#scoups comedy

Local law enforcement has been trying to get their mitts on him since before he even started the gang, but Seungcheol is smart, he's always made sure to keep his hands squeaky clean.

Which is why, when you heard the news come through on your police scanner that he's been spotted with some real nasty fuckers and this is the chance to get him cuffed, you wanted to get there asap to witness and join the scene.

Who wouldn't want to have the pleasure of slapping some cuffs on Choi Seungcheol and shoving him around a little, after all?

“What did you get him for?” you ask as you approach the scene with nothing but confidence, thumbs hooked into your belt casually.

Seungcheol glances over at you, and his jaw tightens with how hard he clenches his teeth as he takes you in from head to toe, dressed in uniform so crisp it's like you've just pulled it on. You have. He doesn't look impressed.

“Probable cause,” the young, over-eager cop who is getting ready to handcuff Seungcheol informs, sounding almost proud, while his partner keeps his gun pointed firmly at Seungcheol's head.

Seungcheol isn't stupid, reckless at times, yeah, but not stupid. He's been known to get pretty injured, and take some big risks with his own body in order to get what he wants, but even he wouldn't risk making a move in front of a trigger-happy rookie-cop.

“Oh, you fucking idiots,” you laugh, walking over to snatch the cuffs into your own hold.

“What the fuck?” the younger cop baulks, dumbstruck. “Who the fuck are you to just–”

“You really think you're going to get brownie points with the captain by bringing him Choi Seungcheol with no solid fucking cause? You think you can just put the guy in cuffs and the rest will follow? You're fucking stupid, kid.”

“But we caught him.”

“Yeah, and you know what his legal team is like? You're fucking lucky I turned up.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm willing to take him off your hands and deal with it myself. I've had my eye on Choi for fucking years, boys; I've got quite the file on him. What have you got?”

Admittedly, you take a hell of a lot of joy in grabbing Seungcheol's right forearm to force it down and around to his lower back, where you can secure the cuff around his wrist. He grunts at the unexpected force yet doesn't fight you, just clenches his jaw tighter.

“That's a good boy,” you whisper into his ear, while the two cops exchange lost, almost torn expressions as they attempt to silently communicate with one another about what to do.

Clearly, they don't want to just hand the man over to you, but you're right; they don't have shit on Seungcheol, and it would only cause them a lot of hassle to arrest him. He's too smart to talk, even in holding, and would just stare darkly at them, not moving a muscle until he's released. It’s happened before, once, over a year ago, and his legal team tore apart the station so thoroughly that the cops who arrested him had to resign and get minimum wage jobs, despite being the best the precinct had to offer.

Once you've got Seungcheol securely in the cuffs, you grab his bicep and appreciatively squeeze it as you tug on him to signal him to get up. You have to bite back your pleased grin as the powerful man silently obeys your order and gets to his feet. Though he does glare at you over his shoulder. It just makes it all that much sweeter.

“You boys better get back to your patrol before you get demoted,” you warn, shoving Seungcheol towards your car. He stumbles a little and glares at you again, but you ignore it to reach past him and open the back door.

Seungcheol swears and mutters under his breath when you roughly push his head down to urge him into the back of the car. He almost falls flat on his face onto the cheap imitation-leather seats. You shut the door before his colourful language cussing you out spills out any further to reach the cops and they can try to drag this out further. That’s the last thing you need right now.

“What?” you ask the two young men upon facing them again once you’ve closed the door and turned away from the car; they’re still watching you dumbly. “I know; my ass looks great in these.” You smirk smugly to yourself and smack your own ass, making both men jump at the loud, sudden sound.

“Yeah,” the younger agrees mindlessly, eyes now glued to your ass as you open the driver's door.

“Idiot,” his partner hisses, backhanding him. “Don't fucking agree, now she's gonna report you for sexual harassment!”

“She started it!”

While the pair are arguing, you take the chance to climb into your car and drive off with a pleased little cackle at causing the most chaos you can with so little to work with. It’s a point of pride for you.

At the end of the street, Seungcheol kicks the back of your seat. You don't need to look at him to know he's glaring at you; you can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your face. You love it.

“Now, now, Mr. Choi, please respect my car.” He kicks the seat again, making you snicker. “So ungrateful; I just saved you from being locked in an interrogation room for 24 hours. You'd think you'd be at least a little appreciative.”

“Like fuck am I,” he grunts and shuffles closer to the crisscross of bars separating the two halves of the car. “Didn't have to be so fucking rough, you bitch.” You lift your eyes to the rearview mirror to meet his gaze and grin smugly at him, before returning your gaze to the road in front of you. “Sick fuck; you get off on it, don't you?”

“Damn right,” you confirm shamelessly, with an almost twisted smirk. “Big boss man on his knees for ickle ol' me. Gets me all warm and tingly, Cheolie.”

“How many times have I got to tell you not to fucking call me that?” He's too close to the front seats to kick them again, but he does knee the back of yours where his legs are spread as wide as possible in his pale, ripped jeans to allow him so close.

Fuck, you wish you can see his thighs right now. You quickly look over at him to test your range of sight, but the fucking seats are in the way. Dammit.

You sigh and turn back to the road forlornly. “Well, maybe if you ever punish me like you claim you will, yet never stick to, I might learn my lesson.”

“You'd fucking like it,” he grumbles. You just grin. Yeah, you definitely would. “Pull over and uncuff me.”

“Nope.”

“I'm warning you, little one.”

“Pretty sure I'm the one in charge here,” you chirp, unaffected by his low, warning tone. Though a second later, you're choking on a laugh when his body jerks forward due to you suddenly breaking to join the queue of traffic at a red light. Seungcheol's forehead slams into the grate, making him swear harshly. “Oops,” you offer with false innocence and a big grin.

“You fucking–” he starts harshly, only to cut off when you pull away rapidly at the green light, sending him toppling back in the seats and cutting off with a surprised sound. You don't stop yourself from laughing this time.

“Now, here's what's gonna happen, Cheolie,” you declare when you turn around in your seat to look at where the big gang boss is sitting quietly in the back seat, hands still cuffed behind him between his thick body and the backrest. His thick legs spread with his slouched position.

Man, he's so fucking thick; you know it's true all over his body. You've conveniently walked in on him fucking enough people to know that the man's blessed with a diabolically thick cock too.

Not forgetting the memorable time that he didn't notice your very obvious spy camera in his bedroom for a full two months. For two glorious months you got to watch him wrap a hand around his cock and cum over his chest in live action; automatically recorded for your rewatch pleasure.

You've never been gladder that he has a strict policy of not taking anyone to his home to fuck; you quite enjoyed his solo sessions and still watch them regularly.

In fact, you had been watching one while spread over your own bed when the scanner had caught your attention. You didn't even have the chance to clean up; your thighs are still sticky. But that could also just be from having Seungcheol in handcuffs. It really does a lot for your endless arousal where Choi Seungcheol is involved.

“You happened to interrupt my favourite hobby by almost getting arrested and making me come to your rescue.”

“If you say you were watching those fucking videos again–” he starts.

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't increase your security and make it harder for me to put up new cameras.” You can’t help but pout a little; disappointed and heartbroken at your inability to get new spank-bank material. At least currently. You’re determined where stalking Seungcheol is involved and have already been devising plans.

“I did that so that I don't have your perverted ass watching me in my private spaces!” he barks. “I swear, one day, I'm going to actually choke you.”

“Do it.” The sparkle in your eyes makes Seungcheol groan in frustration and tip his head back, eyes closing as he prays to a god that he doesn't believe in for the strength to handle you and your endless depravities. “Question.”

“What?” He sighs and lifts his head to look at you resignedly. After knowing you for so many years, he knows it's just easier to play along, unless he wants to deal with you badgering him for the rest of the day.

“Would you use your hands to choke me?”

“What else?”

“Your thighs–”

“Shut up,” he groans and pushes himself further upright. “Can you go a single day without making a remark about my thighs?”

You don’t hesitate to respond shamelessly “No. Can you crush my head between them like you did that watermelon?”

“I should've never done that. I thought playing along would make you shut the fuck up asking, but no, you're even worse.”

“I appreciate art, and those thighs, Choi Seungcheol, are pure fucking art.”

“We have very different definitions of art,” he deadpans.

“Yes, I know.” You roll your eyes. “You like silicone and spray tan.”

“Do I?” He raises an amused eyebrow at you when you look at him suspiciously.

“Every woman I've seen you fuck are more silicone than my dildo collection.”

“Not gonna comment on the collection,” he mutters, looking more like he's convincing himself that his curiosity about how extensive your collection may be is not worth actually engaging you in a discussion about your sex life. Which, he knows, heavily involves you masturbating to those videos of him masturbating.

“Do you want to see?” you offer brightly. “I have one that I think could compare to your cock.” Your gaze drops down to his crotch where there's an obvious bulge, which you know is him flaccid. “Maybe...” You suck on your bottom lip thoughtfully as your mind runs wild with memories of the sight of his cock peeking through his fist as he chased his high. Or wrapped in rubber as he bent another woman with fake tits over his desk, or face first against a too-rough wall, to take what he wants.

You really don't know how he can claim to not have a type when you truly have only seen him actually having sex with one type of woman. You've seen him seduce and hit on a wide range of people— not even just women—, but that's always to get his way, and he doesn't fuck them, even if he does sometimes make out with them just to win them over.

“Stop thinking about my cock,” Seungcheol deadpans, snapping you back to reality, and causing you to look up at him, though your gaze darts back down upon realising there's a change in the bulge in your periphery vision. “Don't–”

“Are you getting hard?!” you gasp, shuffling onto your knees excitedly and gripping the grate.

“No.”

“Liar.” You grin, eyes sparkling.

Seungcheol knows he's done for now. For years you've been trying to fuck him, and now, now he's actually lost his usual firm grip on his own libido and let you see that he's not actually turned off by you in any way.

“So, what's going to happen, Cheolie–” He swears at you, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course, you ignore the interruption. “Seeing as you ruined my me-time, I'm going to come back there–”

“And uncuff me.”

“No, silly boy,” you giggle. “And ride your giant cock.”

Seungcheol curses under his breath and swallows before lifting his head to look at you.

For a few moments, you both just stare at each other. You, in wait for permission— because although you do a lot of questionable shit, you'd never physically force yourself on anyone—; and Seungcheol clearly in thought.

“Get back here,” he decides in a low, rough tone that makes your lower stomach twist and squeeze with genuine aroused excitement.

“Fuck yeah,” you exhale, climbing out of the car, where minutes ago you parked in one of the many empty warehouses belonging to Seungcheol’s gang.

Seungcheol watches through the window as you make short work of kicking off your shoes and removing your trousers and panties. He tries to look at you properly, but that stupid fucking police uniform shirt you're wearing hangs to the top of your thighs and makes it so that he can't see shit. Not even once you've got the back door open and crawl into the backseat.

“You got a condom?” he asks. He lets out a harsh exhale when you start to palm at his cock without warning.

“Nope.” You shrug carelessly and use your free hand to open his belt, before working on the button and zipper of his jeans. “Got a problem with that?”

“Fucking you raw?” You hum in confirmation and reluctantly let go of his cock so that you can yank down his jeans and boxers. Seungcheol helpfully lifts his hips off the seat, leaning back onto his shoulders against the backrest for balance to let you get the clothing down to his knees and reveal his rapidly hardening cock to your greedy gaze. “You may be fucking psychotic at the best of the times, and weirdly fucking obsessed with me–”

“Hey,” you complain, pouting at him offendedly.

“Are you really pouting at me for calling you psychotic?” he deadpans in disbelief. He's called you worse before, much worse, and you usually just giggle and act like he's given you a giant compliment.

“What? No,” you scoff and move over to straddle his thighs. “It's you saying weirdly obsessed as if you're not the single hottest person I've ever met. How dare you?”

Seungcheol licks his lips and looks down to watch what he thought was you making a move to ride his cock like you said you would. But no, you adjust your position at the last second and sit directly on his left thigh.

“You're so fucking wet,” he comments, voice thick with arousal and awe. His mouth drops open a little when you drag your slick pussy over his thigh and smear wetness over bare skin. “Fuck.”

“This is what you do to me, Cheolie,” you complain, and wrap your hand around his cock roughly. He groans and tips his head forward, thunking his forehead on your shoulder as you jerk him in time with the drag of your pussy up and down his thigh; he tenses it to make his muscles bulge and give you something firmer to grind your clit down on. It feels better than you could’ve imagined, and you’ve fantasised about riding Seungcheol’s beefy thighs more times than you can count.

“You're so fucking shameless,” he grunts after a moment of just watching your movements. You're torturing him with the too-rough, slow pull of your palm against his cock, never close enough to the top to catch any of the precum that's starting to dribble down the side.

“For you, not anyone else.”

“You're going to give me a giant head.”

“It'll match your cock.”

Seungcheol huffs a laugh and lifts his head to look at you. “You gonna sit on it then?”

“I'd love to, but you didn't actually say you're okay with not using a condom. I know you always do with those women.”

“You're not them,” it's perhaps the softest fucking thing Seungcheol has ever said to you. Your movements slow to a stop as you stare at him in surprise. “I trust you with every fucking aspect of the gang; trust you to back me up more than I do anyone else. You think I'd put my life in your hands and not the health of my dick?” He scoffs. “I trust you to not do this if you have anything you could pass on, and I know I sure as fuck don't.”

“And what if you knock me up?” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows at you bewilderedly, barely even noticing that you've stopped grinding on his thigh and have moved over to hover over his cock. “What?”

Seungcheol opens his mouth to respond but you decide to drop down onto his cock, letting his thick length split you open harshly as you both moan at the sudden friction. “Fuck!” he exclaims, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. “You–you fucking idiot!” He lifts his head to look at you. “You didn't even take it slow! You could get fucking hurt!”

“Good, I like it.” You smirk, proud of yourself for getting the usually so put-together man so worked up. There's something beautifully wild in his dark eyes, and a pretty pink smeared over his cheeks.

You really wish you hadn’t left your phone in your trousers; you’d love to take a photo of him right now. You’d put it as your lock screen, and he’d probably threaten to beat your ass if you don’t remove it, yet he never follows through with his threats to you. A bit of spanking surely wouldn’t be undesirable, not if it’s Seungcheol’s firm hand landing on your ass.

“You're fucking crazy.”

“Yep.” You grin, and grind down against him, breath catching as his cock presses against multiple sensitive spots inside you that has you repeating the swirl of your hips again, and again, and again.

“Fu–fuck, just ride me, shit,” he groans, trying to urge you to bounce by thrusting his hips up against you.

“Don't you like this?” You pout at him, faux-offended, and keep at your grinding. You know he likes it, it's obvious by the tightness of his expression. The pleasure is clear in his furrowed brows and tense jaw, in his shoulders pressed back against the seat, and biceps bulging as he tries to free himself from the cuffs.

You really hope he doesn't break them; you really fucking like him like this. Then again, the thought of Seungcheol using his stupidly beefy arms to break free from his binds so that he can grab your hips and force you to take the pummelling of his giant dick against your pussy walls, well, that's a real fucking nice thought.

It makes you clench down on him, and he moans, head tipping back and showing you the unblemished expanse of his throat. You wonder if he'd let you bite him.

“Can I bite you?” you ask, falling still.

“What the fuck?” He looks at you as if you're insane. Which, not exactly a new expression on the man when he's faced with you. But this time he looks utterly offended too.

“Is that a no?” You pout.

“I don't give a fuck, just keep going!” he demands, looking crazed.

“Can I kiss you too?”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and instead of verbally responding, he tilts forward to crash his lips to yours, desperation urging him to kiss you in such a filthy way that your pussy throbs. “Bounce,” he growls against your lips, before letting out a string of almost whispered praise when you obey and start to lift and drop yourself, finally riding his cock like both of you have been wanting for, admittedly, longer than he's been in cuffs.

To your surprise, Seungcheol keeps kissing you and chases your lips every time you lean back or turn your head for breath, or just because you think he probably wants to stop and focus on your pussy dragging up and down his cock, soaking him with every wet smack of your thighs against his.

“Che–Cheol,” you pant out, knotting your fingers in his hair to force him back and allow you to actually breathe. He moans deeply, and his eyes roll back.

Very interesting reaction indeed.

You never took Seungcheol to like having his hair pulled; but the filthy moans he lets out every time you experimentally tighten or yank on the strands now you've got the idea in your head, tells you that the man really fucking likes it. Not even mentioning how he fucks up into you harder every time too.

“Good boy,” you compliment breathlessly, looking down at his cock sliding into you as you pretty much just hover over him now; more interested in finding out what makes him tick and turns him on than actually riding him. Not that you need to when he's doing a good enough job fucking you, even with his arms restrained.

You just know he'd ruin you if he had full use of his body. He'd ruin you, and you'd thank him for it and ask to repeat it every fucking day. He could break your hips and you'd thank him.

“Oh, fuck, I–I'm gonna cum,” he warns, making your eyes widen in alarm.

“No!”

Seungcheol opens his eyes to look at you with equally as wide eyes yet doesn't stop fucking into you. “The fuck you mean no?”

“You can't cum yet! I'm not done!”

“I'm gonna–”

“No!”

“Fuck.” His eyes roll back, and he lets out a string of porn-worthy moans as he jerks up into you a few times harshly while filling you with cum.

You can only gawp at him in disbelief, one hand still in his hair and the other braced on his heaving chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” you exclaim, slapping his chest as he slouches against the seat while trying to catch his breath back. “You useless man!” You pinch his nipple where it's pressing against his t-shirt, making him yelp and shoot his eyes open to look at you.

“What the fuck?!”

“What kind of a gang boss are you, huh?” you berate, climbing off him, and wincing at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of you, trailing cum with it. You don't even care that it's getting all over him and the seats as you move. “To bust in minutes; you that pussy whipped, Choi Seungcheol?” you tut and shove him down on the seats.

“Ow, you fucking–” he cuts off, awkwardly wriggling to get on his back instead of laying painfully on his right shoulder. “I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as these cuffs are off, bitch,” he warns, watching you with dark eyes, half warning, half aroused, as you clamber over his body.

“Ooh, call me more names, my likey.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as you plant your knees either side of his face.

It visibly takes everything in Seungcheol to keep his eyes on your face and not look at your pussy where it’s inches from his face and dripping cum down your slick inner thighs. “You're clinically fucking insane, aren't you?”

“I work for you; comes with the job,” you coo, leaning over to plant your left hand on the door above his head to get your balance while your right hand knots into his hair, making him let out a groan that travels through your body as your pussy meets his parted lips. “Now, make me cum like a good boy, Cheolie.”

To your utter delight, the words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol's tongue is dragging through your folds, uncaring that he's swallowing down his own cum as he enthusiastically starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Honestly, you've never seen Seungcheol do this. You've never known if he's the type of man to eat pussy and if so, if he does it as a means to get his dick wet or because he actually enjoys it. But now? Now you fucking know.

Seungcheol is making more noise than you are as he greedily laps and sucks at your pussy, alternating between thrusting his tongue into your hole and suckling on your clit. You swear, the man is determined to suck your soul out through your clit. He's not gentle about it at all; but you can't lie, you really fucking enjoy the rough, messy actions.

“T–that's it,” you encourage when his tongue is back inside of you as deep as he can get it to lick at your inner walls greedily, nose grinding against your clit with every movement of his head, and his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

His face is buried so deep between your thighs that you're positive he can't breathe, but even when you loosen your hold on his hair and stop moving your hips against his face to let him have space, he dives in even deeper somehow.

The pure unfiltered enthusiasm he devours your pussy with sends you hurtling to a powerful orgasm that takes you a bit by surprise when he gets a little too into it and his teeth drag over your skin. You didn't know you like that, but now you certainly do as you shudder and gasp over him. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you let the vibrations of his groans and moans help ride you through your climax as you smother him in your pussy.

Your legs feel like jelly when you shakily clamber off his face and drop to sit on his still exposed thighs. His cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again. It's very distracting, but you're both breathing too hard and trying to remember how to get air into your lungs to even consider going for round two. Well, mostly.

“Please tell me you have a key for these,” Seungcheol says once he's caught his breath a few minutes later, still laid on his back across the seats with his eyes closed.

“No.” You snigger at the pissed off look he gives you once he lifts his head enough to look at you. “Since when have I needed keys to open locks?”

“Good point.” He drops back down, though immediately lifts his head again when you dance your fingers teasingly over his semi-erect dick. “Don't.”

“Why not?” You pout and wrap your hand around his cock, thumbing at the head a little harshly, but he clearly likes it, judging by the way he gets harder in your hold and hisses, hips pushing up automatically to encourage you.

“Because I'll fucking dislocate my shoulders,” he points out, trying to roll his shoulders but not really doing a good job thanks to his forced position. “And I can't hold you down and fuck you if my arms don't fucking work, can I?”

“You actually want to do that?”

“Always have.” He shrugs, then slumps in relief when you let go of him and shuffle back.

“No, you've never wanted to fuck me.” You frown confusedly at him as he sits up with a few little grunts from the effort and release of pressure against his arms from being laid on them.

“I've always wanted to fuck your insane ass, which I guess makes me insane too. I know you're into some fucked up shit; I've seen the porn you watch.”

“Don't kink shame me.”

“Don't fucking use my computer to watch porn then!”

“But your office chair is big enough that I can spread my legs comfortably on to touch myself.”

“You've masturbated in my office chair?” he deadpans, looking unimpressed. Yet, when you nod in confirmation, you notice the flicker of arousal in his gaze. “Great, now I'm going to be thinking about that when I'm supposed to be working.”

“You can always call me, and I'll happily sit under your desk with your cock in my mouth; keep it warm and ready to sit on when you're done working.”

“This is why I never fucking let you know.” He shuffles towards the still open door, making you back out until you're standing on still slightly trembling legs. “Knew I'd never be able to stop once I had you.” Seungcheol gets out of the car and turns his back to you. “Get these off me so I can bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk.”

“Don't need to tell me twice.” You quickly grab your lock-picking set from your trouser pocket before kneeling down behind Seungcheol to unpick the cuffs.

It takes you longer than it should to pick the lock, purely because you're very distracted by his bare, plump ass right in front of your face. As soon as he moves his just freed hands to roll his shoulders and rub his red-raw wrists, you lean forward and bite his asscheek.

“What the fuck?!” he shrieks, jolting away and turning to face you with wide eyes and red cheeks. “Did you just bite my ass?”

“Yes,” your confirmation is utterly shameless, as you stare up at him from where you’re still on your knees.

Seungcheol stares back at you for a moment, before sliding his hand into your hair and tugging you forward, smirking as your mouth opens wide to accept his cock without question or complaint.

“Good girl,” he breathes out as you immediately start to suck and lick at him, humming and making appreciative noises at finally having his cock in your mouth. It's only taken five years.

Though Seungcheol doesn't let you enjoy him as thoroughly as you'd like. As soon as his tip touches your throat from your attempt to start deepthroating him, he pulls you off and yanks you up to your feet.

You're not given time to even complain or whine or beg for his cock back before he's got you with your hands on the roof of the car, and chest bowing into the open doorway so that he can grind his cock against your still sopping wet pussy.

“You never explained the knocked-up comment,” he informs as he crowds up against your back, one big hand holding your wrists by the edge of the roof and the other gripping your hip tight.

“What?”

“You said about me getting you knocked up.”

“And?”

“We both got done, on the same fucking day, remember? We’re medically infertile.” He nips at your earlobe a little harshly, and grins smugly when your breath catches and you press back against his cock.

“Never heard of a breeding kink, Cheolie?”

“Huh, you're into that?”

“I'm into anything if it's you.”

He pauses his movements, lips parted against your ear for a few seconds, before he suddenly lets go of your hip and pulls his own backwards so that he can grab his cock and lead it to your entrance. He feeds it into you just far enough that he can let go and take your hip back into his hold before he thrusts forward, burying his cock into you in one quick, hard thrust. It jolts you forward and makes you moan loudly.

“Gonna fill you up every fucking day, baby,” he promises, sounding far more affected than he did moments ago. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it sticks. Gonna breed you so fucking good, yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, fuck me full, Cheolie,” you agree, nodding madly, and arching your back to push back against him, while widening your stance to get him deeper— even if it means you have to push up onto your tiptoes to account for the height difference.

“That's my good fucking girl,” he approves, pushing your shirt up and holding it at your waist to give him full view of your ass as he begins to fuck into you harshly.

Honestly, you have no idea if you're truly alone in the warehouse; you know that various gang members use the warehouses for meets and their own trysts, but you do not give a single flying fuck.

You moan loud and shameless as Seungcheol fucks all thoughts from your head. He clearly doesn't care if anyone hears either; he moans and grunts without care, growling dirty words at you— which you can barely babble a response to due to the quickly growing pleasure in your body.

“Never letting anyone touch this pussy again,” he declares in amongst his moans and panting, not slowing down once in his determination to ruin you. “You’re mine, understand?”

You nod rapidly but can’t answer as that ball of pleasure in your belly clenches so tightly at his possessive words. As soon as his palm comes down on your ass with the intention of prompting you to verbally respond, that ball bursts; sending pleasure through your whole body, and making your consistent moans turn higher in pitch, babbling his name repeatedly as your pussy convulses around his still-pistoning cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fucking into you a few more times before he slows to a gradual stop. You can feel that he’s still hard within you and it makes you whine a little, pushing your hips back against him to try and get him back to work. “You’re shaking,” he points out, pulling out and carefully helping you down onto flat feet, taking some pressure off of your thighs. You melt back against him when he winds his arms around your waist supportively and kisses your head.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes as you catch your breath back, and your body stops shaking like a fucking leaf.

“You okay?” he asks softly, lips trailing over your cheek and temple. It’s much too tender. You like it, yeah, but you hadn’t been prepared for the care he’s giving you.

He’s always cussed at you and called you names while looking at you with disturbed expressions. You’ve never cared about that; the names and harsh words have truly never bothered you, they amuse you more than anything. Seungcheol has never actually hurt you; even when he’s slapped you away from him or thrown items at you, he’s always purposely near-missed you. His aim is too good to unintentionally miss you all the time.

But this; the fingers trailing over you mindlessly, the lips brushing against your skin, and the words spoken in a fond voice you’ve never even fucking heard the man use, well, that’s a lot to take in.

“No,” you reply.

“Oh, what can I do? Did I hurt–”

“You can go back to fucking me.”

“You’re still shaking.”

“That’s because you were doing a good job! Gold star, Seungcheol!”

“What happened to Cheolie?”

“You don’t even fucking like it!” You groan and wriggle out of his arms with every intention of pushing him away and getting your clothes back on, but he pulls you right back in, chest to chest, and looks at you so devastatingly fucking adoringly that your breath catches in your throat in a giant ball of what the fuck Choi Seungcheol.

“I like it,” he murmurs. “I like it because it’s you. I just…couldn’t let you know that.”

“And now you can? You fucked me and now suddenly everything changes?”

“You wanted things to be the same?” He frowns, hurt trickling onto his expression as his arms fall away from you.

“I thought it was just sex,” you admit.

“Right,” he scoffs, yanking his boxers and jeans up as he steps away from you, dick sadly deflated despite being hard and pressed against your ass a minute ago. “See, this is why I never fucking wanted this!” he exclaims, turning angry now as he reaches down to grab your panties and trousers to toss at you harshly. You wince when the police-issue gun and holster smack into your ribs.

Seungcheol pauses for a split-second, noticing that he hurt you, but then he carries on, throwing your boots at you next. You don’t even bother trying to catch them and let them collide painfully with your thighs then topple down, the hard edges of the soles sending pain through the tops of your feet.

“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” he barks, stalking over to yank the items from your hands and get to his knees to roughly force your feet into the trousers and panties at once.

“Seungcheol–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. For the first time, you listen to him.

A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of the car as Seungcheol drives recklessly through the back streets. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to slow down because you both would get arrested, and you don’t think even his lawyers could talk him out of getting locked up for driving a fake police car— with fake licence plates, and a fake cop in the passenger seat— over the speed limits, without either of you wearing seat belts.

He drives to a side street behind his apartment building, and doesn’t even put the car in park, just stops it and gets out, slamming the door behind him before storming off. You take it for the harsh dismissal it is and climb over the centre console to get into the driver’s seat to head off.

For the first time in years, you don’t see Seungcheol for days. You don’t think it’s wise to test him right now. You still don’t think he’d hurt you, but you think your presence would hurt him, and you don’t want that.

Despite what Seungcheol obviously thinks— and with good reason too because you didn’t say anything otherwise—, you do care about the man. A hell of a fucking lot.

It wasn’t instant; there wasn’t a moment where your eyes fatefully locked across the table on that set-up blind date between you and you just knew you were destined to live happily ever after together, that stuff is all bullshit anyway. You met like any other pair on a blind date with nothing spectacularly big and romantic about it. Really, the date was really both of your little groups of criminals and deviants trying to get information on the other group. You had both easily clocked one another, and although it could’ve gone badly, Seungcheol had asked you to team up on a job, and his gang was born shortly after.

Your connection was about work from day one; but spending time with the man— even when he told you to fuck off when you would jokingly hit on him—, it kind of really gave you a giant fucking weak spot in the shape of his stupid, charming face.

The relentless flirting and sexual remarks, although they are all genuine, became your way to hide the truth of your feelings. Lean into lust to hide the love. It just seems that it worked too fucking well.

You had honestly forgotten that the flutter in your stomach when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s isn’t all lust; that it isn’t just horny little demons running rampant and trying to tell you to get his cock in you, but butterflies too. Excited, pretty little butterflies flapping their wings and trying to lift you up into the clouds to where you and Seungcheol can skip merrily through the meadows together hand in hand like that scene in Shrek before the villagers chased the ogres down with pitchforks.

But that isn’t realistic. You can’t skip hand in hand through a meadow, mostly because Seungcheol has damaged his knees from throwing himself around too much to skip anywhere— though it would be funny to watch his hobbling attempt.

Well, at least up until a few days ago you thought it wasn’t realistic. You didn’t think Seungcheol has anything but a respect for you as one of his gang members, and a fucking good one too. He often turns to you to get shit done when others have failed. Or if it’s too risky, too important to send others in, you’re the one he goes to. You thought that’s all your relationship equates to.

But it seems, you haven’t paid enough attention to Seungcheol to have missed the man apparently having feelings for you.

It’s now obvious to you that he holds some kind of candle for you, but you’re not naive or hopeless enough to assume his tender touches— which had turned to hurt then anger— to be love. Choi Seungcheol likes you. Romantically.

Sexually too. That part was great, top marks. Gold star indeed. If that’s all it had been, you’re pretty sure you’d have been spread over his desk every day since; or tucked under it to cockwarm him with your mouth just like you offered. That would’ve been great.

But nope, feelings. And not the touching each other up kind of ones.

All in all, it’s a giant fucking shitshow, and not in the way you purposely orchestrate for your own twisted amusement. You hope things will fix themselves shortly, because you don’t know how much more of this you can handle.

But honestly, you really don’t think they will.

“So,” Minghao starts as he invites himself to join you in the car you’ve borrowed for the fun of it. You look at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth, and wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do to piss Seungcheol off so much?”

“Me?” you garble around the food still hanging out of your mouth and point at your own chest. The look the man gives you is utterly disgusted, and it makes you snigger before you actually chew and swallow your food. “Why do you assume I did something to piss him off?”

“Maybe the fact you haven’t been around in a week and every time I’ve suggested he asks for your help like we need, he pretends to have never heard of you while breaking yet another fucking pen in his fist.”

“Sounds like you need to stop getting cheap pens,” you mutter, reaching for your drink in the cup holder, but he takes it.

You watch as Minghao noisily slurps up the liquid through the straw, defiantly holding eye contact with you. But then he gags and quickly puts the cup in your awaiting hand so that he can turn, open the car door, and spit the drink out onto the parking lot of the restaurant you’ve parked in to enjoy your lunch.

“What the fuck is in that?!” he shrieks when he’s done sputtering, turning to look at you with wide eyes behind his wire-framed glasses.

“Coke.”

“That is not coke.”

“Both kinds. And mint schnapps.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Valid.” You nod and slurp at your unholy concoction.

It wasn’t even your choice; you accidentally dropped a badly sealed baggie of the white powder into your cup when you tipped the contents of the hip flask from the glovebox— where you also found the baggie of illegal drugs— into the cup. You had assumed it was whiskey or vodka or something normal, not fucking mint schnapps of all things. That’s what you get for tipping out the contents of a stolen hip flask from a stolen car into your drink without at least giving it a cursory sniff-test first.

Minghao watches you with something like fear on his features when you don’t even flinch at the truly disgusting flavour that coats your tongue. You’ve had worse things in your mouth, you can say that much.

Mostly thanks to Soonyoung’s own habit of shoving any food and drink into his mouth to consume like some kind of tastebud-less heathen. There’s probably a reason you’ve been friends for so long. One that doesn’t involve a blood pact you made as idiot children that you’re both too stubborn to turn your back on first.

“So, what did you do? Ask to put something questionable in his ass?” Minghao soldiers on as he steals the unopened chocolate bar from the dashboard to open and bite into, looking very relieved to have the haunting taste of your drink covered by the sweet on his tongue. “Ask him to put something questionable in your ass?”

“No,” you scoff, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Minghao pauses in his rapid chewing to watch you consideringly. He’s never seen you like this; like you have actual human emotions beside lust and maniacal joy at making others suffer in various ways borne of your chaotic ideas.

“It’s serious,” he realises in a mutter. You shrug and give up with your lunch, suddenly not hungry for it, and pass it over to him so that you can start the car up. “What happened?”

“What’s the job?” you ask as you drive out of the lot in a way that closes the car door he hadn’t fully closed. The slam of the door makes Minghao jolt, he had forgotten it was even open, and then he rolls his eyes a little at you not asking him to shut it before driving off.

“He’s dealing with it.”

“That’s stupid if you think I should be doing it.”

“Yeah, well, according to him, you don’t exist, so he’s the best chance.”

“If you wanted to send me in, that means it requires a delicate touch–”

“You set a warehouse on fire last month; that’s not a delicate touch,” he reminds in a deadpan tone. You’d think that after these years of knowing you, he’d be used to your habits and hobbies by now, but nope. Minghao never fails to look at you like he has no idea what kind of demonic entity you truly are under your meatsuit. It’s kind of a compliment, really.

“That wasn’t for a job, that was for fun, leave me alone.”

“You…whatever.” He waves a dismissive hand, batting the subject aside before you can divulge further information about your less than moral interests. Which says a lot coming from the second-in-command of such a notorious gang. “He can handle the job; it’s just a different direction than you’d take.”

“Has he gone in fists swinging?”

“No. He’s seducing someone for information.”

“Ah, dick swinging,” you mutter, feeling a sourness growing in your chest and rising up your throat. You’ve not felt this before when you’ve heard of Seungcheol seducing someone to get the job done.

You haven’t even felt it when you’ve literally walked in on him balls-deep in some woman bent over his desk. You always just stand there until he notices you, then annoy him by dragging out whatever it is you’ve turned up for. It’s all fun and games. This burning tickling your throat isn’t.

Jealousy is not something you’re personally familiar with, and you immediately decide you hate it.

“You know he doesn’t…” he trails off, expression twisting as he recalls something, based on his expression. “Well, usually he doesn’t fuck his marks, but–”

“What?!” you exclaim, slamming on the breaks, and looking at Minghao with crazed eyes.

Minghao yells, which only grows when a car audibly swerves behind to not rear-end you. “Fucking drive, you idiot!”

“He’s fucked the mark?” you ask, voice eerily level in a way that makes Minghao look at you and swallow thickly.

For the first time, Minghao is genuinely scared of you. He knows you’re an unhinged, unrelenting mess at the best of times; and in a way, you do always scare him, because he never knows what you’re going to do. You could easily hurt him or anyone, but you haven’t; you’re usually too busy making sexual remarks to Seungcheol. Or to someone about Seungcheol, loudly enough that the man himself can clearly hear.

And Minghao knows you’re a competent fighter, he’s seen proof of it, but he’s never seen you fight yourself. He’s never seen you look so serious and pissed before either.

The carnage he’s seen the aftereffects of; the destruction you’ve caused, yet you’ve always had a grin on your face afterwards as if you’ve just been to an amusement park and had the time of your life splattered with blood. He knows how much damage you can cause in a good mood. So Minghao is genuinely terrified of what hell you can create when you’re in a foul mood, and right now? He thinks you would burn the world down along with anyone who gets in your way.

“He–he hasn’t, but he said he will if he needs to.”

“Where is he?”

The apartment you let yourself into is familiar, and really not where you expected to end up when Minghao had given you his phone to let you use the app he and Seungcheol use to track each other. You hadn’t known about this app, and you can only assume Seungcheol had made sure you didn’t know so that you couldn’t use it to stalk him. Which…valid worry. You definitely would’ve stalked him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you demand as you step into the living room and find Seungcheol slouched on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the bottle in the other and balanced on his thick thigh.

“This is my home,” he points out. “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Where is she?” you ask, peering around before inviting yourself to walk through the apartment, slamming open doors to rooms as you go in search of the woman Seungcheol was seducing for information.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he retorts, following after you once he’s put the glass and bottle down on the coffee table. “Who?”

“The mark; Hao said you were planning to fuck her for information.”

“And you thought I’d bring her here?”

“Well how the fuck should I know?!” You turn to face him. “You don’t fuck your marks, Seungcheol! But you were going to, or have…” You eye him over; a black shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into black trousers that show off his thick thighs and plump ass. Trousers you’ve told him you hope he never stops wearing, and then he promptly did stop, to your disappointment. At least you thought he had.

“I didn’t,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets after they twitch at his sides.

“No?” You lift your gaze up to meet his eyes, or at least try to, but he’s pointedly looking at the wall beside your left shoulder. “Did you get what you needed without fucking her?”

“No,” he admits, and tenses his jaw a few times.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to fuck her! I thought I could do it, but I can’t.” He huffs and turns to storm back to the living room. Of course, you follow, and watch as he downs the contents of his glass before pouring out more.

“Why did you suddenly think you could when you’ve never wanted to fuck for a job? You said that to me before; that you don’t ever want to fuck for work.”

“Because…it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Obviously it does.” You walk over and take the glass from him after he’s swallowed down the contents again. “This isn’t you, Seungcheol. I’m the one who drinks at 1pm, not you.”

“Well, maybe I should be allowed to be the fucked-up asshole for once, huh?” He stares down at you darkly. “Why are you allowed to be a fuck up and I can’t?”

“Because you’re better than me, you always have been.” You pick up the bottle and turn to take it to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises as he follows you. “I don’t mean that. You’re not a fuck up.”

“I am. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it, Seungcheol, so–”

“Please stop calling me that,” he breathes out.

You finish putting the lid on the bottle and put it in the liquor cabinet before putting the dirty glass in the dishwasher, and then you turn to look at him while leaning back against the counter behind you with your arms crossed loosely over your chest.

He looks…sad. You hate it.

“That’s your name, that’s what everyone calls you. That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to call you for years.”

“And you never fucking listened. Can’t…can’t we go back to that?”

“I don’t know, can we?”

Seungcheol does nothing but look at you for what feels like more than enough time for him to come to a definite answer hours ago. But he just keeps looking at you with those giant sad fucking eyes, and his fingers gripping the edge of the island counter in front of him as if he needs to hold on to something and what he wants to hold isn’t in reach.

“I can try,” he offers. “Can you?”

“I’m not the one who has been denying the other’s existence.”

“You’re not the one who got their heart broken,” he retorts sharply before taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. A clear sign of trying to calm himself. “No, I can’t; I can’t do this,” he decides, opening his eyes to land them back on you. “You need to leave.”

“For how long?”

“This is my apartment–”

“That’s not what I meant,” you uncross your arms and walk the few steps to the island in front of you, on Seungcheol’s adjacent right and close enough that either of you could easily reach out and touch. Neither of you do. “I’ll leave your apartment; I won’t argue about leaving now. But I need to know if this is the end of everything, Seungcheol. The past five years of working together; does it end now?”

“Is that all you care about? The fucking gang? Not our relationship? But the fucking gang?”

“That is our relationship.” You give him a bewildered look. “Before last week there’s never been anything but the gang.”

“You’re serious,” he mutters in disbelief.

“Well, yeah.”

“Get out.”

“That doesn’t answer–”

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!” he snaps, poking his own head. “You got nothing going on up here past work, huh?”

You just stare at him, not sure how to respond, because admittedly, the things he’s been saying to you today have been hurting. Five years of insults and degrading names hasn’t once bothered you. But he’s never said hurtful things like this before.

“How Soonyoung has put up with you for so fucking long is beyond me.” He scoffs, and steps backwards away from you with a nasty expression on his face, eyes dark and cold in a way he has never looked at you. “He must be as fucking stupid as you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” you warn, your own expression turning hard in defence of your best friend. “Say whatever you want about me but do not say a bad word against him.”

“Why not? Hurt your feelings?” he taunts. “Didn’t know you have those. Sure fucking fooled me.”

“Of course I have feelings, you dick, some of us just know how to keep them to ourselves and not let them rule our mouths.”

“Well you’ve kept yours really fucking close, great fucking job there. Gold fucking star. You’ve kept to yourself so much nobody knows shit about how you feel. I thought I did, but obviously, I was fucking wrong.” He turns to walk off yet turns back around and stalks right back to lean his palms on the counter and stare intently at you. “Just tell me this, did I ever mean fucking anything to you? Did you ever even think of me as a friend? I thought you did, but you’ve dismissed this so fucking easily. You’re so fucking willing to walk away and only ask about the gang that I’m pretty sure I’ve been a naive fucking idiot this whole time.”

“Friends?” you mumble in surprise, because honestly, you’ve never thought of Seungcheol as your friend. You’ve never tried to name what he is to you, but you’re not sure you could if you tried.

Soonyoung is your friend, even Minghao you’d consider a friend. But Seungcheol? Perhaps, at one point, you could’ve thought of him in such a way, but now you’ve been pushing down your true feelings for him for so long that you don’t even know how to classify him. Friend doesn’t feel right.

“Yes, friends, you know, people you like being around, people you can talk to about stuff other than work, get a drink with and have fun with.”

“Have we ever done any of that?” you genuinely wonder quietly.

You watch as the realisation dawns on Seungcheol, and his anger melts into something pained. “No,” he admits quietly. “We haven’t.”

“Well, I guess there’s the answer,” you mumble, chest aching at what you know this means. That you and Seungcheol have never truly had a relationship of any kind outside of work. You’ve never realised that before; never before had to consider what that means. You wish you had, maybe then things now would be different.

“Right,” he huffs a humourless laugh as he backs up, eyes looking anywhere but you even as he turns. “Show yourself out and don’t…don’t come back.”

You can’t be certain, he talks too quietly and moves out of the kitchen and down the hall too quickly, but you think you catch the glint of tears on his cheeks.

Weeks pass as you go about your life. As you try to make a new life without Seungcheol or his gang playing such a pivotal part in it.

You listened to his wishes; you left and didn’t return. You deleted his number and told Minghao it’s probably wise if he tells everyone that you’ve left the gang and won’t return; and then you deleted and blocked all of their numbers too, once they started calling and texting to ask what the fuck happened.

Soonyoung didn’t know what happened at first, but he loyally left the gang too, and then you both decided to just get new numbers to avoid the hassle of blocking everyone you’ve ever known in relation to the gang. And then they started to turn up at your apartments, so you packed up and left the city, and Soonyoung still didn’t ask what happened.

Of course, you did tell him though. You told him everything that happened with you and Seungcheol and had to talk Soonyoung down from driving back to the city to try and beat up Seungcheol for the things he said to you in his apartment. Try being the keyword, because although Soonyoung is more than a competent fighter and plenty strong enough, one of Seungcheol’s biceps is likely bigger than Soonyoung’s head.

But Soonyoung did calm enough to slap you around the head and call you an idiot for not telling Seungcheol the truth about your feelings when the man was clearly trying to start a relationship with you after fucking you dumb. You argue that the man had just fucked you dumb, so your brain wasn’t working. Soonyoung said your brain doesn’t work full stop. Which…is kind of valid, at least where human relationships are involved.

And that leads us to your new life with your best friend in another town a two-hour drive from the city, and where Soonyoung has already made friends with a man who it took Soonyoung a worryingly long time to realise is a hooker.

You quite like his new friend, and you like playing bodyguard with Soonyoung when Junhui dresses up in expensive clothes to bag the expensive clients his pimp sends him to meet. Junhui loves it too; having the two of you dressed up in suits and following behind him to keep him safe. He doesn’t even mind that you both stay at the edge of the room when he gets to work; honestly, you think he likes putting on a show for an audience.

“This guy is a friend of Jeonghan’s,” Junhui explains from the backseat of the fancy car that you can proudly say you didn’t steal. Soonyoung stole it. You’re so proud of him.

“Which is why daddy Hannie is joining,” Soonyoung hums in understanding, nodding his head, and almost hitting a lamppost before swerving at the last second after peering over the top of his dark sunglasses.

“Remove the fucking glasses, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan, Junhui’s pimp, sighs from Junhui’s right, with both hands gripping the leather seats under him. Which is very understandable. “And please stop lying to me that you have your driver’s licence.”

“Told you it’s obvious,” you mutter to your best friend, who slaps your tit as he childishly mocks you. So you backhand him in the dick, making him groan and double over, one hand over his crotch and his other arm hugging the steering wheel he’s leaning his chest against while biting the top of it in pain.

Junhui sniggers at the antics between you and your best friend, as amused as he ever is by the two of you. While Jeonghan, not for the first time, wonders what kind of circus Junhui found the pair of you in and if they’d take you back.

“So, what’s the deal with this dude?” you ask a few minutes later when Soonyoung parks over three spaces in the hotel parking lot and Junhui cheers at Soonyoung remembering to apply the brakes in time for once.

“He’s an old friend in town for business and wants to sweeten the guy he’s meeting tonight, so he asked me to bring my best,” Jeonghan replies while checking he has everything in his pockets by patting his clothing down thoroughly.

“Aw, Junnie, you’re daddy’s best,” Soonyoung coos, grinning over at Junhui, who preens proudly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me daddy, Soonyoung. I said that to her, not you,” the pimp points out as you all get out of the car.

“What’s hers is mine and mine is hers,” your best friend replies airily.

“You’re married?”

“What? Ew, gross, no,” Soonyoung retches, and then stumbles when you shove him. He collides with the wall of the hotel, making you snort a laugh; at least until he turns and you notice that his glasses are broken, and you can see his unimpressed glare through the missing section of the lens. “I just got these!” he exclaims, taking off the sunglasses, and then carelessly tosses them into the bushes you pass by.

“I’ll get you another pair.”

“Better do. I want Gucci ones.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

When Jeonghan looks over at the pair of you in the elevator up to the penthouse suite, he has to do a double take at the Gucci sunglasses perched on Soonyoung’s nose. “Where did you get those?” Soonyoung points at you. Jeonghan gives you a flat look. “Well?”

“They were just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Where?”

You stare back at Jeonghan, making your expression innocent, knowing how much Jeonghan hates it when you pickpocket people for the fun of it. “Some guy’s head.”

“You stole sunglasses while someone was wearing them?”

“It was really impressive.” Soonyoung nods, entirely missing the point of Jeonghan’s gawping. “Jun’s really good at distracting; they make a good team.”

“You fucking helped?” Jeonghan gawps at Junhui, who just smiles sweetly at his pimp. “I’m banning you from hanging out with them.”

“You’re mydaddy, not my father,” Junhui scoffs.

Jeonghan clearly wants to argue more, but the ding echoes in the metal box, signalling that you’ve arrived at the suite; so he just takes a breath, and schools his expression in an impressively short time while the doors open.

The four of you step out into the little lobby before the suite entrance doors, and immediately, you swear, recognising the suited men standing guard outside of the suite.

“Oh, fuck,” Soonyoung whispers.

“You assholes!” one of the men exclaims, stalking over to flying-kick Soonyoung in the back of his thigh. “You fucking ghosted us!”

“Ow, ow, Kwan, stop it!” Soonyoung cries out, trying to stop Seungkwan’s furious kicks and slaps. “I need my legs to protect my slut!”

“Hey!” Junhui exclaims, and slaps Soonyoung too. “I am not yours.”

“Ow, attack her!” Soonyoung tries to shove Seungkwan over to you, but he takes one look at you and shrinks back before going back to hitting Soonyoung while hissing that you scare him too much to try to hit.

“Were you part of the gang?” Jeonghan asks, looking at you.

“You could say that,” you murmur, and look over to the grand double doors, then back to him. “You’re meeting Seungcheol?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t be there, me especially.”

“Do you owe him money?”

“No, nothing like that we just…aren’t on good terms, I guess you could say.”

“Yeah, what happened anyway?” Seungkwan wonders, suddenly at your side and linking his arm with yours. “What’s the gossip?”

“I assume you enjoy having the use of your hands,” you speak, raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan, who backs away with his hands held up in surrender. “Good boy.”

“How much issue would it cause to take you in there?” Jeonghan asks, looking between you, Soonyoung, Junhui, his own expensive watch, and then the doors and back again.

“Oh, a shit ton,” Soonyoung answers with a hum. “We moved two hours away for a reason.” His face falls, and he looks at you with a sad pout. “Do we have to move again now that they know where we live?”

“No!” Junhui whines, wrapping his arms around you. “You have to stay. You’re my bodyguards! I feel so much safer with you watching over me, and I like having you watch too!”

“You can discuss this later; we need to meet Seungcheol before he gets sulky at us for being late,” Jeonghan sighs, tugging Junhui to his side. “You two wait out here. I’ll have to discuss this with Seungcheol to see if he will be against you doing what I fucking pay you for.”

“You pay us?” Soonyoung mutters confusedly, while you just nod at Jeonghan in agreement, so he and Junhui go into the room. “He pays us?”

It all goes a lot better than you expect. You don’t even need to be in the same room as Seungcheol. In fact, you don’t even see him until 3 am the next morning when you’re pulling him off of the man he was supposed to be making a business contract with; but apparently, Seungcheol found it necessary to beat the shit out of him in the hotel lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask once you’ve got Seungcheol outside and around the side of the building. He’s seething, blood smeared over his hands and splattered on his face. “You were supposed to be making an ally, and I thought it was going well! What the fuck happened?!”

“You! It’s always fucking you!” Seungcheol turns to you and puts a hand on your upper chest to roughly pin you against the wall. You let him. “It was going well until he fucking– Why are you even here? You’re not a bodyguard!”

“Yes, I am,” you frown. “I’m here to keep Junhui safe, and I’m good at it.”

“Not in the eyes of assholes like that. You’re just more eye candy bastards like him think they can have. “

“Is that why you beat the shit out of him and ruined the past hours of work? Because he said some remarks about me?” you scoff. “I can handle that, Seungcheol, I–” You cut off when his hand is suddenly at your throat. He’s not squeezing or applying any pressure, but it’s a solid warning that he could.

You should probably be scared, but you’re not; even if the man looks utterly psychotic with blood smeared over him and wide eyes staring down at you. It’s probably really fucked up how hot you find it.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growls, crowding you further against the wall, getting so close that his thick thigh slots between yours and his left forearm leans on the wall above your head. “What’s my name?” You raise your eyebrow. “Well?”

“Seungcheol,” your defiant response has his fingers curling around your throat and starting to cut off your air flow. It just makes your excitement grow and show in the sparkle of your eyes.

“Try that again,” he warns in a murmur, moving even closer, and pressing his thigh up against your crotch. “Go on.”

“Seungcheol.”

“Bitch.” And then he’s kissing you with the same desperation he first kissed you. His hold is firm around your throat, and his thigh is already rubbing against you in a way that has you grinding down while gripping his waist in one hand, and hip in the other over those fucking trousers that drive you insane. Well, more insane than you already are where Choi Seungcheol is involved. Which really says a lot.

“Uh.” Of course, of fucking course it’s Soonyoung who interrupts you, making you both look at him with matching pissed off expressions. “We should go; that dude is getting taken to the hospital, and the hotel is willing to look the other way thanks to Hannie, provided we all leave and you never show your face again here, Seungcheol. Hannie and Junnie have already gone.”

“She’s coming with me,” Seungcheol informs. “You go.”

“Can’t. Daddy’s banned me from driving.”

“Then fucking walk, Soonyoung.”

“We live so far away,” Soonyoung whines.

“I’m going to break his face if he doesn’t leave right fucking now,” Seungcheol warns as he looks at you.

“Just drive, daddy’s gone,” you point out with a shrug.

“Good point.” Soonyoung nods, then turns and walks off just like that without another word or complaint.

You hope he won’t crash on the way home, or forget that he’s driving a stolen car, meaning that he shouldn’t take it to your shared apartment. But you can never be too sure with Soonyoung. Oh well, he already knows you won’t visit him in jail; just like he wouldn’t you. Your blood pact never said anything about prison, after all.

“This is stupid,” Minghao mutters, glancing over to where Seungcheol has a possessive arm around you in the lift of the hotel they’re staying in for the night— a much less fancy one than the meeting happened in. “You told her to leave, and now you’ve fucking glued yourself to her and lost a lucrative deal to defend her honour or some bullshit.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Seungcheol retorts, giving Minghao a look that his right-hand man just rolls his eyes at.

“Whatever; just don’t expect me to walk on eggshells around you anymore. You’re hurting yourself here and you know it.”

“I’m the one who’s going to get choked,” you point out, earning a disgusted look from Minghao. “What? I know you’re into choking, don’t look at me like that.”

“How do you know what he’s into?” Seungcheol asks, looking between you.

“How do you not know?” you scoff, looking at Seungcheol as if he’s the weird one.

“Because I’ve never had sex with him.”

“Neither have I.”

“Or watched him have sex.”

“I haven’t…okay once or twice…maybe thrice…” Your expression twists thoughtfully as you try to recall every instance where you’ve watched Minghao have sex, intentionally or not.

“What the fuck?!” Seungcheol glares at Minghao, who holds up his hands placatingly.

“She’s a voyeur and I’m an exhibitionist; it just made sense when it happened. She usually walked in anyway. You know she has no sense of personal boundaries and invites herself wherever the fuck she wants to go.”

“You should’ve stopped!”

“You never did,” you point out, and push away from the wall when the doors open and let the three of you enter the corridor. “You never stopped when I walked in on you.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Sex is sex.”

“Right.”

“And I’m leaving, quickly,” Minghao informs, and then all but runs down the hallway ahead of you two to get to his room.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything until you’re both in his hotel room ensuite and he’s leaning back against the sink counter while you clean his split knuckles for him. “Is sex really just sex to you?”

“What else would it be?”

“It means nothing?”

“Is it supposed to?” You raise an eyebrow at him when you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s got that sad puppy look again, the one that twists your heart painfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You sigh and focus back on his hand. “Why did you kiss me, Seungcheol?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want you to leave.”

“And that means choking and kissing me?”

“That’s what you want from me, right? Sex? Just meaningless fucking.”

“No.”

“Oh.” You don’t need to be looking at Seungcheol to know his expression has fallen further into depths that will drag painful claws across your pitiful little heart if you witness it. “You don’t want me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying? I don’t know how to fucking read you, you know? I need you to talk to me. Every time I try to have an honest fucking conversation with you about this, you just stare at me and break my heart without even saying a word; at least have the fucking balls to do it verbally this time.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. It hurts me too; seeing you with that fucking kicked puppy dog look.” You give up cleaning his hand and toss the blood stained cloth into the sink to step back with your hands on your hips. “And I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking…emotionally incompetent!”

“What?”

“I don’t know, that’s what Soonyoung called me when I explained all this to him.”

“Emotionally incompetent?” You nod. “Why did he call you that? I mean, he’s probably right, but he’s usually the first to defend you, so for him to call you that means you fucked up.”

“I hurt you, of course I fucked up.”

“Not returning my feelings doesn’t mean–”

“Cheol.” He immediately cuts off, eyes rounding out at the nickname you haven’t called him in so long. Granted, you haven’t seen him to call him anything in so long, but the point still stands. “When did I actually say I don’t have feelings for you?”

“You said we’re not even friends.”

“We’re not; we might’ve been at one point years ago but…I can’t think of you like that. You…” You sigh and drop your arms to your sides. “You mean too much to me. I don’t know how to put any of it into words, and I was too shocked that day at the warehouse to say anything. And then you got pissed off and threw shit at me, and I just didn’t know how to navigate that. It was a lot.”

“You didn’t even show your face after,” he pretty much whispers, hands gripping the counter either side of his hips to try and ground himself. It reminds you of the day in his kitchen, the last day you saw him; when he was holding the island so tightly to stop himself from reaching for you. “You could’ve come to me and explained, and then we could’ve…things would be different.”

“I thought giving you space would be best. I didn’t want to make you worse. I thought that space would help, but Hao found me and said you were denying my fucking existence and planning to fuck a mark, and obviously you weren’t any better with the space.”

“I was a fucking wreck. I can’t do this; I can’t not have you there turning up to make remarks about my thighs or ass or whatever. I need you there by my side, so come back, please.”

“Just like that? I come back and things go back to how they were?”

“No. You come back and we figure out what works for us.”

“Sex works great; that was good.”

He chuckles and nods a little in agreement. “It was, and I’d really fucking love to do that more; I’m sure you’ve probably got an endless list of fucked up shit you want to do to me.”

“Oh, hell yeah I do,” you confirm, eyes widening as you think of your endless fantasies involving the man in front of you. “How do you feel about taxidermy?”

“We’re not involving taxidermy into our sex life, no fucking way,” he replies firmly. “That’s a hard fucking no; you keep that in your freaky head.”

“Noted. What about anal?”

“You went from taxidermy to anal how exactly?”

“Stuffing.”

Seungcheol tries not to laugh but breaks into an amused smile and motions for you to get closer. “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we discovered this years ago, Cheolie.”

“Mm.” He slides his hands onto your hips as he smiles at you in a soft kind of way that makes your heart race.

“Cheol?” He hums. “Is…I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before they soften back out, and he takes a gentle hold of your face and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you too.”

“Oh, really?” He nods, and you grin happily at him. “That’s cool. We should get married or something.”

“Fucking hell, you can’t just spring that on me,” he groans, hiding his blushing face into your neck as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

“But we’re in love; we love each other, why should we wait?” You’re genuinely confused, and it makes him chuckle a little. “I’m serious, Cheol! Why should we wait to get married if that’s what’s going to happen anyway?”

“Alright, baby, let’s get married,” he agrees, straightening up and beaming at you so happily that you can’t help but smile back at him. “We’ll start arranging it as soon as we’re home, hm? But for now–”

“Sex, lots of sex,” you finish for him.

“I was going to say let’s sleep, but you’re right, who even needs sleep?” He hoists you up with a cheeky grin, while you giggle and wrap your arms and legs around him to make it easier for him to take you into the bedroom.

“You didn’t answer me about anal.”

“I don’t have anal lube, babe,” he chuckles, laying you down onto the bed and climbing between your thighs while removing his shirt.

“I don’t have a dildo or strap either,” you pout at the reminder.

“Wait, you meant my ass?”

“Yeah, I really want to fuck your ass; it’s made to be fucked.”

“Uh, I’ll consider it.”

“Okay.” You reach out to pull him back down and slot your lips together shortly. “Now, you owe me.”

“What, why?”

“You said you were going to fuck me until I can’t walk, and that never happened.”

“Because you let me think you don’t want me for more than just sex!”

“All I’m hearing is excuses and not enough action to put your cock in me.”

“Yeah, yeah, get naked.” He slaps your thigh a few times in encouragement while leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt. You make zero effort to move at all, except to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch intently as he slowly unfastens his belt. “Are you seriously just going to watch me strip?” he asks while teasingly dragging his fingers across the skin along the edge of his waistband with a cocky smirk once his belt is open.

“Dance for me, pretty boy.”

Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips and waits until you’ve dragged your gaze up from staring at the outline of his cock, over his bare torso, and to his face. He’s raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you just call me pretty boy?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking crazy,” he huffs a short laugh.

“Hey!” You lean up just enough to slap his thigh scoldingly, then sit up fully so that you can grope at his thighs with both hands— while he just watches with an amused, fond little smile at your utterly shameless actions. “You are pretty, my pretty boy.”

“Mm, I can accept that,” he agrees, holding your jaw with one hand firmly to tilt you up as he leans in to brush his lips over yours teasingly. “So long as I’m your pretty boy, I don’t mind being called that. So long as I’m yours, you can call me anything.”

“Okay, sugarplum.” You cackle at the world-weary sigh that Seungcheol lets out against your lips before he leans back to look at you unimpressed. “What’s the matter, pookie?”

“Why did you have to ruin the mood?”

“I ruined the mood?” You smirk and slide one hand up his thigh to grip his cock firmly, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden, tight pressure. “Feels like you’re still in the mood to me, pretty boy.”

“I really must be insane.”

“We match well then, huh?”

“Mm.” He leans down to kiss you shortly. “Good thing we’re never having kids; they’d be sectioned before they reach adulthood.”

“Our house would be so fucking loud and chaotic, our neighbours would hate us.”

“They would,” he chuckles. “We’ll find somewhere new to live together once we’re married; away from noisy ass neighbours, and with a garden so I can fuck you outside and see how gorgeous you’ll look with the sun shining on you when you’re covered in my cum.”

“There’s a park down the road.”

“No,” he scoffs, and shoves you back to make you lay down before his hands move to roughly yank his belt free. “You’re mine, I’m not letting anyone else see you like that.”

“Even knowing they can look but not touch?”

“Maybe once I’ve covered you in marks and made up for the past five years of not being able to fuck you.”

“Sounds like a party.” You grin and then wiggle excitedly as he taps the folded middle of his leather belt against your inner thigh. “That’d leave pretty marks.”

“Mm, it would. You need to be naked for that though, baby.”

“You need to dance for me first,” you remind matter-of-factly before lacing your fingers together behind your head comfortably.

“You really want me to dance for you?”

“I’ve dreamed about you giving me a strip tease, don’t kill my boner, Cheolie.”

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep saying shit like this.”

“Guess we need to invest in some gags.”

“Guess we do,” he murmurs, and licks his lips automatically at the thought of your lips stretched around a gag and drool running down your chin as you moan for him. “I’ll give you a strip tease another day; I need to fuck you too much right now.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, baby.”

“Okay.” You sit up and get to work, quickly stripping off your clothes, so Seungcheol climbs off of the bed to force his fitted trousers off his body along with his boxers.

When he kneels back on the bed naked, he finds you already laid there utterly nude with legs spread in wait for him to join you.

“How the fuck did you strip so fast?” he gawps, running his hands reverently over your thighs as he settles between them on his knees.

“Years of practise.”

“Stripping?”

“Had to be prepared for the day you give in to my seduction.”

“Well…good job.” He leans down over you, hands propping himself on the mattress so that he can kiss you.

“Thank you,” you preen, and run your hands up his sides to take the chance to touch as much of his strong torso as you can for the first time. You can’t fucking wait to spend the rest of your life touching him up. It’s going to be great. “Now, cock please.”

Seungcheol chokes on a short laugh at your words. “Good use of manners, sweetheart.”

“I thought so too. Definitely deserves a reward.”

“Mm.” He shuffles down a little, so that he can wrap his full lips around your left nipple and suck harshly, intent on starting his plan to cover you in hickies and handprints to mark his property.

“That’ll work,” you mutter, lacing fingers in his hair to encourage his mouth against your breast. “Not cock, but it’ll do for now.”

“Shut up,” he laughs against your skin.

“Make me.”

“Brat.”

“You like it.”

“I do,” he sighs before moving one hand over your chest and throat until he can press against your parted lips. There’s no resistance at all; your jaw drops enough to allow his middle and ring finger to slide into your mouth. “Good fucking girl,” Seungcheol praises in a low, rough voice as you instantly start to suck at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and between them with happy little moans.

Seungcheol keeps his mouth against your body, sucking and biting violent looking marks into your skin until he’s satisfied with his artwork. He moves down, dragging the fingers from your mouth as he does, smearing your own saliva in a trail all the way until he’s laid on his stomach between your thighs and attaching his mouth to your clit in the same moment he pushes those two wet fingers into you.

“Cheol,” you breathe out, pushing down against his fingers so that he doesn’t even dare think of waiting. He hums against your clit, making your thighs tighten momentarily, before he starts to work his fingers in rapid movements that make your eyes flutter, and fingers grip at him.

As your nails drag over his shoulder lightly, Seungcheol moans and arches up towards your hand, urging you on, encouraging you to grasp at him. Dig your nails in until he hisses and fucks his fingers into you harder and faster.

“H–how much can you take?” he asks, leaning up on his free hand, mouth and chin smeared with your arousal.

“Anything,” you promise, feeling as desperate as the wild darkness in his eyes tells you he feels.

Seungcheol nods and pulls his fingers from you as he moves up onto his knees. He doesn’t even ask you to move, just grabs you and manhandles you onto your front, chest against the mattress, and hips up just enough to give him a better angle to begin sliding his thick cock into you.

Maybe you hadn’t been quite as ready as you could’ve been. As you perhaps should’ve been. It’s been a while since you put anything but your fingers in your pussy for a quick session since moving away from the city. Living with your nosey ass best friend doesn’t give you the freedom to get your toys out; Soonyoung seems to have the uncanny ability of popping up and making a big deal out of it. Lots of screaming and acting like he’s been visually assaulted. You do the same to him. Your relationship is full of a lot of love and mutual, mature respect, clearly.

It’s a tight fit, and Seungcheol grips your hips tight as he painstakingly splits you open, with his mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. Not that you can see. Or have the mental capacity to do anything but grip the pillow and almost suffocate yourself in it with the way you press your open mouth against the material.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he pants when he stops before he’s even buried his entire length in you. “Baby, I don’t–I don’t know if this is a good idea, fuck.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him while reaching back to grab his ass and stop him from pulling out as he starts to.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then I’ll do it,” you huff and push yourself up onto your hands. Admittedly shaky hands, but you’re too focused on your task to care. Too stubborn and desperate to get obliterated by his cock.

“Babe–”

“Shut the fuck up, Choi Seungcheol,” you demand, pushing yourself back harsh enough that he flails and drops down onto his haunches as he swears, hands still gripping you though. His mouth says one thing and his body another.

It’s a task getting your body upright until you’re on your knees, hands free to hold onto his forearm and thigh, but when you do, you only take a moment to stop the spinning of your mind before you start to bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, spreading his thighs a little wider, and rolling his hips in time with your bouncing. He’s not thrusting, but his minute movements help to open you up a little more with every slap of your skin against his.

This position isn’t very practical for you, not with Seungcheol. Not when it makes his cock feel even bigger than it actually is, and your entire body trembles as it presses and drags against your walls in ways that feel like utter sin. You’re dripping all over him, ruining the bed, and you don’t even care. Neither does he.

“Your turn,” you murmur, falling still on his lap as you lean back against his chest to catch your breath at least a little, and give your burning thighs a break. It’s a lot more work to ride him like this than you expected. You’ll have to take up a new workout routine so that you can do it for longer next time. You’re determined.

Seungcheol takes the moment of calm stillness to brush his lips over your shoulder and let his hands explore over your chest and spread thighs.

One of his hands trails between your legs to feel at where your pussy is spread around his cock. He makes a low, pleased sound before abruptly rubbing quick, harsh circles over your clit. You shriek in surprise, body tensing at the sudden attack, and nails digging into the skin of his thighs under your own.

“You gotta cum first,” he informs, stopping his circles for only a second to bring his hand back then down, landing a firm slap to your clit, and making your body jerk as you moan brokenly. “That’s my dirty girl, fucking knew you’d like this,” his tone is nothing but aroused and approving as he slaps your clit again, while holding you in place with his other arm wrapped securely around your waist and his hand on your chest. “You’re gonna cum like this, understand?”

“Cheol–”

“I said, do you understand?” Another slap: this one harsher in a toe-curling way, before he drags his palm and fingers over your clit in a way that could be considered almost soothing if he wasn’t pressing as firmly as he is.

“Fuck, y–yeah. Don’t stop,” you agree, nodding where your head is tilted back against his shoulder. “But…”

“What?” You don’t answer verbally and instead grip his left wrist to pull his hand up from your chest and to your throat. “I fucking love you,” he declares, before squeezing your throat at the same time as he sucks on the side of your neck to create a new claim, his right hand moving to slap your clit in rapid succession.

It’s only a few seconds of the combination; the intense pleasure from all ministrations melding together and sending a sharp orgasm through your body. Your body moves naturally as if trying to fight it and get away as you gasp for air you can’t get yet. Your nails drag deep red marks over his skin, which only encourages him to fuck up into your convulsing walls.

“Good, good,” he breathes against your neck, and drops his palm from your throat back to your chest, both so that you can breathe clearly, and so that he can hold you to him. He doesn’t stop playing with your clit though, his hips humping up into you and barely moving his cock, but it’s still almost too much stimulation.

The first orgasm is barely even over before another rocks through your body.

This time, Seungcheol removes his hand from your clit, giving you some respite, and murmurs praise against your shoulder the entire time it takes you to come down from the combination of both climaxes.

“You okay?” he asks gently when you turn your head to blink your eyes open and peer at him. You hum and nod, giving him a dopey, sated smile that makes him laugh. “Can you take more?”

“Whatever you’ve got,” comes your confident response.

“That’s my girl,” he smirks, looking nothing but proud of you and your pussy for being able to handle his thick cock. You’d puff like a peacock if, you know, you weren’t human.

Seungcheol takes a moment to just kiss you, lips and tongue meeting languidly as best as you both can considering the angle. You personally think it works very well, and you’d give you both top marks.

And then, he pushes you down against the mattress, one hand on the back of your neck to keep your cheek smushed against the pillow, and his other hand holding your hip firmly to fuck into you in a brutal manner.

The headboard knocks harshly against the wall with every powerful stroke of his hips. The back of your thighs and ass are already starting to sting with the strength of his thrusts. His fingers bruise marks into your hip and neck as he hold you securely in place and forces you to just fucking take it.

And you’re in heaven.

If you weren’t in love with the man before, you sure as fuck are now.

Nobody has ever fucked you like this. Nobody has handled you so well in every way. And you just know with everything in you, that nobody else ever will. You’re definitely gonna marry the fuck out of Choi Seungcheol.

It doesn’t last much longer really; not that you can really blame Seungcheol considering he sat there and felt your pussy squeeze and cream over his cock twice already. And now he’s battering your walls so perfectly in a way that borders on painful in the most delicious of ways, so you’re squeezing him all over again in minutes, and almost screaming into the pillow as he forces another strong climax from your body.

You don’t even have the mental clarity to realise he’s stopped, his hips juddering against you as he cums as deep in you as possible with a string of low, rough moans with your name sprinkled in.

“Oh, fuck,” you grunt when he lowers your hips to the mattress without pulling out, just so that he can almost flatten you under his own body weight. You know he’s not entirely laid on you; you can feel the bulge of his biceps against your upper arms as he holds himself up just enough to not squish you.

“Shut up; you said you can take anything I give you,” he reminds in between pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your neck.

“Meant your giant cock, not giant ass.”

“You love my giant ass.”

“Mm. So, can I peg you?”

“Can’t we just enjoy the post-sex bliss without you ruining it?”

“No.” You wiggle your ass, making him groan, and then bite your shoulder in retaliation.

“Don’t get me hard again; I’ll pass out if we go again before I sleep.”

“That’s not a problem, unless you squish me, or go soft.”

“Are you implying you’d carry on fucking even if I pass out?”

“What? Because you wimp out, I have to suffer?” You scoff and then wiggle again. “Got a problem with me using your body when you’re unconscious?”

Seungcheol is silent for a moment in thought. “Just don’t stick anything in my ass.”

“Mm, I can accept that. I want you to be awake when I ruin you anyway.”

“I really don’t know what I’ve got myself into with you, do I?”

“Nope.” You grin over your shoulder at him. “You said you’ll marry me; you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I think I’m okay with that.” There’s a smile on his face as he moves off of you so that he can turn you enough to comfortably kiss you in a way that feels something like a promise.

A promise to be okay with your endless depravities. A promise to marry you as soon as possible and buy a house together. A promise to spend the rest of his life loving you; his utterly bat-shit crazy troublemaker.

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