warnings: afab reader, foursome, winter olympics hockey player au, d/s dynamics, pet names (puck bunny/bun, baby), dirty talk, oral (f/m receiving), deep throating, face sitting, fingering, finger sucking, cum swallowing, manhandling, spitroasting, (wc: 1.7k)
set in the on the edge winter olympics universe, but obviously a standalone fic because all this is, is absolutely rotten lol
“Why do you even like hockey?”
“You don’t like seeing buff grown men brawl it out?”
At least, this is the answer you give whenever anyone asks you why you’ve followed the South Korean national team all the way to the Winter Olympics in Sweden.
The real answer is far more obtuse, though who could really blame you?
When the captain sees you, he recognises you instantly, his face lighting up at the sign you’re holding, written in English, specifically for him: “I want to Bang Chan! ♡” He turns to tug at the centerman, Han Jisung, who snaps his head towards you, smiling just as wide and winking.
Your heart skips clumsily, in return blowing a kiss off of your fingertips for them that #1, Seo Changbin, intercepts, tucking it against his heart. Smiling, he sends you a kiss back, tapping his hockey helmet.
They scoop you from the stands after the game, coming off of a rough 5-4 win they barely squeaked in during overtime. All you’re good for is stress relief, but that’s exactly how you like your hockey players, anyways. “Our dumb, cock hungry puck bunny,” there’s fondness in Chan’s voice, especially as he pushes you down to kneeling on the tiled locker room floor.
You should be embarrassed over how roughly they treat you, being moved into place. Changbin picked you straight up once you were securely in the backrooms with them, arm wrapped around the crook of your knees, all but thrown you into the locker room. Your clothes are casualties on the floor, pulled piece by piece off of you by other hands as Changbin kisses you.
It makes you feel small, insignificant, but more importantly, so turned on you can’t think of anything but opening your mouth for Chan.
He grips your chin, pushing it in Jisung’s direction. “Oh, sick, open up wide, baby,” the younger man laughs, tugging his pants down, watching Chan squeeze the sides of your mouth open for him. Encouragingly, Jisung nudges the head of his cock against your lips, gasping at the sensation of your tongue, before rocking his hips, without much warning bottoming out into you.
Choking out a ragged groan, not expecting you to take his entire length so wholly, completely, he’s clearly impressed, judging by the next noise he makes. Your hands brace against his hips, push him further against you, your throat swallowing around him as you start seeing stars. Nose to his pubic bone, you don’t even really have space to breathe, letting him slide all the way out before he does it all over again.
It’s not an entirely comfortable position to be in, understatement of the century, but you’re glad for the attention, Jisung threading his hands through your hair. Another set of hands—not Chan’s, whose hands you are most familiar with, calloused and clever—slides their way up the small of your back.
Jisung jackhammers away, the spit and precum making the slide into your throat too easy. Every time he snaps his hips back, you struggle a breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Even the exertion of keeping your eyes open is too much, letting him get the relief he needs through fucking you.
Cock still in your mouth, you attempt a whimper that doesn’t get past how far he’s stuffed himself down your throat, constricting. This proves too much for him, and he comes unsteadily, spilling across your lips as he pulls out with a wet noise, his eyes shut. “Give a guy a warning when you do that, yeah, bunny?”
Mutely, you can only nod, jaw sore, allowing him to clean up the spittle and cum that had missed your mouth entirely, though clean up might not be the word you’d use for it. He takes special pleasure in smearing it with his thumb, tucking it back into your mouth for you to suck.
“What a pretty picture. Can you show it to us before you swallow?”
With how much you had been monopolised from the beginning, part of you had forgotten that there were three players to take care of. Changbin is pumping his cock greedily at the sight of you, mouth opening, tongue out to do as you’re told.
You make a show of swallowing for Changbin, slow, eyes closed, savouring.
“Fuck,” he curses, sucks air between his teeth as you’re hauled onto your hands and knees, exposed, vulnerable and waiting. “I don’t even know where I want to start with you.”
There are too many conversations directed at you for you to follow, and you feel lost, between Changbin’s cock in front of you, the suddenness of which Jisung grabs your face for a kiss, and the light touches pianoing from your shoulder to the curve of your spine.
Chan, still mostly clothed in the form fitting base layer that accentuates his muscles, touches you sweetly. He’s always so careful in that regard, as he kneels by your side, voice low and soothing, “You want me to get you ready for Bin’s cock?“
A brief respite, Jisung peels himself from you, attaching his mouth to your neck just for a split second, leaving his mark with a firm bite. It’s no less distracting, whiplash as you’re trying to figure out who to answer first, who to look at. He helps you along by turning you towards Chan, tilting your face up and away.
The way Chan wets his lips, you know it can only mean one thing. Parting your legs for him, he bites down on his bottom lip, sucking slightly. Seeing Chan like this makes your stomach flutter, drop all the way into the throbbing between your legs. “Take that as a yes, then?“
Your body suddenly feels like deadweight as he gives your ass a light smack, admiration for you not stopping there, fingers gathering the wetness at your slit. Mewling, you try to back yourself closer to him, to his fingers, the possibility of his mouth, finding yourself being held still as hands go around your neck.
The grip is loose, Changbin’s hands fisting your hair at your nape, just enough to hold you the way he wants to. “Don’t forget about me, bunny,” his tone of voice implies that he’s upset, the pout of his lips pursed, and you nod enthusiastically, hand curling around his dick.
It’s dripping with precum, the weight of it solid, your mouth watering in response. You begin to move your hand, jerking up and down unevenly. Despite the ache already in your jaw from earlier, you’re straining towards him, whining for it. “You’re so eager for someone who forgot all about me. Not yet. Just want to feel your pretty little hand on my big cock right now. What about Jisung, bun?”
Just the mere mention of the last member, who’s just watching the events transpire, has you turning your head to look for him. Right here, he kisses against your shoulder to say, pleased as punch to have had you first, perfectly willing to just rub aimless circles on your body.
From beneath you, you hear Chan rumble, laughing, “You really can’t do more than one thing as once, can you, bunny? Already so dumb just from a little bit of touching.” He’s somehow slipped himself, lying down, easing your legs open further before he grabs and forces you to sitting onto his face.
The stimuli courses through your body, how immediate he knows where you tick. He swirls his tongue experimentally, probing before finding your clit.
All this touching had been very nice, of course, Jisung’s cock all you needed with your mind full of hunger, but nothing compares to the feeling of being taken care of when you’re meant to take care of them.
His fingers squeeze hard into the flesh of your sides, keeping you open, the pressure of it ensuring bruising. While you couldn’t see him, you could feel him just plenty, lapping quickly, doing just as he said he would.
Rolling your palm across the head of Changbin’s cock, he shudders against you, and you’re dying to taste him, lips parted in a daze. In tandem with Chan’s tongue, you’re feverishly close, a product of being manhandled, of being wanted.
Suddenly, you feel the addition of two fingers, crowding against Chan’s tongue, and a kiss at the swell of your hip, a laugh. Dropping your head, you squirm as Jisung curls his fingers inside you. “He’s not getting the right spot, is he, baby?”
Choking out broken syllables that sound halfway between yes andplease, your back arches, pushing your cunt harder against Chan’s mouth, Jisung’s fingertips onto the right spot inside you. Your hand’s stalled, prompting Changbin to thrust himself against your cheek, leaking precum.
“Feeling good?” The tilt of your head backwards is all the answer he needs. “Don’t be selfish, bun. Look at how hard I am for you.” The words nearly fly over your head as Jisung scissors you open, fingers reaching deeper than Chan’s tongue ever could. Between the lascivious licks and the slow, methodical way you’re being pried apart, you almost feel like the orgasm is forced onto you, legs seizing around Chan’s cheeks.
He doesn’t stop his tongue, not until you’re shaking, whining loud and Changbin takes the opportunity to silence you, your mouth barely stretching around the girth of him.
Jisung’s fingers continue to thrust in and out of you, enjoying the feeling of your walls clenching around him, cresting already into another orgasm when Chan flattens his tongue against your clit. The pressure mounts deliciously, burning on close to overstimulation, but you only want more.
“Still so tight,“ Jisung hisses, mouth tracing your waist, interspersing open mouthed kisses with sloppy biting. When he pulls his fingers out of you, and Chan pushes you off of him, you feel as though all the bones were taken out of you, jello.
The arrangement changes again, and you’re grabbed, pulled, in three different directions, seated now on top of Chan’s lap. He holds your legs open, on display for the other two. “I don’t think you’re ready for Bin yet, are you? Even after all the work we’ve put into you.”
As the only one who hadn’t gotten any attention from you, he slides his cock against the slick of your pussy, wet and ready. “Guess I’ll have to fuck you open first, right?”
Shameless, as if you even ever had shame to begin with, you grind yourself down against him, and he laughs. “In due time. We’ll fill you up, fuck you full.”
For better, or for worse, the summer camp you and Felix work at has been a mainstay since the two of you were children. Now in university, working there became an easy way to make some money to line your pockets, the rhythms of it become as easy as breathing, alongside the laundry list of ridiculous rules that keep getting grandfathered in due to unforeseen circumstances.
The lake is cordoned off after midnight courtesy of a skinny dipping mishap with Chan one year, trying to impress his crush. No curry on Friday nights, especially not after the mystery slop Jisung fed to a group of campers who vomited for what seemed like weeks. And after Hyunjin’s shower room misadventures with his then-girlfriend?
No dating between camp staff. None. Zero.
Ultimately, maybe you’re better for it. Without the distractions of other people, work became the priority: between arts and crafts and teaching how to ride a canoe, summers became a time filled to the brim with responsibility and soaking in the sun.
That is, however, before he had heard you, had to lie there inside your shared tent, felt the way your body shifted as you tensed and relax to the slick of your fingers onto your cunt. In turn, you heard the soft growl of his voice, felt the tension of his clenching thighs as he came, the unmistakable moan as he did so.
Then, the dating ban becomes unbearable, as are all these attempts to skirt past it.
“Have your favourite movie,“ Felix grins, sidles up against you in the way you’re too familiar with, Peter Pan in one hand, his chin hooking over your shoulder on the other. Saturday nights, the campers were sent to sleep early, which in your experience, had always meant shimmying out of the girl’s cabin through a broken window they still hadn’t fixed.
You remember the sunrises with Felix in your pubescent years, the drop of his voice and the glow of his skin, sun-loved and golden warm as dawn cracks over the horizon. There will be nothing like that again, jagged rays of light cresting across mountaintops, him hoisting you back up through the window just in time for morning checks.
Felix always seemed to find a way to weasel his way out of consequences, sitting in the mess hall, winking at you from across the way. In the same way your counsellors must have turned a blind eye, then, as Felix shoves the VHS tape into the rickety, ancient player, the two of you silently agree to do the same.
He invades your space with a gracious ease, leans his body weight onto you as the CRT screen flickers, bands sizzling across the thick glass, the sound of the familiar Disney jingle tinny and fractured through the speakers.
Shoulder crashes into shoulder, your skin sticking to his from the faint sheen of sweat, humid summer heat, an act that echoes of an entire childhood spent drawing crayon drawings on Felix’s bedroom floor, trading Pokemon cards with the schoolyard bully. This all sits sharply in contrast to his breath against your ear: “Wanna watch?“ and you know he doesn’t mean the movie, not really.
This has become the routine: while the rest of the counsellors run off for the night to the nearest town, to party and break free for the evening, the two of you volunteer to stay in your respective cabins, trying to stave off suspicions.
The two of you find your way to the staff lounge in the evenings, the only two adults aside from your manager, Peniel, who would rather spend the night playing video games on his wired ethernet connection than being responsible for campers.
Peniel didn’t mind, appreciated, even, how diligently you and Felix worked, didn’t notice the locked staff lounge door, the movie being played just a touch too loud.
It had worked so far, and the hope is that it continues to work.
You’d never been the sort to want to join in the revelry, barely adults loosening the shackles of responsibility in the podunk nearest town. Felix’s insistent on staying back seems to be out of some kind of longstanding loyalty for your friendship, and he makes a big, fussy showing about it.
All of this is nearly believable, but he’d always been the better liar of the two of you. If your colleagues even took the slightest close examination of you, your alibis would fall apart at their hastily knotted seams.
Felix means watch him, as his fingers wander onto the waistband of his shorts, lips pursed and pouting slightly in concentration at the movie as the scenes of London unfurl, static and grainy, across the screen. The light dances off his skin, off those well worn paths of freckled constellations your eyes admire.
When he smiles, the tug of the corners of his mouth speaking to feline mischief, pupils wide, blown, moments before disaster, you wet your own lips and imagine his tongue, the one he bites between his front teeth. “Always,” you reply, an attempt at blithe, and your heart picks up its pace, face turning back towards the movie, one furtive, sidelong glance at him.
He isn’t looking at you, eyes glued onto a movie that he could practically recite, the Peter to your Wendy, seemingly enraptured by the opening scene.
If not for his hand, that continues to play with the string ties of his shorts, pulls the bow apart. He snaps the waistband of it, careful, the sound of it against the skin of his stomach making you jump faintly in your skin. “We’re good?“ Felix intones softly, feeling you move, and his hand is no longer on his shorts, but resting against the pulse of your wrist.
The mere touch slips, settles into ambiguity as he turns to look at you again, as his fingers retreat as quickly as they had arrived. In some ways, it is worse than just touching you, and he feels the fire simmering in his stomach at the absence of connection, the tips of his fingers tingling.
“Yes,” and it seems like you can’t manage anything more than single word responses, the dizzying spin of Peter Pan tugging Wendy off to Neverland an afterthought as Felix swallows again, a mouthful of metallic want.
“Okay.”
As his own hands return to touch himself, to hook thumbs onto his waistbands and pull his bottoms downwards, he watches as you cup and then slide your hands up your chest, the crop of the camp t-shirt just short enough to expose your stomach in the motion. Even breathing seems too much now, the careful way he lifts his slim hips upwards, enough to free his cock from the confines.
Control had never been Felix’s forte, but the rewards had always outweighed immediate gratification, and after all, he shouldn’t be touching you to begin with.
Wasn’t touching you. Couldn’t get in trouble for it. Fantasies in your brains, imagination doing ninety percent of the work. That wasn’t dating, right? Couldn’t get fired over it.
Pretending there’s nothing going on between you is the worst part about this, though, especially as his own fingers, slightly clammy, wrap around his cock, gripping the length. Suddenly, the point of contact between your shoulders, the skin, ignites.
You must feel it too, the way your breathing changes, suddenly through parted lips as your hand snakes underneath the band of your own shorts, and, Felix can only assume, underneath your panties. Though he doesn’t have to imagine it, it’s half the fun, guessing which ones, keeping a personal tally if he’s guessed right.
“It’s,“ you stutter to a start, inhaling sharply past your teeth, a slight arch of your back betraying the fact that you’re sliding your fingers against your clit, the pressure of it growing your arousal.
Your chest rises, and from the way your nipples pebble against your shirt, he can tell you aren’t wearing a bra, makes his hand move against his cock a little more eagerly than he intends, as his own voice rises to match yours:
“What?” The single word contains too many stammers, cuts into the thick silence that the movie barely punctuates. You let out a punched out noise, shaking your head as your eyes screw shut.
Felix melts at the sight of you, pulls your touching shoulders with Herculean effort apart, and turns his body towards you. “Is everything okay?“ Concern is a well worn suit, an expression that he wears well when it comes to you, as he leans in, this time his forehead resting gently against yours.
If not for your hand still underneath your shorts, his cock hard, leaking, pressed against his stomach, the scene is sweet. From this close, he can feel the heat of your breath, the exertion that breathing has on you. When you look up, he realises his mistake as soon as he’s made it, your gaze through your eyelashes freezing him in place.
The part of your lips again, this time to speak, reminds him he hasn’t kissed you, not once, despite all the times he’s imagined it, come close to it, bowed into you when the two of you are on the verge of euphoria. “I’m, frustrated?“ Quickly, you glance downwards, and he understands almost immediately.
“Oh.“ Then, louder: “Do you want me to give you a hand?”
Silence is interrupted by the sound of Tinkerbell, and for a moment, Felix wants to tell you to forget it, to forget the suggestion, the beginnings of a nervous laugh bubbling between his lips to relieve the tension between the two of you.
When you don’t speak, he can feel his body buzz uncomfortably with all the implications, of what the two of you had been doing for going on three weeks already. There would be no way to go back if he pushed any further, past the breaking point, past—
and your kiss is so unexpected that he almost jerks away from the motion, finds himself frantically seeking to return it. There is no possible way his lips could have been yearning for yours, the space between perfect, carved out just for you, the pout of your bottom lip soft and plush. How could it be possible to long for something he didn’t even know until now?
You taste like the crackle of warm sugar, something unbidden, stolen, and he presses himself against you in desperation, forgetting that you couldn’t, shouldn’t be touching like this, even as you incline into him in return. It’s feverish, this kiss that invites touch, and he reaches for you again, traces trembling hand to jawbone.
“Yes?” Felix asks, the word incendiary, asking for a match.
You’re so close that he can see the speckles of colour in your eyes, the whites of them tinged blue from the movie that no longer matters, and you ignite his entire being with a single syllable.
“Yes.”
Frantic, as if he’s afraid you would suddenly come to your senses, remember that you really shouldn’t, couldn’t, Felix shifts your body against his, fits you against him easily.
You don’t sit in his lap, just half your back against his chest, shoulder digging into the slight curve of him leaning over you. He doesn’t kiss you, doesn’t let you again, as he reaches for you, places his palm on your stomach before he also slides his hand past your shorts, into your panties.
There’s hardly enough space there for the two of you, but his intention is clear, his voice barely louder than a growl now, “I’ll help you, yeah? You just gotta let me.“
He can’t feel your pussy, not with your hand clamped over it, but the heat of it is unmistakable, radiating from you. “Open your legs wider,” his voice dips lower than he intends, thick with need, “I can’t help you touch yourself otherwise, yeah?”
And from the sound of your fingers, slicking wetly, you must need him as badly as he needs you. You whimper softly, the words escaping, hurried, as though if they didn’t run, you wouldn’t have a chance to say it, “Lix, we really shouldn’t be… I think we should…ah!”
“Why not?” his mouth fumbles against your neck, free hand sliding on top of your thigh, helping you part your legs further when you don’t make a move. “I’m not even the one touching, fingering you. We can’t get in trouble for something we’re not doing, right? Do you want me to stop?”
You’re trembling on top of him, shoulder shoved sharply into his breastbone as you throw your head back, leaning on him, your eyes upturned towards him again, drunken on feeling. “N-no, I don’t think,“ and your words stick to his ribs, fish hook sinks that tell him he’s already in too deep, pulling at his heart.
Even just the feeling of your fingers, rhythmic underneath his as you thrust them shallowly in and out of yourself, threatens to drown him.
Having you in his space like this feels like knife knicks and salted wounds, and he lets himself have another shaking, careful kiss, ghosts it across the top of your flushed cheeks, darkened skin. “Tell me, okay,“ Felix does his best to keep his voice calm, to ease his own beating heart inside his throat, “Okay? If you want me to stop, or if it hurts, or—”
“It feels good, your hand, Lix, it feels,” your eyes close as you say this, and he feels it directly in his stomach, his cock flexing, dripping with precum despite his best efforts to control himself, “good.“ The struggle to finish your sentences makes him feel like he’s been chewing marbles, like he should gnaw the insides of his cheeks to keep calm.
“Good,” Felix echoes softly, “good. I’ll make you feel even better, yeah?” Mutely, you give him a slight nod, and he feels himself tense up, part disbelief, and he chases.
His hand on top of yours moves, down, past the curl of your fingers, stilled inside of you. You seem to have a late realisation as to what he meant by better, and you flutter, “Lix, it’s not going to…”
He then slides his fingers on top your first knuckle, probing, experimental, before you feel yourself being stretched full with the addition of his finger, crowding next to yours inside you. There’s a soft exhale from your lungs, a gentle rounding out your lips to fit the protest that no longer has any bearings to stand on, “…fi…t, oh, oh my god.”
All he can think of now is the feeling of you, tight, warm, around his finger, the feeling of your index and middle fingers against him only contributing to the sensation. “Shh,“ through his teeth, he then sucks in his cheeks, like drinking through a straw, biting the flesh of his mouth.
It’s all he can do to prevent himself from losing it all together, to fucking his fingers into you, handle you roughly, find what touches against your clit make you break. “Does this help?“
The question earns a reaction from you, a slight movement from your fingers compounding the way your cunt tightens. Felix can’t help the moan he lets out in response, wanting more as you nod again in confirmation.
He’s trying his best not to get lost in the sensation, in the scent of your skin, the sweat that’s rolling down his forehead from both the summer heat and simply the feeling of you, so close to him. It’s made worse by your hips, now moving in small, gyrating movements into his hand.
Touch hungry, he composes himself just enough to mumble, “Move your fingers with me,” before moving his inside of you, pushing you to do the same. The intended effect is the whine that releases from your throat, as if there had been a stranglehold there keeping it tight.
At the same time, your shoulder drop, string-cut, and you nod, seemingly out of instinct.
The motion of his fingers with yours is slow, but with the way your thighs tighten, in time with each successive curl of his fingers, is more than enough. “Felix?“ His full name from your mouth brings him straight back, the wavering of it signaling something wrong as your head turns towards the door.
Quickly, Felix scrambles for the blanket on the couch, throwing it over between the two of you just as the staff lounge door struggles open, the lock rattling. His fingers still inside you, Felix turns his body towards the door, watching as Jeongin walks in, can of beer in hand.
“Why’dja lock the door?“ he slurs his words just a little, clearly from the night out.
“Why are you back so early?” and Felix doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but he feels the way you squirm underneath the blanket, try to withdraw your hand even as he gently pushes the heel of his into the back of yours.
Stay still.
“Car on the way to downtown broke down. We had to push it back up the hill, took an hour. Started a fire with beers by the lake, if you two want to join.“ And he can’t focus, not really, not with the way you tighten around him, around your own fingers.
Shaking his head, he indicates towards you. “Not feeling well. Best friend duty calls, yeah?” It’s a signal for you to agree, but you can’t even manage that much, shivering slightly as you lean back into him.
Jeongin eyes the two of you, near suspicion, but shrugs, taking another swig of his beer. “Your call. We’ll be there. There’s fever reducers in the nurse’s office, yeah?“
Dismissively, singularly focused, Felix nods again, watching as Jeongin closes the door behind him.
With another few pumps of his finger against yours, this time rougher, more insistent, he pulls out of you. “More?“ You’re still shaking slightly, fingers slick as you also withdraw your fingers.
The confirmation is in a soft echo, “More,” and Felix now guides your fingertips, alongside his, to your clit, rubbing, your own touch at first unsure, made firmer by his own touch. “Lix, Lix, Felix,” you whimper softly, and hastily, he shoves two fingers back into your cunt, propriety forgotten, finger fucking you properly.
It’s a delicious release of the flood gates, the way your body responds to him, your eyes fluttering close immediately, as you try without success to stop yourself from moaning, mirrored in his groans by your ear.
You’re still rolling circles over your own clit as he finger fucks you, and the feeling of you, so wet on his hand, so desperate to get off that you’re moving your hips into him again, has him so hard that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The only thing left to do is to make sure you’re coming before he even entertains the possibility of anything else, and he’s desperate for this, too.
“Feels good?“ Felix asks, attaching his mouth to your neck again, this time more purposeful, this time with more teeth, inviting your answer with a graze of them against the shell of your ear.
“Feels good, feelsgood, ah, Felix, I’m, there.” Whether it’s an indication of destination, or the spot that his fingers touch, velvet and soft inside of you, he isn’t all the way sure, but he moves with purpose anyways, grinding into you until you’re quaking, your tailbone grinding into his thigh.
The next thing he knows, you’re grabbing at him, arm around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss as you’re fumbling with kicking off your shorts, barely make it to shoving your panties off one leg, still looped around the other. It’s a flash bang of movements, and he’s suddenly aware that he’s still erect, cock red, needy, just as you roll yourself down against him, missing, mindless.
When he says your name, cups your cheek with one firm hand, you’re shaking your head back and forth. “Please,” you beg softly, and there’s a dirty, vulgar kind of satisfaction in this word for Felix, the way it wheezes out of you.
“Please?” he repeats it for himself, watches you nod, so eager, so needy.
“Empty, please, I need,” and whatever already diminished self control he had professed to having disappears. His hands retreat briefly, enough to grip your hips as he moves you onto him completely. It takes a few uneven tries, you too incoherent to be of any help but grinding down onto him, his cock catching the lip of your pussy.
It makes electricity course its way through his entire body, the feeling itself near enough to make him lose it then and there, and Felix grits his teeth, jaw tight as he finally pushes himself inside you.
The feeling alone is enough, the wetness he had felt before with his fingers ten-fold, a loaded gun as you rock on top of him. There is barely any rhythm to it, barely anything but barely concealed rutting, wanting, needing, both of you dissolving into the sensation of each other.
“Fuck,” obscene, the word goads you into moving faster, and he tightens one arm across your stomach, pulling back as you rise, thrusting upwards to meet you. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Fuck, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. I’m going to fuck you to make it all up to you, yeah?”
And all he needs, really, is the indulgence in your reply, the way your eyes roll back as you look at him, all fucked out, all sex-drunk, “Yes, yes,“ consequences be damned, dating ban be damned, all his.
“Fuck,” You groaned, eyes looking Felixup and down, watching as the boys’ chest heaved up and down, thick, white droplets dripping down it, his eyes half-closed and his tongue practically hanging out “You’re so fucking pretty,”
Felix whined softly, bucking up slightly when you placed your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly. You chuckled, amused by the boy’s desperation, your other hand finding it’s way to Felix’s chin, and, gripping it softly, you made Felix look up to you, his eyes wide.
“Mommy’s own little angel,” You sighed, smiling softly, and the boy beneath you couldn’t help the red rising to his cheeks
“M-mommy-” He breathed, but didn’t continue
“What is it, beautiful?” You asked, and Felix’s pouted softly “Come on baby, tell mommy what her pretty kitty wants,”
“P-please-” He started again “Please make me cum again, mommy,”
You breathed out another laugh.
“Tell me something first,”
Felix looked to you, lips parted, and you stayed silent for a second longer, admiring the freckles spotted around his cheeks, his cupid’s bow even more present with his swollen lips, eyes shining with the beginning of pleasure-induced tears, and so much more, all of his features breath-taking.
“I want you to tell me how pretty you are,”
You watched as Felix’s eyes widened, the red on his cheeks becoming a furious scarlet.
“I-I-” He stuttered after a moment of processing, knowing that if he protested then he’d be scolded “I’m…mommy’s pretty boy-”
You hummed slightly, knowing that you weren’t gonna get anything else out of Felix, no matter how much he wanted you to make him feel good.
“Good boy,” You soothed, running your hand previously on his chin through his hair, your free hand moving up to his cock, taking a soft hold of it
He moaned, visibly tensing
“You’re so fucking perfect,” You growled, and Felix nodded
Kinktober Day 24 - double penetration x Jisung + Changbin (f!reader)
[23:09]
Jisungshivered, eyes squeezing shut as he felt your hands caress his thighs, his ass in the air fully on display for you, along with Changbingripping Jisung’s hair, holding Jisung in place just out of reach of the older boy’s cock.
“You want it, Ji?” You asked, your tone devilish, prodding against his ass with the strap you were wearing, and the boy beneath you whined, his back arching
“Yes- please mommy please put your cock inside me- I need it so fucking bad,”
“Yeah? What about Binnie’s cock?” You raised a brow, making eye contact with the boy across from you, who’s blush somehow deepened, grip unconsciously tightening on the boy in front of him
Jisung looked to Changbin, eyes wide and lips in a prominent pout.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Changbin grunted softly, eyes averting themselves “I want it too,”
You chuckled
“You have no control, baby,” You muttered smoothly before, all at once, you pushed yourself into Jisung
Jisung whined, eye squeezing shut. You leaned forward, hand going to the back of the boy’s head and pushing Jisung forward, onto Changbin’s cock. The older boy breathed out a shaky breath as Jisung’s lips automatically wrapped around him, head beginning to move up and down without hesitation, with Changbin’s hand still on the back of Jisung’s head doing little to control Jisung at all.
“So cute,” You said, beginning to move, and Jisung whined again, the probable smile in his voice so obvious despite his mouth being full “Both of you are too pretty,”
Kinktober Day 21 - dacryphilia x Hyunjin (gn!reader)
[01:28]
“F-fu-”Hyunjingasped, hips shaking as your fingers ghosted over his dripping, bright red cock
“There something wrong, pretty?” You asked, cocking your head
“Please-” He started, voice shaking and lips trembling “Please touch me I-”
“Baby, it hasn’t even been an hour yet,” You smiled, a single finger trailing along his inner thigh, going ever-so-close to where Hyunjin wanted you most right now “You don’t seem like you’re in that much pain? I think after this we can go for another hour, hm?”
“Fuck-” He sobbed, voice cracking, and he squeezed his eyes shut, a tear leaving either eye as he did
You licked your lips, brows furrowing softly.
“What’s your colour, baby?”
Hyunjin blushed, wet eyes opening again only to immediately avert themselves from you.
“G-green-” He managed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down rapidly
“Why so hesitant?” You asked, smile returning even more devilish than before “Is my baby boy embarrassed?”
Hyunjin didn’t reply
“What are you embarrassed about, pretty?” You continued, leaning forward, both of your hand going to his abdomen and running along it, eliciting a shiver
“I-” Hyunjin started, eyes still looking anywhere but you, and face getting redder by the second, knowing you weren’t gonna be giving up the question any time soon “It’s embarrassing…how much your torturing turns me on-”
“It turns you on so much that you’re ashamed to admit it?” You raised a brow “What a dirty pain slut you are,”
The boy whined, bucking his hips upwards. You bit your lip before harshly, finally, wrapping your hand around Hyunjin’s cock, and giving it a quick pump before taking your hand away again. A guttural moan left the boy’s throat, his hips rising off the bed, trying to follow your hand, and once again, you saw tears leave his eyes, and a choked sob leave his lips.
“Please- fuck-” He whimpered, cock twitching
“I thought you liked it when I tortured you?”
He let out another sob, tears beginning to flow freely down his cheeks now. You paused a moment.
“You sure you’re green, pretty?” You whispered softly
Hyunjin didn’t look at you, but he nodded immediately.
“Hm…you really are a dirty little bitch,”
Hyunjin whined, cock twitching again at your words.
“Please…”
“Let’s see how many more tears I can get out of you after I make you cum until you can’t anymore,” You cooed, softly taking his cock into your hand, and Hyunjin moaned, unable to believe the affect you had on him
Kinktober Day 20 - orgasm denial x Felix (f!reader)
[00:18]
“I-I’m gonna-” Felixgasped, hips stuttering upwards into your hand around his cock as you thrusted into him with a strap
You suddenly came to a stop, pausing all your actions, and there was a split second of processing before a long, loud, and probably completely involuntary whine erupted from Felix’s throat. You licked your lips, smirking as you watched the boy’s eyes squeeze shut.
“M-mommy-” The boy started, opening his eyes to reveal tears building up in them
You cooed softly
“How cute…” You whispered, leaning forward and cupping his cheeks in your hand, purposely smearing Felix’s pre-cum- that was on your dominant hand- around his face
Felix’s mouth was hung open, panting, and as he opened it a bit more to talk, you started moving your hips again, resulting in a low whimper. Bringing your hand back down, you started to pump him as well, quickly reverting to the fast pace you were at before.
Felix’s noises quickly started up again, this time with the occasional sob crossed with both pain and pleasure, but he didn’t complain about anything. It was maybe two more minutes of Felix’s whining, moaning, and whimpering until his hips began to buck up sporadically, chest heaving up and down.
“P-please-” He sobbed, eyes now puffy, but he wasn’t yet crying “Please let me cum mommy- I- I can’t-”
“But you look so fucking pretty all desperate and whiny like this,” You said, tutting afterwards, and Felix whimpered
The boy didn’t say anything more- whether it was because he couldn’t, or because he was embarrassed by the praise, you couldn’t tell- he only bit his lip so hard you thought it could bleed when, once again, you slowed down, halting completely after a couple seconds.
Finally, tears started dripping down the sides of his face, pathetic whimpers continually leaving his trembling lips.
“Oh baby,” You soothed, bringing your relatively clean hand to wipe his tears “You’re such a good boy for me, kitty,”
“It-” He choked out “It hurts, mommy,”
“Mommy’ll fix it, pretty,” You smiled “You deserve such a big reward, don’t you?”
Felix managed to stutter out a ‘thank you’, as you started moving, and you smiled, somehow managing to both embarrass Felix even further and make his chest even warmer with the proud look in your eyes.
“Mommy…”Minhowhined, an obviously exaggerated pout adorning his lips as he pushed your phone out of your face, replacing it with himself, straddling you
“Yes?” You looked to him, raising a brow
“I’ve been really good lately, you know,” He said, meeting your gaze with wide eyes
You snorted condescendingly before putting your phone on the bedside table and looking back to your boyfriend, who looked like he was- or was at least trying to be- serious.
“Baby,” You chuckled “What kind of ‘good boy’ so shamelessly asks for a reward?”
“I didn’t ask for a reward,” He shrugged
“Well it’s obvious you want something. What is it?”
“Choke me,” He said, eyes darkening and a smirk finding it’s way onto his face
You blinked, before leaning to the side and grabbing your phone again. Minho whined, and took the phone from your grasp, placing it behind him. You sighed, rolling your eyes shortly as Minho fussed on top of you.
You met eyes with you boyfriend once again.
“Beg me,”
Minho huffed, but nonetheless, he opened his mouth.
“Please choke me mommy,” He said, voice child-like, but that didn’t stop him from begging with the most sinful things that first popped into his mind “Want your hands wrapped around my dumb little throat so bad- want you to choke me like the fucking slut I am, mommy,”
“Jesus christ you’re such a desperate whore,” You muttered, and without saying another word, lifted your arms up to wrap them around Minho’s throat, immediately pressing your two thumbs into the front of his neck, quite hard as well, giving the boy no time to brace himself. Minho gasped, letting out a soft, choked moan.
“At least this shuts you up,” You smirked
“M-more-” Minho said meekly
Your smile dropped, and you let go of him. Minho’s eyes widened and he immediately went to grab your wrists.
“Please-!”
“I was already going hard enough,” You said, placing your hands on his thighs and pulling him closer to you- Minho knew you were scolding him, and your tone was harsh, but the glint in your eyes suggested that in the moment, he worried you “Maybe if you had more concern for your own wellbeing when I’m doing things like that to you-”
“I’m sorry,” Minho said, hands pawing at your shoulders “Please- I- I know my boundaries- please keep going mommy I promise I’ll tell you if I really can’t breathe,”
You regarded him for a moment
“Lie down,” You said, and he immediately got off of you, going to lay flat on his back
You climbed in top of the boy, hands once again, going to his neck and wrapping around it, but this time, you started off lightly.
“You’re such a trouble-maker,” You growled
“Mm- yeah- hah-” Minho started “but it turns you on, doesn’t it?”
You rolled your eyes, beginning to press harder.
“Guess not even choking can make that dumb mouth of yours stop,” You muttered, making sure Minho kept eye contact with you as you spoke “Maybe next time we should try a gag,”
Kinktober Day 16 - face fucking x Bang Chan (m!reader)
[20:49]
You looked up from your phone as you heard the front door open and close, and saw Chanwalk into the room, head in one of his hands while rubbing his eyes with the other.
“Hey baby boy,” You smiled, and opened your arms, expecting him to fall into them
“Daddy…” Chan said, his voice groggy and eyes tired “Fuck…just use me,”
You blinked, trying to process Chan’s words as the boy dropped his bag on the couch, sitting on his knees in front of you, eyes basically closed and head going to rest on your thigh.
“Baby…” You said, chuckling slightly, dropping your arms and going to cup his cheeks in your hands “What’d you just say?”
“Please…” Chan whispered, rubbing his nose into you “I’m so stressed I-…I need to feel like I’m not in control, and- and that nothing depends on me and-”
You shushed him quietly, putting on a soft smile.
“Do you remember your safe-word?”
Chan nodded.
Your smile dropped, and your face suddenly darkened.
“Sit against the wall. Now,” You practically growled
“Huh-?”
“Are you questioning me?”
Eyes widening, Chan jumped up, going against the nearest wall and sitting down, his back flat against it and his legs crossed. You followed, getting up and walking towards your boyfriend, unbuckling your belt as you went. As you stood in front of Chan, his face level with your crotch, you let your pants and boxers fall before slowly kicking them behind you.
Chan audibly gulped.
“Put your arms up,” You said, almost blankly now, but your voice was still stern
He immediately obeyed, putting his arms above his head, whimpering as you wrapped one of your own hands around his wrists, holding them there, before using your free hand to grab your own, almost fully hard cock now, directing into Chan’s slack jaw.
The boy moaned as soon as you went inside him, whining as you moved your once again free hand to the back of his head, grabbing a hold of the tufts of his hair, that weren’t particularly soft- you’d have to force Chan to take a shower afterwards. You held the boy in place as you pulled out, and then roughly thrusted back in. He moaned again, every part of his body except his mouth going slack, letting you hold him up.
“Such a good toy,” you smiled, continuing to thrust into the boy, guttural moans leaving his stuffed mouth, eyes completely glazed over and looking up to you
You continued fucking they boy’s mouth, hand pushing his head forward slightly in time with you, your grip on his wrists not faltering, and Chan’s moans only getting more consistent, making the occasional slurping noise and what almost sounded like sobs.
It was a couple minutes of you simply thrusting into his throat as he sat helplessly, whimpering and moaning, you occasionally groaning out praises or degradations.
“Fuck,” You groaned, head leaning back “You want daddy’s cum, little slut?”
Chan responded by bucking his hips upwards, shutting his eyes briefly before opening them again, and moaning the loudest you’d heard yet.
“Yeah, want my cum all the way down your useless little throat?”
You could tell Chan tried to nod, and you began going faster, before finally, with a couple low grunts, you came, making sure that Chan’s nose was touching your abdomen as you did.
“Good boy,” You muttered softly, pulling out, but Chan leaned forward trying to kiss your tip, a thick mixture of saliva and cum dribbling out of his mouth
He stayed silent for a while as you let go of his arms, and they immediately dropped beside him.
“…thank you,” He muttered, lids heavy
“Anything for my precious angel,” You said, smile reverting back to soft as you bent down to make your own face level with his, your hands going to hold his face, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks “Now, Do you want a shower or…?”
“More than anything,” He replied quickly
You looked down unsurely to Chan’s crotch, the tent in his pants looking almost painful, and so much pre-cum leaking out of it that it had leaked through the fabric.
“I’m so tired…” He muttered, noticing your gaze
“You sure you don’t want me to take care of you just a little bit more?”
The boy hesitated for a moment, eyes casting downwards
Kinktober day 15 - sensory deprivation x Han Jisung (gn!reader)
[00:19]
Jisung whimpered, eyes fluttering shut and arms tugging softly at the ropes that held his limbs to either side of the bed, feeling your hands softly wrap a blindfold around his head, before tying a secure knot to hold it in place.
“Too tight?” You asked, voice low, and Jisung shook his head, face getting redder with every passing second
His breath hitched when he heard you pick up the ball gag on the bedside table, and he opened his mouth, trying to relax his jaw, but as soon as he felt it against his lips, he couldn’t help but tense.
“Are you okay, puppy?” Jisung felt you lean forward, visibly relaxing when your hand cupped his cheek “You don’t want the gag?”
“No!” He said with a rather loud voice “I want it- I just- I’m nervous- but I really want it,”
You hummed slightly, before giving him a light pat on the cheek, and going back to the ball gag, slowly bringing it to his mouth before securing it around his head. You leaned back, taking in the sight of Jisung tied up on the bed, blindfolded, and gagged, looking possibly as helpless as you’d ever seen him.
“You remember your non-verbal safe word?” You asked, and Jisung immediately nodded
Smiling approvingly, even though you knew Jisung couldn’t see you, you looked down to see his cock hard and practically dripping against his abdomen. Slowly, you brought your hand to it, tracing just a single finger along him.
Your boyfriend immediately responded, his hips bucking upwards and a throaty whimper passing through the gag- you could already see drool about to pool and drip at the side of his mouth. You cooed softly, and Jisung tried to whine in return.
Without warning, you suddenly wrapped your entire hand around the boy’s cock, and gave a quick pump. Jisung moaned, and despite it being muffled, it was loud. You smirked, and continued pumping him at an immediately fast pace. Jisung began to struggle against the restraints, head moving around, and the saliva that had been pooling finally dripping down the sides of his chin.
Again, without warning, you stopped, earning a retaliation of muted whines, and the fussing of the boy beneath you. You stayed still for a moment, before getting up from the bed. At first, Jisung calmed down, and he’d stopped complaining, but then you took a step, and another. You were actually just going to the other side of the bed, but the boy immediately began to make noise again, his whining much more desperate than complaintive now.
You decided not to speak, and instead stood still for a while as Jisung’s whines died down, the boy realising now that since he hadn’t heard the door open and that you’d stopped walking, you probably weren’t leaving him.
“You want me to touch you, baby?” You asked, and Jisung nodded fervently
Leaning over him, making sure not to put pressure on the bed so that Jisung couldn’t feel you, you, again, took an almost harsh hold of his cock, causing yet another throaty moan, and you began pumping him.
This time you didn’t stop, and slowly moved onto the bed while continuing your actions, going between Jisung’s legs.
It was only another two minutes or so of pumping, caressing, and taking the occasional pause, before Jisung’s moaning turned into garbled speech that you assumed to be begging, his body movements only getting more sporadic.
“You gonna cum?”
He nodded, whining and whimpering, trying to get out words that he and you both knew you wouldn’t be able to make out.
“Okay baby,” You smiled “Cum for me,”
And a few seconds later, he did, hot white strips spurting out of his cock, hips bucking and muscles tensing, involuntarily tugging on the ropes.
You got off the bed, wiping your partially cum-covered hand on Jisung’s bare thigh before walking to the closet, and pulling out a bottle of lube and a strap, smirking as you looked again upon your boyfriend waiting on the bed, chest heaving up and down, completely unaware of how far from done you were with him.
Seungmin shakily breathed out, trying to control himself as your hands wrapped around his waist from the back, your boyfriend on all fours in front of you, a puppy-ear headband and light blue collar adorned on his otherwise bare body.
“D-daddy-” Seungmin started, letting a whimper escape as he felt your cock prod against his entrance
“What is it, puppy?” You smirked, tightening your grip on his waist, and leaning forward more, beginning to rub yourself against Seungmin
“Please- please-” He continued, whimpering with every word “Please put your cock in me- I need it so bad- want daddy to fill me up with his cum-”
“Yeah?” You asked, and, very slowly, you pushed just the tip inside of Seungmin’s hole
“Yeah- hah- breed me-” He gulped
You licked your lips, smirk only growing before you pushed inside the boy underneath you all at once. Seungmin moaned, and despite him having had immediately buried his face into the sheets to muffle it, you were sure that if anyone else were in the apartment, they’d hear it loud and clear.
“P-please-” He whispered after a couple seconds of heavy breathing
Without replying, you began to move in and out of the boy, grunting lowly every time you went back inside him.
“You’re so fucking tight every time, puppy,” You growled, and began to speed up
Seungmin whined, hips automatically beginning to move back in time with you, but you quickly raised your hand, bringing it down with a harsh spank, and Seungmin moaned again, practically drooling.
Soon enough you were thrusting into the boy at full force, and somewhere along the lines, you’d leaned forward, hand going to the front of his neck and pulling back, choking the boy just enough for it to inhibit his breathing, especially with you fucking him so fast.
“Fuck-” You groaned, closing your eyes briefly
“Daddy- I’m gonna cum-” He moaned
“Gonna cum without your pathetic little cock even being touched?” You smiled, and Seungmin whined before nodding, whispering out a ‘please’ that you couldn’t refuse “Go on puppy, cum for daddy,”
He moaned a ‘thank you’, before, after a couple seconds, he came, spurts of white decorating the sheets beneath him. You didn’t stop, though, and Seungmin’s whines only became louder, but the boy didn’t complain- now that he’d orgasmed, all that was on his mind was you cumming inside him.
“I’m gonna cum,” You grunted again, speed increasing ever so slightly
“Please- please breed me daddy- want your fucking- ah- want your cum so bad,”
“Such a good puppy,” You breathed, trying to control your own breathing, voice uneven from how you were thrusting into Seungmin “Since you said it so nicely, I’ll give it to you,”
It was a couple more moments before you came, moaning throatily and making sure to be as deep inside Seungmin as you could get. Seungmin whined, trying to utter out what you assumed to be a thank you, but he couldn’t quite get the words together.
Slowly, you pulled out, and put your hands on either side of Seungmin’s ass, spreading him slightly as white cum began to drip out of him.
“What a good little pet,” You mused, and smacked him slightly, causing the boy to jolt, and then whine
“Thank you, daddy,” He whimpered, burying his face into the covers once again
Kinktober Day 13 - cum/spit play x Hyunjin (gn!reader)
[21:03]
“Ngh- fu- uahhh”Hyunjinmoaned, trying to swear, but unable to finish the word with his mouth hung open, a trail of drool leaking down the side of his chin as cum spurted out of his cock, and onto his torso
You bit your lip as you watched his hips buck upwards, his eyes rolled back, Adams apple rapidly bobbing up and down, and chest heaving as he tried to control himself.
“Such a pretty boy” You muttered, tracing a finger along his torso, scooping up a bit of the cum as you went, before stopping at his nipple, and circling your finger around it once.
Hyunjin immediately responded to the simple gesture, moaning throatily, his body twitching.
You lifted up your hand, going back and scooping up more of the cum, with three fingers this time.
“Might as well put that open mouth of your to use,” You smiled, bringing the fingers towards Hyunjin’s swollen lips
He whined at your words, but nevertheless took your fingers without hesitation, immediately beginning to lick and suck them, occasionally taking them out of his mouth and kissing the tips before wrapping his mouth around them again.
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” You growled, and opened your palm, looking to the boy expectantly
Hyunjin immediately got the message, and switched to gliding his tongue along your entire hand rather than just your three fingers. His desperation was all too clear in the way his arms were visibly struggling to stay on the bed- as you’d instructed him to do- and the way his cock was now fully hard again, pre-cum building up at the tip.
You took your hand away from his mouth
“Please…” He whimpered
“So, so pretty,” You smiled, bringing your hand down to his cock
Hyunjin’s thighs twitched as you wrapped your saliva-covered hand around him, giving a quick pump
“Aren’t you, baby?”
“Y-yes” He stuttered in return, gulping as he tried to meet your eyes
All alphas get a little crazy when a rut is on the horizon. Instincts immediately push them toward being territorial, possessive, and more than a little bit protective. Chan, however, has always been a little bit more possessive than most, and especially when it comes to you. Not that you’re complaining. Not in the slightest.
A/N: I’ve been sitting on this stupid drabble, partially written, for weeks. It was never quite what I wanted it to be. After a little bit of rewriting, I think I’m finally happy with it. At least enough to let you all see it. XD
Tags: SKZ, SKZ Drabble, Stray Kids, OT8, SKZ!Pack, Poly!SKZ, SKZ!ABO, ABO, Alpha Beta Omega Dynamics, OT8 x you, OT8 x reader, SKZ x you, SKZ xreader, Fluff, Smut, Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Minho, Lee Felix, Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin
Genre: Fluff, Light Smut
Title: Moonmates
“Hey, hyung, do you want to play a game?”
Minho rolls his eyes. “Is it called ‘push Minho until he snaps and murders you’?”
Jisung leans toward him across the kitchen table, chin in his hands, and you recognize the face, the puppy dog eyes, the pout pulling at his full bottom lip.
That’s his ‘make minho do whatever I want’face.
It’s Jisung’s special, and it only ever works if the beta’sthe one wearing it, because trust you, you’ve tried.
Dammit, have you tried.
Minho sighs, and you watch him fold before your very eyes.
“Fine. What do you want?”
Jisung smiles so brightly it’s blinding, and you’re laughing now, watching the two of them together-the overly excited beta, the long suffering alpha-drawing Minho’s glare in your direction.
You hold up your hands. “Hey, I’m not even here. Take your stink eye elsewhere.”
Minho huffs out an annoyed sigh and finally turns back to Jisung, and you note, with slight amusement, that his glare instantly diminishes when it falls back on the waiting beta.
“What’s the game, Jisung.”
It’s not a question, but Jisung doesn’t even waver beneath the alpha’s stare, his grin growing wider and more mischievous by the second.
The kitchen smells like a laundromat.
“It’s a game I just made up actually.”
Minho scoffs, another eye roll. “Figures.”
Jisung crosses his arms and pouts, but it’s not long that he can keep the smile off his lips, bouncing excitedly in his seat as he reaches out and grabs Minho’s hands between his own, playing with his fingers as he talks.
“Okay, no, listen. It’ll be fun.” Jisung sneaks you a knowing sidelong glance, and suddenly you’re worried that this ‘game’ of his is going to come at your expense. He flicks his gaze back to Minho, and suddenly the grin is much closer to a smirk. “Hyung’s rut is coming up soon.”
“It’s literally marked on the calendar.” Minho deadpans, pointing toward the shared calendar that hangs on the kitchen fridge, littered with the pack’s notes and deadlines, where the end of next week is circled in red and marked in bold sloping letters that look an awful like Hyunjin’s- ‘Chan’s rut.’
“Yeah, I know, that’s not the point.” Jisung huffs and Minho rolls his eyes, but shuts up, and Jisung seems pacified, because he continues on, words a hurried mess. “Anyway, we all know how hyung gets around that time.”
You know where this is going, and you don’t like it.
This game is gonna get messy quickly.
“Yeah, a possessive asshole.” Minho states matter of factly, and you think by the slight tick of his jaw that he knows where this is going as well. “Get to the point, Jisung.”
“Anyway-” Jisung overrides him, raising his voice in pitch, glaring down the alpha bravely so he doesn’t interrupt him again. The smirk is back as he glances over at you, sitting silently, observing the conversation. “Hyung gets possessive with everyone, yeah, but it’s the worst with her.”
You decide to play dumb. “Me? I hadn’t noticed.”
You had, in fact, noticed.
Chan’s ruts were intense, to say the least, his head alpha at the forefront, and he was markedly even more possessive if possible with the members of the pack during that time, but that wasn’t uncommon for an alpha dealing with overpowering pheromones.
Whatwasuncommon, was that Chan’s alpha seemed to focus even more on your own during that time.
It was as if his wolf, spurred into overprotective mode, saw you-the lone female-as the weakest link, which you both knew was far from true, but you didn’t mess with a wolf crazed by hormones and instinct, so you let him baby you a bit more, claim you a bit more, shadow you a bit more, and after a week or so, things went back to normal.
Both Jisung and Minho are staring at you now, and you pull yourself back from your thoughts, clearing your throat.
“What does this stupid game have to do with me?”
Jisung turns to you now, angling his body to face you head on, hands clasped in a sort of evil mastermind position before him, matching the smirk that pulls at his full bottom lip.
“The game has everythingto do with you, noona. You’re the prize after all.”
Your wolf snarls at the insinuation but you keep your expression blank as you stare him down, waiting for him to continue.
“We’re all gonna see how far we can push hyung before he snaps.” Jisung announces proudly, sitting back in his chair, as if he has just explained everything in that one sentence.
“That sounds-” You quirk a brow and look to Minho, but his expression is as unreadable as usual. “-dangerous.”
“C’mon.” Jisung whines. “We both know Chan wouldn’t ever actually hurt any of us, and the semester is over and I’m bored. Everyone else already agreed. Don’t be party poopers.”
“Everyone?” Minho asks skeptically, arching a dark brow at the simpering beta.
Jisung sits back up, slapping his palms down on the table, and you hide a smile at the way he tries to pretend he didn’t wince at the violent contact.
“Everyone. Now, c’mon, it’s just all good fun, a way to pass the time.” He turns back to you, eyes wide, but the puppy dog face doesn’t work on you nearly as well as it works on Minho. “We can’t play without you, noona. Please?”
You sigh. “Look, I’m not playing anything. If the rest of you want to risk your lives by getting overly touchy or possessive of me to egg Chan on, then be my guest. The only involvement I’ll give is being passive about the whole thing.”
Jisung takes it as a win, mouthing a quick yes, before he fist pumps and turns to the silent Minho, and you can see, by the way his lip juts, that he’s got his ‘minho please’ face on once again.
Minho sighs. “Fine.”
Jisung crows in triumph and you shoot the other alpha a look that clearly says god, you’re whipped, and the glare Minho returns is nothing short of I’ll kill you in your sleep if you say a single word.
And you don’t doubt he could, so you merely smirk and leave the kitchen without another word.
*****
The game starts when you’re all walking to the corner store that Friday night, it’s close to 1 am and the omegas had begged you all to go with them for late night snacks, and the city lights are sparkling in the darkness, the well trodden pavement from your apartment to the little store warm beneath the soles of your sneakers.
Chan slides his hand into your own, slowing his pace to walk beside you, and you glance over at him in surprise, lips slightly parted, as you ask, “Why are you holding my hand?”
Chan shrugs and gives you a side long grin. “I dunno. Why are you asking?”
You shrug in response and swing your hands together as you walk, glancing up at the crisp stars that are starting to line the inky edges of the sky.
“I dunno. You just usually hold one of the omegas’ hands or something.”
Unless you’re in pre-rut, you want to add, but bite back the words that threaten the tip of your tongue.
“I want to hold your hand.” Chan replies casually, arching a brow at you as you continue to match his pace, step for step. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it just surprised me.” You offer him a hint of a smile and catch Jisung’s eye over his shoulder, the beta giving you a smirk and a look that clearly hints at see, I was right, as his eyes dart down to your hand enclosed firmly within Chan’s.
Instantly, he’s bounding over to the two of you and sliding in between you, separating your fingers.
“Hey, can I walk with you guys?”
You shoot Jisung a glare, but he dutifully ignores you, glancing at Chan’s expression before he slides his hands into your own, linking the three of you, successfully putting himself between you and the other alpha.
“Yeah-” Chan says, obviously caught off guard by the beta’s sudden appearance, but not appearing put out by it in the slightest as he reaches up to ruffle Jisung’s hair affectionately. “-though you already kind of invited yourself, Jisungie.”
“I can’t help it.” Jisung complains, shooting you a knowing look, before he pouts up at Chan. “(Y/N) just smells really good right now, wouldn’t you agree, hyung?”
Chan shoots you an amused, slightly confused look over the beta’s head. “I guess?”
You roll your eyes and pick up your pace, pulling them with you toward the others, who have grown farther ahead the longer Jisung has made you loiter.
“Pretty sure that’s just the KBBQ from down the street you’re smelling. C’mon Romeo, stop drooling and let’s go before Changbin gets all the good snacks.”
Jisung smirks at you and you resist the urge to wipe it off his face.
*****
It’s not that Chan’s not affectionate with you on a daily basis-he is-it’s just that the week before his rut, he gets a little more into skinship than usual, and by little more, you mean a lot.
It’s always just little, innocent touches-sliding his hand along the small of your back as he slips past you in the kitchen, brushing his fingers along the skin of your throat when he straightens your jacket, pressing a quick, little bit longer than necessary, kiss against the crown of your head when he leaves for the studio-but the little touches add up, and you’d never admit it, but Chan’s pre-rut is always hell for your wolf.
Every stupid little touch has your wolf whimpering for more, begging for the other alpha not to leave, and every whiff of petrichor has you physically clenching up, biting back the whine that wants to escape from between your teeth, the whine that cleary begs-
Please, please, pleasetake me, head alpha. I’ll go willingly.
So maybe, the game Jisung came up with is a bad idea-a terrible idea even-but in a way, it does give you some sort of twisted relief, because if the other seven are touching you, are all over you even, then that means that Chan isn’t.
So it’s almost a welcome distraction from watching the clock tick down painfully-counting the last few minutes until Chan gets home-when Hyunjin slides into your space on the couch, instantly plastering his body against your side, arms going around your waist.
The air is filled with the sharp scent of lemon, and it’s a relief not to have to smell your own headache-inducing floral for the first time in several days.
Hyunjin noses into you, and you giggle, reaching up to card fingers through his hair as you complain, “Seriously? You too? Chan’s not even home yet.”
Hyunjin gasps, wounded, and pulls back from you-ever the drama queen.
“I can’t believe you would say such a thing, noona. I just like being close to you, that’s all.”
“Mhm.” You hum under your breath skeptically, raising a brow in the omega’s direction, as he offers you a sweet smile.
“That and-” Hyunjin continues, leaning back into your space again and rubbing his cheek all over you, leaving the tang of lemon and honey behind everywhere he touches, sticking to you like a sweet film, and when he looks at you again, there’s a hint of mischief in his dark, wide eyes. “-Hyung’s gonna be home in three, two, one-” The sound of the front door opening has Hyunjin grinning at you triumphantly as you sigh and shoot him a pointedly stern look.
Chan appears in the doorway, backpack thrown over his shoulder, and you note the exhaustion in his eyes before he quickly hides it back away and offers the two of you a hint of a tired smile, nostrils flared slightly as he takes in the room.
Your wolf keens needily at the sight of him.
“Why does it smell so overwhelmingly of Hyunjin in here?”
“Because he’s overwhelming?” You offer innocently, as Hyunjin gasps dramatically in offense once more and Chan grins.
It’s almost enough to keep the tired whines of your wolf at bay.
Almost.
*****
The morning of Chan’s rut, you wake up on edge.
Every one of your nerve endings feels raw and bristling, as if waiting for something to push you just over the edge, everything-scents and sounds and packmates-is all just a little too much.
You feel exhausted, and you can’t even imagine how Chan-the one actuallyin rut-is handling it.
You find yourself staring into your cereal bowl more than eating it, as Jisung and Hyunjin argue over something nonconsequential on the other side of the table from you, and Minho pours more coffee into his already empty mug.
Changbin appears in the doorway to the kitchen, already bundled into his coat, Seungmin at his heels.
“We’re going out.” The other alpha announces, and when Minho shoots them a quizzical look, Changbin grunts beneath his breath, “Chan gets pissy with me when he’s in rut. And I’d rather just avoid that all together this year.”
“Smart move.” Minho toasts him with his coffee cup before taking a long, slow sip.
“Yeah, he really only likes (Y/N) during his rut huh?” Jisung muses with a smug smirk, and you not so subtly flip him off from the other side of the table, a pounding headache already mounting behind your eyes. .
“That’s cause she’s like his soulmate or something.” Jeongin appears then, the youngest omega bright eyed and bushy tailed, as he reaches into the fridge for some orange juice.
Everyone stares at him silently, and he shrugs. “What? Minho-hyung explained it to me.”
“Well duh.” Jisung snorts. “We’re a pack. We’re all each other’s soulmates.”
“Not true.” Seungmin speaks up, stepping around Changbin to enter the kitchen, as he easily steals one of Hyunjin’s bacon slices off his plate, earning him a glare from the older omega. He chews thoughtfully for a moment. “I mean, I guess in a way it’s true? All pack members are usually soulmates in some form or another, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a certain member of each pack that belongs with another more than the others. And it’s called a moonmate, Innie.” The beta corrects gently, ruffling the youngest omega’s hair fondly.
Minho sighs and sits back in his chair. “God, it’s too early for this.”
“It’s 9 am.” Changbin points out helplessly, and Minho shoots him a glare.
“I have a headache.” You add unhelpfully, rubbing at your temples with your fingers.
“Listen, it’s like this.” Seungmin sits down next to Jisung, who still looks confused, and points at Felix, who has just entered the kitchen, hair still tousled from sleep. “Who does Felix need when he’s in heat?”
“An alpha.” Jisung replies immediately, looking proud of himself, as Hyunjin rolls his eyes from beside him.
“Yeah, okay.” Seungmin agrees patiently, as Felix settles himself down behind Hyunjin, chin going into the crook of his neck, arm around his shoulders. “So he needsan alpha, but who does he want?”
Understanding is dawning in Jisung’s eyes now. “Hyunjin.”
Seungmin nods. “Exactly. Because Hyunjin is Felix’s moonmate. Just like (Y/N) is hyung’s moonmate.”
You let your head slump to the table, and the cold formica feels heavenly beneath the heated flush of your skin, and you point halfheartedly in Jisung’s direction without opening your eyes.
“And your moonmate is Minho, because you’re bitch whipped for him.”
Jisung gasps and stutters over his next words and you bet if you looked, he’s gone beet red and is avoiding Minho’s smug, knowing gaze.
“What-no-’that’s not even-hyung!”
He’s whining to Changbin for help, but Changbin is already herding Seungmin out the door once more.
“Sorry, Jisungie, can’t hear you, got to go.”
With your eyes closed and your head on the cool table, the noise of the rest of your mates talking and the clink of spoons in bowls fades to the background, and you’re all too aware, suddenly, of the smell of incoming rain.
Your wolf whines.
Your body is aching, and as the scent of petrichor floods your senses, and the headache behind your eyes becomes a dull roar, you feel like anythingwould be better than this.
Even if that meant losing Jisung’s stupid game.
*****
Minho ends up winning the game in the end.
He does it in an entirely Minho-like way too, all sneaky and deceptive, telling you that he needs to show you something, but really, that’s just bullshit, and now he’s pinning you against Chan’s closed door.
“Minho.” You whine furtively, eyes shifting to glance behind him, wondering how difficult it would be to try and escape.
Probably pretty difficult. Minho is deceptively strong. And quick.
Here, held against the entrance to Chan’s room, the smell of rain is almost too much to bear, and your wolf is going crazy-whining and circling, begging-and it’s getting harder and harder to stop yourself from physically drooling.
“(Y/N).” Minho repeats back mockingly, a slight smirk curving his full upper lip as he holds you in place with a hand on either side of your head.
“You’re playing dirty.” You protest weakly, because Chan’s overwhelming scent is making you dizzy, and your wolf is pacing impatiently. “Let me go.” “No.” Minho denies you easily, shaking his head. “This is for your own good.”
Maybe it’s because you’re physically pliabledue to Chan’s rut strengthened scent, or maybe it’s the fact that the headache you’ve had ever since the start of his rut hasn’t gone away in days, maybe it’s because you’re just straight up exhausted from denying your instincts-but whatever it is, when Minho leans into your space and scentsyou, you straight up moan, and it’s embarrassing.
“That’s a good girl.” Minho murmurs beneath his breath, lips brushing the skin of your throat, and you can feel his smile against your skin, as you reach out without thinking and clench your fingers around his upper arms, tugging him to you desperately.
“Not fair.” You whimper out halfheartedly, as Chan’s scent diminishes a little as you hear the shower turn on somewhere inside the closed off room, and god, it’s maybe the only small consolation you have, that he probably can’t hear the way you’re stupidly weak kneed for Minho in this moment.
Minho pulls back, his pupils wide and dark, swallowing the swirling gold of his irises, and he tilts his head as he studies you curiously, lips still pulled upward into that damn smirk.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
What do you want? You don’t know.
Because your body, flush with Minho’s, backed against Chan’s door, wants him, wants the alpha in front of you, but there’s a tiny part of your brain that is balking at the idea, a slight swell of nausea building in your stomach at the strong notes of amber clogging the air, and your wolf is snarling, snapping, urging you to find the otheralpha, the one who smells like rain and damp and storm.
God, Minho is so deliciously hot, and the human side of your body desperately wants to pull him into your room and destroy him right here and now, but your wolf is too loud, and your headache is back with a vengeance, pounding in your temples, and everything feels wrong-
Minho looks completely nonplussed, standing in front of you, caging you in, waiting, watchingfor your answer.
You realize too late by the way his eyebrow lifts triumphantly that he has you exactly where he wants you.
“I want-”
Minho takes your chin in his fingers, ghosts his thumb over the outline of your lips. “Say it.”
You’re panting now, and god, is it hot in here, or is it just you?, and the scent of rain is back now, all too strong and all too close, and suddenly, before you can stop yourself, you’re blurting out, “Chan! I want Chan.”
Minho looks vindicated, and you simultaneously want to punch him and have his tongue down your throat all at the same time.
“Good girl.” He praises in a low voice, eyes flicking toward the door at your back, as if he’s expectantly waiting for something.
The door pulls open all too suddenly, and Minho’s arms going around you are the only things that keep you from falling abruptly onto your ass with a high pitched little shriek.
Chan is standing there in all his bronzed glory, towel wrapped low around his hips, hair still damp and curly from the shower, and god, was he always this pretty? How does he look so put together on the second day of his rut?
“What’re you doing?” Chan asks in confusion, eyeing you and Minho, the other alpha’s arms still looped around your waist, and you can’t tell anything by his expression, eyes dark and unreadable.
Mate, your wolf whimpers, wanting to draw toward him, but you stay firmly rooted in place, still staring at him with your mouth slightly open.
Stop. Drooling.
“Nothing.” Minho answers nonchalantly, and if he’s immediately overwhelmed by Chan’s damp smelling hormones like you are, he doesn’t show it, not even flinching in the face of the other male’s rut. “I was just telling (Y/N) that she should check on you.”
Something flashes across Chan’s gaze-hesitation?- and he takes a step back from the two of you, hand still on the doorknob.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”
“Why?” Minho questions casually, and the smirk is back, his eyes flicking between you and Chan-the way you stand rooted to the spot, the way Chan is backing away from you like you might explode at any moment. “I think it’s a great idea.”
Chan shakes his head, and he’s breathing through his mouth now, chest rising and falling quickly, as if he’s trying to filter out your scent before it can reach his rut frenzied brain.
You only just now notice the dark smudging beneath his eyes, the tired circles marking the tan skin like fading bruises.
“Minho-”
Chan’s voice is low, almost a growl, a warning to the other alpha.
Minho ignores it completely.
“Okay, well if you don’t want her to check on you, then I guess wecan find something to do-” Minho leans into you, pulling you back against him, eyes still on Chan, as his mouth hovers over your scent gland, tongue darting out to wet his lips, barely brushing your skin and making you shiver.
The headache is a thundering force now.
Minho’s fingers tighten their hold on your wrist, and suddenly, the sound of a low, threatening growl is ripping apart the air between you.
“Don’t, Minho.” Chan warns from between clenched teeth, eyes swirling like molten copper, body tense, teeth bared.
Chan’s head alpha’s appearance makes you shiver and forces your wolf to cower, but Minho looks nothing but triumphantly smug, as he finally releases you and stares down Chan with that infuriating smirk.
“Check mate.”
Chan loops his fingers around your now unoccupied wrist and tugs you into the room behind him, angling his body between you and Minho, as if the other grinning alpha is a threat.
The threatening rumble emanating from his chest has not diminished in the slightest.
“Have fun.” Minho simply says, still grinning ear to ear, before he shoots you a pointed look that says I just won, and shuts the door before Chan can get any more worked up.
Chan’s room smells so overwhelmingly of thunderclouds that it instantly makes you salivate, your knees weakening just enough that you lean against the other alpha.
Chan has other ideas.
His fingers are pinched around your wrist just tight enough that it stings a little, and you can’t help the small whimper that slips past your lips as he pulls you over to the bed, not even throwing you a glance over his shoulder.
You acquiesce easily-your wolf begging pathetically-as Chan pushes you down onto his sheets and looms over you, tossing his leg over your body, knees on either side of your hips, holding you in place with hands pinned above your head.
You’ve never seen his irises so fiery golden before, and your wolf is reacting embarrassingly, rolling over on its back and baring its throat for alpha.
You try to shove it back down with little to no success as his lip curls, revealing the white flash of his teeth, before he leans over and nips at your pulse point, the force behind the action almost making it painful as his sharp canines drag across your skin.
God, it’s hard to think when the whole room smells like an impending storm.
You huff out an amused breath, and when Chan pulls back slightly to look at you, you offer him the hint of a smirk, wiggling your fingers where they’re intertwined with his own, still pinned, immovable, above your head.
“Feeling a little possessive today, are we, puppy?”
Another low growl escapes from between Chan’s lips and your wolf is excited now, turning circles, begging you to push him, to see how far he’ll go.
You cock your head, studying him, the smirk still on your lips.
“Did you not like it when the other alpha touched me, Channie?”
“Don’t tease me.” Chan grates out between clenched teeth, eyes flashing dangerously, and adrenaline spikes through your body at the commanding tone behind his words.
The storm brewing in the air around you rises to almost unbearable levels.
“Why not?” You question innocently, playing the part of the brat to the fullest, just to see where it gets you.
You cock an eyebrow and return his simmering golden stare even though your wolf is flattening its ears slowly in submission already.
He doesn’t need to know that. Not yet.
Instead, in a brave motion, even for yourself, you surge upward as best you can with your arms trapped behind you, and place your lips against the other alpha’s ear, mouth brushing across his hot skin with each word.
You don’t miss the way his body shudders at the sudden contact, and the self satisfied smirk grows wider.
“What’s wrong, Channie? Does it bother you to watch our packmates allover me when you’re trying so hardnot to lose control, hmm?”
Another growl, and then Chan is pinning you back beneath him with so much determined force that you lose your breath for a second.
The gold is swirling so violently now that it’s mesmerizing, and the air is heavy and thick with incoming rain.
“I hate it.” He growls out, voice low and strong in the back of his throat, teeth clenched as if he’s physically in pain. “God, I hate it so much. Watching them touch you, I wanted to-”
He shudders again, swallowing hard, and when he opens his eyes, there’s a little less alpha and a little more Chan swirling in his irises, if only for a brief moment.
“Wanted to what?” You push, wiggling one of your hands free. He lets you, and you reach up to trace a finger over the line of his cupid’s bow, admiring the way his plush, full lips give beneath the tip of your finger.
Chan sighs, long and hard, as if he’s trying to right himself, but the gold is creeping back in, and he’s giving in to it, you can see it, feelit, in the way your wolf is baring all again for the incoming head alpha.
Suddenly, there’s wolf in Chan’s eyes and not a whole lot of himself.
He leans in and licks across the pink mating mark that covers most of your skin at the juncture of your shoulder, and it’s your turn to shiver, as he suddenly reveals his teeth, dragging them pointedly across your aching scent gland.
“I wanted to rip them all apart.”
His words have something suddenly aching within you, and you don’t know if it’s want, or if it’s simply your wolf, riled beyond belief, by the strong, heady rut pheromones Chan is practically oozing, but whatever it is leaves you gasping.
Chan glances up at you, eyes sweeping across your face heatedly, and there’s something in his gaze that is your complete undoing, because suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.
Gone is the teasing. Gone is the brat. And left behind is you, open and bared, waiting for the head alpha to take you.
“Alpha.” You breathe out, and even that feels like a struggle past the sudden panting that has filled your throat.
“Mmhm.” Chan hums beneath his breath, still sounding more like a growl than anything, as he nips along the skin of your throat, before lathing his tongue over the smarting, red marks he has left behind.
Your body arches up into his of its own accord, and Chan pulls back slightly, a smirk now on his full lips, irises so golden that you can see the moon in them.
You whimper, because you can’t think of any words, and Chan leans over you once again, fingers going firmly around your chin, petrichor so strong washing over you that it makes you dizzy.
“What do you want, baby? Tell me.”
You part your lips, but you’re not sure if you can even begin to form words, lest a jumbled sentence, and Chan’s smirk grows at the realization, white teeth flashing dangerously, and when he speaks again, his voice is a low, guttural rumble in the back of his throat that does things to your body all over.
“Tell alpha what you want, baby, or else you’ll be left to my whims and my wolf is a little too out of control currently to be keen on gentleness.”
His words snap some sense into your brain, but only a little, and you manage to stutter out around the sudden spit that fills your mouth, “Go ahead. Rough is good.”
Your wolf keens in agreement.
Chan chuckles, leaning forward to nose at the column of your throat once more. The patches of skin are already darkening and they sting, but the feel of his tongue, hot and slick with saliva, tracing his handiwork, instantly has them blooming.
“And if I want to eat you alive?” He murmurs against your skin, fingers tracing down the length of your body, stopping as they tick across the warm flesh that stretches across your hip bones, as if waiting for your reply. “What then?”
You’re struggling to breathe now-the rain is heavy and each lungful goes right to your head, making you dizzy-but you manage to nod, before saying somewhat stupidly, “Whatever you want, alpha.”
Chan chuckles beneath his breath, the sound going right to your core, and then his fingers are dipping below the waistband of your pants and suddenly, coherent thoughts are no longer in your plane of existence.
“Good girl.” Chan praises and you’re not sure if he’s talking about your reply or your body’s response to him, but either way, it doesn’t matter.
Praise from head alpha is always good, your wolf preens almost incoherently.
Shut up, you supply back, thoughts cut off by a groan as you completely lose yourself in Chan.
Chan, Chan, Chan.
Alpha, alpha, alpha.
The room smells so heavily of storm and blooming wisteria by the time Chan rolls off of you and collapses beside you with a slight groan that you’re fairly certain your neighbors will be asking if you’ve gotten a new air freshener.
That’s gonna be an awkward conversation to have.
You fumble into a position on your side and throw your arm over Chan’s still heaving chest, his skin fiery beneath your fingers as you start to trace nonsensical patterns along his ribs, your nose buried in the juncture of his throat.
He smells nice-like sweat, and shower gel, and damp earth, and Chan.
You feel him start to card his fingers through your hair and you tip your head back to look at him, meeting his now completely cooled, caramel gaze with your own, his lips quirking upward into the hint of a self-deprecating smile.
“Sorry about all the-” He gestures to everything sheepishly-his room, you, himself-and you tilt your head, watching him curiously, fond amusement clear on your features.
“What?” You ask like you don’t know, crinkling your nose at him just to keep up the innocent act for a bit longer.
Chan laughs, a sharp sound that squeezes past his breathlessness, and rolls his eyes at you affectionately, before reaching up to pinch your side with long fingers.
You yelp and try to pull away from him, but he keeps you glued securely against his side, even though you’re beginning to sweat being this close to his overheated skin and shooting him a glare that could rival Minho’s.
“Yeah.” He nods, as if he knows you get it, and you do.
You lie in silence for a moment, basking in the warm afterglow of being with each other, and then without looking up at him, you say casually, “You know, Jisung’s gonna complain for a week about losing.”
Chan raises his head slightly to cast you a curious look, one eyebrow quirked. “Losing what?”
You focus on the way your fingertips trace across his skin, hiding your sudden grin behind a bite of your teeth.
“The game.”
This time, when Chan speaks, he sounds tiredly resigned and he’s no longer posturing his words as a question.
“What game.”
You shrug slightly and tilt your head back once more to look at him, batting your eyelashes and pursing your lips in an over dramatic display of innocence.
Chan rolls his eyes.
He isn’t buying it.
“Fine.” You huff out, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples in retaliation, but Chan is faster than you, not to mention stronger, and he pins your hand once more against his ribs. You whine and struggle to free yourself from his grip. “Jisungie started it, okay? He wanted to see how far we could push you before you snapped.”
Chan looks slightly amused now, albeit exhausted and long suffering, and he reaches up to run a hand over his face.
“Before I snapped?”
“Yeah.” You shrug again, and he finally releases your fingers from his own. You make a big show of stretching out your hand with little groans of pain so that maybe he’ll feel bad. He doesn’t. “During rut, you get kinda-”
You struggle over your words, pondering if your life is worth telling a head alpha in active rut that he gets a little handsy and possessive.
Finally, you decide it’s better to just get it over with.
If you die, you die.
“-possessive.” You finish lamely, glancing up at him once more.
Chan has a thoughtful look on his features, and you hold your breath, waiting for his response.
He catches you completely off guard when he starts to laugh, body shaking beneath your own with the force of his sudden mirth.
“What?” You sit up abruptly, scowling at him, as you reach out to smack his bare chest, but once again, he’s too fast for you, capturing your hand before you can even make contact. You scowl some more. “What’s so funny?”
Chan catches his breath, wiping at his eyes, and offers you a wave of his free hand.
“It’s nothing. I’m just-” He gasps again, eyes still watering slightly. “-I can’t wait to rub it in that Jisung not only lost, but that he lost to Minhoof all people.”
You stare at him as he starts to laugh maniacally again, and consider calling someone for help, because obviously, rut has finally driven Chan out of his right mind.
His giggles die down after another few minutes and when he meets your gaze again, the gold is already creeping back into his irises, the pupils darkening and blowing, the alpha once again moving in to overtake the human.
Your wolf whines plaintively, invitingly, as if your body isn’t already tired and ready for a nap.
Chan’s alpha had put you through your paces, and you were just getting started.
Chan tilts his head, and you see the perfect image of a wolf in the action, and his mouth pulls up into the start of a wicked smirk, tongue darting out to trace the outline of his lips in a motion that has you suddenly clenched up with want.
Okay, so maybe it’s not all bad. You could probably go again.
Chan loops his fingers around your wrist and tugs you down to him, nosing across the base of your throat, teeth skimming over the lines of your collarbone, making you shiver.
“Anyway. There’s time for all of that later.” His irises gleam golden, minted coins in the tan skin of his face, and he looks more than satisfied with himself when you gasp at his teeth grazing your throat.
[1Hr+ Read/22.4K Words – Human!Jisung x Female Reader, Werewolf!Bang Chan x Female Reader – Monsters!AU, Mostly Plot, NSFW/Smut – Vampires & Werewolves, Suspense, Love Triangles, Jealousy, Developing Feelings, Questionable Coping, Arguments, Sex as Coping, Impromptu Burials, Eavesdropping, Claiming, Car Crashes, Fire, Blood, Knives, Guns, Intense Action, Violence, Personal Injury, Animal Death, Character Death]
Jisung’s hands were warm, if only for the hot water in the tub. These were both assumptions, of course. All you actually felt after the onslaught of events over the course of this night was numb. There was a distant, soothing sensation as Jisung tended to you and not the sting of a cold touch, and there was steam rising from the water, so it only made sense that his hands were warm and the water was hot and this was supposed to be comforting.
Except Jisung was viscerally quiet.
He was gentle, but he was methodical as he examined and helped clean you up after he had heaped you into the tub. You joined him in silence, arms wrapped around your knees as all the discarded dirt and blood that wasn’t yours swirled around you in the water.
Not long before this, back in the study, Felix hadn’t lasted long when Yuna had had enough and ran the iron poker through him again. He’d gasped and reached out, and without knowing what more to do, Lia and Chan had grabbed and held his fumbling hands from where they sat beside him before it was all over. He went quietly, with everyone in the room barely daring to even breathe. Joanne and Lucy still had Judy – Chaeryeong,Lia had hissed back in the hallway – gathered in their laps, Lucy continuing to absently stroke the girl’s hair as if she were only sleeping. Chan had held Felix close before he was finally gone.
And then Yuna wailed.
This was where the whole night spiked again, a pulse that had already run ragged, rearing up again as the only thing the girl knew was that what happened to her sister was painfully unfair. She dropped down, teeth and nails trying with everything she had left to tear Chan apart for bringing this to them – and he only held her. Lia had scrambled up onto the couch, away from Yuna in her fury. Chan let go of Felix and grappled his arms around the girl, pulling her down and so close that she couldn’t get enough distance between them to maul him. That didn’t stop her from trying, of course, as Yuna only kept growling and screaming muffled, unintelligible curses and trying to unpin her arms from where they were trapped between their chests… until she stopped. And it became apparent why, the shaking rise and fall of Chan’s shoulders as he buried his face in the girl’s hair saying more than you needed to hear. They held each other then, Yuna still tearfully and angrily insisting that this wasn’t fair and Chan whispering in her shoulder over and over again that he was so, sosorry.
It was then that Joanne had carefully slipped Chaeryeong’s body off her lap, sliding a reassuring hand over Lucy’s shoulder before she came over and stooped down to get Lia’s attention. Your friend had gone rigid, backed into the corner of the couch, not really looking at anything but the quiet tears gathered at the corners of her eyes betraying her silence. Joanne softly held Lia’s face in her hands. “We can talk about this,” she had softly assured her, barely loud enough for you to hear, “but we need to do something now. There’s nothing else that can be done for them, right?”
Lia did look at her then, truly looked at her, and tepidly nodded. “That’s right,” she croaked. “I need to bury them before sun-up.”
Jisung finally, quietly, moved, letting go of you and striding over to place a comforting hand on Lia’s shoulder as well. He had said that he’d seen Felix and Judy in a clearing in the woods together, just off the path, and he’d seen him there by himself regularly during the day. Chan had dazedly nodded in agreement. His hold on Yuna had relaxed by now, only soothingly rubbing the girl’s back while she still fiercely clutched onto him and cried bitter tears into his shirt.
However, the sudden camaraderie diminished when it had come time to actually bury the young lovers. You, Yuna, and Chan all locked eyes with each other as everyone else worked, and Chan had been the one to finally move and pitch in. Yuna only glowered at you, and you had known instantly that you were, truly, at least partly to blame. Then again, no matter how quickly you’d brought Chan back to the house, it may not have saved Chaeryeong.
Lia had no words when the two lovers were in the dirt. No one had any words except, at last, for Jisung.
“This didn’t have to happen,” Jisung murmured. “But we can make sure it never happens again.”
A dull pang of discontent had rattled your chest, not quite knowing if you agreed with Jisung no matter how much you loved him.
You drifted back to the present, not quite feeling like your feet were your own and the lump of muscle in your chest that resembled a heart feeling more like an anvil. Jisung’s hands were warm as he scrubbed the dirt and viscera off of you. He paused, fingers twitching as he got a better view of the raw wound Chan had raked into your shoulder. You could still feel his hands on you as clearly as you could feel Jisung’s.
“I can only imagine how hard you had to fight to get him to the house,” Jisung grumbled in stark sympathy, almost insisting on it. You were sure there was more than one reason for that, but instead you held your tongue, mindlessly watching the crimson swirls in the water until Jisung was satisfied. He helped you out of the tub and into a towel, before he walked you out of the bathroom and tipped you down to sit on the edge of the bed. Jisung’s eyes were cloudy, downcast as he held your bruised and scuffed hands in his own.
“Jisung, I–” you futilely began before he shushed you with his lips on your brow. Good thing, too, because you didn’t know how to explain what happened with Chan under the full moon.
“I love you,” he murmured.
When?You waited for the next part.
I loved you last night and I love you tonight. That’s what he was supposed to say next.
The silence felt disgusting.
And even though you were all cleaned up now, the lasting ghosts of handprints in your skin felt disgusting, too.
Even Jisung’s.
Jisung was bitter, or at least that’s what it looked like. Or maybe he was distraught over the double murder and burial you all just witnessed and participated in. You suddenly felt sick, catching yourself so blatantly making this about you.
You could hear the girls crying down the hall, an embarrassingly surprising revelation as you noticed that it was the more bubbly Lucy comforting the seemingly much more formidable Joanne. It crashed down on top of you like a wave, just how much you’d focused on yourself lately. Whether it was you and Chan, or you and Jisung, or you and Lia, or you and Rand – it was always you. Even when it was Chan and Jisung getting closer, all that truly mattered was how it affected you. No wonder you made yourself so sick. Putting yourself first for so long made it easy to feel alone on a ship swinging in the sea.
In the fog you wandered into in your mind, you almost forgot Jisung was still here. You almost assumed he would’ve left to find a different room or a couch to finally catch some fleeting, desperate sleep, but he didn’t. Jisung nudged you into bed and followed close behind, still wearing his filthy clothes coated in dirt and blood. Your sun-kissed buck was still in there, though, and his scent enveloped you like a blanket.
His first shaky breath rattled you, a stiff, alarmed chill ringing down between your shoulder blades as his exhale caressed the nape of your neck. You almost called out to him, but instead you settled to quietly slide your hands onto his when they wrapped around you and dragged you close. Jisung flinched, apparently off in his own thoughts when you rolled back over to softly cup his face. When you hazarded a look in the dim room, Jisung’s eyebrows were furrowed deep in every wrought feeling of the whole damned night.
“None of us did anything,” he spoke softly, so nearly a whimper. “We just let it happen.”
“You did more than enough tonight,” you quietly admonished him.
“But we could’ve done more. I could’ve done more–”
“Don’t start that,” you sympathetically scolded. “We all could’ve done more. You can’t carry all of us.”
“Baby, I don’t even feel like I can carry myself,” Jisung brokenly laughed under his breath.
“Then don’t,” you decided. “I’m here. This won’t happen in one night.”
“I love you,” he relented, leaning his forehead against yours as if to end the conversation.
“I love you, too,” you repeated. “I loved you last night, I love you tonight, and I’ll love you tomorrow.”
Jisung froze in your hands when you said the next part, but he eventually relaxed in your arms again, falling into you as you kissed his brow. This was disorienting. For how worried you had been about being monstrous, the way you could shove through your own self-doubt to insist on carrying Jisung when he clearly needed you felt selfless and selfish all at once, a mix of humble and arrogant that made you uncomfortable. Instead of reckoning with this now, though, you were exhausted. Your body felt anchored through the core of the earth and in a desperate bid to shrug off this distress for just a night, you kissed Jisung’s brow again. The only thing was that Jisung clutched you tighter, nudging your chin down again until he could press his lips to yours. This was so wholly and instantly comforting that you disappeared into this, letting Jisung kiss your lips and face as he held fast to you, like you were the last thing holding him down.
Maybe you were.
Jisung gently pressed his palm to your shoulder, rolling you away from him so he could wrap his arms around you to pull your back against his chest again and kiss the nape of your neck. He didn’t say anything but, to be honest, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to.
Except there were Jisung’s lips in your hair, almost in the pillow as he hugged your hips closer to his.
“I love you,” he murmured again. Instead of answering him out loud, you slid your hand over his that had drifted low on your belly, now falling further below your navel. You pushed him along, mutually agreeing on the only coping method that had really helped so far. When you felt Jisung hips almost warily cant up towards yours, you pushed back. This was a silent, more efficient discourse, wordlessly asking and confirming that you were both too tired and alone to do anything else.
Jisung did repeat himself in your ear again when you felt him prod up against you from behind.
“I love you.”
It only felt more distant, less clear now. Jisung followed your hand on his down to your hip and you almost sighed in relief the moment he touched you. You twisted your torso back more towards him, straining to capture his lips in another kiss as he caressed you, his touches quickly getting more harried as your lips met.
“I love you–”
There it was again, and still with no next part. You cut him off, swallowed his words, pulling him in and goading him to let go more until he finally got you warmed up enough to gently ease into you. It almost wasn’t even moving fast enough, honestly, and you found yourself thrusting back, making Jisung gasp and sigh behind you, clutching your hips tight as he nestled himself deep inside you.
As opposed to your obsessive and affectionate love making over the past month, regardless of how much of it was jealousy, it was starkly different from this. Here, Jisung clearly fought between taking his time and finding comfort and safety inside you, and simply destroying this bed you made together and taking out every torrid feeling from the short time you’d known each other now. This was fair. This was understandable. You almost felt bad for Jisung, wanting to stop him and pet his hair and really let him know that you were there, but you were still so torn. You’d learned a lot in a short amount of time. Jisung was jealous. Jisung was clingy and dependent. Jisung could and did already lie to you. You weren’t innocent by any loose definition of the word, but he wasn’t either. Jisung was terrific. He was kind, he was loving, and he was brave in his earned loyalty. You loved him. You loved that he loved you.
But right now you just wanted to lose yourself for a moment in this bed. If Jisung was still repeating his assurance that he loved you, whether for yours or his sake, you didn’t hear it. All you heard was the creak of the bed, your intermittent gasps and sighs, and Jisung’s occasional moan… until you heard his breath shake again.
When you strained your neck back to see Jisung again, the moon in the window glinted off the misting of tears gathered at his eyelashes.
“Oh, Jisung…”
You couldn’t help the way you fretted over him. Jisung didn’t stop you as you lifted yourself off his length and rolled over again, putting yourself into his reaching arms and even pulling you on top of him. His hands clung strong and desperate around your waist as you slid him back inside your warmth, his grip wavering when you gently rocked against him and kissed him once more. Now this was easier, actually, setting the pace and chasing some relief as Jisung laid in the pillows, eyes closed and brows furrowed in his mounting pleasure. This was what you wanted, some white noise to drown yourselves in like you’d done for the past month, only much different now.
It was to such a degree that you almost missed the start of an actual release, considering you apparently hadn’t even been looking for it. Your breath hitched in your throat, and when Jisung finally opened his eyes, your gazes locked in mutual confirmation that you both got to enjoy this, too. Jisung groaned low in his throat, his hands on your waist gripping tight and squeezing you over the edge, washing over into a gentle and fleeting release for both of you. You sighed and shivered through it as Jisung did, until you finally rolled off of him. Jisung turned to face you. The tight feeling in your stomach was back.
“I’m still happy we found each other,” Jisung whispered as he got more comfortable, eyes already closed. “No matter what happens, I love that we found each other.”
You left that sentiment as it stood. It was just as true for you, as far as you could tell. Jisung sighed complacently as you kissed his brow again, right where you’d started, and he was asleep in moments.
Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though. Instead, you were now painfully aware that you really did find each other, and you had a whole life waiting for you back at school. A life with no Jisung, no Chan, none of this. The quiet in the room was crushing, a room in a house a whole lifetime away from your life back in the city. You wondered if Lia contacted Professor Meyer since you first arrived. The more you thought about it, the more you were sure he was crucial to Lia trying to find out more about Shepherd’s cursed cure before he wrought any more destruction.
You may have never even left school if that detective all that time ago never gave you your hint as to where Chan might be. Your aunt’s house hadn’t even been intended to be your final destination; you had been planning on spending a day or two there and moving on to the next town down the coast. But there he was.
There was no way that detective could’ve known what he was suggesting when you gave him your account of what happened in the library. It was odd, what you could remember when your mind was still trying to find someone or something to blame. That detective had been young, handsome in a suit he’d probably worn for a long shift, his tie loose under his sharp chin. He was kind and charming, but he was gentle with you. His eyes had lit up when you mentioned Chan’s name. Detective Seo, you remembered now, when he pulled out his badge to show you. He answered your questions, explained that when you disarmed the security alarm to run inside to your desk, that you also disarmed the rare books section and main office, where they would normally shutter themselves behind fireproof roll-down doors if someone tried to enter without a keycard. Detective Seo, now that you recalled him so clearly, was genuine and knowledgeable. You wondered where he was now, and if he had any idea what he inadvertently caused.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
You must’ve fallen asleep before dawn caught you, as you felt groggy when you finally woke up. The bed was empty. Jisung’s dirtied and bloodstained clothes were piled on the floor by the bathroom with a small mountain of towels. He apparently scrubbed himself raw before going about his day. You scanned the room but refused to get out of bed yet. Jisung’s book that he was currently reading was missing, but his sunglasses were sitting on top of the dresser. His mud-caked boots stood by the door, and his jacket was hung up. He was still in the house, but he wasn’t here. You stubbornly, forlornly, shoved yourself deeper into the bed. If you were lucky, the sheets would swallow you whole and you wouldn’t be hurting over Felix, Judy, or any of this anymore. None of you did enough. No one did anything at all.
The first owl of the night sounded like it was interrupted, and you finally sat up in bed again, only to be distracted by the distressing sound of sprinting, bare footsteps slapping down the hallway.
Another door swung open out in the hall, and now you could get a better idea of just what was wrong.
“She wasn’t with you?” Lia asked.
“No, we thought she was with you!” Lucy worriedly groaned.
Yuna.You recalled last night, as much as you didn’t want to, when you got out of bed to pull some clothes on. After the deed had been done and Judy and Felix had been buried, Yuna sat down on her sister’s grave. Jisung had followed you back into the house, just as the girls followed Lia, but you couldn’t place Yuna in that memory.
Only the frantic sounds of the girls running around could be heard as you silently yanked on your boots and a jacket over your sweater. No one heard or noticed you descending the stairs, and nothing had seemed to alert Jisung that you were up yet.
It was alien and disheartening to be so insistent on him noticing your presence.
The leaves hardly crunched underfoot as they were still trapped in a layer of fresh rain, and you went to retrace the footsteps of the previous night as you headed out to the clearing. The trail smelled refreshing, and the lanterns and solar lights that decorated the path felt oddly welcoming as you walked back into the forest. The cool air that met your nose brought the faintest smell of wildflowers and peaches. Felix and Judy were still out here, growing more prominent as you followed the pathway.
A regal maple tree stood at the edge of the clearing, and the only thing that looked out of place were the patches of disrupted soil underneath it where the young where the star-crossed lovers lay. The quiet woods almost seemed to agree that the previous night had been enough excitement for a lifetime. A subdued rustle startled you. Yuna?
You were startled into a harsh gasp as a deer sprinted out into your path instead, seemingly not noticing you until it nearly ran into you. A rough set of claw marks reflected deep crimson on its hide. You humored, for a moment, if this was Chan’s deer that he freed the other night, but there was no chance. The small doe showed no teeth marks from a trap on its legs. What was even more intriguing is you hadn’t had a chance to closely observe a deer since you met Jisung, not until Chan’s. It really was fitting of him, the way this doe looked and wavered, not approaching you but not rushing to run away. It was as if it wanted to come closer, if not for anything but its own curiosity, but didn’t want to allow itself the risk. You quietly waved your hands at the deer, trying to encourage it deeper into the woods instead of the other way towards Lia’s house. If that thing ended up by the road, there was no telling what it would do if it were scared. You knew from years growing up in a similar area, that while whitetail deer were wary of people as a whole, they had no problem trying to cross a road in the middle of the night, regardless if there was a car in the way.
You finally caught sight of Yuna as she stirred somewhat, apparently roused by the noise, and this was the last push the deer needed to leave. You were left alone with Yuna in the clearing as the doe bounded away. The girl was wrapped up in herself at the foot of the great maple tree, tucked in under a neighboring shrub at the base of the trunk that rattled with the breeze. You rushed over, dropping to your knees beside her and gently shaking her shoulder. Yuna awoke with a start. She gasped when her eyes snapped open and she quickly took in her surroundings, first the night and the trees and finally you.
“Oh crap,” Yuna groggily murmured, “did I–”
“Yeah,” you sympathetically nodded, “everyone’s looking for you. They’re going to be glad you’re alright; I don’t need to tell you how dangerous being caught outside during the day could’ve been.”
Nonetheless, Yuna was in no rush to return to the house. You waited, almost cautious to see how Yuna would emerge from her day sleeping out in the open. Instead, the girl simply sat up and combed the leaves out of her long, black hair with her fingers.
“Last night, I hung back and sat for a second, and I remembered something,” Yuna wearily began, almost as if she were lost on her way to being fully awake. “When I was little, I got stuck playing hide and seek with my sister. Literally stuck. Chae found me crying, upside down, wedged between a sofa and an end table in a dark sitting room. She told me I’d always be safe if we were together. And as a tiny, stupid brat, I told her we couldn’t always be together. That would be impossible. So Chae told me that as long as she was alive and breathing, that we would always be together, no matter if we were far apart.”
You listened, unsure of how exactly to proceed when another jarring rustle coursed through the leaves, separate from the light wind. Suddenly, you were brought back to your twilight encounter with Felix. You wondered if he helped Chaeryeong feel safe out here in the clearing.
Yuna sighed, either ignoring the sound or not noticing it. “My sister has had crushes and boyfriends before. When Lia and Ryujin first scooped us up, they tried to put us in extracurricular activities to keep us social when Lia wasn’t homeschooling us, but of course that’s hard when night school isn’t really a thing out here and there’s not much for girls our age to do after dark. She’d let us go to some local dances, and Chae would always find a boy, but none of them were like… him. She’s never been like she was with Felix.”
The brisk chill of the night air crept up your neck. Every pull you felt towards Chan since you had met him kept clawing at you. The pain you heard in Chan’s voice as he tried to reason with Felix sounded just like Felix’s own desperate defenses of his behavior.
You could believe it.
Whatever you and Chan were denying yourselves and each other, Felix and Chaeryeong naively welcomed until it destroyed them. They were in love, sure, but there was surely something else there as well.
“I don’t know why Lia couldn’t tell her,” Yuna scorned. “I don’t know why she couldn’t tellmewhen I asked. I don’t know why no one even told you, apparently. No one did anything. We’d never even met lycans before, so why couldn’t Lia do the bare minimum to protect us? I love Lia. I literally owe her my life. But now I feel like she’s protected us by simply hiding us away from everything. And now I’m just alone.”
“You’re not alone,” you weakly insisted.
“You know what I mean,” Yuna bluntly bit back.
“Please come back to the house,” you gently pleaded, “you know the girls are beside themselves.”
“You’re right,” Yuna relented. She ignored your offered hand to help her up and got up to her feet herself before she pointedly looked at you. “Lia and Jisung let us down, you know that, right? They let us down and now my sister is gone.”
“You’re right,” you firmly agreed. “Now let’s head back.”
The two of you walked in exhausted silence through the other end of the clearing, opting instead to walk along the lakefront where there would be more moonlight along with the lamps the girls had placed along the path some time ago. Lia’s home loomed, feeling more like a memorial than a house. The rocks along the edge of the lake clattered under your boots when you felt Yuna pause next to you. You followed her gaze before you paused as well.
Chan sat, still dozing himself, curled up in his lawn chair at the line where the woods gave way to the small shore. The moonlight highlighted his bleached tresses, even bringing out his naturally dark undergrowth. A few beer bottles lay at the foot of his chair. You could hardly stop Yuna as she impulsively marched up to him, kicking a foot up into the arm of Chan’s chair and toppling it over.
Chan awoke with a sputtered curse before he quickly got his bearings, shuffling away from Yuna with his fingers scrambling against the rocky ground. “Hey–!” Chan snapped, only to swallow it back down once he noticed who it was.
“What do you even do?” Yuna scowled. “Lia told me you’re some cop and she’s helping you out, but what are you doing for us? All I know is you didn’t keep Felix away from my sister.”
“I didn’t,” Chan shook his head miserably, “and I should’ve. I tried but I didn’t try enough. I let myself get so caught up trying to keep my one last contact back at my base. This one last detective has been watching everyone on the force blackball me and–”
“Maybe for good reason,” Yuna seethed. She stepped closer, making Chan reflexively shuffle back. You winced as you remembered Chan, under you and retreating the same way in the boiler room. “What have you even accomplished?” Yuna continued. “My sister is dead, Chan, and for what?”
“I’m sorry–”
“I don’t give a shit, and you know that,” Yuna hissed. “Do you have any siblings? I doubt it, because if you did you would’ve known you wouldn’t just be protecting herif you kept her away from Felix. I can’t believe Lia said you’d help us.”
Chan was cryptically silent for once, returning Yuna’s hard gaze before you finally laid a hand on her shoulder.
“You know he isn’t worth it,” you prodded her. “He isn’t going to help you settle this inside of you.”
“Why would I want his fucking help?” Yuna laughed in exasperation. “He’s the last person I want help from. I’m furious, I’m numb, I’m heartbroken, I’m all sorts of things right now, and I just know that he’sa huge reason for that. I’m allowed to be angry. I’m allowed to be fucking pissed.”
“You’re right,” Chan murmured, catching you off guard. Any and all energy sounded sapped out of him. However, as Chan only looked at Yuna, Yuna only looked at you. And, as much as you wanted to try and help the girl into a less destructive mindset, you knew damn well that you would be in the exact same place in her situation.
Finally, though, Yuna seemed to be sated. The girl let out a deep, steadying breath, and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she walked back to the house. Chan could be heard finally getting to his feet behind you as you rushed along behind Yuna, trying to keep up. Yuna marched right up to the back porch of the house and into the kitchen.
Joanne – Ryujin, rather, if you thought you recalled correctly – and Lucy both sprang up from where they sat at the breakfast nook, but Yuna only stomped past them and out to the foyer so she could go upstairs. You all exchanged glances as Yuna’s door could be heard slamming shut. Behind you, a set of footsteps could be heard out on the porch, but Chan didn’t join the two of you in coming inside.
“Thanks for finding her,” Lucy said somberly from across the kitchen. Despite her normally lithe stature, Lucy seemed markedly stiff. The sleeves of her comfortable henley were rolled up to her elbows, and her long hair sat in a cursory knot atop her head. Between her and Ryujin, a bucket of cleaning supplies sat on the counter.
“I’m just glad she’s alright,” you awkwardly placated as you excused yourself into the foyer and up the stairs as well. As true as it was, just standing in Lia’s home felt suffocating now. You could only imagine how much deeper that penetrated for Lia herself and the girls, who’d lived here for years. This was their sanctuary, almost too tucked away from the world, but it was almost as though there were a gouge running through it now.
You weren’t sure what you were looking for as you retreated to your room, but there was a pang in the void that once was your chest when you saw that the lights were still off and there was no sign of Jisung. The question of what you even wanted to find him for was plaguing you. It would be selfish to need comfort, but Jisung more than likely needed comfort himself. That was surely a good reason to go find him, so it only made sense to go looking for him.
Settling for this measly rationale, you headed towards the landing once again. Off to the side, another bucket of cleaning supplies sat where Judy had spilled out of her room just the other night. A faint stain on the hardwood trailed from the faded ghost of a puddle and down the hall, likely where Lia dragged Felix along. The sight of Lia’s nails digging into Felix’s arm where she had just shot him made you wrinkle your nose as you absently followed along, missing the way downstairs altogether.
However, here you saw a light on in the study, with the door only partially closed. You ducked past the doorway, hoping to see inside from the dim hallway. Within the study you could make out the rug on the hardwood floor, rolled up and pushed to the side. The floor shined like it was still drying after being scrubbed. On top of the end table closest to you, Lia’s revolver still sat, almost hidden behind a lamp. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you after all – Lia’s gun looked just like the one Jisung had lifted from Shepherd.
In fact, it wasn’t just Lia’s gun in the study. Lia sat on the couch… and there was Jisung. He wore his coat, looking like he had gone out after all – but exactly where to, you had no idea.
You were almost surprised, watching Jisung holding your friend close, gently stroking her hair as she lay collapsed into his shoulder, but you were also relieved. This was understandable. Jisung and Lia were kindred spirits, this much was readily apparent by now. But just like Jisung could keep secrets from you, so could Lia. You thought back to what Yuna said, about both of them letting all of you down. It was a tough pill to swallow.
“I just… I don’t even know what to do. I don’t know what I cando.”
Lia. Her voice roused you from the slope you were on the precipice of falling down.
“Come on, Julie, think for a second,” Jisung softly admonished, “there’s nothing you need to do right now.”
Julie? That was rich. From the moment you met her, it was abundantly clear that it was Lia or maybe Julia, but never Julie.Julie was Lia’s grandmother, which was all you knew and were allowed to know.
But it seemed that perhaps Jisung was allowed to know.
“I know, darling,” Lia sighed, “I just… This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t want the poor boy to die. Just the opposite. But first he needed to understand how precious this gift was. He had to feel like he was dying to appreciate being alive… But then I got him killed.”
For once, your mind and gut agreed and shared the same conflict. You wanted to leave, but your feet remained rooted in place.
“You know you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t even have to do it here. You could go somewhere, you know,” Jisung encouraged. “Leave this behind and take a break.”
“I thought about that,” Lia agreed, “part of me wonders if I could ask Sam to take us in for a couple weeks, just to get away. The Meyer estate is huge, and I could take that godawful journal with me and leave them there.”
Professor Meyer? This made sense if he was more involved, now that you thought about it. Samuel Meyer acted like an old curmudgeon despite not looking a day over 50, and he was one of the first people Lia introduced you to when you first found each other. Finding out that someone like you could engage in life as normal gave you a good bit of hope in the beginning of all this, when that used to be your lowest point. The Professor prided himself on his rare books, and even gave you Lia’s old job, cataloguing and researching any and all old texts. There were times in your work where it was apparent that a book was rare, but sometimes it didn’t make sense why each and every of these books had value. The first time you expressed this thought to Professor Meyer, the man was nearly beside himself before he patiently sat himself next to you and explained that each book has value, but sometimes only to the right reader.
“See?” Jisung softly enthused. “That’s a great idea.”
“I just…” Lia shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know how to explain that I finally found what I’m looking for.”
This sentiment raked into you with a surprising vigor. Your fists clenched as you thumped the door open. Both Lia and Jisung jumped, whipping around to face you standing in the doorway.
“Sweetheart–” Lia gasped.
“You don’t know how to tell him?” you rudely interrupted. “Seems the two of you don’t quite know how to tell anyone anything lately.”
“We’re not starting that again,” Jisung shot back, “that’s not fair and you know it–”
“Oh, don’t I know it!” you snapped. “If I had known, or Felix or Chaeryeong or even Yuna had known, we could’ve been more careful. I could’ve been more careful. That’s what isn’t fair.”
“Yeah?” Jisung sarcastically asked as he stood up now. “What did you need to be careful about?”
“Don’t give me that shit,” you harshly pleaded. “You knewand you still weren’t careful. You were stillwith him.”
“Just like you were?”
The question was plain and simple and hurt like hell.
“What do you want me to prove to you, Jay?” you asked, more quietly now, and hopefully with a more level head.
“Come with us to Professor Meyer’s,” Jisung bitterly offered. A goddamn ultimatum. “Leave Chan to his shit once and for all. Come with me.”
Jisung stepped forward. You took one step back.
“I can’t just leave this behind when we’re so deep in it,” you insisted with a weak shake of your head.
“Deep in it? I’m half-convinced your loyalty just lies elsewhere.”
“That’s not fucking fair, Jay,” you bit back, “even you like Chan plenty.”
Jisung reeled, astounded. “Sure! But I’m not the one that fucked him even though I hate him! I’m not a slave to my instincts like some fucking monster!”
The silence that stabbed down into both of you only stung more with how much Jisung appeared to immediately regret what he said. His hard glare suddenly softened, his fists unclenched as he retreated one step himself now.
You let out a pathetic scoff, your chest caving in a little more. “Fuck, Jay…”
“I… you know I love you.”
“When?” you bristled. “Tonight? Tomorrow?”
That same silence grew to be crushing in a matter of moments when Lia actually moved on the couch, as if she were about to finally say something.
Except the only sound that came next was some sort of crash downstairs.
And a piercing scream.
The three of you took a second to unfreeze and leap into action, Lia already desperately sprinting downstairs ahead of you and disappearing down the hall. You weren’t sure what to expect – blood, carnage, or anything similar – but it absolutely wasn’t Rand and the pack grinning as you turned the corner into the kitchen.
“There you are, little one.”
Rand smiled devilishly under his scraggly beard. He held Lia by the shoulder, while two other wolves held Lucy and Ryujin. “We have some unfinished business, but first we need to figure out where the rest of our friends are hiding.”
Almost as if on cue, one wolf dragged a kicking and snarling Yuna into the kitchen behind you. Two more tugged Chan along, cursing and struggling from the direction of the den. You each shared frantic glances again, just like the previous night in the clearing, when Rand led the way towards the dining room and you were all pulled along inside.
“There we go,” Rand nodded as he pushed Lia towards her girls. “So this is the famous Lia I’ve read about. You’re much smaller than I pictured. Now, someone needs to tell me where that damn journal is.”
“Leave them alone–!” Chan spat before a wolf quickly brought it upon himself to stuff a rag in his mouth. However, you agreed with how on edge he already was. It was abundantly clear that there were now a total of five vampires available for them, and Rand especially appeared to be very aware of this as he leered closer. A hand tepidly squeezed onto yours. Whether for your sake or his, you were still thankful for Jisung’s gesture despite having slung vitriol at each other just minutes before. He called you a fucking monster, but you were foolishly relieved nonetheless.
“The journal isn’t here,” Lia growled, her arms stretched out to shield the girls behind her. “I shipped it to the University two days ago.”
Rand and his cohorts shared some dubious looks, but you caught the pointed stare Lia directed at Jisung, and you knew instantly that this could only spell trouble. Wherever the cursed things were hiding, only Jisung and Lia knew. However, that wouldn’t help any of you right now, but perhaps the idea you just had could.
Jisung jumped as you reflexively squeezed his hand in yours and he immediately tried to silently deter you. You wouldn’t be discouraged though. Rand leaned down, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed the girls and landed on Yuna. The girl recoiled to shrink behind Lia, even though she stood a good head taller than your friend.
“I’m not sure I’m in the mood for lies, Lia,” the pack leader shook his head, “and I’m thinking that the scar tissue you’re probably hiding won’t protect you much. You took quite the bite some time ago.”
“It’s true,” Lia insisted, trying to get Rand’s attention onto her instead, “I can give you names, dates, everything–”
“Lia,” you barged in, finally getting Rand’s leering gaze off of Yuna as everyone looked at you, “you know that isn’t working. They’re going to find the journal even if none of us talk.”
“Oh, little one, you docare,” Rand meanly cooed as he stepped closer. “Tell me.”
You held your ground. “There’s a safe in the study.”
Jisung clenched onto your hand as he glanced sideways at you. He still tried to keep his chin up, but it wasn’t hard to imagine that he could perfectly recall just how much and how easily Rand worked him over the last time he got in the way. Lia, across the room, gave you a wary look. It was a bold lie, more bold than hers, but it was your only idea.
“A safe,” Rand repeated, clearly doubting you, “in the study.”
“Yeah,” you nodded as confidently as you could muster.
“And what,” Rand set his jaw firm as he took another step closer, “you just don’t care about protecting your friends anymore?”
“Ido care,” you retorted, “even if they don’t seem to feel the same.”
Lia’s eyes were downcast when you looked past Rand’s shoulder, and you knew it was a low blow, but it needed to be done.
“Would you look at that,” Rand chuckled darkly, “looks like there’s some hurt feelings going around. Now come on. Everyone is going to patiently wait right here for you to show me.”
With this, the pack leader quickly snatched your shoulder and shoved you out of the dining room.
“Lead the way,” Rand commanded. You took one last look behind you at Jisung as you were pushed out to the foyer, sucked in a breath, and headed up the stairs. It felt as if nearly every step and floorboard creaked underfoot, almost begging you not to go into the study as you neared. You tried to leave the door ajar when you stepped inside, only for Rand to yank it closed. He stood between you and the way out now. You were alone with the pack leader.
“Go on,” Rand pushed, almost softly. Almost a request. You turned to face the study, with the stuffing still spilling out of the couch and the rug still rolled off to the side. The end table rattled when you pretended to bump into it by accident, trying to appear nervously clumsy as Rand paced behind you, now looking at the contents of the shelves and a writing desk by the door. You surreptitiously lifted Lia’s gun off the table as you steadied it and let out a shaky breath, trying to keep track of everything as you crossed the room to the far wall, where a painting of Lia and her grandmother hung. This was the tough part. You slipped the small revolver into the front of your jeans, the cool handle tingling against your lower abdomen as you lifted the heavy painting and set it on the floor in front of you. Hopefully, by standing right in front of where the picture had been hanging, Rand wouldn’t readily notice you were only facing a blank wall. Rand shuffled papers and pens on the writing desk behind you. If he was trying to distract you, it was almost working as you methodically withdrew the gun out of your jeans and surreptitiously clicked back the hammer. The metal felt damp in your hands.
A drawer slammed behind you.
You whipped around, your back flat against the wall as you heard a faint whistle and a sharp thud when you steadied the gun in front of you and fired.
Only once the ringing throughout the study dulled did you notice an old-fashioned letter opener stuck into the wall, right where you had previously been standing a moment before.
Rand stood beside the modest hole you blew into the door before he stalked across the room to corner you up against the wall.
“There’s a safe in the study, huh?” he grinned down at you, eyes wild.
“What are you going to do about it?” you stubbornly challenged.
“It’s not what I’mgoing to do, little one,” Rand calmly explained, “it’s what you’regoing to do.”
You hardly got a chance to even think of a response when he snatched the gun out of your hand and grabbed your wrist. Rand shoved the gun into his jacket pocket, ignoring your struggling as he dragged you downstairs.
Once you’d reentered the dining room, the relieved gazes of Chan, Jisung, and all the girls told you that they’d been convinced that the gunshot they’d heard had been for you, but the relief didn’t last long as Rand grabbed you by the collar of your sweater and tossed you on top of the dining table. You scrambled to sit up and jump off the table before Rand’s cronies stepped up and shoved you back into place as Rand himself hopped up onto the table to take care of you himself.
“What do you even need the journals for,” you demanded, “you already know what’s in them.”
“I don’t have to tell you there’s plenty of gaps in the one journal I have in my possession,” Rand refuted as he grabbed onto your ankle and hauled you over so you were flat on your back, “all I know is the girl needs to be claimed for this to work.”
The way he said it was more of a threat.
The way everyone jumped at what Rand said made it more of a surety.
You thrashed and struggled under Rand as he worked at the sleeves of your jacket.
“What the fuck are you doing?! Get off of her!” Jisung hoarsely yelled as he leapt forward, only to be intercepted by a couple of Rand’s goons.
“What am I doing?” Rand thoughtfully repeated. “I’m looking at my options.” His eyes never left you, even as you desperately looked around as much as you could, looking for any way out possible. Chan was still trapped under a pile of two or three wolves holding fast onto him. Lia wavered with a restrained look of growing terror, still holding her arms out behind her to protect her girls. You could hear them exhaustedly sniffling and whimpering behind her.
Rand unceremoniously yanked your sweater off over your head and dropped it on top of your jacket, the cool of the room draping over your chest, protected only by your thin camisole, and only exacerbating how your fingers had turned to ice. The breath fell from your lips in broken heaves. This close, the wolf’s stench of rotten veal and kerosene was enough to make you retch. Rand reached now, his rough fingertips sliding over your throat and tipping your head to the side and all you could do was claw at his arm as his other hand trailed over the bite he originally left on you.
There was a hesitance in the room.
Your feet uselessly kicked at the table as Rand dove into you, his teeth piercing into your flesh to reclaim the chunk of skin he’d stolen from you all those short nights ago.
Just like last time, your own scream sounded miles away, and more like it belonged to some trapped, wild animal.
In the haze of adrenaline coursing through you, you worked past the searing pain in your shoulder to get an elbow against Rand’s and make his arm buckle enough to make him falter. You finally got a foot into his hip and stomped down and away from you, enough to make the tall wolf slide backwards and give you enough room to roll and lunge forward.
A small puddle of blood landed on the table under you as your palms pressed to the polished wood, and it almost made you pause, just how much of it there was already.
However, a grip on your ankle interrupted you, and you cried out as Rand reeled you back under him. His gaze bore into you as he simply knelt on your hands, pinning you under him and his dark, empty stare as he shucked off his heavy jacket.
“You’re running out of chances,” he said softly, only to you. His teeth were stained with your blood. “Has anyone told you that you smell like a fox? I catch it in the middle of the night, as if you’re as close as you are right now.”
“Fuck you!” you spat, trying with all the strength you could gather to try and reclaim your hands as Rand reached down and pulled a pocket knife out of his boot. He flicked it open and held the blade in his teeth. The wolf took his time as he rolled a sleeve of his flannel shirt up to the elbow. You sucked in a coarse breath and coughed into another furious yell, trying anything to get out from under him. Rand gently smiled. He was almost serene as he dragged the blade across his forearm. You wrenched your eyes shut.
The room collectively held its breath as the first drop of Rand’s blood landed on your shoulder, mixing into the viscera he’d exposed. However, you opened your eyes as you felt the most puzzling sensation – your shoulder went numb, if only for a moment. Rand was frozen over you, watching in abject confusion. You craned down to see as another drip from the wolf’s arm fell onto your shoulder… and slid right off. It almost leapt off, bubbling like oil on a hot pan. You noticed now how much you were shaking.
And then Rand laughed.
It was a roar of a laugh, an almost surprising sound from the slim man if his deep voice didn’t already plague your passing thoughts.
“Well,” Rand wheezed with a hearty shake of his head, “isn’t that something.”
He twisted at the waist to address the room.
“Already claimed.”
From what you could see on one side of the room, Chan paled, eyes wide at the announcement. Likewise, on the other side of the room, Jisung flushed, faltering away from the wolves who had been trying to keep him from approaching the table.
“Well,” Rand shrugged, “if I can’t claim her myself, it looks like I only have a limited set of options to get my missing journal – unless there’s any objections.” With this, he mockingly turned, first to Lia, then Jisung and Chan. It was at this moment you noticed the crushing weight on your left hand fade for a second, and you took your chance.
You yanked your hand out from under Rand’s knee the second you were able to, and once the man tried to pin you back down, you struggled enough to shove him over and free your other one. Rand grunted and gripped onto your throat again before he began to squeeze, but not before you reached a hand up and onto his own neck to try and keep the distance between you. The wolf snarled and pushed down closer, one hand clawing into your hair as he tried to get control again. His fierce gaze pierced into you as you fought, and that’s when you heard it again.
It felt like ages since you’d heard that small voice that pushed you to eviscerate Chan, but you knew plain and simply that that little voice could easily fade into your own thoughts. This time, though, it was loud and clear.
Do it, it murmured, teach him a lesson.
And just like last time, your obeying seemed automatic.
The next time Rand shoved deeper and closer towards you, you were the one to claw into his hair, holding fast to him as you made sure to free one hand.
“I have some objections,” you choked out, before you jammed your thumb into the man’s eye and twisted, grimacing at the uneasy feeling of something bursting and sliding against the digit.
Rand wailed, throwing his head back away from you and clutching onto his face.
“You little bitch,” Rand bellowed as you shoved your way out from under him, “you awful cunt!”
Your hands shook as you dug into Rand’s jacket and found the revolver, but you hardly had any time before the wolf grabbed onto you again. The gun flew out of your hands and clattered down to the far end of the table.
Everyone moved at once. You struggled to get out of Rand’s clutches, but a distinct gunshot rang out in the room. When you all paused, one wolf dropped, revealing Lia holding the revolver. Three shots left. She trained the gun’s muzzle on Rand now.
Rand fell backwards, fumbling off the table and into the kitchen.
“I don’t think I made myself clear,” he hoarsely yelled, “all I want is a cure. All I want is for it all to stop. I’m taking away one of your exits and you’re running out of choices. Now I’m going to get that journal.”
First, Rand flicked on the gas range of the stovetop.
“Well?” he challenged the room.
When no one answered, Rand grabbed a bottle of oil standing nearby on the counter, and smashed it onto the stovetop as he re-entered the dining room. The ensuing fireball made everyone jump, and again when Lia stepped forward, still pointing the gun right at him.
“You shouldn’t have left us any exits at all,” she grimly shook her head. “No one is killing me again, and no one is touching my family.”
The first wolf that lunged for her, Lia turned and ruthlessly shot the young man in the chest. Two shots left. The wolf fell with a whimper. Between this and the roaring blaze growing in the kitchen, the room quickly turned to chaos as the wolves decided there was, in fact, no honor among thieves.
As most of the wolves scrambled to make a run for it, a few actually stayed behind to tend to the pack leader. Meanwhile, Jisung had already sprung forward to grab your clothes and help you off the table. Chan was finally able to move as well, helping Lia herd the girls towards the foyer ahead of you as the fire began to spread into the dining room. Thinking fast, Chan grabbed the shotgun Lia kept tucked behind the umbrella stand. Jisung took a second to help drape your jacket back over your shoulders, foregoing your sweater because there was no way you’d get that on again at the moment. He refused to meet your gaze, even amidst all the mayhem.
It was miserably cold as you stepped out onto the front step, but it was a relief after the growing heat of the fire in Lia’s home. Lucy and Joanne helped steady you on your feet as Jisung rushed out towards the garage. Chan was fast to get everyone over to his van, which he must have moved out of the garage at some point. He pushed the keys into Lia’s hands before she crawled into the driver’s seat. Next he reached in and pulled out a duffel bag.
“What’s the plan? Where are we going?” Ryujin hurriedly asked him.
“No, where you’regoing,” Chan corrected her as he helped Lucy into the van, “you may not be what he wants now, but we’ll be of no help to you if we know where you are. Don’t tell me where you’re going, just drive and don’t stop until you’re somewhere safe.”
Yuna leapt into the passenger seat and Chan quickly stood upright and got the girl’s attention. A low rumble could be heard behind you, even over the roaring fire growing inside the large estate as Jisung pulled up the car. Chan and Yuna shared an uneasy look as he pushed the shotgun into her hands. Jisung jumped out of the idling car and took over for Ryujin so she could climb into the van herself. He held you up, but he still didn’t look at you.
“I’m sorry, Yuna,” Chan said earnestly. Yuna only shook her head and pushed the gun back towards him.
“I still have her, even if she’s gone,” Yuna grimly assured him, “and we have Lia. Just do something next time.”
The van finally groaned to life as Lia started it and she looked back to see you and Jisung.
“Darling,” she called over to you, “get in. Come with us.”
“I have to see this through,” you stubbornly grinned, despite every ounce of energy you had left draining out of you for the time being. Yuna finally used her leverage to keep pushing the gun into Chan’s hands until she could shut the passenger door, just as Ryujin and Lucy pulled the backdoor closed. That clawing desire to change your mind, just run and jump into the van and run away with Lia was beginning to stir too close to reality for your liking. Thankfully, though, Lia stomped on the gas and sped off, out of the driveway. You watched her tail lights trail down the winding path back out to the street before her headlights turned left.
Lia was gone.
You barely had a moment to regret this move before Jisung already began hurrying you back towards the car, but not before he grabbed Chan’s bag and threw it into the front seat. Chan froze, processing this de facto agreement for a moment. You couldn’t blame him, but he ran over to help you into the backseat nonetheless.
A click of a seatbelt reminded you to do yours, and even just working the nylon strap hurt like hell. The pain had dulled from just a few minutes before, but it was difficult to tell if it was because you were slowly healing, or if you were just numb to it for now. Jisung peeled out, down the driveway and down the trail up from the house, headlights still off and turning right down the road instead. You jumped as a pair of headlights streamed in through the rear windshield and Chan twisted around under his seatbelt in the front seat to see before you could. Your eyes grew wide as you could just make out the silhouette of a pickup truck racing down the road after you. The inferno behind you that was once Lia’s home billowed smoke into the fog covering the night.
“Holy shit,” Chan breathed, hands clutching the back of the front seat as well as the dashboard, “Jay, we have to fucking move.”
Jisung didn’t respond, only the car growling as he upshifted and leaned on the gas in response. He didn’t turn to look at either one of you, only gunning down the road faster and faster, still with no headlights. The car was likely invisible in the night, a terrifying thought between faint streetlights as the fog threatened to grow thicker.
“Jay,” Chan cautioned, “you have to pick one. Fast or dark. We have to be careful.”
Jisung’s hands were clawed in a tight grip on the steering wheel. “Careful? That’s a good one, coming from you.”
“Hey,” Chan defended, “I know you’re mad but now isn’t the time–”
“Mad?!” Jisung scoffed with a shake of his head while the engine roared again.
You wanted to interfere, but it was already too late. Chan and Jisung were already slinging curses and venom at each other in the front seat, Chan trying to keep Jisung focusing on the road and Jisung more than furious at recent developments. What would you even say?
A light cut through the fog in front of you, interrupting all three of you as a train crossing sprang to life further down the road. The dull, yellow light turned red. A bell chimed.
And all three of you knew what was going to happen next.
“Jay,” you nervously pleaded, “slow down.”
The car rumbled out a determined growl as Jisung leaned harder on the gas before upshifting again. The lights of the train cut through the fog.
“We can lose them past the train,” Jisung assured you.
“If you do then would you please fucking slow down or turn on the fucking headlights?!” Chan barked, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of the seat even harder.
The train blasted its bellowing horn as it barreled down the tracks.
You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was to come… Until you felt the distinct bump of train tracks pass under the car.
Chan let out a strained sigh in the front seat, mirroring your own. You turned, relieved to see the long locomotive disappearing off into the woods. Past the train tracks, it would be almost an hour’s drive of countryside and farmland before the next major town.
Jisung finally snapped on the headlights.
“There,” he snapped, “happy?!”
“Yes,”Chan huffed, “now can you calm down and maybe we can talk about this later?”
“Talk?!” Jisung reeled.
“Guys,” you warily tried, far too late by now, “now really isn’t the time to–”
You shrieked out a gasp as you barely registered the deer that leapt out into the beam of the headlights.
“Jisung, look out!”
But it was too late for that, too.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
It was hard to tell how long you’d been out, if at all, but it hadn’t been long. The train was still passing behind you, its pace much slower as it tackled the winding track up ahead. All you knew was that when your eyes finally creaked open, your head was full of cotton, your chest felt like it’d just caught the weight of a fired cannonball – and the road was above you.
The highway lined the top of your vision, and you dazedly came to the realization that you were dangling upside down in the backseat of Jisung’s car, suspended only by your seatbelt. Your stomach lurched in a way that told you that you were leaning forward, not back, and this painted a clearer picture.
But then your senses were flooded with the smell of gasoline.
Your fingers frantically struggled with your seatbelt, the pain in your shoulder suddenly a moot point as you wrestled with the buckle before tumbling onto the roof of the car which was now underneath you. The car groaned as you twisted around, your hands searching wildly for your sweater and jacket while you tried to get enough leverage to kick out the back windshield. Whether it was from your injuries or the adrenaline overstimulating you, it took three attempts to get your boot through the glass. You flung your sweater onto the glass of the shattered windshield before you scrambled down onto your hands and knees to crawl out from under the wrecked car.
It was difficult to precisely assess the situation for a myriad of reasons once you steadied yourself back onto your feet. You shook out your sweater and forced it on over your bloodied and battered body, and followed that with your jacket, feeling as though you were only held together by your clothes now. Through the smoke, fog, and cover of night, you could just make out the mangled deer on the side of the highway. The nose of the flipped car was wedged into the right-hand guardrail at a brutal angle. From the cacophony ringing through your head, all you could gather was that Jisung must have swerved, overcorrected, and flipped the car before it slid to a screeching halt.
You shambled forward a couple steps alongside the guardrail when you spotted Chan in the car, gingerly trying to climb out of the passenger side window as he fought with his seatbelt. Unable to make it to the front of the car from here, you backtracked around to the other side to help Jisung.
Only to find that he wasn’t there.
When you ducked down to try and figure out how to free him, Jisung was nowhere to be seen in the driver’s seat. Instead, there was just a crushed, empty frame where the windshield once stood.
You bolted upright now, searching like mad to hopefully see Jisung already having gotten loose and out of the car but finding no such thing. The air in your lungs felt like knives raking through your chest but you forced yourself to take as deep a breath as you could, trying anything but whining out a pathetic curse when you realized the deer you were smelling was the dead buck on the side of the highway. You looked in every possible direction for any sign of him, before the one working headlight illuminated something maybe thirty feet further down the guardrail.
A heap.
A body.
Another dead animal.
No.
Jisung.
A feeble whimper stayed locked in your throat as you stumbled along the guardrail, precariously lining the top of a wooded bank looking out over some farmland, wanting to stop while simultaneously wanting to run every second along the way as you neared.
It wasn’t Jisung.
He was back in the car.
You just didn’t see him.
But you didn’t believe yourself, as much as you wanted to before you finally followed that goddamn beam like a cursed spotlight right to the end.
This was Jisung, a brutalized mess of himself lying in a heap on the side of the highway.
A stranger in a cafe.
A lover in your bed.
Blood on your hands.
You did this.
Your legs went boneless as you fell beside Jisung o
warnings: self indulgent post for me, use of baby boy, good boy and prince, idk i missed smth
felix’s hand drags down your body, tracing the naked skin that his lips had just marked. his lips were now attached to your thighs, sucking and kissing them to draw out your moans. your hands gripped the sheets, biting your tongue to keep the naughty thoughts to yourself.
“prince…” felix cooed one of his favorite pet names for you, kissing your thighs as he touched your soaked underwear. “did all of my teasing get my baby all excited?”
you nod your head in agreement, watching his fingers draw circles into the wet patch. felix decided he wanted to make you scream tonight, using another nickname that he knew would catch your attention and make you listen. “words, baby boy.”
your eyes shot to directly look at his, and without hesitation you spoke. “yes, daddy, it did.”
“ah, that’s better.” he smiles, his voice lowering a bit more if that was even possible. his hands trailed up to the hem of your underwear, tracing it gently. “daddy wants to play now, is that okay?”
with a nod and a quiet ‘yes’, he pulled off your underwear, lifting your legs up just enough for him to be able to lick and kiss your soaked hole. leaning down, he began to lick at the slit, using his eyes to see how you reacted to each lick. your hands grip on the sheets tightened, and your moans grew louder each lick, which became faster as your moans grew.
“such a good boy… i can’t wait to hear you scream my name next.”
↳ Jisung’s your best friend, but he’s been feeling a little irritable lately. In an effort to lift his mood, you plan an evening of fun. But it turns out to be quite different…
↳Female reader x Han
↳4.5k
!Strong language, friends to lovers au, roommates au, angst and sexual tension, references to pornography, submissive Jisung, dominant reader, explicit sexual content, unintentional voyeurism, oral sex (f. and m. rec), fingering (f. rec), squirting, spanking, hair pulling, praise and instruction, adult themes throughout !
Wandering absently around the supermarket, you pursed your lips as you browsed the ice cream stored behind the frosty freezer door.
You smiled in satisfaction as you found the one you were looking for. Cookie dough flavour had always been his favourite, and you only hoped the small treat would help to pull him out of the funk he’d been in lately.
Living with your best friend was nothing short of amazing, and you loved it 99% of the time.
The other 1% of your experience with him was less than pleasant, but that was only when he got those days where he was snappy and frustrated. You were never sure why he got so irritable, and he’d never tell you. So you made it a point to avoid him, give him his space, and just be there if he needed you.
And today was one of those days.
He’d been utterly short with you this morning before you left for work, practically ushering you out of the door before you’d even had a chance to put your shoes on. You couldn’t help but feel like he was actively tryingto get rid of you, which was so unlike him. You normally couldn’t move for Jisung whining your name or sneaking into your room to spend some time with you, whether that was to watch a movie or simply cuddle. It was all completely platonic, of course. You’d never risk embarrassing him on the few occasions that he had gotten a little… overexcited by the contact. He’d just make his stammered excuses, leaving your room with flushed cheeks and an impossibly apparent erection.
Warning: some hints of angst at the beginning, smut, fingering, oral ( m. and f.receiving), unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), creampie, salirophilia, dacryphilia, corruption kink, double penetration in two holes, dirty talking, degradation, hints of humiliation, use of pet names (such as pretty girl, kitten, baby, babygirl, Prince, etc.), fivesome- M/M/F/M/M, ninesome, threesomes and foursome mentioned, mentions of cuckholding, dom!skz members, switch!skz and reader, sub!reader, bratty reader
Synopsis: It seems year after year on your birthday seems to getting a little more interesting, especially when your boyfriend’s friends want to be involved.
A/N: I’ve decided to turn my yearly birthday gift to myself into a series. Please enjoy when I update this series every year on my birthday :)
pairing: librarian!changbin x afab reader x frat boy!jisung
requested: no
genre: fluff, smut, just a tinge of angst (minorsdni)
warnings: fingering (f receiving), semi-public sex, lowkey exhibitionism, cum eating, unprotected sex (be safe) and use of the pull out method (do not do this)
wordcount: 6.8k
a/n: my own contribution to my own collab! a big thank you to all of the other fabulous writers who participated, pls go read their fics! this is quite self indulgent as it is my dream to get railed in a library, but thank you to @seo–changbin for giving me inspo on librarian changbin and @ddeungies for helping me figure out the smut scene also lowkey contributing to the glorification of frat boys with jisung in this fic, so just a reminder to make sure you and your partner get tested before any kind of sexual interaction (be safe y'all). enjoyyy (also yes the title is from rpdr)
photos not mine, credits to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)
Warning: smut, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), rough sex, hair pulling, slight voyeurism, fingering (f. receiving), edging, impact play, use of a camera for sexual purposes, slight anal play, gunplay (penetration with gun), bondage, possessiveness, degradation, slight power play, mentions of blood, slightly orgasm control, themes of roleplaying, dom!Jisung
Synopsis: Having a job as hard as Jisung’s comes with stress, stress that you’re happy to relieve for him. Even if his possessive nature kicks in.
A/N: Another purely self indulgent fic. Thank all video games that have hot characters that have guns because this is where it stemmed from. Also I did not proof read so don’t come for me. Otherwise enjoy the fic :)
Just a reminder the actions performed in this fic is not a reflection of Stray Kids or their character.
↳Part 1/9 ofUnmatched, 2022 rewrite. Set several months after the events of Unrequited, you are now married and settled with the man you thought you’d never have. Yet when old secrets and bad habits resurface, things are not as entirely harmonious as they seem.
↳Female reader x Lee Know, female reader x Hyunjin
↳6.4k
!Strong language, established relationship, marriage au, love triangle au, thriller, romance, stripper-slash-escort Lee Know, husband Lee Know, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, dominant Lee Know, oral sex (f. rec), storeroom sex, dirty talk, references to sex toys and aids, themes of casual sex, promiscuity, commitment issues and adult themes throughout !
A vow so sealed with a kiss had bound you to the man you loved for eternity, though it’s no stretch to suppose he claimed your soul long before the eyes of church and state ever deigned to recognise it.
Marriage was blissful. Marriage was harmonious. Marriage would change you both, they’d said, make you a better person through the responsibilities it comes with, the duties of a wife to her husband, of a husband to his wife.
Those people didn’t know you. They didn’t know Minho either.
For if they did, they’d have saved such pearls of wisdom for the next couple coming through.
You don’t think marriage has changed you. By all accounts, you’re the same old person you always were.
Your lips purse to the same pout they always do. Your hair is the same colour it always was. Even your general outlook on life remains naïvely optimistic, irrespective of the inevitable bad days you occasionally suffer through.
Rolling your car to a gradual stop and firmly switching the ignition, you reangle the rear-view mirror, taking a second to assess presentability before you get out. It’s by tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that you’re momentarily blinded by a sharp glint; the silver wedding band on your ring finger, set with a single diamond that catches the dusky afternoon sunlight.
You admire it—the diamond demands that you must—spreading your fingers out, holding your hand under a dusted ray that beams through your car window. It sparkles, quietly reminding you that despite all the sameness, your life is vastly different now.
You suppose that if someone had informed you six months ago that you’d be married and relatively settled down by now, you’d have advised them in favour of industrial strength therapy and maybe a lobotomy or three.
Yet here you are; more than half a year into a marriage you never foresaw, with a man you can’t well live without.
Perhaps more miraculously than any of that, however, is the fact that anything has yet to go wrong.
concept: car sex with chan like imagine it; a car park overlooking the view of the city lights, you’re wearing his most favourite hoodie with music carefully curated by chan himself ringing in your ears and moonlight cascading through the windows while his hands grip your hips so gently. you’re both impossibly close to each other yet somehow not close enough. he’s gracefully guiding you up and down his cock, instructing you how to ride him just beautifully. “just like that, babygirl,” he’d whisper small tokens of affirmation to encourage you, hands squeezing your ass as you bounce — making sure you know exactly how good you’re making him feel, “you take my cock so fuckin’ well.” and when your thighs begin to ache from the strain, you simply sit neatly on his lap — cockwarming him while your lips crash together and his hands stroke your thighs to ease the pain because your comfort is of the utmost importance to him.
Minho smirks triumphantly in the bathroom mirror, eyes admiring his newly decorated body.
Spots of blue and purple are painted all over; a remnant trail of where your mouth had decided to mark him, claim him. He can still make out the feeling of your soft lips kissing him up and down, sucking pretty blemishes onto his pale skin, even sinking your teeth into him when the pleasure became too overwhelming.
But the best part are the countless red scratches that litter his back and shoulders. He had you sobbing in ecstasy, clawing down his back, your cunt tightening relentlessly around his large cock being repeatedly driven deep in you.
Minho was in heaven when your nails dug into him uncontrollably, raking his skin as he fucked you hard into the mattress. You were clinging to him as if your life depended on it. Every harsh thrust forced you closer and closer to the edge; and the aid of a single, light stroke to your clit was all it took to send you flying apart at the seams, body shaking in white hot pleasure. You were in utter euphoria, eyes rolled back, his name on your lips.
He almost can’t wait for the beautiful marks to fade… just so he can get you to make new ones on him all over again.
You couldn’t stop staring at them. No matter how hard you tried to avert your attention, you were just too mesmerized by the way his lips moved as he sung softly to himself. You felt your cheeks heat at the embarrassment of being caught staring at him but you couldn’t find yourself caring.
His lips were just so damnperfect.
Without thinking, you leaned forward, capturing them in a kiss that pulled Chan’s attention from his laptop, quickly sliding the headphones off of his head.
“W-What was that for,” he sputtered as when you pulled back, blushing furiously at the sudden affection.
You didn’t say anything as you leaned back in. You pressed soft kisses so his cupids bow, giggling softly as he pulled you closer to him. You continued to trail your lips across his as he happily welcomed your little kisses. When you pulled back to look at him you you couldn’t help but to let out a sigh at how pretty he was, bare faced, cheeks a light shade of pink and those beautiful lips even more plush than before from your consistent attack on his lips.
You gently ran your thumb against the skin of his cheek, taking in every inch of his beauty.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against his nose.
Chan knew better than to argue with you, instead opting to pull you closer to him as he uttered those three words you never got tired of hearing against your lips. Let’s just say that the two of you didn’t do anything productive the rest of the night, favoring instead to stay in each others embrace as got lost in the feeling of one another’s lips.
You don’t remember how you ended up here but you weren’t going to complain. The breeze caressed your bare legs, eyes falling closed as you listened to the rustling of the leaves and the distant chirps of the birds that had occupied the small park in search for food.
The tears had stopped awhile ago, however the sharp sting of them was still ever so present. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them close to you in search of some form of comfort as your wrapped your arms around your shoulders.
The events from today hadn’t stopped plaguing your mind. You were hurt, lost and confused to say the least. Hyunjin’s actions in the pool had contrasted with the concerned look your were met with before running away.
Maybe you had looked into it a little too much.
Your insecurities always did seem to get the better of you. But right now, all you could picture was the way his smile had dropped when he looked at you. You shook your head, willing the tears away as you didn’t want to cry anymore, head still thumping from your previous outburst.
“Y/n!”
The sudden shout of your name had you startling out of your thoughts, eyes widening as you turned to the source.
Hyunjin practically collapsed next to you on the bench, heaving as he hunched over to catch his breath. You stared wide eyed at his form, confused as to why he was even looking for you in the first place.
“Do—Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been,” he forced out in-between breaths.
You just looked at him. The words had caught in your throat, unknowing of what to say to him. You watched as he closed his eyes, taking a deep final breath before turning to you.
“You were looking for me?”
He looked taken back as he scooted his body towards you, “Of course I was looking for you! You’ve had me worried sick. Why wouldn’t I look for you?”
“You seemed like you didn’t want me around before—” you trailed off, cursing as you felt the tears cloud your vision once more.
“Why would you think that? Of course I wanted you around. I always want you to be with me.”
“Hyun you couldn’t even l-look at me.”
His eyes widened as your voice broke, watching silently as the tears began to fall from your eyes.
“I-I know I embarrassed you and I’m sorry—.”
“Embarrassed? What—Y/n you’ve never embarrassed me.”
“Please don’t lie to me.”
Hyunjin looked just as heartbroken as he met your gaze, his own eyes filling with tears as he released a shaky breath.
“I know I-I’m not attractive but Hyunjin the minute I got in the pool—I don’t know I just felt like your were disgusted seeing me like that.”
His eyes widened as he watched you wipe your tears before trying to move yourself away from him. However, he caught your arm before you could.
“God no that’s not it at all! I’m sorry I just— this is going to be embarrassing for me to admit,” he blinked the tears out of his eyes before turning his gaze back towards you.
“I’m sorry that I made you feel less about yourself. That was never my intention and I want you to know that I’ve never been, nor will I ever be embarrassed of you.”
You noticed that he hesitated, eyes flickering around the two of you before turning his attention back on you.
“This is going to sound like such a perve thing to say but Y/n you have no idea the power you hold over me with your clothes on and seeing you in that swimsuit it took everything in me not to take you right then and there in front of everyone.”
Your eyes widened at the sudden confession.
“W-What,” you sputtered, earning a small groan from Hyunjin.
“I know and I’m sorry but you have no idea how good you looked and it took everything in me not to touch you. That’s why I couldn’t look at you because I knew if I did I would embarrass myself,” he whined as his face fell into his hands.
You let out a soft laugh at his muffled ‘but admitting that is embarrassing too idiot,’ before reaching up to run your fingers gently through his hair.
Hyunjin dropped his hands from his face at your touch, gently grasping your wrist as he pulled you closer to him, smiling at you before leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry I was such an ass. I never wanted to hurt you or make you feel insecure. God you have no idea what you do to me angel. I love every part of you.”
You hummed, eyes fluttering open as you pulled back to fix him with a playful glare.
“But you haven’t seen all of me yet though,” you teased.
Hyunjin smirked, biting his lip as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, “We can fix that.”
Summary:Estela has learned a lot about people. How to charm them to get whenever she wants, how to sweet talk her way out of anything. How to be nice here and rude there. The most important thing she has learned is how to kill a man. There are a million ways to do so and she knows the most important one, break his heart.
WC: 14.3k
Warnings: mdni. violence. Drugs, alcohol, cursing. Talks of different torture methods. Blood mentions. Mafia content that comes with the territory. Minho is an alleged murderer but who isn’t in this story honestly, acab is heavy in this fic, side ships, aged up character(s),
Smut Warnings: pt 1 includes: kink negotiations, bdsm themes, cunnilingus, pet names (baby girl, dollface), slapping, sexual bruises, etc
A/N:this was originally written as apart of the april clownracha mafia prompt, since then it has flourished to be way too big for its britches
I learned at a young age that there were multiple ways to kill a person. There was the traditional violence, something that could mutilate their bodies and make sure they would never breathe again.
There was another way, a way to make a person wish they would never take another breath for as long as they lived. A way to make someone cry with every too big gasp or wish they could start all over fresh and anew, kill their own beings just so they wouldn’t feel the pain you caused them. Killing someone was easy and I knew hundreds of ways to do it, constantly calculating each way when I walked into a room.
Torturing a person was harder, lasted longer, and felt sweeter.
Lia’s kiss was sweeter than most of what she gave to me. Sweet and almost pure, a bright and bloody lip stain smearing my cheek. I groaned at her, wiping the lipstick print off my face.
“What? Suddenly dislike my kiss, sweetheart?” Lia smiled one of those looks that made her seem docile, cute even. Something that made her seem like a peach. Her lip was still bleeding as I tossed her the warm and wet rag. She snatched it up before pressing it to her cheek, that sick smile still on her face.
If she was a peach, she’d be rotten.
“One day, you have to get back out there with us,” she plopped down onto the couch, her eyes clouded and dreamy as she reminisced, “It’s not fun running the city when my favorite girl isn’t there.”
I just looked at her before sighing, turning towards our bedroom door, “Don’t stain our couch.”
“Help me shower? Clean my wounds for me like you used to?”
“Bother the medic, Julia.”
“Julia!” Lia scoffed, her voice breaking off into a yell as she rushed off the couch, stopping me before I could get too far, “Don’t tell me you’re angry with me again.”
Lia never really liked when I called her by her full name or anyone doing so for that matter. Putting her out at times felt like telling a spoiled princess she couldn’t go to the ball. It was dramatic, overdone, and painful for everyone involved. Lia glowered at me as she pouted, her cute bottom lip poking out.
“Come on, Estela, don’t be like that,” she looked up at me sweetly, tugging on my shirt trying to bring me closer. Once upon a time, I think she thought she and this pout of hers had some control over me. It didn’t then, and it surely doesn’t now. I yanked back and if she could pout more, she would have.
“Don’t annoy me, Julia.”
“Seems like everything I do annoys you!”
“Not just you.”
“Excuse me, Boss,” a weak knock sounded on my bedroom door the next morning. Lia must have left the door unlocked after I kicked her out, no doubt angry I wouldn’t let her into my bedroom for the third time that month.
I slowly blinked awake, trying to remember what day it was. What month even? Friday? No, it’s Monday. Yesterday, I attended that church service at our funeral house. Month? April? Possibly with how it’s raining outside. Since when do I own popcorn ceilings? I have to get that fixed immediately. I’ll let Yeji know to get it fixed. It was such an eyesore.
A quick look to my left told me I fell asleep drinking the whiskey I poured for myself. The condensation left a pool of water on the dark wood. Sitting up, I grabbed the glass, chugging the last of it down.
Breakfast of champions.
The knock happened again.
I stood up slowly, taking the time to stretch out each limb before walking over to the window and opening the curtain, letting the sunlight stream through.
My room was lit up nicely this way. Even though the only things in this place was a bed, a nightstand, a laptop, and a lockbox of all my weapons. Sighing, I let my hair fall free from my scarf and walked over to the door.
His hand was poised to knock again when I answered the door, rings glinting off his fingers as the sun hit them. He gasped softly before quickly putting his hand down and bowing to me.
“Good morning, Boss,” his pretty dark hair fell into his face. Today, he was wearing one of those all black face masks I see the others in at times, however since he was with me, it was pulled down to show off his smile. He smiled brightly, “You look amazing, Boss.”
I grunted in response, “What does Hongjoong want this early, San?”
“Hongjoong is requesting you meet him soon,” Choi San notified me as if it was obvious. It probably was, “He said you guys were supposed to have breakfast today.”
“What time is it?”
“2 pm, Boss.”
I rolled my eyes. Another day gone. Seriously, what was I even doing?
“Alright, tell Yeji to pull my car around. Tell Hongjoong I’ll be at his place shortly,” I ordered San around easily and he nodded, pulling out his phone. Choi San was more than used to servitude under me.
“Should I also get Wooyoung to bring you something to eat?”
“Unnecessary.”
“Dr. Song said-”
“I don’t care what Mingi said, San.”
“I do!” San chirped up before shrinking back down as he realized he was talking back to me. I raised an eyebrow at this sudden admission. San bowed quickly, keeping his head down as he spoke. He started to wring his hands out, the metal of his rings being constantly twisted, “Apologies for talking out of place, Boss, but you seriously need to eat better. Dr. Song instructed me to keep track of your eating habits and I have been!”
“You can keep track of my eating habits but you couldn’t even peddle on your corner without getting distracted?”
San at least had the common sense to look ashamed of his shortcomings before he spoke again, “You haven’t ate anything substantial in a couple days. I’m ordering you food, Boss. You also smell of whiskey so shower before I take you to Hongjoong.”
“Who in the absolute hell do you-”
“Do you want me to say it or do you want Hongjoong to say it?”
San made a point which was more than aggravating, “Fine. While I shower, make sure Yeji is prepared to take me anywhere I wish to eat. I don’t feel like eating in Hongjoong’s presence.”
“Yes, ma’am. What shall I have Yeji get for you?”
“I want to stop at Felix’s bakery. If I must eat, at least let Felix make it for me.”
San nodded, typing out a quick text before putting his phone away, “We worry about you, Boss.”
“Shut up, San.”
San simply nodded before leaving my condo. I sighed as the energy left my body. Maybe I should have listened to my father all those years ago and started taking my medicine more regularly. Social situations were getting more draining. I snatched the bottle off my nightstand and took two of the anti-depressants dry. Mingi was right in saying it was hard to get used to these pills.
Maybe I should go back to therapy.
I remember being younger and how my father rarely talked about his parents. Said it wasn’t necessary, terrible for his mental just to even think of them in a small capacity. Just as well, I never met them while he was alive. He didn’t want me to. He would tell me about how old school they were, how their favorite methods of torture was waterboarding. The act of slowly drowning your victim. A painful, mentally agonizing form of torture that left no marks. It was repugnant. It was the best way to torture a person to get something out of them. The best way to extort.
Sometimes, I could shower without screaming. As long as my back was turned from the stream of water, I was fine. If my face was caught in it, I could still feel the burn of the water filling my throat. The tears blinking away. The constant throwing up of water for hours upon hours after. There were no permanent physical scars to it.
“Where is your mother, Estela?”
“I don’t know,” I didn’t know if my face was covered in tears or the freezing cold water that was being poured down my cellophane wrapped mouth. This was agonizing and it felt like it was going on forever. My body shuddered when he touched me, his face reeking of his favorite scotch brand and Colombian cigars.
“Protecting that slut won’t save you.”
“Please. Leave me alone, Dad, please.”
He would just chuckle, “Look at you, protecting that little slut as she runs off with mymoney! My hard-earned money! Clothes I bought her! Car in my name! Blackmailing me with my secrets! Who is here protecting you, Estela? Not your dear, sweet mommy.”
“Sir, we shouldn’t be-”
“Shut up, boy!” My father regarded Hongjoong angrily as the young boy gingerly held the bucket of water. Hongjoong didn’t move an inch as my father turned his rage onto him, simply just blinking. He was a fresh runner at that time. He wasn’t the second in command that he was now. He wasn’t my best friend yet. Just a newbie looking for a place to belong and forced to watch me get tortured for my mother’s infidelities.
In a way, I felt sorry for Kim Hongjoong. He was kicked out at a young age, working multiple jobs to try to take care of himself. Then he made the mistake of stumbling across my aforementioned mother. She would poke his cheeks, call him cute, and say that the grime covered boy could come into our mansion. Our estate. Work for us, free housing, free food. All he had to do was keep careful watch for her. Keep her dirty secrets.
He did so marvelously. So well that no one knew her secrets, no one even knew that Hongjoong knew them. Not my dear father, at least. Instead, he assumed I would know. Assumed I would know why she ran away to another country. Why she took so much of his money and prized possessions. Why she took my father’s secrets to another mafia.
I didn’t know but it was my cross to bear.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Back from the dead?” Bang Chan smirked as Lee Minho stepped into the room. Minho smiled at the older man. It was hard not to when Chan’s smile was just so contagious.
“Thanatos himself will have to drag me down before I let those two-bit gangsters kill me,” Minho laughed as he sank down into the chair that Seonghwa pulled out for him. He settled into it before he was pushed back up into the table. Park Seonghwa patted his shoulder as he gestured to the meal in front of him.
Lee Minho would describe his lifestyle as humble. The house he lived in was a quaint five bedroom, two story house. A two car garage with an apartment over it where Seonghwa slept when he wasn’t being paid to stay by Minho’s side every second. A basement that was practically an armada. A glorious master suite that was designed and custom made to fit all of Minho’s needs. A newly renovated kitchen. An outdoor pool with an attached jacuzzi. Four bedrooms he filled with whatever whims he craved.
Yes, his suit was made out of the finest fabrics and each one custom made to fit him. And maybe the jewelry he wore was also cut of only the richest carats and handcrafted by the most careful of hands to be made just for him. Well, maybe Lee Minho only knew the finer things in life, only knew proper indulgence, but he was humble.
Even when his personal chef made a dish he disliked, he was humble. Even when that same chef messed up one of his favorite meals, he kept his screaming and disgust to a minimum.
It was even easier to remain humble when that same chef tried to poison the mafia leader. Chan easily stepped in to take care of him, but Lee Minho was as benevolent as a deity. He understood and nodded as the chef pleaded, begged for mercy. Minho understood, how could he not. When someone is extorting your family, practically forcing you to do something so vile to someone else, at the risk of your own life? How could you not want to poison Lee Minho in order to save your family from the other bad guys?
Minho understood, and since he was humble, so humble actually that he was not afraid to twirl the knife in his hands, one, two, three times before it hit his target.
He could hear Seonghwa groan at the mess he made, the one he would have to clean up. His eyes were on Chan as the older man smiled at the chef as he laid on the kitchen floor.
Minho was trained to taste poison at a young age, microdosing on it like it was his daily vitamins. Minho knew all the weak points of everyone who stepped into this eyesight, accessing them so that if the time ever came, he could easily dismantle anyone and everyone who threatened him. He was rich, he considered himself kind, poised, trained, an absolute beast.
Most of all, he was humble. A heart on his sleeve kind of guy. Just your average run of the mill type.
“You just got back and you’re already ruining the fresh wax seal,” Seonghwa said with a deep sigh as he went to call the clean-up crew. Bang Chan was still smiling at the body as Minho handed him the dagger.
Chan delicately cleaned the blade for him with his handkerchief before handing it back to him. Minho placed the knife back in its holder, the putrid scent of iron filling his nose, even with it being clean of blood. Chan giggled before giving a slight nudging kick to the limp body that was pouring out blood on their feet, “He made good bibimbap.”
“No, he didn’t,” Minho sighed heavily as he turned and walked out the kitchen. His meal was ruined and he didn’t feel like cooking.
“Do we think it was a hit put out by Onyx Star Syndicate?”
Minho regarded Chan for a second, thinking about the question, “Doesn’t exactly seem like their dear leaders style. He’s more upfront.”
“We don’t know much about Kim Hongjoong. He could be capable of anything.”
“No one does,” the leader of Red Thunder shook his head, already feeling his mind start to process just who exactly is dumb enough to order someone to poison Lee Minho. Who dared to think he was stupid enough to fall for such a dumb, obvious trick?
“Shall I order you take-out?” Chan said, taking note of his mood. If Minho was humble, Chan was considerate. They worked well together.
“How about we go out for a meal? I feel like I don’t interact with this city enough. Not yet, at least.”
“That may be a little hard, Minho,” Chan said, never using honorifics when it came to Minho. They have known each other too long for that, “The Onyx’s seem to own everything around here.”
“I’m sure a meal at one of their smaller restaurants will cause them no problems,” Minho shrugged on his leather jacket, switching out of the Armani sportscoat he had on earlier, “Besides, it’s not like people truly know our faces. They use our establishments often. As long as we’re cordial, it should be no problem. We’re giving them our money anyway”
“Understood. Where would you like to go?”
“Is there a bakery near here? I am craving a really good brownie to finish off my meal.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Hongjoong expects us at his home in forty minutes, Estela,” Yeji held up her phone as she typed something out, barely looking up at me as she spoke. If it was anyone else, I would be offended, “I told him he should just meet us here but he said it’s business.”
“Friends for more than five years and he thinks he can boss his own boss around,” I sighed and shook my head. As if I could hold anything but love for that spitfire man, “I give him my legacy, and he hands me orders.”
Yeji just shook her head. She’s known me for way longer and is not afraid to shove that fact in my face, “He’s an idiot.”
We got into line at the bakery, looking up at the chalkboard menu. Felix’s gentle yet caring touch lingered throughout the place. Soft music echoed through the speakers and it only felt relaxing inside even with all the talking going on. It was a nicely decorated place. The walls were a soft, pale yellow and all the furnishings were a soft sage green. Pictures of different idols and scenic views decorated the walls. Some stuffed animals on tables and fresh flowers everywhere.
“Do you want your usual?”
“I think I want to try something new, Yeji.”
Yeji just hummed before looking back down at her phone. She trusted me too well to be aware of our surroundings. I wouldn’t take it away from her though.
Hwang Yeji was brutal in her job as my bodyguard.
“Yeji!” A voice chirped as we reached the front counter before a long haired brunette popped up in front of us. His hair pulled back into a beanie but it left his pretty face on display. The perfect cupid’s bow and the skin dotted in freckles. His apron was covered in whatever he baked today as he popped up to take care of our order.
No one here knew who I was. Hell, no one outside of Hongjoong, Yeji, Lia, Wooyoung, and San knew the truth. Our other mafia members didn’t. Not even the smaller heads like Changbin and Jeongin. To them, Hongjoong was the head of the crew, I was just his best friend, the pretty girl on his shoulder that they kept safe from time to time. The girl Lia took home some days and Hongjoong the others. Hell, Estela only appeared randomly and she worked at a flower shop that supplied flowers for funerals and massive events funded by the gang. She was so sweet and innocent when she put the act on, she couldn’t be completely corrupted by the evil mafia. Estela couldn’t be the head of the Onyx Star Syndicate that ruled over half of their country. She couldn’t have been raised to be just the cold-hearted, ruthless leader that Hongjoong pretended to be.
There was no way.
“Hi, Felix,” Yeji said, turning on the charm. To anyone else, it looked like we were just two girls going to hang out before doing whatever young girls did these days. They didn’t know we had at least 7 weapons on us a piece and were shaking, readying our bodies for anything. Constantly in motion, “What’s good today?”
“Besides that pretty smile on your face?” Felix flirted with a giggle and I rolled my eyes, “I’ve been experimenting with a stuffed spinach and cheese croissant? That and some peach white tea? Sounds amazing right. Estela, should I get started on your usual? Caprese on ciabatta and a gooey brownie?”
“I want the croissant you mentioned. And a gooey brownie.”
Felix tried not to act surprised. It didn’t work, “Two years of getting the same thing every time you come in and now you want to change it up?”
“I still want a basic Americano.”
“Of course you do,” Felix giggled, the sound as smooth as air, ringing up our order after Yeji rattled off what she wanted. The smile he gave us could make flowers bloom.
“Looks like you got some new help,” I said as I slid over some cash. I looked at the two people who were busying themselves cleaning the counter and the other making drinks.
“Yeah, I can finally afford to have some help these days,” Felix smiled again but this time the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t know I knew his business almost tanked and why it was flourishing now. He didn’t know I made sure Hongjoong gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
After all, I couldn’t live without Felix’s brownies.
I looked at them again. I remember Joong telling me Felix ended up hiring some boys who worked for the rivals, Red Thunder. He wanted to tell Felix to fire them but I stopped him. This is a good way to get information on their leader. The faceless boss of Red Thunder was almost as elusive as me.
Almost.
Red Thunder was a relatively new criminal organization to our area. Supposedly they were big in a couple cities over. Specialist in weapons and smuggling, the mafia was originally from a port city. They were great in what they did there. Providing efficiently and quickly to all who needed their product. Then they stuck their hands into the underground gambling ring and struck gold in more ways then one, allowing them the money to take over the city’s politics. Put their funds in the hands of corrupt politicians who didn’t care for nothing if not power. Their city was in their red hands, caught in the web like no other. The story goes that their current boss let his middle son leave, start his own league since he wasn’t taking over the mafia there, and the son decided that he wanted to come here, beat out one of the biggest mafias in the country.
Good luck to him, because I will be damned before I let somone ruin what I have built.
“Yeosang. Hyunjin, Come say hi,” Felix said and the two came over. They were both beautiful men, which may contribute to why Felix hired them. Things sell when someone with such killing looks is selling them to you.
They both nodded in a greeting.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” Hyunjin smiled and it was subtle but I noticed the nervous flicker in Yeji’s eyes. Yeji didn’t know much about her family after they gave her up to my mother. But she knew her last name.
It didn’t happen much these days, and it didn’t happen often, but there were some families, the richer ones in our mafia that held mistresses and concubines. That was normal. Them getting pregnant with a child by their benefactors? Normal. Them giving up the child for foster care is normal. What wasn’t normal was the selling. Getting rid of the kid by any means necessary. What wasn’t normal was my mother buying the kid for twice the amount and raising them alongside me as if they were my younger sister.
Sometimes abnormal was good.
“I assume you are Yeosang,” I said as Yeji tried to keep her cool. I could already see the wheels turning in her head and the itch to make sure she knew everything about this man as soon as she could.
“Yes, nice to meet you. Felix always tells us about how much he likes all his regulars.”
“Just one more,” Felix said as a blush took over his face.
“Just one more,” This Hyunjin teased, mocking Felix’s deeper voice, “Sorry, Felix, but anytime he walks in, you sputter and run to the back room.”
“Oh?”
“Shut up, Hyunjin.”
“It’s true. He says hi to you in that Australian accent of his and you turn to mush,” Yeosang commented and Felix looked as if he wanted to catapult into the sun.
“Please shut up.”
“Is that so?” A voice, an Australian voice, sounded off behind us and Felix yelped, turning bright red before running to the back room.
Yeji and I turned around to see the owner of the voice.
The man had dyed silver hair, slicked back with a couple of curls decorating his forehead. A strong scar stretched across his forehead to an eyebrow ring and another one decorated his high cheekbones. His full lips were stretched into a wide smile, showing off dimples and a sparkling diamond septum piercing. His arms looked heavily tatted, inked skin peeking out from the sleeves on his sweatshirt. Even though the sweatshirt, I could tell just how buff he was, how toned he must be.
“Hi, I’m Chris,” yeah, that man was Australian. This had to be Felix’s guy. I’m not one to play matchmaker but who knew twink Felix wanted a man who looked like he could dominate the ever-living fuck out of him. Kinky.
“Aussie guy!” Hyunjin yelled before Yeosang came and grabbed him to help prepare for food.
“I’ll order for us,” the Australian said to the man beside him who nodded.
“Wow, he’s hot,” Yeji breathed out and I had to agree as Chris left. I turned to take in his companion.
He had an all-black face mask on so we couldn’t completely determine all of what he looked like. Just from the eyes alone, you felt caught in a web as his gaze landed. The light hit the man’s eyes in such a way that they seemed to be dazzling. His dark hair was floppy as it rested on his forehead, looking soft and well taken care of. A sliver of forehead could be seen around the gentle curls that framed his face. His ears were covered in a delicate mix of earrings. The man wore dark black slacks that were obviously designer and a nice silk shirt with a leather jacket. One look at his shoes and I knew they were the same Ferragamo dress shoes that San always cried about wanting. His jewelry looked custom. Hell, the man looked as if he walked out of a GQ magazine, that body of lean tone muscle poised as if both modeling and ready to attack. The thing that kept my attention on him was the ring on his finger.
A silver ring, so shiny it gleamed in the sun. Rubies were embedded into the thick band with a large, roughly cut gemstone, almost like cloudy quartz, maybe something more than that.
“It’s impolite to stare,” his voice was gentle and deep. His eyes were settled on me as if expecting me to back down with how intense his glare was. I suppose a normal girl would.
I guess I should act like one, “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!”
Yeji scoffed as the man just shook his head and walked past us to find a table. Yeji pulled me to do the same, but something made me keep an eye on that man.
“Why are you staring that man down?” Yeji whispered to me in French.
I guess those years we spent in France when we were younger were more than beneficial, “His ring. Look up the gemstone.”
“Say please?”
“Do it and I won’t tell Jisung about your major crush on him.”
“I can’t believe people say there’s no better person in this world than a sister,” Yeji groaned in disgust as she did what I asked, “21 damn years on this planet with you and you’re still a pain in the ass.”
“You’re welcome.”
By the time our food came and I took my first sip of coffee, Yeji found it.
“Fulgurite? A quartz type created from lightning,” Yeji showed me her phone before eating her own meal. I went ahead and read the article.
Interesting. Who gets jewelry made so nicely over fulgurite?
“That man has a lightning bolt tattooed,” Yeji said, looking at Chris from where we sat. They were across the store but I never sat with my back facing the door so I couldn’t see them. Yeji had my back as she watched them.
“He took off his hoodie. Right on the bicep. A bright red lightning bolt. Can’t miss the detail of it though.”
All of my nerves felt alive instantly. Red lightning bolt, the symbol for Red Thunder Mafia’s heads. The ones that were close to the top. Not many people knew that fact besides other mafia leaders. We all got tatted at a young age with our symbols. The only way I got away without one was I didn’t want my father to be the one to tattoo me. Didn’t want to give him my pain, as was tradition.
Besides, I don’t need a black star tattooed. I am a black woman named Star. I am the symbol.
“Interesting, coming onto our property,” I whispered in French. The gears in my head were already working. If Chris was a part of Red Thunder, then that man with him had to be…
“Estela,” Yeji’s voice held a slight warning I chose to ignore, “We have 30 minutes before Hongjoong. Please don’t do anything to ruin the schedule. We can deal with this another time.”
“That’s your only concern?”
“You and I both know you can handle yourself.”
I giggled as I slid out of the booth and walked back up to the front counter. Felix was still hiding in the backroom, occasionally peeking his head through the back door window, his yellow beanie and eyes being the only thing seen as he watched Chris. Hyunjin remained sat at the counter, a bored expression on his face.
“Can I order something?” I kept my voice soft as I approached. Hyunjin smiled brightly at me. I noticed the cutest mole that sat underneath his eye as his eyes became sweet moons as the smile landed. What a bright-looking boy to be a rookie for the rival. I’ll let Jeongin know to keep a watch on him from now on.
We learned the hard way not to trust the sweet-looking ones.
“Of course, sweetheart, what can I get you?”
“I want to buy that pretty man in the mask one of Felix’s brownies, please. Tell him it’s from me, please?” I practically begged, keeping my voice light. A gentle point in the right direction and Hyunjin smiled with a nod.
“Of course, how could I not? I’m a hopeless romantic!”
It was hard to walk back to the table without a smirk on my face.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Chan was giggling all throughout lunch. Minho glowered at him, gently lifting his mask every once in a while to take a bite or a sip of his drink.
“Could you stop jumping up and down like a toddler?” Minho fiddled with his father’s ring on his finger. He just got it resized and was getting used to wearing the heavy ring. Why did his ancestors decide on such a gaudy piece?
“Didn’t you hear? The pretty baker apparently gets turned to mush by me,” Chan nearly squealed, his legs swinging back and forth as he danced along to the song that played. Minho sighed.
“You probably could with all that muscle, you bonehead.”
“Hey,” Chan’s bottom lip poked out, causing his top lip to gently touch the septum ring, “Meanie.”
“Go ask him out,” the brownie was good, he noted. He wouldn’t mind if the baker boy was around if he could keep eating these brownies, “He’s a good Brownie Boy.”
“We should probably find out his name.”
Minho couldn’t give a damn what his name was. Chan cared though, so he guessed he would too.
“Excuse me, sirs,” Minho didn’t bother to look up as one of the workers came up to them. He knew him to be one of their newer recruits working under Chaeryeong’s unit. Hyunjin and Yeosang probably didn’t even know they were next to their superiors, waiting on him hand and foot like they were meant to. Maybe he should station them at the Main House for a while.
“Hello, Hyunjin, what can we do for you?” Minho said and Hyunjin looked slightly taken aback, his features easily showed his emotions. He sighed internally. Hopefully, Chaeryeong can kill that habit of his.
“How’d you know my name?”
“What do you need?” Chan repeated Minho’s question. Minho didn’t like to repeat himself.
Hyunjin blinked himself out of his surprise, “Oh, um, yeah.”
He held up a wax paper bag to Minho, “Estela, that girl over there. She bought this for you.”
Minho supposed she was pretty enough. The same girl who stared at him earlier, not even any type of shame covering her face when she was caught. Smooth, deeply brown skin covered her strong features. High cheek bones and glossy lips were smiling his way. He could tell her hair as long as it was brushed into a high, curly ponytail. Her outfit was simple enough, but she was subtle. To the untrained eye (Minho had a trained eye, don’t worry), it looked as if her outfit was just dark flared jeans and a black turtleneck. Minho knew a designer label when he saw it. Minho knew the tennis bracelet on her wrist wasn’t fake but was probably custom. The apple watch she had, though the band looked old, had to be the newest model, and so was her phone. Her purse was the kicker though. Dingey, probably decades old, probably considered vintage as some old designer’s name decorated it.
The girl was flexing, but it was a subtle flex. An almost humble brag. Lee Minho appreciated that.
Minho took the wax paper bag from Hyunjin, gesturing towards the girl. His face was covered but he smiled underneath, hoping it still showed his gratitude.
“Shouldn’t you go and thank her?” Chan questioned him and Minho rolled his eyes as he turned back to the table. He could still feel the girl staring down the back of his neck. She really did have no shame.
“No, but, Hyunjin,” Minho slid over a wad of cash to him, “Let the girl know she can have anything her and her friend want.”
Hyunjin nodded before bowing and walking. Chan just shook his head slightly, “Talking to her would have been too hard?”
“She just wants my attention. Here I am, giving it to her.”
“She’s pretty,” Chan stated, taking another bite of his sandwich, “Besides when was the last time you got laid?”
“Getting laid is not one of my main concerns, no.”
“It should be, especially if she looks like that,” Chan shrugged, taking a drink, “Go on, eat Minho.”
Minho was beginning to actually enjoy his food before he was approached again. This time by a worker he didn’t see before, one with pretty, long, and dark hair and a young face. Maybe the bangs made her seem younger than she was. Probably a student that worked with Felix. He couldn’t tell if she was a part of any mafia dealings at all.
“Hi, sorry to disturb you, sir. I was told by Miss Estela, and paid rather well, to come over here and spit in your food.” the young girl said with a small giggle and Chan sucked in a breath in shock and Minho simply blinked in response.
“Excuse me?”
“She said that she would be damned before having a man ignore her kindness and just shove money back in her face,” the girl said before sighing, “That’s actually the meanest words I’ve ever known Miss Estela to say. She doesn’t particularly like to be ignored, sir.”
“What’s your name, kid? How much did she pay you?”
“Yuna,” she bowed politely again, “Five hundred dollars to spit in your food.”
“That’s it?” Minho laughed a little breathy as he reached into his pocket and counted some notes out before sliding that pile over to Yuna, “Here’s double that to not spit in my food and to tell your Miss Estela that I don’t take threats kindly.”
“Estela,” Chan repeated the name once Yuna left to relay the message, “That’s French, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” Minho didn’t care. If the girl wanted to leave an impression, she sure did. He’d give her that much.
It wasn’t long before Yuna came back, handing him a business card, “From Miss Estela.”
Minho took the card before Yuna walked away, no doubt tired of playing the messenger game even if it left her two thousand dollars richer at the end.
“She left,” Chan noted as he kept watchful eyes on the door. Minho looked at the card.
Persephone’s Heart
Estela, Owner & Florist
Office: xxx-xxx-xxxx
Hours: Mondays-Fridays: 9AM-7PM, Closed Saturdays and Sundays
458 Gray Way
The card was subtle in decorations. Pretty flowers decorating the edges. It was an all-black card with gold lettering. Quality made to last. Another subtle flex that even for her small business and something as inconsequential as business cards, she got the best material they could be printed on.
He flipped it over to the back to see pretty cursive lettering.
Come by sometime, I’d love to give you flowers as pretty as you. And maybe, you can enjoy other types of brownies.
Minho tucked the card into his wallet as Chan eyed him. A laugh left Chan’s mouth before he could stop it.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Hongjoong was always dressed nicely. His neatly split dyed black and white hair was styled strategically, a method I know he spent years perfecting. His hair was unruly in style but he made it work. Even just wearing a t-shirt and jeans he looked like a model. His eyeglasses sat perched on his face as he looked at me in contempt, his lip pouty. His darkly outlined eyes were like boba pearls as he looked at me, his eyebrows curved as he looked at me.
“I haven’t seen my best friend in weeks,” Kim Hongjoong hugged me before I could allow him. I tried not to let my disdain show and let him.
“You see Wooyoung every day.”
“You bitch,” Hongjoong slapped my arm. It barely fazed me, “I’m talking about you.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this meeting over with. I left Jisung at the shop by himself today. I need to at least be there to close.”
Hongjoong frowned at me before gesturing for me to sit in his office. The room was as eclectic as he was, covered in a multitude of various knickknacks. His floors had the softest rainbow-printed rugs that matched curtains. His deck was a glossy gray color and held all of his most prized possessions, from a solid gold harmonica to a picture of us when we were seventeen. Probably the last time either of us smiled genuinely.
We shouldn’t have been smiling then.
“Take a seat, Joong,” I said and he sat down across from me at his desk while I sat in his extra chair across from him, “I really did not have to do that, you know?”
“I don’t like to feel like I’m in charge when I’m with you.”
“What a submissive thing to say.”
Hongjoong had the nerve to blush at my words before waving me off, “We have a few things to discuss.”
The meeting was long and tiring, as it usually was. Hongjoong was straight to the point but no situation we dealt with was. We spent the next couple of hours trying to make everyone we can happy, give us money, or any other business we needed to attend to before my phone rang.
Han Jisung.
“Hey, Hannie, what is it?”
I could easily envision the squirrelly man as he spoke. Han Jisung, while being a rookie under the mafia, still was a sweet kid. Just needed money to help his family out, and we were happy to give it, perhaps a little more leniently than usual. If I paid him a couple extra thousand on some paychecks or cleared some bills and loans from him here and there, he was forever grateful. I didn’t have the heart to throw him completely into our business, instead keeping him on the outskirts as an errand boy and a worker in my shop.
“Hey, boss, there’s a man here? Says he won’t leave till you show up. Want me to do the thing you always say to do?” Jisung sounded nervous as he asked, meaning he did not want to do the thing. That thing was calling Lia to come in and take care of it.
Suffice to say, she’s a little messy when it comes to us having an issue.
“What does he look like?”
“Kinda hot? Nice clothes. Young.”
Must be the guy from Sunny Chick Bakery we saw earlier, “Very well. Let him know I am on my way.”
“Wait, you sure you wanna come in, boss? He gives hella bad vibes,” Jisung never could hold his tongue, “Maybe you should bring Yeji or Hongjoong with you, I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Bless his heart, “It’s fine, I’ll be on my way.”
I hung up before he could say more then sent a text to Yeji to pull around the car. I could feel Hongjoong’s intense gaze on me.
“Leaving before I dismiss you?” Hongjoong spoke like it was a threat but the grin on his face was teasing.
“And what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” he leaned back in his chair, twisting a pen around his finger, “I heard something about a man there to see you. A romantic man, Estela?”
“None of your business, Joongie.”
“You’ve been my business for as long as I want to remember.”
I rolled my eyes at that, “You could have left once my father died.”
“And leave my business to run itself into the ground?” his earring chains hit his cheek as he shook his head, the jingling sound radiating through the room, “As painful as you are, come around more, yeah? Not just for business meetings.”
“I’ll try.”
“She will,” Yeji walked in then and Hongjoong smirked at her. They always got along way too well for my liking, “Next time, plan a party though. I wish to have fun before I die, Kim.”
“You got it, Hwang,” Hongjoong giggled before standing to lead us both out of his home. Well, my home. It was my family’s mafia house that he and a bunch of the other heads and their assistants, including Yeji, lived in.
By the time I reached the flower shop, it was less than an hour before closing. Jisung was already running around trying to finish all his nighttime tasks. This all usually consisted of preparing tomorrow’s orders, cleaning, and pruning as needed. When he heard the door ring as I entered, his wide eyes looked at me first as if I caught him with a mouth full of cookies.
Which I have before.
“Estela!” Jisung waved as I walked in, “You’re later than usual today.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, no!” He quickly waved his hands, “You just always work the full Monday.”
“Had some family business to attend to.”
“Again? God, I can’t believe you take care of your grandmother all alone.”
My grandmother died when I was seven in a raid, but Jisung didn’t need to know that.
“Where’s this mystery man?”
“Apparently his name is Taecyeon.”
“No last name?”
He shrugged, “That’s all he gave me.”
Curiouser and curiouser. Color me intrigued, “Well, where is he?”
“Outback in the nursery. Wanted to see our different cherry trees apparently.”
I went outback. The store wasn’t huge or extravagant but it was ideal and able to hold everything we needed neatly. It was cleanly designed with glossy white fixtures and rose gold accents. Plants bloomed and flourished throughout. We had enough space to even allow a customer service aspect of a full nursery for bigger products or the ones that needed full sun. This was where I found the aforementioned Taecyeon, carefully reaching out to a mini Japanese maple.
“A full Japanese maple can grow to 25 feet in height,” I told him, Taecyeon turning to me as if I didn’t approach him silently. Like he already knew I was there. He simply blinked and hummed in response before standing up straight. The mask was still covering his face and this time he was wearing dark-framed glasses.
“I don’t know much about plants,” Taecyeon spoke as if whatever he said was just fact. No room for much in terms of arguments.
“We have gardening classes once a month if that’s something you’re interested in?”
“Why did you give me your card?”
“Oh? No hesitation huh?”
Taecyeon just raised an eyebrow. I noticed again how intense his gaze was. Though sparkly, it was like a roughly cut diamond, not the ones made for rings but the ones made for knife handles.
“You’re cute. I like beautiful men,” I think he would appreciate the honest truth. The hum of approval he gave proved it just as well.
It wasn’t the truth but how could he know that?
“Well, I appreciate the compliment.”
“I’m full of more if needed.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
I faked a giggle at that. Who knows if Taecyeon could see through me. If he did, he didn’t call me out on it.
“What made you open a botanical shop?”
“I like flowers?” I giggled genuinely that time, I didn’t know how to answer at all.
“Did you go to school for it?”
“Sure.” Does a couple of online courses and a year in France working under a landscaper through boarding school count?
“Do you know anything about landscaping?”
“Surprisingly, yes!”
“How much to hire you?”
Well. That wasn’t expected. This may be a lot easier than I thought, “I’d have to do a quote. How big the area is and what you want versus what is needed?”
“Are you free tomorrow?”
“Now I am.”
“I’ll send a car to pick you up from here at noon?”
“I don’t even think I know your name, sir.”
“What did your employee tell you?”
“Taecyeon.”
“Call me that, you can call me Tae, some friends call me Lee.”
I tried not to think too much about that sentence, “Lee Taecyeon?”
“Sure,” he smiled but it was one of those smiles that glimmered a little too well, showing just enough of his teeth without giving too much. A charmer of a smile.
“Your name that much of a secret that now you’re confusing me? Saying ‘sure’ isn’t an answer.”
Taecyeon had the nerve to look at least a bit bashful at that, “I like keeping pretty girls on their toes.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Kim Seungmin sighed into his cup of coffee. Jongho brought it to him over an hour ago and he was only just now drinking it, the drink already cold. It was way past clocking out time and Seungmin hated working overtime. The only thing he hated more was he still had no leads on the Red Thunder.
The Red Thunder Mafia seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. They didn’t hint at their rise. It was as if Seungmin blinked and suddenly there was another major power in the city. The leader of Red Thunder was just as much of an enigma, no one ever saw him or saw his face in full. Yet, you knew he was present.
At first, there wasn’t much to worry about when it came to this new mafia, they weren’t like the other ones in town, for sure nothing like Kim Hongjoong’s Syndicate. Instead, they seemed calm, practiced, as if nothing could touch them. Then, the city elections happened. It was small at first, a politician that was a heavy rival for an already long-standing congressman would go missing. Maybe a couple of community heads that tried to change the city for the better would suddenly fall ill or move to a new state out of nowhere. Then some detectives would disappear. Go on missions and wouldn’t return for months. If they did come back, they were a different person, a new personality to match the new scars and bruises. Soon, less and less of the police force looked into the Red Thunder. Great for them because as the elections continued, the main opponent for Mayor Park suddenly found themselves dead at dinner. One day, they were laughing, drinking, and celebrating a win in the debates. The next? Passed out at the family dinner table, wine spilling onto the ground while their wife and children screamed.
It wasn’t personal for him, but justice did not have to be personal for Kim Seungmin to want it.
“Hey, Seungmin,” Jongho opened the door to Seungmin’s office, not bothering to knock. He never did, which bothered Seungmin, yes, but Jongho made up for it with his great work ethic each time.
“Yes?”
“Another body was found at one of Red Thunder’s dumpsites,” Jongho said, passing over a file.
One look inside and Seungmin sighed. The body had the usual style of the Red Thunder’s leader. The throat was wide open in a curved smile almost, a very stylistic approach. One that made it known when he killed someone to the detective. Seungmin sighed down at the photograph.
“The victim went by the name Daniel and was a part of a lower-level gang. Apparently, that gang has had it out for Red Thunder ever since they forcibly took over one of the ports.”
“You think he attempted to murder their leader and paid the price?”
“It looks like it,” Jongho said, looking over the file again. His eyebrow knit in worry as he looked over it, “The body was in their dump site, but usually people of this gang wear a specific necklace.”
“So?”
“No necklace was found in the victim’s items.”
“Nowhere near?” Jongho nodded his affirmation.
“Interesting,” Seungmin thought about it for a moment. The wheels in his head were turning faster than he anticipated.
“The chief also wants me to tell you to drop the case and focus on all your other ones.”
“You and I both know I already finished all my assigned cases.”
“I wouldn’t be a good partner if I didn’t,” Jongho turned to leave before stopping at the door, “Listen, don’t get yourself killed trying to find out the inner workings of this mafia. They seem way too ahead of us at every curve and I am not too convinced that half of our department is not in their pockets. It’s dangerous, Seungmin.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jongho left Seungmin to his thoughts as he added the newfound body to his ever-growing binder on the Red Thunder.
Maybe it was time for a new approach.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I can’t believe he hired a landscaper without telling me,” the gorgeous man in front of me shook his head quickly, a bunch of black hair escaping the neatly gelled down style he seemed to have kept it in. He was way taller than Chan or ‘Taecyeon’ and was nicely dressed in an all-black suit that looked like it was made of some Italian fabric. His hands were covered in a smooth leather as he twirled a phone in his hands. His full, pretty pink lips were made up into a sneer and his eyes were damn near staring into my soul.
I tried to keep the sweet girl attitude but the look of disgust on this man’s face was getting to me. Glaring would come way too easy if he kept talking.
“When does he ever tell you what he’s doing?” that dragged my attention over to the absolutely beautiful woman next to him. She was a bit taller than me with wavy black hair that reached her shoulders. She was dressed similarly formal as the other man but she wore a white button-up paired with a pinstripe vest and pants. Her boots looked heavy and her hands were clean of everything except two brass knuckles on both hands. The vest held a singular broach on it, a red lightning bolt chained to a smaller figure of what looked like a wasp.
If I didn’t already know she was a part of the mafia, she gave it away too easily.
“What are you doing here, Ryujin?” the man turned to the girl and she shrugged.
Ryujin chuckled, looking at me as if I was an object, not an actual living being in front of her, “Wanted to see what kind of person our fearless leader invites into his home. I bet Yunho is glad to be off of grass cutting duty.”
“She hasn’t got the job yet. Inform Yunho not to get too excited.”
“I already am excited!” A large man bustled in through the front door. I don’t think this one got the ‘wear a suit’ notice like the others had. He dressed more like he was ready to join some boy band than anything. The tall man, Yunho, was dressed in baggy blue jeans, a large white top, and a big puffy jacket that had way too many patches to count. He had on this bucket hat that was low on his face, covering most of it.
He was also the first one of them who looked at me like I was an actual person.
“Hi, you must be Estela. I’m Yunho, it’s nice to meet you,” he held out a hand for me to take and I shook it, noticing how his hands were covered in bruises, some fresher than others.
I suppose a normal girl wouldn’t know off rip that these were all ‘Taecyeon’s’ subordinates in his mafia, “Wow, it looks like he has a lot of friends. I am Estela, it’s great to meet you all.”
“Aren’t you cute?” Ryujin cooed, moving to touch my face before I backed away, “Come on, Seonghwa, let’s keep her.”
Ryujin kind of reminded me of Lia with that sentence. Both were alike in the way that when they first saw me, decided to snatch me up right then and there. I was way younger when Lia first saw me, sitting next to my father during a meeting but that didn’t stop the girl from coming up to me after and practically begging me to follow her into her bedroom.
Choi Lia would also not like me letting another woman lay claim to what she deemed ‘hers’. No matter how many times I told her I wasn’t.
I’d rather be dead than belong to anyone.
‘Taecyeon’s’ house was quaint to say the least. Decorated nicely with that I could tell were authentic paintings and bigger than the usual home of a regular person. The house resided on an acre of land so the landscaping job would be big if I were actually planning to do it as a normal landscaper would.
Jeongin’s latest technological design seemed to be weighing in my pocket. Multiple, small black recorders were in my pocket, ready to be placed all around the property. There was no guarantee I would get a chance like this again, and I needed to act on it.
“She’s a person, Ryujin,” the first guy, Seonghwa, shook his head, exhaustion covering his features. More often than not, he reminded me of Yeji and her ever-growing exhaustion. As if just being alive was tiring to them.
“That I am!” I said, forcing a huge smile onto my face, “I am also a person who would like to get started on my work, if I can?”
“Give it a second, I’m waiting on someone to give you a tour of the property like the Boss suggested,” Seonghwa said looking down at his phone, “He apparently doesn’t want me to do it.”
“I can!” Ryujin raised an arm quickly, “I’m not busy right now. I would certainly enjoy the opportunity to escort this pretty thing around.”
Yunho rolled his eyes, “I can do it, Mingi is still looking at his current patient anyway before we head home.”
That sentence caught my interest. Mingi. Song Mingi? Our doctor, huh? I was already well aware of the fact that Mingi worked with other mafias. We allowed him to, it’s not like the man knew any of our secrets. Hell, he didn’t even know that I was the leader, just thought I was another mafia whore that got caught in the mix of violence too many times to count. Of course, we knew Song Mingi’s entire life story. Every move he made was under our radar, especially when we found out he got married a year back to a Yunho. Seems like the name just got a face.
Fuck, that also means I have to avoid Mingi while he is here.
Seonghwa sighed heavily as he stared at his phone, “I suppose that is fine since Lee isn’t answering and neither is Chris. Just as well, Yunho, you know where and where not to take them, get them familiar with where you keep tools if needed. Miss Estela is just using today to quote a price, correct?”
He still barely acknowledged my existence past this. I nodded and Seonghwa kept talking. Something about him made me feel inconsequential.
As Yunho took me around the property, I discreetly placed bug after bug in the around as much as I could. I wish this tour included indoors because I am sure the most gets done there. The best I could do is place one in the bathroom and one on a painting in the mudroom. A couple of the bugs laid in their garage port too. Hopefully, Jeongin could find out something that way.
“I hope this tour was helpful to you in some way,” Yunho walked us back up to the front of the property where my car sat waiting. It was rare days where I drove myself around but it was better on certain days like this one. The matte black SUV sitting idly in the driveway as Yunho walked me to it.
“It was, I think I came up with a quote. Will you relay it to Mr. Lee for me?” I informed him, writing the amount on one of the business cards I kept in my pocket.
“I will be sure to let him know,” Yunho smiled and I had an inkling of an idea that his smile was reminiscent of a sunray. He didn’t smile like everyone else in this business, his smile reached his eyes and filled his face euphorically. Yunho was a genuine person, “It was nice to meet you, Miss Estela.”
“You as well! You’re too sweet,” I smiled back, this time genuinely and I meant it. It was hard not to smile in Yunho’s presence. He made you feel comfortable so easily, way too easily.
I’ll have Jeongin keep an eye out on him too.
“Estela?” We both whipped our heads around to see the good doctor leaving the Lee Residence, Lee himself following him. Song Mingi looked confused but who could blame him. He’s never seen me without Lia or Hongjoong so I’m sure he was more than a little worried, especially seeing me with his husband.
“You know her, love?” Yunho asked but it was ‘Taecyeon’ or Lee, god what do I call this man, who looked as if he questioned it more.
“Yes,” Mingi said with a shrug. “Patient/Doctor confidentiality, babe. Plus, she was the one who provided the flowers for our wedding.”
Oh yeah, I did do that. It was the least I could do when Mingi worked day and night attending to my crew. But, he didn’t know that.
“Really?” If it was possible, Yunho’s smile was even brighter as he turned to me again, “Those arrangements were so beautiful, I ended up saving so many of them. Thank you so much.”
Yunho bowed at that and Lee scoffed at that. Mingi gave him a scathing look, one I didn’t think the kind doctor was capable of. It was interesting seeing this side of him, one so controlled by love.
“Yunho, you are free to take your leave,” Lee “Taecyeon” called out as the pair came closer, “I wanted to discuss some things with Miss Estela before she went off.”
“Yes, sir,” the husbands left without a further word, leaving me alone in the mafia leader’s presence.
“I’m sure you’ve already picked up on just how confidential this landscaping job is,” his smile was reassuring but cold, “My crew isn’t exactly subtle, huh?”
“Maybe if I was dumber.”
“Yet, you didn’t run off? Why is that?”
I suppose a regular girl would have been intimidated by them and run off. I’ll have to keep that noted for next time, “I didn’t say I was smart either.”
I barely knew the man in front of me but his laugh was almost contagious. Strong as he threw his head back and cackled happily. He didn’t bother covering the laugh or not feeling it entirely. It was something to admire.
“Have you ate lunch yet?” he said when he sobered up from laughing.
“It’s like 5 in the evening.”
“Let me make dinner for you then,” he said, leading me into his home again, almost giving me no choice in the matter.
His hands were warm as they grabbed mine, dragging me behind him. They didn’t engulf mine but our hands were the same size. This proximity allowed me to get a proper idea of how sweet he smelled. Egyptian musk and amber and something else.
Something sweet.
He told me to call him Lee. Something about how we’re friends now that he has officially hired me. I hate this name change guessing game. Regardless, Lee was a pretty competent cook, making a traditional meal for us to enjoy. He sat me at one of his island stools that overlooked the kitchen. I got to see him move back and forth in the kitchen, humming every now and again as he cooked. I resigned myself to playing around on my phone as I waited, having already bugged the room as we entered. Jeongin would be proud. I shot out a quick text to tell him the entire place was bugged.
Yang Jeongin replied with some meme.
“How much do you like spicy?” Lee asked me, looking up with a sweet smile as held a bottle over the food hesitantly. He waited patiently for the answer.
“I prefer things that cause me pain,” I replied without thinking, a funny joke that would have caused Hongjoong to agree or Changbin to jokingly reply offering to cause the pain. Lee on the other hand looked as if he swallowed a frog, slowly taking a gulp before pouring the bottle into whatever he was making.
“I also like causing pain,” after a couple of silent moments, he replied with that and I chuckled.
“Kinky, Lee,” I joked and his eyes cut to me, panther like. As if he could pounce at any moment. The thought alone had me on edge, whether in caution or the subtle flirting, I didn’t know anymore.
Even I had to admit how amazingly gorgeous Lee was. His face was absolutely, soul-wrenchingly beautiful. A strong look that made you keep looking and looking. Pretty pink pouty lips with this perfectly angular nose and jawline. High cheekbones that cradled his annoyingly beautiful face. His eyes were cunning and clever but the glow of him didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Here, taste this,” Lee held a spoon out to my mouth, gently cradling a hand underneath the ladle as not to cause any drips. It drug my attention back down to his hands and that weird ring he wore on his finger.
The second I slightly opened my mouth, Lee’s eyes were on mine, watching my mouth encapsulate the spoon. A sweetly pink tongue darted out to wet his lips while I tasted whatever concoction he had made. His eyes were rapt on mine as he watched and all I felt was pliable underneath his gaze. Strong and sensual.
Lee’s eyes strayed to my mouth again. I’m not one to provoke but I do like to entice. Lowering my gaze slowly, making sure Lee was watching as I darted out a tongue, opening my mouth a bit more. My tongue cleaned off the spoon while he watched, his eyes never leaving my mouth. Once the spoon was completely clean, I hummed softly as I stepped back, gingerly taking a finger to rub any remnants off my lips.
“It tastes good.”
Lee’s eyes stayed stuck on my mouth. The spoon clattering onto the counter as the other hand grabbed my wrist, preventing me from stepping back to far. He walked closer to me, instead of pulling me into him. Lee was the one who tipped my head forward to stare into my eyes without a glance at anything else in this room. I heard a small bubble burst as the souce seemed to roll to a boil but the thought was quickly replaced by Lee taking a knuckle and holding my head level to his.
“Do you mind if I taste?” the gentle voice was like harsh winds followed by a cool breeze as he watched my reaction.
I breathed out softly. Never before have I been touched in a way that wasn’t complete swift moves, this was smooth, gentle, “You should always taste what you make.”
Lee’s lips felt so soft over mine. A strong, hand cradled my jaw, his thumb right over my chin as he pulled my head closer. Another hand came over my shoulder, pressing me closer into the kitchen wall as he kissed me. One of his legs, those strong beautiful thighs, came between my legs. My hands seemed to move on their own, pulling him closer and our bodies together.
“Seems you’re forgetting about the food,” I breathed out the second he let me up for breath and Lee rolled his eyes.
“I wanted to taste the sauce, seems like you enjoyed it,” his tongue darted out aga
