Mob Au - Tumblr Posts

Batfam Mob!AU {Welcome to the Family}

chap 1

Welcome to the Family (Batfamily Mob!AU)

He worked quietly, quickly.

His movements were unpracticed yet showed signs of quickly developing.

The only evidence of his work was the occasional clinking of the bolts in his pockets.

Jason felt the gravel stabbing into his knees as he worked on the car’s tires. He felt the steady breeze pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He felt the pang of hunger in his stomach reminding him why he was doing this.

Jason hadn’t bothered to check the plate on the car. Whether it was out of disinterest or fear, he wouldn’t admit it. If asked, he’d say that it was because he didn’t care. No matter who the car belonged to, their tires would be his to sell now. Their fault for leaving it there anyway.

Yep.

That was the truth.

Certainly not out of fear that the license plate spelled out the 5-letter name that all Gothamites recognized. Nope. Not at all.

It wasn’t like it mattered now anyway. Jason was almost done, halfway through the third tire. The two that were already removed were propped up against the brick wall. Just two more to go. Two more and Jason could sell the tires for food. For shelter. For the unsteady promise of safety in a cheap hotel. There was no doubt in his mind that the tires were expensive. The whole car looked expensive!

It was sleek and black, windows tinted to where Jason couldn’t see the inside even if he squints. It was polished to perfection and showed no evident signs of damage, a rare sight for a Gotham City car. Surely its owner wouldn’t mind if Jason just took a little something, right? Just enough to last him a month with food and decent shelter. It’s not like it would be a big problem. Anyone that could afford a car like that could surely afford to get its tires replaced.

Jason couldn’t wait to take a hot shower. The grime that coated him could have been weeks old and his curly hair was completely tangled, itching at his scalp. His skin felt sticky through the coat of sweat on his skin. The dream of finally being able to be clean inspired him to work quicker, finishing with the third tire and moving to the fourth.

Each spot where a tire had previously been was replaced with empty space, only having a brick to hold it off the ground. The hubcaps he’d picked off were on the ground next to him, not too far in fear of someone stealing them. He worked even quicker, his movements turning sloppy. It was getting closer to 9:00 PM, the time when most successful citizens got off work to go home.

It wasn’t unlikely that the owner of the car was part of that group and would be soon returning to his tireless vehicle. He was so close, halfway done with the fourth tire and slipping bolts into his pocket.

If he pulled this off, he’d-

“I’ll admit, this isn’t the strangest thing I’ve seen today.”

Practice was the only thing that kept Jason from flinching as he turned to the direction of the voice, stance steadying into a kneel as the tire iron was wielded in a defensive hold. All Jason saw was a tall silhouette at the end of the long alley, barely illuminated by the streetlamp at the back of the alley. The man kept speaking.

“Do you know whose car that is, kid?”

Jason hadn’t dropped his defensive, replying with a snarl.

“It’s my hit! Go get your own!” His tone dripped with a heavy crime alley drawl.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

The superiority the older man carried only succeeded in pissing Jason off, his reply eager to get the man away from him.

“Whatever idiot decided to leave it here! Go get your own grab!”

Why couldn’t he just leave him alone? He found it first!

The man let out a huff of amusement before stepping further into view. While his face was now visible, Jason found no recognition in his features and stood to his feet, raising the tire iron in front of him. The man, noticing the young boy’s defensive position, raised his hands in faux surrender.

“Kid, that’s Bruce Wayne’s car.”

Jason felt his heart drop to his feet along with the tire iron. A step back, followed by another and another before he was able to see the plate on the back of the car.

‘WAYNE’ was written in bold letters, sinking Jason’s fate deeper into his mind. The car now seemed easily recognizable, like he’d seen it a hundred times before back when his father would watch the news and Jason would peek in to see.

Everyone knew Bruce Wayne. The orphan who’d inherited his parent’s business and operation after their untimely passing. The boy who people assumed was no threat compared to his parents. The man who’d proven people wrong when he rose to power and slaughtered his parent’s killer. The man took Gotham’s criminal underworld by storm, ruling with an iron fist and crushing any who dared to cross him. 

It took years for the mob territory to settle before it was disrupted once more by the arrivement of a younger boy. An acrobat who had just lost his parents the night Wayne visited the circus.

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson was adopted by Bruce soon after. He took quickly to his new lifestyle and followed in Bruce’s footsteps, electrocuting Zucco to death.

Grayson, a genius kid raised into his step-father’s line of work. He was almost scarier than Bruce Wayne himself. Almost.

Wayne was many things, defined by rumors. Some say cruel, unforgiving. Others say powerful, cunning. Right now, it didn’t matter what they said.

Because Jason was dead either way.

With a heavy gulp, Jason reached down and grabbed the tire iron, continuing his work. If he was gonna die, he’d rather it be an in-the-moment kind of thing rather than hiding from the mob for a week before being found and killed kind-of-thing. Despite his fear, Jason put on a brave façade.

“Who ‘er you s’posed to be, huh? Gonna call Wayne’s dogs on me or somethin’?”

Another step put the man 10 feet away from Jason, exposing his blue eyes to the light from the shadows.

“Bud, I’m Dick Grayson, and that,” he pointed to the car “is our ride here”

Jason couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel anything but fear at that moment. Not when the tire iron fell out of his hand and certainly not when his knees lost their support and dropped him into a sit. His mind ran a mile a minute, dropping thought after thought.

That was Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson caught him.

He said ‘our’

He wasn’t alone

Someone was with him

As if on queue, another man stepped into place beside Grayson. A taller, bulkier man.

Bruce Wayne, his mind unhelpfully supplied.

“Everything okay, Dick? Did something-“

Wayne paused, eyes darting between the car with the missing tires and the dirty boy on the ground with the tire iron at his feet. He seemed to be at a loss for words before finally settling on a horrifying sentence.

“Did you…? Did you prop up a multi-million dollar car with cracked bricks?”

Multi...

Multi-million dollar car

Jason was gonna die. They were gonna kill him- no. No, they wouldn’t kill him. They’d do something much worse. They’d torture him- no doubt. They- they could do anything. He had to do something.

“Seriously, Bruce? That’s what you decide to say?” 

Grayson spoke but Jason couldn’t hear him. Wouldn’t hear him.

He had to fix the grave he’d dug himself.

His mouth felt dry as he searched for something to say.

“I- wait- you don’t understand. It’s not what it looks like.” Seriously? His son just saw you!

As if reaching the same point, Grayson replied, “So, you weren’t just jacking the tires off the car?”

He needed to get out of this situation. He couldn’t run, they were blocking his only exit and Jason doubted he’d been able to duck through them. His breathing was getting quicker as he struggled to get air.

“I had no choice! I’m- I’m sorry. I’ll make- I’ll make things up to you just-“ he cut off with a shudder. “I’ll put them- the tires- back”

Wayne nodded to Grayson, who took gradual steps to where the tires leaned against a wall, before turning back to Jason. “We’d appreciate that” he offered a kind smile, one that surely promised hell if Jason didn’t comply.

Jason nodded and shakily pushed himself to his feet, forcing his legs to support his weight. As he turned to grab the tires, his jaw dropped in shock. Grayson was rolling a tire towards the car. 

He was so fucking dead.

Jason got to work and began tightening the bolts to the tires on the car. He really tried to ignore how Wayne was now pushing tires too, trying to focus on the feeling of his sweating palms on the cool hubcaps.

Finishing the second tire, he tried to move on to the third before a hand on his shoulder stopped him from walking to the other side of the car. Jason had to force himself to look at the man.

Grayson stared dead into his eyes, pulling Jason back a few steps with his suffocating grip. Away from the car. Grayson turned Jason to look at him before kneeling down on the gravel, no doubt dirtying his expensive suit.

Grayson took his hand off Jason’s shoulder and turned his palm out, seemingly waiting for Jason to drop something into it. 

What?

What could he possibly want? Jason had no money on him, that’s why he was even stealing the tires!

What was he gonna do? Was he really going to die before his 11th birthday? No- He couldn’t- 

“The bolts?”

Jason blinked at him, taking a second to understand before hurriedly reaching into his pocket and holding out a handful of bolts to Grayson. The man took it with a smile and handed them to Wayne, who grabbed them and proceeded to put the tires back on himself.

Jason couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight.

Bruce Wayne was fixing Jason’s mess.

The billionaire boss was getting his hands and clothes dirty fixing Jason’s attempted thievery.

He’d be lucky if they allowed him death.

“Kid, look at me”

Fear was the only thing that forced Jason to look at him, meeting his gaze.

“What’s your name?”

His eyes seemed kind yet cold all the same. He wore the notorious Grayson smile that he used when he wanted people to obey his will.

“I'm- um…It’s Jason, sir. Boss. Mr. Grayson.”

The man had the nerve to look amused at his situation.

“Jason. Where are your parents? Is there someone we can talk to?”

There wasn’t. His father was currently serving a sentence in Blackgate and his mother had made the irreversible decision that drugs were more important.

“No, Mr. Grayson. ‘s just me.”

His smile faltered.

Jason didn’t understand. Was that not the right answer? What did he want him to say?

“Your mother? Father?”

Jason shook his head, fighting back the tears threatening to form. The man’s frown deepened as Jason tried to find a way- some way- to lessen his consequences.

“Please- I won’t- I swear, I won’t tell nobody. I’ll- I won’t ever come back- Sir, I’ll- just please don’t- I can’t”

His breaths became shallow and quick, barely making their way into Jason’s lungs before being pushed out. He couldn’t breathe. He swore there was someone talking to him but he couldn’t hear it. Another voice joined in. It sounded so distant and-

“Jason!”

That was what snapped his attention back to the present. He was sitting on the ground now, both his shoulders in different men’s grips.

“Jason, breathe. In for six, hold, out for six. In for six, hold, out for six” his expression showed concern but Jason knew better than to believe the facade. He tried his best to follow Grayson’s directions, hoping to not make him angrier than he undoubtedly was.

His breathing returned to a frightened, normal pace.

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Jason. Are you okay?”

A final, pleading

“Please”

Wayne sighed.

“We’re not going to hurt you, son. We just-” another sigh, a glance back from Grayson.

He seemed to step back, finding a new point.

“Are you hungry?”

…

Jason blinked.

Because what?

Was he gonna drug him or something?

Slip something into his food?

He was gonna try to cover it up, wasn’t he?

“No! I mean- I’m full sir” He just refused food from Wayne. Someone should dig his grave. “Really, I don’t wanna be trouble” Jason gulped while all Wayne did was raise a brow in question.

“It’s no trouble at all. Alfred would be happy to make food for you.”

“Yeah! B just doesn’t want you to stay hungry. He’s a softie like that. Plus, Alfred is making pasta tonight!” Grayson chimed in.

Wayne? A softie? Somebody kill Jason now.

Or maybe they wouldn’t have to since he was sure they’d kill him soon anyway. Whoever ‘Alfred’ was would probably sneak something into his food.

But what more could Jason do? It seemed he already tested their patience enough. 

So with a sigh, he gave up, hung his head, and agreed to come with them. He was led to the now fixed car and sat into the back seat, Wayne driving and Grayson riding shotgun.

This is more of a “what-if” situation than canon (yet). Living in a criminal and mob run city can lead to unexpected situations, such as acts of self-defense ending in murder.

when one favour, leads to another good deed, that than leads to more 💗

#finding your ohana

Entropy (k.ys)

synopsis: things never went according to plan; career wise, family wise, relationship wise and especially not when you were suddenly saddled with an infant to raise but you learned to roll with the punches. except the next challenge you were about to face wasn't a punch, it was a machine gun.

pairing: kang yeosang x reader

genre: mafia au, fluff, angst and smut

word count: 21.3k

taglist: @tohokuu @bangtanxberm

Kang Yeosang was going to kindergarten.

Now this wouldn’t be weird had it not been for the fact it was already time for the preschool to close. Or that he was 26 years old.

But still, Kang Yeosang, with his hair bleached blond and wearing tattered jeans and a pair of ratty sneakers made his way towards ‘Little Ducklings Preschool’ with his hands stuffed into his hoodie. With each step he took, his heart pounded so violently against his ribcage that he felt a little pathetic. I mean, what mafia member trembled like a leaf while walking towards a place filled with toddlers?

It wasn’t quite the slimy toddlers he was afraid of, but the woman who taught them, his darling mother.

Yeosang and his mother used to be really close growing up and she was the only one to support him when he said he wanted to pursue computer science as a major and eventually started a career path of becoming a hacker. However, they had a falling out 8 months ago when she found out that he wasn’t exactly a lawful one.

No, he worked with a mafia gang named Ateez as a hacker and IT specialist. To say his mother was not pleased would be an understatement. She threw him out of the house and refused to see him ever again, horrified that the son she raised had gone so off the right path no matter how much he tried to convince her that while some of it was unethical, he did some good too.

As a last resort, he tried to contact her using an encrypted thread of messages, but she ignored them. He was hurt, but still respected that this drift was a cause of his own actions. He knew she wouldn’t have supported it but agreed to do it anyway and now he had to deal with the fallout.

They went months without any contact until one day he received a message on the thread he had forgotten about a long while ago from his mother, asking him to meet her today and that was exactly why he was headed to her preschool.

The school was quaint and tiny like he expected, the ceilings were low enough for him to touch and the stairs were short enough to make sure toddlers with their tiny and clumsy legs wouldn’t fall easily. Everything was painted so brightly, with characters and cartoons drawn on the side of the walls and even the floor.

He reached the school just as it was letting out; parents were holding the hands of their happy mini humans that skipped beside him. He was used to this of course; his mother had been a teacher all his life, so it wasn’t rare that he showed up to her kindergarten just as school was ending. However, it did seem to alarm him that most of the parents looked closer to his age. Oh god, was he already that old? Were other people his age already having kids?

His mother was standing at the exit of her classroom, waving goodbye to the children, and having short conversations with their parents. As he approached her and peeked through the classroom, he noticed only one girl was left and she was calmly drawing on a piece of paper that she was given to keep occupied until she got picked up.

His mother had missed him, he could see it in her eyes and felt it in the way her hug had lingered for just moment longer, but she still resisted making a big deal about it.

“I was actually surprised that you asked to see me, mom.” He admitted and then watched her bashfully stare into the classroom, keeping an eye on her last remaining student before she steeled her expression and looked back at him.

“I still don’t support the choices you’ve made, Yeosang.” She was cutting right to business, “But you said that you could do good, and I want to believe you. That’s why I called you here today. I need some help.”

Yeosang’s brows pinched together, what could his mother possibly want from him?

“Mom, did you involve yourself in my work?” Realizing what he was insinuating, his mother rolled her eyes, offended that he would even entertain an absolutely absurd thought such as that.

“Not me, one of parents here. She’s in a bit of a situation and I told her that you might be able to help. I’m hoping you will be.”

He immediately wanted to say no. When it came to cases like this, they either wanted money or owed someone else money. It was never a good idea to get involved but this was the first time in 8 months that his mother asked to see him, willing to look past his choices in life if he could just help this one parent and he wanted to at least find out what she needed his help was.

“Mrs. Kang!” You interrupted, rushing up to the door while looking at your watch. You grimaced when you realized you were already 25 minutes late. However, she didn’t look peeved at all, instead smiled at you kindly as you approached her with an apologetic look on your face.

“Trouble getting away from work?”

You sighed, pushing away the strands of hair that managed to fall out from your ponytail in your hurry to get there, “An absolute mess. Some idiot left the fume box open and there was a huge contamination thing and even though we went through the proper procedures, my asshole supervisor—”

It seemed like you finally realized there was another person standing beside you, “I’m interrupting something. I’m really sorry, Mrs. Kang.”

“Don’t worry about it, dearie. This is Yeosang, my son.” She smiled, gesturing to the man standing beside her and your eyes widened, remembering the conversation you had with her a couple of days ago. When she said her son could help you, you didn’t think she was being serious.

“Sol-ah, your aunt is here to pick you up.” She called and you glanced into the classroom to see your niece look up from the paper she was drawing on. She was the only one left in the classroom and your heart squeezed in your chest with guilt for leaving her alone for so long. Her face lit up when she saw you waiting by the door and she quickly gathered up her things, leaving the crayons strewn about on the table as she ran up to you.

You smiled widely, crouching to her level, and gently cupping her cheek, “Sol-ah, you should clean up after yourself.” You scolded softly, gesturing to the items she left messily on the table and even though you could see she knew what she did was wrong, she didn’t want to leave your side for a while longer. She never admitted it, but you could tell she had a little fear of abandonment that festered when she was away from you for a long time.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll clean it up.”

“I don’t want to give you more work. You already looked after her for so long.” To be honest, you were still grasping at straws when it came to this whole parenting thing but so far, you were making it work and for now that had to be enough.

“Oh hush, you work hard too. I’ll handle this, you should get home.” You wouldn’t be heading home until tonight. You’d be bringing Sol to your workplace, leaving her in the day-care beside it even though she always cried and screamed, not wanting to be left alone again for the second time in the day. Even though it practically ripped your heart apart to see her face wet with tears, your work demanded you to be in the lab the entire day and it wasn’t safe to bring a child there.

While you were looking for other job opportunities, working at your current job was paying the bills, putting a roof over your head, and letting you live relatively comfortably for the time being and you couldn’t give it up no matter how much you wanted to.

You took Sol’s bag from her, kissing her cheek and like clockwork, she returned a sloppy one on yours, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck before you both held hands and walked away from the classroom. Yeosang just stood there beside his own mother, feeling a little out of place before she smacked his arm lightly and motioned him to follow you, which he did but not before kissing her cheek goodbye.

You didn’t even realize that Yeosang was following you until you got to your car, and he tapped on your shoulder. You acknowledged him with a polite nod of your head before looking back at your niece and opening the car door.

Once you were sure she was sitting comfortably in the car seat and buckled her in, you switched on the car and played the soundtrack to frozen to keep her occupied, “Sol-ah, auntie needs to talk to her friend for a minute. Are you okay with waiting until we’re done?”

She looked a little concerned for a moment before you reassured her that you’d be right outside the car and then timidly nodded, glancing at Yeosang before looking at her lap. You gently shut the door, glancing at her as she rocked her legs to the rhythm and smiled softly.

“Sorry about that. Thank you for coming here, your mother is really kind for calling you, but you don’t really have to do anything. I’ll tell her that you couldn’t really do anything to help me.”

He raised a brow, “How about you tell me what you need help with so I can make that judgement for myself?”

You seemed unsure and he could tell by the way your hands tightened around the strap of your purse before you glanced back at Sol sitting in the backseat, giddily singing along to ‘Do You Wanna Build A Snowman’ and sighed.

“It’s kind of a long story.” You admitted, glancing up at him but his stance was steady, not representing any rush to get away quickly and like this was all just one big formality.

He glanced at the girl sitting inside the car that seemed content with just listening to the songs from her favourite movies. Even though you made sure it wasn’t playing too loudly, the car was still vibrating lightly from the beats of the songs.

“She doesn’t look like she’s in a rush.”

You chuckled and nodded, “Well, first off, I’m (Y/N) (L/N) and that’s Sol, my niece. She’s my sister’s daughter. My sister and I were close growing up but when I turned twenty, she kind of went MIA. She rarely visited and barely ever called or texted. About 2 years ago, one night, she showed up at my apartment. She was a little frantic…...”

Frantic could be considered an understatement when she showed up at your house at in the middle of the night with a large bundle of blankets cradled in her arms. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was pale and sunken like she hadn’t eaten in months.

“Listen I don’t have a lot of time to explain but you’re the only one I could trust.” She rambled, stepping into your apartment and even though you tried to sit her down and get her to explain, she was in shambles and couldn’t even get her thoughts straightened out enough to explain her situation.

She shoved the blankets into your arms and your eyes widened when you realized that within the cloth lay a baby girl that remained fast asleep even though she was being jostled around. She threw a bag on the couch, and you noticed a birth certificate belonging to the baby among other things inside it.

“Her name is Sol and she’s my daughter.” Your head snapped towards her in shock, but she didn’t look fazed, only staring at you back with determination, “I need you to take care of her. Please.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” You frantically said, anxiety building up from the way she was pacing and suddenly saying all these things that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Her father is a horrible person. A mafia boss. And he’s looking for her and I. I’m going far away, but I need to keep her safe. Don’t contact the police, don’t look for me, and please just look after her and keep her far away from her father. I beg you.”

That was all she said before she ran out the door and slammed it behind her. You hesitated for a second, mind short circuiting from all the information you received in the last few minutes before you thought to run after her.

Unfortunately, the baby chose that minute to wake up, screaming her lungs out from being woken up and you were left trying to calm her down. She was inconsolable, wailing loudly as her face slowly turned red from the amount of screaming and now overwhelmed and flustered, you couldn’t help the frustrated tears that began running down your cheeks as you wept beside her.

“…I tried looking for her without notifying the police but it’s like she dropped off the map and no one has seen or heard from her.” You explained.

“You know that if she’s gone off the grid for 2 years after running away from the mafia, there’s a huge chance she’s—”

“Dead?” You prompted when he trailed off, not wanting to upset you, “I’m coming to terms with that. But that isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?” Yeosang asked.

“Her father is looking for her. There have been people poking around my workplace and apartment, asking around about my sister. I’m scared that once he finds out that I have Sol, he’s going to take her. And I can’t let Sol go to him, I just can’t. But I don’t know what to do, or to whom to go.” You explained, suddenly feeling anxious about the whole thing. Saying it aloud now was staring to make everything feel real, even though you were trying to avoid it.

So far, you were content living in the imaginary safe world that you set up for Sol, so she didn’t have to live in fear of a scary man finding her and taking her away from her auntie, but it seemed like you were also starting to believe your own act.

“Do you know who he is? Or what gang he’s from?”

You shook your head, frowning, “She didn’t tell me anything. Listen, Yeosang, I know I’m asking for a lot, and you have no reason to help me but I’m really in trouble here and your mother tells me that you can help. I’m ready to do anything to repay you, can you please just consider helping me out?”

When it came to Sol, you weren’t beneath grovelling. In the 2 years that you spent raising her, you had come to value her above anything and everything else in your life and even the thought of her being in danger could have you selling your soul to anyone that could keep her safe.

Yeosang looked at you while you were staring at your shoes while clutching the door handle of the car tightly, but he still noticed the way your fingers slightly shook from the grip. You were bearing your soul to him during your first meeting, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little overwhelmed by it.

“I’ll look into it.” He said, suddenly remembering how his mother had clasped his hand so tightly and requested him to help you. He didn’t want to disappoint her again.

You breathed a sigh of relief, smiling widely as you fished through your purse and grabbed a business card to hand to him, “That’s my phone number, in case you want to contact me.”

Luckily, the soundtrack seemed to finish at that moment and Sol was lightly tapping on the window with her tiny fist, “Auntie!”

You spared one last smile at Yeosang, asking him if he wanted a ride anywhere which he declined before getting into your car and pulling out of the parking space. He watched you drive away, pulling out his phone to write down your license plate number before deciding to take his leave.

He chuckled when he noticed the little girl staring at him from the window just as you drove away from the preschool.

***

Your life was all about adapting to change. Like when you were 22 and fresh out of college and you got employed by a chemical company, you had to change your inspiration and interest in the field when you realized that your job did not in fact include blowing up things in chemical explosions.

You grew up attached to the hip with your sister and close to your family but since your parents’ retirement when they moved to the countryside and your sister cutting off contact, you had to learn to rely on yourself when it came to day-to-day things.

And then, the most important of all, when Sol came into your life, you had to change everything. Your bedroom became Sol’s as soon as she was old enough to have her own and you were stuck using the pull-out couch. You had to prepare all your meals in advance and in bulk so after a long day of work, you could immediately give her dinner, give her a bath, and then put her to sleep before tending to yourself.

You had to wake up earlier so you could get her ready and then drop her off at kindergarten. Your lunch breaks were spent driving her to day-care after kindergarten let up before shovelling down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich you made yourself and Sol for lunch. Pay checks were put into the bank for the future and her school fund and whatever you managed to save for spending were all to take her to the newest Disney movie or a children’s fair.

And finally, the most important change that happened was in your work ethic. Usually, you were on top of your work, finishing on-sight work and immediately filling out the report that very day. However, now you let weeks of reports build up and punch the clock in the lab. Then when the time finally came to submit them, you would inform your supervisor that you’d be working from home to finish them.

Sol would miss a day of preschool as well and you’d spend the entire day together, with you working on the reports before she woke up and after she slept and during any time in between.

It wasn’t the best situation, you’d admit. But every night when you tucked her in and turned off the light, you’d feel reenergised just watching her peaceful face as she cuddled her penguin plushie. Yes, your muscles were screaming and yes, your stomach had been grumbling for so long that it eventually gave up, but it was so worth it to see her grow up.

When you first met Sol as a two-year-old, she had an unattractive choppy bob, was wobbly on her feet, cried loudly and constantly. It took weeks for her to stop crying for her mother and get used to the fact that you’d be consoling her now when she woke up in the middle of the night and that it’d be you who fed her. It wasn’t like you were the only one who had challenges, no, the trauma of her mother leaving her stuck with her even as she grew up.

You didn’t know why though; you had talked to her paediatrician about it, but she said that it wasn’t your fault. You loved her enough to compensate for her mother and took care of her exceptionally but her sudden severance of her first relationship had understandably made a mark on the way she made relationships in the future.

You could tell; she was attached and feared strangers. She never let you leave without telling her how long you’d be gone and where you were going. Hence the reason you stopped going for drinks with your friends after long days of work. Instead, you met them for lunch while Sol tagged along.

Sol wasn’t very demanding, that you were thankful for. She didn’t need constant attention and rarely felt neglected when you weren’t paying attention to her. For her, it was enough that you were in the house with her, and she was laying in your lap while she watched a movie on the TV, and you typed noisily on your computer.

Today was such a day, your adorable niece was watching ‘Tangled’ while she happily munched on the fried rice with sausage that you had cooked up for lunch. You took your eyes off the screen only for a few seconds to make sure she was eating her vegetables along with her lunch and not just pushing it to the side.

Sol clumsily sang along to the songs, and you chuckled. A lot of those snooty mothers at her preschool turned their noses at you because you let her watch so much TV, but she was the only 4-year-old in her class that knew big words and developed skills for understanding the meaning of words from context just because she heard it in her favourite movies.

Considering you had no friends and Sol didn’t have any friends that could drive over here, you were alarmed when the doorbell rang. Sol on the other hand, who only ever heard the doorbell when you ordered takeout, looked excited.

When you opened the door, Mrs. Kang’s son was standing there with a blank expression and lingering slightly awkwardly in the hallway.

“Hey! You! You’re at my house! And I don’t remember giving you my address?” You rambled, not opening the door too much and he nodded, the image of cool even though you were slightly freaked out.

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

It’s true; you had absolutely no idea. Which actually made you feel kind of pathetic considering you knew all the names of the Winx Club fairies, their elemental powers, and the magical land they came from. And yet you couldn’t remember the name of the guy who could likely help keep your niece safe.

“Sang…Yeob?”

“That’s an actor.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you’re here.”

“I hacked into the kindergarten’s database and found your home address.” He replied, acting like that was completely normal which slightly concerned you, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t difficult. Kindergartens don’t really have a firewall.”

“Yes, because that’s what I was concerned about.”

Now that you were saying it, you were kind of concerned about it. Maybe Sol should transfer? Before you even realized you were already spiralling, and you held the door almost close to turn around and spare a glance at Sol who was very calmly eating her lunch.

“Listen, I’ve got some information about the guy you’re trying to find. May I come in?” You almost thought of saying no and closing the door in his face but then you remembered how Mrs. Kang told you that her son ‘knew his way around computers’.

“Uh, sure.” Cautiously, you let him in and lead him towards the dining table. He had a bag along with him that he opened as soon as he sat down. You hovered a little awkwardly by the door and Sol seemed to notice the presence of someone new in the house.

She quickly paused the movie and padded over to you and hid behind your legs to peek at Yeosang who grabbed a thin laptop from the bag. She looked up at you with wide eyes before mouthing ‘Who’s that?’

You didn’t want to alarm her and say it was just a stranger and make her feel a little insecure with an outsider in her home, but you also didn’t want her to feel so comfortable with him that her judgment may be impaired if they ever met without your supervision.

“Uh, this is auntie’s friend, Yeosang.” You whispered, crouching down so she wouldn’t be looking up at you. She nodded contemplatively and looked back at him who continued to pretend like he couldn’t hear you talking about and staring at him. Children weren’t really the experts in subtlety.

“Like Mi-nah?” She whispered back, trying awfully hard to keep her voice low but he definitely heard her, considering the way the corner of his mouth crooked up in amusement. Mi-nah was her “best” friend at kindergarten who took Sol’s blue play-doh without asking and you didn’t like her, but you assumed you couldn’t do much about it.

You wiped away a grain of rice stuck to the corner of her mouth and nodded. Satisfied with your explanation, she went back to the coffee table in front of the television and continued to eat. You made a mental note not to let her watch TV while eating dinner because she was taking too long to finish.

When you stepped beside the dining table to see what Yeosang wanted to show you, you were reminded of the burning of your stomach in hunger. The pot on the kitchen counter with the remaining fried rice called your attention and you smiled a little shyly at the man sitting at the table.

“Do you want some lunch?”

And that’s how you both ended up eating fried rice and sausage from plastic bowls themed with the Bare Bears (Yeosang with Ice, You with Panda and Sol with Grizzly) while he discussed his plans with you. He unintentionally laughed when he realized that you cut the sausages to resemble octopi with little sesame seed eyes. But both you and Sol agreed that they tasted better when they were cut that way.

“Alright so I don’t really have much because you haven’t really given me a place to start. I need all the information about your sister and whoever this father is.” He said and you nodded, grabbing your laptop from the living room, only sparing a few seconds to chastise Sol for not finishing her lunch still and telling her that it better be finished before the movie gets over.

“I found out that the hospital that my sister had gone to during the first few months of her pregnancy was different to the one she went to from around her third trimester to when she gave birth.” You informed, recalling the time you had done your own investigation shortly after Sol was put in your care.

You found out the hospital she was born in from her birth certificate and upon asking them about your sister, they pointed you to her first hospital from where her files were transferred. The first hospital told you that she came there for monthly check-ups and ultrasounds with the father of the baby until one day she stopped showing up and a request for her file came from another hospital.

“She used to show up there with the father but since it was way before the birth, his name wasn’t logged on. Or maybe he requested for it not to get registered. Something must have happened during her pregnancy that drove them apart for her to transfer hospitals and show up alone. Then Sol is born, and my sister goes on the run for the next year, give or take before finally giving her to me.”

You made sure to keep your voice lower than the sound of Rapunzel and Eugene singing ‘I See The Light’ in the living room so that Sol wouldn’t get curious as to why you were talking about her and then not leave you alone.

You had your sister’s legal name but just the name and nothing else makes a person difficult to track so you scoured through whatever files you had compiled during your own search of your sister that came up short. You gave Yeosang the frame of time that Sol was given to you as well as your sisters social security number.

When he pulled up the servers for all the airports in the city and then something that looked similar to the source code, with countless lines of numbers and letters you couldn’t understand with a bunch of random symbols in the middle and all in the classic ‘hacker’ style font.

“I don’t know how I feel about you hacking into government servers.” You admitted, feeling nervous about all of this. He was going to do something very illegal and in your house. Wouldn’t the authorities be able to track you from your IP address or Wi-Fi or something like that?

“Don’t worry, I already hacked into them years ago and set up a backdoor for me to enter without alerting anybody and do as I please. They check the codes every once in a while, for maintenance, but I set up a polymorphic code to change its location and make it blend in so it’s undetected during checks. Pretty smart right?”

You ignored the fact that you didn’t understand a word he said and just nodded, sheepishly muttering a few words in agreement before you voiced your concerns to him once again.

“Just think of it as a library. All I’m coming in to do is read the information. I’m not doing anything to the books, just reading them.”

“If that was the case then it’d be available to everyone.” You replied curtly. You recalled a chapter from one of the many parenting books that were on your bookshelf about teaching your kids right from wrong and when to show leniency; you made a mental note to research how to deal with situations when the ends justify the means with Sol.

“Yes, but that’s the reason you haven’t found anything in two years. Now do you want my help or not?”

You sighed in defeat and nodded. He quickly opened up the database of all of the airports from the past 2 years of travel and then used a programme to filter all the saved results and find anything that might resemble your sister.

Nothing came up around the time that she left, meaning that if she had left the country then she hadn’t used a plane to leave from here. That made your heart sink; even though you definitely hadn’t kept your hopes up, you did kind of pray that Yeosang would be the key to all your problems.

He changed the frame of time to 5 years and ran the programme again.

This time a couple results came up.

During the time your sister would have been pregnant with Sol, she travelled somewhere and then came back right before Sol was born. Meaning that if she hadn’t travelled alone, her companion was most likely the father. Luckily, the flight information was still saved and Yeosang opened the passenger list from the same plane and extracted the passenger information from it. He eliminated any ineligible candidates and then showed the compiled list of people that could have been the father.

“I’ll do a background check on them after I head home.” He said, beginning to pack up his stuff.

“Why can’t you do it right now?”

“You’re sweating buckets because I hacked the airport, and I don’t want to know what’s going to happen when I hack a police database.”

So that’s what was running down your back.

Finally, you stopped hearing the TV in the background and Sol padded into the kitchen with her thankfully empty bowl and placed it by the sink. You really weren’t in the mood for her to have a fit when you forced her to eat her vegetables and then give you the silent treatment until you promised her dessert and then watched ‘Tangled’. Again.

She tiptoed at the table, peering up at Yeosang’s face with an inquisitive look and you knew what was going to come after. Damn, children are so difficult to work with; do you shut her down now and hinder her curious nature for the sake of social cues or do you let her be a little quirky and ask questions?

“How old are you?” She asked, innocently.

“26.” Yeosang answered simply and even though it was pretty normal, she gasped at his answer and her eyes began twinkling, startling him just a little bit, “Wow, you’re so big!”

You laughed under your breath and a smile grew on your face at his expression which was a mix between amused and befuddled. That was something that adults couldn’t quite understand about children, and you had been caught off guard by her questions many times before. Children were smart enough to know when things were different to what they knew and how to ask questions about it, it was just that they were a little inexperienced when it came to obvious answers.

“Did you finish school?” She squeaked out, staring up at him with wide eyes and an excited smile.

Yeosang thankfully took her questions in stride and just laughed good-naturedly before nodding. Though you could see that he was still a little uncomfortable.

“Can you sit in the front seat of the car?!”

He smirked and booped her nose with a finger, “I can even drive one.”

She gasped and scampered over to your side, patting your thighs excitedly, “Auntie, he’s so cool!”

You smiled at her and nodded, patting her head gently, “You wanna know something? He’s actually Mrs. Kang son.”

Sol gasped and looked at Yeosang for confirmation, who just nodded. Then her face scrunched up in confusion and a pout formed on her face, “I thought childrens have to be small?”

“Well, they’re small at the start but then after a few years they become big like Yeosang and I. You’ll become a big girl one day too.” You explained and you noticed Yeosang beginning to take his bag to leave. He felt a little out of place, which was understandable, so you cut your explanation short and promised to talk about this again over dinner before you led him to the front door.

“Thanks for everything today.” You murmured, opening the door for him and he shook his head, “Do you want me to come over after I get the results or just call you?”

“Depends, my schedule is pretty full. If you find out when I’m busy, then I’d prefer just an email so I can look it over after work.”

Sol lingered by your legs, letting the two of you talk without her interrupting but you could tell from the way she began shuffling from one foot to another that she was getting impatient. She was getting a little groggy, you realized that you’d have to put her down for a nap and mentally prepared yourself for the fight she was going to put up.

“You work a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, things in my life continue to be a little unexpected so I figure saving money for a rainy day would be good.” You explained, being incredibly careful not to mention anything that would make Sol think you’re talking about her.

He nodded empathetically and it was weird how much relief his understanding brought you. It was difficult to find someone in the same boat you were, considering your circles in your career and how you didn’t have time outside it for anyone else other than Sol. So, someone who understood that you were doing the best you could muster was something you really craved for.

Of course, Sol was worth it, but it didn’t hurt to hear once in a while. Even though he didn’t actually say it.

“I’ll be going.” He said and suddenly Sol piped up like she had been rehearsing her line for a while, “Bye!”

He spared her a kind smile, “Bye, Sol.”

Her cheeks turned red, and you shut the door after nodding at Yeosang. She was smiling shyly at her shoes, and you weren’t sure whether you were entertained or deeply disturbed by how she was suddenly taken by Yeosang. You had a crush on Robert Downy Junior when you were kid, it wasn’t weird. Except it was.

Guess you knew what you’d be researching on several parenting blogs after you finished your work.

Yeosang was still standing outside the door when he heard you call out “Sol-ah, nap time.”

A smile grew on his face before he realized it when it was followed by a loud whine, “But I don’t wanna!”

***

Yeosang had certainly gotten more comfortable with you since you had last met him. Even though you told him you had a pretty busy schedule, he usually showed up after Sol was asleep so you both could talk in privacy. So far, the search had been going pretty well, considering before you met him, you were absolutely clueless.

You were simply happy that it was going somewhere.

Out of the men that were with your sister on the plane, a couple of them had priors but not one of them had anything extremely incriminating that would make it obvious. So, he was resorting to finding other means to track down what your sister had been doing a couple of years before she got pregnant.

It was another late night for the both of you. You were drinking tea and trying to catch up on all the unopened mails and paying any due bills. Yeosang was pretending to enjoy the tea you made him while trying to track down any credit or debit cards your sister might have registered under her name.

Around one-thirty in the middle of the night, a doorbell rang, and you shared a glance with Yeosang.

“I’m not expecting anybody.” You whispered, feeling something similar to dread and panic fill in your stomach when you noticed the alarmed expression on his face. Whoever was behind the door began knocking incessantly, bordering on bangs that made the hinges shake.

“Stay with Sol.” He whispered to you before reaching behind his back to pull out a gun. Your eyes widened, “Why do you have a gun?!”

“Do you really want to know?” He replied in a harsh whisper, and you glared at him, “Have you been bringing a gun into my house while my niece is here?”

“Do you want to continue arguing about this or do you want me to answer the door?”

The barrage of knocks on your front door had weirdly tuned out when you were having a whispered fight with Yeosang. Now it seemed like it got louder, matching the harsh rhythm of your heart and you nodded before getting up and hurrying to Sol’s room. You locked the door behind you, cowering by her bed and making sure she hadn’t stirred.

It was like a horror movie began playing out in your own apartment. The door even emitted an eerie squeal when Yeosang finally opened it and you heard a couple bangs and thuds like they were fighting. You flinched at every sound, finding whatever comfort you could in the sight of Sol sleeping peacefully, relieved that she hadn’t woken up. No doubt, she’d be in tears and frightened if she saw how anxious you were.

Then it was silent.

A soft knock came at Sol’s door and your stomach churned, “(Y/N), open up.”

You sighed in relief at Yeosang’s voice, rushing to unlock the door and meet his eyes. His hair and clothes were a little messed up and his gun was still in his hands, but it was his expression that scared you; it was steely and cold with a touch of alarm. Usually, he was hard to read, keeping his expression stoic but you had gotten the hang of sensing his emotions in the few times of meeting him.

He was usually calm with a touched amused and you had yet to see such an expression from him and now that you have, you realized that something had gone very, very wrong.

“Get Sol. We need to get out of here, now.”

A thousand questions were rushing through your head. Who was at the door? What had happened to him? Why did you have to leave? Where would you go? But you kept your lips sealed, rushing to Sol’s side, and bundling in her blankets, pulling her into your arms.

She woke up now that you were carrying her, looking up at you groggily, “Auntie? What’s happening?”

“We’re going on a little trip, Sol-ah.” You told her, forcing a smile on your face to keep from scaring her, “Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“Where are we going?” She asked, slowly beginning to fall back asleep as you rocked her gently, “I dunno. Yeosang is taking us somewhere. Go to sleep now.”

You handed her to Yeosang that was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. He was startled for a second, holding her tightly against his chest on instinct and you rushed through the apartment getting your hands on whatever you could and stuffing it into any bag you could find.

Sol’s favourite plushie and a few of her clothes, all your passports and such, grabbing a pair of shoes for her before you slipped on your own and grabbed your car keys. When you rushed out of the apartment, you took a moment to glance over the railing in the corridor and your stomach hollowed out when you saw the silhouette of what looked like a body on the ground floor.

Still, you didn’t ask Yeosang about it, not wanting to know and just led the way down to the parking garage.

You sat quietly in the front seat while Yeosang drove to wherever he was taking the two of you. Sol was buckled up in her car-seat, her blanket snug around her and you stole a glance of her before looking out the window and staring at the lamp posts that passed the car.

Yeosang called someone while you just tried to wrap your head around everything that had just happened.

“Hey, Mingi. I have a—” He spared a glance at your shaking form in the passenger seat and chose to speak very carefully, “Situation that I need you to take care of. I’ll send you the address. Try and get it done in the next hour. Yeah, thanks.”

When he set down the phone in the cupholder, he noticed the way silent tears were slowly dripping down your cheeks. You were cupping your mouth shut, trying to get yourself to calm down but you couldn’t help but cry. This helplessness, this feeling of not knowing what was coming next; it was the exact same thing you had felt when Sol was dropped off in your apartment all those years ago.

You had done everything in your power to keep from ever feeling like that again. You read a hundred parenting books, you made sure to keep Sol comfortable enough with you so that she grew up with a healthy relationship with her caretaker and you had spent every waking moment thinking about what was best for her so much that it border lined on obsession.

Because it was these moments that made you wonder why you were doing this in the first place? Why were you letting yourself go through something so terrible and taxing and putting yourself through so much grief for something you never even asked for? You never asked for this, you never asked for all these hardships to come into your life, it was just given to you.

And it would be so easy to just give them up.

These were the horrible, disgusting thoughts that often invaded your mind when you found things to be difficult. That it would be so easy to just take a step away from this chaos and then never come back. It would be so easy to just do the bad thing.

So, overwrought with guilt and something dark inside you, you cried silently in the seat beside Yeosang, trying so hard to keep it together and not jump out of the moving vehicle that instant.

Yeosang sighed and pulled up to a drive-thru in McDonalds, ignoring the surprised look you sent him when he lowered down the window.

“Can I have like a shit ton of nuggets, fries, all the sauces you have, two hot chocolates and whatever sweet cake or donut thing you have? Oh, and please give us a lot of napkins.”

He then turned back to you, “There’s no easy way to say this—” You held your breath, “But I really don’t like how you make your tea.”

Yeosang didn’t really get to appreciate how hilarious you looked when the incredulous laugh left your mouth, face red and blotchy from the crying with sunken eyes that seemed to sparkle because of the tears that were held in them.

***

Yeosang had taken you back to his friend’s home. He lived in an apartment not too far from it, but he thought keeping the two of you in the Hongjoong’s home would have been safer. You had arrived at around 3 a.m. after Yeosang had explained what was going to happen from this point on in the parking lot of a McDonalds while you ate chicken nuggets.

He had been surprisingly responsible and ready to take you and Sol in. You don’t remember ever being able to rely on someone in the last 2 years. Hell, some of your co-workers were unable and incompetent when it came to their own jobs, so you had been bearing the brunt of work independently for a long while.

But now, Yeosang was starting to become a supporting figure in your life, and you were trying so hard not to rely on him completely because you knew that one day the rug would be pulled out from under your feet, and you would end up just as unprepared and burdened as you were the first time when your sister had dumped Sol on you in the first place.

You didn’t want to take that chance.

For the moment, you were going to stay in Yeosang’s assigned room in Hongjoong’s house where he sometimes stayed over. It was a pretty empty and minimalistic room aside from the arrangement of computers in the corner and the extendable desk that extended till the bed so he could quite literally work until he fell asleep.

He woke the two of you up bright and early, well it was early for you but since Yoon-ah had a good night’s rest, she wasn’t nearly as tired as you were. You wanted to sleep in, emotionally exhausted and extremely dehydrated from all the crying you did last night but Yeosang didn’t let you, going as far as to yank you in a sitting position and force feeding you a cup of coffee while Sol cheered for you to wake up.

It wasn’t until after you washed up (where Sol threw a tantrum about brushing her teeth because the toothbrush that Yeosang bought from the convenience store wasn’t the same as her own with the Disney princesses on it) that he told you that he was going to introduce you to his friends. You had quickly understood that his friends did the same kind of work as him.

“Are you sure Sol should be meeting them?” You fretted as he showed you around the entire mansion. This place was so unnecessarily big that you couldn’t even imagine ever being able to find your way around. Luckily, the bathroom and kitchen were not too far from it so hopefully, you’d never have to venture any place else without Yeosang.

“They’re not scary people, (Y/N). And besides, this is more for Sol anyway. She should know their faces at least in case they would ever need to pick her up.” He told you, leading you back to the main room that was beside his own.

“Why would they ever have to pick her up without me?” You asked pointedly, widening your eyes at him at his implication. He didn’t reply and you sighed, making sure that Sol wasn’t wandering around and getting distracted by the other rooms.

When you entered the room to find nine new faces staring at you, Sol ducked behind your back, clinging onto your coat. It was no surprise that she would react like this, she was very timid and reserved when it came to people her own age but being in a room with so many people that she didn’t recognize that were way bigger than her made her feel scared.

“This is (Y/N) and her niece, Sol.” Yeosang introduced, and you tried your best to give them a smile, bowing your head at them. You had already met Hongjoong last night when you entered his home. He, along with his wife, had seen you with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose after sitting outside the car in the cold and crying for nearly an hour.

The hacker introduced them all by name to you and you had to admit that he was right. You were expecting giant men with huge scars and face tattoos and machine guns and leather jackets but if you hadn’t known any better, they just looked like random dudes. The beanpole, who was named Yunho, was even wearing a fluffy lavender sweater and you were reeling at just how normal they looked.

You heard your phone ring in the other room and realized it was probably your boss who was calling to find out just what emergency had you using all of your vacation days without any notice. You gave the rest of them an apologetic smile before excusing yourself.

Sol, who had been hiding behind your back, had now been exposed to the rest of them and upon realizing that they were all looking at her, scrambled behind Yeosang’s legs, wrapping her arms tightly around his thigh and smushing her face against his jeans.

He chuckled awkwardly, shooting a glare at Mingi and Wooyoung who gave him teasing grins before looking down at the girl who seemed close to tears. It was the first time you had left him alone with her, no doubt you were still out of it, considering everything that happened in the past few days.

He gently pulled her away from his leg before kneeling to look her in the eye with a tender smile, “You want to meet my friends? They’re nice, I promise.”

She looked uncertain, holding onto the front of his shirt in tiny fists as she glanced back at the rest of them. They all gave her the warmest smiles they could muster but she still looked a little frightened.

Yeosang gently patted her head, “It’s okay. I’ll be here the whole time.”

With that reassurance, she silently nodded, holding his hand tightly as he led her to the rest of them.

***

“His name’s Logan Nam.” Yeosang informed you, turning the computer to show you the screen. A picture of a man who couldn’t be more than 5 years older than you stared back. At first glance, he looked put together, with his hair slicked back neatly and his clothes were crisp and clean. He looked more like a rich, mysterious CEO type character that you would see in a drama.

But something insidious was hidden in his dark eyes that made your skin crawl as you felt like he could somehow see you through the screen.

“The guy that came by your apartment was a criminal for hire. I got his phone and most of the communication was deleted aside from a significant amount deposited to his bank account before it happened.” He told you, passing the phone so you could look over the text message. You kept your hands tucked underneath your thighs, not willing to touch something that was most likely stolen from the pockets of a dead man.

The memory of his cold body at the bottom of the balcony had your food creeping up your throat, leaving a sick burn of acid behind. You knew it wasn’t your fault and he more than deserved it, but you just couldn’t believe that you were okay with killing somebody. Your stomach curled and twisted with guilt.

You nodded at him with a stoic face.

“The money came from one of Logan’s burner companies. I can’t confirm if he’s Sol’s father or your sister’s partner but there’s a huge chance that it’s him. His accounts are so encrypted that I can’t check anything myself, but I cross-referenced any police charges he has. He got a ticket for a fender bender in Thailand the same time that your sister travelled there. Then he got charged for a DUI a couple months later after she was back here.”

If this was Sol’s father, then it relieved you that they looked nothing alike. No, the sweet girl in the next room had taken after your sister with cute, round features and wide eyes that made you think that she had stars suspended in them. She looked nothing like the emotionless man that you had just seen.

The thought of him getting his tainted hands on her precious, pure skin made your stomach fill with sticky, molten, disgust.

“So, what now?” You asked meekly. You now knew the face of the person behind your life ending up in shambles, but you still had no idea how to fight him. If Logan Nam was a missile, you were a pen; completely unrelated, worthless, and weak and yet you had more responsibilities and expectations.

“We figure out his schedule and plant a marksman? Sooji’s been getting pretty good at sniping lately.” He wondered out loud and your eyes widened.

“What?! No! Have you lost your mind?! I’m not comfortable with killing another person, Yeosang!”

He looked perturbed, like you were suggesting something completely illogical when all you were asking was to follow the law. ‘No killing people’ was a pretty big rule, and the mere thought of someone losing their life at your command had your skin pricking with cold sweat and your heart racing.

It was too much because you knew that this wouldn’t be it. How could it be? The weight of what you had done would swing over your head for the rest of your life. You’d always be looking over your shoulder and this one decision could even be a can of worms. You knew, if you went through with this, your life as you knew it would never be the same and it would be like watching your entire world erupt into flames before you.

“(Y/N), we need to fight fire with fire.” He replied.

“No, you fight fire with water.” You replied haughtily and even though you were trying to keep your cool, you were realizing that you were on the verge of a panic attack. Your sweaty hand gripped the fabric of your skirt tightly and you could feel the tremors you were trying hard to ignore.

“(Y/N) …” He prompted gently but you shook your head, feeling sweat bead at your hairline. Your pupils were shaking and the more you tried He reached for your hand that was clasped tightly by your side and his skin felt cool against yours.

You scrunched your eyes shut, “Please, let’s have this conversation later.”

He nodded before whispering to you, “Okay.”

***

Kids can really take some things for granted. You realized that when Sol suddenly started regarding to Yeosang as the smarter one between the two of you. It was downright insulting. Here you were, putting a roof over her head for the better part of her life using money that you earned from a job that you earned after putting yourself through many years in university and she didn’t think that you were capable of reciting the names of the planets.

It wasn’t that she thought you were stupid, you realized that, but rather just thought of Yeosang as extremely smart and you’d be lying if you said his smug smile every time, she asked him a question first wasn’t frustrating. But you tried to reason with yourself, saying that it was just because he was new and pretty, that Sol was fixating on him. You were sure, that he would turn into old news soon enough.

You were making the bed after breakfast while Yeosang typed away at his computer. He had insisted that there were staff that could handle the housekeeping, but you were beginning to get a little stir crazy, and you needed to keep moving or it felt like you would just die.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous.” He said and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice and rolled your eyes, tucking the sheets in tighter.

“I know you think you’re so smart, but you’re sadly mistaken.” You replied haughtily.

“Oh, so you’re not upset that Sol thinks you’re an idiot?” He quipped with such an infuriating gaze that made you want to chuck a pillow at his head, but you scoffed instead, spotting Sol as she strolled back into the room. Like expected, she went straight into Yeosang’s arms.

“Yeosang! I have another question!”

“What’s up, sweet pea?” He asked, placing her on his lap and ducked your head to hide a smile, pretending like you were smoothing out any wrinkles in the sheets. He was getting so much more comfortable with Sol, even looking after her while you showered or needed some alone time and every time you looked at them together, your heart felt just a tiny bit lighter. Like maybe, even for a few seconds, he could hold onto some of your burdens and make it just a little easier for you.

“Where do babies come from?”

The look he shot you was all the retribution you needed, and you couldn’t stop the blatant laugh that left your mouth when his expression dropped. Sol, who thought you were making fun of her, pouted before turning back to Yeosang and tapping his shoulders insistently.

“Who’s the idiot now?” You cackled.

***

“Since I couldn’t hack into his bank account without alerting him, I had to hack the bank and do a manual check of all his transactions.” Yeosang told you, pushing up his glasses that slid down the bridge of his nose. You realized a little late that you had gotten distracted by the view of Yeosang with fluffy hair and thin glasses that you hadn’t been processing anything he was saying.

“And, well, he makes a monthly payment and I wondered what could possibly require monthly payments but also would be done using legal banking.” He rambled on and you nodded, not quite understanding why he was telling you about this.

When he was wearing cute sweaters and shuffling around the room in socks with a cup of coffee in his hands, it was hard to believe he was part of the mafia. He always looked so domestic, you often found yourself feeling like a small family when you would walk into the room to find Sol asleep in his lap while he typed away noisily.

It was moments like those when you tried extremely hard to snap yourself out of it. This wasn’t a game, and you couldn’t trick yourself into pretending to be his little wife. He was the only thing stopping your life from crumbling apart before your eyes. The last flimsy string that remained strong on a tearing rope as you hung helplessly off the side of a cliff.

You weren’t letting yourself rely on him too much, you wanted to remain strong so that when the moment came, you’d be able to part ways and go back to normal. It only made sense, he was never here for you to begin with, he was doing this as a favour to his mother and even though you knew his fondness for Sol and empathy for you made him work hard, you knew that once Sol was safe, you wouldn’t be in each other’s lives anymore.

You still let yourself keep that little bud and glimmer of wistful longing in your heart. As long as you kept it to yourself, you could admire him for his hard work and his intelligence and his beauty. You hadn’t felt about anyone this way in years. When Sol had come into your life, you had continued to date for a while, but no one wanted to be in a relationship with ‘a single mother’. You tried to argue that she wasn’t yours and you were no mother, but you could understand why to them it would make no difference.

That had been the last fragment of your old life that you had been hanging onto with a tight grip; that Sol wasn’t yours. She wasn’t your child, and she wasn’t your responsibility. You were just looking after her in your sister’s absence but as it became harder and harder to ignore that just because she wasn’t your child, didn’t mean you weren’t her parent.

So, you slowly let go of things that reminded you that your life wasn’t the same. You stopped seeing guys, stopped meeting friends, stopped going on little dates by yourself. Your life slowly became completely and totally Sol’s possession and any semblance of your own identity melted away.

But on those lazy mornings when you aren’t quite awake yet and Yeosang hands you a mug of coffee before you even leave the bed and looks over your shoulder to make sure Sol hasn’t stirred, you could just picture him as a boyfriend you met in your college years and stayed with. You could picture that your biggest problems were that Yeosang would rather play video games than go on a date.

But you’d keep that little piece of delusions to yourself.

Because if there’s one thing that hadn’t let you down in your life, it was the safety of your own mind when you needed a moment to breathe.

“Yeosang,” You interrupted him in the middle of his long-winded explanation, “What exactly are you trying to say here?”

He gave you a pained expression, “(Y/N), he’s been making monthly payments to a columbarium.”

***

With Yeosang insisting that his friends weren’t as bad as you were expecting, you agreed to loosen the reigns a little, allowing him to invite them over while he looked after Sol. Such was the case today. While you were away, Yeosang and Sol were joined by Wooyoung and one of Sooji’s three dogs because Sol just loved animals.

They weren’t doing much, just sitting around the coffee table with pieces of paper in front of them. Sol was working on her own, drawing a house while Wooyoung and Yeosang played tic-tac-toe. When Yeosang lost the game for the fourth time, Wooyoung looked up to find him staring at the piece of paper with more concentration than necessary.

“You okay man?”

Yeosang looked up at him, realizing that he had been pointlessly scribbling the O till it was just a huge dot. He sighed, leaning back on both his hands, “Yeah, just worried about—” He stopped himself before saying your name, glancing at the girl beside him and relieved that she didn’t notice.

So far, she hadn’t begun missing you yet, too wrapped up in her drawings to even realize that you were missing from the house, and he tried hard to make sure it would stay that way, distracting her quickly whenever she began wondering where you were. He let Sol watch whatever she wanted during breakfast, spent nearly an hour messing up the kitchen while cooking chocolate chip pancakes because neither of them knew your special recipe. He even watched the same Winx Club movie with her twice in a row because apparently kids have no sense of monotony and tedium.

He was already making plans to take her to the backyard after she got sick of drawing so she could play with the 3 dogs and tire herself out, but he knew that if you weren’t back in time to put her to bed, she would throw the world’s biggest tantrum.

“You’re getting awfully involved with her.” Wooyoung brought up casually, drawing the box to start another game.

“I mean, I’m just trying to help.” He murmured, knowing just where this conversation was going but for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from pussyfooting around the topic. His best friend gave him a look, “No, you’re going way beyond ‘just’ helping at this point.”

He rolled his eyes in response though he knew what Wooyoung was accusing him of was true. He didn’t think he would end up getting this attached to little Sol and you. His mornings used to start out the way his nights ended, sleep deprived and half unconscious at his computer. Yeosang’s life was very much bound by his screen, and it was often that he would go weeks without interacting with anyone.

This was what was expected of him, when he had a job, he had to put himself into all of it and more often than not it felt like this was the only purpose in his life. Sure, his friends were so close that they were practically family, but he had no one relying on him and his existence felt very virtual and temporary. There were many times while he was trapped in between four walls when he would just think if anything in his life was worth it.

He pushed himself very hard, but he felt like he had nothing to show for it, no meaningful rewards to reap from it.

But something as small as you are smiling at him first thing after you woke up or Sol involving him in conversations as though you were a family had his stomach pooling with honey-sweet sustenance and belonging. It was crazy, he knew that. He was an outsider, looking into your perfect little family from beyond an invisible boundary. He was just here to help you get back to that perfect place and he couldn’t let himself be deluded into thinking that maybe there would be a place for him.

Even if he wanted that, it wasn’t the best for you or Sol. He was a mafia member, the very reason his mother stopped speaking to him in the first place. Even though he knew you held no bad feelings against him, Yeosang would be lying if he said that he didn’t see your hands shake from fear and anxiety whenever he spoke of this part of his life.

He sighed, drawing another hash after he lost the game for the sixth time, “Just drop it. It’s just a passing feeling, it’ll go away.”

He didn’t know what exactly he was talking about, the feeling of inexplicable love every time he looked at the little girl beside him or the desire for nothing but your happiness whenever he looked into your eyes. Sol innocently watched them playing tic-tac-toe and an idea struck her, flipping over the paper to use the blank side, and trying to draw the hash so she could join them.

She attempted to draw a straight line when her hand trembled and it came out bumpy and crooked. She erased the line and tried again only to come out with the same result. After a couple more tries, Yeosang glanced over when he heard a sniffle, startled to find her wiping tears from her eyes.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung looked up at the surprisingly soft tone, thinking he was talking to him and was even more surprised to see Yeosang quickly pull her into his lap and wrap his arms around her. He was concerned for his friend. This was the first time in years that it looked like he was actually taking care of himself.

Wooyoung knew that Yeosang wouldn’t admit it but when his mother had cut ties with him, it had hit him hard. This was the first time that he had ever seen Yeosang look so fulfilled and he wasn’t sure what worried him more, that it could be ripped very quickly from him once he was done helping you and you would walk away, or that it could be ripped even faster from him if he couldn’t help you.

“I wanted to draw what you were drawing and play with you, but I can’t do it!” She whined into his neck, and Yeosang cooed, patting her back.

“It’s okay. We can still play the game together. I like your version better anyway.” He said, patiently waiting for her to stop crying before he delicately wiped away her tears, “You want me to teach you how to play?”

When she nodded, he turned her around in his lap, still keeping an arm around her and grabbed her pencil.

***

You stared at the marble urn in the shelf with an empty expression. A small, framed picture of your sister was beside it. She was smiling brightly, taunting you with the carefree look in her eyes. The sun glimmered like gold in her hair and her skin glowed like honey.

“You selfish bitch.” You choked out, feeling like you were sinking. You tried to look at her face while saying it, but all your eyes could focus on was your pained reflection staring back at you from the glass.

And all at once it felt like you were breaking. The dam had collapsed. The seams had ripped. Your knees were far too weak to support you and you tumbled to the ground, clutching your head as you wailed into your lap.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry! I tried! I really did!” You sobbed out, not even bothering to wipe the streams of tears that were leaving your eyes. Why bother when they were quickly replaced.

“I just— Sometimes, I— I feel like—” You tried to tell her, but the words kept getting caught painfully in your throat. You couldn’t admit it to her, no matter how hard you tried. You knew she couldn’t hear you, couldn’t respond and couldn’t do much to help but still you couldn’t admit it.

Your heart felt like it was tearing itself into shreds, your stomach twisting so tightly that you could feel acid climb up your throat. You could barely breathe in between sobs, and it felt like every single cell in your body was hurting.

You had grown apart from your sister when you both had become adults, it was inevitable that you did. You weren’t teenagers that shared a room anymore, you both were now grown-ups who had to live their own lives. You got busy with your own career and your sister was the same. You would see each other at family dinners and special occasions but eventually those became few and far between.

Looking back, you couldn’t really put all the blame on her, you had missed many dinners due to work and your heart clenched in your chest at the thought that your absence might have pushed her to this person.

Regardless, she was still your sister and you loved her. And now, she was just, gone. You thought back to the last time you had seen her, she was so haggard and worn. Did she die in the same way? Tired, desperate, and alone? She had so much to live for, a daughter, your parents, and even you and it killed a part of you to know that someone you loved was now reduced to a pile of ash in an urn.

You cried for what felt like forever before leaning against the opposite shelves and staring up at her column. Your head was blank for the first time in years, and you couldn’t think of anything no matter how hard you tried to. There were things that needed your attention, like how you would break the news to your parents, how you would keep Sol safe but every time you thought of either, it would evaporate into nothing until you were just blank.

You had no more fight left to give, nothing more to provide, nothing left to give away. Whenever you cared for Sol, looked after her, loved her, you had been borrowing energy from your future elf. Somewhere, deep down, you kept hope that your sister would one day return, and you could just go back to being her aunt. But now it felt like there would never be an end and you had hit a wall.

It was sick, you knew you were, that you felt some sort of resentment towards a small, innocent little girl. She had done nothing wrong, and you knew that but sometimes whenever you looked at her, all you could see was something that was holding you down. Sometimes you thought about giving her up for adoption or handing her to her grandparents and when things got really bad you would think about packing a bag in the middle of the night and just leaving.

You loved Sol, so much but you were always trying to keep her at arm’s length and now that you couldn’t justify it anymore, the horrid, disgusting feelings of resentment, of rejection came bubbling up and you couldn’t help but feel repulsed by yourself.

“I don’t know what to do...” You whispered helplessly, looking at the picture of your sister. She was a splitting image of Sol, looking more mature and her features were more angled, but it was still her.

When it felt like you had cried it all out, you stood up once again, ready to leave. The sun was setting outside which meant it would soon be time to put Sol to bed and you’d rather do it yourself than force Yeosang to do it.

You looked at the ground as you were leaving the building, emotionlessly staring at the tiles when a pair of glossy, black shoes came into your vision. Startled, you looked up and realized you were an inch away from a broad chest. When your eyes met the man’s, your blood froze in your veins, and you took a step back.

Logan Nam smirked at you and your eyes widened in fear.

He took a step closer, and you mirrored him, putting as much difference as you could between you.

“When the reception notified me that someone was visiting my wife’s ashes, I had a hunch it would be you.” He said, taking another step toward you. Your heart was beating madly in your ears, and you swallowed thickly.

“I’ll make this simple; I want my daughter.”

Your heartrate ticked up, breath stuttering in your lungs, and you were overwhelmed by the sudden urge to just cry. You still couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, your throat constricting painfully. Immediately, you were filled with hostility. You didn’t know why; you had never met him before and had no reason to mistrust him other than your sister’s words, but you would never go against the last thing she told you before you died.

Whatever she had felt about him, whatever he had done wasn’t important, but you die before ever considering

“Not happening.” You finally replied, finding your voice.

“I wasn’t asking.” He replied coldly and before you could even blink, his hand was around your throat, and he slammed you against the wall. The wind was knocked out of you and the back of your head throbbed so hard that your vision had spots. He wasn’t even applying much pressure, but the hit was so powerful that you had trouble breathing.

He was crazy, downright psychotic. You gasped for air and thrashed around but he didn’t loosen his hold on your throat, pressing down harder until you felt your windpipe collapse from the pressure. Then the panic got real when you couldn’t take any more breaths. Your eyes filled with tears in response, and you tried prying his fingers off you, but he was too strong.

“Maybe I should kill you right now,” He murmured, more to himself than you. His gaze was steady on you, but it looked like he wasn’t seeing you, “I’ll be kind, you can have the spot next to my wife.”

You struggled in his grip, wanting to throw up from the force on your throat but he didn’t relent until you scratched your nails down his face and poked his eyes as hard as you could. The grip on your throat loosened and you took only a moment to catch your breath before running down the hall and trying to get out of the building.

His footsteps picked up behind you and your frantic eyes darted around the halls, spotting a fire extinguisher that hung off the far war and immediately sprinted towards it. He was faster than you expected and slammed you into the wall just as you reached it. The extinguisher hit you badly in the ribs and you groaned in pain but grabbed onto it with a vice-like grip.

It was too heavy for you to throw at him, regardless of how much the adrenaline pumping through your veins was pushing your body and, in a panic, you pushed down the lever and were startled when foam sprayed out of the nozzle with such a high pressure that it was enough to knock him off you. You managed to catch him off-guard, throwing him offbeat and didn’t wait for him to gain his senses before you dropped the cannister and ran.

You made at out of the building, nearly giving yourself a whiplash as you tried to spot a taxi, not stopping your sprint for even a second. You could hear him behind you but to your relief, he was farther than he was last time. Just as you were about to leave the enclosure, you heard a gunshot and shrieked, ducking away from the shards of glass that exploded from the streetlamp that he shot.

Your heart getting tired, and it was beginning to hurt from how hard it was beating against your ribcage. You were panting heavily, and a cold bead of sweat darted down the length of your back. You made out Logan’s silhouette against the blurring of tears in your eyes, recognizing the smoking gun he was pointing directly at you.

“That was a warning shot. Move and the next one won’t be.”

There was a beat of silence where you contemplated what to do. Your body flinched and you involuntarily took a step back and you saw something flash in his eyes as dread set into your bones. He was going to shoot. You ducked away, almost missing the police car that raced at you with blaring lights and a loud siren and screeched to a stop between the both of you.

“Get in!” Screamed the driver and without wasting a second, you threw open the door and jumped in. She didn’t even wait for you to close the door before she was speeding out of there and merging into the main road.

When the driver was certain that you both were far enough from the columbarium, she looked at you through the rear-view mirror, “I’m Detective Jeong Tae Eul.”

“(Y/N).” You responded, completely out of it. Your body was shaking, and you were terrified that you’d turn around to find Logan staring you down with his crazy eyes and dangerous weapon.

“I’m going to drive you to the police station, okay? We can file a police report together.” She explained with a soothing voice, but her words only caused you to panic more.

“No! We can’t file a report!” You exclaimed and her brows raised in surprise, “Why not?”

Your hands were shaking pathetically in your lap, and you had no explanation for her. If she found out that he was Sol’s biological father and you had no legal custody over her, she might end up turning the tables against you. Sensing your fear, she put the vehicle in park at a traffic light, turning around to look you in the eye.

“It’s going to be okay. Just tell me what happened, I promise nothing will leave this vehicle unless you want it to.”

So, you told Tae Eul everything. In the end, she made a promise to introduce you to one of the best lawyers she knew and promised that her friend, Cha Young, would give you a consultation pro bono and if she thought there was a case, she’d help take it to trial.

***

It was almost two thirty in the morning when you finally got back home, and your body felt so worn out that you felt like you were so close to withering away that second. You weren’t even down the hall before Yeosang intercepted you.

“Where the hell have you been! Why was your phone switched off!” He had barely started his rant, fully intending on chewing you out with how worried he was but his eyes flickered down to your neck for a second before they completely zeroed in on the bruise around your throat.

He paused and it was like you watched all the emotion die out from his face before he was glaring at you darkly. With all the terror you had been through only a few hours ago, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel afraid anymore, all your emotions and thoughts had vaporized and vanished like the wax of a candle.

He reached his hand out and you shivered as his fingers delicately grazed against the purpling bruise against your skin. You gripped onto his arm for stability, and he finally raised his eyes back to yours, unbridled fury swimming in the depths of his eyes. You could never picture Yeosang as a mafia member, not when he was failing in all his attempts to braid Sol’s hair or when he happily munched down the breakfast you made him, but in this instance, you could understand how he managed to fare for so long in this world.

He looked downright terrifying, and you would’ve been shaking in your boots if you didn’t know that he was angry for you, not at you.

“Who did this to you?”

Fuck. He couldn’t look at you like that and say things like that and expect you not to melt into a puddle of absolute mush. You sighed shakily, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and the absolute state of euphoria and warmth that was rushing through you that you were finally home and safe with Yeosang.

“I ran into Logan.” You explained, trailing off when his eyes widened, and it seemed like you had just lit a fire inside him.

“That bitch!” He seethed and the veins in his neck popped out but even then, the tender touch of his fingers on your neck never got even a fraction more abrasive or forceful. A rush of things passed on his face, mostly rage but then it finally washed away, and he was the kind, domestic Yeosang you had always known.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head silently and he released a shaky breath before pulling you in for a hug. He gently caressed your hair, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle and inhaling the smell of home. The material of his sweater was bunched tightly in your fist, pulling yourself so close to his body that you could be considered as one.

“You’re safe now.” He whispered, holding you and even though you didn’t believe him, you nodded and then breathed in deeply.

After a few minutes, you spoke up, not bothering to move your head and Yeosang shivered when he felt your lips brush against the skin of his neck, “Where’s Sol?”

“I put her to bed hours ago. She went down no problem.” He responded in perfect sync, and you sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” You whispered, kissing whatever piece of skin you could reach in gratitude and even though you thought he would flinch or freeze, he said nothing and rocked you back and forth like a pendulum, “For everything.”

***

You stared at Sol’s sleeping form, the moonlight peeking through the curtains being enough for you to recognize her features that you had memorized. This precious, little girl was your everything. She was your mornings and your nights, and she was completely worth all the hard work and the burdens you had to go through.

You loved her so much and she wouldn’t ever know the surface of the struggles you went through trying to raise her, but you would continue to do so.

You were trying so hard to deflect the burden from yourself, claiming that Sol wasn’t your responsibility, since she was your sister’s child but if you won full custody over her, she would forever be yours. You had always tried to run away from fully accepting her because you were scared, terrified even to the changes it would bring to your life.

But in the silence of the night, you looked at the sweet girl and realized just how much you had changed without realizing. Mornings would begin with a kiss on the cheek in greeting the same way the day would end. With Sol, even things as little as cooking or bath-time could turn into a fun activity and you remembered just how many times you could feel full just from looking at her.

Yes, you didn’t have anyone to depend on and yes, it was difficult. My goodness, it was so difficult. But you couldn’t say goodbye to the good moments, no matter how strenuous the bad ones were. You had seen her first steps, her first words and had been there for every milestone that she had been through.

You weren’t her mother, but she was your child. In every sense, in every thought, in every language, in every moment. She was yours.

Suddenly overwhelmed with so much emotion that you felt tears prick at your eyes, you leaned over to brush a few hairs out of her face before kissing her cheek, “I love you so much.”

The door clicked open, and you glanced over to see Yeosang pad in with a cup of tea. Smiling lightly, you shifted over on the bed and gave him room to sit beside you. Now with a steaming cup of tea in your hands, you were able to soothe your throat that was throbbing and scratchy from the amount of crying you had done through the day.

He was right, he made tea way better than you did.

“She’s cute, right?” He whispered and you chuckled before nodding.

“She gets it from you.”

***

You glanced between the 7 men apprehensively, watching as they awkwardly lingered around the doorway. Aside from Yeosang, of course, who made himself at home on the couch immediately, grabbing the bowl of popcorn that Sol had been hogging.

“Um, I thought you said you had a guy’s night?” You asked, biting your lip. Yeosang had informed you about their night a couple days ago and you thought it was a great idea. After filing the lawsuit for custody against Logan, any attempts of abduction had stopped as well since it could reflect badly in the legal fight. Since then, you had returned to work and Sol had been going back to kindergarten even though Yeosang’s mom had strict instructions to call him first and not you in an emergency.

You were worried that you were beginning to rely on Yeosang a little too much and though you were still living together on Ateez’s homebase, you thought he deserved the much-needed break and some time to blow off steam with his friends. You were more than prepared for him to come home absolutely wasted. You had even courteously decided to sleep on the couch so he could have his own bed back for a night.

Yunho blushed, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to you. When you unfolded the paper, your cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

‘Dear tall oppa, I am keeping a movy nite on Sunday nite! It’s at 7 pm so don’t be late!’

There were way too many stickers around the sides of the paper and a few of the letters were in the wrong direction. You could clearly tell that there was a lot of thought put into this, considering that the stickers were off a giraffe and a smiling puppy, which you were sure that she associated Yunho with. You ran a hand over your face, trying to hide your embarrassment and face that had darkened with a blush but doing an awful job.

“I’m sorry you guys, you don’t need to attend, you already made plans. I’m sure Sol will understand.” You said, feeling ashamed that they were guilted into attending because Sol had a cute face.

Sol, having heard what you said, immediately began protesting and climbed into Yeosang’s lap and wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He was quick to move the bowl of popcorn away, nearly missing Sol’s foot to his crotch and cradled her so that she was sitting more comfortably.

“No! I wanna have a movie night with everyone.”

You sighed, feeling your neck heat up, “Sol, please, they all have plans.”

She whined, wrapping her arms around Yeosang tighter, and burying her little face in his neck.

The others smiled kindly at you, and you felt grateful albeit still quite embarrassed, “It’s okay (Y/N), we don’t mind.”

They all began shuffling in the door and you realized they each brought their own movie snacks and before no time they were all crowded around the TV. Delighted that everyone was there to join her, she beamed at Yeosang, practically shaking with joy in his lap and he gave her a fond smile, glancing at you and patting the empty spot beside him.

“So, what movie are we watching?”

“Winx Club!”

Everyone groaned.

“(Y/N) if I have to watch this movie again, I’m going to shoot myself.”

***

You couldn’t remember the last time you had let loose this way. When you got home after winning the custody case, you were immediately handed a drink that Wooyoung called his ‘Magic Potion’. A few magic potions later, you were giggling madly into Yeosang’s neck.

Thankfully, Seonghwa was looking after Sol for the rest of the evening, so he was able to give you his undivided attention just as the fourth drink began to hit you. You had already played hide-and-seek and even hidden many things like Chayoung’s briefcase and Wooyoung’s Apple watch.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough drinks.” Yeosang said, grabbing the glass that Wooyoung was holding out to you and immediately you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck, and releasing a pathetic whine.

“Nooo, I want to drink some moreeee.”

He could smell the alcohol on your breath, and you could barely take a step without stumbling. With a steady arm around your waist, he guided you away from Wooyoung who began chanting that he was no fun since he became a dad (Yeosang promptly ignored that part, even though his neck was getting uncomfortably hot). While he did want a drink too, he really thought that only one of you should be hungover the next day.

“You can have a glass of water.”

“But I don’t want water!” You exclaimed, stomping your foot and he sighed, mentally comparing you to Sol when she threw a tantrum but you were still easy to manoeuvre toward the bedroom so he could put you to bed before you ended up passing out.

Your energy level plummeted the farther you walked and by the time you both entered your room, your head was lolling, and you were breathing deeply as though asleep standing upright.

“Did I ever tell you how much you mean to me?” He heard you ask quietly and froze in his steps. You turned to look at him with a sober gaze that startled him. You looked so damn serious about it, like you were genuinely asking him rather than just going off on some drunk tangent.

You gave him a wobbly smile, “I’m sorry that I’ve been relying on you so much lately. It feels really one-sided, and I’m actually terrified that you’ll think of me as a burden.”

He didn’t know what to do. You were definitely drunk, and it was most likely the reason you were suddenly bearing your heart to him but with each word that came out of your mouth, another nerve began buzzing with electricity.

“Maybe if everything was normal, I could just ask you out like I want to, but I don’t have the balls because I’m worried it will ruin everything.” You laughed at yourself, running a hand down your face and his stomach hollowed out, hundreds of flurries of butterflies flapping incessantly so far up his throat that it felt he couldn’t breathe. You wanted to ask him out?

“And isn’t it so funny that I can only tell you how I feel when I’m drunk out of my mind?” You laughed out but your voice was tight. He knew you were scared but your inhibition was hindered, he knew that.

“Because I know you’ll pretend like it never happened the next day if you don’t feel the same. Because I wasn’t in the right state of mind. Hah, even when I’m telling you that I love you, I’m selfish. I’m so pathetic.” You laughed brokenly and his heart tightened in his chest.

Yeosang stared at you with widened eyes, watching the way your eyes glimmered and the slight tint to your cheeks from drinking too much.

“W-What?”

You giggled at his startled face and took a clumsy but deliberate step toward him before raising a hand to cup his cheek, “I’m in love with you. And it’s not only because you’re the only one who supports me. It’s because you’re funny, and you’re nice but in a funny, backhanded way, and you care about me like I care about you, and sometimes when I look at you, I feel complete. Like how I feel when I look at Sol. I’m very happy when I’m with you.”

The way you were looking at him. The things you were saying too him. It was all too much. Too much for his frail little heart to handle. Yeosang was undoubtedly the least emotional one from Ateez, it was easy for him to emotionally disconnect. In his line of work, it was important for him not to get extremely sensitive toward something.

But the way you were touching him, like he was a tender flower instead of the burdened steel he has always been made his heart race in his chest. It had been way too long since he had felt so adored and had been even longer since he had adored someone as much as he did you.

Too dazed from your confession, he didn’t quite react when you leaned in to capture his lips in a soft kiss before pulling away. You looked at him with a steady gaze, “I’m in love with you.”

You kissed him again and this time he returned it. His arms coiled around your waist, holding your hips firmly and you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him eagerly. Yeosang sighed against your mouth, his heart getting bigger with each second that your lips touched his. You were sweet, so sweet that he felt dizzy but wanted to taste more of you.

He gently teased his tongue against yours until you were short of breath, and you raked your fingers through his fluffy hair just as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth.

The two of you stumbled back in a daze, not breaking the kiss until the back of your knees collided with the bed and you tumbled to the mattress, pulling him down with you. His reflexes worked quickly, keeping himself from crushing you with his arms framing your body as he continued to graze his tongue against yours.

The lingering taste of alcohol on your tongue reminded Yeosang that you were still drunk, and he pulled away with a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t let anything happen if you weren’t in the right state of mind.

“Sang—” You whimpered, trying to pull him back to you by wrapping your legs around his waist and his resolved weakened just a bit when he felt his stomach drop with need and his neck get hot, but he gave you one last kiss before he pulled away just enough to kiss your forehead.

“You’re drunk.” He replied, expecting that to be enough of an explanation but your head was still spinning from the heavenly kiss and all you wanted was to be close to him. He tried to move off you, but you panicked and grabbed his shirt before pulling him closer.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, distressed. He kissed your temple before pressing another one to your cheek, pulling away again so he could look you in the eye.

“I won’t. I’ll be right here.”

“I’m sorry.” You apologized and neither of you were sure for what, but he silenced any fears you might have, pulling you in for a hug before he lowered your head onto a pillow and pulled the duvet up to cover you.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Just get some rest, I’ll be here in the morning.”

It was dark, but he could still see your features despite it. Yeosang briefly wondered if it was because he spent every waking moment thinking of you. Of your bright eyes, of your glowing skin, of your gorgeous hair, of your sweet lips.

Now that he had finally gotten a taste of them, a taste of you, he couldn’t begin to dream of letting you go. He just couldn’t. A part of him churned with uncertainty, fear, and insecurity. Did you really mean what you said? Or was it the liquor talking? While he wondered about that, he tried pushing down those horrible, intrusive thoughts that would trouble him whenever he had something good.

Those awful thoughts that would remind him that it wouldn’t be too long until he ruined it.

You were so beautiful, so pure, how could he even think of tainting you with his own colours? It killed him to think that if he pursued something with you, it would only end badly. You and Sol had become such a big part of his life, would he be able to survive without you?

Those thoughts that he struggled to push away no matter how hard he tried reminded him that he wasn’t asking the right question.

Would he be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to you?

***

It was well into the day when you were rudely awakened by the insistent sun. Your head was throbbing lightly from how hard you fell asleep, but you didn’t feel too hungover. Sighing and groaning, you finally found the willpower to sit up straight and when you glanced at the nightstand you couldn’t help but chuckle at the ‘Feel better auntie!’ written on a post-it note with a heart drawn beside it. Yeosang must have told her you weren’t feeling well when you didn’t wake up to drop her off at kindergarten.

After brushing your teeth, you returned to the bedroom even drowsier than you were when you first woke up and considered pulling up the covers and falling asleep again when the door clicked open and Yeosang poked his head through.

And in that instant, everything from last night came flooding back to you. Suddenly, it felt like every nerve ending sparked alive, rushing through your body like a wildfire as images flashed behind your eyes faster than you could process. Your lips tingled with the memory of the kiss, and you felt shocks crawl up your waist where his hands were.

You could only faintly remember the feeling of his hard body pressed against yours and immediately you were filled with immense longing to feel it again. God, it had barely been 20 minutes since you had woken up and you were already craving for him like a hormonal teenager.

It was hardly your fault though, how were you meant to concentrate when he was wearing a tank top that revealed his distracting arms and with the neck cut low enough to see his chest? Honestly, he was too attractive for his own good.

A steady heat climbed up to your cheeks when you realized you had been staring at him for a good minute and you pursed your lips, trying to kill the sparks that began to sting.

“Hi.”

He smiled gently, handing you a bottle of water along with an aspirin and you took it without qualms, “How are you feeling?”

“Not too terrible, that heavy dinner really helped.” You replied, patting your stomach and he scoffed, “You’re welcome.”

It was silent again and even though you could simply pretend like last night hadn’t happened to make the atmosphere bearable, you felt the need to set things straight with him.

“About last night, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.” You told him, staring at the bottle in your hands and playing with the wrapper.

“I half expected you to have completely forgotten about last night.” He admitted and you almost laughed. The kiss had been everything except forgettable. It was the type of kiss you’d think about even in a couple years and still feel something.

“I didn’t drink that much.” You replied, trying to bring a little mirth in your voice and he chuckled before nodding, “Yeah, but my luck usually turns out to be like that.”

There was another beat of quiet, an awkward tango where you weren’t sure who should speak first but eventually you opened your mouth again, “We can forget about it if you want, I really don’t want things to get awkward between us.”

He remembered the words you told him last night, how you confessed that you were terrified that you’d be a burden to him. He felt the same way. You both had such important things in your life right now that another priority might feel burdensome, he could understand if you felt that way about him.

But Yeosang never thought of you as a burden, more like a rewarding anchor to the world when he felt like he might be sinking down too far.

The silence was beginning to get awkward, and you shifted in the bed, tempted to take another sip of water, “It’s really not a big deal, Sang. We can just forget about the whole thing—”

“Are you drunk right now?”

You paused.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you drunk right now?” He repeated, just as plain as the last time and your brows pinched together, trying to figure out just what angle he was playing.

“……No?”

“Good.” He said, leaning in so he could cup both your cheeks in his hands, and you stared at him wide-eyed, “Because I sure as hell want you to remember this.”

And then he was kissing you like he had roamed the desert, and you were a glass of cold water. He kissed you like a fresh rain shower after a year of drought. He kissed you like every song you had ever heard and every book you had ever read.

Kissing Yeosang was all too much and at the same time not enough. You felt his tender lips against yours and the air in your lungs managed to disappear in a quick second, but you didn’t falter for a moment, tightly wrapping your arms around his shoulders just as his hands slid down to your lower back.

Your breathing stuttered as his tongue gently traced your mouth and your stomach lurched with such undeniable need that you felt your head get foggy. It hurt, it physically hurt from how much you needed to be close to him at the moment. So much that your body trembled with pent-up energy.

With a hand to the back of your head, he lowered you down to the plush pillows, not wanting to part from you for even a second. Everything was getting fuzzy in the best way possible and when Yeosang broke the kiss for a moment to pull his shirt off, it felt like something in you just snapped.

To say he was startled when you suddenly wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled on top of him was an understatement, but he didn’t even get to say anything before you were kissing your way down his neck, nipping, and licking at every spot you could.

He squirmed underneath you, now very aware how close your heat was to his dick and moaned shakily when you sucked at his pulse point.

His hands ran down your back and grabbed your ass, “W-Wait, I want you to have fun too.”

You raised your head from his neck, smirking at the light marks that began to form, “Who said I wasn’t having fun?”

You were both surprised at the loud moan that left his mouth when your teeth sank into the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Soothing the mark with your tongue, you moved a little lower, kissing down his pecs. Even though you were nowhere near finished, you let him guide you back into another kiss.

He flipped the two of you over, giving you a smirk that had butterflies erupting up your throat and hiked your shirt up his wrists, delighted to find that you hadn’t put on a bra yet.

“My turn.”

Breathy moans left your mouth as he teased your breasts with nimble fingers while his talented mouth left pretty red marks along them. One of his hands pressed against your back, arching your chest into his mouth while the other left featherlight touches along your stomach on its way to the waistband of your pants.

Tufts of his hear peeked from between your fingers as you gently tugged and he groaned, reaching to kiss you again when he began tugging your pants and panties down the length of your legs. You helped him throw them off you and shivered in excitement when he grazed your inner thighs.

You were sure there would be more times for him to be rough and for you both to be captured in moments of intense passion but for now you both were taking it slow which had your heart beating in your chest so hard from anticipation that he could hear it.

You let out a content sigh when the tips of his fingers caressed your lower lips. Yeosang was occupied with sucking on your tongue when his thumb began rubbing slow circles against your clit. You gasped, throwing your head back against the pillows and mewling.

He chuckled, “Feeling good?”

“So good.” You whined, brows furrowing together when a finger poked at your entrance. Your thighs would have clamped tightly around his wrist if he wasn’t holding them open.

“How many do you think you can handle?” He asked you and even though your eyelids felt like they were magnetically shut, you wrenched them open to see his soft smile at your confused expression.

“Fingers?”

He huffed out a laugh, “No, orgasms. Don’t wanna overstimulate you if you aren’t ready.”

You inhaled sharply when he shallowly thrust two fingers into you, gripping his biceps tightly, “To be honest, I don’t think I can take more than one today.”

The smirk on his face turned a little dark and he felt your pussy clench around his fingers, “I can do that.”

He swallowed your loud moans with a deep kiss and moved his fingers quickly, alternating between thrusting into your dripping hole with a breaking pace and rubbing his wet fingers against your clit. The knot in your stomach wound tighter and tighter with each flick and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge.

You were so close you could practically taste it, squirming in his grip as you inched closer to ecstasy when he stopped his movements.

Yeosang pulled away from the kiss specifically to hear you groan while he peppered kisses against your neck, “Why’d you stop?”

He licked at the hollow of your collarbone, “You said you’d only be able to handle one. Gotta pace yourself, baby. I’ll make you cum.”

“But I was so close.” You whined, the end of your sentence coming out as a moan when he moved spread his fingers slightly, feeling your plush walls push back against them.

He kissed the spot between your brows, making you aware of your scrunched up face and you relaxed, “I know but you’ve only given me one chance to rock your world and I’m not letting you cum anywhere but my cock.”

A hot blush crept up your face at his frank words and you stared up at the ceiling in embarrassment.

He laughed, and sped up the pace of his fingers slightly, “You’re naked in my bed and you’re feeling shy from my words?”

You hid your face, “Now I’m feeling embarrassed about both.”

His nose nuzzled your cheek lightly, thumbing your clit until you were close again and then abruptly pulled his fingers away from your heat while you whined in disappointment. When you peeked at him between your fingers, he popped the soaked digits in his mouth, growling at the taste of you.

“Fuck, can I eat you out?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “If you plan on making me cum.”

He shrugged, “Next time then.”

You felt the weight of his body disappear while he pulled off his pants before he crawled back over you, using one of his arms to hold his weight while he reached in his nightstand to pull out a condom.

You raised a brow at the silver packet, wondering just why he had a supply of condoms in a place that wasn’t even his, “How many girls have you brought here?”

“It was a gag gift from Wooyoung. Who’s laughing now?” He muttered in an explanation, hissing as the rolled the rubber on. You giggled when he leaned over you with a wide smile, pecking your cheeks quickly and you cupped his face this time before bringing him in for a sweet kiss.

“Ready?” He whispered against your lips, and you nodded, gently playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck. You panted against each other’s mouths when he finally pushed in, groaning in unison.

The way he stretched you open when he buried himself deep inside you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned his name wantonly. The deep groans he was letting out reverberated through his chest and you could feel the feeble vibrations against your own chest pressed to his.

Yeosang felt dizzy at the sound of your sweet moans, at the feeling of your nails scratching lightly at his scalp, at your perfect body and your perfect curves pressed against him. Suddenly overwhelmed with so much stimulation, he shakily exhaled into your neck, pausing for a moment before he began moving his hips and by reflex, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, sending his head spinning even more.

He rocked against you steadily, quickly licking away the bead of sweat that rolled down your neck and you whined at the pleasure, gasping when snapped his hips with more power. Eager from the long wait, he began relentlessly thrusting into you, groaning loudly at your pussy clenching around him at random beats.

You swore you saw stars attached to the white ceiling when the head of his cock brushed up against that one spot and you released a high-pitched moan, “Fuck right there, please.”

He pulled away from you for just a second to readjust the position of your legs before he continued pounding into you and it felt like your soul had left your body for a second when he hit that spot perfectly each time and you were sent hurtling over the edge, cumming with a loud moan.

He finished soon after, keeping his pace until you both came down from your highs, kissing you sweetly. He didn’t pull out just yet, waiting until you both had caught your breath before he did.

You automatically curled into his side when he lied down beside you, placing your head on his chest and his arm wound around your waist. You didn’t speak for a while, didn’t sleep, didn’t move, just stayed there, pressed against each other, and basking in the afterglow.

“Are you sure you want this?” Yeosang finally asked and you raised your head with a confused pout, “Kind of late to ask that question, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes, “Not that, I meant me. Are you sure you want a relationship with me?”

“What do you mean?”

You tilted your head in the most adorable way that his heart began racing again. His mind willed him to be just silent, to just enjoy the sight of the gorgeous, naked girl in his arms but he spoke once again, “I’m part of the mafia, (Y/N). And you’re part of the tax-paying, righteous, beautiful public. Are you sure you want that?”

You paused and it felt like time had stopped for a year for Yeosang. He made up his mind then. Whatever be your answer, he would accept it, no follow-up questions, no attempt to convince you and he swore that he wouldn’t make you feel bad for it. Afterall, you both had made your choices about the kind of life you want to lead.

He was determined not to make you feel guilty for rejecting him. Afterall, you were just trying to do what was best for your family.

But then you smiled at him, kissing the corner of his lips, “I used to think that everything was black and white, but you’ve showed me differently. And I want this with you, I really do love you, Sang.”

His heart squeezed in his chest, all the questions he wanted to ask you disappeared like weightless clouds in the sky and he pressed his lips to yours, “I love you, too.”

You sighed happily, gently tracing figures onto his bare chest while his fingers drummed a random pattern on your hips, “I wish we could just stay here forever.”

He spared a glance at the clock and groaned internally, “We have to leave to pick up Sol in like an hour.”

You abruptly sat up, holding the covers to your chest, and stared at him with wide eyes, “We have to change the sheets!”

With a mischievous grin, he scooped you up in his arms and ran to the bathroom while you let out a startled laugh, “Shower first!”

***

As soon as you stepped outside the car to pick up Sol, you had realized that something had gone incredibly wrong. You stopped Yeosang before he could take another step, turning to him with a panicked gaze, “Call the others.”

“What? Why?” He questioned but still pulled out his phone without missing a beat and sent an alert to the others.

“Hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.”

It was then that he realized what you were saying. It was absolutely silent, no sound of the excited children chattering with their friends, or of the teachers fondly saying their goodbyes to the students, no honking from the cars of the other parents as they tried to find a parking spot.

You shared a wide-eyed gaze before sprinting to the door. Yeosang pulled out his gun, signalling you to keep quiet before you both entered the building and you nodded, breathing in deeply as you both stepped past the door away as silently as you could.

You stayed behind him as he crept towards Sol’s classroom and just as his hand inched toward the handle, the door slammed open and there stood Mrs. Kang, staring at you with a pained smile. Yeosang started, straightening up when he realized he was still pointing the weapon at her.

“Mom? What are you doing? Where is everyone? Where’s Sol?”

She smiled nervously and you could see her body shake, “I sent them all home early.”

Your brows furrowed, “What? Why? Where’s Sol?”

She stepped aside and if your body hadn’t frozen with horror, you would have screamed.

Logan Nam sat sinisterly in Mrs. Kang’s seat like a throne and perched in his lap was Sol, face stricken with tears and duct tape plastered to her mouth. Your eyes immediately glossed over, and you swallowed painfully at the sight of her terrified face and the knife that he held to her throat.

Yeosang stepped in front of you protectively, aiming the gun at Logan. His hands were clenched so hard around the Glock that you could see them shake with absolute fury. It looked like he could light this whole place on fire with a single glare and if looks could kill, Logan Nam would have been mutilated right before your very eyes, “Let. Her. Go.”

He laughed, “Why should I? She’s my daughter. I have the right to do this.”

There it was, that beat of helplessness masked with fear that you felt when you saw his arm tighten around Sol and a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks, cries muffled by the tape.

You clutched your hands tightly at your sides, biting your tongue to keep yourself from crying at the sight of her weeping in terror.

“This is why you should have given her to me when I asked you so nicely.” He said, stroking her hair and you almost scoffed at that. He hadn’t asked, he had demanded, and when you refused, he almost choked you to death.

“She deserves this, you know.” He said nonchalantly but you knew of his psychotic tone. It was the same tone he used when he threatened to kill you and your body shook with emotions you couldn’t explain, “She took her away from me.”

You clenched your jaw so tightly you could swear that you felt a tooth crack.

“We used to be in love, she was my soulmate. But then this bitch was conceived.” He said with such sick hatred and Yeosang bristled at him cussing at Sol, “And little by little she loved me less, her attention was taken from me. Suddenly it was all ‘the baby this’ ‘our baby that’, she took her away from me, she deserves this.”

“You’re sick!” You spat, eyes burning with fury and your nails dug so hard into your palms that it hurt.

His eyes widened and he laughed, in a crazed, manic way that had your heart stuttering in fear. You needed Sol out of there, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice, “I just wanted to love your sister, my wife. We loved each other more than anybody else but then she changed. She began loving ‘this’ instead. She took back her words to only love me, so I made sure she wouldn’t make any more mistakes. I killed her, so that she couldn’t love me less.”

You had never felt more wrath than you had now. Your body was trembling with anger and your hands itched to wring his neck, but you stayed in place, extremely aware of the knife that he held loosely. Yeosang didn’t have a clear shot at him, he feared that any move he made could hurt Sol, so he kept his finger on the trigger, hoping for a miracle.

“I’m going to get my revenge.”

There was a moment of static silence where neither man made a move, but you pounced quickly.

You grabbed Yeosang’s wrist and pointed the gun at the ceiling above him, shooting at the light and a loud bang echoed through the halls. Logan was startled just enough for his grip on the knife to loosen as the ceiling tiles nearly crushed him and Sol.

Sol rushed out of his lap, running toward you and you saw her kidnapper attempt to grab her again, but you ran and slammed into him. The knife clattered to the ground and the both of you collided with the wall. You yelped when he grabbed a chunk of your hair and slammed your head against the corner of the desk. You groaned in pain, trying to kick him off you but he would not budge.

“(Y/N)!”

“Sol first!” You shouted back and he wasted no time in complaining, scooping up the wailing child in his arms and wrapping an arm around his mother, taking them out of the building.

The man in front of you attempted to follow them but you stood up once again, ignoring the spots in your vision and jumping at him. Once again you both crashed into the wall, ricocheting against multiple surfaces like pinballs while he tried to rip you off him. The breath was knocked out of you as he violently slammed your back against the chalkboard, but you didn’t relent.

He used his strength to pry your arm off him, twisting it so painfully that you felt something pop and you screamed in pain, tumbling to the ground. He turned to face you with an expression that you would continue to see in your nightmares for the rest of your life and you backed away in fear.

“I should’ve snapped your fucking neck when I had the chance.” He whispered darkly and your hands tried to search for something, anything and your palm grazed against the handle of the knife he dropped earlier.

Your hand wrapped tightly around the blade and your resolution hardened like cold metal. The next few seconds passed by in slow motion. Logan charged for you, but his hands did not get the chance to touch you.

Blood splattered on your face and clothes.

You had slit his throat open.

***

When you arrived at the hospital where Mrs. Kang had taken Sol, you were frantic to see your baby girl. You had wiped as much blood as you could on the car ride there while you filled in the rest of Ateez on what had happened. They were filled with a newfound respect as well as pity for you when they found out what you had done.

You and Yeosang rushed to one of the cots in the emergency room, having heard Sol’s loud and panicked cries as soon as you entered, and your eyes were flooded with tears at the mere sound. You ripped open the curtain and bundled her up in your arms along with the blanket she had wrapped around herself.

Sol wailed and screamed into your chest while you wept in utter relief and despair that she had been through this. The waves of fear were still passing through the both of you and even though you wanted to pull yourself together for her sake, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying along with her. Just as you had the night you first met her.

Strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and your head rested against Yeosang’s neck. He pulled Sol to his chest, cradling her tightly against his body, closing his eyes and thanking whatever god that had been listening. If the knife hadn’t been there when you needed it, if Logan had been faster, if he hadn’t waited for the both of you to come before killing Sol; those were thoughts he didn’t even want to venture.

Instead, he screwed his eyes shut and raked a gentle hand through your hair as your cries died down. Eventually, the both of you began to soothe Sol, holding her in between the both of you so she could finally feel safety now that she was back in your arms.

Mrs. Kang glanced at the small family on the hospital bed. She watched the way her son tenderly pressed his forehead to yours before kissing you lightly and the way you held onto him for dear life. And then she glimpsed at the frail, little girl sandwiched between the both of you. Her tiny fingers were clutching onto both her parents’ hands tightly while she cried.

She watched her son who she had only then realized had grown up so much as he pulled his little family into a tight hug before she slid the curtains shut, giving you the privacy that you deserved.

***

1 year later

Family vacations used to be small outings that you could afford to take along with Sol. You didn’t need to keep track of much since you only had a small girl to take, and she was usually satisfied with simply going to the fair or even the beach.

But since revealing her existence to your parents, you had made many trips to the countryside, so they had time to meet and play with Sol. She was ecstatic that she had grandparents who lived on a farm, always going with her grandfather to pick fruit and vegetables or with her grandmother to look at the animals.

You had taken Yeosang along with you this time to spend the weekend along with your parents. He had mentioned it to his mother without thinking much of it and she had immediately called you to see if she and her husband could join as well.

And before you knew it, you were having a big family vacation at your parents’ house. It hadn’t been this full since you were a child and a part of you was overjoyed to have that lively environment and energy.

You were curled up on the patio couch beside Yeosang, both of you keeping a close eye on the little girl who was currently coddling a baby cow. The atmosphere was relaxed, your mother was baking a fresh pie and your father was crocheting a beanie for his darling granddaughter. Mr. and Mrs. Kang were also content in their own seats, smiling at the sight of Sol giggling when the calf licked her hand.

“Are you two planning on getting married soon?” Asked Mrs. Kang and you laughed at the immediate groan that left Yeosang’s lips, hiding your giggling face in the crook of his neck. The topic had actually come up after a family dinner when Sol had proclaimed that when she grows up, she wanted to marry him. You had never seen Yeosang more embarrassed in his life.

You both had agreed that you would want to get married sometime but there wasn’t any rush. Afterall, you lived together, raised a child together and spent every waking moment in each other’s company. It wasn’t like much was missing from your life.

“Mom…” Your boyfriend groaned, tilting his head back and missing the way you stared up at him in adoration, but his mother certainly noticed the sparkling stars in your eyes as you looked at her son.

“What? I want more grandbabies.” She defended, watching as Sol began running back to all of you, satisfied with the amount of animal cuddles she had gotten. She climbed into her teacher’s lap, happily telling her all about the cows and wrapping her arms around her neck.

“Sol-ah, don’t you think your auntie and uncle should get married?” Mrs. Kang asked and you almost burst into laughter when she turned to you with a betrayed look on her face.

“B-But I wanted to marry him!”

cyberpunk-hitman vibes 👌🏻

min yoongi is the best shot in the business. you’re the best gunsmith in the city and the only person he trusts to programme his tech; to make his gear. 

he likes your work. it’s a shame, then, that he doesn’t like you.

pairing: yoongi x f!reader / word count: 14.3k / genre + rating: NSFW (18+), cyberpunk!au, smut, frenemies (?) to lovers

warnings/etc: hitman!yoongi. black market dealer/gunsmith!reader. cursing/explicit language. whole lotta tension, sexual and otherwise. mentions of injury/violence. minor character death (no one important, don’t worry, this isn’t an angst fic). brief hurt/comfort. reader has tattoos. sexually explicit content. oral; fingering; multiple orgasms; overstimulation (f). unprotected sex (please take the necessary precautions irl). rough sex?. choking. creampie. brief mention of aftercare. I think that’s everything but please lmk if I missed any!

a/n: thank you SO MUCH to both @hobi-gif​ and @morndas​ for beta reading this and being so supportive, ily both so much and I owe you my life 🤧💕 as always what was meant to be a short fic turned into a huge one. also this is technically for my 1.1k milestone but it’s a billion years late, oops!​

Yoongi really doesn’t like you.

You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You needle him all the time, dig your fingernails in and squeeze, revelling in the way he sets his jaw, the muted spark of irritation in his eyes. You bat your eyelashes and tilt your head, throw it back whenever you laugh and reveal the easing column of your throat, dragging each interaction out with a kind of sadistic pleasure that has him gritting his teeth. Because you love annoying him, getting under his skin, tapping your fingers against the soft swell of your bottom lip as you eye him up, taking your time before you speak.

Infuriating. You’re infuriating and you know it.

It’s unfortunate, really, because you’re unavoidable. 

Jungkook had asked, once, why Yoongi doesn’t just go elsewhere. They’re more than familiar with the underbelly of this heaving city, underneath all the neon lights and shimmering holograms and towering skyscrapers and legal tech; the scuttling seams of back alley traders and illegal goods, tech or otherwise. There are plenty of black market dealers, after all, plenty of other vendors he could go to to get the equipment he wants. Plenty of other skilled crafters, artificers, artisans, people who would be more than happy to create the things that Yoongi asks for, that he needs. People who can get their hands on anything you want. For a price.

Yoongi’s answer had been short and succinct.

“She’s the best there is,” he’d said, and that had been that.

Keep reading

✨more than duty indeed; it’s a bittersweet love of reassurance✨

Not just a duty

pairing: bodyguard! hyuck x reader

genre: angst, hurt comfort, eventual fluff ig?, slight mafia! AU (its just mentioned that the family is part of the mafia idk)

warnings: bruises, mentions of fights?

word count: 878 words

a/n: i got this idea while playing genshin???? what the fuck?????

networks: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kokonomi @twozeronet

Donghyuck presses your cheek lightly with the ice pack in his hand, a small disappointed from painting his face at all the purple and blue bruises that paint your own. You know he's upset at you, he always is when you do things like this.

"You shouldn't have done that."

You sigh at the first complaint he mutters bitterly, glancing down to stare at your swinging bare feet, you had thrown your shoes somewhere after you left the dinner party.

That goddamned boring dinner party. Why couldn't your father stop being all business and mafia and just listen to you for once?

"...I know."

It was your fault the fight had started, after all. You knew there were so many men going out for your family, and yet you managed to come across one, and even worse, you fought him instead of fleeing.

Fortunately, Donghyuck had taught you some basic self defense skills, and even some combat, so you could take the man. But when he called for reinforcements, that's where you got in trouble. You weren't even in your right gear, just running off in your fancy attire.

And even more fortunate, Donghyuck came just in time to save you. The menacing look in his eyes as he took each of the men scared you every time, no matter how many times you've seen it.

Sometimes, when you find the look in your eyes you think he doesn't want to protect you, and that he's just doing it so your father doesn't kill him off when he fails and gets you killed.

But, that's not too likely, you've bonded the past few months. Though, they do say to keep your enemies close.

The whole walk back to your house, and even to your bathroom, no words were shared, not even eye contact. You only glanced at him from time to time, and the only time you locked eyes was when you finally let him clean you up after a small banter.

"Miss Y/n-"

"Don't call me that."

Your once vulnerable and guilty tone was gone, hurt laced in it as you spat out your words.

You hated it when he called you that.

It's like all the nights of bonding, all the secret sleepovers, comfortable conversations and even nights of comforting each other were nonexistent. You hated it so much.

"Does it hurt anywhere else, miss Y/n?" Donghyuck says in a much firmer tone, staring into your eyes with a certain hardness in them, harsh. You sigh with a (not so) subtle glare at him, shaking your head.

He nods, saying no more words, and simply tending to your few cuts on your chin. Moments of silence in the spacious bathroom, occasional cheers and sounds of chatting and glass clinking together resonating from outside the door.

No thoughts were shared, not even looks, but there's a certain atmosphere that says everything.

I want to fight my enemies.

That is my job. Not yours.

"Why did you do it?"

For the first time in minutes, words cut through the thick atmosphere and echo in the bathroom, and your eyes even lock. This time, he has a much softer look, tenderly and genuinely curious of why you did what you did.

Your eyes fail to keep up with his, growing shy and falling to the small constellation of beauty marks on his cheeks. His sunkissed skin is beautiful, it always breaks you when you see them red and blue because of you. "I want to fight for myself."

"You know you can't-"

"But I want to! They're my own fights, Haech-"

"Don't call me that!"

"Don't call me 'miss Y/n'!"

Your eyes finally lock with his, and instead of cowering from his intense gaze, you stare back with burning eyes as well. You can see the way he grinds his teeth together and try not to lash out on you, but really, you really really want him to.

"They're my fights, Hyuck."

Donghyuck's heartstrings shake, very affected from the nick name you call him. HIs gaze very obviously shakes from your words, and the sight of tears starting to glaze over your eyes he loves oh so much. "You don't have to protect me all the time,"

"I love you, Y/n! It's not just my duty to protect you, I want- I need to keep you safe from them,"

Donghyuck's eyes shut tight as the sentimental words leave his mouth after staying on his mind for so long. He brings his hand down from your cheek, knowing that if he felt your bruised skin against his any more, he would break down.

Your palm is suddenly cupping his cheek, startling him a little bit, before he melts into your touch. You lean down to press your forehead softly against his, your whisper close to his nose and cheek.

"I love you too, but I can't stand seeing you constantly getting hurt because of me."

Tears falling on your cheeks, your fingers gently wiping off Donghyuck's own from his face, your heart aches. It aches as you know that you will have to leave Donghyuck to protect you, but it aches more knowing he wants to protect you, and he's not doing it just to satisfy your father. It reassures you that you're not just a duty.

The hopeless romantic in me is crying😭

𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬

agent!yoon jeonghan x agent!gn!reader

0.7k words; when a mission goes wrong, jeonghan tries to distract himself you by talking about a wedding; mentions of blood/a knife wound/poison, cursing

Yoon Jeonghan thought he was going to throw up, cry, or both; and he wasn't even the one dying. 

"This was not what I thought when I wanted to carry you over the threshold," he mused nervously, angling your body so as to not hit the door frame as he carried you into the safe house. There was a team of paramedics already awaiting your arrival, setting up a clean space to work as well as their medical equipment.

In his arms, your limbs were limp and perspiration dribbled down the sides of your face. You had one hand pressed firmly to your side, preventing even more blood from seeping out of your body—your life force slowly drifting. You managed a weak smile up at Jeonghan's carefully calm face. "You wanted—to get married?" You panted, wincing as you added additional pressure to the wound. 

It had been a mission gone wrong, and in an effort to save Jeonghan, you had stepped in the arc of a poisoned blade. Jeonghan had seen you crumple before him, then his vision had gone red with absolute rage. Now? He was panicking. Yoon Jeonghan did not panic. 

"To you? Fuck yes." He couldn't believe he was talking about this while you were dying in his arms. "Hurry! They're dying for fuck's sake!" He barked at the present medical staff. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and his eyes darted frantically between the staff and your face. 

"Stay with me, dove," he murmured to you when he saw your eyelids drooping. His vision was blurring slightly, tears pooling in his eyes.

You sucked in a breath and tried to focus on his face, and not the vice-like grip the poison had on your heart. "Well, what's it like? Our wedding?"

Jeonghan gulped. His eyes closed briefly, trying to remain calm enough to tell you what he had envisioned for nights while the two of you were undercover together. "You'd look perfect, as always. This extravagant garment, bouquet of callas and just… pearls."

"Pearls?" You hummed, trying to imagine it yourself. 

He smiled down at you, nodding. Anyone could see the love that shined so deeply in his eyes whenever he looked at you. "Mhm. I was thinking of a pearl engagement ring with diamonds around it. What do you think?"

"Huh," you coughed, groaning when you irritated the wound further. You reigned it all in though when seeing worry flash over his features. "Not—bad. What else?"

Jeonghan's eyes flickered back to the medical staff, who motioned for him to set you down on the bed. He did so, carefully, but swiftly. Finally. One of them murmured for him to continue to distract you and keep you awake for them. He could do that. He could definitely do that.

He knelt down beside your head, so you would face away from the doctors working on your injury. There was… so much blood. Jeonghan swallowed. "It'd be a small thing," he told you, "nothing big. Our families, friends from the academy, that sort of thing. We'd have a live orchestra during the ceremony and a band for the reception."

Hand smoothing over the dampened hair against your forehead, Jeonghan hoped you couldn't feel him shaking. "I was thinking a pagoda over a beach cliff. Something stupidly romantic like that."

"That is stupidly romantic," you rasped, agreeing. You bit your lip, feeling something sting sharply at your injury and twist. 

Jeonghan grabbed your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you needed. "I thought so. And we'd have handwritten vows, of course. Cheol would probably be your Man of Honor."

"You're not wrong." You would have joked about calling him your Maid of Honor instead if you had the strength. 

"And when you walked down the aisle—fuck, I'd probably cry." A tear slipped down the slope of his cheek and you wished you could lift yourself up and kiss it away. 

"Hannie?" Your voice was tight from trying to keep the pain in. Whatever the hell those doctors were doing, you could definitely feel it. 

He nodded, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "Mhm?"

"Can we get married after this?"

Jeonghan smiled, genuinely this time, and you saw the light return to his eyes if only for a split second. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "God yes—I never thought you'd ask."

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunny1428 @mythicalamphitrite @ana-is-losing-her-mind @super-btstrash-posts @otchae @luv4vernon

this was the fic that started my changmin phase 😩💘

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

Forbidden | Ji Changmin

SUMMARY: you have been separated from your childhood best friend, Changmin for years. so when you both finally reunite on a mission together, he is no longer the childhood friend you have once come to know of, and things were going to take a turn for the both of you.

PAIRING: spy Changmin x spy f!reader

GENRE: ex-bffs to lovers au, angst, crime, suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, violence, mentions of gambling, mentions of human trafficking, kissing, making out

WORD COUNT: 3,168

A/N: here is the 3rd entry from my 100 followers event, and this was requested by my 妹妹 @sungbeam 💕 the way you chose that specific prompt lmao i knew i had to deliver some ✨good food✨ for you, and i hope it was worthy of your taste miss beam 😮‍💨 (it might be a bit rushed so i humbly apologise i wrote this in one sitting)

“Agent Y/N, reporting in.” 

You knocked at your boss's door and stood there enthusiastically, awaiting your next mission. 

It has been a while since you were deployed on field missions, hence the excitement you felt when you received a code entitled “S-Rank”, which indicated the highest rank of difficulty of missions that only a selected few are allowed to participate in. 

You have been with your current agency for a few years, and through hard work and determination, you rose up to one of the higher-ranking agents in the field. With that, you are mostly deployed on the field, dealing with many missions that are far more gruesome and dangerous, which could eventually cost you your life if you weren’t careful enough. But you were a fighter—a soldier equipped with wits and extraordinary martial arts skills. 

As a result, you have been placed on training duties where you were assigned to train the new recruits to prepare them as they make their official debut on the field. Not that you were entirely mad about it, since martial arts was one of your fortes, but you surely miss being on the field and on an actual mission. 

Hence, you couldn’t contain your excitement for the day, and you couldn’t wait to gear back up and return to your comfort zone. 

Your boss—Director Ji, was pretty pleased with the number of upcoming recruits that were going to officially join the team, as several agents were currently abroad to fulfill their own missions. In other words, your company desperately needs potential ones who could take on field missions. 

This time, however, he hands you a red folder with all the necessary information about the mission. You knew what the red folder exactly meant—ones that could indeed cause a life or death situation, and there is no room for even a single mistake for this one. Usually, these were given to the elites, not even to higher-ranking agents like yourself. 

The Elites are the best of the best, and they excel in every possible scenario or situation that they are in, no matter how brutal the mission may be. They do not engage much with the other agents except for the director himself, as they are often sent away far abroad to handle much more trivial matters at hand. 

If your director has handed you such a folder where it’s not meant for you on a usual basis, that could only mean one thing. You were to step in as a substitute and be paired with at least one of the members from the elites and fulfill the mission as swiftly and hassle-free as possible. 

As you were about to turn back and take your leave, your director stopped you just in time to inform you that this mission requires some more training than usual, and you were to be paired up with one of them to prepare for the big day.

Training with one of the elites? Obviously, how could you ever say no? It is definitely a dream come true for you as you have always admired them from the shadows. Enthusiastically, you nodded and agreed with the offer as you stepped out of the room.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

“I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you.” 

The brunette shoots you with that cold and blunt statement, and in return, you give the male the biggest frown of the day. 

As much as you were enthusiastic the entire morning as you prepared yourself for whoever would join you for the mission, the excitement immediately died down when the infamous elite member, Ji Changmin, stepped foot into the training room.

Your ex-childhood best friend. 

Both you and Changmin go all the way back to kindergarten, you both were literally neighbours up till high school. You have spent both of your childhood together, to the point that you both knew exactly what were the biggest insecurities each of you had, even knowing how many crushes you had and how you both are hopeless romantics. 

But as Changmin and his family moved away after graduating high school, you both lost contact with one another, never speaking or keeping in touch for many years. 

Until you graduate from university. 

Somehow, you have managed to stumble upon the Director’s Ji company, which he has been operating secretly for many years—thanks to one of your seniors who recommended you to him. He was more than delighted to take you in, knowing how you eventually pursued criminology and eventually keen on the idea of becoming a spy yourself. 

That was when you were reunited with Ji Changmin. You were beyond ecstatic when you first saw him in person again. You wanted to run into him, give him the biggest embrace, and take in all his scent—one you have missed so dearly after all these years.

But the male eventually shut you off before you could do anything. He was nowhere near like the Changmin you used to grow up and love—he was now cold, often very stern, and would work alone instead rather than with others. 

Because of that, you have never gotten the chance to talk things out with him, and you realise that it’s best for you to keep a distance from him now. 

Never in a million years would that day come so soon for you both to reunite on a S-Rank Mission. 

His simple yet cold statement immediately ruined your mood, and you were about to fire back at the male. But he was already prepared with his gear and gloves, waiting for you to join him on the training mat. 

Given his demeanour, you knew that dragging his time would be a fatal mistake right now, and you had no choice but to equip yourself with the necessary items and join him as fast as you could. 

As you make your way to his way, you can’t help but notice his appearance. His hair was parted to the side, and a little scar was situated right on his left cheek. He was wearing a simple black tee, but you couldn’t help but notice how buff he had gotten and how the shirt was clearly a little too tight for him. 

The way his biceps were clearly so toned than ever, and god. The veins— 

“When will you stop ogling and get yourself together?” He shoots you with an unfriendly look. Clearly, his patience is running out. 

“Fine. God, what an impatient man you have become.” You blurted out by accident, eyes widening as you just realised you had let out your frustration and most inner thoughts. You looked up to meet the male face-to-face, only to realise that he was not bothered by that comment at all. 

He has dealt with much worse before, this is nothing to him.

As you finally got into your position, you raised both of your now balled-up fists and stood in a defensive mood, ready for whatever moves the male would lay upon you. Unfortunately, you were a bit too slow to notice the swift movement he had made, and immediately, you were on the ground, groaning as you felt a slight pain upon your lower chin. 

“Just so you know, I won’t go easy on you just because you are a girl. I’ll have you know that the enemies we deal with on S-Rank missions are far more murderous and barbaric than you have ever encountered. They could potentially become your worst nightmare. If this is how you will act on the field, I’m afraid you will lose your life within minutes.” Changmin spat, and boy, did it hurt as hell. 

Angered, you got back up on your feet as you repositioned yourself again, trying your best to keep up with his swift movements this time. 

This training went on for quite a while, and never once did you manage to land a blow on Changmin himself. Instead, you were constantly attacked at your blind spots and always on the ground, trying to find your way back up again. 

God, this is going to be a hell of a ride. 

The intense training with Changmin lasted for a few days, and the amount of bruises you have gotten thanks to him was uncountable. 

Every day, you would return home and find yourself sitting by your bedside, applying an ice pack and ointment to each and every one of them. It has been quite a while since you have felt like this.

Humiliated and defeated.

This only happened when you were still a rookie, as you were training with your superiors then. Ever since you made your debut, you have done nothing but win in all the physical battles you have dealt with, both on and off the field.

“I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you.” 

His words constantly echo into your mind, and you just can’t seem to get it off as much as you wanted. No matter how cruel they seemed, you knew his words meant well for you. 

This is a S-Rank mission, for goodness sake, Y/N. It is either you defeat the enemy or be defeated yourself. 

Taking in a deep breath as you closed your eyes, you just mentally prayed and hoped that all of the intense training with your ex-childhood best friend has at least done something for you and that you will be well-prepared as you both head into your designated location for tomorrow night. 

Let’s just get this done and over with.

The both of you arrived discreetly at the location, equipped with a radio earpiece to receive necessary transmissions from one another to keep each other in the loop as you both parted ways to scout around the area. 

The target of the mission was to infiltrate one of the largest and most well-known casinos in the heart of Seoul, The Grand Palace, as it is believed that the area itself was used for human trafficking, which explains the sudden disappearance of a handful of women in their early 20s over the past few months. 

According to the information you both were given, as written in the red folder, the CEO of the casino, Mr Kim, was the mastermind behind all of this and had his men surrounding the casino at all times to prevent information from spreading while keeping his gambling business on the run.

Both of your mission was to infiltrate the control room—download all of the necessary information that could potentially expose the hidden and true business the casino was making money from. And, of course, to get the girls out of there once and for all. 

Changmin suggested taking on the latter as he knew the area would be armed with more enemies to keep the girls out of reach. It was best suited for him to take on the role of doing the dirty work instead of you potentially. In return, you were to get to the control room and bypass the security, download the necessary data, get out of there, and pass it on to the FBI, who were already armed and ready for your signal. 

So that was precisely what you did, with no room for arguments this time. It was kind of a maze to navigate to the control room, especially when the casino was filled with many individuals and the place was dark as hell. Yet, you had to bypass everyone while being undetected. To the best of your abilities, you eventually reached the destination, and sure enough, you were met with your worst nightmare. 

Tons of red light laser security filled the room way before the entrance to the control room.

You were flexible, to say the least, but there is no way you could bypass all of these on your own. Whenever you were met in such a situation, you always had your superior or partner to figure it out together. But time was ticking, and you had no choice but to do it all alone this time. 

As you slowly bent through each of the lasers and eventually made your way to the last one, you breathed in relief that there was no one around to notice your presence. But your happiness did not last for long, as you missed out on one of the lasers that was situated close to your right ankle. Sure enough, the alarms have begun going off. 

Panicking, you tried your best to figure out an escape route as quickly as possible. But given the room's darkness, it was impossible to notice anything in particular. 

That is until a lightbulb dings in your mind, and you look up to see a slightly ajar air vent. 

It’s now or never. 

With the equipment you were geared up with, you somehow managed to quickly get into the vent right before security guards came pouring into the room, trying to find the culprit behind all of this. 

You began trying to calm your fast-beating heart down, that is, until you felt a pair of warm hands cupped over your mouth. 

“Have they not taught you well how the very first rule of becoming a spy is not to get caught?” 

That voice. It was Changmin. 

You turned behind to find the male looking very displeased, and he was still cupping your mouth, not letting it go as he was convinced your breathing would definitely blow up both of your covers. Frustrated, you tried your best to fight against his grip, loosening yourself from him and yelling back at him silently. 

“Look, laser securities was not my best forte.” 

“That’s not a valid excuse, Y/N. You literally had one job, and you failed at doing so.”

You scoffed. “Really, Changmin? After all these years, you suddenly show up in my life again, only to turn into this cold-blooded spy with zero empathy left inside of him? Has becoming one of the elites affected your ego that much?” 

Then, there was a slight pause. Changmin’s face then darkens as he scooches closer to you. “Don’t you dare say it as if you knew what I have been through over the years that we were separated from one another.” 

Clearly, you were not backing down this time. “Oh yeah, then tell me. All the bullshit you went through made you turn into such a heartless individual.” 

In the blink of an eye, Changmin cups his hands around your mouth once again as he pushes you down on the surface of the vent. He is now crawling up against you, moving in closer to you. 

“You take that back right now, miss Y/N. I swear if I ever hear one more word from you—”

“Then what?” You muffled. 

Then it all happened. Changmin did what he knew was best to shut you up. As swiftly as he often portrays with his martial arts abilities, he removes his hand from your mouth and plants a kiss directly onto your lips. The whole thing was aggressive and messy, as one would say, he was now kissing you messily, trying by all means to keep your mouth shut as the enemies were still down below. 

On the other hand, you were far too taken aback by what happened, and your eyes were now as wide as they could ever be. Somehow, your body did not reject his touch or the kiss, in fact, you actually liked it. 

Was it because you were too deprived of having him close to you? How badly you have missed him so much? 

And how you never got to confess to him that you had feelings for him right before he left all those years ago.

This kiss was a dream come true for you. And you were not planning to let him go anytime soon. Instead, you moved your hands to tangle in his hair as you opened your mouth slightly to allow for more room for the both of you. Changmin then lays one of his hands on the side of your waist while the other travels up to one of your breasts, giving them a light squeeze. Adding to the tension, he then makes way for his tongue to enter your mouth, trying his best to devour up all of the elicit moans that you were letting out to keep this whole make-out session as quiet as possible. 

And god, how much he loved hearing the moans coming out from you. 

Neither of you planned on stopping anytime soon because this all felt so good. It was as if you both had longed for each other and now that you finally had, you were not going to let him go just yet. 

Finally, after minutes, the both of you were gasping for air when Changmin realised that nobody was in the room anymore. The coast was clear, and both of you were safe enough to return and continue the mission. 

Trying your best to steady your breathing again, you decided to shoot the male with a little tease. “You treat all of your ladies like this?” 

“...Shut up.” 

It did not take you both long enough to be able to infiltrate the control room. With your abilities, you both managed to knock out all of the individuals in the room cold while you went to the main system to download all of the information needed to expose the casino. As ordered by Changmin previously, you wasted no time leaving the premises as soon as possible to get help from the FBI. 

While you were doing that, Changmin made his way to where the girls were kept captive and defeated all the guards on standby on his own. He then managed to free them all and escorted them out, where the police and medical assistants were already waiting for them. 

At the end of the day, the mission was a huge success, and the mastermind and his team were eventually placed behind bars, facing life imprisonment as punishment. 

After returning to your headquarters a few days later, you were then promoted to joining the elites by Director Ji himself, as he was pleased with your performance. However, there was one strict rule that these agents were to follow.

Never engage in personal matters with one another. 

Before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed and you exited your agency, feeling slightly excited as you made your way into the black vehicle already waiting for you. 

As soon as you opened the door and entered, you stared at the male with one of his hands on the steering wheel while the other came up to cup your cheek.

“Say, won’t your dad eventually discover all of this?” You questioned with a concerned look on your face. 

Changmin then leans in to give a peck on your lips. 

“Who says he needs to find out about it?”

masterlist

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that bittersweet ending though 🥹

Goldfinger - (k.yh)

➺ Pairing: Agent 007! reader x Younghoon

➺ Summary: You left the force years ago for a good reason. But it’s that same reason why you’re back on the mission, trying to catch him once and for all… Goldfinger.

➺ Word Count: 3.6k

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fem!reader, unprotected sex, choking, hate sex (if you squint), cowgirl, missionary, overstimulation, handjob, oral (m! receiving), creampies, face slapping, guns, drugs, and alcohol are mentioned, being tied up, dry humping, teasing, pet names used (baby and sweetheart), let me know if I missed anything!

➺ A/N: Very loosely based on the movie. This spy fic is not related to the other Younghoon spy fic I did! This is my entry for The 007 files by the lovely @winterchimez. Proofread once, hope you enjoy! Side note: the song from this movie is my fave so it’s linked up at the end of the fic if you wanna listen!

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers

You stare at the vesper martini in your hand as you slowly swirl it around, watching the liquid move inside the glass. You were sitting by the bar of this incredible mansion. You have never been to a party like this before.

Everyone was dressed to the nines in this lavish event. Everything from the Hors D'oeuvres to the entertainment screamed luxury, it was like you were invited to a party from The Great Gatsby. As you sip from your glass, you reflect back to why you’re even here to begin with…

Goldfinger.

He was your toughest case that suddenly went cold a couple of years back. To be honest, you were incredibly reluctant to take on this case again, having quit the force around the same time the case went dry and after that incident in Monaco when you nearly died because of trying to catch Goldfinger.

You almost had him that time, almost finally being able to place a face to the name since no one knew what Goldfinger looked like (and he planned on keeping it that way). Out of all the cases you’ve done, he was the one that kept you on your feet, kept your heart running a mile a minute, he somewhat made you feel alive again every time you were close to catching him.

But after the incident you vowed to never go back on the force and start a new life. And that’s what you did. Changed your name, moved to a new location, left everyone you knew in order to truly wipe out that chapter in your life. But sometimes you would catch yourself reminiscing those times, especially the Goldfinger case.

He was different from the other villains, that’s what made him interesting. You knew in your heart Goldfinger was more than just a man loaded with money. He was smart, cunning, and very strategic. In some weird and funny way when you think about it, he kind of reminds you of your own boyfriend Younghoon.

How he always kept the excitement in your relationship since the day you met, how he was the first man in your life that matched your intellect like no one had ever done before, and not to mention how much he would spoil you in many ways that he could.

He was truly one of the greatest things to happen in your life ever since you quit the force. You saw a future with him, a quiet and peaceful life, raising your own and spending your days with each other forever. It was like you were made for each other.

But there was one problem… You never revealed to him that you were once an agent.

So when your boss suddenly called you up while you were watching a movie with Younghoon, you panicked.

“Who’s that baby?” He looks over at your phone, a name he did not recognize.

“Oh! That’s Jacob, old friend of mine from when I took my masters.” You quickly respond. “Let me just take this call real quick okay?” You kiss his cheek before getting up.

“Okay, but make it quick. I miss you already.” Younghoon pouts before turning his attention back to the tv.

You slowly close the door of your shared bedroom and instantly swipe open your phone. At first, you were mad at Jacob for calling you after specifically telling him to leave you alone for good. But when he started telling you why he called and mentioned the name Goldfinger, you felt a sudden surge of adrenaline pumping within your veins.

“We have a really good lead and we’re sure to catch him this time around. It’s not like what happened in Monaco I can assure you.” Jacob says.

“It sounds really tempting…” You answer, trying to keep a hush tone so your boyfriend doesn’t hear you. “But I don’t know…”

“Just one last time 007, please? For old time’s sake?” You hear the slight desperation in Jacob’s tone.

You pause for a moment, suddenly remembering all the bad memories attached to Goldfinger. But there was little voice within you was screaming to take on the job. Not only that, but you had a sudden vision of meeting Goldfinger face to face and finally ending his mischief once and for all.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You sigh heavily.

As you reviewed the case file in your study, you couldn't help but feel off about everything. Was it really a good idea to take this case again? The case that nearly caused your death? Was it to finally close that chapter or was it just for you to relive your glory days as an agent? You shook your head, not wanting to overthink the situation and just jumped right in with what you needed to know and what you were assigned to do.

According to the case file, Goldfinger had been M.I.A the same time you had retired from the force. No one knew where he was or what he was up to until there was sudden activity popping up from the credit card you had tracked years ago.

While the items that were purchased under the credit card weren't out of the ordinary, there was one pattern that stood out to you. The items he had bought seemed to be around the area where you had lived. When you took note of the dates of purchase, you realized they were at a time when you were out with Younghoon too.

Your eyes widened. Had Goldfinger been around you all this time? So close yet so far away? Was he one of the people you sat beside in the train or passed by in your local coffee shop? Whatever it was, it felt like he was mocking you. How he still seems to be right under your nose even after all these years as well as the idea of Younghoon possibly getting into danger bothered you a lot.

It should’ve frightened you, how your past seemed to cling onto you no matter what you did, but instead made you want to catch him even more.

The motivation you once felt being on this case was alive and kicking. As with every case you got into, you knew you would have to face whatever consequences there will be.

Even if it meant leaving the love of your life behind.

“Do you really have to go?” Younghoon’s raspy voice whispered in your ear as he kissed the spot under your earlobe. His body collapsing on top of you after you two come down from your highs after an intense night of lovemaking.

“It’s a reunion with my friends from master’s school. Can’t pass it up otherwise it will take years for us to see each other again.” You breathe out heavily. Your core throbs slightly as you feel him pull out and his cum slowly spilling out of you.

“Does it really have to be so far away?” He pouts as he helps you get cleaned up with a warm hand towel.

“Paris is not THAT far.” You chuckle, sitting up to grab the water he held in his hand.

“Why don’t you take me with you? Please?” He looks at you with doe eyes. How could say no to a face like that?

“It will be quick, I promise Hoon.” You cup his face and his forehead tenderly.

“Okay.” He smiles, before reaching for your waist and swiftly pulling you on top of him. His mischievous smile already telling you what he wants as you feel his member become hard beneath you again.

“Then let’s make the most of this night baby.”

“Agent!” You snap back into reality as you hear Jacob shouting in your earpiece.

“Wha-yeah what’s up?” You ask.

“He’s here…” Your heart starts racing at those two words.

Goldfinger, finally in the same vicinity as you are. Just a few feet away from you somewhere in this mansion.

“Which one is he?” You sit up properly and adjust your dress, checking if the gun strapped to your thigh is still in place.

“The tall man by the buffet table, talking to the ambassador of Norway. He’s wearing a gold masquerade mask.”

“On it.”

You down your martini before hopping off the bar stool and placing your own mask back on. You walk around the party while you keep you eye on Goldfinger’s figure, making sure you keep a good distance from him. As soon as he walks up the grand stairs and disappears into one of the rooms in the mansion, you make your way in the crowd and follow him.

As you stealthily walk towards the room he entered, you notice the door was left slightly open, allowing you to peek inside and see what was going on. You could see the back of Goldfinger facing you as he opened and a bottle of whiskey a poured a glass for himself.

There he is, you thought to yourself. You were slightly in awe seeing his figure and surprised to find out that he was not the old fat man you thought he might be. In fact, he appeared to be around your age.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice a henchman coming up from behind you and smothers you with a handkerchief, instantly knocking you out with whatever drug was laced on the fabric.

You slowly wake up to the sound of classical music being played while hearing the muffled sounds of the people outside the room. As you come back to your senses, you realize you were placed lying down on the king sized bed in the suite.

At first you thought it was all a dream, until you feel your hands tied behind your back and your earpiece missing. You suddenly squirm, trying to let yourself free from the restraint until-

“Struggling will only make it worse 007.”

The deep voice making you turn your attention to the living room across. The same figure you had caught a glimpse of, drinking from his whiskey glass before getting up to saunter towards you. The aura around him was so intense you couldn’t help but just freeze and stare at Goldfinger.

As soon as he got to the foot of the bed, he gently pulls your legs towards him, making you sit at the edge while he slowly kneels in front of you.

“I must say, I didn’t expect my 007 to be woman. A pretty one at that.” Goldfinger says with a sultry tone. You know you shouldn’t have reacted that way, but when he said “my” you felt your cheeks become warm. And the way he said you were pretty even if you still had your mask on made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Keep it together agent!

“At last, we finally meet face to face after all these years.” He caresses your knees as he looks up at you.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think of your first real interaction with Goldfinger would end up like this. And it doesn’t help at the fact the more you try to see his face under the mask, you could tell that he was definitely a handsome man.

But there was definitely something about him that seemed oddly familiar, you just couldn’t name it…

“Bet you missed me too didn’t you?” You tease back. “It’s been a couple of years.”

“Oh yes I have, sweetheart.” He smirks. “Thought about you sometimes while I was on a… break.”

His hands slowly caress your thighs, goosebumps forming on your skin when you feel his hand on the exposed area of your dress. You try to hide the little gasp that comes out of your mouth but fail miserably. His smile grows wider knowing the effect he has on you.

You were so caught up staring into his eyes that you didn't even notice him getting up quick and toppling over you. His body hovers above yours as his hand places your tied wrists above your head.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me Mr. Goldfinger?” You tease him again. He lowers his head and whispers in your ear.

“Why don’t you take a guess?” His hand instantly pulls out his golden pistol and points it under your jaw. You try to free yourself as much as you can but the weight of his body holds you in place, making you suddenly scared for your life once again.

“Let me see your face 007. I want to see the face of my favorite agent before she turns into gold.”

He pulls away from you and removes the mask from your face. Not even a second at looking at your face, Goldfinger suddenly gasps and drops the gun. It looked like he saw a ghost by the way his eyes widened.

“Fuck this can’t be real.” He panics.

“What do you mea-”

Before you could even ask, he removes his own mask, finally revealing to you his own face. You both stare at each other wide eyed, hearts pumping loudly at the shocking revelation happening before you.

“…Y-younghoon?” you stutter. “Is that you?”

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you were with your friends.”

“And I thought you were back home! Oh my god-” You cover your face with your tied wrists, trying to wipe the tears forming in your eyes.

Suddenly you remember all the little things that made you feel like Younghoon was similar to Goldfinger. It was like it all flashed before you. Here you thought you were the only one keeping secrets, but it looks like your boyfriend was keeping some skeletons in the closet as well.

Younghoon runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regain his composure, still trying to grasp at the fact the love of his life happens to be the very person out to kill him.

“What are we going to do now?” He looks at you with sadness in his eyes.

Instead of answering him, you sit up and lunge forward, making you both fall off the bed as you topple over his body this time. He struggles to get the gun near his hand, but you’re able to swat it out before he does.

You hold his neck with your hands still tied together, slowly adding pressure to his throat as he tries to pull your arms away. Tears start to fall from your eyes. You would never hurt Younghoon, not in a million years. You never told him about your life in the force to avoid anything bad happening to him. But here you were, trying to kill him.

You felt so confused on what to do. But at the back of your mind, you knew you had to get the job done. To finally put him behind bars once and for all, even if your heart would be broken in the process.

As you attempt to place more pressure on his throat, your eyes grow wide as he suddenly groans out of impulse. His cock slowly becoming erect beneath you in the position you’re both in, his bulge pressing on your panty covered core.

“Don’t do that Hoon…” You whine as you try to take control of the situation.

“I can’t help it! You look absolutely gorgeous in this dress baby.” His eyes look you up and down, making you get a bit shy.

“And the way you want to kill me right now? Holy shit it’s fucking turning me on.” Younghoon groans again, his member throbbing beneath you as he soaks up the sight in front of him.

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” You say.

“But don’t you like it hard?” He smirks, but you instantly slap his face with the back of your hand, trying to get him to shut up but you know it’s not working because you feel him throbbing under you again.

“Well, before you take me in agent, can I at least request for one last thing?” He proposes.

“And what would that be Mr. Goldfinger?” You raise one eyebrow.

“Want you to use me-” He said bluntly.

“I’m sorry?” Your eyebrows scrunch together.

“You clearly have a lot of anger you want to let out, why not use it on me instead? One last taste of you before you send me off to the sharks.”

You felt so conflicted. You needed to stop Younghoon right now before he disappears again (or worse, even kill you) but at the same time you are just as turned on as he is….

“Fuck it.” You lunged forward and hungrily kiss him on the lips. He instantly grabs your hips and makes them roll back and forth, moaning at the way he can feel your wet core rubbing against his crotch.

You continue to roll your hips as Younghoon grabs your wrists and unties the rope holding them together. As soon as you’re set free your hands start to slip to his belt, hastily unbuckling them as you slide your hand in his pants, eager to fist his length like you’ve never done before.

Younghoon’s moans grow louder as you pump his cock in your hand, your tongue snaking its way into his mouth. His hands cup your breasts, kneading them as you both touch each other like a pair of twenty-year olds in college. You both help each other up from the floor and onto the bed, removing each other’s clothes as you continue your ministrations.

You waste no time going down on him, leaving a trail of hot kisses from his jaw until his abdomen before licking a stripe on his cock and taking the whole size in your mouth. Younghoon held your hair as you worked your mouth on him, the sounds of slurping and the way the tip would hit the back of your throat made his eyes roll back in pleasure.

You release him with a pop, giving his length a few pumps before straddling his lap and sinking down on his cock without any warning. You both moan at the stretch, but you start rolling your hips not waiting to adjust to his size.

“Baby, slow down for a moment-” He tries to grab your hips but instead you grab his wrists and pin them down against the mattress.

“Not after everything you put me through and lied about it!” You grind on his cock as hard as you can, using all the energy you have to chase your own high. Usually between the two of you, you’re the one that easily breaks. But this time around, it was Younghoon who breaks first .

“How was I supposed to know?! Fuck I think I’m gonna-” Younghoon doesn’t even have time to warn you because he’s already bursting inside you, the hardest he has ever done in his life. But you didn’t care, you were gonna ride him until he started to shake and cry under you.

“Sweetheart wait-” Younghoon starts to bite down on his bottom lip, trying not to let the feeling of his overstimulated cock affect him. But eventually he couldn’t hold it out much longer as you kept on aggressively riding his member.

Tears were falling down his eyes, he had never felt this during sex before, but seeing you angrily fuck the life out of him turned him on so much he ended up cumming inside you again as you finally reached your high.

You collapsed on top of him, panting against his neck as his cock continues to throb inside you. He was about to kiss your temple like he always did, but you suddenly pulled away from him and sat at the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you still try to grasp everything that happened.

But before you could even turn around to face him, Younghoon smothers you with a handkerchief making you fall asleep from the drug once again.

The moment you’re knocked out cold, Younghoon gets up to grab his clothes, dressing himself up before placing your clothes back on too. He adjusts the way you’re lying down on his bed, making sure you’re all comfortable before tracing his finger on your jaw. Looking at your face one last time and placing a kiss on your forehead before he leaves.

You wake up in your hotel room in a panic, feeling like everything that had happened was a dream. You hold your head in your hand as you feel it aching. You look around to the room and see a tray of your favorite food on a table alongside the pain medication you needed to drink.

You felt so out of it. Maybe it was a dream after all, you told yourself. As you walk over to tray and sit down, you spot a letter beside the drink. You hold it up to see what it was, but your eyes widen at the familiar gold initials at the front of the envelope.

You hastily rip out the paper to look inside the contents of the letter, slouching your back onto the chair. Your heart starts to ache from the many emotions flooding through you, especially with the words written down,

Until we meet again. -Younghoon

spy minnie! Love love love!

007!ji changmin x f!reader

you're sent to montenegro to infiltrate a high-stakes poker game, but with the world hanging in the balance, it's a good thing m's sending her best employee along with you—agent 007, ji changmin.

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, james bond/007/spy au, action, suspense, pining(?), minimal angst, humor bc i'm me, violence, blood, death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weaponry, mentions of corruption, swearing, kissing, near-death experiences, mentions of terrorism but not explicitly discussed, the ending is kinda cheesy im sorry it's late and i like making him yearn, barely proofread (dudes it's so late when im writing this)

▷ word count. 11.1k

▷ based on. casino royale (2006)

a/n: this is for @winterchimez ally's 007 files collab! pls check out the other fics that have been posted 😎 also, this is way lighter than the actual movie, so uhm, yeah!

YOU KNEW FROM THE MOMENT you first stepped into your position as an agent of the Treasury, that Kenneth Kang would be a thorn in your side. Perhaps not even a thorn, but a massive pain in the neck, the back, the ass. He was a man with a helm of pomade for hair and an ego the size of Russia, who, for some odd reason, despised you.

It was funny… the last time you checked, an entity such as Russia wouldn't be so easily threatened by someone like yourself. But here was Kenneth Kang, continuing to email you passive aggressive correspondence as if he wasn't butthurt the director chose you for this task rather than him.

After all, only the best of the best were selected to assist MI6 with their assignments. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

You told Kenneth just that in your last (hopefully) email to him for the trip: The quarterly reports are still due on Monday, Kang. Remember that Director Song excused me from them because I'm off to go save the world—ta-ta! Or something to that effect.

It was unfortunate the government monitored everyone's emails or you would've signed off with something wildly hilarious like “Love (if pigs flew), Director Song's Favorite <3 (not you)”—that would stick it to him—

A clearing throat drew your attention away from your laptop so abruptly, you were glad you didn't get whiplash.

“This seat taken?” You didn't catch a clear glimpse of the man's face before he was already claiming the seat across from you. The voice was awfully familiar, and when you finally saw him, you understood why.

You nearly did a double take, but the surprise swiftly melted away like glaciers in the spring to something like warm amusement. “Ah, do I—uh—know you, sir?” You asked, gently folding your laptop closed so you can gesture to the teapot before you. “Tea?”

Ji Changmin leaned back in his chair, eyes darting from the view outside the train car window and back to you. He dragged his gaze up and down your form, the back of his knuckles pressed against his lips. It did nothing to hide his smile. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”

You obliged, refilling your cup with the hot beverage and pouring a decent amount into the extra teacup and saucer on his half of the table.

The two of you were currently on a train to Montenegro. Less than 48 hours ago, you were summoned into your director's office, only for the head of MI6 (the elusive M) to join you. You were debriefed on a high stakes poker game being hosted by a man notoriously reputed for funding terrorist organizations around the globe. You were told that M would be sending her “best” along with you to be dealt into the game—you were never given the agent's name or identification number.

But now that you were nearly an hour's ride away from Montenegro, it seemed he finally decided to reveal himself.

“Are you sure you don't remember me, Miss?” He asked, eyebrows raised over the rim of his teacup. “I was so sure that I left a lasting impression on you the last time.”

You slowly raked your eyes over the sharp, dark blue suit he wore, the white dress shirt beneath opened up at the collar, his wrist fitted with a watch that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He had cropped his hair since the last time you saw Agent 007, M's so-called “best.” That was about two years ago, when there was a joint-branch charity gala and the two of you shared a dance before he was called away. Before that, you reckoned it was likely your graduation from Cambridge.

Time flew, you supposed, and you'd both been busy.

The corner of your lips lifted as you took a ginger sip of your tea. “Well then, you'll have to do a better job this time. What brings you to Montenegro?”

“Ah, business. You know how it is.”

“A truly dull answer,” you remarked. He couldn't come up with better conversation? You expected more from the man who always prided himself on buttery smooth lines. Where was the fun in ‘business’? “No wonder you've got all of that on. You're dressed like you're about to go buy a company.”

“Could I buy your company?” He asked in jest, tilting his head to the side.

You set your teacup down and a smile flitted over your lips. “I don't think you'd ever have enough money in the world for that.”

He chuckled then and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, catching a droplet of tea clinging to it. “Challenge accepted.”

When the train pulled into the station at Montenegro, it was just about a quarter past two in the afternoon. You and Changmin stood up from your cozy two-seater table to prepare to disembark. You rifled through your laptop tote for your wallet, but before you could retrieve your money, Changmin was already dropping bills on the table.

“Is this yours?” He asked, placing a hand on the bag stowed above the seat. It was a duffle bag that ranged on the smaller size with enough room to store your toiletries, emergency items, and any other things you might have needed. You were informed that clothing and the like would be in your accommodations waiting for you—there must have been a strict dress code for this event.

You shouldered your purse. “Yes, I'm traveling light.”

“Same here.” He grabbed your bag for you, and the two of you were off, shuffling down the aisle toward the nearest exit. Light, indeed. He didn't seem to have any luggage on him, but you supposed an agent of his caliber was provided everything he needed at his accommodations.

The train station, at this hour, was rather busy. People bustled to and fro to get to their trains, the parking lot, the ticket booth, the works. Your instructions once you'd arrived in Montenegro were to get in touch with the agent who was assigned to this case, and that you already accomplished. Until now, that was about all you knew, barring the general mission at-hand.

“I assume you’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide, as well?” You voiced to him as you walked by his side toward the valet at the front of the station. You never knew a train station to have a valet, but you supposed it made sense if there were luxury, long-haul train cars.

“Your assumption would be correct,” he said. “In fact, we’re sharing a room.” The reveal of this information nearly had you tripping over your own shoes, and you were sure you saw a ghost of a smile make it onto his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him as he carried onward—of course, the two of you were sharing a room. What cover did MI6 even come up with? Something incredibly original like a married couple, you’d bet. Or, god forbid, a man and his mistress. (The thought made you gag.)

Changmin made eye contact with the valet boy, his chin inclining toward him. “Afternoon. It should be under ‘Ji.’”

The boy traced his finger down the edge of his tablet screen and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Mr. Ji,” he said, grabbing a keychain from his station and tossing it over to Changmin, “your car was just delivered two minutes ago. Have a nice trip, sir.”

“Thank you.” A rolled up bill was exchanged so fast that you thought you’d imagined it, and Changmin was walking onward down the length of the curved curb toward a parked vehicle. You followed swiftly after him, and upon further inspection, realized that the vehicle he was striding towards was a sleek Aston Martin in a classy shade of silver. It looked like something straight out of Hollywood, the sight nearly making your knees buckle. It was enough to say that all thoughts of you sharing a room with Changmin flew out the Aston Martin’s window.

Changmin gave a laugh at your reaction, opening the passenger side door for you. “You look more excited to see this car than me, sweetheart.”

“Was I that obvious? She’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but grin back as you slipped into the smooth, leather seat. The interior was just as beautiful and sleek, with dark colored leather and a shiny center console. While you buckled yourself in, you heard Changmin deposit your bag in the backseat before rounding the car to take his place in the driver’s side.

“I can’t say I disagree,” he said, the door slamming. He retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from a compartment above the rearview mirror, donning them, then flashing you a dimpled smile. “Shall we?”

Changmin revved up the engine and pulled out of the train station's front lot onto the scenic road that would wind down the mountains to reach the portside where Hotel Splendide was located.

“I haven't seen you in two years, have you been well?” You piped up, now that the two of you were alone.

He hummed. “Ah, for the most part, yes—I’ve been alright.”

“Trotting the globe, I bet?”

“You'd win that bet, for sure,” he mused. He passed you a brief glance, turning his eyes back to the road. “And you?”

You mimicked the humming sound he'd made earlier. “I've been decent. Just work most days; you know how it is.”

He nodded his understanding. “Social life just as dead as uni?”

An incredulous sound flew out of your mouth, your hand swatting his arm to coax an impish smile from him. “I have friends!”

“Significant others then,” he offered.

You bristled in your seat and met his grin with a stink eye. “There are more important things than finding romance.”

“Still the same Yn as I remember,” he teased. “Now I know you're not an imposter.” A beat of silence, and then, “M must have been very pleased with your performance records to have approved of your director's choice. Not that I'm surprised; you've always been exceptional in your field.”

You turned your head to face the window on your side, barely hiding the pleased smile on your face from his compliment. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where you were, and you should've been proud of yourself. “I appreciate that. Though, I'm sure the fact that we know each other might have something to do with it, too.”

“I think that's just an added bonus,” he remarked optimistically. “You'll know how to keep me in check.” That was, literally speaking, exactly what your role here was. While Changmin was dealt into the game, you controlled the amount of money he was able to use or bet with. Because you were the trusted agent of the Treasury, you would be privy to the amount of money appropriate to use from the government's coffers.

“Who knew one partner project would lead to us saving the world together?” He added offhandedly with almost a nostalgic sort of whimsy.

“Are you ready to be a team player this time, though?” You asked, eyebrow raised. “The rumors say you enjoy flying solo.”

“I fly solo when it's dangerous,” he corrected. Which, you guessed, was most of the time in his line of work.

“So you're saying this mission isn't dangerous?”

“A poker game?” He laughed. “The only dangerous thing about it is gonna be how fast I'm going to win.”

The Hotel Splendide was as splendid as its name suggested. The grand, white limestone facade was carved with arched windows and statues, sleek columns and balconies. This side faced out into the waterfront, giving all arriving patrons a beautiful view of the port.

Changmin directed his car into the cobblestone roundabout at the front of the hotel. When he brought the vehicle to a stop, a bellboy in a maroon colored uniform opened your car door for you and offered a hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you murmured, rolling your neck and stretching your limbs from the hour-long car ride.

Changmin emerged from the driver's side with his keys in hand, speaking to another attendant about being careful with his vehicle. He rounded the car just as the bellboy grabbed your duffle from the backseat.

“Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. This way to the check-in counter please,” the bellboy said, gesturing toward the front door, framed by an amber-toned awning and crowned in a myriad of flags from around the world.

You felt Changmin's palm warm the small of your back as you clutched your laptop purse in your hands. “Of course, thank you.”

The hotel’s foyer was just as magnificent as its outside. A crystalline chandelier hung from the high-domed ceiling, painting the room in a luxurious champagne gold, while the marble floors were lined in a deep crimson velvet. The front desk was to your immediate left with a number of staff stationed behind it.

The woman you and Changmin went to greeted you both with a polite smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. May I have the name of your reservation, please?”

“Ji,” your friend answered, “James Ji.”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Ah,” the woman said, “but of course, Mr. Ji. Yours and your assistant's suite has been prepared for your arrival.”

Assistant? While she readied the key cards for you, you met Changmin’s gaze with a number of questions in your eyes. He only answered with a helpless expression.

Assistant? As if.

For fear of jeopardizing the mission by correcting the cover MI6 so generously assigned you, you reluctantly kept your mouth shut.

The desk clerk pushed a pair of cards across the polished wood toward you and Changmin—key cards. “These are your keys for your stay in room 700. All amenities, such as room service and the spa, are included in the fees you paid while booking. Your luggage will be delivered to your room for you. Anything you might need may be addressed via the phone in your suite or here at the front desk.”

(Assistant? Did you look like a fucking assistant?)

Changmin collected the room keys and passed you one. “Excellent, thank you. Did any mail arrive for me?”

“Yes, sir. A small parcel was delivered directly to your suite, as well as several garment bags. You'll find them in your wardrobe. Is that all?”

With nothing else to be addressed, you and Changmin thanked the front desk attendant and you were shuttled toward the elevators at the end of the hall. It was a good thing the elevator carriage made a swift arrival, because as soon as the doors slid closed, you let your frustrations be known.

“Assistant?” You exclaimed, gesticulating frustratedly. “Out of all the cover options? That woman probably thinks I'm your mistress!”

“I didn't choose it,” Changmin said, raising his palms in surrender. Though, it was clear by his expression that he was at least amused by your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, then narrowed them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What if you were the assistant, hm? Why aren't I the rich lady with a handsome secretary I take on vacation with me?”

His grin was teasing as he leaned closer to you, your breath hitching for a split second. There was a brief moment where your senses were fully engulfed by the smell of his cologne and the way a lock of his hair curled over his forehead. “You think I'm handsome?”

As if the universe could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks, the elevator doors mercifully opened onto the seventh floor.

He leaned away, something self-satisfied playing on his mouth as he returned his hand to your back. “Okay,” he drawled, “say I'm your handsome assistant…”

“I'm never living that down, am I?” You groaned, already feeling the headache spike in your temples. Your eyes fluttered about the corridor you entered; it was just as beautiful as the lobby downstairs, but with a slightly moodier glow to the lights as if not to disturb any of the patrons on this floor should they wish for an escape from downstair's hustle and bustle.

“Imagine if Chanhee found out you'd said that.”

“Don't get me started on Chanhee.” Room 700 appeared in your sight, and you smacked your key card against the card reader before letting yourself into the room. As the lights flickered on, you asked Changmin from over your shoulder, “Have you heard from him recently, by the way?”

Chanhee was a mutual friend from your college days. While he was technically a closer friend to Changmin, you'd met Chanhee through Changmin after your partner project and grabbed dinner together every once in a while whenever Chanhee was in town.

You were already making a beeline to the bathroom when you heard the hotel room door close and lock behind Changmin. “Recently? Depends on your definition of ‘recently.’”

The sound of your sigh echoed as you absentmindedly fixed your hair in the reflection. Train hair wasn't as poor as airplane hair, that was for sure. “He misses you,” you said in a singsong tone.

“Is that right?” He chuckled. “I'll shoot him a text then.”

He appeared in the reflection behind you holding two black garment bags, one in each hand. He'd shed his suit jacket somewhere, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. “These are ours for tonight,” he said to you, handing you the one with your name on it.

Ah, tonight. “Thanks,” you said, taking a peek inside to see what exactly was prepared for you. Your curiosity piqued at the sight of deep wine red fabric, but you didn't look any further for the time being.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, stealing a glance at you as he brushed his hair back in the mirror.

At the proximity of tonight's events, you suddenly felt your heart rate climb. Before when this was only an assignment, the gravity of the situation hadn't fallen over you yet. But now that it was your current reality, it began to rush at you with the speed of an oncoming train.

You steeled your nerves. You were tapped to carry out this task for a reason. The only thing you had to do was be wary of Changmin's spending; he was doing the heavy lifting. Even if you were about to be in a room with a few dozen other dangerous people.

You swallowed, nodding. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

He pressed his lips together, his dimples appearing in his cheeks but not because of joy. There was a step forward, then another. “Hey,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “I won't let anything bad happen to you or to anybody; that's what I'm here for.”

He draped his garment over his arm and leaned against the bathroom counter beside you. “If we both do our jobs right, we'll be fine. Do you know who our target is? Just so you're aware of who to look out for.”

You nodded, “Le Chiffre.” That was the name of the host of tonight's poker game. He was high on the MI6's most wanted list, and tonight was a critical effort to put a stop to his movements, as well as the credibility he had with his clients. You'd seen pictures of this man—the cold of his eyes and the pale scar that disabled one of his pupils—you were well aware of what he looked like.

“Good,” he murmured. “Then you stay far away from him, got it, sweetheart?”

“Got it.”

Though the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the room after that conversation, Changmin ordered the two of you room service before you needed to prepare for the poker game. You figured food in your stomach would keep you grounded and lessen the nerves trilling through you and making your extremities feel cold to the touch.

Dinner shared in the privacy of your hotel room with an old friend was pleasant. You both sat on the couch sectional next to each other, his arm laid casually over the back of where you sat, as you caught up and dined. There was something oddly warm in his eyes… you didn't know what it was that made him seem so clued into what you were saying, as if he was spellbound. You figured it must be the training he underwent; after all, if he couldn't just muscle his way to an answer, then seduction was also a powerful tool at his disposal.

You just wondered why it was seeping into his interaction with you. Perhaps it became second nature for him to be this way—to lean into every word you said, to brighten at the sound of your laugh, to mirror every smile. To make you feel like you were the only person in his world and that you were all that mattered.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around and you were in the bathroom preparing for the game, your nerves had calmed considerably.

The dress that MI6 provided you was a deep wine evening gown that hugged your upper body and cascaded down the length of your legs before it hung just above your feet. The satin was gathered and left to create a cowl at the neckline, and somebody had thought it was a fabulous idea to leave a high slit in one side all the way up to mid-thigh height. (One wrong move and you were screwed.)

It was as if a river of wine physically wrapped around you as a garment for the night.

Though you appreciated the beauty of it, it only served to make you realize that perhaps controlling Changmin's spending wasn't your only job tonight; your other purpose was to distract everyone else. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door just as you were fitting on a pair of matching ruby earrings. “Yn?”

“Just a second,” you said. You pushed the earring backing into place and hustled over to open the door. “I'm just finishing… hey.”

Changmin had changed into an all-black suit, a classic piece of uniform that was tailored perfectly to his proportions. His eyes were hooded and dark as he drank you in like a glass of Pinot Noir.

A low whistle drifted out from his lips. “If I'm being honest, you might be a liability in this dress.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, turning back to return to the bathroom counter.

Changmin trailed after you, almost dumbfounded, like he'd forgotten why he'd knocked on the door in the first place.

You tried to suppress your smile as you handed him his comb. “See something you like?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I do.”

Your expression shuttered in the mirror having not expected that reply at all.

Changmin cleared his throat, stepping to your side to fix his hair with practiced grace. In no time, his appearance was complete, and he was heading out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering by you.

When you were satisfied, you turned off the bathroom light on your way out to meet Changmin in the main room. He was by the safe, fitting a fresh magazine into a silver pistol with skilled hands. He felt your gaze on the weapon and passed you a glance. “We can't carry weapons into the room,” he told you, “but it's a good idea to have one ready here.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, though you felt your shoulders tighten.

He locked up the safe before making his way toward you. “Do you know how to use one of these?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It was never in my job description,” you said quietly. “I hope you don't have to use it.”

There was a graveness to his gaze now. “I hope I don't have to either.” Because both of you knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

The room where it happened was deep in the bowels of the hotel, somewhere below the casino floor and above the core of the earth. To get in, one was required an exclusive invitation, which was the item Changmin had received in the small parcel from earlier in the afternoon.

You and Changmin arrived on the scene arm in arm, your posture straight in an effort to come off as nonchalant. As you descended the velvet-lined stairs into the basement room, you were confronted by a pair of broad-shouldered bodyguards with body scanners in their hands. After retrieving Changmin's invitation, you were both scanned separately for security, before being granted entry.

The playing room was on the smaller side with a fully equipped bar on the furthest wall of the room. The centerpiece was an oval table, barred off with railings for spectators to lean on while the game was played. There were a sprinkling of others here, both players and their guests.

Your initial scan of the room, unsurprisingly, produced no familiar faces—but your arm tightened around Changmin's when you caught sight of the man of the hour. Le Chiffre stood on the opposite side of the room, nursing a coup glass of liquor as he spoke in low tones with another man. From this angle, you could see the cut of his one glassy eye and the angry scar that marred his face.

“Our four o'clock,” you muttered between your teeth to your counterpart.

Changmin glanced over out of his peripheral vision, nodding subtly. “How about a drink, sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice slightly louder than your own.

You gave a small smile, and he began to lead you over to the bar.

As the two of you moved, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes trailing after you, something akin to spidersilk clinging to your limbs that you could never quite brush off. It was no secret that you were one of the few women in the room.

When you reached the bar, Changmin flagged the bartender down. “A vodka martini, please—shaken, not stirred—and a mint julep for the lady.”

“Right away, sir.”

You looked over at Changmin with an impressed purse of your lips. “You remembered,” you mused.

The corner of his lip tilted upward. “How could I forget?”

With your drinks served to you, you gently sipped on your mint julep. It wouldn't do you well to get drunk tonight; you just needed a little liquid courage.

From your side, Changmin stared out into the crowd, likely assessing his opponents in the room. He made a small noise of consideration that made you prompt him. He answered lowly, “You see the man to our nine o'clock?—”

You followed his instructions and casted a single glance that way. At the other end of the bar stood a man in a gray suit, nursing a rum and coke in his hands as he assessed the room for himself.

“—Lee Juyeon. CIA.”

Your eyebrows flicked upward. “Interesting. Are they after our man, too?”

“Good chance that they are,” he said and raised his glass to his lips. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the empty glass behind him, leaning the elbow closest to you against the bar behind him. “Know how to play poker?”

“I’m more of a Go Fish girl, actually.”

He sputtered a laugh, and you smiled into your glass. “You're kidding. Not even a little?”

“Go fish, Mr. Ji,” you said and gestured to him with your glass. “Do tell though, since your boss seems to have so much faith in you. What's the secret to winning poker?”

You hadn't even realized how close your faces were tilted toward each other until you registered the smell of his drink on his breath and the shine on his lips. For a plot second, you swore his eyes even dared a glance away from your own.

Neither of you backed away from the other and remained in the intimate gray space.

“The secret?” He parroted, cocking an eyebrow. He tugged at his bottom lip. “The secret is figuring out what everyone else's tells are. It's about bluffing and strategy. If you can figure out how to tell when a person is lying, then you're practically set.”

You hummed. “I see. So what's my tell?”

“Your tell?” His gaze on you was hot and heavy as his eyes devoured you slowly but surely for yet another instance tonight. You could no longer ignore the rapid hammering of your heart, its insistent palpitations threatening to expose you to the man you swore could already see right through you.

His lips pulled into a slow smile, the kind you couldn't decide if it really was a smile or a smirk. “That’s for me to know, and you to figure out.”

“You don't know then.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

A hush fell over the room. You followed everyone's eyes up to the man who had summoned the room's attention. Le Chiffre stood atop the poker table's platform with a small laptop seated upon the table's edge.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the game,” he greeted coolly. “We will begin this evening's festivities with an introduction to our security protocols. This device—” he gestured to the computer, “—is fully secured to store and activate all of the night's betting money. Each player will enter a six-character code, unique to them, that will grant them access to the winning sum—should they win.”

A small murmur of laughter amongst the crowd; you didn't find it funny.

“We will begin with Mrs. Takeuchi.”

One by one, each of the players present tonight came forward to input a six-charactered passcode of their choosing. When Changmin was summoned forward, you watched as his expression became a careful, unreadable slate. He strode up toward the poker table, eyes never leaving Le Chiffre and Le Chiffre's never leaving Changmin. You could feel the tension in the room tighten, and Changmin confidently input his desired password.

When he pressed ENTER, you swore you could feel the fifteen million dollars being locked into the pot. Fifteen million was a shit ton of cash. The amount you were not willing to go beyond was twenty million. As long as Changmin played safe and played well, it wouldn't be a problem.

Not before long, the players were all summoned to the table. You sent Changmin off with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, and followed behind him to find a space at the railing to watch.

Changmin settled in the chair directly across from Le Chiffre.

The dealer passed out two cards to every player, each of whom hoarded a stack of chips and rectangular plaques that valued up to fifteen million. As the dealer revealed the four cards before him—two jokers, a king, and an ace—the game was on.

You weren't even sure what you were looking for, but the sinking feeling in your gut would not fade the entire game. You held onto your mint julep until it was drained, eyes trained on the cards lying face down in Changmin's hands as he watched Le Chiffre across from him like a hawk.

He was looking for his tell, you realized.

The match was tense. You couldn't pull your gaze away, for fear of missing some minute detail, even if each move made was technically quite large. In the beginning, however, it felt as though everyone was playing it safer, for fear of getting out too early.

The night was young, and it would do none of them any good if they lucked out of a pot of at least one hundred million.

You watched Changmin, who watched Le Chiffre. You noted the way Le Chiffre would occasionally bring his left hand up to his scarred eye… was that his tell?

It was nearing one hour when it was only Changmin and Le Chiffre who had yet to fold. The dealer called for Changmin to make his move, and you looked over to your counterpart as the gears turned and twisted in his mind.

“I'm all in,” he decided, and shifted his entire pile into the center, mounting up to some amount close to twelve million.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles to your lips in anticipation of Le Chiffre's move. The man did not cower, but rather, called his bet. He moved his pile of fourteen million to the center. All in.

“Gentlemen,” the dealer gestured for their cards to be revealed.

They flipped their cards into view—you could feel the scandal rocket through the crowd.

“A pair of jacks. Monsieur Le Chiffre wins. This marks the halfway point of the match; we will return in one hour to resume, with the big blind set at two hundred thousand.”

Everyone around the table, both players and spectators, began to dissipate to find something to distract them for the hour-long break.

Changmin's posture was taut as a bowstring as Le Chiffre pulled his mouth into a sly smirk across from him. “Ah, Mr. Ji. You must have interpreted my tell wrong. Off your game tonight, don't you think?”

A muscle feathered in the agent's jaw. “I wouldn't be so quick to boast,” he drawled. “The game's not over yet.”

You didn't know what to say, but you knew one thing was for certain—no matter what, you and Changmin could not let Le Chiffre leave tonight with the jackpot. And as Changmin departed the table with a crease between his brows but his head held high, you knew what was on his mind, as well.

“Need a drink?” You asked, as he met you where you stood.

Changmin shook his head. “No, I'm alright,” he said, glancing about. He nudged the back of your shoulder with his fingers, guiding you toward the exit. “Let's get out of this room for a moment though.”

You weren't going to argue with that decision, and the two of you linked arms and made your departure.

When the cool air in the lobby swept over you and all the tension in your body left for a brief moment of paradise. It was so stifling down in that room; you were almost thankful to be wearing this dress.

You and Changmin lingered at the top of the railing that looked down into the lobby from the second flood, heads close together. “What now?” You asked him.

“I need more money.”

“I can give you five million, but that's my limit, Changmin,” you told him firmly.

His brows crossed together. “Five million isn't enough to go toe to toe with a guy who just ended round one with thirty—”

“That's not my fault; this is policy.” You knew the world hung in the balance, but while that was his job, this was yours. You sighed. “Maybe I can contact someone about approving more, but right now, five million is our only option. Do we not have a plan B?”

Changmin's lips pressed into a line. “Plan B is hoping he does something fucking illegal in front of my face, and praying that reinforcements come in fast enough to take him away.”

Now it was your turn for your brows to crease. “Why do we have to wait for him to do something illegal? Don't we know he's a criminal?”

“We're onto him, yes, but there has been no tangible proof that he's a corrupt banker,” Changmin admitted tersely. He absentmindedly rubbed his jaw with his palm. “If we could just—”

“Ji.”

Both you and Changmin straightened. Coming toward you from down the hall was Lee Juyeon, the CIA agent Changmin had pointed out to you earlier.

You didn't fail to notice the way Changmin blocked you from Juyeon's view with his body. “Lee,” Changmin greeted back.

Juyeon nodded to you in hello with a warm smile, and you lifted your hand to wave. He seemed decent enough.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed as he shifted so he stood next to you now, an obvious arm slung around your waist. “I didn't know the CIA was on this.”

“I didn't know the MI6 was on this,” Juyeon fired back. He let out a sigh that sounded about as stressed as you were. “I wanted to propose a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well—” Juyeon cupped the back of his neck with one hand. “I'm not the most adept poker player,” he confessed. If you remembered correctly, he nearly lost half his money throughout round one—then again, Changmin lost all of his. According to Le Chiffre, it was because he had read his tell incorrectly; you must have interpreted the wrong one, too. “And I figured that I'm not going to be making enough right moves in the second round to even stand a chance against Le Chiffre. You've got the balls to go up against him, and I know you're down a few bucks, so I wanted to bow out of the round and stake you instead.”

Both you and Changmin glanced at one another in surprise.

Juyeon was backing out… and wanted to stake Changmin? Stake, meaning to invest or sponsor him; to give Changmin funds.

Changmin's eyes narrowed. “And what would I do for you in return?”

“You would give the CIA Le Chiffre.”

What other choice did you and Changmin have? Five million was not enough to make a winning comeback; at least being sponsored would give Changmin enough cushion to make some more mistakes. The allyship between your governments was enough to make the CIA taking Le Chiffre in the end seem like a victory.

Changmin exhaled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

The second round was no less tense than the first. Changmin entered with more determination and fury than before, and Le Chiffre was no short of amusement and arrogance.

After Juyeon made his official departure from the game, he came to stand by you to spectate and offer insights wherever he could. The game chugged on by for another half hour with bets being placed, drinks being sipped, and money being exchanged.

You watched Changmin reach for his glass again, only to pause. There was a moment where you didn't breathe, and you watched his hand retract up toward his shirt collar to loosen it.

“Something wrong, Mr. Ji?” Le Chiffre asked.

You squinted at him, disliking the sinking feeling that had returned to your gut.

“Break,” Changmin suddenly called out, as he stumbled out of his seat and pushed out of the room in a hurry.

Eyes widened, you bolted after him, leaving Juyeon to wonder what had happened to Changmin.

You called out to your partner as he stumbled into the elevator, and you crashed in after him. “Oh my—fuck. What the fuck happened?” You asked as Changmin toppled over into you, sweat dripping down his face and his skin growing more and more flushed.

You jammed the button for your floor in a hurry as you attempted to hold him upright. “God, you're heavy, man—”

“Poison,” he choked out, practically ripping his shirt collar open, as if it was constricting his breathing. He gasped for air and clung onto you like a lifeboat.

Panic seized you by the heart and squeezed hard. “Oh my god. Okay—uhm, okay. What do we do? Changmin, what do we do?”

The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and you half dragged Changmin toward your room. “The—the antid—antidote—”

“The antidote! We have an antidote?” You didn't have time to question him as you retrieved your room card from within your dress and barged into the hotel suite.

You deposited Changmin onto the floor as quickly and carefully as you could, hands shaking as you helped to take his shirt off so he could breathe.

“Safe,” he gasped to you.

“The safe? Fuck, what's the code?” You asked, clambering to your feet and racing over to the black box in the wall.

You heard him choke out the four digits, and the safe swung open without ceremony. You rifled around the contents and retrieved an aluminum foil packet with a slim syringe inside. “Found it!” You cried and practically slid across the floor to get back to him.

You ripped the packet open as Changmin's breathing continued to shallow, his skin paling, and his body growing weaker. His left palm had landed somewhere on his thigh—inject here.

“Shit,” you swore, grimacing to yourself before stabbing the syringe into his leg.

As soon as the liquid was gone, all you could do was pray.

But the storm clouds were beginning to clear, and color slowly returned to Changmin's face. You sank back onto your heels, relief and adrenaline coursing through you.

“Fucking hell, that was a close—”

White hot pain flashed through you as something—someone—grabbed you by your hair and yanked. Your scream pierced through the silence, and it was nearly enough to wake the dead.

They were dragging you backward toward the door, and you reached up to claw at their hands, your skull feeling as if it was being pulled into a million directions while being set ablaze, all at once.

“Let—go!” You screeched, thrashing around. You couldn't see your captor, but they suddenly released their grip on you.

Relief was short-lived.

Your head whipped to the side as a shoe met your cheek. Stars danced in your vision, and you cried out in pain—and then you begged. You were certain Changmin was still recovering, hardly in a state to save you, and desperation began to claw itself into your heart.

Your body was hoisted up beneath your armpits and you squirmed, fighting for your life.

For a second, you were sure you heard Changmin call out your name.

You threw your elbow back into your attacker's face, then tried the back of your head—the sound of pain and bones cracking echoing in your eardrum.

“You bitch!” They roared, loosening their grip to feel their broken nose.

You were a mess as you landed on the ground. A gleam of silver caught your eye. The gun.

Adrenaline seized you and you made a mad dash for the table where the gun was stowed beneath.

Your opponent caught your ankle and dragged you back down to earth. There was no time to mourn over bruised knees and limbs, and you kicked your heels out behind you in a blind fury, desperate to get away.

“Yn—”

“Please,” you screamed, begged. Whoever that was—you just wanted this to end. Fear coursed through you as your body began moving backwards and was dragged back to the door.

You dug your fingers against the polished ground, unsuccessfully gaining purchase. You clutched at a chair leg and dragged it along with you, and felt the hand around your ankle tighten—

With all your strength, you took the chair and heaved it back toward your captor. He let out a garbled swear, only agitated by your continued resistance. The hand around your ankle disappeared and you took it as an opportunity to get away.

“Not so fast.”

Your body hit the ground, the back of your head making purchase against stone. This time, you saw your assailant—he was one of the guards from earlier, likely working under Le Chiffre's orders. Blood dribbled down his lower face, courtesy of your retaliation.

“I should just kill you here and now,” he growled and enclosed his meaty hands around your neck. “Won't make a difference.”

You struggled against him, but to no avail. Your windpipe was being crushed and your vision blurred.

You thrashed and scratched and kicked—this was the end. Oh god, was this the end?—

A shot rang out.

Air slowly began seeping into your airway and you hacked a cough around the hands that had fallen away from your throat.

The dead body above you was heavy and sticky, and the smell of iron permeated your nose like a nightmare. You didn't even realize your cheeks were damp until you blinked and tears filled your eyes.

You nearly died just then.

With a suppressed sob, you shoved the dead body off you with all of your remaining strength.

There, by the table, was Changmin and the smoking gun in his hand. He still looked only half conscious, but he'd managed to get himself to sit up with pure willpower, enough to reach the gun stashed beneath the table, and to aim and fire a shot.

The room was quiet for a few moments, other than the persistent ringing in your ears.

Then you let yourself cry—it shook through your body and shoulders in violent sobs.

Changmin's chest clenched painfully at the sound, and the gun clattered out of his hand so he could crawl his way over to you. His hair, his face, his clothes were all dampened in sweat and the empty syringe laid abandoned on the floor. He made it over to where you were, the red of your dress mixed with the blood of a dead man, and held your body close to his.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered against your hair, lips pressed against your crown. “You’re okay; we're okay now,” he promised.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Changmin sat himself upright and let your body lean against him. You grappled onto him so tightly, as if he might slip out of your grasp.

It was almost thirty minutes later that you and Changmin returned to the poker game. With some gentle coaxing, he got you into the shower to wash the blood away, but you couldn't get the icky feeling clinging to you. He'd been gentle, though, letting you sit beneath the stream in your dress as he got onto the shower floor with you to run the water and soap through your hair.

In his hold, he rocked you gently through the tremors. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” he rasped. Never again, not if he could help it.

You'd never seen him like that—all the tenderness in his gaze out in the open.

And you'd only seen it when you glanced up at him once; the rest of the time, you tucked your chin to your knees, staring at a tile.

Unnerved but still alive, you entered the room with another clean dress, and Changmin with another clean set of clothes. You returned to your place beside Juyeon, and Changmin went back to the table to face Le Chiffre.

Le Chiffre, however, looked as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes had widened just a millimeter, but it was enough.

Changmin dragged up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a predatorial-like gleam in his eyes. You almost killed me. Even worse, you dared to lay a dirty hand on her. “Sorry about that,” he drawled, gaze lifting to meet Le Chiffre's, “seemed that last hand nearly killed me.”

His opponent swallowed.

The game resumed.

With the final phase in play, the dealer announced that there could be no more buy-ins. Juyeon had fetched you a drink, which you were most grateful for, and Changmin avoided all beverages for the remainder of the game.

“Everything alright?” Juyeon asked you quietly as you chugged your drink.

“Perfectly.” You handed the drink off to a waiter nearby and smiled tightly. “We were just strategizing on how to murder this game.” You hoped he didn't hear the tremor in your voice.

As the final round approached, each of the four finalists that were left alive were asked to make their bets. Each player slowly, but surely, slid all of their remaining chips into the center.

Everyone was all in.

“Reveal your cards, if you please.”

One by one, the cards in each player's hand was turned. The room held its collective breath as Le Chiffre revealed an ace and a six—a fuller house, with three aces and two sixes.

All that was left were Changmin's.

With little more than an arched brow, he slid his cards apart: a five and seven, both of which were spades. When joined together with the rest, they made—

“A straight flush,” announced the dealer. “Monsieur Ji wins the game.”

Cheers and applause rang out throughout the room as the game finally came to a close. Relief soared through you, and you shook hands with Juyeon at Changmin's success. Perhaps twenty million had been spent, but it all meant that you had won back that money in full.

From your standpoint, you couldn't see Le Chiffre's reaction, but he didn't look pleased. He stormed out of the room only moments later.

Changmin was swift to join the two of you, his hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “We should go after him,” he said.

Juyeon nodded, expression sobering. “You're right.”

“I'm going with you,” you told him. Already anticipating his refusal, you shut him down with a look. Though you might have been shaken from the night's near-death experience, it only seemed to steel over your resolve to catch this bastard. “I'm safer with you; don't try to argue with me.”

He knew you were right—you saw the reluctant agreement in his eyes. He grunted, “Okay, but you're staying behind me the entire time and when I say run, you better run.”

You patted his chest and followed after Juyeon. “Of course.”

The three of you raced after Le Chiffre in the direction he disappeared. He'd gone up to the second floor via the grand staircase in the lobby, but neither you nor the other boys knew which direction he went from there. The second floor was damn near close to a labyrinth.

“We split up,” Changmin declared. “Me and Yn go one way and Juyeon takes the other.”

“Wait, Juyeon goes alone?” You butted in. “Le Chiffre is dangerous and desperate; that combination isn't good for anybody.”

“None of us have any weapons either,” Juyeon pointed out.

Changmin gestured to you. From beneath the skirt of your new dress, you withdrew the pistol from earlier out into the light. After what happened in your suite, the both of you thought it best to let security measures be damned and holster a gun to your inner thigh. And now, it was proving to be the right decision.

Juyeon deadpanned, amending, “I don't have a weapon.”

“Then you should go get one,” Changmin said smartly. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I—shit.” Juyeon huffed in frustration. “Goddamn it. You better hold your promise, Ji.”

“My word is gold,” Changmin swore as you passed him the pistol. “We'll find Le Chiffre; you call for backup.”

With that matter settled, you grabbed Changmin's hand and set off in one direction.

His fingers tightened around you as you stuck close behind him. The corridor was hauntingly quiet with not a soul around. You and Changmin trudged onward and kept your eyes and ears open for anybody hiding behind a corner or waiting to enact revenge on your poker victory tonight.

The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect, heart thundering loudly in your ears.

So loud, that you almost missed it.

You caught Changmin's eyes. Did you hear that?

There it was—it sounded like voices coming from a room further down the hall.

“—please, just a few more weeks, and I can get you your money back!”

A muffled response in return.

“NO! I swear, I'll do better! I have another i—”

You never heard the end of Le Chiffre's offer. There was only the sound of a metallic swish, followed by a dull weight hitting the ground. A body.

Your breath hitched as you and Changmin looked around wildly for a swift exit or cover. There was an emergency stairwell just a few doors down.

Changmin grabbed you and booked it.

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed you against the open doorway, eyes flickering somewhere behind you to watch the door the voices had come from.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, eyes furiously searching your own.

You didn't have to think about it. “Yes.”

Just as a door opened in the hallway, Changmin cupped your jaw with his hand, braced himself against the doorway with the other, and kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered closed upon immediate impact and you felt your heart leap into your throat. His lips moved gently against your own, as if afraid of breaking you, and his hand moved down from your jaw to wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.

One moment you were melting into his embrace, and the next, he was shoving you behind the other side of the doorway for cover.

A war cry rang out—not Changmin, you realized—as a body blurred past you and was thrown into the stairwell's metal railing. Your soul nearly left your body, head turning in time to throw yourself out of the way of the incoming bodies.

Changmin brawled and grappled on the floor with a second man, a silver machete glistening in the dim light, only a few centimeters from his throat. The first man was slowly beginning to stand up, and your eyes tracked where Changmin's gun had skidded to the floor.

You swiped the gun up just as Changmin wrestled his opponent off him.

With adrenaline powering through you, you smashed the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. He crumpled to the cement—unconscious.

“Here,” you breathed, helping Changmin to his feet and shoving the gun into his hand.

He shook his dizziness away, eyes widened on something behind you. “YN, DUCK!”

You swore, and dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the arc of the first man's machete attempting to remove the head from your shoulders.

You dove down the first set of stairs to get out of the way of the fight, your knees and hands scraping against the cement and bruising.

The man with the machete attacked Changmin with reckless abandon, swinging his blade and striking the railing to make sparks fly. Changmin had no opening to use his firearm and—oh shit. They were coming this way.

“Yn, you better be fucking running.”

He didn't need to tell you twice. You tumbled down more stairs, ditching your heels as you went. You would be useless in this fight, so your best action would be to get the fuck out of the way.

Changmin's breath flew out of his chest as he hit the wall hard, then stuck his hands out in time to stop the assassin from impaling his head on the sword. Changmin drove his knee into his stomach, then threw him across the stairs to the opposite landing.

The fight clambered on down the spiral stairwell, metal clashing against metal, and bone and flesh grinding against stone. Changmin gritted his teeth as he fumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the opposing wall with even more momentum.

He ducked—and missed another swing; and another; and another.

There was a kick to his gut, and his body went flying. His assailant took a leaping start and charged. Changmin grabbed at his hands again, desperately attempting to wrestle the machete away.

The weapon went sailing; that was his opening.

With pure adrenaline, Changmin fisted the man's shirt and flung him over whatever railing was left. You cursed as his body hit the basement floor with a thump.

Changmin tackled him as he attempted to climb to his feet. With the violent thrashing, Changmin ended up beneath him, his arm wrapped tightly around his opponent's neck, and he squeezed.

The man's arm flopped about, desperately reaching for the gun that scattered onto the floor from all the ruckus. If he could just reach it—

You lunged for the gun, tripping as the man clawed at your ankle to throw you off. You shrieked, swinging the barrel at his hand to knock it away.

When you finally managed to scramble backward, you watched the light fade in the assassin's eyes.

As soon as the man slumped in death, Changmin loosened his grip and crawled out from beneath the body.

You clambered over to him and helped him to his feet, his joints and muscles screaming as he attempted to straighten. He groaned, white-knuckling the railing, “Fucking hell.”

“Are you okay? Holy shit, Changmin,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to hold him up. There had been too many close calls there.

You passed a glance over at the corpse lying on the floor about a meter away from you. A shudder rippled down your spine, and you felt Changmin's hand on your forearm, like he knew.

From up above, you heard the sound of the stairwell door opening. The two of you peered straight upwards as a familiar face peered over the landing.

“Le Chiffre's dead,” said Juyeon. In his hand was a pistol; it seemed he finally retrieved his firearm.

“No shit,” you and Changmin replied simultaneously, chests heaving up and down in laborious panting.

Juyeon blinked, squinting his eyes to take in your appearances. “What the fuck happened to you guys?”

“Careful,” you called up to him, “that guy isn't dead.”

Juyeon jolted and he considered the body at his feet with new awareness.

You threw one of Changmin's arms around you to begin the ascent back up. “Can you—fuck. Is that yours?” You swore for the thousandth time tonight as you peered over at the growing dark splotch of red seeping through Changmin's shirt.

He hung his head as strength rapidly bled out of him with his own life force, and you carefully laid Changmin down on the ground.

“Juyeon!” You called out. “Juyeon, help!”

You heard rapid footsteps in the distance, but it faded to background noise as you ripped open Changmin's shirt and came face to face with the vicious knife wound in his abdomen. “Oh my god,” you whispered. God, there was so much blood.

“Cover the wound, Yn,” Juyeon said to you as he leapt down the final steps. “Fuck, this looks bad.”

“He must not have begun to feel it until the adrenaline was over,” you reasoned in a desperate attempt to keep your head on straight. Per Juyeon's instructions, you pressed your palms over the wound, bile rising in your throat from all the blood. “Changmin—Changmin, come on. Stay with me.”

He murmured something you couldn't hear, and you leaned your ear down over his lips. “Come on, talk to me, love. Tell me something, anything.”

His voice came out, barely there. “I'm… I'm glad I got—I got to see you again.”

And he would see you again. That was a promise you made to yourself, and to him, as Juyeon called for his reinforcements and you clung onto Ji Changmin's life with your own.

When Changmin came to, it was bright enough to blind him. There was a fuckass beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wrinkling his face into a grimace. There was a violent throbbing in his abdominal area that ached when he attempted to roll over or sit up.

Was he dead?

“You're not dead.”

His body immediately relaxed into the sheets he was settled in. When his eyes grew accustomed to the god awful amount of light in the room, he was met by the sight of your face, silhouetted against the sun, and beautiful. “Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're an angel.”

Your palm came over to rest against his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut. “You must still have that fever,” you teased.

When you both shared a laugh, he opened his eyes again.

It seemed he was in a hospital room—well, something akin to that. It looked more like a small bedroom was transformed into one, and he laid on the bed with a heart rate monitor hooked up to him on the side. You perched on the edge of his bed with a cardigan draped over your frame, and something soft in your eyes.

No, he was definitely in heaven. Maybe he didn't die, but he was in heaven.

Your expression sobered as your hand drifted down to caress the side of his face. “You lost a lot of blood,” you whispered. “I was really worried about you.”

Changmin brought his hand up to gently take your wrist and turn your palm inward, his lips meeting your hand in a butterfly kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm alright now, see?” He intertwined your fingers, missing the feeling of how they felt interlocked in the hotel hallway.

The hotel hallway—the fight—Le Chiffre—the kiss. His lips seared at the memory, and he fought the urge to touch his lips at the phantom sensation.

“What happened?” He croaked out instead, gazing up at you. His heart tugged against its confines when he made out the shape of dark purple smudged against your cheekbone. It was the bruise forming from the guard who came after you, and it made Changmin ache to see.

Hurt, you'd been so hurt.

You shifted your body so you could tuck your feet onto the bed, too. “Juyeon came with reinforcements and we got you out of there as soon as possible. One of Le Chiffre's clients killed him—the guys you fought with in the stairwell. Apparently he'd used their money to buy into the game, and because he wasn't able to win, they killed him.”

Changmin stared up at the eggshell-colored ceiling. He supposed that would have been the tangible evidence needed to convict Le Chiffre, but his client was faster at acting as judge, jury, and executioner.

“M's on her way to meet with you,” you continued, your thumb gently tracing dizzying circles onto the back of his hand.

“To be expected,” he chuckled. He glanced back up at you. “How are you? Were you hurt at all?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing to your extent. There were a few scratches and bruises, but nothing time won't heal.”

“And everything else?” Your mental state, especially after all you went through, could not have been in a terrific place. If he could have prevented you from experiencing any of what happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.

The pure fear that speared through his chest when he thought you were about to die…

He had long since figured out that what he felt for you was not simply platonic. It was more—he yearned for more. Seeing you again after so long just made it worse.

You made a noncommittal noise. “I'll… I'll be alright.”

For a moment, the room filled with only silence and the white noise from the heart rate monitor. You suddenly perked up at something, and turned to reach over to grab an item from the side table. Changmin recognized the small laptop device from the poker game now seated on your lap.

“The money pit from the game was stored in escrow in a Swiss bank. A representative from the bank delivered this to us,” you explained, showing him the screen. It left room for a passcode to be filled in. “To the victor go the spoils, love.”

The nickname made him shudder and he forced himself into an upright position.

“Changmin—”

“I got it,” he countered and stubbornly gritted his teeth through the pain until he was seated against the headboard next to you. He clutched his injury, head knocked back against the wood. “Well? Wanna guess the password?”

You lifted your brows in amusement. “Do you know how many six letter combinations exist out there? For all I know, it was a random keyboard smash.”

He chuckled lowly, leaning his chin against your shoulder. “S.”

We're really doing this? You seemed to ask with the expression on your face. You humored him, though, pressing down on the S key.

“W.”

The letters that followed amounted to S-W-T-H-R-T. You were quiet for a second as you stared at the final combination; you didn't want to press the enter key just yet.

Changmin murmured against your shoulder. “I'm not one for corny messages, but that's a 'sweetheart’ if I've ever seen one.”

You were still quiet as you pressed enter and unlocked the winner's pot. There was no special celebration, no balloons or confetti—just a solid number with too many zeroes for your little heart to handle. Perhaps, in the end, there really was no amount of money in the world that could buy your company. Not if you freely gave it, at least.

Changmin felt his chest lurch. “Yn, sweetheart, say something.” He leaned off your shoulder so you could turn your body to face him, the laptop returning to its place on the side table.

“What should I say?” You asked, your fingers playing with his own in your two hands.

“I'm sorry if the kiss was too much.”

You faltered for a second. “It, uhm, it wasn't too much. I actually thought that it was nice.”

“You did?” He hated the way hope made him feel, how it made his heart sprout wings—maybe he was dead.

A small smile crawled onto your lips and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Maybe I did.” You raised a hand to the side of your face, an embarrassed groan falling out of your mouth. “God, I feel like a teenager with a crush again.”

“Giddy?”

“Pathetic,” you teased. You leaned your head against the headboard again as you looked over at him with the most beautiful gleam in your eyes he had ever seen.

He never understood the romanticizing of someone's eyes—what else had he ever discerned but fear or boredom? But he could hear your laugh just by seeing your smile reach your eyes, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest and making electricity zip down his spine from the tenderness in your irises.

He swallowed hard. “If you feel pathetic, then I am literally chopped liver,” he said. A surge of courage, the kind that was a trademark of his reputation, propelled his next words: “I'd like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes darted to his lips and he clung onto that detail as if he were hanging by a thread. “Because you saved the world, Agent 007, you can kiss the girl,” you mused.

You leaned over him slightly and cupped the back of his head, mouth meeting his own in a familiar dance. Even with his injury, he pushed back to meet you, and ignored the throbbing in his stomach, so he could haul you closer, over, around him. Anything to get you pressed up against him.

Real—you were real, and you were alive, and so was he.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! omg that permanent taglist looks SCARY 😭😭😭

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @deobi0412 @sunramzi @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @dearly-somber @empire-x @kflixnet

beyond the horizon

Characters: Jongho & You

Setting: Star Wars au

Genre: adventure, action

Summary: They say the end is just a faraway beginning and running away from the planet you had known as your only home just to join the most famous smuggler of your generation in the entire Galactic Empire, you are sure up to one kind of an adventure.

Warnings: space fights I guess

Words: 2.6k

Happy b-day my dearest @lily-blue​! Please remember to take good care of yourself (both your health and mental being), keep smiling, try to be positive and look the bright side of things! Don’t forget I love you the way you are! (Also embrace the fact that there are handsome 00-liner boys out there as they are not that much younger than you than you are compared to me…)

Keep reading

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

Menace (m.yg)

When you learn of a hostage within the confines of the abandoned apartment building downtown, you weren’t expecting it to be Min Yoongi, the most wanted man in the country by gangs and policemen alike.  or the one where yoongi wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a situation with his own enemy, nor was he prepared to be kept alive by and ultimately infatuated with one that calls herself Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend. 

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give gangster yoongi a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 11k

PAIRING― gangster!yoongi x afab reader

CONTENT― yoongi is mad that he has to be submissive sexually, smut, grotesque descriptions of blood and gore, food mentions, you’re still really soft despite being surrounded by killers. FYI: the use of the word brother in this fic is not indicating that the characters are blood related.

SIDE CHARACTERS― namjoon as the leader of a gang and also your boyfriend, jungkook as a fellow gang member on your end. 

WARNINGS― namjoon is fucking awful, yoongi is a lil mean but still a big softie, intense descriptions of starvation, torture methods, and broken fingers, mentions of suicide, mentions of r*pe (in passing), mentions of killing methods like drowning, stabbing, shooting, catching on fire. fr, this fic is very unsavory but they still fuck so, take that as you will. 

NOTE― listen. this started as a different idea and ended as this so, fr,  don’t even read it. if you do, just be aware that I am not responsible for the content you consume, i’m just responsible for being down bad enough to write it :) if you send me an off hand message you will be blocked for not knowing how to avoid content you don’t like. bye  (p.s. we are just gonna pretend that people do not need to use the bathroom in this fic bc im not about to find a work around to let this man relieve himself. no piss or shit will be mentioned in this fic or in any of my fics ever. thanks.) 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pain, making out, frottage, biting, dirty talk, mocking, uh….getting turned on by the idea of Namjoon dying, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of eating pussy, mentions of multiple orgasms

~

The leaking ceiling was somehow nicer sounding than the one in his apartment, and his bruised ribs feel less painful now that he’s laid here for three days on the cold and molded floor. Plenty of time to heal, plenty of time to think, and plenty of time to build up a distinct type of rage within his body. 

If he hadn’t made that tiny mistake, he would be at the shop surrounded by faces that are sworn to protect him. He would be swimming in money, women, and eating only the finest delicacies this city has to offer. But no, he had to trust the wrong fucking person. 

It was impressive actually, that the man going by the name of “John” managed to slip through the cracks. Yoongi grew fond of him quickly, especially with how eager the newcomer was to kill and maim not only alongside him, but for him without a single doubt. 

He should have known that he was experienced, especially with the way he killed, with the way he drank, with the way he fucked every woman accepted in the confines of the hideout. He should have known that he was in a gang already, and that said group had been out to get him for years.

Jungkook was his real name. A man who had been given endearing nicknames from both himself and other high-ranking men within this gang. He answered most to the name of “Jojo”, looking Yoongi dead in the eye with vicious intent and loyalty. He was a good liar, better than himself, apparently.

Yoongi really messed up, learning the truth only when he was met with Namjoon, face to face and battered up black and blue before being restrained and left in this unknown location. Naturally, there is a type of rage within him right now that could kill a large sum of men in one breath. 

Unfortunately, he can’t. His wrists have been bound in the same position for three days, and he has still been unable to unbind them. His legs are numb from the stomping, but still working through the intense pain of his attempts at slithering across the floor to find a new spot on the cold ground. 

The room is empty, there is nothing save for a chair in the corner and a doorknob that remains locked. There is only a single window, both the walls and floor are concrete and cinderblocks, and the only sound he’s heard since his last broken finger cracked through his ears, is the sound of that fucking water dripping. 

He lifts his head, only to drop it back to the floor in a huff. Not quite in a sound of defeat, but more so a sound of frustration. Surely the men who did this have already been killed, surely his loyal friends are searching for him. Surely–

A new sound. 

Yoongi can barely comprehend hearing something other than the slow and consistent drip, drip, drip of the ceiling leaking just a few feet from him. He’s grown weak within the three days he spent here, delirious even. No food and only those very drips of water to quench his sore and dried out throat. That sound is familiar though, and his drowsy eyes can hardly make sense of it. 

Then another new sound. Something clicking. Echoing through these empty walls and meshing with the two other sounds, creating a new song in his head that somehow seems like bliss. 

He thinks hard about the tune in his head, wondering if it’s similar to a song he knows, or if he’s just going insane from the feeling of his stomach both healing and starving. It is too much sensation for him, as he curls up in a pathetic little ball of a person and wonders what the others would think to see him like this.

He lays there, thinking about those sounds becoming louder and louder before his eyes shoot open in realization.

Those are footsteps.

An immediate headache hits him when he forces his body up, sitting uncomfortable on the floor with his arms still twisted behind his back. He stares at the door in wait, wondering if it’ll be his brothers bursting through, or an enemy. 

When that door opens though, his face twists similar to the way it did when he was getting held down and his fingers snapped to the side. 

“F-” he tries to say upon seeing Jungkook for the first time since it all went down, but his throat is too dry to speak and he coughs instead. 

“Happy to see me?” Jungkook smiles, stepping to the side to reveal another person with him. 

Yoongi glares, not paying attention even the slightest to the person standing just behind him. That clicking sound matched her shoes, so pristine against this dirty floor. He doesn’t dare speak again, as his eyes trail down to the gun in Jungkook's hand, and then shift to the side at the plastic bag in her hand. 

He can make out a bottle, and possibly, food. He won’t grove for it though, no. 

~

“Damn, you guys really fucked  him up. I never thought you actually caught him.” You smile in an uneasy way, walking back alongside Jungkook and making your way out of the building. 

“Told you we got him. Namjoon seemed really pleased, you think he’s finally going to let me into the circle?” Jungkook’s shining eyes somehow seem innocent with that question as you look at him. 

“If he wasn’t fond of you, he wouldn’t have let you escort me here,” You start, lowering your sunglasses from your head to your eyes to avoid the bright sunlight once you step outside. “He would have brought me himself. You’re already in.”

“You certainly complained enough wanting to see, I was shocked he even let you this time, even more shocked that he asked me to bring you.” 

Jungkook smiles again, wanting to pat himself on the back for his hard and dedicated work to Namjoon. He’s a harsh man but one that he wants on his side nonetheless. If this is going to be his life he’d rather be sitting in the room drinking expensive liquor than out running the streets and committing petty crimes. 

This was his deal and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t fuck it up again. He was very nearly kicked out, and by kicked out, he means killed by Namjoon himself. Why? Well, as experienced as he is at killing, fighting, and being an asshole, he wasn’t too experienced with smuggling substances across country lines. 

He got it easy though, thankfully being caught by one of them that resides within the government factions. Then again, that man ran straight to Namjoon and complained on his name, stating that they were all at risk of being caught if it wasn’t for the nim-witted officer he was stationed with that night. 

Started off well enough, Jungkook coughed the wrong way and his hands shook slightly. The officer immediately wanted to search the vehicle. Thankfully, one of theirs took over, and what did he find? Exactly what was he knew would be there.

Namjoon was pissed at the situation. Hauling Jungkook in as if he were one of their hostages, towering above him on the floor and tipping his head back with the heel of his expensive boot. 

“What should I do with you now?” Namjoon said to him, huffing in a gutteral way out of frustration. “You’re telling me you can kill three men without breaking a sweat but you can’t get through a security check without shivering in fear?!” 

Jungkook knows better than to speak, he simply nods. 

“You’re lucky it went down the way it did, and you’re lucky your cousin put in a good word for you.” Namjoon continued, crouching down to Jungkook’s level on the floor and looking him in the eye. “If you fuck this one up, you’re done.” 

Honestly, he couldn’t believe the kindness Namjoon gave to him. He’s known for having a temper, and he’s known for being unforgiving, but he got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 

That deal was to run off and act much like he did while trying to smuggle those drugs. Be a puppy for another gang, get close, get in with the crowd, and then get Min Yoongi. The man who killed Namjoon’s closest brother  some four years ago. His grudge never left, and unfortunately, Yoongi was very nearly untouchable. 

Jungkook did his duty, and now, he’s in. The girlfriend of Namjoon himself said so and with that, he can’t help but feel proud when he sees that man suffering in the room alone. He can’t help but be happy as he escorts you back to Namjoon. Truly, he can’t help it. 

~ 

“We can’t just starve him.” You argue another three days after you last saw proof of the man confined in that abandoned building. 

“This is why I forbid you from seeing the hostages. ” Namjoon tries not to argue with you, but it’s gotten to the point that you really just need to sit down and shut up about it. “He killed the only other man I could trust, and you want me to give him a fucking menu?” 

“Well, no but,” You start, but Namjoon cuts you off. 

“That’s enough. If you’re so worried about him tell Jungkook to swing by with some dog food.” 

You look to the floor with a short nod, knowing for a fact that this is just the way it goes. You figured your boyfriend would want to strangle the man with his bare hands rather than let him rot away slowly. There’s too many opportunities for Yoongi to be found there, and far too many variables in the situation. The least he can have is a meal before he dies, right? 

Then again, you know you’re quite soft despite the lifestyle you live. Min Yoongi is not a good man, but he is still a man. You’re a bit curious about him too. He was kind of cute even as he sat on that floor battered, so those rumors about him being easy on the eyes were true. Not that a scale of attractiveness really matters, considering he’s killed people from this family with a smile on his face. 

You think hard that night, alone in bed as Namjoon probably mingles around the club he recently took control of. Imagining how awful the hostage must feel, all alone in the dark. It  has you thinking a bit too hard about what it means to be human. You know where that apartment building is, and you know where the nearest convenience store is. Jungkook already knows you tried to feed him once and it didn’t work (because Yoongi kicked it across the floor out of spite.), so you’re unsure of how it would go down if you went alone.

Still, it’s not like you’d be in any danger, not when you grab one of the guns and slide it into an empty purse. 

~

Arriving at the building feels scarier than it did when Jungkook was with you. It’s dark, and you can hear creaking as the wind picks up and rain begins to fall. Still, you take a deep breath and rush inside with another offer of food. 

You follow your footsteps from before. Left, left, down a flight of stairs, right, and left. The hallway that contains his prison feels much longer than before, and the sound of rain is nearly muted at this point. You feel as if you’re buried deep within a tomb, with a flashy and loud bag of snacks for a man that killed your boyfriend’s brother. 

It feels silly, but you still think you could at least try to communicate with him. However stupid this decision is, you pay no mind.

When you get to the door, the room is so dark and quiet that you wonder if you either picked the wrong room or he’s dead already. Still, you flip on the flashlight you grabbed and place it on the chair in the corner, shining it directly at the man lying on the floor. 

You take a moment to look around and smile slightly when you notice the food he kicked from him before has been eaten. Surely that pack of crackers and bottled water wasn’t enough, but it’s all Jungkook would let slide without fearing for his life again. 

“Hi.” You say in a peppy voice, seemingly in a much better spot than he is and accidentally making it more obvious. 

Yoongi groans, rolling over to look at you briefly before letting his head fall back to the floor. 

“I brought food again. There’s more this time.” You smile when you say it, shaking the bag as if Yoongi truly were a dog that would jump and do tricks for the food. “It’s against the rules, and I’m not supposed to be here so I suggest you fucking appreciate it this time.”

He rolls his eyes as he lies there, weak and hardly able to move. He does try though, more willing now to grovel, more willing to do just about anything for food so he can at least get his thoughts straight. 

You watch him struggle to sit up, and only now realize that he really is dying. He’s actually starving and probably can’t simply appreciate the food if he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up. 

“Do you need some help?” You ask, walking around and shining the light at his face.

You’re taken aback by his eyes. They’re dull and lifeless as he gives a small nod. You can see that he’s silently pleading. 

“Ah, right. Starvation and all that.” You say with a pained laugh, grabbing the bag and scooting it next to him before crouching down and trying to lift him up.

His body is horrendously lightweight, and something inside of you twists at the feeling of him slumped in your arms. You hold him there, listening to his pained groans as you glance around the room and start to drag him. 

“Here, sit up,” You say, propping him against the wall and going back for the bag. “I’ve got two sandwiches, two bottles of water, and an ibuprofen.”

You see his pained and choked chuckle at the mention of an ibuprofen, as if that’s a bandaid for the immense amount of anguish he’s been feeling. Still, he relishes in the feeling of another person being near him. The energy alone helps him keep his eyes open. 

“Can you chew?” You ask, looking at him as you unwrap a sandwich and try to place it against his lips. “Um,” 

You feel defeated seeing someone in this state so closely. Regardless of what he’s done, you feel pity and slight disgust of his treatment. No wonder Namjoon forbids you most of the time from meeting hostages or looking at crime scenes as if it were a zoo for your entertainment. 

“You must feel awful,” You whisper, trying again to push the sandwich past his lips. “Can you eat this for me?” 

He tries. Opening his mouth and feeling the sensation of taste. His mouth waters and burns at the sudden feeling, drool running out of the sides of his lips as he tries to work up the energy to chew. His throat is too dry to swallow though, and he chokes on the barely chewed piece of sandwich.

You’re quick to grab a bottle of water and tilt his head back. You grab his cheeks and hold his head steady and his mouth open, pouring a bit of the water into his mouth and watching how long it takes for him to swallow both the food and the water. 

“God, I know I should be hating you but this really is pitiful.” You comment, feeling as if you’re already talking to a corpse.

In a way you are, and you hate it. So maybe, knowing that Namjoon intends to leave this man here unbothered and unfed until he’s dead, surely you can…you know…help the situation.

~

On one end, you’re betraying an entire gang of men and women who have protected you for years. You’re betraying your boyfriend, the leader of that gang, but…humanity still exists within you. Since that night, feeding a viscous killer, you couldn’t stop thinking of the state he was in.

You knew Namjoon was a killer but he never let you see that side of him. You saw Yoongi once three days after his capture and he still looked alive and well despite being heavily beaten. And just those three days later, you saw how much the world seemed to have forgotten him.

You have heard whispers of the rival gang searching for him, but they have been met with no luck. You appear to be his only saving grace, which is a terrifying place to have put yourself in. Still, if they’re going to kill him, you’d rather they just shoot him in the head and leave it at that. 

You’re meddling where you shouldn’t be, and you still have no idea why you feel compelled to do it. 

On the other end, you find yourself in deep shit when you continue to visit Yoongi late at night to essentially undo what your boyfriend has ordered. You notice how far you’ve gone when Yoongi can start talking, when he can start moving, when his eyes brighten up a little more, when his cheeks become fuller. 

The moment you see him, with faded bruises and still swollen fingers, you wonder what he looked like without being so fucked up. His face is still pretty, even when he was on the verge of death, and here you are watching him appreciate that you, an enemy, continue to keep him alive.

“He’s going to kill you for this, you know.” Yoongi comments, eating away at the meal you’ve brought him this time. “Feeding me so often. I’m pretty sure they were leaving me here to die.”

“They were.” You huff, sitting on the wooden chair and watching the way his energy grows. “I figure if I get caught, I’ll just kill you first and then myself.”

“Bold,” He ticks his tongue, still not looking away from the food in front of him. “I can imagine they think I’m already dead.” 

A wave of cold fear hits you. That’s right. Surely by now, he would be dead, and surely they’d come check and hide the body or something. But no one has shown up, no one but you. You can imagine that by now, they’re probably planning to come see him, and seeing him alive and well would pose questions. Lots of questions.

Thankfully, no one notices when you leave at night. You never leave when Namjoon stays with you, and you never make yourself suspicious either. If they have any questions, they certainly wouldn’t expect you to be the one to answer them.

“So, why’d you kill him?” You ask, wondering if you can at least learn some information about him before all of this comes crashing down around him.

“Kill who? I’ve killed a lot of people, most of them I don’t even know their names.” He laughs, narrowing his eyes at you. “Who are you, anyway?”

You pause. He’s still a dead man despite that beating heart so telling him wouldn’t change a thing, you assume. You give him your name and follow up with your title.

“You’re dating that pompous asshole? You know what he did to my family, right?” Yoongi looks at you with a face you hadn't seen before. There’s a lot of hate behind it as he sneers at you. 

“I don’t, no. But I can imagine he probably killed them, right?”

Yoongi nods with a grimace, for the first time losing his appetite. It’s laughable, really. 

“If you’re referring to his friend, I shot him. It was a quick death. But do you know what he did to my friends?” He continues with an evil smirk, as if telling you will hurt you as much as he’s been hurt. 

You shake your head, breathing in deeply at the images in your head.

“Well, you saw what he was doing to me. I’m shocked he was being so kind with my demise.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, both curious and afraid to actually learn what he means.

“Have you ever seen what happens to a body after they’ve been floating in murky water for a week?” 

You shake your head.

“Have you ever heard the snap of a neck?” 

You again, shake your head.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” He laughs, now gaining his appetite back. “Both of those things, I'd love to do to your boyfriend.” 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for some reason, you don’t shiver.

“Are you saying those are things he’s done?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Well, yeah. Most of us have. But him. He’s particularly brutal, likes to send us videos, y’know? I bet you’ve never watched the only person you’ve ever loved get doused in gasoline and set on fire either, have you?”

You freeze, another chill running down your body. Namjoon did that? Like, you knew killing was part of it but you really expected a typical gunshot or stabbing. This, this is something else. Given, you watched him starve the man in front of you so, should it be as shocking as it is? 

But it is, because he did this to someone’s girlfriend? You’re his girlfriend, and by doing that to Yoongi, surely that put a hit on your head. 

“He’s not so pretty in your head now, huh?” Another laugh. 

“Is that why you killed him?” You ask, trying to avert the attention to someone other than Namjoon. 

“No. Unfortunately, I was the one who did the first hit. But to be fair,” Yoongi twists his wrists bound behind him and tilts his head in a playful way. “He did some unsavory things to that same person I loved.” 

Unsavory things. You can’t imagine what that could be outside of, well, rape. Namjoon’s best friend, his brother, raped Yoongi’s girlfriend. And then Namjoon set her on fire in retaliation? 

“Why are you so quiet now?” Yoongi asks, finishing off his food with little to no hesitation and staring at the water. “Not too happy to learn that I’m not the only piece of shit you seem to cling to?”

You take offense to that, eyes trailing to that same bottle of water he’s looking at. 

“Fuck you.” You say, standing from your place and grabbing that bottle of water, opening it, and pouring it out on the floor in front of him. “If you're thirsty, there, have at it.” 

You don’t even look at him when you turn and walk away, locking the door and promising yourself that you won’t come back. There’s no way Namjoon did those things, and you’re not fucking clinging. 

~

Fortunately for Yoongi, no one unsavory shows up two days later. It’s you again, reluctantly stepping in with his delivery of food and energy. 

“Here I was thinking you wouldn’t come back.” He laughs, scooting from the wall and toward you. By now his legs are feeling better, and he can even move some of his fingers, which is very lucky because he really thought they had been twisted. 

“You’re lucky I did.” You deadpan, walking up to him and looking down. “I learned that maybe you’re not much of a liar, are you?” 

He tilts his head at you with a smirk, nodding his head in a genuine way. 

“I’m either going to die, or you are. What’s the point in keeping secrets?”

You nod brokenly, breathing in a deep sigh and still trying to process the things you confirmed on your own. Jungkook may be in, but he sure does have a loud mouth when you start asking him questions. The good news is that, if Namjoon found out Jungkook shared those secrets, he’d be on the chopping block again. So, he’s kind of stuck with you in this limbo of wondering who to trust and who not to trust. 

You, now fearing your own boyfriend who not only holds you on the nights he’s home, but tells you he loves you, feel at a loss when you look at Yoongi. 

Both men have committed atrocities and it’s funny how you expected them to have not been that way. At least the man before you told you the truth though. He protected a person he loved, and Namjoon killed people for it. 

“Yoongi.” You say his name for the first time and he grimaces immediately at it. 

“What makes you think we are on a first name basis?” He asks, snidely. 

“I had to feed you like a fucking baby, I can call you whatever I damn well please.” You argue, stepping back and reaching for the chair to sit in front of him. 

“You think you can just call me whatever you want because you chose to fuck your life up and keep me alive?” He laughs again, clearly very aware of the position he’s in but still unafraid. “So fucking clingy. I don’t see how he stands it.”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek at the audacity of this man. 

“Have you ever heard of saying “Thank you”?” You ask, rolling your eyes and kicking him over. 

He falls with a huff, but lays there chuckling about it. 

“Either way, Jungkook said he was ordered to come here in two days to get rid of your body. So, I suggest you either roll over and die or we figure something out.”

“We?” He questions, sitting himself back up and looking at you with a raised brow. “So, you’re working for me now?”

You look around the room, wanting to cry because it damn well seems that way considering what you’ve learned. Namjoon would probably kill you without blinking . Unfortunately, yeah, maybe you are.

“It seems so.” You look at him, noticing how his once dull and lifeless eyes are full of energy and rage. Noticing even more how he looks up and down your body.

You can imagine the man is touch starved, and for some reason, that is…kind of attractive. Such a wanted man checking you out as if you both aren’t on the verge of being shoved into a morgue freezer. 

“Oh yeah?” His eyes stay roaming, and then he flicks them back up at you. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, it’s pretty hot to know you’re turning your back on that piece of shit.” 

In his head, he’s very clearly barely back to reality. After all, he’s been in this room entirely alone save for you. Nearly dying and then coming back from the brink of death because of you. Is it so wrong for him to kind of, you know, be a man in such a dire situation? 

“I haven’t turned my back on him! I’m just,” You pause, going quiet for a moment to think. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can accept what he’s done.”

“And so, you’re asking me what to do so we both don’t get killed? Hate to tell you babe, but even if you chose to stay, I'd tell them the second they find me alive that you’re the one who fed me.” 

You glare at him, knowing that you’re both facing a brick wall with guns pointed to your head. 

“I bet you would.” 

“He and I are pretty similar, watching you die wouldn’t sting even a tiny bit.” He continues, poking and pushing the buttons he realizes you have. “Thank you though.”

You look down at him, tilting your head and, for some reason, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” You say, standing to your feet and walking around him. 

He protests the second he feels your arms snake around him and try to lift him. His body now having a bit more weight to it, you feel pleased that you kept him alive, for some reason.

“Sit on the chair.” You say, still tugging him up and noticing how he wobbles on his legs. 

Yoongi says nothing, for some reason no longer fighting and instead focusing on seeing if his legs still work. Somehow, they’re not broken, and he’s able to stand on them for a brief moment before leaning the entirety of his weight on you. 

“Clingy.” He laughs in an out of breath whisper, fumbling to the chair and finally falling into it. 

“Did you love your girlfriend?” You ask, stepping back and looking at him propped in his chair. 

“I did.” He admits, looking straight past you and at the wall. “Can’t now though.”

You look to the ground. 

“Would you have killed her if she kept Namjoon alive behind your back?” You ask.

“No.” He admits again, laughing at himself. “Would have killed myself before I ever laid a hand on her.” 

You think hard about the similarities between Yoongi and Namjoon, but you struggle to find many of them. Which is terrifying.

“So, you really think Namjoon would kill me for the same reasons?”

“Babe,” He lets out a pained laugh for you, shaking his head in pity. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

You nod your head, because you honestly think he would too. 

“So, what now?” You ask, knowing there is no answer to the question. 

“I’d suggest you run home to him.” He says, nodding his head to the door as if to encourage you. “I don’t suppose I can expect you to accidentally let one of my family members know where I am though, can I?”

“No,” you say sadly, trying to force the tears threatening to shed to stay behind your eyelids. “I suppose you can’t.”

It’s silent for a long while, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Realizing how much safer you feel in this prison compared to in bed next to Namjoon. It’s frightening, truly, that you could be killed simply for having humanity. Yoongi’s girlfriend was killed because his humanity drove him to revenge. Maybe you’re the one more similar to Yoongi. 

“I’m not really going to tell them, you know.” Yoongi calls out, dropping his head and looking at you from under his messy hair. “I might kill, but rarely without reason. I’m satisfied enough with the idea that you might leave him.”

You stare at him.

“You’re too naive to be involved with all of this. He seems to do a pretty shit job at protecting you, considering you’re here with me.”

You continue to look at him, questioning every word he’s saying. 

“You’re pretty similar to her, you know? I mean, minus the whole going behind his back thing.” Yoongi smiles when he looks at you, and arguably that expression hits you right in the gut. 

“If I untie you, would you come after me?” You ask, studying him. 

“Maybe, who knows?” He watches you go behind him anyway. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?” 

His eyes light up at the feeling of you behind him, hoping to god you’re truly weak hearted enough to untie him. He could run, he could fulfill this rage growing in his heart, but those hopes are shattered when you come back into view. 

You lean down, inches from his face and look directly into his eyes. Searching for a reason to think he would kill you the instant you untie those hands. What you see instead, is his eyes flicking to your lips. 

You, in turn, flick your eyes to his and you don’t even know why you do it. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming feeling of death looming over the two of you. You hold Yoongi’s life in your hands, and he technically holds your life in his if he were to tell on you. The feeling is driven solely by fear, disgust, hate, pity.

You kiss him. His breath not offering much outside of the citrus fruit he had eaten when you offered it to him just an hour earlier. 

It’s silent, and you can imagine he truly could have gone insane in this room all by himself. You feel yourself going insane too, despite feeling safer. 

And when you pull back reluctantly, Yoongi’s eyes shine a little differently. His smirk is still scary but his eyes are soft and pleading. That dull look in his eyes from the first night you fed him? That tiny little glint of need shining through to you? That is showing in full force and you wonder if he notices it. 

“He’d definitely kill you.” Yoongi laughs, still looking at you. 

It’s silent again, save for a few quick breaths leaving your chest. You give him a short nod, because you know he’s right and there’s no point in denying it at this point.

“But I wouldn’t.”

All you can do is fall farther into the insanity that fills this room at that. Leaning in and kissing him again, this time a bit more desperate, releasing all of the tension inside of you on him as you bring your body closer, and straddle his sore and weak legs. 

“Are you asking to die?” He comments at your closeness, confirming that you may actually be as clingy as he joked that you were. It appears that death doesn’t seem to scare you at this moment, nor does it scare him. 

If anything, having Namjoon’s girl straddling his lap without so much as asking for it is a new kind of desire in his mind. Namjoon may have killed his ex girlfriend, but he didn’t fuck her. Which, arguably, isn’t worse than losing her but still makes his heart race with anger at the thought. The idea of taking you from that man even for a moment is blissful. An ultimate insult, one that would piss Namjoon off beyond belief. Surely he’d be left in a different room to be eaten by rats next time he makes an attempt on his life. 

“Hm?” Yoongi continues, letting you kiss him, feeling your weight on his sore body, kind of loving the feeling because he hasn’t touched a woman since his girlfriend died. But if he’s going to end up dead, he might as well fuck Namjoon’s girlfriend beforehand, right? 

“Maybe I am,” you answer, breathlessly. “Are you?” You ask, leaning back and looking at him.

“You do realize I’m one of the most wanted men in this country, right?” He laughs, smirking and feeling quite cocky with the turn of events. 

“That,” You eye him, feeling his length twitch beneath you. “you are.” 

He chuckles, noting that you’re suddenly complimenting him now.

“Wanted by you wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but alright.” He shrugs, pressing his hips up and against you. “Can you at least untie my hands if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this?”

You shake your head, lifting off of him a bit and checking that his hands are still bound. 

“No,” You laugh, sitting back down and noticing his harsh reaction to your weight on his legs again. “Does your dick still work?”

Yoongi glares, unsure of how he feels about fucking someone while bound and in pain like this, but who is he to say no? Again, Namjoon’s girlfriend. Rage and revenge. If he can live through a heavy beating and starvation, surely he can handle a girl bouncing on his cock. 

“It appears so,” He says, feeling the twitch in his pants fight against the pain of his legs. “Why, you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe, who knows?” You respond, leaning back down and biting hard against his neck. 

He glares at the wall, seemingly enthralled with the idea but still not entirely happy with the situation at hand. He’s not typically the person to be fucked, and yet, here you are moving your hips against his battered body, bumping against his cock each time. 

Shaking himself out of it, he has to remember that again, this is Namjoon’s girlfriend and he wants to fuck her for no other reason than pissing him off. So, whatever. 

“Are you this eager with him too?” He asks, trying to crane his neck from your biting mouth to get you to look at him. “or am I just lucky?”

Lucky, hah. You scoff against his neck before pulling back to look at him. 

“You really do talk a lot of shit, you know that?” You say, deliberately pressing more weight against his legs to elicit a pained groan out of him. 

“I’ve been told, yes.” He groans in a half laugh, not wanting to appear as broken as you know he has been. “You’re still the one trying to fuck enemy number one though.” 

Internally, your heart is racing. 

“Maybe I’m the lucky one then?” You offer, moaning a bit at the feeling of how hard he’s gotten despite the state of his body. “Most wanted man in the country right? Sitting right here, tied up, at my mercy.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Namjoon liked to be slapped around.” Yoongi laughs, wincing again at both the pain and pleasure you’re offering to him. 

“He doesn’t.” You respond, tilting your head before leaning in close to his ear. “I’m the one who likes that.” 

His arms shake within their bounds, broken fingers be damned he still has another hand to use. 

“Then fucking untie me,” He grouches, huffing out through his nose and attempting to push you away by shifting his legs. “If you like it so much, let me do it.” 

You shake your head again, this time with your own pitied laugh. 

“You’d kill me. I know you said you wouldn’t but you were just trying to get on my good side.” You coo out at him after your comment, ghosting your lips over his. “It must hurt pretty bad to know how pathetic you look right now.” 

He very nearly spits at you for looking down on him with intent. Sure, before you probably looked down on him because he was literally dying. But now? This is a blatant insult, and he can’t help but feel some of that rage build up within him. 

“Pathetic?” He laughs, staring down at the way your hips continue to move. “You’re the one getting yourself off on a man who would kill your boyfriend in an instant.” 

“Do it then.” you say, unsure of why you’re suddenly so okay with the idea of murder. Maybe because if Yoongi did it, you know he’d probably be quick with it. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in describing such gory scenes to you, so clearly he must not like to savor them either. Not like Namjoon, who appears to favor giving others a long and painful death. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi calls out, being entirely aroused by your willingness to tell him to kill your boyfriend. The thought of hurting him alone could get Yoongi off within seconds. The relief of killing the man who caused so much pain would be better than any orgasm or twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine. 

“Say that again,” Yoongi groans, replaying those words you just said in his head. His own hips moving against you now. “Say it and I swear I’ll kill him when I get out of here.” 

You don’t comment at first. “when I get out of here.” he said, as if he knows for a fact you’ll untie him. As if he trusts that you’re with him one hundred percent. Hell, at this point, maybe you are. Feeling so unsafe and so very aware of how dead you actually may become, fighting to keep yourself alive is easier to swallow than letting your own boyfriend kill you for betraying him. Fight or flight, the brain works so strangely when it needs to survive. 

“Do it,” You repeat, hearing his breath hitch in an embarrassing way. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

He nods proudly, still writhing his arms and wanting so badly to be free, not even to escape at this point, but to hold onto your waist and feel more of that pain you offer to him. 

“Fucking untie me.” He demands, legs shaking as he continues to try and chase the rhythm of your harsh grinding hips. “You think I’d kill you when you’re talking to me like this?” 

“I think you would.” You laugh, now pulling back off of his lap and standing to your feet in front of him. 

You look down at him, his cock towering in his dirty jeans. For some reason, you’re not disgusted by the fact that he’s filthy. You’re more disgusted with the idea of going home and smelling the shampoo Namjoon uses to wash the blood out of his hair. 

“I wouldn't.” He repeats himself, now moving back and forth in his chair to try and unbind his hands much like he did the first night he was here. “If i planned on killing you, i’d fuck you first anyway.”

You narrow your eyes, watching him try to break free before you lunge forward and lean over him again. Much like before, you grab his face and force him to look into your eyes. 

“I’m not untying you.” You say sternly, as if to warn him that it’s the final time you’ll say it. “You have two days left, and I’m not coming back after this.”

“I know.” He admits, bucking his hips up at nothing. “So, if you could just pull my dick out and get to it, I'd really appreciate it.”

You poke your tongue to your cheek again, wondering how the fuck this man manages to stay so confident in such a position. You wonder even harder why you listen to him. 

Just as he asked, you lower yourself to your knees and lay your head on his knee. For a moment, he watches you and understands why Namjoon must like you so much. You’re pretty down there, with playful eyes even in the face of death. You’re definitely something else. One, for ending up with Namjoon, and two, for ending up in this room with him like this. 

“I think you could probably drive anyone insane,” Yoongi says in a voice that seems too soft for him. “If he’s really stupid enough to kill you for giving him the chance to kill me again, he’s a lot more dumb than I expected.”

You smile, blinking up at his compliment. 

“Thank you.” You say, feeling so lost in this situation that at this point, you feel like you’d rather just stay here and let Jungkook find you both two days from now. It’s a fucked up situation on all ends, but at least you feel okay right now, with your chin resting on a killer’s knee, glancing at his cock, wondering how you want to pleasure it. 

He stops talking by this point, bucking his hips to encourage you to stop staring and pull it out. The sound of his clothing rubbing against that old wooden chair suddenly feels loud, and your ears begin to ring as your heart picks up. 

There is a specific realization in this moment regarding all of that humanity that drove you to this point. Helping this man is one thing, but wanting him is something completely different. In your head, you question everything you feel at this moment. Are you chasing comfort from none other than, and he was right to say it, the most wanted man in the country? More wanted than Namjoon? Perhaps that’s because Namjoon has other’s do his dirty work though. Yoongi appears to kill personally, and quickly. It’s no wonder he got caught by the gang you call family. 

You remember being told that they got him, and that he was to be killed. You remember mocking Namjoon, complaining that you wouldn’t believe it until you saw him. You remember Jungkook sitting in the driver’s side of the car and driving you here for the first time, and you remember that one of your first thoughts about Yoongi was that he didn’t look much like a gang leader lying on the floor like that. You thought he was cute, almost puppy like in his defiance. 

When he spilled all of those truths about Namjoon and the men and women you are surrounded with, you did lean more into Yoongi than the people who claim to love you. You didn’t know why you kept him alive, you didn’t know why you betrayed those you love. If anything, you know now that is was simply humanity. 

Something that you cling to, and something that the majority of people around you have thrown away. When you look at Yoongi though, alive because of you, you see his humanity too. There is a fire in his eye that doesn't sing out for rage and blood, no. It’s a look you couldn’t find in Namjoon’s eye just a day before. Humanity brought you to save this man, and it also brought you to find him attractive despite his state, and it also brought you to this. Wanting him.

Wanting to comfort him from those atrocities your boyfriend committed toward him, because you can defend why Yoongi killed the man who once brought you a cake for your birthday. You wanted to keep him alive because somehow, in your gut, you knew he didn’t deserve to die this way. 

And now, so terrified of what this situation might bring, you’re turned on by fear. The arousal of him talking so much shit, complimenting you through insults, looking at you in a way Namjoon never did drives a distinct type of butterfly within your belly. You fear every single person outside of this room, but Yoongi. You want him to yourself. 

Yoongi watches you against his knee, seemingly in deep thought as your face falls and lightens up with realization. He finds himself smiling at the situation. He was really quite lucky for Namjoon to be dating such a woman. If he hadn't been, surely he would be dead and limp in the corner, rotting until his body is hidden elsewhere two days from now. But he’s not, his heart is beating and his cock is raging much like the hate in his heart for the men who seemed to have claimed you.

Don’t get him wrong though, it’s not that he likes you in the way Namjoon seems to. He gets why he does though. The fact of the matter is that you put yourself in a terrifying situation to keep him alive for no reason that has truly been given. It’s natural for him to owe you now, and what he owes you is nothing short of his own life for putting yourself in the line of fire like this. 

Yoongi does like you though. Likes the way you look at death the same way he does, being reckless and making mistakes despite clearly having some sort of intelligence. His attraction to you comes in the form that you’re a woman, you’re Namjoon’s woman, you’re attractive, and you really did give him his life back. Even still restrained, he’s turned on beyond belief. Never having been put in a situation where he fucks the inevitable out of his mind, but it’s exactly what he intends to do. 

Not just to spite Kim Namjoon, but also to somehow repay you. You got on top of him, you kissed him, and if you want to fuck the life of out him, he owes you that much too. At least when you leave him here, if you leave him here, he knows that he made you feel good too. 

“Well?” He finally says, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts and making your eyes shoot back up to him. “You just gonna look at it or?”

You blink twice before glancing back down at his cock and feel the resolve within you strengthen. Your mind is suddenly so clear when you reach forward and unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs and completely off of him.

You gasp when you see how bruised his legs are, realizing that you were just sitting directly on them. Thankfully, again, they’re not broken but you can imagine the weakness he feels. 

“Oh.” You breathe out, letting your fingers ghost over one of the deepest and darkest bruises. Shaped like a boot and showing a pattern that looks very similar to the pair of boots your boyfriend wears. You watch him wince at the energy of your fingers, not even touching the spot but simply close enough to still somehow manage to hurt him. 

“I’ve had worse,” he urges you, leaning forward a bit and looking at you. “What, you think I can’t handle a couple of bruises?”

You look up at him, trying to push the range of colors against his skin out of your mind as your eyes land and focus back between his legs. Not surprising that it can distract you almost instantly as it stands against the last remaining restraining fabric. 

His hips buck up when he sees your hands go for the waistband of his underwear, licking his lower lip with a silent chant in his head of yes, yes, yes! Perhaps it’s because he lost his mind, but it’s really not such a bad deal to be able to get so turned on in a situation like this. After all, he owes you, so he might as well get into it, right? 

When you pull off his underwear, instantly you’re just staring. In awe that he can manage to be turned on at all right now, ultimately quite happy that it still works too.

“I bet all the girls love getting fucked by you.” You comment, staring at his cock and the way it stands more lively than the rest of his body. 

“On the contrary babe. I don’t fuck just anyone.” He chuckles snidely, looking down at the way your eyes swallow him up. “If I’m fucking someone, only I’m fucking her.”

“Lucky her, bet you go for the pretty ones too.” 

“You misunderstand me,” he chuckles softly, his cock twitching at the way your energy changed once you got a good look at it. “If I fuck her, she’s only fucking me.” 

You pause, noting another lack of similarity between Yoongi and your boyfriend. Namjoon fucks other women, sometimes in just a room over from you. Part of you wishes he was as possessive as the man before you on all fronts. Enough to kill a man for you like Yoongi did, enough to starve and suffer in a room for protecting you. 

“What happens when Namjoon gets his hands on me again, then?”

“He won’t be able to once I’m done with you.” 

You pause, unsure if that’s a threat on your life or a threat for a good time. The gamble is the same either way, so you offer him a sarcastic laugh. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask, leaning forward and tip toeing your fingers up his length. 

“You wouldn’t want him to fuck you.” He says snidely, shivering at your touch. “Let me show you what it’s like to actually get fucked.” 

You breathe in deeply, pupils blowing out at the sound of those words. It only takes a moment to stand up and place yourself back on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes. 

“Is that a promise?” You say, eyes burning in delight and ignoring the wince of pain that trembles through his body. “You think you can fuck me better?” 

He smirks and nods his head, pushing his cock forward as his legs start to go numb under your weight. He’s no longer uncomfortable, thinking with only one part of his body. 

“Let me,” He says, trying to show his dominance despite being restrained. “Sit on it and see, babe.”

You chuckle silently, lifting up on his lap and internally apologizing for the way your legs squeeze his thighs, he doesn’t react though. You snake your hands under your skirt to push your panties to the side and have no qualms with grabbing his cock and positioning it right where it needs to be. 

Yoongi shivers at the feeling of your hand grasping him, and the image of your eyes not leaving his when you do it. For once in his life, he is feeling so out of control, owing someone else, all while being pleasured? Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time in captivity. 

“Sit.” He says in a demanding way, feeling the way you hover over him and make attempts to tease the pleasure. 

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” You laugh, still somehow following his order and sliding down just an inch and releasing a breath. 

He hums at it, holding his own pleasure in and watching you attempt to control yourself just through the small amount of cock he’s got in you. 

“Untie me, I’ll take care of you.” He tries to reason with you again, bucking his hips up and plunging another few inches against your aching walls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder as you brace yourself against the chair behind him. Slowly sinking down and adjusting to a size that isn’t what you’re accustomed to. And when you finally sit flush against his thighs, you spread your legs to offer him some relief and clench your pussy around him. 

“Untie me,” he says again, thrusting his hips up beneath your weight and trying to force in more of him despite having no more to offer. “Fuck.” 

You ignore his words and his chasing hips as your pussy hugs his length. You feel so full, so satisfied by his size inside of you. When he tries to fuck up, he doesn’t go far but the tight fit burns in a way that feels more arousing than you could have ever expected.

“You must hate being tied up,” You chuckle, finally moving your hips just a bit to relieve yourself of a bit of his length. “How does it feel to be at a woman’s mercy?” 

Yoongi glares at you when you say those words, pressing up and struggling with his strength as he tries to force those few inches back into you. 

“How does it feel?” He repeats the question to you. “I could be fucking the light out of your eyes right now if you’d just let me.”

You almost consider it, wondering what his working hand would feel like pressing against your skin. The other, too swollen and likely too painful to touch you. You’d still play with those fingers though, because the only way you can get a decent moan out of him is if he’s hurting. 

“The light already left my eyes, Yoongi.” You say.

He doesn’t hear a word of it outside of you using his first name again. He rolls his eyes at you, dropping his head back in a frustrated groan at how he’s both getting what he wants, but also not.

“No, your eyes are still shining.” He says when he lifts his head back up to face you, and you pull back a bit, rolling your hips before finally lifting again to actually start riding him. 

“So are yours.” You say, looking straight into them and smiling.

He doesn’t believe you, but the sensation of how wet you seem to be definitely would have any man’s eyes shining. 

“How does it feel?” You comment, noticing the shiver that runs down his body and his heaving chest. 

“Fucking tight.” He grimaces, “I’d keep you all to myself. Namjoon is a stupid, stupid man for letting you come here.”

“He’s a specific type of man,” You correct him, hovering over his lips. “Doesn’t even eat my pussy.”

“Goddamn, untie me.” Yoongi very nearly pleads, feeling the intensity of how your walls cling to him. 

He’s aching so much. He’s so fucking angry, and yet, he really is about to beg for you to release him. Not to run, not to kill you, but to pleasure you.

You still ignore him, ghosting your lips over his and watching his eyes droop into a drowsy stare at you. You were right when you said his eyes were shining, even like this, they are. You could argue that he feels good, you could argue that if you untied him, maybe he really would fuck you better than Namjoon does. 

“I bet you’d kill to have your hands on me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi nods brokenly, still trying to buck his hips up to make good on his promise, and still being met with frustration bubbling inside of him. He’s too restrained for this, his heart has grown soft at this ego blow, and yet, his cock still yearns inside of you. 

“I would.” He admits, his voice so broken sounding that you almost feel as if you’ve pushed him to his limit. 

“You’d eat me out too, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck yeah I would.” He admits again, this time seeming more determined as he starts to move his hands again in an attempt to free himself. “Let me.” He seethes out through a clenched jaw. 

You ignore him.

“Let me.” He says again, this time in a half moan when you move your hips with more intent. 

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll let you.” You moan yourself, sliding back and forth against him, swirling your hips and feeling his weeping cock stretch you out even more. 

“You’re fucking insane.” Yoongi groans, tensing his muscles to offer more support for your languid grinding. “Fucking me so slow, making promises you know you can’t keep.”

“I’ll keep them,” You say, lowering your face to his neck and reaching your hands behind him, rubbing against his arms. “You’re giving me so much power right now, it’s hard not to savor it.”

He chuckles at your boldness, once again leaning his head back against the chair and allowing himself to relish in the feeling of the way you ride him. 

“If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him how wet and needy this pussy is for me.” 

“You’re so honest,” you laugh, picking up pace and fiddling with the binds on his hands. “That’s why I’m not going to untie you.”

“Faster,” he groans, imagining that he has healthy and free hands, guiding your hips on him. If he’s going to have to be like this though, the least he can do is try and guide you to the pace he should be fucking you at in this moment. “I want to hear how wet you are.”

You smirk, pulling your hands back and grabbing his face. His cheeks are fuller now compared to that night you came to bring him his life back, and they look plush when you squeeze them and force his eyes to stay on you. 

“Faster?” You ask, already pistoning your hips against him, the chair creaking and threatening to break under the weight the two of you offer. “Harder?” You ask, his eyes burning straight through you as if you’d be daring him to kill you if you don’t. 

He’s pleased by your pace, falling into a world of arousal in his head as you ride him exactly how he wants it. He can hear the wetness seeping out of you, and the best part is that it’s for him and not that pompous asshole who nearly killed him.

You bounce, fast and hard, drilling his cock so deeply into you that he finally releases a moan of pleasure right against your lips before rolling his eyes back and giving in. 

“Fuck, you do this for him, too?” He asks, eyes rolling back to look at you and the way the determination in your eyes only grows. 

“No,” You say out of breath, keeping that same pace and hiccupping with small moans each time. “He never lets me ride him” 

“Won’t eat you out, won’t let you ride him.” Yoongi mocks him, freely moaning now as you take him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much at this point. “I’d worship you.”

You pause your movements, out of breath as you look at him. You glance down to his smiling lips, and then back up at his eyes. 

“I’d let you.” You say shortly, kissing him once again and returning back to your slow movements, pumping his cock inside of you so tightly that he fears this will end too quickly. 

And it does, when you feel his tongue tense up in your mouth and he starts kissing you harder. His harsh voice releases whimpers and breaths into your throat. The sounds coming from him are unintentional and entirely too arousing to ignore.  You can feel his length twitching aggressively inside of you, and you feel more full than you ever thought you could. You ride it out for him, giving him quick jerks of your hips to drag that sensitivity on as he finishes what you started. 

And then it’s silent, but he’s still kissing you. 

“Then let me.” He says once you part your lips, still holding him inside of you, and not daring to move a muscle.

~

You stay with him for a long while, torturing him in a way he finds himself loving by the time the sun rises and he now only has one day on this earth to live. You had spread yourself out on him, gotten him off twice, and then promptly moved him from the chair to get him on his knees. 

It was the first time since you’d been with Namjoon that you felt a tongue against your clit, breaking your own promise of letting if happen if he gets out of this situation. Arguably, you felt like you fell into this hole with Yoongi far too deep to even consider crawling out of it. He ate you like he was still starving, smirking as you swirled your needy clit against his tongue. He was eager to take the parts of you that Namjoon never wanted, it seems. 

And when the daylight rose and you were still here, panic sat in. You were filled with a man’s cum that isn’t your boyfriend’s. Your legs were arguably as weak as Yoongi’s, and you knew for a fact that your family was already wondering where you were. One of the cars would be missing, you’d be missing. 

“What?” Yoongi asks, watching you in horror at the sudden shift of mood. Your face twisting in panic as you start to breathe heavily.

“I can’t.” You say shortly, scooting back further from him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Yoongi picks up quickly on what you’re referring to. He knew this night had to come to an end though, and he knows for a fact that at least you got to experience him for who he truly is, and not the rabid criminal Namjoon seems to believe he is. 

“Probably because you know Namjoon is going to mail your head to the police?” He laughs, sighing in defeat.

That is, until you stand up and walk behind him. 

Instantly he feels the tight bind against his wrists loosen and now, he can look at the damage. His broken fingers aren’t twisted, and his wrists actually hurt more than they do. He turns to look at you as you stand there, struggling not to cry. 

Honestly, he’s a bit frozen in place before he tries to stand. His legs buckle from the lack of use and from your weight on them, but he manages to balance himself and slowly take a step toward you with a look of appreciation.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, trying to balance himself but feeling his legs give in instantly. He crumbles to the ground with a pained groan. Embarrassed by his nudity and lack of strength.

You didn’t run, nor did you hide after you untied him. What you did do though, is set him free from this situation. He can leave now, and if he needs to, he can take you with him. 

“Are you stupid?” He asks through his pain, standing again and internally forcing himself to walk. “Go on, run back to him.” He raises his voice. 

You shake your head.

“I’m dead either way.” You say with a shaking voice, feeling a pit in your stomach still bubble with arousal but the reality hit you far too late. 

“You saved my life and you’ve now given me a chance to fucking run. You think I’m going to let you die?” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Technically, it should be normal for a person to react this way, but Yoongi is a killer too. It’s not like you expect anything more from him, nor from Namjoon at this point when he ultimately learns that you’re the one who did this.

“If you want me to kill you so bad, I’d be happy to do it so you don’t have to fucking suffer but–” Yoongi goes silent for a moment, contemplating the position that he’s about to put himself in. 

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, it couldn’t hurt much more than it already will. 

“You could come with me. My men will protect you for keeping me alive. You’d be untouchable.” 

You look at him, seemingly unsure at first. 

“He’s probably already out looking for me.” You say in a smaller voice than before. “He’d know it was you.” 

“No shit. Either you’re coming with me or not.” Yoongi deadpans, standing as still as he can so he doesn’t tumble over to the ground again. 

You shrug in defeat, nothing left to say. 

And then you’re getting into your car after the struggle and helping your enemy escape. He’s in the back seat, smiling up as he focuses his eyes outside. 

“If you drive me straight to him, you know he’d probably forgive you, right?”

You ignore him, finding more comfort in the fact that he’d kill you for this. 

“Just tell me where to go.”

~ 

Forever known to be a duck-whisperer 😂😂😂

That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father - Seonghwa X Reader

Part of the CODN Summer Event - See You On The Flip Side

Genre: Mature, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Seonghwa X GN!Reader

Words: 2,700

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but really it's a really funny misunderstanding, a gun!, mature themes, not edited, I'll do that laterrrrr so please excuse any errors

A/n: Since the event was announced and I saw the first prompt, this has been living in my head rent free lmaooo I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you all like it as well! It's not meant to be taken too seriously, so just have fun when reading it! At least, I hope you will! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...

Prompt: Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss.

You have no idea how you got here. Perhaps it’s your penchant for excitement, or maybe even your love of adventure. However, if anyone would have told you that you’d be in this situation, you would have laughed in their face… followed promptly by an excited, yet curious, ‘really?’

Honestly, you can’t be mad. He is rather cute, and he did go along with it to start.

That’s what happens when you trust a stranger.

You had seen your ex across the park with their new fling walking hand in hand. Or, rather, the person they had been seeing the whole time while you had supposedly been in a relationship with them. Seeing them out looking so joyous had something within you twisting unpleasantly, and if they could look so happy being together and away from you, then so could you.

Looking around the park, you had done a quick scan of the area. Weeding out potential dangers, you finally zeroed in on your target. A man with shaggy black hair half tied up in a ponytail. He appeared to be alone, and the fact that he was crouched by the pond chatting with the ducks had an immediate good feeling towards him building within your gut.

Without a moment to waste, you ran over to him.

“Hi, I know this is really sudden, but could you do me a huge favour?” Your words come out rushed, cheeks heating as you avert your gaze to the side.

Unfortunately for you, your gaze caught on your ex and their now partner rounding the closest bend and getting even closer to where you were standing.

You didn’t even give the man time to respond. All you did know, was that he had stood back to his feet beside you, his beauty captivating you the moment you turned to meet his curiously quirked brow.

“Great, thanks.” You say, offering him a tight smile.

The sound of laughter meets your ears, and you immediately find yourself stepping closer into this mystery man’s side.

A call of your name draws your attention to the side.

“Oh, hey, Colin,” you grin, chuckling awkwardly as you meet his gaze. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well, we were just out for an afternoon stroll through the park, and I couldn’t help but notice you with-“

“Oh, excuse me,” the man beside you clears his throat, extending his hand out towards Colin. You fail to see the pointed look he shoots your ex’s now partner. “Where are my manners? My name is Seonghwa.”

You swear you see Colin’s partner stiffen beside him, their eyes catching on a large silver and black ring on the duck watcher’s - Seonghwa’s - hand.

“So, how long have you and Seonghwa been together-“

“Well, it was great seeing you!” You cut their words off eagerly, a tight smile painting your lips. 

Grabbing Seonghwa’s hand in your own, you pull him down the path and in the opposite direction of the two of them a bit frantically. You need to get away from an even more awkward conversation than what had already been started mere minutes ago.

“This was a dumb idea.” You keep muttering over and over to yourself as you drag him along. “God- how could I have been so stupid?”

You fail to see the curious quirk of the man’s brow trudging behind you.

Taking a quick look around, you manage to rush across the street and into a side alleyway. It’s a bit secluded, but you could use the space right now. Especially after seeing your ex again.

It takes you a full minute to realize that you’re still holding this mystery man’s hand.

“Should I even ask?” His amused voice greets your ears.

Instantly, you drop his hand, beginning to pace.

“All this time I thought I was over doing stupid things like this to get his attention, but no!” You drawl out that last word, shaking your head. “I just had to go and drag a random stranger into it instead of walking away. God, that was probably so uncomfortable for you. I’m so sorry!” You turn to him, your eyebrows drooping. “You probably think I’m some crazy person obsessed with their ex, or something. I promise you I’m not!”

Your words start rising in pitch, voice taking on a more frantic tone.

“I’m just…. upset at how happy they look after what they did-“ you take a sharp breath in. “And you probably don’t even care, oh my god. Here I am ranting to a literal stranger over my old relationship problems after dragging him across the street.”

The corner of Seonghwa’s lips quirk, resting his one shoulder against the brick wall of the alleyway casually. His eyes continue to track your every movement, amusement dancing within his gaze as he listens to you rant like he’s not even there.

After a few more minutes of you seemingly working yourself up, he cannot help but chuckle, “You know, there’s not many people brave enough to do what you just did.”

This seems to halt you right in your tracks.

You blink, turning to face him fully, and noticing how he’s still been here this whole time.

“To be fair, I thought you would have bolted the moment I dragged you into this alleyway.”

“You’re blocking the only exit.” The grin he wears only widens, watching as your eyes seem to dart everywhere but towards him now.

“Oh.” You laugh awkwardly. “So, I am.”

He says nothing in response, simply continuing to watch you in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, then…” you clear your throat, stepping pointedly to the side. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

His grin only stretches wider across his face. “You sure about that?”

“Well, unless you want to hear all about the relationship struggles of a stranger, I won’t hold you hostage any longer.” You motion for him to walk passed with your hand, signifying his freedom.

“Believe me,” he pushes himself off of the wall, yet opts to stand directly across from you still with his arms crossed. “If I had wanted to escape, there is no way you could have held me here.”

To say you are taken back by his bluntness would be a great understatement.

“Oh?” Your brows raise, an expression of disbelief coating your features. “I mean, it’s not like I was being forceful!”

“On the contrary,” he chuckles, his eyes dancing in amusement. “I had no other choice than to follow you after you had grabbed my hand.”

“Well, I highly doubt you couldn’t have just pulled your hand free-“

“But then what would have our dear Colin have thought?” He hums, tilting his head slightly. “Would have been so scandalous for a couple to act so repulsed of one another.”

“I said I was sorry!” Your shoulders deflate. “You seemed like the best option in the park at the time and I took a chance! You’re the one who went along with it.”

“I’m not so heartless that I would leave someone in clear distress.” His words come out a little sharper than before, and you notice his eyes seem to harden for a moment.

You recoil slightly, blinking at him in disbelief. “I never said that you were.”

He holds your gaze, his jaw ticking. His shoulders seem tense.

“Well, thanks for your help, oh, great kung fu master,” you say, bowing dramatically with an arm across your chest while the other extends out towards the opening of the alleyway. “My apologies if I disturbed your duck whispering rituals.”

Seonghwa takes a moment to observe you, his head tilting curiously. A blink, and you have yet to come up from your mockery of a bow, which only causes a huff of disbelief to escape him through his nose.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?”

You lift your head, brow furrowed. “Should I?”

Your response clearly catches him off guard. So much so, that he drops his arms to his side.

“Are you some celebrity that I don’t know about?” You shake your head, attempting to place if you’ve seen him on a talk show, or in headlines recently.

This time, the disbelief is clear on his face. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”

“I assure you, sir,” you reply pointedly, “that if I had any idea who you were, I most likely would not have approached the least intimidating stranger making animal crossing sounds at the ducks.”

His mouth falls open, eyes widening as he attempts to refute your statement.

“It was rather sweet, if I’m being honest with myself-“

A blink, and suddenly he has you pinned to the wall of the alleyway. His hands hold tightly to your shoulders, pressing you harshly against the brick as his dark eyes meet your own.

“You need to forget everything you saw, and, or heard today.” He says firmly, his lips curling over his teeth.

“Woah,” you attempt to lift your hands in a shrug, but at the way he pushes you firmer into the wall, his body now pressed against your own, you grimace. “Didn’t realize being human was a sin.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Oh, I don’t understand?” You nod once, slowly, your eyes wide. “Because I’m pretty sure this has taken quite a turn from what we both expected from the other.”

“You don’t realize how dangerous I can be-“

“Is this supposed to be some kind of bad boy act, because it really could use some work-“

“It’s not an act!”

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips quirking. “Then, is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

The man before you lets out a long sigh, his head dropping as he takes a step away from you. His hands move almost too fast for you to see, but at the sleek black object that he pulls out, your eyes nearly bulge from your head.

“A gun!” 

“Keep your goddamn voice down,” Seonghwa hisses, tucking the object into the back waistband of his jeans. “I told you I wasn’t fucking around.”

However, you’re not even paying attention anymore.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die….” You’re mumbling again, blinking rapidly as you lean against the wall for support. “Stupid, stupid, stupid trying to enlist help from a stranger. A stranger with a gun, no less…” You smile tightly, looking like you may let out a shriek of disbelief at any second. “I’m gonna be kidnapped, and my cats will have no one to take care of them-“

“I’m not going to kidnap you.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He goes to reach for you in attempts to calm you down, but you recoil, causing him to immediately back down. “Your cats won’t be orphaned. Relax.”

“But you have a gun!” You whisper harshly, as if it should be obvious why he is a sudden threat to you.

“Hey, if anyone is the kidnap victim here, it’s me.” He hums, that same look of amusement back in his eyes.

“I didn’t-“

“I’ve already had to tell my personal guards to stand down twice since you’ve whisked me away-“

“I was about to knee you in the balls!” 

“Yeah, you definitely would have been shot for that.” He states, rather casually at that.

The look of horror that paints your features is near comical at this point.

He blinks. “You’re not going to be shot-“

“I’m too young to die! I still have my whole life ahead of me!” You begin to wail dramatically.

“You’re not going to die.” He sighs, shaking his head lightly in amusement.

“Says the man with the gun!” You flail your hands, motioning to him with wide eyes. “I knew celebrities valued their privacy, but threats are a whole different ball game.”

“I guess you could call me somewhat of a celebrity.” He shrugs casually, seeming to bask in the idea.

“You, sir, need to sort out your priorities.” You deadpan.

“Says the person freaking out about getting shot by a gun I already put away.” He counters. “Believe me, if I had wanted you dead, you would have been by now.”

“Well, that just makes me feel loads better!” You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. “You certainly know how to pick someone up at the park.”

“You kidnapped me!” He replies, just as exasperatedly.

“I thought you said you’d have no trouble getting away if that were the case.” You simper, nose in the air as you cross your arms over your chest.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he takes you in. Then, the most startling sound escapes him since the beginning of your encounter with this mystery duck whisperer.

He laughs. Not a small chuckle, or puff of amusement. A loud, boisterous laugh which echoes off of the bricks of the alleyway as he nearly doubles over.

“God, I haven’t had this much fun since Joong shattered the duplicate blood ruby we were supposed to use to pull off the Mont Blanc heist.” Seonghwa straightens, attempting to catch his breath as he wipes at the corner of his eyes.

You blink, his words seeming to trigger a memory inside of your mind. Curiously, you tilt your head as flashes of breaking news bulletins flit through your mind, your mouth falling open in disbelief. You hand lifts, shaking lightly as you point a finger at him.

“You’re the leader of the notorious Hala gang?” Your eyes go wide, stunned disbelief painting your features. That is, until a shrill laugh is leaving your lips.

Now, it’s your turn to double over in laughter.

“You- you’re the-“ More peels of laughter escape you, hunching over to rest your hands on your knees.

“What’s so hard to believe?” He quirks a brow, seemingly amused by your reaction currently.

“You were making animal crossing noises at the ducks!” Your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “The big, bad, scary Hala boss spends his free time at the pond, cooing to the ducks!”

“Well, we all need hobbies other than murder sometimes.” He shrugs, as if this is the most normal conversation to be having.

“Right,” you drawl out, shooting him a sceptical look. “And diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Or, well, in this case, blood diamonds.”

“Actually, it was a ruby. But, fair enough,” he chuckles, his eyes shining as he stares at you across from him.

“Oh, pardon me,” you roll your eyes playfully. “We can’t all be versed in the world of jewels and gemstones.”

He takes a brief moment to observe you, seemingly coming to a decision. The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“Would you like to be?”

His question clearly catches you off guard, and you nearly go tumbling over your own two feet as you push yourself off of the wall. “Excuse me?”

“Well, seeing as you’ve separated me from my lovely ducklings, and kidnapped me against my will…” he hums, closing the distance between the two of you carefully. “I think it’s only fair that we do something to my benefit this evening. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Almost as soon as he finishes speaking, he offers you his arm. A soft smile tugs at his lips, that glimmer of amusement shining once more within his dark eyes. He holds no aura of intimidation around him, nor does he seem to have any intent of harming you for the moment. Still, you cannot help but to eye him cautiously.

Your gaze flicks from his arm to his face, studying him carefully. Your brow quirks, and you cannot deny the spark of excitement that kindles within you as you gently place your hand on his arm.

“If my cats are suddenly orphaned cause I’m dead in a ditch somewhere…”

“Believe me, Darling,” Seonghwa chuckles lowly, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he leans into you. He lightly tugs you in closer as you both exit the alleyway, ensuring that you’re pressed right against his side. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to stay.”

Mob! Barnabay from @clownsuu 's Mob!AU

I'm not usually someone who's into AU's but I'm obsessed with this Mob!AU especially the plot about Branaby and his mother.

So I had to make fanart for my favorite moment in the plotline (but make it worst)

CW: GUTS ,GORE, BLOOD AND MORBID THEMES

Nothing will hurt Ms Beagle and the bond with her son with be unbreakable

Some gory close ups below

The devil is in the details 

Mob! Barnabay from @clownsuu 's Mob!AU

I'm not usually someone who's into AU's but I'm obsessed with this Mob!AU especially the plot about Branaby and his mother.

So I had to make fanart for my favorite moment in the plotline (but make it worst)

CW: GUTS ,GORE, BLOOD AND MORBID THEMES

Nothing will hurt Ms Beagle and the bond with her son with be unbreakable

Hello! Please could you write something where the reader accidentally breaks something of Toms like his guitar or an award or something and gets really upset and worried that he’ll be mad but he’s not and he’s really soft and sweet 💔😭

irreplaceable

a/n: hello! so i’ve got a list of things i will be writing, so please be patient if you sent in a request... i’m working on a new fic every day because i don’t want to squeeze too much work into one day; these fics take me a while to write... anyways enjoy xx

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, accidental injuries, angst, fluff

masterlist                     prompt list

You were browsing through Tom’s room, letting your eyes take a break from staring at a screen for too long. Of course you’ve been living with him since the quarantine, but you never took the time to look deeply through his room, seeing as you were always preoccupied with work or other things like Tom. 

You walked over to the white shelf with many picture frames propped on top of it. Each one had a different picture of Tom, from when he was a baby to recent events. You picked up the crystal framed image. You examined him huddled with his family and Paddy standing in the front, all of them wearing their Brother’s Trust shirts. You admired how close together they looked. You loved your own family, but you couldn’t imagine having and being part of such an amazing family like Tom’s. 

You smiled to yourself, forgetting about the picture in your hand. Tom had brought you into the family. He had always been there for you and so were the rest of the Hollands. Nikki treated you as if you were her daughter-in-law, as well as Dom. The Holland brothers were very close with you, befriending you the moment you were introduced. You sighed, full of content.

“Y/N-” Harry burst into the room.

You dropped the picture in your hand, listening to the loud shatter as it made contact with the wooden floor. You fell to your knees, trying to save as much as you could. Luckily, the image itself wasn’t harmed, but the frame was completely demolished. You tried to retrieve the chunks of crystals and put them together but some pieces were missing that you couldn’t find.

“Oh my god! Y/N!” The twin rushed over to you, trying to pull you off the ground.

Unbeknownst to you, you were kneeling on shards of broken glass. The pain was numbed by the fear and guilt you were feeling. Tears ran down your face, and you let out a loud sob.

“It’s alright,” Harry cooed, stroking your back, “Look, I need you to get up. Your legs are covered in blood.”

You refused, tugging your arm away when he gently gripped it. Unconsciously, you slammed your hand back into the mess of glass, cutting your hand as well.

“We need to get you cleaned up. It’s only a picture,” he said, trying to calm you.

You finally spoke, “Bu-But the frame was made of crystals. It must’ve been so expensive,” through blurred vision, you could see the mess you made, “and look at this mess.”

You were utterly ashamed of yourself. For all you know, that frame could’ve costed hundreds of dollars. It must’ve meant loads to Tom.

“He’s going to be so mad,” you whispered shaking your head in shame.

“Who? Tom?” You nodded. “That’s complete nonsense. Tom would never. He’ll forgive you if you tell him it was an accident, which it was.”

You gave in to Harry’s pleads, letting him clean the mess for you while you went to take a hot bath to calm yourself down. Only when you looked in the mirror had you seen what a mess you became. Blood was dripping from your knees and palms, looking like you committed a murder. After the bath, you were able to collect yourself and prepare yourself to confess to Tom. Still afraid he would be mad, you put on a pair of Nike Pro shorts with your own shirt. Usually you wore his shirts, but this time, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Harry had cleaned the scene to be completely spotless, as if nothing had happened at all. If Tom didn’t notice the missing picture, you could probably get away with it, but it would cruel of you to keep this a secret from him.

“Hey, Tommy,” your voice was quiet and shaking.

“Hello, love. How are you?” He looked up from his paperwork, smiling at you.

“G-Good,” you were looking everywhere but at him.

“Love, you’re bleeding,” he rushed up from his seat to examine your knees. He hadn’t seen your hands as they were hidden behind your back.

“Oh, I forgot to patch them up,” you laughed nervously. You couldn’t help but let tears fill your eyes, “I’ve gotta tell you something, Tommy.” He looked up at you, a frantic look on his face. You forced your tears back, “I-I broke your picture frame with the crystals!”

You expected him to burst and yell at you, telling you to get out, but instead, he furrowed his brows and sighed.

“That’s not important right now. You need to get these,” he tapped above your cuts, “wrapped up. I don’t want you to bleed out,” he rose from his kneeling stance, kissing you on your forehead.

“Are you not mad?” You asked, eyes shining with innocence.

“Of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“I broke your-” your breath hitched, “your frame,” you winced at the memory as it hurt you to say it.

“Darling, you are more important than a silly picture frame. I can get that replaced whenever I want. You, on the other hand, are irreplaceable,” he bopped your nose.

“Thank goodness,” you hurriedly wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He chuckled, stroking your back as you squeezed the air out of him.

“C’mon, darling, we’ve gotta get you fixed up, alright? Then you can have all the cuddles you want,” he pulled you off of him, lifting you bridal style back to his room.

“Mhm, and Tommy?” He looked at you, “My hands are also bleeding,” you lifted your hands, revealing your bloodied palms.

“We’ll fix those, too, love,” he placed a chaste kiss to your lips.

You saw Harry walk by and waved at him, smile radiating with happy energy. You might’ve waved too aggressively because blood flung from your palms and onto your clothes.

Tom chuckled at your adorableness, “And let’s change you into one of my shirts, hm?”

You nodded fervently like a child getting what they’ve been desiring for a while.

You had no idea how you ended with the fiercest mobster, yet softest boyfriend in the universe.

Oh ok yeah thanks #57

taken for granted

a/n: this came out longer than expected, it’s almost 3000 words... this is probably super angsty, maybe... also, i’m going to work on ‘nothing can go wrong’ soon but i have to write two essays for school so i’m sorry if there is a delay... enjoy xx

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: swearing, angsty shit, fluff at the end, mob!tom is a dick

masterlist                     prompt list

57. “Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not.”

Tom rarely spent any of his time with you now. He was always too preoccupied with his mobster duties. On rare occasions, he would join you in your shared bed, but by the time he arrived, you were already fast asleep. You always tried to fit with his schedule to at least say goodnight to him or wake up to see him by your side, but all your attempts failed. So when Tom said he had a free day, which he could have whenever he wanted seeing he was his own boss, you jumped at the opportunity.

You woke, bundled in the white sheets, yawning and stretching before looking to the usually empty space beside you. Tom laid there, curls tousled and chest heaving peacefully. You felt a warmth in your core, and you smiled. 

You decided to get ready for your day with your boyfriend, preparing brunch and a list of things you could do together in your single day together.

things to do:

1. eat brunch together

2. go out on a romantic walk

3. have afternoon tea

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

6. make a surprise dinner for tom

7. snuggle and let the rest of the night flow as it goes

Tom sat up on the bed, stretching his arms while letting out a loud yawn. He hadn’t slept this well in a while. 

A delectable aroma blew into the room, tickling his nose. He breathed in the scent, following it to its source. He stared at the table of his favorite foods displayed in front of him. 

You entered the dining room holding another plate of food. You placed the platter neatly between two other plates, finishing off your first surprise for Tom.

“Christ, darling, what’s all this for?” Tom spoke.

You jumped, not realizing he had been standing there, “Oh my goodness, Thomas, you scared me,” you looked at the food, “It’s all for you. I wanted to make your day off enjoyable. Besides, we haven’t spent much time together in a while.”

He smiled, “I love you so much.”

Blushing, you replied, “I love you, too. Now let’s eat.”

Brunch was pleasant but awkward. You didn’t know what to talk about with him, so you resorted to staring at him while he ranted about problems. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for his problems, but you wanted this day to be about the both of you. You plastered a genuine smile on your face, though it began to falter.

“I was thinking that we could go out to town and just walk around, that is if you want,” you suggested when the two of you finished your meal.

“O-Oh, um, sure. Let me go get ready, love,” he walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before quietly thanking you.

His small signs of affection were enough to erase your worries. You told yourself you overreacted about him talking about himself at breakfast. He did care.

-

Hand in hand, you and Tom strolled through the crowded streets of Kingston upon Thames. You admired the beautiful city, feeling lucky to be able to live there. 

More than you wanted, Tom’s attention went to his phone. He laughed and smiled at whatever was on his phone. He typed away, glowing with happiness.

You felt a pang of jealousy.

Who could be making Tom feel like this? He seems to be enjoying his day more with the person throw his screen than the one right beside him. You thought to yourself, grip loosening on his hand.

He didn’t notice the change, and you frowned. Your boyfriend was glowing with happiness, and you would be a bad girlfriend if you ruined it. You put on a fake smile, hoping it would convince him even though he hadn’t looked at you at all since brunch.

He cares, you convinced yourself.

“Um, Tom?” You asked, seeing the tea house you were planning to get afternoon tea at.

“Mhm?” His eyes were locked on his phone.

“I was thinking that we could get some afternoon tea. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you tried to look him in the eyes, only to fail miserably.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he mumbled.

Still holding his hand, you pulled him to the building. The receptionist looked at Tom then to you, noticing the lack of attention he was giving you. You tried to smile it off, but she gave you a look of sympathy before bringing you to your table.

It was a shame Tom’s eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. The table you’d gotten had a perfect view of River Thames. 

“Tom,” you squeaked.

He didn’t respond.

“Tom,” you said louder.

Still no answer.

“Tom,” you said in a demanding voice.

His head snapped up, “What?”

You sighed. This day was definitely going unexpectedly. The worse part about it all was that you wanted the day to be over. You were mad at yourself for that. He cares about you, so why couldn’t you care about him?

“D’you like how the day’s going?” You asked in a softer tone.

“Mhm, great,” he said flatly.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you let him go back to ogling his phone. You wanted to cry. The only day you had with him, wasted.

Tears filled your eyes, feeling ignored by Tom. To avoid tears from rolling down your cheeks and exposing your true feelings about how the day was going, you dismissed yourself to the ladies room. 

Tom heard the rawness in your voice and looked up. Your head was down as you excused yourself. He carefully watched you as you quickly scattered away. He heard a sniffle but doubted that it came from you. You were the one who dragged him along, anyways.

-

You were thankful to be back home. You didn’t feel like preparing a grand dinner anymore. You felt like going to sleep and end the day. 

Goddamnit, Y/N! Pull yourself together. He’s always putting you on top. You need to put him on top now, you scolded yourself.

Trying to muster up all the remaining sanity in you, you headed to the kitchen and worked away. 

Hours passed as you prepared the meal. You made sure nothing went wrong, working slowly. With precision, you plated each meal. Your hands shook, and you droplets of sweat rolled down your forehead. 

“Done,” you murmured to yourself, smiling.

Everything looked beautifully put together, as you were an amateur. You gave yourself a small pat on the back. Then it struck you. You missed some things on your list.

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

You slapped your forehead. Where had the time gone? You felt terrible. You missed a couple hours of spending time with your boyfriend. Hopefully the dinner would make up for it.

-

Unsurprisingly, dinner wasn’t much different from the rest of the day. You were thrown to the side while he enjoyed himself.

No, he hasn’t had the time to relax and enjoy himself in a while. I can’t blame him for that, you sighed, I just wish he would enjoy and relax with me.

“Thanks for the dinner, darling. It was... delicious,” he hesitated.

Your attention moved to him. You gave him a small smile, feeling slightly offended by his hesitation.

He left the room, moving to the living room. You were left to do all the dishes and work by yourself. 

Great.

-

You stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off. You slipped on Tom’s oversized shirt, wearing a matching set of lingerie underneath. You hoped it was enough to grab his attention.

You heard murmuring downstairs. You walked down the stairs, seeing Tom on the couch with Tuwaine, Harrison, and Harry.

“H-Hello, boys,” you said, catching their attention. “Sorry about my - um - improper outfit. I didn’t know you’d be coming over.”

“S’alright, love. Mind getting us some wine, though?” Harrison asked, smirking.

“But-- I-- Sure,” you said pathetically.

You brought them four glasses and an expensive bottle of wine, opened of course. 

You settled beside Tom, who inched away from you. It struck your heart.

“Don’t you think you should at least go get properly dressed before joining us?” He glared at you.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you whispered, feeling a tug at your heart. “I think I’ll be heading to bed now. Goodnight,” you announced, walking away in a rush.

You rushed up the stairs only to hear Tom complain, “She gets so clingy and annoying.”

Tears poured down your cheeks. A silent sob ripped from your lips. You ran to the room, tripping over yourself several times.

He didn’t care at all. He cares about himself. Only him, you realized.

-

“Mate, she’s your girlfriend. She cares about you. You shouldn’t say that shit about her,” Tuwaine said, feeling sympathy for the girl.

“It’s true, she’s been clinging to my ass all day,” Tom groaned.

“Have you gone out with her recently? Talked to her, at least?” Harrison asked.

Tom didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the bottles of wine ahead of him. That answered enough.

“Tom, did you think that she just missed you?” Harry interrupted the silence.

“Just drop it, guys,” Tom snapped, starting to feel slightly guilty. 

-

You laid in your shared bed, holding yourself in your arms. The blanket wrapped around your body as a shield. 

Quiet sobs escaped your mouth, tears rolling onto your pillow. You were offended Tom would call you ‘clingy’ and ‘annoying.’ You tried so hard to make this day good for him, and he thinks you’re clingy.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, happy that Tom didn’t come to bed before you fell asleep for once. 

-

Tuwaine, Harry, and Haz left after a couple wines. They tried to convince him to treat you better but only received the response, “Let’s talk about something else.”

Tom had seen his own faults after a long, irritating talk with the boys. He was being an ass to you for no reason.

He hurried up the stairs after putting all the dishes into the sink, hoping to catch you awake. To his dismay, you were already out. Tear streaks decorated your puffy face while some new tears slowly moved down your face.

He placed a pained kiss to your forehead. You stirred, moving into his familiar touch. A small smile danced on your lips. His hand moved to caress your cheek, admiring your beauty even when you were in pain.

Without waking you, he slid into the space beside you in bed. He held your waist, nuzzling his face in your neck. You pressed against him, attracted to the heat. He smiled and leaned to kiss your head again.

“Goodnight, darling,” he whispered before drifting to sleep.

-

You woke up with a pounding headache. You tried to sit up but something, or someone, held you down. You looked at the warm figure holding you and saw Tom with his arms wrapped around you. You felt a sting in your chest and tried to pull away. 

You were able to maneuver out of his arms without waking him.

Dizzily, you made your way to the kitchen. You got yourself a cup of water and took some pain relievers. You plopped onto the couch lying on your side. Your legs tucked, and you curled your body into a ball. Without knowing, you fell asleep not too long after.

-

Tom noticed you were out of bed when he woke.

“Darling?” He mumbled, looking around.

With no response, he assumed you had gone to the kitchen for breakfast.

He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Surprisingly, you weren’t there. He saw a cup and pain relievers lying on the counter.

“Princess?” He looked around, still no sight of you.

He walked over to the dining room then to the living room. He saw your limp body on the couch, letting out soft sighs. You were cuddled into a tight ball, shivering from the cold. Picking up a blanket from the room, he draped it over your shaking body. He sat on the couch with you, rubbing your body warm over the blankets. 

-

You felt a weighted cloth enrapture you, giving you warmth. Instinctively, you snuggled into it. A pressure rubbed up and down your arm, further warming you.

You opened your eyes to see Tom hovering over you. You looked closely at him, believing this to be your imagination. Under the sheets, you pinched yourself and felt sharp pains on your arms.

“Ow,” you mumbled.

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asked, worry flooding his features.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sat up and began to put some distance between the two of you.

“Where are you going?” He scooted closer to you until you had no where else to go.

“I gotta get ready. You should, too, ‘cause, y’know, work,” you fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist as you began to walk away, “I don’t have to do anything today. I can stay with you.”

“No, it’s alright. Besides, there must be someone to interrogate today,” you snapped, pulling your wrist from his grip.

He didn’t know why your mood had changed. Just yesterday, you were so loving and warm to him. 

Did you overhear him last night? He worried.

“Love,” he knocked on the door, “can I come in?”

He heard a couple of sniffles behind the closed door and frowned to himself.

“Just a sec,” you called out with a pained voice.

Tom could hear your tears in you voice and concerningly asked, “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, just fine,” you squeaked, slowly feeling your composure falter.

“Darling, open the door,” he demanded.

“Wait a moment, please,” you said too weakly.

“Open the do-”

“I will,” you snapped, “I’m trying to get ready, s’all,” you replied with a calmer tone.

You heard no response from him and expected that he left, so you jumped when the door was thrown open. The brunette stood in the doorway, staring at your red rimmed eyes.

“Tom, I’m fine,” you wiped away a stray tear, smiling, “See? Perfectly fine.”

“No, you’re not! Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not,” he growled.

“It’s not much of your problem, is it?” You glared at him, beginning to lose your patience.

“Not much of my problem? How is my girlfriend not my problem? It’s my duty to protect and care for you. Why are you-” He was infuriated.

“Well I wouldn’t want to come off as too clingy! Maybe I don’t want to annoy you!” You shouted.

So you did hear him, Tom sighed.

Seeing the evident guilt and shock in his face, you continued, “That’s right, I heard it. You couldn’t’ve even waited for me to get back to the room! Some boyfriend you are,” you mumbled the end, pushing past him.

“Wait,” he called after you, “I didn’t mean what I said. It was just in the heat of the moment. I was just stressed with everything going with the mob.”

“Right,” you nodded unbelievably.

“Haz and them helped me see that I was the one in the wrong. I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry, love, truly, very sorry,” he pouted at you.

“You really hurt me, Tom. I planned a whole day out for us yesterday. You ignored me for practically the entire day,” you hiccuped, a rush of disappointment filled you.

“I know. I’m so sorry, love. I was such an asshole. You deserve to be treated better. I’ll fix that, I swear. I’ll spend more time with you. We could go on dates again. I’ll even make sure that I’ll go to bed with you,” he carefully walked over to you as if you would run if he got too close.

“But how would I know if you were talking shit about me to your mob cronies?” You asked, doubtful to trust him.

“I’ll personally have Haz, Tuwaine, or Harry slap me if I do, but no need to worry, love, I won’t take you for granted anymore,” he placed a gentle kiss to your head, “Now, would you like to join me for a day of just us?”

You giggled, “No, I wouldn’t,” hurt filled Tom’s features, “I would love to.”

“You’re such a tease,” he chuckled, “but I love you for it.”

You smiled up at him, “I missed having you around, Tommy. I spent so many nights yearning for you.”

“No more nights like that, alright? I’m here til the end of the line,” he answered softly.

-

And so, Tom kept his word. Everything has changed. He became the same Tom that you had met at the coffee shop. You obviously still disagreed with him running the mob, but he would always reassure you, telling you that he wouldn’t leave you.

He didn’t did care after all. He cares about himself the both of us. Only him us, you realized.

you lied / forever and always | fluff ending

a/n: this is one ending that you can choose from, the other is angst... if you haven’t read ‘you lied,’ go check read it before you read this at the link below... enjoy xx

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, did i mention fluff?

masterlist                     prompt list

! you lied read first | angst ending !

“Darling, I-I never meant to scare you. I’m so sorry, love,” he moved closer to you.

The pepper spray can fell from your grip, and your knees buckled, causing you to topple over. Tom caught you before you could hit the floor. You sobbed in his shoulder, murmuring inaudible words.

“I’m here for you, love, I always am,” he whispered, stroking your back.

“I’m sorry,” you cried.

“You shouldn’t be. If anything I should be the one apologizing,” he muttered into your hair.

A loud sob ripped from your lips once more, and Tom felt his heart painfully slowly breaking. He knew he deserved it, though.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, darling,” he pulled you out of the hug to allow your eyes to meet.

You blinked at him innocently, eyes red rimmed with tears slipping from the edges. With his the pad of his thumb, he wiped away the droplets before placing kisses on both your cheeks, traveling to your lips. You half-giggled and half-hiccuped at the gesture.

“Listen, love, please don’t be afraid or ashamed of me,” you nodded in response.

You sat for a moment, then softly laughed, “Who knew my soft boyfriend was a vicious mobster?”

He laughed with you, feeling butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Suddenly, your laughter came to a halt.

“You lied to me, Tommy. Please don’t do it ever again,” you murmured, pouting at him with a seriousness in your tone.

“So, are you afraid of me?” He looked at you with his irresistible puppy dog eyes.

Placing your small hand to his face, you caressed his cheek, “I could never be afraid of you... well, maybe. You’re very scary after a night without cuddles or calls and when you don’t get your ‘big boy’ meals.”

“Am not,” he whined like a child.

“Am too,” you booped his nose.

The banter went on for minutes until Tom suggested that both of you get some rest. Not wanting him to leave, you grasped his arm tightly and yanked him into bed with you.

“Cuddles, pwease?” You whispered in a baby voice.

Rolling his eyes, he replied, “Of course, bub.”

He held you close to his chest, breathing in your sent.

“You know that I love you, right?” He said, voice hoarse.

“Forever and always,” you muttered into his shirt. The two of you laid in silence for a while until you spoke up, “You know that I love you, right?” You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Forever and always, my love.”

stay away from me

a/n: if this has many errors in it, i’m sorry, i wrote this while i was half-asleep... alright i’m sleeping, goodnight x

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: angst, infidelity, swearing

masterlist                     prompt list

You excitedly skipped to Tom’s office, having a surprise set up for him. You reached the doors of the room and lightly knocked on the door. 

No response,

You pressed your ear against the door and knocked again. You heard a muffled noise coming from inside and chose to open the door.

The sight you saw before you broke your heart.

Tom was pounding another woman on his desk.

A loud sob ripped from your lips, catching Tom’s attention. The moment you locked eyes with him, you ran off in hurt, disgust, betrayal.

“Y/N, wait!” You heard him call after you.

You didn’t listen. You kept your pace and rushed to back to your vehicle, but you were too late.

“Y/N, please,” Tom’s hand grabbed your wrist.

Quickly, you snatched your arm out of his grip. Looking at him disgusted you. The man you trusted with your life had just cheated on you with some- some- some slut!

“I’m sorry, I- she just offered herself to me, and I haven’t gotten some from you in a while, seeing as you’re so busy now-” he began.

You scoffed, “Don’t blame this on me. Don’t blame it on that girl. This is on you.”

“I know, but I’m sorry. I won’t do it ever again. Just please down leave me, I can’t lose you,” he tried to step closer to you, but you only stepped further away from him.

“Stay away from me,” you hissed, “And besides, you lost me when I saw you fucking that other girl.” You spoke your final words and got into your car, locking it immediately. You could see Tom complaining from the corner of your eye, but you pulled out of the position you were in as fast as you could.

Tom stared longingly at your car as you became a smaller dot the further you drove away.

a stupid mistake

my gif please don’t steal 🥰

a/n: sorry for the month long hiatus... i’ve been stress recently with not having many friends and moving along with my school,,, it’s also my first anniversary of starting this tumblr so look out for that (it should be this friday i think)... enjoy the angsty fic ♥︎

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: cursing, sO much AngSt, slight slut-shaming, light violence, pure fluff at the end uwu

masterlist                     prompt list              add yourself on my taglist!

It all started with your forgetfulness. You were stressed and worried because of Tom. You knew how dangerous it was for him to be running the strongest mob in England. Worries littered your thoughts, and you couldn’t help but be forgetful. 

You didn’t understand how Tom could’ve gotten so infuriated about you forgetting to lock the front door of your flat. Yes, you knew he was only caring for your well-being, but his reaction was excessive. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve gotten into serious danger! What if a rival mob came here and took you away? Do you realize how careless you’re being?” Tom shouted at you, fists clenched.

You looked at him with wide, watering eyes, “I-It was just a stupid mistake. Besides, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He scoffs, laughing at your counter. A hand moves from his hips and runs through his gelled, brunette locks. He saunters over to the fireplace, looking at the picture frames of moments you shared together. With another chuckle, he sent the frames crashing to the floor.

You flinched at the resonating sound.

“A stupid mistake,” he whispers to himself, “Would it’ve been stupid if someone kidnapped you and used you against me?”

You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off by his seething stare.

“I know that you’re still here. You got lucky, so what? Do you want them to take you away? Are you with me to whore around with other mobs?” He spat.

You looked up at your boyfriend, hurt accented your features.

“I would never use anyone to whore around, especially not with you. I can’t believe you would even say that. Out of all people, I’d think you’d know me best. I guess I was wrong,” you murmured the end, arms hugging yourself.

You heard his footsteps approaching you. Your eyes were trained on the crystal droplets on the wooden floor. Tears were uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks and onto the ground. When you knew Tom wasn’t looking, you would quickly wipe them away. To your dismay, you knew his eyes were locked on you, giving you leeway to dry your tears.

“I don’t think you should be talking back to me,” he gripped one of your arms tightly, “I’ve given you everything you could dream for, and this is how you repay me? By making yourself a free target?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” you spoke weakly.

“You forgot? You have nothing to do. You’re living your life off of me. You can do whatever the hell you want, whenever you want. So, please, tell me how you could forget a task as simple as locking the door?” He placed a finger at your chin, forcing your red-rimmed eyes to meet his.

Your lips shook as you said nothing but stared into his raging eyes. Whoever this man ahead of you was, it certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Your Tom. This Tom was the man behind mysterious disappearances and stomach turning murders. 

This wasn’t an argument between to lovers anymore; it was an interrogation between a surprised victim and the devil.

A whimper escaped your lips, following strings of sobs. Your tears flowed freely, drenching your face. You closed your eyes to avoid the man’s stare, but it was all you could see. 

You could feel his grip loosen and took the opportunity to run. You bolted up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. You slammed the door behind you and made sure to lock it.

You could hear his loud footsteps nearing the door and decided to reinforce the door by placing a chair against it. Feeling slightly secured, you jumped into your bed and buried yourself under the sheets. 

A gentle knock sounded, “Y/N, darling?”

You pulled your pillow into the sheets and wrapped your head with it, attempting to block out his voice. 

Tom was the last person you wanted to think about at that moment and time, but he was stuck in your mind. His piercing stare was engraved in your memory.

Another knock.

“Love? If you can hear me, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I really love and care for you and knowing that you’re in danger because of me breaks my heart. I’m so sorry if I scared you earlier. Please open the door,” he spoke softly.

You pulled the pillow harder and squeezed your eyes shut, holding back your tears. You were silently begging for him to leave you alone. Fortunately, after waiting a bit longer, you were met with complete silence.

The silence was disturbed by the faint sound of key jangling and a chair scraping against the floor.

You scrunched yourself into a tighter ball as if it would shield and hide you.

“Y/N?” Tom looked at the lump on the bed.

You heard rustling and felt the bed dip under his weight. A light hand was placed on your shoulder and began to stroke you in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m really, truly am sorry. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I’m just worried about you. If anything happens to you, it’s on me. It’s because I failed to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing you got hurt because of me.” Failing to get a response from you, he continued, “I don’t deserve you. You’re a blessing in disguise, my blessing in disguise. I remember those dark days before I met you. Training drained all of my energy and left me feeling weak and unworthy of life. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror whilst getting ready. Everything felt dull. Then, I met you. You brought the happiness back into my life. I felt so... so complete, so full of life. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if  I’d even be here, today. You saved me. You, the love of my life.”

You relaxed under him and peeked your head out under the sheets. You looked at him with soft, admiring eyes. He looked back at you with adoring eyes, flashing you a gracious smile.

“Please believe me, love. I know I hurt you, and I know what I said was wrong, but I love you with all my heart. You can leave me if you want; it’s what I deserve, anyways,” his eyes filled with tears, and he looked away, avoiding your gaze.

As a tear rolled down his cheek, you reached out and wiped it away. He looked at you, shocked. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered earnestly.

With a laugh, he dropped himself on top of you, enveloping you in his arms. He placed kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Tommy, stop,” you blushed, pushing him away. With a more serious tone in your voice, you spoke, “I forgot to lock the door because I was worried about you, Tommy. You’ve been working so hard, recently, and when you come with those deep dark circles under your eyes, it breaks my heart. I’m sorry for being so careless. I must’ve caused unnecessary panic.”

He softens at your reasoning and caresses your cheek, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. If I’d known you were worried for me, I wouldn’t’ve reacted that way. I’m so sorry.”

“From now on, can we talk things out peacefully? I hate fighting with you,” you pouted at the brunette.

“I agree,” he smiled, “Now, let’s just cuddle and sleep away the day. Would you like that?”

“I would,” you replied before reaching up to kiss him, only to miss.

Chuckling, he leaned down and completed the kiss for you.

Love your writing

If you have time please write some soft #mob!tom

failed surprises

pairing: soft mob!tom x reader

genre: angst, mostly fluff

warnings: y/n worrying about tom, sobbing, holding each other, soft comforting with tom

a/n: i’m not really back from my hiatus but i just wanted to give you guys something to read,,, enjoy i guess 

masterlist

You sat quiet and alone in your large, shared bedroom. The television ahead of you shone brightly, but you paid it no mind. Your eyes were glued to your phone, reading each text Tom had sent you before going on his “business trip.” You hadn’t heard from him for days, and knowing his job, there was a possibility he wouldn’t come back.

how’s my darling? i hope you’re safe and healthy. i wish i could be with you. don’t stay up too late. i love you! goodnight baby ♡

sent: 1:39 A.M. September 29, 2020

Tears rolled down your face as the dark thoughts sunk deeper into your mind. You tried your best to fight away these thoughts, but you were too weak. You were fatigued, worried, and depressed. You could easily drown in your emotions, and you did.

The soft hums from the television were interrupted by your heart-wrenching sobs. You clutched your phone close to your chest and let your tears flow freely.

Unbeknownst to you, though, was that the man you yearned so deeply for was standing right outside of your door. 

Tom had planned on surprising you, not texting you about the date of his arrival. He thought that it would be a fun, pleasant gift to surprise you with his presence, but once he heard your pained cries coming from your shared room, he immediately regretted his plan.

Dropping the flowers he held in his hands, he opened the door to see you laying on your side, the television’s brightness lighting you multiple different colors.

He rushed over to your side, holding your shaking body in his arms.

“It’s alright, darling, I’m here,” you immediately responded to the sound of his voice, cuddling further into the familiar scent.

“Tommy,” your voice squeaked.

His hand reached to the top of your head and began to stroke your hair, “I’m here, love, I’m back.”

“You’re back,” you hiccuped.

“That’s right, love. I’m so sorry for worrying you. I thought it would be a good idea to surprise you. That’s why I didn’t talk to you for these past few days,” he placed a kiss at the top of your head.

Reassured that he was in no harm not that you expected him to get hurt, i mean look at him, your tears came to a halt, and a smile made its way onto your lips. You stretched yourself upwards and stole a quick kiss from Tom, making him blink in shock.

“You’re stupid,” you said blatantly, “If you wanted to surprise me, you should’ve stayed in contact with me. I get that you spoil things a lot, but you really know how to worry a woman.”

“I do not spoil things easily,” he pouted, furrowing his brows.

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t ruin your own Valentine’s Day plan by accidentally telling me a week earlier?” You arched a brow at him, fully knowing he couldn’t deny it.

“Ugh, fine, I admit I messed up that once, but-” you cut him off with another one of his mishaps.

“And that time, on my birthday-” you’re cut off abruptly by Tom’s rushed acknowledgements.

“Okay, okay, so I do spoil things a lot. You still love me, though,” he smirked, kissing the tip of your nose.

“That I do,” you giggled, cheeks flushing a rose red.

The two of you sat in each other’s embrace, the sound of the your quiet television humming keeping the room from being silent.

Tom admired your puffy, pink cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, staring at your beautiful figure. He loved every part of you, from every flaw to perfection. 

“What?” You squirmed under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he smiled softly, “’m just grateful to have met such an amazing girl, even have the chance to make her mine forever.”

As he talked about you, you swore you could see his eyes twinkling with love and admiration. You hoped your eyes shone like his when you looked at him.

Oh, how the two of you were whipped, in your own world, loving each other with all of your life.