your bridesmaids, and the whole evening is spent talking and laughing together.

By the time you make it back to the apartment, you should be so exhausted that you all asleep immediately. You definitely feel it, but from the moment you lay down, the hollow feeling slowly returns to your middle. You hesitate when the thought first occurs to you, but it seems reasonable enough. You'll feel better if you can just hear his voice for a few moments.

"Hey Baby," He answers after two rings.

"Did I wake you up?" You blurt out quickly, instantly feeling guilty and wishing you had just tried to fall asleep.

"Nah," He assures you, "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong," You sputter. "I just-"

"Missed me?" He finishes for you, and the teasing lilt in his voice is almost enough to make you hang upon him on the spot.

"Maybe," You respond petulantly instead, and he laughs. The sound of it, even through the phone, is enough to set you more at ease.

"Who knew you were so clingy," He muses. "Just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Maybe I'll just hang up," You huff.

"Wait," He says a little too quickly, and you smile to yourself. Gotcha. "Mittens wants to say hi, too. You can let him know you're not dead." Suddenly, the phone line is filled with the rumble of your cat's purr.

"Hi baby boy," You croon into the phone, "Dad isn't being nasty to you, is he?"

"You're on speaker," Tetsurou warns as Mittens lets out a small meow, and you laugh. "Plus I'm not his dad," he reminds you as he always does.

"Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself," You laugh again. You're feeling so much lighter, in a good way. As your laughter dies down, you try to hold in a yawn.

"Sounds like you're ready to fall asleep. I know you've got to get up early tomorrow to meet the florist."

"Hm, yeah." You acknowledge begrudgingly.

"It'll be here before you know it," He says softly.

"I know." You hold the phone to your ear for a few moments in silence. "I can't wait."

"Me neither. I love you so much." You can tell he's getting tired because he's getting sappier.

"I love you too, Tetsu."

"Say it again," He says it so low that you almost don't catch it.

"I love you," You repeat. "Good night, Tetsu."

"Good night," He echoes. "Love you, Baby." Even after the line goes dead, you can still feel the smile on your face and the warmth in your middle. As you fall asleep, you set an ultimatum for yourself. For the next two days, you won't contact him at all, just like you'd intended. Piece of cake.

The next day, you hold to your promise. After a busy day spent running here and there, the sofa bed has never felt more comfortable. You resolutely set your phone face down on the end table and close your eyes tight. Tonight, you're not going to break. You're a strong, independent woman. You tell yourself that until the long day finally gets the better of you and you drift off to sleep.

Finally, it's Thursday. One day until the dress rehearsal and you see Tetsurou again. You're proud of yourself. Sure, you'd only made it one night without contacting him, but technically, you haven't seen each other at all. You're going to count that as a win.

You actually have some time to relax before bed, and you and your friend pull out all the stops. She's got an array of face masks, fancy lotions, and even a foot spa she'd pulled out from somewhere. You're just laying out the last of the snacks when your phone dings. It's a message from Tetsurou.

You didn't call yesterday

Very interesting.

Sorry, I didn't know we had an appointment

His reply comes almost immediately.

I'm outside. Come out for a minute?

It's all you can do not to laugh out loud. Still, he came all this way. You shouldn't let it be for nothing. You glance at your friend, mind working quickly to think of a valid reason you'd need to leave the apartment at this time of the evening.

"I'm going to get in the shower," She suddenly announces. You can't believe your luck. Your stint as her roommate proved that she is notorious for taking long showers. "Don't eat all of the Takis before I'm back or else."

"Would I do that?" You ask, hand splayed across your chest indignantly. She shoots you a glare and heads for the bathroom. The moment you hear the shower turn on, you slip on a pair of shoes and you're out the door.

You practically run into Tetsurou the moment you step outside. "Hi," he says sheepishly, with his familiar crooked smile. You launch yourself into his arms, and he immediately holds on tight.

"Hi," You breathe back, finally pulling back enough to look into his face again. "We failed," You say solemnly, before breaking into a grin.

"We did," He agrees, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Spectacularly."

"She's in the shower," You explain quickly, "So I shouldn't really stay too long."

"Alright," He says absently, thumbs tracing a pattern against your hips.

"You didn't bring Mittens, did you?" You crane your neck around him to check for the cat backpack you'd purchased on a whim a few years back.

"Don't be ridiculous," He says drily. You pout, and he kisses it away.

"I missed you," You sigh against his lips despite yourself, and you feel his lips curving into a smile.

"I missed you too." He admits. He pulls back again, and you silently drink him in. "We're getting married in two days," He says candidly.

"We are," You agree, grin threatening to burst off of your face.

"And I'll see you tomorrow at the dress rehearsal," He adds.

"Mmhmm," You nod. You glance at the time. "I should get back inside," You say reluctantly. In response, he pulls you in for one last kiss.

"Goodnight. I love you. So much."

"I love you too. So so much." Before he can one-up you, you pull away and turn back inside. "Goodnight!" You call over your shoulder.

The moment you step through the apartment door, you freeze. Your friend is standing there, arms crossed. "How was Tetsurou?" She asks coolly, a smile playing at the edges of her lips.

You open your mouth, then close it. "I was just getting some fresh air?" You finally say weakly.

"And I'm Albert Einstein." She replies, turning for the couch. "Come on," She pats the cushion next to her, beckoning you forward. "You two are disgusting," She adds as an afterthought. She's shaking her head, but she's smiling.

The next 48 hours are a whirlwind, but at the end of it you find yourself at your wedding reception, seated next to your husband. You'd made it here, and now you feel like you can finally draw a breath.

"Wait, so did you guys actually last the entire week without seeing each other?" Kenma suddenly asks skeptically, looking between the two of you. You glance at Tetsurou. Clearly, he hadn't shared the truth with his best man. Your maid of honor opens her mouth beside you, but you nudge her under the table with the sharp toe of your shoe. Since it is your wedding day, she stays silent.

"Sure did," Tetsurou says, grinning broadly as he slides his arm around your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your skin affectionately. "It was worth it," He adds, pressing a kiss to your temple. You lean into the press of his lips. Yes, it certainly was.

#not proofread well sooo yeah #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo testurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou

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puripurin · 4 months

Note

Shit I forgot to ask last time, can u make Yan artist × the nude model that as one of their many jobs to pay off loans, is a tattoo artist, and Yan artist FaceTime's them to come over, but they say their busy, Yan has to like idk bribe them somehow to get them to come over

— You sighed as you stared at the caller ID before plugging in your headphones into your phone and notifying the client you were tattooing that you were on a call.

"Yes, hello?" You mumbled as you grabbed a tissue to wipe the area you were inking. You really weren't motivated to talk with him as this time you had a shit load of clients throughout the week. You couldn't even decline the call because he will find you and harass you for the entire week, making you lose money and clients that you couldn't afford to lose.

"Ah, my love, you have no idea how greatful I am—"

"Get to the point." Exhibit A of why you don't want to talk to him. It takes forever for him to even get to the point, and he always dramatizes everything.

"Ah, well then. I have another gig for you." You sighed and shook your head, trying to give your utmost attention to the tattoo you were working on.

"No. I can't take it on. I have a lot of clients this week, and I'm not planning to lose sleep for this gi—"

"$10,000."

"What?" You paused before resuming what you were doing, flabbergasted by the amount he was presenting to you.

"$10,000 for the session." You bit your lip as you weighted the pros and cons before sighing. It was what you were going to make in a week, plus you could pay more of your loans off.

"I- okay—"

"THANK YOU, MY LOVE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW—" You ended the call. You'll find out the date you'll have to go later. You don't want to hear him anymore.

Roight. Srry for not adding the facetime part, im not familiar with that.

Also, small head cannon. If you're a tattoo artist and have tattoos, the drawings and paintings in the cum room will be slightly different. Keith (artist yans new name), will draw you with a womb tattoo, even if you don't have one.

Anyways, this is also for the other anon who was asking for another part for artist yan.

!!! I WILL MAKE A MASTERLIST SOON!!!

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere artist #yandere oc x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 10 months

Text

If I Love You Was A Promise

➪the one where james’ brother comes home just when things were falling into place.

Warnings: literally nobody is going to read this - pretty much self indulgent tbfh, spoilers for american heist 2014, swearing, mentions of killing, mentions of drugs, alcohol consumption, arguments, mentions of fighting, mentions of blood/wounds, toxic enviroment overall,

Word Count: 6k | Part 2 , Part 3

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

It was nearing nine when the sound of the front door unlocking was heard, and you smiled to yourself when you heard the heavy footsteps of James as he entered the house.

This was your favorite part of the day, when he comes home and spends the rest of his night with you.

You hear the sound of the door being locked again as you called out, “Hey, I missed you,”

James unbuttons his work shirt and tosses it over the back of one of the chairs. The house was small, so he was standing behind you within three strides and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Missed you,”

You grin and tilt your head to the side when he leaned down to press his lips to your neck. “I’m making your favorite,” you say and feel him hum against your shoulder. “And you smell like motor oil.”

James laughed and lifted his head, his lips pressing to your temple as he mumbled, “Sorry. You get used to that smell once you’ve been around it as long as I have,”

You shrug as he steps away. “I don’t mind it,” you say and watch as he lifts his white undershirt over his head, exposing his toned chest and abs. “You’re sexy, so you get a pass.”

“Thanks, baby,” he grinned at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek before wandering off towards the bathroom.

“You’ve got five minutes until dinner will be ready, so don’t be too long,” you call after him as you stir the ground beef around in the pan. “We both know how grumpy you get when it comes to cold food.”

He calls back a muffled, “Alright,” and you were left smiling to yourself as you got out the fillings for tacos.

Fifteen minutes later James was sitting on the same chair he tossed his shirt on, and you were perched on his lap like it was your throne, and it kind of was. You lean back against him as you bring the perfectly wrapped taco up to his lips, your palm catching the bits of filling that fell from the wrap.

You pop them into your mouth and wrap your arm around his shoulders as you settle against him. “Did you have a good day?” You ask once you finished chewing, setting the half eaten taco down on the plate so you could wrap your other arm around him.

“It was alright,” James answered and wrapped his own arms around your middle. “Heard back from the bank people.”

You perk up at that. “You did? What did they say?” You ask. “Did they agree to loan you the money?”

James can’t look you in the eye when he mumbles, “No,” as he felt embarrassed that he couldn’t come up with the amount of money he needed to start his own repair business.

He was also embarrassed that he was barely making enough money to get the two of you by. No matter how much overtime he put in at Lewis’ Auto, no matter how many hours he worked, he still found himself scavenging for funds. He was embarrassed beyond words at his current financial situation, but you made it all seem better somehow.

James knew you didn’t care how much, or how little, he made. You weren’t with him for his money, as you made a pretty cent from your own job as an assistant manager at a popular restaurant in town. New Orleans held some pretty low quality restaurants and pubs, and you got lucky to be hired at one of the nicer ones.

James wasn’t a fan of where he lived and didn’t like the idea of you working near the run down locations by your shared home, so to know you were in the safer part of town for the most part of your day was reassuring, to say the least.

Despite the unfortunate news that his offer had been rejected by yet another bank, you just sat up a bit straighter and reached up to flatten out his still damp hair. “That’s okay,” you assure him. “We’ll figure something else out.”

Of course, you were disappointed, because you are his number one supporter when it comes to his dream of starting his own business, but you also knew how tough it can be to catch a break when someone has a past like James’.

You had never and will never judge him for what he did in the years before he met you, but you also understood why he was having such a hard time finding someone who was willing to lend him the starting fund he needed to begin his business.

“Yeah?” He asked as he moved his hands so they were resting on your hips.

“Yes,” you nod and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “J Kelly Auto will happen eventually.”

“I love you,” he can’t help but say. “You know that? I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“I love you, too,” you say back. “And that’s all that matters.”

James gives you a grateful smile and nod before asking, “How was your day?”

You shrug. “It was fine. I got a decent amount of tips, one elderly couple gave me a thirty dollar tip, can you believe that?” You ask and watch as he shakes his head at you. “Thirty dollars, and all because I said that they reminded me of us. I told the man that he was like an older version of my boyfriend, and then he gave me three tens when he came up to the counter to pay.”

“Wow,” James hummed, running his nose along the edge of your jaw. “I hope I can spare thirty bucks when I’m his age. How old did you say he was?”

“I don’t know, I’d guess he’s in his late seventies,”

James let out a low whistle. “I have just over forty years to save up enough money so I can give out thirty dollar tips to cute managers,”

You roll your eyes and reach over to pick up the small bits of ground beef that were left on the plate, sprinkling the crumbs into your mouth before correcting him, “Assistant manager,” you mumble as your hand traces over the tattoo on his arm, the simple font displaying your birth year. He had gotten the tattoo for you about seven months into your relationship, and for the past three years, it quickly had become one of your favorite pieces of artwork that adorned his body.

He shakes his head again and hugs you tighter against him. “Same difference,”

“Oh, I meant to tell you earlier,” you begin and sit up, wiping the excess crumbs from off your hand. “My car is making a weird noise whenever I turn left. I noticed it this morning after you went to work, and I was going to stop by Lewis’ but I was running late.”

James nods and runs his hands up your back. “Okay, I’ll take a look at it before I leave tomorrow,” he offers. “Maybe I’ll take your car to work with me and you can use mine while I fix yours.”

You give him a look of surprise. “Really? You’d let me drive the Duster?”

He nods, closing his eyes as he brushes his nose against yours. “You’d be surprised at the things I’d let you get away with, baby,”

You hum softly, moving your body so you are straddling him. “I guess that makes me the lucky one,” you mumble before leaning in and connecting your lips in a searing kiss.

The sight you were met with when you returned home from work the next day was one you weren’t expecting. After parking James’ beloved Duster on the side of the road next to the house, you find the door unlocked as you enter the house and shrug off your jacket.

James was sitting at the piano, and you took notice of how dark it was in the house, with the only light source coming from the lamp in the kitchen. “Hey, Jamie,” you quietly greet him as you place your jacket on the back of the chair. “The chef made too many servings of cannelloni tonight, and guess who got to take the leftovers home?”

You knew James loved it when you cooked him homemade food, but you also knew you weren’t as skilled in the kitchen as the staff at the restaurant, so there was a handful of food you weren’t able to make yourself. Cannelloni was one of them, and they were also one of his favorite items on the menu, so you expected he would be happy to hear you got to bring some home.

He was sitting at the piano but wasn’t playing anything. In fact, his hands were placed in his lap, and when he turned his head to look up at you, the state of his face had you stepping back with a gasp.

“Jesus, James,” you say in shock, blindly reaching behind you to flip the lightswitch. With the lights now on, you had a clear view of his face and the damage that had been done to it. The skin around his right eye was a light shade of red, and you could see a bruise starting to form. His lower lip had a small cut on it as well, and there was a bit of dried blood still on his chin. “What the hell happened?”

“I fixed your car,” he said. You step towards him again and gently grip his face, turning it so the light was shining directly on him. As you examine his injuries, you take his hand in yours, and it was then when you saw that his knuckles were bruised as well. “Frankie’s back home.” Was all he had to say and you felt your shoulders tense up.

His brother was let out of jail? That in itself was surprising, but not nearly as shocking as the fact that he only had to spend ten years behind bars for killing a cop. James served sixteen months, so you guess you had Frankie to thank for taking the majority of the blame and keeping his little brother out of jail for a decade. If he hadn’t, you would’ve never met him, so you were somewhat thankful for the man, despite only knowing him through James’ stories of him.

“Is that a good thing?” You ask, fearing you already knew the answer, if his face was anything to go by.

“It’s never a good thing with him,”

He could say that again.

You press your lips into a thin line before walking over to the small freezer and rummaging around in it. “Yeah, I guess not,” you mutter and make your way back over to him with a bag of frozen veggies in your hand. “I’m guessing he did this to your face?”

His silence was the only answer you needed, and you sighed as you gently placed the bag against the sore skin around his eye.

“You know, the more I learn about this guy, the less I want to meet him,” you say under your breath and watch him wince at the cold feeling against his face.

“I can’t say I actually want you to meet him,” he replied. “I mean, he’s my brother, but I haven’t seen him in ten years. I know I’m not the same person I was a decade ago, but something tells me he didn’t change at all.”

You nod in agreement. “No, you’re not the same person,” you press a kiss to the top of his head as he wraps his arms around your middle. You stood between his legs as he sat at the piano bench, your fingers gently massaging his scalp. “But, you know, maybe I should go and meet this guy, hear what his excuse is for hitting your pretty face.”

James, like you hoped, laughed at that and rested the other side of his face against your stomach. “I’m keeping you as far away from him as I can,” he says and you can’t help but smile at his protectiveness over you. “I don’t need him fucking up what we’ve worked for these past three years. I won’t let him.”

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of his head. “I know, and he won’t, because in case you haven’t noticed; I’m with you. Through everything, I’m on your side,” you promise. “As long as you don’t shut me out, I’m all in.”

James lifted his head and gave you the most grateful look you had ever seen, before standing up and dropping the frozen bag onto the bench. His hands find home on your hips and he dips down to press his lips to yours, ignoring the slight sting that shot through his cut.

You rest your hands on his chest as he deepens the kiss, letting his mouth tell you all the words he couldn’t form in that moment. He was frustrated and pissed off about Frankie’s sudden return, and even more agitated that Frankie hadn’t even been out of jail for more than a day before he was already trying to rope him back into that lifestyle he no longer wanted any part in.

He had already made a mess of his face, and to make matters worse, James had a meeting with the bank tomorrow to see if he could talk his way into receiving a loan to get him started on his business. While he didn’t regret getting his tattoos, some of them were questionable, and he was already planning to wear long sleeves to cover them up, but now he’d have to show up with a busted lip and the start of a black eye.

You’re the first to pull away, but you keep your forehead pressed to his as you say, “Promise me that you won’t let him ruin what you’ve been working so hard for,” you plead. “You’ve been through too much to let it all go to waste.”

James keeps his eyes closed as he mumbles, “I promise,”

“And if things go wrong or get out of hand or whatever, please,” you start, pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “Don’t shut me out or push me away because you think I can’t handle it or something. I need you to be honest with me, always.”

James reaches up to caress the sides of your face as he nods and steps closer to you. “I promise,” he murmurs again and leans back down to kiss you. “I won’t let Frankie fuck this up for us. Not now and not ever.”

His words were spoken between kisses and you let him coax your worried thoughts out of your head as he backed you towards the bed. When the backs of your knees hit the edge, you fall onto the bed and gently grip James’ biceps as he crawls on top of you.

He made you promise after promise as his lips traced over every inch of your body, and he reassured you for hours on end. While you were still nervous to know that Frankie was a free man now, James was really good at easing your mind and making you believe you had nothing to worry about.

So, as he held you in his arms later that night, feeding you bites of the now cold cannelloni, you let your mind believe that Frankie was simply just his brother and not a convicted and selfish murderer.

James had a hard time getting out of bed the following morning, but he forced himself to get up and dress himself in his best clothing, hoping to impress the bank teller during his interview he had in about an hour.

He was nervous, but the quick kiss you gave him and your words of, “Good luck today, you’ll do great. Call me when it’s over, I love you,” was all he needed to feel ready enough to give it his best.

Once you had left to go to work, he was on his own as he drove to the bank and tried to talk the teller into agreeing on a loan. He wasn’t sure why he thought this time would be different, but something about your hopeful voice and the need to please you had him believing he actually had a chance.

He left the bank, tugging off his tie as he clicked on your contact. He knew your schedule pretty well now, and he knew you were on your break, so he wasn’t surprised that you picked up after only two rings. “Hi, Jamie!” Your cheerful voice had him squeezing his eyes shut as he sat down on the stairs that led up to the bank doors. “How did it go?”

James rubbed his forehead and sighed, dreading having to tell you the embarrassing news that he had been turned down yet again. “It went well,” he answered honestly. The interview did actually go pretty decently, but in the end, he just wasn’t good enough.

And somehow you knew that, “But?” You drag the word out and he can hear you fumble around with something on the other end of the line.

“But,” he started and looked up at the passing cars. “‘They don’t make small business loans anymore.’ Whatever the fuck that means.”

In the break room at the restaurant, you bit down on your bottom lip as you looked over the schedule for the day. “I’m sorry, James, that really sucks,” you weren’t sure how to comfort him without being there with him in person. “Hey, don’t worry about it, someone else will loan you the money, it just takes time.”

Unbeknownst to you, just the sound of your voice brought him a large amount of comfort, and he already felt his mood lifting the longer you spoke to him.

“I’m off early today, Mikey is the supervisor for the next few days,” you explain and James smiled to himself, already knowing where this was heading. “Why don’t I meet you at the bar in a few hours? We can get drunk together and forget about the stupid person who wouldn’t know what a good investment is if it punched them square in the face.”

He laughed and bunched his tie up in his fist. “That sounds good to me, baby,”

“Great,” he could hear the grin in your voice. “Give me, like, three hours, then I’ll be off.”

James nodded even though you couldn’t see him. “Okay,”

“Okay,” he hears someone calling you, and he knew you had to wrap up the call soon. “Okay, well I gotta get back to work, but thank you for calling me. And I mean it, that investor doesn’t know how good they could’ve had it.”

He smiled again at that. “Thanks, sweet girl,”

“I love you, James,” you say softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” he says back. “I love you, too.”

He waits until you end the call before standing up from the stairs, stuffing his phone in his pocket and making his way to his car.

When James parked outside the bar and made his way inside, the last thing he expected to see was his brother sitting on the stool, clearly on his second or third drink.

He guessed he’d have to get used to the sight since Frankie was a free man now, and was never one to turn down cheap drinks at a lesser known bar.

James sighed and made his way over to the man, letting his brother pull him onto the stool next to his and wrap his arm around him. “Yo, I can’t believe this place is still in business, man,” he slurs and gives James a half-assed hand shake. “Yo, let me get another Jamison’s. Two, for me and my brother.”

Yeah, Frankie had definitely had more than one drink so far, if his unsteady stance was anything to go by.

“My brother,” Frankie mumbles, sitting down again. “How you been, Jimmy?”

“It’s James now, alright? People don’t call me Jimmy no more,”

Frankie tilts his head at that. “No?” He asks, not giving him a chance to respond before he continues, “Okay, James. You all grown up now?”

James shook his head, his expression unimpressed as he asked, “What are you doing here, Frankie?”

His brother sighs and rests a hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft shove as he says, “Look, I know you’re upset, alright? You got a right to be,” he began, and James was already done with this conversation. “It’s just… I figured after all this time, you know?”

“Yeah? What’d you figure, Frankie?” James muttered, wanting to call you and ask for you to just pick up beer and take it back to the house so he could avoid you having to meet his brother. “What’d you figure? You’d come back and what?”

Frankie lit a cigarette and avoided the question.

“I went to jail, Frankie,”

He was met with a glare. “Bro, you got off easy with sixteen months. I did ten years,”

“Yeah? And whose fault was that?”

“Mine. It was mine, Jimmy,” Frankie had already gone back to using his past name, but James didn’t bother to correct him. “Every day I was in there, every fucking day, Jimmy, I thought about you.”

James wished he could be comforted by that, but now he just felt on edge. His brother was bad news, and he was quickly realizing that his release might not have been a good thing after all.

“I’m sorry, man. I want to make amends,”

“It’s not so easy, Frankie,”

“I know, I know,” his older brother grunts, reaching over to tug at the hair on James’ neck. “I’m so proud of you, Jimmy, really, I am.”

James shook his head as he watched the bartender pop the caps off the beer.

“I’m proud of you, Jimmy,” Frankie said again. “You’re a fucking good looking kid, man. I mean, I don’t know who mom fucked, but you lucked out.”

That actually had James laughing as he looked over at his brother, his eyes tired and guarded.

Frankie took a drag from the cigarette. “You know how much I bragged about you? Everyone in D block knows about how you blew up all that stuff, man,” he continued, “You know what kind of street cred I got for having a brother who knows how to blow shit up, man?”

James sighed again at that, wanting to forget that part of his life. “Yeah, well, the world forgets fast, Frankie,”

“So we’ll make ‘em remember,” he puts out the cigarette on the surface of the bar. “I got a solution.”

“You’ve got a solution?” James felt a sense of dread enter his body at that. He promised you he wouldn’t let his brother drag him back down to the person he once was, and he wasn’t about to break that promise. “Frankie, I’ve changed, alright?”

“Jimmy, I’ve changed,”

He found that hard to believe. “You’ve changed?”

“Yeah, I’ve done a lot of soul searching, really,” Frankie insisted. “I’m, like, Buddha and shit.”

Another laugh escaped James, and these were the kinds of conversations he missed during the last ten years. Just two guys being brothers and talking about the most random things, that was how he wanted to remember Frankie. That was the only thing he wanted to bring back from his past.

“Believe me, I’ve had time to think, okay?”

James took the bottle that was being held out to him and grasped it with one hand, the cool glass calming down his hot skin. “Yeah, me too,” he said. “All that shit we did, I can’t go back to that. I’ve got a girl now, I’ve got a life. I made promises that I intend on keeping, man.”

Frankie looked surprised at that as he leaned away and rested his elbows on the bar. “A girl, huh?” He asked, bringing the bottle of beer up to his lips. “You been with her long?”

“Yeah, three years, man,” James answered, feeling a bit panicked that you would have to actually meet his brother now. He was really regretting not calling you and taking the party back home before you even got here. “She’s great and she means a lot to me, alright? She’ll be here any minute and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give her a hard time.”

Frankie scoffed. “Why would I give her a hard time? She makes my little bro happy! I can’t wait to meet her,” he came off sounding more sarcastic than genuine.

James opened his mouth to plead with his brother, but the feeling of arm wrapping around his shoulders had him biting his tongue. “Hi, Jamie,” came your sweet voice, and he knew it was you by just your touch.

He turned to you, his arm instantly wrapping around your waist as he tried to shield your body with his own. “Hi, baby,”

You look around him and narrow your eyes at the man smirking at you. “Who’s this?” But you had a feeling you already knew the answer.

The man, who had more tattoos than James did, reached his arm over and held his hand out to you. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Frankie, I’m his brother,”

You hesitantly use your free hand to shake his, a nervous smile on your lips when you catch sight of his bruised knuckles. They were bruised because he had decided to re-enter his brother’s life by swinging his fist at him, and the thought had you pulling your hand away after a quick shake. “Y/n,” you say sharply, inching closer to your boyfriend and placing your hand on his thigh. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your words go straight to the older man’s head, and he nudges James with a sly grin. “Yeah, have you? You been bragging about me, too, Jimmy?”

James shakes his head, hating that he had put you in this unbelievably awkward situation. You looked like you wanted to leave, and he had no problem leaving with you, but he also knew you didn’t want to be rude to his family member. You were nice like that, and he adored you for it, but this was one situation he would’ve preferred your bratty side to come out and whisk him back home.

“I wouldn’t call it bragging,” you answer for him, furrowing your brows at his brother. “I hear you’re the one who marked his face up the day before his interview. Kind of fucked up, no?”

Frankie only half listened to you and turned to James with a surprised expression. “An interview? For what?”

James shrugged, not wanting to tell him what the interview was regarding. The last thing he needed was for him to know that he was hoping to start his own Auto business within the next couple of months. “I told you, man, I’ve changed,”

“I can see that,” Frankie gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “My brother.”

You were beginning to feel overwhelmed, and James knew it as he could feel your body tense up in his arms. He turns to you, protectively hiding your body from the eyes of his brother. “How was the rest of your shift?”

Appreciating the fact that he was trying to change the subject, as well as keep your mind off everything, you let yourself relax against the side of his body as his hands smoothed out your work shirt, complete with the logo of the restaurant sewed onto the right side of the chest area. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. “Missed you.”

James leaned in and allowed you to close the remaining distance for a brief kiss. “Missed you,”

He ordered you a beer after that, and you did your best to keep your interactions with Frankie to a minimum. Seeing as James was sitting between you two, that wasn’t too hard to do.

Until he decided he wanted to learn more about the girl who had taken over his little brother’s heart. “So, Y/n,” he began, leaning on the bar so he could look around James and at you. “What are you, a waitress, or something?”

He tips his beer bottle in the direction of the logo on your shirt. While you somewhat appreciated his interest in getting to know you, the mocking tone he used wasn’t taken well by James. “She’s the assistant manager,” he answers for you, and you were glad you didn’t have to speak to the man more than you already have. “That place would go to shit without her.”

You roll your eyes and gently slap his shoulder. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that,” you shrug and take a drink from your beer. “I just put in more hours than most people there and I guess that’s enough to impress my boss.”

James hated when you didn’t hype yourself up and flaunt your accomplishments, but he also knew why you usually kept quiet about those things. You weren’t one to brag, and you preferred to celebrate your successes behind closed doors with him. Still, he wished you could see just how important you are and felt confident enough to share your success.

James couldn’t help but do all the bragging for you, and maybe it was because it was still lost on him how a guy like himself could ever end up with a girl like you. “She’s being modest, man,”

Frankie cocked his head and raised one brow as he asked, “Yeah? Assistant manager, huh? That’s great,”

You gave him a forced smile, and you were thankful when your phone went off from its place inside your jean pocket. Grabbing it, you see it’s a call from the restaurant and you lean over, making James lean towards you as well out of habit. “It’s work,” you tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and you leave the bar after pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

Not even a minute after you had excused yourself, Frankie was grabbing James’ attention again. “You’ve found yourself a good one, huh, Jimmy?” He teased and finished his third beer. “She’s great, really. Easy on the eyes, too, man.”

James glared at him, his fingers wrapping tighter around his own beer bottle. “Don’t,”

Frankie held his hands up in self defense. “Hey, bro, I’m just saying,” he says. “She’s a looker.”

James opened his mouth to defend you, but turned when he felt your hand on his arm. “Hey, Jamie,” you begin, giving him a guilty look. “That was Mikey, he needs me to cover someone’s shift.”

He gives you a somewhat hidden look of disappointment and runs his left hand up your back, his tattoo he got for you on full display in the dim lighting.

“I’m sorry, I know we were supposed to get drunk together and forget about that stupid interviewer. If it helps, I was really looking forward to you taking me home later,” you say the last part directly next to his ear, so only he could hear it in the somewhat loud bar. “I’ll be home by ten at the latest, I promise.”

James, the understanding guy he had become, nods and pulls you a bit closer to say, “That’s fine, baby,” he then adds, “Are you okay to drive?”

He knew you were a bit of a lightweight, and he could hold his alcohol a lot better than you could (he had Frankie to thank for introducing him to it at a young age), so he was prepared to drive you back to the restaurant if you needed him to.

You just shook your head, not even having the chance to finish your beer before you had to leave. “Yeah, I’m good. Stay, hang out with your brother,” you give said brother a guarded look. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Okay,” James says and presses his lips to the side of your head in a quick kiss. “Be safe.”

“I always am,” you grin at him before quickly adding, “You too, please.”

You left shortly after that, bidding Frankie a quick goodbye before leaving the bar. “I like her,” he said and James scoffed, still wishing you hadn’t been given the chance to meet him. At least not yet. “She seems sweet, innocent.”

James finished his beer and turned to face his brother. “Enough, Frankie. Whatever you’re thinking about her, get it out of your head,” he muttered. “I’m trying to marry her, start a life together.”

Frankie leaned back on the stool. “Marry? Fuck, man, I didn’t realize it was that serious,” he said under his breath. “Look, just give the broad moms old ring and call it a day.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” James sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes. “I mean it. And moms ring is worthless compared to her. A cheap and ugly band that had no business leaving her finger. We should’ve buried her with it.”

“Hey, I had no part in that. I was locked up when she kicked the bucket, remember? Taking that thing off her finger wasn’t my idea,” Frankie muttered. A moment of silence passed before he got that look in his eye. “About before; I’m gonna make things right. You need money? To buy your girl a ring? I know two guys, good guys, alright, Jimmy? They really looked out for me in the joint.”

James hummed, already feeling on edge again now that he was alone with his brother. He knew you brought him comfort whenever you were near him, but he never expected to feel like this around his own flesh and blood. He wished he went home when you left. “What about ‘em?”

“We all want the same things,” Frankie began, lighting up another cigarette. “To overcome the obstacles.”

James gave him a weary look. “Frankie, I’m not doing nothing shady,”

Frankie took a swig of his fourth beer. “Shady? You call real estate shady?”

A snort escapes James. “Real estate?” He laughed. “What, you get yourself a fucking real estate license when you were locked up?”

Frankie curses him out, “I ain’t trying to be a fucking agent, bro, I’m the boss. I call the shots, cash the checks,”

“In that cheap suit?”

“Fuck you, man,”

“Yeah, fuck you, too,”

A calmness passes by the brothers for a second or two. “I want to look out for you, man. Like the old days,” James didn’t have the heart to tell him that he would never go back to how he was in the old days again. “Me and you against the world, remember?”

“Its been ten years, Frankie,”

“So what? Let’s go flip some houses, bro,” for some reason, James was actually starting to believe the words his brother was saying, and he hoped that didn’t mean he was already beginning to slip back into his old ways. “Flip and fix.”

“And where are you getting the cash from?”

“An investor,” Frankie answers and that grabs his attention more than anything else he had said tonight. “I got an investor. He’ll take most of it at first, but it’ll be a good start.”

James let his mind wander.

An investor? That could be huge. He could start his business, buy you your ring, and get out of the house he barely called a home.

At the end of the day, Frankie was bad news, and James had a horrible feeling about all of this.

Still, would he really lead him down a bad road just a few days after he got out of jail? He really wanted to believe that his brother truly did change in the last ten years.

Before he could answer, Frankie was getting up. “Come on. I want you to meet my boys, they’re outside,”

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