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bb-eilish · 9 months

Text

Blooming Eyes

pairing; collegeathlete!anakinx flowershopworker!reader

summary; After accidentally knocking over another student with her painting, Y/n seems to have caught the eye of him. The same eyes that stare at her, blue and intense have trapped her, so she does what she does best; paint.

word count; 14.5k

warnings; P in v sex, multiple smut scenes, rough sex, romantic sex, mutual pining, obsession, dirty talk, name-calling, dumbification, making out( so much kissing omg), cunnilingus, creampie, etc etc

Working and going to school wasn’t fun, Y/n’s sure nobody has ever said it was. Though, her job was, oddly, pretty nice. She worked in a flower shop for Christ's sake, she was around nice people, and even nicer flowers.

School on the other hand was not as enjoyable. Y/n was in school for painting, and because of these two things people were able to figure her out easily. A sensitive woman who owns multiple cats, some even going as far as labeling her a "crazy cat lady" and trying to decipher her mental health for some reason.

She didn't let that bother her though, she lived a cozy life and for that she was grateful.

"I'll miss you." She pouts at her cat. The fluffy white one, Cherry, brushed against her legs as Y/n crouched, she briefly licked Y/n's fingers before rubbing her furry face against them. The woman smiled softly at the white fluff ball as she swept her hand down the cat's furry back.

"Don't think I forgot about you Mr. Grumpy pants." Y/n smiles as she steps over to her other cat, the broody void named Bear. He was curled up on top of her couch cushion, hiding his pouty face as she baby-talked. "I'll miss you too." The black cat uncurled to stretch and play with Y/n's fingers. She finally grabbed her backpack, the large canvas she had to drag to class, and waved at the two cats before opening and shutting the door to her apartment.

Traffic wasn't too bad, though, she wouldn't mind if it was. She enjoys blasting music and singing as loud as she wants. It was therapeutic. But, as she was pulling into the parking lot infront of the art building, she turned a little too sharp and the canvas in her backseat went flying. A mantra of "shit shit shit shit shit" flew out of her mouth as she parked and prayed it didn't break. Y/n whips around and inspects the item before slumping down in relief.

Now, the worst part, getting this monstrosity into class without injuring her fellow classmates.

"Sorry, 'scuse me." She mutters as she sidesteps and tip-toes through a crowd of people. A large clock sits on the wall of the building she's facing and, of course, it reads ‘9:29’. Her class starts at 9:30, she knows college professors are more lenient but she didn’t get that kind of teacher.

She loves her art class, absolutely adores it, but the teacher is a bit of a stickler and will kick students out if they're more than a minute late. Y/n thankfully spots the brick building just in time. Suddenly, "Go long" is yelled from beside her. Whipping her head around, she spots a student who is obviously an athlete and rolls her eyes, turning back to look in front of her.

But that would, simply, be too easy. Her canvas completely bulldozes over somebody as she turned around for half a second. "Oh my god." She spoke, not at the man on the ground, but at the freshly ripped hole right in the center of her painting. Terror paints her face as she stares at it. "Watch where you're going maybe." One of the guy's friends says.

"My painting.." She says as the man on the ground gets up. She's about to apologize when the clock from before chimes at 9:30, her eyes widen more, if possible, so she offers a mumbled "Sorry" before scrambling off.

"Are you okay, Anakin?"

"Yea...I'm fine." He lets out, still a little stunned. Not at him being basically tackled, but at her. He's never seen her before, but he couldn't think of a better way to run into her. He shakes his head and catches up with his friends, momentarily turning behind him to see if he's able to catch a glimpse of the canvas through the crowd of students.

Y/n successfully makes it on time, she flies down into her seat after setting the canvas on the project table.

"Nice to see you all again." Her teacher begins, but Y/n tunes him out. As she relaxes into her chair she can't help but think back to the guy she rushed into, guilt fills her as she realized she never properly said sorry. She can't even recall what the guy looks like.

Later that day she walks around the flower shop, fixing up and watering some of the plants. It's so relaxing, she smiles at each one before moving on to the next. Soon the door swings open to a rowdy group of boys, all of them well over 6'0 as they leer over the shelves of flowers. She catches a bit of their conversation, "What do you think she would like? I know I fucked up, flowers will help, trust me. Girls eat that shit up." She rolls her eyes at that, continuing to care for the various flowers.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes catch her, they continue to lock onto her, even when she disappears into the backroom.

The boys ring the bell on the desk, a little too much and a little too rough. She licks her teeth in annoyance as she steps out to the checkout counter. There's about 4 of them and she'd rather be buried alive than have to talk to them. It's unbelievably intimidating as they stare at her while she's checking out the bouquet of flowers they settled on.

"That'll be $15.99." She mutters, looking up and making eye contact with one of them. His eyes are intense, but not in the same way as the others. She feels hooked, almost like she was lured into a trap. She gulps quietly before looking back down, putting away the money, and offering them change.

"Have a nice day and come again." She says, the last part coming out as they stare at each other once more. They only look away after the door opens and closes again. She's not sure if he looks back at her because she turns and zips into the backroom.

Friday, finally. She doesn't have school today, she only works. Her shift doesn't start until 4.

So, until then, she sits and does nothing. It's wonderful, she adores laying on her couch with her cats. Today was a bit different though, the stranger's eyes appeared in her head at every turning corner. It brought along a wave of goosebumps and quick heartbeats. Y/n has no idea why she's so drawn to him, but she is and it has completely blindsided her.

"Alright guys, I'll be home soon enough." Is said to her cats, more for herself honestly. Her shift went per usual, the people were back to being polite, no rowdy men who are incredibly enticing.

The next day, though, was unusual.

The bells she adores chime and ring as she enters the shop, checking in and greeting Marleen, the store owner. "Anything interesting happen recently?" Y/n asks, trying to make conversation as she gets out the watering can for the flowers. Marleen walks behind the cash register as she thinks, "Kind of, a man came in here and walked around for a little bit the other day, didn't buy anything, and then sat outside on the bench for another 10 minutes before leaving."

Y/n furrows her eyebrows, "That's strange." The conversation ends there as she goes to the back of the green house outside and fills up the can, dragging it back and watering the flowers.

An hour or two goes by before a few people come in, she's snipping some of the leaves as one of them gets her attention. The bell chimes once more behind her but she doesn't look. "Can I help you?" She asks, turning towards the man with a smile on her face. "Yes, would you happen to know anything about taking care of plants?"

She smiles brighter at that, "I do, whats the problem?"

"Well, my cactus is starting to turn a darker green or black color at the bottom and it's becoming softer. I'm not sure what to do." The man says, nibbling his lip. Y/n nods before asking, "How often do you water it per week?"

The man raises his eyebrows, "I water it everyday, is that bad?"

She hums, "There's your issue, root rot. Since it's the spring you only need to water it about every 10 days, that should clear it up. If the rot is more severe you might need to repot and re-soil it."

"I see, thank you so much!" She smiles as they part ways, she goes back to snipping the last of the leaves before retreating back to the backroom to drop off the scissors and then to the counter, waiting for anyone to check out. She spaces out for a second before noticing someone walking up to the front of the counter.

"Hello, did you find everything okay?" She spews off automatically before looking up, seeing it's the man from the other day. Not the loud, obnoxious one, the one with the intense blue eyes.

He softly smiles, "I did." His voice is deep, but inviting and easy to listen to. She grabs the small potted succulent he placed onto the counter before grabbing the scanner and scanning the bottom. She catches his outfit, a black baggy t-shirt and acid-wash black jeans. The simpleness only added to his overall appeal.

"You sure know a lot about plants." He starts, smiling at her. "You must have a lot at home."

She laughs before telling him the price, "I don't actually, I have cats so y'know." She smiles while the man swipes his card, "It'll ask you if you want to add a tip and then you can sign." She says, regarding the card reader. He nods before tapping it a few times and dragging his finger along the screen.

"You look like the type to have cats." He says as he puts his card away, "Is that bad?" Y/n lightly teases. He shakes his head no, "Not at all, it's cute."He says, momentarily reading her name tag. "I'll be sure to come back and ask you for advice if anything happens ." Her heart practically stops in her chest as she laughs, "I'll be expecting you, have a nice day."

"You too, Y/n."

She swallows, watching him leave. "Oh my god." She whispers, she could fill out a diary about him and they only just met. So, thats exactly what she does.

When she returns home, she makes a B-line for the new pocket-sized sketchbook she recently bought. She flips past the drawings of flowers and settles on an empty page. Getting out a pencil and drawing the one thing she remembers the most, his eyes. The intensity of them, his brow bone, she makes sure she incorporates the way they make her feel as well. She even busts out her colored pencils for the blue of his irises.

She would feel embarrassed if she didn't feel a physical feeling before drawing his eyes, her fingers tingle as she draws them, again and again. They stain page after page, some colored, some not. But they all make her feel the same way. When she deems it out of her system for the time being, she checks her clock, stunned to see it was way past 12:00.

But that's okay, the shop isn't open on Sundays.

Her dreams that night were surreal, she fell into his eyes, literally, like they were a hurricane, they swirled her further and further into him. She drowned in his eyes and wouldn’t mind if she did in real life too. When she awakes, there's a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. That day she tries her best to get into her homework and not the alluring customer from her job. At one point she spaces off and doodles along the sides of her psychology homework, it lasts a few moments before she realized what she drew. The same pair of eyes that have been tormenting her, stare back from her homework.

"I'm going crazy." She mumbles, laying her head on the table. Y/n picks herself up after a minute or so. Scribbling down the answer to the last few problems, she throws the paper in her folder and sits down on her couch, chewing her thumbnail anxiously. She's not really sure what's going on with her, she doesn't even know his name. His eyes though, the way they stared at her, brought out a feeling like no other. She decides to occupy herself with tv until she goes to bed, she has art class tomorrow and is well aware of the homework her teacher assigns on Mondays.

—

Pulling into her parking space, she makes a mental note on the art supplies she has to buy. The faint thought of taking her drawings of him to the next level startle her. Is this creepy? She hopes not. It's truly addicting to think about him.

"Happy Monday, everyone. As you're probably expecting, I have an assignment for you." Sighs are heard through the class as he keeps going, "Next Monday you will turn in a painting on something that moves you. Doesn't matter what, but make it have meaning." He finishes. Y/n thinks for a moment about what she'd make, she can feel it at the back of her mind though. She doesn't have to really think that hard about it.

Her job was quiet, only two people came in during the 3 hours she's been there. Her shift ends in 10 minutes and she's excited to pick up some new art supplies, creativity is fresh on her mind, it has the tips of her fingers tingle. So much so, she grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and gets to practicing the same pair of eyes she's come to perfect.

The bells chime and she lets out a "Welcome in." As she usually does. She doesn't look at the door as she shades in the pupil of the eye, she can already see his likeliness shining through the paper. She continues adding details to his eyebrows as she senses something.

"Wow, that's amazing." A deep voice says from over her shoulder. Y/n jumps about 6 feet in the air and just barely keeps in her squeal of terror. He stands back and chuckles, "Didn't mean to scare you, you okay?" He asks, putting a comforting hand on her back.

"Oh yea, I'm fine. And thank you." She tries her best to seem not panicky and caught red handed.

"Can I see it?" He asks her, nodding towards the pad of paper. Okay, now it's time to panic. She can't say no, that would be off putting. Maybe he won't notice the resemblance? She inhales, "Sure, here." She scoots over the paper to him. Her heart stutters in her chest and her palms grow clammy the longer he stares at it.

"These seem familiar." He pauses, she could honestly throw up right now, this can't be happening. "I can't put my finger on it."

She exhales, relief settling over her shoulders as he moves back to the front of the small counter, she shuffles the paper onto the shelf below the register, hoping he doesn't connect any dots.

"I actually came here to ask you something. I'm in botany right now and it's not looking too good for me, I saw how good you are with plants, so I was wondering if you would tutor me? ." Y/n widens her eyes, what did she do in her past life to be rewarded like this?

"Oh, yea, I can do that. When are you free?" She's dreamed about asking him that, different context though, usually it's after he declares his love for her and wants to get married. Tutoring is good too though.

"I'm not working at the moment so any time that works for you probably works for me." He smiles, the motion adds a matching expression to her own face.

"Tomorrow at 6:00?"

"Perfect, does my place work? I'll give you my number." He tells her, waiting eagerly for her to reply.

"I can do that, and here." She grabs her phone from her back pocket. Passing it to him, her bottom lip becomes trapped under her front teeth. Their fingers brush against each other’s as he takes the device from her. Y/n swallows, glancing everywhere but him as he continues. "Here." He passes it back to her, he even put in his name. "Anakin." She states looking up at him. There's a gleam in his eyes, she's not sure what it is but it's accompanied by a teasing smile.

"That's me. Well, I just came here to run that by you, thank you again. I'll talk to you later?" He leans on his hands that are flat on the counter, not so subtly towering over her. The intensity in his eyes comes swooping back as she looks up at him. They trace her very being and it feels like she's forgotten how to breathe.

"I'll make sure to text you after my shift." She smiles at him to the best of her ability, it's hard though, she feels like the only person in the world as he looks at her. It's not a bad feeling, not at all, it makes her feel warm and special.

"I'll be looking forward to it." He let's her know as he walks to the door, turning around to speak to her.

When he leaves and is out of her line of sight, she crumbles. Y/n sits down behind the counter to catch her breath. Her face probably looks like a tomato right now, but she doesn't mind-Y/n has bigger problems. Like having to text him. What should she say?

'Hi' sounds too uninterested.

'Hello' sounds too formal.

'Hey' sounds too much.

She decides she'll cross that bridge when she gets there, she has another hour behind the counter before she can leave.

Turns out, that hour was pure agony. She spaced out the entire time and it STILL felt like years. But, it's bittersweet. As she sits in her car, face lit by the screen of her phone, the empty message bar sits there, she's typed nothing. Y/n knows she's being dramatic, so she huffs and types against her will.

"Hey, this is Y/n."

Then she basically throws her phone into the passenger seat and takes off. The volume of the radio blasts as she grips the steering wheel with a new found urgency.

Just when she opens her door she remembers the supply store. "Goddamnit." She swears she'll go tomorrow.

"Hi, Babies." She greets her cats as they hang around her legs.

It's not very late so she decides to start on her art project. She has a closet full of canvas', so she flips through them. What would make Anakin's eyes pop the most? Y/n doesn't know why she does this to herself, but she picks the biggest one she owns. This time, though, if it rips, she might attack somebody.

She lays the canvas out on her floor, an array of different black and gray pencils sit around her.

She closes her eyes for a moment, visualizing earlier that day. How his eyes pierced her, how he looked down at her. Blindly, she searches for a pencil. The feel of it on her fingers felt amazing, she cracks open her eyes and gets to work. His eyes fill the entire thing in no time and she feels whole. It didn't take long for her to fully sketch out everything, as she gazes at her newest obsession, it sends a jolt of electricity down her back. She breathes before picking up her phone, lungs soon deflating as she sees a text.

'Thought you forgot about me for a second haha'

She spots the time it was sent, 1 hour ago.

She scrambles to open the message app and type actual words.

'I could never and sorry by the way. I was working on my art project, it really cuts me off from the world lol'

He responds a second later;

'You really are a tortured artist lol'

'Here's my address by the way-->'

Y/n knows she'll have to put that into her gps, she's not the best with directions.

'Thanks, I'll be there at 6. Make sure you have the homework you're struggling with and the class textbook'

'I gotchu'

The conversation ends there, she can finally breathe.

School was, well, school, nothing ever happens in her math or english classes. Per usual, her job was the most exciting part of her day that didn't involve Anakin.

So, when she leaves work and heads to the supply store, she picks up the right paint and decides if she needs more brushes or not. As she tosses them in her backseat, she checks the time on her phone, "You have to be kidding me." She grumbles, 5:50. Her fingers quickly punch in his address before she's pulling out of the parking lot. He lives about 15 minutes away and it makes her kind of want to drive off the bridge she's currently driving over.

She speeds the entire way there, thankfully arriving 13 minutes later instead of 15.

In her scrambled state she forgets who's door she's knocking on for a moment, the fear of being late taking over her mind completely. So when Anakin opens the door she grips the wall beside her for support. "Well well, seems you're about 14 minutes late, tsk tsk." He teases as he holds the door open for her.

"I'm so sorry, I had to run to the store to get more paint." She offers, slipping her shoes off.

"Art project you were talking about last night?' Anakin asks, closing the door. Y/n nods, muttering a 'Yea'.

"When am I gonna be able to see it? If it's taking so much of your time it must be good."

Her eyes widen, he wasn't able to decipher the quick sketch at her job, but he would absolutely tell with her painting. She tries to hide her panic, "Maybe if you pass botany." She teases, following him to wherever he's set up at. They come up to his dining room table, papers and textbooks are arranged nicely, it makes her smile.

He takes a seat and pats the one next to him, "C'mon Ms. Artist. Tell me about plants."

She giggles as they begin.

Everything is going well, he's getting questions right and seems fairly knowledgeable on the topic.

"Are you sure you need help? You're doing great, I could hire you at my shop." He gives her a shrug and a laugh, the topic shifting to normal conversation after a little.

"You have two cats?" He asks, body facing her as he leans on an arm.

"Yup, Cherry and Bear, both pieces of my heart." She expects him to laugh at her for saying that, poke fun at her for caring so much for them. But he smiles, "That's cute, I can't lie. Do you have any pictures?" Y/n almost misses his question, her ears still perked up at his compliment.

"Oh, uh, yea." She grabs her phone in her back pocket, swiping through her pictures until she lands on one. Cherry lays on her chest while Bear sits behind her, his head pressed up against the side of her face. It still warms her heart looking at it.

As she shows him the photo, she gauges his reaction. A moment passes. "Wow, that's so cute" He's mumbles, drinking in the photo as she pulls it away, "I know right, they both have such cute faces."

"Oh yea, your cats are cute too."

She laughs at that, trying to not let his obvious flirting ruin her composure right now. As Y/n stares at the photo, the time in the corner of the device catches her attention. "I should go, it's getting late." She says softly, stacking the papers they went over, neatly. She stands and pushes the chair in, until a hand comes up to hers, stopping her from getting too far.

"When are you free again?"

"What, you wanna talk about my cats some more?" She laughs, soon looking up at him again as he stands. The hand on hers doesn't move, only squeezes for a second. A laugh leaves him as he looks away for a moment, a smile present on his face

"No tutoring this time, I was wondering if you just wanted to hang out? No plants."

Her eyebrows raise, "Oh, seriously?"

"If you don't want to thats okay-"

"No!..no, I, that would be nice." She stutters out, swallowing. The hand on hers maneuvers so they're hands are interlocked. She would've peaked down if not for the way he was looking at her. It's like a switch for him honestly, the intensity in his eyes flood back and she has to remind herself to stand correctly.

Anakin sucks in his bottom lip as he stares at her face, soon settling on her lips. He takes the first step, backing her into his table. Their fingers split apart as he leans his hands on the edges of the furniture, blocking her in. "I honestly can't get enough of you, each time I see you it's not enough." He whispers against her parted lips, his right hand coming up to cradle her waist.

"Anakin." She breathes heavily.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, lips brushing against hers.

Y/n gulps, nodding as she gazes at his eyes then lips.

He doesn't wait a second before connecting with her skin, gently, lightly. The kiss progresses, the last hand on the table drifts to the base of her neck, loosely gripping the skin. Y/n seriously can't get over how big he is, he's so broad and tall. She feels like he could swallow her up with ease and it has her knees weakening.

They eventually drift apart, lingering near each other until he backs up and lets her out of his cage.

"Here." He mumbles, grabbing her hand and leading her to where her shoes sat. She slips them on without tying them.

"Text me when you get home?" Anakin asks, leaning his hand against his door frame as she stands on his porch. A soft chuckle escapes her, "Sure." Before she goes, he leans in, placing a hand on her cheek and leaving a sizzling goodbye kiss on her lips.

"Bye."

After letting him know she got home safe, she pretty much passed out, she's never been through so much in such a short period of time.

She wakes up to a few texts, and each and everyone of them drive her teeth deeper into her, poor, bottom lip.

'Good morning'

"I had a lot of fun last night'

'What are your classes today?'

Y/n composes herself as best she can before replying.

'Good morning! I had a lot of fun too, more than I've had in awhile'

"And I have two classes, psych and geometry’

The bubbles appear and she turns off her phone, closing her eyes and squealing.

'Do you wanna meet up sometime this week? if you're busy thats okay i totally get it'

She giggles at his rambling.

'I'd love to see you, is Friday okay?'

'Friday's great, wanna grab lunch? I'll pick you up'

"Sounds fun, see you then<3'

Was the heart too much? She doesn't know, it felt right in the moment. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if this was another one of her dreams, they're a little too convincing for her liking.

To say the week went slowly is an understatement. But, she has made good progress on her drawing, the vivid blues she used brought out his eyes incredibly. She traced the dried shadows casted onto the skin of his eyelids with her finger, she knew she was fucked.

Friday rolled around, it weighed on her psyche like a brick. Soon, though, the crippling anticipation would be over.

She scanned herself over in the mirror, "You got this, it's just the dude you're infatuated with who likes you back." Saying it out loud did not help, infact, the need to throw up starting growing. Y/n chugged some water before getting the text.

'I'm outside'

She inhaled and said her goodbyes to her cats, shakily closing the apartment door behind her. From the lobby she could spot a black car parked right in front of the stairs, she hoped it was his. It would be really awkward if she opened it and it wasn’t Anakin. Thankfully, though, it was. "Hey" He greeted, leaning his elbow on the center console, eyeing her closely.

"Where we goin?" Y/n asked, buckling in her seatbelt after she shut the door. He made a thoughtful face before saying the name of a cafe place he wanted to try. Her interested was piqued. The drive there made her giggle, the music he was playing made it very..obvious he was a college student. "What?" He asked, turning to her for a second before watching the road again, a matching smile on his face.

"You listen to fuck boy music." She pressed her hand lightly over her mouth as she laughed harder.

A look of faux offense struck his face as he let out an incredulous scoff. "Fuck boy music?" His astounded voice made the situation all the more funny, her stomach even started hurting from laughing so much. "Wow.." He murmured, chuckling some more. He bit his lip and shook his head. After that it was much easier to talk to him, he was easy to converse with surprisingly.

"What drink did you get?” He asks, taking a bite from his bagel. “An iced matcha latte with a shot of vanilla and vanilla sweet cold foam.”

He blinks at her, “Bless you.”

She laughs before taking another sip of her drink, a lock of her hair loosens from behind her ear and hangs in front of her eye. Anakin doesn’t waste a second before his hand is coming up to loop it back in place.

Y/n raises her eyebrows at his eagerness, "What? Couldn't have anything blocking that face of yours." The drink coming up her straw slowly goes back down as she freezes. A blush she hopes isn't as bad as she thinks it is, takes over her face and ears. She's really not used to a guy being this way with her. Anakin watches her, amused, he loves the way she reacts to his advances.

"What time is it? My shift starts at 4." She remembers, playing with her straw.

"2:04."

"I got time, what do you wanna do?" She wonders as he stands up and grabs the paper his bagel came with, throwing it away as they walk out. "Good question, do you wanna go back to your place?" It's an innocent enough question but she raises her eyebrows anyway, teasing him.

"Oh don't give me that look." He smiles, putting an arm around her shoulders. Leaning into her ear he says lowly, "Don't tell me you're already thinking dirty thoughts. You're so cute." His words paired with his tone, the proximity, his arm, and the intoxicating way his lips and breath brush against her ears are too much for her. "Ladies first." He says, back to his smiley self as he opens the passenger door for her.

The way back could be both worse and better at the same time. He rests a hand on her clothed thigh, he doesn't move it, but it's there, and she's acutely aware of it. It singes her skin even through her jeans. Y/n swears he's out for blood right now, she can feel her heart and it's not looking good.

As she unlocks her apartment door, she wouldn't be surprised if she just dropped dead right there.

Her cats, like always, meet her at the door, tails flicking, and cute meows spewing at random moments. Anakin's in awe as he crouches down, letting the animals smell his hands. "They're so cute."

She giggles at his expression, hanging up her purse.

Her cats warm up to him pretty fast, Bear flips over, his furry stomach on display for them both. Anakin gets his cat fix before moving on to her living room. "Very cozy, Ms. Tortured Artist." He jokes, taking a seat on the couch. Y/n laughs, finding the remote, "Oh, please. I swear everyone thinks I'm such an open book."

"That's probably because you are." He smiles, leaning back and manspreading.

"Okay then, guess something about me." She challenges, forgetting the remote to turn and face his smug expression. "Hmm." He looks up at her ceiling in thought before making an 'o' shape with his mouth, "I bet your room is either beige or pink, no in between." Her mouth opens a bit, he actually got it right. Her bedsheets are pink, maybe she is an open book.

"Well, fuck. You got me, it's pink." She laughs, shrugging.

"Of course it is, can I see it? I don't see too many adults with pink rooms." He plays it off, acting like he's completely innocent in this. Y/n nods, standing up to venture down the hallway. She creeks the door open, her lips pursed as she showed him the pink room he completely guessed right on.

"Wow, cute room. I bet you bring all the guys here, hm?" He teases, sitting on the edge of her bed, he pats the space next to him. "You're an ass." Y/n mumbles, sitting next to him. He leans over a bit, "I might be, do you have a problem with that?' He leans in more, scooting over even. He's close again like he was at his house that day.

She shakes her head, her spine tingling at the sensation of his hand wandering to her thigh. It caresses it, almost luring her she feels like. "Good." Is the last thing she hears before he kisses her again. They both lose themselves in the intimate act, need coming from both sides. It gets heavy quickly, a hand is placed around her back, pulling them closer together, the hand on her thigh has migrated to her ass.

Crash!

Anakin was honestly just going to power through it, the feel of her so eager to touch him sent him spiraling. But, of course, she pulls away.

"Give me one moment, okay?" Y/n pants against his lips, an apologetic smile already on her face. He nods, smacking her ass when she gets up. He closes his eyes and breathes, later opening them to glance around her room. It makes him feel something as he takes in the cutesy stuff around him, and that something shoots down to his jeans as they tighten ever so slightly. Stuffed animals littered her pink bed, her desk next to it had cute little stationary sets, random figurines, and a little notebook. He's not sure why it catches his attention but it does, the latch to keep it closed piqued his interest. So, without thinking, he leans for it, swiping it from the table.

The leather rubs against his warm fingertips as he unlatches it, flipping to the first page. "Predictable." He smiles, little sketches of flowers are sprinkled through out it, and the page after it. Just as he gets to the third page she walks in, immediately eyeing her demise in his hands. She snatches it from his hands the second he lays his eyes on, well, his eyes.

"You're so nosy." She laughs it off like she didn't feel her heart lurch in her chest.

"Sorry." He pauses, leaning back to look at her. A new mood swirling through his eyes, new to her at least.

"You really like drawing those eyes, huh?" He smiles, watching as she sits back next to him. "You could say that." She responds, hoping he drops it. He, thankfully, lets go of what he saw, eyeing her on her cute pink bed, the blush on her cheeks, and the timid look on her face. It’s so alluring. “Don't you think you're a little far away?" Anakin asks, ready to tackle her.

"I'm right next to you, our knees are touching."

"Yea, well, I could think of some other things I'd like to be touching other than our knees." He mumbles, loud enough for her to hear. He gazes at her face with an unbreaking stare. Scooting closer, he leans in to graze her ear with his lips.

"Seeing you all shy and blushy on your pretty pink bed really turns me on, if I'm being honest." His voice an octave lower. A moment later he stands up, a teasing smile on his face. "It's 3:10, you should get ready for work." Y/n looks at him with huge eyes, her fists still clenching the sheets under her. She nods, eyes going everywhere before landing on her lap—her mind trying to rationalize what just happened.

"Oh, right." Need has settled in her stomach, it swirls inside her as she walks past him to her closet. Her work uniform was neatly hung up like usual.

"Wow, do I get a show?" Anakin asks, amused as he takes a seat back on her bed. Y/n playfully scoffs, laying her clothes on her bed before taking his hand and guiding him through her house. "Are you kicking me out, Cutie? I thought we had something special." He jokes, putting on his shoes. "You're so annoying." She laughs, opening the door when he's done. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Gotta make sure you don't miss me too much."

"Okay, okay, get out." She laughs again, Anakin puts his arms up in faux defense as he laughs along. "I'll see you later, Cutie." He takes ahold of her chin, guiding their lips together. The kiss is definitely more than a peck, it leaves her wanting more as he pulls away. He offers her a wink before leaving down her building's hallway.

After closing the door, she slides down it. Face pressed into her knees. Images of what happened only minutes prior race through her mind, momentarily stunning her. She's never been so attracted to someone in her life. But, in love or not, she must get to work. As she's undressing to change into her uniform, she can't help but to let her mind wander. What if she did 'give him a show'?, she knows the feeling of his hands against her bare skin would be intoxicating. His already sinful mouth would be hair-raising.

Goosebumps graze over her arms and stomach as she slips on her shirt and tugs on her pants. The entire way there and her entire shift was endured with a heavy heart. She was wrapped so tightly around his finger already. The vulnerability of it all was scary though, she fell so hard and so fast. Yet, she didn't worry too much about it.

That night she lay awake. Skimming her fingers over her lips, replaying the kisses he's shared with her. A warm feeling fills her chest and abdomen as she closes her eyes. Pressing her face into the pillow as she smiles.

—

“Hey, listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to my game next weekend.” Anakin says, he called her only a moment ago and, obviously, she picked up pretty fast.

“You play sports?” It really wasn’t that surprising, whenever he wore short sleeves his biceps would strain against the material, she could only imagine what the rest of him looked like.

“Yea, I play football. I’d love if you came, seeing you there would be great.”

“Sounds fun, I haven’t gone to a football game since I was in high school.” She murmurs into the phone, sitting cross-cross on her floor alongside her painting.

“Well, then you probably don’t know that you’ll need to wear a cheer costume, preferably a size smaller or two.” He teases, jokingly trying to convince her. A laugh comes from her and he can picture her smile.

“Is that so? I’m not sure either of us would enjoy my ass hanging out infront of the entire school.” She chuckles, spinning her brush in the jar of water next to her, soon drying it off on a rag.

“You’re right, you should cheer me on in a more..secluded place, like my bedroom.”

“You’re too much, Anakin.” She pauses for a moment, voice becoming softer as she continues. “I’ll be there, text me what time and stuff, okay?” The man on the other end smiles, “Of course, also. I don’t have a picture of you for your contact, could you send me that one you took of you and your cats you showed me the other day?”

Her eyebrows raise, he was oddly specific. “Sure, why that one specifically?” She wonders aloud, dipping her brush into some of the paint lightly.

“I love that picture of you, I told you I thought you were cute in it.” His deep chuckle has her hand momentarily stalling.

“I thought you were just being horny, if I’m being honest.” She confesses, breathy laugh escaping her.

“Me? Horny? Absolutely not.” Anakin teases, sitting up in his bed. “I will say though, could you blame me? You do something to me, Y/n. It’s difficult not touching you at all times.” He confesses, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

“What, do you like me or something?” She could only think of a limited amount of responses. The topic of sex and all things related stunned her a bit, she wasn’t a virgin but that didn’t mean she was used to his advances or forwardness. She heard his low laugh from the line and laid her brush on the rag for the time being.

“You have no idea, it’s honestly a miracle we’ve made it this far. We haven’t even had sex yet and you’re still keeping up with me. It means a lot.” The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.

“Does that not usually happen?” She wonders if it’s too much to ask, but she’s curious. He sighs before answering.

“I don’t have the best..track record with relationships. I feel like sometimes all people boil me down to is sex, so, it’s refreshing that we haven’t done anything yet and you still wanna hang out with me.” His answer honestly made her wanna cry, she couldn’t imagine being used in such a way—multiple times.

"I'm so sorry. If it means anything, that's probably the last thing I'd ever do. I know I don't show my feelings much...but I really like you. It kinda scares me honestly." She held her breath at the confession, scared of what he'll reply with.

"Yea? You like me? What do you like about me exactly?" And there he was, back to his old teasing self. Y/n laughs loudly at his sudden change in tone.

"Do you actually want a list?" She smiles, absentmindedly grabbing her brush and twirling it in the dark-colored water.

"Oh absolutely, lay it on me, Cutie."

"Hmm, well, I really like how forward you are. You saying you'd like to see me and stuff, the guys I've dated in the past tried to be all cool and anti-feelings. It's nice knowing what you're thinking."

"How could I ever hide how I feel about you?" He sighed, running a hand through his sandy curls.

"Plus, it really helps that you're sexy." She had to say it, it had to be known. It was the truth, she couldn't be blamed. Anakin snorts at that.

"You're so cute, I just wanna pinch your cheeks." He teases, goofy smile on his face.

The call, unfortunately, ends a little after that. She has one day to finish the painting, it only needed some final touches so she was happy tomorrow was Sunday.

Said day went nicely. She finished the painting completely and couldn't be happier with it. She honestly doesn't know how she did it but she truly encompassed Anakin onto the canvas. Looking at it brought a warm feeling to her body, it swam from her heart, to her stomach, and to her limbs.

"Alright, there are two piles. One is the normal turn in pile, and the other is the turn in pile for the University’s art show next Friday night. Now, I will warn you, not everyone who enters will be in the show. We are looking for the best the class has to offer, if you don't get picked that's okay. There will always be more."

Y/n thinks heavily about her decision, she can't possibly pass up an opportunity like this. So, she breathes and adds it to the art show pile. She tries her best to not dwell on it too much, she knows if she overthinks she'll end up panicking and changing her decision. The teacher tells them their homework for the week, but it's nothing to fret over. Because this project was so big he only asked for some simple sketches and drawings.

By the time she makes it out of class her phone pings, an email. Apparently, her teacher for her last class of the day is sick so class is cancelled. She shrugs mentally and decides to head to the library. Her shift doesn't start for a hot minute and she could get some homework done.

She adores the library, especially this one table. It's more towards the back, it's cut off by thick shelves, little to no distraction. It's perfect for homework.

As she walks, she feels her shoulders lift. The painting hanging over her head was done. The obsession with Anakin's eyes painted into reality, it was done. A small smiles lifts her lips as she opens the door to the building the library is located in. The shelves blur together as she walks passed them, they tower over her as usual. The place is fairly empty, aside from one or two students.

She gets closer to the table and crosses her fingers, hoping it's empty. Y/n sighs in relief as she sees it vacant. Sitting in her usual seat, she sets down her backpack and drags out her computer.

Unexpectedly, her phone pings again. This time it isn't an email.

'what class are you in rn?'

Y/n smiles, giddly typing a reply.

'class was cancelled, im doing some homework in the library. it's so quiet in here it’s great’

She leaves it at that, not expecting anything to come from it. So, she plugs in her headphones and shuffles her playlist. Beginning to type her homework. Her head bops to the beat until a pair of hands squeeze her shoulders. It makes her jump, she's honestly not sure if she made a sound or not, her music was a little too loud. She tugs out the earplugs, knowing the culprit already.

"Anakin, you scared me." She breathes, smile on her face as she places a hand on her chest.

"That was kinda the point." He teases, sitting in the seat beside her. "Whatchya working on?"

"My English essay, do you not have a class right now?"

"Technically, it's not a mandatory day. Plus, I'd rather be here with you." He flirts, grabbing her hand that rests on the table. "I missed you."

She can't take her eyes off of him as he tells her that. "I missed you too." Soon, he's nodding at her headphones. "What're you listening to?"

"Oh, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, it's one of my favorite songs." She passes him one of the earbuds and restarts it.

As she continues typing her essay, they're both quiet, listening to the love song. Anakin's eyes trail up her arm, to her concentrated face, his eyes soften as he takes her in. The song adding a loving theme song to what he was feeling. She was so close to him, a mere few inches. His hand reaches out to graze her arm, skin free due to the short sleeved shirt she was wearing. It brought comfort to him that he could reach out and know she was there.

Y/n's eyes flick to him at the touch, meeting his gaze quickly.

It's silent between them, the look he's giving her would've probably had her in the hospital a week ago. She's able to keep looking at him now, even through his intense stare. Electricity crackles in the air around them, nothing else matters. Nothing else could matter.

His hand doesn't leave her upper arm as he leans in, romantically connecting their lips. The chorus starts up once again, it's fuel for the desire being poured from them. They push together harder, wanting to be one. The only reason they split is for air. But, the need for closeness is still alive and well. So, he scoots closer, wrapping her in a hug. He mumbles something in her hair, but she doesn’t hear it. The sound of their breathing and heartbeats is the only thing heard after that until Y/n speaks up.

"Do you wanna go to an art show next Friday night with me?" Her voice is quiet, almost like he'd run away if she was too loud.

Pulling away enough to look into her eyes, he answers. "Of course, I'd go anywhere with you."

That week they met up a few times, sometimes at school, and sometimes at random restaurants for a date. Anakin was sure he was losing his mind, he's never felt such a way for someone. He was falling for her, very hard and very fast.

After their meet up at the library, Y/n had an idea. Thinking back to when they were on the phone, what if she did wear a cheer costume. Obviously not to the game, but they could celebrate afterward. She wanted to be closer to him, needed the feeling of him. She knew Anakin wanted that too, so she was ready to make it memorable. She orders the skimpy costume off of Amazon and checks that it'll be there before Friday night.

So, when Friday morning rolls around and it ends up in her mailbox she's more than ready for what's to come.

"You're picking me up right?" She asks over the phone, the device is on speaker as she gets undressed, ready to put on the costume under her normal clothing.

"Yea..why do you sound so far away?"

"Oh, sorry. You're on speaker, I'm changing right now." It's not her intention but she'll know Anakin'll get a kick out of that.

"Are you now?"

Then, an incredibly erotic idea falls into her head. As she speaks to Anakin she snaps a picture of herself, she's not wearing anything but the photo stops right above her breasts. They were still very noticeable so she could tease him perfectly. A pout is settled on her face as her hair frames the seductive expression. She sends it and keeps talking like nothing nefarious is happening behind the scenes.

When he stops talking she does too, a smirk making its way onto her face. "Something wrong, Ani?" She's never used the nickname before, but it feels like the right moment to start.

"Fuck, Y/n. You're gonna kill me. I want you so fucking bad, oh my god." His voice is deep and strained.

She ignores the way her body reacts to that as she replies, "Whe are you gonna be here? I miss you."

"Mm, I miss you too, I'll be there in an hour. Be ready for me, yea?” The double meaning of his words tingles up her spine.

She checks herself over in the mirror, the small two piece barely covered anything. Her cleavage couldn't be on more of a display, especially since she paired it with her favorite push-up bra. The small, red, pleated skirt didn't even cover half of her ass, and she paired that with a matching lace thong.

The text that he was waiting for her outside came sooner than she expected so she threw on some baggy clothes and grabbed her things. Making her way to him.

Shocking to nobody, once she sat in his passenger seat he was on her. Hand on her neck as he pressed a searing kiss on her welcoming lips. It would've gone on longer if she didn't remind him of where they were going.

"You're so lucky my game saved you, I don't think I could've held myself back after that photo you sent." He threatened, pulling out of the parking lot. "Don't threaten me with a good time." She replies, taking his free arm into both of hers. She practically hugged him the entire way there.

"You wait in the stands for me, okay? I'll be looking for you." Anakin said, closing the gap between them again.

"Good luck."

As she sat on the lowest bench of the stand, a chill ran up her spine at the thought of what was going to happen once the game was over. The feeling tripled as she spotted him. The look on his face causing a blush to grow on her cheeks.

The game started soon after that, she never really paid attention to sports, so she didn't really know what was going on. She knew enough to get her by, though. She watched him closely, watched as he bulldozed the opposing players. He was one of the tallest on the team so he stood out well. It was unbelievably hot, she couldn't deny the way her thighs clenched together. She was more than ready for the game to be over.

During one of the breaks, he jogs up to the fence next to the stairs of the stands. Calling her over with a nod and a smile. His helmet hung on one of his fingers as he waited for her. "You're doing great." She tells him, smiling proudly.

"It's all because of you, my love." He lightly pants, leaning over the fence to kiss her. Though he tastes like sweat, she didn't mind. The opposite actually, it turned her on even more. And when they split he could see the gleam in her eyes. "As soon as I win this thing we can get outta here, how does that sound?" He moved his damp curls from his face as he spoke, it added to his undeniable sex appeal.

"Sounds good, I'll wait at the car for you afterward." Her hand reaches out to rub at his sticky biceps.

He nods before giving her one last kiss and running back to the field. She gulps, hands sweaty as she sits back down. No doubt having some eyes on her after all that.

She watches him again, this time he's carrying the ball to the other side of the field. The final touchdown of the night. He wins for their team and everyone there loses their mind. Anakin's team surges towards him in awe, she could hardly hear her own thoughts as everyone around her screams and yells. She's immensely proud of him , the need to congratulate him was strong at that point. She realizes though, with everyone jumping around her, she can't see the field. So, she stands on the bench and searches for him. A large smile on her face as she spots him. Watching him so happy made her heart flutter.

As she watches the teams leave the field she clambers down from the bench and makes a B-line for his car. She isn't waiting for long as he tries his best to get through the crowd. The second they meet he's engulfing her smaller frame, her arms wrap around his neck as they kiss probably for the 20th time that day. He's sweaty under the clothes he changed back into, it only makes her wanna take them off.

Anakin presses her back into his car's door, momentarily forgetting where they are. Y/n taps his shoulder as the sound of people talking get closer.

"You did amazing, I'm so proud of you." She praises, pressing another kiss on him.

"All thanks to you, my good luck charm. Do you wanna head outta here?" He smiles, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. She nods before slipping out from under him and getting in the passenger side, telling him to drive to her place. The ride there was pure tension, she played with his calloused hands and praised him more as they neared closer and closer to her building. Neither of them addressed the very obvious pent-up sexual tension suffocating them. Opting for letting it grow--thrive. It would pay off in a matter of time.

Her shutting the apartment door behind her signaled for Anakin to throw his self-control out of the window. He walked her backward with tight hands on her waist as they made out through her apartment, trying to get to her bedroom. Once there, he plants a firm hand on her chest and pushes her down to her bed. The sight of her looking up at him, waiting for him to please her caused more blood to navigate south within him.

“Ever since I saw your cute little room I wanted to do this. Wanted to take you in the most disgusting way possible, see you sob against your pink sheets, all because of me.” He confessed, lowering himself to hover over her.

She couldn’t deny the way that made her feel, all of her ex’s made her feel like a dumb child when they saw her room. So she felt her panties dampen and her thighs rub together at his words. Anakin smirks when he notices the movement. “You like that, Cutie? You like when I talk to you like that?” He leans in to kiss her, cutting off her answer. His skillful tongue licks into her mouth, practically going down her throat the harder he becomes. The kiss is ended with a harsh suck to her tongue.

The man above her continues his assault across her jawline and below her ear, where he begins to get messy with his kisses. He sucks and nibbles all the way down to her collarbones, where he deems she’s wearing too much clothing.

“Take off your shirt for me, Cutie.”

This is it, she gulps as she takes hold of the hem of her shirt and drags it off—showing off the top half of her skimpy cheer costume. He loudly sucks in a breath before pushing her chest back down to the bed and forcefully taking off her pants himself. He throbs in his jeans at seeing the entirety of what she’s wearing.

“What’s all this, baby?” He bites his lip, his hands roaming her exposed skin. A seductive grin takes ahold of his lips as he drinks her in.

“You said you needed a cheerleader, didn’t you?”

“Fuck.” He mumbles, gripping her knees to spread her legs accordingly. Anakin eyes the thong she’s wearing and makes a mental note to stuff them in his pant’s pocket when he gets them off of her. He slots himself in between her welcoming thighs, erection pressing hotly against her clothed cunt. The kisses that were stopped along her collarbones moments ago start up again, now more urgent.

“God, you’re so sexy. All mine too. My little cheerleader.” He breaths against her, making his way down to her cleavage. Nips and sucks are felt at the exposed skin of her breasts, her hips press upwards at that, wanting to feel him. The material of her shirt is pushed up over her bra, then hands snake up her spine to unclasp that too. She shimmies down the straps so he can throw the item behind him.

“I knew you’d have perfect tits.”

He doesn’t waste a second to lick around one of her nipples, taking it in his mouth after a second. A hand gropes the breast that isn’t in his mouth and the other is splayed over the side of her thigh, moving up to grab as much of her ass as it can.

“Anakin.” She moans, arching her back slightly. Her thighs clamp down around his waist, it feeds into the desire that’s beginning to take over his mind. He ruts his hips into her, both of them moaning at the contact. The smell of her arousal floats between both of them, it has him groaning before harshly thrusting against her. “Smell so good, gotta have a taste.” He pulls away, lowering to his knees before she stops him.

“Wait, Anakin. I can’t wait any longer, please—please, fuck me.”

His forehead meets her knee, his teeth pierce his lower lip as he shutters out a breath. “My little cheerleader is such a slut for me already, hm?”

The shirt that clung to his body is taken off, in the sexiest way possible, as well as his pants. Soon, he’s left in his boxers, his very obvious erection strains against the fabric. “Come here.” He grabs her waist as he slides onto the sheets, maneuvering her just the way he wants until she’s propped up on him. His back lays against her pillows as he slips her panties to the side, her leaking cunt pressed deliciously against his clothed cock.

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, is that all for me, Cutie?”

She tries to pay attention to him speak, but the sight of him, abs all sweaty below her, causes her brain to short circuit. “Don’t tell me you’re already all dumb for me.” He hotly stares at her, hand reaching out to grab her chin, making sure she’s looking him in the eye. “I asked you a question.”

She stares with wider hazy eyes, “It’s all for you, Ani. Need you so bad.” She whines, panting already.

He smirks at her state, loving the way she reacts to him. “Show me then, Cutie. Rub your wet little pussy on my cock and I might just fuck you with it.” His eyes are back to the intense ones she knows so well. But this time, he can visibly see how bad they affect her. Taking in a deep breath, she places her shaky hands on his abs before moving her hips. A gasp is heard pretty quickly due to how hard he is, she wonders if it hurts at all.

Weirdly, he finds it that much hotter how her skirt covers where they meet.

“There you go, keep going.” He praises, watching her with lidded eyes. Her head hangs low as she grinds a little harder.

“Fuck.” He rasps, moving his hands to her hips.

Her clit catches his head and ridges a few times and it’s enough to pull a pornographic moan from her. They’re full-on dry humping now, she can even see a wet patch start to grow on his briefs when she pulls up her skirt, it makes him salivate. “I can’t wait any longer.” He groans out, stopping her movements. A hand on her waist keeps her in place as he pushes down his briefs a few inches to grip a hand around himself. Pearls of pre cum ooze down his head and it has her gulping.

“Ready, Cutie?”

Y/n nods, tossing her head back as Anakin runs his cock through her folds before pressing into her. She’s so wet that in one push he’s filled her to the brim. “Anakin.” She weakly moans out, leaning her body forward to push him impossibly deeper inside her.

“Shit, you’re so tight and wet for me. Just like I knew you’d be.”

“You’ve thought of this before?” She asks, knowing the answer. She just wants to hear his dirty words some more. “Of course, I have. Jerked off to the idea of this cute little pussy so many times. You’re better than I imagined.” Her lips quiver at that, it propels her into raising her hips and slamming them down as fast as she’s able to at that moment. The stretch of him is making her delirious, an insatiable hunger taking over her.

“Just like that, Cutie. Doing so good for me.” The praise has her clenching around him. She tries her best to keep a good pace but it’s proving to be difficult, her thighs burn as her body forces her to slow down. The man under her takes notice and grips her waist, sitting up and laying her down beneath him.

He throbs inside of her impatiently, so he grabs her thighs and pushes them closer to her chest, both of them moan at the new angle. The way he’s now kissing her cervix has her turn to pure putty in his hands. “There you go, you’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you? Have I fucked you stupid?” He calls out, eyeing the way she reacts. A smirk finds it’s way on his face as she tries to answer but fails. The grip he has on her thighs tightens as he feels her clench, the fluttering doesn’t stop so he guesses she's close.

Her hand tip toes down to her clit to messily rub, she doesn’t care how or how fast, she just needs the stimulation.

“M’ gonna come.” She moans, tears welling in her eyes at his harsh pace and the words falling from his lips.

“Do it, Slut, come.” He growls, grinding his hips into hers. Anakin watches her face closely as she finishes around him, then he backs up to peak down at the way his cock fills her up to the brim.

“There you go.”

Y/n lazily smiles as he slows down to a stop.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, yet.” He tells her, pulling out to flip her over onto her stomach. His strong hands pull her ass up, pushing her legs apart with his knee. “You look so good like this, pussy ready for me.” His voice is low and gravelly, it has her dripping.

—

The next morning she awoke to the unusual smell of bacon. A hand splays out on the spot next to her, it’s cold. Cracking open an eye, she notices the bed is empty. “Anakin?” Her groggy voice asks to the open air. There’s no response so she pushes herself to her feet, noticing she’s in her panties and what looks like Anakin’s shirt.

Traversing through her apartment, she spots the kitchen and rubs her eyes. Anakin’s tussled hair and toned back was the first thing she saw, “Anakin?”

His ears perk up. Turning around, he smiles, “Good morning, about time you woke up. I was just about to come get you.” He walks over to her, settling his hands on her hips and placing a loving kiss to her cheek. “I made breakfast, go sit down.” He nods to the table. “I didn’t know you were so motherly.” She smiles, sitting down at a chair.

“Just for you.” He murmurs, getting out cups.

Eating breakfast beside him was odd, not in a bad way though. Waking up to him was truly the best feeling. “What time do you work today?” He asks, shoveling the last of his food in his mouth.

“Uhh 4, and tomorrow the shop isn’t open.”

“Oh, so I get you the whole day? I’m honored.” He says as they both get up to put dishes in the sink. Hands on the counter, she turns around to face him. He gladly leans in and traps her between him and the surface, the kiss they shared was sweet, it made her heart swell.

“I should go back to my place to get cleaned up. I’ll miss you.” He punctuates that with a kiss, or two, or three. She giggles in return, teasingly pushing him away as he goes back for more. “When I come back you better be in the same outfit, you look amazing in my clothes.” He leans into her ear to say, playfully nipping at her neck. “Anakin…” She laughs.

—

A few days have passed, Y/n sits at her desk doing her homework as she gets a call. She recognizes that it’s associated with her university. She answers it and her jaw drops. Her painting was accepted into the art show. She springs up from her bed and squeals when the call is over. The first thing she thinks of is telling Anakin, but, maybe it would be better if it was a surprise.

“Anakin it’s a school night.”

“We’re adults, Y/n. We’re not in middle school anymore, plus it’ll be fun.” He tries persuading her. Currently his friends and him are going to see a movie, it’s about 9:00 so Y/n is a little worried. She hums from over the phone in thought, “Fine, is your car even big enough for all of us?” She asks, playing with the strings of her sweat pants.

“I’ll pick you up and we’ll meet them there, don’t worry.” Y/n hums again.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

As he pulls up to her building, he can’t help but be nervous as well. His friends can be a little…intense, and he knows Y/n is the opposite of that. But he really wants his girlfriend and his friends to meet.

“Hey, Beautiful. I missed you.” He smiles, leaning in to leave a peck on her lips.

“I missed you too, what movie are we watching?”

“The new insidious, it looks really good.”

“A scary movie? You should’ve warned me, I’m gonna embarrass myself even more in front of your friends.” Her doe eyes stare in worry at him, causing his heart to squeeze. “Y/n no, I promise it’ll be okay. If it gets too scary I can..distract you. I’m pretty good at that.” He smiles, driving off. Of course, he would say that.

Y/n wipes her clammy hands on her jeans, remembering how the boys were in the flower shop.

Her boyfriend eyes her from his seat, eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, if this is too much for you we can go back. It's up to you." He grabs at her hands, looking her sincerely in the eyes after he parks. "No no, I'll be fine." He smiles at her, giving her a loving kiss before opening his door. The wind whips her hair in her face as she stands, soon hearing the loud chattering of, who she assumes, are his friends. There's about 4 of them, they're already laughing and pushing each other when they reach the two. They do their guy greeting before turning to her. One of them speaks up first, "You must be Y/n, we've heard a lot about you."

"Oh, good things I hope." She nervously smiles, migrating to holding onto Anakin's hand, she grips it like it's her lifeline. The group quickly starts chatting together, Y/n, obviously, the odd one out. The only thing keeping her from running away was Anakin. As they got their tickets and stood in line for snacks, he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "What do you want?" He asks, referring to what snacks she wants.

A thoughtful expression is seen on her face as she looks over the food. "Can I get the gummy worms? Oh and a blue slushee." She says, pointing to it on the menu. The cashier types in the order, asking if that's all. He nods, paying for you both, his friends order right after. "I'll pay you back, how much was it?" She starts digging through her purse for her wallet. "Y/n, you don't have to pay me back." He shakes his head, smiling affectionately at her.

"Dude, I didn't know you were so sappy." One of his friends laughs, of course, they all start laughing at him. Except one, she doesn't know his name but she knows she doesn't like him. The way his eyes undress her makes her feel dirty and exposed. The 3 pounds of drinks, popcorn, and candy they get is dispersed amongst them. Since they are college boys, they pick the seats way at the back of the theater. She doesn't mind too much though, having Anakin with her soothes her nerves.

As she sits down, Anakin sits to her left, and to her dismay, the one friend sits to her right. The tension the guy brings has her scooting closer to her boyfriend.

Sitting through the ads was tough, she couldn't constantly keep talking to Anakin since he was talking to his friends, so she had to sit there, eating the popcorn that sat in Anakin's lap.

The lights dimmed as she reached for him, clasping one of his hands in between both of hers.

During the movie she had the weirdest feeling of being watched, it chilled her more than the cold theater air. Or, maybe not. She didn't realize how cold it was until right now.

"Anakin, I'm gonna get my jacket from your car, can you give me your keys?" She whispers.

He nods, digging in his pocket and giving her them. Carefully, she gets up, avoiding knocking into everyone's legs as she sidesteps through the aisle.

Moments later when she turns around from locking the car again, jacket in hand. She spots Anakin, his friends, and a security guard outside by the doors. Eyebrows furrowing, she gets closer, the security guard then goes inside, leaving the rest of the men. "What happened? Are you okay?" She noticed one of the guys with a busted lip and bloody nose.

"Let's go, Y/n." Her boyfriend says sternly, dragging her back to the car by the hand. "Anakin? You're scaring me."

Once they sat in the car, her body turned towards him, "Anakin." She says again, waiting for an explanation. The man sighs, rubbing his hands over his face before muttering. "I punched Cody." She's not sure who that is, but she guesses it's the one with the bleeding nose and lip. "What? Why? I thought you were friends."

He sighs again, looking over at you. "He was saying some stuff about you, that I won't repeat. I couldn't control myself after that, then we got kicked out." Y/n was stunned, what could've he possibly said about her that made Anakin so blood thirsty? "Oh." She was obviously a little hurt, not by him, but by the friend. She thought she was doing a good job at talking to them.

"Don't let him get you down, though. You mean so much to me, Y/n, More than I can put into words, let's go home." He runs a hand through his hair before reversing out of his parking space, a stern look still on his face.

That night when they got to her house, he changed into the clothes he brought over and clung to her. They were both on their sides facing each other in bed, her head pressed into his chest, and a firm arm was around her waist.

"Y/n."

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

She does as he requested and tipped her head up, locking eyes with him even through the darkness. His hand on her waist drifts up to comb through the hair beside her ear, before resting on her neck to pull her lips to his properly.

"I love you." He breaths against her mouth, kissing her once more.

"You do?" She asks, reaching up to press her hand onto his. Nobody except her parents has told her that before, especially with the pure adoration that Anakin held. "Of course, I do. The first time I ever saw you, you ran me over with your painting. I was hooked from the beginning." He smiles, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

Her eyes widen, "That was you?"

"Yes, and I couldn't be more happy about it." He spoke so close to her lips, they brushed against each other after each word. "I love you too." She responds, initiating the last kiss before they sleep. After that, they broke apart so Anakin could lean his head on top of hers, listening to her breathing slow as she falls asleep.

Getting through her classes was tough, there was only one more day until the art show. Y/n tried her best not to think too much about it, though.

"Here, Cherry. Here, Bear." She calls, putting food into their dishes. As she sits and pets them while they eat, her mind drifts to what Anakin's reaction might be to seeing his own eyes on display. She can only hope it doesn't weird him out, he's her first boyfriend since her Junior year of high school. He even told her he loves her. But, she knew if he did have an adverse reaction to it, she would understand. Her head lay on her knee as she processes all of her emotions at once.

That day at the shop the bell rang, signaling a customer.

"Welcome in..." She trails off. "Anakin, what are you doing here?" Y/n gasps, eyes sparkling. The man smiles while shrugging. "Just looking around, I suppose." She hums, "Let me know if you need any help, okay?" He nods at her words, stepping around an aisle. It doesn't take him too long to pick out what he's looking for.

He places down a singular rose, readying his wallet. "Alright, that'll be $1.25." He hums in return, plucking out 2 one dollar bills. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll miss you." Anakin tells her as she gives him his change. "I'll miss you more, Ani." They cement their words with a kiss and then he leaves, waving at her as he does so.

—

Her hands visibly shake when she steps up to his car, it’s already dark outside so she hopes he can’t see. Y/n decided to wear a nice looking dress, she thought it would be nice since her art is in the show n all. “Wow, you look amazing. If you change your mind and wanna stay home tonight just lemme know.” He jokes.

“Tempting.” She smiles back as they finish greeting each other.

“I gotta grab my jacket from the trunk, one second.” He says as he pops the trunk open. A moment later he’s running back, half of his body is outside the car he leans inside. "For you." The red rose he bought from her in his hand, the smile that erupts onto her face has her cheeks hurting.

“Anakin, you’re so sweet.”

“Whoops sorry, here’s the rest.” She looks at him confused before he moves fully in front of the open door, a large bouquet of roses sit in his hands.

Instead of her usual sweet reply, she stares at him as he sits down in the driver's seat, the roses taking up quite a bit of space. Her eyebrows are furrowed as her mouth is still open in awe. She tries to stop the feeling of tears but it’s no use, they well up in her eyes and begin to drip and trickle down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, Cutie.” His eyes soften at her.

She gains some courage to reach out and grab the flowers, looking down at them with her, now, very wet cheeks. “You really didn’t have to.” She sniffles, wiping her tears and nose with her sleeve. “I wanted to, I love you, Y/n.”

She sniffles once more, “I love you too. Thank you.” Anakin’s not sure whether she’s thanking him for the flowers or his feelings towards her, but it makes him feel good either way. During the ride she decides to put the flowers in the back, the need to hold onto him after that was strong.

“Where are we going first?” They see a bunch of people around the school, not sure where the official entrance is.

She looks around at the outside venue before pointing to the place she wants to start looking around, knowing her piece is the opposite way.

It was unbelievably nice to look around and chat about the art pieces, some are statues, clay, and of course, paintings. Now, the moment she’s been dwelling on. She spots her painting a few feet down. “Wow, these paintings are so pretty.” Y/n says, trying to make it seem like something wasn’t eating her up inside. The natural speed of their walking, and brief stops, finally brought them to her painting. A sign in front of it spells out his name as the name of the piece, and her name as the author is right under it. Anakin’s hand on her back rubs her clothed skin, as it has been on and off for the past hour. His fingers feel like fire through her dress.

Her senses are heightened, the sound of the ground under their feet, the chatting of people around them, and the wind is all very loud. Her heart beat especially.

She doesn’t say anything as they walk in front of her section. “Heh, this looks like the eyes you always draw.” She gulps at his observation, waiting for him to read the sign. In a confused voice, he lets out a “Y/n..?” As he stares at the vivid blue on the canvas and the sign that has his name as the title of the painting, it all hits him at once. She can’t possibly look at him, she’s already having trouble regulating her breathing. But, he grips her and spins her to face him.

“This..is yours?” He pauses, eyes full of emotion. “You were drawing me? All those sketches I saw..were me?” He searches her eyes for something, anything in the moment.

“I’m sorry if you find it creepy-.” She begins explaining herself, but he cuts her off. “Y/n, no. I love it, more than I can express.” He never imagined anyone would do this, would ever take such an interest in him more than his physical abilities and attractiveness.

“I can’t believe it. Come here.” He says, taking her to a less populated area. Once they’re there, he grabs her face gently. His eyebrows are knit together as tears well in his eyes. “Y/n, I, I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Thank you for loving me."

It didn’t very long for them to make their way to her bed once more, this time was different though. She felt it in the air, in the way he pressed loving kisses to the expanse of her skin. The dress she’s wearing is bunched around her hips as he lays in between them, kissing down her thighs.

“Gonna make you feel good, Cutie.”

His nose nudges her clothed cunt, it has her hips stuttering upwards. He smiles as he carefully prods her with his tongue over her panties, soon settling on her clit to suckle lazily. "Anakin." She whines, the teasing becoming too much for her. Her boyfriend smiles before moving up to the waistband, kissing sultry kisses into her skin and the fabric, it ends with him nipping at the clothing and tugging it down her body with just his teeth. She hopes she doesn't go into cardiac arrest because of him.

His large hands grip her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and spreading her wide with two fingers. "Such a pretty pussy for me, Cutie." He mumbles into her as he licks firmly up her slit to her clit. Her back reacts first, then her hands get lost in his hair. She's never been eaten out before, the feeling coupled with the perpetrator being Anakin made her mind fuzzy. He eases his tongue inside of her, licking around before he groans. The vibrations pulling a loud moan from Y/n.

"I knew you'd taste good, so perfect for me."

His praise added a new layer of heat to her face and chest, the dress she was wearing suddenly very hot. Anakin narrowed in on her clit, his finger pulled back the hood so he could suck purely on the bundle of nerves. A choked whine leaves her, her back arches fully at the sensitivity. The liquid fire in her gut spreads like lava as she unexpectedly comes, the moans are stuck in her throat as she processes the euphoria flowing through her. His sucking becomes gentler as he prolongs her orgasm.

"You did so good for me, Baby. God, you drive me crazy. You see what you do to me?" He hotly asks, pushing his jeans down enough to grip his erection through his briefs. An ache settles in her pelvis, the need to be filled becoming almost unbearable. "I need you, Anakin. Feel so empty without you." His eyes close for a second before he fully undresses, soon doing the same to her as she pushes the material of her dress up and over her head. The both of them feeling the effects of the other person.

He pushes in and leans down, catching her lips in a kiss. "I love you, Y/n." She mutters back the sentiments, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the initial stretch of him. The veins that line his shaft are felt through her tight walls, it drives her crazy.

"Fuck, so tight for me." He mumbles, dropping so their bodies are pressed flush against each other. His head rests on her neck as he picks up his pace, rutting into her needly. Light lines of red come to life on his back due to her fingernails, the pressure only drives him further into her. The only other sound besides their mixed moaning and groaning is the squelching from how wet she is, Y/n bites her lip in embarrassment, and Anakin's hips stutter.

"So wet for me, love this pussy so much."

A layer of sweat forms between their bodies as he keeps going, and a hand drifts down between them to rub at her clit. His thumb keeps up with his thrusting, only rubbing faster when she cries out. “Gonna come for me, Cutie?” He breathes heavily, planting deep kisses against her neck and chest.

She nods quickly, clinging onto him. “So close for you.” Her voice is a tad hoarse as she speaks up.

“Let go, need to feel you.”

His plead pushes her off the edge. Her hips do as they please and buck up into him, plunging him deep into her. Fireworks set off behind her closed eyelids and her brain lulls to a stop, letting the overwhelming feeling take over her limbs as they shake. Just as she comes out of it a loud groan sounds from him, “Mm, Baby, where do you want me?”

“In me, please come inside me.”

The idea of coming inside her ends it all for him, dirty thoughts and images run through his mind a mile a minute as he shoves himself as deep as he can go. The warmth of him finishing in her has zaps of electricity shooting up and down her spine.

“You did so good, Y/n.” He pants from above her, leaning down to give her a sweet kiss before he pulls out. The sight after he does is picture-worthy, his come leaks out of her and it almost makes Anakin hard again. A moment passes before he takes his middle and ring finger and pushes the rest back inside of her.

“You’re so pretty with my come leaking out of you, my little tortured artist.”

She chuckles out of breath before he speaks up again.

"I know this probably isn't the right time, but y'know how you helped with my botany homework?"

Her eyebrows draw together curiously, "Yes..why?"

"Well, I actually wasn't failing, I had an A in that class but I just wanted an excuse to talk to you more."

Her eyes grow wide at that, an incredulous smile on her face. "Seriously?"

He shrugs, "It worked, didn't it?"

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #star wars smut #star wars x reader #star wars fanfic #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #darth vader smut #darth vader x reader #darth vader fanfic

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citrustan · 5 months

Text

slipping through my fingers [prologue] (myg)

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst, fluff, smut summary: you've always thought you had it way too easy. all of a sudden, your life seems to be taking a few unexpected turns. it's time your luck ran out. word count: 1.4k warnings: none, you're all good > : )

The soft whirring sound of the radiator echoed through your cozy apartment.

It’s homey and comforting to hear the constant hum in the background. Sometimes, you’d leave the window open for the cold air to enter your space just so you had an excuse to use your radiator.

Still, you ought to get that fixed up before your ex-boyfriend lectures you about getting a new one already.

It was one of those days when time seemed to have slowed down. As you folded your daughter’s fresh laundry, you went over your tasks for the day.

You were in no hurry because for once, you had everything together.

The living room bathed in the sun’s golden hue.

Your daughter sat on her favourite spongy floor mat, completely absorbed in creating her new art piece. Her fingers were covered in pink, purple and white paint.

Momentarily pausing, you take note of what type of paint she used.

Acrylic.

You sigh. That would be a pain to clean off.

After putting away the laundered clothes, you remind your daughter to get into the bath.

You stood in front of her with your hand on your hips, “Nao, do you want mommy to run you a warm bath or would you rather shower?”

She simply hums.

“Mommy needs to shower too. You better get in there…” You walk away after adding, “Before I do.”

At that, Naomi instantaneously stops and rushes into the bath.

Naomi was a lot like you. She hated using wet bathrooms, as do you. But motherhood had changed you. Now, you’d do just about anything for your daughter.

As if you just remembered, you yelp, “Hold on! Let me clean the paint off of you first.”

You didn’t want your pristine white bathroom tiles to stain.

After bathing and dressing your daughter in a sage green cotton dress that you stitched yourself, you decide to let her watch TV even though it isn’t time for that just yet.

“Is daddy coming to get me today?” Naomi’s enthusiastic voice stopped you. It’s a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand, you’re happy that your daughter’s happy, on the other, you’re reminded that Yoongi and you aren’t together anymore.

“Of course, he is. It’s Friday!” You match her tone. She perks up and resumes watching the Barbie movie you put on for her.

Naomi would be distracted for a good thirty minutes now.

That does not leave you a lot of time for your ‘everything’ shower, but you were aiming high either way.

While in the shower, you let your thoughts wander to Yoongi.

He suggested you have dinner together because he had a few things to discuss with you.

You don’t think too much of it. It’s probably something about his upcoming business trip. You’ve got everything covered either way.

Your breakup was… inevitable. It wasn’t mutual at first, but you knew it’s where you were headed to.

After five years of dating, while simultaneously parenting Naomi, you wanted to get married. Yoongi didn’t.

You yearned for the validation and commitment of marriage, while Yoongi held steadfast to his belief against it. He refused to confine himself to a traditional marriage.

When you opened up to him about your insecurities about him leaving you for someone else, he grappled to reassure and console you. It worked for about a month.

Your differences, once manageable, had now grown into impossible divides, creating a rift that stretched beyond mere disagreement.

Self-doubt and a lack of validation destroyed your relationship.

The water had almost run cold by the time you finished your shower routine.

You pick out a sage green dress for yourself, similar to Naomi’s, just longer.

In no hurry, you moisturize and blow-dry your hair.

Even though you’re broken up, you still try to dress up for him. You don’t know why.

Apart from some lingering stares, there hasn’t been any sign of a reconciliation since you broke up. Yet, you always try to look good for him.

Although, that’s just who you are. You’d dress up for anyone. But, it’s still different with Yoongi. You especially enjoy his compliments.

The doorbell rang, forcing you to hurry and spritz on the first perfume bottle you touch.

“Don’t open the door! You don’t know who it is!” You warn Naomi, but to no avail.

He’s early today.

Naomi races you to the door, “It’s daddy!” You let her win. You rush to tidy up the living room as you walk to the door.

“You’re so early!” Your daughter clings to his leg. Yoongi laughs and drags his foot in.

“How are my girls feeling?” He smirks at you. “A little troubled now that you’re here.” You bicker.

Yoongi vocalizes a groan, “Why’s mommy so mean to daddy?” He directs it to Naomi.

You smile and wait by the coat hanger stand to receive his jacket.

The apartment feels a little livelier every time he stops by.

“Why are you here so soon? I haven’t even begun cooking yet.” You walk into your kitchen to quickly gather ingredients to prepare a fresh pasta dough.

“No reason.” Yoongi cleared his throat, “Let me help you cook.” You gladly accept his help.

You assign both Nao and Yoongi to make the sauce and the salad.

Soon, your kitchen was filled with the clatter of pots and pans and laughter.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

After dinner, Naomi spends time watching TV and working on her masterpiece.

In the serene quiet of your kitchen, the clinking of dishes echoed softly as you and Yoongi worked in unison, a familiar rhythm of cleaning up after a shared meal.

The warmth of the evening meal lingered; the comforting ambiance contrasted with the weight of the impending conversation.

Yoongi sighed for the fifth time that evening before you finally asked him, “What is it you wanted to talk about? Is everything okay?”

As you wiped a bowl dry, you stole a glance at Yoongi, noticing the hint of unease in his demeanour. Your heart fluttered with a sense of foreboding, sensing something amiss.

Yoongi paused for a moment; his hands still submerged in soapy water. "I... I have something I need to tell you."

You laughed uneasily, “I know. Spit it out already. You’re worrying me.”

The air around you felt heavier.

You set down the dishcloth, turning to face him, a sense of apprehension settling in.

Yoongi stared back into your eyes.

"I... I'm getting engaged," Yoongi finally uttered, his words hanging heavily in the air.

WHAT?

The world seemed to pause for a moment as you tried to process his words.

Your chest tightened, emotions swirling within you—a mix of surprise, disbelief, and an (un)expected pang of sorrow.

You searched his eyes for reassurance, for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

"Engaged?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

You’re hoping he misspoke. Maybe he’s getting engraved or encased or embraced.

Yoongi nodded, his expression a blend of remorse and an unspoken plea for understanding. "It's been on my mind for a while."

“Has it, now?” You scoffed.

WOW, really?

You didn’t even know he was seeing someone like that.

Even though you’re broken up, you feel cheated on in some way.

“I don’t know what to say.” You deadpan.

Your conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of Naomi's laughter, a stark reminder of the delicate balance you maintained for your daughter's sake.

"I wanted you to know first," Yoongi added softly, his eyes a mosaic of regret and an unspoken apology. One that you don’t want to acknowledge or accept.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look down at your floral dishcloth.

You have a lot of questions but you don’t really want answers to all of them.

Yoongi feels ashamed of himself. But he knew he’d have to have this conversation with you someday. The sooner the better. He thoroughly beat himself up for this too.

You excused yourself promptly, “I’ll check on Nao.” Yoongi simply nodded.

Alone in the quiet of the short hallway that connects the kitchen to your living room, you leaned against the wall. A mix of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself against the ache in your chest.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ in my dreams by red velvet ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: this is a self-indulgent drabble series i'm writing, nothing is planned and i'll just write as i go

i hope u guys enjoy it!

find the series masterlist here.

#fic: slipping through my fingers #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x oc #yoongi fanfic #bts angst #bts x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #suga fic #suga angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x oc #dilf yoongi

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straylightdream · 5 months

Text

hopelessly devote

featuring: werewolf han jisung x f. reader

synopsis: his life changed unexpectedly and he’s attempting to cope with the inner turmoil he faces as he accepts the beast living inside him.

genre: wolf au, college au, smut, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

warnings: angst, talks about being a werewolf, and explicit sexual content (smut warnings below the cut)

word count: 5.7k

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

an: I’m reworking and old story and starting a connecting series with skz as werewolves. Thank you @therhythmafterthesummer for helping me edit and figure out this story.

warnings: protected sex, fingering, soft dom jisung, mentions of marking and bruising, knotting

It’s a quiet night, but it’s one of those nights where you haven’t been able to fall asleep. You have too much on your mind to actually fall asleep. The sound of your roommate knocking on your bedroom door catches you attention, before it slowly opens.

“Can I come in?”

Rolling over so you’re looking at the door, “yeah.” Jisung stares at you with sad eyes. Patting the bed next to you he joins you

He seems tense as he lies next to you. There’s a worried look that’s painted across his face. Laying on your side you stare at him.

“Jisung what’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh passes his lips as he turns on his side to stare at you. “The full moon is in two days.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. This is only going to be his second full moon and from what he’s told you the first one was very painful. He was a complete mess the following day.

“Has Chan or Changbin mentioned if it will get easier?”

“Chan said as soon as I start changing freely without the full moon it will start to barely hurt,” he doesn’t sound confident at all as he speaks to you.

“Why don’t you try changing without the moon?” You reach out, taking his hand in yours.

“YN, I’m afraid of losing control each time I change,” another heavy sigh passes his lips as he gently squeezes your hand. You’ve been by his side from the moment he got bit. You took him out to the forest the first full moon he changed. You stood by his side as he screamed in pain changing for the first time. You stayed there until he begged you to drive away. His number one fear has always been hurting you.

“There’s so many things I’m not ready for. First I have to learn how to change on command. So that each time I change it doesn’t feel like I’m dying and then I need to figure out how I even get through my first rut.”

Your cheeks burn at the thought of Jisung having to go through a rut. When he first changed Chan and Changbin came over to let him know the ups and downs of his new life. Jisung was so overwhelmed by all the information he started rambling on about it and mentioned how bad his rut will be at first.

“Do you have an idea on what you’re gonna do about your rut?” You aren’t sure why you ask. Maybe it’s because Jisung is your best friend and roommate and you’re just worried about him, or maybe it’s because you have a crush on him and part of you can’t seem to push it away.

“I’m not sure. I might have Chan and Changbin lock me up. They said the first time will be by far the worst and that afterwards I’m just gonna be,” he pauses and looks at you with his cheeks flushed. “I’m just going to be pretty horny.” He swallows loudly and stares at you awkwardly, “Chan said I’m just gonna be on edge a lot.”

“Does anything help?” you’re playing with fire by asking this but you can’t seem to stop.

“Chan said I just should act on my urges. That relieving it makes everything better.” The tips of his ears are bright red.

“I guess having a girlfriend would help,” you let out an awkward laugh.

“Yeah probably,” he drags his thumb across your skin catching your attention.

“Did you want to sleep in here tonight” it’s not the first time you would share a bed with him. Jisung has always been a person who loves skinship and often loves cuddling with you.

“Yeah I don’t exactly want to be alone. If I go to my room I’m just going to lay there and overthink everything.”

He moves so he’s laying on his back staring at the ceiling. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he looks so torn up. Without thinking you move closer to him resting your head on his chest and putting your arm across his stomach holding yourself closer to him.

“You're not alone Jisung. You never have been,” you listen to his heart and snuggle up closer to him.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” his hand gently runs up your side. “My greatest fear is doing something that would hurt you.” His voice is shaky as he speaks to you. “I need to learn to control this so I don’t have to worry about something snapping inside me.”

You look up at him to see his eyes are glassy, “Jisung I’ve never been afraid of you. Even that night in the forest, I wasn’t afraid of you. I was just worried about you being hurt.”

You hold him tighter wanting to let him know that he's safe with you. You love him so much, and it hurts to watch him suffer through everything he’s going through.

“What happens if I hurt you?”

“It’s not going to happen, so stop worrying about it,” you know that even when he gets frustrated with you there’s never been an ounce of malice towards you. Everything with the beast inside him heightens all his emotions at one point or another but he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

“If it makes you feel better this full moon I’ll stay far away,” you know he regretted letting you go to the forest with him the first time he changed.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” he sighs.

“Will you be alone?” Your stomach twists just thinking about the thought of him being alone out there suffering.

“No Chan will be there, and he said Minho will come along too.”

“Okay as long as you’re not alone.”

You lay there in his arms until you both fall asleep. Your dreams consist of your best friend who is holding you close. You dream of a lazy summer afternoon where you’re both laying on your bedroom floor as teenagers laughing. Things were easier back then. You crave the normalcy of your teenage years, but you wouldn’t give up how things are now. Even though Jisung is a wolf and you wish more than anything you could take his curse away from him, you would stand by his side until the end of the world.

The morning light shines through your curtains waking you slowly. You nuzzle closer into the chest of your best friend. A soft yawn passes your lips as you close your eyes.

“Good morning,” he says softly.

“Good morning,” you slowly pull away, stretching your body.

The day of the full moon Jisung is on edge. He paces around your apartment for most of the morning. In the afternoon he starts telling you about his plan for attempting to work on learning to change at will.

You want nothing more than to just hold him and tell him he’ll be okay, but you know you can’t do that.

Around sunset he grabs his backpack and starts to head out. He gives you one final goodbye and holds you tight for a long moment before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I’ll be back after sunrise. Please stay here, and please be safe,” he says softly.

“I’ll be okay Jisung, I need you to stay safe and not worry about me.”

As he walks out the door you lock it and press your back to the door. You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself together but you can’t help the sob that breaks as you start to worry about your best friend. You know the pain he’s going to suffer through tonight is going to be excruciating. You cry for too long before you force yourself to pull it together.

You try your hardest to keep yourself distracted as the sun fully sets and the full moon rises. Looking out the window that looks onto the city, there’s an aching in your chest as you worry about Jisung.

As night comes you lay in bed barely able to sleep. You get maybe two hours of sleep as you wait for Jisung to return home. The alarm clock on your nightstand reads six in the morning. You listen carefully hearing the front door open. Leaping out of bed, you run to the living area to find an exhausted Jisung walking in. He’s dressed in a pair of sweats and a shirt. His hair looks a mess and his eyes are red like he’s been crying. Without a second thought you throw your body into his and hold him tight.

“Are you okay?” you ask, holding on.

“Yeah I’m gonna be okay,” he says as tears slowly slide down his cheeks. “It was just as hard as last time.”

Pulling away from him you reach up and wipe his tears away. He looks completely defeated as he stands there in front of you. Your heart breaks at how sad he looks. “How do I keep doing this?”

“Chan says it gets easier,” you try to remain positive as you try to hold yourself together.

“When is it gonna get easier?” He drops his head as the tears continue to slide down his cheek.

“Unfortunately I don’t know, but trust what Chan and Changbin say,” you brush away his tears gently. “Maybe before the next moon you should try to change on your own?”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Can we please nap together? I just need to be held.”

“Of course.”

Laying in his bed he lays on his side with you pressed right behind him holding him tight.

Over the next three weeks Jisung is gone often. Whenever he’s not in school he’s with Chan, Changbin and Minho attempting to learn to change at will. They’re doing everything in their power to help Jisung cope with how his life is now.

The first few days he comes home he’s just as emotionally drained as he was the last full moon. About a week in he just seems dazed and tired. You haven’t had to hold him as he falls asleep.

He’s got a few days until his next full moon and he’s a ball of nervous energy.

Sitting on the couch next to you a heavy sigh passes his lips. You look over at him raising your eyebrow curious to what’s on his mind.

“Jisung?”

“My first rut is near,” he spats out, out of nowhere.

Your eyes go wide knowing that his first rut is going to be intense.

“Minho says that from when I got turned the timeline lines up that it’s going to happen shortly after this full moon.”

“Okay you can get through this. What’s the plan?” You assume Jisung and the small pack of boys have already made up a plan.

“I need to stay far away from you, so I won’t hurt you,” his voice is laced with worry as you stare at him.

“I’m not afraid of you hurting me,” you can’t understand why he’s so worried about hurting you.

“The boys said I’m going to have this hunger inside me that will make it where my brain will only want one thing. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

You know exactly what the one thing he’s going to need is. There’s this little part in your brain that wonders what it would be like to let him have his way with you. What it would be like to feed the beast.

“Okay. I’ll do whatever you want. Where are you going? I’m assuming you won’t be anywhere near me.”

“They said that even the scent of you could push me over the edge. I’m going to stay at Chan’s. He said most of the pack will be there to watch over me. Hyunjin just finished his first rut and he said it was intense.”

“What did Hyunjin do to get through it?” You probably shouldn’t ask but you want to know.

“Hyunjin has a girlfriend,” Jisung says with his eyes trained on you. “Hyunjin said it got to be too much and she had to help.”

“Are you going to have someone help you?” The thought of a random girl being with him intimately makes you feel sick to your stomach but you won’t ever admit that to him.

“No I can’t risk hurting anyone, and we both know I can’t just hook up with a random person.”

It’s the day of another full moon and Jisung is just as nervous as ever. The boys have taught him to change on command but he’s still scared. Every time he’s been out with the boys he’s come back slightly dazed and exhausted. He says it doesn’t hurt like it used to, that his body has adjusted to it. He says it still hurts but it doesn’t feel like every single bone in his body is breaking.

Sitting on his bed you watch as he packs his backpack for his night. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he stops and turns to face you. He pushes his fingers through his hair and drops his head.

“What’s wrong Jisung?”

“I feel like I had so many plans with my life. Between school, a career and wanting a relationship and this curse ruined everything.” He sounds completely frustrated by the cards he has been dealt.

“You can still finish school, and find the job you want. This isn’t something that is gonna stop someone from loving you,” reach for his hand and pull him down so he’s sitting on the bed next to you.

“How can someone love me when I’m a monster who could hurt them?” He can’t look at you as he speaks.

You wish you were more brave enough to tell him you were in love with him, helping him go through this has done nothing but make you love him even more.

“Does Hyunjin’s girlfriend love him?”

“Yeah they’ve been together a year or so.”

“Do any of the other boys have partners?” You reach over taking his hand in yours.

“Minho has a girl he refers to as his mate.” You can’t help but be stuck on the thought of them having mates. What does being a mate exactly entail?

“What does being a mate mean?”

“They haven’t told me all the details about it, but Minho mentioned that you feel an intense connection with someone. You also mark them,” his cheeks burn bright red, mentioning marking.

“What’s marking?” You can’t help but be curious.

“Um,” he’s clearly embarrassed now. “You bite the spot between their shoulder and their neck and it marks their partner as theirs. It tells other wolves to stay away.”

“Oh,” you can’t help the burning feeling that takes over your cheeks.

He stands up and looks out the window to see the sun is starting to go down. “I need to meet the boys in the forest.” He leans down and gently presses a kiss to your forehead gently. “Stay safe please. I’ll be back after sunrise.” Your conversation you just shared has left you with the feeling of your head swimming.

You follow him through your shared apartment and stop at the front door.

He stops at the door and gives you a sad smile, “Jisung, before you go I just want you to know that you can have a future with someone. That this curse doesn’t make you unloveable. Believe me someone will love and care for you.”

“I hope so because I want to love someone in return. I want to have a mate who isn’t afraid of the monster that’s in their bed.”

Stepping closer to him you rest your hand on cheek staring into his warm eyes, “you’ve never been a monster. There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”

Laying in bed at sunrise, you wait for Jisung to return home. The front door opens and you walk into the living room to find him standing there looking dazed. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he pushes his fingers through his messy hair.

He stands there staring at you with his warm eyes. He gives you a half smile and drops his backpack on the floor.

“How was it?” you ask, stepping towards him.

“It hurt, but not like it used to. I’m just really tired,” he says.

“Let’s go to bed,” you reach down, taking his hand in yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he practically whispers.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” you pull him into your bed. Holding him close to you.

The last two days Jisung has been locked in his room. He’s even more easily frustrated than he normally is. Standing in the kitchen you listen carefully as Jisung’s bedroom door is open. He walks into the kitchen carrying a backpack.

“YN,” he sighs.

“Is it time?”

He nods as a sigh passes his lips, “I’m on edge and my brain is fogged. I need to leave. My brain wants to do things that it shouldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be safe please don’t worry about me,” turns on his heels to walk out the door.

“Do I not get a hug goodbye?” He’s never left without saying goodbye.

“In all honesty your scent is sending me into overdrive. I think it’s best if we don’t.”

You can’t help the feeling of rejection that takes over you. He walks out the door and you can’t help but feel worried about him. You know how much he’s been dreading this.

The whole day you attempt to distract yourself by doing homework, but you can’t help but be worried about your best friend. At night you lay awake hoping to receive at least a text from Jisung letting you know he’s okay.

It’s ten in the morning when your phone starts ringing. Unfamiliar number is on your screen and you waste no time answering the phone quickly.

“Hello?”

“YN?” You immediately recognize the voice on the other side as Chan.

“Chan, is Jisung okay?” You’re suddenly worried your best friend is hurt or something is wrong.

“Jisung is in pain,” he sighs. “His first rut isn’t easy. We told him he needs to act on his needs somehow but he won’t listen. He just keeps moaning your name,” he pauses, giving you a moment to process everything he’s saying. “I don’t know much about your friendship or relationship with Jisung. But I haven’t ever heard him mention another girl other than you.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You don’t know what you can do to help but you don’t want him in pain.

“He’s gonna kill me for even calling you, but he needs someone to help him relieve himself.”

You swallow attempting to process what he just said. “Are you asking me to have sex with him?”

“YN I’m really sorry, but yes.”

“Okay, text me your address.”

Hanging up the photo you took a moment to gather yourself. This was absolutely insane and you probably shouldn’t be so willing to do this. Looking in the mirror you push your fingers through your hair and take a deep breath. Roaming around your room you start packing up an overnight bag. You aren’t exactly sure what you’ll need or how long you’ll be gone but you start packing some clothes to change into and some hygiene essentials.

The drive to Chan’s place feels like it's taking a lifetime. Your head is swimming as you drive there. Pulling up to a house on the edge of the forest you find Chan sitting outside with a blonde boy you’ve seen a few times.

“Thank you for coming,” Chan says, walking towards you. “This is Hyunjin by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunjin says, giving you a little smile.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“Follow me,” Chan says.

He leads you into the busy house. Walking inside you see a few of boys you’ve seen before. He leads you up stairs to a room down the hall.

“He’s in there.”

You hear a loud moan that sounds a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Opening the door you step inside and find Jisung shirtless laying in bed in nothing but a pair of boxers. You can’t help stare at his toned body on display.

His eyes snap to you and he jumps out of bed quickly. “YN?” He stands there staring at you with lust blown eyes. “Why are you here?”

You drop your bag on the floor by the bag as you stare at him. “Chan said you were in pain,” you take your sweater off sitting it on top of the dresser next to you.

“I’m here to help,” you’re absolutely insane and you know it. You literally came across town to have sex with your best friend because he’s in the middle of his first rut.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering?” He swallows loudly and steps back. “Medicine doesn’t fix this.”

“Jisung I know what I’m offering,” you take a step towards him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he shakes his head.

There is a stinging feeling in your chest, a feeling of rejection. “It’s okay if you don’t like me like that or you’re not attracted to me. I just thought it might be nicer than some random girl.”

“YN it’s not because I’m not attracted to you or I don’t like you. I’m just worried I’m gonna hurt you. I want to knot you so bad,” he practically growls. You blush at the mention of him knotting you. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard of knotting. Early on after he was changed he mentioned it when he was rambling on one day nervously, and when you asked questions be awkwardly explained his new anatomy.

There’s a warmth that washes over your body at the thought of Jisung being rough with you and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to stretch you open with his knot.

His breathing is heavy as he steps towards you with dark eyes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing the world.

“You need to leave now,” he growls.

“Jisung, I don’t want to. I want to help.”

He inhales deeply, stopping right in front of you, “oh my god you smell intoxicating.”

“I can do whatever you need me to.”

He steps closer to you. There’s barely any room between you as he puts his hand on your cheek tilting your head back. He swallows loudly looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.

“I might say some stuff I don’t mean. I’m really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable.”

“What could you possibly say that makes me uncomfortable? Jisung it’s me, I’m your best friend.”

He leans his head back taking a deep breath, “my body burns thinking about what I want to do to you. The thought of knotting you makes me feel like I’m going insane.”

You look down between you to see his hardened length straining against his boxers.

“Jisung do whatever you want,” you say softly.

His eyes snap down to yours with blown pupils. He practically growls staring at you. “Don’t say shit like that. I need you to keep me in check. Tell me I can’t be rough. Tell me I’m just your friend.”

His last sentence catches you off guard, you’re taken out of the moment as you knit your eyebrows together, “Jisung why do I have to tell you you’re just my friend?”

He swallows, stepping back shaking his head, “because if that’s not burned into my mind I could do something stupid.”

“What could you possibly do?”

“I could mark you.”

Your eyes go wide as you process what that means, “do wolves mark their friends?”

“Wolves don’t feel a need to mark someone unless they’re in love with them,” he shakes his head and moves away from you.

Reaching down grabbing his hand you stop him from walking away from you, “are you in love with me?”

“Please don’t make me answer that,” he sighs.

“Jisung tell me if you love me or not,” you demand as a sea of emotions starts to take over you. Your eyes start to brim with tears.

“I’m a monster. YN I can’t hurt you, there’s literally something inside me right now screaming at me to shove you against the wall and take you right now. It’s taking everything in me not to rip your clothes off with my teeth, shove my knot deep inside you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together at the mention of him ripping your clothes off with his teeth. You try to push away the inappropriate thought, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he steps closer to you again.

“You’re hurting me right by not telling me if you love me or not.”

There’s a long moment of silence between you as Jisung stares at you. The room feels small and an aching feeling is starting in your chest. “Han Jisung, if you're too afraid to admit how you’re feeling I’ll tell you how I feel. I’m hopelessly in love with you. I loved you before you turned and I’m pretty sure I fell even more in love with being by your side during this.”

“YN I’m so afraid, I love you so much and I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me,” you know his rut is heightening all his senses. You stand right in front of him and smile at him softly. “Let me help you through this. Not as your friend but as someone who is head over heels in love with you.”

He nods his head, putting his hands on your hips and moving you closer to him. “Please don’t let me get too rough with you. I’ll try my hardest not to hurt you with my knot.”

“Okay.”

He leans down, crashing his lips into yours for a heated kiss. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. There’s a warmth that washes over you as your lips move together.

Stepping away from you with a wild look in his eyes he practically growls, “I need you naked.”

You can’t help but smile stepping away from him. You waste no time stripping down to just your underwear. You’re completely bare from the waist up staring at him.

“You’re stunning,” he says, reaching out and taking your breast in one hand. “I can’t even say all the things I want to do to you.”

His lips crash into yours like a wave crashing on the shoreline. His hands grip your sides holding you close to him. You can’t help but moan as his hand moves down to grip your butt pulling you close.

Tilting your head back, his lips trail down your neck gently nipping at the skin.

“Jisung,” you moan loudly.

“I never thought I would hear you moan my name,” he groans with his lips against your skin.

“Please get fully naked and lay on the bed so I don’t manhandle you,” he steps away from you.

“Okay,” he’s trying his hardest not to hurt you.

Stripping away your last layer of clothes you lay down on the full size bed under the window. He strips away his own clothes and his hardened length slaps against his stomach catching your attention.

He crawls on the bed and sits on his hunches between your legs. His hands rub and down your sensitive skin on your inner thighs.

“I’ve wanted this forever for so long. Even before I turned, but when I turned I just craved you even more,” he groans. He presses his lips on your stomach. “There’s this voice inside my head that just keeps telling me all things I want to do to you. You turn me on so much it’s hard to control myself.”

“Jisung do whatever you want to me,” you can’t help but wonder about all the dirty things he’s thought about doing to you.

“I can’t lose control, no matter how much I want to lose myself in you,” he runs his finger through your already wet folds. “I can’t hurt you.”

His index finger does lazy circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his other hand rubs your thigh. You moan softly at the overwhelming feeling. Your eyes are focused on him as he stares at you. His finger slides into you slowly.

“Jisung please enough of this. I just want you,” you moan.

He moves away from you and lays on the bed next to you. You look over at him confused on what he’s doing.

“Condoms are in the nightstand, I need you on top. I can’t risk getting too rough. Hyunjin’s girlfriend still has bruises from Hyunjin first rut.”

Crawling off the bed you grab a foil packet from the night stand and tear it open. Crawling onto the bed you slide the rubber down his hardened length. He groans as you touch him. He’s so hard it looks absolutely painful. You straddle his waist with his erection right in front of you. Biting your bottom lip you stare at Jisung who looks feral staring up at you. Taking his length in one hand you move so you’re hovering over him. He holds his breath as you slowly sink down. Once he fills you completely you sit there on him with your hands resting on his chest.

“Han Jisung I love you,” leaning down your nose rested against his. You press your lips to his for a heated kiss.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to move because I feel like I’m dying.”

Pulling away you rest your hands on his chest as you start to move your body up and down his length. His hands tightly grip your hips as you move up and down his length. The room is filled with the echoing sounds of skin hitting skin, and the low moans passing Jisung’s lips. The sight of Jisung under you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth is a sight you want to remember for the rest of your life.

“Please go faster,” he whimpers. It’s clear he’s trying his hardest to keep control of himself.

“Anything for you,” you moan.

You pick up the pace going as quickly as you can. His hand moves to grip your butt kneading your skin and earning a low moan from you.

His head rolls back and you see the sight of his fangs showing. Your hand moves towards his jaw tilting his head down to look at you. “Are you gonna mark me?” You ask if his fangs are showing because he wants to mark you. The thought of him marking is so intriguing to you, and you can’t quite explain why.

“I can’t. Not yet,” he growls.

“Did Hyunjin mark his girlfriend?”

He grips your hips tightly causing you to still completely. His eyes are wild as he stares at you as he sits up holding your body close to him as you sit on his lap.

“He marked her, but this is different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just mark you because I told you I love you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he softens under your touch, “am I your mate?”

“I believe so. I feel a connection towards you I haven’t ever felt towards someone before. I love you so much.”

“Then why don’t you mark me?”

“Because I want this to be more romantic. I don’t want to do it just because I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he sighs, dropping his head to your shoulder. His lips gently press a kiss to the area he would mark.

“Okay Jisung,” you push him back down on the bed. You smile down at him as you start to move your hips again.

“You better take me on a date after this,” you say, rolling your hips. A small smile spreads across his lips as he stares up at you.

“I will do anything for you,” he says, gripping your hips again.

You ride him until you find your release. The coil in your stomach snaps and a warm wave washes over you, the sweet release you find is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly not caring if any of the other boys in the house hear you. His hand tightly grips your hips as he continues to move you up and down his length as he chases his own release. There’s a stretching feeling in your core you've never experienced before. Your eyes go wide realizing his knot is expanding. You moan his name adjusting to the feeling.

He moves your body slowly up and down his length. Each time his slowly expanding knot catches your entrance you can’t help but moan.

“Are you going to let me knot you and fill you up?” He groans. The lusted filled haze is taking over his brain.

Silently you nod unable to form words. “Does it hurt baby?”

“No,” you practically scream, still adjusting to the feeling.

“I knew you could take it.” He starts pressing wet kisses up your neck as he chases his high.

He slams you down on his lap coming undone moaning your name. Leaning forward you collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close as you both pant trying to catch your breath. This is a moment you want to live in for the rest of your existence.

“I love you,” he whispers, never letting go.

He holds you close reminding you that you are locked together for a while. You lean back a little to look at his beautiful face.

“Sit up for me baby,” he says softly.

With your bodies still locked together you’re resting on your knees as you sit on his lap. His hand gently rests on your hips that are already starting to show fingerprint shaped bruises.

“I hurt you,” he sighs.

“Jisung, you didn’t hurt me. Please don’t ruin this moment by worrying about some bruises. Please just hold me.”

He sighs and lays back down. “Promise me if I ever hurt you, you’ll let me know.”

“I promise, now please hold me before round two.”

He smiles and kisses the top of your head, “I see you already want another round while we’re still locked together.”

Laying in his bed he holds your hand tightly. Tomorrow is another full moon, and even though he can now easily change at will. The full moon still scares him. You curl your body close to his resting your head on his chest. Your leg is resting across his stomach as you cling to him.

“Jisung?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s going to be way easier than it’s been,” you say softly.

“I’m trying to tell myself things are getting easier,”

Things between you and Jisung are different, but it’s for the better. He pushes your hair to the side and looks at the crescent shaped mark on your skin that’s starting to fully heal.

“Did you want me to stay here or did you want me to go to Chan’s place with Minho’s mate, and Hyunjin’s girlfriend?”

“You can stay with the other girls, if you would like,” he runs his fingers across your mark.

“If I stay at Chan’s house, I’ll be closer to you.”

“You won’t have to wait for me. I'll just join you in bed.”

You lay there holding each other. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, and you can’t help but fall more and more in love with every beat of his heart.

Regarding my taglist: I’m tagging so many people like 300+ people and the the amount of reblogs and interactions I’m getting compared to my taglist make me quite sad. I kindly ask if you request to be tagged that you interact with my writing. It takes me a really long time to make sure I tag everyone. Im going to start removing silent readers and blank blogs to make tagging easier. If you want to on a taglist the form is still open. Im just really asking for interaction if I’m spending the time to tag you.

Thank you to anyone who has been replaying to the post and reblogging them.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz #han jisung #Han jisung smut #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #stray kids werewolf au #skz wolf au #Han jisung werewolf #admist the chaos #chaos series #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids insert reader #han jisung insert reader

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psychedelic-ink · 3 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmarcus pike x art historian!reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to lovers, forced proximity, smut, minors dni,

word count: 6k

summary: when a famous art collector is murdered, circumstances lead you to be temporary roommates with Marcus Pike.

warnings: oral sex (marcus receiving), marcus getting spoiled, some very mild angst, idiots in love

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @sevillagrenada! thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

** dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Another day, another handsome detective at your doorstep.

It’s been a few months since you and Marcus first got acquainted. He had visited you during one of your busiest hours, asking you for information on a recently stolen painting while you were desperately trying to sort out a curated disaster by one of the interns. It didn’t end well. You ended up shouting at him to leave you alone and even though you regretted your choice in showing how distressed you were, it was what it was. What surprised you later, however, was finding him in the early morning hours with two coffees and blueberry muffins. He apologized profusely and asked for a do-over. Something that you were more than eager to oblige.

And the rest, what most art historians like you would say, was history.

Now he visits you almost every morning if he can. Thanks to his charm, you were now considered the number one go-to person of the FBI when it came to art theft. A title you didn’t mind having.

“A bit early even for you, don’t you think?” you say, handing him the folders you’d been carrying. You smile as he lets out an exaggerated “oomph” and go to open the door. “Don’t be a baby, detective.”

“I just wanted to see you, what’s the harm in that,” he answers, following you inside. “I have the day off tomorrow so I won’t be visiting.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Good to see that someone appreciates it.”

He takes a seat as you head for the coffee machine. You’d got it a month ago, saving Marcus the trouble of waiting in line every morning before work. You appreciate having this as an excuse for him to stop by every morning. Luckily, the museum was on his way to work, meaning he was more than happy to visit you. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that this relationship between you two is meant to be nothing other than friendship, a platonic thing. But every day you find your heart swelling more and more at the sight of him. It’s been too long since you felt close to someone. It’s been even longer since you ached for a person you know you shouldn’t ache for.

“Are you working on something with Remedios Valo?” When you turn you see him hunched over your desk, his eye meet yours, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, all these books were just sprawled here. I couldn’t help but look.”

The coffee machine comes to life, the aroma mixing in with the scent of books.

“That’s alright,” you answer, lips feeling numb. “And yeah, Olivier is adding one of her works to his collection so he wanted me to take a look.”

“Which one is he buying?”

You know he absolutely despises the idea of art being bought, hidden from the rest of the world to be a decoration. You hear it in the drop of his voice.

“Les Feuilles Mortes.” His gaze falls back to the table. “Dead leaves. The one with the woman with orange hair and green dress.”

He hums when he finally sees it on the page, “It’s a nice one.”

“It is. It’s one of my favorites.”

You bring the two cups of steaming coffee. His eyes find yours as you place them down, taking a seat. “You must be excited then,” he states. “To be seeing it in person.”

“I’m just happy it’s going to someone I know will take care of it.”

“I did meet him once. Seemed like a decent enough guy.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, “You really hate art collectors don’t you?”

“With a passion,” a soft smile touches his lips. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

You shake your head, smiling into your cup as you bring the steaming liquid to your lips. He’s always like this. Making sure just how much you matter, making you feel cherished, it’s a contrast to how you feel most of the time. Your eyes fall on the painting printed onto the glossy paper. Everyone interprets art differently. In this particular piece, you see loneliness but also a peaceful serenity. The shadow bowing to the woman, them being connected with a piece of blue yarn that she’s holding. The fact that it’s blue and not read also piques your interest. It makes you think it’s not something that is forced, it’s not the fates that brought them together but something else. Something more intimate and free.

“So, when are you seeing this stunning artwork in person?”

“Tonight.”

Marcus already knows that today is going to be a long day.

He knew it as soon as he entered his office, all fellow agents gathered in one place, murmuring. They parted like the Red Sea when he came through. That’s when the captain told him that extinguished art collector Olivier Balmaceda was found dead. Murdered.

All he could think of was you. How excited you were to see him, and the painting, tonight. How Olivier was your friend and what would this mean for the investigation? Everyone here knew you, adored you. You being close to the murder victim certainly wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to be involved in any way, not even as a consultant.

He steps out of the unmarked FBI sedan, his leather shoes echoing against the pavement as he approaches the crime scene. His partner, Tim, follows suit, both agents taking in the scene that awaits them.

The art collector's mansion looms before them, an opulent testament to a life steeped in appreciation for creativity. The air carries a faint scent of antique wood and the unmistakable aura of the art world. As they enter the expansive gallery, it becomes clear that Olivier Balmaceda's passion for art extends far beyond mere aesthetics.

The crime scene, bathed in the soft glow of gallery lights, is surreal. Olivier lies in the heart of his sanctuary, surrounded by the very beauty that defined his existence. The juxtaposition of life and death against the backdrop of artistic brilliance is haunting.

Tim glances at Marcus, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Together, they navigate the intricate dance of art and tragedy. The paintings, sculptures, and tapestries bear witness to the final act of a man whose life was intricately interwoven with the world he cherished.

As Marcus approaches Olivier's lifeless form, he can't help but feel the weight of the art that envelops them.

The art collector's mansion is cloaked in an air of somber anticipation as Marcus's focused gaze is drawn back to Olivier's lifeless form, nestled among the artworks that had once been a source of joy. The forensic team, adorned in pristine white suits, moves with meticulous precision, weaving through the crime scene like careful curators preserving a delicate masterpiece.

"Bullet entry at the back of the head. Looks like a single gunshot," Marcus hears one of them say, his voice a measured cadence amid the artistic silence.

Marcus nods, absorbing the gravity of the information. The team proceeds, each member contributing to the careful orchestration of documentation. His path takes him to the abstract painting, now surrounded by the scrutinizing eyes of forensic experts.

"We're scanning for any hidden messages or anomalies. This painting could hold clues.”

"Keep me posted," Marcus replies.

His attention turns to the delicate sculpture, now cocooned in an evidence bag. Tim approaches, his words a whisper against the backdrop of the gallery.

"Looks like they're treating the whole gallery as a crime scene. Anything stand out to you?" Tim inquires, his voice a muted harmony in the investigative symphony.

"Not yet. We need to dig deeper, find the connections between Olivier and whoever did this," Marcus responds, his words a subtle melody of determination.

The investigation shifts towards Olivier's desk, adorned with sketches and notes – a tableau of potential motives. They meticulously examines the papers, unveiling a narrative hidden within the inked strokes.

"Possible motive here. Let's see if Olivier was working on something that could've angered someone," suggests the expert, their words punctuating the air with a promise of revelation.

Acknowledging their findings, Marcus's thoughts churn with possibilities. Just as the investigation prepares to move to another sector of the mansion, his discerning eyes catch sight of a sketchbook nestled on a nearby shelf. A flicker of curiosity sparks within him, prompting the donning of gloves.

"Hold on a moment," Marcus interjects, a pause that reverberates through the dance of forensic activity.

The team halts, their collective gaze directed towards Marcus as he delicately retrieves the sketchbook. Its presence is unassuming, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. As Marcus flips through its pages, the sketches reveal a familiar artistic style, each stroke a brush with recognition.

"Wait... these look like—" Marcus begins, his words a murmur to the sketches that come to life beneath his fingertips.

Tim glances over, an inkling of recognition in his eyes.

"Isn't that—"

"Yeah. It's hers," Marcus confirms, closing the notebook.

So much for not getting you involved.

“Captain, you can’t be serious.”

Your eyes are drawn to Marcus, his voice holding the tone of nothing other but disbelief. Your eyes turn to the floor. Olivier is dead. Murdered. And the only proper evidence to connect the dots of what happened is your sketchbook. The sketchbook you could’ve sworn you left in your office. The sketchbook that you only kept to yourself other than Marcus and a couple of more trustworthy people. One of them being Olivier.

You close your eyes. It’s exhausting to breathe. You focus on how your nostrils flare and let it all out through a small gap between your lips. Marcus inches closer, hand firm against the small of your back.

“I’m dead serious, Agent Pike,” Captain Lana answers, her voice calm yet cold as ice. “Until this entire case is solved, she’s on house arrest and under your care.”

“Just because we found her sketchbook does not mean she’s a suspect—”

“Agent Pike,” her voice cuts through the tension in the room. A sharp shudder crawls up your spine, your skin prickling with attention as you open your eyes. Despite her tone, she doesn’t look mad. “You will do what is best for our consultant. As of right now, she is linked to the case of one of the biggest art collectors for reasons we do not know. The best thing we can do is keep an eye on her and protect her.”

His mouth slams shut, his jaw clenched. His hand deserts your back and in that moment, all you can feel is guilt. Guilt of him being forced to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do.

To share his home.

“I understand,” he answers curtly, turning on his heel. “Let’s go get your things.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you, shooting Captain Lana a glance, you follow him out of the office.

Marcus hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive. Even when you finally parked, he just took your bags and led you up the stairs to his apartment. Your heart felt as if it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The poor organ was already weighted down by your friend's death, and now one of the closest people to you couldn’t even look at you.

He drops your bags to the floor and you slowly shut the door. You don’t even have it in you to look around, not that it would matter, you’ve already been here before. You doubt anything changed.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything else. “God, Marcus, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

His hands are on you in an instant, lifting your downturned gaze. You blink away the tears, breath catching in your throat as you meet his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in them. You could live an eternity there. “For . . for having to stay here. I know it’s inconvenient.”

“Oh, sweetheart no, no. You could never be an inconvenience. I’m. . . I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I should’ve checked in on you. None of this is your fault understand. None of it,” his thumbs draw slow circles around your cheeks, the knot in your throat growing by the second. “And for all it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here. I would be worried sick knowing that you’re alone.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled into his chest, your senses completely enveloped by his scent. He gingerly cups your head from behind, holding you there, allowing you to disappear from the world for a while.

The first tear escapes unexpectedly. It’s immediately absorbed into his shirt and the rest follows. He doesn’t try to hush you, doesn’t try to get you to stop. He allows you to break down completely. You cry and cry, until there’s nothing left anymore. Only then does he pull back, lifting your gaze to him once more.

“Feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Marcus.”

He shakes his head, “I’m not doing anything you should be thankful for. This…this is what friends do.”

That’s right. Friends.

Your eyes sting when you blink, a forced smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah, friends.”

You’re almost certain that you’re imagining it, but you swear the crease between his brows deepens with your answer.

The soft glow of the TV screen bathes the room as Marcus settles onto the couch beside you. “Really? That’s what you want to watch?”

Marcus raises a brow as he looks down at you. You’re wrapped in a blanket, looking as if the two of you have been living together for years. He loves how you’re already comfortable with the living situation. He wished he could have this in better circumstances without an ongoing murder investigation, but he’ll take what he gets.

“I haven’t started the new season yet, it’ll be fun.”

“It’s a murder mystery. Are you sure?”

You snort, “I know the plot of Only Murders In The Building, Marcus. No need to remind me.”

As the first episode begins, the room is filled with the intriguing soundtrack of the show. Marcus watches the characters unfold on the screen, but his attention keeps drifting back to you. The play of emotions on your face, the way you get caught up in the plot – it's more captivating to him than any murder mystery.

Gradually, you lean into him, seeking comfort in the shared moment. The warmth of your presence seeps into Marcus's consciousness, and he finds himself entranced by the way you become absorbed in the show. Unconsciously, his arm drapes around your shoulder, the gesture protective yet tender.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus grapples with his own emotions. The line between friend and something more blurs as he navigates the uncharted territory of his feelings. As you snuggle closer, he can feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Marcus's mind. Does this closeness mean the same to you as it does to him? He wonders if you sense the subtle shift in the dynamics between you. The arm around your shoulder, a silent invitation, speaks volumes, but Marcus Pike remains in that delicate space between uncertainty and the unspoken desire for something more. The murder mystery on the screen becomes a mere backdrop to the complex enigma of emotions unfolding between two souls entangled in the intricacies of life and love.

Marcus's heart races as he lets his hand linger on your waist. He can feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of your shirt, and he wonders if you can feel the heat of his touch as well.

He watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the same intensity and focus on the TV. It both thrills and confuses him – is it possible that you can be so oblivious to the way he feels?

But as he watches you, he notices the faint hitch in your breath when his hand moves slightly, as if you're aware of his touch but trying to hide it. It only fuels the growing attraction between them, and Marcus can feel himself getting more and more drawn in.

His mind is filled with images of how he wants to touch you, and he can barely contain the urge to lean in and brush his lips against your neck. He wants to feel your skin against his, to explore every inch of your body.

The tension in the room becomes palpable, and Marcus can feel his heart racing. He looks over at you, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of desire in your eyes. But just as quickly, it disappears, and you go back to watching the movie without a second glance.

His hand moves even closer to yours, brushing against your fingers lightly. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, and he knows that you're just as affected by the electric chemistry between them.

His mind is clouded with desire, and all he can think about is kissing you, touching you. But he knows he needs to be patient. He can’t just make a move and potentially ruin the friendship you have.

But as the episode goes on, Marcus can barely pay attention anymore. All he can focus on is you, and the way your body moves slightly with each scene. He can feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, and he knows he needs to do something to release the tension.

Without thinking, his hand moves to your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin. He can see your breath hitch and your eyes flutter closed for a split second before you regain your composure.

He leans in closer to you, his lips just inches away from your ear. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

Marcus relaxes when you nod, eyes still glued to the screen. He knows you want to turn to him, to witness his feelings lingering in his eyes but he also knows that you can’t for the same reason why he can’t tell you how he feels. Fear. Fear of rejection. Of loss of a friendship.

So, his hand on your thigh is as far as he’ll go. Soothing you with the simplest of touches.

The credits roll and the episode ends, Marcus can't help but feel a lingering sense of longing. He knows he needs to push these feelings aside and focus on the case, but he also can't deny the strong connection he feels with you.

As you stand up to turn off the TV, Marcus suddenly reaches out and takes your hand in his, surprising both of you. The air between them is heavy with unspoken words and tension, but they both know this isn’t the time or the place.

For now, they'll focus on solving the murder and catching the killer. But Marcus can't shake the feeling that this shared moment was the beginning of something more – something that could change everything.

It’s been almost two weeks now since you moved in with Marcus. And other than Olivier’s murder, things have been. . . peaceful. He’s been doing everything for you. You’ve never been taken care of to this extent before. It made you feel bad in a way, as if you were a burden to him and now he felt inclined to take care of you just because of the circumstances.

However, you couldn’t ignore the tension either, the chemistry. Almost every night you thought of when the two of you watched TV. How close the two of you were. You often find yourself thinking about how differently that night could’ve ended. Only if you were brave enough, then maybe the friendship could’ve escalated into something more.

While heating leftovers for the both of you from last night, the door clicks open. You expect to see his smile, the same question on his lips asking how your day was—but all you can see in his eyes is exhaustion. He forces a smile when he sees you, then silently heads to his room. Your lungs cave in on itself. Your body buzzing with worry, you look down at the barely heated leftovers. He deserves something more. Something fresh.

So, as you quickly head down the hall to check on him, you order his favorites. You come to a halt at the door, heart beating in your throat, you knock.

“I’ll be right there,” he says, almost apologetically, which makes you feel even worse.

“I just wanted to check if you’re alright. Can I. . . Can I come in?”

You’re about to head back to the living room when the door slowly opens. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt wide open, exposing skin. You barely manage to tear your gaze away. He looks vulnerable, defeated.

“I’m okay,” he clears his throat. “I promise.”

You ignore what he says and take a step forward, forcing the both of you inside the bedroom. It smells of cinnamon. “I ordered us some food from that place you like. We have some time to relax.”

“Relax?”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding and trap his face between your hands. You want to make him feel good. You want to pamper him. At least this one time, you want to do something for him instead. You know what his answer is going to be if you ask him about his day—he’ll brush you off, because it’s the case you’re involved in. The murder of your friend.

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.”

His eyes widen, lashes fluttering, his lips part, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” You quickly add when you see the hesitation growing in his eyes. “Please.”

You notice the hollow in his cheek, the way his jaw moves as he chews on the inside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest. After what feels like hours, his head jerks in a small nod, “Okay.”

Marcus gently falls onto the bed and you drop to your knees, taking a place between his spread legs. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze intense as you fumble with his belt. You tug down his pants along with his underwear, his hips slightly lifting to make it easier for you. His cock is still soft. It makes a certain type of hunger grow inside you. Placing both hands on his thighs, you dip down, taking him into his mouth. He sharply inhales, cock twitching over your tongue. It doesn’t take him long to grow in your mouth, and suddenly swallowing him down proves to be harder than you thought.

Your nostrils flare as you attempt to swallow him down, your nose brushing against the soft curls. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, and when you look up you see his head falling back, his brows furrowed as he breathes heavily through his nose.

Parting away, you suck the base of his cock, your tongue swirling. His hips jerk and a moan rips from his throat. “That—that feels good,” he swallows.

“You like it slow?” you say, lips moving against sensitive skin. “Tell me how you like it. Show me.”

“You’re doing great sweetheart, just do it how it’s best for you,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not picky.”

Brows knitting together, you pull away and fix him a half-hearted glare. You wrap your fingers around and begin to stroke him, witnessing the flex of his thighs. “I want to do it how you like it,” you state. “Show me or I’ll stop.”

Your lips curl as you hear him whine. It’s such a beautiful sound.

“Fine.”

He drags you back down to his cock, your hand falling away. You open your mouth to take him once more, thinking that he wants to fuck your mouth, but instead, he presses your lips to the side of his cock. You feel the heat of him, the bulging of his veins.

“Wrap your lips,” he rasps and when you do, he starts to move your head up and down.

You let out a muffled moan, the vibrations sending shivers down Marcus’ spine. His movements are slow, almost as if he’s fucking himself deep into you—almost as if he’s been thinking about this for months. Your head bobs up and down, your lips pursed around him tightly. You hear him grunt above you, and you can tell that he’s struggling to keep himself in control.

“Put your hands back on my thighs,” Marcus commands, and you do so without hesitation. “I want to feel the bite of your nails.” His thighs are shaking beneath your touch, and you can feel the coiled tension inside him, just waiting to snap. You do as he asks, digging your nails slightly into the flesh. Another whimper falls for him, a sounds desperate and needy at the same time. He pulls up and finally slips himself into your warm mouth, your eyes water as he pushes you down, taking him whole.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Marcus grunts, his voice punctuated by the wet sounds of your mouth on his cock.

You keep up the pace, eager to please him. You can feel his cock growing harder and harder inside your mouth, and you can tell that he’s close. You swirl your tongue around him, pressing your lips even tighter around him.

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “I’m gonna—”

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases into your mouth with a deep groan, his hips bucking up into your face. You eagerly take him in, swallowing around him as he spills, hot come trailing down your throat. He lets out a heavy sigh, his body going limp as he comes down from his orgasm.

You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Marcus looks at you with admiration and slight embarrassment, his cheeks peppered with a faint shade of red.

“Sorry, that was quick,” he murmurs, tugging you up and pulling you to his lap. “Now it’s your turn.”

He leans towards your lips but you stop him by pressing two fingers, they’re soft. “We can think about me later,” you say, despite the inside of your panties being an absolute wet mess. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” he objects, nipping at your fingers. “Don’t you. . . I thought you wanted me.”

The guilt in his eyes is back and your hand drops away from his lips. He’s holding you tight as if you might disappear.

“I do,” you answer tentatively. “But I don’t want you to jump into this thinking you have to. I don't want you to do anything you might regret.”

“Regret?” he shakes his head. “What does that even mean? I’m not jumping into anything. I’m not confused if that’s what you’re worried about,” his arms around you tighten, and with that, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You just sucked my cock—are you telling me that was out of pity? Gratitude?”

You cut him off, “N–No. . .”

“Then what was it?” his voice drops dangerously low, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I’m one hundred percent here. It has nothing to do with the case. And for you to do something just because you felt bad for me. . . I thought we were finally getting somewhere after all of this.”

“Marcus—”

“I think I want to be alone right now,” he turns his head away from you but doesn’t do anything to push you off of him. Your apology dies in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. You slowly move away, the taste of his come still in your mouth as you contemplate what to do. What to say.

But whatever you were planning evaporates with the ring of the doorbell.

You’re sitting on the couch when Marcus comes home and sits on the armchair right across from you. You’re eyes slowly shift from your phone to meet his gaze, he continues to stare down, his thumbs thrumming over his thighs.

It’s been an awkward couple of days after the argument you two had. Neither of you were brave enough to broach the subject, However, that didn’t mean what happened didn’t haunt you in the dead of night, both in a bad and a good way.

“It’s done.”

His words send a chill down your spine, your muscles tightening, “What’s done?”

“The case. We found who murdered Olivier. . . and how your notebook got there.” Marcus takes a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours as he begins to unravel the mystery that has been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud.

"Olivier's murder... it was someone close to him. Both rival and friend," Marcus starts, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. "Turns out, his friend had been eyeing the same collection for years. When Olivier outbid him for that prized painting, it pushed him over the edge."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of shock and sorrow swirling within you. Olivier, with his vibrant personality and passion for art, didn't deserve such a fate.

"And my notebook...?" you prompt, needing to understand how your own belongings ended up tangled in this tragedy.

Marcus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Olivier... he wanted to show your sketches to one of his friends. He thought you had real talent and he was planning on gifting you that painting."

Your heart sinks at the realization. Olivier, you’re going to miss him. Marcus wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support as the weight of the emotions you've been suppressing finally spills over. You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace a soothing balm for the wounds of the past few days. His touch is both reassuring and grounding, reminding you that you're not alone in this tumultuous journey.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his fingers gently tracing comforting patterns on your back. "It’s over now. You can return to your life and begin to heal."

“Heal?” you blin at him, lips parting. “Return to my life? What does that even mean? We can’t go back to normal Marcus. Not after everything. . . I—” You swallow, the knot thick in your throat. “I care about you, Marcus. I care about you deeply and I just want you to know that. I don’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. Ot that I did it because of the circumstances. I did it because I wanted to. And I wanted to long before any of this happened.”

As your heartfelt confession hangs in the air, Marcus's eyes soften, his expression reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. Without hesitation, he leans in, closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's a moment of shared vulnerability, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

The warmth of his touch ignites a spark within you, a reassurance that despite the challenges you've faced, your connection remains unbroken. In this intimate embrace, you find solace and hope for the future, knowing that whatever trials may come, you'll face them together.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a sense of renewal and possibility.

Marcus's hands move to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. You feel his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire within you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move fervently against yours, conveying the unspoken emotions that have been building between you for weeks. You can feel his heart beating against your chest and it's a comforting reminder that you're not alone in this moment.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a tingle in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, arching your neck to give him better access. His hands roam over your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Your fingers move to his shirt, desperate to rid him of the barriers separating your skin. His lips trail down your neck again, moving to your shoulder, his hands roaming freely over your body. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his hands reach your waist, pulling your shirt off. The cool air hits your skin but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating between you two.

Marcus and you remove each other's clothes. Your hands roam hungrily over his bare chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He moans softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra and gently sliding it off. Your bare chest presses against his, skin against skin, and the sensation sends sparks of pleasure through your body. Your lips meet again, his tongue moving alongside yours, his hands roaming lower to your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You push him down to the couch, your hands reaching for his jeans. With ease, you undo the button and slide them off, revealing his toned legs and the bulge in his boxers. Your fingers trail down his stomach, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

He flips you over, his lips moving down your neck and to your chest. With a flick of his tongue, he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan of pleasure. His hands reach down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs.

As his lips continue to travel down your body, his fingers slide into your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you. You can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs, the tingling sensation increasing with every touch.

In one swift movement, he removes your underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable to his touch. But with Marcus, you feel anything but vulnerable. In his embrace, you feel safe, loved, and desired.

And you know that is something that will never change.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x fem!reader #marcus pike x f!reader #writing commission #the mentalist fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic

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mafiadad5 · 2 months

Text

Try, try not to think about us in that way.

part 1// Genre- smut/ kinda plot?

Warnings/ au- best friends to lovers, 18+, unprotected (wrap it up), degrading, hint of mutual masturbation (bad at balancing attention tho so mostly y/n…), auralism, blindfold/ touch deprivation, y/n’s a little desperate…, may have forgotten things

Bestfriend!Chenle × fem!reader

Word Count- 3.5k+

a/n- I’m afraid part 1 is better plz go read, no proof read lolz… anyways hope u like xoxo🩷 tags- @sunnybutcloudy @marvelahsobx

Summary- You and Chenle has been friends for years now, since freshman year of Highschool, you finally graduate and go on a summer trip that you guys have been fantasizing to go on since sophomore year. You've always had a crush on him, but stopped trying after he rejected you freshman year. Not wanting to ruin the friendship, you ignore your feelings. That's until you're standing on the hotel balcony, listening to the waves crash on the shore as the sky lit up due to the sparkling stars, a cool breeze sending goosebumps to your skin, well that and also Chenle grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Your lips look so tasty when the stars reflect off of them." He looked at you. “Then what are you waiting for Chenle, kiss me then.”

Plz continue on…🎀

"Y/n, wake up." You heard your mom's voice from your door.

It's been the first time you could sleep in since you started college in August, in your comfy childhood bed at that, but of course, you couldn't enjoy it. It seems like you could never get a good rest actually, your dreams are always filled with fantasies about Chenle. It seems like ever since the beach trip you two took together, your dreams has gotten even worst—graphic, and you couldn't stand it. It's been months since you and him talked— well, since he talked to you.

After the trip he pretty much started to avoid you. Finding excuses to miss hang outs the rest of summer, responding dryly to your text, not calling, or even bother answering your calls, just acting strange— and you knew why. There was nothing you could do at this point, he wouldn't let you. Besides, you started college in a different state, so I guess it was best to cut ties or whatever it was in the first place. You just wished it never happened if this is how it would end. You made it out of your room, meeting your mom downstairs.

"You forgot your bag in your car again," She smiled. "and guess who I ran into this morning at the store?" She looked up at you from the kitchen as you sat at the table.

"Who?

"Chenle! He's doing well too, got his own place and everything." You forcefully smiled, taking a sip from your glass of water. "He asked about you too, what ever happened between you? Went on the trip and it seems like everything fell apart." "We just got into it on the trip and decided that we didn't work as friends." You didn't want it to, but your mind instantly geared to that night— the taste of him on your lips, the feeling of him in you, you could never forget it.

"Plus, if he's so worried about me he can just text my phone-" You stopped in your tracks from your phone buzzing on the table, your heart stopping for a moment as you glanced down at the phone, his name popping up on your notification center.

You swear that you could hear his voice as you read the message: "Hey. Kinda weird but I heard you were back in town. I understand if you say no, but do you think you can come over my place later for dinner, so we can... you know... talk." You thought maybe you were just seeing something, shit maybe you were even dreaming again. It's been months, why now? You sat there staring at your phone for a second, the room silent, your mind forming millions of thoughts. You sat for so long your phone went dark again, but it instantly lit up again, another message stacked above the one he sent, a mere: "please."

You looked up at your mom, a smirk painting your face disguising the butterflies and shocked pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. "Speaking of the devil. He just asked me to come over to dinner to talk." Your mom smiled in response, glazing at you as she wiped the counter. "You should, so you can reconcile. Plus, I miss my babies hanging out together.”

"I'll think about it." You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as your mom grinned.

You knew you had no thinking to do— you sat in the mirror, making sure you looked perfect, even better than the last time he's seen you. You knew that you were gonna go no matter what, and there you were, driving down the road that led to his house.

You stood at his front door, nervous to ring the doorbell, nervous of what you would even say when he opened the door, nervous of if he would even open the door. The way you felt about seeing him, you would've thought he was never your best friend. You finally gathered the courage to just ring it and you stood there for a minute, thinking he was just ignoring it, but then the door opened.

You wanted to be the one who looked better than the last time you spoke, but it looks like he beat you to that. His dark eyes held so much expression, and his plumped pink lips that met your gaze drove you insane— it hadn't even been 30 seconds and you already want another taste.

"Y/n?" He spoke exasperated.

"Chenle." You said in response, an awkward smile appearing on your face.

"Come inside, it's cold and rainy." His eyes were wide as he grabbed your hand, pulling you inside. "I didn't think you would come, you ignored my message. How'd you even find my address?" He stood in front of you, a black t-shirt hugging those familiar abs, black loose pants hanging on his legs.

"Even though you stopped talking to me, you never stopped sharing your location." You flashed him a sarcastic smile, his expression instantly shifting to regret as he stepped closer to you.

"I'm so so sorry Y/n, I was just afraid that things would change."

"You decided to start it, you did it, so if anything changed it's because of you. I didn't deserve that." He stepped even closer, a little too close for comfort, grabbing your hands. "I know, and I'm actually so sorry. I'm such a dick for ignoring you after we did that. Please, please forgive me." His eyes twinkled and his voice was weirdly desperate as he held your hands tighter.

"Chenle, we've been friends for years, I could never not forgive you. He didn't even wait for you to finish the sentence, pulling you into a hug by your hands, grabbing your waist. "I'm so sorry Y/n, I love you." He broke the hug, looking at you with sparkling eyes. "I love you too Chenle." You smiled.

"Well, I didn't make dinner because I didn't think you would come over, but I can order take out and we can watch a movie?" He said, walking you to the living room, grabbing his phone as you nodded in response.

1 hour later the food finally got there, another hour passed as you two sat eating, talking each others heads off like nothing ever happened. You glanced at your phone, 10:07 pm. You didn't even notice the time passing by, and was ready to break the news that you had to go, but he spoke before you could even get the words put together. "It's pretty late, and it's raining super hard now, you should just stay the night." You looked up him, a smile sitting on his face as you looked down at your phone, thinking about how your luggage is literally in your car so you had everything you needed.

You haven't stayed the night with him since the beach trip and you saw how that turned out so you were hesitant about going, but he was you best friend and you trusted him— plus, you both learned your lesson so what's the worst that could happen? "Yea ok, but I need to get my bag out the car."

"You brought a bag?" He smiled, looking at you with questioning eyes.

"Yes I brought a bag, I just got back from school yesterday." You said in a mocking voice, getting up from the table and grabbing yours keys. "Oh yeah I forgot you just got back home. I'll go get your bag."

You two sat in his bed, watching a movie, his hand resting on your knee. You already changed into more comfortable clothes. Everything had gone back to normal and that's what's eating you up inside. You can't stop thinking about that night— his scent, the way his finger twirled on your knee, it was all making it so hard to forget.

"So how did you get this house so fast?" You asked, trying to distract yourself as his fingers trailed up your skin, going higher to your thigh.

"Well, I have roommates, but they're not here." He said. His voice sounded more sensual, and his hand trailed up even higher, pushing the fabric to your shorts off your skin as he rubbed your upper thigh. You turned to look at him, his dark eyes already on you. You remembered this exact look and what it meant, and god did it drive you crazy for him to give you that look again, but you couldn't.

"Chenle, you saw what happened last time we did this. Let's just keep this strictly friends and that's all."

"I understand." He smiled in response, taking his hand off your thigh and nodding. The atmosphere was a little awkward, but died down as the movie ended. You look beside you and he was out like a light so you decided to just turn off the tv and slip on your eye mask. Typically you don't sleep with it on, but he has this obnoxious lamp in his room that makes you unable to sleep. You tucked yourself in under his cover and fell asleep soon after.

Chenle always had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night during his sleep, typically he just scrolled on his phone till he could sleep again, and it was no different this time around, even if you were laying beside him.

He couldn’t help to keep glancing down at your body though, the covers hugging your curves, your chest moving up and down as you breathed softly. Your hand rested on his torso unknowingly, but he tried to not think about it, gearing his attention back to his phone.

“chen- chenle.” you moaned out quietly.

“…Y/n?” He glanced at you, whispering quietly, but you didn’t say anything so he thought he was just hearing things— well, he wanted to think he was just hearing things. He couldn’t help but to get a little riled up though, even just hearing your voice drove him a little insane, so you know how much a moan could have an effect on him.

“chenle…please don’t stop.” You moaned out again, a little louder than the first time. He couldn’t help turning off his phone and looking at you. He couldn’t see if you were awake due to your eye mask, but he thought you were maybe trying to play a joke on him, maybe even trying to tease on purpose, but your body said differently.

Your mouth was slightly parted as you gripped the cover with one of your hands, your thighs were rubbing against themselves trying to find a hint of pleasure. He couldn’t control himself, not seeing you like this in front of him, hearing you moan his name again, all needy just for him. He needed you, and he had to face that— and obviously you weren’t thinking any differently, even if your mind told you that you were.

“Y/n.” He shook your body.

You lifted up your head, pulling the eye mask off your face to be met with Chenle’s eyes on yours, and there it was, that look. “You were sleep talking.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice was raspy and deeper than usual. You started to panic, hoping you didn’t say anything about him, you just tried to pretend nothing happened, but it was clear he heard something.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You smiled, slipping your mask back on— honestly, you just wanted to avoid this as much as possible, but he didn’t let you. Before you could turn around fully he grabbed your face, cupping it with one of his hands making you face towards him. You tried to take off your eye mask again, but he grabbed your hand, pinning it to the bed. You couldn’t see anything, but you felt his lips softly trailing over your skin.

“What were you dreaming about?”

you

“I- I don’t remember.” You felt his breath on your neck, trailing further down to your collar bone, making you shiver.

You tried to sound calm and genuine as possible, but his lips brushed against your neck ever so slightly as he moved back up to your face and it almost made you fall apart. His hand that was once cupping your face found its way around your throat. “Stop lying.” He squeezed lightly, causing a light, breathy moan to escape your lips accidentally. “I’m not lying.” The hand that was holding down your wrist was now roaming around your body, slipping under your pajamas pants into your underwear, sliding a finger in between your folds.

“So wet, just for me.” You could feel him smile into your cheek, before he kissed it. “Chenle.” You moaned out, melting into his embrace. “But wait,” he removed his hands and lips from your body, a smirk panting his face as he watched your lip tremble with desire.

“Strictly friends and that’s all, right?” He said in a teasing tone, obviously trying to get in your head, but you did say that so there was nothing you could do, well nothing he could do.

You laid on your back, feeling so desperate that you were willing to do anything to release— plus, you two already have done things so who cares anymore. Your hand slipped lower and lower, sliding into your underwear. You toyed with your clit causing you to let out a small moan as you felt a relief from wanting to feel any kind of pleasure.

“Are you touching yourself?” His voice rung in your ears, making you even more needy. You just ignored him as you started to circle your sensitive bud with your finger.

“You’re that desperate huh? That much of a desperate slut?”

Even though it was only once, it turned you on so much when he talked to you like that, and now was no different, and you didn’t try to hide that. You slipped a finger in your aching hole that was begging for attention, letting out a loud cry as you went in and out slowly.

He couldn’t help but to be turned on by you too, slipping his pants down exposing his hard on.

“I bet you wished it was my fingers don’t you.” He sighed out, pumping his length slowly as he looked at what unfolded in front of him. “Mhm.” You moaned out, his words only making you go faster.

“God you look so pretty, all desperate for me.” You couldn’t see what he was doing, but your moans weren’t the only ones filling the room, so you assumed that he was getting off to you as well.

“Take off your pants, I want to see you finger yourself, fuck.” You took no time, removing your pants with your free hand, throwing them to the side. You could feel him move closer to you, gripping the sheets beside you as he slid your underwear down to your knees.

“Can you go faster for me?” He let out a breathless moan as you started to go faster, your arousal coating your fingers making him go even more crazy. “Want to be inside you again so bad— all I can think about.” His voice was becoming needier and needier by the second as he slowly reached his high, pumping faster as your moans seeped into your brain, filling it with dirty thoughts.

“Fuck I can’t take it.” You threw your head back, biting your bottom lip as you almost reached your high. “You look so pretty when you finish, keep going for me, wanna see you cum so bad.” He said in a tired moan. You let out a loud whimper, legs shaking as you fingered yourself faster to his words. No matter how overwhelming it felt, you just couldn’t stop, you needed more.

“Chenle.” You said, your chest heaving up and down from the intense pleasure that washed over your body.

“Yes Y/n.”

“Please, just fuck me.” He drove you insane, no matter what you did, how much you tried to fight it, you couldn’t and he couldn’t either. “I want to, I really do, but you said strictly friends— I don’t want you to regret this.” He turned to look at you.

“Chenle… we’ll never be strictly friends, fuck me.” He took no time getting on top of you. You tried to remove the mask off your eyes once again, but failed when he pinned your hands down beside your head.

He planted kisses on your cheek again, leaving your lips bare as you hungrily wanted to taste him. He slowly kissed down your jawline to your neck, teasing you as your legs brushed against his. He flipped your hands over, interlocking his fingers with yours as he kissed up your face again, going to your ear.

“Gonna make you feel so good, you want it, yeah?” He whispered softly causing you to almost turn him over and just ride him yourself.

“Yes. Please, I want it bad.” He smiled on your skin, releasing one of your hands to adjust his tip at your hole, pushing himself into you. “Fuck.” You whined out, your skin flushing with pleasure. “You take me so well.” He moaned out as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. The thrust were so much more passionate than the last time, so much more loving, it made you see stars.

“Does it feel good baby?” You felt his breath on your cheek, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your hands deeper into the pillows. “So good.” You moaned out as the thrust got faster and filled with more anticipation. You couldn’t even see him, and he was still making every inch of your body feel good.

“Fuck, you’re such a dirty girl— having dreams about me. Is this what you dream about huh? Me using you like this?” It was something about the way he spoke to you like this that made you yearn for more, that made you go numb. “Mhm.” You moaned out, causing him to go at a speed that you thought was impossible, hitting your g-spot at a perfect angle, his hands now wrapped around your wrist pinning them down.

“You’re such a slut for me.” He smiled into your skin, giving your cheek another messy kiss. “Only for you.” You clenched around him, almost reaching you high, making him whimper out in desperation as his thrust started to get sloppier. “I’m almost there Chenle.” You cried out, throwing your head back as your moans grew louder. “Fuck, take this off, I want to look at you when you cum.” He snatched the eye mask off your face, looking at your glossy eyes with a smirk on his face, soon turning into a gasp.

Your eyes rolled back as your legs started to shake under his. Your lip quivered from overwhelming pleasure as he hit more thrust after you reached your high. “Fuck.” He whimpered out, hitting a few more quick thrust, emptying himself inside of you, burrowing his head in your neck as he came. He stayed inside of you for a second as you two caught your breaths.

“I want you so bad Y/n. I want to be yours.” He looked at you, everything still and quiet for a moment.

You’ve wanted to hear those words since freshman year, you didn’t even know what to say and he could tell. He leaned down, kissing your lips passionately, like he wanted to do all night, smiling before laying beside you.

“We can talk about this tomorrow, ok?”

You thought it was honestly a dream, it had to be, but there you sat, in front of your crush of 5 years, finally dating, at the very beach where it all started.

It took 2 rejections, 2 hookups, and one break, but here you are, with him.

You look up at him, he's already looking at you and grabs your hand. "You look beautiful, has anybody told you that?" His face now in a smile. "Thank you." You said as you turned towards him, the deep blue ocean in front of you, suffocating on your breath as you feel his fingers leave your hand and slowly drag up your arm. "You're welcome", he says as he grabs your waist pulling you towards him. "What are you doing Chenle?" You laugh as he pulls you closer to his body. “Just kiss me.” He smiles, but this time— it’s not a dream.

212 notes · View notes

chimcess · 10 months

Text

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed.

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me.

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from.

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free.

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen.

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it.

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves.

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore?

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone.

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5.

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail.

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea.

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate.

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool.

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back.

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person.

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick.

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well.

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too.

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs.

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me.

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment.

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights.

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything.

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless.

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked.

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before.

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when?

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly.

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain.

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief.

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer.

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse.

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought.

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets.

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist.

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well.

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly.

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds.

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe.

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell.

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes.

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in.

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats.

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor.

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited.

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly.

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure.

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties.

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me.

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after.

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily.

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it.

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty.

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring.

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say. I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements.

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly.

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while.

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do.

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed.

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had.

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed.

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily.

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table.

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me.

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered.

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps.

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise.

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside.

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it.

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me.

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food.

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly.

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn.

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more.

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there.

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York.

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest.

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast.

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied.

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless.

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage.

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease.

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front.

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down.

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble.

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one.

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background.

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry.

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan.

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there.

Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something.

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture.

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease.

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room.

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus.

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be.

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything.

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched.

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me.

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that.

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Reading Romance

Hyunjin x Thick female reader

Word count: 4.2K

Synopsis: While hanging out and reading with your best friend Hyunjin he catches a glimpse at what you're book is about and wants to know more.

A/N: Number 5! Only 3 left to go and I have at least an idea of what the rest will be! I hope you like this one, if you do please reblog, like, comment, hit up my ask box, I always get great feedback with these so I really appreciate it! As usual warnings and smut below the cut.

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, light bondage, pet names (darling, beautiful etc), slight Hyunjin dom/MC sub dynamic (kinda sorta not really), oral (m&f receiving), deep throating/face fucking, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, use of the color system (never yellow or red), squirting, tearing up during sex(?), cum play/cum eating, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cream pie. I think that's everything but if I ever miss anything please let me know and I'll add it asap!

One of the reasons Hyunjin was your best friend was your mutual ability to be completely fine sitting silent in a room together. Whether you were reading, painting, even watching tv, whatever, the two of you were content just existing in the same space and called it hanging out. Today Hyunjin came over to your place for the two of you to do some painting in your studio and you had for about an hour or so. Now the two of you were sitting on your couch reading together quietly.

Hyunjin’s book was a series of short stories that intersected into each other and all tied together in the end. You were reading a book one of the girls from your book club had recommended to you on the low. It was... spicy... and normally not a book you’d be reading around anyone, let alone Hyunjin, but it really had a great plot and you were hooked so you were reading a smutty book, sitting with your insanely gorgeous best friend. Needless to say when it came upon a sex scene you started blushing and couldn’t help but look up at Hyunjin and imagine if you were in that scenario. It would never happen in a million years but a big girl could dream.

In reality, guys that were that beautiful didn’t go for the chubby art chick. Hyunjin was a sweet guy and a good friend so you shouldn’t be picturing him in any scenarios, yet your eyes would scan the sultry words on your page and then drift up to the man frowning at the book in front of him. You jumped a little focusing on your book again when Hyunjin closed his.

“This book is boring, predictable. What are you reading?” You almost choked when he asked but rebounded quickly.

“Oh! Uh... umm... a romance.” Hyunjin nodded.

“Let me take a look.” You scoffed, trying to be nonchalant, but you could feel your ears starting to burn.

“I’m reading it right now Hyunjin.” He mimicked you.

“I’m reading it right now muhmuhmuh, mark your page and let me look at it for a second. If I like it I can just download it on my phone and read it.” You shook your head.

“No like I said it’s a romance, you won’t like it.” Hyunjin held out his hand.

“Do you remember who you’re talking to darling? I AM romance, now let me see.”

“No.” No reason given this time, just no. Hyunjin was very curious now.

“No?” You shook your head again. Hyunjin nodded.

“Okay fine.” You relaxed a bit and Hyunjin lunged for the book in your hand snatching it away.

“HYUNJIN! DON’T!” He held you back with one of his long arms as he opened your book and started reading. Unfortunately, he landed on the page you had been reading and one of the more risqué parts of the book.

“Philippe grabbed his throbbing member!? And shoved it in again, gagging Krista with his hard thrusts to the back of her throat?! What the hell y/n you’re sitting here reading porn?!” You snatched the book back angry he’d taken it instead of listening to you.

“It’s not porn, it’s a romance novel and I told you not to read it!” You got up and started storming off towards your room mad and Hyunjin followed.

“Oh come on! I’m just teasing, don’t get mad.” You turned back towards him.

“I asked you not to and you did anyway. It’s embarrassing Hyunjin okay?” He walked up to you.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, so there’s dirty words in your book, so what, I guarantee I watch porn way worse than any smutty book you’ve got.” You rolled your eyes shaking your head, going to walk off again.

“That’s not the point...” Hyunjin followed grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

“Well then what is it? Are you embarrassed because you were watching me?” Your jaw dropped.

“Is that it? Because if it is... I mean don’t be. If I had a dollar for every time I imagined fucking you I’d be rich.” You tossed the book on one of the tables.

“Hyunjin! I... what?” It took a second for your brain to catch up and register what he said.

“Did you just say...” Hyunjin waited for you to finish your question and then finished it for you.

“I imagined fucking you? Is that really surprising?” You stood there dumbfounded.

“Uh... well... I mean... yea it kind of is. You mean you think of me and you like...” Hyunjin nodded finishing your sentence again.

“Having sex together? Yea. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, talented, sexy...”

“I’m fat.” Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed at you.

“That doesn’t make any of the other things I said about you untrue. So what if you’re bigger. Only a vain troglodyte would care about something so trivial and stupid.” You stood there utterly speechless and then something clicked for Hyunjin.

“Did.... did you think I wouldn’t want to be with you because you’re bigger?” He sounded genuinely hurt.

“Is that how I come off?” It wasn’t, you didn’t want him to think that.

“No! No Jinnie that’s not how you come off. That...that’s just me projecting my shitty body image onto you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” Hyunjin had always been nothing but sweet to you and if you hadn’t been so in your head about images and what people thought you’d have noticed that Hyunjin’s interest in you wasn’t purely as friends. You weren’t sure how you didn’t realize with how comfortable you both always were with each other. There was a reason for that, a mutual unspoken affection.

“You don’t have to apologize y/n. You’ve grown up in a world telling you that you’re not pretty if you’re not skinny. I understand but I want you to know that’s not how I feel. I think you’re beautiful.” You didn’t know what to say. You stood there, Hyunjin still holding onto your arm. He took a step closer and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The hand grasping your wrist let go. He caressed your face and cupped your cheek.

“I’m gonna kiss you now...” You nodded and as he leaned in closer you closed your eyes. When you felt warm full lips pressed against yours sweetly, your hands came up and rested on Hyunjin’s chest and his other hand found your soft hip pulling you closer. He pulled away and ran his thumb over the apple of your cheek as he looked at you. You grasped his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. Lips parting tongues teasing. You only pulled away once you both were breathless. Hyunjin bit at his pouty bottom lip, catching his breath, wrapping both arms around you, and resting his head against yours. He got a smirk on his face.

“So what were you reading in that book that had you staring at me like that hmm?” You started blushing and shook your head.

“Oh come on I already read about Phillipe’s throbbing member how much worse can it get.”

“It gets worse trust me.” Hyunjin’s smile grew wider and he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Well worse is better, let me take another look.” He went to grab the book off the table and you picked it up quickly.

“Hyunjin...no...” He laughed softly. It was cute how shy you were being suddenly. Usually you were confident and spoke your mind around him easily. He wasn’t really used to this timid side.

“Come on... show me what you were reading when you kept looking at me.” You stood there frozen with the book in hand. There was absolutely no way you could show him that part. Phillipe was a French masseuse and before grabbing his ‘throbbing member’ that Krista was gagging on, he had tied her to his massage table with silk ropes. You had looked up when you read it initially, looking at Hyunjin’s hands, imagining his long deft fingers tying knots around your wrists and ankles.

“Look I won’t take it this time, just show me... or... read it to me?” He cocked his perfect eyebrow at you. That was diffidently not happening.

“Fine I’ll show you... but...” Hyunjin tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I’m not gonna judge you darling...” He leaned in by your ear.

“I just want to know what sets your body on fire...” He kissed your neck those insanely soft lips of his pressed against your skin.

“then dumb gasoline on it and give it to you.” He gently grabbed hold of your wrist again and pulled you to your own bedroom, where you had been storming off to in the first place. He let go of you when you walked through the door and made his way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it. You hesitated. Was this really happening? Were you really about to sit on your bed with Hyunjin and show him the smut you were eye fucking him to? He pat the spot across from him on the bed.

“Do you want to sit down?” You nodded walking over and sitting across from him on your bed, book still in hand. He scooched a little closer so that he could see over your shoulder a bit. You turned your head looking at him nervously. He kissed your shoulder and smiled at you.

“It’s okay. I promise.” You gave him a little nod and started thumbing through the pages looking for where you were at. When you found it you held it open for Hyunjin to read.

“This was the page I opened it to.” You nodded and he scanned through the type, getting closer to you, his warm breath fanning against your neck. His breathing hitched when he saw what you had been reading.

“Is it the ropes darling? Hmm...” His lips were ghosting your skin but not touching.

“Do you want me to tie you up? Make you cum?” Your breathing was coming out more labored and your skin was completely flushed. You looked over your shoulder at him again and shook your head softly. He tilted your head and started kissing down your neck and shoulder, pulling the straps of the tank top and bra you were wearing down. His arms wrapped around you from behind as he groped your soft body and he nibbled and kissed your neck. You leaned your head back against his shoulder giving him better access to you. Hyunjin moved from behind you and laid you back on the bed before getting on top of you, propping himself up, looking down at you.

“I’m going to undress you and kiss all of my favorite parts of your gorgeous body, then I'm gonna go into your closet and grab four of your silk scarves and I’m going to tie you up and make you cum again, and again and again...” He started kissing down your neck to your chest between each word. He lifted your shirt up and over your head and grabbed your full breasts before burying his face between them licking and kissing the soft skin. Your fingers combed through Hyunjin’s hair and you held on as he continued kissing down your tummy, then tugging at your pants sitting back and pulling them off, tossing them aside.

He climbed between your legs and kissed the insides of your thighs, gently dragging his teeth across them. He kissed his way back up your body stopping at your tits again, pulling your bra down and sucking on one nipple and then the other. Hyunjin was pleased to see your bra opened from the front. He unhooked it and pulled the straps down and off of you. He kissed his way up further, his full lips overtaking yours in another heated kiss. His hands running up and down your plush body, memorizing every curve. Hyunjin hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulled them down, you lifted your full ass up as he continued dragging them down and off. He sat back on his knees and took in every last inch of your plump frame.

“God I wish you saw what I see...” Your felt your heart go soft.

“Hyunjin...” Your eyes were glassy as tears started to rim them.

“I really do darling, you’d never doubt how beautiful you were ever again if you saw what I see every time I look at you.” He hovered over you and kissed you sweetly, your hands sliding up his shoulders and neck, toying with the pieces of his long hair that had fallen from his ponytail. He sat back up peeling his own shirt off.

“Get comfy gorgeous, I’ll be right back.” Hyunjin disappeared into your closet and reemerged with scarves thrown over one of his shoulders. He lost the pants and boxers on the way back over to you and when you saw him standing naked by the bed, you thought your heart was going to pound out of your chest.

“That book has bondage, does it mention safe words?” You nodded.

“Yes Jinnie.” It had; Phillipe had told Krista about the stoplight system.

“And what did they teach you darling?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down, red means stop.” He shook his head smiling.

“That’s my good girl.” You flushed when he said that, then he crawled back onto the bed by you.

“Hands please.” You gave him your hands and he kissed the back of each before he gently tied your wrists together. With another scarf looped through your arms now joined at the wrist Hyunjin secured your hands above your head and to the headboard of your bed. He lightly ran his fingertips down your body and you softly pulled at the restraints needy for his touch goosebumps erupting all over your body.

“Comfortable? Too tight?” You shook your head no.

“They feel okay, not too tight.” Hyunjin gripped one of your ankles and kissed it before he started tying another one of the scarves around it. He tied the other end to one post of your footboard and walked around to the other side and gave the other ankle the same treatment. A sweet kiss and then tied to the opposite post, spreading your thick thighs for him and exposing your glistening cunt. He immediately started stroking his cock once you were laid out in the vulnerable position.

“You look good enough to eat beautiful.” Hyunjin crawled up on the bed again and took his place between your legs that were held open for him. His face hovered over your clenching pussy, his warm breath teasing you, his full lips ghosting, you were ready to scream for him right as Hyunjin ran his tongue through your folds.

“Fuck you’re delicious.” Hyunjin spread your plump pussy lips apart and latched onto your clit, licking and slurping on you, collecting your arousal on his tongue and savoring the taste of you. You could feel your high approaching and Hyunjin could tell. He slid two fingers inside your wet hole and pumped them in and out as he sucked and hummed against your clit. White hot pleasure electrocuted you from head to toe when Hyunjin made you cum, you pulled tightly at the straps around your wrists.

“Jinnie! Fuck! Oh god!” He stopped feasting on you but kept his fingers curling inside you. You tried to close your legs feeling the pin pricks of overstimulation, but couldn’t while Hyunjin started fingering you harder again.

“Ji-Jinnie I... I can’t...” He cooed at you and slowed down a little.

“Color?”

“Green.” He smiled.

“Good girl, you can and you will.” He started fingering you harder again then spit on your clit and started eating you out again as well, unrelenting between his plump lips and expert tongue. It wasn’t long before your body tensed and pulled against your restraints as you came on Hyunjin’s tongue and fingers again. Again he didn’t slow down, not even the kitten licking your clit, he didn’t stop.

“Hy-Hyunjin! FuckFuckFUCK! It’s too much!” Your legs were shaking, he stopped slurping at you but still kept his fingers lodged deep in your pussy constantly rubbing against that soft spot that sent more jolts of electricity through your body. He spit on your clit again only this time his other hand started teasing your clit, spreading his saliva around the buzzing bundle of nerves.

“Do you know what else I notice in that little page you showed me darling?” You were panting sweat beading on your temples, you shook your head and couldn’t control the level of your voice.

“What!? God what tell me fuck!” Hyunjin smiled and played with your pussy more making you writhe under his touch.

“After Phillipe had Krista tied down and before he was chocking her with his cock...” You had almost forgot and only now, Hyunjin bringing it up, reminded you.

“He finger fucked Krista until he made her squirt.” Your eyes rolled up in your head, again you tried to close your legs but it was futile as long as they were tied to the bannisters. Hyunjin started eating your pussy again, starved, ravenous, and you came again, and again, and again. After every orgasm Hyunjin would part from your cunt long enough to ask your color. As soon as he heard green you were getting licked and fingered into another orgasm, and another and another and another. He pulled away again panting like a mad man.

“Fuck you taste so fucking delicious, such a good girl; I could eat you for fucking hours... color?” You were sweaty and trembling, your whole body was on fire. You only pulled at your restraints now when another orgasm tore through you.

“G-gre- green.” Hyunjin spit on his fingers and rubbed four of them firmly across your sensitive clit as he pumped his long fingers into you as deep as he could, hard. You felt it, you were going to cum harder than you ever had. It felt funny.

“Hy-Hyunjinnie I’m... I think I’m...OHHHHH! FUCK!” You started squirting on Hyunjin and still he didn’t relent, he rubbed your pussy and pumped his fingers in and out as your juices squirted and leaked out of you. Your arms pulled tight at the scarves, your back arching, legs twisting, shaking and still unable to close no matter how hard you tried. Hyunjin slowed down and pulled his fingers out of you, your cum still trickling out after. He softly rubbed your whole pussy which made you jump and jolt from the oversensitivity.

“God that was so fucking sexy!” You laid there limp, panting, and he started licking your cum from your body.

“Was it?” You asked genuinely. Hyunjin climbed up your thick, cum slicked, body and kissed you with his lips, puffier than usual after eating you out for so long.

“Mhmm. Almost came on myself a few times but when you squirt for me... well... let's just say it’s not just your cum on these sheets.” You managed to open your eyes and smile. You loved the idea of Hyunjin being so turned on eating you out, making you squirt, that he came untouched. Hyunjin reached up and untied the scarf that was holding your joined wrists to the headboard and you could finally bring your arms down but they were still tied together. Hyunjin knelt by you stroking his cock that was already hard again. He leaned down close to your face as he kept tugging on himself. He whispered in your ear.

“Can I fuck your face like Phillipe did to Krista too?” He absolutely could after what he’d just put your body through. You nodded.

“Yes, fuck my face Jinnie.” He crawled and knelt over your head a knee on each side straddling you. He held up his cock, jerking off, his balls hovering over your mouth. You started tonguing them as Hyunjin stroked his dick, when you sucked one into your mouth and gently suckled at it Hyunjin moaned and it made you gush. You sucked on his other one and then licked his balls until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Open up darling.” You opened your mouth and Hyunjin hovered over you sliding his cock in between your lips. You stuck your tongue out as he pushed in deeper allowing him further into your mouth, the tip of his dick prodding your throat.

“FFffffuck! Good girl. Are... are you r-ready?” You hummed around his cock and he felt it vibrate through his whole body. He propped himself up over you, gripping the headboard with two hands and started thrusting into your mouth deeper. You gagged and choked on his dick and he pulled out spit connected to your lips and his cock. You took a couple of deep breaths and Hyunjin thrusted back into your mouth bottoming out in the back of your throat again. This time when you choked he didn’t pull out, he thrusted deeper and harder into your throat. He felt a strong gag on the tip of his cock and pulled out, you gasping for air.

“Color?”

“Green.” You choked out before he shoved his cock back into your mouth fucking it hard and deep again. He braced against the headboard with one hand and held the back of your head with the other, pushing you down on his dick, making you swallow all of him, giving you a few more deep thrusts and pulling out again. You had tears in your eyes drool running down your chin.

“Color?”

“Green now choke me with your cock Jinnie.” He rubbed his tip against your face slapping your lips with it before thrusting in and fucking your throat mercilessly. The gagging, choking and squelching of his cock punishing your throat filled the room. Your tied hands started playing with his balls and Hyunjin was ready to blow.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK OHHHH BEAUTIFUL FUCK!!! Can I cum down your throat hmm? Gonna be a good girl and choke down my cum?” You hummed around his cock hard and He gripped the back of your head again pushing you down as he came in your mouth, his seed flooding and dripping down your chin.

“Fuck! Oh fuck oh god damn! Swallow it!” You swallowed what you could and Hyunjin pulled his softening cock from your mouth. You took big, deep breaths, licking your lips and savoring the taste of him. When Hyunjin’s wits were back about him he untied your wrists, and then untied each of your legs from the bed posts. Massaging each one of them, softly kissing them each again. You could finally relax all your limbs and you laid there completely fucked out. Hyunjin kissed your shoulder and neck then your lips, his taste lingering on your tongue. He was stroking his cock again as the two of you softly made out for a bit, catching your breath. Just enjoying each other’s lips and taste.

“God I want to fuck you so bad, I want your arms and soft legs wrapped around me and I want to lose myself inside you.” He kissed you and you could feel his hard cock prodding at your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him. Nuzzled against his nose and place soft chaste kisses to his lips, over and over. Hyunjin jumped when you first grabbed his cock, not expecting it with how tenderly you were kissing him. You lined him up with your warm cunt and slid the tip of him into you. Hyunjin’s forehead fell against yours and he moaned as he pushed deeper into you.

“Feels so good Hyunjin-ah, don’t stop.” He bit his lips and shook his head no, sweat already forming on his brow. He continued to slide into you until your hips were pressed together. You wrapped your thick thighs around Hyunjin, your arms gripping him close to you, no possible way there was any space left between the two of you. Hyunjin propped up on his elbows, held your face, his forehead pressed to yours again as he rocked his hips into you, slow deep grinding, both of you kissing and consuming the other’s moans and soft pants.

“You’re so beautiful, god you feel so good, so soft everywhere, fuck, I love you y/n I love you.” You were coming, tears of pleasure in your eyes as Hyunjin kissed you tenderly.

“Hyun- I-I love y-you.” When Hyunjin felt your walls fluttering around his cock he pushed deep inside you slower.

“C-can I cum inside you?” You held onto him tightly with your arms and legs still and nodded, kissing him as his speed picked up again. The soft moans that came from Hyunjin as his orgasm approached made you want it all the more.

“Please Hyunjin-ah, cum inside me.” His hips started to lose rhythm.

“Please.” You whispered in a soft moan against his lips and Hyunjin came. He pushed deep into you and stilled as his cock twitched and filled you with his big warm load. Hyunjin collapsed on you filling you, softening inside you, his cum dripping out of your sensitive hole. Both of your sweaty bodies completely spent. Hyunjin finally managed to stop crushing you and lay next to you. The two of you laid there quietly, catching your breath until you finally broke the silence.

“We need to shower and clean up Jinnie.” He hummed nodding and started to get up.

“I know...” He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked back at you with his eyebrow cocked and a smirk plastered on his face.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice05280 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64

“Then we need to finish reading that book.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz317cb97 thick reader series pt 2 #skz317cb97 thick reader series

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comradekatara · 7 months

Note

How conscious do you think Katara of Sokka's pile of neurosis surrounding her safety, their father, or the tribe in general?

Basically, how well do you think Katara understands her brother?

[thinks about my own incredibly weird, callous, prodigious, neurotic brother] does anyone truly understand their brother?

just kidding. sort of. i mean, this is a really difficult question to answer, because as i've already stated, sokka doesn't actually understand himself. and katara doesn't really understand other people very well in general. she has a deep, presiding love for humanity that accords her warmth and nobility, but she also has a pretty rigid way of conceptualizing any sort of moral quandary (she is in the eighth grade) and often misinterprets people's motivations and subconscious desires. (very dorothea brooke core)

for example, in "the painted lady," when katara says, "oh, sokka, you really do have a heart!" she's only partially joking, right? like she genuinely doesn't understand how he can be so "cold" and callous." she doesn't understand his point of view at all, she thinks he just doesn't care. and sokka could probably do a better job of explaining his point of view, granted, but i also understand why he's given up trying to reason with her, because she does not listen to him unless they are in grave danger (at which point she forgets that he is her stupid annoying brother and places all her faith in him lol).

so we, as an attentive audience, know that sokka cares about the wellbeing of impoverished villages destroyed by the fire nation, because we remember the first couple episodes wherein he was prepared to die defending his impoverished village that was destroyed by the fire nation, and we also remember his promise to prioritize katara's safety over the war at large, so we are not surprised when he says, "you need me and i'll never turn my back on you" (the sokka thesis statement). but katara doesn't really understand how much she means to sokka, or how sokka thinks, or how sokka sees himself, or how sokka sees their father, or anything beyond what sokka is willing to show her regarding his psyche, which is ultimately very little.

and it's not katara's fault, to be clear. katara is not a bad sister for not attempting to plumb the depths of sokka's twisted mind. even if she wanted to (which, who would tbh. don't look at me) sokka does not let her. being vulnerable with her (truly vulnerable, not just "i can't make things fly around woe is me") would go against sokka's core programming. protecting katara doesn't just mean protecting her physically (dying for her, attacking anyone who hurts her even if it's aang and he really didn't mean to, etc.) but also emotionally – protecting her innocence, her naïveté, her idealism.

like he'll say shit like "optimism and wonder are cringe and you're a loser for having love in your heart," but it's still so flippant, it's clear that he doesn't consider "provoking/annoying her" and "protecting her" to be mutually exclusive (frankly, anyone who doesn't succumb to the urge to provoke their siblings is simply not human and cannot be trusted) and has no problem criticizing her when he thinks that she's wrong for whatever reason, but he also avoids being vulnerable with her and uses flippancy and deflection to mask his more honest feelings most of the time.

notice how he basically completely shuts down in "the southern raiders," how even though he is standing there the entire time katara and aang are arguing, he says exactly one sentence and lets aang say literally everything else. notice how in the pilot he calls her a freak for waterbending instead of communicating either jealousy that she can do something he can't or fear that her ability will get her killed (again, it's probably a combination of both, but does he even understand that? probably not. because he refuses to introspect). which is why "you need me and i'll never turn my back on you" or even his admission in "sokka's master" that he feels insecure about being a nonbender shocks her so much.

katara and sokka's codependency is mutual, and they love each other a lot. while sokka isn't katara's first priority and entire identity the way katara is for sokka, when sokka is spirited away in "the winter solstice," katara basically shuts down, clings to his boomerang with a blanket around her shoulders and refuses to move from the spot he was taken until he gets back, and when sokka is gone for the day in "sokka's master," she spends the whole day waiting for him to return. and like, both of these take place in the span of no longer than a single day. but as much as they love and need each other, they also do not really understand each other, or themselves.

i would say that sokka understands katara better than katara understands sokka, but sokka also just understands people better than katara does, so that's not really surprising. for example, he knows that she would not benefit from killing yon rha before katara realizes it (and unlike aang, he is not a pacifist). but he does have some blindspots, like how he doesn't understand why she wouldn't want to see hakoda in ba sing se (he interprets it as a purely selfless act, which it just isn't), but again, that's more of a daddy issues blindspot than a sister issues blindspot. they also just have very different worldviews. katara primarily cares about individuals whereas sokka primarily sees systems (with the necessary caveat that he still prioritizes his family), katara sees the best in people whereas sokka sees the worst in people, katara misses the forest for the trees whereas sokka misses the trees for the forest yada yada.

but what's important to understand fundamentally is that katara and sokka have both been dehumanized by the fn imperialist project (true of every atla character, btw) and so their lack of self-knowledge stems from the formative trauma of cultural genocide. those gaps in understanding originate from the roles they have been forced to inhabit, and since sokka's entire identity revolves around what he can and must sacrifice for katara, it's understandable that katara would be unable to acknowledge or even recognize that.

and then again, even beyond the inherent tragedy of their situation, no fourteen year old little sister really understands the neuroses and contradictions and lamentations of her older brother. even if he wore his heart on his sleeve she wouldn't understand him, because katara does encounter plenty of people who are far more obvious about their intentions and she doesn't really understand them either. but she means well. and that's what matters <3

#the-wright #asks #katara&sokka #katara #sokka #analysis #i think the person who understands sokka the best is toph actually #at least by the end of the show #god i love katara so much #calling her dorothea brooke core made me rly emotional? lol #like she doesnt really understand but it doesnt matter because she loves she so deeply and cares so much!!!!#her enduring faith and love and sense of justice for her fellow man........ oh boy :'')#also i have a post in my drafts that i never published bc i still havent really figured out how to phrase it #about how when katara is mean to sokka she thinks she is 'punching up' in the same way zuko treats azula #i have a lot of drafts...#anyway. theyre insane or whatever

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dumplingsfordays · 6 months

Text

patching you up

blade x injured!gn!reader

genre - fluff

summary - blade patches you up after you got injured while fighting mara.

cw!: mentions of blood + injury, soft-ish!blade, ooc blade?, mention of blade's past life which idfk how it works lmao I should be paying attention to the storyline asjdnb, swearing, mutual pining

note - god damn. soft!blade is living in my head rent-free fr, can't get enough of him <33 I'm not usually an edgy-emo-boy fan but ig blade's just built different 💪💪

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

With each painful cough, more and more thin splatters of blood painted your mouth crimson.

It hurt. A lot. You didn't expect it to hurt nearly as bad as it did when you charged in to fight the Mara that was attacking some people that were making their way through Cloudford, but the spear that their captain had used to stab through your side was probably coated in some sort of poison, because with every sluggish step you took, you felt your body break little by little. Eventually, you collapsed onto the cold ground - your torso was numb and soon your arms and legs would be as well.

Well, at least you were going to die somewhere pretty. The sunset glimmered through the leaves of thin trees growing from large pots, which were scattered across the various bridges of the district. Starskiffs drifted lazily across the sky like regal ships on the high seas and the last thing you heard before you closed your eyes for a while was the sound of crickets and footsteps fading in.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Finally fucking awake."

A harsh voice came from your side as you opened your extremely tired eyes, which were met with dim but warm lighting and a dark wooden ceiling.

"Can't believe you got into this mess," the voice continued as you felt something tightening around your waist. "Didn't think that you'd be so stupid."

His face flashed in your hazy mind and you tried to sit up. "...Blade, I-"

"Don't move. You'll make it worse."

Hands. Ice-cold, gruff, but gentle hands pushed you back into your previous position by your shoulders, and you felt the tightening feeling again shortly after.

"What are you doing?" you whispered, then coughed again. Your throat was so dry - it felt like you haven't drank in decades, and with each cough you swore that your lungs were going to fly out of your mouth at the sheer force.

"Fixing you, obviously."

You raised your neck to try and catch a glimpse of your wounds but saw only the top of Blade's head, his raven hair tied back in a low ponytail. He was bent over your side, and just as you lowered your head back to the pillow a sharp bolt of pain shot through you, making you hiss and wince.

"That hurt!"

"It'll pass," he replied almost too casually. "Deal with it."

An uncomfortable pause ensued, during which you finally figured out that he was bandaging your torso up. You'd never expected anyone to find you back there, much less a Stellaron Hunter that you'd only interacted with five or six times, but thank the Aeons that at least someone did. But you did think it was strange that he was doing this for you, because from all your two-or-three-word conversations, you were sure that he wasn't the type to help an almost complete stranger. In fact, you'd think that he would be the one to cause these injuries in the first place.

While you were staring up at the ceiling in deep thought, Blade was lowkey kind-of admiring your skin. You weren't going to look down at him again anyway, it seems that you'd learned your lesson, but that just allowed him to eye your softness in more detail. This was his chance - he'd been admiring you from afar ever since you first met, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity to see what you looked like close-up pass.

Before he knew what he was doing, Blade's fingers reached out to lightly press onto skin that was near your wound, at which you hissed and leaned away from his touch.

"You sure that you're actually healing me?" you asked.

"Yes. I know what I'm doing, trust me."

He continued to press curiously but gently, making sure not to hurt you on purpose. Your skin was fascinating to him - it was soft, warm, while his was unforgivingly cold; yours had a fascinating shade of life about it and his didn't. This contrast was what made his eyes widen a little everytime he made physical contact with you, and he found small differences like these to amount to vast ones overall. Maybe this is what always made him think that you came from a different world entirely.

Blade then noticed that your hand was trembling by your side - the painkillers must be wearing off. He stood up from the chair beside the bed on which you were resting and reached for a couple pills and a glass of water on a nearby counter, moving them to the bedside table. His hands felt your back as he sat you up to administer the medicine.

You now saw where you were - from what you could tell, it was a small house or apartment somewhere. Dark wood covered the walls, ceiling, and floor, and tapestries and thriving plants littered the environment. You didn't know that he had a green thumb, but now that you did, you felt safer somehow - what if this cold, distant man was more human than you'd originally thought him to be?

His lithe, cold fingers brought you back to reality as they rested under your jaw, pulling it open gently, and your eyes focused on his admittedly quite handsome face again. Crimson eyes, the color of a blood moon, stared intensely at yours in avid concentration before travelling back to his other hand, which was now lifting a glass of sparkling golden liquid to your lips. There was a certain reverence of sorts glimmering in his expression, and this was accompanied by the fact that he was treating you like he would a glass flower. Your lips finally met the rim of the glass and when you finally tasted the elixir, you sighed.

It was cool and sweet, a refreshing sensation that battled the humidity of the room and the pain in your side. You drank the entire glass with ease and after Blade set it down on the bedside table, he wiped away some stray droplets of the shining liquid with a rough thumb.

That was it - Blade had become an entirely person just now. You could see it in his eyes and feel it as he breathed: this was not the same person who happened to be walking by a person on their deathbed and had enough pity in their secluded heart to heal them. He treated you like an old friend or a partner, perhaps, by taking you in.

"You'll experience drowsiness soon," he mentioned, "don't feel like you can't sleep. I won't leave you."

You laughed lazily in return, already feeling the effects of the painkillers. "So you can murder me in my sleep?"

"...I can leave-"

"No, no, I'm just kidding."

You sigh and relax into the pillows beneath you as Blade lowers you onto your back again. His gaze lingers on yours for maybe a second too long but he pulls away, preferring to sit down in a chair by the bedside and stare out at the scenery surrounding the house.

Once your eyes close and your breaths become quiet, he gives it a couple seconds to make sure you're asleep before softly starting to hum. It's an old tune from his past life, one which he used to smith to, and as midnight moonlight begins to stream in through the window, it veils your calm face in a hazy, shimmery glow that rivals even the smoothest of satins. He reaches a hand towards the apple of your cheek, cradling it in his palm as he sighs, a faint smile dancing on his lips.

"You're gonna kill me someday."

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #fluff #blade #hsr blade #blade hsr #blade x reader #star rail blade #blade x y/n #blade fluff #blade x you #hes so babygirl for some reason like???

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melodrangea · 6 months

Note

I loved your nicknames headcanons so much 🥺Could I please have a Death the Kid in an enemies to lovers scenario where the reader is really laidback and chill. Kid hates how they never appear to take anything seriously on the surface, and the reader thinks he’s too uptight. The two eventually reach a mutual understanding that develops into a relationship

Tysm if you’re reading this!!

Of course my dear, and thank you so much!! 🫶🫶🫶

You didn’t specify a one shot or just headcannons so I hope headcannons are alright!!! :D

———————————————————————————

Death the Kid w/ a Laidback S/O

-Kid would not BE ABLE TO STAND YOU at first

-he just can’t comprehend how you never take anything seriously, never study, always forget your homework etc

-AND YET YOU’RE STILL REALLY FREAKIN SMART

-you have the ability to just lay back and let most things roll do your shoulder while he just can’t

-and you aren’t exactly a huge fan of him either

-thinking he’s wayyy too uptight (which he is tbf)

-he’s always lecturing someone, everything needs to be perfect around him which you found to be a headache

-so safe to say you two don’t get along

-until the day you knocked over a painting in the hall

-Kid ofc is inconsolable as he stayed after school for several hours trying to fix and reposition the painting

-when he saw you coming out of the library, hair pulled back, jacket unbuttoned with a decently high stack of books in your arms, backpack swaying back and forth on your shoulder

You chuckled, tilting your head towards Kid and the painting. “Still fixing that painting? I’m surprised you didn’t use your Grim Reaper crap to fix it”

Kid rolled his eyes.“And I’m surprised you know where the library is, seeing as you never study”

You scoffed, “Atleast I work for it behind the scenes, school doesn’t come easy for people that aren’t golden-child pricks like you.”

“Being a grim reaper doesn’t give me enhanced intelligence, I do my fair share of studying like you.”

You paused, “you mean it isn’t easy for you either?”

“It’s easier sometimes but sometimes I don’t understand everything right away.”

“Huh, who knew?”

-From then on there was a change between you two, small at first

- like you not taking every opportunity to make some unsymmetrical, and him sometimes slipping you an answer you don’t know

-you two grew to have a very sarcastic academic rivalry, both pushing eachother to make the other better

-you didn’t know when you had developed a crush on Kid but it was hard not to, he was determined, driven, and handsome. And not as much of a snob as you previously thought

-then you ran into eachother at the library again, you were sat where Kid usually sits

He paused, noticing that his spot was taken

You saw him and start to stand up “sorry, you usually sit here don’t you?”

Kid shrugged, setting his books down across from you, “it’s fine, it’s just a chair. Is this one open?”

You cracked a small smile and gestured to the seat, “all yours.”

Kid sat down across from you, peering at the worksheet ahead of you. “Is that Professors Steins lab?”

“Yeah, I was just about to start it, is it hard?”

“I’m not quite sure, I haven’t started it yet.”

Your small smile turned into an evil grin, “you wanna race and see who finishes first?”

Kid looked at you, curiously. “And what do I get if I win.”

You shrugged, “whatever you want.” You pause, “within reason of course!”

“Seems acceptable, what would look like if you by some miracle beat me.” Kid said sarcastically.

You laughed, “hm, if I win. How about…you maybe take me out to lunch sometime?”

Kids eyes widened, his checks turning a bright pink in contrast to his fair monochromatic outfit.

You panicked, going to grab your paper to leave, “I’m sorry that was way to forward, I’m such an idiot, I’ll just go.”

Kid grabs your wrist, “no, it’s fine. And who said I didn’t agree to the terms anyways?”

It was your turn to blush. You nodded sitting back down. Kid grinned at you and picked up his pencil, starting his worksheet

You did the same, brain turned to mush, you frantically scratched at the paper

Mere ten minutes later Kid placed his pencil down, you had three questions left

You look down at his paper then at him, you frowned, tears of embarrassment working their way to your eyes. “You won Kid, what do you want?”

“Well If the offer still stands for lunch that would be what I want.”

Your heart skipped a beat, face turning bright red.

-from then on it only got better, the academic rivalry was still there but even more lighthearted then before

-Kid motivated you to work harder, and you pushed him to let loose sometimes, creating a healthy equilibrium for the both of you

-most of your dates are either study dates or out to small cafes

-he will refuse to take you back to the manor as long as he can (in fear of Liz and Patty mostly)

-but regardless of when you meet his weapons you’re just glad that Kid is your boyfriend and not another smart asshole

-It saves a lot of paintings from being destroyed

———————————————————————————

that’s all folks!

thank you anon for the request! I hope you enjoyed and if anyone else has requests or questions feel free to get in touch or submit an inbox!

-Melodrangea <3

#black star x reader #crona x reader #kilik rung #kilik x reader #soul eater #soul eater x reader #soul x reader #stein x reader #soul eater dtk #death the kid x reader #liz and patty

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muddyorbsblr · 6 months

Text

circumstances of succumbency [kinktober 2023: bath/shower]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You and Magnus get stranded on the road while working a case and sought shelter at an inn that only had one room left. And one bed.

Pairing: older!Magnus Martinsson x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, kindly exit stage left I'll only ask nicely once); unprotected p in v sex; slight mention to masturbation/wankst; language; Magnus is her superior/boss so there's a bit of a power dynamic going on [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: coworkers to lovers; mutual pining; one bed only trope; translations in the Author's Notes

Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): When Magnus says "I won't have you apologizing", the smut starts. Proceed with caution.

"We're not going to be of any use to this case sleep-deprived and dragging this car through a snowstorm, Y/L/N. We should find some shelter and start fresh in the morning, and hopefully the weather will be a bit more agreeable."

Those were the famous last words that hammered in several nails to your coffin. You were still about an hour's drive away from the residence of a person of interest in your current case, but with the current state of the weather, you were more likely to get stranded in the middle of the road with a broken down engine than actually make it to your destination if you two stubbornly kept on your drive.

That was how you two ended up at a cozy little inn, the lady at the front desk shamelessly checking out Detective Superintendent Martinsson while she tried to book two rooms for you. A disappointed scowl painted her face as she told you both that there was only one room left for the night. With one bed.

Of course this happens, you grumbled internally. One room, one bed, one horny Y/N.

He tried to be a gentleman and offered you the bed, clearly uncomfortable with the whole arrangement as well. But after you both realized that there was no other furniture that the towering older man could somehow pretzel-fold himself into and sleep in for the night, you simply agreed that you'd pick a side of the bed and put the entire situation out of your minds come morning.

You distinctly remembered putting a considerable effort to count sheep and make your mind shut off despite the biting cold, slipping into slumber a shivering curled up heap on your side of the bed, one wrong move away from falling off and flopping onto the hard wood floor. So why was it that when you opened your eyes, the morning sun barely shining through the heavy clouds, you were deceptively comfortable and warm, with an arm wrapped around you and holding you against the lean and muscular body of the man that had been invading your most vivid scandalous dreams on a nightly basis?

This isn't happening this isn't happening, you tried to tell yourself, trying not to lean in to his warm embrace despite every cell in your body literally screaming to do exactly that. You're still dreaming, Y/N, it's time to wake up. He shuffled even closer to you, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and let out a sigh that sounded like he was almost…contented. The feel had you putting your fist to your mouth and biting down on your skin to refrain from making a sound.

Much as this was exactly where you fantasized about being when you were in the safety of your own home, you knew you had to squirm out of his sleep-laden embrace. You slipped your hand into his and tried to guide his arm up and away from your waist, only to have him reflexively pull out of your hold and go right back to holding you, shuffling even closer and letting out a whining sound as if he was bargaining to stay asleep for a few more minutes.

Before you could try again, you froze in his embrace when you felt his lips press a kiss to the back of your neck, followed by a near-reverent whisper of your name. You bit harder into your skin in a desperate attempt to hold back a moan as he kept on kissing a trail to your shoulder in lazy movements, obviously being guided by his sleep-adled brain.

Which had a little voice in your head screaming the question: If he was moving and talking the way he did because of his dream, then why did he say your name?

You didn't give yourself the time to mull it over, not willing to risk staying a second longer and having him wake up and have the sight of his disgust and shame seared into your memory. As fast as you could manage, you lifted his arm off you and rolled away from him, situating yourself again on the very edge of the bed and pretending that sleep still had its hooks in you.

Despite having slept in a bed that wasn't his own partnered with the undue stress of being stranded by means of a rather nasty snowstorm, Magnus had slept rather peacefully through the night. He was blessed with a rather blissful dream where by some miracle you didn't turn him away after he'd confessed his feelings for you. You even returned them.

And before you two headed off for work, he held you in bed and got to rouse you from your sleep with teasing kisses to your neck. The dream had felt so real that the image might stay with him to keep him company in the cold nights to come after closing this case with you.

When he woke in your shared room at the inn and saw you curled up at the edge of the bed, he wanted nothing more than to turn that dream into reality and pull you into his embrace. He was only stopped by the dreadful thought of how you could possibly react to such intimacy.

Probably with a right hook, a resignation letter, and a sexual harassment lawsuit in that order, you idiotic knob, he hissed at himself, sighing as he shrugged the covers off him and decided to check if the roads were clear enough to resume driving in a few hours.

He walked around the bed and couldn't resist the urge to take his covers and drape them over your own after seeing how you visibly shivered in your sleep. You let out an unintelligible sound while he was tucking the covers around you. "I'm up, I'm up," you mumbled, shifting around groggily.

"We don't have to leave yet," he spoke softly, doing his best not to wake you fully. "Just gonna check if it's safe to go back on the road." He moved your hair away from your face, a warmth spreading through his body upon seeing how serene you seemed in sleep. "You can rest a little while longer, sweet girl."

You let out a long exhale, a tiny contented smile playing at the corner of your mouth when you relaxed and leaned into his touch. He couldn't resist the urge to hold you just so for a few moments longer, nor the urge to press the lightest kiss between your brows before he stood and walked out of the room.

Mercifully the roads seemed much clearer and you two could probably resume your drive and your investigation in a few hours. Before that, though, he needed to go for a run. And hopefully keep all those intrusive thoughts of returning to your room and giving into his desires at bay. Sleeping in the same bed with you had blurred the lines of your relationship so dangerously that it took everything in him to remind himself that you deserved so much better than to have him shatter your trust in him by taking advantage of you and this situation.

"She deserves better than this. Better than you," he grumbled as he walked to his car to take out his running shoes.

With every pound of his feet on the pavement he tried to put it out of his mind the image of just how beautiful and peaceful you looked in bed. Tried to beat into submission the urge to crawl back under the covers next to you and roll the dice. The fantasy that perhaps if he pressed his body to yours your response would be to settle into his embrace. To press back.

Before he knew it three laps around the property turned into five. Then seven. Then ten. At the end of the tenth lap, Magnus somehow convinced himself that the distance he'd covered had placed a physical distance between him and the taunting image of you sleeping on the bed you two had shared last night.

He figured as well that enough time had passed and perhaps you'd woken up of your own accord, and you'd be alert and ready to get back on the road with him and get closer to cracking open the investigation.

There were two things that Magnus noticed once he'd returned to your shared room. First, you were out of bed, which only gave him the most temporary relief from the fantasies that were taunting him ever since he made the most foolish mistake of agreeing with you that you were both grown adults that could handle sharing a bed for the night while you were stranded.

The relief didn't last long because second, he heard the shower running. And now he struggled to even breathe knowing that mere feet away behind that closed bathroom door, you were naked and wet. And he wanted nothing more than to peel off the sweat-soaked layers of clothing on him and bring his daydreams to life.

"Stay where you are, Martinsson. If you give in, you'll lose her forever. Not to mention your badge," he grumbled to himself, burying his face his hands trying to put the mental image of what you might have looked like on the other side of the door well out of his mind.

That was until he heard a sound that seared itself into the darkest recesses of his most vivid fantasies. Whimpers that echoed off the tiles escaping through the bathroom door, followed by what sounded like a filthy variation of the talks he'd once heard you give yourself in the locker room before some of your more intimidating interrogations.

"Fuck's sake, Y/N, either think of someone other than Magnus Martinsson and get it over with so you can actually face him when you get back to the fucking car, or give up and turn the bloody shower on cold."

The air left Magnus' lungs once he heard the frustration that laced your tone. The words unraveling his restraint once it reached his ears. If knowing that you were on the other side of the door touching yourself already had his sanity and restraint hanging by a final thread, the realization that he was the subject of your fantasies snipped at that thread with the sharpest, most ostentatious shears known to man.

He never rushed to take his clothes off so fast in his life.

As soon as you heard Magnus step out of the room you rushed to the shower, trying your damnedest to get the vivid horny daydreams out of your system before he returned. You got close the first time, but then your mind wandered to how his lips felt on your skin when he kissed your neck. And then how those same soft lips kissed your forehead before he left the room.

And with every attempt it was like that elusive climax slinked away farther and farther, taunting you that the only way you could actually get to it was if you surrendered to the fact that the only way was letting the fantasy that starred the devastatingly attractive older man play out in your mind.

Screw it, it's no use, you told yourself, closing your fingers around the lever to turn the shower into its coldest setting.

Before you could change the temperature, a large hand closed around yours, fingers deftly prying yours away from the lever. Your body froze at the feel of another, equally naked body pressing against your back.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran through you when Magnus whispered your name, tracing his fingers up your spine and across your shoulder. Fuck, why was he doing this? you screamed inwardly. It was a bad enough situation why is he making it worse?

"Look, I'll stay in the back and I won't make a sound," you choked out, barely audible over the sound of the water. "You'll have my badge on your desk the moment we get back--"

"You will do no such thing." His words came out husked, laced with a combination of conviction and desperation that you couldn't rationalize for the life of you. "Turn around, sweet girl. Look at me."

You could feel your entire body tremble and shiver despite the hot water coming down, your knees shaking with every shuffling step you took to face him, not even sure where to look once you have. Ultimately you decided to shut your eyes, refusing to look anywhere for fear that your eyes might travel too far South.

"Magnus I'm sor--"

"Shh shh, darling." He tilted your chin upward. "Look at me, please. Let me see those beguiling eyes of yours." His thumb gently pressed on your quivering lips, tracing along your bottom lip until he coaxed you into a pout. You took a breath before opening your eyes, gasping when you caught sight of a soft smile on his face, looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that had your knees shaking even more. "There you are, sweet girl," he rasped, before leaning in and giving you a soft, tentative kiss.

You let out a whimper once he pulled away, causing him to let out a guttural sound before he pulled you flush against him. His erection pressed against your stomach, warm and pulsing on your skin.

"I won't have you apologizing," he told you huskily, hands traveling down your sides, squeezing your hips for a moment before stopping at the backs of your thighs. "And I won't have you resigning, either." He smirked at the little squeak that came out of you when your feet left the tiled floor, pressing you against the wall. "I won't have any of that talk from those perfect lips of yours."

He captured your lips with his in a kiss that stole your breath away, letting out a guttural sound against your mouth when your fingers weaved into his dampening curls. Your other hand dug into his shoulder as if holding on to any last remaining shred of your sanity while he maneuvered you so that your hips were lined up. "Magnus what're you--Oh f-f-fuck," you whimpered, your body shuddering in his hold as you felt him brushing the tip of his cock up and down your folds, teasing your entrance.

"The only thing I will have from now on, sweet girl, is you." His lips latched on to a spot between your neck and shoulder, moaning into your skin as he slid into you in a single smooth motion, your walls more than slickened enough from your failed attempts just minutes ago to bring yourself to climax. "Fullkomlighet," he whispered into your neck. "Du känner dig som himlen."

The sounds of your combined moans filled the room as he moved in you, first in slow, measured thrusts and gradually getting more frantic until the sounds of your pleasure were cut through with the sharp wet snap as your hips met. Your mind in such a haze that you hadn't realized how close you were to the release you'd been chasing earlier until his hand went back down to where your bodies were connected, fingers quickly finding and flicking hurriedly at the underside of your clit.

"Magnus!"

"Let go. I need to feel you coming apart around me. Just let go with me. I've got you, min kärlek."

He muffled your high pitched screams slanting his mouth over yours, deliciously groaning into your mouth when your tongues met in a desperate tangle. His hand curled around the back of your neck, keeping you from breaking the kiss while your body completely weakened and surrendered to your climax.

The sound of the shower knob turning broke through your haze. "Hmm?" Your unarticulated question quickly turned into a squeal muffled by his mouth when he shifted his hold on you, his length still hard. Still throbbing. And still inside you.

He began to walk you out of the bathroom. He smirked against your lips when you began to whimper, every step he took making you bounce slightly on his cock.

It was only once he had you laid out under him at the center of the bed that he broke the kiss, giving you a soft peck and a nip at your bottom lip before pulling away, his face hovering a few inches above yours. "Breathe, min kärlek." He moved your hands above your head, capturing both your wrists in one large hand and pinning them down to the mattress. "We'll leave and get back on the road in a few hours."

Magnus started moving in you again, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss when you arched your back off the bed, feeling every ridge of him sliding against your walls. "Wait, Magnus what do you mean--"

"I'm going to need a little more time with you before I can even think of getting back in that car and enduring the rest of the day without touching you, sweet girl." He let out a sinful moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "And then when we finally finish this case, you're coming home with me. From now on you're mine, min kärlek. Are we clear?"

Your answer caused him to snap his hips into yours. "Yes, Sir."

A/N: I've finally finished this piece and hopefully I can bang out (pun absolutely intended) another one this week for Conrad. Yes, I know October's done, but the initial goal stories aren't yet. And the stretch goal stories, as promised, are definitely still coming.

And while we're on the subject of biting off more than I can chew, I've made the decision to join NaNoWriMo again this year, so let's see if I can meet that bonkers goal of 50k words 🫡

Hope y'all liked this piece of older!Magnus spice 😏 Please do prepare yourselves for the next piece, 'slow & soft' with James Conrad because at the moment that is a chonky boi with 4k words…and I've only just gotten to the smutty bits.

Translations: Fullkomlighet – Perfection Du känner dig som himlen. – You feel like Heaven min kärlek – my love

And here's a gif for everyone that reads to the end:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27

#magnus martinsson x reader #magnus martinsson x female reader #magnus martinsson smut #wallander #wallander fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #muddyorbs writes

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Part 3

🚨18+Only, biker!Eddie, tow truck driver!Eddie, adult themes, mentions of smut, angst, mutual pining, slow burn, cheating (not on reader), alcohol consumption, flirting, mention of biker!Steve Harrington, 90's music & nostalgia, mention of a loved one with cancer, self-deprecation, eventual smut. Reader and Eddie are late 20's-early 30's

Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

🔸Reader and Eddie are pining for each other in secret, and reader takes bold initiative to bring Eddie a gift. The two of you keep crossing paths as this crush intensifies and complications arise.

A/N: Always look forward to hearing from you all, what you thought, or what you'd like to see happen 👀

-----------

Steve called a day or two after the initial meetup, but Katie was headed to a conference out of the state, so they didn’t make any immediate plans. The conversation started in the living room where she first picked up the phone; she made a wild hand gesture, arm pivoting from side to side at the elbow, mouthing his name to you so that you would know who it was, and then she switched to the phone in her bedroom. They talked for over an hour, and he told her he’d check back in when she was back from her trip.

“Okay, so Steve thinks that Eddie has a little crush on you,” Katie told you when she came back out to give you the recap. “He said you might have to make the first move, though.”

Your heart fluttered, but you tried to play it cool. You looked up from your magazine. “Please tell me you didn’t spend the entire time talking about me?”

“Oh, of course not,” Katie shrugged. “Only a half hour or so.”

“If I were Eddie, I’d be pissed if my friend spilled the beans like that,” you said with a tilt of your head.

“I told Steve I wouldn’t tell you he said that,” she countered.

“Well, that makes it better.”

“Steve is a really…” Katie hesitated, trying to find the right descriptive as she plopped back down on the couch. “...intelligent, charming guy. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go out with him when I get back. If he asks like a gentleman.”

“Maybe?”

“Probably.”

----------

The next week came and went. You were busy, so you didn’t have much of a chance to think about the possibility that Eddie might have a crush on you.

No, that was a lie: you thought about it a lot. The bad part was, this whole feeling a chemical pull towards him was a distraction that you didn’t need in your life, and it made you do creepy, irrational things, like driving by Munson’s Garage one day after work just to see if you could get a glimpse of him.

The good part was, it had you feverishly painting until after midnight a few days in a row. You were feeling inspired for the first time in months, and even if you still had to be at work at 9am looking like death warmed over, it was worth it.

On Thursday afternoon, you were at the gallery preparing a huge piece of art to be shipped out of the country when you heard it: the unmistakable purring growl of a chopper gunning down your street. You let the corner of the box fall to the ground with a heavy thud, eliciting a horrific yowl from your assistant who had been helping you wrap it up meticulously for the past hour, and sprang to the window like a little girl at the distant tinkle of Santa’s bells.

There were three of them atop their menacing leather and chrome beasts, but they were already disappearing around a corner at the other end of the street by the time you got there. The next thing you knew, you were out on the sidewalk with your hand up to block the sun, squinting, trying to see if one of them had long, dark hair. The high pitched whine of a car alarm shrilled in the distance, and a woman pushing a baby stroller had to go around, eyeballing you with disdain as she went.

---------

Meanwhile, Eddie was seeing you in the face of every woman he met, and simultaneously looking forward to the day when that was not the case. He didn’t have the energy to pine over someone, let alone have issues performing in bed because the woman wasn’t you. Having sex with other women was starting to feel like cheating, and that was an icky, embarrassing truth that he would never confess to one of his buddies.

“Oh? You can’t stop thinking about her when you fuck other women? Damn, that pussy must be tight.”

You were basically a figment of his imagination, and he was having these really gross daydreams about just….holding your hand and shit like that. Not cool, not bad ass. Jerking off to a porn or the idea of some nameless, faceless mouth on his cock was fine, but doing it to the idea of tasting your cum while his mouth was between your legs made him want to lobotomize himself with Jack Daniels.

This was dangerous, bitch-boy territory, and he honestly couldn’t say he’d navigated it in almost a decade. Maybe he’d been hanging out with Steve “Loverboy” Harrington for too long, listening to him get all goo-goo ga-ga over some new chick every other week. But also, he envied him; Steve didn’t just sip the juice when it was good, he let himself drown in it, over and over again.

Eddie shrugged it off and acted like he didn’t care the day Steve told him that he talked to your roommate, but then he came back around a few hours later and asked him if he was planning to meet up with her again. “You should call her friend,” Steve told you. “She digs you, Katie told me.” Katie told him no such thing, as she had a very strict girl code, but Steve couldn’t help himself.

So yeah, Eddie drove by your work on Thursday. Innocent enough, but the part of town where you worked was very high-end, and nowhere near the place him and the boys were headed, but nevertheless, he gave the signal and they followed. One of his buddies ran with the Coffin Kings---a bearded monster they called Tank----and he got a kick out of rumbling his hog close to the expensive cars parked along the street to shake the foundation and make their alarms go off.

He didn’t even turn his head to see through the glass storefront and check if you were inside, that wasn’t the point: he just wanted to be in your orbit, to drive down a street that you parked on every day.

Holy shit, Munson, why don’t you just put your tap shoes on and break into song about it?

--------

On Friday, you left work early, announcing that you had a very important appointment, and then you went and sat in your car around the corner from Munson’s Garage for a half hour. It took you way too long to work up the courage, listening to an album by the band Hole, specifically the song Violet. A gang of bikers rolled up to the stop sign across from you, and you did a comical job of sliding down in your seat so they wouldn’t see you.

Once they were gone, you looked down at what you had in your lap; a gift wrapped up in brown butcher paper and tied with jute string. “This is so stupid,” you told yourself, putting your car in gear to drive away, but then you flipped it into park again with a pensive groan.

After a dramatic pause, cursing as you went, you circled the block one more time and then entered via the open gate at the side entrance. The main garage and supposed clubhouse for the Coffin Kings---the spot where you had dropped the boys off the week before---was to your left, but ahead of you was another garage, and the wide expanse of a junkyard full of wrecked cars behind a fence. Your eyes landed on the black tow truck that Eddie drove, giving you hope that you hadn’t missed him. A row of motorcycles were lined up in the middle of the pavement, and then to the right there were angled parking spots under an awning, and that is where you went.

Your stomach bleated its discontent when you saw that there were at least 10 or 12 guys in biker cuts hanging outside near the grill, flipping burgers in front of the main garage, blocking the entrance to where you would most likely find Eddie. They all had the Coffin Kings insignia placard on the back of their leather vests, and they were tossing back beers and taking shots. After you parked, you craned your neck to see if Eddie was one of them, but there were a few obscured by one of the pillars holding the roof up. Surely, he would’ve spotted your car as you inched along at an elderly crawl.

You took a minute to fix your hair and makeup in the visor mirror, practiced stretching your lips in a grimace smile a few times to make sure there was no lipstick on your teeth, and then made the leap.

-------

Eddie should’ve been down with the guys getting hammered, or having a game of pool in the club house after a long week, but no. He was on the second floor in his apartment, getting in some bench presses before he showered and continued on with his evening of laundry and trying to get to bed at a decent hour for once. He was listening to Slayer, but the widow was open and he could hear them all giving each other shit down below.

In between songs, at the end of a set, he heard a different type of ruckus going on outside and it made him sit up, sweat dripping into his eyes and down his neck. The guys were giving wolf whistles and saying something about “look at that fine piece of ass” and Eddie didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to go down and investigate.

That was when he opened the door and saw you making your way across the parking lot. You were carrying something flat and square in your hands and you looked like you were cautiously assessing the scene, like maybe you should return to the safety of your car, and he didn’t blame you.

“Cool it, fuckers,” Eddie told the guys as he pushed by some of them to go out and head over to meet you. But he could still hear them saying things to each other under their breath, whispering about you, and how good you looked.

He didn’t want you to be there, in that moment. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t want the other guys to think you were just some whore he was fucking, or worse yet---he didn’t want any of them to think that they could fuck you. He tried to walk toward you at the right angle so that you would be blocked from their view, inadvertently squaring his shoulders and asserting his dominance as he went.

-------

You had a feeling this was a bad idea, but you had no idea how bad until a dozen pairs of eyes were turning to stare at you, narrowing on you, and unabashedly so. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, and there was heavy metal music blaring from inside the building somewhere. You planted your feet, looking around, wondering what you would do if Eddie wasn’t there: hand over the cutsie little gift to one of his biker buddies? You didn’t want to embarrass him.

But then, the door opened and there he was, frowning at you like you were the last person on earth he wanted to see. It was more of a scowl, actually, eyebrows knitted together and upper lip rising in an abominable snarl. He said something to the rest of the guys, and a few of them seemed to snap back to reality, but he couldn’t wipe the pissed look off from his face as he made his way over to you with an air of reluctance.

He had on a white wife beater and jeans with his boots unlaced. The front of the tank was damp and his arm muscles were especially defined and swollen. You could see that he had some kind of huge, tattooed chest piece that came up to his clavicle and stretched over his shoulders. Various other ink decorated his arms; the one on his forearm being the most faded of them all. Your pussy fluttered at the sight of him, even though he looked like he was ready to put his hand around your throat. Or maybe because of it?

“What are you doing here?” He barked in a voice low enough so that only the two of you could hear it.

His attitude was not your favorite. “Well, hello to you too, grumpy.”

Now you wished you didn’t have the stupid gift in your hand. Couldn’t you have left it in the car and waited to see if he was here first? No, you had to bring it with you, and now it was too late, dummy.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder at the guys, jaw muscles flexing, and then he gestured for you to walk with him over to where your car was parked, under the awning, out of the overcast but bright sky.

He put a hand at your elbow and maneuvered you so that you were facing away from the riff raff, the view of your backside blocked by your car. There was a matte black Chevelle parked in the slot next to you, and he leaned back against it, crossing his arms at his chest.

“Sorry about that,” he told you. “We usually keep them locked up during the daytime.”

At his joke, your shoulders softened and you exhaled, flexing your fingers on the package. The movement caught his attention and his cocoa brown eyes shifted to the gift.

“You said to come by whenever, but I should’ve called,” you hadn’t planned out what you would say, but now you wished you had.

“No, no,” he assured you, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I promised you a spare tire. I haven’t forgotten.”

Truth, you had totally spaced that he said he’d give you a free tire, which was no small expense, but it was a much better reason than, “I made you something because I can’t stop thinking about you,” or “here’s a gift, now let’s kiss.”

“What’s that?” He asked the dreaded question, tilting his chin at the package and meeting your eyes down the end of his nose.

“Oh this?” You asked cheerily, feigning mock surprise, as if it slipped your mind that it was in your hand. “This is nothing. Just a thank you for...the tow and the tire. I made it, it’s no big deal.”

“You made it?” His voice flew to a higher octave than he was comfortable with at that revelation, and an invisible warm hand wrapped around his heart.

Scratching your eyebrow, you passed it to him. “You don’t have to open it here,” you added, hoping he wouldn’t.

He held it in both hands, strong fingers curling around the backside as his thumbs stroked the front of it to feel the texture of the paper. It had been a while since he’d received a thoughtful gift that wasn’t booze or scratch tickets or a Hickory Farms sausage and cheese platter.

Overall, he was speechless, but one thing that did come second nature to him was offering acts of service as a way of showing his appreciation. “Let me take this up to my place, and then I’ll get you that tire. Can you wait here? I’ll just be a second.”

He was already on the move, but you stopped him. “I can’t sorry, I have to go. Rain check?”

You put your hand on the crook of his elbow without thinking, to stop him, and then all you could think about was the heat of his skin, the way the hair on his forearm tickled your finger. His eyes went to your hold on him and his Adam’s apple jerked in a quick swallow.

You lowered your hand. “Maybe I’ll surprise you again one day,” you were blushing now and you moved your chin to your chest to try and hide it. This was feeling less and less like an interaction between two grown adults, and more like some high school crush that you giggled about to your friends and wrote little hearts around each others name in class.

Over your shoulder, Eddie could see that Wayne was coming that way with an invoice in his hand, probably to ask him a question about one of the pickups that day. He looked a bit pale and peaked, and even though Eddie begged him to take the day off work whenever he had chemo treatments, the old man refused to listen.

“Okay, so, I’ll see you around then,” Eddie heard it come out of his mouth and he wished he could take it back. The tone was off; he sounded like he didn’t care if he saw you again, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“Okay, bye,” and you were back behind the wheel of your car, panting, wishing you had a paper bag to hyperventilate into. In the rear view mirror, you watched an older man with gray hair meet up with Eddie. His clothes were baggy, as if he’d suddenly dropped a significant amount of weight. Eddie clapped his free hand on the older man’s shoulder and they walked back to the garage together at a slow pace, your gift in his hand swinging level with his wallet chain.

--------

After finishing up for Wayne and demanding that he go home to get some rest, Eddie was finally alone again in his apartment. The string you used to secure the package might as well have been steel bars with how tight it was tied, and so he reached over for the butterfly knife on his nightstand and popped it open with a few flicks of his wrist. He sawed the string with caution, careful not to puncture whatever was in it.

His heart was racing and his palms were a little sweaty, and for some reason, the rising of sweet emotions made him angry. Just settle down there, bucko, the voice in his head told him, she probably gives gifts to anyone who does anything remotely nice for her; this doesn’t make you special.

He touched the black painted edges first, realizing it was a canvas, and then the back side fell open to him first: To: Eddie, my hero, and then it was dated and had your name signed on the wood cradling.

Turning it over, he had no idea what to expect, but as his eyes took it in, a quivering sigh escaped his lips.

It was a piece of art depicting the sunset exploding from beyond the low hills in Hawkins; the view you see from the freeway from the exact spot where you had blown your tire, the spot where the two of you had met for the first time. It wasn’t just a standard scenery painting either; it was abstract and full of texture, with tiny bits of paper collage added in. Bright, bold colors, with tiny hand drawn details.

He took down his framed Dio poster so that he could hang your 12x12 painting across from his bed where he could see it from all angles of the room. He puffed his cheeks out and blew air from his lips to make a low whistling sound as he stood there admiring it, wishing he would’ve opened it in front of you, so that you would know how much he cherished it. You might never know how much a gift like this meant to him; it was immediately one of his prized possessions.

Absently, he crumpled the wrapping paper and string up in his hands, pounding it into a compact ball, so that he could make a jump shot for the trash can, and then made it in with a swoosh.

What he didn’t see crushed inside the ball was the square, pink piece of paper with a little note on it that said: “I know Steve has this number, but I also wanted you to have it. Call me sometime.” and then your phone number in cute, block digits.

-----------

Another week went by, and you had officially resigned yourself to the fact that you would, indeed, die alone. Putting yourself out there, even as infinitesimally as you had with Eddie, almost killed you. Getting excited every time the phone rang, hoping it was him, had you regretting the choice to ever make a move in the first place. Besides Katie, you were the only single person in your friend group, and that’s just how it would stay until Keifer Sutherland proposed.

Steve called Katie though, and even though she had the feeling he was a bit of a player, the idea of jumping on his cock had her chomping at the bit.

“Are you sure?” Katie asked as she dowsed herself with hairspray in the bathroom mirror, an L7 cassette in the tape player. You were just behind her in the hallway, and you leaned back to avoid the fumes. “I can hang out with Steve a different night, I don’t want you do go to Marysville alone.”

Marysville was a town down the road, not fifteen miles away, and there was a huge gallery opening in an old airplane hangar, and as the manager of Moon River Gallery, you were forced to attend.

“That’s sweet of you, but Jeff will be there.” You held your breath and waved your hand in front of your face. “But I’m counting on you to get laid for the both of us.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to let Steve know what a deadbeat his buddy Eddie is for not calling you to even thank you for that gorgeous painting.” Katie was using her protective mom voice.

“Please don’t,” you begged her. “He just didn’t want to see me again, and that’s fine. I don’t need someone to call me out of obligation. Really, don’t mention anything to Steve or I will turn to stone and crumble to pieces.”

Katie went into your bedroom instead of hers, and held up a certain shirt, asking if she could borrow it. “That’s actually yours,” you told her, waiting on the bed as she changed.

You were putting your arms into your jacket, just about to head out the door, when Katie came around the corner holding up flavored condoms and Magnums in each hand. “Do you want to take any of these with you? Plenty of cute guys in Marysville.”

“No, thank you,” you assured her politely, fixing your collar. “Besides, I’m sure Jeff will have a stockpile with him.”

But Katie threw one at you anyway, and you caught it with a slap to your chest. “Here, just take one of these Magnums, for prayer’s sake.”

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The airplane hanger gallery was situated near the lake, and it was an unarguably stunning venue full of massive artworks and expertly blown glass. You and Jeff arrived together, but went your separate ways initially, both stumbling upon friends from other galleries you knew, and you sipped some expensive champagne while you mingled. You were bent over, reading the details about one of the paintings, when two of the new people arriving caught your eye.

Fantastic, it was Eddie and Charlene.

Charlene looked like she was a movie star about to walk the red carpet and Eddie looked as good as ever. From the waist down was dressed like normal: jeans, boots, and wallet chain--but he always put a nice dark red or black shirt on for the events. Three buttons undone down the front to give a peak of that chest tattoo, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a little earring dangling from one ear, and those chunky, silver rings on his hand. Obviously the two of them were a couple, regardless of the fact that she was married, and regardless of the fact that Eddie referred to himself as being single.

He escorted her in with his arm linked in hers, and you could tell he was about to fall back and head outside to wait, but then his eyes locked on you. You turned your back on him, guzzled your champagne, and then headed over to where you could get a big glass of wine, thirstier than you’ve ever been in your life. Jeff had volunteered to drive you both back, and you had just decided in that moment that you were going to let him.

You were a couple of swallows in when you felt the front of his warm body press up at your side, against your arm, hands in his pockets, and then he leaned his head down closer, wavy dark hair skimming your shoulder, to whisper in your ear. “Your art should be in a place like this.”

“Oh hiiiiii,” you turned, pretending to be shocked to see him. “What a nice surprise. How are you?”

He backed up a step to give you some room, not checking even once to see where Charlene was or if she cared where he was; his eyes were intent on you.

Jeff, was off to the side, flirting with one of the guys on the catering staff, when he glanced over to see who you were standing with, and his eyes bulged wide.

“You clean up good,” you told Eddie, getting intoxicated on how delicious he smelled. Almost two glasses of alcohol in, you were already getting ballsy, and you reached up to brush his hair back from his shoulder and straighten his collar. “You look like you could run for mayor.”

He glanced down at himself, and then met your gaze from under his lashes, full pink lips curving up on one side. “I was going for Colombian drug lord, but I guess I missed the mark.”

Okay, so he made you laugh and he was sexy. So what.

Someone you knew came up to hug you and say hello, and you expected Eddie to take advantage of the moment and make a getaway, but he stayed.

“Can I get you another one?” He asked, gesturing to your almost empty glass. Never mind that everyone was glancing over at him, asking themselves with shifting eyes who the hell let the scary biker dude in to mingle with the rich people. The irony of a bunch of art snobs recoiling at someone who brought something new and different to the table was not lost on you. Sure, he made them uncomfortable, but who would be the one to ask bad boy biker Eddie Munson to leave? Eddie could flick his lighter open and set one of the paintings on fire, and still no one would question him.

“Aren’t you here with someone?” You asked, glancing around for that big gold explosion of wealth that was Charlene.

“No,” Eddie said initially, but then. “Well, I drive for Charlene from time to time but we’re not...together, if that’s what you mean.”

Eddie could feel Charlene giving him the evil eye from across the room, but he didn’t care. He stopped having sex with her two weeks ago, but he wasn’t ready to give up the extra cash working as her personal escort service and hired muscle.

Staying sober for the night, he brought another glass of wine over to you, and then he started asking you questions about the artwork and the artists as the two of you walked.

“Isn’t that Charlene Gregson’s boy toy?” Manny, one of the caterers, asked Jeff as they watched the two of you flirt with each other.

Jeff nodded, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh, this is going to be juicy.”

There was a snap high on the back of your shirt, and you could feel that it had come loose, so you beckoned for Eddie to follow you to the walkway just beyond the paintings, into the shadows, so you could put your glass down on the cement base of one of the pillars.

“Could you...help me with this?” You turned your back to him and pulled your hair to the side. “Fasten this for me, please? I can’t reach it.”

Eddie licked his lips as he closed in behind you, enjoying the proximity of it, and moved his fingers to your neck, callouses from his fingers grazing your smooth skin, taking an audible, deep intake of breath as he caught a whiff of your shampoo. When he was done, his hand slid down your back, indulging himself, letting it land at the curve of your hip in a slow circle. “All good,” he said in a low whisper.

You spun around to face him with a crooked smile, the alcohol in full affect, and your eyes fell on a loose thread that had escaped and was resting on his crisp, dark red shirt, your eyes lingering on the black ink of the tattoo underneath.

You brought your hand up to pick the thread off, but then he caught your wrist, your palm sinking flat to his body, melting, right at the epicenter of his life blood; his heart racing. You shifted your gaze from his grip to meet his eyes, pupils dilated, and your breath caught in your chest; your fingers started stretching out and back against him in an alien form of physical communication.

His lips parted, gaze flicking to your mouth, holding your wrist with a grip that was firm but tender while his other hand rose to cup your face. Rough fingertips grazing your throat until they curled around the base of your head, metal rings clicking together, and then his thumb brushed across your jawline.

You bit your bottom lip softly, delirious need pulsing in your core.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Your voice was tiny, and his eyebrows knitted together, confused. You could see he was just about to say something, but then:

“Eddie,” the unmistakable voice of Charlene Gregson called to him from the other side of the gigantic painting you were both doing a poor job of hiding behind. “It’s time to go. Please pull the car around?"

She was looking directly at the two of you from only a few yards away, with her hands on her hips, but still he held your palm to his chest and searched your eyes, trying to understand. After a beat, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry,” under his breath before turning on his heel to go and play chauffeur again, shoving one hand in his pocket to get the keys as he went.

Charlene stood there and stared at you for a bit longer, her eyes taking you in from head to foot, probably trying to understand what you had that she didn’t. But it must’ve occurred to her that she was the one he was going home with and not you, because then she flipped you a little sly smile and puffed a laugh out of her nose as she turned, shaking her head.

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Part 4

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