deep thrusts which have you clawing the sheets, lewd sounds of his cock pistoning out of your clutching heat, dragging against your most sensitive places, the practiced rolls of his hips. everything.
he doesn’t like hearing you whine and beg him to slow down, or stop. he knows you don’t actually mean that so he clamps a tight palm over your mouth and continues shifting your organs around so good.
he pulls your hair, chokes you, grips your hips so tight they might bruise. he cums inside of you not once, not twice but as many times as he’d like because he just has so much.
he’s sweet when he’s caring for you.
he kisses your wet, messy face and soothes you. apologizing for how hard he went on you. he rubs the places where he marked you lovingly, giving you a warm bath and apologizing all the way for the number he had done to you.
but when he tucks you into bed, your body nestled against his larger one, he doesn’t feel a single ounce of guilt. watching your adorable face drift into sleep, he knows he would fuck you up again, and again, and again.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
bff rafe thats has a past of being a notorious fuckboy is shocked when his lifelong bff (reader) mentions that shes a virgin bc shes undeniably HOT. and hes experienced... shes not... so they do something about it..!
pov. while playing truth or dare, he discovers his long time bestfriend (who’s so hot and cute) has never had sex before.
notes. i love this plot, it’s so similar to my nerd x frat boy rafe fanfic! thank you for recommending this anonymous
content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, gentle sex, vanilla sex, praising, cussing, titty sucking, no proof read, rafe teaching kissing, oral sex
rafe grew up swearing he’d never be attracted to you, swore he’d never let himself be perverted toward you. but ever since you hit college, it’s been a different story.
he’s been with so many girls. every age, every type, but none of them ever hit like you do. your tits sit so perfectly in your bra that he gets nervous whenever you stand there casually talking about life while getting dressed.
he’s seen you almost naked plenty of times, just in a bra and panties, but never fully bare. he acted cool in the moment, eyes not lowering down to the obvious outline of your pussy. but he’d be lying if he said he’d never fantasized about you being fully bare and finally seeing the outlines.
the soft curves of your body make him hard in seconds. even the lightest brush of his fingers against you while he was taking a photo for your mom’s facebook left him aching.
it’s honestly laughable how many times rafe has told himself you’re completely off limits. all those almost-kisses, the times he’s accidentally walked in on you changing, and the sharp jealousy he felt whenever his friends started showing interest in you, none of it helped.
but right now, the two of you are playing truth or dare with a generous side of alcohol that wasn’t exactly part of the rules. it’s been light and playful so far; crushes, stripping off a hoodie or socks, handstands against the wall, holding your breath for thirty seconds. then you both decided to make it more interesting.
“someone you’d fuck for access to their partner?” you asked, reading from a website full of spicy questions. rafe laughed. “any lesbian couple,” he teased. you rolled your eyes. “cheater!” you yell. he grinned before asking his own. “do you prefer virgins or experienced guys?” he questioned. the question came too smooth, like he’d been waiting to ask it for a while. “i don’t know… i’m a virgin,” you said, then laughed. “i haven’t gotten that far yet.” you add.
rafe didn’t laugh with you. he stared at you like you’d just said something insane. “what?” he asked quietly. “sorry, i was joking,” you clarified, still smiling. “i meant i basically am a virgin.” you continue.
his expression didn’t change. his eyes dragged slowly down your body, taking you in. “no… i heard you,” he said, voice low. you blinked, suddenly aware of how intently he was looking at you. “oh.” a small smile tugged at your lips.
“how are you still a virgin?” he asked before he could stop himself. his gaze wandered shamelessly over your curves, no longer pretending it was casual. you felt heat rise in your cheeks, but the alcohol made you bold. “wanna come do something about it?” you teased, locking eyes with him.
rafe’s smirk was slow and hungry. “you giving me a go?” he asked and you paused, tilting your head as you held his stare. then you nodded.
rafe didn’t waste another second. still sitting on the floor across from you, he leaned forward, one hand bracing on the carpet as he closed the distance.
his other hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. you could smell the faint mix of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath right before his lips met yours.
the kiss was soft at first, warm and careful, like he was testing the waters. but when you stayed frozen, unsure, he pulled back just enough to look at you. “i… i don’t know how to kiss,” you whispered, a little embarrassed.
rafe’s eyes softened, but his smirk stayed. “that’s okay, baby. i’ll teach you.” he said. he tilted your chin up slightly with his fingers. “just relax your lips… don’t tense up.” his voice was low and patient. “follow what i do.” he adds.
he leaned in again, slower this time, pressing his mouth to yours with a little more pressure. his lips moved gently, guiding yours to part just enough. when you started to mirror him, he hummed approvingly against your mouth.
“good girl… like that,” he murmured between kisses. “use a little tongue if you want.”
he demonstrated, licking softly at your bottom lip until you opened for him. the moment your tongues touched, a small sound escaped you, and rafe deepened the kiss, taking control but staying gentle enough for you to keep up.
his hand slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he kissed you like he’d been waiting years to do it. he pulled back for air, forehead resting against yours, breathing a little heavier. “see? you’re a natural,” he whispered, voice rough. “again?” he whispered, voice low and rough.
you nodded, cheeks flushed. “yes.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, a wicked little smirk tugging at his mouth. “beg me for it then.” he teased. you bit your lip, heart racing, but the heat between you made you brave. “please, rafe… kiss me. i want you to teach me.” you begged. his eyes darkened with satisfaction. “good girl.”
he leaned in and captured your mouth again, slow but deliberate to make you ache. “relax your lips,” he murmured against you. “open for me a little… yeah, just like that.” he kissed you deeper, guiding your mouth with his, teaching you how to move, how to respond, all to him. his tongue slipped in lazily, stroking yours until you started kissing him back properly, all soft and eager.
while his mouth worked against yours, your hands moved on their own. you tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly and over your head. he quickly kissed you once again, as you dropped it beside you, now sitting there in just your bra, chest rising and falling quickly.
rafe broke the kiss to look down at you. his gaze locked on your tits, big and perky, straining against the thin fabric of your bra. they were so full and plump, perfectly rounded with a soft, sexy bounce as you breathed. he smiled, slow and hungry. “so fucking pretty,” he breathed.
he couldn’t hold back anymore. rafe leaned down, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the swell of your breasts. his hands cupped them, squeezing gently, feeling their weight and softness. “fuck… look at these tits,” he groaned, clearly obsessed with how big and plush they were.
he pulled one cup down, exposing a nipple, and immediately dragged his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth. he moaned against your skin, sucking harder, switching between licking broad strokes and deep, greedy pulls. his other hand kneaded your other tit, thumb brushing the nipple through the fabric.
he was completely lost in them, burying his face between your soft, plump curves, kissing and sucking like he couldn’t get enough.
you got shy all of a sudden, face burning as the heat between your legs became too much. biting your lip, you reached down, grabbed his hand, and slowly guided it to the waistband of your shorts, pressing his fingers there.
rafe pulled back from your chest, eyes filled with desire and hungry as he understood exactly what you wanted. “yeah?” he murmured, voice rough. without another word he hooked his fingers into your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion and tossing them aside.
you were completely bare now. rafe’s gaze dropped between your thighs, and he let out a low groan. his fingers found your clit instantly, rubbing slow, firm circles over the sensitive little bundle. your hips jerked hard at the first touch, twitching and bucking uncontrollably as he played with your soaked, horny clit.
“fuck, look at you,” he breathed, eyes locked on the way your body reacted, twitching and jerking every time he stroked you. “so sensitive already.” he comments.
you moaned loudly, the sound spilling out as pleasure shot through you. your back arched and you leaned back until you were lying flat on the floor, chest heaving.
rafe didn’t stop. he moved down between your legs, spreading them wider. before you could catch your breath, he pinned your hips down firmly to the floor with both hands, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away.
then his mouth was on you. his tongue dragged hot and wet over your clit, licking and sucking with filthy hunger.
he kept you pinned down tight, strong hands gripping your thighs as he ate you out like he’d been starving for it, tongue flicking and circling, lips sucking gently then harder. every time you tried to buck or twist, his grip only tightened, keeping you right there for him.
rafe kept his mouth on you, licking and sucking your clit until your moans turned into desperate little cries. you couldn’t take it anymore.
“rafe… please,” you whimpered, voice shaky. “please fuck me. i want you inside me. please.” you plead.
he pulled back from between your thighs, lips shiny, eyes full with lust. “yeah? you want my cock, baby?” he asked, already moving up your body. he shoved his shorts down just enough, freeing himself, and settled between your spread legs. you nodded quickly, breathing fast. “please… i need it.” you continued on.
rafe leaned down, kissing you softly as he lined himself up. he rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked entrance, then started pushing in, very slow and careful.
just the tip stretched you open, and you gasped, body tensing hard. it was a lot. your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tight as you struggled to adjust.
“shh, easy baby,” rafe murmured, voice low and sweet against your ear. he stayed perfectly still, only the head inside you. “you’re doing so good already. just breathe for me. we’ve got all the time you need, okay? i’m not gonna hurt you.” he says sweetly.
you whimpered, nodding, trying to relax around his thick tip. “that’s my good girl,” he praised, kissing your neck and jaw. “you can take it. just let me in nice and slow… there you go.” he continued.
he pushed forward another inch, then stopped again, letting you feel every bit of him. his hand stroked your hair, thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered encouragement. “look at you… so tight and pretty for me. you’re doing perfect, baby. whenever you’re ready, i’ll give you more. no rush.”
after a few deep breaths, the stretch started turning into something hotter. you nodded again, and rafe began moving, continuing the slow, shallow thrusts, easing more of his cock into you with every gentle rock of his hips. he kept talking you through it, voice warm and steady.
“feel that? that’s all for you. just relax and let me fuck you nice and slow… good girl. you’re taking me so well already.” he kept that gentle rhythm, letting you feel every inch as he worked himself deeper, patient and sweet while your body slowly opened up for him.
rafe kept his pace slow and deep, rocking into you with steady thrusts that gradually grew stronger. your legs were spread wide open for him, knees bent and falling further apart with every push of his hips. they bounced and shook each time he sank back in, the soft flesh of your thighs jiggling from the impact.
you were holding onto him for dear life. arms wrapped tightly around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as your body rocked beneath him. every thrust pulled a shaky moan from your throat, your chest pressed flush against his while he fucked you.
“fuck… you feel so good,” he groaned against your neck, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread nice and wide for him. “look at these legs… all open for me.” he said.
your grip on him tightened as he thrust a little deeper, your walls fluttering around his cock. you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing hard, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded while he filled you over and over again.
the wet sounds of him sliding in and out mixed with your soft, desperate moans, your body bouncing gently on the floor with each roll of his hips. rafe kissed the side of your head, still talking you through it in that low, sweet voice. “that’s it, baby… just hold onto me. you’re taking my cock so fucking well.” he said.
rafe kept fucking you with his deep, and steady thrusts. your legs spread wide and bouncing softly with every roll of his hips. you were still clinging to him tightly when you reached up and tugged desperately at the bottom of his shirt.
“take it off,” you breathed.
he didn’t hesitate. rafe slowed his thrusts just enough to yank his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, since he has done it so many times, tossing it aside. the second his bare chest pressed against yours, you pulled him down harder, craving his mouth.
he leaned all the way down, covering your body with his as he kissed you. at first your kissing was eager but messy, a little too much tongue too fast, lips slipping awkwardly as you tried to keep up.
rafe smiled against your mouth. “slow down, baby,” he murmured, voice husky. “watch…”
he took control, tilting his head slightly and kissing you deeper, slower. his tongue slid sensually along yours, teasing and stroking in long, wet strokes that made your stomach flutter. you tried to match him but slipped again, pushing your tongue too eagerly. he gently sucked on your bottom lip, correcting you.
“easy… let me lead,” he whispered. “open your mouth a little more… yeah, you got it baby.” he coos.
then he really kissed you, hot, filthy, and unhurried. his tongue licked into your mouth deeply, curling around yours in slow, sexy strokes.
wet sounds filled the space between you as he fucked you and kissed you at the same time, tongues sliding and tangling sensually. every time you messed up the rhythm he fixed it with a soft groan, guiding you until you were kissing him back perfectly, sloppy, passionate, tongue heavy making out that left you both breathless.
you moaned into his mouth, legs trembling around his waist as he kept thrusting into you, never breaking the intense kiss. his tongue explored yours like he owned it, slow and dirty, sucking lightly on your tongue before sliding back in deep again.
“good girl” he praised against your lips once more, then dove right back in for another kiss. rafe groaned against your mouth as you kept kissing him, your tongues sliding hot and wet together. he could feel how desperate you were getting, the way your pussy clenched around him tighter with every thrust.
“you want it harder, baby?” he rasped, breaking the kiss just enough to look at you. you nodded, biting your lip. his hips snapped forward suddenly, driving his cock deeper and faster. your legs bounced harder, spread wide and shaking as he started fucking you with more force.
you cried out, nails digging into his back as he picked up the pace. the wet slap of skin on skin got louder, his thrusts turning rougher, pounding into you steadily. every hard stroke hit that perfect spot inside you, making your whole body jolt.
“rafe—fuck—” you moaned, holding onto him tighter, legs trembling uncontrollably around his waist. “that’s it,” he encouraged, fucking you harder, deeper, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread open for him. “cum on my cock, baby. i can feel how close you are.” he continues.
rafe kept pounding into you harder, hips snapping with deep, relentless thrusts that made your whole body bounce beneath him. your legs stayed spread wide, trembling violently as your orgasm crashed over you.
“rafe—!” you cried out, back arching hard off the floor as you came hard on his cock. your pussy clenched and pulsed around him in tight, wet spasms, gushing slick, creamy liquid all over his thick shaft. the warm wetness painted his dick with every thrust, coating him shiny and messy, dripping down his balls as he fucked you through it.
he looked down between your bodies, groaning loudly at the sight. “fuck, baby… look at that. you’re soaking my dick so good,” he rasped, voice strained with lust. he didn’t slow down, sliding in and out of your spasming, drenched pussy, the wet sounds even filthier now as your cum coated every inch of him.
your body kept twitching and jerking, soft whimpers falling from your lips while he kept thrusting through your orgasm, his cock glistening with your release.
PAIRING: hudson williams x fem!reader
WARNINGS: overbearing paparazzi, intentional lowercase, no use of y/n
GENRE: fluff?
PLAYLIST: here
WORD COUNT: 602
NOTE: got hudson on the brainnn
navigation | ask | hudson williams masterlist
you weren’t even supposed to stop.
that was the plan, at least. the car would pull up, hudson’s security would clear a path, and you’d be inside his hotel before anyone could really get a look at you.
heated rivalry had only been out a few days, surely things couldn’t have changed that much.
they had.
the moment the car slowed, shouting erupted. security was already out, two guards moving fast to the curb, hands out, voices firm as they tried to keep the crowd back. it didn’t matter. cameras still flashed from every angle, bright enough to sting your eyes.
“hudson! hudson, over here!”
“is that your girlfriend?”
“look this way!”
your hand found his automatically. hudson squeezed back hard, his other arm coming around you, anchoring you to his side as the door opened.
“just keep your eyes forward,” he murmured, “stay close to me.”
you stepped out between him and a guard, boxed in but still exposed. the sidewalk felt like it was vibrating, people pushing against barricades, shouting questions that weren’t really questions at all.
security tried to funnel you toward the hotel entrance, but someone still managed to break the line.
a photographer stepped forward without looking, trying to get a shot over a guard’s shoulder, and slammed straight into you. the impact jolted you, knocking you off balance with a gasp.
before security could even react, hudson was already there.
“hey!” his voice cut through the noise as he shoved the guy back, pure instinct. “back the hell up.”
the guards pushed toward the guy immediately, pulling the photographer away, barking warnings, but he barely noticed. his hands were on you, shaking just slightly as he looked you over.
“are you okay?” he worried, “did he hurt you?” quickly checking you over.
his jaw was tight, anger simmering just under the surface. more security closed around you tighter now, practically forming a wall as they rushed you the rest of the way inside. hudson stayed half a step behind you, one hand at your back.
the hotel doors slid shut, muting the chaos outside.
hudson turned to you immediately.
“let me see you,” he said as he searched for bruises that hadn’t appeared yet. “i know you said you’re okay, but just let me look.”
you softened then, seeing how rattled he really was.
“i’m really okay,” you promised.
he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “they had security. we had security and still-”
you stepped closer to him before he could fully spiral.
your hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently along his jaw. he stilled at the touch, eyes snapping back to yours. you tugged him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck, holding him firmly.
“i’m okay,” you whispered. “‘i need you to believe me.”
he hesitated only a second before his arms came around you, tight, grounding himself in the feel of you. his forehead dropped to your shoulder, breath finally slowing.
“i lost it,” he admitted quietly, “my managers going to kill me.”
“you did what you had to,” you smile, “and they’ll handle it.” you tilt your head slightly towards the impatient security guards behind you.
“just want you to know that i've got you.” he whispered.
you smiled gently, brushing your thumb back over his cheek. “i know you do.”
you rose onto your toes to kiss him, before pulling back, your hand hooked around his arm as security urged you toward the elevators.
2026 IALREADYMADEYOUAPROMISE ALL RIGHTS RESERVED !
PAIRING: hudson williams x fem!reader x connor storrie
WARNINGS: intentional use of lowercase, no use of y/n
GENRE: fluff
PLAYLIST: here
WORD COUNT: 805
NOTE: lowkey wanna make a series out of this . . .
navigation | request | two is infact better than one masterlist
that’s the thing about the globes. every five steps, someone stops you. a producer you haven’t seen in years. a reporter who remembers a quote you gave once and will never let it go. a camera swiveling toward you the second you slow down.
you’re midway through another interview when it happens.
the interviewer. bright smile, mic angled, tilts her head toward the carpet behind you. “so, we have to ask. heated rivalry has basically taken over the internet. have you watched it and if you did, did you like it?”
you blink. then your face lights up.
“did i like it?” you repeat, already laughing. “i loved it.”
the interviewer grins, clearly pleased. “yeah?”
“oh, i binged it in less than a day,” you ramble. “like, canceled plans, phone on silent, unwell about it.”
somewhere just off to your left, you're oblivious that hudson is mid interview himself, glances over, already slightly smirking to himself. he knows where this is going.
“the chemistry,” you continue, hands coming up as you talk, animated now. “that’s what got me. it wasn’t just tension for tension’s sake, you know? there was so much chemistry. like, the way they looked at each other-”
you cut yourself off, laughing. “sorry. i’m getting too into this.”
“no, please,” the interviewer says. “go on.”
“it just hooked me,” you nod, “i don’t even know how to explain it. you start one episode thinking you’ll stop halfway and then suddenly it’s four in the morning and you’re like, what am i supposed to do with myself now?”
the camera zooms slightly closer.
“and,” you add, turning fully toward the lens now, eyes sparkling with mischief, “i am formally begging. publicly. on record. please cast me in season two.”
the interviewer laughs, “oh?”
“i don’t care if it’s a small scene,” you insist, clasping your hands dramatically. “i’ll be a random girl in the background. i’ll do something embarrassing. i’ll do anything.”
you glance straight into the camera again, completely unserious and fully committed. “call me.”
hudson actually snorts from his interview, shaking his head.
you’re still smiling when movement catches your eye, someone passing just by you. tall. dark suit. familiar face.
connor storrie.
your brain short circuits instantly.
“oh my god, wait, connor,” you blurt, turning completely away from the interview without hesitation.
the interviewer looks momentarily startled as you call out, “hi! hi, sorry, hi!”
connor stops mid step, clearly surprised. his face breaks into a grin the second he realises you’re talking to him.
“hey,” he acknowledges, laughing a little, stepping closer.
you don’t even think, you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to get his attention fully. “hi. i’m so sorry, i’m being rude, i’m mid interview, but i wanted to say hi.”
he laughs, shaking his head. “no, it’s okay, hi to you too.”
he leans in and pulls you into a quick side hug, arm warm and around your shoulders. it’s brief, cameras immediately swing toward the two of you.
“good to see you,” his words quiet against your ear.
“you too,” you reply, beaming up at him. “seriously.”
he gives a little nod, still smiling, before letting you go and continuing on toward his own interview spot.
the second he’s gone, you turn back toward the camera, pressing a hand to your chest dramatically.
“i’m fine,” you announce, “woo! i'm totally fine.”
the interviewer laughs, “you alright?”
you fan yourself with your hand, a little over the top. “it should be illegal.”
“what should?”
you glance between where connor disappeared and now realising where hudson is doing his own interview a few feet away, then back to the camera.
“is it weird if i say that they both smell and look so good?” you fangirl, “it’s actually unfair to the rest of us.”
“i mean,” you continue, grinning, “how is anyone else supposed to compete with that? i walked onto this carpet confident and now i’m just-”
you flutter your hand again, mock dazed.
“ruined,” the interviewer finishes for you.
“ruined,” you confirm.
hudson glances over again, catching the tail end of your dramatics. he watches you with an amused, fond smile, completely unaware that he's just watched you just publicly sing his praises.
“and final question,” the interviewer says, still smiling. “if you were cast in season two… who would you want scenes with?”
you don’t even hesitate.
“both,” you blurt out, “together, preferably.”
the interviewer laughs as the segment wraps, thanking you. you step back, still riding the buzz, cheeks warm, heart thudding.
as you finally move toward the ballroom entrance, hudson finishes his interview too, catching up to you as you go and take your pictures.
walking side by side with you now, he raises his brows, amused. “did i hear my show just got aggressively promoted?”
In which ━━ Macklin built his entire life around you, it became second nature. So the minute you’re not there, he’s thrown out of orbit.
Fluff! Maybe angst if u squint???? Macklin and reader ARE dating! Overall just him missing u tbh….. NAWT proofread so deepest apologies if hockey is spelt as ‘hickey’ u know what I meant.
⋆. 𐙚 ̊
Macklin didn’t notice it at first. Not really. Not until things started to look empty.
The little things like the empty chair outside in the backyard where you usually sat, the unopened energy drink in the fridge, the way his head kept snapping up like he was expecting you to just appear out of your shared bedroom and kiss him on the cheek like you do every morning.
The weight of your absence for the next few days didn’t sink in until the first day you were officially gone.
That dumb fucking trip you had planned. He honestly forgot all about it until Friday morning you were up earlier than normal and taking out packed suitcases. He remembered blinking groggily, mumbling something incoherent and desperately trying to tug you back to bed with him as you laughed.
“Mack,” you said softly, in that gentle tone that always made him melt. “The beach. My friend’s party. I talked about it all month, baby.”
“But it’s… 2 in the morning,” he protested, though his words lacked any real bite to them. He sounded more whiny than anything. “She can’t wait a little longer? At least until the sun comes up?”
“No,” you mumbled, gently kissing his temple and laying him back down onto your shared bed. “We’re leaving early now, so Saturday and Sunday we’ll have all day to do activities. I’ll be back Monday morning. I promise.”
Shortcut to now. Friday afternoon— you left today and Macklin already doesn’t know what to do with himself. Will’s been making fun of him, calling him clingy, but he couldn’t give two shits right now because even with the sound of the living room TV on low, the house was still too quiet for his liking.
Macklin practically jumped up when he heard his phone ding, only to groan loudly when it’s just WILL again.
Macklin
Can u stfu for like 5 minutes
Will
I’m crine bro doesn’t know how to live by himself 😭 y/n does everything for him 😭 y/n’s the angel on his shoulder 😭😭😭
Macklin
That’s why ur single.
Will
Okay too far.
Macklin huffs and stares at the screen, switches to your contact, and sends you a small text before he throws his phone on the opposite side of the couch.
Mack 🏒
Text me when you can ❤️ love you so much
He stares blankly at the tv. Some dumb hockey highlights he’s seen a million times that he would usually be interested in, but he realized it’s not as interesting when you’re not here to listen to his rambling.
You
I’m 30 minutes away from the location! I’ll send you a photo of the view once I’m there ❣️ don’t bore yourself to death.
Macklin stares at the message for a long moment before typing back.
Mack 🏒
Miss you already.
Three little dots appear almost immediately.
You
Macklin Celebrini if you mope this entire weekend I’m never leaving the house again
Despite himself, he huffs out a laugh.
Mack 🏒
Promise?
You
You’re sooo dramatic oh my god
Another photo comes through a few minutes later. The view from your passenger window, blurry trees stretching alongside the highway, sunlight pouring gold across the dashboard.
It shouldn’t make his chest ache the way it does.
Macklin presses the heel of his hand against his face and sinks deeper into the couch. The house was never this quiet when you were around.
There was always something. Music from your phone drifting through the kitchen while you cooked. Your laugh echoing down the hallway. The sound of your footsteps padding across hardwood floors at ungodly hours because you “couldn’t sleep and needed cereal.”
Now all he could hear was the television and the occasional buzz of his phone.
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
His phone buzzes again.
Will
Did she block u yet
Macklin
Did u ever learn how to shut the fuck up
Will
Bro you’ve probably sighed 14 times during dinner already
Macklin
Counting my sighs is insane
Will
Being depressed because ur gf went on vacation for 2 days is insane
Macklin doesn’t answer that one.
Because maybe he had a point.
The thing was, it wasn’t even about you being gone for long.
It was the fact that every part of his day kept reaching for you automatically.
He’d opened the fridge earlier and almost grabbed your favorite drink instead of his own. During practice he’d looked toward the stands without thinking, half expecting to find you sitting there with your camera in hand and one of his hoodies pulled over your knees.
Even this morning, half asleep, he’d reached across the bed for you after you’d already left.
Just instinct. Like breathing. Another buzz.
You
Made it!!
A second later, another message.
You
Wait look how pretty :(
The attached photo nearly kills him.
The beach stretched endlessly behind you, sunset spilling pink and orange across the water. Your hair looked messy from the wind, oversized sunglasses slipping down your nose while you grinned at the camera.
Macklin stared at it for so long the screen dimmed. His chest tight.
Not because he thought you looked pretty — though you did. You always did.
But because his first thought was that he wished he was standing beside you.
You
Why did u stop responding HELLO???
Mack 🏒
Sorry. Looking at you.
Three dots.
Then:
You
☹️
You
You’re making me miss you now idiot
Something warm twists hard in his chest.
Before he can answer, another text from Will lights up the top of his screen.
Will
Oh great Macklin Celebrini down bad for his girl this is genuinely a world record
Macklin rolls his eyes and tosses a pillow across the couch even though Will isn’t there to see it.
He switches back to your messages instantly.
Mack 🏒
Come home early
You
Mack :(
Mack 🏒
I know I know
Mack 🏒
Just feels weird here without you
The typing bubble appears slower this time.
You
You know it’s only one weekend right?
Macklin stares at that sentence.
Only one weekend.
And somehow the house still felt hollow.
His gaze drifts toward your abandoned hoodie thrown over the armchair across the room. Toward the pair of shoes you’d kicked off near the front door before leaving in a rush that morning.
Everywhere he looked, there were pieces of you. Like you’d become stitched into the shape of his life without him noticing.
Maybe that’s why this felt so wrong now. Because somewhere along the way, he’d gotten used to orbiting you.
Every routine he had somehow led back to you eventually. Every thought. Every good part of his day. You were just… there. Always there. And now you weren’t.
Macklin exhales slowly before grabbing his keys from the coffee table.
You
Where are u going??? Ur location is moving
Mack 🏒
Drive
You
Be safe pls
Mack
Always
The evening air hits cold against his skin as he steps outside, but it doesn’t help much.
His fingers tap restlessly against the steering wheel during the entire drive. At a red light, his phone buzzes again.
You
Did you seriously leave the house because you missed me
Macklin snorts softly to himself.
Mack 🏒
Maybe
You
Oh my god
You
That’s actually kind of cute wait
He smiles before he can stop himself.
By the time he pulls into the empty parking lot overlooking the water near the harbor, the sky’s gone dark.
Macklin leans back against the seat, staring out at the waves for a while before finally calling you.
You answer almost instantly. “Hi baby.”
The sound of your voice settles something in him immediately. It’s embarrassing, honestly.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
He can hear music faintly in the background on your end. People talking. Waves crashing somewhere nearby.
“You okay?” you ask softly.
Macklin watches the water move under the moonlight. “Yeah.”
A pause.
Then quieter:
“Just miss you.”
The silence on the other end turns warm.
“I miss you too.”
His eyes close briefly.
And for the first time all day, the ache in his chest loosens just enough for him to breathe around it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Wrapped in warm blankets and your boyfriend’s arms, you sleep peacefully. You aren’t even dreaming, just resting, letting your mind reset.
That is until you feel something rutting against your backside.
You whimper softly, sleepily.
“Steve..?” You rub your eyes, turning your head a bit to glance at him.
Sure enough, his brows are knit together and his hips are bucking. You sigh, turning around in his hold to face him.
Cupping his jaw, you very lightly smack his cheek a couple times to wake him up. He groans and takes a moment to actually open his eyes.
His cheeks flush when he meets your critical stare.
“Sorry, baby. Was I rubbing on you?” He asks, voice low and laced with guilt and embarrassment.
You nod, nuzzling your nose into the side of his neck. Your thumbs run over his jawline and you meet his gaze.
“S’okay.” You mumble. “M’sorry I woke you before you came.”
He laughs slightly and presses his face into your hair.
“I am a bit sore now, yeah.” He readjusts himself, trying to get more comfortable with full and achy balls between his thighs.
“You can put it in if you want,” You offer sleepily. “just not all the way in.”
His cock is too much stimulation when he forces it in in its entirety. It hurts and presses on your sweet spot too much. Shallow, on the other hand, would just be comfy and gentle.
He mumbles a quiet thank you and pulls himself out of his boxers.
A hand slips in the front of your pyjama pants and two fingers rub at your clit in wide circles. It’s the perfect technique, enough to get you wet, but too little to completely wake you up.
You let out a soft whimper, his free hand palming at your breasts.
“Not so much foreplay, Steve. M’tired, c’mon.” You beg, just wanting to get back to your beauty sleep.
He concedes and removes his hand from your pants, using it instead to tug them down enough to reveal your soft hole.
His tip rubs haphazardly through the wet folds before it catches on your entrance. He presses his hips forward, sinking himself 4 inches into your heat.
Stopping when he hits your cervix with his tip, he allows a pause to adjust. The thickness of his cock was nice for real sex, but right now it was a pain in the ass. Literally.
You don’t get as long as usual to acclimatize because his dream made him so horny, and he starts to rock himself in and out of you.
The gentle push and pull of it makes your mouth part slightly and some drool to darken a small spot on your pillow.
“That’s my good girl,” He whispers. “s’good for me. Fuck, baby, you’re so warm.”
His voice is rough with sleep and raw need as the quiet wet sounds fill the otherwise silent room.
He won’t force you to come, the absolute gentleman. He generally tries to avoid your clit and just keep his hips rolling.
His cock is twitching, but his balls seem to also twitch a bit too, the skin tightening just seconds before his smooth come paints your insides.
A soft whimper is vibrated into the skin of your shoulder.
“Thank you.” He breathes, finally feeling relieved.
support writers!->interactions greatly appreciated!
✰Taglist
@anthgoldenhrry @naxinomi @beaslebee
—I do not authorize my content to be fed to artificial intelligence—
synopsis : You make one stupid mistake on a bad day and accidentally kidnap the most dangerous man in the city. Instead of killing you, he decides you’re safer under his protection—whether you like it or not.
genre : slice of life, fluff, romance, action, mafia au, drama, crack, slow-burn, little angst
warnings : kidnapping (accidental)
author’s note : haven’t posted in agesss 😭 lowkey got stress when people started sending me asks about being a minor, being moots wif nsfw blogs blah blah thought it was the end of me and my blog 🙏
word count : 2.9k
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You knew something was wrong the moment the car door locked automatically.
Not a normal lock.
A rich lock.
The kind that sounds expensive and final, like it comes with a lawyer.
You freeze in the driver’s seat, oat milk sweating in the cupholder, hands still on the wheel.
“…Huh.”
In the rearview mirror, a man stares back at you.
Not a man.
That man.
Perfectly styled black hair. Sharp eyes. A tailored suit that looks like it costs more than your rent. Calm in a way that suggests violence is not only familiar but efficient.
He blinks once.
Slowly.
“Why,” he asks evenly, “are you in my car.”
You swallow.
“Why,” you reply, equally evenly because your soul has left your body, “were you parked in the Uber zone.”
Silence stretches.
Then—footsteps outside.
Shouting. Multiple voices.
The man in the mirror sighs.
“…Get out.”
You panic.
You do not know what part of your brain fires, only that it does, and suddenly you’re slamming the gas pedal like you’re in an action movie with no stunt training.
The car lurches forward.
Someone screams.
The suited man swears.
And just like that, you commit your first felony.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You pull over in a grocery store parking lot because your hands are shaking too badly to keep driving.
Your heart is trying to escape through your throat.
In the backseat, the man—Hongjoong, you now know, because his phone has rung approximately twelve times and every caller has called him boss—sits zip-tied and vibrating with restrained fury.
You hadn’t even meant to restrain him.
It just sort of… happened.
“Okay,” you say, turning around in your seat. “Let’s all acknowledge that this has gotten out of hand.”
Hongjoong stares.
“…You used my emergency restraints.”
“Oh. So that’s what those buttons were.”
“They are for hostage situations.”
“Well,” you gesture vaguely, “full circle.”
He closes his eyes.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wail. Or maybe that’s just the blood roaring in your ears.
“You have,” Hongjoong says carefully, “exactly thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn’t have my men tear this city apart looking for you.”
You nod rapidly. “Cool cool cool. Great question. So.”
You take a breath.
“I thought you were an Uber.”
His eyes open.
“…Explain.”
“You were in a black car. With the door open. In front of a building that looks like every tech startup ever. I was late. I got in. Your driver yelled. I panicked. You yelled. I panicked more. Then suddenly I’m driving and someone is chasing us and—” you gesture helplessly “—I don’t have the emotional regulation for this.”
Hongjoong studies you.
Really studies you.
Then he asks, “Do you know who I am.”
You squint. “Like… spiritually?”
A beat.
“I am not joking.”
“Neither am I,” you say earnestly. “I am very scared.”
Another beat.
He exhales, long and slow, the sound of a man recalculating the universe.
“…You’re not pretending.”
“No.”
“You truly have no idea.”
“Nope.”
His lips twitch.
Just barely.
“That,” he murmurs, “is certainly new.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
Seonghwa is the first to realize something is wrong.
Hongjoong does not miss calls.
Hongjoong does not leave without an escort.
Hongjoong does not disappear mid-sentence while reprimanding someone.
By the time Wooyoung bursts into the office yelling “THE BOSS IS GONE,” half the building is already mobilizing.
Yeosang has security feeds pulled up.
San is pacing like a caged animal.
Mingi is loudly declaring he knew today felt cursed.
Then Jongho freezes.
“…Why is the boss’s car going ninety in a school zone.”
Everyone turns.
The footage shows it clearly: Hongjoong’s personal vehicle weaving through traffic like it’s being driven by someone who has never known peace.
Seonghwa whispers, “Who drives like that.”
Wooyoung squints.
“…Is that a reusable grocery bag in the passenger seat?”
Silence.
“What,” San says slowly, “do you mean grocery bag.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You’re sitting on the curb now, having insisted on “fresh air for accountability.”
Hongjoong sits beside you, still zip-tied, suit immaculate despite everything.
You hand him a fry.
He stares at it.
“…Are you bribing me.”
“Yes.”
“With fries.”
“They’re seasoned.”
He takes it.
Chews.
“…They’re acceptable.”
You sag in relief.
Your phone buzzes.
Unknown numbers. So many unknown numbers.
You flip it face down and groan. “I’m so going to jail.”
Hongjoong tilts his head. “Unlikely.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“If I wanted you punished,” he says calmly, “you wouldn’t be breathing.”
You stare at him.
“…Okay but that feels worse actually.”
He huffs a laugh before he can stop himself.
That’s when you notice it.
He’s not angry anymore.
He’s curious.
And curiosity, you will later learn, is far more dangerous.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You realize you’re about to die when seven black SUVs pull into the grocery store parking lot like a funeral procession for your sanity.
They stop in a perfect semicircle.
Doors open in sync.
Men step out.
All tall. All armed. All radiating the kind of energy that says HR complaints are handled permanently.
You whisper, “Oh cool. A flash mob.”
Hongjoong sighs. “I told them not to be dramatic.”
“This is not dramatic?” you hiss, gesturing wildly.
Seonghwa is the first to reach him.
“Boss,” he says, voice tight, eyes scanning you like you’re a threat, a liability, and a biohazard all at once. “Are you hurt.”
“I’m fine,” Hongjoong replies. “Untie me.”
San is already crouched in front of you, eyes sharp. “Hands where I can see them.”
You immediately put both hands straight up.
“Omg absolutely. Huge fan of compliance.”
Wooyoung squints. “Why are you… apologizing.”
“I’m a people pleaser,” you explain. “Even in hostage situations.”
Mingi leans toward Jongho. “She’s not even crying.”
Jongho, deeply unsettled: “That’s the worst part.”
Seonghwa cuts the zip ties. Hongjoong stands, rolls his shoulders, adjusts his cuffs like he didn’t just spend an hour bound by someone who smells faintly of oat milk.
Then—he turns back to you.
You brace yourself.
Instead, he says, “You left your phone in my car.”
“Oh thank God,” you breathe. “I thought that buzzing was my conscience.”
Every single man freezes.
San slowly turns to Hongjoong. “Boss.”
“Yes.”
“…Why is she still alive.”
Hongjoong pauses. Considers.
“She’s useful.”
You squawk. “IN WHAT WAY.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
They take you to a warehouse.
Of course they do.
You sit at a metal table. A single light overhead.
The vibe is like a crime documentary, but the execution is… off.
Someone brings you a blanket.
Someone else brings you tea.
You’re pretty sure you hear Wooyoung arguing with Yeosang in the corner.
“I think she’s cursed,” Wooyoung whispers.
“She kidnapped the boss by accident,” Yeosang hisses back. “That’s not cursed, that’s divine intervention.”
Hongjoong sits across from you, elbows on the table.
“Tell me about yourself,” he says.
You blink. “Like… fun facts?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” you start, “I cry at commercials. I once apologized to a mannequin. I work a job I hate and I’m bad at confrontation.”
San frowns. “How did you even overpower the boss.”
You wince. “Adrenaline and unresolved issues?”
Hongjoong hums thoughtfully. “Checks out.”
He studies you for a long moment.
“You weren’t scared of me,” he says.
You tilt your head. “I was terrified generally. You were just… another problem.”
The room goes quiet.
That’s when Hongjoong smiles.
Slow. Sharp. Dangerous.
“Oh,” he murmurs. “That’s new.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The problem, Hongjoong quickly learns, is that you are immune to intimidation.
He glares?
You offer snacks.
He threatens?
You ask if he’s eaten.
He raises his voice?
You flinch and apologize and somehow make him feel bad.
By the end of the night, Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong aside.
“Boss,” he says carefully, “she’s not a spy.”
“No,” Hongjoong agrees.
“She’s not a plant.”
“No.”
“She’s just… a civilian.”
Hongjoong watches you across the room, laughing awkwardly as Wooyoung shows you something on his phone.
“…Unfortunately.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You expect to be released.
You are not.
Instead, Hongjoong says, “You’ll stay.”
You choke on your tea. “I’m sorry—what.”
“For your safety,” he continues smoothly. “You’ve seen too much.”
“I saw a warehouse and like… four guns.”
“And my face.”
You squint. “You have a nice face.”
Silence.
Mingi gasps.
Wooyoung slaps the table.
San looks like he’s witnessing a crime.
Hongjoong clears his throat. “…You’ll have a room.”
“A room?.”
“Yes.”
“This feels like Stockholm syndrome but preemptive.”
He leans closer. “You kidnapped me. This is only fair.”
You stare at him.
“…Can I at least text my boss that I’m sick?”
Hongjoong nods. “Reasonable.”
You type furiously.
You: hey im sick cant come in
Boss: again??
You: kidnapped a mafia boss
Boss: understandable, feel better
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The mafia house is not what you expect.
You expect marble. Cold lighting. A general sense of bloodstains that have stories.
Instead, it looks like an aggressively expensive Pinterest board.
Neutral tones. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A couch that costs more than your student loans. Art that you’re pretty sure is either priceless or money laundering.
You stand in the entryway clutching your tote bag like a shield.
“…Do I take my shoes off?”
Seven men stop moving.
Hongjoong turns slowly. “You… want to take your shoes off.”
“I don’t know your rules.”
Seonghwa clears his throat. “We usually… don’t.”
You nod. Slip them off anyway. Line them up neatly by the door.
Something in the universe shifts.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You wander into the kitchen later that night and immediately make a face.
“Who organized this.”
Wooyoung perks up. “Me.”
“Respectfully,” you say, already opening drawers, “this is a crime.”
Within twenty minutes, the spice rack is alphabetized, the mugs are grouped by size, and the snack drawer is labeled.
Mingi watches in awe. “She’s nesting.”
Hongjoong leans against the counter, arms crossed. “You’re very comfortable for a hostage.”
You pause. “Oh. I forgot I was one.”
He laughs before he can stop himself.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You don’t mean to become part of the routine.
It just… happens.
You sit with Jongho while he patches up a cut.
You listen to Yeosang talk about drones like it’s a TED Talk.
You scold San for skipping meals.
One night, you find Hongjoong in his office at 2 a.m., lights low, staring at paperwork like it personally betrayed him.
You knock softly.
He looks up. “You should be sleeping.”
“So should you,” you counter, holding up a mug. “Chamomile.”
He eyes it suspiciously. “…Is this a power play.”
“It’s tea.”
He takes it anyway.
You sit on the floor. He doesn’t comment.
This becomes a habit.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
It happens accidentally.
You come out of your room one morning wearing one of his hoodies—oversized, black, unmistakably his.
You freeze when you realize.
Hongjoong freezes harder.
The crew stops breathing.
“That’s the boss’s—” Wooyoung starts.
“I was cold,” you say weakly. “I can take it off.”
“No,” Hongjoong says immediately.
Everyone stares at him.
“…I mean. It suits you.”
Seonghwa closes his eyes like he’s praying.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The first time it happens, you don’t even realize it’s dangerous.
A rival group sends a message.
A photo.
Your name is in it.
You’re in the room when Hongjoong sees it.
The temperature drops.
You reach out without thinking and touch his arm.
“Hey,” you say softly. “I’m okay.”
That’s when he snaps.
The room explodes into motion. Orders barked. Guns checked. Fury unleashed.
Seonghwa watches Hongjoong carefully.
He has seen this rage before.
But never like this.
Never personal.
Later, Hongjoong finds you on the balcony, wrapped in his hoodie, city lights below.
“You should be afraid,” he says quietly.
You look up at him. “I trust you.”
Something in his chest breaks.
“That,” he says, “is a dangerous thing to give someone like me.”
You shrug. “You didn’t have to protect me.”
He steps closer. “I did.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The first person to realize this is a problem is Seonghwa.
Seonghwa notices everything.
He notices how Hongjoong slows his stride when you’re walking beside him.
How he no longer takes calls in the same room as you.
How the hoodie incident resulted in that hoodie never being worn by anyone else again.
He notices how you’ve stopped asking when you can leave.
And how Hongjoong has stopped pretending that’s an option.
One morning, Seonghwa approaches him.
“You’re compromised.”
Hongjoong doesn’t look up from his laptop. “I’m efficient.”
“You’re attached.”
Hongjoong pauses. “…I’m cautious.”
Seonghwa crosses his arms. “You’ve doubled security rotations because someone looked at them wrong.”
“He was suspicious.”
“He was a barista.”
“Well, he spelled my name wrong.”
Seonghwa sighs. “Boss.”
Hongjoong finally looks up.
“She is under my protection,” he says firmly. “End of discussion.”
That’s when Seonghwa realizes:
This isn't strategy.
It’s fear.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You are not stupid.
You notice the whispers.
The tension.
The way conversations stop when you enter rooms.
You corner Hongjoong in the kitchen at midnight, arms crossed, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands.
“Am I a liability.”
He stiffens. “No.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
He doesn’t answer.
You laugh softly, but it hurts. “I didn’t ask to be here.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like glass.”
He steps closer. “I can’t.”
You look up at him. “Why?”
Because I can’t lose you, his mind screams.
Because you made yourself at home in my life and I didn’t notice until it was too late. Because you’re the first person who’s ever looked at me without fear or expectation.
Instead, he says nothing.
You step back.
“…Okay.”
And for the first time since you arrived, you walk away from him.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
It happens two nights later.
A hit goes wrong.
Someone talks.
Your name surfaces again.
This time, they come closer.
Too close.
You hear shouting. Glass breaking. The sound of violence you’ve been pretending isn’t real.
You’re shaking when Hongjoong finds you.
Blood on his sleeve. Eyes wild.
“You’re leaving,” he says.
“What?”
“Tonight. I’ll set you up somewhere safe. New phone. New identity if you want it.”
Your voice cracks. “You’re sending me away.”
“I’m protecting you.”
“No,” you snap. “You’re deciding for me.”
He grabs your shoulders, desperation bleeding through his control. “You don’t understand—”
“Then explain it to me!”
The silence is unbearable.
The truth presses against his ribs until it hurts.
“…Because if they take you,” he says hoarsely, “I won’t survive it.”
You stare at him.
“Oh.”
You step closer. Slowly. Carefully.
“Hongjoong,” you say, softly. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He laughs bitterly. “You should be.”
“Maybe,” you admit. “But I still choose you.”
His breath stutters.
He leans in—
The alarms blare.
Wooyoung’s voice echoes through the halls: “BOSS. WE HAVE A SITUATION.”
Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut.
Of course.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
Chaos is loud.
Not cinematic loud—real loud. Shouting overlapping commands. Footsteps pounding.
The sharp crack of gunfire that makes your stomach drop even though you knew, abstractly, that this world ran on it.
You’re shoved into a safe room.
Steel door. No windows. One chair.
“Stay here,” Seonghwa says, gripping your shoulders. “Do not open this door for anyone except us.”
You nod. “I know.”
The door slams shut.
The silence afterward is worse.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
You sit for exactly forty-three seconds.
Then you stand up.
Because you are scared, yes—but you are also furious.
You didn’t survive this long, didn’t carve yourself into their lives, didn’t learn the rhythms of this house just to be treated like an object to be moved.
You remember the layout.
You remember the spare hallway.
You remember where Hongjoong keeps the emergency override.
You shouldn’t.
But you do.
The door opens.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
Hongjoong is issuing orders when he sees you.
Alive. Out of the safe room. Eyes blazing.
Something inside him snaps clean in half.
“What are you doing,” he roars, crossing the distance in seconds. “I told you to—”
“You don’t get to send me away,” you shout back, voice shaking but unbroken. “You don’t get to decide my life for me.”
Bullets ricochet in the distance.
The crew freezes, watching the most terrifying sight they have ever witnessed: Their boss being yelled at.
“I stayed,” you continue, chest heaving, “because I wanted to. Because I trust you. Because I—”
Your voice breaks.
“—because I love you, you idiot.”
The world stops.
Hongjoong stares at you like he’s been shot somewhere vital.
“You… what?”
“I kidnapped you once,” you say breathlessly. “I can do it again.”
Wooyoung whispers, “Holy shit.”
Hongjoong moves.
Not toward the enemy.
Toward you.
He cups your face with blood-streaked hands, forehead pressed to yours.
“I will end this,” he says softly. “And then we are talking.”
You nod. “Deal.”
He turns.
The fight ends fast after that.
No mercy. No hesitation. Just a man who has decided there will be no loose ends left in a world that dares to touch what’s his.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The house is quiet again.
You sit on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, Hongjoong’s hoodie wrapped tight around you.
He kneels in front of you.
“I should have let you choose,” he says. “I was afraid.”
You smile weakly. “Yeah. Me too.”
He exhales. “Stay.”
It’s not an order.
It’s a question.
You lean forward and kiss him.
Slow. Certain. Real.
“I already did.”
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
In the underworld, the story spreads.
How Kim Hongjoong, feared and ruthless, was once kidnapped.
How he let the culprit live.
How she ended up not leaving his side again.
When someone asks him why, he just smiles and says, “She took me by surprise.”
And if you ever tease him—years later, safe and loved—he’ll sigh and mutter,
“You know, technically, you committed multiple felonies.”
