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separatist-apologist · 2 years

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If I Bleed, You'll Be The Last To Know

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a quick kidnapping. Eris Vanserra is an expert at those.

When he sees her tied up in his bed, though...well. Eris redefines what kidnapping means to him.

Set two years before He's Going To Burn This House To The Ground

Read More: AO3

24k words

TW: Extremely dubious consent. Dead dove, do not eat, etc etc. Forced orgasm, anal sex, marriage, dog-parenthood, murder, the usual.

Eris exhaled a breath softly, running his gloved finger over an immaculate dresser. Tick tock, he thought with irritation. Eris hated to wait, especially when he’d spent so long planning something perfect. He was almost tempted to leave, to try another day when he heard the sound of the elevator doors ding to the apartment he stood in.

“Ugh!” came a feminine voice, punctuated by the sound of keys slammed against the counter. She was home. Eris smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest. Fuck, he’d been waiting for her all day. He could picture her, long legs kicking off expensive, high heeled shoes in the foyer before she padded to the kitchen.

Right on cue, the thunking of heavy shoes greeted him. Eris stayed where he was—waiting. The sound of the fridge opening was just like her. She’d pick around for something, forgetting she hadn't gone to the store again. She snapped it shut with another heavy sigh.

The sound of her nails clicking on her phone as she rifled through mail only heightened Eris’s excitement. Any moment and she’d come join him, would step into the same room where he’d been waiting. He wanted to see her.

Arina Novak was magnificent. Even Eris, a prince of the city, could admit that. She wasn’t like him. Vanserra wealth came from centuries of capitalism while hers came from some app her father developed twenty years earlier. Novak was practically a household name now—everyone had one of their smart devices. Everyone but his daughter, of course. Arina had an Alexa, not that she used it for anything but music. A waste, in his opinion.

The bedroom door pushed open and there she was. Beautiful, with her thick, buttery blonde hair. She’d left it in its natural state, the waves tumbling around her golden face. Piercing green eyes swept through the room, her hand still holding her phone. She flopped onto her large bed, wrinkling the perfect sage cover. Her black dress rode up over toned, slim thighs until Eris could practically see what was beneath.

“I’m canceling my date tonight,” she said to the ceiling, tossing her phone to one of the massive pillows. “I’m tired of these fucking men.”

Eris didn’t respond to that, though he hardly counted himself among those fucking men. They could always talk about it later. Eris was struck, besides, when she sat up and began unzipping her dress, revealing miles of bronzed skin. For a moment he forgot to speak entirely. She could have modeled. Why didn’t she? Why did she spend her days drinking and shopping and hanging out with the most vapid group of friends he’d ever witnessed?

Why was she planning a date at one am? Eris watched her pad across the room towards the bathroom, hands reaching behind her to unhook her bra. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, catching her by surprise as he stepped from the closet. Arina spun, eyes wide, just in time for Eris to press his rag against her face.

Mossy green eyes went wide. They reminded him of the forest house his father had built when he was a boy and the woods he’d once loved running through. Eris would take her there, he decided once she stopped fighting him. Arina gave in easily, opening her mouth to scream into the rag. No one heard her, not in her isolated little apartment. Not when the fabric and the leather muffled her voice.

Limp, Eris set her onto her bed and took his time picking out a nice, white dress that would look good on camera. He packed up a few things she might need—toiletries, make-up, underwear. He came across a particularly fascinating vibrator tucked up beneath her socks and tossed that in there, too, though he wasn’t sure what he meant to do with it.

Kidnapping the daughters and wives of the elite when their patriarchs refused to tithe to the Vanserra’s was the easiest way to make a couple million dollars. Daughters were easier than wives and Arina was easier than most. No boyfriend, no friends who checked in, no roommate. Her routine varied day to day but Eris could always count on her returning and returning alone.

Zipping her up in a dress nice enough for church, Eris always draped his jacket over her torso, slung the expensive purse over his shoulder, and hefted her body into his arms. She weighed nothing to him even as dead weight, her head lolled against his chest. Eyes closed as if she were asleep. If anyone looked at them—and he very much doubted they would—Eris merely looked like he carried his very drunk girlfriend to bed.

In a way, they weren’t wrong.

No one paid him any mind in the service elevator. Camera’s disabled for a glitchy moment allowed him to slip out the back and deposit the Novak heiress into his drunk before driving away. It took all of a minute, if that. The jump would be noticeable if Novak called the cops, of course…but only an idiot would risk his daughter's life like that.

Zipping through the emptied streets, Eris dialed the brother he liked the best.

“It��s one in the morning, Eris,” Lucien complained, groggy from sleep or alcohol. Eris couldn’t tell.

“I’m leaving the city for the weekend. Got Novak’s daughter.”

Lucien paused. “How much?”

“I asked him for two originally…so lets say ten, for my time and trouble,” Eris replied, earning a chuckle from Lucien. “I’m taking her to the Forest House. Keep your brothers from fucking up too much. I don’t want to have to come back to another fucking gang war.”

“Yeah, alright,” Lucien grumbled. “Putting off the inevitable with Nolan.”

“I’ll worry about him later. Right now, focus on a little easy cash and a weekend without me breathing down your neck.” Lucien was silent for a moment. “Let me know if you need anything.”Eris ended the call thinking the only thing he’d need Lucien for was a pair of broken knees or a little arson.

Hardly the methods necessary for one little hostage.

ARINA:

Arina woke to a pounding headache. “Oh, God,” she groaned, aware of a scratchy heat against her wrists. Opening her eyes, Arina realized two things right off the bat—both wrists were bound over her head and a camera was pointing directly at her.

“Oh good,” came a smooth, masculine voice. Arina twisted, noting she was wearing the dress she’d bought for the ten year anniversary of her mothers death. She hadn’t put it on, had meant to, had planned a whole day where she finally went to that gravestone and said goodbye.

He’d cut off the tags. She didn’t look at him as she marveled at that. It had taken an actual kidnapping to get her to wear that stupid fucking dress. Arina swore if she survived whatever happened next, she’d drive out to her mothers grave and say what she ought to have a decade before.

He crouched at the end of the bed, this man she didn’t know. Her first stupid thought was how handsome he was. Fair skinned and chiseled in a classic sort of way, he looked like he wouldn’t be out of place in a fairytale with the slope of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his jaw. Full lips and amber eyes cut nicely with his auburn hair pushed off his face as if he’d caught the perfect wind.

He wore an expensive suit. She could spot that a mile away. Nice cologne, a fancy hair cut, designer watch. The man oozed wealth without being flashy about it. He had style. It was hard to find that, she thought.

“Why am I here?” Arina asked, willing herself to remain calm. No mask, no attempt to conceal his identity. She didn’t know who he was, though she’d seen enough crime shows to know he’d probably kill her when this was all over.

“You and I are going to make a little movie.”

Her blood ran cold. He ran a finger over her cheek, tilting her chin towards the camera at the end of the bed. “You’re going to put on your saddest expression and beg daddy to rescue you and then I’m going to tell him I’ll kill you if he doesn’t.”

Arina’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re holding me for ransom?”

“Not your first rodeo?” he guessed, rising to his feet. Tall. Muscular. Deadly. How did she convince this man to let her go? Arina would have to be careful.

“Are you asking if I get kidnapped often?” she scoffed, catching the way his lips quirked upwards.

“I only want to live up to your expectations,” he all but teased, fiddling with his camera. He tilted it a little, moving to the side to look at her before he looked back at his screen.

“This is my first,” she told him breathlessly. “Is it yours?”

He chuckled darkly. “Hardly. Let me tell you how this usually goes. You cry and scream and beg, I send your daddy the video, he pays the money and then I let you go.”

She swallowed. “And…and if he doesn’t send the money?”

The man frowned. “No man wants his daughter tied up with the likes of me. He’ll send the money.”

Arina didn’t bother to correct him. Everyone assumed her father paid for her life, that it was his money that enabled her to bounce around aimlessly. They didn’t know it was an inheritance from her mothers parents, safely tucked away until Arina turned eighteen. It was more money than she could have spent in a lifetime though Lord knew she was trying.

Her father had never given her a cent and he never would.

“Likes of you? Who are you?” she murmured instead.

“Eris Vanserra,” he replied easily. As if it didn’t matter. The name clanged through her because Arina recognized, vaguely, the Vanserra name. It was everywhere. Prince of the city, Eris had all but inherited his fathers throne. A lawyer awash in cash, who had his fingers in every little pot. The fucking baseball stadium was named after his family. Arina almost laughed.

“Mafia?”

“Smart,” Eris praised and Arina, filled with dread, ignored the little kernel of pleasure that settled in her gut. No one had ever said that about her and Eris Vanserra, with his expensive education, had thrown it out like it was nothing. “Are you going to cry for me?”

“No.”

He clicked his teeth. “I could make you cry,” he murmured, reaching behind his back. Arina watched with too much fascination at the gun held in his broad hand. That certainly scared her, made worse by the easy smile on his face. Eris prowled toward the side of the bed, sitting on the edge while Arina tried to scoot away.

It was to no avail. Eris reached for her, dragging her towards him. “Maybe I wasn’t clear about our weekend together, sweetheart. You’re going to cry and beg and plead. If I have to torment it out of you, well…” a cruel smile graced his elegant features. “I’ll bet you break easier than a lot of others. I can make a grown man cry in an hour.”

He traced the barrel of the gun over her lips.

“Dig deep, deep down for a little fear before I start getting the wrong idea about what’s happening between us.”

“Nothing is happening between us,” she informed him in her haughtiest voice. Men hated when she talked to them like that, like they were beneath her. Maybe it was wrong to tempt the man holding a gun against her face, but she wanted him to know she thought he was nothing.

Eris chuckled. “I’ll bet that gets all your little boyfriends so hot and bothered,” he murmured, setting the gun in his lap. “I’ll bet they run off, tails between their legs before they take themselves in their hands and wonder what it would be like to please you.”

His hand ran down her torso, still clad in that white dress. He wasn’t touching anything and yet the suggestion of where that hand was going made her press her lips together. Arina clamped her legs tightly and Eris, still amused, hopped to the edge of the mattress with ease before wrenching them open.

“You’re tied up in my bed, sunshine. I can do whatever I like with you. And I’m starting to think, given those fuck me eyes you keep raking up and down my body, that you might like if I put my mouth against your pussy.”

Tears rose against her throat unbidden, her body trembling beneath the bruising touch of his fingers. Eris was watching her carefully the way a child might stare at a bug trapped in a glass. He was trying to scare her and part of her wanted to call his bluff, to see if he was truly so terrible he’d force himself on her.

The other didn’t dare. Not when the casual confidence with which he moved suggested he would do every filthy thing he said he would. Arina swallowed.

“Are you going to cry?” Eris all but taunted. He didn’t understand how much she hated her father. He could have come to her a day before and asked her for help and Arina would have agreed.

She knew, even as a tear slipped down her cheek, that her father wasn’t going to do anything more but discard the video and hope Eris Vanserra finished what her father had begun years before.

She squeezed her eyes shut, drawing up the memories of a violent, miserable childhood. Of her mother, trying so hard to shield her only daughter and failing when she died. Arina’s body shook, not with fear, but fury. What was Eris Vanserra but a pale imitation of the man who’d loved to pull off his belt when he came home from work, if only to watch his wife and daughter scattered across that little house?

“There it is,” Eris murmured, releasing his grip on her thighs. “What a pretty girl. Will you look at the camera, Arina?”

She opened her eyes and Eris frowned at whatever it was he saw looking back at him.

“Ready?” he murmured, counting to three above the camera with his fingers.

Arina began to scream.

ERIS:

Eris wasn’t used to waiting. Knee bouncing, he stared at the burner phone with his demands. Twelve hours. That’s how long Arina had been tied up in his bed. She’d done a good job of looking angry, certainly. She hadn’t pleaded so much as she’d writhed and screamed and cried, which Eris decided was good enough. If she couldn’t fake the doe eyes, what did Eris care? So long as she looked scared.

Eris frowned. He knew the number was right, knew Novak had to have seen it by now. It was typically enough to spurn men into action. His brothers had a reputation for cruelty, an appetite for blood and of the seven of them, Eris was the worst. No one wanted to see their sister, their wife, their daughter tied up and left to his mercy.

Eris had no mercy. Only an unrelenting desire to consume.

Maybe Novak needed a little motivation. Maybe seeing what Eris was willing to do would end whatever hesitation he had, would make ten million seem a small price if it meant his daughter wasn’t violated any worse than what Eris had planned.

He climbed back up the steps, jogging quickly, phone slipped into his pocket. He’d turned up the volume just in case, pausing only in a hall closet for rope. Arina was waiting when he pushed open the door with his shoe, eyes devoid of tears. No begging—not yet, anyway. He didn’t like the way she looked at him.

“Are you letting me go?” she whispered, her tone very much implying she knew he wouldn’t be.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Eris asked instead, tossing the rope to the bed beside her. He walked back to his camera, fiddling with the angle. She had a face for film he thought almost ruefully. A body, too, though not the sort of film he’d originally been thinking of. Arina was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever had in his bed, willing or otherwise. Eris didn’t let himself dwell too much on that fact or he’d lose his careful control.

“Yes,” she murmured, bringing him back to reality. Eris went to her, unknotting the ropes holding her to the wooden headboard with efficient fingers. Arina immediately smashed the palm of her hand against his face when she was free.

He exhaled. No one had ever done that before. Blinking with surprise as he stumbled back, Eris noted blood trickling from the force of the blow. It took him a moment to realize she’d scrambled for the door, was running to the hall. He whirled, catching her easily against the floral runner beneath her bare feet and dragging her too roughly to the ground.

“Fucking mistake, sunshine,” he snarled, gripping her by the throat.

“He didn’t respond, did he?” she gasped, slapping at his face again. “He’s not going to respond—”

“Shut. Up.” Eris ordered, getting a hold of her flailing body and hauling her up against his shoulder. Her foot nearly caught him in the jaw before Eris had enough. “If you touch me like that

again, I’ll put a bullet in your knee. Do you understand me?”

She went limp against him and fuck Eris wondered why that disappointed him. He walked her back inside, ignoring his rumpled ivory blanket that had once been tucked so neatly into the mattress. Eris dumped her in the adjoining bathroom, letting her body hit the dark tile roughly. She gasped.

“Go to the bathroom,” he ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now I have to fucking watch.”

“I’ll bet you get off on it,” she hissed, pushing herself up to her feet. Eris didn’t smile.

“Thinking about my cock?”

“I doubt there’s much to think about,” she shot back, the witty little thing. Eris averted his eyes when she lowered herself to use the bathroom, a smile on his face. Kidnapping was so rarely fun—everyone cried and pleaded and begged. She merely seemed inconvenienced and some small part of him was disappointed that in a few moments, she’d beg him to let her go, too.

“You’ll find out,” he all but crooned when she was finished. He let her wash her hands and splash a little water on her face before shoving her back towards the bed.

“Take that off,” he demanded, facing her down. The top of her head rose to his chin and yet the way she stared, she might have been eye level. Fear flashed over her features

“No.”

Eris sighed, bunching the neckline of her dress in his hands. He’d merely rip it off her, then. Arina’s eyes went wide, hands flying to his wrists. “Wait, no, stop, I’ll take it off!” she cried. Eris immediately released, strangely fascinated by the feel of her fingers on his skin. She should have been too afraid to touch him. He was used to wincing, to trembling fear.

“Don’t want to ruin your expensive dress?” he taunted, more angry at himself than he was with her. She didn’t answer him, arm reaching around to tug at the zipper. Eris knew what lay beneath, given he’d put her in the outfit to start. He’d meant to evoke a feeling of innocence, of purity that he might wreck if her father didn’t move quickly. Now the fabric was pooled at her feet, revealing her perfect, golden body clad only in that lacy black thong and matching bra.

For her date, he reminded himself. Why did it bother him to see her all packaged up for another man's cock? He had no intention of going anywhere near her. This was just for cash–Eris wanted to go back home.

“Take the rest of it off,” he murmured, ignoring the way he was thickening in his pants. She wasn’t aware, at any rate. Arina’s hands trembled, unclasping the bra in the front. Those big, green eyes never left his face and though he could all but smell her fear, she didn’t cry. It was starting to unnerve him. Everyone cried. The only people who could stare him down were the ones too used to torture and Eris didn’t know if he liked the implication that the woman in front of him had faced far worse than him.

There was nothing worse than him. He’d ensured that when he’d killed his father.

“Get in the bed,” he ordered once she was naked, trying so hard not to look at the pretty tits within grasping distance. She turned, a mistake given how much Eris liked a nice, round ass. Hers was out of every wild, desperate daydream he’d ever had. Emptied of all other thoughts, Eris stared at the sway of her hips and the soft bounce of her cheeks. Fuck, he wanted to bury himself between them.

She laid on the bed, swallowing hard. Prepared. He wasn’t going to touch her. This would be enough, he told himself as he began methodically retying the rope. “How much did you ask him for?” Arina murmured, watching as he hovered over her, binding her wrists back to the headboard.

“Ten million,” Eris replied, eyes sliding not to her face but her perky tits. Arina laughed mirthlessly, making them jiggle. His cock was paying too much attention, aching against his pants to be freed. Eris swallowed hard. He’d never reacted like this before and it made him want to punish her for it.

“Good luck,” she told him, her whole body going stiff when he reached for her thigh to tie her like a frog. Legs spread, ankles bound, there would be no escaping what was coming next.

“Not enough?” he questioned absently, trying and failing not to stare at her bared cunt. It seemed wrong that one woman could be so effortlessly flawless, that every inch of her could be so utterly appealing. Pussy was pussy, he told himself and yet when had he ever seen one half as gorgeous as hers? Waxed and pink and radiating the sort of heat that when he went to secure her ankles, he could feel it against his skin. He bet she was tight, bet she was wet.

“Too much,” Arina interrupted his thoughts again. That surprised Eris. His eyes flicked to her face, wondering if she was trying to protect her father.

“Money trouble?” Eris had poked through his financials. Ten million was nothing to a man like Novak.

Arina only shrugged, sending a wave of discomfort through him. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I was in your apartment. Seems you know very well,” Eris sneered as he tied her other leg. It would have been so easy to fuck her like this, his cock all but begged. She might even like it if he worked her up, if he put his face between her legs and licked and sucked until she made a mess of him. He couldn’t help running his hand over her bare thigh, thumb rubbing the seam between her leg and pussy. She wiggled, trying to escape his touch.

“Calm down,” he grumbled when she didn’t respond. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

“What are you doing?” she panted once she was totally secure, tugging against the ropes that held her hands. Eris turned towards his sleek dresser and the bag he’d brought from her place. He knew she recognized it. It was almost funny, the way her eyes snagged on that white vibrating wand and the little remote in his hand.

“This is a warning to daddy,” he told her, pinning her still when she writhed desperately. “If he wants to ignore me, next time it’ll be me touching his pretty princess.”

“Eris,” she panted. “Eris, you don’t understand—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his cock jumping when his thumb brushed over her clit to nestle the vibrating head between her lips. Eris tied it carefully to her leg, trying so hard not to touch her again. His control was shredding, his grip on himself tenuous. He needed to get away from her, to breathe a little fresh air, stare at his computer screen, and remind himself there was no shortage of beautiful women in the world.

“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded once he had her vibrator secured to her leg. Tears were pooling in her eyes as she tracked him, spilling when she saw him go back to that camera. “Don’t let him see me like this, Eris—”

He almost apologized. “Beg really pretty for me, Arina,” he murmured, turning the vibrator on with the remote in his hand. She began crying in earnest then, writhing to try and escape what was pinned to her body. Eris didn’t move, ignoring the way she twisted against her bonds. He was too fascinated by the way her cunt gaped and suck at nothing, desperate for friction.

“Eris, stop this–”

“Beg, Arina,” he ordered breathlessly. She was going to come. He had to see, just once, had to just know what she looked like. Her skin was flushed, nipples pebbled and pointed at the ceiling.

Arina’s hands bunched to fists as she tugged overhead and twisted her hips, desperate to escape.

“Please,” she panted, looking right at him. Her eyes were so fucking dark and sexy. “Please, Eris—”

Her whole body arched and Eris nearly came in his pants at the sight. She screamed furiously, shaking her head back and forth. Her cunt glistened with slick proof of release. He wanted to touch, wanted to taste.

Eris turned on his heel, snapping the door shut so he could breath freely. Head against the wood, he waited for her to plead with her father. It was live—he could see the whole thing just as soon as he opened his phone.

“Eris!” Arina screamed, causing his cock to throb in his pants. “Eris come back!”

No one had ever begged him. He groaned, pushing off the wall to leave.

He’d come back later.

ARINA:

She hated him. Even when he disabled that vibrator from somewhere in the house, Arina’s whole body ached. Coated in a sheen of sweat, her thighs sticky, her pussy chafed raw, Arina hated her father. She hated knowing he likely enjoyed knowing that Eris was hurting her, that Eris would solve his problem for him. Arina was so wrung out she didn’t even notice Eris had come back until she felt the back of his hand against her face.

“Drink,” he ordered, holding her neck so she didn’t choke. Arina did as she was told, gulping down the coldest water she’d ever had in her life. She was too grateful to Eris in that moment though she knew she shouldn’t be. Arina didn’t have the ability to hate him and her father. Beyond that, she believed him when he’d said he would have let her go untouched had her father responded.

“Will you untie me?” she pleaded, tugging on the ropes. Eyes open, she saw that curiosity back on his face.

“Why?”

She’d forgotten she’d punched him. That felt like a lifetime ago. She was far too exhausted to do anything but look up at him. He’d shed himself of his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt down his neck, and rolled the sleeves of his crisp shirt to his elbows. He looked so normal, like a man she might find in the finance district.

She didn’t flinch when he walked between her legs, running a finger over her still slick thighs. She did watch him lift his hand to his mouth and taste which filled her with a different kind of fear.

“He didn’t say anything, did he?”

Fury flashed across Eris’s well-controlled features. “No.”

He began untying the vibrator from her legs without preamble, ignoring her spread open body, at least for the moment. It was all so humiliating, to be tied this way, to know her father had witnessed the whole thing. Arina swallowed thickly as Eris asked, “Tell me right now if he’s planning a rescue.”

She shook her head back and forth, unable to look at Eris. “He’s not going to give you any money, either.”

Eris sat between her thighs, staring at her aching pussy with an unreadable expression. “Why not?”

“Ten million is a lot of money,” she whispered, not bothering to add that it was too much money to spend on a daughter you’d never liked.

“I’d pay it,” he said, surprising her. “If it were my daughter.” He reached for the tie around her ankle. “I’ll be in this bed with you tonight. If you try anything, there are worse ways to be bound. More painful things I can spend the day doing to you while your father watches. Do you understand me, Arina?”

She still remembered the gun. She nodded thickly. Eris stared for a beat and then began the silent work of unbinding her. She could only watch his long, nimble fingers work. How had he learned this? How many people had he kidnapped before? There was an art to it all, she supposed, though she didn’t dare ask him how else he could tie her. She didn’t want to put ideas in his head. Instad, Arina waited until her wrists were undone, rubbing them softly as she sat up, to ask, “What happens when he doesn’t send you the money?”

Eris was close enough she could have touched his face. “They always send the money.”

She cleared her throat, trying to pretend that didn’t terrify her. “What will you do when he doesn’t?”

Eris reached over for a lock of her hair. Too quick, she realized he had a knife in his hand. She reared back, tumbling to the floor, forehead colliding with the corner of the side table, likely leaving a bruise. Eris towered over her, confusion and irritation etched against his face. Crouching, he showed her the lock of hair he’d cut.

“Maybe I’ll send him your hand,” he murmured, head cocked as he watched. “I’m not a babysitter, you know.”

Trembling, Arina whispered, “Let me pay it.”

He stilled, clutching that piece of blonde hair in his palm. “Excuse me?”

“Let me pay it,” she pleaded. It would wipe out the majority of the money her grandparents had left her, tucked away in trusts that had been yielding interest since the day she’d been born.

Reminding herself that she’d never wanted it, Arina forced herself to scoot a little closer. “I’ll send it to you tonight if you have my phone.”

Eris scowled. “You don’t understand the point of the ransom, sunshine. Your father needs to learn how to bend his knee in deference.”

“Let me do it instead,” she murmured, holding his gaze but Eris shook his head, his upper lip curling in disgust.

“I don’t want your fucking money, Arina.”

“Why not?” she all but screamed when he stood. Arina, too, was quick on her feet, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table and hurtling it at him. Eris just very narrowly missed, eyes wide when it shattered against the wall.

“You’re going to regret that,” he whispered.

“I hate you!” she screamed, slipping past him for the hall just like before. Eris lunged but Arina was fast, had spent her whole life dancing. This time he didn’t catch her until they hit the stairs.

Her fingers plunged into his hair, ripping violently, and when she went tumbling down, he came right with her. He grunted, elbow catching her in the stomach while Arina reached between his legs and twisted with a ruthless sort of violence.

“Fuck!” he yelled while she scrambled to her feet, his immaculate hair falling into his furious eyes. He was going to kill her. She could see it on his face. Truly there was nowhere to go even as she scrambled down the second landing and into the hall that would take her outside. She passed a dark kitchen and a strangely normal looking living room before Eris caught her, slamming her face into the front door so hard her teeth rattled.

“Go ahead,” he panted against the back of her neck. “Open it.”

He had both wrists in one hand pinned behind her, twisting so rough she cried out even as she tried to push him off. “Open the door, Arina. I’ll let you leave.”

“You won’t,” she screamed furiously, struggling against his punishing hold. “You’re a liar.”

“I would let you go to watch you walk back to the city naked,” he breathed, pushing closer. “How far do you think you’d get, with this body? How far before someone realizes what a fuckable mouth you have? Ten feet? Half a mile? I’ll bet even the animals could smell that wet cunt.”

“Stop it,” she whispered, cheek pressed to the wood. “Let me go.”

“If you’d gotten into my bed and gone to sleep like my good little girl, I might have,” Eris told her, grinding his pelvis against her bare ass. He was erect. She could feel the hardness of his cock against her, sliding beneath her butt cheek. Long, she thought with no small amount of horror. “Now that I know you want to touch my dick, though…I think I’ll put you on a little leash and keep you at my feet.”

“Eris!”

“Oh, you haven’t earned the right to call me Eris,” he replied, his other hand wrapping around her neck. Squeezing softly, he continued, “You know what I think?”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you think,” Arina replied.

“I think you weren’t properly punished by your own father–”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she breathed.

“And until he shows up, you can call me sir,” he replied, his amusement evident in his voice.

“You’re disgusting,” she told him, ignoring the way he was rubbing himself against her.

“You’re disgusting, sir,” Eris replied, fingers pressed into her windpipe. “Say it, or you’re going to be punished.”

Arina would take her chances. She’d survived the vibrator, after all. She’d survived a lifetime of her actual father. Whatever Eris was thinking was likely not half as terrible and so Arina, defiant and angry, said, “I’d rather choke, Eris.”

Eris removed his hand from her neck to fist it in her hair. Turning her to face him, she found not hatred looking at her, but open lust. “Pathetic,” she whispered. The taunt was well worth it, even when he slammed her to her knees.

“You want to choke? Open your fucking mouth,” he replied, holding her in place while his free hand went to his pants and the belt looped around his waist. She reared back when he yanked it off, terrified for a moment he was going to strike her with it. Eris merely let it drop, misunderstanding why she’d begun to struggle. There was nowhere to go, not when the door behind her and his muscular body was pinning her in place. Not when his hand was pulling so roughly against her scalp she could practically taste blood.

He freed the thing that had been rubbing against her and for a moment, Arina had nothing to say at all. It seemed strangely wrong for a man who had a face like Eris’s to also have a cock like that. Had they met under normal circumstances, had he pulled the long, thick length of him out, she might have fallen to her knees anyway.

He rubbed the bruising head against her lips. “Open your fucking mouth, Arina.”

She didn’t dare say a word, trying so hard to twist her face out of his grasp. Eris shoved her back, knocking her against the door. She gasped from the pain, tears snapping to the corners of her eyes just in time for Eris to thrust his hips forward, slamming his cock into her throat. He only made it halfway before he had to stop while she gagged loudly, hands flying to his thighs still clad in his pants. She beat her fists against him for all the good it did.

“No teeth,” he groaned when she closed her mouth to bite. “Just like that. Good girl.”

And fuck if her whole body didn’t warm at the praise. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t breathe when he pushed in again, holding himself in her throat so her nose was pressed against his abdomen. He didn’t seem to register her hands shoving at him, didn’t care how loudly she gasped and gagged. Each new thrust was rougher, deeper, the sounds of her body trying to reject the length of him punctuated by his own panting groans.

“You have a pretty mouth,” he praised. “A wet mouth.”

She opened her eyes, flicking them upwards. He was watching, his pupils so blown out they were practically colorless.

“Who knew you took cock so well?” he murmured, using the hand holding her hair to bob her over him. Her knees ached against the wood, her jaw sore from the stretch required to accommodate him. All Arina could focus on was sucking in a quick breath every time he pulled back.

“I could do this all night,” he told her, eyes holding her gaze. “Are you going to do what I ask? Or am I going to use your mouth like my own personal toy until it's time to go to work?”

She whined. She’d say anything to get him to finish. No blow job, consensual or otherwise, should last this long. Saliva was dripping from her mouth and down her neck, her eyes burning with tears she couldn’t stop. Eris withdrew until it was only the tip of his heavy, swollen cock resting on her tongue. He held himself in his hand, smearing precum over lips.

“Are you going to do what I tell you to?” he whispered, his body practically shaking with need. Arina winced. “Yes.”

“Yes…” he prompted. She couldn’t look at him.

“Yes, sir.”

He stroked himself once, and then again, splattering hot ropes of come all over her face without warning. He caught her directly in the face for the first spurt before pointing lower, covering her neck and then her breasts. He seemed an impossible amount for one man and Arina was grateful he hadn't made her swallow it.

“Good girl,” he whispered, hauling her to her feet. Her legs wobbled as if she’d been stabbed by a million pins. Eris used one hand to hold her arm, the other to shove himself back in his pants. “Now. Lets clean you up. You’re disgusting.”

She could only stare, open mouthed.

She knew he understood what she hadn’t said out loud, if his cruel amusement was any indication.

Fuck you, Eris.

ERIS:

Eris scrubbed a hand over his face, propped against the headboard as the sun began to rise. He had his laptop resting on his thigh, already logged in to get some actual work done. Beside him, Arina was curled on her side, her thick hair half hiding her beautiful face. Eris couldn’t resist pushing it from her cheek, if only to look at her still swollen pink lips. He’d lost control of himself last night though he didn’t have it in him to regret it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard.

He wanted more. Eris was both furious and relieved when he found no response from her father. What kind of man let the likes of Eris Vanserra put his blood soaked hands all over his perfect daughter? Eris was well aware Arina deserved a lot better than being throat fucked in the foyer of his fathers former home. Had she been his, he would have made the entire city suffer.

He glanced at his phone. Lucien, grumpy from being woken so early, had texted back.

He just got to work. Want me to cut the breaks?

Eris stroked his finger over Arina’s soft cheek again. She was still out, exhausted from being subjected to his whims. He planned to be a little softer today, had caught the way she looked at him every time he praised her. Some sick, stupid part of him wondered if he couldn’t condition her to seek his approval simply by telling her she’d made him happy.

Yes.

Fuck Novak for deciding to wait him out. Eris knew when Novak arrived, he’d find a package on his desk courtesy of Tanwen. A dress stolen from her closet, soaked in blood and torn apart. If that didn’t scare him, Eris didn’t think anything would.

He wasn’t used to holding a hostage for so long. Eris sent a request to Conall for food, both for himself and for Arina, who hadn’t eaten since he’d brought her here. He’d need to let her bathe, would have to figure out what to do with her while he waited on her father. She didn’t wake when he left to collect it or when he brought up juice and a tray of food, unsure what she liked to eat. She slept through a heated call between Eris and a client, blissfully unaware of the veiled threats he made as he paced through the room.

The only thing that woke Arina was Eris turning the vibrator back on. Leaning against the dresser, wand in hand, he flipped the on switch and watched how she jerked upwards. Blonde hair spilled against her breasts, those wide, green eyes filled with alarm.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he murmured. “I was starting to think you were dead.”

“Put that away,” she whispered, legs clamped firm. Eris frowned.

“After last night, I think I owe you.”

She shook her head. “No…no, Eris–”

“What did I say about my name?” he snapped. It was a practical concern. Every time his name spilled from her lips, Eris had to fight his cocks urge to fuck her perfect ass. Defiance flashed over her features.

“I’m not calling you sir.”

“Then you better not call me anything at all,” Eris retorted, turning the vibrator off. “Eat something. I need to go into the city today and I don’t want to be thinking about you.”

She looked up at him, hands on her thighs. “Am I coming with you?”

Eris frowned. He’d intended to lock her in the bathroom. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I don’t want to be here alone,” she replied, as if that were the same.

“You’d risk sitting beneath my desk all day just to avoid being here all alone?” Eris questioned. Her fingers curled around her neck, eyes glassy and he knew she was thinking about how he used her the night before. He wanted to again.

“I might decide to use you as a cockwarmer. Have you thought of that?”

No. She winced. Instead, Arina crept closer, tits hanging between her arms. “Has he responded?”

Eris couldn’t hide his hatred. “No.”

“He’s not going to,” she told him. “He’s going to let you kill me.”

Eris decided to breeze right past that little declaration in favor of getting something he wanted. “A trade, sunshine?”

Her wariness was warranted. “I’ll take you into the city with me,” where he absolutely intended to use her mouth again, not that she needed to know that, “If you arch that ass of yours in the air and don’t move it until I tell you to.”

He was still holding the vibrator in his hand and from the way she stared, Eris would have thought he held a gun. She was weighing her options and God he hoped she did it. He had a bottle of lube in the drawer just behind him. He meant to fuck her stupid, take her to his office, and fuck her stupid again. If Novak wasn’t going to get his daughter, why shouldn’t Eris get to keep her, at least for now?

“Will you let me go?” she asked. Testing.

“No.” Eris hadn’t gotten what he wanted, after all. It wasn’t about money, not that Arina understood. It was power. The power to bend the city to his will, to remind even men like Novak what would happen if they crossed him. Novak would find out soon enough if he wasn’t panicking about his daughter. Absently, Eris pulled his phone from his pants. Only work. No Novak.

“So I do this and you just take me with you?” she questioned, lips pulling in a frown.

He shrugged, deciding he’d scare her a little into accepting. “Better than being chained up all day in the basement, right?”

Her face paled. Something about being alone bothered her. Eris could untangle that later. For now, all he needed was the barest hint of her compliance. He didn’t want to fight her again, didn’t want to waste the time it would take to spread her out and prop her up. The fun was watching her try, even if she failed. Arina’s eyes darted to the camera.

“Are you going to film it?”

“Do you want me to?” he replied casually, though this was between them. He wanted Novak to think his daughter was miserable with him, and though Eris fully intended to use her like a doll, he didn’t think there would be a terrible amount of suffering when she took his cock. After all, Arina only cried when he left her or she realized her father might see her break down. Everything else was met with a taunt, a teasing smile. A I’m better than you sort of look that made his balls heavy.

“No.”

“Alright. No camera then. Are you going to bend over for me like a good little girl, or do you just want to watch me leak cum in my pants all day?”

Her eyes slid to the bulge. She took a gulping breath. “I hate you for this.”

“I don’t care if you like me,” Eris replied, swallowing his own groan when she turned over. He went to her, ignoring her upturned ass, to grab her bruised, chafed wraps. “Hold the mattress.”

Arms spread, Eris watched her grip either edge as best she could. Centered right in the middle, her fingers just grasped the edge, bunching the black bed sheets beneath.

She had her thighs clamped together. Eris spread them wide, letting his hand slip between. She wasn’t wet like he’d hoped but that heat from before was enough to make him want. To remind him of the vibrator behind him and how he could pull gleaming slick from her cunt whether she wanted it or not.

“If you move, I’ll punish you,” Eris murmured, undoing his pants quietly. This was, in all truth, a waste of his time. He should have dumped her in the bathroom behind him, locked the door, and left for the day. Should have let her give him the money before calling the whole thing quits. “If you try and push me off you, I’ll punish you. If you do anything I don’t like, I’ll punish you. Do you understand?”

“How will I know if you don’t like something?” she asked, looking over her shoulder and fuck, Eris’s cock jumped in his hand, precum beading the tip. She was so effortlessly sexy, a woman he might have designed in a lab if that sort of thing had ever been possible. Eris couldn’t help himself, kneading her soft flesh in his hands. Eris marveled at how his palm spanned her entire cheek.

Perfect fit.

He’d thought the same thing the night before when he’d been fucking her throat.

Eris didn’t warn her, slapping her skin hard enough he could see the print etched in flesh. “That’s how you’ll know,” he told her, watching the way her whole body jumped.

Using the last vestiges of his willpower, Eris went back for the vibrator and the lube. Arina was still watching over her shoulder, blonde hair splayed against her back. “You’re not going to take off your shirt?”

Eris opened his mouth to taunt her, not daring to say the real reason, when his own eyes snagged over something dragging against her lower back. A long, vicious cut made white with time, scarred over otherwise perfect flesh. She’d been on her back for the last three days. How would he have known? She didn’t realize he’d seen it and he wondered what she’d do if she saw he had a matching set against his own? Eris tossed his items to the mattress and began unbuttoning his shirt, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to stop. She couldn’t see his back but Eris knew, just like he knew how he’d gotten them.

Was Novak not coming because he didn’t care if his daughter lived or died?

Eris shoved that thought to the side. He’d deal with it later, when it mattered. Right now, Arina had her perfect ass in the air, was clutching his bed, and as far as he could tell, had some curiosity about his body. Running a hand down his toned torso, he asked, “Like what you see?”

“Just get this over with,” she gritted, burying her face in the sheets.

“You always know the right things to say,” Eris murmured, reaching for the vibrator and turning it to the highest setting. Her body went rigid and all was right in the world again.

“Did I traumatize you yesterday?” he crooned, running the vibrating head over the curve of her ass. “How many times did you come before you begged me to stop?”

“Once,” Arina was quick to reply. Eris was glad she couldn’t see how rueful he felt. He’d walked right into that one. Spreading apart her pretty ass cheeks, Eris pressed the vibrator against the puckered whole his cock was about to invade. He was so fucking aroused he could barely see straight and when her hand jerked, reaching back to swat at him, Eris got to spank her hard.

“Do you want to come to work with me or not?” he growled. “Put your fucking hand back.”

She whimpered and yet still did what she was told, arm trembling as she gripped. “Good girl,” he praised, noting the way her hips seemed to arch involuntarily. Fuck, had anyone ever said one nice word to this woman? Still running the vibrator over her ass, Eris decided to test his hypothesis.

“Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are?”

She went stiff again. Yes.

He moved the vibrator lower, letting it tease the opening of her pussy. Arina was so tightly held he thought she might shatter, her hips practically shaking with fear. She didn’t like being told she was pretty, Eris supposed that was fair. It was obvious—the first time he’d really seen her, he’d thought she ought to model. Surely he wasn’t the only one.

Coating his cock in lube, erection twitching, Eris wondered what was wrong with him? He’d been fucking womn since he was a teenager and had never cared if they liked him, let alone if they felt special. This was worse—Arina was his captive and at some point, he wanted to let her go. Would let her go.

Eris pressed the vibrator against her clit and pushed the blunt head of his cock into her ass. Arina gasped, hand reaching out only to reach for the bed again. “Smart girl,” he growled, fingers digging into her flesh. Arina moaned, a wrenched sound he thought he’d all but dragged out of her. There it was, the thing no one thought about her that she desperately wanted to be praised for. She could be his smart girl. His best girl.

“I changed my mind,” she panted when he pushed another inch into her. “Stop, Eris, I’ll stay–”

“You’ll take it,” he gritted out, already so fucking aroused he thought he might die. She was so fucking tight and hot and with the lube she felt perfect. The sight of her ass eating him up inch by inch was waking something primal in him.

He could feel the vibrations from the vibrator dully through the skin of her clenched ass. Eris pushed further, earning a soft scream muffled by the blanket. Having breached his way in, no amount of tightening could keep him out. God himself couldn’t have stopped Eris and when Arina wiggled her hips to try and shove him back, Eris decided it was best to just get the whole thing over with at once.

He slammed himself the rest of the way in, groaning while she screamed. A fluttering, pulsating feeling told Eris that, despite her desperate pain, Arina had come. “You like that?” he panted, pressing the vibrator harder to her clit.

“Stop,” she moaned, earning spank after spank after spank for the way she moved. “It hurts.”

“Relax,” he demanded, kneading her hot, reddened flesh. “Stop fighting me.”

She exhaled a breathy sob when he withdrew, pushing back in. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised, swallowing hard. He could already feel release building and he’d barely even begun. “Are you going to come again?”

“I don’t want to,” she cried, face still hidden in the sheets. Eris began to pump slowly, grabbing the lube beside him without moving the vibrator an inch from her pussy. He coated the skin of his cock in it, pulling himself nearly all the way from her body. The next slide felt less tense, was smoother, easier.

“That’s it,” he praised. “My smart girl. Open yourself up. Enjoy it.”

And fuck if she didn’t, at least a little. He thought some small part of her wanted to obey, to give in and let him take over. Her hips rocked from the force with which he’d begun thrusting, chasing the absurd, delicious high that was her body. If her ass felt this good, had him this undone, what the fuck was it going to be like buried in her pretty, wet pussy? When he didn’t need to lubricate himself because proof of her want was sticky and hot against the aching skin of his cock?

Arina tightened almost painfully around him again, holding him for a moment, sucking so deep he couldn’t contain the guttural groan that slipped from his chest. Her legs shook as she came again, pinned by his hands and hips so she couldn’t move.

“Eris,” she panted and fuck he was going to come. “Eris please, stop—”

“Come again,” he demanded. He was greedy. He wanted to see her exhausted and sweaty like before, wanted her to pass out in the car from all the orgasms he gave.

Her scream could have shook the very foundation of the house. Eris chased after it, pumping viciously into her. “Again,” he ordered, pressing the vibrator so hard against her, nestling the want between her perfect lips that she barely got a chance to breathe before she was convulsing around him. He’d lost count. Was it three or was it four?

“Eris,” she sobbed and he didn’t even care she was using his name. He wanted to hear her say it. “Eris, please–”

She came again and he nearly did, too. He had to clench his ass to keep from unloading. Just a little longer. He needed her to take a little more. Arina was trembling, just barely holding the edge of the bed.

“Eris!” she screamed, her hands flying out. It was too much. He dropped the vibrator to catch her wrists, using them like a lever as he thrust himself into her, burying himself to the hilt like a mindless, rutting animal.

“Fuck!” he groaned, digging his fingers so sharply into her ass he was sure he’d left bruised. Release washed over him little a bomb had gone off, dragging him off some unknown precipice Stars burst through the blackness that stole over his vision while Eris poured more come than he even knew he had into her body. It was last night all over again and the endless spurting of fluid.

Arina collapsed to the mattress entirely, trembling violently, arms thrown over her head.

Eris withdrew regretfully, watching his come slide from her ass towards her pussy. Some small, sick part of him hoped something stuck.

“C’mon,” he grumbled, slapping her ass softly. “Take a shower so we can go.”

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “You weren’t lying?”

He would have been smarter if he had. Eris only shook his head. “Not lying. But you can’t walk into my office smelling like a cumwhore. Go wash yourself and we’ll go.”

Hatred streaked over her features, quick as lightning and then it was gone. He let her go to the bathroom by herself.

He didn’t want to think about what he’d do if he followed.

Eris was already too worried about what he was willing to risk to keep her.

ARINA:

Arina had expected to work out of a dungeon or a basement or some dirty warehouse down by the harbor. Not downtown in a seventy story building where he held the sixty-ninth floor. Eris had grinned when he pressed that button, every inch the demon who’d just fucked her in the ass despite his crisp suit and his perfect hair. He’d done that on purpose, then.

Elevator doors opened to a rich mahogany desk with the words Vanserra and Associates emblazoned on a plaque. A pretty, dark haired woman smiled at him like he was the nicest guy in the world. “I canceled your meetings,” she told him. “So you could show the intern around.”

“Wonderful,” Eris praised, his voice rich like honey. “This is Arina. Get her a name badge and a cubicle, will you?”

“Are you serious?” she hissed.

“You don’t think you could work for me?” Eris questioned, one brow raised. And fuck, she hadn’t meant for him to interpret her words that way…but looking around the sea of offices and cubicles and the women with their sleek hairdos and professional pumps…and she found she did think that.

“I don’t know anything about law,” Arina mumbled.

“Neither do a lot of people here,” he replied with a cheeky wink before he pulled open the door to his office.

“But you do?”

“Oh, sunshine, the law is my passion,” he said sarcastically, gesturing for her to sit anywhere she liked. His office was big, and filled with shelves of hardback books. There were old tomes on law and the theory of law but others were just really nice first editions of books she liked. Eris plopped into the black high-backed leather chair and immediately began fishing his computer out of his bag.

“You like to read?” he asked without looking at her. Framed by a window made of glass, Eris could have been the actual prince of the city. He certainly looked it, in that moment. Haughty, arrogant, and terribly spoiled, all coupled with his effortless good looks painted a rather appealing picture…not that she wanted to admit it.

“What, the spoiled socialite can’t read?” she sneered, feeling stupid all over again. Eris’s head snapped in her direction.

“When did I say that?” he demanded. “Do you like to read?”

“Yes,” she replied defensively, pulling his first edition of Robinson Crusoe from the shelf. It must have cost him a small fortune and she bet that was part of why he’d displayed it here. Eris turned back to his computer, leaving her to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk.

“Me too,” he murmured, fingers flying over the keys.

Arina had seen his back earlier that morning, after he’d finished fucking her like an animal. Vision blurred with her tears, she thought she’d imagined the faint scars running the length of his back. She had some just like them, the product of a belt against brand new flesh. She’d been too angry, too hurt to ask him what happened and now she was too emotionally raw.

Arina wanted to make a deal with Eris. Book in her lap, Arina opened her mouth to offer but Eris spun his laptop around for her, showing her a menu of food.

“My assistant wants to know if you want lunch. Pick something light,” he added. She waited for him to make some terrible comment about her weight or her body like everyone else did but Eris, she’d forgotten, was horrible in different ways. “I don’t want you to vomit in my lap when I fuck your throat beneath the desk.”

“I hate you,” she said, meeting his delighted gaze.

“You don’t,” he replied with satisfaction. “Soup, do you think?”

“Since you’re so bossy, I��ll let you decide,” she grumbled, tucking her legs beneath her white dress. It was the only one she had in her possession. Eris’s eyes darkened as he watched, a momentary reprieve

“Eris?”

“Mm?” he asked, eyes back on his computer.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

She had his full attention again. Lips curled into a cold, cruel smile. “Worried?”

She scoffed. “No.” Though her pounding heart told a different story. He was dangerous and she kept forgetting that because Arina could only handle one terrible man at a time. As long as her father drew breath, Arina would never truly see Eris for what he really was.

Eris reclined back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his chest. “Tell me what you’re thinking, sunshine.”

Sunshine. Why did he call her that?

“You want my fathers compliance, right?”

Eris watched her with hungry eyes.

“I could help. I would have helped, if you came to me in the beginning. I still could.”

Eris inclined his head for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line. “You want to help me rob your father?”

“No,” Arina shook her head. “I think we’re beyond that. He watched…he saw…” he saw that vibrator tied to her leg and did nothing. “I want to humiliate him, I want you take everything he has, and then I want you to kill him.”

Eris leaned forward, his interest evident on his features. “You want me to take all his money? Not you?”

Arina wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want any of it. Take it all, I don’t care.” She would have rather had nothing at all than to live off her fathers ill-gotten gains. Eris was watching her like he knew something she didn’t, had pieced some little thing together that Arina was missing.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” he replied, turning back to his computer. “Enjoy your book. Lunch is in an hour…” He was warning her about his cock, somehow still hard after what he’d done to her still aching ass.

She should have hated him.

She didn’t.

ERIS:

“Do you remember Father Roberts?” Eris asked Lucien. He was just outside the bathroom where he’d gone to splash water over his face after shoving Arina violently beneath his desk and forcing his cock into her throat. The more she struggled, the harder he came. He was figuring that out about himself. He wanted her with a near single-minded determination, which made his next question easy. “Get me his parish.”

“I’m not your fucking assistant.”

“Just do it. Did Novak get in his car?”

“Fender bender,” Lucien said gloomily. “Should have rigged it to go up in flame.”

“Forget fucking with his car, Lucien,” Eris snapped, irritated by his brothers love of arson. “I have a different plan to fuck Novak over.”

“It sounds stupid,” Lucien grumbled. “If you need a goddamn priest.”

“Just get me the parish. I’m tired of being locked up in this shitty house.”

“Okay, alright,” Lucien agreed before disconnecting the call. Eris turned back to his office. He needed to get out of here. Back inside, Arina was in her chair holding a five thousand dollar book between reverent hands. Her mouth was swollen pink, her cheeks bright red from where he’d slapped her.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” he complained, well aware it was obvious what had happened between them. Well, mostly obvious, at any rate. Arina had been too gagged to scream and from the burning hatred in her eyes when she turned to look at him, Eris thought she would have liked to have embarrassed him that way. She’d fight him on the way out. Time to lay one of his cards face up on the table.

“I’ve considered your offer. You want to help me?” he pressed, watching her carefully. Her hatred of him warred with her hatred of his father and Eris was too pleased when the hatred for Novak won out.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Wonderful. I have some ideas. Walk out of this office without screaming, and I’ll share them with you back at the house.”

“Can I take the book with me?”

She was so softly pathetic in that moment. It made his heart squeeze tightly in his aching chest. Was that all she wanted? A book? Eris nodded curtly, not wanting to give whatever the fuck he was feeling away. Not when he knew she’d be back to hating him by the end of the night. It wouldn’t matter, then.

Arina was compliant, clutching that book to her chest all the way through the building and into his car. Eris, who was starting to suspect he was deeply, deeply stupid, put his hand on her knee as he drove back out to that secluded house. Tomorrow he’d take her to his penthouse, assuming she agreed to his scheme.

Eris had cleared out his calendar for tomorrow under the assumption that Arina needed to make everything difficult. Not at that moment, though. Unaware of what he intended, Arina sat at the table and ate a meal with him, eyeing him suspiciously the entire time but mostly normal—at least for them.

“Are you going to tell me this plan of yours?” she asked when Eris marched her back up to the bedroom. He was beginning to suspect she was ruining him for all other women.

“Take off your dress.”

Arina huffed with exasperation. “I don’t want your dick again,” she complained.

“What makes you think I’d care if you didn’t?” Eris taunted. “Take off your fucking dress or I’ll destroy it. I want you tied up when I tell you this. I won’t have you hitting my face again.”

Arina ripped the dress off angrily, leaving the bra and panties on beneath. Eris raised a brow but when she stood defiant, it was with too much pleasure that he pulled them down for her. It gave him an excuse to run his finger against her hot cunt.

“Wet,” he murmured with surprise, pushing his finger into the opening. Arina shoved him back like he knew she would, still pissed about the blow job. She hit him in the face despite his best intentions, the ringing slap arousing him more than it enraged him. Arina was going to ruin him for all other women.

“You’re so fucking mean,” Eris praised, pushing her to the bed and straddling her chest with his hips while she writhed beneath him. “I’m starting to love it.”

“You’re disgusting!” Arina screamed while he bound her wrists over her head. She kicked him in the throat when he went to move her legs, solidifying Eris’s plan. There would only be one answer, then. One outcome. He opened her back up, spreading her thighs with the rope and tying her ankles to her knees so she looked like a frog again. Arina fought him viciously, well aware of what was coming for her.

“If you had just done what you were told,” Eris crooned once he was done. “I wouldn’t have to resort to such desperate measures.” He pushed two fingers back into her cunt just because he could, curling them upwards while she panted, those green eyes darkening. Whether it was hate or lust, Eris couldn’t say. He used his thumb to rub a little circle over her glistening clit. “You know what I realized? I haven’t had the pleasure of making you come.”

“And you never will,” she gritted out as he pumped lazily, noting the way she coated his skin.

“Oh, how wrong you are,” Eris murmured with delight, lowering his head for a taste. He swore it would be a quick thing and yet the minute his tongue replaced his fingers Eris was fucking wrecked. He gripped her thighs to keep her from twisting away.

“Eris–”

“Yes,” he groaned, grinding his raging erection into the mattress beneath him. He put his plan on pause so he could feast on her. He was lying to himself, tongue dragging up over her quivering, swollen clit, when he said this was merely a preamble to the torment for later, that he wanted her nice and lubricated for the vibrator.

But Eris just wanted to lick her. She’d had his cock in her mouth twice, now. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to return the favor? Arina was musky and sweet, like some sort of desert he’d only ever concocted in his imagination now made real.

“Eris, stop it,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Talk to me.”

“Come, first,” he demanded. She exhaled softly when his fingers invaded her body again, clenching so tight his entire life flashed before his eyes. His plan was suddenly spectacular, the smartest thing he’d ever conceived. He was dying to tell her just as soon as she made a fucking mess of his face. Arina was drenched, was practically dripping all over his fingers and face. She bucked her hips when he sucked that pretty pink clit between his lips, using the flat of his tongue to rub the unhooded center.

“Eris!” she cried, tugging at her bindings. She was pulsating, her cunt mind meldingly hot. He needed her, wanted to slam his cock into her cunt and fuck her until he felt those spasms not around his two fingers but around the base of his shaft. Arina’s hips flew off the bed and no matter how she said she didn’t want him, she ground her pussy into his face, chasing the high of her orgasm.

Eris pulled back, making a big, theatrical show of wiping off his face and licking his fingers clean. Arina watched through half-lidded eyes, her perky tits bouncing with each ragged breath she took. “No one’s ever eaten your pussy like that, have they?” Eris asked, far too pleased with himself.

“Fuck you, Eris.”

“You will,” he agreed pleasantly, walking to the dresser and the vibrator laying on top of it. “Tomorrow.

Her eyes went huge when she heard that tell-tale buzzing. “Eris,” she whispered, her words a plea. “Don’t, please–”

“I won’t,” he promised, turning it off. “If you promise to do everything I say.”

“I will,” she lied. He knew she couldn’t. Eris already had her leg already roped up—all he had to do was slide the handle of the wand through and she’d be back at his mercy. He sat beside her, running a finger over her breast to touch the pink, peaked nipple.

“Do you still want to see your father punished?” he asked absently, ignoring the way his cock pleaded for him to release it. He pinched the dusky bud between two fingers gently, eliciting a soft gasp.

“Yes.”

“And once I’ve drained his accounts and thoroughly humiliated him…you’re asking me to kill him? Just so I understand, sunshine. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” she admitted, eyes fluttering shut beneath his careful touches. “I want to help.”

“Vicious,” he praised. “My smart, vicious wife.”

Her eyes flew open. “What did you say?”

“A priest will be here in the morning,” Eris murmured, still tugging at her breast, the vibrator lying just between them. “All you have to do is say I do, and sign one little document–”

“Eris, that’s crazy,” she breathed. “I’m not going to marry you.”

He knew she’d argue and yet some small part of him was disappointed anyway. “You will. I’m not letting you go.”

“You want to be married forever?” she gaped. “I just assumed this would be pretend—”

“What part of how I just ate your pussy felt like pretending to you?” he snapped. “Vanserra’s don’t get divorced.”

“Just forget it,” Arina writhed. “Forget I asked—”

He turned on the vibrator. “I can’t forget it. You’ll be my wife one way or the other, Arina. Make it easy and I’ll put my face between your legs again.”

“Go to hell, Eris.”

He smiled. “You’re coming with me.”

That first furious scream when he had the vibrator secured to her leg was practically music to his ears.

ARINA:

It wasn’t like before. Eris was too content to watch, to use his little remote so Arina was given a reprieve. He’d wrap his arms around her body and press kisses against her neck and shoulders. Marry me, he’d murmur softly, his mouth ghosting over her jaw. My sweet, smart, vicious girl. Marry me.

And she’d say no and all at once his comforting touches would vanish and the buzzing would begin again. She couldn’t think her way through it, pleasure edged with pain until Arina was desperate. Eris turned it off in the middle of the night, his own exhaustion getting the better of him. She watched him unbutton his shirt, staring between her legs with a mixture of amusement and desire.

“What happened to your back?” she gasped, her heart pounding in her throat.

“What happened to yours?” he shot back without his usual malice. She knew it was rhetorical but everything was just a game to Eris. Marriage, kidnapping, killing. What did he care? How could he ask her to be his wife for the rest of his life if he didn’t seem particularly fascinated if she even lived or died?

“A belt,” Arina told him, watching how still he went. “Buckle against skin, of course. It started with my mother.”

Eris flinched and she wondered if it had started with his mother, too. He had been like her, a little boy hiding while his mother put her body in front of his own? How long before she couldn’t? How long before Eris tired of teasing her sexually and took off his own belt?

“She died when I was fourteen. That dress,” Arina nodded to the discarded white dress she’d bought, “Was for the anniversary of her death.”

“When?” he asked, looking at her with unreadable amber eyes.

“Three months ago,” she admitted, shame washing over her. It was the first time since he’d put her in front of that camera that Arina had felt humiliated or shamed. Even when he’d shoved his cock in her mouth, all she’d felt was anger. It was uncomfortable. “I didn’t go.”

“Why?”

Arina shrugged. “I…” I think it was a waste for her to die for me. “I guess I’m a coward.”

“What happened, after she died?”

Arina couldn’t look at him. “The same as always. Only, it was just me.”

“Is that why he’s not coming?” Eris asked her softly, running a hand over her thigh. “He’s hoping I’ll kill you?”

Tears sprang behind her eyes. “Yes.”

“Marry me, Arina,” he said, his voice harsher than before. “We both know you’re going to say yes before morning. End this and spend the night plotting with me.”

“What about what I want?”

“I am what you want,” Eris replied darkly. “What you need.”

“And you–”

“I’ve been waiting my whole fucking life for you,” Eris snarled, prowling forward until he was at the edge of the bed. He kneeled, this cruel, terrible prince. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you. Vanserra’s don’t get divorced.”

“It’s been four days, Eris,” she whispered.

“Say yes,” Eris urged, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “I know you don’t want to sleep in here alone—”

“You’re going to leave me?” she whispered, wondering why that was what was threatening to break her. Eris wiped the tear from her nose.

“I’m not sleeping next to anyone but my wife tonight,” Eris growled. “If you tell me no, you can sleep alone.”

“Eris,” she whispered.

“Swallow your pride. Admit you want me, too. Marry me, Arina.”

He wouldn’t ask again. Not until the morning, not after he’d wrung her out entirely, had broken her into nothing. And fuck, she knew she was weak. Knew that if she signed that document, Eris would never let her go. Whatever life was like with him would be it. Cruel or kind, Arina had no other option. It wasn’t a choice.

“Yes,” she agreed. He breathed a heavy, warm sigh against her face, pressing his mouth to her lips for the first time since he’d met her. It was so sweet, so at odds with the man she’d come to know so well.

Eris rose, unknotting her legs first and then her wrists. When she stood, stretching her limbs, he caught her against his half naked body and kissed her again, just as softly as before. She knew in some deep recess of her brain that Eris was manipulating her. When she did what he wanted she got his affection, his gentle hands, his praise. And when she displeased him, Eris tied her up until she was a shaking, miserable mess. Arina wanted to fight him just as much as she wanted to make him happy.

“It was a belt for me, too,” Eris told her, thumbs rubbing her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You escaped?”

His palm slid against her bare spine. “I killed him.”

She looked up at him, wondering if this would be the moment that truly scared her. Eris, too, seemed to be wondering if she’d shrink back. If she’d see him for what he really was. It was too late for that. Arina saw him clearly in that dim lamp light, half naked and clutching her like a lifeline.

“I’ve never held a gun before.”

Eris smiled. “Let’s rectify that.”

Morning came too soon. Wrapped against Eris, his arms tight around her, Arina wasn’t sleep-deprived and aching like she had been the night before. The full weight of her decisions were crashing down on her. Marriage. It made sense, she supposed. If her father died, someone had to inherit his empire. Arina didn’t want it, and yet was likely entitled to at least some of it. Her new husband could siphon it off, could enrich himself or even take on his empire entirely.

And Arina could leave. Vanserra’s might not divorce but she could. Eris couldn’t keep her from filing those papers in two months, from taking the vestiges of her former life and fleeing. She could start over, could put this whole thing behind her. Arina genuinely did not believe Eris would fight her on it, not when he found millions and millions of dollars untouched in his accounts.

She didn’t want anything from him and, more importantly, he couldn’t give her anything. Her trust was outside her purview and Arina had no intention of ever telling him about it. She’d take it and run. His reach was long but he wasn’t God. To get what she wanted, Arina could play along.

Eris shifted behind her, tightening his grip instinctually, as if even in sleep he recognized his hold was tenuous at best. She doubted he’d ever loved anything in his life and was mistaking infatuation for it. In some small, strange way, Arina almost pitied him. Almost. Because men like Eris couldn’t really love–they could only possess. Her mother had been beautiful, too, and look what it got her.

The same thing Arina would get if she made the mistake of thinking Eris truly wanted her for anything other than an ornament.

He brushed the hair off her neck, shifting his hips again. Was he ever not erect? She went still behind him, prepared to complain, to beg him not to touch her. She was still raw from the night before. Still embarrassed by how hard she’d come from his fucking tongue and how some sick part of her wanted him to do it again.

“I have a gift for you,” he whispered.

“Will I like it?” she couldn’t help but ask. Eris chuckled.

“It’s not my cock, sunshine. It’s a gift for my new wife and I am certain you will like it.”

New wife. Spoken with such cheerful confidence.

“And…and will we live here?”

Eris chuckled, kissing her cheek before he pushed himself up off the bed. “Fuck no. We’ll go back to my place in the city. I’m sure you want to pack up.”

She didn’t. She loved her apartment, lonely as it was. It had been a sanctuary from violence, from a different sort of fear. Maybe she’d been alone but no one could hurt her, could harm her. What would Eris’s apartment bring?

“I’m sorry for how rushed this is.” Eris’s voice drew her back to reality as he tossed one of his shirts to her. “In six months, we’ll go to the cathedral and do it right. Everyone will think…”

Everyone would assume he’d gotten her pregnant. Arina ignored the way his eyes immediately went glassy, nostrils flared as his fingers stilled on the button of his shirt. “Regardless. It’ll be in the paper tomorrow morning. Your father, at least, will know the truth.”

“He’s not going to send a gift,” Arina told Eris dryly, slipping his shirt over her body. It smelled warm and spicy, the same as him. She knew he caught the way she buried her nose in the collar under the guise of pulling out her hair. Eris smothered a smile.

“I don’t want one of his fucking smart devices. I want to piss him off. It’s getting a nice, shiny write up in all the papers, this merger of families. Tell me, sweetheart. If you were a legitimate business man, how would you feel if your only daughter’s marriage connected you to the fucking mafia? Because it would make me really fucking nervous.”

“Really? You’d be nervous if your daughter married mafia?”

“I said if I was a legitimate businessman. I’m not, although no daughter of mine is going to marry some low-life mafia scum bag.”

“Like you?”

Eris grinned, sliding his belt through his pants. “Exactly.”

Arina huffed a sigh just in time for the doorbell to ring. Eris’s smile fell away. “Are you going to embarrass me in front of the priest?”

“I’m wearing your shirt and no underwear,” Arina replied dryly. “I would think you’re already embarrassed.”

“I’m aroused,” Eris clipped, glancing once at his phone with a frown. “Lets go, Arina. I don’t want–”

She ignored him to snatch that cursed vibrator off the dresser and smash it against the floor. Eris’s lips curled into a smile again, watching as she picked it up and hurled it against the wall. Plastic and wiring shattered, satisfying something angry in her chest.

“I could always just buy–”

She whirled, slapping him hard across the mouth. His eyes went wide—murderous and deadly. “If you ever tie that thing to me again, I will be a widow and I will drive everything you ever loved straight into the ground.”

“I’m going to fuck you in my bed tonight,” Eris growled, his fair skin blooming hot pink.

“I’m sure you think so,” Arina replied, turning her back to the predator behind her to flounce out. She knew better and Eris, a man who wasn’t used to being disobeyed—a man used to being feared—slammed her against the wall, his hand curling around her throat.

“Don’t ever fucking hit me again. Do you understand me?” he growled, his lips inches from her own. “I don’t care if you curse and scream my name and destroy everything I own—don’t ever touch me like that.”

“And you?” Arina asked, thinking of how Eris had been hauling her around without consideration as to if she liked it or not. “Are you still allowed to hit me?”

“Never,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Never.”

“Lets go get married, then,” Arina replied, terrified of the moment unfolding between them. She saw herself looking through those amber eyes, of the unloved child who had done whatever they had to in order to survive. Brutality left a mark and no matter how Eris tried to hide it, she knew that look of fear all too well.

He rubbed a thumb over her cheek, lips parted as if he, too, felt the shifting between them. It was accidental, these two unloved kids who became deeply difficult adults. And as Eris pushed off the wall and yanked open the door, leading her towards the priest who would look the other way while Arina begrudgingly said yes, she wondered if fate hadn’t meddled, at least a little.

She wondered why she wasn’t more afraid.

ERIS:

“Do you consent to the marriage?”

“No.”

Eris replayed the exchange in his head furiously the entire drive back to the city. Arina, pen in hand, stared that priest down and dared him to help her. Of course Father Robers, the ancient, corrupt old fool had merely looked to Eris. Jaw set, he nodded at Arina and she’d signed her fucking name.

And that was that. She was too pleased with her little show of power, body angled away from him in the seat so he couldn’t dig his fingers into her thigh like he wanted to. Everything felt like shit and the one thing he’d wanted to hear her say—yes, I want this marriage—had been ripped away, a reminder that she was only here because she needed something from him and not because she wanted anything.

It burned him more than he was willing to admit. No one just wanted him. They wanted the mobster, the millionaire, the monster. Eris was afraid that she’d never want him. That her father would die and she’d take off somewhere he couldn’t hunt her down, would escape and he’d have to spend the rest of his life trying to find her.

It was humiliating to beautiful, immaculate Arina to have to walk through the lobby of his building in just his shirt. Eris watched how she shrank, too aware she lacked even a pair of shoes when her feet hit the sidewalk steps leading up. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, already hanging mid-thigh against her toned, golden skin. Eris watched the way everyone turned to look at her. Arina was too stunning for her own good, even when she wore nothing but a buttoned up shirt and too many men had immediately taken notice. His penthouse had a bustling lobby given it housed more than just apartments but professional offices and other work spaces where people filed in and out of the gleaming elevators.

Arina might have felt shame, feet bare against the immaculate, dark floor, but Eris felt jealous. Stupid for forgetting what he had. He was too quick to shrug off his jacket, to drape it over her body. Half ownership, half apology. She looked up at him with those wide, green eyes and all at once, Eris felt like a bastard.

Like his father, who always loved any chance to knock his mother down a peg or two. Clearing his throat as he pushed the button to the elevator, Eris murmured, “I should have gotten you something to wear.”

She only nodded, stepping closer when some young professional stepped beside them, the sort who didn’t belong in the private elevator with them, eyes sliding over her bare legs. Eris was all too happy to let her hide behind him now, leveling a cold, cruel stare at the man. The interloper moved away, no longer willing to take his chances.

“You’ll need a keycard for the elevator,” Eris told her once they were zipping upwards. She’d need a lot of things and Eris was uncomfortable by how willing he was to just give her access to his entire kingdom.

Arina opened her mouth to say something likely rude and utterly sassy.The sort of thing that would find her bent over his knee or sitting between his legs, mouth open. Eris never got to hear it. A loud, furious barkbarkbark! Reminded him that Tanwen had been watching Apollo all weekend while he’d been away. Apollo was a massive black and brown doberman he’d purchased as a puppy, initially for security though now Eris had to concede that though Apollo would likely rip out someone's throat if he ordered them to, Apollo’s main directive was cuddling.

“Oh God—” Arina squealed moments before the eighty pound dog sent her flying to the floor. He’d forgotten to warn her. Apollo hated almost everyone but Eris, had bitten all of his brothers at least once and had chased nearly every woman he’d ever tried to bring home out, to the point that Eris now fucked in hotels exclusively. He lunged, terrified for one flickering moment that he’d have to take Arina to the hospital…to find the dog licking her face.

“You left him here?” Arina accused, sitting up to scratch the silken ears of his beast. Eris gaped. Where was Apollo’s fire now? Considering that Arina was likely coated in his scent, and Apollo loved him, if nothing else, Eris relaxed.

“You feel bad for fighting me so hard now, don’t you? Apollo had to sleep all alone.”

Arina, sitting on the elevator, legs spread wide enough he could all but see her pussy, looked at the massive dog with delight.

“Apollo?” she asked in the most absurd, high-pitched baby voice he’d ever heard. “Is that your name? Apollo? Puppy of sun and light? Of music and poetry? The bestest boy–”

“Okay, alright,” Eris grumbled, stepping out of the elevator. “Where is this energy for your new husband?”

“Apollo never forced me to marry him with a vibrator. Did he? Because he’s the goodest boy? Isn’t he? My best little baby? A sweet puppy with the goodest face?”

Apollo whined, trotting just behind as Arina clambered to her feet and joined Eris in his apartment. For a moment, Arina was silent as she drank in the massive, three story space that he called home. Eris knew what she saw—immaculate wood floors and dark walls painted in shades of maroon and hunter green. A black and white rug on the floor tucked beneath rich, heavy furniture. Eris knew he gave off very minimalist vibes, that he seemed like a modern man with a gadget for everything. In truth, Eris had always wanted to live in some forest bound castle—not the prison his father had built, but something more akin to a library.

Shelves upon shelves of books lined the wall closest to the hall, drawing her interest. Most women went to the glass that overlooked the city and took a selfie. Arina went to his collection of rare first editions, running her fingers over the delicate spines with that same awed reverence. It hadn’t been a mistake to marry her. The thought came to him unbidden, hit him so hard it might have knocked him over had he not been holding the back of the couch.

“I can have your things packed up,” he said, aware his affection was making him sound soft. Arina didn’t notice as she pulled Ovid gently from one of the shelves, a 17th century reprint with gold leaf pages. “Or you can go later and get what you want.”

“Okay,” she breathed. Eris didn’t think she’d heard him at all. Only Apollo managed to snag her attention, butting his head against her bare shins demanding tribute in the form of face rubs.

Eris cleared his throat.

“C’mon. Let me show you the rest of the apartment.”

Arina nodded, gently putting the book back. She knew what it was worth, not perhaps monetarily but the value of the knowledge within. And Eris, who had looked her up, knew Arina had a masters degree in Art History though she wasn’t doing anything with it.

Not yet, he reminded himself.

Eris showed her the first floor, letting her poke around the kitchen and his office which connected to his little library. He’d always thought it was pathetic, too small to be anything worthwhile but to Arina, it was clearly everything. He could picture himself at his desk, the french door connecting the two rooms thrown open so he could occasionally peer in at his wife, tucked in one of those squashy leather chairs reading whatever struck her fancy.

And he wanted it so bad it made his chest ache. Normalcy. Someone who saw beneath the ice and loved what was beneath. If that was even possible. No one had ever loved Eris, not really. Not even his mother, who had been forced to marry and have children, who had only escaped when Beron died. She spoke to Lucien occasionally, her baby, but every call and email and text from Eris went unanswered.

Up winding wood steps took Arina and Eris to the third floor, skipping the second—which was more bedrooms, a lounge, and the bar his brothers often drank and played pool in, for their sprawling, massive bedroom. Another glass wall overlooked the city. Eris liked it best when it rained, enveloping him entirely in layers upon layers of gray clouds. Arina paused, sinking her bare feet into the cream rug stretching the length of the room. Apollo, the disaster, hopped up on the bed, wiggling his tail so hard his whole butt shook. He let her walk through the expansive bathroom and more open windows where she could bathe and stare down at her empire, if she liked.

Arina found the walk-in closet with delight and Eris was pleased something besides his collection of books made her happy. “C’mon. One last thing.” A door at the far end of the bedroom opened to six steps that took them up once again. “You have the roof?” she breathed, looking at his private, gleaming pool.

“What good is being king if you can’t have a little fun?” Eris asked her. Arina smiled, pacing the length, bare feet smacking against the tile. There were chairs to lay out and a barbeque if he ever felt so inclined, with tables and a firepit and a built-in bar Eris didn’t think he’d ever used. He’d had such plans when he’d bought the place, renovating specifically with thoughts of forever in mind. Of a wife, of friends and children and all the things he still didn’t have.

Stupid. Eris was so, so stupid. But he came to her, sweeping her thick, blonde hair off her shoulder. “Do you like it?” She went stiff, remembering she wasn’t supposed to. Eris steeled himself for her rejection, swallowed it as he put on his mask of indifference.

Arina turned, eyes wide and sweet.

“I love it.”

Fuck.

ARINA:

She didn’t trust him. Eris had let her bathe and when she’d come out, half her things were tucked in immaculate boxes. He’d asked her to pick out something classy, she assumed because he meant to parade her about and make a general mockery of this new marriage. Still, she’d been so excited to shave and put on something that belonged to her that Arina had done what he told her to.

Eris’s eyes had practically splattered at his feet when he saw the black sheath dress draped over her body. Good. He’d gotten too used to seeing her naked and crying. Let him see her in a bra, a good pair of heels, and a fair amount of make-up. All of Arina's life, people had been begging her to model. She assumed her looks had motivated Eris, at least in part to marriage though it was a bad reason to stake your life on. He was in another suit, phone in hand.

“Do I get my phone back?” she asked him.

“Are you going to tattle on me?” he replied. She scoffed. Who would ever believe her at this point? It was such an outlandish story, so unbelievable that if her pussy hadn’t still ached, she might have thought she made it up, too.

Back in the lobby, Arina was met with the same amount of covert leering, only this time she very much looked like Eris’s something instead of his whore. Girlfriend, wife, person he might get his knuckles bruised and bloodied for, if Eris was the kind of man who did any amount of fighting. He was hot, dressed in his immaculately fitting suit. Perfect hair, sculpted body, classic good looks…Arina had to admit that as far as men she’d gone out with went, Eris was the best looking of the bunch.

Of course, none of those men had ever tied a vibrator to her leg and demanded she marry them, either. She supposed it was a give and take.

Arina was so busy staring at Eris while pretending she wasn’t staring to notice where he was taking them. Only when his car pulled into the fire lane in front of the art museum did Arina have an inkling. A date? She bit her bottom lip, ignoring the red lipstick that was likely staining her teeth, while Eris jogged around and pulled open her door.

“Quick,” he muttered. “I don’t want a ticket.”

“Quick?”

“Yeah. I’ll come back for you in an hour,” he told her, guiding her up the sweeping sandstone steps towards the faux Greek pillars that led indoors. “Maybe an hour and a half if traffic is shitty.”

“You’re leaving me here?” she asked, hating how sad she felt. Eris pulled open the glass door smoothly, his mask of professionalism sliding over his features.

“Mr. Vanserra,” a woman’s voice drew Arina from her hurt. Crossing the marble checkered tile, an older woman in a pencil suit and brown hair graying at the temple made her way through the throngs of visitors meandering towards the ticket counter. He grinned, catching her by the arms to press two airy kisses to her cheeks.

“Elizabeth,” he said with a smile. “Call me Eris, please.”

But Elizabeth was looking at Arina with interest. “Is this her?”

“My wife,” Eris agreed with such obvious pleasure it made Arina all but jump. “She has a Masters in Art History though for the life of me, I can’t remember what her thesis was. She’ll tell you while reminding us both what a dreadful husband I am.”

Arina was staring at him like she’d never seen him before. How did he know that? She’d never told him and he’d never asked. “I leave her in your capable hands.” Arina turned to Eris only to find his mouth pressed against her own. “Good luck, sunshine,” he murmured, hand sliding over the small over her back. And then he was gone. Arina watched him go, stunned he knew anything about her that didn’t revolve around what lay between her legs.

Bewildered, Arina turned to Elizabeth, who offered Arina her arm. “You know Eris?”

She didn’t know what else to say. Elizabeth smiled.

“He’s one of our more generous patrons. When he emailed yesterday and asked me to meet with you, well…” she looked Arina up and down for a moment. “I’ve been trying to fill this position for a while. Tell me about your thesis and the work you’ve done.”

Oh, God. Eris had called in a favor to help her get a job?

She’d just assumed he meant to keep her tied up in his bedroom. Arina had felt relieved when she saw how big his apartment was. It was still a prison but a spacious prison and one with a pool and netflix. This, though…this meant Eris wanted her to have a life outside him. Something to do.

The time flew. Arina talked about her passion for art and history and the way she thought it tied humanity's past to the present. She and Elizabeth gushed over sharing the same alma mater and Elizabeth had taken Arina down into the collection and they’d talked about how to create an experience that drew people in, to bring in visitors that typically felt shut out of the museum.

And when they came back to that massive atrium, Eris was waiting just beside the door, a knowing smile on his face. Her heart fluttered at the sight, an entirely new emotion given their particularly difficult history.

“All yours,” Elizabeth said with a smile. Eris slid something into Arina’s hand when she came to him under the guise of wrapping an arm around her waist. “Eris, you’ll forward her e-mail so we can stay in touch?”

He’d given her a phone. Her phone. “I can give it to you right now, if you want. My phone number, too,” Arina added, flipping on the screen to see Apollo’s snoot staring back at her. Her eyes flicked to Eris and the wicked amusement burning in his eyes. She was sure he’d gone through everything, the fucking snoop.

“I’d love that.”

Arina left practically vibrating, ignoring how good it felt to have Eris just beside her. “It went well, I guess?”

“How did you know?” she asked, nearly breaking her neck to look up at him.

“You think I didn’t google my own fucking wife?” Eris joked. “I like Elizabeth a lot. She’s passionate and smart and has an eye for things other people miss. And when I saw you pick out that book in my office, you reminded me of her. All I did was merely ask a favor. You did everything else.”

“And you’d really let me work?”

“Are you offering to sit beneath my desk every day?” he teased, pulling open the car door for her. It was midafternoon and Arina had gone from a vibrator between her legs and married against her will to a job in the nicest museum in the city in the span of hours. She started to scoff, turning her head to survey the street.

And paused. A man, standing at the bus stop a few feet away, watched her with a familiar looking phone in hand. A Novak phone. He lifted it, capturing the moment between her and Eris. Her father was trailing them, she realized. Arina kept her smile on her face, reaching for Eris’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“We’re being followed,” she murmured, her nose brushing his own. It was an intimate moment between lovers. Hardly a captive desperate to escape. What did he make of her and Eris, she wondered. What would he think of the picture?

Eris grinned. “I love when they make it easy. Get in the car, sunshine. I’ve got one more thing for you.”

“No more—” he snapped the door shut in her face before she could finish, the dismissive asshole.

He joined her in the driverseat, looking across her through the tinted window. “That fuck?” he asked. “You know him?”

“No,” she replied. “But only people who work for dad use his terrible phones.”

Eris chuckled. “Fair. Let's go home and take Apollo for a walk. See if we’re really being followed or this was just a fluke.”

“You think I’m being paranoid?” It hurt her feelings right up to the moment Eris pressed his mouth against her own.

“I think you’re the perfect mob wife,” Eris told her, amber eyes dark again. That familiar desire was threading through him, weaving its way around her, too. “My smart girl.”

“Stop doing that,” she complained, pressing her knees together.

“No. You like it,” he retorted.

“I…why do you call me sunshine?” Arina asked, thinking to the old nickname he’d never properly explained.

“You radiate it,” he replied. “You’re pure sunlight.”

“Like Apollo?” she questioned. Eris frowned, eyes focused on the traffic in front of him.

“I suppose.”

“Are you looking for sunlight, Eris?”

She shivered when he looked over at her.

“Maybe I am.”

ERIS:

Eris spent the evening poking through Arina’s fathers business and everyone that was close to him. Arina spent the evening hanging clothes in his closet. It was all so domestic that for a moment, Eris could envision a different past for them. One where he’d taken her on a date and fucked her properly, no ropes required.

He had no regrets. He could be sentimental when he wanted to be but his start with Arina was exactly as it should be.

“Come here,” he murmured when night fell. His eyes ached from staring at a screen. Part of him felt as if he’d run a marathon, felt as if he must have been married to her for years and not mere hours. Arina poked her head from the closet, eyes narrowed.

“Is this the part where I thank my benevolent master with a sloppy kiss?” Eris was going to spank her. Spank her until her ass was so sore she couldn’t sit tomorrow and then fuck her pussy raw. She saw it on his face, saw the way his body shifted as he rose from the chair beside the windows.

“Eris,” she murmured, one hand outstretched. He only shook his head.

“Is that gratitude?” he murmured, lunging when she tried to dart for the bedroom door. He caught her by the waist, hauling her flailing body over his shoulder just long enough to avoid getting kicked in the jaw—this time, at least—while disorienting her. Eris crawled up her toned body, dressed in absurdly short shorts and a little bitty crop-top.

“I’m not going to say thank you,” Arina complained, writhing against his knees pinning her wrists to the bed.

“Hard to say anything when you’re choking on my fucking cock,” he crooned, pulling his belt from the loops. He ignored the way her eyes tracked the movement, waiting to see if he’d go back on his promise. He had no intention of hitting her with anything but his open palm and would have stopped if he ever truly thought some depraved part of her didn’t like it. He’d felt how wet her pussy was when he’d done it the first time.

Freeing himself, Eris rubbed his half hard erection against her pretty, angry face. “Will it always be such a fight between us?” Eris asked, thinking of the handcuffs in his bedside table. It was wholly an accident they remained there—Eris had dumped restraints atop that piece of furniture ages ago and when he didn’t want the maid to think he was a mobster, he’d merely swept them into the drawer so she could think he was a pervert.

The truth, it seemed, was smack dab in the middle.

Arina writhed, bucking her hips and fuck he wanted to see her hands cuffed to the headboard, wanted her helpless while he took her from behind. His cock practically bruised with arousal, pooling a little bead of precum he promptly smeared all over her lips.

“Answer me, sunshine. Do you plan to fight me until we die?”

“You like the fight,” Arina breathed, her breath warming him. Eris smiled, cupping her cheek.

“Just once, I would like to see you admit you want me.”

“You should consider a different wife, then,” Arina replied. Eris chuckled, lifting one thigh off her to drape it across her torso, cock wedged between her bouncy tits while he reached for those handcuffs. Arina realized only a moment too late, reaching up a hand to shove just so he could slide it into the cuff and clip it to the little metal bar that held the mattress and the wood. The position forced her to arch her back just a little. Eris sighed with pleasure, securing the other.

“You are too fucking pretty,” he told her, sliding off her body to undress himself. “And I’m starting to worry I want you too much.”

“Sounds pathetic,” Arina panted, her head pressed to the dark wood. She tried to pull her hands up but unlike rope, the metal restraints were far less forgiving.

It was torture, letting the fabric of his clothes drag across his needy, sensitive skin. To feel the slide of her eyes against him even as pouty, full lips lied.

Naked, Eris went to her shorts. Arina tried to kick but it was half-hearted, even of her. He couldn’t help his chuckle, shimmying the white fabric off her bronzed skin to reveal the pretty red thong just beneath.

“For me?” he whispered, unable to look at anything but the lace tucked between her bare pussy lips. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t care.”

“It’s just underwear,” Arina complained, as if Eris didn’t plan to coat them in his come. He slid his hands up over her stomach, pushing the fabric of her shirt to her neck.

“It’s a gift,” he murmured with appreciation. “Just like you. All wrapped up for me…and I’ll bet, if I touch, that pussy is drenched.”

She didn’t say a word, instead clamping her knees as best she could, Eris was firmly wedged in the cradle of her thighs. He didn’t warn her, didn’t prepare her at all, as he set out to prove he was right about her want. Cock hovering above her entrance, the lacy fabric pushed to the side, Eris lowered his mouth to one of her breasts to capture one dusky nipple between his teeth and slammed his cock from root to tip into her body.

Arina bowed off the bed with a scream, pulling so hard at her restraints the bedframe groaned. He’d only meant to stay inside her for one stroke, had always intended to pull back out and spank her ass for her smart mouth.

“Fuck,” Eris panted when the silky soft walls of her cunt wrapped around. “Fuck, sunshine. You’re so goddamn tight.”

A tear slipped down her cheek when he pushed again. Arina used the pillow beneath her head to wipe it away, swallowing hard.

“That hurt,” she whispered and Eris swore he wanted to care. Eris nipped at her breast, pushing again and again until he was dragging more of the slick desire from her body. She whimpered when he tugged too hard with his teeth, yanking again at her restraints.

Eris hovered over her face, forcing his desperate body to slow the fuck down. He was too wild, more animal than man as he thrust into his brand new wife but fuck, no pussy had ever felt so good, so hot and wet. Eris smoothed her hair off her face, pressing his lips to her temple. He was too afraid she wouldn’t kiss him back, was back to hating him.

“Tell me the name of every man who has ever fucked you,” he ordered, pumping furiously. Her hips arched, the walls of her cunt fluttering. God, he marveled. Was she going to come?

Arina whimpered. “Why?”

“So I can kill him,” Eris replied, keeping his cock exactly where it was, dragging the blunt end over the softest part of her skin. Arina was panting, her eyes rolling upwards. “I don’t want anyone to know what this pussy feels like. You’re mine. Look at me when you come Arina.”

Her eyes snapped to his face, blazing and dark, the prettiest shade of green he’d ever seen. “You’re mine,” he said again, searching her expression for her agreement. There was no defiance, only that open, bald desire he was so attracted to.

“Say it!”

Arina’s body bowed off the bed again, a sobbing cry wrenched from her throat. Eris inclined his head to the ceiling when she clenched punishingly tight, the feel of her heart pounding against his aching cock. She was practically dripping and when Eris pulled back to look, he could see her orgasm coated white against his swollen skin.

“Yours,” Arina managed, choking out the word when Eris gripped her hips, angling her off the bed so he could drive hard and deeper, fuck her the way he suspected she wanted. Rough and messy, his strokes were bruising to him, too. Each harsh push elicited a gasp, his cock as vicious as he felt.

“No one fucks you right, do they?” he panted, unable to tear his eyes off her sweaty face, her bouncing breasts. Lips parted so she could gulp down air he was punching from her lungs, Arina whined.

“Tell me or I might stop,” he murmured, purposefully slowing his hips when all he really wanted to do was pour himself into her. He could feel soft lace brush against his sopping skin, dragging her arousal away with a teasing caress.

“No one fucks you the way you want, do they?” he pressed. “Like a whore? Like my little slut?”

She nodded her head, teeth sinking into that plush, bottom lip.

“They fuck you like a pretty princess. Fragile. Breakable. Made. Of. Glass.” Eris punctuated each word with a near violent press of his cock. She was rolling her hips, lifting to meet him. She widened her legs, tightening around him rhythmically again and God, Eris thought watching her come again might be the closest he ever got to a religious experience.

“They don’t know what a vicious thing you are, do they?” Eris crooned. Her eyes, half-lidded and heavy with desire, looked at him with some new, soft emotion that made Eris feel raw. Important.

Cared for.

He blinked it away.

“You’re my vicious wife,” he praised, stroking and stroking until Arina arched up again, her legs clamping around his waist. He could feel her trembling, could see the way her pussy gaped and sucked, looking for that last little push, that one small thing that would take her right over the edge.

“Take it, Arina,” he begged, his own orgasm barrelling towards him. “Take it all.”

She screamed again, writhing and twisting to escape the unrelenting pleasure that he was sure pained her. Arina’s cunt practically milked release from his body, holding him so tight Eris was rutting against her, no better than an animal. He couldn’t stop, gasping and panting as he poured and poured–more come than he was used to. It was some sort of magic she had, some special ability to empty his balls and take his soul right along with it.

“Oh my God,” Eris breathed, sheathing his cock to watch come slide down her body and pool against his dark bedsheet.

“Unrestrain me right fucking now,” Arina panted. It took Eris a moment to regain control of his limbs, to press his chest against her own as he slid in the key and freed her. He waited for her wrath, her violence, but the moment Arina had control of her hands, she reached for his face and kissed him roughly. There were tears in her eyes when she pulled back and Eris couldn’t help himself.

“Come here, come here,” he murmured, tugging her against him so she was cradled against his chest while he reclined against the pillows. Smoothing out her hair, Eris peppered kisses against her scalp. “You were so good,” he praised, over and over until the tension in her body eased and she unfurled her body to lay against him.

“You were good, too, Eris,” she whispered, running a hand over his bare chest. “I feel like no one ever tells you that. You were good, too.”

“I’m not good, Arina,” he replied. He couldn’t have her thinking he was some kind of prince, even a dark one. Eris was very firmly the villain, would always be the bad guy.

“You’re good to me,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his stomach. “I don’t care about anyone else.”

“You don’t mind if I burn the whole world?” he questioned, breath hitching his throat at the sight of her fingers trailing over the thin strip of auburn hair leading towards his cock.

“As long as I’m with you,” she replied. “The whole world can suffer.”

And suffer, he suspected, they would.

ARINA:

Freedom.

Or something like it. Married for a week, Arina was allowed unrestricted access to everything Eris owned. His fleet of cars, his money, his apartment. If Arina wanted to go to the gym, a car was waiting when she stepped into the lobby. If she wanted to spend an obscene amount of money, Eris’s credit card was in her bag, her own name added to the heavy black metal. And when Elizabeth called two days after the impromptu interview and offered Arina the job, Eris had merely congratulated her over the phone and then later that night with his mouth against her body.

He was all wrong and nothing like she expected. At night, after he fucked her raw and stupid, he’d lay out everything he knew about her father and how to get close to him. Arina smiled and filled in the answers to his questions, knowing full well the best way to get to her father was to merely start moving through the world again.

Which was exactly what Arina was doing. Spoiled and dripping in designer clothes, she knew he was watching. Furious that she’d embarrassed him more than once. That Eris had tried to blackmail him through the daughter he didn’t want and instead of killing her, had married her. Her father had never found any value in Arina—why should anyone else?

And so, it was freedom to eschew the car and walk that day, taking the subway like she had in the past. Eris would have killed her if he knew but Eris was too busy with his empire to track his wife. He trusted her to his detriment and Arina almost loved him for it. It would have been so easy to put a leash on her, to let her languish in his gilded cage. It was why Arina kept his phone number queued in her phone at all times–just in case.

He would come if she needed him.

The museum was Arina’s new, favorite place. It was more than just a favor that Eris called in; some write-off he liked to pretend didn’t matter. To Arina, who had never felt smart or special or worth anything, stepping into the tiny office on the fourth floor meant everything to her. Eris, who could have done nothing at all, had taken the time.

Had seen her.

He’d put an absurdly large diamond on her hand just the night before, demanding she wrap her hand around his cock so he could enjoy what he paid for, if only once. Arina wondered if he hadn’t chosen that ring, delicate and beautiful as it was, imagining the hand job he’d get later. Eris was so fussy like that.

Heals clacking against the marble, Arina wove through the emptied atrium of the four block, sprawling complex that housed more art than Arina could appreciate in a year. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, of course. Those twilight hours of dawn and dusk, when there was no one around but her and Arina could wander to her heart's content, had done something to soften her aching, wounded soul.

She was sitting in front of a Renaissance painting, examining the expression with studious, careful eyes, when Eris texted.

Late tonight. Order something for dinner.

What was late to a man who was never in any earlier than ten? Arina merely sent a sad face and called for a car. There would be no subway tonight, not when the sun had already set. Not when it was Eris and his ilk roaming the streets like predators. Someone would surely tattle and she’d have to listen to some self-important lecture from a man who was easily bested by her foot against his jaw.

She waited on the steps, leaned against a pillar to scroll at the endless options for dinner when that black car rolled up. Just like Eris, it stopped in the fire lane. Arina hurried down, ignoring the way her feet ached from a day in heels and yanked open the door.

“Daddy?” she breathed, staring into the backseat with an all-too familiar face.

“Get in,” he ordered, a gun resting on his knee. That was new. Arina did as she was told, sliding into the seat carefully.

“Where did you get a gun?”

“It’s not hard,” he dismissed, looking to the rearview mirror where his driver watched. Arina paused.

“Where is my driver?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Dead.

Since when had her father become a killer?

The car zipped into the night, her father’s leg bouncing beside her. She glanced towards the man who’d given her life, who had tried so hard to make every minute of it miserable. His dirty blonde hair was graying at the temples, blue eyes wrinkled at the corners. He was still in good shape, still handsome. She could see the whisper of what her mother had once found so appealing. She knew when he’d wanted to be, he could be kind and soft—just enough to keep her mom guessing, from doubting herself.

Wedged between her body and the unyielding car door, Arina pressed the button that would silently dial Eris. She glanced down, furious to see he hadn’t picked up. A text fluttered over her screen instead and Arina could just imagine his annoyance.

What do you need?

She needed him. Arina dialed again and again and again, all of which went unanswered. In every scenario she’d imagined, she’d never pictured a gun and she certainly hadn’t envisioned Eris too busy to help. Deciding to try one last time, Arina turned to her father, unable to look and see Eris reject her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked him, unfamiliar with the part of town they were rolling towards.

“So many questions,” he murmured, staring out his window and the blur of white and red tail lights streaking past. “When it’s me who should be asking you what you think you’re fucking working.”

She might have been eight years old again, staring at her towering father while he demanded why she was so noisy. Arina swallowed, heart in her throat. “Working.” He scoffed. “Working? My daughter hasn’t worked a day in her life.”

She didn’t let that hurt her feelings. “You just picked me up from work. You know where—”

“And Vanserra? What is that?”

He turned the full weight of his hatred on her and not for the first time, Arina wondered why he’d ever wanted a family at all. She knew he’d wanted more but some hiccup with her mother had prevented it. Was it sons that he was after? Or just the veneer of happiness? Of a man in love?

Arina felt shame wash over her.

“That video he sent me…” her father clicked his teeth. “Everyone saw, Arina.”

Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?”

“Well, of course we had to send it to the lawyers,” he replied smoothly. “And I had some colleagues look…I don’t want to see my own daughter that way.”

“You…” Arina had never considered, in a million years, that her own father would hand out what amounted to pornography of her.

A cruel look spread over her fathers face. Lips curled over too-straight teeth, he said, “I wanted to know if you were trying to extort me, too. I’m sure your little shopping trips are eating at your inheritance.”

Arina took a breath. “So you showed that video to everyone…in order to determine if I was enjoying myself?”

He glanced towards the window. “Yes.”

“And what did you learn?”

He didn’t look at her. “That it didn’t matter, as you married that fucking bastard anyway.”

Arina opened her mouth to protest, to insist she hadn’t wanted to but why was she trying to defend herself to her father? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. It wouldn’t have mattered if Eris put a gun in her mouth and ordered her to sign that piece of paper. All he saw was a disappointment and nothing Arina could have done, no amount of defiance, would have ever changed that.

“Is that why you’re here? You wanted to give me a wedding gift?”

The car halted in front of an unfamiliar building on the outskirts of town. Arina’s blood ran cold when she saw that dilapidated front, practically leaning against the night sky. The building beside it had been burned to the ground and though she couldn’t prove it, Arina just assumed it must have been intentional. She glanced at the phone in her hand, miserable when she realized Eris had hung up on her again.

Her father looked at her again, his face illuminated orange beneath a flickering street lamp. “Men like Vanserra kill as often as they fuck. So he married you last week. This week your body is rotting down by the docks. No one notices, no one mourns. All they have is a little video of him torturing you for cash. Vanserra goes to jail and you go…wherever disappointing whores of daughters spend their eternity.”

She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.

“He thought he could fucking break me? I’m not you,” he whispered, pulling open his door. “I’ll see you both six feet under before this is done.”

She stayed in her seat, letting the cool air flood into the climate controlled car. The driver didn’t so much as look at her, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel. How much had he been paid to look the other way.

“Get out, Arina,” her father ordered. Her legs uncurled from beneath her and Arina slid along that backseat until her immaculate black heels were pressed against the filthy, crumbling asphalt.

Glass crunched beneath her shoes, punctuating the sound of a siren somewhere in the distance.

“You’re going to kill me?” Arina asked as he led her towards the rotting boards attempting to keep people from squatting in the condemned building. It reeked of urine and decay. This was where she was going to die. Arina had given very little thought to the how and when but surely it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Would Eris avenge her? It was a strange thought as she stepped onto gray office carpet half peeled from the floor. He barely knew her. Maybe her father was right. Married one week, divorced the next. Eris had only ever wanted money, besides. He was wily. He’d figure it all out, would keep himself from a prison cell.

Darkness flooded her vision as her father turned, framed by that crumbling doorway. “I think you’ve killed yourself, Arina.”

He pointed that gun only to hesitate, his eyes sliding behind her. Arina felt fingers curl over her shoulders for only a moment, dragging the familiar spicy, masculine scent of Eris Vanserra. “I’d think about your next move very carefully,” he murmured, hands sliding off her body. Eris sounded lethal, angrier than she’d ever heard and yet his voice was controlled–almost calm. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that raced up her spine. Standing beside her, Eris’s cold, imperious face was illuminated in a sliver of artificial light pouring from a broken window. She’d forgotten how dangerous he was.

“You first, then,” her father clipped, pointing that gun at Eris’s chest. Eris smiled, and Arina screamed, taking two steps towards him when that shot rang out.

Not him, not him, not— Three more shots rang out though she didn’t see them, not her body seemed to explode in every direction. She didn’t even realize she was falling until she collided with the filthy ground. All she felt was a burning so potent she even her hair seemed to ache. She thought she was on fire.

She groaned without meaning to when something—someone—wrenched her off the floor and into the air. Eris was staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. “You have blood on your face,” she breathed, trying to focus on anything but the way her body seemed to be crumbling. That amber color, flecked with brown, kept Arina from closing her eyes.

“Why would you do that?” he demanded. Were they walking? Arina couldn’t figure out what was happening. “Why would you–” Eris sucked in a ragged breath, stilling, still holding her desperately. “I was waiting. He couldn’t hurt me. Arina, look at me. Look at me right now, sunshine. Tell me why you did that!”

“Not you,” she whispered, struggling to get the words out on her heavy tongue. “I didn’t want it to be you who died.”

“Arina, look at me,” he demanded but it couldn’t be helped. Arina tried to reach for his face, the one she’d come to love inexplicably. She wanted to tell him.

I love you.

She didn’t know what happened after that.

But the pain was gone.

ERIS:

It took Arina four fucking days to wake up. Eris didn’t take her to a hospital like a good husband would have because, despite the bullet in her back, doctors called the cops. And cops liked to ask questions Eris couldn’t answer—like where Novak was, which was chopped up and tossed into the river. Of course, they were looking for him anyway but it was hardly Eris’s fault if Novak just up and vanished. He had a perfectly reasonable alibi, besides. He’d been in court all night and his wife worked at the museum and no, you couldn’t talk to her thank you very much.

Eris had begged Elizabeth to push Arina’s start date back given her father’s disappearance and Arina, the sweet, lovely thing, had made such an impression that Elizabeth didn’t even mind. It left him only to tend to his wife, treated in a warehouse by the docks by the butcher, which was really just Conall who had become a surgeon rather than another lawyer.

She’ll live, his brother had said, eyeing him with distaste. As if Eris needed the reminder that he’d failed her, had let her get hurt. He couldn’t stop replaying that moment, her fear, how she’d stepped in front of a goddamn gun to keep him, a worthless criminal, from dying.

Or her last, whispered words.

I love you.

Eris was working that morning, the sun filtering brightly into the bed. And Arina, still as always, unaware he curled himself against her every night and begged for her forgiveness, moaned. He stilled, snapping his laptop shut to look at her. Apollo lay at her feet, tail thumping loudly on the bed. Eris let his dog slowly crawl up the bed, sniffing at her neck hopefully. Arina raised an arm and pushed.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “I mean it, Eris. Not right now.”

“Is that what my breath smells like?” he asked dryly, heart pounding in his chest. She peeked open an eye, her face entirely too pale, too exhausted for his liking. “Dog?”

“I didn’t even notice,” she admitted, curling her fingers in invitation to join. Eris hesitated.

“Arina,” he began, earning an exasperated sigh he didn’t think was warranted. “You were shot.”

She winced. “Is my father—”

“Dead. Very, very dead.”

Her eyes closed, a small smile curving against her lips.

“You…” he didn’t know where to even start with her. Arina looked up at him again, eyes wide and trusting.

I love you.

“So you got what you wanted, then?” she questioned. “The money, I—”

“You almost fucking died,” Eris snapped. “Fuck the money, Arina, I almost lost you.”

Her mouth formed a soft oh. “I’m okay.”

Eris dragged a hand through his hair. He must have aged a million years between that bullet and now. Opening and closing his mouth, trying desperately to get the words out, Eris went to her, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. “Why would you…”

He pressed the back of her hand to his lips, well aware she could feel how he was shaking. Arina waited, lacing her fingers through his while Apollo rested his head on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t…You shouldn’t—”

“Eris,” she whispered. “What are you trying to ask me?”

“Why would you step in front of a gun for me?” he rasped, the words raw even to his own ears. “Don’t say–”

“Because I love you,” she whispered, not looking away from him. “I didn’t plan it. I just did it.”

Eris laid himself out on the bed, face down as he buried himself into the crook of her neck. “I was wearing a vest. If he’d shot me, it would have only bruised. I came prepared…Lucien was just behind him. You..”

“I didn’t know,” she replied, dragging her nails through his hair.

“Why wouldn’t you assume?”

“I’ve known you for two weeks, Eris,” she reminded him. “I didn’t even think you were coming–”

A miserable groan escaped his throat. “You thought I–”

“Just say it, Eris,” she whispered. “Say the words you’re trying to get out.”

He looked down at her, beautiful face bruised from the lack of sleep. Holding her in his hands, he murmured. “I would lay the word at your feet, Arina. I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you. Smart, beautiful, sunshine.”

“Your wife,” she added, earning a grin he couldn’t help.

“Goddamn right,” he agreed. “My vicious, fearless wife.”

“How bad was it?” she asked, wincing as she tried to twist herself up.

“Connal will be by later to check. You’re not supposed to exert yourself—”

“My job,” she breathed, eyes filling with horror for the first time since she’d woken. Eris ought to have known the death of her father would unphase her but the possibility she’d lose that spot at the museum would fill her with dread.

“Safe,” he promised as he helped her sit upright. Arina eyed him for a moment with open suspicion.

“So…until I’m well, I’m supposed to just lay in your bed? Unrestrained?”

He smiled again. “Our bed, wife. Our bed. And I will restrain you if you keep sassing me. I have a documentary on world war two ships—”

“Okay, alright. Help me to the bathtub, Eris. I know I smell just as bad as your dog mouth.”

Eris kissed her forehead.

“Whatever you say.”

~ Two years later ~

“A package, Mrs. Vanserra,” the doorman told her the very moment she stepped into the building. Arina nodded, following him towards the front desk where he handed her a clipboard to sign before offering up a thick white envelope.

“Thanks Curt,” she murmured with a smile, striding to the elevator. A neon yellow manicured nail slid through the glue as the elevator raced upwards, taking her home. She’d just removed the tacky lip from the heavy paper when the doors dinged open and Apollo barked, pulling her attention from the mail.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured, reaching to scratch his ears as she tossed the mail forgotten to the side table by the door. Arina unbuttoned her jacket, tossing it to the couch as she passed through, well aware it would bother Eris. He still hated mess, a tragedy given who his wife was. She didn’t care. Phone in hand, Arina saw Eris’s last message.

Home in five. Want dinner?

She unzipped the back of her dress, leaving it pooled on the floor. She did this with the rest of her clothes, draping her bra over a doorknob and her underwear on a chair, until she was in nothing but her tall white pumps. She heard the elevator ding just as she reached the dining room, smiling when she heard Eris’s sigh of exasperation.

“Your mother is a mess,” he muttered to Apollo. How long would it take him to find her, perched on the dining room table, legs spread right in front of his chair? Embarrassingly long was the answer. His nice shoes clipped over the hardwood, stopping in practically every room. Arina smothered a smile when his irritation gave way to fascination.

“Sunshine?” he all but purred and she wondered if he’d found the panties or the bra. “Where are you hiding?”

So dumb. Eris was the smartest man she’d ever met and somehow also the dumbest. She merely waited, elbows starting to ache from the unyielding wood beneath her. Didn’t he know posing like this was supposed to be a quick thing? Arina knew the moment she sat up he’d come strolling in and the whole mood would be ruined.

Jacket tossed casually over his arm, Eris strolled in her clothes in one hand, the mail in the other. His lips curled upwards, eyes burning with want. “Is this dinner?” he asked, tossing everything in his hands to the chair beside him.

“Do you want it to be?” she asked, heart pounding with arousal. Eris was unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them to his elbows. She wanted him to take it all off but Eris loved a good game.

“Considering I had to skip breakfast,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving her pussy. And that was true. She’d heard his phone ringing shrilly at four am, had heard his soft, furious rumblings before he stormed out, foregoing his usual morning foreplay before work. “I’m starving.”

Arina squealed when he lunged, his fingers curling roughly against her thighs. Yanking her against the edge of the table, Eris pressed slow, hot kisses against the inner part of her leg.

“Are you going to tell me how your day was?” Eris murmured. “Or are we to eat in silence?”

Arina pressed the toe of her shoe against his neck. “Shut up, Eris,” she panted, earning a deliciously dark look in response.

“Is that so? My wife wants me to stop talking? You know, I had a difficult day. Perhaps I would like to discuss it at length–”

She surged forward and shoved at his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

“You’re too in love with the sound of your own voice,” she complained when he chuckled, kissing the lips of her cunt softly.

“Wrong, as alway. I’m only in love with you.”

Eris pushed her back roughly. That was one thing that had never changed, in the two years she’d known him. His demanding hands, his proclivity to be rough, to edge her pleasure with pain. His teeth nipped at her skin, tugging just enough to convince her to lay flat on her back for him. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, Eris watched her through his auburn lashes, a wicked smile gracing his face.

“No clever words now?” he taunted, licking a wet stripe up the center of her body. Arina exhaled. “My pretty wife has become spoiled. You’re too used to having your pussy eaten…maybe I should dig out that vibrator–”

“Eris!” Arina pleaded, already throbbing from that one little touch. He offered her one last look, the sort that betrayed his own shredding control before he descended like the rabid animal she knew he was. With that first brutal sucking of his lips over her clit, Arina was reminded there was truly nothing soft or sweet about this man. Not truly. What did it say about her that she craved the way he came at her, the way he handled her.

Forceful fingers pushed into her dripping pussy, the very same that had liked wrapped themselves around a trigger that morning. Pleasure for her, pain for everyone else. The things Eris cared about were minuscule and the things he was willing to go to war for? Well, perhaps only his family. His brothers…her.

Arina was burning, her nails scraping against the wood as Eris held her tight against his face. His mouth alternated between soft, almost languid swipes and brutal, demanding nips and sucks while his fingers fucked her without mercy. It was a preview of what he’d do with his cock just as soon as he was satisfied.

“Please,” she begged, getting that out of the way before he could order it from her. “Eris, please—”He sucked again, tongue lavishing praise over the unhooded flat of her clit. It was permission and thank God. Arina’s urge to climax was practically a hair trigger, her scream of pleasure bouncing off the glass around them. Eris kept her where she was, still thrusting his fingers, still licking and sucking and nipping until that second orgasm ripped through her just the way he liked. Unwilling and desperate, her body forced to bend to his will.

Eris was on her again, kissing her roughly, tongue behind her teeth so she had to taste herself. “You’re dripping,” he panted, fumbling with his pants. “You made a mess of me.”

“I think you like a little mess,” Arina breathed, letting him flip her to her stomach, his warm hands surprisingly gentle against her skin. She felt him knead her ass with his usual appreciation—Eris was nothing if not an ass man, after all. He punctuated his sweetness with a hard slap to her cheek, groaning when he heard her gasp.

“I hate mess, Arina. If you keep that drippy pussy of yours sliding all over my table, I’m going to have to clean it up.”

God, she wished he would. Arina would have died to watch him lick her off that table. There was no time to truly ponder it. Hips arched, Eris offered no preamble to that first violent thrust, the kind that promised to bruise the walls of her cunt, that meant she’d feel him every time she sat down for at least a day. Maybe two, depending on how long he could draw himself out. Sometimes Eris had the same quick urge, could just barely restrain himself.

Tonight, his hand wrapped around her throat, his other pressed against the hole of her ass, Arina knew he would be quick. If he was touching her like this already, it meant he needed her to come with the least amount of effort on his part so he could, too.

It meant he’d be on her again in an hour to make up for his lack of time. He wouldn’t be so rough the second time around, would spend more time kissing, rolling his hips until she was breathless and whiny. It would be a slow build, one he controlled entirely and when she came, it would only because Eris willed it.

Now, though, he just needed her to do exactly as he said. “Are you going to coat me in your come again?” he asked, his voice more grunt than anything. Gone was his elegance, replaced with the frenzied thing pumping brutally into her. “I want to see it,” he added, slapping her ass again.

She moaned, trying to press her forehead against the table so she could arch her hips and take him deeper, could feel that violent stretch everywhere. Arina was so full, so brutally hot. Eris kept his grip, tightening his fingers against her windpipe until all she could do was draw shallow, panting gasps.

“I can feel that tight pussy,” Eris all but begged. “Take it, Arina. Come fo–”

She tried to scream but Eris held tight, drawing only a choked moan as Arina came violently, spasming around him so hard he could only rut his own release with a grunting plea to a God she knew he didn’t really believe in.

He released her throat to drop his head against her shoulder blades. Kissing her skin, Eris withdrew, touching the spend dripping from her legs. She let him slide it over her swollen, sensitive clit.

“I think you should take out your birth control,” he murmured like he always did when he was still hazy with lust. He wanted a child in theory but Eris was terrible at sharing and Arina thought they had more than enough time.

“Mm,” she agreed noncommittally. He’d be back to being grateful she had it in twenty minutes when his head was clear and his floors were clean. Eris dropped into his chair, unbuttoning his shirt as Arina righted herself fully, letting him pull her into his lap as he reached for the mail.

“I do want to eat, you know,” he told her, kissing the top of her forehead. “Order something.” She twisted for her phone in the same chair he’d thrown her clothes on while Eris went for the envelope she’d begun to open.

She knew something was wrong before he said a word. His body, loose from the sex mere moments ago, became rigid and taut. Arina peered up at the hard set of his jaw, his furious eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know this woman,” he said, setting a photograph onto the table. Arina would never be used to the causal violence of his world, of the way men just snapped photos of naked, blindfolded women strapped to chairs. Her mind flickered, for only a moment, to Lucien and the girl he’d been holding before she banished it entirely.

This was me, once.

Arina pressed a kiss to Eris’s bare neck.

“Who is she?”

“Nesta Archeron,” he murmured, turning over the photograph as if it bothered him. “We went to school together. First in her class. I knew that last name was familiar…Archeron.”

Arina waited for Eris to expand on his turbulent thoughts.

“Lucien kidnapped that girl…Elain. Elain Archeron. Graysen has her sister.”

Arina pressed her head to his chest. “You should get her back, Eris.”

“I should fucking kill him,” he replied. “He’s going to drag us all down with his theatrics.”

She kissed again. “What does he want?”

Eris tossed the little letter to the table, letting it flutter against the photo. “Lucien, of course. There’s nothing he could ask me for I’d give him, though. He must know it.”

“I trust you to do the right thing,” she murmured, well aware the right thing would involve a messy murder she would pretend to know nothing about. Arina had become quite good at looking the other way while Eris washed blood off his hands at night.

He brushed stray pieces of hair from her face.

“C’mon,” he murmured, hauling her up into his arms. “Let me put you to bed before I deal with this.”

“Can’t be worrying about your wife?”

“I know what happens when I leave her unsatisfied,” Eris murmured, turning for the stairs, his fingers digging in her skin. “I can’t risk your wrath.”

Arina smiled. It was a strange life.

But it was hers.

#once again trusting the right people to find this #and everyone else to just stay away #mafia eris is not a nice man #but he IS a sexy one #and sometimes that just has to be enough #but this man in jail #but let him have a conjugal visit or two #the edit makes this seem really sweet #you know what though #hes doing some decent aftercare #dog mom arina

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medicinemane · 5 months

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#one problem that's got me right now; aside from my stomach audibly churning wanting something more; is no one listens #people try to listen; and people think they listen; but they don't actually listen #there's always advice to be given; there's always their own perspective to be imposed on things #and everyone means well; everyone's real damn caring you know? that's part of why I don't just say this shit #but no one actually listens #...why is it that so often when I listen to people they're like 'Exactly!'; but when people listen to me it's like... you didn't hear me?#am I just pickier? or when I listen is it that I go broader strokes and avoid advice?#I'll often take a shot in the dark just based on looking inward and seeing how I'd be feeling in that situation #and... and this isn't a brag or something; but I can't remember the last time someone didn't feel validated by it #(which must be blindness on my part; I must have missed the times I made people feel more alone)#(I certainly don't always even manage to find something worthwhile to say; but when I do people seem validated)#but that's me turning inwards and just presenting how the situation makes me feel; and that making people feel seen #(like once again; not fucking bragging; but people will act like I saw right through them)#(when I was just tossing out something that I was only like 70% sure of and felt probably insulting or something)#but then I complain that people impose their own perspectives when talking to me... when me doing that seems to be what works #so why the fuck is that? is it that I more use myself as a thing to look at to relate to them while not really giving advice?#is my real complaint more like 'no one seems able to listen without trying to offer advice'?#also like... no one seems able to like... fucking trust me; or think for a second I might have lived this shit (possibly longer than them)#like... in a non emotional example:#once was talking about how I gotta heat my room with an electric radiator and the person starts telling me about how I gotta do it #like '3 ft away from any object' type advice and it's like...#I've been doing this for like 4 years; radiator sits about 6-8 inches from my bed and the cat spot; wood never gets more warm than sunlight #like I'm no fucking guru on it; but please don't treat me like and idiot you need to teach when you haven't actually used this stuff #why the hell can't anyone trust me? I got myself a fucking house; you know? why is it always always always advice #I'll talk about a situation; be doing more or less all anyone can do; all you have to say is 'yeah fuck that asshole'#no no; advice on what I need to tell someone about how to deal with that asshole that's not as nuanced as what I'm already doing #you share your biggest fears and just get fucking advice that won't work on how you can fix them #...kinda makes me want to blow my brains out as much as the hunger does right now #wish someone would mimic me on this; cause I seem to know what I'm doing #'gee sorry to hear that; that sort of thing is hard to deal with; you're doing a good job getting through it'

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tonycries · 1 month

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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h.

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.

And then it’s all black.

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”

“It’s al-”

“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh.

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit.

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.

All for him.

It’s too much.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.

You.

And then he’s cumming.

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture.

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do.

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”

Except maybe those.

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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saetoru · 8 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ JUST YOURS — LYNEY.

contents. archon quest spoilers, reader finds out lyney is from the house of the hearth—and all the drama + betrayal that comes from that </3 so big rip </3 but it has a hopeful ending tho !!

lyney has knocked on your door three times today—you haven’t opened up once. you can’t.

“please,” you can hear his muffled voice, “i just want to talk. will you let me explain?”

magicians must always make their audience believe in the impossible, he’s always told you with that sweet, alluring little smile on his face that makes you hang onto every word of his. he’s right, you think—magicians are simply those who have mastered the art of deception, and lyney is no exception. he’s deceiving you even now, with that broken voice as if he’s the one who’s hurt.

word spreads fast in fontaine—lyney, your sweet, romantic, devoted lyney, is of the house of the hearth. his trial mortifies you at first—but deep down, you know in your heart that lyney is no murderer. and then, in an instant, you’re not so sure anymore when somehow, within less than a day, lady furina is able to uncover more about your boyfriend than you have in months.

lyney is of the house of the hearth. he’s of the fatui.

“i’m sorry,” you hear a thud of his forehead resting against the door, “you’re mad, i know—but let me explain the—”

for the first time all day, you open the door. you’re not sure why—somehow, you need him to know you’re not just mad. you’ve been mad at lyney before, being mad is easy. being mad means he’ll pull a rose from behind your ear and make you smile against your will. being mad means you’ll realize you can’t stay mad at him for long, not when he looks at you like that. being mad is temporary—but this? this feels permanent.

you’re not mad at lyney. you simply can’t trust him anymore, and he needs to know that, needs to understand that he should stay away and never find you again.

you’re glaring at him, staring at the face that has always done nothing but make you smile. you wonder, for a small, doubtful moment, if every smile lyney has ever pulled from you has been built off of pure lies and half truths and withheld information.

you’ve given him every bit of yourself, told him everything there is to tell and then some, let him discover things himself that no one has yet to learn. and lyney, as you learn, is someone you can’t even begin to know, not really—maybe not ever.

“you’re with the fatui,” your voice is cold, but you know he can hear the waver—you hate him for that. for being able to pick you apart when you don’t know the first thing about him, “you’ve lied to me all this time—”

“i didn’t lie,” he says quickly, “i just…didn’t tell you everything—”

“that’s not any better,” you cut him off, finality in your voice that makes his eyes widen a fraction, “i have no business with someone of the—”

“wait,” his foot stops the door before it can close, stepping in despite your protests as he inches closer and closer. you take a step back every time—the hurt on his face is palpable. “can…can i explain? please?”

“explain what?” you furrow your eyebrows, “explain that you’re with the fatui? how is there any explaining that? how can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not bad—”

“i’m not,” he insists, “i’m not bad.”

lyney has never looked at you like that—like you’ve hurt him right where he’s most vulnerable, right where he’s weak and fragile and can’t bear to be hurt. you hate that you want to apologize for a moment, that you want to cradle his face and kiss the tremble off of his lips.

“then what are you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

“i’m trying to save people,” he croaks, “our organization has a lot of people—a lot of goals. father and i want to—”

“your father has hurt people,” you cut him off.

“father saved me,” he says firmly, “and lynette. she gave us a home. and she wants to save the people of this nation—”

“she’s taken advantage of your weakness and—”

“she did what no one else would for me and my family.”

“then go,” you spit, “go to her and do her bidding. but i can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re with the fatui.”

“even as a member of the house, my decisions are my own,” his hand grabs yours—you can’t find it in yourself to pull it away. it’s familiar, warm—it’s lyney. your lyney. “i’m doing what i believe is right. to break the prophecy.”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you admit, tired, defeated, “or who you are, frankly. but i’m tired of lies, lyney.”

“then i’ll tell you the truth,” his voice trembles, “anything you ask.”

“i’m not sure that’ll help,” you say quietly.

and then his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as he pulls you close. you want to push him away. you want to melt into his arms. you want to tell him to leave. you want to ask him to always stay.

lyney is of the house of the hearth, the fatui. but he’s also your lyney—the one who brings you flowers and tucks them behind your ear, the one who does tricks for children and makes them smile, the one who gives his heart and soul for his family to keep them safe.

you don’t know if the two can coexist as one, but you know despite it all, you still love lyney, and you don’t know if you can stop. the thought is haunting.

“i’ve always done what i believe is right,” he promises, “i’ve never hurt someone innocent. you have to know that much.”

“lyney—”

“i love you,” his voice breaks, “i’ve always loved you as just lyney. i promise.”

“i’m scared of who you are when you’re not just lyney,” you whisper—and you suppose you’re also weak, because your hand slips into his hair, stroking through the strands so that if it’s the last time, maybe you can commit the feeling of him to memory.

you can feel his tears fall onto your skin, and you can feel his fingers grip your shirt as he clings onto you, onto the last bit of hope that you’re his—that he’s yours. your lyney, the one you’ve always known and loved.

“i’m always just lyney,” he promises, “no matter who i’m with.”

“i just…need time,” you sniffle, “to think.”

“okay,” he says quietly. you can feel his lip quiver against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, “i’ll wait. however long you need, i’ll wait. i love you.”

“i know, lyney,” you sigh, caving and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. you savor the feeling—just in case you’ll never feel it again.

maybe you can—maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe lyney has always been yours, the one you think you know. you don’t know, but you hope you’ll find out.

i would forgive him i can’t lie to you no amount of fatui crimes could outweigh how badly i need to kiss this little shrimp of mine

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact angst

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inkskinned · 4 months

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she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

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Levi being separated from his wife for years after joining the scouts but finding his way back to her

Pairing: husband!Levi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,7k

Synopsis: Just before Erwin was about to catch you in the underground city, Levi begs you to stay behind and promises to return. Years pass, years in which he never reached out once. Until an unexptected visitor knocks on your door.

Warnings: heavy angst to comfort, the last part is not proofread so have mercy, please let me know what you think as this is the second aot fanfic I'm posting <3

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @levislegislation

Click here for a cute little spin off

You move with almost frightening speed around the countless buildings, escaping the hands of the blonde male behind you by razor’s edge. Why the hell are the survey corps so much stronger than the military police? So skilled with the 3D manoeuvre gear that it’s almost scary, haunting after you so fast that it’s getting harder and harder to escape their grasps. But everything is going according to plan, right? You need to get yourself caught, you need to join the survey crops, you-

“Move to the left. Just keep going and don’t look back. You are skilled enough to escape them alone.”

Your glossy eyes dart towards your husband in disbelief. No, he can’t be serious about what he just said. That would mean…

“But we’ll get separated”, you argue.

Levi is fully aware of what he’s asking from you. But given the neck-breaking speed and the skills of the people behind you, the risk of getting caught is greater than the benefit of staying together. And that man…Even though he promised you the world, Levi could tell by the sound of his voice that he isn’t trustworthy. He might go to hell, he might die in the process, but you.

There is absolutely no way in hell he’ll risk your life.

At least you’d be safe, even if it means he’ll be away from you for some time.

“I never intended on taking you with me, (y/n). If we’ll get separated, I will come and find you here. I promise.”

His words don’t make any sense while you shake your head in mistrust. But you agreed on going together, all four of you. Why would you stay behind, why would he even suggest something like that?

“(y/n), I don’t want to lose you because of a mission. Please, move left.”

You don’t know what to do, mind completely clouded by anger, fear and uncertainty. You would trust your husband with everything, laying your life right into his hands. But this? This means you might never see again, this means he’ll leave you here for who knows how long, this means your husband could lose his life for freedom.

“But what if I lose you?”

“You will never lose me. I promise I’ll come back to you, just trust me with this one. I love you, (y/n).”

You take a deep breath, the next intersection coming closer and closer. It’s time to make a decision.

Will you move left like Levi begged you to or will you move right and followi him like you initially planned?

With a load of gas you propel yourself past a building, moving with horrendous speed down the tight side streets of the underground.

One last glance. One last glance into the eyes of the man who is the only light in your life, one last glance into the cold blue eyes of the man who is now chasing after him.

“You better come back to me, Levi Ackerman”, you mutter to yourself while holding back bitter tears.

-a few years later-

“Take it or leave it. I will find someone else who’ll buy it.”

“Are you up on sale too?”

That’s enough. With a swift motion, you pierce through the man’s dirty hand with your knife before turning around and leaving his house in company of his pathetic screams.

It’s been years. Years since Levi go taken away from you by that blonde man with blue eyes, years since he promised that he’ll come back.

But he never did. With fast and skilled motions, you swing around, making your way back home before the military police starts getting on your nerves again.

Everything seems so cold since he left. Your worn-down house, the bed you used to share, your whole fucking life. Who knows what happened after they got caught. Are all of them still alive? Maybe something went wrong, maybe they die-

No. You shake your head vehemently. This is simply not possible. Levi Ackerman would never die through the hands of a titan, let alone a member of the survey corps. That’s absolutely impossible, unbelievable to say the least. Maybe he started a new life on the surface with his friends, lying under the sun right now while eating the most exquisite food.

Good for him. If you weren’t still stuck in this hell.

A few harsh knocks on the door rip you out of your dreams.

“Who the hell is this?”, you grumble to yourself.

You don’t expect any visitors today. To be exact, you never expected anyone to visit you. So who could this be? The man you threatened before? The military police officers you stole from? Whatever, you will figure it out somehow.

But when you open the door, you aren’t greeted by the face of a disgusting officer. No, you stare right into ice-blue eyes.

“When will you finally let me get her?”

He missed you every single day since you parted your way back then in the underground city. How are you? What are you doing? Are you even alive? Levi’s hands clenched into fist just by the thought of it. Countless lonely night that felt so empty without you by his side, countless people he lost during the process. If you knew what happened…

“Is a woman really that important to you? She must be someone really special if you’re still asking about her”, Erwin commented, staring at the captain sitting in front of him with eagle eyes.

Yes, he does remember you. The girl who took the left path back then, the only one him and his squad weren’t able to catch.

“She is my wife. If you don’t allow me to get her, I will quit my service”, Levi suddenly barked at his commander.

How unexpected. Even though Erwin could tell that you’ve meant something to him when he decided to leave you in the underground city, he never thought his relations to you would go that deep.

“Fine, if that’s what you wish I’ll go and escort her.”

“I will get her myself-“

“You have a job to do, remember? I will take Moblit with me, it shouldn’t take long, given she cooperates.”

Did he even have a choice? One look into Erwin’s face showed him more than urgent that this is nothing to be discussed. And even though he hates to admit it, somehow Erwin is right. These brats were unpredictable, along with Hange.

“Fine”, Levi finally grumbled.

As long as you’ll finally be back in his arms, he won’t complain.

“You”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your whole body begins to tremble in thick rage, eyes darting right through his spoiled soul. His eyes haunted you in your dreams, how he talked to your husband back then, how they pushed his gorgeous face into the dirt. You will never forgive him. No, nothing in the world could make you forgive the blonde man in front of you who stole your life away from you so cruel.

“Where is Levi?”

“Maybe if you calm down-“

“SHUT UP”, you immediately interrupt the other man behind him.

“You will pay for all these fucking years I had to live without him. You will pay for every sleepless night, for every tear that I cried. You will pay with your own pathetic life!”

With a swift motion, you lower the knife out of your sleeve, ready to hit his carotid artery with full force.

Until you suddenly fall to the ground, the last thing you are able to see being this asshole’s boots before everything turns black…

“I…hate…y-“

Silence, darkness, nothingness.

“You didn’t have to hit her this hard. Levi will definitely make you pay for punching his wife”, Erwin comments dryly before gently lifting your numb body over his shoulder.

“His wife, huh? No wonder she’s so feisty, what a pain in the ass”, Moblit remarks.

“I understand her anger. After all, I hid her husband for multiple years from her. Let’s see how she acts when she wakes up…”

-back at the base camp-

“Who’s this woman?”, Eren mumbles into his best friend’s ear, staring at the lifeless female body laying in front of Erwin’s feet.

“They just came back with her. But nobody seems to know who she is”, Armin clarifies.

Everything hurts. Your back, your head, your limbs feel like falling off every second. You feel like hit by a horse…Did the military police catch you? Did someone come for you? Impossible…

You rub your head, lids blinking against the harsh light. Where the hell are you? And why is it so damn bright here? This definitely isn’t the candle in the middle of your bedroom.

You lift your trembling limbs off the ground, groaning when a new wave of nausea rolls over you. God, why do you feel so bad? You can’t even remember what happened last. You were at the underground, you made a deal with that asshole, you returned home, it knocked.

It knocked.

Your eyes widen in pure horror when his face lights up in your head. He. He was there. The man who stole your life from you, the man who took your husband with him.

“I’m glad you’re awake, he should return every minute-“

“You.”

Your eyes roam around without an aim until his cold blue eyes meet yours.

“You took everything from me!” you scream on top of your lungs.

The air around you heats up immediately, all the voices quieting down in an instant when your trembling index finger darts towards commander Erwin Smith.

“You took my life from me, you stole my husband and now you kidnap me! I’ve had enough, you’ll pay for all your sins, for how miserable you made my life! Do you know how many lonely nights I begged for him to return, that I even started praying for him to come back home to me? You promised freedom but caged me to the underground in my hopeless dream of him returning someday!”

Again, you shoot towards him with your knife in your hand. Fuck, you hate the way hot tears start to sting in your eyes and take your sight, but you can’t help yourself. This man in front of you is the epitome of living hell, the reason you suffered all these goddamn years. You aim for his neck, ready to slice him open like a fish along with a toe-curling scream that escapes your trembling lips.

“Don’t.”

The sheer force of a pair of fingers wrapped around your wrist is enough to make you stop. This almost sounded like…

“Levi.”

“I have to explain all this to you calmly. Please put down your knife, (y/n).”

“You have some fucking nerve”, you mutter under your breath, eyes darting towards him for the first time in years.

He looks just like you remember him, figure roaming over you for a few inches, eyes as calm as the ocean, hair neatly trimmed. Yes, he is just as attractive as you remembered.

And alive.

And this is the first time you see him, after so many years.

“Where have you been all this time, huh?”, you cry out.

You free yourself out of his grasp, now storming towards him.

“What about the promise you made back then, that you’ll return to me?”

Your hands push against his firm chest harshly, fists slamming over and over against his tight muscles while all he does is standing there.

“You left me without saying goodbye, without even thinking about me twice. Do you know how much I cried that day, how much I missed my fucking husband?”

Tears stream down your face like a waterfall, voice so hoarse that it’s hard to cough out a single word that makes sense.

“Why didn’t you come back? Why did you leave me in the dark? Why-“

He can’t hold back any longer. Before you continue your ramblings, before you are able to hit him again, Levi wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed the simplicity of holding his wife in his arms.

“I love you, (y/n)”, he breathes against your ear.

You see stars, feel like fainting, want to push him away while all you want is to be held at the same time. Countless nights you imagined what it would be like to meet him again, countless nights you pondered about his life, where he might live, what he is doing.

And now he’s standing in front of you, pressing you tightly against his firm body while all you can do is break down and cry in his inviting arms.

“Back then, I have asked you to move left because I feared what lies behind the walls. And I was right, (y/n). The things I saw, the countless lives the titans took. Isabel and Furan, they… They died on our first expedition. It wasn’t safe to drag you into this world. Even if I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms again, I figured it would be easier to know you live as far away from the titans and me than being in danger…”

“You idiot”, you spit into the face you learned to love long ago.

“I would rather die by your side than live alone at the safest place. Don’t you understand that all I wanted was to be with you?”

Your words echo through his mind, the past years replaying themselves in front of his eyes like a movie. It’s been so damn long. He should have asked about getting you sooner, he should have moved hell and earth to get you out of the underground.

“I’m sorry about all those years, (y/n). You were the only thing on my mind this whole time, I was longing for your touch, for your presence. I wrote a list of things I want to show you. I know how much I’m asking for, but please forgive me, please be by my side right here and now.”

Is it really this simple? Is one look in his lovely face enough to forget all those years you’ve waited for him? Your heart pounds hard against your ribcage, all pairs of eyes seem to be set on you. What are you supposed to do?

“A simple sorry won’t take away all those years I’ve waited for you.”

Levi swallows hard, this usual cool composure slowly but surely breaking away. Fuck, he messed up. He should have gone after you immediately, he should have ignored Erwin’s advice. If you leave him right here on the spot…His eyes widen in thick fear. No, this would completely tear him apart. After all, you are his precious wife, the love of his life, the only reason he kept going despite all the people that died in front of his eyes.

“But I won’t live in the past with regrets. I was hoping forward for this day so long, let’s enjoy it.”

And then you return his hug, wrapping your arms around his ribcage like you used to. Levi lets himself fall into your touch, soaks in the decent smell of citrons on your clothes. God, how much he missed this, how much he missed you.

“We will never return to the underground, my darling. Your place is right here under the sun.”

You press your lips against his hungrily, soaking up this precious moment. This is exactly how you imagined your reunion. Maybe a few years earlier, maybe being escorted by himself. But god, you can’t help but get lost against his mouth, your fingers re-discovering the valleys of his well-toned body.

“Huh, what’s going on here? HUH, DID I MISS SOMETHING!?”

Levi slowly removes his lips from yours, cold eyes staring darkly behind you. You follow his gaze, looking directly into the way too near face someone wearing glasses.

“This is my wife, shitty four-eyes. Can you stop bothering her?”

“WHAT? You never mentioned anything about a wife! Oh, what a gorgeous woman she is! And you’re just as small as Levi himself. Huh, maybe that’s what comes with living under the ground, right? But don’t worry, you will be just fine here! Apart from some titans here and there, and maybe titan shifters and don’t forget those-“

“Shut.Up.”, Levi hisses through gritted teeth.

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sorryimananti-romantic · 3 months

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Guerrilla

serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader

he is a serial killer with morals okay almost a vigilante

dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.

genres and warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, violence warnings, atz as doctors cameos, some gory descriptions, twisted morals, past trauma, questionable stuff honestly esp yunho's intrusive thoughts, read at your own risk.

word count: ~27k

synopsis: you're a crime fiction writer and you move in with dr. jeong yunho despite his strange, strict house rules. he's very private and you don't mind that, but he's also very cold and unapproachable and you're determined to crack through his walls. little did you know your obsession with gore and crime would melt his heart. Soon, you find yourself tangled in lies, secrets and a detective from your past who suspects yunho and his gang as you navigate thru your relationship with him.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (i had a dream. we talked about it and this happened-)

“You know, if you could just help me bring my bags inside instead of staring at me like I’m about to commit a homicide, maybe you wouldn’t have to complain about the noise and not being able to focus on… whatever the heck you wanted to do.”

Yunho blinked. Was he hearing you right? When you cocked your head waiting for a response, he licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’m just worried about the amount of bags you’ve brought at this hour of night.”

The ungodly hours after midnight. You tucked your hair behind your ears before dragging one of the heavier bags to your room, the floorboard creaking unceremoniously. You heard the groan of your house owner who finally got up after a solid ten minutes of judging you and went to the porch to pick up a bag-

And almost fell on his knees.

“What the fuck did you put in here?”

“What do you think?” You asked, throwing the bag in your room and going to the porch, snatching the bag and dragging it yourself.

“A body?”

“Or two,” you muttered under your breath and again, Yunho thought he was hearing things. “It’s just my books. I thought I mentioned in the form that I’m an aspiring writer and would be coped up in my room reading or writing most hours of the day. I really won’t bother you much, just help me get my bags inside before the rain gets any worse. I don’t want my books getting ruined.”

Begrudgingly, Yunho obeyed, dragging two bags at once just to show you he wasn’t weak. You, however, did not bat an eye, much to his annoyance. After bringing in the last bags, he stood in your room looking around.

“I’m not sure this room is big enough for your books…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve lived in smaller rooms with more books,” you finally cracked a smile. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Jeong. I thought you’re usually doing night shifts?”

“I had a day off today and planned to sleep, but unfortunately, you disturbed my sleep.”

“You’re welcome,” you weren’t going to let him damper the mood. “Since you’re awake now, might as well tell me any rules about the house so I can finally go fix up a meal for myself. And an apology meal for you, though, as the owner of this house, you should be in the kitchen fixing something for your newly arrived housemate. But… I won’t complain.”

Yunho folded his arms, considering you. There was something about you that didn’t make him want to kill you in the most painful way, which was odd for him. He recalled the last time someone moved in with him and he almost dissected him alive. “Nice to meet you too, y/n. I’m trusting you read the rules before you decided to move in?”

“‘Minimal noise especially during the day, no intervening in each other’s business, an absolute no to bringing over people even if they are your family- if you have to, on a three-days notice, and… no getting to know each other. The workshop in the garage and the upper floor is off-limits.’ I believe I got them right?”

“You have an exceptional memory,” Yunho was impressed for once. “Why did you move here?”

“I’m sure you read my response in your form too, but to put it simply, I can’t afford a nicer place, though I’m curious why a doctor is living in such a dodgy little house in a shady town-”

“I, too, need to make ends meet,” Yunho explained even though he could have easily ignored your question. “Circumstances. Besides, I get a whole house instead of a cramped apartment in the city, and my workplace is close.”

“I know! Cramped apartments are suffocating. Even though I’ll only own a room here and share the floor, at least it’s a… house.”

Yunho nodded. “I’ll give you three days to settle down and break any rules except the ones mentioned in the form. Now, I understand that you can cook?”

“Always been a good cook,” you said proudly.

“We can share the kitchen expenses and if you cook enough for the both of us, I can take 40 percent off your rent. Fair offer, isn’t it?”

“Peculiar is what it is,” you told him. “But I won’t question you. If I have to cook, might as well for the both of us. Saves me money in the long run, and I need to save every penny I can.”

“Right. There are a few cabinets locked in the kitchen, please don’t try to open them. I can’t think of any other rules right now, but try to keep it down, will you? And again, the upper floor is absolutely off-limits.”

“Got it,” you nodded. “Let me know your usual schedule so I don’t think there’s a serial killer entering my apartment in the middle of the night.”

Once again, Yunho had to stop himself from twitching in surprise. “What’s your obsession with serial killers and murders? You’ve mentioned them numerous times in the past half an hour.”

“I think the rules go both ways, Dr. Jeong Yunho,” you smiled teasingly, opening one of the bags and taking a deep breath at the amount of books in it. “But if you have to know… my genres are crime fiction and mystery. I hope I don’t scare you away, especially if I ask you something odd about human anatomy.”

Yunho almost gaped at you before shaking his head and exiting your room, absolutely unnerved by you in a mere half an hour. It was crazy- usually, he was the one making people feel alarmed or discomposed, but you were an odd one for sure. However, as with every past housemate, he was sure you were going to get on his nerves and he would have to either bury your bones in the backyard- consequently breaking the ‘code’- or plan something elaborate and chase you out.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to be a pleasant person to share the house with. But when he opened the door at about 1am to a distraught looking girl that didn’t even reach his shoulders carrying six bags, some bigger than her… he wondered if he should kick you right out and remove the ad he had put in on a few websites looking for a ‘peaceful’ housemate. He was sure you must have some thoughts about him too- he wasn’t the most welcoming person and people would eventually get curious about his closed-off personality and start snooping around.

For now, Yunho peeked into your room from the stairs- you had your hands on your hips and were assessing the room, probably planning how you could fit everything in there. He checked the time- he needed to leave soon. Praying silently that you would just fall asleep or something instead of snooping around, he went to his room to get ready.

You, though, had no plans to sleep tonight. You needed to set your room and get some sleep so you could meet the deadline of your draft that was due this weekend- only three days away. You assessed the space in the room again- if you could move the bed to the corner, you could place your computer table and chair there which would be arriving in the morning. You could line the books along the rest of the walls on the floor. You didn’t need any fancy shelves. Thankfully, this room had its own closet so you wouldn’t need to worry about where to fit your clothes.

You exited the room into the living room space, wanting to get the bearings of this house. The toilet was right in front of your room and one of the reasons you moved into this dodgy house was that it was… a good house. A toilet all to yourself was a blessing, and upon checking it looked clean.

The living room wasn’t too big but it looked cosy. You noticed a lack of personal belongings and decided to add a few potted plants on the windows soon. There was no TV but you had a projector and if you moved the couch, you could have a whole plain wall which was perfect to watch dramas when Yunho would be away. The kitchen space was at the opposite end with a large countertop in between and it looked like Yunho had most of the kitchen appliances already.

And at the end where the main door was, there were stairs leading up to the doctor’s space. Off-limits. You wondered why he was so uptight but you figured that as long as he was letting you live almost for free in return for home-cooked meals and maintaining the house, you could tolerate him. It was strange if you thought about it but you didn’t have the luxury to overthink right now.

You finally had a place- better than an apartment, yet something you could afford. You found yourself smiling. You just need to meet your deadlines now and hopefully publish your book by the end of the year- before the publishers change their mind.

But first… coffee.

You went to your room to get the bottle of your favourite coffee blend, which was really a mixture from a few different brands that you had come up with after years of experimentation. You set two cups on the counter and checked the fridge for milk. You weren’t sure about the doctor’s preferences so you made a simple latte like your own. You were just finishing up when you heard the dull footsteps of him descending the stairs.

“I made coffee…” you trailed off- now that he was in a white button down and black slacks with his hair styled, it finally settled in.

Doctor Jeong Yunho was pretty damn attractive.

“Uh…” he looked around awkwardly before grabbing the mug and taking a sip, raising his brows in surprise. “This… is actually pretty good.”

You grinned. “My own blend.”

He made an impressed face and you took that opportunity to ask. “You don’t mind if I make a few changes to this floor, right? Nothing major, just a few plants here and there, maybe get a chair or two, move the furniture around to make space for the projector?”

“Isn’t it too early for that?” Yunho frowned. “I might kick you out before that. Or you might end up leaving-”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you dismissed. “What I mean is, I’m staying out of your way so you would have no reason to kick me out because I really, really cannot get a better deal than I got with you.”

“Sure, then,” he finished his coffee. “Do whatever you like as long as you stick to the rules. I’ll be on my way then.”

You relaxed, mind already buzzing with ideas as you headed towards your room to fix your draft.

—-------------------------------

The trial period Yunho had given you was over and you were now seated in the kitchen with your third cup of coffee since midnight, awaiting your judgement.

Really, you were telling yourself that you shouldn’t worry. If you had to be your own judge, you had done a spectacular job of staying out of the doctor’s way except when unavoidable- which was usually right before he left for work around midnight when you would both eat dinner, or his usual shift in the later hours of morning. He insisted that he was fine eating alone and you didn’t have to wait for him to eat your own dinner, and yes, he sounded like he could be anywhere but there, but you told him that if you were cooking for him, you’d rather he eat at least one meal with you. For what reason, you didn’t give and he didn’t ask.

You didn’t give because you may be a self-proclaimed good cook but you were also someone who was sensitive. And that meant that if Yunho didn’t like something you cooked, you would be ready to take constructive criticism and improve.

And he didn’t ask because he could see that you were a sensitive one. He knew the moment he told you off for filling the house with potted plants within one day and you almost teared up asking if he didn’t like the signs of life around the house. He actually almost laughed at that but when he realised you were serious, he told you he wouldn’t take care of the plants. You told him you wouldn’t expect him to because the plants were ‘your babies’ and had moved two houses with you already.

So yes, you stayed out of his way. You cooked for him. You cleaned the house quite a bit- so much that Yunho almost didn’t recognise his own porch because of how different it looked in the span of a few hours that he was absent from the house. He made a point of telling you right after that your trial period wasn’t up, and you made a point of retorting with how you were just waiting for him to give in, to which you earned a scowl. By now, you knew that the doctor was not very friendly- at least not immediately. You wondered if that was the reason why he had troubles with his past housemates.

When you heard the sound of keys jingling and the door unlocking, you straightened and started heating up the dinner- you kept it traditional today- rice, beef and a lot of side dishes. Perhaps, it was your last attempt to win him over, and your heart was beating loudly with anticipation. You never waited for him to come home and share a meal in the early hours of morning but today, you made an exception. You turned around to greet him-

Finding his clothes stained with what had to be blood. His hair was all messed up as well and he had a bruise on his cheek. You exhaled. “Looks like somebody had a long night shift.”

“What are you doing this early in the morning?” He took off his shoes that you noticed were quite muddy. It hadn’t rained in a few days so you briefly wondered where he had been, but you shook your head.

No questions asked. That was the rule.

“Prepared breakfast? For you,” you scratched your suddenly itchy neck. “For obvious reasons. Last attempt to bribe you before you announce your decision.”

Yunho scanned you for a few moments before he said, “I should change first.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “I’ll set the table in the meantime.”

Yunho nodded and went upstairs, going to the room at the end of the hallway and dumping his shirt and trousers in the washing machine, turning it on. He needed to get rid of the blood as soon as possible and detergent wouldn’t be enough so he grabbed a soap and rubbed the stains on his shirt for good measure- now, the clothes would wash themselves.

It was almost a mechanical routine now, he scoffed at how his hands worked on their own now. He went to his room, unlocking it and changing into sweats. Usually, he didn’t eat much before sleeping- after all, due to his night shifts, he slept for most hours of the day and breakfast wasn’t something he cared about, but the smell of beef was making his stomach rumble. He figured he could make an exception today.

By the time he joined you at the table, there were a variety of dishes in front of him and he raised a brow at you. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Of course I would,” you shrugged. “But I’ll be honest. I got most of these side dishes as a gift from one of my friends from work.”

Yunho nodded, thanking you for the meal and eating silently, waiting and waiting but you never asked him about his bloody clothes. Did you dismiss it because you thought it might be from a patient? Or because you simply didn’t care? Was he lucky then, having found you as his housemate? Because one of the qualities he needed in his housemate that he simply couldn’t have stated in the form was a lack of curiosity or inquisitiveness. It was different than being nosy- he could deal with nosy but not someone who would overstep their boundaries because they were curious.

It was why he was apprehensive of you at first. You were a writer. Writers had to be curious and inquisitive, and you were. He knew you were only beginning right now, but the few occasions you had been curious, he was thrown off. And for the right reasons-

“As a doctor, do you think it’s more painful to bleed to death or to drown?”

“As a doctor… do you think a sharp pencil stab to the jugular vein could be fatal?”

That was really all you ever asked him. His opinion as a doctor. You asked with such simplicity that he couldn’t help but stop whatever he was doing and really think about the answer-

“I personally think it’s more painful to drown. The water burns you from the inside. Bleeding to death… you stop feeling things at a certain point and it gets easier from there.”

“Well, it depends on the location of the stab but I reckon if it’s around the base of the neck, it could be fatal. But it would have to be embedded quite deep, and then extracted so a person can bleed to death. If it stays in, there’s no point.”

And his answers would earn him your satisfaction and suddenly, you would be muttering to yourself and going for your room, probably to note it down. He had done his research there too- if he was going to have you as his housemate, he needed to do a background check on you. He didn’t find anything odd in your socials- you tended to stay anonymous and most of your blogs were writing-focused. And when he snooped in your room while you were away grocery shopping, he only found various notes and books on crime and methods of serial killers. He was ashamed to admit he spent quite some time on that book and learned a lot.

So now, having finished the delicious breakfast (you really were a good cook) and finding you uninterested in his whereabouts and the aching bruise on his cheek, he finally cracked the first smile in three days.

“I’ll let you live if you take care of the house like you have been so far. And you really don’t need to wait for me during meals. The rules are still the same.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and laughed in relief. “Thank you. I’ll stick by the rules, and I’ll probably have dinner with you if I’m not busy- I don’t like eating alone, to be honest. You can pretend I’m not there if that’s what bothers you. Also…”

When Yunho urged you to continue, your shoulders relaxed in relief but your brows crunched in annoyance. “Do you have to bring your muddy shoes inside? I just cleaned.”

Yunho looked towards the doorway. “I can’t leave them out.”

“Well, I can’t have muddy shoes inside, so you’ll have to do something about it yourself or else I’ll be annoyed and have to clean them myself and you do not want me cleaning your shoes-”

“Okay,” Yunho waved a hand to shut you up. “I’ll take them off on the porch next time.”

“Good,” you folded your arms, considering him. “I think we’re good then.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that…”

“Well, now that we’ve settled everything, I hope you and I will get along,” you extended your hand and he warily shook it, aware of how small your hand was in his. “Now, since you’re a doctor, I must ask if you’ll take care of the loud bruise on your cheek before you sleep. We don’t want it looking worse than it already is.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured, and he couldn’t help but continue. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“I’ll admit that I’m curious, but I won’t break a rule- and I won’t be tricked into breaking one either,” you winked at him and once again, he found himself smiling. “I’ll just assume you had a bad day at work or a rough case. You must often get them as a… surgeon?”

He nodded and you started stacking the dishes. “You can go rest now. I’ve installed a clothesline in the backyard- I really wonder where you’ve been drying your clothes all this time, but I won’t ask. You should try hanging your clothes outside this time.”

For a moment, Yunho wondered if he should have kicked you out.

“I just have a question before you disappear,” you turned and he paused in his tracks, wondering if his stealth was worsening. “It’s an odd one, for my book, but… approximately how long would a healthy man suffer with a stab wound to this area-” you rubbed the left side of your stomach, “- given the weapon is an old 12-inch kitchen knife that’s been sharpened way too many times?”

For a moment, Yunho wondered if he had forgotten to lock the cabinet in the kitchen that contained all of his knives. “You’re uh… oddly specific.”

“I have to be,” you shrugged.

“Well…” Yunho rubbed his chin, thinking of all the patients and victims he had dealt with so far. “Can I sleep on it?”

—-----------------------

Your life was finally not falling apart, for once.

In fact, perhaps this was the calmest that things had been for a good few years now, you mused to yourself as you mopped the floor, your usual instrumental playlist on a considerable volume playing in the living room. Ever since you graduated and had to face the reality of navigating through life as an adult, mostly on your own, you had to tackle a lot of struggles and obstacles. Sure, things got better when you finally signed a contract with a publishing company and started writing for them, but whenever you thought things calmed down, there was always something happening to make you feel like everything was falling apart once again.

Like a few weeks ago when you had to move out of your apartment that you had lived in for three years because the owner decided to sell the building and every tenant had to empty their apartment on a rather short notice. You were compensated but that wasn’t enough because everything was so expensive now. You couldn’t go back to your hometown- if you went back, you would never be able to leave again. So you scoured the internet and found your current place.

And things were finally okay. You did not have to worry about rent- you were doing a good job at maintaining the house and feeding the owner proper meals and so far, he had no complaints with you (he told you if he ever did, he would make sure you knew). You were now able to keep up with your weekly deadlines and finally able to overcome your writer’s block- all thanks to Yunho.

Over the past two weeks, while you could not say that Yunho had warmed up to you, he was getting there alright. You could tell because he stopped complaining about you overcleaning- or perhaps, he admitted defeat. He also stopped protesting when you joined him for dinner before he left for work at night and it was then you would ask him all the questions you had- mostly injuries related, sometimes medical law, but you found that he was knowledgeable in legal law as well. He was never curious about why you asked him all your odd questions, but one day, he asked you what exactly you were writing.

“I’m writing about a female detective who’s assigned to a case of serial killings in her precinct. The serial killer is a strange one because he does not have a fixed method of killing and his victim pool has no pattern, and at first the detective believes that there is a group of them which may or may not be working together, but towards the end, I reveal that there was only one… and the serial killer was from the same station as her so he always knew what to avoid.”

And that was the only time Yunho looked remotely impressed with what you did- if you didn’t count the time he saw you carrying a tower of books and wondered how a tiny thing like you could carry so much. After that, whenever you told him about your progress during dinner (you insisted you needed to talk out loud about it and if he didn’t want to hear it, he could say so because you were used to talking to the walls) he would offer clarifications at least about the things that concerned him. You asked him if he had dealt with a lot of fatal wounds in surgery.

“When I was a beginner, that’s when I got the worst of them,” he admitted. “But I don’t work in the fancy hospitals anymore. With some of my colleagues, we opened our own private clinic. The hospital life wasn’t for me- at least not right now.”

That was all he offered about his personal life and you didn’t ask why he couldn’t handle a hospital life right now. Perhaps, he was going through some of his own troubles like you were too. He tended to spend most of his free time out anyway so you figured that medical practice wasn’t the only thing he was doing.

Plus, he had a thing for cars- old, beaten up cars that he would fix in his garage that he called his ‘workshop’. He would dedicate his weekend to those cars and would become so absorbed that he would forget to eat. One time, you made a smoothie for him because he had skipped his meal and when you went to the garage and cleared your throat, he appeared in your vision, all rough and messed up. You stifled your smile and raised the glass in your hand. He simply asked you to leave it in the corner and go away.

He forgot to drink that and you found it the next day in the same spot, to your dismay.

You sighed to yourself when you recalled that day, placing the mop next to the wall while you cleaned the window in the living room. You spotted a car in front of your neighbour’s house where the old couple lived and you figured it might finally be their son paying them a visit. You had actually met the couple while on your way to the convenience store and they asked you if the doctor was giving you any trouble.

“I don’t know why he couldn’t have a housemate for so long,” the old woman shook his head in worry. “He’s such a kind young man. He checks on us every weekend even though he is busy and he makes sure we go to our monthly checkups.”

“Really?” That was unexpected. “Sounds like a kind young man indeed.”

She laughed. “You must be a good person if you’ve stuck around for this long. If he gives you any trouble, just let me know and I’ll give him an earful, yeah?”

You let out a short laugh, wanting to tell her that it was probably the other way round, but it had you wondering why his previous housemates didn’t last long enough with him. He wasn’t a very strict person and the rules weren’t something one couldn’t obey. Was it because of his cold demeanour? You had to admit that he was very mysterious and sometimes, you wondered just what exactly he did other than his medical practice.

Maybe curiosity does kill the cat, so you would let it go.

You were just stacking the mops back in the shed when you heard the sound of Yunho’s bike- you could recognise the sound of his bike now- it wasn’t too loud like other bikes but had a deep sound. You turned to find him parking it in the garage and you checked your wristwatch.

“You’re… early today.”

It was half past four, the sun just starting to illuminate the sky. He usually came back when the sun was fully out. He took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair, scanning you.

“Yes, I am,” he got off the bike, not offering an explanation. You didn’t need one either. He simply nodded at you once in greeting before going inside-

Leaving a trail of muddy boot prints again.

Cursing at him, you grabbed the mop and started cleaning after him, noticing he took off his shoes on the porch this time. You made a face at the shoes, wishing you could have made it at him and picked them up and wiped them on the grass to get most of the mud off before setting them back on the porch. When you got inside, Yunho cleared his throat.

“You don’t have to take care of my shoes, I’ve said it multiple times-”

“I just cleaned,” you clenched your jaw, turning to him. “Look. You’ve got rules in this house, and as your housemate, I’ll state my rules too.”

“Oh?” He looked amused. “Please, carry on.”

“Wipe your shoes on the grass before you take them off on the porch,” you exhaled, a weight off your shoulders. “I hate it when I have just cleaned the entire house and you come from work with your muddy shoes trampling all over my hard work.”

“Trampling might be a strong word…”

“You get my point,” you glared at him and he straightened, nodding. This was the first time he saw you angry and-

He was trying his best not to laugh right now.

“Any other rules?” He managed to ask without cracking up.

“Just…” you looked around. “Oh yes, I’ve got one. When you wash your hands in the sink, you should wipe your hands with that towel-” you pointed at the twin bunny hand towels hanging by the hook you attached on the wall next to the sink. “You can use the blue one. I have the towel for the purpose that you don’t go around spreading a water trail after yourself.��

This time, Yunho turned around and finally let out the laugh he had been holding back and you stood gaping at him, wondering if you should congratulate yourself for finally making him laugh or if the bubbling thing in your throat was your anger worsening. “What? If you don’t like that, you can kick me out.”

“No,” he turned around to face you, looking down. “I’m… sorry. I won’t do that again, I’ll abide by the rules. You don’t have to get so angry-”

“I’m not angry-”

Yunho stifled another smile, shaking his head as if to stop himself from laughing again and you narrowed your eyes.

“You can laugh in front of me. I don’t bite.”

But perhaps, that was the wrong thing to say. His smile faded and he went back to being the same, cold doctor. “You should go to sleep now.”

Just like that, he dismissed you. He dismissed you like any other time you almost cracked through his cold, mysterious demeanour. And just like always, you let him dismiss you and left him alone.

He might not kick you out for setting these rules but if you continued to try to get him to break this wall he had built all around him… he would have no other option. Curiosity could kill you, you knew, but you were so curious about what kind of a person he was. You didn’t have many neighbours but the old couple insisted he was very kind and friendly when Yunho had been anything but friendly to you. He had been distant, unapproachable, sometimes talkative but rarely smiling like he had today. You refused to believe that this was who he was. He had the brightest smile and the most heartwarming laugh that you heard today, and you vowed to yourself that even though he might kick you out for crossing boundaries…

You would make him laugh. Slowly, and surely, you would break him.

—--------------------------

Yunho had had a few eventful days and perhaps, work was the only place he felt at home now, surrounded by all of his friends who knew him. Knew who he was. Knew and didn’t judge him for being the kind of person that he was. Sure, in his own home, he felt comfortable too (except for when a certain someone started nagging) but his true home was with his people.

And to find you pop up at his workplace without a notice made his eyes twitch in annoyance and realise that the urge to kill you might not be as strong as before but it was there alright.

“What are you doing here?” He said through gritted teeth, surprising not only the old lady from next door but also the staff who walked past you.

“Jeong Yunho, that is no way to talk to a lady!” The woman said, shaking her head in disappointment and when you saw Yunho’s features soften when he met her gaze, you scoffed. “She was kind enough to walk me here- I’m having a lot of trouble with my vision all of a sudden.”

“You should have called the ambulance then,” Yunho frowned, taking the woman’s hand and guiding her across the hallway, disappearing at the end and you pursed your lips, deciding to take a seat in the waiting area.

You looked around- the clinic was big enough and the staff had been kind. It looked like it ran well. There weren’t many people here right now- only a few patients in the waiting and you read the board to see that there were a number of doctors available- a gynaecologist, dentist, paediatrician, psychiatrist, nephrologist, eye specialist, ent specialist and orthopaedic surgeon. You were reading the names of all the doctors when you felt eyes on you and you saw a man in a lab coat watching you with mild amusement. You looked away but when you realised he was still staring, you raised a brow at him and he finally approached you.

“I happened to see your interaction with Yunho earlier, and couldn’t help but wonder if you were the new housemate we’ve heard so much about?”

You were rendered speechless- first of all, he seemed to be pretty damn close with Yunho. Either that or he was nosy, but you knew Yunho wasn’t the type to keep nosy people around. And then…

The housemate ‘we’ had heard so much about?

“Uh… You’re telling me that Dr. Jeong Yunho talks about me? Here? At his workplace? Who might you be?”

“I’m Dr. Jung Wooyoung,” he extended his hand and you shook it. “I’m the dentist here, and an old friend of Yunho’s. I don’t know if he mentioned but our friend group opened up this clinic here.”

“He mentioned colleagues, not friends,” you told him and he shook his head in disappointment. “But nice to meet you, doctor. I’m y/n, the housemate Yunho talks about a lot- all good things, I hope?”

Thus, Wooyoung started retelling every conversation he had with him about you and you found him very easy to talk to. There was just something about him that invited you to relax and let loose, and soon after you heard that Yunho had told them all about you being a nagger and a clean-freak weirdo writer, you were complaining about how Yunho was borderline mean to you and you found it hard to believe that he was the warm, kind and funny person that Wooyoung insisted he was.

“I mean… the lady that I brought with me? Our neighbour? I told her she was wrong when she said that Yunho was a kind young man, but you’re saying he’s the funny one? I haven’t seen him smile in days, Wooyoung.”

“He’ll get used to you in no time,” Wooyoung waved his hand in dismissal. “You just gotta keep trying. Me? I cracked him in two days.”

“No way,” you laughed. “I’ve only made him laugh once and it’s been about a month-”

“Haven’t you got patients waiting for you, Dr. Jung?”

You froze, turning around slowly to see a tense Yunho standing at the corner, watching you two for god knows how long. You were about to apologise to Wooyoung for keeping him back but Wooyoung scoffed at Yunho.

“I expected better from you, mate. I like this one- I’m taking her to Hongjoong’s room,” Wooyoung said, getting up and helping you up too, steering you by your shoulders towards the hallway even though you protested and when you looked back to catch a glimpse of Yunho, you caught him shaking his head in disappointment-

But he let out a chuckle. He probably thought you couldn’t see him. He probably laughed because of Wooyoung. But he was going to get so mad at you-

“Don’t worry, he won’t kick you out,” Wooyoung almost whispered, winking at you. “If he tries anything, you come to me, okay? I’ll handle him.”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“I would have taken you to Mingi, who’s Yunho’s oldest friend and would have given you tips on how to make Yunho give you the princess treatment, but he’s a little occupied right now so I’m taking you to Yunho’s second-oldest friend, Hongjoong.”

“When I accompanied the neighbour lady, I didn’t mean to intrude,” you paused in your tracks, looking at Wooyoung. “I’m not sure I should be here-”

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung assured you with a wide smile. “Relax. Yunho is not some big angry dude who’ll give you an earful at home. I’ll explain- and by now, he probably knows that I’m the one who’s basically kidnapped you.”

You laughed, allowing him to guide you to the eye specialist’s room and when you went inside, you saw the doctor packing his belongings. When he raised his head and brushed the dark strands away, he frowned at Wooyoung.

“The guest doesn’t look too pleased to be here, Wooyoung.”

“This is Yunho’s housemate,” Wooyoung grinned cheekily and Hongjoong said a loud ‘oh’, greeting you. “She’s the writer, Hongjoong. The crime fiction writer.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded. “I read your book when Yunho told us who you were- ‘In the Silent Hours’? Amazing read.”

You were genuinely touched. “Thank you so much. I wish I could say something, but Yunho hasn’t told me anything about you all.”

“We know,” he laughed. “He can be like that. I hope you had a good experience visiting us, though, and if you have any concerns, you know where to come.”

You looked at Wooyoung who was smiling proudly. “I have way too many questions but I won’t ask- Yunho has a ‘no interfering in personal lives’ policy,” you said and they laughed as if that was the funniest thing Yunho could have done. “I’ll drop by with cookies some day, if you’re okay with that?”

“Sounds great!” Wooyoung clapped.

“I should really get going now and catch up with Yunho on our neighbour’s condition,” you said, excusing yourself and they enthusiastically said goodbye, making you unable to contain your smile as you made your way back to the entrance where Yunho was discussing something with a nurse-

Goodness, he looked so fucking hot in that lab coat with his hair done. You were positive his outworldly proportions were what made a boring lab coat look so attractive-

He caught you staring and when he finished talking with the nurse, he slowly made his way to you.

“Where’s grandma?” You asked. “Did you find out what’s wrong?”

“We’ve referred her to the nearest hospital and called her family- it seems to be a case of infarct and she’s lucky that she’s still walking and functioning like normal save for her eyes.”

“Oh-”

“And thanks to you bringing her so soon, we’ve managed to minimise the damage,” Yunho actually smiled this time and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. “She’s resting right now- they’ll take care of her until her family comes.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Well…” Yunho checked the time and you did the same- it was almost 2 which meant he would be off soon. “It’s almost time to go home. You walked here?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I should get going then.”

When Yunho didn’t say anything, you said bye and turned to leave but then you heard the familiar voice of Wooyoung shout ‘take her home, don’t be an ass!’ and you stifled a grin, facing Yunho to assure you that you would be okay walking-

“I mean… we’re going to the same place, so… I could make an exception this time- like the other exceptions I’m making,” Yunho narrowed his eyes at you. “I will pretend today didn’t happen.”

“Oh, please, I’ll walk myself home-”

“I’m kidding,” Yunho smiled and you wondered if it was the place that made him comfortable enough to joke with you. “I would have considered dissecting you alive if you dropped by for no reason, but really, you did a good thing today. Think of it as returning the sentiment.”

“I really don’t get you,” you said, ignoring the reference he made to your last inquiry about dissections, waiting for him when he said he would get his things from his room. When he returned with his bag, helmet and without the lab coat, you followed him outside, repeating that. “I really don’t get you, Yunho. You seem like two different people in one body.”

“Perhaps, I am,” he mused. “And perhaps, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Here, wear this.”

He handed you his helmet and you took it, watching him get on his bike. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you can wear this, I’ll be fine-”

“Y/n,” he warned, the sudden change in his pitch sending butterflies in your stomach. “Just do as I say. Now, get on and hold on tight. I’m not slowing down for you.”

And perhaps, you should have insisted more on walking back home because he sped through the streets, making you grip his jacket tighter with each passing second, but it was so thrilling that when you reached home, you almost asked for a second round. You took off the helmet and laughed out loud, shaking your head.

“It’s not my first time riding on a bike with someone, but it’s been ages. Can I get another ride one day?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Yunho warned, helping you get off and then parking the bike in his garage. “And I hope you don’t have any questions regarding my workplace today.”

“Oh, I have many, but…” you motioned to your lips, zipping them shut and Yunho nodded in approval, unlocking the house and going inside first. You muttered ‘ass’ and went to the kitchen, heating up everything you had made today, mind still plagued with the events of today.

—-----------------------

You finished plating the steaks, satisfied at your presentation, the cheese perfectly melted on top of the fried crust. It smelled heavenly and since you now knew that Yunho was an actual food enthusiast and a surprisingly gentle and constructive critic, the simple chore of cooking became something you started looking forward to.

When you lived alone, you never made much effort to cook for yourself, but now, things were different. Your house owner was reducing your rent in exchange for home-cooked meals and you could deliver, so you waited for Yunho who would be coming downstairs any minute- he had informed you that he had to leave for work early today so you prepared accordingly, though anyone could tell you were putting more effort into the meals now.

And that was because ever since the day in Yunho’s clinic, it looked like he was finally starting to consider you more than a housemate. You couldn’t exactly call yourselves friends- the rules were still the same, but perhaps, Yunho liked that you were a person of your word. You never talked about that day in the hospital, neither did you ask him about his friends. You never asked him what happened if he came back home at an odd time or if he suddenly went out in the middle of the night. You both respected each other’s boundaries and perhaps, that was what made him start opening up to you.

It wasn’t much, no. It was the little things- him offering to help you arrange the grocery or join you when you watched netflix. He would scroll on his phone, occasionally comment on whatever you were watching and then leave. It was him actually cleaning after himself when he accidentally brought his muddy shoes inside- you gave him a thumbs-up to acknowledge his effort and even that got him flustered, which you thought was cute. And it was him actually taking interest in what you were writing instead of giving answers to the questions you asked.

When you heard his footsteps down the stairs, you pretended to be busy setting the table and he made an impressed face as he took a seat.

“This is new,” he commented, waiting for you to sit before he could dig in.

“I’ve had this recipe for a while and finally felt the urge to try it,” you told him. When he took the first bite and nodded in approval, you relaxed and began eating yourself.

“It’s been about two months. You don’t have to worry about what I think about your cooking. I’ll have it even if it doesn’t taste like something straight out of a restaurant.”

“Can’t tell if it’s a joke or not, but I like it when the other person starts first- when I cook,” you said. He understood. He always seemed to understand where you came from, which was why you both rarely ever disagreed on things.

“It’s really good,” he said. “Also, I wanted to, uh, inform you- there’s a fundraiser happening at the clinic to help the patients who can’t afford to pay their bills. If you would like to participate…”

You passed him a side-eye. “That’s not you talking, is it?”

“You’re right,” he looked guilty. “Wooyoung and Hongjoong forced me to. Something about… cookies?”

“Oh? They remember?”

“They said it’s a good opportunity to flaunt your baking skills if you’re up for it,” Yunho shook his head in thought. “I personally think it’s okay if you don’t want to bake for strangers-”

“When is it?”

“This weekend.”

“I can do it,” you said and when he looked like he was regretting asking you, you continued, “If you have some qualms about me personally attending it, I could just bake the cookies and you could take them with you.”

“No, it’s not that,” he scratched his neck. “It’s…”

“I know, and I don’t mind,” you assured him. “I agreed to your terms when I decided to move in here. I won’t interfere in your workspace if that is what you want-”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just… new for me too,” he admitted and you paused, a bit surprised to hear that. “I’ll let you know the timings-”

His gaze stuck on the kitchen counter for a few moments, prompting you to follow it and see that he was staring holes into the knife holder. You looked at Yunho again to make sure if that was what he was staring at and then his gaze went to the cabinet at the left end of the kitchen-

“Where did you get those knives?”

For a moment, you wondered if his change of tone was something you were imagining until he got up and slowly walked to the counter where the knife holder was, taking out one of the knives and examining it and then almost rushing towards the cabinet at the left end and opening it-

“I told you not to touch the locked cabinets, didn’t I?”

You would have perhaps trembled under his dark gaze if you weren’t so confused right now. “The locked cabinets, yes? But that one was unlocked?”

Yunho glared at you, knife still in his hand. “When did you check it?”

“I was looking for a knife strong enough to cut meat and I found this cabinet unlocked-”

“You used this knife to cut the meat?”

You could feel your hands get clammy by now, lower lip almost quivering and you hated how small your voice sounded when you said yes. He turned around and almost grunted in pain and you wondered just what you had done so wrong. Almost mechanically, you took another bite of your now cold steak. Yunho came back to his seat but instead of sitting, he dropped the knife on the table with a clang.

“You knew that cabinet used to be locked, didn’t you?” His loud voice shook you and you wondered what effect he would have if he shouted. “You keep breaking rules without breaking them-”

“Well it’s not my fault it was unlocked, okay?” You shouted this time, dropping your utensils on the table, frustrated. “You should have locked it properly then!”

Before he could respond, you stormed off to your room, shutting your door with a bang and he slumped down on his chair, trying to take deep breaths, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust he got when he looked at his half-eaten meal-

Because you fucking used his knife to make a meal for him.

The knife he had killed several people with.

How could he forget to lock it? He couldn’t recall not locking it, but still, how could he be so careless? How could he-

He heard a muffled sound- it was hard to miss because the house was usually very silent, but it had to be the sound of you sobbing and to his surprise, despite everything, something in his heart ached at the sound. Now that the cloud of anger was disappearing, he realised he had reacted irrationally. It was his fault for not making sure the cabinet with his murder weapons was locked. He kept them in the kitchen so it wouldn’t be suspicious if someone saw, but still, he should have hidden them well. And then what he said about you continuing to break rules when he himself invited you to the fundraiser-

Yes, Wooyoung suggested it but it was ultimately him who invited you. Yunho shook his head, disappointed in himself and wondered what to do. He came to the conclusion that for now, he needed to collect his thoughts while you sobbed. Shit, he thought. He must have scared you a lot. He had been told way too many times that he was a scary person when angry, and you did not have to see that when you spent an hour making him such a good meal.

So, disappointed and praying to the heavens above that you at least washed the knives properly before you used them, he resumed eating, almost gagging through the rest of the meal and when he was done and had one glass of cool water down his system to calm himself, he finally mustered the courage to get up, be a man and apologise to you.

The thing about you, he realised since you moved here, was that you were odd in a charming way. When he was looking for a housemate who would maintain the house and cook, he didn’t expect someone who was so dedicated to the task. You were busy too, but it looked like you had shifted your schedule to adjust to his. When he was gone to work, you slept, and when he came back, you would be waiting for him. You had added life to this house and he couldn’t believe how much his mood had changed now that the house looked like a home and he ate well.

You always gave and gave, expecting nothing in return. Perhaps, that’s just who you were. A good person, someone he could only wish to be. Someone who only wrote about horrible crimes instead of actually committing them. Someone who believed that her house owner was a respectable doctor and not a part-time serial killer as well.

That was debatable too. He had a purpose- he didn’t kill randomly. He only killed the people who deserved it. But that was a story for later- he couldn’t come into your room and tell you that reason, so what the hell was he doing standing in front of your door?

Yunho knocked gently and when you fell silent but didn’t respond, he knocked again.

“Y/n? Can I come in?”

Silence.

“Please?”

It was the gentleness in his voice that made you mutter a small yes, but only after you wiped your tears away. Truth be told, you weren’t that sensitive. You weren’t sure why you ended up throwing a tantrum and crying tonight but you figured it was long due now. You just wished you could explain to him without becoming a mess again-

And then he opened the door, looking worriedly at you. Worriedly, with his brows scrunched and actions hesitant and you found your vision getting blurry with tears again.

Dammit.

You looked away but from the corner of your eye you saw him look around the room once before hesitantly walking to where you were- on the floor, back resting against the bed. To your surprise, he sank down next to you, mirroring your position.

“I don’t know how to say it, but I’m sorry,” he almost whispered. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s my fault.”

A fresh stream of tears left your eyes and you weren’t sure if it was because of what happened earlier or what he said now. He couldn’t simply come inside your room and apologise and act like it wouldn’t affect you.

“Will you look at me?”

You wiped your tears and turned to face him, hesitating to meet his eyes. He understood. He shifted a bit towards you. “No explanation will make it better, and I’m ashamed that I reacted this way when it’s my fault that I left that cabinet unlocked. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you when you do so much for me without asking.”

“Yes,” your voice was quivering as much as your lips. “It’s your fault. I mean… I won’t ask but they are just knives, Yunho.”

And then you were crying again at the absurdity of it all and Yunho decided to take responsibility. He patted your head awkwardly and when you buried your head between your knees, he drew closer and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he attempted to sound sincere- he was, but you didn’t need to know that he was also stifling grins. “I scared you, right?”

“You did!” You cried. “Do you know how awful you look when you’re angry? And holding that knife? I thought you were going to stab me, Yunho.”

And this time, Yunho laughed heartily, making you laugh as well and push him away. He put a hand on the side of your face to cup it, still laughing as he said, “Please. Who would cook for me if I killed you?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “You have a lot of friends. Maybe one of them could cook for you.”

Yunho smiled at that, wiping your tears away and you suddenly felt conscious of the position you two were in, though he didn’t seem to realise it yet- or he was ignoring it, for once. “Sorry for almost yelling at you. And sorry for saying everything that I did.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, scanning his features now that you were looking at him up close for the first time. You noticed how warm his eyes could look, how soft his features actually were. He looked perfect, and if it weren’t for all the rules that would cost you a living space, you would have crossed a lot of boundaries by now. “I’m sure you had your reasons- and I should have asked when I found the cabinet unlocked.”

“But that doesn’t justify my behaviour one bit,” he shook his head. “Now, will you come out and finish your dinner?”

“But-”

“I have finished mine,” he told you. “And now you should too. I’ll go heat it up.”

With a pat to your cheek, he left the room, leaving you wrapped in his clean and manly scent. You sighed deeply, avoiding the mirror but wiping your face before taking a seat back at the table. You watched him set the table for you.

“You should go now,” you said. “You had to leave early. I’ve probably held you back a lot, I’m sorry-”

“I’ll go when you finish eating,” he insisted and you shot him a glare before picking up your fork.

“Just so you know,” you said as you took a bite, Yunho watching you earnestly. “I don’t usually become a crying mess like I just did. I’m stronger than that.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I am,” you glared at him again. “But I have my limit too. And today was all the pent up emotions from the previous two months.”

“All because of me, huh?”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself,” you teased. “I have other things to worry about too.”

“Of course you do,” he smiled.

“Yep. Like deadlines. And chores.”

“I hope the fundraiser won’t conflict with your deadline?”

“It won’t,” you told him. “You’re assuming I’ll attend.”

“I’ll make sure you do,” he said as you finished eating the last bite. “Because I’m the one who’s inviting you.”

Perhaps, this was another step towards a relationship more meaningful than housemates. Perhaps…

He was finally starting to consider you a friend.

—-------------------------------

Sometimes, Yunho wondered if it was a good decision to have you as his housemate.

It wasn’t that you were doing anything wrong, no. You were perfect. Goodness, you were perfect and he both loved and hated that. He had no idea how he got lucky with you- and he was not thinking about the fact that he got to have delicious meals at home or his place looked maintained.

It was about the things he could talk to you about, and hell, he didn’t even talk to you much. You probably had no idea how much he enjoyed your little questions about what was the most painful way to die or how you would kill someone in a certain context- it was the only time, perhaps, that he could be himself. He had spent a long time being convinced by his friends that he was not a bad person inside, and perhaps, they were right. But if they were…

Why did he enjoy talking to you about this stuff so much? Was it because these secrets were a burden to him, even though his friends knew? He never told them the details so perhaps, talking about killing people and hurting them in detail with you helped him in some twisted, cathartic way. Whatever it was, he was certain that he was getting addicted to watching you get impressed by his knowledge about such things he claimed was from years of his surgery practice, and he was also ashamedly addicted about how unhinged you sounded when you talked about the criminals in your fiction.

He was positive you couldn’t be an undercover-something. You couldn’t even hurt a fly, let alone a human. But the way you got excited when you talked in detail about a certain type of wound or method of torture… he often found himself zoning out and simply staring at you while you talked. Perhaps, he was the unhinged one, but he found you so attractive when you talked about what you loved writing about, and he was very close to asking you about what made you write such gory crime fiction novels. He would be breaking his own rule of not interfering in each other’s personal lives, but all rules be damned- he had to know what drove you to write all of this.

He was also pretty sure you weren’t as naive as you looked and probably found his habits weird. There was no way he could look redeemable after the knife incident. While you were gone the next day, he personally sanitised all of them because he was sure you were going to keep using those knives. He figured it turned out to be okay in the end- he had to change his murder weapons and method soon anyway. The police were starting to connect a few dots and he was sure they would come with a search warrant any day.

But perhaps, it was a good decision to have you in this house. If the police ever came, you could help with Yunho’s image. He felt guilty for using you for that purpose now that he was almost starting to care about you despite his principles but… in the end, it was all turning out to be good. All was well.

A bit too well, if he had to say, as he watched you get a little too chummy with Mingi and Wooyoung. You had done a good job at the fundraiser, having baked dozens of cookies and with some strange ribbon packaging you claimed was cute. He took care of the stall but you still brought a lot of decoration from the house to give it a personal touch, and not only the visitors but the staff were also impressed by your skills. Now that the event was done and you were wrapping up everything, Mingi and Wooyoung had casually joined you to help and to praise your work. Yunho didn’t miss the subtle glances they threw in his direction as if to tease him, and what could he say?

It was working.

“Are you gonna keep watching her like she’s your next target or are you going to make a move?”

Yunho shut his eyes in mild annoyance before looking to his right where Seonghwa stood with his trademark smile, nodding at the visitors who greeted him before they left. If anyone knew that behind the kind smile of the paeds doctor was one of the masterminds of their team that essentially rooted out the evil from the society…

“I’d rather watch. I know Mingi or Wooyoung will say something stupid if I approach them now.”

Seonghwa chuckled at that. “She’s done a good job today. She’s extraordinary, Yunho.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me that you two were discussing her novel when you took a break in the cafe.”

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “If she was a part of our team, we could actually succeed in working with the police.”

“How?”

“Think about it,” he bowed at one of the elders who passed by. “Imagine her next work is about what we do. Crime fiction to others, but something the police could use to clean up our mess, yeah?”

Once again, Yunho was in awe of the way Seonghwa’s mind worked. “The police would use that to arrest us.”

“Or they would turn a blind eye and let us do their dirty work. Two sides of the coin,” Seonghwa patted Yunho’s back and left to join Hongjoong and Yunho considered what he had said. When he saw Mingi pick something out of your hair, though, he decided he’d had enough.

“Ah, you’re here,” Wooyoung had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Y/n, now is your time to tell us if you’d like to change your houseowner.”

“Nah, I’m good,” you grinned, meeting Yunho’s eyes who looked pleased to hear that. “This one is good at pretending I don’t exist so sometimes I feel like I own the house myself.”

Mingi laughed loudly at that and Yunho smiled in embarrassment. He was guilty, yes. When you noticed his ears getting red, you laughed. “I’m just kidding. I really couldn’t have a better person as a housemate.”

“You’re lying,” Wooyoung smacked your arm playfully and you put the last of the things in your duffel bag.

“You won’t understand,” you simply told Wooyoung and chanced a glance at Yunho who no longer looked embarrassed and offered to take your bag. You let him and said your goodbyes to the two, waving at the rest of the staff who told you to come again (with baked treats) and you followed Yunho to the parking lot. This time, you had made sure he had a spare helmet and when he noticed you grinning, he asked you what was so funny.

“Nothing, I’m just excited to ride your bike again,” you giggled like a kid. “I kind of have a thing for bikes.”

And there it was. Another reason Yunho felt his heart pound rather uncharacteristically.

Perhaps, that was what prompted him to break one of his biggest rules and ask, “Would you like to have dinner somewhere… with me? You must be too tired to make dinner at home, and I know a quiet spot if you’re up for it- if not… that’s okay too, we could order something instead-”

He paused when he noticed your smile growing and he raised a brow in question. You wanted to tell him that he was rambling (which was cute as hell) but you only nodded. “I’d love to. You’re right, I’m tired- and a quiet spot sounds nice at this hour. I won’t say no to a longer bike ride too.”

Yunho chuckled at that as he put on his helmet. You followed and got on the bike behind him. “It’s not gonna be a short trip if you’re okay.”

“I’m good!” You assured and he told you to hang on tight as he started the heavy bike and started driving towards the darkening horizon. You put your hands on Yunho’s shoulders but as he sped on the emptier roads, you resorted to clutching the sides of his jacket and rested your head on his back, watching the view. You loved how quiet it got in your head at times like these and it almost made you wish this moment would never end.

You didn’t know how much time passed but finally, Yunho started slowing down and you looked up, finding yourself at the riverside. When he parked in an empty space, he got down first and helped you down. You took off your helmet and smoothened your hair, looking around. It seemed to be a remote spot that the tourists had not yet discovered and the pretty lightning bordering the sidewalk illuminated the benches at the distance and-

“Fried chicken!” You grinned. “I didn’t know what I was craving until I smelt it.”

Yunho smiled, motioning you to follow him. He led you inside where you placed your orders and you both decided to take one of the tables outside. There weren’t many people here anyway so you were going to enjoy the cool river breeze.

Now that you sat in front of him, it finally settled in that you were outside with Yunho for the first time. That he offered to take you out for dinner. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely dreamy with his dark hair falling messily on his forehead and his shoulder looking even broader in the black jacket he wore, and when he ran a hand through his hair, swiping it away from his forehead-

He met your eyes and you realised you had been staring. You awkwardly sipped your water and looked towards your left, urging yourself to focus on the sound of the waves instead of the sound of your erratic heartbeat. You cleared your throat. “How did you find this spot? It’s beautiful.”

“I used to live near here when I was little,” he smiled and you thought there was something sad about it.

“Oh, your parents must still live around here then?” You wondered and when his smile fell, you knew you had asked a question you shouldn’t have.

But to your surprise, he answered, “They passed away when I was in highschool. I had to move out soon, so I couldn’t come back here for a good few years.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry to hear that,” you said and he told you it was okay. “I can tell why this place is close to your heart though. It’s wonderful here.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said and you were glad your chicken arrived at that moment, breaking the awkwardness from your conversation. “How did today go? You’re quite popular at the clinic now.”

You grinned, “Nobody can resist chocolate chip cookies, apparently. Wooyoung said I helped raise a lot of money.”

“You did,” Yunho confirmed and you both took a bite of the chicken. You groaned in appreciation.

“I don’t know if it's the river or the vibe,” you said after swallowing the first bite. “But doesn’t the chicken taste so good here?”

“There’s a reason I brought you here,” he laughed at the way you stared at the chicken. “Good food and a killer view.”

It took you both a few pieces to get comfortable and this time, when you asked him about the clinic and all his friends, he answered all your questions. You learned that Yunho and Mingi were school friends and Yunho met Hongjoong at the end of highschool. Their group expanded over the years and today, after years of studying and working together, they had their own place.

Yunho also asked you about your recent progress and you complained about your publishers. He then asked where you were originally from and he learned that you were from a small town at the outskirts of the city and had a younger brother but your relationship with your family was a bit strained so you didn’t visit them often. He also found that you didn’t have many friends, just a few you met annually. He realised then why it was so easy for you to get comfortable with Wooyoung and Mingi- perhaps, they reminded you of your friends, or maybe you missed normal human interaction.

As you finished eating, you asked him what urged him to really bring you here tonight. Yunho looked at you as if to make you reconsider your question but when you held your front, he finally gave in. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For everything,” he shrugged. “You do a lot. I haven’t done anything in return.”

“Uh, forty percent off?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Just accept the sentiment and shut up.”

“Yes sir,” you saluted and he paid the bill, insisting it was his treat even though you asked to split the bill. “Well, if you won’t let me pay, maybe we can walk a little before we go?”

“That makes no sense, but okay,” Yunho said, shaking his head in amusement and you took the lead, going towards the edge to peek down at the river and then you started your stroll.

“Isn’t it nice to get some fresh air?” You commented, taking a deep breath. “No worries, just the river and us.”

Yunho nodded silently and you grinned. “If you have more spots like these… don’t hide them from me.”

“Just this one,” he admitted and you nodded, satisfied. “What about you? Do you have a spot like this?”

You had… until everything went horribly wrong. You had a place so close to your heart that you hadn’t visited in years-

“You okay?” Yunho asked worriedly, having noticed your smile drop.

“Uh, yeah,” you pursed your lips. “I had one. I don’t go there anymore- bad memories.”

“Ah… sorry I asked-”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “If I grow the guts one day… I’ll take you there.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Just shut up and accept the offer,” you winked at him and he grinned at your statement. You noticed you had already walked around the area, the parking lot in your vision now. Before you could walk towards it, Yunho called your name, making you pause in your tracks.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“Did you mean it when you said… earlier at the clinic…” Yunho put his hands in his pockets awkwardly, trying to phrase it better. “When you-”

“When I said you were a good housemate?” You asked, internally smiling because you just knew he would end up asking you to elaborate. “I meant it.”

“Why? I have been anything but nice.”

“That’s a lie,” you pointed out. “Just because you have a few rules you’re strict about doesn’t mean you’re not nice company when you’re in a good mood. And you answer all my weird questions without judgement!” You clapped your hands. “What more could I ask for?”

When you saw that he didn’t look convinced, you took a deep breath. “To be honest, my life was falling apart before I moved in with you. Everything started going wrong at the same time. It was too much and I really thought I would have to go back to my hometown- and I would go anywhere but there. So when we made a deal? Yes, I thought you were strange at first but I couldn’t complain, and now that we’ve… warmed up to each other a bit, you’re not bad company at all, Yunho. You may still be an asshole about your rules,” you laughed and he joined, the corners of his lips curving downwards- was he flustered? “But I can see why the people at the clinic like you. You’re quite dependable.”

“That’s…”

“Too much?” You laughed. “In short, you gave me a nice deal and my life is finally back to normal, and you’re a good person, you idiot. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I think you’re getting a little too comfortable with me though…”

“Yeah?” You walked towards the bike. “Says the guy who basically took me on a date.”

And there it was again- the flustered smile of his that was so endearing, the ears turning red and the nervous laugh as he wondered what to do, where to look. You laughed out loud, finding it quite funny.

“You’re a very easy prey, Dr. Jeong,” you teased. “Quite easy to get to.”

“Did you really think of this as a date?” He held his helmet, waiting for your answer and you thought about it.

“Platonic date?” You wondered. “Outing? Icebreaking party? Whatever you wanna name it…”

You faltered when he stepped closer and looked down at you, scanning your face. Suddenly, you were so conscious of the proximity between you two. The dim lights made his gaze look darker and you wished you could take a peak in his mind. He brought his hand up and tucked your hair behind your ear ever so gently, lightly caressing your cheek-

And then he poked you in the middle of the forehead, making you wince out loud.

“I’m still the grumpy mysterious owner,” he quoted what you had said to Wooyoung today and you gaped at him, wondering if he had heard the entirety of the conversation. “So don’t get too ahead of yourself, okay?”

You rubbed your forehead, muttering okay and complaining about how he could have just said so. But when you wore your helmet and settled down behind him, clutching at the sides of his jacket, he held your hands in his and you couldn’t even digest how his big hands engulfed your small ones before he wrapped your arms around his waist.

“It’s better this way- I’m speeding,” he said.

“I really don’t get you, Yunho,” you told him and he cast you a glance before starting to drive, speeding as promised. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared if you held on to the sides of his jacket like earlier or his shoulders for dear life but…

But you wouldn’t complain. So you rested your head against his back again, bodies flush against each other and you let yourself feel whatever you were feeling for the ride back home.

—----------------------------

It was a good day today- somewhat productive because you were almost done writing your book and the editor was pleased with your work too. Yunho was having dinner with his colleagues tonight so you decided not to cook and just have the leftovers from yesterday for dinner then and went to your room to finally sort out the mess you had been avoiding ever since you moved in-

The books.

While you had lined all your books along the walls, creating towers of them that you were scared would one day fall on you if you ever made a clumsy mistake, you had realised that perhaps it was time you let go of some of the books. You could already feel your heart being broken at the thought but your room was starting to look too congested compared to the rest of the spacious house so you would have to make a little sacrifice.

So you spent hours sorting through the books and almost didn’t hear Yunho coming downstairs until he knocked on your room, eyes widening at the books around you.

“Yeah, I know I’m a mess,” you said. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, laughing in what seemed to be shock. “Do you need… help?”

“No, I’m just sorting them out,” you dismissed, though surprised at the offer. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Yunho was still lingering at the doorway. “Well, I don’t know when I’ll be back, so…”

“Have fun,” you looked at him, grinning. “I’ll be fine. This is something I do annually.”

“If you say so. Don’t get lost in there,” he teased and you rolled your eyes, shooing him away.

And that was that. You didn’t even realise how much time passed- you kept getting distracted as you held each book in hand and recalled the memories associated with it. It was only when the doorbell rang that you frowned, checking the clock. It was 09:47 pm- who could it be? Not Yunho- he had his keys. Maybe the woman from next door?

But when you opened the door to two grown men with badges around their necks, you did a quick scan, realising two things- that they were detectives, and one of the faces was way too familiar.

“Good evening, miss,” the younger one said. “We’re Detectives Lee and Seo from the station-”

“Y/n?” The older one- the familiar face called your name and suddenly, it clicked-

It clicked. Everything you had buried deep inside you, somewhere so deep that you hadn’t thought about it in perhaps a year, was suddenly out and washing over you like a wave of cold water. Everything from about two decades ago started flashing in front of your eyes and you gulped down the thing stuck in your throat with immense effort.

“Detective Seo?” Your voice sounded small even to your ears.

“It’s been a while,” he looked as confused as you. “I didn’t expect to see you here- doesn’t this house belong to a Doctor Jeong Yunho?”

“You’re right,” you told him. “I live on the first floor on rent.”

“I see… Can we come in then?”

“If you’re here to meet Dr. Jeong, he’s not home right now-”

“We can wait,” he told you. “Besides… it’s been a while- won’t you invite us for tea?”

“You can’t just visit so late at night and expect tea,” you folded your arms, finally getting a grip. “What is the purpose of your visit, really?”

“We really needed a statement, or anything from the doctor,” Detective Seo said. “Let us wait for him for half an hour, and then we’ll leave.”

You considered kicking them out but then figured they could wait. Yunho would probably be late and they would have to go back after half an hour without anything. Plus, it didn’t look like Detective Seo was about to budge anytime soon. The other detective also looked intrigued and you gave in, allowing them to the living room though just like two decades ago, Detective Seo made a point of roaming around-

“That your room?” He pointed at the mess of books and you stifled the urge to pass a biting remark.

“Yes, I was a little busy as you can probably see. Please, take a seat.”

While you asked Detective Lee if he would like some tea, you kept an eye on the older detective who was now looking around the living room. You turned on the kettle- there was no way you were going to serve them the fancier teas you had. They would have to make do with teabags.

“How long since you moved here?”

“Is that related to your current investigation?” You asked and he scoffed.

“Come on, y/n. Don’t act like we’re strangers here. Are you still in contact with your family?”

And there it was.

“Not really,” you simply said. “I moved out for college and only visit annually.”

“How’s your mother doing?”

Your mother. Your brother. The people who destroyed you.

“She’s okay, probably,” you said. Your voice was already starting to crack, and that was not a good sign. The kettle turned off and you poured the boiling water carefully into the cups, wondering if Yunho returning early would make things better or worse.

“I moved here around that time too,” he said, taking the cup from you with thanks and after giving the other to Detective Lee, you went to stand near the kitchen, folding your arms again. “I visit a lot though. I heard your brother got into a good college.”

“Yeah, well,” you pursed your lips. “I suppose he did.”

“Do you still blame yourself for what happened back then?”

You pretended to not hear that question and asked the detective to take a seat. It was getting annoying now that he walked casually towards the kitchen, scanning the notes stuck on the fridge- Yunho’s “eat your dinner pls” that you only noticed now, your to-do list and grocery list, and the silly magnets. He made a face and placed his empty cup on the sink-

And then he spotted the knife holder.

“That’s a lot of knives,” he commented.

“I cook. A lot,” you said, wishing you had made that teabag tea for yourself too- anything to keep you from squirming. The detective looked at you suspiciously before taking his hand out of his pocket-

“Do not touch my knives, Detective,” you glared at him. “Can you please get out of the kitchen and wait in the living room?”

“I’m just looking,” he dismissed you and to your annoyance, took out one of the knives to examine, and then the other, then the other-

“I said, do not touch my knives.”

Yunho, who was standing outside the house near the kitchen window that was slightly ajar so he could hear everything, felt his heart swell in pride and admiration- he had never heard you state anything as strongly before. He contained in his sigh of relief, wondering if now was the right time to barge in.

Truth be told, he had spotted their car as soon as he entered the street and at first he thought that you had broken one of the rules and invited someone but upon a closer look, he realised with dread that the car belonged to the detectives who had just recently connected one of the cases with his clinic. He parked his bike in the garage and when he heard voices from the kitchen window, he went to eavesdrop and realised that they had just entered.

“No need to get so angry over some kitchen knives,” Detective Seo’s voice was stern. “What do you need so many for anyway? Are they yours?”

“I’m the only one who can cook,” you were seething now. “And what’s it to you?”

“Well, this one looks oddly familiar.”

“Yeah? It’s for cutting vegetables, Detective. I bet your wife owns it too- if you have one. That one’s for dicing, the one on top for fish because I feel like it remains stinky so it’s only for fish. You have a problem with that?”

Yunho stifled a smile- you were rambling now. He wondered why you didn’t simply tell them that they were his knives originally. He was positive the detectives would be connecting the dots right away and going back for an arrest warrant-

“Well, you see,” Detective Seo picked the longest knife out. “This one?”

“For meat,” you muttered.

“This one matches the murder weapon in the case we’re investigating,” he looked at you. “12 inches, dull but sharpened far too many times.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed. “So someone’s committed murder with a kitchen knife? They’re a genius.”

“How so?”

“Who doesn’t own a kitchen knife?” You almost cried. “They’re probably making a fool out of you, go back to your home and look in your kitchen. You probably have a 12 inch dull meat knife too.”

“How would you know?” Detective Lee asked this time. “That they’re making a fool out of us?”

“Why else would they use such an inconvenient weapon? Either for the thrill, or to make a fool out of you. Or both. Just… put the knife back, okay?”

“You’ve always been an odd one, and you always knew way too much,” Detective Seo put the knife back but narrowed his eyes at you. “Where were you on the 17th around midnight?”

“Around midnight, every day of every year for the past few years, I’ve been home. And I hope you go raiding everyone’s kitchen now that you know what your murder weapon looks like. Also, why are you even here? To investigate me? Again?”

“We came for Dr. Jeong-”

“You think he goes around committing murder only to operate on them later in his clinic? He’s a doctor, for Christ’s sake,” you shut your eyes, feeling a burning sensation in both your throat and eyes. “Please, leave. You can meet Dr. Jeong elsewhere- I’ll ask him to contact you.”

“And why are you getting so jittery?” Detective Seo asked. “Is there something you’re hiding again? Someone you’re protecting again? Or are you just protecting yourself-”

Yunho couldn’t take it anymore- he’d heard enough, and the whimper that left you made his vision dark for a moment. Rushing to the front door, he unlocked it and entered, shutting it a bit loudly to prove a point-

And saw you standing in the middle of the room, curling in on yourself, eyes weary. If hearing you sound like that wasn’t enough, having to look at you in this state was worse and he wished he had acted earlier. He didn’t know what took over him but he rushed to you and wrapped you in his arms-

And when you buried your face in his chest, relaxing instantly in his grasp, red hot anger ran through his veins as he assessed the detectives who stood awkwardly around him.

“How dare you make my girl cry?” He almost growled, wrapping his arms tighter, almost possessively around you. “What are you doing here?”

Detective Seo shook his head in disbelief and Detective Lee took the lead. “We came to talk to you about a few things- it’s very hard to reach you-”

“So you come barging into my house and bombard someone unrelated with questions and make her cry?” Yunho scoffed. “A phone call? Summoning me to the station? Or at least a search warrant, which I bet you don’t have, just like before. Shall I report you for misconduct?”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Detective Seo finally butted in. “Y/n and I were just catching up- we’re actually acquaintances-”

You shook your head in Yunho’s grasp to let him know that you did not want to be a part of this ‘catching up’ and Yunho patted your back.

“She says otherwise,” Yunho caressed your hair. “I don’t care if you’ve met before. You’re clearly unwanted. Please, leave. You have my number, you can contact me later, but do not make the mistake of coming here again. And do not try to make contact with her again.”

Shrugging, the detectives left, Detective Lee muttering a silent apology on behalf of them both. When you heard the doors sound shut, you tried getting out of Yunho’s grasp to let him know he didn’t need to do that anymore-

But he only deepened the hug, leaning down this time to hold you better and you sighed at that. He rocked you gently back and forth, all the while caressing your head gently as if he meant to lull you to some calm space- and oh, was he successful. You were no longer crying.

Hesitantly, he broke away a bit to see if you were okay. Your eyes fluttered open, a bit red from crying and he cupped your face, wiping your tears.

“Why did you let them in, y/n?”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured you. “Did they force themselves inside?”

“Not really, but they were insisting on coming inside and waiting,” you sniffed. “Detective Seo- the older one… he knows me from when I was a kid and he started to get a bit too comfortable-”

“I know,” he told you and when you frowned in confusion, he said, “I actually heard a bit of it while I was parking.”

“A bit?”

“Most of it,” he admitted, breaking into a smile. “You did not have to defend my kitchen knives with all your might, y/n.”

You chuckled at that. “I don’t know, I got so angry! He kept walking around and it was annoying me so much- I thought giving him tea would make him sit, but no, he had to walk around with a cup in his hand-”

Yunho shook with laughter, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re too adorable at times.”

“And… I can’t believe I’m hearing the word adorable come out of your mouth,” you looked at him in disbelief. “Who are you? And where is Dr. Jeong?”

“It’s just Yunho,” he smiled and you smiled back, spending a moment just looking at him and realising that you were still way too close, in his arms, your heart fluttering uncontrollably.

“Well… just Yunho,” you said, your hands on his waist feeling clammy. “Thank you for coming at the right time. And thank you for… what you did.”

Yunho took a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

You pursed your lips, looking away. You could not answer that, because even if you lied to him, you would break down anyway. Detective Seo had opened the dam of unwanted, ugly memories and you were definitely not okay. You wouldn’t be for a while now-

But it looked like Yunho had made it his life’s mission to make sure you would feel okay. He brought you back in a hug and this time, you didn’t cry. You simply wrapped your arms around his waist better and listened to the sound of his heartbeat which somehow calmed you. To your surprise, he planted a kiss on the top of your head before he squeezed you in assurance.

You broke away to look at him. “What’s got you so… clingy and fluffy all of a sudden? Not that I don’t like it, but…”

Yunho tucked your hair away from your face, kissing your forehead this time and pretending he hadn’t heard that. It wasn’t the first time he got a closer look at you yet he committed everything to memory as if it was his first time seeing you. He couldn’t answer your question either, because…

He was pretty sure he had fallen for you a little when he heard you earlier. The way you never let the detectives think about him for even a second when you were being cornered with the knives- he was absolutely sure that you had not done that unintentionally. Sure, he had initially thought that if he ever got in trouble with the police, you could make a good cover, but now you had protected him on purpose. He would ask you about that, but first…

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Uh… no. I forgot.”

Yunho shook his head in disappointment. “I go away for one meal and you forget to eat.”

You pouted and he led you to the chair, making you sit. He poured a glass of water for you and after you drank it, he asked if you made something today. You told him you didn’t cook today and he sighed.

“So you only cook for me?”

“I like cooking… and I like cooking for you,” you pouted again, feeling exposed.

“But not cooking for yourself?” Yunho asked, making you look at him. “Why won’t you cook for yourself?”

You shrugged. You didn’t have an answer for that.

“Well, I’m not a good cook, but I’ll see what I can do…” he got up and you told him he did not have to, that what he did for you tonight was enough, but he told you to shut up and opened the fridge, taking out the kimchi and then looking through the cabinets-

“Ramyeon sounds good? That’s one thing I can cook well,” he grinned.

You nodded, getting comfortable and watching him roll his sleeves before he washed his hands in the sink, drying them with the blue bunny towel and then you stopped noticing what he was doing and instead noticed the veins on his arms, the faded scar near the elbow that probably ran up his upper arm, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck-

And those beautiful, beautiful hands that were now setting the pot on the table. You blinked, coming back to reality, and thanked him for the meal. He watched you eat for a few moments before he said, “I’m sorry you had to go through what you did today. It’s my fault.”

“Yunho,” you sighed, “It’s not.”

“It is,” he shook his head. “The detectives seemed to have created some ambiguous connection between me and their recent murder case. The victim used to be my patient, so they’ve been trying to visit me for a while but I kept putting it off- I really don’t like when they visit my workplace-”

“Of course,” you nodded. “No one would like that. You don’t have to explain it to me, Yunho. You don’t have to tell me anything-”

“Forget the rules,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I want to explain because you can’t just put yourself between me and the detectives. How could you try to protect me without knowing what’s going on? And don’t try to deny that you weren’t doing exactly that.”

You took a bite and thought about it while you chewed. Once you swallowed, you answered. “I’ve known Detective Seo for twenty years. I’ve known you for what? Four months? Five? Guess who I trust more out of the two.”

Yunho looked away, somewhat in disbelief but again, overwhelmed by the way his heart was fluttering and his stomach was in knots. “Even when I’ve given you nothing?”

“It’s enough- I don’t need to hear your life story to trust you,” you finished eating the noodles. “I know who you are, and that’s enough.”

Yunho sighed internally- Wooyoung had warned him of this. He had practically manifested it. He had told Yunho that the way he talked about you and the way he treated you were very different and he needed to start manning up and ignoring whatever he was feeling inside. That had been in the earlier months. And now?

You claimed you knew him. What did you know, really? The person who set strict rules and got angry when he thought you broke one of them and made you cry? The doctor who got angry at you for bringing a patient to his clinic and later thanking you because you saved her from something worse? The person who took you to the place he loved yet told you nothing about it? What did you really know-

“I know you,” you began and Yunho wondered if he had said those thoughts out loud. “You’re the person who I thought was an asshole but I trusted because you… you have the kindest eyes. Even when you almost stabbed me to death-”

“That’s on you overthinking-”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” you laughed. “But… you get what I mean. I don’t need to know who you were, I know who you are. The doctor who’s too busy to take care of himself and his space. The person who’s everyone’s favourite at the clinic. The house owner who’s actually quite funny but takes a while to open up. The friend who helps me with my work in so many more ways than he realises. And… the man who is surprisingly protective and caring.”

Yunho buried his face in his hands- he couldn’t look at you now. He couldn’t-

“I don’t know why you keep holding yourself back, but can I ask what prompted you to do whatever you did earlier? You didn’t have to hug me like that,” you drank the rest of the water in the glass, waiting but he didn’t look at you. “You didn’t have to call me ‘your girl’ and shoo them away. You can’t just do things like that and expect me to remain normal and pretend it didn’t happen the next day- because I’ve had enough too. I’ve had enough of you staring at me like I’m either someone you want to kill or someone you want to… do things to. Also, while we’re talking about that- and yes, I’m rambing, but you really need to stop touching me so casually- I hope you have a rule about that somewhere too-”

Yunho finally removed his hands from his face and locked eyes with you. When you didn’t look away, wondering if you were going to regret this, he got up, making your heart sink thinking you really had made an awful mistake this time-

And then he leaned down towards you and to your utter surprise, he pecked your lips gently- once, twice. And then he pulled away to lock eyes with your wide ones.

“Can I take responsibility then? For my actions?”

When you nodded without realising that you had, he smiled, going around the table and sinking down to his knees. For you. You found your hands moving of their own accord, cupping his face with almost trembling hands for the first time and running a hand through his hair, finding them softer than you had imagined. You laughed in disbelief and knelt down to kiss his forehead- you didn’t have to kneel down much thanks to him being so tall. You joined your foreheads and just let that moment sink in, waiting for him to do something but it was as if he had completely submitted himself to you.

“Yunho,” you breathed, “Won’t you kiss me?”

All Yunho wanted was to obey. He tilted his head, your lips brushing and then he brought his hands to your bare knees, sending shivers through your entire being. While he caressed the skin, he pecked your lips cautiously and you almost cried at how hesitant he was. You took it upon yourself to lock your lips with his and that was all he needed to kiss you back, immediately taking lead and kissing you almost desperately as if he had waited a lifetime for this moment. You moved your lips along his, settling in a comfortable rhythm and you realised you quite liked the position-

But Yunho had other plans. He broke apart, gripping your legs in one arm and getting up, making you latch on to him with a squeal which earned a laugh from him as he settled you on the empty kitchen counter, now able to meet your eyes better. He stared at you intently for a few moments, his arms caging you between them and brought your arms to rest on his shoulders, linking them around his neck.

“I’d say something about how it took you way too long,” you kissed the tip of his nose. “But I’m afraid you’ll think I’ve always fantasised about this and leave me here and go in your cave.”

“Never again,” he promised, capturing your lips in a slow and gentle kiss. You had all the time in the world now and a morbid part of your mind wanted to thank Detective Seo for paying a visit tonight even though you despised him. Yunho swiped his tongue across your lips and you gladly opened up for him, the kiss getting heated as his tongue explored your mouth, clashing with your tongue. You couldn’t help but marvel how you both fit with each other so well.

You didn’t know how long you made out like that. Neither did you care, but naturally, you both broke apart and shared a giggle. He opened his arms for you and you gladly hugged him- his hugs were probably your most favourite thing about life now. He laughed at how you wrapped yourself around him like a cat so that he didn’t even have to hold you, simply wrap his arms around your back as he walked to the living room but you muttered ‘my room’ and he obeyed, walking in that direction-

And halting.

“What do you want me to do? Throw you in the pool of books and make out? Might hurt a little…”

“Oh, goodness,” you twisted in his arms to see the mess that your room was in right now. “I was sorting out books because I really have no space anymore and I was going to give away some tonight-”

“But you could put them in the living room? The shelves have some space?”

You hadn’t even considered that. You looked at him. “Can I use that space?”

“I mean… you’ve taken over the whole floor anyway,” he shrugged. “What harm a few books are gonna do?”

You smacked his arm and he laughed, putting you down on the floor. “Well, I should clean my mess then. Don’t want you complaining about how unruly your housemate is.”

“I’ll help,” he insisted and you scoffed.

“There’s no space for you to set a foot-”

“Then make some.”

“Oh?” You shot him a dirty look. “No plans to leave?”

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked cockily and you shook your head, immediately shoving a few books away and making space on the rug where he settled down and pulled you down in his lap, snuggling his face in your neck.

“Tell me about these books,” he muttered, his breath caressing your neck and before you could comment on the position, he kissed your neck lazily.

Well… perhaps it was better to shut up and obey.

“They are a part of me,” you smiled, picking the nearest one and reading the title while he continued kissing and sucking at your neck. “This one I read recently. I think you’ll like it- it’s about doctors- ah.”

Yunho smiled against your neck when you squirmed in his grasp. He had been teasing your sweet spot for far too long now and finally got to hear your pretty moan. “Really? What’s it about?”

“Doctors,” you muttered, tilting your neck and he dived back in. “And the problems they face, the power dynamics- Jeong Yunho, I swear to god-”

Yunho laughed deeply against your skin, drawing away to observe the reddening spot. You tried shifting in his grasp but he held you in your position. “Tell me about another book.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed when he started peppering kisses along your shoulders. “What if I just smack you on the head with one?”

“Tsk, tsk. Already?”

You shifted in his lap successfully this time and before you could yell at him, he was kissing you on the lips again and as you melted in his hold, you tossed the book in your hand away to cup his face.

Sorting the books and cleaning the mess could definitely wait.

—-----------------------------

Though you and Yunho had crossed some obvious boundaries now, you were unsure how that would affect the rules of living in his house. You weren’t only his housemate now, so perhaps, the rules could change?

You started wondering about that after a few days. You hadn’t made anything official yet- he was still working a lot and barely had any time for himself but whenever he got home, he would find you and wrap you in his arms while he asked you about your day. When you asked him the same, he would simply smile and say something like ‘just the usual’ or ‘busy day today’.

Nothing more. He probably recognised the look in your eyes- the look that said that you wanted more. Perhaps he ignored it on purpose. Perhaps, whenever he kissed you after, it was to make up for the lack of an answer.

If you thought about it objectively… you didn’t really mind. Work is work- what could doctors really share about their work? But you knew he wasn’t simply going to work, especially when he sometimes came home looking like he had been running for miles or with blood on his clothes. Surely, doctors wore a gown or something while operating or handling patients. His lab coat never had blood on it, so why would he have blood on his clothes and why would he sometimes look like he got in a fight? He could definitely feel your apprehension even though you pretended to be okay about it.

Perhaps, he liked you because you didn’t ask. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious- now more so than ever. It wasn’t like being whatever you were to him now gave you any right to probe, but you couldn’t help pay a visit to his clinic tonight and see if he was really working a night shift- he had gone out in a rush earlier muttering something about an emergency. You only went to make sure he was okay, was what you told yourself-

It was certainly not because of your growing suspicion of what he really did. Nor was it because you wanted to double-check how Detective Seo told you that Yunho’s clinic had separate staff for night shifts and he definitely didn’t need to be present every night. It definitely wasn’t because Yeosang slipped when he accidentally told you Yunho had no shift a few nights ago when Yunho himself had told you he had one. And it definitely was not how you suddenly realised one day while writing your novel that Yunho’s answers to your odd questions were a bit too specific- like when you asked him about being stabbed in a certain location with a certain weapon and he slept on it and had a rather specific answer the next day. His answers were always a bit too detailed.

You would have ignored all of it but you found yourself inside the clinic and learned from the kind lady at the reception who thought it was cute that you came to check on him that Yunho only had one night shift a week. But according to what he told you, he had night shifts five days a week.

Just what was he doing?

You absently walked home and instead of writing, you just mindlessly cleaned the nooks and crannies in the living room, your mind too numb to think of possibilities. Perhaps, you needed to start defining things with Yunho- beginning with what your relationship was, exactly, and if it was more than housemates you both definitely needed to talk about a few things-

When you heard the door unlock, you looked at the time- it was almost 4 in the morning. You hadn’t realised how quickly time passed. Yunho entered, looking pretty much the same as he did when he left. You managed a smile and he told you he would be right back, rushing upstairs. You went to wash your hands in the meantime, wondering if you should ask him- would he be angry to learn you went out looking for him? Would he appreciate your concern, or would he shut himself away like he has always done-

“Y/n?” Yunho’s voice brought you back to your senses and you realised you had been zoning out in front of the sink, the tap still running water. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” you told him, drying your hands and going towards the kitchen to get yourself water. You needed to get a grip.

“You don’t look okay,” Yunho’s brows were furrowed in concern. “Did something happen while I was away?”

“I promise I’m fine,” you said, though you were sure your smile was still unconvincing- or maybe Yunho was just too good at looking right through you. “How was your night shift? Did you get a lot of patients tonight?”

“It was okay,” Yunho exhaled deeply. “A few. Not too busy.”

You nodded slowly. For a moment, you wondered if he was doing night shifts in a different workplace. Perhaps, he had never lied and you just hadn’t figured out that he had jobs at two different places-

“You’re staring,” Yunho commented, tilting his head in thought. You broke eye contact, scanning his clothes- as neat as when he left for ‘work’. “You didn’t meet Detective Seo, did you?”

“No, why?”

“That’s the only time I’ve seen you look like this. Come on, you’re making me worried,” Yunho took a step closer, tucking your hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” you laughed, deciding to tackle at least one thing tonight. “You’ll make fun of me or you'll shut yourself in your cave.”

“You need to stop calling it a cave,” Yunho laughed a bit.

“Until I see it, it’s a cave to me,” you shrugged. “Who knows what you do there?”

“You want to see it?” He asked, absently caressing your cheekbone and your eyes widened.

“That… is not what I meant- I’m curious, yes, but I don’t want to invite myself up there.”

“Well,” Yunho put his hands on your shoulders. “It looks horrible right now- it’s messy and if I bring you upstairs, you’ll forget you’re tired and start cleaning the mess. Some other day?”

“Whenever is okay, it’s probably boring and plain,” you said dismissively and he nodded in satisfaction.

“Then what is really weighing on your mind?”

“Shit, I thought you forgot about it,” you muttered but he wasn’t going to let you go. His grip on your shoulders tightened a fraction. “Look, I’m not trying to be that person and I really, really don’t mind how we are and what we are-”

“Get to the point-”

“What are we?”

Yunho blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“What are we?” You sighed. “I love what we are. I don’t mind it one bit, but I feel like we’re still housemates and there’s still this wall between us and if that’s how things should be… I can work with that. I just… I wish there wasn’t such ambiguity- stop grinning like an idiot, will you?”

“Well,” Yunho stifled another grin. “What do you think we are?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “That’s what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know,” Yunho shrugged, straightening and bringing you closer so you were almost flush against him. “I don’t think we’d be doing this if we were ‘just housemates’.”

“My point exactly,” you muttered. “I’m confused. What rules still apply? Can I interfere in your personal life? Can I ask you more than I should? There’s still so much I don’t know about you and sometimes I feel like you’re miles away, Yunho.”

Yunho’s heart ached- he wanted nothing more than to bare his entire soul in front of you. He had considered that seriously over the past few days. He was pretty sure if anyone in this world would understand his reasons for what he did and still want to be with him, it would be you, but what if he was wrong about you? What if he had signed himself to an inevitable heartbreak? If so, how could he ever recover?

“I’m right here,” Yunho kissed your forehead. “You can ask me anything but can I answer at my pace?”

That was enough. You nodded and he smiled, pecking your lips. “Thank you.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you told him. “And I know you’re curious about a few things too- you can ask me anything and I’ll answer at my own pace. Okay?”

Yunho couldn’t help it- he cupped your face and kissed you, wondering how you were so perfect. How could you trust him like this? He sometimes wondered if he was dreaming- there was no way you were real. And he told you that every day, just like he did now, and just like always, you smacked his arm as you blushed.

“You should tell me something else- I’m kind of tired of hearing that,” you laughed.

“Nothing else makes you laugh like this,” Yunho kissed you again, lingering. “You know I love it when you laugh.”

You kissed him back, forgetting all your worries and you felt the exhaustion wash away from your bones as he bent down to pick you up so he could kiss you better. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him take you to the living room- to the couch which was probably your favourite place in this house now, where Yunho and you would spend hours with each other.

As he settled you down on the couch, he broke apart and locked eyes with you. “Well, do you still think we’re just housemates?”

“God, you really got stuck on that one, huh?” You poked his chest. “Okay. You’re what? My boyfriend?”

Yunho’s lips parted and a smile crawled on his lips. “I kind of like the sound of that.”

“Geez, have you never been in a relationship,” you teased and he laughed out loud.

“Just not like this one, no,” he traced your lips with his thumb. “You’re… different.”

“Bet you told that to everyone before me,” you scoffed and he pecked your lips to shut you up. You smiled into the kiss, your hands wandering down his chest and stopping at his hips, snaking up his shirt on his bare skin which earned a light groan from him. You instinctively squeezed his side-

And he stopped kissing you right then. You wondered if you had done something wrong and when you drew apart, you realised he looked as if he was in pain. You frowned, your hands still there while Yunho stifled another groan and when you pressed on both his sides, he finally exhaled-

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” You whispered, drawing his shirt up without permission and gasping when you saw a big red bruise on his right side as if he had been punched.

“Y/n,” Yunho called in warning but you weren’t having any of it anymore- you pulled his shirt up and if Yunho hadn’t been bracing himself up on either sides of you to keep himself from falling on top of you, he would have stopped you, but now you were staring at his upper body in horror and worry.

You let go of the shirt and it fell down to cover his secrets. You looked at Yunho who couldn’t meet your eyes. “Won’t you let me help you? Won’t you let me take care of you?”

Yunho simply sighed, wondering what to do, what to say. He knew this day would come eventually but he hadn’t imagined it to be like this. He let you gently push him back on the couch and without a word, you went to your room. He slumped down, rubbing his face-

Of all the days, it had to be today. Had to be tonight when he made a mistake and hurt himself. You reappeared out of your room with a medical kit and settled down next to him.

“You’re the doctor, Yunho,” you said and showed him the ointments and medicines in the kit, noticing a number of scars on his body and finally getting a good look at the scar that ran up his arm all the way to the middle of his upper arm. “Tell me how to take care of you.”

Yunho passed you a look, finding the lack of expressions on your face kind of disturbing. Just what were you thinking? He sighed and took out the ointment for the bruise- one he had in his room as well and would have used had he not been distracted by you. You nodded and took the ointment, spreading it along his bruise and gently rubbing it in. Once done, you got up and inspected the rest of his upper body.

“Are you sure that’s the only place you’re hurt?”

“Yep,” he assured you. “You can relax now.”

You scoffed at that, putting the kit aside and folding your arms as you looked at him. “Look… If you don’t want me to, I won’t ask, but you’re not just a doctor. I’m right about that, aren’t I?”

When he didn’t respond, you understood. You were right, and he probably couldn’t say anything. “Do you trust me, Yunho?”

“Y/n, it’s not about trust-”

“Just tell me- do you trust me?”

He locked eyes with you. “Of course I do. If I didn’t… I would have kicked you out long ago, y/n, and I would have never....”

That seemed to satisfy you and when he found the faintest hint of a smile on your lips, he finally relaxed a bit. “I trust you, but there are things I cannot tell you- not right now.”

“I know,” you nodded. “You can stop lying about your night shifts- just say you’re going somewhere. I won’t ask until you tell me.”

Yunho blinked in surprise- just how long ago had you figured him out?

“Also… I would appreciate it if the next time you get hurt, you let me know instead of surprising me like this.”

“Do you… know something you’re not telling me, y/n?”

You smiled at Yunho. If he wasn’t so genuine with his words and his feelings, you would have demanded answers, but what you had with him was special in its own way. No questions asked wasn’t such a bad rule- because you knew that when he answered your questions, you would have to answer his too.

“Do I? I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But I have a feeling that you and I aren’t so different, Yunho.”

Yunho wished he could tell you who he was- his friends insisted he was not a ‘murderer’ like he would often call himself but a vigilante. A hero to most, an enemy to the others- especially the police who had been on his tail for a while now. How could you possibly be the same as him? He had killed people with his own hands, and though it could be argued that he only killed the worst of criminals, if Hongjoong hadn’t been there the night his parents were killed, he could very well be in prison for attempted murder or worse.

All these years, as he killed one corrupted individual after another, he was convinced that he was the one who was truly corrupted inside. He was the one who needed to meet the fate that anyone who encountered him did. His friends, especially Hongjoong, were aware that there was a twisted part inside him that took joy in the simple act of killing people- people who stole from others. Stole their loved ones, their life, their hard work. You couldn’t possibly be as bad as him, could you? There was absolutely no way-

“Stop thinking so much,” you whispered, placing your hand on his and he immediately shifted so he was holding your hand, squeezing it as if he needed some assurance. “I just want you to be careful, okay? Whatever you do… stay safe, will you?”

“How can you trust me so blindly?” Yunho asked.

“I told you, right?” You smiled. “I know who you are- at least to me. That’s enough for me.”

Yunho smiled back, burying his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your arm around his bare shoulders, burying your hand in his hair and caressing them gently. You let go of Yunho’s hand only to trace the long scar on his arm, wishing you could ask how he got it but you would wait. You kissed his temple and he sighed, nuzzling against you.

“I’m afraid…” Yunho confessed in a voice so small you were wondering if you were hearing things. “I’m afraid you’ll run away when you learn who I am.”

Your heart sank at his words. He was just like you. In all your previous relationships, you made people run away from you. You could never give them what you wanted. They would find you too secretive or too accepting. Little did they know that you were only hiding your ugly past and trying your best not to let it interfere with your life.

“You couldn’t possibly be worse than me,” you told him and that prompted him to lift his head to look at you. “I’m convinced I’m a monster. Could you love a monster, Yunho?”

Yunho took in your blank gaze as you said those words and he realised that perhaps, you were right. Perhaps, you were just like him too, with some twisted part inside you, something that had you convinced that you were a monster.

And if that was the case… he could love you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and tell you that you made him feel human even at his worst, so he leaned forward to kiss you slowly, letting you know what he felt through the way he held your waist and brought you on top of him, through the way he held you so close to him and sighed when you wrapped your arms around his, through the way he started trailing kisses everywhere on your skin. And when you gave him more, he accepted it. If that was the last time you would ever look at him and not feel horrified, he was going to make sure he made you feel loved so he forgot about all his worries and smiled at you playfully, beyond relieved when you bit your lips in excitement.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Yunho whispered, sucking at your neck- he had a thing for that certain spot, you had realised now.

“We haven’t even begun, though,” you commented and Yunho paused, considering your words. He experimentally snaked his hand up your thigh and when you only kissed his temple in response, he understood.

An invitation.

“Shall we take this to bed, then?”

You nodded, sharing an open-mouthed kiss before he got up and started going towards your room.

If only he knew that your invitation was for the same reasons as his.

—---------------------------

For all your talk about trust, you sure were walking on the fine line that marked trust from betrayal.

And if things hadn’t turned out the way they had been turning out for the past two weeks, you would have never been here. You scoffed internally as you took another turn into a dark alley, a safe distance behind Yunho so he wouldn’t notice your presence- anything to convince yourself that you were only doing this to make sure he would be safe. To make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself again-

Because you had a gut feeling that something was going to happen tonight, and your gut was never, ever wrong. Your gut had saved (or doomed, it could be argued) you two decades ago. You could trust yourself with that.

Though, again, that was debatable as well. Was it your gut that had you all nervous and hypervigilant or was it the growing suspicions about Yunho?

Because a few days ago, Detective Seo called you and requested that you visit the station. You would have ignored him had he not been so polite for once. Ultimately, the reason you visited him was because you wanted to clear his suspicions of you and get him off your tail- you had finally settled in this town at peace and you couldn’t have the detective ruining that.

And also, a small part of you wanted to learn more about why he suspected Yunho.

You discovered during your visit that you were right- your involvement in his investigation of Yunho made him suspicious of you. You learned that the reason he was so intent on having Yunho come to the station and give a proper statement was because a few of his alibis no longer held any validity- he had said something about a night shift when he had none. The detective didn’t like how the doctors and a few of the staff members around him were so uncooperative and secretive. If that wasn’t enough, the detective was still curious about the 12-inch knife in your kitchen.

He joked about how he or his colleagues didn’t own a 12-inch meat knife at home- apparently a non-professional one was usually 7 to 10 inches long. You told him that it was irrelevant but when he mentioned how his suspect had stopped using kitchen knives a few months ago and switched to a dagger of a unique built, it had you wondering-

The detective didn’t know those knives actually belonged to Yunho, which was why he was also suspecting you now. What if you told him? What if the timing of the change of the murder weapon matched?

You only asked the detective if he really believed you were capable of wielding daggers and he shook his head in denial. You then asked if he really thought the surgeon could be a suspect in his case.

“I can’t tell you what it is, but we have substantial evidence to keep an eye on him, at least. If it’s him, he’s not alone.”

And that’s what got you thinking if you were wrong about who Yunho and his friends were. Especially when only a couple days later you went to visit them at the clinic with some fresh cookies and you got a peek at the register at reception that had a schedule of all doctors and you learned that Yunho had no night shift for the rest of the week-

Only to find him lying about it and hearing the news about the murder of a renowned politician while he was god knows where.

You didn’t ask Yunho why he lied about the night shift because he had agreed not to make up that excuse again. You casually confirmed with Wooyoung if he had really been at the clinic that night and he told you he had, but you weren’t done there. You double-checked with the young girl at reception in the clinic- she was quite a fan of your cookies and now that she knew you and Yunho were close, she willingly confirmed that Yunho had indeed not been at the clinic that night. Neither had any of his friends.

You wished you could simply confront Yunho and ask but he was still hesitant. And really, you would have let everything be. You would have waited for him, but tonight?

Tonight he told you he was going to the clinic to meet up with Wooyoung and give him some company during his boring night shift. Pretty believable, but your gut twisted as soon as he stepped out and you knew that you just had to make sure that he was going to the clinic. You covered yourself with a jacket and scarf, grabbed the keys and wore your shoes-

Changing your mind and going to the kitchen to grab a little something before finally stepping out.

And that’s how you got here, one bus ride and a good walk later, deep in some abandoned part of the town following Yunho through the alleys until he stopped abruptly, making you take a few steps back and hide yourself in a corner. Strangely, Yunho seemed to be inspecting the area. What for, you didn’t know. He looked around and checked if the gate at the end of the alley was really locked. After thorough inspection which made you wonder if he was looking for someone or something, he started walking in your direction, probably to leave. You discreetly slid down and away so he would cross you without looking in your direction, and thankfully, he did.

You sighed, wondering if tonight had been a waste in which case your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you sleep for a good few days unless you came clean to Yunho. You were just following him back because you were pretty sure you would get lost otherwise when you spotted another man at the opposite end of the street. Instinctively, you hid again and waited for the man to continue along that street and get out of your way-

Except he turned in the street in Yunho’s direction.

You made a face and decided to fall behind the two- surely the man would be on his own way soon, except there was something odd about the way he was walking-

He was walking just like you had been- short, quick and silent steps, a good distance behind Yunho to avoid encountering him. Was he following Yunho too? How did he know Yunho would be here? Had he seen you- did he know you were here? It was too dark to make out who he was.

The two turned to another street and the man kept following him even after the crossroads, confirming your suspicions that Yunho was being followed. Perhaps, Yunho had been waiting for this man when he had been looking around the alley-

A sharp glint near the man’s thigh caught your attention and with a sinking heart, you realised-

The man was wielding a weapon. Something sharp that looked an awful lot like the very knife you had hidden inside your jacket.

You froze for a few moments that you knew would cost you something. There was just too much to consider- the feeling of impending doom, the worry for Yunho’s life, the fight-or-flight response making its way to control your future actions and worst of all, the feeling that you were back where you had been when you were still a child trying to protect your father from a situation just like this.

And as the man’s pace quickened and the distance between him and Yunho got shorter, you let the child that had murdered a grown man to protect a loved one take over. Just like that night, you raised your knife in the air without realising when you actually took it out of your jacket. And just like that time, you found yourself running towards the man- this time, experienced and calculating. You would have to congratulate yourself for being so certain about what you were doing-

“Yunho, watch out!”

Though Yunho recognised your voice immediately, the fear in your voice was unfamiliar and he turned around with dread pooling in his nerves, his eyes widening as he tried to process an unfamiliar face of a man with a weapon aimed at him- way too close- and then your figure, perhaps as unfamiliar this time, running towards the man. Yunho instinctively dodged the attack and before he could react further, you collided with the man, crashing on the floor with grunts.

Every nerve in your body screamed as you both clawed at each other while trying not to hurt yourselves, getting nicked here and there and before the man could actually think and overpower you, you buried the length of your knife between his collarbones, effectively disarming him and the man’s eyes widened as he whimpered in pain-

No.

“Y/n,” Yunho almost cried as he sank down next to you, spotting the horror in your eyes and in that moment, he knew only one thing- that he couldn’t let you burden yourself with having to live with blood on your hands. He inspected the stab on the man’s neck, sucking in his breath when he realised the knife in your hand was from your kitchen- the same damned knife he had spilled blood with. The man coughed blood and your grip on the knife finally loosened as you realised just what you had done.

While you remained frozen in your spot, Yunho realised that the man was beyond help though with the current position of the knife in his throat, he was going to bleed to death for a long while before he could let go. So Yunho made a decision and gently unwrapped your hands from the knife, squeezing them to make you look at him.

“Y/n? Are you with me?”

His voice felt miles away, drowned by the ringing in your ears and you could only blink. Yunho took a deep, shaky breath. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t know how long you stared at him but he gently shook your shoulder, making you crawl away from the shivering body of the man. “Y/n, do you trust me?”

This time, you did hear him and you nodded slowly, still in a trance. “Yunho- save him, please-”

Yunho had his answer. He slid the knife out of the spot between his collarbones only to stab him on another spot in his neck not far from the original and you watched in horror as the man groaned once before falling limp. Yunho put a hand over the wounds as if that could possibly stop the bleeding and then he asked you to take off your scarf. You weren’t sure you heard him right but with his free hand he started to unwind the scarf from around your neck. You didn’t make any effort to help him- you simply watched him wrap your scarf around his neck to stop further bleeding-

“He’s dead,” you practically spat out. “Why do you need to stop the bleeding now?”

Yunho didn’t answer. Once his hands were free, he bent down to pick the man and started walking back to the alley, stopping when he realised you weren’t following him. He turned to look at you, eyes void of emotions. “Aren’t you going to come?”

You got up with immense struggle, looking around- why was there no one to help? Why was this abandoned area so empty in the middle of the night? You grabbed the man’s knife and started following Yunho, your hands and legs shaking uncontrollably and each step got harder to take. When you reached the spot Yunho had checked out earlier, he laid the man’s body down and you finally sank to the floor, drawing your knees to your chest and trying to breathe. You could hear him talking into the phone to someone, giving them the address.

All you knew was that you had killed someone. Again. And this time, your father wasn’t there to protect you and take the blame. This time, you weren’t a child who needed such protection. You were an adult and you had killed-

You felt arms wrap around your figure and you finally let out a shaky sob though your eyes remained dry. Yunho rubbed your back and asked you to breathe with him, drawing away and rubbing your cold hands in his to share some warmth- though his were just as cold. You could only see the blood on your hands, on your clothes-

“Y/n, listen to me carefully,” his deep voice echoed inside you. “You didn’t kill the man, okay?”

“You’re lying,” your teeth were chattering with cold and fear now. “I killed him.”

“No,” Yunho shook his head. “You protected me. I killed him.”

“You can’t do this to me, not you too,” you finally cried. “Not you too. I killed again, and this time, I’ll take responsibility.”

Yunho took a moment to process what you had said as he scanned your figure- everything finally started to make sense though there was still so much he needed answers to. “Listen to me. You didn’t deliver the killing blow. I did. I’m the one who killed him.”

“You and I both know he would have died anyway,” you locked eyes with him and Yunho knew then that it was no use trying to convince you that you weren’t to blame. “You just made it easier for him.”

Yunho didn’t respond to that. He simply kept rubbing your hands as if that could turn back time and make things right. When you heard the sound of footsteps, you got tense and almost panicked but Yunho assured you it was just his friends and everything would be okay soon. You watched Wooyoung and Mingi assess the situation, not reacting much and numbly, you let Wooyoung accompany you to his car. You kept looking for Yunho though and Wooyoung smiled a bit despite the situation, assuring you that he would be right there.

While on your way, Wooyoung made sure you were warm and made you eat a few bites of chocolate, telling you you would need it. You asked him how he was so calm right now- was it not his first time that something like this happened?

“Something tells me it’s not your first time either, y/n,” he simply responded and you fell silent after that.

You shut your eyes and let your mind wander about what was going to happen next. Sure, you felt a sense of security being around Yunho- he had done something you could never have imagined- but there was still a small part of you thinking about how this was the end for you. You were going to go to prison. Perhaps you would meet the same fate as your father. Your mother and brother would certainly be pleased to see you behind bars. You could hear their laughter and the ‘I told you so’ even now-

“Y/n?” Yunho’s gentle voice made you open your eyes. “We’re here.”

You looked at ‘here’ which was another abandoned area with dimly lit streets and a warehouse which Hongjoong was unlocking the doors of. Yunho helped you out of the car- you definitely needed that since your legs were still wobbly. You noticed that not everyone made it back and you asked him where they were.

“They’re taking a detour- they’ll be here in a few minutes.”

You nodded and followed him inside and if the circumstances would have been different, you could have appreciated how well organised the inside of the warehouse was, looking like a home with couches and games and fridge and enough space to do anything and everything. It looked like a hideout and you smiled faintly before sitting on the couch. Hongjoong brought you beer and you gladly accepted, taking a few gulps and letting Wooyoung wrap a blanket around you, letting Yunho clean the blood off your hands and spotting the cuts littering your hands and arms. Now that there was enough light, he could spot the numbness in your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, suddenly breaking out of your trance. “Are you? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” he breathed. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good, I…” you looked at your scarred hands. “I’m… okay.”

“Y/n,” Yunho took your hands in his again and you met his worried eyes. “How did you know? Why did you follow me?”

“I… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” you sighed and he squeezed your hands. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright, but I need to know what happened tonight so I can help you, okay?” Yunho said and you nodded, straightening.

“I knew you had no night shift today- I saw in the register by chance,” you told him and he nodded. “So when you said you were going, I knew you were lying. I would have let you go, trust me, but… I had a feeling something was about to happen. Or maybe… maybe I was just too suspicious- because Detective Seo said if it was you, you weren’t alone-”

“You met Detective Seo again?” He asked, his tone still gentle but you spotted Seonghwa looking at you apprehensively. “Why?”

“He called me to the station a few days ago because he was suspicious of me- the knives,” you let out a nervous laugh and Yunho nodded, understanding. “He told me his suspect’s murder weapon and method had changed and the timing was just a bit off. He knew it couldn’t be me but we have history so he just needed to make sure.”

“Did you tell him about Yunho- or anything?” Seonghwa asked.

Yunho gently warned Seonghwa but you told him it was okay. “He doesn’t know the knives belong to Yunho and he is just suspecting him because apparently your alibis are invalid now. That’s all he’s got on you, actually.”

They all sighed in relief and you heard the doors open, the rest of them joining you and exchanging drinks. “You’re all oddly calm about all of this.”

“We’re doctors,” Yeosang commented. “We have to be calm at times like this.”

“You’re oddly calm too,” San noticed.

“That’s what I said,” Wooyoung quipped in and Yunho asked you if the boys were overwhelming you but you shook your head no.

“Can you tell me what happened next? Why did you follow me?”

You took a deep breath. “I said Detective Seo and I have history. When I was little… about two decades ago, I… we lived in a small town, the four of us. My father was in debt and he often had to run away from gangsters and loan sharks. One day, he got cornered by one of the men and he had a gun- he looked like he was about to shoot my dad. My mom was protecting us- me and my brother, but I… I did what I could to protect him. I went to the kitchen, grabbed the first knife I saw and stabbed that man multiple times in the back.”

“Oh, y/n,” Yunho’s voice sounded pained and you heard a chorus of sucked breaths and exhales. Your hands started trembling again and Yunho squeezed them, planting a kiss to your knuckles which just made tears pool in your eyes.

“I did that to protect him,” your voice was just as shaky as your hands now. “That man died and my father ended up taking all the blame to protect me from the police. Detective Seo was in charge of that case and he always suspected me- especially because my mother and brother started hating me for putting my dad in such a situation. He found all of it odd. So tonight… I had a feeling just like that night- like something bad was about to happen. Or maybe I’m just making up that excuse to cover the fact that I betrayed your trust and followed you to see just what you were up to-”

“No,” Yunho embraced you, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Even if you followed me because you were suspicious, you were right to do so. I shouldn’t have lied about the night shift- anyone would have suspected me after that. It just slipped- it’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” you wiped your eyes, drawing away. “I shouldn’t have followed you-”

“You saved me,” Yunho smiled at you. “Your gut feeling, your suspicions… they were right. If it weren’t for you-”

“But I killed him,” you cried. “You cannot take the blame for it now.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “We’ve uh… identified the man. Yunho, you might want to tell her who you really are.”

Yunho nodded, wiping your tears away. “Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go home?”

“I think I’d like to go home… if that’s alright with you guys,” you said and the boys assured you that it was. Yunho got up and took the car keys from Seonghwa, sharing a few words with him and Wooyoung and Mingi asked you if you needed anything. You told them you were fine but you would like to be in the comfort of your own home right now and they understood.

“If Yunho bothers you too much, you can call us,” Mingi teased. “We’ll take care of him.”

“I think it’s the other way round, but thank you,” you finally laughed. “Can I ask- what will happen to that man? The body…”

“Yunho will let you know- you don’t have to worry about anything,” Wooyoung assured you and when Yunho extended his hand, you took a deep breath and took it.

You were going home, and you were finally going to learn who Yunho was.

—--------------------------

It was surreal to enter your home now, Yunho by your side and the weight of the events from the past few hours hanging over your shoulders. You both went to change first and you found yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror as you washed your face and hands. You took a few deep breaths to calm down, as best as you could manage in that moment before leaving and finding the smell of chamomile tea in the living room. Yunho motioned for you to join him on the couch and you passed a tight-lipped smile before obeying. You sipped the tea and waited for Yunho to gather his thoughts.

“When I was in high school,” Yunho finally began and you shifted towards him to watch him. “One night, a serial killer decided my parents were his next victims. He followed my mom home and killed both of them, and I… I wasn’t home- by the time I came home, he was done killing them.”

“Oh, dear,” you held Yunho’s hand. You couldn’t imagine what he must have felt.

“I saw him leaving,” Yunho sighed deeply. “Hongjoong was with me- he witnessed everything. He tried to stop me from going after the killer but I grabbed a metal rod and went after the man. He had a knife and that’s how I got this scar,” Yunho pointed at his arm. “Hongjoong saved me that night but I lost a part of me that night. A part that was human. I became almost animalistic, trying to find the killer.”

“Did you ever find him then?” You asked.

“I did, but after he died,” Yunho slumped back on the couch. “I couldn’t get my revenge. It wasn’t long after that incident. I lost my mind and was about to become the very killer I hated. Hongjoong saved me yet again- he knew that I wouldn’t stop at anything now. I was getting into a lot of fights and basically ruining my life.”

“How did he save you then?”

“He handed me a dagger and told me to do what I must with it,” Yunho admitted. “I was shocked because usually he was the one hiding anything that could become a weapon from me. But then I realised that I was only trying to protect innocent people like my parents. I would aimlessly walk the streets and help anyone who needed it.”

“That’s… very you,” you smiled and Yunho shook his head.

“I’m not a good person, though,” he said. “Somehow, we found each other, the eight of us. We select targets- corrupt politicians, rapists, offenders… especially the people who are public figures and lead double lives. We send hints to the police so they can do their job but when they don’t… we take the matter into our own hands.”

“Oh,” you frowned. “The politician a few days ago-”

“Not me,” Yunho shook his head. “Though he was my next target.”

“So you… kill them?”

“We only kill when someone is powerful enough to get away with all their crimes,” Yunho admitted and your heart sank dangerously- hearing it from his own mouth now, it finally started to feel real.

“Isn’t that… okay?” You wondered. “The police can’t do anything and they would only cause further harm if they are alive.”

“Yes, but…” Yunho tucked your hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t enjoy it so much, should I? I think I’m twisted like that, y/n. I feel no remorse.”

You looked at him- how could you tell him that you understood? That you were okay with that? He would tell you over and over again that it was wrong, because he knew that too. You knew that too, yet…

“It’s kind of ironic then, that you all are doctors, right?” You finally said and he coughed, making you laugh a little- more in disbelief than in amusement. “So all your night shifts…?”

“We meet up at the warehouse to plan and work on new cases,” Yunho said.

“And the man that I…”

“We identified him- the boys are digging up further but we’re suspecting he’s the copycat killer.”

“The copycat killer?” You repeated in disbelief. “Copying who- oh.”

Yunho pursed his lips guiltily. “Those kitchen knives… they were murder weapons. Now you know why I got so angry when you used them to cook.”

“Oh, goodness-”

“Don’t worry, I sanitised them,” he said as if that could make things better. “When I stopped using them, someone kept murdering people with similar weapons. And not just carefully selected scum- innocent people. It was why Detective Seo suspected me at first and then let me go easily because it just didn’t match. He probably figured out that someone is copying the real killer.”

You took a deep breath. “I killed… a serial killer?”

“Yes,” Yunho held your hands, making you face him. “Do you know how badly the events of tonight could have turned out?”

“But he was going to kill you,” you said. “He had it all planned- he was waiting for you, Yunho. You could have been seriously hurt tonight- do you realise that?”

“I can’t believe you’re still worried about me,” Yunho almost cried. “Do you have any idea what went through my head when I saw you throwing yourself in the way to protect me… I thought I was going to lose you, y/n. Why did you do that?”

“I can’t lose you,” you simply said. “It felt like I was back to being that kid trying to protect my father. Why did you kill him without knowing who he was? Why did you try to take the blame, Yunho? Do you know how scared I was when you did that?”

When Yunho didn’t respond, his eyes tearing up, you continued. “I thought it was happening all over again. You would take the blame and I would have to live with the guilt. I’ve lived with guilt for far too long, Yunho. My father… he never made it out of prison. He was never a criminal and I guess the other prisoners found out, and they… they killed him. My mother and brother never forgave me after that. Do you think I could live with something like this again?”

Yunho wiped his eyes. “I understand, y/n, I really do,” he nodded. “But you have to understand that I was scared for you tonight. You shouldn’t have done any of that- the police will find the man’s body with all his crimes soon, but even if he was someone innocent, you shouldn’t have done that-”

“I did that to protect you,” you smiled. “What’s so hard to understand about that? Just like you delivered the killing blow to protect me, yeah? Why did you do that?”

“Because I love you,” Yunho breathed. “And I couldn’t bear to see that broken look in your eyes.”

“But we’re both broken in our own ways,” the tears finally rolled down your cheeks at his confession and he laughed a little, wiping them away as he cupped your face. “Is that why you’ve been so distant? So unapproachable? You thought you were broken and no one could love you?”

When Yunho nodded, you shook your head. “Well, I might be just like you then. And I love you for who you are. I love you for the way you tried to protect me, and I love you for still loving me when I told you who I am.”

Yunho finally relaxed and laughed, bringing you in for a hug and you got in his lap, wrapping your limbs around each other. You hugged him good and tight, telling him that he didn’t have to be so guarded anymore- he could be himself with you. He kissed you and told you that you could stop being so scared as well. You found yourself content in his embrace as you both shared your pasts and concerns, assuring each other that everything would be okay and helping each other process the events of tonight, Yunho treating the various places you got nicked and patching you up. You were still scared and anxious but he was there for you, holding you even as you fell asleep.

There was no place he would rather be anyway.

—----------------------------

“The snake in the suit was cornered now. With a grim realisation, he wondered if he should have listened to the lanky cop on his case that he couldn’t even bother to remember the name of– he probably meant well when he suggested the snake be careful now. What would the snake need to be afraid of? The snake was a predator. It only needed to worry about finding prey.

However, the predator had become the prey now, defenceless in front of the masked spider who wielded his weapon of justice- a beautifully carved dagger with a golden hilt. For the first time in his life, the snake wished it had been a gun instead so his end would have been quick. However, just like the snake had enjoyed wearing the face of justice to the public while circulating drugs to the desperate, the spider enjoyed wearing no mask when he prosecuted his targets. The spider had one purpose to serve- so why not enjoy it?

The spider leaned into the snake’s ears, holding the tip of his dagger under the snake’s chin as he whispered, “I sent you countless warnings, didn’t I? I told you what fate you would meet if you continued down this road. Prison would have been a playground for you compared to the hell I’m about to show you.”

Any ramblings of mercy went up the spider’s head- he couldn’t hear anything anymore. With a kick to the snake’s stomach, he made him sink to his knees before he swiped the dagger along his cheekbone, producing a spurt of blood. The snake let out a choked whimper and the spider cocked his head, wondering which part of his body to ruin next– hey, y/n… I’m pretty sure it’s not that deep.”

“It’s fiction, Wooyoung,” you simply winked but Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it.

“Yunho, tell me, did you really cock your head and wonder which part of him you’d like to ruin next?”

Yunho only bothered shooting Wooyoung a dirty look in between arguing with San and Jongho about a recent case they had at their clinic- something about how to perform a specific type of stitch that would be seamless.

“What do you think, Yeosang?” Wooyoung elbowed the man next to him. “Don’t you think she’s overdoing some of it?”

“Well, what do you want me to write? ‘Yunho went and killed the politician who had been circulating drugs all around the province’. Plain and simple like that?”

“I think she writes gore to cope,” Yeosang commented. “I’ve been seeing a pattern and- wait, was I not supposed to point that out?”

You looked at Mingi for help who looked moments away from bursting into laughter. “You might want to switch your psychiatrist, y/n.”

“I think I’m good with you,” you grimaced at Yeosang who looked like a deer caught in headlights. “This one should stick to the kidney stuff instead of treating the mind.”

“You heard her,” Mingi clapped, finally bursting out laughing. “Stick to being a nephrologist.”

“I don’t even know how people can have you as their psychiatrist,” Yeosang narrowed his eyes at Mingi and you shook your head in amusement- this banter wasn’t new. “What do you tell them? This too shall pass?”

Wooyoung snorted at that while Mingi raised his finger at him, trying to come up with a retort but failing and sulk-walking to Yunho, resting his head against his shoulder. You smiled at how Yunho naturally adjusted to have both of them in a comfortable position while continuing arguing with the Chois.

It had been a couple of months since that fateful night. You were still trying to process most of what happened that night and the boys were always there to help you with that, going above and beyond. While at first you had been apprehensive of them- rightfully so- now they were almost like family to you. You found that all of them were extremely hardworking and ambitious, but also very gentle and kind. Or perhaps, you were receiving special treatment as Yunho often joked.

Yunho gave you all the time and space you needed to sort your thoughts out while continuing being there for you- you were amazed at how good he was with that balance. He never let you feel overwhelmed or alone. He answered all of your questions about him and he just knew when you wanted to talk about your own feelings. He would ask you what you were afraid to find the answers to and then help you navigate through the tangled web that your thoughts were. When he suggested you go to Mingi for ‘therapy sessions’, you asked him if he genuinely thought you needed therapy and if Mingi was really the right person to go considering his role in what they did.

“I mean… Mingi is sort of my therapist too,” Yunho admitted to your surprise. “One thing about him is that he understands. No matter how sick or twisted you think you may be, he understands and he guides you to your own solution to that. Surprisingly, he’s the one who helped me overcome my rage and trauma of my parents, not Hongjoong.”

That really got you thinking and when you went to your appointment with Mingi in his clinic, he asked you what role you would like him to play- a stranger and just a therapist, or who he really was. You preferred the latter and soon, you found yourself looking forward to going to those sessions. You could now talk about what happened with your father without feeling an immense sense of guilt because even though all this time you knew it was not your fault, you simply hadn’t made peace with that. Mingi also helped you realise that what they did- the ‘vigilante’ stuff- it wasn’t lawful. It might even be wrong and you needed to acknowledge and remember that.

And you did. So when Seonghwa and Hongjoong came to you with an odd proposition, you took your time thinking about it. You spent a few days away from everything, back in your hometown to visit your mother and brother and this time, you could actually talk back to them when they mocked you about going to your father’s grave when, according to them, you were his murderer. That time away helped you sort through the final knots in your mind.

And when Yunho came back home that day to the smell of a freshly cooked meal in his house, he had to take a moment for himself. He spread his arms as soon as he saw you and you crushed him in a hug, giggling like kids. You were back in his arms and that was all that mattered to him. You informing him that you agreed to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s proposition was a bonus.

“She’s a crime-gore fiction writer, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong finally said. “You can’t expect anything less from her. Besides, the details make it look less believable, which means less people will suspect that what she writes is not wholly fictional.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Good one by the way, Yeosang.”

“Yeah, I was going to say that,” Hongjoong laughed. “I once went to Mingi too. He told me that exact line and that’s when I decided I didn’t really need therapy.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that,” Yeosang laughed. “No wonder he’s sulking so much.”

“He’ll be fine,” Seonghwa chuckled and you didn’t miss the adoration in his eyes as he glanced at Mingi. Seonghwa turned to you, closing your book and placing it on the table in front of him. “I think you did a great job. It’s a very engaging story and the facts are present for the wise ones if they can connect the dots. I quite like it, y/n.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I owe it to you both. You’re really good editors- it’s too bad you both refuse to take credit.”

“It would only raise suspicion,” Hongjoong dismissed. “You’re the writer. We’re only, uh… inspirations?”

“Inspirations,” Wooyoung repeated. “I know exactly who would be pleased to hear that. Our favourite detective.”

“I heard from a source that he spent two hours trying to convince his coworkers that what you were writing wasn’t fiction,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s been quite silent lately.”

“The excitement must have dulled now- it’s been weeks since this book has been out,” you said. “I think he might be starting to take pointers now. He texted me a few days ago asking which politician he should keep an eye out for next.”

“What did you say?” Yeosang asked.

“I told him the next book could be about a detective who refuses to leave a poor girl alone,” you grinned, the group bursting into a chorus of laughter. “He enjoyed that joke, actually. I think he’s warming up to me now.”

“He better not,” Yunho finally joined, putting his hands on your shoulders from behind you. “I don’t want him obsessing about what kitchen tools we use these days. Shall we go home now?”

You nodded, saying goodnight to the boys and exiting the warehouse with Yunho. A bike ride later in the chilly night, you were home and just like always, grinning as you entered- you still loved the bike rides.

“Oh, tomorrow’s Sunday,” you clapped, suddenly remembering. “We get to sleep in. What do you wanna do tonight? Movie?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Yunho pretended to think, a grin creeping up on his face as he tackled you in a back hug and swung you around once, making your laugh echo in the house. “I think I’ll skip.”

“What’s got you so mushy tonight?” You asked- Yunho was swinging you both back and forth, his cheek resting against yours.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “I just still can’t get used to the fact that you’re real.”

You chuckled at that- you knew that Yunho absolutely loved the sight of you getting along with his friends, working with them, and actually supporting them. You insisted it was because the world really needed less criminals prowling around and while Yunho agreed, he also knew that part of the reason you agreed in the first place was because of him and he told you that he sometimes couldn’t believe that you could love him despite what he did.

You only told him once that a sick part of you definitely enjoyed killing those men if that meant you got to protect your loved ones. He remembered what you said- that everyone had something ugly like that in them- they just hadn’t been desperate enough to realise it yet. And thanks to you, Yunho was discovering a new side of himself- someone passionate and gentle and human. Sure, he had been that with his friends before, but with you, it was definitely different and new.

“Says the 6 foot tall handsome doctor slash biker slash vigilante. It can’t get hotter than that,” you teased.

“Bet you moved in because of that.”

“Maybe I did,” you teased. “Wasn’t it the best decision you made, agreeing to let me move in?”

Yunho thought about it for a few moments, humming to himself. “I could think of a few better decisions I’ve made-”

You smacked his arm, getting out of his grasp and muttering you were going to bed first and Yunho laughed loudly at your antics, following you as you walked towards the stairs and when you noticed him, you sped up, giggling when he started running after you. You barely made it to his room when he had you in his arms again and was peppering kisses all over your face.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “The best decision I made was probably letting Detective Seo rattle you out while I stood outside and listened.”

You gasped loudly. “You did all of that just to have an excuse to kiss me, didn’t you?”

“Who knows?” Yunho shrugged teasingly. “Might not have gotten a better chance.”

“Come on, say it,” you started unbuttoning his shirt. “When exactly did you fall for me?”

“Let’s see…” he thought about it while you took off his shirt and ran your hands across his toned chest, tracing all his scars like you always did. “Could have been when you scolded me about the boots and the water trail and ordered me to use the bunny towel.”

“Sheesh, you’re that easy?”

“Yeah, I’m simple like that,” Yunho muttered before drawing in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. “It’s the little things you did that made me a mess way before you defended me with all your might.”

“That was the first time you laughed,” you smiled at the memory, turning him around so you could make him sit on his bed. You got in his lap and he squeezed your thighs in appreciation. “I think you had me right there too.”

Yunho shook his head at your confession and you grinned, pushing him to make him lie down. He loved it when you did that and took your time appreciating him, kissing all his scars and massaging his scalp as you drove him a little crazy, rolling your hips on his crotch suggestively once in a while. And he let you take your time because once he took charge, once he flipped you so you were under him and let his hands run all over your body as he kissed every inch of it, and once you were skin to skin-

That’s when you were done for.

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