Top Posts Tagged with #seungcheol

hide & seek

summary: the one where you ran away from your boyfriend, playing hide and seek for months, only for him to win the game he created.

genres: boyfriend!Seungcheol x f.reader, gangster au, cheol is the leader of a gang, angst, angry cheol, some little fluff (?), some comedy

warnings: swearing, mention of a gun, gangs, killing, angry cheol, asshole cheol, one instance of reader slapping cheol (he asked for it), and a vague drabble (?), cheol crying

word count: 2.6k

c's note: hey anon, i hope you like this version of your request /sweats profusely/. it seems like i have forgotten my english behind along with my enthusiasm for life so this kinda sucks. and since its a drabble (in which dictionary a drabble contains of 2k words one might ask but we won't be asking those questions here) it is not fully developed.

but man imagine cheol searching for you like a dog

divider credits to the @/saradika-graphics

The rag in your hands screams for help as you keep scrubbing the same spot from the past twenty minutes.

“Do you have vendetta against that table?” Chan slides in next to you, smiling. The dull orange fluorescent lights in the restaurant only amplifies his warmth more. “Let it breathe.”

He grabs the crumpled rag from you, “look at those red fingers,” he gently cradles your hand, moving it this way and that way in the light, clicking his tongue, "I told you not to push yourself. Look what happened.”

You pull your hand away, turning to the almost empty restaurant with only a couple and a stranger occupying the corner tables. The closing time is in thirty minutes, and the staff has already begun on the closing tasks.

“It’s fine.” You rub your rough palms against your apron, a dull red fabric with the restaurant’s name written on the chest. “I need to,” you point your thumb over your shoulder, “go.”

Chan chews on his lip, the warmth dripping into frustration. He knows you are done with your assigned tasks and idling away scrubbing the tables. “Okay,” bless him for not pointing you out for the millionth time, “I only have one customer at my table,” he nods his chin to the man sitting in the darker area of the dining area, “I can drop you off after he leaves? Hmm?”

Chan’s eyes shine in hope. A one hundredth try in getting to know you personally, to learn where you are actually from and possibly your opinions on the state of the country—anything at this point.

“Sorry, I have to stop by somewhere else,” you decline politely, “and it is out of your way. I don’t want you to spend the night driving me around after a long day. You need rest, more than me.”

The hope in his eyes dies and your stomach turns itself inside out in guilt. With a parting smile, you head back to the staff only room ready to leave for the day. The door swings shut behind, you untie the apron, looking back at the door separating you from a dejected Chan. His friendliness, and care towards you should melt your heart, let him in your world. A world you are actively trying to run away from.

It’s been two months since you are on the run, taking up temporary jobs and changing cities, towns if you ever sniff the presence of a jean jacket and a certain cologne. Better to be safe than sorry. If the man ever catches you, the thought alone has you break out into sweat. You hang the apron and grab your bag, hiking it onto your shoulder, you leave through the back door, pulling your hood on.

You have completely changed yourself, forfeit your pastel colored soft dresses to dark old hoodies and baggy clothes. The long hair is cut short. Now you are called with a different name in each town you move to that it takes a minute to get accustomed to your new persona each time.

The walk from the restaurant to the grocery store is short. You grab a basket starting from the first aisle wanting to relieve yourself from stress by walking around aimlessly. A habit you have carried since your childhood. It is a safe space you run to whenever the house gets darker and your mom is doing extra time. Rows of colorful snacks are something that has kept you company. Until him.

You pause at the dry fruits section, contemplating between cashews and almonds when it hits. You snap your head to the empty aisles, and to the cashier who is trimming her nails, chewing on a bubblegum. You rub your nose with the sleeve, you might have mistaken it, there’s no way he is here. This town is on the other end of the country, and he should be too busy running his gang.

But the scent of his cologne only gets stronger. You drop the cashews box, walking away from the dry fruits to the snacks aisle, a well-lit place with a customer giving you company. Your heart hammers inside your chest, anxiety pricking your skin at the thought of him finding you.

You shake your head, no, anyone can have the same cologne as his’, and you are not that important to him for abandoning his tasks to come to a remote town. He made sure of that, your place in his life, his priorities and you are nowhere in that list.

The scent is stronger. You move closer to the stranger, nothing will happen under the bright lights and a stranger here to witness. You hope.

What if he did come? Or sent his lackeys? Jeonghan was set about stealing the cologne for himself.

The rule with gangs is, once you have entered into a gang you are bound for life. Death is the only way to get out of the ring. And you ran away the minute you found a loophole. Will they have mercy on someone who betrayed the leader? Will he? You have seen him dealing with betrayers and you would rather die in the hands of enemies than in his.

The stranger whistles his way out of the aisle. You grab a random cookie box and drop it into your basket following the stranger.

“Just cookies?”

You freeze listening to his voice, your palms sweating around the handle of the basket. The footsteps are louder in your ears than your heartbeat. Seungcheol found you. And he is right behind you.

“Uh uh,” he grabs your shoulder just when you are about to make an escape, he pulls the hood off of you, pausing for a second noticing the difference in your hair.

Seungcheol towers over you, his fingers digging into your shoulder as his eyes run all over your face. You take a step back, and another, only to hit someone’s body.

Jeonghan is behind you, bending to look at the chips options. Seungcheol grabs your chin pulling you towards him. The basket slips from your hand dropping on his shoes, he merely glances at the fallen cookie box before dragging you out of the grocery store.

An ocean of feelings floods past you seeing his broad back in that damn jean jacket. You wiggle out of his hold.

“One squeak others will pay the price.” He growls, yanking you closer, your face slams into his thick arm. “Chan was it?” He sneers the name in utter disgust.

Your stomach twists, “Seungcheol—”

“Hey!” The cashier calls, “leave her.”

“Just these, please.” Jeonghan puts down the chips pack and the cookies box waiting for the cashier to bill him. “And a secret.” He sets down a gun next to the snacks with a cheshire smile that has the cashier moving, her hands shaking as she puts the snacks into a cover.

Seungcheol drags you out to the parking lot having confidence in his men to handle the situation. You break free from his grip stumbling into his car door.

“Get in.”

You rub the tears of frustration, mumbling a weak, “no.”

Seungcheol barks out a laugh. The leader Choi Seungcheol is standing in front of you, not your boyfriend. This man is nowhere near your boyfriend, almost a stranger.

“No she says,” he cracks his neck, licking his lips.

You have to do it now or you will never be able to. “I’m not your girlfriend.” The words are wobbly, as weak as your anger. “You and I are..”

He is hovering over you, his eyes sharpens, crazed over as he warns, “if I were you I won’t complete that sentence, baby.”

You try your best to suppress the cry in your throat, you really do but you fail. “Why? Didn’t you say you are tired of me? That I vex you? No, no,” your voice breaks, you clear your throat, “what was it? You regret being with me. So now why are you here? I gave you what you wanted? You wanted to get rid of me. I did. Now what? You wanna get rid of me completely? Stay loyal to the rules you fucking made?!”

Seungcheol steps back at your words, he cups his mouth, holding his waist with the other hand as he looks away. The jean jacket sits snug on his broad shoulders, an ever present article during important moments in his life, or when he is nervous.

Silence entertains you two for a minute.

“Yo.” Jeonghan throws the cookie box to your once boyfriend and now a person struggling whether to keep you alive or kill just the way he usually does.

Seungcheol catches your snacks easily, and salutes his friend off. Jeonghan returns it with a lazy wave, giving you an impressed smile, “it was a good hide and seek you played. Had the man running around like a dog.”

The said man flips him off, barking, “leave.”

You grab the snacks from him tailing behind Jeonghan to his car. A bark of laughter followed by Seungcheol holding your hoodie and dragging you back. He holds you hostage watching Jeonghan drive out of the parking lot and into his happily ever after.

Your anger is boiling inside you, you swear it was. Until you saw your man the rolling hot anger is now coming to a simmer. A mix of emotions overpower you. He has this power over you that he can switch your emotions in seconds. Anger to longing, longing to regret, regret to hatred, hatred to love. In the end, he is your man. And it’s been so long since you last saw him.

“I don’t wanna die.” You mumble into your possibly last cookie in this lifetime. “Why should I die if you lost interest in me? It’s not like I asked you to share me the details of your dealings…”

The shadow on you grows longer evidently makes you shut up. Seungcheol’s scent is all over your senses, the once used to be your safe space, triggering the memories of time spent in his embrace, hinting the arrival of him even before you can see him, and the countless nights he spent drilling into you how much he loves you—manhandling you roughly but still.

Until he came in one night, pissed at his lackeys for failing a simple task resulting in him losing a huge amount of money. Your attempts to pacify him only led him to cut your heart into a thousand pieces just with his words. You know angry Seungcheol is dangerous but you never thought you would be at the receiving end.

Seungcheol opens the car door, pushing you into his car. “Buckle up.” He grabs your snacks and bag, winces at the rumpled state of your bag, and throws it into the backseat.

He crosses over to the other side of the car, getting into the driver seat, and pulls the car out of the parking lot.

You steal a look at him before inputting a wrong address into the GPS, trying your luck in escaping from him again.

Seungcheol stops at the red light, he zooms out the map, studying the route tonguing his cheek. He glares at you before completely exiting the GPS.

Fuck. He knows.

Of course he knows, how can you expect him out of all to be dumb. He tracked you down despite playing one of the tricks you learned from him—erasing your traces.

He drives to your apartment in complete silence. You consider your options of jumping out of the running car, Seungcheol hits your thigh with the back of his hand in warning knowing what’s running in your head, and you sit still staring straight ahead. You give up.

The car stops before your building, and he turns off the car. “Get out.”

You take your time in enjoying the last moments, seeing the worn out road and tired security sleeping through the stranger forcefully dragging you into the building.

You wiggle your hand out of his. He doesn’t let go of you until he has you pushed into your apartment and locks the door behind him.

The minute he lets go of you you run to the other corner of the apartment—not so far considering you live in a shoebox. You grab a dull knife pointing it at him.

“Leave.” You find your courage you lost eons ago, “leave me alone. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

Seungcheol tilts his head, scoffing. He rubs his chin watching your cowering hand holding the butter knife against him. He has fading scars from bullet wounds. He still entertains you.

He removes the jacket, throwing it on the old chair. He navigates the apartment as if he has lived here.

“You broke in,” you realise, “you..you..”

He plucks the butter knife out of your hand, slides the used to be sharp end over his finger, and shows you his perfectly good skin. “Yes, I broke in. Do you wanna know when?”

He takes a step, you take one back. “Wanna know when I picked your lock, entered this garbage dump, and slept in your bed? Beside you?”

You gasp, cupping your mouth in shock. That wasn’t a dream?!

He shrugs, nodding to himself, “but gotta say, you learn well. That was a good game.” You are cornered now with him hovering over you, he rests his arm against the wall, caging you in, the other hand playing with your hair, “good spots to hide, and quick to leave. Disguised yourself,” his fingers run down your hair, mourning the lost length, “but,” he presses his body against you, “how can you forget I created this game, hm?”

“Why?” You mumble into his chest. “Why do you care? You don’t need me remember? You..you,” you push his chest, “were supposed to be my person, whom I confide in. But you used my vulnerability against me, belittling the sacrifices I made for you. To be with a man that can die any day and not be found. And what did you do?”

“I had a really long day. I vented my frustration on you, I shouldn’t have but,” he drops his head, “if you are angry come to me, yell at me, or slap me.”

You slap him, hard. And realise belatedly.

“Don’t kill me.”

Seungcheol flexes his jaw, pressing his red cheek, a sliver of anger striking his face and disappearing as he closes his eyes, laughing.

“I’m angry at you,” you look into his eyes, remembering the look on his face from that night, “I am scared of you.”

Your confession strikes him, his eyes widened, and stumbling back. You drop your head, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie, “fuck,” you wipe away a stray tear, “I was shit scared you are gonna kill me.”

“Why in the fuck would I do that?” Each word comes out strained, and hurt.

“I don’t know. You told me you will never regret being with me. But you do. Similarly, you might want to get rid of me since I know a lot—”

Seungcheol grabs your chin. You gasp at the unshed tears sitting in his eyes. He never cries. Not when his comrades are in a critical state or when he almost lost half of his business. Will he get angry? Yes. But never shed a tear.

“That’s—” he chokes up, “How?” He pulls you into a hug, your face squished in his chest, his hand gently cradling your head, “I might kill, but never you. How can you even think that? Do you think I will be searching for you, running around like a dog to find you if I want to kill you? Do you know what the last two months were like?”

His hand on your waist squeezes you harshly, pulling you closer, unable to breathe in his tight embrace.

“Any hand that raises to kill you, will be cut off.” He promises, “even if those are mine.”