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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

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landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #hi bam!!!!#ian #jungkook fluff

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simpcityy · 11 months

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I'm Not Her Pt.2 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel… Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

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You woke up to the smell of bacon being cooked. Odd? Who is cooking if no one is home. Sitting up from your bed, you glanced at the time seeing it was 10am. Walking out of the room the smell of bacon got stronger. In front of you was your father Miguel cooking breakfast. You quickly rubbed your eyes wanting to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Buenos días, cariño*” Miguel glances back at you hearing the creek of the floorboards. You only stood there in shock. He’s home for once and calling you with love and affection. “I…Um…good morning?” You finally replied back sitting down on the chair slowly. He placed a plate in front of you and took a seat across from you. “(Y.N) …Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre*.” He began. “I know I left you all on your own, but I have to man up and fix my mistakes.” He looks at you before slowly holding your hand “and I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll try my best.” He smiles before slowly releasing your hand. You only stood there stunned thinking about it. Did Lyla talk to him? Did Peter? So many thoughts were running around your head before letting out a sigh. “I …what made you have a change of heart…you know that yesterday was my- “he cuts you off, “I know it was your birthday and I’m sorry” he pulls out a box from under the table. You were so shocked about this new side of your dad that you didn’t even see the box when you sat down. “Happy Late Birthday “he smiles, sliding the box towards you. You slowly open it inside before gasping seeing the latest technology you’ve always wanted. You dug your hand till it hit the bottom and saw a ticket to your favorite concert. “How did you know I wanted this? I always begged you to let me see this singer, but you wouldn’t hear me out…I…” you are feeling so many emotions. “I told you I was going to try my best to fix this” he smiles before letting out a grunt as you tackle him into a hug “thank you! Thank you!” You chanted. Miguel only lets out a small smile rubbing your back affectionately. You let him go and walked to the top cabinet grabbing a glass to fill. “let’s have breakfast before you head to work “you smile enjoying this small moment with him. Maybe your wish did come true, to stop feeling alone.

You walked down the halls of your high school. It was going to be your last year and you promised your friends you were going to make it a blast. Humming out a song you unlocked your locker. “Hey boo you’re in a much better mood.” Lyla appeared inside your locker snapping a selfie with you. “Glad you’re here, did you talk to my dad?” You asked her while collecting the items you’ll need on this day. “ wha? No, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” She looks at the selfie editing it. “He came home and made breakfast. He also got me tickets for the concert.” You smile enthusiastically looking at the AI. Lyla watches you “he did?” She was concerned, if she remembered correctly…Miguel was at the base this morning working but then again, he did slip out for a moment so maybe that’s where he went. Lyla only smiles “I’m so glad boo! Maybe Peter talked with him?” You nodded “I was thinking the same. Alright, I got to go Lyla.” You closed the locker going on to continue your education. Lyla stood in the pitch dark of the locker in deep thought “I’ll have to talk to Miguel” she mutters before disappearing.

School for once was a day you enjoyed, maybe it has to do with the fact you're slowly getting your father back. You’ll have to thank Peter once you get the chance to visit the Society HQ. You start to wonder what made him realize he has a daughter here. All this thinking made you hungry, spotting your favorite empanada stand. You walked over and got in line. ‘Maybe I’ll order extra to bring home’ you thought before smiling, giving your order to the kind old lady. Once you reached home, you closed the door behind you. “Are you home?” You call out placing the bag on the table. “Ya has vuelto de la escuela*?” Miguel emerges from the kitchen door. He glances at the bag. “Y eso?” He walked over looking into the box. “ I got you some empanadas” You smile before letting it falter seeing him sniff the bag. His face of disgust was present, “I’m not hungry, you eat it.” He quickly replaces the face of disgust into a smile. Something wasn’t right here, he loved empanadas. He would never reject it. “But it’s your favorite?” You sat down and grabbed a couple for yourself. Miguel grabs a glass of water, his back turned to you. He panicked for a bit before adding on, “Yes but I think I ate too many last time that it just makes me dislike it” He walks over rubbing your head, “It will go away and I’ll go back to liking them okay?” He pressed his lips to the side of your head before sitting down next to you. “Cómo fue tu día en la escuela*?” He asked. You only nodded taking his excuse before smiling, feeling his lip on the side of your head. “ It went well!” You ate the empanada while telling him how your day went.

Lyla stood behind Miguel watching him work away. “Hey Miguel” She appears in front of him. “Quick question” Miguel looks up at her and only grunts telling her to go on. “That was nice of you to get (Y/N) tickets to the concert” She sits on his shoulder waiting for his response. His answer only made her glitch and worried for you.

“What tickets?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Authors Note: Thank you so much! Your comments and likes made me see how this NEEDED to be a series. I'm still working on the other two projects hopefully next week I'll be able to complete the series for Location Status. So, I can focus on my other projects. Sorry for any grammar on the first part, I was using a tablet and it was all new to me. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 66💕) Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Please reblog so others can be aware of my works! ILY 💕

Spanish Translation: (Remember some have double meaning or similar meaning) 1. “Buenos días, cariño: Good Morning Sweetie 2. Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre: Listen, I know I'm not the best father (Dad) 3. Ya has vuelto de la escuela: Are you back from school? 4. Y eso: And that or whats that? 5. Cómo fue tu día en la escuela: How was your day at school?

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #father figure miguel ohara #miguel ohara x platonic reader #miguel ohara x daughter reader

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shoddynomenclature · 5 months

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Companions Find Tav Wounded

Thank you to everyone who suggested a prompt! #3 (Tav is kidnapped) was definitely the top suggestion, and I will probably do that one eventually, but I’ve already seen it done a couple of times. So I decided to do this one instead. Mostly y’all just like when I torture poor Tav and it gets real angsty in here. I hope this fills all your angst needs.

I kinda rushed Lae’zel and Jaheira’s bits, so that’s why they’re so much shorter.

Anyway, Tav goes out to the forest to gather some supplies and is unexpectedly attacked. The companions find them beaten close to camp.

Shadowheart

You hear her calling your name into the surrounding forest. You try to scream, but nothing but a quiet groan leaves your lips.

The next moments are hazy and fragmented, like small shards of glass glued together to make a fuller picture.

Shadowheart is kneeling over you, whispering a prayer that seals your veins closed and makes your skin feel cool. It is not enough. She screams desperately for help.

When none comes, you feel her arms under yours, dragging you across a clearing till you are resting slumped against a tree. You hear her speaking to you but the words do not register.

You try to fight the darkness that seeks to overtake your vision, but it is no use. You lose consciousness.

When you wake up, you are back at camp, laid carefully across a bedroll. Your entire body screams with pain as a wet cloth gently cleans your wounds.

You squirm, instinctively trying to move away from the stinging cloth.

A gentle hand strokes your head. “You’re doing great, love. Just try to stay as still as you can.” She continues to pet your hair softly as she works.

Her hands glow blue as she runs them over your hemorrhaged skin. You feel lightheaded and the darkness creeps into your sight again. Your eyes flutter.

“Just a little longer, love,” she coos. “Just stay with me a little longer. You’re doing so well.”

Your entire body radiates with pain, but you focus your energy on staying awake. Your vision blurs and you grind your teeth together. “Can you… talk to me while you heal me?” You ask. “Keep me distracted.”

Shadowheart looks at you sheepishly. She’s not sure how to fill the silence on her own, but she wants to help. She does the only things she knows to do, and begins to sing a hymn.

You grip the bedroll, attempting to steady yourself. Her song makes your muscles relax and the healing begins to hurt less and less.

“Okay, love, it’s over. You did wonderfully,” she kisses your forehead and positions your head into her lap. She gently starts to untangle your blood crusted hair. “Rest now.”

You smile. Your body is still excruciatingly sore, but you nuzzle her thigh and kiss it gently before lulling off to sleep.

Lae’zel

You’re already unconscious when Lae’zel finds you beaten and broken in the forest clearing. You’re jolted awake by the pain that comes from your broken bones being slung over her shoulder.

You groan pitifully. She ignores you, running back to camp with the agility of a cat. It’s almost impossibly quick for someone who is carrying a whole person.

Despite her seemingly careless demeanor, she is incredibly gentle when she lays you down at camp. She gathers every person in camp to help you.

Despite her training being based heavily in self-reliance, Lae’zel was also taught to work well with a team. She knows her strengths and she knows how to delegate her weakness.

Healing is not her strong suit. So she leaves that to the professionals and instead turns to what she is good at: hunting.

She gathers Karlach, Minsc, and Scratch and they set out into the forest. Scratch and Boo were pretty quick to catch a trail.

Lae’zel charged ahead of the others. As soon as the perpetrators were visible, she rushed in, sword slashing so fast they were dead before they hit the ground.

“… wow” Minsc says as he approaches the scene. All three culprits were on the ground faster than he could even run after Lae’zel.

Lae’zel severed one of their heads and threw it into her pack. It would be drop at your feet when she got back. You would be alive and well when she got back. She repeated the words to herself all the way back to camp.

Karlach

“Hey bub! It’s dinner time!” She shouted into the forest, playfully tramping through leaves. “Where did you go?” She asks surprised not to find you in the clearing you usually went to to gather ingredients.

It wasn’t until she heard a groan and the rustle of leaves that she turned to find you, broken and bleeding on the ground.

“No! Nononono!” She stammered, running over and kneeling on the ground beside you. It couldn’t be you. This must be a nightmare. A trick of the imagination.

She wiped your hair from your blood crusted face. “Soldier? Darling? Wake up, come on wake up, please,” she pleaded, tears stinging her eyes.

“…Karlach?” You mumbled weakly. You tried to reach your hand out to her but found yourself unable to move. Your legs were wrapped in something resembling barbed wire.

“Yes! Yes it’s me baby,” she says, so relieved that you’re alive. “We’re gonna get you outta here okay? Um…” her hands work cautiously at the wire around your legs. When you yelped at the pain she realized she had no clue what she was doing.

“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up and we’ll get you back to camp, okay?” She gingerly took you into her arms, carefully not to jostle your legs too much. She didn’t even flinch as the barbs tore into her own arm.

As she approached camp, she shouted for Halsin and Shadowheart. They came running, meeting the two of you at the edge of camp.

“I-I don’t know what happened I just found them like this,” Karlach says, tears starting to fall down her cheeks.

“It’s okay. They’ll be okay just lay them right here,” Halsin soothed, leading you both to a bedroll. They started with a couple of healing spells, leaving you feeling rejuvenated enough to speak and move your upper body. Your bound legs are a different matter though.

Shadowheart went in with a knife, slicing through the wire with some effort. You screamed and thrashed in pain as the barbs tore further through your skin.

“Do you think you could keep them still?” Shadowheart asked Karlach. Karlach wrapped her arms around you from behind, pinning your arms against your chest.

She kissed your temple and whispered into your ear. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? I’ve got you.”

Both Shadowheart and Halsin started to wrestle the wire from your legs, leaving you wailing in agony and thrashing against Karlach’s strong embrace. Your cries shattered her heart. She felt like she was torturing you herself.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she muttered over and over again, nuzzling her teary face into the back of your shoulder.

When it was finally over, you relaxed and slumped against Karlach. She cradled you, rocking you back and forth in her arms. Your legs were shredded, but you would be okay. You weren’t going to leave her.

Minthara

Minthara steps gingerly through the clearing in the forest. Her footsteps are hardly audible as she walks through the brush. It isn’t until she sees you slumped against a tree with an arrow through your chest that she breaks out in a sprint.

She is by your side in seconds weapons drawn and scouting for the hidden enemy that shot you. She takes a good look around, but it only takes a moment for her to realize the enemies fled. She’ll take care of them later, but you needed healing.

She sheathed her weapon and got down on a knee next to you, whispering a prayer of healing that brought you back to consciousness.

Your breathing was erratic and labored. She needed to take you back. Now.

Typically, she’s the type that would throw you over her shoulder, but the arrow in your chest meant she’d have to go for a gentler princess carry.

When she has you back at camp you are approached Shadowheart, who was quickly tailed by Lae’zel.

“This arrow has to come out,” Shadowheart observed. “It’s pressing against their lung. Be gentle and don’t try to pull it out with the head still attached.” She jogs off to her tent for supplies.

Minthara straddled your legs, motioning for Lae’zel to brace you sitting up. She took your chin in her hand. “Listen to me,” she commands. “I’m going to make this as quick as I can, but don’t pass out on me.”

You nod weakly, head filled with only her words and confusion. “I mean it,” she repeats. “You cannot die. Understand?” You nod again.

With one swift movement, she shoves the arrow out your back. You shriek and your vision spots with white dots. You’re sure that hurt more than being pierced by the actual arrow. But you stay awake.

She gently carves off the arrowhead and lets it fall to the ground. Then, she pulls the rod of wood out of your chest. Your head spins, and you vomit onto the ground next to you. But you stay awake.

Shadowheart returns with cool water and a rag, which Minthara uses to wipe your face and head. “You did very well.” She states plainly, allowing Shadowheart to cast a spell to heal the wound.

Minthara does not allow you to be out in the middle of camp with the others for much longer. She picks you up again and brings you to her tent.

She spends the rest of the evening lecturing you about your foolishness. What were you thinking going out alone? She wouldn’t let it happen again. You’ll be at her side until you can prove you’re able to keep yourself safe.

Meanwhile she’s also tending to your every need, making sure you’re comfortable and you have blankets to keep you warm and you have a little pillow to prop up on. She even makes sure you have the stuffed animal you keep hidden away from the companions in embarrassment.

Jaheira

You remember the clearing, and the attack, and the silence that followed. You remember Jaheira standing over you, telling you were okay and you needed to stay alive.

You don’t remember how you ended up in her tent, though. Regardless now you are here and she’s pressing some bottle to your lips. “Drink.”

She forces your lower jaw open with one hand and pours the liquid downward your throat with the other. The mixture is chunky and disgusting, but you have no choice but to swallow every drop.

The effect it has on your body is immediate. The pain fades and a numbness spreads throughout your limbs. Your head is foggy and you feel like the room is spinning.

You attempt to sit up on the table Jaheira seems to have you on, but you end up almost falling off of it. She steadies you with a hand. “Still yourself. Lay down.”

You lay back down and allow her to work her magic. Your wounds are packed with a combination of magic, herbs, and bandages. Watching her dress your wounds, you are grateful for the liquid she gave you to start. This probably would’ve hurt otherwise.

“Rest now, cub. You must regain your strength.” She says, kissing you on the forehead and gently laying a blanket down over top of you.

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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hello! :D I'm not sure if your request are open but if they are could you please write about reader and marauders playing a game something like answering questions and if they don't answer they have to drink and reader is asked who they would rather kiss (or something along those lines) out of them all and reader says Remus and they both get all flustered and the rest of the group is teasing them and whatnot and they end up telling each other about their feelings for one another like the next day or something

im sorry if this ask is like all over the place anywhooo thank you so much!<3 i love your writing btw :)

My requests are open babe, thank you!

cw: drinking game

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 837 words

Everything is pleasantly fuzzy, and your laughter bubbles up out of you with scarcely any prompting.

“Alright, alright,” Marlene says, “James, where’s the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

James hardly hesitates. “Quidditch pitch.”

You slap a palm across your mouth, and your little circle bursts into howling laughter.

“It was really dark, though!” James justifies. “No one would’ve been able to see us if they’d looked. Anyway, my turn.” He looks around the circle, eyes narrowed in mock seriousness. “Pads.” Sirius looks up. “When you said you’d never had sex in my bed, were you lying?”

Sirius presses his lips together, looking suspiciously like he’s suppressing a smile, and drinks.

“Wha—that’s as good as an answer!” James sputters. “You prick, learn some boundaries!”

“No clue what you’re talking about.” Sirius shrugs. “Okay…y/n.” You bite your lip, doing your best to make your eyes look wide and sweet in the hopes he’ll go easy on you. “Of everyone here right now, who would you rather kiss?”

You freeze, trying to keep your gaze from darting to your immediate answer. “I…I don’t know,” you say.

Sirius shakes his head, smirking. “Not good enough, sweetheart.”

“Careful,” Marlene warns, “I don’t know if you can handle drinking much more.”

“Yeah, Pads, just let ‘er off,” Remus says. “Don’t make her sick because of you.”

“All she has to do is answer,” Sirius argues, but it’s alright, because you’ve seen your opening.

You take it. “Remus,” you say, as though the idea has just occurred to you, “because he’s being nicer to me than the rest of you.”

The group erupts in cheers and boos, and Remus’ cheeks color pink.

“Plus,” you go on, emboldened by the warmth of booze in your chest, “he wouldn’t make it weird. None of the rest of you would ever let me forget it.”

“Oi!” James protests. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, right,” Marlene laughs. “Sirius, who did James kiss last week?”

Sirius tilts his head. “Do you mean on Sunday or Tuesday?”

Marlene smirks.

“Whatever,” James says, but he’s smiling. “You’re all just jealous, Y/N too. Remus, you’d better take good care of this one. She’s got high standards, apparently.”

Now your face is warming too, and Remus nudges you with his shoulder. “It’s your turn, love,” he says. “Get him back.”

You grin. “Excellent idea. James, did you sleep in your bed after you thought Sirius had sex in it?”

James eyes go wide behind his glasses as his cheeks redden, and Remus chuckles beside you.

As usual, it’s you and Remus cleaning up after everyone else has gone to bed. James would typically at least offer to help, but he’s busy patting Sirius’ back as his friend purges everything he drank tonight in the community bathroom. You’d offered to tidy yourself and let Remus go upstairs, but he’d only said “don’t be silly” and started picking up discarded cups alongside you.

“It got a bit much tonight, didn’t it?” you ask, aiming for casual but only hitting awkward.

Remus hums. “I don’t think any more than usual.” He gives you a knowing look, made worse by his tiny smile. “They don’t usually pick on you, though, so I’m sure it felt different.”

You laugh nervously. “I guess so. I can dish it out, but I can’t take it, huh?”

“Well, they make it easy to dish,” he says mildly. “Anyway, it’s like you said. If you’d even said you’d kiss any of them, they’d never’ve shut up about it.”

You tense but nod, bending to dab at a stain of spilled drink someone left in the rug. “Yup. That’s why I picked you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

You turn, and Remus is looking at you evenly despite his flushed cheeks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says softly, kindly, “that if they’d asked me, I would’ve picked you too. So I guess I’m just wondering, would you have picked me, if you weren’t worried about everyone teasing you?”

The way he’s looking at you, you know he’s ready to accept whatever answer you give. Remus is watching you curiously, but there’s a bashfulness around his eyes. He wants to know, but he’ll let you off the hook in a second if you indicate that’s what you want.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, I’d pick you.”

Remus looks like the breath goes out of him. He takes a step toward you. “Why?”

“I don’t need a reason,” you admit. Not one that makes sense, anyway. It’s just him.

Remus’ smile is borderline shy. “I’ve got tons.”

“Yeah?” It’s more breath than word.

“Mhm. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“That’s okay,” you say, and rise on your tiptoes, kissing him.

Remus kisses just like you knew he would. Soft and sweet, with little hints of urgency in the press of his hand against your back, the insistent sound he makes in the back of his throat. And you don’t need a single reason to want to kiss Remus Lupin, but you’ve got tons too.

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gyuslcve · 11 months

Text

svt when they’re clingy

genre: headcanons, humor (i like to think that i’m funny)

rq: not a request!

notes: my previous write was getting more love than i thought oml ;-; thank yall

SEVENTEEN WHEN THEY’RE CLINGY

choi seungcheol

✧ most clingy when he doesn’t wanna wake up

✧ pouty babie

✧ would n o t let go of his hold on your waist

✧ nuzzles into your hair

✧ “hnggph.. ‘don’t wanna wake up..”

yoon jeonghan

✧ this man may be a tease but he’s a clinger

✧ extra clingy when asking for something from you

✧ holds onto your arm and rests his head on your shoulder

✧ lots of cheek kisses

✧ “c’mon baby.. pretty please?”

hong joshua

✧ rarely clingy, but when he is he really could get away with anything

✧ gets touchy

✧ likes to hug you from the back while caressing your torso

✧ places kisses here and there

✧ murmurs “i love you”’s

wen junhui

✧ neck! kisses!!!!

✧ gets clingy more often than you think

✧ backhugs (2)

✧ texts 24/7

✧ “baby where you goin’ ?” “the toilet..?”

kwon soonyoung

✧ clings to you 24/7

✧ extra clingy when he’s drunk

✧ peppering kisses all over your face

✧ pet names, lots of it

✧ “y/n my baby i love you so so soo much”

jeon wonwoo

✧ clingy when cuddling

✧ secretly loves cuddling but doesn’t tell you

✧ neck kisses (2)

✧ fiddles with your hands while he holds them

✧ not a words of affirmation guy but will make sure you feel safe with him <33

lee jihoon

✧ sorry, he does not cling

✧ shows a shitton of affection through his actions tho

✧ on days where he needs you the most, he would take the initiative to hold your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles

xu minghao

✧ clingy when he’s tired

✧ asks for cuddle sessions

✧ doesn’t really talk, just rests his head on your shoulder

kim mingyu

✧ clingy a l l the time

✧ lots of skinship

✧ squishes your cheeks

✧ kisses on your lips and forehead

✧ hugs you and smooths out your hair gently

lee seokmin

✧ clingy when he’s happy hehe

✧ interlaces his fingers with yours

✧ occasionally flashes you a smile and gives you cheek kisses (awh)

boo seungkwan

✧ turns into such a baby when he’s clingy :(

✧ is so giggly

✧ nuzzles into your neck

✧ loves playing w your hair

✧ pickup lines outta nowhere

chwe vernon

✧ like minghao, he doesn’t really talk a lot

✧ asks you to watch movies with him but ends up being a cuddle session

✧ places his head on your shoulder

✧ looks up at you every once in a while and smiles

✧ chuckles when you catch him looking at you

lee chan

✧ so, so, so loving

✧ spoons you and showers you with love

✧ forehead kisses (and smiles while doing it)

✧ NEVER lets go of your hands

✧ “do you know how much i like holding you like this?… a lot baby”

authors note: aaarhhjsjf need soft svt rn ,!:&;!;

p.s. feel free to send me prompts/requests!

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actnatural-ly · 2 years

Note

👀 for the fic meme!

hi bex! thank you!

👀 What’s an idea you had for a fic that you never did anything with?

hmm i have sent a lot of ideas to the prompt blog so i technically did something with those ideas… two things come to mind though

1. i spent a lot of time thinking about a sleeping with other people au but i’m not sure if i can make it work.

2. fexi meeting at mckays party in s1e1 instead of NYE and i wrote exactly two lines for that fic:

“So did you have a good summer?”

“Not really. My best friend went to rehab and my sister was at cheer camp.”

idk if i will ever write it because i really love the NYE interaction with how much turmoil was going on in especially fez’s life but also lexi’s, and that moment serving as a kind of temporary reprieve for them both. i feel like it wouldn’t hit the same if set in any other time.

if anyone ever decides to write either one i would love to read it!

ask me some fic questions!

#ask game asks #fexi prompt #up for grabs #thank you boo

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thedensworld · 5 months

Text

Perfect Pairing | C.Sc

Pairing: Mafia Seungcheol! x Agent Reader

Genre: Action, suggestive, slow burn

Words Count: 12k

Summary: Mafia Seungcheol has to face a fact that he found his bestfriend's long-searched sister. However she is a NIS agent who was ordered to terminate him.

Author Note: BOO! It's been a long time since the last time i left a note hehe.. Here's another Seungcheol's action ff because y'all love it, i love it, and we love strong-masculine but gentle Seungcheol 👉👈 i just wanna say thank you very much for all the support you guys has been given to me. I'll work harder to make a better story in the future. Love you all🤍

Seungcheol sat on the plush couch, his eyes fixed on the figure sprawled across his bed. She was the only one, aside from himself, who had the privilege of laying there. Yet, the questions that loomed large were 'Who is she?' and 'Why had she ended up in his club, drugged and unconscious?'

For Seungcheol, it was routine to make the rounds, keeping a watchful eye over his nightclubs. He was the guardian, determined to shield his establishments from any foul play. He harbored no forgiveness for those who dared to tarnish what he considered his babies – his clubs. So, when he stumbled upon the woman, tucked away in a corner near the office, his suspicions flared. Her state, drugged and vulnerable, was the last thing Seungcheol wanted associated with his club.

"Who is she?" Seungcheol's voice cut through the air, halting his steps. He turned to fix his gaze on the manager, who fidgeted under his scrutinizing stare. Joshua, Seungcheol's right-hand man, approached the woman and confirmed their worst fear.

"I think she's just a lost customer, sir. We'll take care of her," the manager hurriedly explained, already signaling the staff to attend to her.

But Seungcheol wasn't ready to let it end there. He took a deliberate step forward, his pulse quickening as he locked eyes with a face that stirred something within him. The words caught in his throat, his astonishment rendering him momentarily speechless. Joshua, sensing a shift in his boss's demeanor, followed Seungcheol's gaze to the woman's face. Surprise registered in Joshua's eyes, prompting him to act swiftly.

"We'll take care of her," Joshua instructed the manager, while signaling Seungcheol's bodyguard to prepare to transport her. The pieces of this unexpected puzzle were falling into place, painting a picture that Seungcheol hadn't foreseen, Yoon Jeonghan's sister.

Yoon Jeonghan, Seungcheol's steadfast companion, had been inseparable from him and Joshua since their high school days. Five years prior, a tragic twist of fate claimed Jeonghan's life in a deadly rivalry, all for a monumental deal with a club in Seoul. That night, half of the association's spirit seemed to vanish, and Seungcheol couldn't deny the immense role Jeonghan played in his current success. Despite their decade-long friendship, Jeonghan was a mystery to Seungcheol. He knew little about the man, except for the fact that Jeonghan had once mentioned having a younger sister back in their high school days.

"She might be the female version of Yoon Jeonghan," Jeonghan had mused during their time at the Judo club, informed everyone that his sister was a judo athlete. It was a memory that now surfaced in Seungcheol's mind.

A knock jolted Seungcheol from his reverie. He opened the door to find Joshua standing there, bearing a file brimming with information about the girl they had just brought to the house.

Seungcheol's brow furrowed, concern etched across his face. "When was the last time she met her brother, Jeonghan?" he inquired, a note of urgency in his voice.

Joshua's reply held a solemn weight, "Five years ago, when Jeonghan flew to the States." There was a palpable sense of distance in those words, a span of time that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Seungcheol couldn't help but wonder about the vast expanse of experiences that must have unfolded in those five years. He leaned in, his gaze locked onto Joshua, eager for any shred of insight into the woman's life.

Joshua's voice held a touch of uncertainty as he continued, "She might not know about the business Jeonghan's been doing." It was a possibility that hung heavy in the air, a question mark that loomed over the narrative. Seungcheol's mind raced, concocting scenarios and speculations. Why was she in his club? He couldn't shake the feeling that her presence held significance beyond what met the eye.

Joshua's eyes narrowed as he gestured towards a screen, revealing a CCTV feed. Seungcheol's breath caught as he watched the footage unfold. There she was, stepping into the limited area, a figure shrouded in mystery. But before she could make another move, someone emerged from the shadows, drugging her. Seungcheol saw her being held and strangled before she passed out. Seconds ticked by, the person escaped the area and Seungcheol, Joshua, and the manager's shadows appeared, unknowingly they had failed a crime that almost had taken place in Seungcheol's club.

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief, grateful that nothing more sinister had occurred within the confines of his club. The weight of what could have been settled heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't help but contemplate the grim possibilities if a murder had taken place under his roof. The thought of imprisonment loomed, as did the fate of those who worked tirelessly under him.

With a determined look, Seungcheol turned to Joshua. "Find out more about the person who drugged her," he instructed, his voice steady. "I need to understand the connection, and why she ended up in our club in the first place."

Joshua's response was accompanied by a respectful bow, his demeanor exuding poise and unwavering focus. He left Seungcheol to his contemplations, striding off to untangle the enigmatic threads of this puzzling situation. With a gentle smile, Joshua mentioned that everyone was gathering for dinner, extending an invitation to Seungcheol.

"No, I'm good. Thanks," Seungcheol politely declined, choosing to venture forth on his own.

After what felt like an eternity, a sudden thud echoed from outside, followed by an abrupt blackout. Seungcheol's heart raced, propelling him from his seat towards the desk where he had stashed his gun. The suspense hung heavy in the air, each passing moment pregnant with anticipation.

Seungcheol moved cautiously, stepping outside to investigate. He caught a fleeting glimpse of figures entering his penthouse. Gritting his teeth, he pressed himself into the shadows, keenly eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I'm sure, he's here!" One of them said as they were certain Seungcheol was his place, and the others were preparing for dinner.

Seungcheol deliberated, mentally counting their numbers. Four. After much contemplation, he acted swiftly, firing two shots that sent two of them scrambling for cover.

"Shit, who's that?" a voice exclaimed in surprise.

As another figure approached, Seungcheol didn't hesitate, striking with deadly precision. Seungcheol took a step, a dragon tattoo adorned their hand, a clear mark of Kanga's handiwork. The rival association had been a thorn in his side for years, the one who had killed Jeonghan.

Suddenly, the icy touch of metal pressed against Seungcheol's temple. "Choi Seungcheol, I've got you," the assailant whispered.

"Kanga's the one who sent you, isn't it?" Seungcheol inquired calmly.

A chuckle escaped the stranger before he retorted, "Whoever sent me definitely wanted you dead."

Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle too. "Yeah, heard that from the previous people they had sent before. Guess what? They had failed." With a swift motion, he disarmed the assailant.

Punches flew, relentless and unforgiving. Seungcheol didn't give his opponent a chance to respond. But in his focused assault, he failed to notice what transpired next—a gunshot rang out.

You jolted, heart pounding, as the two gunshots pierced the darkness. The inky blackness enveloped you, exacerbating the headache, likely from whatever Seo Myungho had injected into your body. Did he succeed? The thought of your demise hung heavy. But if he failed, you were alive, albeit barely.

Your hand fumbled towards the pistol stashed on your inner thigh, a wave of relief washing over you as you found it intact. It had been your lifeline since that encounter with Myungho in Seungcheol's club.

"Seo Myungho, that son of a bitch," you seethed, memory flooding back. The betrayal cut deep, after a decade of unwavering dedication, sacrificing family, friends, and any semblance of a normal life. The country had turned its back on you. They betrayed you.

Steeling yourself, you descended from the bed, moving toward the commotion outside. Moonlight filtered through, casting a pallid glow. Amidst the shadows, you witnessed a fierce altercation. One man pummeled another, while a third sat poised, gun trained on the scene. Your instincts took over, aiming for the armed figure and firing, the shot tearing through his arm.

The other man's gaze locked onto you, and recognition flickered in his eyes. Choi Seungcheol. The very man you had studied meticulously for this mission, only to realize it was a deadly mission targeting you, a mission to distract you and terminate you.

"Yoon Y/n," Seungcheol's voice cut through the tension, surprising you. He knew your real name. With deliberate grace, he released the lifeless figure he'd pummeled and advanced toward you. Instinctively, you took a step back, your gun trained on him.

He called your name again, this time coupled with another - Yoon Jeonghan.

"You're Yoon Jeonghan's sister, aren't you?" he inquired, his gaze flitting from his bruised knuckles to your face. You felt your back press against the wall as you continued to retreat, his presence closing in.

"How do you know?" you demanded, your grip on the gun steady. But you didn't notice as he skillfully disarmed you. The drugs Myungho administered began to take their toll again, sapping your strength. You slumped to the floor, powerless against it.

"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's concern was palpable, his eyes locked onto yours. The soothing timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine.

Before you could muster a response, a surge of people barged into the room, casting a blinding cascade of light.

"What's going on?" A man's voice cut through the chaos, clearly taken aback by the grim tableau before him - blood spattered across the floor, Seungcheol sheltering you in the corner.

Joshua, the name Seungcheol had mentioned, approached, drawing Seungcheol's gaze as he spoke through gritted teeth, "Kanga sent them. How dare he invade my place!"

"You're awake. Why is she here?" Joshua's eyes narrowed, noticing you weakly cradled in Seungcheol's arms. You wondered how he knew you too.

Seungcheol let out a sigh, "She shot one of the men and saved me. Could you take her to the bedroom? I need to talk with the others." With gentle care, he helped you rise and passed you into Joshua's custody.

As Joshua guided you towards the bedroom, Seungcheol's voice echoed from beyond the door, seething with frustration, "WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU GOING?! WHO WAS RESPONSIBLE— " The words reverberated, tinged with urgency and anger.

You regarded Joshua, his demeanor seemingly acquainted with this kind of scene. He gently settled you on the bed and inquired if you needed anything.

"Thanks," you politely declined, gnawing at your lip, your mind grappling with how you ended up here.

Joshua's gaze on you was intense, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "You're truly a female version of Jeonghan," he remarked, a warm smile gracing his features.

"How do you know my brother?" you questioned, struck by the contrast between Joshua's aura and Seungcheol's. Where Seungcheol exuded intimidation, coldness, and territoriality, Joshua emitted a different energy. You shook off your thoughts, reminding yourself this was your first encounter with him, though you had studied images of him for months, they still swirled in your mind.

"We've been friends since high school. We watched your competition once, but after that, Jeonghan never let us go again," Joshua explained. He mentioned your past as a judo athlete, a chapter of your life that had been dormant for over a decade. Did his "we" means him, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol? And was Jeonghan's death connected to the murky business they were involved in? The questions hung heavy in the air.

Joshua struck you as a seemingly affable guy, you mused, recalling details from his profile. Hong Jisoo, but commonly known as Joshua since he hailed from the States. He held the esteemed position of Choi Seungcheol's right hand. His face bore an almost angelic quality, and seeing him in person you could confirmed it. However, his reputation preceded him; he is known for his deft manipulation with words and actions, a key factor in Seungcheol's meteoric rise in the industry. You couldn't help but wonder, was Jeonghan also a part of this world?

"How did I end up here?" you questioned, making a conscious effort to steer clear of any mention of your brother.

"You passed out in front of our office. Seungcheol had a hunch you might be Jeonghan's sister, and he was right. We've been searching for you ever since he... passed away," Joshua's voice trailed off, carrying the weight of unspoken sorrow.

"You were the only family he had, weren't you? Discovering you were truly his sister was quite the surprise," he continued, recounting how many times they had attempted to trace Jeonghan's family after his tragic demise.

Taking a deep breath, Joshua ventured further, asking about your presence at their club the previous night. You hesitated, deliberating whether to divulge everything. Could you truly place your trust in these people? After the events of last night, you have no plans on trusting people. You'd devoted over a decade of your life to serving as a secret agent for the NIS, giving your all for your country, only to be betrayed by sending Seo Myungho to take your life last night. You had been tasked with a mission to apprehend Choi Seungcheol, a businessman suspected of dealings with a dangerous Japanese mafia. Yet, it was a mission built on falsehoods. The complexities of your situation weighed heavily on your mind.

"I was—"

The door burst open, and Seungcheol strode into the room, immediately advancing towards you. He seized the gun you had, aiming it squarely at you. Joshua's startle prompted him to mimic Seungcheol's move, clearly uncertain about his intentions. But you sat there calmly, unruffled by the display, and noticed a smirk playing on Seungcheol's lips.

"G19 Gen6, not even released yet. How did you get this?" Seungcheol's gaze bore into you, intense and penetrating. He must have some familiarity with firearms; perhaps he had a side business involving them, a detail that had slipped your memory.

"Are you a part of them?" he accused, linking you with Kanga, the well-known rival association.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Afraid you've saved an enemy, Choi Seungcheol?" you taunted, sensing his surprise at your knowledge of his true identity.

Seungcheol didn't respond. Instead, he handed the gun towards Joshua, instructing him to handcuff you.

"Choi Seungcheol, also known as S.Coups..." You paused, debating whether to reveal your true identity.

"Organized crime, money laundering, fraud. Your knowledge of the G19 Gen6 suggests you're involved in arms trading," you ventured. Earning his trust was crucial now. You needed him to release you so you could slip away from their clutches. You were acutely aware that Seo Myungho was relentless in his pursuit, and they might launch a thorough search for you.

"I'm not your enemy, Seungcheol. I'm nobody to you," you asserted.

He smirked, a glint of interest in his eyes. "So, you've been studying me? Excellent! Tell me more."

You held his gaze, your eyes probing, voice laced with trepidation. "My brother... It was Kanga who took him from us, wasn't it?" The question hung in the air, heavy with its implications. "That's why you were searching for Kang Jaehoon."

Seungcheol settled onto the bed, his expression focused and intent as he studied you. "Who exactly are you?" His words were measured, hinting at a mix of curiosity and caution.

A lump formed in your throat as you weighed the decision to disclose your true identity. It seemed like the key to gaining his trust, perhaps even securing his help to escape the clutches of South Korea. Your hand moved to your bra, retrieving a badge holder that had been carefully tucked away. With a deliberate gesture, you tossed it before him, the emblem of the National Intelligence Service of South Korea gleaming. It bore the title that defined your role there: 'Special Agent.'

"I was on a mission to apprehend you, but it was a misguided attempt to terminate me instead," you admitted, the weight of the revelation palpable in the room.

Seungcheol's eyes shifted between the badge and your face, a dawning realization painting his features. The room seemed to hold its breath, a charged silence enveloping you both. With a subtle gesture, Seungcheol motioned for Joshua to leave them alone. Respectfully, Joshua bowed and exited the room, leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

"You're... NIS?" Seungcheol's voice carried a mix of surprise and suspicion, his brows furrowing as he contemplated the revelation.

You affirmed with a nod, your voice steady despite the weight of the truth. "Yes, I was sent here under false pretenses. They wanted me out of the way, but I never expected they'd go this far." The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air.

A profound silence settled between you, the implications of your revelation settling like stones in a pond. Then, Seungcheol released a resigned sigh, his hand raking through his hair. "This complicates things."

You understood the far-reaching consequences of your admission. "I need your help, Seungcheol. They'll be looking for me. I have to go."

Seungcheol's gaze bore into yours, searching for sincerity in your eyes. His breath grazed your skin, a palpable intensity in the air. "Are you truly his sister?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

As if lost in thought, he murmured to himself, "You really could be his sister." You observed the turmoil within him, recognizing the weight of this revelation.

With a final sigh, Seungcheol rose from the bed. "Let's discuss this in the morning. Rest, Yoon Y/n." His voice held a gentle authority, a promise of further conversations to come.

Seungcheol stood there, the weight of your revelation sinking in, memories flooding his mind. He remembered the last time he held Jeonghan, the pain etched on his face as he bled out from the gunshot wound inflicted by Kanga's people. Jeonghan had looked at him with desperate eyes, gasping for breath, and in those final moments, he had implored Seungcheol to find his sister and take care of her.

The memory was etched into Seungcheol's soul, a haunting echo of a promise made to a dying friend. He had sworn to Jeonghan that he would look after you, protect you. But now, faced with the reality of your presence, uncertainty gnawed at him. Could he trust you? Could he truly believe that you were Jeonghan's sister?

As Seungcheol lay in bed that night, sleep eluded him once again. His dreams were always haunted by Jeonghan's presence, a constant reminder of the debt he owed to his fallen friend. That night was no different. In the depths of his restless slumber, Jeonghan visited him, his ethereal form hovering in the shadows of Seungcheol's subconscious.

"Have you found her, Seungcheol?" Jeonghan's voice was soft, tinged with a sense of longing.

Seungcheol's heart ached. "I don't know, Jeonghan. I'm not sure about her."

When Seungcheol awoke, his body was drenched in sweat, the remnants of the dream clinging to him. The weight of his promise pressed on him, urging him to make a decision about you. He knew he couldn't ignore Jeonghan's final wish any longer. Determined, Seungcheol rose from the bed, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Seungcheol took a deep breath, steadying himself, as he made his way to the dining room. His crew stood in respectful unison, bowing their heads as he entered. He motioned for them to continue, acknowledging their presence with a nod. His thoughts were still consumed by the revelation from the night before.

"Joshua," Seungcheol inquired, "is she awake?"

Joshua looked up from his meal, his expression calm. "Yes, she's up and had breakfast already."

With a nod of gratitude, Seungcheol left the dining area, heading back to his bedroom, now shared with you. As he approached the door, he felt a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

But when he opened the door, he was met with a sight that took him completely off guard. You stood in the middle of the room, in the process of changing, your back exposed to him. Seungcheol's eyes widened in a, and he immediately averted his gaze, hastily closing the door.

He turned to Joshua, his voice low and incredulous. "Why didn't you tell me she was changing?"

Joshua looked nonplussed, offering a casual shrug. "I thought you might knock."

Seungcheol's brow furrowed in bewilderment. "It's my own bedroom. Why would I need to knock?"

Before Joshua could respond, the door creaked open, revealing you on the other side. "I'm done," you mumbled, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Seungcheol swiftly averted his gaze, the atmosphere tingling with an undeniable awkwardness.

"We need to go," he stated with a sense of urgency, turning to face you. With determined steps, he entered his room as he beeline to his closet. You followed, curiosity knitting your brows.

"Why?" you queried, seeking to understand the sudden need for urgency.

He paused, pivoting his body to meet your gaze, his expression bearing a weighty concern. "It's not safe here," he explained, his words carrying the gravity of a man well-acquainted with danger.

You held his gaze, surprise flickering in your eyes at the sincerity in his tone. "You want to help me?" The question hung between you, a silent plea for confirmation.

Seungcheol's response was a resigned sigh, his shoulders sagging as he grappled with the complexities of the situation. "You want to see me change?" he quipped, a touch of wry humor attempting to diffuse the tension.

You responded with a nonchalant shrug, crossing your arms in a self-assured stance. "You saw me change," you reminded him, a wry smile dancing on your lips.

Seungcheol couldn't help but notice a glimmer of Jeonghan's personality in your demeanor, though he chose not to comment on it directly. Instead, he proceeded to lay out the plan to leave the penthouse and head to his villa in Jeju. It was a strategic move, combining the need for safety with a business meeting.

"As for the business," you inquired, your tone laced with a hint of sarcasm, "which one are we talking about? Your vast array of illegal enterprises, perhaps?"

Seungcheol's jaw tightened, irritation flickering in his eyes. He didn't appreciate the reminder of his less-than-legal dealings. "You saw me punching the guy last night. I don't exclude women, woman," he warned, his tone laced with a sharp edge.

Your smirk was quick and sharp, a challenge glinting in your eyes. "And you saw me shooting that guy last night," you retorted, refusing to back down, your voice echoing the same defiant spirit.

A timely knock shattered the tension that had settled in the room. Joshua's voice called out your name, signaling that he had something to discuss. You excused yourself to attend to Joshua's call, leaving Seungcheol alone in the room.

Taking the opportunity, Seungcheol set about changing his clothes and assembling his belongings. The task was done with a practiced efficiency, each item packed with purpose. The atmosphere was charged with a sense of urgency, a reminder of the weighty decisions that needed to be made in the face of mounting uncertainties.

As Seungcheol made final adjustments to his belongings, his thoughts raced through the upcoming plans. The trip to Jeju was a necessary step, but it also meant delving deeper into a world that held no shortage of dangers.

"Seungcheol, we need to talk."

"What is it?"

Joshua's gaze met Seungcheol's, his expression grave. "We have to be cautious. With Y/n here, things are more complicated than ever."

Seungcheol nodded in agreement. "I know. We'll have to tread carefully."

Joshua's voice lowered. "And what about her connection to NIS? That's a wild card we can't ignore."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, a surge of apprehension coursing through him. "We'll need to find out more. But for now, we need to get to Jeju. It's our best chance to regroup and plan our next move."

Joshua nodded in agreement, the weight of their circumstances hanging in the air.

With a shared understanding of the complexities they were about to navigate, Seungcheol and Joshua left the room, their footsteps echoing in the corridor. The gravity of their situation pressed on them, a reminder that every move they made held the potential for both danger and revelation.

As they approached the main area, Seungcheol's crew stood at the ready, their expressions a mixture of concern and determination. Seungcheol addressed them with a voice that carried authority and purpose. "We're leaving for Jeju. Make sure everything is in order."

The crew members nodded in response, swiftly moving to carry out their orders. The sense of urgency in the air was palpable, each person understanding the weight of the circumstances they faced.

Seungcheol turned to you, his gaze steady. "Y/n, we need to stick together and be vigilant. This won't be easy, but we'll do our best to get through it."

You met his gaze, a sense of resolve mirrored in your eyes. "I'm ready," you affirmed, your voice holding a determination that matched his own.

Seungcheol's expression grew serious as he considered the weight of the decision. Without a word, he reached into his coat and retrieved a compact pistol, handling it with the practiced ease of someone intimately familiar with such weapons.

He extended the gun towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Take it," he instructed, his voice low and steady. "You may need it."

You accepted the weapon, feeling the cool metal against your palm. The gravity of the situation settled over you, the weight of the gun a tangible reminder of the dangers that lay ahead.

Seungcheol's gaze held yours, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you both knew that trust would be your greatest asset on this perilous journey. With a nod, you secured the gun, a silent promise to yourself and to Seungcheol that you would do whatever it took to navigate the treacherous path that awaited.

"FUCK YOU CHOI SEUNGCHEOL! YOU DOUBTED ME?!" The words burst forth, a torrent of raw emotion that reverberated through the charged atmosphere of the villa. The scene that met your eyes was a brutal tableau, a testament to the 'loyalty test' you had just endured. Seungcheol's men, once a formidable force, now lay strewn across the floor, some nursing wounds, others utterly broken, their blood staining the very foundation of the villa. It was clear now, with visceral certainty, that this had been a test - a trial of your allegiance to Choi Seungcheol, and he had orchestrated it with brutal precision. Is this his plan?

Seungcheol, his countenance unyielding, stood at the entrance, a silent observer to the chaos he had set in motion. He offered no words, only a casual shrug, as if the mayhem that had unfolded was but a casual affair. This calculated trial had served its purpose, a ruthless measure of your loyalty to him.

Earlier, just before his departure, his directive had been succinct and commanding. "We're leaving for a meeting. Make sure this villa is safe." His tone brooked no debate, and with a seamless transition, you shifted into your assassin mode. Adrenaline surged, senses heightened, as twenty assailants launched an assault on the villa. In the midst of the fray, a searing pain shot through your arm, a cruel reminder of the peril that surrounded you.

Grimly, you surveyed the bleeding wound, the realization settling in. Was this why Seungcheol had handed you a gun? The revelation underscored the unforgiving nature of the world you now navigated, where trust was a currency often traded for survival, and alliances were forged in the crucible of adversity.

As you tended to your wounded arm, a surge of bitterness welled within you. The betrayal by NIS was a jagged thorn in your side, a question that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. Why had they turned on you? Why had they orchestrated a mission to terminate you, sending Seo Myungho as the executioner? It was a betrayal that cut deep, a wound far more insidious than the one you now tended.

Memories of your years of dedication, the sacrifices made in service of your country, flashed before your eyes. The sleepless nights, the countless missions executed with precision, all in the name of duty and honor. And yet, here you were, marked as a target by the very organization you had pledged your allegiance to.

The implications of their betrayal were far-reaching. It wasn't just a matter of personal vendetta, but a shadowy web of intrigue that extended into the highest echelons of power. Questions swirled in your mind, each one a shard of a puzzle that refused to be pieced together. Who had ordered this mission? What were their motives? And perhaps most pressing of all, how had they infiltrated the seemingly impenetrable walls of NIS?

The truth eluded you, shrouded in a fog of deception and hidden agendas. But one thing was clear - you could trust no one, not even the very organization that had once been your steadfast ally. As you contemplated the depths of the betrayal, a resolve took root within you. You would uncover the truth, expose the puppet masters pulling the strings, and ensure that those who had betrayed you would face the consequences of their treachery.

"You cry?"

Seungcheol's voice jolted you back to the present, shattering the fragile reverie that had taken hold. Startled, you hastily wiped away tears that had silently betrayed you. His mock tone and the smirk on his face grated on your nerves.

"Shut up," you retorted, the irritation plain in your voice. Meanwhile, Joshua, who was now tending to your wound, observed the exchange with a small, appreciative smile. He couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance you bore to Jeonghan. It was a revelation that brought with it a sense of gratitude, knowing that you were capable of eliciting a playful side from Seungcheol, a side that had perhaps been buried beneath the loss of Jeonghan.

The room held a curious energy, a blend of tension and familiarity, as you each navigated the complexities of your newfound alliance. It was a precarious dance, one that required finesse and an acute understanding of the intricate dynamics at play. As Joshua continued his ministrations, the unspoken bond between you and Seungcheol seemed to solidify.

Seungcheol's voice held a gravitas that cut through the air, breaking the tension that lingered in the room. "You need to know the truth," he began, his gaze steady and unyielding. "Kanga is a puppet, dancing on the strings pulled by NIS."

His words hung heavy, the weight of their implications settling in the room. You exchanged a wary glance with Joshua, both of you keenly aware of the gravity of the revelation.

Seungcheol continued, his tone unwavering. "They receive secret information, illegal permissions, all in exchange for their services. The most lucrative of which is the import of drugs from Japan, a trade that lines the pockets of those in power."

The revelation was a bitter pill to swallow, a glimpse into the shadowy underbelly of the world you had once called home. The intricate web of deception and betrayal now stretched even further, revealing the sinister dance between organized crime and the very agency sworn to protect the nation.

Seungcheol's revelation hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the depths of deceit that surrounded them.

As the weight of the truth settled, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anger and betrayal. The organization you had dedicated your life to had fed you misinformation, leading you down a treacherous path that had ultimately led to this moment.

"You mean to say... I've been fed wrong information all this time?" The words left your lips, laced with a mixture of disbelief and outrage. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow, a testament to the extent of the manipulation that had been orchestrated by NIS.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into yours, his expression one of grim acknowledgment. "You might know something about them that they decided to eliminate you."

The weight of Seungcheol's revelation settled over you, each word sinking in like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. The mission, the betrayal - it all makes sense.

The black file.

Contained within its darkened pages were the damning records of illegal activities, a trove of evidence implicating powerful figures, including your own chief. It was what they were after, what they desperately sought to retrieve. And unbeknownst to them, you held it in your possession.

In that moment, you knew that the stakes had escalated to a perilous height. The file was not just a collection of papers; it was a weapon, a leverage that could shift the balance of power. The revelations had transformed the journey ahead into a high-stakes game, one where every move would be a calculated risk, every decision a potential turning point.

Where did you put that damn file?

The black file, a digital repository of evidence, held the potential to turn the tide in your favor. But now, in this critical moment, you found yourself grappling with a nagging uncertainty. Frantically, you cast your thoughts back, retracing your steps in a desperate bid to recall where you had put the file. The room seemed to close in around you, each passing second a reminder of the ticking clock. Your heart raced as you mentally rifled through your memories, searching for the elusive location.

"You'll be safe with us," Joshua mumbled, his voice a soothing presence as he finished tending to your wound. Seungcheol nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting a quiet determination.

With a gentle pat on your shoulder, Joshua left, leaving you alone with Seungcheol. He took a seat in front of you, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Jeonghan wanted me to take care of you," he began, his voice tinged with a solemn weight. "Those were his final words to me - find you and look after you on his behalf."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, your skepticism clear in your gaze. "And that's why you orchestrated that earlier?" you asked, alluding to the attack his men had initiated.

Seungcheol let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I needed to be sure. You worked with NIS. I had every reason to be cautious, to doubt your intentions," he admitted, his tone tinged with a mumble of apology.

He continued, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "Me, Jeonghan, and Joshua built this association from the ground up. Jeonghan was my right hand, handling all aspects of the business, while Joshua helped me manage our resources." He paused, a flicker of emotion crossing his features.

"My relationship with Jeonghan... it was different. He was like a brother, someone who completed me in a way that no one else could. I hope you understand why I view Kanga with such animosity," Seungcheol explained, his words carrying a weight of history and sentiment.

You tilted your head, offering a hesitant observation. "I didn't expect you to be this... emotional, Seungcheol. You might just be the most melancholic person to run an illegal business," you remarked, earning a sigh from him.

"I'm a businessman, not a robot, Y/n," he replied, rising from his seat. "We'll be here for five days. After that, we'll move to Busan, and perhaps even Japan. Be prepared for a lot of traveling. Once you join us, there's no turning back."

With those final words, Seungcheol left you alone in the bedroom, leaving you to contemplate the weight of the journey that lay ahead.

The sleek black car cut through the night, slicing through the darkened roads like a shadow. Inside, it was an atmosphere thick with tension, with only the low hum of the engine breaking the silence. Seungcheol's gaze remained fixed ahead, the muted glow of passing streetlights painting fleeting streaks of light across his focused expression.

Beside him, you sat in contemplative silence, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. The file, the association, Seungcheol's motives - it was all a whirlwind of complexity that demanded your utmost attention.

Abruptly, the car jerked to a stop, sending a jolt through your body. Panic flashed in your eyes as you instinctively glanced at Seungcheol, who already had his hand on the gun tucked at his side. The driver, Seungcheol's trusted bodyguard, was on high alert, scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

Seungcheol's phone chimed, breaking the silence, and he quickly answered. Joshua's voice crackled through the speaker, fraught with urgency. "Seungcheol, I've had a tire blowout. I'll be delayed. Go ahead without me."

Seungcheol's brow furrowed in concern, his gaze flickering to you briefly before refocusing on the situation at hand. "Understood, Joshua. We'll proceed. Be safe."

As the call ended, the car suddenly rocked violently, the sound of screeching metal filling the air. The windows shattered, showering you with glass, and the world outside seemed to explode into chaos. The driver fought to regain control, but it was clear - they were under attack.

Seungcheol's training kicked in, his movements swift and calculated as he returned fire, the staccato bursts of gunfire filling the confined space. The assailants, masked and armed, were relentless, their bullets finding purchase in the car's reinforced chassis.

With a steely resolve, you reached for the concealed weapon at your side, your training taking over. You fired back, your shots precise and calculated, each one a declaration of your determination to survive.

The battle raged on, a fierce clash of wills in the heart of the night. The car became a battleground, a symphony of gunfire and shattered glass.

With a final surge of determination, Seungcheol's onslaught forced the assailants to retreat, their presence vanishing into the night. The car, battered and smoldering, sat in the aftermath of the brutal assault.

The air inside the car hung heavy with tension, suffused with the acrid scent of gunpowder. Seungcheol's gaze bore into the darkness outside, his mind racing with thoughts on their next move.

Without hesitation, he swung open the door, motioning for you to follow. The night air was cool against your skin, carrying with it a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of your heart.

Seungcheol took the lead, his every movement calculated and purposeful. His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of danger. "We can't stay here. We need to find shelter," he declared, his voice steady despite the chaos that had erupted around them.

You nodded, falling into step behind him, the weight of your weapon a reassuring presence in your hand. The driver, still recovering from the shock of the attack, looked to Seungcheol for guidance.

"Head towards the nearest safehouse," Seungcheol instructed, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

As the driver navigated the damaged vehicle through the treacherous terrain, Seungcheol's mind raced, formulating a plan to ensure their safety. "We'll need to regroup, gather our resources, and assess the situation," he murmured, more to himself than to you. Seungcheol's jaw clenched, the weight of responsibility settling firmly on his shoulders.

When the car finally came to a stop outside a nondescript building, Seungcheol wasted no time. He directed the driver to secure the perimeter while he ushered you inside.

The safehouse was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Seungcheol's eyes scanned the room, assessing its potential vulnerabilities. "We'll need to fortify this place. It's not ideal, but it will have to do for now," he declared, his tone unwavering.

"You're bleeding." You stated as your gaze fell into his shoulder. Blood stained his baby blue shirt, signing that he got shot there.

As you swiftly moved around the safehouse, your eyes scanned for a medical kit. It was a testament to the intensity of the night that you didn't even flinch at the sight of the supplies, grabbing what you needed with the precision of someone well-acquainted with field medicine.

When you returned to Seungcheol, he watched you intently, his gaze never leaving your hands as you tended to his wound. It was a clean shot, but it still needed attention. The room was hushed, save for the soft rustle of the bandages.

"You're a pro," Seungcheol's voice cut through the quiet, his tone a mixture of admiration and respect.

"I received a lot of training," your reply was simple, a reflection of the life you had led.

Curiosity danced in Seungcheol's eyes as he asked about your time with NIS. You shared snippets of your missions, the work you did in the security and international affairs division. The topics ranged from diplomatic protection to intelligence gathering in high-stakes environments.

"What kind of training did you receive?" Seungcheol inquired, genuinely interested in the life you had lived.

You listed off the various disciplines you had honed: firing, martial arts, endurance, criminalogy, psychology. Each word held weight, a testament to the breadth of skills required in your line of work.

"Is that hard? Being an agent?" Seungcheol's question was measured, a genuine curiosity about the world you navigated.

You met his query with one of your own, turning the spotlight back on him. "Is that hard being a mafia?"

Seungcheol blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from a man who exuded confidence in every step he took.

"Even answering is hard," you mused softly, a wry smile touching your lips. With a final adjustment to the bandage, you finished tending to Seungcheol's wound. The room settled into a thoughtful silence, each of you lost in your own reflections.

"Have you ever thought of leaving the job?"

Seungcheol's question hung in the air, a weighty inquiry that cut through the silence. It was a question that carried a depth of understanding, born from the recognition of the sacrifices that came with a life dedicated to a cause.

You looked at him, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, the veneer of professionalism fell away. It was just two individuals, bound by circumstance, facing the complexities of their chosen paths.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice soft but resolute. "There have been moments when I've wondered what it would be like to walk away, to have a life that doesn't demand constant vigilance."

Seungcheol listened, his eyes fixed on yours, his expression a mirror of contemplation. It was a conversation that touched on the vulnerabilities that lingered beneath the surface, the unspoken desires for a different kind of existence.

"And have you?" Seungcheol's question was equally gentle, a reflection of the trust that had begun to form between you.

You nodded, a subtle admission of the complexities that colored your journey. "There have been times when I've come close, but duty always called me back."

The weight of your shared confessions settled in the room, a heavy presence that underscored the gravity of the paths you both walked. It was a moment of vulnerability, a rare glimpse into the hearts that beat beneath the professional exteriors.

You mustered the courage to speak about your brother, Jeonghan. "I found out about Jeonghan's death through a covert channel within NIS. It was a blow, a revelation that shook me to my core." The memory was still fresh, the pain of loss a constant ache in your heart.

You pondered over what Jeonghan's life must have been like, what secrets he held. "I always assumed Jeonghan was running a clothing line," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of regret. The memory of your last encounter with him flashed before your eyes. It was then that he had learned about your affiliation with NIS.

Seungcheol listened intently, his eyes fixed on you. It was a story that resonated with him, for he too had lost Jeonghan, a brother in a different sense. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he offered, his voice laced with genuine sympathy.

Every time you considered leaving the job, the specter of your brother's death loomed large. It was a reason to stay, a burning desire to unravel the mystery of who had taken him from you. The need for closure, for justice, fueled your determination.

"He never said anything about you. I think he was just being secretive to protect your privacy. It must have been a surprise for him to learn you work for NIS," Seungcheol mused, offering his perspective.

The thought of NIS potentially being involved in Jeonghan's death hung heavy in the air. "If Jeonghan's death is related to NIS, I would do anything to rip them apart," you confessed, your voice edged with determination. The words held a weight of truth, a vow to seek justice for the brother you had lost.

Seungcheol's gaze met yours, a solemn understanding passing between you. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your shared purpose settling around you.

"I can assure you, Y/n," Seungcheol began, his voice carrying a quiet resolve, "we both want the same thing. I'll kill Kang Jaehoon with my own hands. I'll do it by my self to whoever did that to Jeonghan."

You nodded, grateful for his words. It was a reassurance that you weren't alone in this pursuit, that you had an ally in Seungcheol, even if your worlds were vastly different.

As the conversation lingered in the air, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. It was a recognition of the bond that had formed between you, a connection forged in the crucible of shared loss.

"We'll find the answers together, Y/n. No matter where they lead us," Seungcheol vowed, his eyes steady and unwavering.

With those words, a pact was sealed. You and Seungcheol were now bound by a shared purpose, a determination to uncover the truth that had eluded you both for far too long.

In that moment, the boundaries of your worlds seemed to blur.

The shadows of intrigue danced around the dimly lit room where Joshua stood, a man cloaked in secrets and allegiances. Before him stood a figure whose face was veiled in shadows, a powerful presence in the criminal underworld.

"Yoon Y/n has met Seungcheol," Joshua reported, his voice carrying the weight of significant revelation. "Seungcheol seems to have taken an affection to her, especially upon learning she is Jeonghan's sister."

The man nodded in acknowledgment, absorbing the information with calculated interest. It was a revelation that held implications beyond what was immediately apparent.

Joshua continued, his voice steady, "Tonight's assault was successful. Seungcheol has informed me that they will stop at the safe house."

The man wasted no time, instructing his associates to mobilize towards the designated safe house. It was a calculated move, a chess piece carefully maneuvered into place.

"As you promised, make sure my name remains clean," Joshua stated, a reminder of the intricate web of alliances and agreements that bound them.

Seo Myunho, a formidable figure in his own right, extended his hand for a handshake, sealing a pact forged in the shadows of their clandestine dealings. Joshua, however, shifted his hand to another figure in the room, Kang Jaehoon, a gesture that spoke volumes of the shifting alliances and hidden agendas at play.

In the complex tapestry of loyalties and betrayals, Joshua's decision to betray his own association was woven from a history that ran deep, entangled with the fates of Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

From the inception of their criminal enterprise, Joshua had always been the steadfast third pillar, his words overshadowed by Jeonghan's charismatic influence. His loyalty was unwavering, his execution of tasks impeccable. Yet, when a deal with Kang Jaehoon emerged, a sinister plot was set into motion. Jaehoon sought to eliminate Jeonghan, recognizing him as the linchpin to Seungcheol's success. With Jeonghan removed, the balance shifted, and Joshua stepped into the void, his influence expanding, making it all the easier for Kang Jaehoon to tighten his grip on Seungcheol's empire.

As Kanga sought to escalate their operations, delving into the drug trade, they required political backing, and that's when Kim Chul, Chief of NIS, entered the picture. Seo Myungho was deployed to play his role, a lethal pawn in the intricate game.

Yoon Y/n, an NIS agent of unparalleled dedication, possessed an unparalleled knowledge of the geopolitical intricacies between nations. Her resolve was unyielding, and she became a potent force within NIS. When her familial connection to Yoon Jeonghan was discovered, it provided a strategic advantage, a means to chip away at Seungcheol's empire from within.

The plan was deceptively simple: bring S.Coups and Y/n together, knowing that their union posed the greatest threat to Kang Jaehoon and Kim Chul. It was a calculated move to weaken their adversaries, setting the stage for a termination mission that could shatter Seungcheol's empire.

Yet, in the twisted dance of deception, Seo Myungho failed to convey the full extent of Y/n's power—the possession of The Blackfile. And Joshua, blinded by the intricacies of the game, failed to realize the magnitude of the force that would be unleashed when Choi Seungcheol and Yoon Y/n stood united.

Jaehoon's operative delivered the report with a somber tone, "Hyungnim, report. Choi Seungcheol and Yoon Y/n had left the safe house. We failed to get them."

Jaehoon's gaze narrowed, a steely resolve settling into his features. He turned to Joshua, seeking answers, "Any information from Coups?"

Joshua's expression registered surprise, shaken by the fact that Seungcheol hadn't disclosed his whereabouts. He shook his head, uncertainty etched in his eyes. This unexpected move was a curveball that had caught them off guard.

Jaehoon's voice held a note of determination, "Okay, let's go with plan B."

The small, unassuming bookstore loomed in front of both you and Seungcheol. His driver took a separate route, following instructions issued by Seungcheol himself.

"Is this the right place?" Seungcheol inquired, a note of skepticism threading his words. The decision to leave the safe house was a precautionary one, a response to the looming threat of Kanga's relentless pursuit. The only refuge you offered was this hidden bookstore, a sanctuary where trust still held sway.

A boy stood behind the counter, his eyes flicking up to greet you. You wasted no time in your inquiry, asking if 'Gameboi' was present. Without hesitation, the boy gestured towards a concealed door, hidden behind a curtain. Seungcheol followed your lead, stepping into the dimly lit corridor.

With practiced precision, you input a code and scanned your fingerprint, unlocking the hidden passage.

"What kind of place is this?" He asked again.

You smiled at Seungcheol, a silent invitation for him to enter the room ahead of you. As he crossed the threshold, the stark transformation in atmosphere struck him.

The room burst forth in a riot of color, adorned with an array of vibrant and eclectic decorations. It resembled nothing short of a teenager's bedroom from high school. Seungcheol's gaze swept over the lively surroundings, a stark contrast to the dark corridor outside.

Just as the intrigue deepened, a bespectacled man entered through another door. He exuded an air of warmth and welcome. He approached you, enfolding you in a genuine embrace. Then, he extended a hand towards Seungcheol, introducing himself as 'Wonwoo'.

"I know you," Wonwoo said when Seungcheol introduced himself, his curiosity piqued. "You haven't visited for a long time. Any news?" He turned to you, inquiring while the three of you settled on the couch.

Seungcheol found amusement in witnessing how at ease you appeared in this room compared to his own. Your legs rested casually on the table as you sank into the couch.

"Seo Myungho and that damned organization turned their backs on me, Jeon Wonwoo! I can't believe the time has come," you sighed, frustration evident in your voice.

"What do you mean? You're the one and only gem in the division," Wonwoo remarked, revealing his knowledge of your work with NIS.

You stood up and turned to Seungcheol, "Wonwoo was a former NIS agent as well. Specializing in programming, hacking, whatever," you explained, shedding light on your connection with Wonwoo.

"Cybersecurity agent," Wonwoo corrected, "I resigned two years ago," providing a little background on how he knew Seungcheol's name from earlier.

You assumed they were looking for you because of The Black File, a file that Wonwoo had contributed to before he left NIS. You explained to Wonwoo how Seo Myunho had nearly killed you that night, and Seungcheol had saved you, revealing that he was a friend of your brother Yoon Jeonghan.

Wonwoo was taken aback by the news, both the fact that they wanted to terminate you and that you were Yoon Jeonghan's sibling.

You then requested Wonwoo's help in tracking down Seo Myunho. He beckoned for you both to follow him to his room, where his equipment was neatly arranged.

As he typed Seo Myungho's name, he initiated a thorough search. Wonwoo combed through Myungho's location via his cellphone, bank transactions, and car GPS. After a few moments, he pinpointed a location and immediately pulled up a live feed from the nearest CCTV.

Seungcheol couldn't help but question the legality of their actions, only to be met with scoffs from both you and Wonwoo. "You ask that like you've never done anything illegal, Choi Seungcheol," you retorted.

You watched intently as Myungho emerged from a building that bore the appearance of a club. Seungcheol confirmed that it was indeed one of Kanga's establishments.

"Then it's true that Myungho has worked with Kanga," Wonwoo concluded, the gravity of the situation becoming even clearer.

As you observed Myungho, a thought crossed your mind - was he merely a puppet in this intricate web? You recalled a crucial event months ago when you intercepted one of Kanga's transactions, a move that had ultimately led to your current mission of apprehending Choi Seungcheol. There was a possibility that someone within NIS was colluding with Kanga.

You turned to Wonwoo and inquired if he had a copy of The Black File. He shook his head, affirming that you were the sole holder of it.

Seungcheol, sensing the gravity of the situation, asked, "What is The Black File?".

Wonwoo explained that it contained information on powerful individuals engaged in illegal activities, including politicians, celebrities, and leaders. Both you and Wonwoo had worked on compiling it for several years, believing it would prove valuable. Little did you know, it had now become a weapon that held your fate.

You admitted to Wonwoo that you had forgotten where you stashed the flash drive containing the file.

Wonwoo's expression turned serious. "We don't have time for memory lapses," he stated firmly. "You need to remember where you put it. It's crucial. This file holds immense power, and if in the wrong hands..." He left the implications hanging in the air, emphasizing the urgency of retrieving it.

"But i don't think they were looking for the file, Y/n." Wonwoo began. "They won't kill you if they knew the file exists. There must be another reason why they had to terminate you."

Wonwoo's revelation sparked a realization. If they were after The Black File, they wouldn't be attempting to terminate you. Their motives ran deeper, and you couldn't quite fathom the underlying cause.

Seungcheol's sudden question pierced the air, "Does NIS know about your brother?"

Your mind raced, trying to connect the dots. How could Jeonghan, who was long gone, be relevant to this?

Wonwoo's inquiry brought forth more details. Seungcheol explained that Jeonghan's tragic demise occurred five years ago, a casualty of a successful deal he had struck with Kanga. The revelation sent a jolt through you. Three years ago, you received the news from the NIS channel, indicating a two-year delay in information.

There must be reason for NIS to inform you about your brother's death.

Morning bathed the room in a soft glow as you and Wonwoo delved into the intricacies of the case that had entangled both you and Seungcheol. Seungcheol momentarily stepped out to take a call, leaving you alone with Wonwoo.

Out of the blue, Wonwoo dropped a bombshell. "He likes you," he declared. "And you like him too."

You shot him a look, dismissing his words. "Shut up."

Wonwoo merely shrugged, undeterred. "Why not? Can't I be happy for you? He seems to genuinely care about you. Plus, he's in this danger too," he pointed out.

"He sees me as a sister," you retorted, brushing off his claim.

Wonwoo couldn't resist a sarcastic agreement. "Right, because every brother looks at their sister with such affectionate eyes." He knew how to push your buttons, and it irked you.

There were a pregnant pause before you suddenly chirepd, "But seriously?" you pressed, the seed of doubt taking root.

Wonwoo smirked, triumphant. He had you.

"Damn it," you muttered, landing a playful punch on his arm.

Seungcheol entered the room, his expression tense. "We need to go. Kanga's people are looking for us, whether it's me or you, I'm not sure. They were spotted near the safe house last night."

You bid a hasty farewell to Wonwoo and left the bookstore with Seungcheol. Sensing his exhaustion, you offered to take the wheel, knowing he hadn't slept since the previous night.

Your plan was to head to Japan by ship later that evening. It was the only solution Seungcheol could think of, a way to put some distance between you and the danger lurking in South Korea.

As you discussed your next moves, Seungcheol mentioned Joshua's unusual situation. His tire hadn't been repaired despite the supposed breakdown last night, his bodyguard had checked it for him. There was no repairment service that handling his car last night. The unspoken suspicion hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't bring yourself to voice it aloud.

"Are you trying to say that Joshua..." Seungcheol, however, nodded in grim acknowledgment. The truth seemed painfully apparent.

At the rest area, Seungcheol stayed in the car while you hurriedly went to grab some food. Just as you were about to return, you caught sight of individuals with distinctive dragon tattoos etched on their arms. Panic surged through you, propelling you to rush to your car and start the engine with a burst of urgency. The abrupt motion woke Seungcheol, his eyes widening at your alarmed announcement about Kanga's henchmen tailing you.

With Seungcheol's calm guidance, you maneuvered the car with precision, skillfully evading the pursuers. Eventually, he directed you to a public parking lot, providing a temporary sanctuary where you could catch your breath.

As the car rolled to a stop, you released a trembling exhale, your fingers still gripping the steering wheel tightly. Seungcheol's concerned gaze met yours, his worry palpable as he took in your shaken state.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" His voice held a mixture of concern and a trace of remorse for allowing you to take the wheel amidst the heightened tension.

You nodded, though the rapid rise and fall of your chest, coupled with your trembling hands, betrayed the underlying tension that still clung to you. With deliberate movements, you unbuckled your seatbelt and rose from your seat. As you nestled into Seungcheol's lap. You lips crashed his. Without a doubt, his arms enveloped you in a protective cocoon. The kiss that followed was a fusion of relief, gratitude, and an unspoken understanding of the danger that lurked around you.

His lips met yours with a gentle urgency, a silent promise of safety and support. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words could scarcely capture. Time seemed to stand still, and the world beyond the car became a distant backdrop.

The touch of his lips against yours was both tender and reassuring, a testament to the unspoken connection that had been forming between you. In that stolen moment, you found solace in each other's arms, seeking comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

When the kiss finally ended, there was a lingering warmth, a shared understanding that hung in the air. You pulled back, your eyes meeting Seungcheol's with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something that hinted at the complexities of the situation you found yourselves in.

Seungcheol's gaze held a rare vulnerability, a glimpse into the depths of his emotions that he seldom allowed to surface. It was a fleeting moment of raw connection, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the circumstances that brought you together.

Without a word, you shifted back to your own seat, a comfortable silence settling between you. The events of the night had forged an unbreakable bond, a shared experience that bound you in ways that words could not express.

"I'll drive." Seungcheol said and went out to switch the seat.

"The boat will be ready by tonight," Joshua assured Seungcheol over the phone, a sense of anticipation in his voice. "Yes, I'll report to you about that. Please take care, the two of you."

As the call concluded, Joshua's eyes shifted to Seo Myungho. "Easy," he remarked, a sly smile playing on his lips. He motioned for Myungho to join them, setting their intricate plan into motion.

Their objective was clear: secure The Black File before executing their plan to eliminate both you and Seungcheol that night. Myungho's valuable insights into The Black File, a compilation of your intelligence and that of a former NIS agent, made it a potent weapon for seizing control of the industry.

Joshua couldn't help but smirk, satisfaction evident in his expression. The alliance between him and Myungho, forged in the crucible of shared secrets and calculated trust, held the promise of a meticulously planned revenge. The culmination of a long-simmering vendetta was now unfolding step by step.

Myungho, behind the wheel, sighed in relief as he drove. "You finally could be the boss of your association by tonight."

Nodding, Joshua turned his gaze to Myungho, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "And you finally could gain what you've deserved with Y/n out of the frame."

Myungho smiled slyly, understanding the gravity of their collaboration. "It's mutual, right?"

Joshua chuckled softly, his amusement blending with a hint of menace. "Yeah. Once we get The Black File, it's time for Kanga and your boss's end."

As they drove towards their destiny, the tension in the air was palpable. The night held the promise of transformation, and each calculated move was a step closer to the realization of their shared ambitions.

Joshua sighed, his mind drifting back to a time when camaraderie thrived among them—Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and himself, the third wheel in their trio. In the beginning, questions about their friendship never crossed his mind. Jeonghan's insatiable need for attention seemed to explain Seungcheol's profound admiration for him. Yet, as the dynamics shifted from friendship to business, Joshua's perception underwent a seismic change.

He came to the realization that he had never truly been considered family from the start; he was more of a distant relative, someone known but not entirely trusted. The shift became painfully apparent as their bonds transformed amidst the demands of their new business endeavors. What once felt like an unbreakable connection now seemed tenuous, as he found himself relegated to the sidelines.

The tipping point occurred when Seungcheol, in a move that cut deep, was elected as the boss. Instead of recognizing Joshua's unwavering dedication to the association, Seungcheol chose Jeonghan as his right-hand man. It was a bitter pill to swallow, a stark revelation of the hierarchy within their supposedly close-knit circle.

Life, Joshua mused, was undeniably unfair. Yet, he harbored a growing understanding that life could be twisted, transformed by unexpected events. And that twist entered the frame in the form of Kang Jaehoon.

As Joshua delved into these memories, a mixture of nostalgia and resentment played across his features. The emotions he had bottled up over time simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to unfurl.

Turning his head towards Myungho, Joshua couldn't help but voice his curiosity, "What kind of person is Y/n?" His interest in unraveling your persona evident in his inquiry.

Myungho, with a momentary pause, described, "She's naive, perhaps the most naive agent I've ever met." There was a hint of both assessment and a touch of amusement in his words. Myungho's insight into your character seemed to amuse Joshua, who couldn't resist a scoff. "Pretty much like her own brother," he remarked, drawing a subtle parallel between you and someone else close to Joshua.

"But she's smart, detail-oriented, and quick," Myungho continued, offering a more comprehensive picture of your capabilities. "Truly speaking, she has an undeniable charm that could make everyone like her. That's how she got into her position."

Joshua, listening attentively, shook his head slowly, a mix of acknowledgment and resignation in his expression. "Right? People with charm always beat the hard workers like us," he mused, releasing a sigh that carried a hint of bitterness.

Myungho, however, added a layer of perspective. Nodding thoughtfully, he turned to Joshua, "But only a hardworking one could steal that." His words hung in the air, emphasizing the value of perseverance and diligence in their cutthroat world.

As the conversation unfolded in the confined space of the car, the atmosphere became charged with unspoken truths and the acknowledgment of the intricate dynamics at play. Myungho, growing impatient, stepped on the gas, propelling them forward towards a destination where destinies would intersect and choices would define their futures.

As Joshua and Myungho arrived at the port, they spotted Seungcheol's car parked nearby, a silent testament to the unfolding scheme. Joshua swiftly dialed Seungcheol to relay the exact location, establishing the designated meeting point. In the shadows, Myungho concealed himself, poised for the opportune moment to secure you and The Black File.

"Boss," Joshua greeted both you and Seungcheol with a facade of politeness, his demeanor belying the intricate web of betrayal that had been spun. He gestured for both of you to embark on the waiting boat. Seungcheol took the lead, extending his hand to assist you, an innocent enough gesture that masked the underlying deceit.

However, the engine roared to life unexpectedly, disrupting the carefully choreographed plan. Joshua observed Seungcheol's momentary surprise as he, with calculated intent, pushed Seungcheol onto the boat just as it began to glide away. The abrupt departure left you momentarily stranded, only to find yourself being pulled aboard by none other than Myungho.

"Y/N!" Seungcheol's desperate scream echoed through the port, his voice carrying the weight of genuine concern for your well-being. The urgency in his tone betrayed the turmoil within, a realization that the situation had taken an unexpected turn.

Yet, before Seungcheol could comprehend the full gravity of the unfolding events, someone stealthily emerged from the shadows behind him. With precision born from sinister intent, they clamped a hand over Seungcheol's mouth, the cold touch delivering a swift introduction to a sleeping drug. As the sedative took effect, Seungcheol's struggles faltered, and he succumbed to the encroaching unconsciousness.

The abrupt silence that followed Seungcheol's desperate cry hinted at the abrupt shift in dynamics, leaving only the sound of lapping waves and the muffled breaths of those entangled in a web of deceit.

"Let me go!" Your desperate plea echoed through the air as you struggled within Myungho's unwavering grip. Every fiber of your being seemed determined to break free from the confining hold.

The air crackled with tension as you, fueled by a surge of adrenaline and determination, engaged in a physical struggle with Myungho. Your attempts to break free were met with calculated resistance, his grip unyielding as he maintained control over the situation.

Myungho, seemingly amused by your defiance, continued to taunt, "Give us The Black File, and maybe we'll reconsider your fate." His words hung in the air, a sinister bargain that underscored the high-stakes nature of the unfolding confrontation.

In the midst of this struggle, Joshua stepped forward from the shadows, his expression betraying a mix of amusement and cold detachment. "Y/N, you always were a formidable opponent," he remarked, his voice carrying the weight of shared history now tainted by betrayal.

Undeterred, you fought fiercely against Myungho's hold, refusing to succumb to the impending surrender. The port became an arena for a clash of allegiances, the sounds of the scuffle blending with the distant cries of seagulls and the lapping of the waves against the dock.

A sudden, desperate maneuver afforded you a brief respite, breaking free from Myungho's grasp. As you distanced yourself, the intensity of the confrontation hung in the air, a palpable tension that mirrored the fractured alliances in this shadowed port.

In that fleeting moment, your eyes met Joshua's, sparking a glimmer of recognition. A shared history echoed in that exchange—a whisper of the camaraderie that once bound you together. The gravity of the betrayal seemed to pause briefly as the weight of the past flickered in your gaze.

Yet, the fragile thread of nostalgia snapped as Joshua, devoid of sentiment, raised his hand. A calculated gesture, a silent command to Myungho to resume the pursuit. The camaraderie dissolved into the cold reality of betrayal, leaving you with a bitter taste of disappointment and the knowledge that any remnants of trust had been irrevocably shattered.

"The Black File was with Jeonghan," your voice cut through the tension, a revelation hanging in the air like an electric storm. Joshua and Myungho, masters of manipulation, found themselves momentarily caught off guard. The revelation was a jolt, and vulnerability flickered across their faces, bared for just a moment amid the chaos they had orchestrated.

The port, once a canvas for clandestine alliances, now bore witness to the unraveling of carefully laid plans. The shock on their faces mirrored the seismic shift in power dynamics, a stark reminder that even the architects of betrayal could be blindsided.

Seizing the moment, you acted swiftly, drawing a concealed gun and aiming it at Myungho's stomach. The sudden threat disrupted the calculated dance of deceit, leaving Myungho staggered by the impact of the shot. The crack of gunfire echoed in the night, punctuating the escalating drama.

With the grip on you released, you walked purposefully toward Joshua. "If you really want to get it, then get it by yourself," you asserted, the words laden with a mix of defiance and resolve. The revelation had turned the tables, and now the power dynamic teetered on the edge of retribution.

Raising the gun, you pointed it at Joshua's head, the port's ambient sounds providing an eerie backdrop to this dramatic showdown. "To hell with both of you," you declared, the words carrying the weight of betrayal and the determination to break free from the shackles of their deceit. The air crackled with a charged intensity, marking a turning point in this intricate dance of loyalty and betrayal.

"As we knew, both agents Y/n and Myungho were very diligent and loyal. They were our siblings, our children, our family, and our friends. May their souls rest in peace," solemn words hung in the air, marking the culmination of a funeral that served as a testament to the sacrifices made in the clandestine world of espionage.

As the NIS agents stood united in both grief and silent acknowledgment of the perils they faced daily, the atmosphere remained heavy with the weight of loss. The caskets, side by side, symbolized the interconnected destinies that had led to this tragic end. Flowers adorned the area, a feeble attempt to inject a touch of solace into the stark reality of their fallen comrades.

After the formalities, Wonwoo stepped back from the circle of mourners. His eyes caught a figure wearing a mask and hat lingering in the shadows. Carefully, he approached, recognizing the need for discretion in their covert world. Together, they walked towards where Wonwoo had parked his car earlier.

"Your funeral would pretty much look like that in case you'll curious," Wonwoo remarked, acknowledging the clandestine nature of their existence.

In response, you scoffed and hissed, "Fuck you," tossing the cap and mask onto the backseat. The exchange carried a residue of bitterness, a reminder of the thin line between duty and personal sacrifice in the intricate dance of espionage. The port, once a hub for secrets, now bore witness to the aftermath of lives lived in the shadows and the heavy toll extracted in the pursuit of elusive truths.

A week had passed since the discovery of "your" lifeless body submerged in water alongside Myungho's. The pursuit of Choi Seungcheol had come to a somber close, marked by the tragic demise of two dedicated agents in a public spectacle. The National Intelligence Service (NIS) found itself thrust into the spotlight, with the media seizing the opportunity to expose the agency's inner workings, tarnishing its once-respected image.

In the aftermath, you handed a necklace to Wonwoo, solemnly instructing him, "Do this last favor for me." Wonwoo, eyebrows raised, initially puzzled, finally grasped the situation. "As Yoon Y/n? Alright, I was taken aback for a sec. Dude, I was just attending your funeral!" he exclaimed in relief.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, you replied, "Agent Yoon is no more, Wonwoo. Please welcome the newest persona, Jeon Y/n!" Your announcement was met with your own sense of excitement, while Wonwoo couldn't help but roll his eyes at your characteristic flair for the dramatic.

If only you didn't promise him big money, he won't let you use his surname.

Two years later, you find yourself standing in front of the iconic statue of Marcus Aurelius in Rome, reflecting on the profound changes that have unfolded since adopting your new identity as Jeon Y/n. Life has taken unexpected turns, leading you down a path of reinvention. Shedding the cloak of espionage, you embraced a role far removed from the covert world – that of a counselor.

Roaming the world, your journey eventually brought you to Rome, a city steeped in history and timeless beauty. A client, seeking solace and guidance, had specifically requested a month of regular sessions. The cobblestone streets echoed with the whispers of ancient stories as you navigated through the enchanting blend of past and present.

As a counselor, your days are now filled with meaningful conversations, helping others navigate the intricate tapestry of their lives. The weight of secrets has given way to the liberation of shared emotions, and the art of healing has become your newfound purpose. The serene atmosphere of Rome serves as a backdrop to these sessions, adding an extra layer of tranquility to the therapeutic journey.

Standing before the stoic statue of Marcus Aurelius, you ponder the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of embracing a new identity. The winds of change have carried you to this moment, where the echoes of ancient wisdom mingle with the whispers of contemporary souls seeking guidance.

Your phone rings, and it's your client representative on the line. "Hi, Ms. Jeon. I would like to inform you that Mr. Lee would be available today at 3 o'clock. I'll send you the location for the counseling session. And I'm so sorry for the sudden reschedule."

You reply calmly, "It's okay, I'll be there first to prepare the counseling session if you don't mind."

The representative reassures you, "It's totally fine. Enjoy your time in Rome."

With the call ended, you take a moment to appreciate the city's timeless charm before gearing up for the upcoming session. The cobblestone streets and ancient architecture seem to whisper tales of resilience, mirroring the very themes you navigate in your counseling sessions. As you await the location details, the anticipation of another transformative encounter with a client adds a layer of purpose to your journey through the heart of Rome.

Arriving at the hotel room designated for today's counseling session, you meticulously organize your materials, mentally preparing for the upcoming encounter. The ambiance of the room exudes a mix of professionalism and quietude, a fitting space for the intricate nature of your counseling work.

As you immerse yourself in thoughts, the distinct sound of footsteps interrupts your focus. A familiar voice, unexpectedly speaking Korean, greets you. Turning your head, disbelief washes over you as you meet Choi Seungcheol's gaze, his sly smirk adding an element of intrigue.

"You are Mr. Lee?!" you demand, your tone revealing a blend of astonishment and assertiveness. Seungcheol nods, seemingly amused by your reaction.

With a nonchalant tone, he responds, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Jeon. Should we start the session?"

Your breath hitched, lingering in the air, though the kiss had ended moments ago. Seungcheol, face flushed, entered the car, tapping clumsily on unnecessary features of his own car, seemingly surprised by his own actions. As you turned your head toward him, his eyes locked onto yours, a profound connection established as if you had discovered something essential in this vast world.

The sensation surpassed the satisfaction of profits in Seungcheol's clubs or the triumph of a successful case. It was a peculiar feeling, one that transcended tangible accomplishments.

Your gaze drifted to his neck, where a familiar necklace rested. Without a second thought, you grabbed his collar, surprising him once again. "Your necklace," you mumbled, and his eyes followed your gaze.

Seungcheol, flustered, stammered, "M—my necklace. Oh, it was... Shoot! I thought you were gonna kiss me again." His attempt at diversion was met with skepticism.

Locking eyes with him, you asked, "Is this from Jeonghan?" Seungcheol nodded slowly, still in an awkward position, but his gaze remained fixated on your lips.

Closing his eyes, Seungcheol suppressed a surge of longing within him. "Give me," you demanded, suddenly unhooking the necklace. Your proximity was dangerously close, and he swore he could detect the scent of your body.

Seated again, you opened the necklace, revealing something Seungcheol had never known. "You can open it?" It turned out to be a flash drive. Plugging it into your phone, you discovered something crucial that you had been searching for – "The Black Files." Without hesitation, you showed Seungcheol the file on your phone and promptly sent it to Wonwoo.

In the tense atmosphere, with evidence of Joshua's betrayal in hand, Seungcheol's bodyguard unveiled a revelation that brought clarity to the mysteries lingering in Seungcheol's mind. You proposed an audacious plan to Seungcheol, urging him to seek Joshua's assistance for your swift departure to Japan tonight. Initially resistant due to the inherent danger involving you, Seungcheol hesitated, his internal struggle palpable.

"I could be a better fighter than you, Seungcheol," you confidently asserted, persuading him to entertain the daring idea. As Seungcheol reluctantly agreed to be part of the plan, you swiftly connected with Wonwoo, seeking his alliance in this perilous endeavor.

"I just have to hide on the boat and pretend I'm one of their people, right?" Wonwoo's words unveiled his cyber expertise, underscoring the contrast with his lack of field experience.

Rolling your eyes at Wonwoo's comment, you took charge, instructing him, "Pretend to sedate Seungcheol. I know they're after me for The Black Files." The gravity of the situation hung in the air as you navigated the intricate details with determination.

Hooking the necklace back onto Seungcheol's neck, you expressed gratitude, saying, "Thank you for taking care of my brother's stuff." The gesture carried a weight of acknowledgment and trust. As a token of appreciation, you kissed Seungcheol's left cheek, leaving a lingering sense of warmth amidst the impending dangers that lay ahead.

"So, how have you been since then, Seungcheol?" you gently inquired, your voice breaking the silence that enveloped the car as the complexities of your mission unfolded.

"I'm having a very good life. I was dropped in Japan, and Wonwoo had left me without a word. He was a very cold man," Seungcheol revealed, his tone carrying a hint of abandonment that lingered from his past experiences.

"He is."

"Still? I don't understand how you're still a friend of his," he remarked, curiosity etched across his features, his gaze seeking understanding.

You smiled, your eyes studying his demeanor. "You're different, Seungcheol. I mean in a good way."

Seungcheol responded with a playful smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "How do you know that just by our first session? Am I in good hands?"

Laughter bubbled from you, a refreshing sound amidst the tension. "Thanks for reaching me," you expressed sincerely, the gratitude apparent in your voice.

"I'm more grateful for you, for staying alive," Seungcheol confessed, acknowledging the significance of your presence in his life.

The conversation took an unexpected turn as you playfully probed, "Did you have a crush on me, Seungcheol?"

Caught off guard, Seungcheol blushed, attempting to articulate his feelings. "You know what? Yes, I did have a crush on you, and I might still. But how could someone not? You're amazing and—"

Before he could finish, a sudden peck landed on his lips, catching him by surprise. A genuine smile formed on his face, reflecting the warmth of the moment.

Seizing the opportunity, Seungcheol reached for your hand, pulling you closer. His touch was both gentle and possessive as he cradled your neck, initiating a more passionate exchange of kisses. What began as a simple peck evolved into a deeper connection, emphasizing the unspoken emotions between you.

"I actually like you," he admitted, the confession lingering in the air, signaling a shift in the dynamics of your relationship amidst the intricate dance of the mission's complexities.

"She's indeed so pretty," remarked Seungcheol, a university student whose gaze remained fixed on your figure as you fought fiercely to secure your position as a national Taekwondo athlete.

"Ya! Don't you see she's drenched in sweat? Disgusting..." Jeonghan mumbled, expressing his dissent to Seungcheol's admiration.

"No! I mean, she radiates beauty," Seungcheol clarified, his admiration for you evident in his eyes.

Jeonghan, unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "That's why I never asked you to come to her competition, you moron," he stated, walking away and leaving Seungcheol in a state of starstruck infatuation.

Seungcheol, determined, chased after Jeonghan, making a request that lingered in the air, "Introduce me to her."

"No!" Jeonghan bluntly refused.

"Come on..."

"I said no! Why are you so hard-headed?"

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dotster001 · 2 years

Note

Hi hi! I saw your requests were open so I had an idea for some Twst boys well Floyd, Jamil, Rook, and Vil, weird group I know but they're my faves

So I've been dealing with burnout recently with school and I can imagine MC being a lot worse with Crowley and all- How would the boys react if one day MC just- passed out, like just randomly with out prompting. So maybe some comfort fluff?

Take your time you're amazing!

(thank you for your patience boo. I know this has been in my inbox for a while. I hope your burnout is better, and if not I hope this provides a little levity)

Part Two Part Three

He's been so boooooooored lately. Shrimpy, why ya gotta spend all that time working for Crowley? You should be hanging out with him! But that's just kind of your way, and he knows he can't really stop you. So he mopes around the lounge while you're off doing who knows what.

When you stop by the Monstro Lounge, he is so fucking excited! It's the most alive he's seemed in weeks! But when you apologetically tell him that you're here to discuss food at the upcoming festival that Crowley has "graciously" allowed you to plan and manage with Azul, he gets pouty and storms off.

He walks into the VIP room to apologize to you just in time to see you collapse. He immediately is scooping you up, not even processing what Azul is trying to tell him.

He takes you to his room, clears the clutter off his bed, decides it's not clean enough for, then lays you on Jade's bed. He grabs his fluffiest blanket, and wraps you up in it. He doesn't want to leave your side, so he texts Jade to bring you a glass of water, and a mug of tea.

When he wakes up, he makes you drink both. He's a little intimidating about it, but it's just because he's worried and wants to make sure you feel better fast.

When you've drunk all that, he asks what happened. You tell him you've been so busy running around for this event, that you have had little time to take care of yourself, and your brain kind of shut itself off for a minute. He acts oddly calm during the explanation, then flops on top of you.

"I'm staying right here until you get some sleep, Shrimpy."

Once he's certain you are resting, he and Jade take a little trip to see a certain crow.

When you wake up, Floyd excitedly tells you that him and Jade are now your partners on the project! Yay! Floyd ends up doing a lot of the work, even without any prompting. It's a win win for him. You can take time to recover, and he has an excuse to be around you.

For some reason, when the event is over….your workload from Crowley is significantly smaller. How about that?

Jamil knew this school was run stupidly and inneficiently. But when Crowley makes you, a student, fill in for a teacher who is on his honeymoon, as a professor, that's when he's lost all faith in NRC.

He offers to help you immediately, but you insist that you can handle it. He tries to argue with you on it, but you tell him that he already has too much to do, and you'd hate yourself if he added your workload to his. He begrudgingly lets you alone about it for now. He doesn't want to distress you.

You're grading papers in the Scarabia kitchen when you pass out mid sentence. He's calm under pressure, so he sighs, and carries you to the lounge laying you on one of the lavish sofas the Asim family provided. (He guesses they are good for something)

Kalim chooses that moment to walk into the room, and immediately panics. Jamil let's him know things are under control, then sends him to get a cold cloth. When he returns he places that on your forehead, and waits.

The second your eyes are open, he initiates snake whisper. He asks how long you've been awake, and you tell him the truth. You haven't slept in 30 hours, due to grading the 100+ midterm papers that needed to be finished by the end of the week. You hadn't eaten in 12 hours, and at some point every paper was looking the same

Once he gets his information, he tells you he will be finishing the grading, and that after this you will not be helping Crowley until HE tells you it's a reasonable workload. Does he feel bad for hypnotizing you? Yes. Does he think this is the only way to make your brain take a break? Also Yes.

Once he releases you from the spell, he tells you you passed out, and that he's going to be taking care of you for a couple days. He sleeps on the floor while you take his bed. He stays up late and finishes the papers. He cooks you foods full of proteins to get your energy back up. He gives you warm milk with honey and cinnamon to help you sleep.

He tells Crowley that he hypnotized you, and you will no longer be doing what he says without Jamil screening the workload. Bird man pouts about having to actually do his job instead of dumping everything on you, but your workload becomes much more reasonable after that.

Vil would have to be very busy to not notice his sweet potato is not getting the rest they need.

That said, he'd had to take two weeks off school after his new fashion line had had some major set backs. While he was gone, Crowley had swooped in with the paperwork Vil usually did, added the paperwork he was supposed to be doing, and you'd fallen out of the self care routine that Vil had worked so hard to make a habit for you.

When he'd come back, he was working on his make up homework, while you were working on what he was horrified to find out late was his paperwork. He notices the bags under your eyes, and the way you rub them every couple minutes as though your vision is blurry, but he doesn't want to ruin what is the first moment he's had with you in two weeks. And it's so peaceful, the two of you quietly working in the same room. He's getting distracted by thinking about a future like this, when he feels you slump against him.

At first he thinks it's a bid for affection, which he is more than happy to give, but when you aren't responsive, he gets worried. He pulls out some smelling salts from his drawer (cause of course he has those) and once the smell brings you back to him, he runs his fingers along your scalp and asks what's been going on.

Once you tell him, he scowls, and walks into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he tells you he's drawn you a bath. When you go into the bathroom, you see it's not only a bath, but a Bubble bath, where the bubble changed color and floated, and then popped in a shower of glitter.

Once you're in the bath, he puts a facemask on you, turns on some soothing music, and dims the lights. He assured you he will be back and leaves the bathroom. He stations Rook outside the bathroom door, because he knows he will hear it if something is wrong, then goes to yell at Crowley. (He's mortified when he finds out half of it was his paperwork)

He comes back to his room, and Rook tells him he can tell by your breathing that you are peacefully snoozing in the bath. Vil re-enters as Rook leaves, and wakes you up. He helps you finish cleaning up, then lets you borrow his softest pajamas. He makes you a smoothie, then holds you close, running his fingers through your hair, and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, until you drift off. He's taking you with him on his next business trip.

Like Vil, there would have to be extreme circumstances for Rook to not have stopped you before the point of collapse. (In fact, we're going to work with that idea)

All the janitors had gone on strike. (Surprise) Luckily for Crowley, he had a perfect non magical student who would be so generous to fill in since their food, board, and classes were all free.

It was a job for multiple magic users, not ONE magicless student. You made it halfway through the day, before Rook gave up just stalking you, and decided to discuss how shaky your muscles had gotten and how you hadn't taken a lunch break yet.

He seductively backs you against a chair to trick you into sitting down for a moment, and then gracefully sits in your lap…and refuses to get up. His petit lapin will not work themselves to exhaustion. That wouldn't be very beautiful.

He texts Epel to bring you both lunch. You think once you eat, he will let you continue cleaning, despite how sore your body is. You are so silly! It's adorable that you would think that! He giggles then kisses your forehead. And that's when it fully hits you how trapped you are.

He carries you off to his room, and makes you lay down while he massages your tired muscles. You get lulled into complacency while he does so. He thinks it's adorable how safe you feel near a hunter such as himself.

Once your body is fully restored, you both pay a visit to Crowley, where Rook's eyes go dark, despite his ever present smile, and he tells him in no uncertain terms that you will not be a janitor, and that if your finances were truly an issue, he could take it up with Rook.

While Crowley would normally jump on any opportunity for money like that, Rook's eyes have a silent warning in them. Not that you notice. You're just enamored with your boyfriend acting as your knight in shining armor. Just the way he likes it.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0

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angstywaifu · 3 months

Text

Liam Mairi - Eyes On Me Darling

Well overnight you guys have ticked over the follower count to 100. And for something I didn’t think would go past a one off post nearly 2 months ago…. This is just crazy. Thank you all for the love. And for that. I figured you Liam lovers can have your smut early. Oh and you Garrick lovers will get your angst later this week now!

Prompt from @fw-gt - Keep Your Eyes On Me

A/N: This prompt.... My mind went crazy with it for Liam. To the point I wrote 2 of these. Ultimately I loved this one way more. But the other will come out at a later date. I am aware there is another fic of Liam with Reader for a similar kind of theme, but I think its different enough it works. Ironically I was writing this one as the other one dropped. Requests are still open if anyone wants to request anything! Warnings: 18+, Smut

Masterlist

I was glad the halls were empty this late at night. Most of the other cadets already back in their rooms asleep as I stumbled back to my room. Another surge of arousal surges through me and I manage to stumble over to an archway to hold myself up as my knees start to buckle. Why did my dragon decide tonight of all nights to get it on with another dragon? I had tried to slam my shields up, but whatever they were up to must have had my dragons emotions heightened as it did little to simmer the waves of arousal that racked my body. I just prayed I wouldn’t come across anyone else and I could make it to my room or to the showers to douse myself in freezing cold water till it was over. The wave of arousal simmers enough for me to push off the archway and continue the track to my dorm. Only a few more corridors and some stairs and I would be there. But clearly my dragon had other ideas for me as another wave of arousal ripples through me, more intense than the last. My knees buckle, I stick my hands out to break my fall. But the impact never comes as something wraps around my waist. I go rigid as an arm grazes the skin where my shirt had ridden up. It takes all my effort not to arch or gasp at the touch. The touch my body is craving thanks to my dragon. The arms pull me up, the owner of them walking in front of me, their hands on their shoulders. Liam. My god damn best friend. Shit.

“Are you ok?” He asks nervously, his blue eyes scanning me for any injuries. When he comes up short for anything visible his eyebrows furrow.

”Y-yeah, I’m fine.” I manage to get out before I grimace in pain. No not pain. Lust. Desire. I had to get away from Liam before another wave hit me.

His eyes harden as they meet mine. “You nearly collapsed to the floor. That doesn’t look like ok to me.”

I go to respond, but another wave of desire ripples through me, doubling me over and into Liam’s chest as I stumble forward. This time I can’t hide the gasp as my body collides with his. It doesn’t help when his hands reach up and cup my cheeks. The touch setting my skin on fire.

”You are not ok. You’re doubling over in pain, and you’re breaking out in a sweat. I’m taking you to the healers.”

”No!” I rush out as he goes to turn me around. He stops and looks down at me shocked. I had never snapped at him like that.

”Y/N you are clearly in pain. Let me help you.” He pleads with me as he crouches down to look me in the eyes.

As my eyes wander his face, taking him in, my body and brain scream at me to close the distance. Pull him into me. But I can’t. He’s my best friend. But how the hell do I shake him. With the state I’m in he won’t leave me alone. Not till he knows I’m ok. Shit. I was going to have to tell him.

”It’s not that kind of pain.” I tell him as steadily as I can. Another wave of pleasure rips through me, this time I manage to stumble backwards away from Liam.

”Then tell me what's wrong. Let me help you. Please.” He pleads, no begs of me.

I look up and meet his worried blue eyes, his blonde hair now a mess from clearly running his hands though them. Gods did he look good right now. He was in casual attire. Some boots, linen pants and a tight fitting black t-shirt that fit him perfectly and showed off his rebellion mark.

”I-its embarrassing. I promise I’ll be fine.” I plead to him. “I-I just need to get to my room.”

He almost looks angry at my words, a fire burning in his usually cool and calm blue eyes. “I will take you once you tell me what’s wrong.”

I push past him and manage to get a few steps before I’m yet again succumbing to a wave of pleasure that buckles my knees. And yet again Liam catches me, my hand grasping tightly in his shirt as his arms wrap around me. My body starts to tremble at his touch. And with how he’s holding me, I know he can tell.

”I-its m-my Dragon.” I get out between deep breaths.

”You’re dragon? What are they doing to cause you to be in pain?” He demands.

I shake my head. “It’s n-not pain. T-they’re…” I pause, unsure how to phrase this. But I know I’m just gonna have to be blunt. “They’re having sex with another dragon.”

I feel Liam’s arms tighten around me as he sucks in a deep breath at my words as silence falls over us for a moment before another wave hits me. My hands fisting in Liam’s shirt as I rest my forehead against his shoulder. Liam mutters something as he tilts his head back to look the ceiling, but I don’t catch it as I ride out the wave of pleasure racking my body.

Liam quickly scoops my up into his arms. This time I let myself crave his body and warmth as I wrap my arms around his neck and lay my head against his neck. My body is craving his touch, my fingers making their way to his hair at the back of his neck, slowly playing with it. Liam’s arms tighten around me as I do. Within a few minutes I feel Liam kick open a door I assume to be mine. Yes Liam would have taken me back to my room. But as soon as he places me on the bed I know it’s not mine. It… It smells like him. I open my eyes to see Liam kneeling on the floor in front of me in the middle of his room. He reaches out and cups my cheeks with his hands, I almost recoil at his touch. I can’t wreck this friendship despite how much my body is craving him right now. But his hands clamp down and stop me from moving away.

”Let me help you.” He whispers as he leans in and leans his forehead on mine.

No this wasn’t happening. Liam, my best friend Liam was not offering to do this. He knew what he was offering. We hadn’t been taught about this, but from our knowledge of mated dragons we all knew that if they decided to have some fun, it caused havoc for the rider. It was extremely rare for a dragon to have sex outside of being mated, but it did happen. And it so happened that is what was happening right now.

”N-no you can’t do that. I won’t let you. I’ll be fine.” I whisper as I shake my head.

”But I want to help Y/N. I want this. I want to help.”

I open my eyes and look at him. His eyes are burning with lust and desire that I am sure is replicated in mine. No I know it is. I couldn’t deny the slight feelings I had for Liam regardless of what was happening right now. But I never let them be more than a what if. Never let them grow from more than that.

”I think there’s only one way to help.”

The way he smirks at me would have had my heart racing if it wasn’t already.

”I know.” He says softly as he starts unlacing my boots.

All I can do is sit there and watch as he takes his time to unlace them and slide them off my feet one by one. He runs his hands up my leather pants before grasping the bottom of my shirt, my body arching at his touch as his fingers graze my stomach. He chuckles as he slowly lifts the shirt up, placing a kiss to my stomach as he does so. My cheeks flush as I lean my head back and do my best to muffle the moan at his touch. His chuckle only fuelling the blush on my cheeks. He lifts the shirt over my head before leaning forward and kissing the tops of my breasts still covered by my black lacy bra. I mentally thank myself for putting on a nice matching set after my shower after classes earlier. I watch as his hands roam my waist and back, his blue eyes darkening as he takes me all in before moving his hands to the ties of my leather pants. In my lust filled state, I automatically raise my hips as he finishes the ties, quickly removing the pants from my legs. He’s quick to get his hands back on me, roaming my legs. Massaging the skin of my thighs as he works his way up to the band of the black lace panties I have on. He hooks his fingers into the bands before working them down my legs, before throwing them with the rest of my clothes in the corner of his room.

I go to clamp my legs together, as if my mind suddenly realises what’s about to happen. But Liam is quicker and stronger, and easily pries my legs apart with his hands, fully exposing me to him. As he looks up at me, all I can see is the pupils of his eyes. Only a small slither of blue around the edge. He pulls me into him, picking me up with ease, spinning me around and placing me on the very edge of his desk before kneeling in front of me again. I gasp and let my head roll back as he kisses up the inside of my thigh. He lightly pinches the inside of my leg, causing me to yelp as I look back at him. Gods I could have died and gone to heaven with the way he was looking at me while kneeled in front of me.

“Keep your eyes on me. Think you can do that darling?” He asks before kissing his way up my inner thigh.

I nod down at him before he lightly nips at my leg, another yelp leaving my lips.

”I need words darling. You know how to use those right?” He asks as he raises an eye brow at me.

I knew Liam had a confident and leadership demeanour about him, but I never expected this. And gods was it hot.

I gulp and nod. “I-i can do that.”

He smirks as he runs his hands up both my thighs before leaning forward and latching his lips onto my clit before inserting a finger into me. I gasp and moan at the pleasure, and as I go to roll my head back, a sharp pinch to my thigh has my eyes snapping back to his blue ones a that are already looking at me. Finally pleased he has my attention he adds another finger. I gasp at the sensation as I roll my hips forward, wanting to feel more of him. I feel him chuckle at my movements. As he adds a third finger and starts to lick up and down, my hands flies to his hair and pulls tightly on it pulling him closer to me.

“N-need m-more.” I beg softly, my eyes threatening to flutter close.

He leans back, fingers still moving back and forth inside me. His lips and chin are wet with my arousal. “Ask nicely darling.”

I clench around his fingers, causing Liam to chuckle at me, knowing the effect his words have on me.

”P-please Liam. I need more, more of you.” I plead.

“How can I say no to you.” He says with a smirk as he stands and pulls me into a kiss.

I take advantage of him being closer and grasp the bottom of his shirt and quickly pull it over his head. As soon as its over his head he grasps my head and pulls me into a deeper kiss. I whine at the loss of his fingers between my legs. Another wave of intense pleasure wracks my body from my dragons end, causing me to break away from the kiss and gasp for air. The feeling more intense as it mixes with my own pleasure. Liam uses the moment to quickly kick off his own boots and linen pants, leaving him fully exposed in front of me. My eyes must go wide as I take him in.

”You can take it darling, don’t worry.”

I merely nod as he pulls me into another kiss, this time pulling me off the desk. He breaks away and quickly spins me around so I am facing the desk. I turn my head to ask what he’s doing, but his hands tell me. He lightly pushes on my back, telling me to bend over the desk. I balance myself on my elbows as he places light kisses down my back. I moan with pleasure as I feel his fingers between my legs again, pushing into me once more. My fingers dig into the wood of the desk at the sensation.

His breath tickles my ear as he leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Just relax darling. I’ve got you.”

I nod as he removes his fingers from inside my, to quickly be replaced with something else. Something far larger and thicker than his fingers. He sinks into me slowly. And with me bent over the desk, gods did it feel amazing. I now understood why he had kept adding fingers earlier as he stretches me open inch by inch. I feel him twitch inside me as I clamp down around him. Eventually he bottoms out, both of us groaning at the sensation. Liam wastes no time in moving back and forth, each thrust hitting me in just the right places every single time. I raise my head up and realise a mirror is in front of me. A mirror that gives me the perfect view of Liam’s blissed out face as he thrust in and out of me at a brutal pace. He looks up and meets my eyes in the mirror, a smile breaking out across his face as they meet. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls my back flush against his chest. Both of us moaning at the sensation of the new angle. If Liam didn’t have his arms around me I would have collapsed to the floor. My climax getting closer and closer with each thrust.

“Look into the mirror darling. Keep your eyes on me again ok?” He whispers into my ear as one of his hands runs down my stomach.

I nod and meet his gaze in the mirror as his fingers rub circles on my very sensitive clit. My knees give out for a different reason, as his other arm and hand hold me tightly against him. Not long after I meet my end as I clamp down tightly around him, screaming Liam’s name from my lips as my hand clamps down tightly on the arm wrapped around me. He lays me back on the desk as he keeps up his brutal pace as I squirm and writher beneath him. I feel his pace falter and look into the mirror to see his head thrown back, his mouth open in a silent moan as he finishes as well. Liam collapses forward, his hands hitting the desk either side of me as he braces himself. His breath tickling my back as he recovers. He places a soft kiss to my back as he pulls out. He chuckles as I groan at the loss. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me over to his bed, sitting me in his lap as he leans up against the head board. I sigh as I lay against his chest, my head resting against his neck.

”Did I help your issue?” He asks after a few minutes of us just enjoying the embrace.

I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

”Good, though I wouldn’t complain about a round 2 if you needed more help.”

I roll my eyes at him even if he can’t see it. But his fingers lazily trace circles around one of my nipples, with the others roaming lower and lower, I know we have a long night ahead.

#liam mairi smut #liam mairi #liam mairi x you #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing smut

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haoboutyou · 25 days

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fever dream | boo seungkwan

fluff | 894 words | food mention: soup

an: chanting rite of passage rite of passage nsnsjsjwjz here’s a sick fic

there are three things that come into seungkwan’s mind the moment he opens his eyes:

everything is too loud and piercing at the same time.

he must be dying because an angel is sitting right next to him.

the warm damp cloth on his forehead needs to be yeeted off immediately.

“good morning!”

contrary to your calming angelic presence, your cheery voice causes him to wince, way too bright for his current state. he moans, grunts escaping him as he tries to sit up. your hands rush to support him, pulling him up and adjusting his pillows to make him more comfortable.

it takes a while for him to remember his current predicament– he’s hot and he’s cold (god, he wishes he’s yes and he’s no), and his skin feels sticky all over. it doesn’t help that the pounding on his head seemed to worsen the longer he looked straight too.

seungkwan rubs his temple, attempting to soothe the headache. “ugh…what time is it?”

“it’s a little past 2pm.” you’re in his swivel chair, laptop sitting abandoned on the study table by the bed. removing the damp cloth, you give him a little pat on the head. his eyebrow shoots up, as if to question how you got into his room in the first place.

“jeonghan called me saying you’re sick. are you feeling any better now?”

ah, so it was the devil in disguise that sent an angel from heaven. seungkwan starts to nod, only to immediately wince when the throbbing got worse. you shoot him a look of pity, standing up from your seat.

“you haven’t eaten yet, right?” you’re walking closer to him, replacing the cloth on his forehead with the back of your hand. a frown appears when you realise his fever hasn’t gone down one bit.

“gosh, you’re so hot!”

“only for you, baby.” his poor attempt at a wink is met with a deadpan face of your own, as you scrunch your nose at his reply.

“let’s get some food in you, yeah? then you can get some medicine.”

he watches as you disappear out of the room. seungkwan slumps back into his plush pillows, feeling only slightly better than he was this morning.

it’s not that he wasn’t grateful for your presence. he just wasn’t expecting it. you had only been dating for a month, after all– he just wasn’t used to having you at his weakest.

nonetheless, he’s never been more thankful for your presence when you return, bowls carefully balanced on a tray. his stomach chooses this exact moment it let out a grumble; seungkwan flushes a slightly fever-induced red while you giggle.

“soup,” you declare, setting his bowl down in front of him. you place yours on the study table, and he murmur a quick thanks before eating. you watch seungkwan for a moment, content with watching him eat before you touch your own.

it’s a little odd for you to experience a subdued seungkwan completely unlike his normal boisterous self. however, that doesn’t stop the light conversation that fills the table as you both eat your dinner.

his still-emerging fever fogs up his brain, so he opts to just listen to you ramble about your day instead. you laugh when he tells you how the soup warms his chest, getting rid of whatever chills he still had clinging on. seungkwan sighs in relief as the soup soothes his unexpectedly sore throat, prompting another chuckle. you push the box of tissues closer to him when you hear seungkwan start sniffling again.

he’s done with his bowl before you are, and you make sure he downs all of the medicine.

(he’s a little surprised at the assortment of medicine you present him with.

“wha- since when did we have all these?”

“i dropped by the pharmacy first just in case! but kwan, you should really stock up on your medicine cabinet.” your frown of disapproval could not get any cuter.)

no really, seungkwan thinks he’s been blessed by an angel. he’s settled back in bed by the time you return from putting away the dishes, re-opening your laptop. he watches you work for a moment, letting the clicking sound of your keyboard lull him back to sleep.

“thanks for coming, y/n.”

you pause, looking away from your screen. seungkwan has a dopey smile gracing his high cheeks, and you can see him physically fight the urge to succumb to the drowsy medicine.

your hand reaches out to comb through his hair. his fever’s gotten down slightly, you note. pushing his bangs up, you lean in to press a faint kiss on his forehead.

“go to sleep, kwan. i’ll be here until your roommate gets back, alright?” gosh, how did he get so lucky?

the gentle rhythm of your touch slowly pushes him back into a dreamless sleep.

he thinks he might love you.

his sickness-ridden brain doesn’t realise that he’s said that out loud. your hand falters slightly at his words, but only barely.

it doesn’t take long for seungkwan to fall back asleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest and his soft snores a clear indicator. you can’t pull your hand back– his hand somehow found itself tightly intertwined with yours.

it’s a little bit harder to do your work now, but that’s okay. you think you might love him too.

#seventeen #seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #seventeen fluff #svt #boo seungkwan #seventeen drabbles #svt fluff #boo seungkwan fluff #seventeen scenarios #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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simpcityy · 11 months

Text

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x platonic reader #Miguel O’Hara x daughter reader #father figure miguel ohara

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 months

Text

Rocking the Tides 🌊

RE4R!Leon S. Kennedy x Spy!reader

A/N: I'm not dead, yay!! I've been so busy and just couldn't find the time to write. I have an extra long treat for you guys, though! Thank you for the request, dear anon!! Enjoy <3

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: you can find the ask here!

Requested by: anon

Warnings: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, nipple play, rough sex, knife kink (kinda?) sexual tension, big feelings, angst, depictions of heavy injuries, near death.

Word count: 4.8k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

🌬○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○🩵○○○○○○○○○○○○○○🌬

You comfortably moved in the shadows, sneaking around in the dark, observing everything you could. And right now, that was him. Leon Kennedy. The Presidents golden boy. Tsk. You wanted to roll your eyes so far back that you could see your brain. There was nothing golden about him. There was only rust. He was the rust eating away at your sanity. Worming its way through your thoughts. There was an angry scowl waiting in the back of your throat every time he crossed your path. And that happened way too often.

Now it was your turn.

You quietly followed him through the rugged roads of this corrupt village. You'd stumbled upon him, having to do a double take. Your eyes didn't deceive you, it was in fact Leon Kennedy you saw moving around in the village. Ever so stoic and organized. Questions plagued your mind. What was he up to? Why was he here? Why was he always in your way? Questions that he'd have to answer sooner or later. And he would need to answer to you. Your favorite part, by far, was fucking with him.

So, you'd occasionally snap a twig or two, throw a small rock against a broken window just to see his head shoot towards the noise. There was an uncertainty in his eyes every time. What was that? After searching around with his iron gaze, he'd decided it was nothing and moved on. Ha. Fool. It wasn't nothing. It was you. And he was in for a.. shall we say warm welcome.

"Boo," you whispered from right behind him after having caught him off guard and sneaking up to him. He was looking at a map of the place, brows scrunched together and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. How careless. And cute. Leon nearly jumped out of his skin, his shoulders tensing. But he remembered his training. Without thinking he immediately turned around and pressed his combat knife to your throat.

A warm welcome indeed. As warm as your breath that fanned over his neck, sending chills down his spine. Like he'd felt that before. He didn't know whether it was good or bad. He shuddered at the thought. Not being able to tell good from bad when it came to you.

The second his eyes fell on you, with your innocent smile as you batted your eyelashes at him, the fear struck and uncertain look on his features was replaced with a frown.

Leon kept the knife pressed to your throat, a stoic expression on his face. "Oooh kinky," you teased, a smirk on your face. "What do you want?" He asked firmly, not acknowledging your comment. "Just seeing the sights, that's all," you replied with a way to enthusiastic smile on your face. At least for Leon's liking. He clenched his jaw and looked away from you before his gaze met yours again. "Cut the bullshit. What are you doing here?" He urged, pushing the blade closer against the delicate skin of your neck. He was getting aggravated. Perfect.

"Can't I check up on my favorite rival?" You pouted innocently. "But if you must now," you began with a sigh, making a shimmer of curiosity appear in Leon's blue eyes, "that's classified."

You smirked. He let out a scoff. It just was so fun to toy with him like this. How his eyes darkened, his jaw muscle tensing, the vein on his neck deliciously popping out. It was sight for Gods. As much as you disliked him.. he looked good. Like really fucking good. Too good.

"You're wasting my time." He scowled angrily, putting his knife back in the sheath. You watched him as he walked away from you and continued his path. "What? No goodbye kiss?" You playfully shot after him, which only earned you his middle finger in return. You had to physically stop yourself from laughing out loud because if you did, he surely would've shot you between the eyes.

Leon fucking despised you. Well, despise is a strong word. But to be fair, his feelings towards you were strong. Were they good strong feelings or bad ones? He didn't even know that. His insides twisted in anger every time he saw your face. You annoyed the shit out of him. Your relentless teasing and mocking which you thought was hilarious, the way you would act all innocent when he knew you weren't. Hell, he wasn't innocent either but at least he had the decency to admit it.

He couldn't stop thinking about you. You just wouldn't leave his brain. All he wanted you to do was fuck off out of his thoughts. And that little stunt you pulled back in the village? He would get you back for this tenfold. And he would win. Because let's be honest, this was a competition at this point.

You were strolling through this huge castle that you'd sneakily followed Leon and Ashley into, along the stretching hallways into grand rooms. You were on a job, but this was way more fun. You weren't a monster either, so you took out a few foes along the way. This Ashley... you liked her. She was young and confident. And she handled this situation like a champ. God knows you wouldn't have been this calm if you were in her place.

You may or may not have snagged a few expensive looking things on the way, too. The person living here obviously didn't need them anymore. Spotting an ornate vase in the corner of a room filled with nothing but marble statues, you walked towards it. It looked like a ballroom, a big open center that would be perfect to dance in. Waltzing through the grandiose room, you imagined what it would be like to attend such a ball. Being twirled and spun around by your handsome lover, your dress moving smoothly. Not that you had such a lover. You let out a huff feeling a little silly. Eh. It's not like anyone was watching you.

You picked it up and examined it, guessing how much you could get for it. It was beautifully crafted. Impressive work. Lost in thought, you ran options through your brain- 'would Tony buy this? Nah, he doesn't appreciate the fine arts as much as he should. I'll get Mary to get me a good price-'

Fucking bastard.

"Boo."

with a blood curdling scream, the vase slipped from your hands and crashed to the ground, shattering to hundreds of pieces. Every muscle in your body tensed and a terrifying feeling settled in your stomach. Spinning around with wide eyes filled with panic and the anticipation of what horrible thing was to come, you let out the breath you held when you saw Leon doubled over with laughter, holding his stomach.

The relief that washed over you quickly turned into rage. "Fucking asshole! I was gonna sell that!" You yelled, your face contorted in anger. "Do you know how hard it is to make a living with mercenary jobs?!" You added, your face turning red. Who the fuck does he think he is? This was going to be this months rent. But of course, Mr. Kennedy doesn't have to worry about that. Leon's fit of laughter came to an end as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"God, how did you not hear me? I wasn't even being quiet," he breathed out, a little breathless from laughing. "Fuck off, Kennedy." You spat, anger visible on your features. You pushed passed him, bumping your shoulder with his on purpose. Rather aggressively at that. Before you could strut away, Leon's large hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. A smirk was on his face as his grip on you never ceased and he began backing you against the nearest wall.

"Now, now, there's no reason to be so nasty, now is there?" He mused, still having that stupid smirk on his face. You laughed bitterly as your back hit the wall. "You would love if I'd get nasty, Leon," you smirked back. He had your wrist pinned against the cold marble, his other hand dangerously close to your waist. He chuckled deeply, leaning closer to your face. "I bet I would." He whispered teasingly, his warm breath blowing over your cheeks. You leaned in even closer, noses almost touching. Two can play that game. There was no way in hell you'd back down.

"Yeah, you would," you breathed. There was something different in his eyes. Something... new. Something you'd never seen before. A rare sparkle in his eyes.. was that.. longing? But.. why? Longing for what? You must've had an odd expression on your face, Leon's gaze hardened in a mere second and all traces of the seen before softness were hidden away.

"Well, I have to get going. But it was so lovely seeing you here, Agent Kennedy." You smiled, your lips almost ghosting over his. A smirk tugged at his lips, his fingertips grazing your waist. You were teasing the absolute daylights out of him, and well... he let you.

Swiftly, you grabbed a hold of him and turned the two of you around in one quick motion, making him hit the wall with a grunt. You'd snagged his knife while he was distracted and now he was the one with the knife to his throat. "Impressive." He muttered. You let out a small laugh. "I learned from the best, didn't I?" You grinned, gently trailing the knife down his chest for shoving it between his belt and pants.

You did learn from the best. You learned from him. You two had met in the police academy, became good friends, but ultimately went your own way. You'd crossed paths over the years, the friendly glances turning into an annoyed roll of the eyes. And now you were... what were you even? Who knows whatever the fuck you two had going on.

His gaze softened just a smidge at your words. "See ya," you said, turning around and walking away. He watched you walk away and a scoff fell from his lips. But not like the one in the village, no. Unlike this one, the other one was cold and full of spite. This one was.. lighthearted. You couldn't contain the smile on your cheeks as you heard him. You shot him a wink over your shoulder and slipped out of the room.

Leon sighed and chewed on his lips. He had no idea what to make of this situation. You made his blood boil but on the other hand, he only wanted to absolutely ruin you. Maybe even treat you right. Not the priority right now. Ashley was. Getting out of here alive was the priority. If a little side effect of said priority was seeing you again, well... Leon wasn't one to complain.

You were bored out of your mind. There was absolutely nothing to do. You were slouched in the driver's seat of the boat, your feet up on the steering wheel. Twirling the key around in your fingers, you stared out at the grey water and sky. This was so fucking dull. You were sure you would die of boredom. Leon's jacket was draped around your shoulders. You'd come across it at some point, wanting to rub your find in his face.

Finders keepers, losers weepers. But you couldn't deny the feeling of wanting to return it to him. To do something... nice. Your face contorted in disgust at the thought. It was probably really expensive, but it's not your fault he was careless enough to lose it. He could probably buy another one. It was very cozy, though, the soft fleece of the collar brushing against your skin ever so lightly. It was way too big on you, but it kept you warm.

Another thing you'd noticed was that it smelled like him. His cologne and natural musk. You had to stop yourself from getting lost in his scent. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you? You hate the guy. Can't stand him. Loath him. Yes. That's good. Just focus on the stuff you hate about him.

His stupid smirk on those stupid kissable lips, that you want so badly on every inch of your body and his stupid hands that you want to hold and those stupid, stupid eyes that express so much emotion and you want them to stare through you as he fucks your brains out-

Well that didn't work. You tried busying yourself with whatever just to got those thoughts out your head. You looked around the damp cave, pulling the jacket a little tighter around yourself. The boat gently swayed as the wind moved the water in small ripples and waves.

"Great, looks like I won't have to swim after all," Leon said to myself, the sound of heavy combat boots on wet stone eachoeing through the cave. A smirk crept onto your face as you heard him sigh in defeat and you could practically hear his shoulders slump and head fall forward when he caught sight of you.

"Aw, I thought you'd be happy to see me," you pouted. "So.. where are ya headed?"

"The uh.. the Island," he responded, loosely pointing out on the water. You gasped in fake excitement. "You don't say! That happens to be excatly where I'm going. What a coincidence," you marveled, obviously teasing him. "Need a ride?" You held up the little key, dangling it in his direction. Leon pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. "You're insufferable.." he grumbled before climbing in next to you. He sat down and looked at you expectantly to start the boat.

"Well? You wanna start the thing?" He urged, slightly annoyed. You laughed at him. "Oh, I don't drive, Leon," you said, dropping the key in his hand. "You gotta be fucking kidding me.." he mumbled, looking at you in disbelief. You moved over, brushing your ass against his crotch as you switched seats. You didn't miss how Leon tensed at the action. Leon cleared his throat and started the engine, finally getting closer to rescueing Ashley.

The salty spray of the sea hit your skin as you sped towards the Island. It was tangy on your tongue when you licked your lips. The ride was quiet, except for the occasional glance. "Why the hell are you wearing my jacket?" Leon asked, breaking the silence. "Found it," you replied dryly, not looking at him. "Where?"

"The village. Looked nice, be a shame to leave it to rot,"

He hummed. He looked like he didn't give another thought to you wearing his jacket, but in reality, it was driving him crazy. It looked way better on you than it did on him. Leon couldn't help the glances he shot you, the way his jacket was way too big on you. You were so much smaller than him. He could overpower you so easily, but he chooses not to.

His fingers were gripping the wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. Leon tried so hard to suppress the way his pants tightened when he saw you nuzzle into the collar of his jacket. Jesus christ, he shouldn't be thinking this. Not about you. But he couldn't help staring at your pretty lips, the way your soft hands fiddled with a strap on your pants, your effortlessly messy hair that framed your face so beautifully. How would the contours of your face look like scrunched together in otherworldly bliss as you lay beneath him, writhing in divine pleasure?-

Fuck, that just made him even harder. He steadied his gaze on the grey hues of the cliffs and the wild, rippling water.

"You ever think about Switzerland?" You asked, not looking at him. "Because I do. Every single fucking day I think about it, Leon." You said bitterly, an angry expression on your face. Leon felt a pang of guilt blossom in his chest. He stopped the boat, the rumble of the engine disappearing, only the soothing crashing of the waves being heard. He thought about it, too. His night terrors recalled the events for him every single night.

The Switzerland incident was a couple of years ago. Both you and Leon had been assigned on a mission, albeit separate ones, you'd decided it was better to team up than to storm in and potentially end up six feet under. Umbrella had a small laboratory hidden deep within the alps, where they were experimenting with a new bio weapons. Nothing unusual. You were sent to eliminate the threat and shut it down for good.

What wasn't usual, however, was the fact that it was all a fucking ruse. There was no bio weapon, no Umbrella scientists, no threats. Just a huge pile of dynamite. It was all staged just to get the two of you here and blow you into space. When you'd learned of this, you sprinted out, reaching our for the light at the exit of the cave. The place came down anyway, rocks and boulders tumbling upon you, walls collapsing. You ran for your life, Leon close on your tail. And then, it happened.

The thing you've been thinking about for years still. A large boulder broke off the ceiling, aiming directly for you. Your eyes went wide when you heard the loud noise, preparing yourself for your end. There was no way you'd get out of the way in time. The impact never came. Instead, you heard a grunt and you were pushed out of the way, your body hitting the rough stone.

Leon had pushed you out of the way. He saved you. He was buried beneath the rock, blood flowing. It was horrific. He almost died. Just because he saved you. You still remembered the weight of his body, having to drag his unconscious and bloody self out of the collapsing cavern. Your forearms were burning, your back felt like it was about to snap in half. The tears that were running down your face as you wept burned your skin like acid. Thankfully, he survived, but... you've had too many dreams where he hadn't.

"Can't believe you would do something so fucking stupid.." you mumbled, the words like venom on your tongue. You never really forgave him for risking his life to save you. You were just a shady mercenary after all, doing shady jobs for shady people, risking innocent lives if it paid enough. Leon was working for the president. Stopping evil and chaos in his tracks, saving lives, instead of risking them. He did good things and wanted to do good things. Ever the hero. You were no hero.

"Stupid?" His brows pulled together. "I did what I had to, you know that."

"You almost died, you fucking idiot!" You yelled, turning to him. His jaw clenched and he gripped the steering wheel impossibly tighter. "Get that through your sick skull! And for what? For your fucking hero complex? So you could say you saved the girl-"

you were interrupted by Leon roughly grabbing your face and smashing his lips to yours. It was rough and messy, more teeth and tongue than lips. The string finally snapped. All the bubbling feelings and tension both of you had stuffed down were now going to spill out in an avalanche, suffocating both of you. You wasted no time climbing into his lap and tugging at his blonde locks. You'd wondered if some of your tugs at his hair were too hard, but he confirmed the opposite, groaning into your mouth every time you firmly yanked at his hair.

His strong and calloused hands were viciously kneading and grabbing at your waist, pulling you as close to him as he could. Leon pushed your shirt up, exposing your bra. There was a deep growl in the back of his throat. Pushing your bra down, your bare tits were now out in the open. The misty breeze of the sea was spraying on your skin, making you shiver. He groped at your chest, kneading the soft flesh in his hands. You moaned and whined, clawing at his shirt.

He pulled away breathless, pupils blown wide and lips puffy. Leon attached his mouth to your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. His hands never left your tits, fingertips ghosting over your hardened nipples. Meanwhile, you whined and ground your hips against his crotch, feeling his throbbing cock against your clothed pussy. When he bit down on your neck, you squealed, feeling him smirk against your neck at your reaction. You grumbled and hit the back of his head, which just made him chuckle, the vibrations on your skin making a fuzzy feeling crawl up your spine. You raked your fingers down his chest until you reached the hem of his shirt, which you quickly made work of and it landed somewhere near the back of the boat.

Leon trailed sloppy kisses down your neck, all the way to your chest. He littered your skin in red and purple marks. Without warning, he took one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking at it. You threw your head back in ecstasy, cradling the back of his head, keeping him close to your tit. He tugged and rolled your other nipple in his calloused hand, making you mewl. You fiddled with his belt, which was difficult with one hand, needing to get it off. He used your moment of distraction to take your nipple between his teeth and gently bite down.

You gasped, yanking him back by his hair. "Stop biting, asshole." You gritted through your teeth breathlessly. He looked so good right now, messy hair, blushed cheeks and puffy lips. That shit eating grin on his face really rounded out the whole thing. "You love it, Princess." He smirked, the nickname making you weak in the knees.

"Shut up," you breathed, smashing your lips to his. Leon helped you unbuckle his belt, taking his hard dick out from his boxers. You moaned when you felt the warmth and heavy weight of it in your hand. You couldn't wait anymore, the ache between your thighs and the tension in your lower stomach were driving you insane. Leon must've been as eager as you, he pulled down your pants and your panties in one swift motion before you could. You were absolutely dripping. Leon groaned against your lips, pushing his tongue in your mouth.

Positioning your wet cunt over his cock, you sank down, taking all of him. The stretch was delicious, making you pull him closer. "F-Fuck- Baby," he whined, bucking his hips up into yours. The tip of his dick hit that one spot inside of when he moved his hips, making you moan. You fit like puzzle pieces, made for eachother, slotting together perfectly. "Leon.. " you moaned, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. One of his hand was on your lower back, the other on your waist.

"Move." He demanded breathlessly, digging his nails into your soft skin. You nodded, moving off his cock and letting yourself fall down on it. You let out a broken mewl, biting down on Leon's shoulder. He let his head fall back, chuckling when he felt your teeth sink into his skin. "Look who's biting now, huh?" He teased, that stupid smirk on his face once again.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..." you cried, emphasizing each phrase with a sharp slam of your hips.

You hated him for being so reckless. You hated him for being so stupid. You hated that he cared. He risked his life. For you. You hated how he made you feel when you were clutching his bleeding body, as he slowly slipped away from you. You hated how he grew distant and cold, leaving you yearning for closure and warmth. Yearning for him. "I hate you.." you croaked out half heartedly, gripping him tightly.

Leon bit his lips, hazily looking up at your blissed out form. You looked like an angel to him, strands of your sticking to your forehead from the damp breeze of the ocean and your sweat. Your face contorted in pleasure with tear streaks on your cheeks, the column of your throat deliciously exposed, your plush tits moving with the rhythm of your hips. Both of you needed this so bad. Needed the closure. After that mission a couple of years ago... you needed to feel him. Hold him close. You needed to know he was still here. That he wouldn't leave you ever again.

He felt like that, too. He wished he could've held you back then and assured you that everything was alright while you sat above his nearly dead form, wailing. His heart ached at the thought of hot tears spilling down your pretty face, letting out helpless scream after helpless scream as he lay dying in your arms. He was panting, the pleasure of your sweet pussy sqeezing him overwhelming him. "Hate me harder.. please.." he moaned, both of his hands now finding their place on your hips, aiding your movements.

"Do you know how fucking cute you looked back at the castle, twirling around like no one was watching? That little giggle you let out when you- fuck- when you tripped over your own feet? I had to try so hard not to take you right there, push you against the wall and fuck you dumb.." he rambled breathlessly. Your hips stuttered and broken moans left your lips at his confession.

"Don't let me go.." you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck. He snaked his hands around your waist and pulled you close to him, your chest pressed to his. His forehead hit your shoulder, you could feel his hot, staggered breaths against your skin.

"I won't.. I promise.." he panted, rubbing circles into the plush skin of your waist. He was hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. "S-Shit.. Leon, please kiss me.." you groaned, taking his face in your hands. You looked at him through glassy eyes, lips parted. "Anything for you,"

he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss being desperate and hungry, yet so incredibly soft. You melted against him, still bouncing on his cock. Whines and whimpers left both of you, the pent up tension that's been following you two for years making it hard to last any longer. The boat rocked, swaying in the water.

The cool wind made goosebumps appear on your skin, yet you've never felt hotter. The slams of your hips became harder as you chased your release. "M'so close.. I- Fuck, I need you to come inside of me, please, Leon.." you whimpered against his lips, making a deep groan erupt from his chest. "Me too, sweetheart.. k-keep going.." he sighed, trailing a hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves.

You gasped at the contact of his calloused fingers on your sensitive clit. You desperately moved your hips faster. Feeling that familiar sensation form in your stomach you grasped onto Leon tighter, afraid he might vanish. A shivering feeling crawled up your spine, every nerve in your body tingling. You came with his name on your lips, the way your cunt tightend around him made him spill inside of you with a slurry cry of your name.

You could feel his hot cum painting your velvety insides, dripping down your thighs onto his, mixing with your own slick. He twitched inside of you, making you let out a little surprised moan. Both of you were panting messes, flushed skin and droplets of sweat dripping down your bodies. "Oh, okay, wow, um.. we actually fucked on the boat.." you said wide-eyed. Leon chuckled, caressing your waist.

"Um, yeah we did. Real glad it didn't tip over.." he muttered. You laughed, your smile lighting up this grey day. You sighed, laying your head on his shoulder. "Can we stay like this for a while?" You mumbled into his shoulder. Leon had a soft smile on his face. "Yeah, we can," he whispered back, draping his jacket over you.

"I need you in my life." He said, rubbing his hand up and down your back. you've been aching to hear those words for years now. "I need you too, blondie,"

He smiled at the nickname you'd given him years prior. "If you almost die on me again, I will kick your ass, got it?" You said sternly. "Yes, Ma'am." He answered with a sigh, closing his eyes and just enjoying the feeling of you in his lap. Truthfully, he never wanted to let you go ever again. He placed sweet kisses on the exposed skin he could reach.

"You should probably come up with an excuse why it took you so long to get Ashley," you mumbled, feeling sleepy. You just felt so safe, you couldn't help but get drowsy.

"Oh shit."

He had completely forgotten about that.

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I hope you liked it, anon! Stay tuned for more Leon content~

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