[alicanta77]

pairing: hitman!Jaemin x protector!y/n themes: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers warnings: minor character death, blood, injury, torture, fighting, guns, knives and stabbing, just lots of general violence, car accident, corrupt politicians and mentions of their behaviour including torture and murder, swearing, and i mean there’s theft too but idk if that’s a warning inspo: The Hitman’s Bodyguard - there are small pieces of dialogue/moments in a scene that are very similar or taken from the film word count: 30k  synopsis: having worked as a protection agent, you’ve saved the lives of a lot of people. and they weren’t always people you wanted to save. but this was a step too far. na jaemin. a notorious hitman. the two of you haven’t got the most harmonious history, considering you’ve both tried to kill each other a total of 27 times. but now, instead of finishing the job, you’re forced to keep him alive while escorting the assassin across the country to testify in a court hearing in 60 hours. two sworn enemies, travelling across the country together, while a corrupt politician’s private army hunts them down… what could possibly go wrong?

i. the protection agent and the hitman

You moved swiftly across the floor, your steps silent despite the tiled floor beneath your feet. Years of experience in the art of stealth had allowed you to move as if you were a shadow. Invisible. Lethal.

You approached the door to your superior’s office, sharply knocking twice on the dark brown wood before you heard the instruction to enter come from the other side of it. You pushed it open, entering the room, your eyes immediately taking in the few select figures who were gathered around the screen that was broadcasting the news. You joined the small group, seeing the article displaying the current state of affairs.

“The infamous Prime Minister, Andras, is nearing the end of his political trial in Tokyo. Sources say that very few witnesses are willing to come forwards, and those that have, have not provided sufficient evidence to support a removal from power, let alone any form of prison time. Andras is on trial for multiple counts of abuse of power, political coercion and murder.”

The screen turned to black as it was switched off and you all circled around each other, you boss looking straight at you.

“Y/n, I expect you’re curious as to why we called you here.” He began and you nodded once in confirmation. “Well, we have a mission for you. It is of a delicate subject matter, and highly dangerous, and as much as I would rather we didn’t have to do it at all, it is unavoidable.”

“I understand, Sir.” You replied. “May I ask one question?” Your boss gestured for you to continue. “Why me? I’ve only just return from Belize, and there are agents like Jeno who haven’t had a mission in a while who are just as capable as I am.”

Your boss sighed, his eyes flickering to the circled group of armed guards to the right before turning back to you.

“For the simple reason, you’re the only one I can trust to do this.” He muttered, pointing with one arm to the group of guards in the corner of the room. “Bring him in boys.”

The doors were pulled open and a figure was escorted in. He had a pair of handcuffs around his wrists, another secured around his ankles and a chain connecting the two. Two guards were stood on either side of him, each holding an arm that was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, a clear indicator of the maximum-security prison he was previously locked in. You watched as he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto you and his face split into a large grin.

“Long time no see, y/l/n.”

You clenched your jaw, curling your hands into tight fists to stop yourself from punching the smug face in front of you. Your last encounter with this certain individual had been significantly less than pleasant and landed you in the hospital for two weeks.

Your head shot back towards your boss, who was looking at you with sympathetic eyes as you spoke through gritted teeth.

“What, in God’s name, is Na Jaemin doing here?”

Your boss sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the deep breath.

“We need you to transport him to the assembly building in Tokyo where Andras’ trial is. He claims he has evidence against him that no one else does, and, if he can provide it, he will be granted a reduced sentence.”

You stood silent at the explanation, your face neutral despite the multitude of emotions swirling around your head.

Na Jaemin. You’d brushed shoulders with him multiple times over the course of your years as a protection agent. He always seemed to be the one sent to kill the clients you were chosen to protect. You’d last met in Prague and that was the closest you had even come to losing a client. Right as you put them into the private jet, he’d appeared, shooting down three good men and aiming for your client. You’d tackled him, but one harsh punch to your stomach had broken two ribs and knocked you down. Luckily, you’d distracted him long enough for the plane to take off, meaning Jaemin had lost his chance. But, by the time you’d come to, he was gone.

“Reduced sentence?” You managed to ask and your boss nodded.

“He’ll be transported out of maximum security and some crimes will be expunged.”

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Your company had spent years trying to track him down and catch him, moving him out of maximum security seemed like a huge risk to you.

“It’s already been approved.” Your boss informed you, the tone in his voice inviting no further questions. “Besides, his deal is conditional. He doesn’t get anything if his evidence doesn’t result in Andras’ arrest.”

You looked over at Jaemin, finding his gaze already fixed on you. He looked relaxed at the situation, his head tilted slightly as that signature grin was plastered on his face. You didn’t take your eyes off him as your boss continued speaking.

“All those here are travelling with you and we’ve organised your journey. Let’s not waste any further time.”

Your boss walked past you, leading the way and you fell into formation. You could hear Jaemin behind you, the chains rattling lightly as he walked. His breath gently hit the back of your neck, causing the hairs there to stand on edge as you ignored the goosebumps that pricked up your arms.

You were led into the underground car park, where there were two unmarked black vans waiting for you. You all stood around them, a team of ten armed guards, yourself and Jaemin all ready to get in and start your journey. Your chest was tight. You knew this mission could be your most dangerous yet. Andras was notoriously ruthless, and you didn’t doubt that if he knew about this, he’d be trying to stop you.

“So tell me something.” Jaemin’s voice cut through the tense silence. “This man has killed every single witness brought against him so far, and I’m being looked after by a dozen off duty cops?” His eyes cast around the group disdainfully.

Your boss looked over at him.

“These are some of the finest officers in the country. And we have taken every precaution to ensure your involvement is completely classified.”

“Oh, so I’m a surprise.” Jaemin’s eyes widened in mocking hope. “That makes me feel so much better.”

One of the guards you recognised from a few previous assignments, Juyeon, stepped forwards, getting close to Jaemin and staring him down.

“I can assure you, we are more than prepared for any assault.”

Jaemin chuckled at his attempt of intimidation. He looked away for a second before reeling back slightly and stepping forwards, closing the minimal distance between them, and head butting the man directly in the nose. A crack sounded as blood began to pour from this face.

“Were you prepared for that assault?” Jaemin challenged as Juyeon stumbled back, covering his new injury. “Look, un-cuff me, give me a couple of guns and I’ll meet you there.” Jaemin shrugged his shoulders.

“Mr Na.” Your boss’ voice stopped him in his tracks, the sharp tone catching his attention. “The court’s deadline is at midday on Sunday. Today is Thursday. That gives us just over 60 hours to transport you from here to Tokyo. If you want your deal, we should get moving.”

Jaemin raised his hands as best he could given the cuffs, shrugging as he accepted the decision. You pulled open the car door, signalling for people to move.

Jaemin was loaded in first, his ankle cuffs securely fastened the the floor of the van. He pulled his connected wrists up, rattling his chains at them, showing the guards that he couldn’t escape.

You went to get in yourself, but a hand on your arm stopped you. You looked back to see your boss, and you two stepped off to the side.

“Y/n, I don’t need to tell you how important this is.”

“No, sir.” You replied. Your boss then reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out a small pair of keys, ones you understood would be the keys to Jaemin’s cuffs, and handed them to you.

“Good. Now go.”

You followed his instruction, pulling yourself into the van and settling opposite Jaemin. There were four guards with you here, and six in the van ahead. Yet, even with all these bodies, Jaemin didn’t take his eyes off you.

“How are your ribs, princess?” He was still grinning as he tried to rile you up.

You ignored him, instead signalling the driver to start going. Jaemin didn’t let up however, whistling out a short tune as the car began to pull away.

“This is going to be fun.”

---

The vans drove down the empty streets, guiding you closer towards your destination with every passing second. You’d learnt you were headed to a private airport, from there you’d take a small plane and then it was back in two new vans once you landed. If everything went according to plan, it shouldn’t take long and you wouldn’t have to deal with Jaemin for long. The roads were quiet, almost too quiet, as if they were waiting for something.

The air was thick with tension, you were all sat, ready to move at any moment, watching the surroundings carefully for any sign of life. You could never be too careful.

Jaemin was leaning forwards, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands hanging in between them as he observed the city as it went by.

You made sure that you always kept an eye on him. You didn’t trust him for a second. Flashes of your previous encounters crossed your mind and you pushed them to the side. This was a mission, and you couldn’t let your personal feelings get in the way. You needed Jaemin alive.

Next to you, Juyeon tightened his grip on his gun, a minuscule movement but one you noticed all the same. You imagined he was less than pleased at travelling so close to Jaemin, especially since Jaemin just broke his nose.

The vans took a sudden turn, taking you down a tight alley with tall buildings on either side that blocked out the sun.

“Look at those buildings. There’s got to be some nice views from those windows.” Jaemin mused, his head tilting.

“This route’s been wiped clean for us. There’s nothing to worry about.” Juyeon spat through gritted teeth.

“Is that so? How’s that nose of yours doing?” Jaemin’s response caught your attention and you turned your head to look at him. For the first time, he didn’t have his mocking smile on his face.

You knew that even though he was trying to hide it, he felt as on edge as you all did.

Your organisation may have done all they could to keep this mission confidential, but Andras was not a person you wanted to underestimate. He had spies everywhere, and there was no way of truly knowing just how confidential this really was.

Bang.

Your eyes instinctively darted towards the noise but your body held steady. You knew what a gunshot sounded like and that wasn’t it. Your guess was it was just a car backfiring. The other guards however, leaped up, Juyeon pulling his gun into position. After a second they sat down shakily as the van rocked gently around another corner, and the only sounds left in the vehicle were Jaemin’s chuckles.

“Relax. If you hear the shot, it wasn’t meant for you.”

Jaemin really had a talent of sending shivers down your back with just a few words.

You didn’t miss the death glare Juyeon sent Jaemin’s way either. 

The tension rose, the guards shifted in their seats, their hands adjusting their grips on their guns. You focused your eyes on Jaemin, studying his face, looking for any micro-expressions that might give something away. He wasn’t looking back at you, instead his gaze was directed out of the front window of the van. Suddenly, he frowned.

As much as you didn’t trust Jaemin, you trusted his instincts. Just as you turned to see what he noticed, a car on the side of the street exploded.

Your van was thrown up in the air from the front, falling down harshly on its side and throwing everybody inside around. The only person who managed to remain in their seat was Jaemin, and that was only because he was cuffed to it.

The guards started shouting, guns held up and ready to fire at any minute. The doors of the surrounding buildings and cars opened and men poured out, all of them armed. Gunshots began firing all around you, the deafening sound echoing against the van. You noticed small dents appearing on the side as they tried to shoot you through the protected van.

You had to get out. You were sitting ducks in here.

“Juyeon! Clear us a path!” You shouted and Juyeon nodded in response.

He gestured to the other guards, all of them preparing to storm out as you climbed towards Jaemin. You grabbed the keys to his cuffs out of your pocket and quickly worked on unlocking him.

“Give me a gun.” Jaemin demanded and you shook your head.

“No. And as soon as I get you out of here these are going back on.”

“Come on. There are who knows how many people out there shooting at us. You need my help.” He persisted.

You looked up and met his gaze, and you knew he was right. Jaemin’s reputation didn’t come from nowhere, if he was nothing else, he was damn good with a gun.

You reached into your holster and gave him your other pistol.

“There are ten bullets in there. Don’t miss.” You told him, and he grinned back at you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

You tried not to roll your eyes at the nickname.

The gunfire outside wasn’t calming down, if anything it sounded like there were more bullets flying than before.

The side door was open, that was how Juyeon and the others had gotten out, but the idea of going out that way made you nervous. As the van was on its side, that would lift you above everyone’s head, making you a prime target.

No, you had to find another way out. You risked reaching a hand up, grabbing the handle on the inside of the door and pulling it shut. If Juyeon and the rest of the guards could take out enough of the men, you could get Jaemin out without risking his life. You might just have to wait this out.

Just at that moment the back of the van started to smoke heavily. You watched it, seeing the square that was being drawn when you finally realised what was happening. But Jaemin was one step ahead of you.

“Duck!” The shout left him as he moved. He pulled you down as far away from the back as you could go, covering you with his body as the back doors were blown off with a mild explosive.

The blast jolted the whole van, throwing you and Jaemin against the wall. Your ears were ringing and you shook your head. You didn’t have time for this. You had to get out of there now.

The smoke provided you with the perfect distraction. You stood up, Jaemin following and he sent you a nod. That simple nod communicated one single word.

Go.

Together you jumped out through the smoke, guns aimed, triggers pulled at any faces you didn’t recognise. There were so many more of them than you’d realised. You’d set off with ten extra guards and the streets were littered with men firing at you.

You ducked and dodged, always moving. The first thing you’re taught is that a moving target is harder to hit. You tried to stay as close to Jaemin as possible, not wanting to lose him, but there were too many of them. You shoved one against the van, quickly firing and taking him down with a headshot. You aimed at another, pulling the trigger but nothing happened.

You were out of bullets. You ran at the man in front of you, throwing the empty gun as hard as you could hitting him right in the forehead. It knocked his head back, giving you the second you needed to reach him and deliver a hard punch to his throat. You ducked his response, grabbing his pistol out of his thigh holster as you did and placing the tip under his chin as you rose again. One squeeze of your finger and there was one less person to worry about.

You took cover, using the second you had to try to find Jaemin. If you lost him, all of this would be for nothing and a corrupt dictator would remain in power.

Luckily, it didn’t take long to spot Jaemin, he was working through the men like a whirlwind. Nothing they threw at him could slow him down. He didn’t seem to have a scratch on him either. You watched as he shot straight into a man’s thigh, and, as the man’s leg crumpled, hit him with a perfect headshot. You didn’t think you’d seen him miss a head shot so far.

You saw someone approaching from behind him, and you lifted your gun, quickly taking them out. Jaemin looked around, spotting you crouching down. You gestured for him to join, and he jogged towards you.

Even though the two of you couldn’t see anyone else, bullets were still flying all around.

“They’re in the windows.” Jaemin leaned in to whisper, his breath caressing your cheek.

You forced yourself to inhale, ignoring the proximity between the two of you. 

You spotted Juyeon and another of the guards you had travelled with further down the street. If you could take out enough of the men firing at you from above, the four of you could get out.

Jaemin’s eyes were scanning the buildings, and, before you could stop him, he stepped out, back into their line of sight and started firing into the surrounding buildings.

“Does he have a death wish?” You muttered to yourself, wondering how on earth he was managing to dodge every bullet coming his way.

He seemed to have a knack for spotting the snipers, as bodies began falling one by one out. You ran out with him, gesturing for the other guards to do the same. They stood up, Juyeon running out first and aiming towards the windows.

“Look for the shadows.” Jaemin advised and you scanned the surroundings.

You spotted a movement to your left, swinging around and pulling the trigger. There was a strangled shout and a body fell over the small balcony, landing on top of a car.

The gunshots finally stopped. You weren’t sure if you had taken them all out, or if they were reloading but either way you were glad for the silence. You took a second to look around you, at the countless bodies that littered the street. The men you had trained and worked with had been gunned down. Your entire team was decimated.

Just then, you heard engines revving. Dread filled your body as you realised it was likely backup for those out to kill you.

“We need to get out of here. Now!” You yelled over your shoulder, reaching down to grab a few weapons from the bodies closest to you.

“I’m right behind you princess.” Jaemin agreed, his voice absurdly calm as he followed you.

You set off at a run down the street, jumping over and weaving through bodies as you thought of the one place you could go that was near here. Plans ricocheted through you head. You had to keep Jaemin alive, otherwise everything would fall apart.

Then your eyes landed on a body, a familiar one. Juyeon. A fresh bullet wound at the base of his neck, one you know meant certain death. His eyes were glossy, staring up at a sky he would never see again. The reality of the men you had lost slammed into you and your steps faltered. 

Jaemin’s eyes flickered down to his body as he ran past, but, unlike you, he didn’t break stride. Instead, he grabbed your arm and hauled you forward with him.

“Where to?” He asked, still moving.

“There’s a safe house in the area. Five streets over.” You said, forcing your voice to remain even as you tried to shake the picture out of your head.

Ten men. You had left with ten men, and now, the streets were a graveyard.

You swallowed, forcing a deep breath into your lungs as you focused on the job you had to do. This was a mission and emotions like these were a liability.

Keeping Jaemin alive was the only thing that mattered

---

You locked the door behind you, pulling the dead bolt across it for good measure. The smell of dust and old coffee filled your senses and you panted, trying to catch your breath. You heard the creak of the sofa behind you as Jaemin sat down on it, his whole body sinking into the cushions. You rested your forehead against the door, closing your eyes tightly.

You had to make a new plan. You could go back to the office, get more men, but that was a risky move, especially since you knew Andras was out for the two of you. Maybe there was someone external you could call, but both Renjun and Chenle were on a mission in China and everyone else was back at headquarters. Maybe you could-

Your phone suddenly rang, the harsh ringtone shattering your thought process.

You reached into your back pocket, pulling out the device and seeing your boss’ contact details displayed across the screen.

“Don’t even think about answering that phone.” Jaemin’s voice rippled across the room as he look over at you from where he was sat. His arm was lying across the arm rest, his pistol still in his hand. “Your office is compromised and you know it. The only way Andras knew the route we were taking is if someone on the inside told him about it.”

You turned slowly, watching him closely. You noticed how, even in his relaxed state his body looked like it was ready to move at any moment. There was an unstable energy to him, like that feeling you get when you’re watching a horror and you know a jump scare is about to happen at any moment. He rested his arm in such a way that the gun in his hands was pointed at you, a silent reminder that he wasn’t afraid to use it if he needed to.

You walked towards him, unafraid of his subtle threat, and held up your phone, making sure to face the screen towards him as you declined the call. Wordlessly, you let the phone slip through your fingers and landing on the panelled floor with a thud. You lifted up a foot, stomping down hard on it with your heel as the screen shattered beneath you.

You turned away, walking towards a cupboard in the kitchen, and returning with a few maps of the city. You needed a new way to get the two of you to Tokyo. You laid them out across the kitchen table, studying the possible routes you could take. The airport was no longer an option, meaning you would have to travel by boat. You made a mental note to grab a burner phone just in case.

A sudden gunshot made you whirl around, your own firearm drawn and ready. Jaemin was still relaxed on the sofa, the tip of his gun now smouldering and you saw the hole he had just put in your phone.

“Now it’s out of commission.” He grinned. “Just me and you from here.”

ii. no such thing as a safe house

A few hours had passed, and it was time you no longer had to spare. The new route you were taking was already burnt into your memory. Jaemin had changed out of his prison jumpsuit and into some spare clothes stored in the flat. Once he’d emerged in a simple pair of jeans, t-shirt and jacket, he’d gone straight back to where he’d been sitting before and hadn’t moved from his spot since. It was the comfiest thing he had sat on since he’d been arrested eighteen months ago and he was going to savour every second of it that he had. He’d been watching you while you’d been here, noticing how you’d studied those maps with an intense focus. He’d also noticed how you hadn’t looked at him once since he destroyed your phone.

Jaemin had always known Andras would come after him. He knew too much. If it wasn’t now, it would have been in prison. And Jaemin was not going to be shot in his cell. If he was going to go down, he was going to go down fighting.

“Get up.” Your voice prompted him to lean his head over, looking at you through hooded eyes. “We’re leaving.”

“Already?” He whined. He really didn’t want to leave this sofa. He’d forgotten what comfort had felt like.

“This safe house is registered with my organisation. And if they could call me, they can track me. We’ve already been too long, they might be here already.” Your eyes met his and Jaemin had to admit they were enchanting. Ever since he’d first run into you, he’d found you intriguing, how you were always so desperate to do what you had decided was the ‘right’ thing.

“Well noticed, princess.” Jaemin purred, pushing himself off the sofa, his body immediately screaming at him to sit back down. He liked the way your jaw tensed whenever he called you princess. That nickname must drive you mad.

He slinked over to where you were standing, the front door making the perfect surface for him to lean his shoulder against.

You pressed your ear to the door, listening for any signs of life. As the footsteps on the outside gradually faded, you nodded. This was your time to go.

“Okay, this building has two stairwells, no fire escapes, two doors on the ground floor-”

“And one door to the rooftop.” Jaemin finished off. He leaned in closer to you, his lips stretching into his famous smile. “You know, you’re not the only observant one.”

You straightened your back, refusing to let him win by moving back and stared him down.

“We do this my way. We don’t run out with guns blazing. We canvas our options and take the path of least confrontation. It’s my job to keep you out of harms way.”

Jaemin just rolled his eyes, a laugh escaping him at your words.

“Are you kidding me princess?” The grin finally melted off his face as he leaned down once again. “I am harms way.”

The sound of quiet footsteps in the hallway interrupted the two of you. You heard them pattering down the hall and listened as they got closer and closer until they stopped.

They were right outside.

Jaemin held up three fingers and you nodded. Both of you had counted three bodies.

“I know this Na Jaemin we’re after.” A muffled voice drifted through the door. “Don’t underestimate him. The benefactor wants proof he’s dead.”

“Like a photo?” A different voice this time asked the question but the first man answered it.

“Like a head.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows raised at that. Then the third voice joined the equation.

“What about the girl?”

It became clear the first voice was the man in charge as he answered again. His unnervingly calm response sending chills down your spine.

“No loose ends.”

A haunting silence fell over the room and you knew you didn’t have long. You waved Jaemin into the bedroom and quickly stepped behind the door. There wasn’t time to find a better place to hide. The only sounds were the slight clinks from the men picking the lock, a resounding click sounded and the door slowly swung open with a groan. You kept your breathing shallow, watching as the three men entered the apartment, guns held at the ready as they scanned the surroundings.

You reached into your belt, your fingers curling around the hilt of the dagger you kept there. You only had one shot at this. Get it wrong and they would shoot. The men surveyed the area, slowly turning towards you. One more second and you would be in their line of sight.

A thud then a smash came from the bedroom, like the sound a picture makes when it falls off the wall. All three men turned towards it sharply, the one in the middle gesturing to the others to follow. Their eyes were locked on the doorway, fingers hovering over the triggers on their automatic rifles. They stepped forwards slowly, pausing each time one of their steps caused the old floor to creak beneath their weight.

You followed them, your steps silent as you knew where the weak floorboards were. You tiptoed around the noisy spots, keeping out of sight at all times as you closed in on the guy on the right.

The door to the bedroom open, giving them a view of the seemingly empty room. Jaemin was in there somewhere, they just didn’t know where. As they began to move forward, forming a single line to enter, you tapped one on the shoulder. He swing around at the sudden contact and you took the opportunity to plunge the dagger right into his neck. Your hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his chocked yell. Yet it still caught the attention of the other two who turned and open fired.

You held up his body, using it as a shield against the bullets, the silencers on their guns keeping the sounds to a minimum. You heard the sound of two guns became one and risked a look, seeing as one body dropped to the floor.

Jaemin appeared, as if from nowhere, locking an arm around the third man’s neck and pulling tight. You let go of the body you were holding, now shredded by countless bullets, and watched as Jaemin squeezed the life out of him. He sharply jerked his arms to the side, a sickening crack echoing around the room as the man’s neck snapped in Jaemin’s arms. His body went limp and Jaemin let him fall to the floor.

“Now it’s really time to go.” You urged, and he nodded in response, his eyes twinkling.

You grabbed a spare cartilage of bullets off one of the bodies and tucked it away. Together you jogged for the front door, and, once checking if the coast was clear, you exited the apartment.

The wails of sires covered the sound of any more footsteps you may be able to listen out for, meaning you were running blind.

You burst through the doors to the stairwell, just as two more men appeared from below. Jaemin didn’t hesitate, taking out his pistol and firing a clean headshot at the first. He leaped down the next few stairs, repeating the lethal movement.

The bodies lay strewn across the staircase and Jaemin turned back to you with a grin. You stared at him, unable to comprehend how stupid he had just been. What was his problem with following your orders?

“Thank God you’re here princess. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” He teased, and you smiled back sarcastically.

“Well done. Guess what happens now, idiot.”

Jaemin frowned at you, but the confusion melted off his face quickly when he heard the words being shouted by officers from outside the building.

“Shots fired! Shots fired!”

Great. Now you had the police on you as well as Andras. 

You jerked your head back up the staircase and Jaemin moved immediately. He caught up with you quickly, his longer legs taking the stairs two at a time. You reached the top together pulling open the door and coming face to face with two more men.

They were everywhere. And they were travelling in groups.

You didn’t have time to react. One of the men threw himself at you, tackling you with his larger body at force, the impact of the collision knocking you backwards. You reached out a hand to grab something, but the bannister slipped through your fingers and you felt gravity pull your body down. The two of you tumbled down the stairs, falling over each other until you landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom.

Your whole body ached and you knew you’d be littered in bruises by the time night came. You pulled your legs underneath you, not wasting any time and shakily standing up. The stairwell spun and you shook your head from side to side, trying to fix your vision. Luckily the goon who tackled you seemed to hit his head hard, so with a quick trick of your knife, you knew he wasn’t getting up again.

Only then did you remember Jaemin. Your head spun towards the top of the stairs seeing nothing, but hearing the telltale sounds of groans and punches from the other side of the door.

This time you took the stairs two at a time, breathing heavily with exhaustion. There was a stinging pain on the side of your face from a cut that must have happened during the fall but you ignored it, pulling yourself up with the banister to your left as you made it to the top and looked down the hallway. The door to the roof at the end of the hall was already busted open, a tell tale sign that the idiot you were meant to be protecting had gone this way.

You burst through the doorway, only to find him on the roof, with the other agent locking him down in a one armed chokehold, while the other hand held a gun to his forehead.

“Say goodbye, asshole.” The agent spat, his finger closing on the trigger.

“Goodbye.” You answered for him, quickly flipping the knife in your hand so you were holding it by the blade, and throwing it with deadly accuracy.

The man immediately went down, the knife taking him out within seconds. You ran forwards to help Jaemin but he was already on his feet, grinning at you.

“Try not to give away our location.” You chided him, the frustration you were feeling clear in your voice. “Quiet is better. If they can hear us, they can find us.”

Jaemin didn’t reply. Instead he silently lifted his pistol, firing a shot at the man you hadn’t noticed creeping up behind you.

You watched as the body fell. You’d lost track of how many there had been so far, and you still hadn’t made it out of the city.

“Okay.” You breathed, grabbing the gun out of Jaemin’s hands. “That’s very loud.”

“It was empty anyway.” Jaemin shrugged.

A searchlight lit up the sky, baring down on Jaemin and yourself with blinding intensity. The helicopter above you hovered, the blades causing a swirling wind to start whipping around the two of you.

“Come on, we have to disappear.” He said, turning away from you.

You could hear footsteps echoing up from the stairwell, so it was clear the two of you couldn’t go back that way, and that only left the roof. While the jump to the next roof wasn’t extremely far, it also wasn’t one you were exactly keen on making.

“It’s a large jump. There’s not enough time to figure out what the odds of making it are.” You observed.

“It probably beats whatever the hell is going to come through that door.” Jaemin countered, and you knew he was right.

You didn’t answer. The footsteps from the stairwell were getting louder, there were too many of them, and they were getting too close. A fight against the volume of people you could hear wasn’t one where the odds were in your favour. You glanced at him once, long enough for him to read your decision without a word. 

“Ladies first.” Your comrade smiled, bowing slightly at you as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay.” He shrugged, unfazed by your reaction and quickly grabbed your hand before taking a running start.

You found yourself being pulled along, rapidly gaining speed as the two of you sprinted the short distance towards the edge of the roof.

You planted a foot as close to the edge as you could get, and, together, you jumped.

Your feet disappeared from beneath you as the two of you leaped from the rooftop, the street below inched by as you prayed with all your might to have made it.

Your destination came towards you, your feet soon hitting the tarmac with force. The two of you miscalculated the landing, instead of steadily landing on your feet, collapsing into a pile and rolling over each other. You eventually came to a stop, only then registering the arms that were securely wrapped around you, protecting you.

“I like this view of you princess.” Jaemin grinned from underneath you. He had some dirt in his hair from the landing and he was breathing hard, but his arms were still tight around your waist.

Jaemin had done enough dangerous jumps to know how to fall safely. And he’d orchestrated it so that his body took the brunt of it. His elbow stung from the impact of the first roll, but you seemed to be okay. Jaemin was sure he was injured elsewhere, but he couldn’t really feel it.

You pushed yourself up and off him, creating distance as fast as you could before quickly looking for a way into the building you were on top of. You found a door and, with a quick hit from the butt of one of your guns, the lock broke, allowing you two access.

“What do you say, princess, same time next week?” Jaemin joked as he walked through first.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re mad?” You spat, pulling the door shut behind you and locking it from the inside.

Jaemin turned back towards you at that, cocking an eyebrow at your figure as you stared them down. He leant in closer, bringing his lips towards your ear as he whispered.

“Sometimes being told you’re mad is what drives you mad...”

You really hated how he always leant to whisper things in your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your face every time he did it, and the shivers that ran down your spine were not a reaction you wanted to address any time soon.

The two of you leapt down the stairs, knowing your window of opportunity was narrow. You opened the front door, and Jaemin began to set off at a run again, but you grabbed him.

“The first rule of going on the run is don’t run, walk. You stick out from a crowd if you’re running.”

Jaemin said nothing at your words, only allowing his eyes to flicker down to where your hand was wrapped around his bicep. This time he had no control over the grin that made its way onto his face.

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hand back as the two of you set off.

Your car wasn’t far. Each agent had a car within the vicinity of the safe house, allowing them a quick getaway if needed. The only problem was, this car was registered with your organisation, so you would have to swap it out soon. It was too easy to track.

“Nice vehicle.” Jaemin whistled as you unlocked the Jaguar.

“Buckle up.” You ordered as he settled into his seat. “I don’t need you flying everywhere if we get into a chase.”

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes but, thankfully, he obliged.

“I stole one of these back in the day. I was in Busan, and it was sitting there outside-”

“Yeah, I know.” You cut his off, putting the car in drive and pulling off down the streets. “I know all about you, all your early arrests, your father being in and out of prison and you following in his footsteps.”

Jaemin’s lips curled up once again, his smile resembling that of the Cheshire Cat. You weren’t sure if that smile was his default setting or a defence mechanism. 

“Did your research did you? I’m flattered.” His words dripped off his tongue like honey, too sweet for your own good.

“Don’t be.”

“Too late princess. I like knowing that I take up part of your thoughts.”

Your pulse was still racing and you weren’t sure if it was from the fight or from him. And you weren’t sure you wanted to find out. You rolled down a window, letting in a rush of night air. It tasted like gun power and adrenaline.

You just wished he didn’t fit so seamlessly into the aftertaste.

iii. on the road

The neon sign lit up the otherwise pitch black parking lot. Jaemin stared up at it, the words ‘Highway Inn’ staring back at him mockingly. He hadn’t slept on an actual bed in over a year. The slab on concrete with a blanket for a mattress he’d had in prison wasn’t exactly top quality comfort. For a moment, he’d thought he was about to fall asleep while you were driving. Anything that wasn’t as hard as rocks felt like a goose feather pillow to him. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if they served food. Probably not now as he didn’t know what time it was, but Jaemin could kill for a burger.

He pulled his eyes away from the yellow and green letters, instead watching as you canvassed your options of cars. None of the vehicles were anything to write home about, but you were convinced that was what you needed. Jaemin had heard enough times how important it was for the two of you to be inconspicuous.

“This one.” You nodded towards some blue Honda. “It’s an old model so likely has no alarm.”

Jaemin looked at it disdainfully. One of the perks of being one of the world’s most successful hitmen was that he had a very large pay check. He really missed his old car. A gorgeous pure black Aston Martin. If he had that car the two of you would probably be in Tokyo by now. He watched as you moved some of your hair from out of your eyes.

You were endearing to him. There was something about you that kept pulling his gaze back every time he looked away. You were like a puzzle he had to solve, but it was written in a different language.

He knew what you thought of him. And he knew that if it wasn’t a necessity to keep him alive, you would have fired on him long ago. Secretly, Jaemin always held a slight hope that his missions would overlap with yours. Just as he was the best at what he did, you were the best at what you did. And you were the only person who ever gave him a challenge.

You pulled out a small leather packet from your car, opening it to reveal a neat set of tools.

Jaemin sighed. “If you’re going to be a while I can always go in there and get us a room.”

“There is an art to flying under the radar.” You responded, ignoring him.

Jaemin strolled over where you were preparing to break into the car. He leaned over you, eyes glinting with mischief before suddenly lurching forward, swinging his elbow into the window. The glass spiderwebbed for an instant before shattering inwardly. He reached through the gap, popped open the door from the inside, and leaned back, dusting off his hands.

You were staring at him, that stare of disbelief that you gave him every time he didn’t listen to you. He was getting used to it already.

“Art is subjective.” He replied as you surveyed the destruction.

Wordlessly, you climbed into the drivers seat, pulling out the wires from underneath the dash, and began to hot wire the car.

You had been right, there was no alarm. So provided no one had heard the sound of the window glass breaking, you should make a clean getaway.

Jaemin walked around the car slowly, his fingers tracing along the bonnet as he did. He thought back to the first car he ever stole. It was a similar colour to this one, but of course, much better quality. A Bugatti always sells for more than a Honda anyway.

Jaemin had liked his job. He enjoyed the thrill of knowing any moment could be his last. He liked chasing people down, knowing that he was the person who was going to catch them, and seeing the look in their eyes when they realised they had nowhere to go. He’d always been particular with the jobs he took though. He wasn’t someone who took everything offered to him, that’s what made him even more desirable.

The thrill of the job can overwhelm some people. Jaemin had seen it happen, and he understood how you can get addicted to the rush of holding someone’s life in your hands. No one can do what he does and feel nothing. You have to learn how to live with the eternal sliver of insanity that comes with it.

After all, flirting with madness is one thing. It’s when madness starts flirting back that you have a problem.

The car hummed to life, breaking Jaemin out of his thoughts and he opened the passenger side door and climbed in. He shifted in his seat, this one feeling less cushiony than the previous car, but that was to be expected.

You put the car in drive, pulling out of the car park and back onto the road.

The car was silent for a few minutes, the only sound being the whirr of the gears and the sound of the wheels on the tarmac beneath the two of you. Jaemin felt himself sinking further into his chair, the combination of the long day you’d had and sitting on something vaguely comfortable for the first time in eighteen months tugging on his body. He lets his eyelids flicker, unable to decide if he wanted to go to sleep or not.

Luckily you made the choice for him.

“There’s one thing I can’t figure out.” His eyes opened lazily as you spoke. “And it’s not in any of your files.”

You looked over at him, finding him lying back in his chair, watching you expectantly.

“How does one of the best hitmen in the world get caught?” You finally asked. You had been on a job when it had gone down, with no cell reception in the area you were travelling through, so you had heard the news when you got back.

“Family.” Jaemin replied simply.

Your brows furrowed. That was not the answer you were expecting. But he continued, elaborating before you had to ask for more details.

“I was doing a job in Switzerland, simple stuff really, some guy attacked the wrong guy’s wife. Anyway, I got a call saying my mother had been in a car accident. A bad one. I fly back home, go straight to the hospital, and when I get to her room, there’s twelve agents armed and waiting for me.” He was chuckling by the end of it, as if his own arrest was just an amusing anecdote. “Caught because of the heart. Happens to the best of us.”

You looked over at him once more, seeing this almost fond smile on his lips. He clearly cared about his mother deeply. Jaemin’s eyes flickered back to you and you swallowed, forcing yourself to look back at the road.

“Buckle up.” You tell him, and he does as he’s told.

“You’re intense on this seatbelt thing, huh?” He mused, knowing he had just caught you in one of the rare moments you didn’t want him dead.

“It’s logical, that’s safe. Just like not jumping off a roof.” Your attempt to put yourself at odds with him again amused him. Jaemin knew you wanted so desperately not to like him, but he was just as intriguing to you as you were to him.

“You know as well as I do the roof was the only way to go.”

“Answer me this. How many times have you been shot?” You argued back and he sighed as he thought about it.

“Too many to count.” He replied honestly.

“Exactly.”

“How about you?” He challenged and you shook your head, a smug smile on your face.

“Never.” You revealed.

“No way.” Jaemin didn’t believe you for a second.

“Honest. Not once.” You stood your ground but Jaemin still wasn’t convinced. How could anyone do what you do and never have taken a bullet. He knew he had fired at you multiple times over the years, and he rarely misses unless on purpose.

“How is that possible? You’re lying.” Jaemin was smiling but your brief smile had faded back into that sone cold focus you held on your face most of the time.

“No, I’m not. I think things through, I prepare.” You kept arguing your point, but Jaemin didn’t care for it anymore.

“You can’t prepare for everything!” Jaemin laughed. “Maybe if you think less you’d had a little more fun. Life is gonna bloody us up, okay? You’ve just gotta slap a bandage on that stuff and keep rolling.”

You said nothing, your hand gripping the steering wheel tighter and you pressed harder on the accelerator. His words sat between you like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. He wasn’t right, but, for a split second, he made sense.

---

The seemingly endless road stretched out in front of you, disappearing into the distance. Hours had passed, in which Jaemin had been sleeping soundly. The whispers of daylight were starting to break, hints of pinks and golden rays creeping over horizon. 

Jaemin was silent, even in his sleep. You supposed years of experience in his line of work made that a necessity. You hadn’t slept yet, but basic training includes developing the ability to remain laser focused without sleep for up to 72 hours.

During this time you’d made some new arrangements, calling in an old favour and dumping your burner phone immediately afterwards. Now you had a plan that Andras didn’t know about. 

A deep sigh left you, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as you did. You now had around 50 hours to get Jaemin to the assembly building in Tokyo. It was doable, but it was going to be difficult. You knew the second you landed in Tokyo, Andras’ men would be swarming you.

“I first met you four years ago, in Seoul.” Jaemin’s voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You hadn’t noticed when he had opened his eyes again.

“Yep.” You murmured, switching your grip on the wheel. “Back then we knew you as the magician.”

At that, Jaemin sat up fully in his seat, shifting around to get comfortable.

“The magician?” He questioned.

“Because you liked to make people disappear.” You shrugged at the explanation. He’d seemed like a ghost back then, a rumour or myth more than a real person.

“Hmmm... I like that. Maybe we should bring that back.” Jaemin’s voice was soft, as if he was reminiscing.

You thought back to the first time your organisation had realised these assassinations were committed by the same person. It always happened the same way. A single headshot from far away. Further away than you’d thought it was possible. Any shot that seemed too lucky, or too difficult to be real, had to be Jaemin.

“I remember when we discovered your identity. We thought we had you for sure then.” You shook your head, the proud feeling you’d felt that day coming back in whispers. It felt like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was.

“But you didn’t.” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“No, we didn’t.” You chuckled. He was right, it had taken three years to catch him after learning who he was.

If you couldn’t find Jaemin, it was because he didn’t want to be found.

The road straightened out, trees covering either side of it like a cave, blocking out the rising sun that by now was halfway in the air. You looked over at him, finding his eyes already on you. He was hypnotic, his eyes swimming with the stories he’d lived and part of you wanted to pull the car over and ask about every single one of them.

Jaemin stared back at you. He saw the way your face softened as you looked at him. There wasn’t the harshness in your gaze anymore. He wondered if maybe he wasn’t the notorious hitman that you’d spent years chasing, but more Jaemin who made a living hunting the bad guys.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that thought as a sudden gunshot hit the driver’s side wing mirror.

You swerved slightly at the shock, quickly regaining control of the car and looking behind you.

“For God’s sake!” You shouted, whacking the steering wheel with the palm of your hand.

“How did they find us?” Jaemin wondered aloud, angling the mirror on his side so that he could see.

“I have no idea. But if they found us here, we aren’t safe anywhere.” You warned him and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Were we ever?”

There was only one car behind them, and Jaemin could just about make out three bodies inside it.

“Hit the brakes!” He yelled and you whipped your head over to look at him.

“What?” 

“Hit the brakes! They’re maxed out at their speed and gaining on us fast. They’ll go into the back of us.” There wasn’t time for an argument about it, Jaemin needed you to act and he needed you to act now. 

“We’ll go flying!” You protested.

“No we won’t. Seatbelts, remember?” He tugged on his own to prove his point.

You twisted your head, groaning but he noticed the way your knuckles turned white around the steering wheel.

“Hold on!” You shouted and you slammed your foot to the floor.

The car screeched as the speed dropped immediately. Jaemin grabbed the dashboard in front of him, stopping his head from flying into it as his seatbelt locked to keep him in place.

A sudden lurch threw the two of you forwards again as the car behind collided with the back of you.

Jaemin unclipped his seatbelt, reaching into the backseat to pull out a gun. He lifted it into position as best he could in the cramped space, and began aiming. He aimed for anything he could see, the tinted windows making it harder to spot a target. He fired at the bonnet and the shadows moving inside.

You copied his actions, firing rapidly behind you. You noticed one of the doors opening and you climbed out fast before they could. You pulled open your own back door, crouching behind it for cover. One of the men leaped out of the car, only to be met with a bullet from your gun.

Two left.

You heard a grunt come from inside the car and saw a shadowy figure slump forwards.

One left. The final man opened the other side of the car jumping out and aiming straight for Jaemin. You watched as Jaemin curled up behind the seat, shielding his body from the array of bullets flying his way.

You couldn’t get a shot from the angle you were at, you had to move. So you backed up, walking backwards around the car until you made it to the bonnet. Now you could see him.

You took a deep breath, knowing he was still focused on Jaemin and fired a shot.

The shot went through the busted back window and hit your target. Bullseye.

Jaemin sat up fully, looking back at you with that twinkle in his eye.

“Nice shooting, princess.” He praised, sending you an approving nod. 

“Shut up. And put your seatbelt back on.” You instructed, holstering your gun with a small smile on your face.

You walked back around to your door, shutting the back seat door you’d opened as you did. You were about to get back inside when a sharp, acrid smell hit your nose.

Burning oil.

“Get out. Get out of the car!” You shouted, your eyes wide with panic as you began to run.

Jaemin didn’t hesitate. Smoke poured from the bonnet as he flung open his own door, sprinting out. He grabbed your hand, pulling you behind a tree right as the two cars erupted in a deafening blast.

The shockwave slammed into you. Your ears were ringing, your pulse thumping as pieces of debris rained down around you. Jaemin threw himself over you, sheltering you as best he could. The two of you huddled together, waiting for the destruction to stop.

For a moment, everything was still. His breath was hot against your neck, his chest pressed firm against your back. The smell of smoke lingered on his skin, mixing with the faint traces of blood and gunpowder. It should have unsettled you, but instead, you found yourself acutely aware of how close he was. And how comforting his protection felt.

Jaemin’s hand lingered a second longer than it needed to before he pulled away, the heat of him still clinging to you.

You pushed yourself up, forcing your focus back to the wreckage. The cars were nothing but burning skeletons now, sending a pillar of smoke up into the sky.

“You know, we’re going to need someone to blame, if it all goes sideways.” Jaemin cocked an eyebrow at you, ash dusting his hair. You fought back the sudden urge to brush it out for him.

“It’s already sideways.” You replied, tapping his chest gently as you passed him. “Come on. We’re walking.

iv. anchors up

The streets blurred past as the two of you made your way towards the dock. Your legs were exhausted, a dull yet constant ache was all you could feel. You’d been walking for hours, but stopping wasn’t an option. Losing the car had cost you time you didn’t have.

Jaemin followed a few paces behind, letting you lead. One eye on you, the other scanning the shadows. Andras’ men could be anywhere.

“So how are we getting to Japan?” Jaemin asked, glancing over his shoulder again.

“They’re expecting us to fly, so we’re going to take a boat.” You told him, expecting that to be the end of it.

His hand caught your arm, halting you mid-step.

“A direct boat into Tokyo is going to take too long.” His voice was low and edged with urgency. If he didn’t get there in time, he didn’t get his deal, and Andras would be back in power. Jaemin couldn’t let that happen.

“I know.” You pulled your arm free and kept walking. “Which is why we’re going to Osaka.”

He fell in beside you again, matching his pace with yours, a wry smile ghosting across his lips. “That’s still around eighteen hours.”

“Not when you know people. There’s a fast track one. We’ll make it to Osaka in twelve, then head straight to Tokyo, and we should make it with time to spare.”

Jaemin chuckled under his breath at that.

“As long as nothing goes wrong.”

“Yeah...” You murmured, that familiar dread curling in your stomach as your eyes fixed on the glistening water in the near distance. “As long as nothing goes wrong.”

---

Step one was complete.

The boat had pulled away from shore, carrying both you and Jaemin safely into open water. You watched as the city shrank with every second, the sun reflecting off the silver surfaces of distant buildings.

You leaned against the railings on the side of the ship, the metal cool beneath your palms. Jaemin sat beside you, or rather, balanced on the top rail, his feet resting on the one below as if the sea didn’t exist beneath him.

The wind was gentle but insistent, tugging at your hair. Jaemin watched you carefully. In all the years your paths had crossed, he had never spent much time with you. Your interactions had been fleeting moments, sharp and deadly, and always on opposite sides. Yet now, in this rare moment of stillness, that conflict was morphing into something else. And Jaemin found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

You weren’t a challenge to him the way you used to be. Fighting beside you had felt unnervingly natural. He had always been the one who worked better alone. That way there were no distractions, no risks and no attachments. But recently he’d been wondering how he could go back to being by himself.

“So...” He began, tapping his fingers against the railing. “You haven’t ever taken a bullet for a client.”

You shook your head, eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Nope. I’ve never needed to.”

“We both know that’s rubbish.” He challenged, lips curling up as your head snapped towards him, a ghost of a smile of disbelief on your lips.

“It’s not rubbish! I’m good at my job, so I’ve never needed to. No one ever got close enough to take a real shot. Not even you.” Your voice was defensive, melting gracefully into a teasing tone. 

Jaemin decided to let that dig at him slide, enjoying your new nature around him too much to scare it off. He shrugged off your statement, before narrowing his eyes slightly again. His teasing tone faded as he leaned back, the humour slipping from his face. When he spoke again, his voice carried a darker edge. 

“But the real question is, would you? Would you really risk your life to save some of those people?” His words spat out of him as his tone sharpened, and you blinked in surprise at the disdain in his voice. “Do you really think they’re worth saving? After all they’ve done?”

“And what makes you think you’re worth saving?” You challenge, turning so your back was leaning against the railing and you looked him dead in the eyes. “After all you’ve done?”

“Let me ask you this, who is more evil: the one who kills evil people, or the one who protects them?”

His words stung. Not because they were right, but because you couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t completely wrong.

“Do you really think you’re one of the good guys?” You countered, your voice soft with genuine curiosity rather than accusation. Jaemin sighed.

“My first job, my first contract, I was sixteen.” He said it like it was nothing, but the weight to his voice made you go still. “A man broke into this flower shop. It was late at night, and completely dark out, but the owner was still there. He was staying late to do inventory. The owner told the man to take whatever he wanted, even emptied the till for him. But the man wasn’t there for money, he was there for blood. He killed the owner in his own shop and displayed the body over the counter for the world to see the next morning.”

His voice grew quieter, the rhythm of the waves filling the silences between his words.

“The Bible tells us never to take revenge, to leave it to the Lord. But I wasn’t prepared to wait that long.”

His finally lifted his gaze to you, his eyes dark and certain, as if daring you to challenge him.

“So when you’re morale compass gets around to pointing at me, yeah, you’ll be pointing at one of the good guys.”

The water was calm, a silver sheet stretching endlessly ahead of you both. Jaemin leaned back, eyes half-lidded as he spoke.

“He didn’t deserve what they did to him,” he said quietly. “The man who ran that shop. He was kind. The one who took him out… wasn’t. I just balanced the scale. That’s all I’ve ever done.”

You watched him for a moment, the reflection of the sea flickering against his face. There was something almost peaceful in the way he said it, like he’d built his whole world on that single, fragile logic. But the longer you watched him, really watched him, you saw the crack beneath all that confidence. This quiet, fearful certainty that if he ever stopped killing, he wouldn’t know who he was anymore.

“No matter how much peace is in your violence,” you said finally, your voice soft, “it still doesn’t make it anything other than violence.”

His eyes flickered toward you, not angry, just tired. Maybe he knew you were right. Maybe he didn’t care.

“Maybe not.” He practically whispered. “But it’s the only peace I’ve ever known.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to drown in. The air was heavy, not with tension or danger, but from the weight of something neither of you were meant to feel.

You looked back out at the horizon, the city had now completely disappeared and the sun was starting to set once more.

“So how does one of the good guys get connected with a guy like Andras?” You asked, your words carried by the wind.

His eyes were locked onto the waves as he huffed a humourless laugh, his jaw clenching. “I didn’t know everything the guy was doing. And when I did, I got out fast.”

His next words were quieter, stripped of all bravado. “I’m a contract killer,” he said, more to the dark water than to you. “But I’m not a monster.”

You turned towards him before you could stop yourself. The words weren’t defensive, they were too still, too honest for that. There was no fire left in him, no mask disguising him at the lethal hitman. He was human. Haunted and dangerous, but human. For the moment, he was just a man trying to make peace with the things he had done. 

You didn’t reply. You didn’t have to. The quiet between you said enough. It was as if you could feel something changing between the two of you. A new, deep layer of understanding wove itself into your relationship. And that was dangerous enough.

Outside, the sea stretched endlessly ahead, calm, deceptive, and hiding everything beneath its surface.

Just like him.

---

There was only one room for the two of you. It was too much of a risk to split up, even for only a couple of hours to sleep. You’d expected it to be a twin room so when you swung open the door and were greeted by a double bed your jaw dropped slightly before you could stop it.

The last light of the sunset came in through the window, casting a dark golden glow across the white sheets. You and Jaemin looked at each other, and you quickly looked away when you caught his eye. You cleared you throat, walking around the room to check it was empty. Once you’d searched under the bed, the closet and the bathroom you turned back to Jaemin, seeing him sat on the bed, already taking off his shoes.

You wracked your brain, trying to think of anything to say about the situation before deciding just to say nothing. This was a job. He was a client. And that was all. The locked clicked into place, and you moved a bedside table in front of the door as an extra precaution.

Jaemin surveyed the room, running his fingers lightly across the bedspread. He watched as you avoided eye contact with him, focusing instead on busying your hands with your clothing or double checking locks you both knew were secure. To him, the view of you in this golden light was even better than the feeling of a proper bed after eighteen months of a concrete floor in his cell.

“I’ll take the floor.” He said, pushing off the soft mattress and walking to a spot on the floor large enough for him. You blinked at him in surprise as he furrowed his brows at you in question. “What? You haven’t slept in days.”

“No, I just-” You shrugged, more to yourself than him. “I thought you’d want the bed after being in prison for so long. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Jaemin paused in the middle of taking off his jacket, looking far more offended at your comment than you were expecting. You held up your hands in an apology, guilt flashing through you.

Jaemin kept surprising you. With every moment the two of you spent together, you uncovered more to him than you had ever thought was possible. Your gaze was soft as you watched him grab a spare pillow out of the closet, setting up his makeshift bed on the floor.

You got yourself ready, finding your way under the sheets faster than you ever had before. The second you touched them, your body melted into the covers, finally allowing yourself to acknowledge just how tired you were. Jaemin was right, you hadn’t slept in days. You tried to shut your thoughts off, but something was stopping you. From where you were lying you could just make out Jaemin on the floor.

He was curled into a ball, holding himself close, and the sight tugged on your heartstrings. Something about it made him look smaller, almost fragile, in a way you had never seen before. He hadn’t slept in a bed in over a year, yet he’d given it up for you without hesitation. 

“Jaemin?” Your voice was quiet, yet easily travelled to him in the silent room. He simply hummed in response. “The floor looks uncomfortable.”

“It’s more comfortable than anything else I’ve felt recently.” He replied, his words slow.

You chewed on your lip, eyes now fixed on the ceiling. You let your head fall towards him, your body flooding with emotions when you looked at him again.

This time, your voice was a whisper.

“Please don’t sleep on the floor.”

His eyes opened slowly, catching you watching him. A moment passed between you and something in the air shifted. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Then Jaemin slowly pushed himself up. It wasn’t deliberate so much as inevitable. He crossed the room towards you, each step softer than the last, as if he was afraid to break whatever this was. He climbed into the bed beside you, his gaze never leaving yours, waiting for the smallest sign you didn’t want him there.

You didn’t look away.

The space between you felt warm, fragile. You could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing even though he hadn’t touched you.

Then he smiled. It was different this time. It was faint, knowing, almost gentle.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, the word catching in your throat before you could speak.

His eyes lingered on you for a second longer, then softened. “Go to sleep, princess.”

---

You woke to warmth, the covers up to your shoulders and the pillow moulded underneath your head. The boat was still swaying, meaning you hadn’t arrived yet, but judging by the sun in the sky, you'd slept for a majority of the journey.

You were lying on your side, facing the bedside table you’d shoved against the door. It hadn’t moved, which meant no one had tried to get in. You let yourself exhale a small sigh of relief.

That being said, it was safe to assume they’d be waiting for you once you arrived.

A yawn escaped you, your whole body lifting with the movement. That was one of the best sleeps you’d had in years. But then, in that same breath, something shifted. Not in the room, but against you.

There was an extra weight. Warm. Steady.

You froze, heartbeat catching as you looked down.

Jaemin’s arm was draped across your stomach, his hand resting just above your hip.

For a second, your mind blanked. Then the awareness hit you all at once. You felt the heat of his skin, the slow rise and fall of his breathing, how close he was.

You knew you should move, and you wanted to. But for a moment, you didn’t.

His grip was loose but sure, like his body had decided, even in his sleep, that you needed to be close to him. And maybe, just for that heartbeat, you didn’t mind.

If you weren’t risking your job by being this close to him, you might have let yourself sink into that warmth, just a little longer.

You shifted carefully, trying to slip out from under his arm. Instinctively, it tightened, pulling you closer before he stilled again. You froze. The smallest smile ghosted across your lips before you could stop it. Then you tried again, slower this time, lifting his arm and easing yourself free.

The second you stood, the air around you felt colder.

You made your way to the bathroom, splashing some water on your face until the moment faded.

What were you doing? This was Na Jaemin. He had put you in hospital before, he killed people for a living. But he was so much more to you than that now. This was only supposed to be a job. How did it reach this point?

You forced yourself to breathe, shaking your head as if you could scatter the thoughts away.

You pulled on the drawstring by the bathroom window, lifting the blinds. Harsh sunlight poured in, flooding the room in white and gold. The sight of tall buildings closing in brought your mind sharply back into focus.

Osaka.

Determination spread through your body, steadying your pulse. You turned and walked back into the room, ready to wake Jaemin - only to find him already awake, sitting against the headboard.

You hadn’t been gone more than a few minutes, but he looked alert, aware. The kind of awareness that didn’t come from just waking up.

A dangerous thought flickered through your mind. Was he actually asleep or did he know he was holding you like that?

There wasn’t time to dwell on it. And there certainly wasn’t time to unpack the part of you that wasn’t sure whether you wanted him to have done it on purpose or not.

You steadied yourself, pushing all of it back down where it belonged. Mission first. Always.

Jaemin was watching you, his expression unreadable. Your voice was quiet, but your words held a heaviness to them that he understood.

“We’re here.”

v. hiding in plain sight

Jaemin looked out at the docks. Technically this was the final leg of the journey, you just had to make it to Tokyo from here, but he knew you both could feel this was far from over. The doors to the ship opened, and people walked out. Jaemin’s eyes scanned the crowd, settling on the two men in black that were watching the boat passengers like hawks.

“We’ve got company.” He leaned down and whispered in your ear. 

Your eyes flickered over to where he was just looking, nodding in recognition.

“Three more at two o’clock.” You murmured in response.

The more Jaemin looked, the more men he could see. The docks were crawling with them. There were too many of them to fight their way out, especially with this many civilians present. You’d have to stay under the radar.

Jaemin’s arm slipped around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. He brought his lips to your hair as one of the men looked your way.

He curled you into him more, your face falling into his chest, his head bowed as he watched from the corner of his eye until the man finally looked away.

“Stay close.” He muttered. “They won’t be looking for a couple.”

You just nodded in response, praying that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating. 

The two of you navigated your way through the crowd, Jaemin’s arm came up to rest on your shoulders, his other hand resting on what looked to anyone else as his pocket, but what you knew to be his gun. He leaned down, touching his forehead to yours and smiling at you. Not the usual grin you had become fond of, a gentle smile, one you give to someone you’re in love with.

You found yourself smiling back. He was good at this. You leaned into each other as you walked, finally breaking free of the main crowd. A side street appeared, and you squeezed Jaemin’s hand to alert him. He guided you down it, spotting a few cars parked towards the end.

As you disappeared further down the street, your grip on each other loosened but never fully let go. His hand rested lightly on your lower back, keeping guard as he checked over his shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed.

You split from him finally to look at the cars. You needed one that wouldn’t raise any alarms. Ideally, you wouldn’t get one so close to the docks, but with all the men in the area looking for you, walking wasn’t an option.

Jaemin watched as you leaned over one, when he felt a sudden chill rocket down his spine. The hairs on his arms stood on edge, his whole body alert with tension. His left ear pricked, and he moved like lightning.

“Duck!” The yell left him as he grabbed you and pushed you against the wall, caging you against it with his body.

He had only just got you out of the way when the bullets came flying past. If Jaemin hadn’t moved when he did, you would have been killed instantly. One of his arms was secured around your waist, the other hand holding the back of your head so you didn’t hit it when he pushed you against the wall.

The two of you waited, the gunfire stopping for a second so the men could reload. That was when you took your chance.

You grabbed him back and sprinted off. You were at the end of the road so there was a corner a few meters away. You just had to make it there before they started firing again.

Each step felt heavier, as if the corner was getting further away from you rather than closer. The signature sound of a gun cocking echoed in your ears and you instinctively ducked as you turned off the street, barely missing the bullets.

“This way.” Jaemin grabbed your hand as he began to lead you through the streets of Osaka.

He took twists and turns, travelling down passageways and staircases you wouldn’t have known to look for. You didn’t question him, letting him pull you around as he ran through the streets like they were a second home to him.

He only stopped when he reached a huge set of double doors. He rattled them desperately but they didn’t budge. You reached into your pocket, grabbing your tools and offering them to him.

He worked quickly. You were amazed at how he managed to get the lock picked and the two of you inside the building in under ten seconds.

The doors closed with a groan behind you and it was only then that you took a proper look around.

It was an illusion museum. 

“You have to walk through it to get out.” Jaemin explained, his feet already moving like he’d done it a hundred times before. “The exit’s on the other side, but each room connects to three others, so this place is practically a maze if you don’t know your way around.”

The first room opened up in front of you, dazzling you in an array of colours. You looked down at your body, seeing yourself lit up in a bright blue. Jaemin was a few feet away from you, his body lit up in yellow lights.

He turned to look at you, noticing the expression on your face when he did. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing, his whole body drooping when he did.

“My mum used to take me here when I was a kid.” His voice was soft, almost as if the memories were hard for him to return to. “We came here every year until I was sixteen.”

You didn’t reply, but your chest tightened as flickers of the boy he used to be broke through. When you reached for his hand, his fingers met yours halfway, like muscle memory. The second your fingers touched, the lights around you shifted, blue and yellow blended into green, covering you both in the same colour.

It wasn’t bright; it was soft, like being held inside a heartbeat. You could see his face clearly now, the tension in his jaw fading, something unguarded in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. For a second, standing there in the glow, it was impossible to tell which parts of him were illusion and which were real.

You chuckled under your breath, trying to break the weight of the silence. He smiled back at you. It was faint, but it reached his eyes.

Then the sound of footsteps shattered the quiet, followed by the groan of the front door.

Jaemin’s hand gripped tighter around yours, dragging you through the nearest door and into the second room.

This one was a size illusion, parts at the back of the room looking like dollhouse furniture compared to where you were at the front. Jaemin didn’t hang around though, pulling you towards the back and through the doorway there.

This one opened up to a staircase. It wasn’t an illusion room, but the large glass ceiling casted shadows down that danced across the floor as you moved. You pulled back on his hand, stopping him where he was. Silently, you reached for your gun, holding it in position, and he copied your movements.

It was hard to see in the darkness, and there could be men waiting for you at any turn. Like Jaemin said, this place was a maze and there were multiple ways to reach each room. Just because they hadn’t taken the same route as you didn’t mean they weren’t waiting. 

The air inside the building was heavy, silence pressing down on you with every step you took. You checked the hall ahead, your gun raised, sweeping the corners before motioning for Jaemin to follow. The sound of your boots barely echoed, both of you having learned long ago how to move like ghosts.

“Clear,” you whispered.

“Mm.” His reply was quiet, but you could feel his eyes on you rather than the corridor. “Let me ask you something, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, though not as sharply as you used to. “Now’s really the time?”

“Always.” His voice had that familiar edge of half amusement, half distraction from the danger surrounding you. “If the world stopped keeping score, no laws, no sides, would you still play the hero?”

You didn’t look at him, scanning the hallway instead. “Life isn’t a game, Jaemin.”

He hummed once more, stepping up beside you nodding towards the next door for you to take. “Could’ve fooled me. You make all the right moves. You just keep pretending the board’s fair.”

You checked the doorway, pushing it open with the barrel of your gun. “Maybe I’m not pretending. Maybe I just don’t want to lose what’s left of me.”

That made him pause. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was watching you. It wasn’t the way he used to, calculating, but like he was trying to understand something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

You slipped into the next room, a study this time, shadows stretching long across the floor from the glass ceiling that had followed you in. The scent of old books and dust hit you just before his voice did.

“You never asked to play,” he murmured behind you, echoing your own thought from before. “But you’re still here.”

You turned toward him, ready to say something back, but he was closer than you expected. Your shoulder brushed his chest, a fleeting contact that, once again, sent your pulse spiking. He didn’t step back.

Neither did you.

Before either of you could speak, movement flickered in the corner of your vision. Instinct kicked in and you grabbed Jaemin, dragging him down behind the desk just as gunfire ripped through the air.

Bullets shattered glass above you, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. You met his eyes, a silent exchange, quick and certain, before you both returned fire, covering each other in perfect rhythm. You didn’t need to speak to coordinate anymore; you just knew.

The shots stopped. That silence again, the kind that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You started to move, but Jaemin’s arm shot out across your waist, stopping you cold. Without a word, he picked up a single stray bullet, rolled it between his fingers, and tossed it down the hall.

You barely had time to duck before a fresh volley of bullets tore into the spot where it landed.

Jaemin leaned in, his breath brushing your ear. “Humans are a bit like T-rexes,” he whispered, the faintest trace of a smile in his voice. “We hone in on movement.”

You felt it then. The warmth of his chest against your back, his heartbeat steady and strong where your shoulder touched him. For a man who had been nothing but chaos in your life, his calm now was almost disarming.

You let out a slow breath, eyes flicking up to his.

“Then stay still,” you murmured, matching his tone. “Let them chase the shadows.”

He smiled at that. Not the sharp grin of before, but the kind that carried weight. And for a fleeting second, even as danger closed in, you weren’t just the protector and the criminal anymore.

You were two people holding your breath in the same heartbeat.

“Under the desk.” Jaemin breathed out, his voice low and warm against your cheek. “There’s a trap door. It’s a shortcut out.”

It took everything you had in you to move away from him. You shifted into the narrow space, feeling along the floor underneath the desk until your fingers brushed a hidden hook. You tugged it, lifting the door open. Thankfully, it was silent, no groan or warning creak that could give you away. If anyone came looking, it would seem like you had vanished.

You swung your legs down first, testing the gap. Jaemin’s eyes met yours, a silent reassurance cutting through the noise.

“It’s not a far drop, princess. I promise.”

You trusted him.

You pushed off, landing in a crouch on the ground below. Jaemin followed a second later, catching the trap door with one hand to close it quietly behind him.

And then you saw where you were.

Mirrors surrounded you in every direction. Your reflection stared back from every angle, fractured and multiplied. Light flickered across the glass, throwing ghost versions of you through the maze.

Jaemin scanned the reflections, focused. “Here,” he said, crouching beside one of the walls. He pointed to a thin white strip near the floor. “They put these in for kids who get lost. Follow them and it takes you to the exit.”

You opened your mouth to reply when the mirror beside you exploded.

The sound was deafening, shards of glass scattering across the floor in a flash of light. Three men appeared as if from nowhere, their shapes distorted by the broken reflections. One lunged straight for you while the other two went for Jaemin.

The mirrors surrounding you made everything disorienting. You couldn’t tell how close anyone was or if what you saw was even real. You stepped back, locking your eyes on movement, both hands tightening around your gun.

You lifted and fired. It would’ve been a perfect headshot, only the mirror in front of you shattered. Not him.

You turned just in time to fire again, the bullet landing a second before the man reached you. He stumbled, falling forward, his hand scraping at your ankles. You barely had time to think before you send another round straight through his skull.

The only thing you could hear was your shaky breathing. You’d been in tight corners before, more times than you could count. But never like this. Never in a place where you couldn’t tell what was real. And that was what shook you the most.

You had to focus.

Your head whirled around, scanning the area for any sign of Jaemin but all you saw was your own reflection.

You forced yourself forward, through the maze, following the faint white strip Jaemin had pointed out. Somewhere ahead came the sound of fists, the dull thud of impact, and a grunt that could only belong to him.

The sounds told you he was still alive. There wasn’t enough time to enjoy the feeling of relief that tried to flood your system, and you set off at a run. 

You skidded around a harsh corner, seeing him locked in a fist fight with the two men that tackled him.

Jaemin moved like a storm, fast, furious, and deadly. His gun was gone, but his hands were more dangerous. He slammed one man into the glass, turned, and threw the other across the floor, but you could see the fatigue in him. Every strike cost him something.

You aimed for the loose man, the one still trying to reach his weapon. The mirrors threw his image everywhere, there were eight of him, maybe ten. Then your gaze found the white strip by his boots. Now you knew which one was real.

You stilled yourself, your breath calming as it had done many times before. You aimed, your finger squeezing the trigger harshly.

The man fell. One down.

Jaemin twisted the last man into a chokehold, but his rhythm was faltering. You adjusted your aim, trying to get a clear shot, but they were too close and their movements were too fast. If you missed, it would be Jaemin you killed.

And then something hit you from the side.

The world spun. You violently crashed into a mirror and it shattered around you, slicing into your arms and shoulder as you hit the floor and the breath was ripped from your lungs.

“Princess?” Jaemin’s voice called out for you, but it sounded warped, like it was echoing underwater.

You blinked up at your dozens of reflections, each one bloodier than the last. Your arm was slick and red, glass embedded deep in your skin. Blood ran down from your temple, pooling in your eyelashes.

A dark figure loomed over your body, casting a menacing shadow.

You kicked, weakly, catching him just enough to knock him backwards. It was a blurry picture, blood from the wound in your head was reaching your eyes, staining your vision in red.

The effort of the movement made your head spin.

You tasted blood when you breathed.

Jaemin watched helplessly as you wheezed, the pain evident on your face.

You tried to call out to him, but no sound came out.

Two more men appeared in the mirrors, their steps crunching against the shards that surrounded you. You tried to lift your gun but your vision slipped, edges blurring into flashes of white and black.

Jaemin saw them before they reached you. At the sight, a surge of rage rushed through him. He broke his hold on the man in front of him, twisted, and snapped the man’s neck in a single brutal motion. Jaemin was moving before the body hit the ground.

He ran for you. He had to reach you.

But he didn’t.

The men got there first, dragging you back by the arms. You struggled weakly, blood streaking the floor beneath you, glass clinging to your clothes.

“Separate them!” The man who slammed into you yelled, and Jaemin ran faster.

The two men pulled you back and out of sight. Jaemin had never felt fear the way he did when you disappeared.

“Princess?” He called out, still running towards you.

One of the attackers turned to fire. Jaemin ducked, grabbed a fallen shard of glass, and drove it straight into the man’s throat. The spray caught the mirrors, painting the reflections red.

“Princess?” His voice was sounding desperate, and he could hear it. He didn’t know how to hide the panic he was feeling. 

He rounded the corner where they had taken you, only to be met with empty space.

Jaemin’s whole body was alight. His mind was running at a million miles an hour, thoughts and fears flashing through him like bullets. He whirled on the spot, trying to see any place you could be hiding. His panic overtook him, any logic or sense he had dissolving at the realisation that he couldn’t find you.

And something inside of him broke.

“Y/n!” Your name left him in a scream.

It wasn’t a call. It was a fracture. The sound cracked through the maze, bouncing off every mirrored wall, multiplying like the ghosts of his own fear. It didn’t sound like Jaemin. It sounded like someone being torn apart.

You didn’t respond.

Black figures poured into the room, all armed to their teeth with weapons. Jaemin stumbled backward, vision narrowing, heart hammering. He was completely outnumbered on his own. His feet travelled backwards, but his heart pulled him forwards. He couldn’t leave you.

Gunfire erupted. He threw himself behind a wall of broken mirrors, pressing low, calculating. His mind ran faster than his pulse. If they found him now, it was over.

He crouched down there, almost shaking when sudden flashbacks from hide and seek games when he was younger shot through him. He remembered this place clearer than he ever had before. He lifted a hand, searching for the corner of the mirror and pushing down against it. The hidden door popped open, and Jaemin climbed inside, closing it behind him just enough to peek through.

His mind was racing. He was out of bullets, you had been taken from him and the men kept coming.

The gunfire stopped, an eerie silence falling over the room.

Jaemin didn’t care if this was how he went out. He had to get you to safety. He was ready to move when voices stopped him in his tracks.

“As soon as you find him, kill the girl.”

Jaemin froze, and the fear left him.

It drained from his face, his breath, his body, and was replaced by something colder. Something that had once defined him before you came along.

Rage.

The wall of rage descended over Jaemin like a tsunami.

His vision sharpened to white. He could hear his own pulse in his ears, steady now, almost calm.

He would make them pay.

Footsteps echoed around the room, searching high and low for him. He heard their taunts, trying to provoke him out of hiding. All Jaemin wanted was to burst out there and kill every man he laid his eyes on.

But he couldn’t. Maybe he would have done it once, but now he had to think about you. If they caught him, they had no reason to keep you alive.

The seconds passed like hours. No matter where they looked, they couldn’t find him. Eventually, they gave up.

“He’s gone.” One of them said. “Put the girl in the van, we’ll get an answer from her when she wakes up.”

The room fell silent once again. Jaemin was alone. He pushed the door and slowly let himself walk out into the open. He stood there, unarmed and unguarded. Jaemin let a second pass, just one second was all it took to come up with a plan.

The floor glittered with glass. His reflection looked back at him from a hundred different angles, blood-spattered, hollow-eyed, feral.

The rage in Jaemin’s eyes could devour the whole world. And that rage was about to exact the sort of vengeance only an assassin could command.

Jaemin walked unnaturally calmly towards the exit, only stopping at the body of the last man he’d killed. He cast his eyes down, seeing the unnatural angle his broken neck lay at and let a smile come over him. It was a sinister, sadistic smile he hadn’t worn since the two of you had started your journey together.

He crouched, picking up the fallen gun. The cool metal fit into his palm like an old habit. Like it was at home between his fingers.

The warmth in him was gone.

He had a new mission.

vi. caught

Darkness was all you could see.

You weren’t sure when you woke up, or how long you had been out. All you knew was your arm stung and your head was throbbing. A low groan slipped out of you as your head rolled from one side to the other, too heavy to hold up upright.

Light abruptly flooded your vision. You squinted your eyes, trying to make out figures in the haze of it all. The picture in front of you gradually cleared and you found yourself strapped to a chair in an empty room, maybe a basement of some kind.

The walls were bare, with no windows and only one door. Meaning there was only one way in or out.

You tried to shift and found you couldn’t. Thick zip ties cut into your wrists and ankles, locking you in place.

To your right, a man sat hunched beside a steel table, twisting a dial on a squat metal box. The battery hummed quietly, a wire leading from it to somewhere out of sight. A yellow placard read 75V. Enough to stop a heart. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the realisation.

Somewhere beyond the door, voices murmured, too distorted for you to make out what was being said. Then the handle turned with a slow creak.

You pulled against your restraints, trying to find anything you could use as a weapon. A knife, a pipe or even a plank of wood would do.

Another creak drew your attention back to the door as it finally opened.

You inhaled deeply, silently counting to three to try to slow your racing heart. You couldn’t let them see you panic. Any fear you showed would only give them leverage.

A figure stepped inside, their face covered by a mask. There was something in the way he moved that tugged at your memory. A deliberate, measured patter to his walk that you could piece together through the fog still clouding your brain.

He crossed the floor with unhurried steps, stalking towards you the way a hunter stalks a wounded deer.

Then he crouched, getting closer until you could feel his breath.

You looked back defiantly, refusing to flinch.

One hand lifted, tracing the length of your jawline with their fingertip, thumb pausing under your chin just long enough to feel like ownership. Then he peeled the mask away.

“Don’t worry y/n. You’re safe now.” Your boss smiled.

He wiped a smear of dried blood off your cheek, a usually caring gesture that this time made your skin crawl.

“You were lucky.” He said, fingertips still lingering on your face. “We ran into some of Andras’ men in Osaka. Found you in the back of one of their vans. You took quite a hit to the head.”

You blinked, your focus slowly inching back through the blur. “Then... these?” You nodded towards your restraints.

“A precaution.” He replied easily. “In case you woke up in fight or flight. You’ve done enough now. I’ve got a new team taking over. Just tell me where Jaemin is, and you can go home.”

It should have been reassuring. Should have put your mind at ease, knowing your part in this was over. But it wasn’t.

Something in his voice was wrong. It was too polished, as if he was reading from a script. 

“I don’t know where he is.” You answered honestly.

He tilted his head, studying you with mild amusement. “There must have been somewhere you promised to meet if you got separated? A safe house? A park? Where would Jaemin go after the museum?”

The words landed slowly, one after the other, until the meaning struck like a blade.

“Sir?” Your eyes narrowed. “If you ran into Andras’ men on the street, how did you know we were in a museum?”

A beat.

Then his smile changed. Not the polite smile you’d known for years. Not even the sharp one he used in meetings. This one was different. It was cruel and amused. The kind of smile that lived in the dark.

“It was you.” You whispered. “You’ve been working for Andras.”

Your boss raised his eyebrows mockingly at you. “Well done.” Then he leaned in, his mouth right next to your ear as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Princess.”

The word cut through you like ice and you jerked your head away from him, the restraints biting into your wrists as you struggled.

He stood, laughing as he walked a few steps away from you.

“What’s wrong?” He taunted. “You don’t like it when anyone else calls you that?”

“You gave them our route. You’ve been following us ever since.” You spat the words out, the realisation tasting like poison on your tongue.

Everything made sense now. Of course it was him. No one else had the power to find you no matter how off the grid you were.

“Yes.” His voice was low, but there was nothing soft about it. He paced slowly around the room, moving with a threatening calmness. “And you haven’t made it easy. The fast track ship into Osaka, the burner phone, switching cars, even staying off the main roads” He tutted, as if impressed by your efforts. “You two were good. Smarter than most.” 

“You knew everything?” Your throat felt dry, all the efforts you had gone to felt like it was for nothing.

“No, I found everything out. Reporting back when you changed direction. And every time you thought you’d lost them, I was just close enough to keep sight of you. Some plans work better without guns.”

The room felt like it was closing in on you.

He stopped pacing, leaning in close once again.

“You made it difficult, y//n. You really did.” He straightened up, towering over you as his expression darkened, the admiration on it twisting into something colder. “But not difficult enough.”

He reached for the battery, turning the dial up more so the previously low hum whirred to life.

“Jaemin can’t be allowed to make it to the assembly building.” He murmured, his eyes glinting with the kind of calm that only comes before cruelty. “So tell me, where is he?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the answer he was looking for, and even if you did, you wouldn’t give Jaemin up.

You closed your lips, narrowing your eyes in defiance. You boss sighed, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

“I thought you were smarter than this y/n.” He waved over to the other man in the room, the one who had been sitting silently this whole time. “I guess not. Don’t worry. You’ll tell us soon enough.”

The other man finally stood, holding two jumper cables. You tried not to squirm away from him, your wrists already red and raw. He barely looked at you as he approached, striking the ends against each other as sparks flew off them.

“One last chance. Anything you want to say?”

You looked back up at your boss. The man had taught you everything you knew. He’d bandaged wounds when you got hurt, helped you when you lost clients, made sure you could survive anything that was thrown at you. But this man, the man standing in front of you, was the antithesis of who you had known him to be.

“Not to you.” You spat.

The wires pressed into your side.

The first shock was shallow. A hot, jagged clap that stole your breath and left your muscles trembling. You gasped, the sound small and animal. A sharp, metallic taste flooded your mouth.

Your boss didn’t look away. He watched the way you jerked, the way your body fought itself, and when the wires were finally pulled back, your chest heaved like you were drowning.

The blur in your vision was returning. Your body had been pushed to its limits on this mission. You knew didn’t have the strength to hold out for long.

“Nerves are a fragile thing.” Your boss mused, turning the dial up as the machine whirred even louder. “Let’s see if this helps your memory.”

This time, when the current ate through you, it did not release immediately. Your muscles bucked and your vision blurred across the screen. Pain came in waves, each one new and hungry. You thought of Jaemin... You remembered his hands, his laugh, the way he’d kept you safe while he could, and you held to the image like a life raft.

When the cables were pulled from you, the silence was worse than the electric. Your chest heaved, tears you didn’t intend pooling hot and sticky at the corner of your eyes. Your throat felt scorched from the sound you’d forced out. Your head fell forwards, hanging heavily and you spat.

Blood hit the floor.

“Anything come to mind?” You could barely make out the words. A murky picture of your boss reaching back over to the dials broke through your fragmented vision. “Then we’ll keep going until something does.”

Again, the man touched the metal to your skin. And, once again, the current ripped through you, travelling across your body like lightning searching for the ground. Every part of you lit with the feeling of fire.

A scream ripped from your throat at the contact, your back arching off the chair. Every muscle in your body seized at once. It was a long, torturing wave that crawled under your skin mercilessly.

Your hands clenched and the zips ties bit into your skin, beginning to tear the flesh raw. 

When at last it stopped, your world had narrowed to a single sound, the faint, metallic whirr of the battery.

You couldn’t do it again. Your body was broken. Your fingers wouldn’t unclench, you weren’t even sure if you could still feel them. Your head was pounding, your pulse racing, vision edging into black from the edges. Beads of sweat fell from your forehead as you gasped in desperate breaths. Your lungs stuttering with every fragile attempt.

You couldn’t tell if the next breath would come.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, heavier, as if whoever it was wanted to be heard. Someone banged on the outer door. Voices raised to shouts, a commotion brewing. The masked torturer’s nostrils flared. He looked up with the same bored entitlement that had carried him this far.

Even your boss turned his head, confused at the noise. His calm demeanour was shifting, morphing into tension, as if he was on edge from the disruption.

Then the door burst open.

Jaemin.

He stood there, time freezing as they realised what was happening. Then Jaemin moved. A force of violence so clear and brutal that it didn’t seem human. He blew through the room like a storm, his focus locked on the man next to you, who was still holding the jumper cables.

Jaemin was driven by a wild insanity that made the room spin. The torturer fumbled the cables, dropping them as he reached into his back pocket for a gun, but Jaemin reached him first.

He slammed into him, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt and throwing him powerfully against the battery, never loosening his grip.

Jaemin growled as he pulled the man back slightly before thrusting him forwards again, this time sending him flying over the machine that still hummed away. Jaemin spared a look at him, finally taking in what they had been doing to you. He saw the cables, he saw the burns, he saw your bleeding wrists, and it was like he blacked out.

He reached for the dials, twisting them to the maximum level without hesitation and grabbing the discarded cables on the floor.

The wires vibrated in Jaemin’s hands, overcharged with lethal energy, as the masked man stumbled back to his feet.

Jaemin lunged, catching the man in his chest with the cables, pushing down hard.

The man couldn’t scream. His mouth twisted open, almost breaking itself in the process as his body convulsed in a twisted arch. His arms started to spasm, shooting out in random directions.

It wasn’t enough.

Jaemin stepped even closer, gradually dragging the jumper cables higher up the man’s chest, forcing the current deeper. The man’s convulsions got worse as he did, each second he was still breathing fuelled Jaemin’s rage. His eyes began to widen, chocked sounds barely escaping from him throat as he lost his ability to breathe. Tears of blood began to slowly drip from his eyes and Jaemin melted his body from the inside.

At the last second Jaemin yanked the cables away. The man collapsed immediately, crashing down onto the floor, desperately trying to breathe. He was still alive.

For now. 

Jaemin stepped over him, planting his feet on either side of the man’s spasming torso. The jumper cables fell from his fingers, hitting the floor with a heavy clang. With menacing precision, Jaemin pulled out a knife, watching the man writhe on the floor beneath him. He twisted the blade in his fingers, imagining all the things he wanted to do to make him pay.

He didn’t deserve to go quickly. He deserved to suffer.

And if Jaemin had the time, he would make sure that his name was one that this man would never forget. He would leave such a permanent mark on him that everyone who heard about it, knew never to touch you.

Jaemin struck downwards, powerfully piercing the blade straight through the man’s left eye. Jaemin pushed again, hearing the sickening crunch as he broke through the skull. The man’s jaw went slack, his life draining out of him as Jaemin stood up straight again.

He lifted his head towards your boss now, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jaemin’s eyes scanned the room, spotting the scuff marks on the floor and the door ajar, still swinging slightly.

That coward had run. Let him. Jaemin would find him soon enough. He always did.

He stepped off the dead body, his arms still twitching from the electrical current, and let himself properly take in the surroundings. His mind was still racing, being driven by something primal and instinctive. Then his gaze landed on you.

And the fury cracked.

Your face was empty, eyes hollow as they stared at him, all the life that used to sparkle there had disappeared. You were trying to focus on him, to find him through the dark spots that clouded your vision.

The sight of you broke him in a way no battle ever could. His chest tightened so sharply he thought something inside of him was going to snap.

He was at your side in a flash, cutting the zip ties off you. You slumped forwards as he did, your body spent, with no strength to hold yourself together.

He let you fall into him, cradling you in his arms, holding you close to him. 

You looked up at him, and it was as if you finally realised he was there. That he had come for you.

“Jaemin...” His name left you in a whimper, and the sound of your voice undid him completely.

His hand was trembling as he reached out to brush some hair away from your face.

“Hey princess.” He smiled weakly at you.

You tried to smile back, but everything hurt too much. Instead you let him tighten his grip on you, feeling safe for the first time.

He dropped his head to yours, placing a fierce but gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Only I call you that.” He whispered, his lips still against your skin. “Only me.”

He couldn’t think about what they had done to you. He couldn’t bear it. Every time he remembered the way his nickname for you sounded coming from another man’s mouth his skin crawled. If he thought about it for too long, he would hunt his way through the city until there was no one left for him to kill.

Your eyes were fluttering, exhaustion taking over you, and Jaemin cradled you closer to him.

“Stay awake, princess. Let’s get you out of here, just stay awake.” His voice never stopped. Whether you could hear him or not, he needed you to know he was there.

Your body was limp as he carried you, your head falling against his collarbone. He held you tight, so close to his chest he could feel every fragile beat of your heart against him.

Jaemin didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you leave. He had killed every man he had come across. Bodies littered the hallway as Jaemin walked towards the exit, each other them killed in their own individually brutal way. 

He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to.

Outside, the car was waiting exactly where he’d left it. He opened the back door, placing you on the backseat and clipping you in safely.

He held your face in his hands again, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. He wanted to leave this place, to wipe it from your memory and make sure you could never relive this again.

Jaemin would burn the world for you.

He pressed his forehead to yours once more, a gentle reassurance that he wasn’t leaving you behind.

“I’ve got you princess. I’ve got you. And I am not letting you go.”

vii. stay awake

This time you woke up to quiet. The gentle movements of the car coaxed you out of your unconscious state, guiding you back into the world of the living.

You blinked slowly, eyes adjusting in their own time to their surroundings. Trees passed you in a blur, small flickers of golden sunlight slipping through the gaps and dancing across your skin. You tried to swallow, but your jaw throbbed with a dull ache. Only then did you realise how your body felt.

Every muscle burned, screaming at you for the slightest movement. You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the flashes of memories that crossed over the darkness as you did. You could still hear the hum of the battery, could still smell the blood.

“You’re awake.”

Jaemin’s voice was soft. His eyes watching you in the rearview mirror carefully.

“Hey.” You croaked out, your throat raspy and dry.

You fumbled with your seatbelt, eventually finding the strength to unclip it and pulling it off you. Placing both hands on the seat in front of you, you shakily climbed into the passenger seat. Jaemin kept one hand on the steering wheel, using the other to give you extra support.

You finally crashed down into the seat next to him, securing yourself once more before letting out a deep breath.

Jaemin’s eyes kept flickering towards you. He couldn’t get the image of you in that chair out of his head. The way it looked as though the world had finally broken you. His knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as he tried force the picture from his mind. 

You noticed the way Jaemin was looking over you. It happened every few seconds, as if he was afraid you were going to die next to him in the passenger seat. You looked over, catching his eyes already on you before they shifted back to the road.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “For coming. I don’t know what would have happened if-”

“Hey.” Jaemin cut you off. “Don’t say that. I wasn’t going to leave you behind. We’re a team, right?”

You smiled. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Right.”

Jaemin took a deep breath. He hated the way it shook as he exhaled, exposing the worry that was woven into his bones. You looked back over at him, and he couldn’t help but look back.

His brows were furrowed, concern carved into his expression. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them. His gaze held you with such gentleness and comfort it was like nothing you had ever felt before.

“Are you okay?” His voice trembled, as if he was afraid of the words.

You nodded, smiling back at him. “I’m okay, I just ache. I know a place off the books in the area, we can stop there for the night.”

He knew you were lying. He saw the way you held your ribs, heard the way you tried to stop your voice from shaking. Jaemin pulled the car over to the side of the road, coming to a stop and putting it in park. He sat there for a second before turning to face you fully, staring so deeply into your eyes you were sure he could see into your soul.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, more than physically?” His question was met with a heavy silence from you. “Talk to me. Nobody would be okay after that.”

You swallowed. You weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t really had time to think about it yourself yet, and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“I um... I’ll be fine.” You managed to stutter out. “We had some short training periods for things like this, I guess I just never thought I’d really experience it. All part of the job.”

Jaemin reached out, his hand stroking your cheek, gently pulling your eyes back towards him.

“That’s not the job princess.”

A tear slipped out. It dropped slowly down your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, leaning into Jaemin’s touch as his thumb began to wipe it away. He held your face in both hands now, looking at you as if he held his entire world.

“It was him. I mean, he trained me, taught me everything I know. He’s looked after me for years, and now he was trailing us, sending our location to Andras. That’s how we kept getting found.”

“I know.” Jaemin nodded, letting you cry.

“I don’t know if I should feel angry, or betrayed, or stupid for not seeing it earlier. I mean, I should have realised it. No one else could have kept up with us like that, and now we’ve lost time, and you put yourself in danger to find me and-”

“Princess.” Jaemin’s voice stopped your rant. He kept stroking your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours as he spoke. “Nothing could have stopped me from finding you. I would have searched to the ends of the earth. And I’m sorry. I should have got there faster. They shouldn’t have ever been allowed to touch you.”

You shook your head, your hand reaching up to hold his wrist.

“You got me out. And none of them can ever touch me again now.”

Jaemin’s head finally dropped, his eyes looking at the floor for the first time.

“I’d hoped you would never see me like that.” He confessed. The fragility in his voice hit you like a bullet.

“All I see is you.” You whispered.

His eyes lifted, finding your once more and seeing only truth in them.

“How can you look at me like that? After all I’ve done. Sometimes I can barely look at me. The way I’ve killed... even god doesn’t show redemption for that.”

“God may judge you. But his sins outnumber your own.”

Your words hung in the air between you, tightening the tethers that wove the two of you together. There was something between the two of you that was unbreakable now. The quiet understanding had morphed into a powerfully deep connection. The ability to see someone for who they truly are and what they stand for.

You didn’t see the heartless hitman who had been hunted for years.

You just saw Jaemin.

viii. one night off

The lock of the front door clicked, signifying its security as you walked further along the familiar corridors. Jaemin was a few steps behind, following silently. Neither of you had spoken much for the remainder of the journey, unless to discuss directions. Words felt too little.

“This house belonged to a friend of mine.” You began, reaching into a cabinet in the kitchen and pulling out a first aid box. “He used to work for our organisation, but he was Japanese so kept this house for whenever he came to visit home.”

“Was?” Jaemin’s question was tentative, as if he already knew the answer before you said it.

You sighed, placing the box down and opening it.

“He was killed two years ago.” Your voice was quiet as you continued. “It was a simple job, just a transport handoff, but he was ambushed.”

Jaemin’s hands covered yours, gently taking the antiseptic cream off you. He turned your hands over, exposing the wounds on your wrists where the zip ties were fastened and began slowly applying the medication as you were speaking.

“I was there. I was stuck up a building with a sniper rifle when they attacked. The client’s own men turned on him... neither of them ever stood a chance. It felt like I was up there just to watch. He left this place to me and I never told anyone. External bases are forbidden and it’s my last connection to him. There’s no way Andras’ will know this place exists.”

Jaemin nodded slowly, moving onto your other hand. You let out a small hiss at the sting from the contact. He slowed down, waiting for a sign from you that you were okay to keep going.

“I’m sorry about your friend.” He murmured.

“Me too. He was one of the good ones. The real good ones.” Your words were weighted. Now more than ever it was hard to know who the ‘good ones’ were.

Once he had finished, he held your hands in his. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, eyes speaking words you couldn’t breath aloud.

“There’s a shower upstairs, and spare clothes. There’s also some canned food here somewhere. I can find us something.”

Jaemin nodded at your words, letting you lead him up the stairs.

His eyes lingered on you as you disappeared into your own room, the door closing quietly as you faded from view. He didn’t move for a minute, his gaze locked on the door separating the two of you, and his body aching to walk through it and hold you close.

Every fibre of him longed to be beside you. His heart had never begged for anything the way it begged for you. His feet were glued to the floor, so close to giving in to everything he wanted, but just a whisper away from letting it happen.

He turned and walked into his own room.

---

The soup in front of you began to slowly bubble as you stirred in the last ingredients. You had found various foods in a storage cupboard, enough to make a quick vegetable soup from. The hot shower you had come out of had done wonders for your aching body, and you were looking forward to a good nights sleep.

Jaemin was silent as he made his way down the stairs, following the smells to find his way into the kitchen. He saw you standing there, your back to him, covered by a black tank top, the straps resting delicately on your shoulders.

He approached you slowly, his eyes scanning the visible parts of your skin that were littered with cuts and bruises. There were various scars too, some he could tell had been there for a long time, whether they were from early jobs or training Jaemin didn’t know. But there was one in particular that he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

It began on your shoulder blade, a jagged rip that travelled all the way up to the point where your neck met your shoulder.

You made no response as he moved a step closer, but he knew you knew he was there. You always knew when he was close. 

He stopped just behind you, his gaze fixed on that scar.

Jaemin knew a stab wound when he saw one. The edges were jagged and the texture rough, as if the knife went in clean and was wrenched out as you tried to move away.

His hand lifted before he was fully aware that it was moving, his fingertips lightly running down the skin, tracing it’s pattern.

You stopped stirring the pot in front of you, the feeling of him caressing the damages you carried was so intimate all you could do was blink.

“Who did this to you?” His voice a soft whisper. It carried so much worry, almost as if the thought of you being in this much pain hurt him.

“Someone after a client I was protecting. My client was evacuated and safe, and it meant they failed their mission. So they came after me for revenge. I don’t know anything about them... not even their name. But they left their mark on me.” Your eyes flickered down to your shoulder, where you knew your scar rested. “Permanently.”

Jaemin leaned down, pausing just above the skin. He wasn’t sure whether his next move was the best idea. That line he was all too aware of was screaming at him that he was too close, that he was about to cross it. But he couldn’t find it in him to listen anymore.

He lowered his head and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss on the scar.

You turned slowly, finding yourself right up against his chest. You tilted your head up, pressing your forehead to his.

Jaemin let out a deep breath, feeling the tensions in his body relax at the contact. His mind went quiet, and all he could focus on was you.

He pulled away first, taking a step back. A flash of fear passed through you, wondering if you’d stepped too far. But, instead, Jaemin reached for the neckline of his own shirt, and pulled it off over his head.

You sucked in a breath at the sight that greeted you.

His torso was littered with injuries, both old and new. Countless scars of varying sizes covered his body, each telling a different story.

Just as it did with him, one scar in particular stood out to you.

It ran across his waist, starting just beneath his belly button and stopping before it reached his side. You copied his earlier actions, softly tracing the line as you smiled to yourself.

“I’m sure whatever situation gave you this could have been avoided.” You mused, and Jaemin chuckled, his stomach muscles contracting under your fingers as he did. 

Jaemin’s hand found yours, stopping your movements as he curled his fingers around yours. He lifted your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the backs of your fingers. His eyes fluttered shut, as if your touch pulled him back to earth.

You freed your hand from his, seeing the way his eyes opened as you did. You moved it so it was now placed on his cheek. Your thumb carefully rubbed over the cut on his cheekbone, one he’d got during the fight in the museum.

He leaned into your touch, his head resting in your palm as his arms moved around your waist, closing the distance between your bodies.

Your spare hand lifted to rest on his shoulder, holding onto him just as he was with you.

You knew you should step back. That you should stop this before it was too late and you do something you can’t take back. But you couldn’t let yourself focus on that. You’d spent your entire life trying to do what you thought was the ‘right thing’, and when it all comes down to it, no one really knows what the right thing is. None of it matters in the long run. All that mattered was where you were now, and, more importantly, who you were with.

And all you knew was that you didn’t want this moment to end. And maybe that was reason enough to let it happen.

Your hand traced the short distance from his shoulder to his neck, your fingers curling around the back of it.

Jaemin watched you intensely, meeting your eyes as you lifted your gaze off his chest. 

Time stopped.

For a second nothing else existed. There was no deadline, no betrayals, no mission. The only thing that existed was the two of you.

Jaemin leaned down, his face stopping a whisper from you, eyes still watching you, giving you any chance to pull away.

This time you didn’t.

He finally closed the gap, pressing his lips softly to yours in a tender kiss. You leaned into it, your body leaning into him as you kissed him back.

The two of you moulded together as if you had been built to find each other. It was like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly. All the time you’d spent together and the tension that had been bubbling up had led to this moment. The moment where you could finally let it go and admit how deeply you cared for him.

His lips lingered against yours for a moment longer, memorising the way you felt. When he broke away, it wasn’t far. Just enough to breathe you in.

Neither of you spoke.

Jaemin rested his forehead back against yours, feeling at home there. His hands gripped onto you tightly, as if he was worried you would slip through his fingers if he let you go.

The two of you stood like that, breathing in the same air and letting the quiet settle around you like a blanket. The world outside could have been ending and neither of you would have known or cared.

Eventually, Jaemin pressed a smaller, softer kiss to the corner of your mouth. Not asking for more. Not pushing. Just… staying.

“Stay with me.” He whispered, letting his final walls crumble down around him. His voice was a soft plea, a sound of pure vulnerability you had never heard come from him.

“You’re not losing me.” You promised, hands holding him close.

It didn’t matter anymore. Any of it. It didn’t matter where the two of you had come from, or what your histories were.

All that mattered, was who you were together.

After all, you’re a team.

ix. you’re not safe yet

Two hours.

That was how long you had left to get Jaemin to the assembly building.

You’d set off early in the morning, the night before clinging to you like a stain you wouldn’t ever be able to rub off. The drive had been quiet so far, the air heavy with the knowledge you both held that your time together was slowly running out.

You were less that an hour away, and your nerves were alight with fire.

With every car you passed, any pedestrian that spared you a second glance, your adrenaline grew. Andras’ men were guaranteed to be hiding somewhere. You were too close for them not to show up.

With each second that passed, the danger grew.

Jaemin was feeling it too. You could tell from the way his eyes kept flickering from side to side, the way his hands moved around the wheels, gripping it tightly every now and then.

The two of you shared a look, turning into the main city.

This was the final stretch.

Maybe thirty minutes more and you’ll have made it.

Then Jaemin spotted something in the rearview mirror.

“We’re not alone.” He warned, and your head shot up, immediately catching what he was looking at.

Two black SUVs in perfect formation behind you. You didn’t doubt that they each carried around four or five men. They weren’t going to let you go without a fight.

“Go down there.” You instructed, pointing towards a parking structure.

Jaemin swung the car, making a sharp right and you unbuckled your seatbelt to lean out of the window as he did. You pulled your handgun into position, firing a few clean shots at the car.

“They’re bulletproof!” You shouted back at Jaemin, wind whipping through your hair.

“Try the wheels.” He replied, pressing his foot hard on the gas.

You did just as he said, aiming at the tires, looking for the gaps you could hit. Another round left your gun, firing exactly where you wanted to. The wheel began to smoke before exploding off, effectively launching one of the SUVs into the air before it crashed down on its side. 

You retreated back into the car, noting the smile Jaemin sent your way.

He sped through the parking structure, winding up and down levels until he circled back towards the exit. The second SUV, thrown off by the explosion, overshot the turn, momentarily losing your trail in the concrete maze. A sudden sense of relief crashed over you and you hit the dashboard in triumph. You could make it. 

Jaemin shot out of the parking garage, slamming on the breaks harshly as he skidded into a sudden U-turn.

The sudden motion hit you before you even realised what was happening. The force propelled you forward, sending you straight through the windscreen. Glass shattered around you at the impact as you flew over the bonnet and hit the ground, rolling hard before instinct pulled you onto your feet.

You spun back toward the car, your breath caught in your throat as the surprise movement. Jaemin’s expression was identical to yours, his eyes wide and jaw frozen open in shock.

“What happened to the seatbelt rule?” He demanded, worry bleeding into every word.

You opened your mouth to shoot back some reply, but gunfire cracked through the air, stopping you before you could.

You ducked, arms flying up to shield your head as you ran for the nearest cover. 

“Go!” You shouted over the chaos. “Jaemin, go!”

He hesitated, his jaw clenching in hatred of the idea of leaving you behind. But he knew staying put was a death sentence for both of you. Without another word he hit the gas, the tires screeching as he tore away and disappeared into the street.

“I am so done with being shot at.” You muttered to yourself, crouching down out of range.

Your heart was racing, your pulse thumping, but somehow you didn’t want it to stop. Because you knew that the moment the bullets stopped flying, you would have to let Jaemin go. So you would savour every life risking moment you had left with him.

You couldn’t see Jaemin anymore but you could hear him, the sound of tires screeching and faint shots gave away that he was still in trouble. But right now, so were you.

Jaemin’s knuckles were white with how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. He swore that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight after last time. And he hated how he had to break that promise.

His mind was racing with the possibilities of how to get out of this. He had been in some tough situations over the years, but he had never faced anything like the two of you had been facing. His thoughts strayed, flickering back to you. He hoped you were still breathing, still fighting.

The SUV was gaining on him, it was clearly the faster car and Jaemin knew he couldn’t out run this one. If he was going to survive, he needed to take them out.

He manoeuvred through the streets, overtaking cars and hiding behind others, trying anything that might buy him some time to think.

An exit approached, one Jaemin didn’t think twice about. He yanked the wheel, drifting across three lanes and exiting the main road. Cars honked at him as they were forced to brake to avoid a collision but Jaemin didn’t care.

He barely made the exit, crashing the front corner of the car into it as he passed. The bonnet was now bent at an unusual angle and a wing mirror was missing. Jaemin sent a silent apology to whoever’s car it was originally and pressed on.

His foot was still pressed to the floor, urging the smaller vehicle he was in to go at its max speed. A quick glance in the rearview mirror told him they were still on his trail.

The speed sign read 30mph but Jaemin ignored it, leaning on his own horn to warn pedestrians as he hurtled down the suburban lane. Picturesque houses sat on either side of the road, passing in a white blur.

The SUV was still gaining on him, and in a moment they would be close enough to fire. Jaemin needed something to give him the upper hand, and he needed it soon.

Another signpost flashed past, one Jaemin didn’t have time to read. Only when his eyes focused on the road ahead did he realise that he really should have read it.

A row of speed bumps lay in his path.

Jaemin didn’t have a choice. If he went over these at his current speed it could wreck the car, but if he slowed down, the SUV was guaranteed to run into the back of him and that would probably total the car.

“Oh god.” Jaemin grimaced, tightening his hands on the steering wheel once more as he braced himself for impact.

He hit the first bump, flying over it, the bonnet lifting slightly as he did, before landing with a small crash.

The impact jerked Jaemin forwards, but luckily the car kept going. The needle on the speedometer wavered and rocked, but it stayed true.

The SUV followed, its faster speed meaning it had more airtime than Jaemin did. It landed shakily, the driver instantly corrected the car, steadying it as they powered on. There was a flash from the passenger’s seat, probably a weapon.

The second speed bump was fast approaching and Jaemin held his breath. He could hear your voice in his head, telling him a million other ways he could have escaped them.

This time the bonnet flew up so high it covered the windscreen, blocking his view as he came back down to the ground.

As the bonnet landed, Jaemin saw a large fruit stand right in front of him.

“Fruit?” Jaemin yelled out loud to no one in particular.

His hand smacked down onto the horn again, just giving enough warning for the merchant to throw himself out of the way as Jaemin drove straight through his cart.

Various strawberries and bananas bounced off the car, but he kept going.

“I hate strawberries.” He muttered to himself. Of all the things to crash into.

He risked another look back, seeing the SUV sway to avoid the larger fruits that now decorated the road. The front of the car was showing damage, and there was even a small crack in the windscreen. It rolled over a melon, crushing it underneath the heavy tires and began to catch up on Jaemin once more.

The third and final speed bump came racing toward him, and it was here that Jaemin noticed a detail in the road ahead.

It narrowed.

Jaemin pressed on, driving at full speed towards the bump. He hit it full on, flying into the air and landing harshly. As he landed the bonnet, which had been holding on for dear life, flew free and broke off the car.

Jaemin risked a look behind him, watching as it collided with the SUV, turning the small crack in the windscreen into a large spiderweb of fragile glass.

This seemed to shake the driver, who hit the third speed bump at an angle, causing the car to lean as it flew into the air. For a split second it looked like they were going to stick the landing. Then the suspension buckled and the SUV crashed defeatedly on its side.

A whoop of glee left Jaemin at the scene.

As he disappeared into the tunnel ahead of him, the sounds of sirens and gunfire faded behind him.

Across town, you weren’t so lucky.

You burst through the back doors of the Michelin-star kitchen, knocking over a stack of pristine copper pots. You grabbed the a frying pan to use as a weapon, right as three armed men crashing in after you.

One chef shrieked, another fainted, and you didn’t even have time to apologise before the nearest gunman lunged.

His arm flew up, a bullet leaving his gun in your direction. You threw yourself behind a prep counter, various half chopped leeks and onions flying as bullets hit them.

The gunman chased you, rounding the corner just as you popped up, swinging with all your might at his gun hand.

You sent it straight towards the ceiling just as he fired again, forming a small hole where the bullet entered.

“The ceiling!” The head chef screamed, his eyes wide and staring.

The chefs were frozen, staring at the violence in front of them until one finally snapped out of their daze.

“Everyone out! Go, go, go!”

The entire staff evacuated through the front door, panicked and stumbling over their own feet.

A passing line cook grabbed his prized clever and tried to sneak past and you swerved behind him as he ran for the exit. The same man tried to chase you, but his feet hit a patch of oil that had been dropped on the commotion and his legs slid out from under him.

He hit the ground, hard, and lay there still.

One down, two to go.

The second man stalked towards you, and you backed up. Your eyes were flying over the scene, trying to find anything you could use as a secondary weapon.

Something hit your back, and you heard the sizzling of oil behind you. An idea formed, not your most professional idea but an idea nonetheless. 

You reached behind, grabbing the fryer basket and hurling the contents at the man in front of you. Splatters of oil and half-done fries flew into his face. He stumbled backwards, tripping over the chef that had passed out when you entered as he did.

You took the spare second to pivot, dipping your cast iron pan into the vat of hot oil, letting it fill. As the man closed in on you again, you flung the oil at him, the pan itself slipping from your grasp as you did.

It hit him square in the forehead, screams leaving his mouth as the oil soaked his face and the front of his body.

You lifted a leg, kicking with force, sending him toppling back over the chef once more, who luckily had missed the oil splatter. The man crashed down, clawing at his skin. 

You turned, seeing the third guy ready for you, and you moved in to meet him.

You walked through the pastry section, stainless steel counters surrounding you with two rolling pins placed delicately on a shelf, as if they were waiting for you.

Armed with one in each hand, you stepping forward, wood clashing against metal as you worked to knock the gun out of his hand. As long as he had that, he had the upper hand.

One harsh strike, placed just right and your rolling pin collided with his gun, knocking it out of his hand and shattering the rolling pin at the same time.

You turned the other one, using the butt of it to hit him in the face. Just as you did, you caught sight on the words written on the bottom.

‘For display use only’

Typical.

You dropped the one and a half you were holding, opting instead for the sauce pans lids you saw resting on the hob opposite.

By this point, the mad had recovered enough to pull out his knife.

This time it was steel on steel.

Using them as mini shields you blocked and redirected his attacks. In the corner of your eye you spotted the first man getting back on his feet. You couldn’t let it be two against one. Not when you didn’t have Jaemin as backup.

You ducked another attack, sending a harsh blow into his stomach with your elbow. He doubled over and you shot up, standing over him.

You brought the metal lids together over his head, knocking him out like you were clapping a cymbal.

You couldn’t help but think that Jaemin would be so proud of you if he saw you right now. You hoped you both lived long enough to tell him about it.

You ran back around the kitchen, tracing your steps, making small jumps over the bodies and pools of oil. The door was in sight. The only obstacle being the last man standing.

The first guy stalked towards you, a hunger for vengeance in his eyes. 

He’d found another gun, probably off his friend, and his fingers curled around the handle menacingly. You noticed the red spot where you’d hit him with the frying pan, his knuckles bent almost inwards from the impact.

You reached a hand out for anything, fingers closing around the first thing you found. You pulled it in front of you to defend yourself, and only then did you see what you’d grabbed as the weapon to make your final stand with.

A baguette.

This was all you had so you’d have to make do.

All ideas escaped you, your mind empty as your tried desperately to come up with a plan. Then four words shot through your head, four words that changed the way you looked at your situation entirely.

What would Jaemin do?

You acted on impulse, throwing the baguette straight at the man in front of you. It was an ineffective weapon, but a welcome distraction.

The man flinched instinctively, giving you the second you needed to close the distance between the two of you.

You dipped a hand in a passing bag of flour as you ran, using that as another small diversion. The flour hit him in the eyes, clouding his vision for the second you needed to grab a spare apron off the wall.

In one fast motion you wrapped it around the man’s neck, twisting and manoeuvring so you were stood behind him, tightening the cloth as much as you could.

The man struggled hard though, almost throwing you off balance with how he was thrashing around. His arm was raised, trying to aim blindly behind him. 

Using your free hand, you tried to force his gun away from you, but he was too strong. He slowly pushed back, the barrel inching closer and closer to your face.

Just then, you clocked his legs. His feet were wide, opening his legs.

You rammed a knee upward, hitting him straight in between his legs.

A strangle groan escaped him and his legs gave out and he fell to his knees. You pushed back against his hand, aiming the gun to his own temple and pushed down on his finger with yours, forcing him to fire on himself.

His body crumpled, falling face down onto the kitchen floor. 

You gasped for air, hands resting on your thighs as you leaned down.

The sound of various meats sizzling and soups bubbling mixed with your heavy breaths. You looked around, taking in the destruction around you and your eyes landed on the clock.

Half an hour left.

Your feet moved before your mind did, sprinting towards the back door you’d entered through.

You flung them opened just as a car pulled up outside. It was battered, dented and missing part of it, but there, in the drivers seat, grinning at you, sat Jaemin.

‘God, he’s unkillable.’ You though to yourself.

A huge smile broke out on your face at the sight of him. He was alive.

“Perfect timing.” You mused, climbing into the seat next to him.

“Just for you princess.” He replied, his hand reaching over to grab yours, squeezing them reassuringly as the car sputtered as it started up again.

There would be no more fights, no more guns. The assembly building was in sight, but inside it sat the greatest threat to the two of you.

Andras.

x. moment of truth

The car holding on by a single thread. It jerked and cough the last few miles to the assembly building. The scent of petrol fumes were overpowering, and you’d spent the last part of the journey holding your shirt over your mouth so you didn’t breath it in.

Jaemin pulled up by the front door, armed guards watching you both intensely. You pushed open your door, ignoring the way it fell off its hinges at the force.

It made a clanging noise as it hit the ground, one you both left behind you as you walked towards the steps.

“State your business.” One of the guards instructed, his gun aimed and ready.

You held up your hands, using one to gesture to Jaemin.

“I’m y/n y/l/n. This is Na Jaemin. He has a testimony to give. You’re expecting us.” You explained, your feet itching to move.

Another guard made a call on his radio, too far away for you to make out the response he got through the static.

Time was running out. The two of you had five minutes to get inside.

At last there was a wave, and the first guard lowered his gun, gesturing you two inside.

You both ran up the steps, the left over adrenaline carrying you through. immediately inside the door stood a metal detector.

Its high pitched siren wailed as you and Jaemin walked through, both of you groaning at the realisation.

“No weapons.” The first guard had followed you up. He pointed to a few grey boxes and you both back to unload.

You had barely anything on you, having been surviving by the skin of your teeth. You placed your single, empty, handgun in the tray and made to move but Jaemin was still going.

He took out two knives, two handguns, and a spare cartilage of bullets, leaving you amazed.

“Where do you hide all of those?” You wondered aloud, and he simply winked at you in response.

The guard escorted you through the building, turning corners and hurrying down halls.

Finally you reached a large set of double doors. He nodded at the two of you, stepping back to allow you to enter.

You and Jaemin stood there, the weight of what this mean crushing you both.

He turned to look at you, his gaze catching yours.

You smiled at him, and he returned with his own, only this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Lets end this.” You told him and he nodded.

You pushed on the door, opening it up to a large room.

The seats were laid out in a circular fashion, a panel at the opposite end of the room to where you were standing in the doorway, and a small table with a single chair in the middle.

All voices suddenly stilled. The head judge looked down at the two of you form where she was sitting, taking in your bruised and blood splattered appearances.

“Na Jaemin.” Her words were drawn out, like his name alone could bring evil.

Whispers flew around the room. So many people had heard of him but never laid eyes on the man himself. Jaemin didn’t flinch, just looking back at her with a calmness you could barely replicate.

“Just in time. Take a seat.” She gestured to the table in the middle of the room, and Jaemin began to walk.

You stepped to the side, leaning back against the wall.

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the left side of the room and watched as the second hand ticked past the twelve o’clock mark. The judge was right, you were just in time.

You gaze drifted down to land on the man himself. Andras. He was leaning back in his chair, looking too comfortable for the situation he was in. His back hair swept out of his eyes, giving you a full view of the ice cold stare he had locked on Jaemin. It was the only thing that hinted at worry.

A few rows down, sat your boss. Your hands tensed by your side as you locked eyes with him. You crossed your arms, staring back defiantly and watched as he shifted in his chair. You boss looked away and you clenched your jaw.

You wouldn’t let him get out of this one either.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” One of the other three judges asked.

“Yeah.” Jaemin replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

You could only imagine what he had up his sleeve.

The prosecutor stood up as Jaemin took his seat, ready to begin the questioning.

“Your name is Na Jaemin?” He began, walking slowly in a small circle around Jaemin’s chair.

“Correct.” Jaemin was leaning forward, his hand folded on table in front of him as his gaze shifted between the head judge and the prosecutor. 

“Your mother is Na Seungyoon and your father is Park Eunhyuck?” The question continued, but Jaemin’s answer stopped his pacing.

“No.” On the outside Jaemin looked just as calm and collected as ever. But you noticed the way his fingers folded in on themselves. “My parents separated when I was nine, Park Eunhyuck is my step father. My real father's name is Na Younghoon, a florist. He was killed a few years later in his own shop.”

Your arms slowly unfolded as the revelation hit you.

Jaemin’s first job hadn’t been tracking down some random murdered from the town he grew up in. It had been taking revenge on the man who killed his father.

“I’m sorry.” The prosecutor stuttered out, his body turning towards Jaemin who simply shrugged.

“That’s okay. You can’t research everything.”

A second a silence fell over the room, everyone waiting for what the next revelation would be.

“Mr Na, where you ever in the employment of Andras?” The prosecutor asked.

Jaemin turned to look at where Andras was sitting, the smile that barely touched his face before now stretching out into that grin you knew and loved.

“No.”

“Have you ever met Andras?”

“Yes.” Andras readjusted his suit as Jaemin began to talk, fixing buttons that didn’t need to be fixed. “November 24th 2023 he invited me to his office. Said he had a job for me. He wanted me to take out an exiled political rival that was hiding in the United Kingdom. I refused.”

“Why is that?” The lawyer pressed, his steps slowing as he appeared in front of Jaemin again. 

“Because while I was there I watched him order his soldiers to slaughter a farming village a few miles from the city. I’m not on board with killing innocent people.”

Jaemin’s eyes never left Andras, as if he was challenging him to disagree. There was something else in them too, that look of disgust that you recognised from your conversation on the boat.

“Do you have any proof to support this claim?”

“Yes. Go to ‘www.andrasyafc.com. It’s all there.” Jaemin finally looked away, blinking once in surprise when he saw how close the prosecutor had gotten to him.

A woman in the front row pulled up a laptop. She pulled in a cable allowing the screen to mirror onto the projection board for evidence. The sound of keys clicking echoed around the room until it came to a sudden stop.

“It’s asking for a password.” Her voice was soft, like she was trying to keep it steady.

You didn’t blame her. Your whole body was tense, short breaths leaving you as you waited to see what evidence Jaemin had. This needed to get Andras sentenced if he was going to get his deal. And you would not rest until he got it.

“Oh sorry.” Jaemin pointed up at the screen, writing out what he was saying. “Try ‘Gotcha’ with a capital ‘G’.”

The sound of typing filled the room once more, then the loading sign appeared on the screen. Gradually the pictures began to appear, flooding the room with vision of pure horror.

You watched as photo after photo showed Andras and his soldiers surrounding his citizens. There were photos of the mass graves, pictures of soldiers pushing people with their guns, even one photo of Andras holding a gun to the back of someone’s head as they stood on their knees.

Your jaw dropped and the room burst in sound. People gasping, some letting out small sobs yet Jaemin just leant back in his chair, satisfied.

You watched Andras carefully, seeing him inhale deeply, his jaw tensing as each irrefutable piece of evidence materialised in front of him. His gaze drifted upwards, to something in the top row of seats and he nodded.

It was so small you barely noticed it, but something about it set every nerve in your body alight. 

The room was still alive with discussion when Andras stood up.

“Your honour, if I may address the room?” He spoke, his voice authoritative and commanding. 

The judge nodded and people quieted down, all on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“For the past few weeks I have been sitting in this chair listening as person after person has claimed I have done apparently terrible things. I know my lawyer was planning to get me acquitted, but now, thanks to Na Jaemin that is not going to be possible.”

He turned to look pointedly at Jaemin and if looks could kill anyone else would have been dead. But Jaemin just winked back in response.

“If I may save all of us some time, all the charges brought against me are entirely correct.”

The room erupted once more, shouts and accusations thrown around as victims of Andras’ abuse stood and screamed. Guards leapt into action, moving through the room, trying to reach him as Andras kept going, shouting over everyone else.

“I am the rightful ruler of my country and I will act as I see fit. And I will not be told what to do by anyone.”

By now the judge was yelling for order, the guards had finally reached him, holding him by one arm each, completely restricting his movements but nothing was going to stop his words.

“I recognise no higher authority or power. And I will not be silenced like this!”

After his final line, a loud bang jolted the room, throwing people off their feet. The windows imploded and dust blew in from the streets.

The shockwave knocked you down and you landed on your hands and knees. The floor rippled beneath you, aftershock running through the concrete.

Something had explode outside. Something big.

Your head was ringing slightly, a feeling you were too familiar with by now to be thrown by. You found your feet quickly, looking around for Jaemin.

He had been thrown from his seat, landing sideways on the floor, his chair discarded next to him. Dust settled on his shoulders and speckled his hair, but he was pulling his legs underneath him, preparing to stand.

Jaemin pulled himself up, eyes shooting back to where Andras was.

The men restraining him had been knocked over, losing their grip on him in the process.

Andras locked eyes with Jaemin and moved fast.

He reached down, pulling a gun out from one of the guards waistbands, and aiming.

Jaemin stared him down, his body melting into a feeling that was unnervingly new to him.

A strange, hollow awareness that the gun was pointed at him overcame him. That the trigger was already half-pulled. That there wasn’t enough time to move.

So… this was it.

The thought didn’t come as a sentence, more like a quiet settling inside him. A weight sliding into place. He’d always wondered if death would feel loud. Maybe it was dramatic, like some kind of roaring finale as the curtains fell. But instead everything softened. Slowed. Like the world was exhaling.

The gun glinted, and behind it, Jaemin saw flashes of the life he had lived.

He’d done a lot things he wasn’t proud of. And enjoyed things he knew he shouldn’t. But he’d tried. He’d spent his whole life trying to be a good person in a bad world. To be worth something to someone.

To be worth something to you.

It wasn’t courage, what he felt now. Not really. It was exhaustion. He’d given everything he had and there was nothing left to fight with.

He didn’t want to die. God, he didn’t. Not when he’d finally found someone who made life feel like something worth living. Someone who made it feel like something he didn’t want to let go of.

At least you were safe. At least the truth was out. At least he’d kept his promise this time.

Even if it would end this way, Jaemin would do it all over again in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t risk a version of life that didn’t have you in it. You reminded him of who he was, even when he had lost sight of that a long time ago. And, for the first time in his life, Jaemin had found someone he was willing to protect. Willing to fight for.

So if Andras was going to kill him, Jaemin would be damned if he went down anyway other than defiantly.

His eyes narrowed in bold defiance, watching as the bullet finally left the gun.

A body slammed into him from the left, covering him as it tackled him to the ground.

You knocked the wind from his lungs, taking him down with such force it took him a second to realise what was happening.

He sat up, pride and relief flooding his system as he realised that you had saved his life for the last time.

But as he sat up, he noticed the large red patch on his shirt.

His heart stopped beating for a second. Not because he had been hit, but because he hadn’t.

He flipped over, finding you lying on your back next to him, coughing as the blood spread across your stomach.

“Princess? No, no, no, no, no-” He held his hands down on your wound, trying as best he could to stop the bleeding. He repeated the word over and over, as if he was arguing with the world itself.

You were breathing heavily, eyes darting around the room, but Jaemin’s shaky hand grabbed your face.

“Look at me.” He commanded but you shook your head.

“Andras-” You croaked out.

“I don’t care about that. I care about you!” Jaemin shouted, his voice almost breaking at the end.

“We need a medic!” His whole body was trembling, eyes wide with panic.

There was too much blood, and it wasn’t stopping. Jaemin didn’t know what to do. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked rapidly, shakily exhaling as he pressed down harder on your wound, guilt rippling through him as you winced at the added pressure.

But this time it was your turn to be calm

You lifted your hands, placing one on top of his and the other on his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. Your hands left smeared blood where they went, marking his face.

He met your gaze, his voice fading away as he understood the intensity of your stare.

“I did my job. Now go do yours.” You instructed, nodding towards the door.

Jaemin looked over his shoulder, seeing Andras being dragged outside by your boss, no doubt to an escape route.

He turned back to you, hesitating. He couldn’t leave you, not like this. Not when you had taken a bullet for him.

But your eyes had that same fire in them. That look that told him you would never forgive him if he let Andras get away.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m coming back for you.” He whispered. “You hear me? I’m coming back.”

Medics arrived, falling to their knees beside you as they pushed Jaemin back.

Jaemin stood, his gaze as cold as ice and fixed on the door Andras has ran out of. He moved fast, setting off in a run to catch up. Some guard tried to stop him, to put him in cuffs, but Jaemin barely registered it.

One elbow to the back of the head was all it took to send the guard down, and Jaemin grabbed one of his guns, keeping moving.

He barely broke stride as he exited the room, following the sounds of footsteps that travelled up the stairs. Jaemin knew Andras wouldn’t go out the front door, so that only left the roof.

He looked down at the gun that he was holding and his eyes fixed on your blood that stained his hands.

His focus sharpened into one definitive thought.

He was going to end this.

The steps disappeared underneath him, morphing into a blur. Jaemin’s vision was locked on the door ahead of him. It was still ajar, a breeze drifting in, blowing the hair gently out of his eyes.

Jaemin pulled on the door, walking menacingly onto the roof. The sun bared down on him, wind whipped around his hair, but he didn’t feel any of it. He saw two figures halfway across the roof, running towards the helicopter that was circling the rooftop, waiting for the perfect moment to land.

Jaemin didn’t hesitate, pulling his gun into position and fired twice.

One figure went down immediately, the other stumbling out of sight.

He stalked forward, reaching the body on the ground.

Your boss lay there, blood forming at the sides of his mouth as he bled out. Fear flashed through his eyes as he recognised Jaemin standing above him.

Jaemin tilted his head mockingly before lifting the gun and firing again, this time a kill shot.

That was for you.

The helicopter circled again, getting dangerously low to the point where Jaemin could see the pilot in the drivers seat. He took a breath to steady himself, and right as the helicopter came for him, he fired multiple shots.

The helicopter swerved, suddenly diving and Jaemin threw himself out of the way, rolling out of the range of damage before standing, watching as the helicopter crashed onto the roof, exploding into a ball of flame.

The heat warmed Jaemin’s face, and as he watched the wreckage, his senses tingled.

He turned on his heel, coming face to face with Andras.

The helicopter was still burning behind him as the two men stared each other down. They were at a stalemate, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Jaemin lifted the gun and fired his final shot.

Andras yelled in pain, his right leg buckling underneath him as he hit the ground. His hand clasped his knee, blood seeping through his fingers.

“Up on the ledge.” Jaemin instructed, waving his gun towards the edge of the roof that was just behind Andras.

Andras shuffled backwards, pulling himself up and sitting on the small ledge with his back to the street below. He sat there, hissing through his teeth as he watched Jaemin walk towards him.

“Look at you. Na Jaemin, all ready to be the hero. To kill me and save the day. Killing me won’t change anything about you. There is no redemption, no atonement for a man who has done the things you’ve done. Your whole life has been nothing but a trail of corpses, and I will never be more than another dead body on the pile. This will never change who you are.”

The men held an intense stare, as if daring the other one to back down.

Then Jaemin burst out laughing. His body hunched forward as Andras’ stare morphed into one of disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?” Jaemin laughed. “I don’t care about any of that.”

His face dropped, fixing Andras with an icy stare and his voice turned serious as he uttered his next words, pausing between the final three to punctuate his point.

“You fucked up, when you shot my girl.”

Andras barely had time to react before Jaemin’s foot found his chest, kicking him with all his strength. A scream left Andras as he tumbled backwards off the roof, falling for a few seconds until his body crashed on the top of a nearby car, cutting off his voice.

Jaemin leaned over the edge of the rooftop, satisfaction creeping over him at the sight of the man dead. He couldn’t hurt any more people.

Jaemin could leave him for someone else to deal with, right now he needed to check on you.

You were lying on a stretcher, a drip in your arm, giving you blood, and an oxygen mask over your face. The world was fading in and out of blurriness, but you couldn’t pass out, not until you knew Jaemin was safe.

The stretcher you were on was suddenly lifted, stacked into the back of an ambulance and you grabbed the closest paramedic’s arm.

His head snapped towards you, instantly going to check your wound, but you shook your head, reaching up a hand to pull your mask down.

“Jaemin?” You whispered. “Where is he?”

The paramedic smile sympathetically at you, trying to reattach your mask.

“You need to keep this on, y/n.” He instructed, but you shook your head again.

“I need to see him, I promised-”

The sound of raised voices from outside stopped you in your tracks. You knew that voice, the one calling out for you, demanding to know if you were alive.

Jaemin.

Your hand gripped the paramedic again.

“Let him in. Please.” You begged.

He sighed, looking back towards to the door.

“Let me see what I can do.”

With that he stood, opening the back door again and climbing out. As the door swung open you caught a glimpse of the view of the street, seeing Jaemin being held back by two guards as he tried to push his way through.

There was no anger on his face, just worry and almost desperation.

Jaemin could barely handle the possibility that they might not let him through. He had to see you one last time, had to say goodbye.

“She wants to talk to him.” A paramedic suddenly appeared, his hand pulling one of the guards off Jaemin easily. “Without either of them Andras would still be in power, I think we can grant them this one request, don’t you?”

The guards paused, both looking back and forth between the paramedic and each other. 

“Fine.” One of them muttered. “But he’s wearing these.”

A pair of handcuffs were dangled in front of his face. Jaemin sighed, but held his hands out all the same. The metal tightened around his wrists, a feeling he was all too familiar with.

Reality was crashing down, and it was crashing down hard.

The guards stepped to the side, and the paramedic brought him forwards.

“I can’t give you long. A few minutes maximum so make the most of it. She’s stable right now and it looks like she’s going to make a full recovery.”

“Thank you.” Jaemin said earnestly, grateful the paramedic had taken the time to answer the questions he hadn’t been bold enough to ask.

The door was opened for him, and there you lay. You were on your back, hooked up to various machines, but you were awake and your head turned to him as he entered.

He took the small space next to you, sitting in line with your shoulders, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Hey princess.” He smiled sadly, looking into your eyes that were already welling up.

Your lip trembled as you tried, and failed, to hold back tears.

“Don’t cry.” He shushed you, hiding the way his own eyes were stinging. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You can’t promise me that.” You whispered, trying not to look at the cuffs on his wrists. “Jaemin you’re going to be locked up for life.”

He tutted at your statement, stroking some hair out of your eyes.

“Not anymore thanks to this. I got my deal. Plus, I have good behaviour, you never know. I also have a lot more dirt on people I can exchange, maybe I’ll end up with community service.”

You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped you at that. 

“We could use someone like you working for us.” You thought aloud. Your organisation would need to rebuild after this. You’d need new people, people you could trust. “You’re one of the good guys.”

Jaemin swallowed at that, his hands grabbing yours, holding them tightly.

“Maybe one day.” His voice was a whisper now. “Don’t give up on me princess. You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

You couldn’t let him go. You knew you had to, you’d known the whole time that this was how it was going to end, but now the moment was finally here, you couldn’t do it.

“I’ll fight for you.” You vowed, making a promise to both yourself and him that you would never leave him behind. Just as he never left you behind.

“I know you will.”

Jaemin leaned down again, pausing above your face to look into your eyes. No one could stare into your soul the way Jaemin could. And you didn’t ever want anyone else to be able to. That was for his eyes only.

You squeezed his hand, pulling it closer as a signal.

Jaemin listened, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing you. His lips were soft against yours, but salty with the taste of the tears he had been fighting so hard to stop from falling.

He pulled away slowly, his eyes still closed as he let out a shaky breath.

The back door was pulled open, the paramedic standing there.

“It’s time to go.” Was all he said, before turning around and waiting for Jaemin to exit.

Jaemin sighed, his hands beginning to tremble as he started to pull them from yours.

You tightened your grip around him as he stood, bringing his eyes back to yours one last time.

“Jaemin, I-” You stuttered out, and he squeezed your hands back.

“I know princess.” Another sad smile framed his features. “I do too.”

There they were. The words neither of you could bring yourselves to say out loud.

I love you.

His hands slipped from your grasp and he turned his back on you to exit the ambulance. His shoulders sagged in defeat as he stepping back on the tarmac. 

The paramedic climbed back inside, reaching for the door to close it behind him as the engine revved to life.

Jaemin look back, catching your eyes one final time.

Even from here he could still see the tears glistening in them, and he held your eyes until they were taken from him. The harsh sound of the door to the ambulance shutting echoed around his head.

The sun beamed down on him, glinting off the silver cuffs he wore as he watched them drive you away.

He knew you wouldn’t give up on him. And he wouldn’t give up on you.

No matter how far you were from each other, you were part of him. Possibly the best part of him.

And he was never going to let you go.

xi. we do things my way

You shuffled the papers on your desk, organising them into a neat pile that you cold file away. You stood, your chair rolling backwards as you walked towards your bookshelf. Rows upon rows of binders were packed in there, each holding cases belonging to each agent. Your fingers hovered over your own binder, the one that held the story dearest to you.

You moved past it, withdrawing the one next to it instead. Your ears tuned into the news playing on the television on the wall of your office as you returned to your desk.

“With another infamous anonymous testimony sealing their fate, Tate makes the tenth public figure to be exposed for abuse of power and social injustice. No one knows where these testimonies are coming from, or how they have their evidence, but the world is grateful for them.”

Ten figures in six months. It was remarkable. He may be anonymous to the rest of the world but you recognised Jaemin’s work when you saw it.

A knock on your door shook you out of your memories.

“Come in.” You called out, and your assistant walked inside, holding some more papers for you.

Ever since you had taken over the organisation you used to work for the paper work had tripled. Each day brought more documents to sign or read over.

“Sorry to interrupt Ma’am.” She spoke quickly, her shoulders tight with nerves.

“No need to apologise.” You smiled warmly at her, offering her the seat in front of your desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I thought you would appreciate an update on the rebuild.” She began, accepting your invitation to sit. “So far we have stellar reviews from clients, and the new training facility is in its final stages of development. You should be ready to start training new officers there within the next two to three months.”

“Fantastic.” You said.

The new training building was a project you were proud of. To help your officers prepare for all situations, there were areas to develop all kinds of skills. And even a section to help them deal with grief and loss. It was part of the job, and you didn’t want anyone to learn about it the way you did.

“Also, the new sniper arrived a few minutes ago, they’re ready when you are. I have their papers here, I’ll leave them for you to decide if you want to sign them after the interview.” You assistant finished, standing again and carefully placing the sheets on your desk for you.

“Thank you.” You stood yourself. “Send them in. Alone”

She blinked in surprise at the request but nodded anyway, heading back towards the door.

Your heart began to speed up as you waited for the new hire to enter your office. You walked over to the floor to ceiling windows that covered your office, gazing out at the view.

Your office stood over the heart of Seoul, and you got to spend every day looking down on the people you swore you would protect. You could see most of the city from here, yet you only ever had one person on your mind.

The door clicked as it opened once more and footsteps entered the room.

Footsteps that wouldn’t be audible unless on purpose.

You recognised the breathing pattern and his familiar scent filled the room.

You grinned at the sound of his voice. That voice that sent shivers down your spine.

“Hello princess.”

[alicanta77]

Don’t really have the words to describe how I feel about the election results in the UK at the moment….

This is why your vote matters.

[alicanta77]

i've just started moving some writings onto ao3 and god it's hard to figure out

[alicanta77]

did i get carried away and plan a full hunger games au series for all nct dream boys...

yes... yes i did

seven boys, seven district partners, all in the same arena... one winner

[alicanta77]

yes his departure is such a hard pill to swallow, it’ll never be the same without mark, we’re witnessing the end of the nct we’ve known.. his name is indissociable from the group, i don’t know how we, they, will come back from that.. he’s leaving and he’s taking a huge part of what the group is along with him, it’s a bittersweet farewell :/ that being said, it must have come to a point of no return for him to take that decision and it is to respect, hope he’ll find what he’s looking for in his future endeavours. we miss you already mark 🤍

absolutely, you phrased that so well nct will not be the same without him - just like dream wasnt in 2018-2020 but they did so well and still were fantastic. mark is nct for a reason. and losing him... i mean we will notice it, anyone would. it's so bittersweet but they had an amazing round of last concerts and i hope he enjoys these last few days with the boys

i'm sure this has been on his mind for ages, this wouldn't be something you decide on within a month i mean i wouldn't be surprised to hear he's been thinking about it for years actually. but at the end of the day he is doing what is best for him, he has worked non stop for ten years straight (and training before) and barely had time off so he needs a break to recover. and i hope he knows all nctzens are so proud that he has been able to put himself first and take that time he needs. we know that whatever mark does he will do amazingly so i'm excited to see what his next journey is and we will miss him everyday but also support him everyday as well <333

[alicanta77]

Mark chose door three

[alicanta77]

Can’t believe we only have one week left with mark…

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: Back Scratches

Mark:

Mark is gone the second your nails touch his back.

He doesn't even realise how much he loves it until your nails start running up and down his back while you're lying on the sofa together one evening.

And Mark just stops talking.

You look down and he's already half asleep.

"Mark? You were literally telling a story." You nudged him gently, smiling down at him.

"Hmm... yeah... hold on..." He mumbled. He tries so hard to stay awake because he was saying something important, but they way your nails move slowly across his back just melts every muscle in his body.

It was like the whole day melted off him, his face stilled and his body sank into you with every breath he took.

You watch the tension leave him piece by piece.

Your fingers drift lazily up the length of his back and Mark lets out another soft sigh. His head slips a little further down your shoulder, resting heavily against your neck.

"You were talking about the studio?" You reminded him, and he shifted slightly in response, getting even closer to you.

"Right... I was saying if the bass came in later, maybe after the-"

His voice trailed off again as your nails traced down his back once more. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at the sight.

"I'm thinking." He mumbled in response to your soft giggles.

Your hand moves without thinking, tracing your nails lightly down his spine. Mark moves even closer, his arms tightening around you instinctively.

One more slow scratch down his back, and he's gone.

His breath evened out, warm against your collarbone as his weight sinks fully into you.

You glance down and Mark is fully asleep. You watch him fondly, stroking some hair out of his face gently.

Mark doesn't stir once while you admire him, if anything, he sinks deeper into you.

Your fingers keep moving absentmindedly across his back.

Judging from the way Mark keeps sinking into you, you don't think he'll be waking up any time soon.

Renjun:

Renjun unknowingly turns it into a game.

You're lying on the sofa together, a tv show playing in the background that neither of you are really watching. He's lying half on top of you, while your hands reach for his back without realising and starting to absentmindedly draw patterns.

You barely noticed you were doing it until Renjun lifted his head and looked up at you.

"What are you drawing?" He asked and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"I'm not drawing anything."

"Yes, you are." He countered. "Do it again."

You started to move your fingers around again, this time with a picture in mind.

Renjun hummed thoughtfully as he began to guess.

"A star?"

"Nope."

"A flower?"

"No."

Renjun looked up again. "What was that?"

You grinned down at him. "A dinosaur."

Renjun immediately groaned, dropping his head back down into your shoulder.

"That was not a dinosaur."

From that moment on, it becomes your thing.

Whenever you're sitting together, your nails end up tracing shapes across his back while Renjun tries to guess what you're drawing. Sometimes he gets them instantly.

Other times he’s completely convinced he’s right when he couldn't be further from the answer.

Then one evening, Renjun decides it's his turn.

You're both sitting on the floor during a rare night off when Renjun suddenly disappears. When he reappears he's holding his paints.

You don't say anything, instead choosing to simply raise an eyebrow at him in question.

He places a towel down behind you, leans in and softly kisses your neck as he whispers in your ear.

"Trust me."

Ten minutes later you're getting used to the feeling of the cool paint drift across the bare skin of your back.

Your questions as to what he was painting went unanswered and you let your eyes drift shut as he continued his work, on pausing to place soft kisses on your unpainted shoulders.

Finally you heard the clicking sound of his paint being closed.

"Done." He said.

You twist round, trying to see it but you couldn't catch more than the dark blue at the top of your back.

"What is it?" You asked.

"The night sky from La La Land." Renjun said, that small smile that always came onto his face when he was proud of his work.

He snapped a picture, showing you the gorgeous scenery he had painted on you. The sky was a mix of dark blues and purples, only disturbed by the single bench and lamppost.

Renjun studied the painting for a moment longer, pleased with his work.

But when you turned around to face him, he couldn't help but think the canvas had always been the most beautiful part.

Jeno:

Jeno doesn't realise how much he loves this until you do it.

You're both sitting on the sofa one evening, Jeno leaning against you while you show him a video on your phone. He's clearly tired after the day so you lift your hand to rub his back, and gradually your nails begin tracing against his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jeno pauses.

Not dramatically, just a small stillness.

Then he slowly but surely leans back into you, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Your nails drift slowly across his back and Jeno sighs, the sound so quiet it was almost lost under the noise of your phone.

You smiled to yourself and kept the movement going, tracing lines up and down his spine.

Jeno gradually moved further into you, until he was fully pressed against your side.

"You know you can just ask?" You say and his head tilts in question towards you as response so you continue. "For this. You can ask."

"It just feels nice." Even his voice had begun to slow and that soft eye smile that you love so much started to appear.

Your hand stills for a second, and Jeno nudges his back into you once again.

You chuckle and resume your actions, watching Jeno close his eyes in bliss at the feeling. And every time you rake your nails across his back, Jeno melts a little further into you.

You love the way Jeno let his guard down around you. With everyone else he was tough, dependable, the one others leaned on. But with you, he liked being able to be gentle like this

Jeno let himself sink into you, feeling the weight of the day slide off him with every line you drew.

He had never been able to relax this quickly before.

And it was already becoming his favourite way to.

Haechan:

Haechan is absolutely shameless when it comes to wanting attention from you, and him wanting back scratches is no different.

Ever since the first time you did it he has become obsessed.

And he has no problem seeking them out any time he wants one.

Which is pretty much all the time.

You're sitting on the sofa in the practice room one day, scrolling your phone while the boys stop for a break when Haechan walks up to you. He doesn't utter a word, just sits down next to you, with his back facing you.

You look up over your phone to see him there waiting expectantly.

Still without uttering a word he grabs one of your hands and places it square on his back.

When you still don't move he finally utters a word.

"Start."

"Seriously?" You laugh and he nods.

"Yes."

The second you begin to trail your fingers up and down his back his head drops with a dramatic sigh.

"See, this is exactly what I needed."

You shake your head but continue to scratch your nails up and down his back, watching his shoulders loosen almost instantly at the sensation.

Haechan may be demanding when it comes to attention, but that is because there is nothing he loves more than your attention. You have a way of stopping all the thoughts swirling around his brain with a simple touch of your hand.

He leaned further into the feeling, turning his head to look at your face, a smile he couldn't help breaking out at the sight of it.

"Don't stop." He said, his smile growing at your response.

"I wasn't planning on it."

He let his head drop once more, the last of the noise in his head finally quieting beneath your touch.

Haechan may be the sun, but you were the thing his world revolved around.

Jaemin:

Jaemin enjoys your back scratches. He enjoys any time he gets to have you close.

But if he had to choose, he would always rather be the one giving them.

It happened naturally as most things do. The two of you were lying in bed, chatting about random things, a cloud you saw, what he ate for lunch, your plans for tomorrow, while your hands drifted up and down his back.

He let you go on for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having you close, before his own hands started to drift.

Without thinking about it he reached for the bottom of your shirt, his fingers finding their way under the hem so they could lightly run over your back.

You paused when he started his movements, you always did.

"You're stealing my job." You mumbled into his neck, and Jaemin couldn't help but smile.

He simply hummed in response, unbothered by your words as his hands kept moving, focusing on your spine as he knows you like.

He keeps talking about what he was saying before while his hands move, slowly and absentmindedly.

He loves the feeling of you sinking further into him as you relax under his touch, loves knowing that you only relax this much with him.

As much as he loves it when you scratch his back, he loves being the one to take care of you like this even more.

There was something about quiet moments like these that he treasured more than anything.

And he wouldn't change a thing about it.

Chenle:

Chenle will never ask you for back scratches.

Not because he doesn't like them, it's quite the opposite actually, but because he won't let you know just how badly they affect him.

The first time you did it he didn't react at all, just continued watching tv like normal. The only sign you had that he registered your movements was the small giggle that he let out when you went too close to his sides and nearly tickled him.

But ever since that day, Chenle had developed a new habit that you were noticing more and more often.

Like now.

You're both sitting on the sofa, Chenle showing you something on his phone, and, as he's talking, he readjusts himself so that his back is pressed against your arm.

You don't say anything, you know he will deny it forever if you do.

Instead you silently lift a hand and begin to trail your fingers up and down his back.

As much as Chenle tries to keep his cool, he cannot help the smile that breaks out across his face every time you do this.

You paused your movements, trying to focus on what Chenle was showing you, but he noticed immediately.

And he nudged back a little further, pressing against your hand.

The second you started moving again that smile came back, this time with a soft sigh as his weight began to slowly lean on you.

Even as he melts into you, he will never fully admit just how much he enjoys it.

But judging by how easily he turns to putty in your hands the second you scratch his back, you don't need him to say it.

Jisung:

Jisung had never even thought about back scratches before you.

The first time you did it, he was a little confused. Even going as far as to ask you what you were doing.

"Scratching your back." You replied, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

"Oh." He replied, looking back at his phone. "It feels nice."

From that moment on he was gone.

The only thing is, he is still a little shy to ask for them, so instead he had adopted a rather effective strategy.

You were lying on the sofa one evening, half-watching something on tv when Jisung walked in.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet you. He simply walked over and flopped down right on top of you.

A small laugh escaped you as he settled down on top of you.

You murmured a greeting into his hair, placing a soft kiss there as your hands instinctively found their way to his back.

The second your fingers started moving, a deep sigh left Jisung and his whole body relaxed on top of you.

Neither of you say anything for a while.

Your fingers keep moving, drawing lines and patterns across his back while the tension in his body leaves with every move of your fingers.

Jisung never needed to ask you to scratch his back, he just lay down on top of you and you knew exactly what he needed.

At this point, it had quietly become one of his favourite places to be.

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: Back Scratches

Mark:

Mark is gone the second your nails touch his back.

He doesn't even realise how much he loves it until your nails start running up and down his back while you're lying on the sofa together one evening.

And Mark just stops talking.

You look down and he's already half asleep.

"Mark? You were literally telling a story." You nudged him gently, smiling down at him.

"Hmm... yeah... hold on..." He mumbled. He tries so hard to stay awake because he was saying something important, but they way your nails move slowly across his back just melts every muscle in his body.

It was like the whole day melted off him, his face stilled and his body sank into you with every breath he took.

You watch the tension leave him piece by piece.

Your fingers drift lazily up the length of his back and Mark lets out another soft sigh. His head slips a little further down your shoulder, resting heavily against your neck.

"You were talking about the studio?" You reminded him, and he shifted slightly in response, getting even closer to you.

"Right... I was saying if the bass came in later, maybe after the-"

His voice trailed off again as your nails traced down his back once more. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at the sight.

"I'm thinking." He mumbled in response to your soft giggles.

Your hand moves without thinking, tracing your nails lightly down his spine. Mark moves even closer, his arms tightening around you instinctively.

One more slow scratch down his back, and he's gone.

His breath evened out, warm against your collarbone as his weight sinks fully into you.

You glance down and Mark is fully asleep. You watch him fondly, stroking some hair out of his face gently.

Mark doesn't stir once while you admire him, if anything, he sinks deeper into you.

Your fingers keep moving absentmindedly across his back.

Judging from the way Mark keeps sinking into you, you don't think he'll be waking up any time soon.

Renjun:

Renjun unknowingly turns it into a game.

You're lying on the sofa together, a tv show playing in the background that neither of you are really watching. He's lying half on top of you, while your hands reach for his back without realising and starting to absentmindedly draw patterns.

You barely noticed you were doing it until Renjun lifted his head and looked up at you.

"What are you drawing?" He asked and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"I'm not drawing anything."

"Yes, you are." He countered. "Do it again."

You started to move your fingers around again, this time with a picture in mind.

Renjun hummed thoughtfully as he began to guess.

"A star?"

"Nope."

"A flower?"

"No."

Renjun looked up again. "What was that?"

You grinned down at him. "A dinosaur."

Renjun immediately groaned, dropping his head back down into your shoulder.

"That was not a dinosaur."

From that moment on, it becomes your thing.

Whenever you're sitting together, your nails end up tracing shapes across his back while Renjun tries to guess what you're drawing. Sometimes he gets them instantly.

Other times he’s completely convinced he’s right when he couldn't be further from the answer.

Then one evening, Renjun decides it's his turn.

You're both sitting on the floor during a rare night off when Renjun suddenly disappears. When he reappears he's holding his paints.

You don't say anything, instead choosing to simply raise an eyebrow at him in question.

He places a towel down behind you, leans in and softly kisses your neck as he whispers in your ear.

"Trust me."

Ten minutes later you're getting used to the feeling of the cool paint drift across the bare skin of your back.

Your questions as to what he was painting went unanswered and you let your eyes drift shut as he continued his work, on pausing to place soft kisses on your unpainted shoulders.

Finally you heard the clicking sound of his paint being closed.

"Done." He said.

You twist round, trying to see it but you couldn't catch more than the dark blue at the top of your back.

"What is it?" You asked.

"The night sky from La La Land." Renjun said, that small smile that always came onto his face when he was proud of his work.

He snapped a picture, showing you the gorgeous scenery he had painted on you. The sky was a mix of dark blues and purples, only disturbed by the single bench and lamppost.

Renjun studied the painting for a moment longer, pleased with his work.

But when you turned around to face him, he couldn't help but think the canvas had always been the most beautiful part.

Jeno:

Jeno doesn't realise how much he loves this until you do it.

You're both sitting on the sofa one evening, Jeno leaning against you while you show him a video on your phone. He's clearly tired after the day so you lift your hand to rub his back, and gradually your nails begin tracing against his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jeno pauses.

Not dramatically, just a small stillness.

Then he slowly but surely leans back into you, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Your nails drift slowly across his back and Jeno sighs, the sound so quiet it was almost lost under the noise of your phone.

You smiled to yourself and kept the movement going, tracing lines up and down his spine.

Jeno gradually moved further into you, until he was fully pressed against your side.

"You know you can just ask?" You say and his head tilts in question towards you as response so you continue. "For this. You can ask."

"It just feels nice." Even his voice had begun to slow and that soft eye smile that you love so much started to appear.

Your hand stills for a second, and Jeno nudges his back into you once again.

You chuckle and resume your actions, watching Jeno close his eyes in bliss at the feeling. And every time you rake your nails across his back, Jeno melts a little further into you.

You love the way Jeno let his guard down around you. With everyone else he was tough, dependable, the one others leaned on. But with you, he liked being able to be gentle like this

Jeno let himself sink into you, feeling the weight of the day slide off him with every line you drew.

He had never been able to relax this quickly before.

And it was already becoming his favourite way to.

Haechan:

Haechan is absolutely shameless when it comes to wanting attention from you, and him wanting back scratches is no different.

Ever since the first time you did it he has become obsessed.

And he has no problem seeking them out any time he wants one.

Which is pretty much all the time.

You're sitting on the sofa in the practice room one day, scrolling your phone while the boys stop for a break when Haechan walks up to you. He doesn't utter a word, just sits down next to you, with his back facing you.

You look up over your phone to see him there waiting expectantly.

Still without uttering a word he grabs one of your hands and places it square on his back.

When you still don't move he finally utters a word.

"Start."

"Seriously?" You laugh and he nods.

"Yes."

The second you begin to trail your fingers up and down his back his head drops with a dramatic sigh.

"See, this is exactly what I needed."

You shake your head but continue to scratch your nails up and down his back, watching his shoulders loosen almost instantly at the sensation.

Haechan may be demanding when it comes to attention, but that is because there is nothing he loves more than your attention. You have a way of stopping all the thoughts swirling around his brain with a simple touch of your hand.

He leaned further into the feeling, turning his head to look at your face, a smile he couldn't help breaking out at the sight of it.

"Don't stop." He said, his smile growing at your response.

"I wasn't planning on it."

He let his head drop once more, the last of the noise in his head finally quieting beneath your touch.

Haechan may be the sun, but you were the thing his world revolved around.

Jaemin:

Jaemin enjoys your back scratches. He enjoys any time he gets to have you close.

But if he had to choose, he would always rather be the one giving them.

It happened naturally as most things do. The two of you were lying in bed, chatting about random things, a cloud you saw, what he ate for lunch, your plans for tomorrow, while your hands drifted up and down his back.

He let you go on for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having you close, before his own hands started to drift.

Without thinking about it he reached for the bottom of your shirt, his fingers finding their way under the hem so they could lightly run over your back.

You paused when he started his movements, you always did.

"You're stealing my job." You mumbled into his neck, and Jaemin couldn't help but smile.

He simply hummed in response, unbothered by your words as his hands kept moving, focusing on your spine as he knows you like.

He keeps talking about what he was saying before while his hands move, slowly and absentmindedly.

He loves the feeling of you sinking further into him as you relax under his touch, loves knowing that you only relax this much with him.

As much as he loves it when you scratch his back, he loves being the one to take care of you like this even more.

There was something about quiet moments like these that he treasured more than anything.

And he wouldn't change a thing about it.

Chenle:

Chenle will never ask you for back scratches.

Not because he doesn't like them, it's quite the opposite actually, but because he won't let you know just how badly they affect him.

The first time you did it he didn't react at all, just continued watching tv like normal. The only sign you had that he registered your movements was the small giggle that he let out when you went too close to his sides and nearly tickled him.

But ever since that day, Chenle had developed a new habit that you were noticing more and more often.

Like now.

You're both sitting on the sofa, Chenle showing you something on his phone, and, as he's talking, he readjusts himself so that his back is pressed against your arm.

You don't say anything, you know he will deny it forever if you do.

Instead you silently lift a hand and begin to trail your fingers up and down his back.

As much as Chenle tries to keep his cool, he cannot help the smile that breaks out across his face every time you do this.

You paused your movements, trying to focus on what Chenle was showing you, but he noticed immediately.

And he nudged back a little further, pressing against your hand.

The second you started moving again that smile came back, this time with a soft sigh as his weight began to slowly lean on you.

Even as he melts into you, he will never fully admit just how much he enjoys it.

But judging by how easily he turns to putty in your hands the second you scratch his back, you don't need him to say it.

Jisung:

Jisung had never even thought about back scratches before you.

The first time you did it, he was a little confused. Even going as far as to ask you what you were doing.

"Scratching your back." You replied, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

"Oh." He replied, looking back at his phone. "It feels nice."

From that moment on he was gone.

The only thing is, he is still a little shy to ask for them, so instead he had adopted a rather effective strategy.

You were lying on the sofa one evening, half-watching something on tv when Jisung walked in.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet you. He simply walked over and flopped down right on top of you.

A small laugh escaped you as he settled down on top of you.

You murmured a greeting into his hair, placing a soft kiss there as your hands instinctively found their way to his back.

The second your fingers started moving, a deep sigh left Jisung and his whole body relaxed on top of you.

Neither of you say anything for a while.

Your fingers keep moving, drawing lines and patterns across his back while the tension in his body leaves with every move of your fingers.

Jisung never needed to ask you to scratch his back, he just lay down on top of you and you knew exactly what he needed.

At this point, it had quietly become one of his favourite places to be.

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: Back Scratches

Mark:

Mark is gone the second your nails touch his back.

He doesn't even realise how much he loves it until your nails start running up and down his back while you're lying on the sofa together one evening.

And Mark just stops talking.

You look down and he's already half asleep.

"Mark? You were literally telling a story." You nudged him gently, smiling down at him.

"Hmm... yeah... hold on..." He mumbled. He tries so hard to stay awake because he was saying something important, but they way your nails move slowly across his back just melts every muscle in his body.

It was like the whole day melted off him, his face stilled and his body sank into you with every breath he took.

You watch the tension leave him piece by piece.

Your fingers drift lazily up the length of his back and Mark lets out another soft sigh. His head slips a little further down your shoulder, resting heavily against your neck.

"You were talking about the studio?" You reminded him, and he shifted slightly in response, getting even closer to you.

"Right... I was saying if the bass came in later, maybe after the-"

His voice trailed off again as your nails traced down his back once more. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at the sight.

"I'm thinking." He mumbled in response to your soft giggles.

Your hand moves without thinking, tracing your nails lightly down his spine. Mark moves even closer, his arms tightening around you instinctively.

One more slow scratch down his back, and he's gone.

His breath evened out, warm against your collarbone as his weight sinks fully into you.

You glance down and Mark is fully asleep. You watch him fondly, stroking some hair out of his face gently.

Mark doesn't stir once while you admire him, if anything, he sinks deeper into you.

Your fingers keep moving absentmindedly across his back.

Judging from the way Mark keeps sinking into you, you don't think he'll be waking up any time soon.

Renjun:

Renjun unknowingly turns it into a game.

You're lying on the sofa together, a tv show playing in the background that neither of you are really watching. He's lying half on top of you, while your hands reach for his back without realising and starting to absentmindedly draw patterns.

You barely noticed you were doing it until Renjun lifted his head and looked up at you.

"What are you drawing?" He asked and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"I'm not drawing anything."

"Yes, you are." He countered. "Do it again."

You started to move your fingers around again, this time with a picture in mind.

Renjun hummed thoughtfully as he began to guess.

"A star?"

"Nope."

"A flower?"

"No."

Renjun looked up again. "What was that?"

You grinned down at him. "A dinosaur."

Renjun immediately groaned, dropping his head back down into your shoulder.

"That was not a dinosaur."

From that moment on, it becomes your thing.

Whenever you're sitting together, your nails end up tracing shapes across his back while Renjun tries to guess what you're drawing. Sometimes he gets them instantly.

Other times he’s completely convinced he’s right when he couldn't be further from the answer.

Then one evening, Renjun decides it's his turn.

You're both sitting on the floor during a rare night off when Renjun suddenly disappears. When he reappears he's holding his paints.

You don't say anything, instead choosing to simply raise an eyebrow at him in question.

He places a towel down behind you, leans in and softly kisses your neck as he whispers in your ear.

"Trust me."

Ten minutes later you're getting used to the feeling of the cool paint drift across the bare skin of your back.

Your questions as to what he was painting went unanswered and you let your eyes drift shut as he continued his work, on pausing to place soft kisses on your unpainted shoulders.

Finally you heard the clicking sound of his paint being closed.

"Done." He said.

You twist round, trying to see it but you couldn't catch more than the dark blue at the top of your back.

"What is it?" You asked.

"The night sky from La La Land." Renjun said, that small smile that always came onto his face when he was proud of his work.

He snapped a picture, showing you the gorgeous scenery he had painted on you. The sky was a mix of dark blues and purples, only disturbed by the single bench and lamppost.

Renjun studied the painting for a moment longer, pleased with his work.

But when you turned around to face him, he couldn't help but think the canvas had always been the most beautiful part.

Jeno:

Jeno doesn't realise how much he loves this until you do it.

You're both sitting on the sofa one evening, Jeno leaning against you while you show him a video on your phone. He's clearly tired after the day so you lift your hand to rub his back, and gradually your nails begin tracing against his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jeno pauses.

Not dramatically, just a small stillness.

Then he slowly but surely leans back into you, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Your nails drift slowly across his back and Jeno sighs, the sound so quiet it was almost lost under the noise of your phone.

You smiled to yourself and kept the movement going, tracing lines up and down his spine.

Jeno gradually moved further into you, until he was fully pressed against your side.

"You know you can just ask?" You say and his head tilts in question towards you as response so you continue. "For this. You can ask."

"It just feels nice." Even his voice had begun to slow and that soft eye smile that you love so much started to appear.

Your hand stills for a second, and Jeno nudges his back into you once again.

You chuckle and resume your actions, watching Jeno close his eyes in bliss at the feeling. And every time you rake your nails across his back, Jeno melts a little further into you.

You love the way Jeno let his guard down around you. With everyone else he was tough, dependable, the one others leaned on. But with you, he liked being able to be gentle like this

Jeno let himself sink into you, feeling the weight of the day slide off him with every line you drew.

He had never been able to relax this quickly before.

And it was already becoming his favourite way to.

Haechan:

Haechan is absolutely shameless when it comes to wanting attention from you, and him wanting back scratches is no different.

Ever since the first time you did it he has become obsessed.

And he has no problem seeking them out any time he wants one.

Which is pretty much all the time.

You're sitting on the sofa in the practice room one day, scrolling your phone while the boys stop for a break when Haechan walks up to you. He doesn't utter a word, just sits down next to you, with his back facing you.

You look up over your phone to see him there waiting expectantly.

Still without uttering a word he grabs one of your hands and places it square on his back.

When you still don't move he finally utters a word.

"Start."

"Seriously?" You laugh and he nods.

"Yes."

The second you begin to trail your fingers up and down his back his head drops with a dramatic sigh.

"See, this is exactly what I needed."

You shake your head but continue to scratch your nails up and down his back, watching his shoulders loosen almost instantly at the sensation.

Haechan may be demanding when it comes to attention, but that is because there is nothing he loves more than your attention. You have a way of stopping all the thoughts swirling around his brain with a simple touch of your hand.

He leaned further into the feeling, turning his head to look at your face, a smile he couldn't help breaking out at the sight of it.

"Don't stop." He said, his smile growing at your response.

"I wasn't planning on it."

He let his head drop once more, the last of the noise in his head finally quieting beneath your touch.

Haechan may be the sun, but you were the thing his world revolved around.

Jaemin:

Jaemin enjoys your back scratches. He enjoys any time he gets to have you close.

But if he had to choose, he would always rather be the one giving them.

It happened naturally as most things do. The two of you were lying in bed, chatting about random things, a cloud you saw, what he ate for lunch, your plans for tomorrow, while your hands drifted up and down his back.

He let you go on for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having you close, before his own hands started to drift.

Without thinking about it he reached for the bottom of your shirt, his fingers finding their way under the hem so they could lightly run over your back.

You paused when he started his movements, you always did.

"You're stealing my job." You mumbled into his neck, and Jaemin couldn't help but smile.

He simply hummed in response, unbothered by your words as his hands kept moving, focusing on your spine as he knows you like.

He keeps talking about what he was saying before while his hands move, slowly and absentmindedly.

He loves the feeling of you sinking further into him as you relax under his touch, loves knowing that you only relax this much with him.

As much as he loves it when you scratch his back, he loves being the one to take care of you like this even more.

There was something about quiet moments like these that he treasured more than anything.

And he wouldn't change a thing about it.

Chenle:

Chenle will never ask you for back scratches.

Not because he doesn't like them, it's quite the opposite actually, but because he won't let you know just how badly they affect him.

The first time you did it he didn't react at all, just continued watching tv like normal. The only sign you had that he registered your movements was the small giggle that he let out when you went too close to his sides and nearly tickled him.

But ever since that day, Chenle had developed a new habit that you were noticing more and more often.

Like now.

You're both sitting on the sofa, Chenle showing you something on his phone, and, as he's talking, he readjusts himself so that his back is pressed against your arm.

You don't say anything, you know he will deny it forever if you do.

Instead you silently lift a hand and begin to trail your fingers up and down his back.

As much as Chenle tries to keep his cool, he cannot help the smile that breaks out across his face every time you do this.

You paused your movements, trying to focus on what Chenle was showing you, but he noticed immediately.

And he nudged back a little further, pressing against your hand.

The second you started moving again that smile came back, this time with a soft sigh as his weight began to slowly lean on you.

Even as he melts into you, he will never fully admit just how much he enjoys it.

But judging by how easily he turns to putty in your hands the second you scratch his back, you don't need him to say it.

Jisung:

Jisung had never even thought about back scratches before you.

The first time you did it, he was a little confused. Even going as far as to ask you what you were doing.

"Scratching your back." You replied, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

"Oh." He replied, looking back at his phone. "It feels nice."

From that moment on he was gone.

The only thing is, he is still a little shy to ask for them, so instead he had adopted a rather effective strategy.

You were lying on the sofa one evening, half-watching something on tv when Jisung walked in.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet you. He simply walked over and flopped down right on top of you.

A small laugh escaped you as he settled down on top of you.

You murmured a greeting into his hair, placing a soft kiss there as your hands instinctively found their way to his back.

The second your fingers started moving, a deep sigh left Jisung and his whole body relaxed on top of you.

Neither of you say anything for a while.

Your fingers keep moving, drawing lines and patterns across his back while the tension in his body leaves with every move of your fingers.

Jisung never needed to ask you to scratch his back, he just lay down on top of you and you knew exactly what he needed.

At this point, it had quietly become one of his favourite places to be.

[alicanta77]

now i just need to figure out why my recent reaction has been given a mature content warning when it is literally pure fluff???

[alicanta77]

literally just got the new macbook air and it isn't even working

[alicanta77]

WE ARE IN BUSINESS!!

[alicanta77]

literally just got the new macbook air and it isn't even working

[ronjunnie]

JAEMIN FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

SERIES

arcane @neonacity

case oasis @neonc1tylights

ONESHOTS

the golden fruit duology (32.0k) @starlightkun

skyline (30k) @alicanta77

prey (m) (23k), hunter (m) (26.7k) @neobubz

work it (m) (20k) @ofjunemoment

captain sparkles revives me from the dead (13.2k) @choerrypuffs

TIMESTAMPS

8:08 am @gyeomsweetgyeom

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: Back Scratches

Mark:

Mark is gone the second your nails touch his back.

He doesn't even realise how much he loves it until your nails start running up and down his back while you're lying on the sofa together one evening.

And Mark just stops talking.

You look down and he's already half asleep.

"Mark? You were literally telling a story." You nudged him gently, smiling down at him.

"Hmm... yeah... hold on..." He mumbled. He tries so hard to stay awake because he was saying something important, but they way your nails move slowly across his back just melts every muscle in his body.

It was like the whole day melted off him, his face stilled and his body sank into you with every breath he took.

You watch the tension leave him piece by piece.

Your fingers drift lazily up the length of his back and Mark lets out another soft sigh. His head slips a little further down your shoulder, resting heavily against your neck.

"You were talking about the studio?" You reminded him, and he shifted slightly in response, getting even closer to you.

"Right... I was saying if the bass came in later, maybe after the-"

His voice trailed off again as your nails traced down his back once more. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at the sight.

"I'm thinking." He mumbled in response to your soft giggles.

Your hand moves without thinking, tracing your nails lightly down his spine. Mark moves even closer, his arms tightening around you instinctively.

One more slow scratch down his back, and he's gone.

His breath evened out, warm against your collarbone as his weight sinks fully into you.

You glance down and Mark is fully asleep. You watch him fondly, stroking some hair out of his face gently.

Mark doesn't stir once while you admire him, if anything, he sinks deeper into you.

Your fingers keep moving absentmindedly across his back.

Judging from the way Mark keeps sinking into you, you don't think he'll be waking up any time soon.

Renjun:

Renjun unknowingly turns it into a game.

You're lying on the sofa together, a tv show playing in the background that neither of you are really watching. He's lying half on top of you, while your hands reach for his back without realising and starting to absentmindedly draw patterns.

You barely noticed you were doing it until Renjun lifted his head and looked up at you.

"What are you drawing?" He asked and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"I'm not drawing anything."

"Yes, you are." He countered. "Do it again."

You started to move your fingers around again, this time with a picture in mind.

Renjun hummed thoughtfully as he began to guess.

"A star?"

"Nope."

"A flower?"

"No."

Renjun looked up again. "What was that?"

You grinned down at him. "A dinosaur."

Renjun immediately groaned, dropping his head back down into your shoulder.

"That was not a dinosaur."

From that moment on, it becomes your thing.

Whenever you're sitting together, your nails end up tracing shapes across his back while Renjun tries to guess what you're drawing. Sometimes he gets them instantly.

Other times he’s completely convinced he’s right when he couldn't be further from the answer.

Then one evening, Renjun decides it's his turn.

You're both sitting on the floor during a rare night off when Renjun suddenly disappears. When he reappears he's holding his paints.

You don't say anything, instead choosing to simply raise an eyebrow at him in question.

He places a towel down behind you, leans in and softly kisses your neck as he whispers in your ear.

"Trust me."

Ten minutes later you're getting used to the feeling of the cool paint drift across the bare skin of your back.

Your questions as to what he was painting went unanswered and you let your eyes drift shut as he continued his work, on pausing to place soft kisses on your unpainted shoulders.

Finally you heard the clicking sound of his paint being closed.

"Done." He said.

You twist round, trying to see it but you couldn't catch more than the dark blue at the top of your back.

"What is it?" You asked.

"The night sky from La La Land." Renjun said, that small smile that always came onto his face when he was proud of his work.

He snapped a picture, showing you the gorgeous scenery he had painted on you. The sky was a mix of dark blues and purples, only disturbed by the single bench and lamppost.

Renjun studied the painting for a moment longer, pleased with his work.

But when you turned around to face him, he couldn't help but think the canvas had always been the most beautiful part.

Jeno:

Jeno doesn't realise how much he loves this until you do it.

You're both sitting on the sofa one evening, Jeno leaning against you while you show him a video on your phone. He's clearly tired after the day so you lift your hand to rub his back, and gradually your nails begin tracing against his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jeno pauses.

Not dramatically, just a small stillness.

Then he slowly but surely leans back into you, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Your nails drift slowly across his back and Jeno sighs, the sound so quiet it was almost lost under the noise of your phone.

You smiled to yourself and kept the movement going, tracing lines up and down his spine.

Jeno gradually moved further into you, until he was fully pressed against your side.

"You know you can just ask?" You say and his head tilts in question towards you as response so you continue. "For this. You can ask."

"It just feels nice." Even his voice had begun to slow and that soft eye smile that you love so much started to appear.

Your hand stills for a second, and Jeno nudges his back into you once again.

You chuckle and resume your actions, watching Jeno close his eyes in bliss at the feeling. And every time you rake your nails across his back, Jeno melts a little further into you.

You love the way Jeno let his guard down around you. With everyone else he was tough, dependable, the one others leaned on. But with you, he liked being able to be gentle like this

Jeno let himself sink into you, feeling the weight of the day slide off him with every line you drew.

He had never been able to relax this quickly before.

And it was already becoming his favourite way to.

Haechan:

Haechan is absolutely shameless when it comes to wanting attention from you, and him wanting back scratches is no different.

Ever since the first time you did it he has become obsessed.

And he has no problem seeking them out any time he wants one.

Which is pretty much all the time.

You're sitting on the sofa in the practice room one day, scrolling your phone while the boys stop for a break when Haechan walks up to you. He doesn't utter a word, just sits down next to you, with his back facing you.

You look up over your phone to see him there waiting expectantly.

Still without uttering a word he grabs one of your hands and places it square on his back.

When you still don't move he finally utters a word.

"Start."

"Seriously?" You laugh and he nods.

"Yes."

The second you begin to trail your fingers up and down his back his head drops with a dramatic sigh.

"See, this is exactly what I needed."

You shake your head but continue to scratch your nails up and down his back, watching his shoulders loosen almost instantly at the sensation.

Haechan may be demanding when it comes to attention, but that is because there is nothing he loves more than your attention. You have a way of stopping all the thoughts swirling around his brain with a simple touch of your hand.

He leaned further into the feeling, turning his head to look at your face, a smile he couldn't help breaking out at the sight of it.

"Don't stop." He said, his smile growing at your response.

"I wasn't planning on it."

He let his head drop once more, the last of the noise in his head finally quieting beneath your touch.

Haechan may be the sun, but you were the thing his world revolved around.

Jaemin:

Jaemin enjoys your back scratches. He enjoys any time he gets to have you close.

But if he had to choose, he would always rather be the one giving them.

It happened naturally as most things do. The two of you were lying in bed, chatting about random things, a cloud you saw, what he ate for lunch, your plans for tomorrow, while your hands drifted up and down his back.

He let you go on for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having you close, before his own hands started to drift.

Without thinking about it he reached for the bottom of your shirt, his fingers finding their way under the hem so they could lightly run over your back.

You paused when he started his movements, you always did.

"You're stealing my job." You mumbled into his neck, and Jaemin couldn't help but smile.

He simply hummed in response, unbothered by your words as his hands kept moving, focusing on your spine as he knows you like.

He keeps talking about what he was saying before while his hands move, slowly and absentmindedly.

He loves the feeling of you sinking further into him as you relax under his touch, loves knowing that you only relax this much with him.

As much as he loves it when you scratch his back, he loves being the one to take care of you like this even more.

There was something about quiet moments like these that he treasured more than anything.

And he wouldn't change a thing about it.

Chenle:

Chenle will never ask you for back scratches.

Not because he doesn't like them, it's quite the opposite actually, but because he won't let you know just how badly they affect him.

The first time you did it he didn't react at all, just continued watching tv like normal. The only sign you had that he registered your movements was the small giggle that he let out when you went too close to his sides and nearly tickled him.

But ever since that day, Chenle had developed a new habit that you were noticing more and more often.

Like now.

You're both sitting on the sofa, Chenle showing you something on his phone, and, as he's talking, he readjusts himself so that his back is pressed against your arm.

You don't say anything, you know he will deny it forever if you do.

Instead you silently lift a hand and begin to trail your fingers up and down his back.

As much as Chenle tries to keep his cool, he cannot help the smile that breaks out across his face every time you do this.

You paused your movements, trying to focus on what Chenle was showing you, but he noticed immediately.

And he nudged back a little further, pressing against your hand.

The second you started moving again that smile came back, this time with a soft sigh as his weight began to slowly lean on you.

Even as he melts into you, he will never fully admit just how much he enjoys it.

But judging by how easily he turns to putty in your hands the second you scratch his back, you don't need him to say it.

Jisung:

Jisung had never even thought about back scratches before you.

The first time you did it, he was a little confused. Even going as far as to ask you what you were doing.

"Scratching your back." You replied, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

"Oh." He replied, looking back at his phone. "It feels nice."

From that moment on he was gone.

The only thing is, he is still a little shy to ask for them, so instead he had adopted a rather effective strategy.

You were lying on the sofa one evening, half-watching something on tv when Jisung walked in.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet you. He simply walked over and flopped down right on top of you.

A small laugh escaped you as he settled down on top of you.

You murmured a greeting into his hair, placing a soft kiss there as your hands instinctively found their way to his back.

The second your fingers started moving, a deep sigh left Jisung and his whole body relaxed on top of you.

Neither of you say anything for a while.

Your fingers keep moving, drawing lines and patterns across his back while the tension in his body leaves with every move of your fingers.

Jisung never needed to ask you to scratch his back, he just lay down on top of you and you knew exactly what he needed.

At this point, it had quietly become one of his favourite places to be.

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: Back Scratches

Mark:

Mark is gone the second your nails touch his back.

He doesn't even realise how much he loves it until your nails start running up and down his back while you're lying on the sofa together one evening.

And Mark just stops talking.

You look down and he's already half asleep.

"Mark? You were literally telling a story." You nudged him gently, smiling down at him.

"Hmm... yeah... hold on..." He mumbled. He tries so hard to stay awake because he was saying something important, but they way your nails move slowly across his back just melts every muscle in his body.

It was like the whole day melted off him, his face stilled and his body sank into you with every breath he took.

You watch the tension leave him piece by piece.

Your fingers drift lazily up the length of his back and Mark lets out another soft sigh. His head slips a little further down your shoulder, resting heavily against your neck.

"You were talking about the studio?" You reminded him, and he shifted slightly in response, getting even closer to you.

"Right... I was saying if the bass came in later, maybe after the-"

His voice trailed off again as your nails traced down his back once more. You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at the sight.

"I'm thinking." He mumbled in response to your soft giggles.

Your hand moves without thinking, tracing your nails lightly down his spine. Mark moves even closer, his arms tightening around you instinctively.

One more slow scratch down his back, and he's gone.

His breath evened out, warm against your collarbone as his weight sinks fully into you.

You glance down and Mark is fully asleep. You watch him fondly, stroking some hair out of his face gently.

Mark doesn't stir once while you admire him, if anything, he sinks deeper into you.

Your fingers keep moving absentmindedly across his back.

Judging from the way Mark keeps sinking into you, you don't think he'll be waking up any time soon.

Renjun:

Renjun unknowingly turns it into a game.

You're lying on the sofa together, a tv show playing in the background that neither of you are really watching. He's lying half on top of you, while your hands reach for his back without realising and starting to absentmindedly draw patterns.

You barely noticed you were doing it until Renjun lifted his head and looked up at you.

"What are you drawing?" He asked and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"I'm not drawing anything."

"Yes, you are." He countered. "Do it again."

You started to move your fingers around again, this time with a picture in mind.

Renjun hummed thoughtfully as he began to guess.

"A star?"

"Nope."

"A flower?"

"No."

Renjun looked up again. "What was that?"

You grinned down at him. "A dinosaur."

Renjun immediately groaned, dropping his head back down into your shoulder.

"That was not a dinosaur."

From that moment on, it becomes your thing.

Whenever you're sitting together, your nails end up tracing shapes across his back while Renjun tries to guess what you're drawing. Sometimes he gets them instantly.

Other times he’s completely convinced he’s right when he couldn't be further from the answer.

Then one evening, Renjun decides it's his turn.

You're both sitting on the floor during a rare night off when Renjun suddenly disappears. When he reappears he's holding his paints.

You don't say anything, instead choosing to simply raise an eyebrow at him in question.

He places a towel down behind you, leans in and softly kisses your neck as he whispers in your ear.

"Trust me."

Ten minutes later you're getting used to the feeling of the cool paint drift across the bare skin of your back.

Your questions as to what he was painting went unanswered and you let your eyes drift shut as he continued his work, on pausing to place soft kisses on your unpainted shoulders.

Finally you heard the clicking sound of his paint being closed.

"Done." He said.

You twist round, trying to see it but you couldn't catch more than the dark blue at the top of your back.

"What is it?" You asked.

"The night sky from La La Land." Renjun said, that small smile that always came onto his face when he was proud of his work.

He snapped a picture, showing you the gorgeous scenery he had painted on you. The sky was a mix of dark blues and purples, only disturbed by the single bench and lamppost.

Renjun studied the painting for a moment longer, pleased with his work.

But when you turned around to face him, he couldn't help but think the canvas had always been the most beautiful part.

Jeno:

Jeno doesn't realise how much he loves this until you do it.

You're both sitting on the sofa one evening, Jeno leaning against you while you show him a video on your phone. He's clearly tired after the day so you lift your hand to rub his back, and gradually your nails begin tracing against his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jeno pauses.

Not dramatically, just a small stillness.

Then he slowly but surely leans back into you, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Your nails drift slowly across his back and Jeno sighs, the sound so quiet it was almost lost under the noise of your phone.

You smiled to yourself and kept the movement going, tracing lines up and down his spine.

Jeno gradually moved further into you, until he was fully pressed against your side.

"You know you can just ask?" You say and his head tilts in question towards you as response so you continue. "For this. You can ask."

"It just feels nice." Even his voice had begun to slow and that soft eye smile that you love so much started to appear.

Your hand stills for a second, and Jeno nudges his back into you once again.

You chuckle and resume your actions, watching Jeno close his eyes in bliss at the feeling. And every time you rake your nails across his back, Jeno melts a little further into you.

You love the way Jeno let his guard down around you. With everyone else he was tough, dependable, the one others leaned on. But with you, he liked being able to be gentle like this

Jeno let himself sink into you, feeling the weight of the day slide off him with every line you drew.

He had never been able to relax this quickly before.

And it was already becoming his favourite way to.

Haechan:

Haechan is absolutely shameless when it comes to wanting attention from you, and him wanting back scratches is no different.

Ever since the first time you did it he has become obsessed.

And he has no problem seeking them out any time he wants one.

Which is pretty much all the time.

You're sitting on the sofa in the practice room one day, scrolling your phone while the boys stop for a break when Haechan walks up to you. He doesn't utter a word, just sits down next to you, with his back facing you.

You look up over your phone to see him there waiting expectantly.

Still without uttering a word he grabs one of your hands and places it square on his back.

When you still don't move he finally utters a word.

"Start."

"Seriously?" You laugh and he nods.

"Yes."

The second you begin to trail your fingers up and down his back his head drops with a dramatic sigh.

"See, this is exactly what I needed."

You shake your head but continue to scratch your nails up and down his back, watching his shoulders loosen almost instantly at the sensation.

Haechan may be demanding when it comes to attention, but that is because there is nothing he loves more than your attention. You have a way of stopping all the thoughts swirling around his brain with a simple touch of your hand.

He leaned further into the feeling, turning his head to look at your face, a smile he couldn't help breaking out at the sight of it.

"Don't stop." He said, his smile growing at your response.

"I wasn't planning on it."

He let his head drop once more, the last of the noise in his head finally quieting beneath your touch.

Haechan may be the sun, but you were the thing his world revolved around.

Jaemin:

Jaemin enjoys your back scratches. He enjoys any time he gets to have you close.

But if he had to choose, he would always rather be the one giving them.

It happened naturally as most things do. The two of you were lying in bed, chatting about random things, a cloud you saw, what he ate for lunch, your plans for tomorrow, while your hands drifted up and down his back.

He let you go on for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having you close, before his own hands started to drift.

Without thinking about it he reached for the bottom of your shirt, his fingers finding their way under the hem so they could lightly run over your back.

You paused when he started his movements, you always did.

"You're stealing my job." You mumbled into his neck, and Jaemin couldn't help but smile.

He simply hummed in response, unbothered by your words as his hands kept moving, focusing on your spine as he knows you like.

He keeps talking about what he was saying before while his hands move, slowly and absentmindedly.

He loves the feeling of you sinking further into him as you relax under his touch, loves knowing that you only relax this much with him.

As much as he loves it when you scratch his back, he loves being the one to take care of you like this even more.

There was something about quiet moments like these that he treasured more than anything.

And he wouldn't change a thing about it.

Chenle:

Chenle will never ask you for back scratches.

Not because he doesn't like them, it's quite the opposite actually, but because he won't let you know just how badly they affect him.

The first time you did it he didn't react at all, just continued watching tv like normal. The only sign you had that he registered your movements was the small giggle that he let out when you went too close to his sides and nearly tickled him.

But ever since that day, Chenle had developed a new habit that you were noticing more and more often.

Like now.

You're both sitting on the sofa, Chenle showing you something on his phone, and, as he's talking, he readjusts himself so that his back is pressed against your arm.

You don't say anything, you know he will deny it forever if you do.

Instead you silently lift a hand and begin to trail your fingers up and down his back.

As much as Chenle tries to keep his cool, he cannot help the smile that breaks out across his face every time you do this.

You paused your movements, trying to focus on what Chenle was showing you, but he noticed immediately.

And he nudged back a little further, pressing against your hand.

The second you started moving again that smile came back, this time with a soft sigh as his weight began to slowly lean on you.

Even as he melts into you, he will never fully admit just how much he enjoys it.

But judging by how easily he turns to putty in your hands the second you scratch his back, you don't need him to say it.

Jisung:

Jisung had never even thought about back scratches before you.

The first time you did it, he was a little confused. Even going as far as to ask you what you were doing.

"Scratching your back." You replied, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

"Oh." He replied, looking back at his phone. "It feels nice."

From that moment on he was gone.

The only thing is, he is still a little shy to ask for them, so instead he had adopted a rather effective strategy.

You were lying on the sofa one evening, half-watching something on tv when Jisung walked in.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet you. He simply walked over and flopped down right on top of you.

A small laugh escaped you as he settled down on top of you.

You murmured a greeting into his hair, placing a soft kiss there as your hands instinctively found their way to his back.

The second your fingers started moving, a deep sigh left Jisung and his whole body relaxed on top of you.

Neither of you say anything for a while.

Your fingers keep moving, drawing lines and patterns across his back while the tension in his body leaves with every move of your fingers.

Jisung never needed to ask you to scratch his back, he just lay down on top of you and you knew exactly what he needed.

At this point, it had quietly become one of his favourite places to be.

[alicanta77]

Are engenes okay because what the actual fuck is happening