[soocult]

nectar she/her poc 25 / masterlist /

18+ blog; minors dni;

　perv!ＴＸＴ & perv!ＳＫＺ

　ＴＢＺ & hyung line!ＥＮＨＡ

(I’m not really comfortable writing for hyuka or any now legal members that aren’t the hyung line; innocence kink)

I DO REBLOG DARK CONTENT!!

send in your thoughts please!

#big brain nectar (asks sent by nectar)

#nectar’s thoughts

#nectar speaks (asks for nectar)

#nectar’s works

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

mdni ⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚

choi san and his humongous breeding kink. he takes this shit seriously. he runs the tightest program known to man trying to knock you up. he has an app that tracks your cycle and he checks it everyday religiously — regardless of the fact that he's got it memorized.

when you're ovulating, god help your soul. he has you in the meanest positions possible all while he's practically praying for his seed to take root inside of you. folding you in half is always a good option, pillow shoved under your hips to help him hit deeper. missionary is fun, doggy style even more so. every position in the book, just to keep things interesting.

his favorite has to be taking you full nelson, feet bouncing as he fucks his thick inches up into your messy cunt. kissing your shoulder as he uses you like an oversized cocksleeve; pulling you up and down, he moans, "c'mon baby, make me a daddy."

[tiramingisu]

.ᐟ mean hard dom!yunho x fem!reader | ~5k words

.ᐟ contains smut minors dni | yh is very mean, masochist reader and sadist yh, extreme d/s dynamics, a lot of slapping, throat-fucking, puppy play, owner kink, daddy kink (like twice), threats, dumbification, fear play, bondage, unprotected sex, choking, breath play, edging, overstimulation

“Stop fucking whining,” Yunho scoffs, winding his hand back to land a harsh slap on your cheek again, your face snapping to the side as you try to obey and bite back your whimper, “And I thought I told you to keep still. What happened to my good puppy, huh?”

“S-Sir, I just—“

Another crack of his hand across your cheek interrupts you, a whimper bubbling up from your throat, “Shut the fuck up. I’m not done talking. Does it look like I’m done talking?”

You don’t answer this time, but it appears that wasn’t the correct answer because he hits you again and scoffs, “I expect an answer when I ask you something.” You try to ignore the small part of your brain that hasn’t been reduced to a version trying to be a good girl for him when it says that he’s contradicting himself, that he’s not being fair.

Yunho’s never fair, you reconcile with yourself, and that’s the way he knows you both like it.

“N-No, ‘m sorry, you weren’t d-done,” you shudder out, looking up at him with teary eyes and the pout that usually makes him coo softly and praise you for being such a cute puppy for him.

This time it doesn’t, and if you hadn’t already realized he was in a meaner mood tonight, that would have done it.

“You’re not gonna get anything from me by pouting. In fact, why are you even trying?” He looks down at you where you sit on your knees, some kind of a judgy sneer on his face that is way hotter than it should be, “Shouldn’t a good puppy just take what she’s given with a smile?”

You nod immediately, trying to fix your face and wipe the pout off of it, “Yes, sir.”

You watch as his sneer softens and he tilts his head slightly before he crouches in front of you, taking a small strain off your neck from having to look up as he towered over you. You think he might be nicer to you, might give you a little grace, so you’re waiting for whispered saccharine words and you’re only left with that familiar sting of disappointment when he speaks, his voice firm and unforgiving.

“Then do it.”

His words are so different than what you were expecting that you guess your brain lags a little, and Yunho takes no nonsense, not even a little hesitation when he gives an order, so he’s quick to backhand you and roughly grab your cheeks again, his face so close to yours that you feel his breath fan across your face when he speaks next, “I said smile. You agreed that a good puppy smiles when its owner gives them attention, right? So when I tell you to smile, I better see all fucking thirty-two. Do you understand me?”

You nod rapidly as best you can with him still holding your jaw, and he removes it to lean back slightly to appraise your smile that follows, big and toothy and not at all meeting your teary eyes.

He thinks he likes that the most, though, the evidence of your submission so plain in the way you try to stretch your lips around a smile even when you’re close to tears from his abuse.

“That’s a good puppy,” he finally gives you the praise you were craving, but it’s immediately followed by another harsh slap to your opposite cheek. You gasp before forcing your head to look back at him as he rises to his full stature again, “That’s for making me tell you twice. I’d tell you to listen better next time if you don’t want to be hit, but we both know you do.”

You can’t really dispute that. You remember the first time he’d hit you, you were already so far gone that it didn’t even embarrass you when you moaned and begged him for more.

Yunho had this surefire certain way to dumb you down with only a few words or a look or a slap. At first, you felt a little sheepish at how pathetic he could make you, but that was gone quickly when he told you if you ever tried to shy away or be anything less than a crying mess for him, he’d take you over his knee and spank you until you remembered just who it is you’re daring to hide in front of.

Yunho’s hand smooths over your hairline, slowly forcing your head to look back up at him, neck craned all the way, “Just like that, there you go,” you revel in the soft, praising tone he says it in, a more sincere, dazed smile spreading across your lips before you realize it, and you almost gasp when a small smile of his own mirrors yours.

“How’d I get such a sweet girl, huh?” He praises softly, and it seems like it’s not as much for you as it is for him, as if he’s realizing just how lucky he is despite the fact that he’s always telling you how fortunate he knows he is outside of your scenes. His hand comes down from your hairline, instead coming to pinch at your raw, red cheek the same way people do when they just find someone too cute to resist, enjoying the way you try to suppress your wince at the contact. Yunho grins as he speaks again, gentle and sweet in a way that you know you have to savor, “Always listening to me, giving me such pretty smiles all the time. You’re such a good puppy, baby.”

“Thank you, sir,” you’re quick to respond, not having forgotten your rules, but he seems especially pleased, like he hadn’t expected this, like you exceeded his expectations.

He was almost looking forward to getting to smack that cute, dazed smile off of your face if you forgot, ready to see the way his fast changes in demeanor fog your mind like it always does.

“Look at you, baby,” he commends in a whisper, his fingers dancing gently across the angry skin of your cheek, and the stinging soothes you in a way you hadn’t expected, the pain serving to pull you back into reality. You’re grateful for it, knowing you have a tendency to get lost in your own head, and that always gets you in trouble, “Who knew you actually had a brain in there?”

You look up at him from your knees, admiring the way his black satin button-down pulls around his chest, tie resting in the middle of his chest. You’re distracted when his hand falls from your cheek and starts to work at his belt instead. You’re not sure if it’s his training or pure instinct that makes you sit up a little straighter, excitement pooling in your gut right alongside your arousal.

He never usually gives you his cock until much later. You must really be impressing him today, and that makes your heart flutter. You think at this point in your life, nothing makes you happier than pleasing your owner like this.

“You know what good puppies like you get, hm?” The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t expecting an answer but you knew it anyway: a reward. You try to calm the raging butterflies in your stomach, beyond pleased with yourself for winning his favor so early in the night. “You want your owner’s cock, baby?”

You nod so fast he thinks you might get whiplash and he laughs at you. You really can be such a puppy sometimes, perking up and panting when offered a treat.

Yunho slips his cock out of his slacks and you swear drool starts to pool shallowly in your mouth. Your eyes trace the veins along his shaft, following them from the base to his leaking, red tip. Without your permission, your mouth falls open automatically, tongue lolling out.

You hear his laugh and you look back up to his face as he smooths his hand over your hair again, this time gathering a handful at the crown of your head. “So perfect, aren’t you?” He shifts his hips a bit closer to your lips, only letting you wrap your lips around the tip before he’s pulling away again, using his hand in your hair to keep you from chasing it.

He does this a few more times before a dry, frustrated sob slips from your mouth and you look up at him pleadingly. Yunho only laughs in your face, finding some kind of cruel pleasure in denying you what you so badly want.

Then, suddenly, his grip on your hair tightens and he slides home, tip pressing insistently at your throat in a way that makes you splutter and gag around his cock. You seem to forget everything you’ve learned at the suddenness of it all, trying to drag in a breath through your mouth and it only makes you cough around him.

“Suck it right,” he huffs, like he’s more upset you’re putting all the time he spent teaching you to waste. “You wanted it so bad and now you’re gonna pretend you don’t know how to suck dick? After all that time I spent training you?”

The flames of embarrassment lick at your cheeks that are now home to two burning sensations instead of one, and you feel like you have to work twice as hard to prove yourself. You try your hardest to relax your throat and hollow your cheeks, reveling in the soft, praising hum he gives you when you do.

That’s all the confirmation he needs that you’re ready before he’s drawing his hips back, thrusting roughly down your throat as he sets his pace. “Fuck, there you go, baby. Knew I didn’t waste my time training your throat.”

He continues his self-indulgent pace and you are sure not to look away from his face as he does, breathing through your nose. The last time you looked away from him when he fucked your face, he spanked your ass raw as he claimed you must have been imagining it was someone else fucking your face even though you both knew that wasn’t true. He acted as if it was the only reasonable explanation anyway, ignoring all of your pleading and insisting that you just forgot, content to beat you until you admitted to what wasn’t true.

You really don’t know what possesses you, but all you knew was that his praise had built your arousal impossibly high and your neglected core was practically screaming at you to give it something, anything. Your hand shifts from where it lays on your thigh, fingers only briefly getting to press at your clit through your panties before a boot comes down on your hand and he’s shoved himself impossibly deep down your throat, your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Pain shoots white hot up your arm and you let out a pathetic scream around him, which only causes you to gag and cough again. His boot presses down harder at your wrist, twisted at such an awkward angle between the bottom of his shoe and the floor. “I know you know better than that, are you trying to piss me off?”

After a long, excruciating moment, he eases his boot off of your wrist and you almost want to cradle it to your chest, but you know better. Instead, you bring it stiffly to rest in your lap like you know he wants.

Yunho pulls your mouth off by your hair rather roughly, and you know that means he expects an answer, so you take two insufficient gulps of air before the words are rushing out of you, broken and pathetic, “N-No, ‘m sorry, s-so sorry, I don’t know why—“

“Of course you don’t know why. Do you know anything?” Yunho sneers at you again, flicking your forehead as if to emphasize just how empty it must be. “What am I even supposed to do with a slutty puppy who can’t follow directions? Especially when she likes to be hit?” It didn’t even seem like he was talking to you anymore, sighing more to himself than anything, but the words still make your knees press harder together despite yourself as he speaks, “Maybe I should just leave, tie you up and let you sit here and suffer— hey.”

Clearly you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were being, if you thought at all before doing something stupid like that, because he kicks at your inner thigh roughly, shoving his boot between your knees and forcing them harshly apart. A slap follows, rougher than any of the others so far, and you whimper as your head snaps to the side, tears spilling freely over your waterline now. “If you keep testing me, I will fuck you up. No more little slaps or spanks, I will beat you fucking bloody. Say you understand.”

“I un-understand, I understand, ‘m sorry,” you cry, fingers curling into your palms where you force your hands to stay on top of your thighs. You want to wipe your tears, but you know he would consider that as ‘testing him’. He’s been over that with you, insisting that you have no right to try to fix the mess he’s made of you.

“Not good enough. Say, ‘I understand Daddy will beat me if I test him again’.”

You try your best to repeat it to him coherently, and you think you manage even though you stuttered and gasped and sobbed your way through the sentence. Yunho seems to think you managed, too, because he sighs as if this was just exhausting for him, “Good to see at least some of your training has stuck.”

As you take a long moment to attempt to slow your breathing and stop the flow of your tears, he takes a step back and sighs, his fingers coming up to hook into his tie, loosening it as he speaks, “What do you think you deserve tonight, after the way you tested me?”

You weren’t stupid, even if your recent choices might say otherwise, so you let out a trembling breath before you say, as much as it pains you to, “N-Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing?”

You shake your head in response, words stuck in your throat.

“Mm, you’re probably right. ‘S a shame, too,” he lets out an annoyed breath, fingers pulling his tie completely free now, pulling it up and over his head, “I mean, really, what’s the point of having a pathetic little slut at my disposal if she’s not even getting my dick wet?” The words are degrading, even to your ears, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you listen to him continue with an exasperated breath, “Y’know, if I can’t get the puppy I have to listen, maybe I should get another—“

As if his words weren’t enough to scare you, he even takes a half-step toward the door.

“No!” You’re yelling out before you can stop yourself, panic clawing at your heart at the idea of being left behind. You shoot forward, tugging at his pant leg pathetically, shuffling forward on your knees only slightly. “No, please, Daddy, you can still use me!”

Yunho appraises you, and inwardly, he almost considers himself a saint for letting your insolence slide, because you know better than to speak out of turn or move from where he put you. He only gives you grace because he knows how the fear and desperation tear at you. Hell, that was the whole reason he said it in the first place; you’re so pretty when you’re scared, and he’s told you as much.

“Hm?” He finally offers after a long moment, enough time for you to second guess yourself and brace for the hit that never comes, “Isn’t that more of a reward for you? Are you saying you do deserve to be rewarded for your behavior?”

“N-No, sir! You— you don’t have to let me cum, I just w-wanna make my owner feel good!”

Yunho literally can’t stop the coo that falls from his lips. He didn’t expect that from you, didn’t expect for you to surrender your own pleasure so plainly just to be allowed to be able to please him. Just like he can’t let bad behavior go unpunished, he can’t let exemplary behavior go unrewarded, so he reaches forward to caress your cheek again, watching as you melt into the touch and nuzzle into his palm.

“Sometimes you make it so hard to remember you’re a good pup at heart, but you really are, aren’t you?” You nod at his words the best you can without straying from the warmth of his palm against your cheek. He smiles softly and swipes his thumb against your cheekbone, bending down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. You keen, obviously, and it almost causes you to miss his whispered order, “Go bend over the bed for me, baby.”

You rise from your spot on shaky legs, knees aching slightly from how long you stayed on them, even against the padded carpet. Bending your upper half over the mattress, you settle your weight on your elbows and wait. You stay there for a while, trying to listen for movement behind you, and you even consider turning your head to see for yourself, but you know that would probably sour his mood again.

You don’t have to wait much longer, though, thankfully, because you feel his hands sliding up your ass, tracing the hem of your panties before he hooks his fingers under it, sliding them down to your knees.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he praises as he spreads you open and admires you, the way you’re so soaked for him. You hope he gives you his cock then, but instead he pulls his hands away and shuffles slightly behind you before he demands, “Hands.”

A whine gets caught in your throat at the realization, but you pull your elbows out from underneath you either way, now face-first in the mattress as you fold your hands behind your back, surrendering them to him.

He hums his approval, and he starts tying your wrists together with what you think is the tie he’d taken off earlier. Once he finishes, he tugs roughly at the bindings, huffing out an amused breath when you let out a pitched whimper at the way the pressure forced your shoulders in an awkward position.

The next thing you feel is the head of his member sliding up and down your slit, catching on your clit in a delicious but fleeting way and then dipping slightly into your entrance. You can’t help the way you squirm, trying to rock your hips to get the friction you crave.

His hands come to clamp down on your hips and hold them still, and he thinks you should be grateful that that’s all you got. When he speaks next, his tone makes as much clear, a low timbre that holds a note of challenge in it. “It’s not for you, is it? This is for me, for you to make me feel good, remember?”

“Mhm, y-yes, sir.”

“Yeah? You do?” He waits for you to nod the best you can with the side of your face pressed into the mattress before he continues, “Then stop squirming and wait.”

It’s all you can do to offer a small ‘mhm’, and usually he’d tell you to use your words, but he didn’t seem to concerned with anything other than your pussy right now. He slides in with one sharp thrust, fully sheathing himself inside of you so suddenly that it makes you scream into the sheets, fingers wringing together behind your back.

“Fuck, s’perfect. Your cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?”

You nod dumbly into the mattress, mouth open and offering a feeble ‘uh-huh’, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth and wetting the sheets.

Of course he expects an answer when you’re most clearly dumb and floaty, the sadist he is, “Answer me. Say, ‘my cunt’s made for Master to fuck’. Go on.”

“My— My cunt’s f’r Master to fuh-fuuuck,” You last word drags when he rewards your attempt with a thrust that somehow had his tip nudging right at your g-spot right away. You start to think you really were made for him.

“There you go,” he praises under his breath, leaning over to splay his hand across the exposed side of your face, pressing it harder into the mattress as he sets his punishing pace. He spanks you, a lot lighter than you know he could have, and urges you more gently than he could have, too, “Arch some more f’me, pup. I know a slut like you knows how.”

You follow the instructions the best you can once they manage to make it through the haze of subspace. Yunho watches where you connect as he thrusts into you, then to your fucked-out face where he’s shoving it roughly into the sheets, and he can’t decide which sight he prefers.

Time kind of blends together as he fucks you, your brain feeling overwhelmingly empty apart from the intrinsic need to please him. Eventually, he snaps you out of the haze when he reaches forward again, wrapping one hand around your throat and hauling you up.

Yunho ignores your squeal as he yanks you into him, your bare back meeting the satin of his shirt, which only serves to remind you just how clothed he is and how naked you are. It’s humiliating in that familiar way you’ve come to enjoy.

His other hand comes to press right above your pelvis, holding you still to meet his pace that he never lets falter. The new angle has you squealing again, squirming against his hold because it’s suddenly too much. Your climax is building too quickly and you think if he continues you won’t be able to stop it.

“Sir, sir—“ you gasp out, trying to warn him that you’re close as if he didn’t already know, as if he doesn’t know your body better than you do. He flexes his fingers around your throat, not quite choking you yet even though you know he would.

“Cum, baby,” he whispers in your ear and it’s so soft and so far removed from what you’d expect him to say that you almost think you’re hallucinating.

He wouldn’t really say that, would he? Not when the whole reason he’s even fucking you is because you surrendered your orgasm? But if he really did say it, it had to be a test. He’s testing me, you think, don’t do it, don’t be stupid, don’t be gullible.

Yunho forces himself into you once more before he stills, especially rough this time in the way his tip collides with your cervix.

“Stupid bitch,” he spits, and there’s a genuine venom in his voice that you rarely hear unless you really mess up. He reaches around you to slap your face, and even if the angle of it is a little awkward and it doesn’t allow him to actually put any real force behind it, you can tell just by his voice that he really is pissed, “Here I am, being a nice fucking owner, letting my slut cum even when she doesn’t deserve it, and you fucking ignore me? You think that’s smart?”

“N-no, ‘m sorry, I thought you were tricking me! Y-You—“

“Shut up before you say some stupid shit that makes me fuck you up.” He’s almost nice with his warning, considering he knew you were about to blame him for your actions and that was a line you couldn’t uncross.

Your orgasm has long since fizzled away, but it’s not far away when he starts thrusting again, rougher than before, if possible. You try your best to listen as he speaks, not wanting to make a similar mistake to the one he’s still scolding you about, “If I tell you to cum, you do it, right then, not a second later. I don’t care what you think, I don’t care even if you’re right and I was tricking you. You cum anyway, and you deal with the consequences of failing your owner’s test, because you do what I fucking say above all else. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes, sir, I understand!” You sob into the air, your head resting back against his shoulder as he continues his brutal rhythm, his fingers tightening around your throat to press at either side, cutting off your air supply.

“Then you’ll cum right now, if you don’t want to find out what I’m like when you really piss me off.” Yunho says it low and dangerous with his lips against your ear.

The combination of his words, the black spots spreading at the corners of your vision, and the way the head of his cock collides with your g-spot every time he sinks home is enough to make it impossible to disobey his command even if you were stupid enough to try.

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, and as soon as it does, he releases his hold around your neck and lets you fall back to mattress. The headrush that comes with having access to oxygen again so suddenly, along with the way he doesn’t pause his thrusts, makes your orgasm genuinely unreal, leaving you shuddering and crying into the sheets.

The pleasure eventually bleeds into pain, overstimulation making your cries escalate into wails when his pace doesn’t falter, still chasing his own release.

“S’too mu—“

You try to plead, try to earn his pity, but he’s quick to interrupt you, his voice breathy and pinched as he gets close, “Shut up. You got yours, baby, lemme get mine.”

Sobs fall freely from your lips, but you don’t try to speak again, ignoring your overstimulation in favor of pleasing your owner.

Yunho bends over you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he lets out a drawn-out moan when he finishes, thrusting into you a few more times to ride it out as he spills his cum in you.

The rest kind of bleeds together as you try to catch your breath, eyes closed and mouth open in a way that you’d probably think looks dumb if you were able to see it yourself, but you still feel the ways he cares for you. You feel the way he slowly pulls out, the way he unties your wrists and leaves tender kisses along the reddened skin, the way he runs a damp rag along your core, cleaning you up. You feel the way he gingerly moves you to lay properly in the bed, head resting safely on the pillow.

You blink slowly back into full consciousness when Yunho is pulling the comforter over you. When he sees you’re back in the land of the living, he pauses, setting the comforter in your lap instead of pulling it to your chest like he’d planned, “You want a bath, baby?”

You shake your head. That sounds like a lot of work right now and the bed is so comfy. “Not right now,” you mumble, throat slightly raspy. You wade through your thoughts in search for the words that convey what you want, and you finally find them, “Jus’ want you.”

Yunho hums, scooting closer to you where he was already sitting in the bed next to you. He lands a few sweet, chaste kisses on your cheeks, your nose, your lips, before he speaks, “You’ve already got me, angel.”

The haze still lingers slightly, but not enough to stop you from letting a dopey smile spread across your face, nodding slightly.

His hand comes to tuck your hair behind your ear, seeming to examine your expression more closely, “Was that too much, baby? The slapping, the things I said? You know if it was, you can tell me.”

No matter how many times you assure him this is what you like and you enjoy it everytime he does it, it seems that his worries of really hurting you or your feelings are ever present. It’s not like they’re only your kinks, either, the reason you both even do this is because he came to you about it first, but his love for you far outweighs any fucked-up fantasy of his. He thinks he’ll always worry.

You shake your head, expending what feels like all of your energy to lean up and press an equally chaste kiss to his lips, “Loved it, Yuyu.”

Yunho chuckles softly, closing the distance to continue peppering kisses all over your face, “‘Course you did,” he says between pecks, “S’cause you’re perfect.”

masterlist

dedicated to my fav @tiramishoon

[stxrrywoo]

THE HEIST ── k.ys & j.wy ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ (chap. one)

╰┈➤ PART ONE ; THE HOSTAGE SITUATION

synopsis ; what started as a normal day quickly turned into a life or death situation when you and your best friend are caught in a hostage situation during a bank heist. however, when you're taken with the men you find out that there is a lot more that awaits for you behind the walls of their hideout and you slowly find yourself not wanting to leave... especially not when wooyoung and yeosang treat you so kindly.

pairing(s) ; yeosang x f!reader x wooyoung

☆ ── wc. ; 12.7k ☆ ── genre ; DARK THEMES!!!, angst, smut, dark romance, love triangle, slow burn(ish), fluff if you squint real fucking hard, psychological thriller/horror ☆ ── gen. tw. ; SOME TAGS ARE HIDDEN AS TO NOT SPOIL THE STORY, READERS DISCRETION ADVISED!!!, cussing, violence, mentions/use of weapons (guns, knives, etc...), use of force, life or death situations, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, captive reader, ateez are all criminals, mentions and depictions of abuse (mental, emotional and physical), phobias (claustrophobia...), mind breakage, ptsd, useage of petnames (including but not limited to: doll, peach/peaches, babydoll, sweetheart, little bird, baby, darlin, sweets...), severe manipulation, derogatory names (bitch...), hongjoong is a bit psychotic, psychological torture, conditioning, threats, hair pulling (in both a sexual and nonsexual light), toxic relationships and behavior, guilt tripping, gaslighting, find nsfw tags below the cut!!

⏤͟͟͞͞ PREVIOUS ── MASTERLIST ── NEXT

☆ ── nsfw tw. ; no other tags to add besides gen. tags!! ☆ ── notes ; well folks... here it is :3 the long-awaited series that I've been teasing at for months hehe. this was supposed to come out yesterday for my birthday, but I got distracted and lazy, so my apologies. but I hope y'all enjoy this helluva ride and let me know what you think so far!! also taglist will remain open until the 30th!!

⏤͟͟͞͞ JOIN THE TAGLIST ── MASTERLIST NAVI ── MAIN NAVI

It was just a normal Friday: you had already finished all your classes for the day and were now sitting in your favorite cafe with your best friend. You listened to her ramble on about something or the other while you sipped on your iced coffee, hoping the caffeine would keep you awake for a little while longer. The sunlight started to peek out from behind the rainclouds, shining through the window and right on to your body, warming you. It was early spring, which brought a lot of rain with it, so you and Bohwa decided to take shelter in the cafe, waiting for it to pass.

Looking outside, you noticed that there were still some stray raindrops falling from tree leaves and awnings. Puddles splashed as cars and bikers drove through them. It was turning out to be a beautiful day, and you were sure it was bound to warm up as well. It reminded you of the day you met Bohwa. She had been in such a rush that she didn't see you and accidentally knocked you down—right into a puddle. She had apologized profusely and offered to buy you a new outfit and a coffee, since she had knocked your coffee down as well.

"Hello? Earth to y/n." Bohwa waved her hand in front of your face, breaking you out of your daze, and you turned your head to look over at her. The dual-haired girl was giving you a playful glare, bringing her straw up to her lips to take a sip, "Are you okay? You've been zoning out all day."

"Hmm, oh yeah, sorry. I don't think I slept very well last night." You told her with a sheepish smile, bringing your own straw up to your lips, taking another sip. Feeling a soft breeze wash over you pulled your attention back to the world outside the window, "It's so nice outside now that it's not raining."

Following your gaze out the window, Bohwa hummed softly, grabbing her phone to check the time. Seeing that it was only a little bit after three in the afternoon, she figured you'd both have enough time to do something before things started to close.

"Why don't we go shopping?" Bohwa suggested, turning her phone off and setting it back down.

You looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, "With what money? I thought you used most of your paycheck for the tuition payment."

"Hey, who said we had to buy anything?" She told you, wiggling her eyebrows, and your face started to contort into deep concern, looking at the girl across from you like she had three heads. Noticing your gaze, Bohwa burst out laughing, catching the attention of a few others in the cafe. She reached over, grabbing your wrist, "I meant window shopping, jeez, we're not going to rob anybody."

"God Bohwa, be more specific next time! I thought you were being for real." You scolded her, and she giggled before pulling her hand back, standing up, and grabbing her bag.

"My bad, my bad," She reached down and grabbed her coffee cup, "c'mon, I know a few places we can go and look." She urged you, and you rolled your eyes playfully, a smile tugging on your lips as you stood from your own seat.

As the two of you walked down the sidewalk, Bohwa linked her arm with yours, once again ranting about something from one of her classes. She pulled you into a few clothing stores, picking up a few things, making a mental note to come back when she had the extra funds to get some. You were stuck next to her, looking at the different options they had before Bohwa pulled you to the next shop.

After a few hours, you saw a little trinket store on the corner of the street, and something about it was pulling you in. You looked over at Bohwa only to see her looking around frantically, causing you to think that something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" You asked, gently reaching out to grab her arm, causing her to look over at you with an awkward smile.

"Yeah, I just really have to go pee." She told you as she looked over your shoulder at a restaurant, "I'm gonna go over there and use the bathroom. Where did you wanna meet?"

"Oh, I was gonna check out that trinket store over there," you told her, pointing to the shop you had seen moments ago. "You can just come find me over there when you're done."

"Okay," Bohwa nodded before leaving you on the sidewalk while she booked it towards the restaurant, apologizing to a few people here and there when she bumped into them.

You laughed softly before making your way towards the trinket store, maneuvering around the crowd of people who were outside. Just as you were about to reach the door, you saw movement out of the corner of your eye. Looking over, you saw a large figure moving towards you, and you barely had a second to react and move before they ran right into you. However, they still clipped your shoulder, causing you to stumble back, a small curse falling from your lips as you tried to steady yourself.

"Hey, watch where…" You got ready to tell the person off, but all you saw was their fading figure, well out of reach to hear anything you had to say. Letting out a sigh, you just shook your head, but as your gaze flickered down, you noticed something lying on the ground that you were sure wasn't there a few moments ago.

Crouching down, you picked up what you could only guess was some kind of necklace. It was an intricate silver piece of jewelry that looked like it had been bent to take the shape of a bird of some sort. Turning it around, you found a glittering red gem sitting in the middle. It was beautiful to say the least, and you wondered if that person had dropped it when they bumped into you. You debated on whether or not to keep it, not sure if you'd ever see that person again, seeing as they were wearing a mask.

Suddenly, there was a hand placed on your shoulder, and your whole body jolted. Your head whipped around, only to find Bohwa standing there. You let out a visible sigh, relief flooding your veins as you stood up.

"Are you okay?" She asked as you pocketed the necklace and you hummed, heart still hammering against your ribs.

"Yeah, some asshole just ran into me." You told her, and her eyes went wide, her hand grabbing your arm as she looked you over.

"Oh, my god? Are you okay?" She asked, obviously worried, and you nodded your head, grabbing your bicep as you finally started to feel some pain in your shoulder.

"Bohwa, I'm fine, maybe just a bruised and sore shoulder, but I'm okay otherwise." You reassured her, and she let out a sigh, letting her arms drop back down to her side.

"They seriously just ran off after bumping into you?" She asked, looking over your shoulder, searching for some unknown person that was no longer there, "Did they at least apologize?"

"What do you think?" You asked her with a deadpan expression, and she met your eyes with a small glare.

"Asshole," she grumbled before looping her arm through yours and turning back towards the shop front. "C'mon, we have enough time to look around, but I have to stop by the bank before we head back to the dorms."

You looked over at her and nodded before walking into the store. You guys didn't stay inside for too long, seeing as nothing was catching your eye, and you had to catch a cab to the bank. Once you got there, you followed Bohwa inside and walked up to join the long line.

"Seems like everyone needed to stop at the bank before close," Bohwa sighed, knowing the two of you would be waiting for a little bit. You laughed softly, grabbing your phone out of your pocket, but just as you expected, the only notifications you had were from random apps on your phone.

Looking around, you noticed that there were only two bank tellers and about twenty customers, including yourself and Bohwa. Then you noticed a bathroom tucked in the far wall and pocketed your phone. You patted Bohwa's arm before pointing towards the restroom.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to the bathroom." You told her, and she nodded with a hum. Then you slipped past her, walking towards the bathroom, humming some tune that was stuck in your head.

Walking in, you noticed that no one else was inside, so with a small triumphant smile, you walked into a stall, latching the door behind you. You quickly did your business, then fixed your jeans, stepped out of the stall, and went up to the bathroom sink. As you washed your hands, you looked up at yourself, a small huff leaving your lips as you noticed that a few strands of hair were blown out of place, but other than that, you looked alright.

Once you finished washing your hands, you walked over to the paper towel dispenser and pulled out a few. Drying your hands, you looked back at the mirror and caught sight of the lights reflecting off something in your coat pocket. Tossing the paper towels into the trash bin, you walked back over to the mirror, fixing your hair before reaching into your pocket. Pulling out the thin chain necklace, you held the charm in your hand, mind wandering back to the person who had bumped into you.

"I wonder if I'll ever run into them again…" You murmured to yourself, moving the charm so the light reflected off the ruby stone in the center. Letting out a huff, you shook your head, "Hopefully not literally though."

However, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang that sounded strangely like a gunshot. A sharp gasp fell from your lips, and you dropped to the ground, shoving the piece of jewelry back into your coat pocket. Your eyes widened as your gaze flicked to the bathroom door; the sound of distant shouting came from outside.

"Everyone on the ground now!" You heard a man shout, followed by a few screams, and your heart started to race in your chest.

"You, where are the keys to the safe?" You heard another man shout, and you came to a terrifying realization that the bank was being robbed.

Fear clawed its way up your spine, and tears stung in your eyes. Hide. That's what you needed to do: hide. Holding your breath, you carefully made your way towards the bathroom stalls, hands shaking.

Then another gunshot was heard, followed by a series of screams, and your heart lurched into your throat. Your blood ran cold as you remembered that Bohwa was still outside. With the robbers.

Your fear was then mixed in with worry, and you slowly turned, facing the bathroom door once more. Bohwa was still stuck out there, and you couldn't leave her alone. Then you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and your body jolted. Tears blurred your vision as you pulled out the device, seeing it was a message from your roommate asking when you would be back. Quickly, a plan formed in your mind, and you unlocked your phone and opened your keypad, typing in the emergency number.

Quietly shuffling towards the door, you pressed your ear against the thick wood, hoping to tell if any of them were nearby. All you heard were muffled voices, some speaking low enough that you couldn't make out what they were saying. Then there were a few shouting orders.

Swallowing thickly, you reached up, cracking the door open just an inch to peek out. The first thing you saw was all the people on the floor gathered together, Bohwa on one end, a little boy latched to her side. Then your breath caught in your throat when you saw a man lying face down on the ground, a pool of blood forming underneath him. You quickly covered your mouth with the back of your hand, holding your phone, tears escaping your eyes and flowing freely down your pale cheeks.

Finally, you looked over at the group of men who were standing around the lobby, each of them holding a large gun. They were dressed head-to-toe in black, even their faces were covered by a mask, and they wore plain black baseball caps. From the angle you were looking at, you could only count four, but you were sure that there were more.

Biting your lip to hold back a sob, you looked down at your phone and hit the call button for emergency services. You brought the device to your ear, and almost instantly, someone picked up the phone, asking what the emergency was.

"Hello, I'm at the Main Central Bank, and it's being robbed right now." You whispered, voice shaky as you tried to keep your volume down.

"Okay, ma'am, can you tell me how many there are?" The man on the other end of the phone asked, and you opened the door just a bit more, flinching when it made a small creaking sound. You waited with bated breath to see if any of the men would notice, but when none did, you closed your eyes, sighing shakily. Sticking your head out just a bit, you noticed that there were two more men standing at the teller counter, holding the poor woman at gunpoint as she searched for something.

"T-There's six that I c-can see." You told him, then your eyes traveled over to Bohwa, seeing her shaking and probably crying. A lump formed in your throat when she looked over at you, her eyes growing wide.

"Alright, and can you tell me how many people are inside with you?" The man asked, his voice startling you, and you almost slipped. However, your heart nearly stopped when Bohwa started to move, her eyes trained on you. You quickly moved your hand to your mouth, motioning for her to be quiet, eyes wide.

"Ma'am?" The man spoke again, but it sounded like it was coming from the other end of the tunnel as one of the men noticed Bohwa's movement and looked at her before he glanced over at you.

"S-Shit." You gasped, scurrying back into the bathroom, letting the door shut, and quickly moving towards a bathroom stall. You latched the lock on the bathroom stall, squeezing your body into the space between the toilet and wall, shaky hand moving up to cover your mouth, muffling your cries.

The operator continued to try to speak to you, but you couldn't comprehend a word he was saying over the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. Heavy footsteps echoed inside the small room, your breath catching when they neared the stall you were in. A loud bang bounced off the walls as the man hit one of the stall doors, causing you to jump, tears streaming down your face.

You tucked your body into the small space, hoping he wouldn't be able to see you in the far corner. Then he finally got to your stall, his feet coming to a stop right outside the door. Your trembling, rapid breathing was the only sound heard in the still silence, and you squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that he'd come in here sooner or later.

"Come on out, sweetheart. I know you're hiding in here." His deep voice filled the air, followed by a chuckle that echoed in your ears.

"Ma'am, are you safe?" The operator asked, but you couldn't bring yourself to move or speak, for that matter. Frozen in place with fear, heart racing so fast you were starting to become lightheaded.

"I'll give you another chance, come out. Now." The man demanded, and your breath hitched at the sound of a gun cocking. Your mind raced with the possibilities that could happen, and more quietly, a muffled sob escaped your covered lips.

You couldn't move, even if you wanted to; your body seemed to be completely glued to that spot, refusing to move an inch. Tears continued to stream down your face, dripping from your chin into your lap, staining your jeans.

A scream erupted from your lips when the door was kicked open, your eyes flying to the door that was now only hanging on by its bottom hinges. The man walked into the stall, narrow eyes glaring at you from over his mask, gun raised, the barrel pointed directly at you.

"Help me, please!" You cried into your phone, and you could hear frantic clicking on the other side, the man reassuring you that the police were on the way.

"Son of a bitch." The man cursed lowly before lowering the gun and making quick strides towards you, snatching the device from your hands and throwing it to the ground at your feet. Another scream echoed in the room when he shot your phone, the gunshot causing your ears to ring, absolute terror blooming in your chest.

Then his eyes were on you once again, a sharp glare burning into your skin, and you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. He stepped back, raising the large gun once more, aiming it at you, and you cried, holding your hands up.

"Get up, right now." He ordered, and you could only nod, slowly pulling your body out of the small space. You kept your movements deliberate, hoping not to alert the man and have him shoot you.

When you were on your feet, standing in front of him, he looked you up and down before stepping forward. You flinched when he roughly grabbed your arm, shoving you out of the bathroom stall and towards the door.

"Go and no funny business, I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head." He threatened, and you weren't about to call whether he was bluffing or not, and walked towards the bathroom door.

He led you back out into the main room, the barrel of his rifle pressed right between the space of your shoulder blades. Tears flowed endlessly down your cheeks as he pushed you towards the other hostages.

"Oh, you got her, nice. I thought you would've shot her." Another one of the perps chuckled as he looked towards you, his eyes crinkling over his mask.

"I'm not trigger-happy like Wooyoung, but she called the cops, so we need to hurry up." The man behind you spoke, shoving you to the ground near Bohwa. Once on the ground, you moved towards your dual-haired best friend, grabbing her shaky hand into your own. You didn't have to talk to her to know that she was absolutely petrified, and so were you, heart thumping in your throat as you looked around, seeing that all of the men around you held rifles of sorts.

"Yeosang is struggling with the safe; there's a double code on it." Another of the men responded, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck if she called the cops, then they'll be here any moment," A man on your far right spoke, agitation lacing his tone, and he glared right at you. "I say we just kill her so she can't cause anymore issues."

Your heart nearly stopped when he stepped towards you, raising his firearm and pointing directly at you. Bohwa screamed, wrapping her arms around your body and holding you close, begging them to stop.

The one that found you in the bathroom stomped over, grabbing the barrel and pushing it down, "knock it the fuck off, we don't need more bloodshed than necessary."

"San's right, keep a level head, we'll be out of here soon." The man by the teller's desk spoke, glaring at the men near you.

You looked up with teary eyes, sobs racked your lungs, and fear dug its claw into your spine, not planning to let go anytime soon. The sound of sirens was heard outside, and you could feel your heart ease slightly, knowing that you and Bohwa would be safe soon. That was until another gunshot went off, screams echoing in the large room.

"Don't get too excited, folks, if we don't get out of here…" The man at the teller counter spoke, lowering his rifle, "Neither will you."

"Captain, don't you think that's a little overzealous?" A taller male who was standing a few feet away from the man spoke, his head turning to look at him.

"Not at all," He chuckled, eyes glancing down to the weapon that sat fully loaded in his hands. "It's either arrest us after we kill everyone here, or they try to save everyone. What do you think they'll choose, hmm?"

Fear clouded your mind as you clung to Bohwa, the little boy who was still tucked into her side, sobbed quietly. The man who was ready to shoot you shoved the other man off him before turning to look at their boss.

"What's the plan, boss? None of us here is equipped to help Yeosang and Seonghwa." The man asked, slowly lowering the rifle in his hands, and you felt a small breath of relief flow out of your lungs.

You looked around the room, seeing that there weren't very many windows that you could see out of without standing, but based on the sounds of the sirens, you knew there had to be multiple cop cars outside. Waiting. Your anxiety started to skyrocket as different scenarios of how this could play out in your head, none of which ended well.

"Why aren't the cops coming?" The little boy next to Bohwa whispered, looking over at you with teary eyes, and you swallowed thickly.

"I don't know, bud, but this should be over soon." You tried to reassure him despite the bile that crept up the back of your throat.

Then something registered in your fear-riddled mind. They couldn't get into the safe because of an encrypted code. Once you were sure that you could crack, and hopefully they'll just leave with their money.

However, before you could speak up, the shrill sound of a phone echoed in the room, causing the others near you to jump. You watched as the man they called Captain picked up the phone, hit a button, and threw the receiver down on the counter.

"Hello?" He answered in a singsong tone, his eyes crinkling as he smirked and looked over at the man standing next to him.

"This is the police. We have the building surrounded. Drop your weapons and step out of the building with your hands raised above your head, and no one will have to get hurt." A male voice flowed through the speaker, and your heart thumped loudly against your ribcage.

"You see, officer, that's where you're wrong. If we have to leave this building, all the people here with us won't be able to come with us." He started, glancing back at the group of hostages, a sinister gleam in his eyes, "at least not breathing."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" The officer asked, and the man laughed. Laughed.

"I have just the plan in mind," The man spoke once more, leaning against the marble countertop. Some of the hostages around you gasped while others cried, fear in every one of their eyes. Bohwa's grip tightened on your body as a small whimper fell from her lips, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Care to share?"

The man laughed in amusement, turning around to grab the receiver end of the phone, "You'll see soon enough, dear officer." Then he hung up the phone before tearing the phone line out of the back of it so they couldn't call again. He then turned back towards his men, a glare adorning his features. "Here's the plan: we need to find a way to open that safe. Once we can get that open, we'll work on our escape plan."

"How are we going to open the safe, boss? None of us is tech-savvy like the other two." The taller male next to the leader spoke, eyes glancing over to the hostages.

"I don't know Mingi, but we'd better figure it out, or I'll personally make sure no one here lives to see another light of day." The man sneered, and you felt your blood run cold, your ears ringing at the implication of his words.

The room then broke out into chaos, and the men around you started to argue amongst themselves while the hostages huddled closer together. You looked around the room as you tried to think of any way to get you and Bohwa, as well as the others, out of here, and there was only one thing that came to mind.

Help them, and they'll let you go.

You swallowed thickly before leaning away from Bohwa, catching her attention. Noticing that you were looking at the men, your eyes flickering between them, she could see the gears turning in your head. She grabbed your arm, pulling your attention back to her, and she shook her head violently. You patted her hand, reassuring her and clearing your throat.

"E-Excuse me?" You called out, catching the attention of the man who found you in the bathroom, San, you believed his name was, as well as the man who stood next to him. They both looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, the other man's fingers tightened around his gun, and your heart rate spiked.

"Shut up and stay down." The man sneered, and you flinched, holding your hands up.

"You guys just want the money, right?" Your voice shook slightly as you looked at them before your eyes caught the bosses. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you continued when they didn't stop you, "I can hack the system and get past the encrypted code to open it."

"Y/n, stop," Bohwa begged, tugging on your shirt, but you just ignored her and looked up at the men, hoping they wouldn't think you were bluffing.

The leader of the group pushed himself off the counter and stalked towards you. Your breath caught in your throat when he pushed past the two men and crouched down in front of you. He reached forward, grabbing a stray strand of hair that fell from your hair clip, twirling it around his finger.

"So you're telling me that you can crack open a safe my men have worked hours on?" He asked, his tone almost condescending, and your eyes widened at his close proximity. Then he moved his hand away from your face, resting it on his bent knees. "What makes you think we'll believe you?"

You let out a shaky breath, eyes staying glued to the man in front of you as fear encased your entire being. "Because the code they're trying to crack isn't just a simple one, it has multiple layers, and you have to work quickly in order to get through them all before it kicks you out and you have to try again."

The man in front of you hummed, raising his hand to point at the man behind him, "radio Yeosang and see where they're at."

"Got it." He nodded, grabbing the walkie-talkie attached to his belt and bringing it to his mouth. "Yeosang, do you copy? Where are we with cracking the safe?"

"There's more code than I thought, and this damn thing keeps kicking me back before I can get far enough." A voice crackled through the radio a few moments later, and all three men's eyes flickered back to you. "This goes beyond my capabilities to crack."

The man in front of you takes the walkie-talkie from the other man, bringing it to his mouth, "Hold on, we have someone here who might be able to help you."

You watched with bated breath as he handed the radio back to the man behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. He then reached towards you once more, and you didn't dare to move a single inch. A small gasp fell from your lips when he grabbed your chin, forcing your face up.

"You get one chance. One. If you fuck up or try anything sneaky, I'll have my men put a bullet in your pretty head, then we'll take your cute little friend here, and I can't promise we'll be gentle." He warned, and your body went still at the mention of Bohwa. Seeing the terror in your eyes, he smiled, and you could tell by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Wooyoung," The man calls for someone, and a few moments later, another man steps up to his side, "take her back there to Yeosang and Seonghwa. Keep an eye on her, and if she tries anything, kill her."

He then released his hold on your chin, shoving your head to the side before standing up and moving away from you. You brush some of your hair out of your face before looking back up when a shadow was cast over you, seeing a pair of fox-like eyes staring down at you.

"Get up," He demanded, finger resting just shy of the gun trigger, and you nodded, slowly raising up on shaky legs. Bohwa grabbed at your wrist, pleading with you not to go, but you just looked down at her with a soft smile.

"It's okay, I'll be right back." You tried to reassure her even though you didn't fully believe it yourself. She reluctantly released her hold on your wrist upon seeing the rifle Wooyoung was inching up.

"I wouldn't make promises you can't keep, doll," The man before you chuckled, and you turned to look at him, biting your tongue to keep yourself from saying something that could get you into trouble.

Then he led you across the lobby and towards a back door, holding it open; he motioned for you to go first. Without a second thought, you walked through the threshold, looking at your surroundings.

"Keep going," The fox-eyed male instructed, and you continued walking down the dimly lit hallway, heart hammering in your chest. The air between the two of you was silent; the only sounds you could hear were the echoes of your footsteps and the dull thrum of the AC.

Getting to the end of the hall, Wooyoung instructed you to turn to your right, and before too long, you saw two other men standing in front of a large safe door. One stood close to the entrance of the room, gun held tightly in his hands, while the other stood in front of a laptop, typing furiously but cursing when it kicked him out again.

"Who's this?" The dark, long-haired man by the door asked, looking you up and down, making your hair stand tall. Wooyoung shoved you further into the room, making you stumble slightly, a gasp falling from your lips.

"She claims she can crack the code," Wooyoung informed his two teammates, and you looked over, meeting the eyes of a redhead. His gaze was cold, sending a shiver racing down your spine and locking your feet in place.

"And you believed her?" The redhead asked, eyes moving from your form to the fox-eyed male that still stood behind you, gun slug over his shoulder now.

"She called the code layers before you said anything." Wooyoung shrugs, moving over to you and grabbing your bicep, dragging you over to the laptop, and redhead you deciphered to be Yeosang.

"Whatever, if it gets us outta here faster, have at it, peaches." Yeosang took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest as Wooyoung shoved you in front of the device. Your eyes flickered over the fox-eyed male who just raised an eyebrow before you looked at the device, codes lining the screen.

You sniffle, wiping your face free of stray tears and clearing your vision before wiping your hands on your jeans. Stepping close to the laptop, you placed your fingers on the keyboard before you read the already existing code, easily finding the odd ones out that you'd guess were the answers. Then your fingers flew across the keyboard, eyes quickly scanning the screen for the answers, and before too long, you got to the last screen. With bated breath, you pressed Enter after entering the code, and the screen went black.

Your hands shook as you let them fall to your sides, and you saw Wooyoung move his rifle to his front. Almost all the air was left in your lungs when he aimed it at you, but then the device lit up, the words 'access granted' appearing in big green letters.

"Did she get it?" The man by the door asked, turning and stepping towards the three of you.

"Fuck yeah, she did," Wooyoung nodded, dropping the firearm and pulling his mask down to reveal a wide, smug smile, and he watched as the vault door clicked before opening slowly. You looked over at him with wide eyes, taking in his appearance, and something about him seemed familiar, but you didn't get a chance to think for too long before Yeosang was moving past you.

"Captain, we're in." He spoke into the walkie-talkie, eyes locked onto the massive vault before him.

You took a hesitant step over to look inside, your eyes going wide at all of the cases that sat inside. The amount of money in there could have you and Bohwa living comfortably for the rest of your lives, not having to worry about another late tuition fee or even food, for that matter. It was a dream that you never thought you could imagine happening, but as Wooyoung glanced over at you, all of it went down the drain. You were only a hostage in this situation; none of this would have ended up in your hands.

"Good. Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho are on their way back there. Grab everything valuable, and we'll meet at the rendezvous spot." The man from the lobby came through the radio, and you wondered if he'd toss you back into the lobby with Bohwa. However, your blood turns to ice as his voice crackles through the speaker again: "And grab the girl, we're taking her with us."

You slowly backed away in fear, heart hammering in your chest and fresh tears pooling in your eyes. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen; you were just going to open the safe so they could get their money and leave. Now, not only did they want the money, but they wanted you as well. A sharp gasp fell from your lips when your back met the wall. You placed your hands flat against the cool cement.

"We gotta move fast, I'm pretty sure those pigs know we got it open." A new voice was heard from the hall, and your eyes snapped over. Through your teary vision, you made out three figures, two of which you recognized from the lobby, but the man standing in front with his mask hanging off his ear must have been one you didn't get a good look at.

"Hey, you," Your heart nearly stopped as the man who had threatened to shoot you stepped closer. His gun was hanging from his side, but you knew he could quickly grab it if needed. "Do you know how to open the drawers?"

Your eyes went wide at his question, and you shook your head, tears dripping from your eyelashes. Just as he was about to reach you, the unmasked man grabbed his arm with a sharp glare.

"Knock it off, Jongho. We're already in the system. Yeosang just has to go in and unlock it." He sneered, pulling the man back, and he quickly shoved him off. The redhead from before walked out of the vault, his bag already full and zipped.

"Y'all are just wasting time, let's go." He rolled his eyes, his mask pulled down below his chin. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in his full appearance, light freckles dusted his cheeks, and the black jewelry that decorated his nose and lip made him look ethereal. Catching your eye, he raised his eyebrow, the low lighting reflecting off another piercing, and you quickly averted your gaze, mentally shunning yourself as your cheeks flushed.

"Mingi, stay out here with her, don't let her run off." The man standing next to Jongho pointed to the other taller man, who hummed.

Your feet stayed frozen in place as every one of the men stepped inside the vault, and the sound of metal clinking and banging filled the air. The man outside the vault stood just a few feet away, eyes trained on the vault but flickering to you and the room entrance every few seconds. All you wanted to do was get to Bohwa and go home, safe. Yet with how things were going now, you weren't sure that was possible.

'Stupid, you should've just kept your mouth shut.' You murmured to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and pushing more tears down your cheeks.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before you heard the man's voice traveling out of the vault, and you felt a hand on your shoulder. A small sob fell from your lips when your eyes snapped open, seeing the very fox-eyed male that pulled you back here. His lips curled into a borderline sinister smile, his lip ring wrapping snugly around his plump lip.

"Let's go, doll, we've got one last thing to do before we leave." He told you, moving his hand to your bicep and tugging you away from the wall. You bit your tongue to keep the sounds of your sobs to a minimum as Wooyoung followed behind the man they called Mingi and the other taller male, his hand still tightly wrapped around your arm.

You kept your gaze downcast, staring at your dirty sneakers as they all led the way back to the lobby. Each of them sported a large duffel bag filled with god who knows what, but probably extremely valuable items along with cash. The sounds of their heavy footsteps echoed in the halls, adding to the pounding that had started in your head.

Before too long, they stopped before the lobby door, fixed their masks, and Mingi opened it, and Wooyoung pulled you through and towards the counter where the leader was standing. The man looked over at you, his eyes crinkling as he smiled and reached out towards you, patting your cheek.

"Well, would you look at that, the little bird does know what she's talking about." He delivered a particularly hard slap, causing you to flinch, breath catching in your throat.

Then he was looking over at all of the hostages, his crazed eyes glancing at each of them. Following his gaze, you found Bohwa already staring at you, her eyes wide in horror as they kept you near them.

"Ah, attention everyone, please." His voice boomed in the large room, echoing off the marble walls, "It is with great sadness that I announce that our time here together has come to an ungratifying ending." He shook his head with faux disappointment, and you felt bile creep up your throat. "We have collected what we came here for, plus a bit more." his eyes shifted over to you, and your body froze. "Good job on staying alive. Well… most of you." Your gaze shifted to the dead security guard that wasn't but three feet from the huddled group of hostages, "You all will be released soon after we've made our way out, but until then, I suggest you stay put."

A collective sigh of relief flooded from the group of hostages, a few smiling at their loved ones. However, Bohwa's eyes were still trained on your form, eyes flickering to where Wooyoung was still holding you with an iron grip. You tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but it did very little in the current situation.

"There's one more thing." The room fell into a hushed silence once more when the man before you spoke. He smiled before turning to look at you, reaching over, grabbing your other bicep, and pulling you from Wooyoung's grip, eliciting a gasp from your lips. "It has come to my attention that we've found a valuable asset among you, and she has seen my men's faces. So she will be coming with us."

Upon hearing this, your knees threatened to buckle underneath you, and you heard a few gasps from the crowd. Then you heard shuffling, lifting your gaze, you saw Bohwa start to stand up, tears streaming down her face, and your heart skipped. The sound of guns cocking echoed off the walls, and you took a half step forward, tears blurring your vision.

"Bohwa, stop!" You yelled at her, trying to pull your arms from the man's grasp, but he just dug his fingers into your skin. Looking over, you saw the tall man from the vault as well as Wooyoung holding up their rifles, and panic started to flood your veins. Without much thought, you grabbed the man's wrist and looked up at him, "I'll go, just let me talk to her, please." You pleaded with the man, and he just raised an eyebrow at you.

Not saying a word, he lifted his hand and motioned your dual-haired friend over, but not a single one of the men lowered their firearms. He didn't let go; if anything, his grip tightened as Bohwa got closer, causing you to flinch in pain.

"Y/n, what's going on?" She asked, stepping up to you with tears streaming down her cheeks, and you just offered her a small smile.

"Bohwa, I'll be okay, just go sit back down and wait for the doors to open," You told her, taking her outstretched hands, and she wrapped her fingers tightly around your trembling hand.

She shook her head, "I-I can't, I'm sorry,"

Before you could even question why she was apologizing, she was moving, wrapping something around your wrist, and the clicking sound echoed in your ears. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the man tried to pull you away, but it was too late, and you looked down, seeing a pair of handcuffs connecting your wrist to hers. Your eyes went wide when the men around you started to move, incoherent shouts bouncing off the walls and gun barrels aimed right at your best friend.

"Just fucking shoot her and take the cuff off." One of the men shouts, and your body moved before you could register, pulling your arm out of the man's with surprising strength and wrapping yourself around Bohwa, misty eyes glaring at all of the robbers around you.

"Don't fucking touch her." You hissed, voice nearly cracking at the end, and your fingers curled into the fabric of Bohwa's t-shirt. "If you hurt her, I will fight like hell, making sure you don't get out of here without the police coming in."

The room went silent, save for the few sobs from the hostages and your raging heartbeat ringing in your ears. Your glare never dissipated as the men stared at you, gauging whether or not you were being serious. However, the leader chuckled as he brought his hands up, clapping, the sound making your stomach turn.

"Bravo, amazing performance, I might say." He nodded his head before motioning for his men to lower their weapons and move towards you. You took a small step back, pulling Bohwa with you as she looked over at the man from where her head was tucked into your chest. "Now tell me, how would you do that?"

Swallowing thickly, you steel yourself, straightening your body, "There's an emergency hatch release on the barricade, which I already entered the code for back at the vault. All I have to do is hit the button." You told him, pointing at the teller desk, and a small keyring fell from your fingers. Upon seeing it, the man's eyes narrowed, and the redhead from the vault stepped forward, curses falling from his lips. "I press the button, and the police will come flooding in here, giving you no time to escape."

"You fucking bi—" The man in front of you inhaled sharply, stopping himself, and nodded his head, "you're lucky we need you, otherwise I'd put a bullet in both you and your friend's heads."

"Boss, what do we do?" The dark-haired male who had been guarding the door, Seonghwa, asked, stepping up to the shorter male.

He gritted his teeth before stepping towards you, holding an expectant hand out, "Give me the key chain, sweetheart." Your eyes flickered down to his hand to the other men who still had their fingers hovering around the trigger. Becoming fed up with your lack of cooperation, he grabs the pistol that was attached to his belt, aiming it right at Bohwa. "Last chance, don't mistake my leniency for kindness."

Your heart lurched into your throat, and you felt Bohwa's grip tighten on your shirt, her tears staining the fabric. There were only two possible outcomes here: he kills Bohwa while she's in your arms and takes the release switch during the chaos, still taking you with them, or you just give it to him, and both you and Bohwa go with them, hopefully unscathed.

With trembling fingers, you take a small step forward, placing the keyring in the man's outstretched hand, and he nods. Bringing the keyring closer to him, he inspects it before tossing it to Yeosang, who catches it with ease. Then his eyes were back on you, fury burning in his brown orbs.

"Go," He demanded, motioning towards the teller's desk where Wooyoung and Jongho were standing. Not daring to defy him while he pointed a gun at you, both of you moved towards the men, pulling Bohwa along with you. She slipped her hand that was attached to yours into your palm, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Perfect. We'll be on our way now; the doors have been programmed to open after thirty minutes. It's been fun, wouldn't you say?" He asked, tone condescending, causing the hostages to cower in fear, but none said a single word.

He then turned to his men, a scowl covering his features, and moved towards the back door, instructing Wooyoung and Seonghwa to grab you and Bohwa. They led both of you back down the hallway where the vault was, everyone else filing in behind. Bohwa squeezed your hand tightly, and you glanced at her, guilt clawing itself into your mind. Had you just stayed put, neither of you would be in the predicament you're in right now.

A sudden rush of annoyance flooded your veins when the leader stopped in front of a plain brick wall. "What exactly is the plan here? Are you really stupid enough to try to blow a hole in the wall?" The words tumbled out of your lips before you could stop them, and in seconds, your head was thrown to the side, pain blooming across your cheek.

"Keep that mouth of yours shut," The man growled, tugging his mask down, revealing a pair of snake bite piercings and a sneer, "next time it won't be just a harmless slap."

Tears stung in your eyes as you turned your head to look at him, Bohwa reaching for your face with panic-stricken eyes. You held the man's furious gaze for a moment before Bohwa touched your lip, causing you to hiss, flinching away from her touch.

"You're bleeding," She stated, eyes glued to where ruby red blood seeped from your busted lip.

"I-I'm fine." You choked out, tongue judging out to press against the open wound, the metallic taste of blood overwhelming your taste buds.

"Yeosang," the leader called out to the redhead who walked up to the wall, and you watched him press against a tile, causing it to pop open, revealing a keypad.

Rolling his sleeves up, you caught a glimpse of ink on his left arm, but you didn't stare too long before he was typing in a code. You held your breath as you heard gears start to whirl, and the wall cracked open, and inside was an elevator. Suddenly, you realized why they chose this bank of all the ones in the city. Because they had a good way out that probably no one but the designers knew about.

"We'll go down in two groups, just to make sure the police aren't on our tail." The leader instructed before his eyes landed on you once again, "Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Mingi, and San, you'll go down with these two. Don't let them out of your sight."

"Aye aye," Wooyoung nodded at the man with a smirk as he and Seonghwa tugged the two of you towards the elevator, your heart hammering in your chest the closer you got. Once those doors closed, you would really be trapped with no way to get you and Bohwa out.

Bohwa grabbed your hand and held you close to her body as you stood against the back wall. San and Mingi filled in behind the four of you, and San pushed the button that Yeosang told him to. The ringing in your ears was almost deafening as you watched the doors slowly close, your breathing accelerating as the machine started to move. Noticing your panic, Bohwa squeezed your hand, prompting you to look over at her, more tears brimming along your waterline.

"Please don't start crying," Seonghwa grumbled as he looked over at your pathetic form, bottom lip pulled between your teeth, and Bohwa looked over at him with a glare.

"I get y'all think you're this all-powerful being, but have some compassion, she doesn't do well in enclosed spaces." She told the dark-haired male, who just rolled his eyes, but she ignored him as she looked over at you.

Your hands shook like crazy at your sides, and your heart felt as if it were trying to burst out of your chest. There was movement at your side, but you didn't even notice it until there was something placed on your head, the person forcing your gaze down to the ground.

"Just focus on something else," Wooyoung's voice was smooth as his hand fell away from the bill of his hat, and without meaning to, you caught the sleeve of his jacket, the silver of his rings catching your attention.

Bohwa's hand wrapped around your wrist, but your attention was zeroed in on the assortment of rings that decorated the man's hand. Wooyoung didn't say a word, nor did he move, as your smaller hand held his wrist, fingers pressed right against his pulse point.

Feeling his steady heartbeat under your fingertips either eased your own or tricked it into calming down. Either way, you felt your heart start to slow, the ringing in your ears slowly dying down, and all you could hear was the turning of the gears. Then it came to a stop, the metal box jerking slowly before the doors opened.

Pulling his wrist from your hand, Wooyoung grabbed your bicep and led you and Bohwa out of the elevator. Once out, you finally lifted your head and watched as the doors closed, returning to the surface level. Mingi slung his rifle over his shoulder and took off his ball cap, running his fingers through his long hair, the color almost silver in the dim light. San only took his mask off, fixing the hat so he could see, while Seonghwa ripped the cap off before shaking his head.

"Should we put them in the SUV?" San asked, pointing to you and Bohwa, who was checking you over to make sure you were okay.

"Are you gonna sit in there with them?" Mingi asked, balling the cap in his hand and raising an eyebrow at the feline-eyed male who just rolled his eyes.

The two then started bickering, catching your attention, and you looked at them from under the bill of the cap, wondering if they were always at each other's throats. Growing annoyed with their bickering, Seonghwa walked over to Mingi and snatched the car keys from his hand, earning a glare from the taller male.

"Knock it the fuck off, or would you like for Hongjoong to leave your asses here for the cops?" He asked, glaring back at the silver-haired male before giving San a similar look, then turning towards Wooyoung, "Sit with them in the SUV; the others should be here shortly."

Wooyoung hummed before gently tugging on your arm and guiding you and Bohwa towards a sleek black SUV hidden in the shadows. He opened the door and instructed the two of you to get in the far back after turning on the cabin lights. Bohwa tugged on your wrist, a look of unease on her face and you just shook your head, you couldn't escape not when you had no idea where this place even was.

Climbing into the car, you let Bohwa sit next to the window before sitting next to her, your body pressed against hers, and she grabbed your hand for comfort. Wooyoung got in next, sitting in one of the middle seats and shutting the door, turning the cabin light off, leaving the three of you in darkness.

Your eyes then glanced down to the pair of handcuffs that attached you to your dual-haired best friend. Reaching down with your free hand, you grabbed the chain, tugging on it slightly and catching Bohwa's attention.

"This was really stupid, I hope you know that." You told her bluntly, gaze flickering up to meet hers from under the cap that you were still wearing. Her eyes narrowed into slits, glaring at you, wondering where you even got the audacity.

"Says the one who offered to hack into the bank system, you'll be lucky not to get arrested if the cops find us." She hissed and your heart lurched, she was right, you had become an aid to these people the moment you offered to open the vault. All words died on your tongue as you looked at her, but Bohwa just sighed, "I'm sorry, I know you were just hoping they'd leave after getting what they wanted. I also wasn't thinking, I just didn't want you to be forced to go or go alone."

You let out a sigh, slipping your hand into hers again, squeezing it. Wooyoung turned in his seat, looking back at the two of you.

"Your friend is right, that was a pretty ballsy move." He stated, looking at Bohwa before his eyes flickered over to you. His gaze lingered for a moment before he let it fall to the locked cuffs, "Did you even grab the keys?" He asked, and Bohwa's lips curled inward as you looked over at her, curious, and a deep sigh left Wooyoung's lips when she shook her head. "Of course not."

He reached up, turned the cabin lights back on, and shrugged his leather jacket off, revealing his ink-covered arms. You couldn't help but stare at the designs, most too hard to make out in the dim lighting, but the ones you could see seemed to tell a story you may never hear. Noticing your gaze, the dark-haired male smirked, sending you a wink that caused your face to burn.

"If you want a closer look, all you gotta do is ask, doll," He teased, grabbing something from the center compartment before squeezing between the middle seats to crouch in front of you. Put the objects he grabbed in one hand he grabbed your joined wrists with the other. "Hold still," He instructed, scooting forward, and your heart leaped into your throat when he rested his arm over the top of your thighs, eyes focused on the piece of metal.

Not a word was spoken as he worked on picking the lock on your side of the cuff, his jaw clenched tightly. Your eyes watched him work, a piece of dark hair fell from behind his ear, and you had the sudden urge to brush it back. Bohwa watched you with furrowed eyebrows, and as her eyes burned into your skin, you looked over at her, eyes wide in realization you'd been caught.

Her gaze said all that was needed to be said, her eyes asking if you were insane, and you swallowed thickly. You knew you shouldn't be looking at the man in front of you like that, he had been a part of a heist and kidnapped you for god sake. Yet as you felt the weight of his arm on your thighs, you could only feel a strange sense of safety, or maybe you were just going crazy.

Averting your gaze back down to his arm, you could make out what looked like a tree branch of sorts on his bicep that trailed down to his upper forearm. The branches almost looked like water flowing down a waterfall, then you saw the pinkish-red splotches. Upon looking more closely, you realized they were cherry blossom petals.

"There," Wooyoung's voice startled you out of your daze, and you looked at your now free wrist, the skin red from how tightly Bohwa had latched it. He then grabbed the now open cuff, using it to tug Bohwa's wrist further into your lap, causing her to hiss in pain. She glared at him as you pulled your wrist to your chest, rubbing the sore skin with your other hand.

When he was done, he pulled the cuffs away and pushed away from your lap, sitting back in his seat. He glanced over at you with a teasing smirk, seeing the red that dusted your cheekbones, but didn't say a word. Then the door was being pulled open, Yeosang stood there with a sneer etched onto his features as he pulled the mask off his face.

"Backseats all yours." Wooyoung teased the redhead, who only glared at him before climbing into the car, taking the empty seat next to you. Your breath caught in your throat when his thigh pressed against yours.

You met Bohwa's gaze silently as the men opened the trunk and started placing things inside. Neither of you dared to turn to look, fully aware that they still had guns on them. Then the trunk slammed shut, and more people climbed into the car. Mingi took the empty seat next to Wooyoung while San and Yunho sat in the front, the latter in the driver's seat.

"What's the plan, Yunho?" San asked, latching his seatbelt as he looked at the older male who was looking out the windshield to find the other car the rest of the team was in.

"We do as we discuss, lose the masks and hats. Keep things civil if we get stopped, then get back to base." He told the younger male, sparing him a glance before starting the vehicle, the engine easily roaring to life, and your heart started hammering. All of the guys who were still wearing the masks or hats took them off, handing them to Mingi to shove into the space under the driver's seat, making sure they weren't visible.

In your spot, you could see clearly out the front windshield, and you watched as a small sedan-type car drove past the front of the SUV. You were sure that Yunho would pull out and follow the others, but instead, he pulled forward and turned in the opposite direction.

"When we make it out of the main city, those two need to be blindfolded," Yunho spoke again, driving down a dark tunnel, and the redhead next to you nodded, eyes flickering over to you.

You weren't sure how long the car had been driving, the darkness making it hard to keep track of time. Bohwa's grip on your hand tightened, her leg bouncing under your joint hands, and you squeezed her hand back, hoping to ease her nerves a bit, but to no avail. Then, when the car finally came out from underground, you had to bring your hand up to block the bright garage lights.

Glancing out the window, you noticed that it was just a normal parking garage, cars lining the walls. You wondered if this was a public parking garage because almost all of the cars you saw were luxury vehicles. However, you weren't given the chance to dwell on it when Yunho pulled up to the exit, and your heart stopped when you noticed two uniformed police standing by the exit. Bohwa tugged on your hand discreetly, thinking that this might be your chance to get out, but that thought quickly died when you felt something hard press against your side, and warm air washed over your ear.

"Don't even think about it," Yeosang growled, causing a chill to run down your spine, and you quickly nodded, not daring to say a word.

You tugged on Bohwa's hand, gaining her attention, and she looked at you with hopeful eyes, but that hope faded away when she saw the terror in your eyes and the glare the redhead was giving from your other side.

Pulling up to the exit, Yunho rolled down his window with a small smile, "Good evening, officer."

"Hello fellas, what are y'all doing out so late in the evening?" The police officer asked, bending down enough to look inside the vehicle. San gave him a dimpled smile with a simple nod.

"Just taking these guys back home, we were hanging out up in my place," Yunho told him, the words rolling off his tongue like silk. No one would dare question whether or not he was lying.

"Ah, well, you'd best get on that. Police are gonna be everywhere for a while after the robbery." The officer explained, and Yunho nodded while Wooyoung gasped, almost too dramatically but in a way that didn't make him suspicious.

"There was a robbery?" He asked, causing the officer to look to the backseat, where the long-haired male was staring at him in disbelief. You watched with bated breath, the weight of the pistol against your side heavy.

"Yeah, over at the bank just around the block here." The older man nodded before fixing his gaze back on Yunho, who offered him another smile, "Well, you folks better get a move on, have a good night."

"You as well, sir," Yunho nodded his head before driving out of the garage, rolling the window up. As soon as the window was all the way up, the smile dropped from Yunho's face, replaced by a look of disgust. "Stupid pigs," he grunted, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror and catching your gaze, but you were quick to avert your eyes.

Yeosang didn't remove the firearm from your side until Yunho drove out of city limits and told him to blindfold you and Bohwa. He holstered the gun before grabbing the fabric Wooyoung was holding out to him, giving you a pointed look.

"Turn around," He commanded, and your stomach churned at his low tone, bile creeping up your throat once more at the thought of not being able to see where you were going. However, you didn't utter a word as you turned your body so you were facing Bohwa, who was watching you with wide eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat when the dark fabric was brought over your eyes, stealing your sight away. His fingers brushed the tips of your ears, the sensation causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. Swallowing thickly, you squeezed Bohwa's hand when you felt the fabric tighten around your head, then he was moving away from you.

All you saw was black; barely any light came through the fabric, making all your other senses enhance. You heard Yeosang shuffle behind you—felt him move. A sharp gasp fell from your lips when his hands found your hips, moving your body over to his spot and separating you and Bohwa. You started to stand and protest, but his hand landed on your thighs, just shy of your core, and pushed you back down.

"Stay put," Yeosang demanded, adding pressure to your legs when you tried to move, but you went completely still, feeling his lip brush against your ear again, "unless you wanna drive back with a dead best friend, then I suggest you keep your ass still." He threatened, and the weight of his words knocked the air right out of your lungs.

"Leave her alone, asshole," Bohwa cried out, worried that the redhead would hurt you, and Yeosang glared at her.

"Wooyoung, do we have any more of those zip ties?" Yeosang asked, not taking his hand off your body until he grabbed the black zip ties the younger male was holding out. Yeosang grabbed your wrists in his hands, quickly tying them together before finally moving away and turning towards the dual-haired girl on his other side.

"Need a gag too?" Wooyoung asked, a teasing smirk spreading across his face as he watched Yeosang snatch Bohwa's wrists, tying them tightly and causing her to yelp. The redhead didn't say a word as he took the other piece of fabric from Wooyoung and forced it over Bohwa's lips, muffling her protests.

"I'm two seconds away from bashing your head into the window," Yeosang growled, and your heart dropped, fingers curling into fists.

"Bohwa, stop please." You begged her, worried that they would actually hurt her.

"You heard your friend Bohwa." Wooyoung's tone was all mockery, and Bohwa stopped moving when Yeosang's fingers tangled in her hair, jerking her head back. With a sneer, Yeosang tied the fabric around her eyes, not caring that he caught some of her hair in the knot.

"God damn," Yeosang groaned, grabbing the seatbelt roughly and snapping it in place over Bohwa's body, making sure the mechanism locked. Then he sat down in the middle seat, a scowl on his face from having to deal with you two.

You brought your knees up to your chest, hooking your bound arms over them and burying your face in your thighs. Noticing your movement, Yeosang glances over at you, his gaze softening just a little bit. He felt bad for you, that such a pretty girl like you got caught up in their mess, but then again, it was your fault for trying to be brave.

Your head spun as the car drove down the roads, so many thoughts spiraled, and you wondered if your roommate was worried. If anyone you knew was worried about where you went. But you already knew the answer to that, your parents couldn't care less, too worried about your brother to care, and the only friend that would care was stuck in this car with you.

Slowly, you started to feel yourself slipping into the blackness of slumber, the adrenaline finally wearing off, leaving behind exhaustion. Your breathing began to slow, and your muscles relaxed, causing your body to slip to the side as Yunho turned.

Yeosang's body went stiff as your body fell over onto his, his eyes flickering over to you, ready to tell you off. However, when he caught sight of your parted lips and lax body, he knew instantly that you were asleep. His posture relaxed, and, against his better judgment, he leaned back so your head rested against his chest.

The scent of sweet vanilla mixed with cherries flowed into Yeosang's nose, nearly intoxicating the male. He glanced down at you, brushing some of your hair out of your face before bringing a few strands to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Wooyoung glanced back just as Yeosang dropped your hair, raising an eyebrow at the redhead, a slight hint of annoyance gleaming in his eyes. Yeosang, however, just gave him a deadpan stare, pressing the pads of his fingers against your neck, right against your pulse point, causing your body to shiver. The two men held eye contact for a moment, tension forming between them even if neither said a word.

—

"Finally, we're fucking home," Mingi exclaimed, pulling you from your slumber, and your body jerked, panic flooding your chest when you couldn't see anything but black.

'Shit, shit, shit, did I fall asleep? Where's Bohwa?' You asked yourself frantically, reaching out to find your dual-haired friend. However, heat rushed up your neck when you touch someone's thigh, a low groan flowing into your ears.

Yeosang grabbed your wandering hands, tugging your body closer to his until his nose bumped into yours, and you gasped. Your heart started to hammer in your chest as you felt his warm breath fan over your parted lips.

"I'd watch where you put your hands, peaches, or you'll get yourself in trouble." He warned you, and you swallowed thickly, nodding your head. "Good girl,"

Your breath hitched in your throat at the praise, heat turning your cheeks a deep shade of red. Then the cloth covering your eyes was pulled away, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut at the sudden light that came from the cabin light. Blinking a few times, you looked around the SUV, seeing that Mingi and Wooyoung had already gotten out, leaving the doors open. However, you saw Wooyoung standing just on the other side of the door, talking to Seonghwa.

"Let's go," Yeosang stood from his spot, tugging you up out of yours as well, and that's when you noticed that Bohwa was still sitting in her seat, her head lying back. Panic started to flood your system thinking they had done something to her, but when you noticed that she was moving a small sigh of relief fell from your lips.

The redhead guided you out of the car, his hand lingering just a moment too long on your lower back. Deciding that it was best to ignore it, you just stepped out of the vehicle, your legs nearly giving out on you due to not moving for so long. A small gasp fell from your lips when you stumbled but before you could fall a pair of strong hands wrapped around your waist, holding you steady.

"Watch your step there, doll," Wooyoung chuckled, helping you stand straight, and the smell of his cologne invaded your senses. You grabbed his forearm as you looked up at him before looking over and the house before you had your eyes widening.

"W-Who…?" Your voice trailed off as you took in the huge house that sat before you. The white brick was covered in flowered vines. There had to be at least two stories, maybe even a basement. Yet the only thought in your head was why would they rob a bank when they owned this.

Seeing your look of astonishment, Wooyoung chuckled, pulling away from you to grab your bicep, "Don't let this perceive us, it belongs to boss man, we just stay here." He told you, motioning to the ginger-haired male who was grabbing a duffel bag from the trunk of the sedan.

Your eyebrows scrunched together, wondering why he would lead a ring of criminals to rob places when he already seemed to have the money. Feeling your gaze on him, the man looked over, catching your eye with a smirk.

"Just get out of the fucking vehicle, woman," Yeosang grunted as he pushed Bohwa towards the door, nearly making her fall out of the open door.

"Y/n!" She exclaimed upon seeing you standing there and quickly got out of the car, grabbing your arm, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," You reassured her with a small, weary smile, and she squeezed your arm. Then her gaze was on the house, her jaw falling slack in astonishment.

"If you're done gawking, ladies, let's go." Wooyoung tugged on your arm when Hongjoong motioned him forward, and you stumbled slightly trying to walk. Bohwa was right behind you, her arm caught by Seonghwa's once more.

Stepping onto the porch, the two men stopped right in front of Hongjoong, who had just opened the door. He turned and looked at both you and Bohwa, an unreadable expression on his face, but you knew that he wasn't too pleased.

"Take her to the cellar," Hongjoong looked over at Seonghwa, pointing a lazy finger at Bohwa, and your stomach turned, a lump forming in your throat. Was he going to separate you again? Then just as you finished your thought, he spoke again, "and lock her up in the storage closet upstairs."

Your heart started to ring in your ears, and your palms felt sweaty. Bohwa tried to protest, but Seonghwa was far too strong, and he pulled her into the house. Tears brimmed in your eyes once more as you called after the dual-haired girl, thrashing in Wooyoung's grip. Seeing your panicked face, Hongjoong smirked sinisterly, reaching out and grabbing your chin, forcing your eyes onto his.

"Welcome to your new home, little bird." He spoke with a grin, voice dark as he patted your cheek before motioning to Wooyoung to take you inside.

"No! Let me go! Bohwa!" You screamed, hoping that by some miracle a neighbor would hear the commotion and come searching. Tears blurred your vision as Wooyoung all but dragged you upstairs.

"You're making this harder than it has to be, y/n," Wooyoung growled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, opting to carry you up the stairs since you kept digging your heels into the ground.

"Let. Me. Go." You grunted, thrashing around in his hold, but to no avail as the long-haired male carried you up the stairs with ease.

"No can do, babydoll." His eyes flickered down to your squirming form, a gleam of amusement flashing in his fox-like eyes.

Once he was upstairs, Wooyoung carried you to the storage closet, ignoring your pleas and cries. It wasn't until he opened the door that he set you back on your feet, but his hold on your waist was still firm, keeping you from running off. Looking inside the small room, you felt your heart start racing, your breathing become erratic, and you shook your head frantically.

"N-No, I'm sorry, please." You cried, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks at the thought of being locked in a small closet, childhood memories flickering in your mind.

"If you're a good girl, you'll be able to come out," Wooyoung cooed in your ear, his fingers tightening on your waist as you tried to turn. You nearly screamed when he shoved you inside, making you fall to your knees.

"No. Wooyoung, please. I can't." You cried, pushing yourself up to sit on your knees, crawling towards him. However, he just looked down at you with a smirk, and you started to wonder if he was the same person from the elevator.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart," He told you, his tone condescending as he slammed the closet door shut in your face.

"NO!" You screamed when the tiny room became shrouded in darkness, sobs racking your body as you brought your bound hands up to bang on the sturdy wood. A flurry of pleas and cries fell from your lips as you wiggled the locked doorknob, praying that it would open.

You weren't sure how long you were screaming before your throat went raw and tears stained your cheeks once more. Blood caked your nails from you tearing them while clawing at the wooden door. However, the pain was the last thing on your mind as you slumped against the door in defeat, quiet, broken sobs leaving your parted lips.

"P-Please." You begged one last time before you started to feel your brain shut down, the terror encasing every inch. You tried to fight against the void that was trying to pull you under, but it was futile; your body was too weak, and it swallowed you whole.

The upstairs hallway finally fell quiet as a soft thud was heard from inside the small storage closet. Your worn-out body was lying motionless on the floor, and a few stray teardrops dripped from the tip of your nose onto the hardwood below you.

And even in your slumber, you were attacked with that same fear you felt when you were awake. You were trapped with no sight of ever getting out.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[kisssan]

pairing﹢jeong yunho x fem!reader genre﹢smut. ex-bf!yunho, age gap (reader is 24, yunho is 36), themes of obsessive tendencies and stalking, jealousy, emotional manipulation, slight yandere (if you squint), corruption kink, toxic relationship, dubcon undertones but it turns consensual, cunnilingus, choking, mean dom!yunho, implied size kink/difference [the big dick yunho agenda is real], hate + unprotected sex, missionary + mating press, praising + degradation, overstimulation, orgasm control, tummy bulge, creampie, pet names (doll, babydoll, dollface, angel, pretty girl, etc), minimal aftercare. synopsis﹢he was the only older guy you had ever dated, and you swore you would never do this to yourself again. two years of love, obsession, and control are gone, or at least, that’s what you thought. some people don’t let go or move on — he never did. so why does he walk back into your life like nothing ever happened... this time, as your professor? word count﹢17,9k

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these are the best eleven months of your life after ending the relationship with your now ex-boyfriend. next month you're even thinking of celebrating, because it will mark a whole year. your best friends will definitely treat it like a huge occasion, just like on that fateful day when you handed them the news on a silver platter… they had never been so happy, throwing a small party just for the three of you.

YUNHO was the only older guy you had ever dated, and you swore you would never do this to yourself again. to sum it all up, the relationship turned toxic rather quickly. you almost lost all of your friends, even your two best friends, karina and yeji, who tried their very best to shove some sense into you, but you never listened, delusional enough to believe that you could change him. oh, how naive you were, that’s why you were so easy to manipulate…

apologies came in the form of very expensive gifts, things you had always wanted, or in gentle kisses and touches that slowly wandered and eventually led to the bedroom, where you ended up naked beneath his covers. you thought it was normal, since every relationship had arguments, but that’s not what this was about. it was about toxicity, extreme jealousy, possessiveness, maybe even obsession. the man was a literal freak.

karina practically did a full analysis of him, confirming what she had said the very first time you told her about the problems that occurred between you and him: "he's a psychopath." she had been direct, telling you it wasn’t okay and that you needed to break up with him. yeji agreed with her, always wanting the best for you, adding that "older men always want to date someone younger and it's not just because of looks… please be careful."

you suffered once and learned your lesson. enjoying your vacation, cocktail in hand, while the sea breeze drifts past you, the sun hot against your skin as you lounge on the deckchair, slowly tanning. of course, sometimes you still think about the past; you can’t really stop that after spending two whole years with him. yet even though everything had been bad and suffocating, there had been a good side to him too: tall, handsome, funny and somehow rich. what more could you want?

the other thing you wanted was for your parents and close friends not to find out that you had been dating someone not two or three years older, or even a year younger, but a whole twelve years older. yes, you were twenty-one when you met him, a couple of months before your birthday, through mutual friends. one gathering led to another, and before you knew it, you were dating him, convinced you had finally found the one you were going to marry, the only man who truly knew how to be a man. alas, it turned out he was just another shark in the ocean, ready to strike at its defenseless prey.

it doesn’t matter anymore, since you’re single, genuinely happy, enjoying your summer, shining brighter than the sun itself, and everyone sees you like some kind of eternal sunshine. you finally returned to yourself, only smarter this time, no longer falling for tricks or manipulative tactics. life is good when you don’t have a man bitching in your ear about the outfit you’re about to wear or asking why you were talking to some guy for too long. the waiter, if you must specify, who was simply announcing the lunch menu.

“ah, can’t believe we have to be back at university that soon…” you said, sipping from your drink while idly chewing on the straw. karina was on your left, glued to her phone, while yeji sat on your right, carefully lining up small seashells along her thighs.

“and we’re graduating this year too… but someone decided to study at a different university, breaking our teenage dreams,” karina said as she turned off her phone, glancing at you with a playful look while you rolled your eyes.

“not my fault the one you’re in didn’t have what i wanted.” you took another sip, and yeji giggled softly. “none of us dropped out though, which is an achievement on its own.”

yes, you didn’t study at the same place as them, but that didn’t stop you from hanging out, if anything, there was even more gossip to share. and so the conversations continued, all the way until you started getting ready for dinner, and then for a few more days after that, until eventually you had to go back to seoul and wish each other “good luck for the new last year.”

you really did need some luck, because you had just found out that your favorite professor had retired. you were going to miss the woman; you had been her favorite student, but all good things eventually come to an end. everyone was already sitting in the lecture room. you had heard that the new professor was someone young, but there hadn’t been time to check who exactly he was since they were still fixing schedules and systems. the only thing you knew was that tuesday at nine in the morning was your first lecture with the new professor in question.

“i think he probably used to play basketball or football, i saw him earlier and he’s really tall,” one of the boys said, and the others quickly agreed, while you remained focused on your phone, scrolling through reel after reel, meme after meme. then you overheard the girls whispering nearby, their voices a little more excited. “did you see his hands? and him in general… he’s so fine…”

the problem with having a young professor is exactly that — he was young, and from what everyone was saying, quite attractive too. the other problem appeared the moment everyone finally sat down when the door opened. a tall figure stepped into the room, his style was effortless in a way that made it impossible not to glance twice. a soft gray cardigan hung loosely over his shoulders, the thin knit falling open enough to reveal the clean white t-shirt beneath.

the muted colors helped him blend in, making him look more like a student than a teacher. slim black pants traced the long lines of his frame, the strap of a black crossbody bag thrown diagonally across his chest, and he wore simple sneakers. his black hair fell in soft layers that framed his face, the strands straight and smooth, cut just long enough to brush the tops of his eyebrows and skim the sides of his cheekbones.

you were sitting a little further back, your phone still in your hands. the room buzzed with chatter as people continued talking among themselves until the professor cleared his throat, the sound cutting clean through the noise as he prepared to introduce himself.

“hello everyone, i’m jeong yunho and i’ll be your new photography professor this year.”

your eyes widened instantly, your head snapping up so fast it almost hurt. oh no… houston, we have a problem. you blinked several times, half expecting your vision to clear and reveal someone else entirely. maybe it was just someone with the exact same name, appearance, and voice. unfortunately for you, it wasn’t. why is your ex-boyfriend the new professor? out of all the people in the capital, it had to be him who got the position.

you sat there frozen in complete shock, your mouth slightly open until your deskmate and close university friend, jeongin, gently pressed a finger under your chin to close it as he leaned to whisper, “i guess everyone, including you, just found their new crush, huh?”

what, why, and how? was this some kind of twisted karma? because if it was, you definitely weren’t the one who deserved it. your heart started beating faster, anxiety and something close to fear crawling up. could you run away? maybe copy someone else’s notes, no… you couldn’t. suddenly you wished you were studying metaphysics with karina, because that sounded far more pleasant than this.

“i’d love to get to know all of you,” he continued, smiling as he set his bag on the desk before leaning back against it, arms loosely crossed, while his gaze moved around the room. “so i’ll share a few things about myself. and don’t worry, i won’t make you do anything today. i’ll just introduce the course and explain what i expect from you.”

surprisingly hands immediately began rising with questions. meanwhile, you were still struggling to believe what you were seeing and hearing. he hadn’t changed at all, you had to admit it. he had only gotten more attractive. always taking care of himself and being unfairly pretty, making you remember how two years ago you thought about what your future children would look like... now you want to throw up. forcing yourself to keep your composure, glancing at jeongin and making a slightly grimaced face. yeah, a crush for sure, except you wanted to crush him into pieces.

“how old are you, professor?” someone from the middle rows asked, earning a few curious murmurs from the class, making yunho chuckle, “straight to the personal questions already? alright then. i’m thirty-six.”

everyone was surprised by the answer, and all kinds of reactions rippled through.

“don’t look so shocked,” he added with a small grin. “i promise i’m not that ancient.”

“are you a full-time professor?” another student asked.

“not exactly,” yunho replied, pushing his sleeves up slightly as he spoke, revealing his forearms, “i’m a professional photographer first. i mainly work in editorial and commercial photography such as fashion shoots, campaigns, exhibitions, that sort of thing. teaching is something i enjoy doing on the side, especially with students who are serious about the craft.”

“does that mean you’re going to give us easy grades?” someone joked, making him raise an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting. “absolutely not.”

the class laughed again, a little nervous this time.

“i can be friendly,” he added, shrugging lightly, “but don’t mistake that for me being tolerant. photography is about discipline and perspective. if you’re here just to press a button and hope for the best, you’re going to struggle.”

another hand went up. “so… we won’t pass easily?”

“correct,” nodding his head once. “i expect effort, creativity, and consistency. if you work hard, you’ll do amazing. if you don’t…” he paused briefly before smiling again, “you won’t pass this course by simply showing up and smiling at me. well, at least you’ll get some nice pictures out of the experience.”

more chuckles followed, but the message had landed. the atmosphere quickly became relaxed and comfortable as he answered questions with small jokes. the students were already warming up to him, clearly charmed by how easygoing he was. as you listened to him speak, watched the way he carried himself so seriously and correctly in front of everyone, you couldn’t help but wonder where exactly all that cheerful composure had been when he was with you?

“attendance is mandatory.” and then his gaze settled directly on yours, a faint smirk pulling at his lips as he stared straight into your soul, the one he had almost taken from you a year ago. “of course, if you have to be absent, it’s not a problem, as long as it doesn’t happen often. i know some of you will be at the mall with friends. also i don’t grade by email; everything you do will be shown and discussed in class.”

the entire time he spoke, his eyes kept drifting back to you. when he paced slowly across the front of the room, even when he turned to answer someone else’s question, somehow his attention always circled back. for some reason, you held his gaze instead of looking away, and the longer you stared at him, the more that fear slowly faded until all that remained was pure hatred.

jeongin leaned slightly closer to you, lowering his voice into a teasing whisper. “well there goes our plan of skipping class to eat kfc… or getting more sleep,” he murmured, nudging your arm lightly.

thank god your best friends studied at different universities, otherwise they would have dragged you straight to the administration office and forced you to drop out for real. and honestly… you were starting to think about it yourself. the worst part was that you couldn’t switch the class for anything else. great, truly amazing. you were trapped for an entire semester.

“that’s everything for today,” yunho said after a while, clapping his hands together once as he was done answering questions and talking about cameras, “i won’t keep you any longer. enjoy the rest of your morning.”

chairs scraped across the floor as everyone began packing their things, the room filling with chatter again. you grabbed your purse quickly, already standing up before most people had even processed that the lecture was over. as you walked out with jeongin, you noticed a small crowd forming around the professor’s desk. a couple of boys and girls had already gathered there, asking questions, laughing at something he said, clearly eager to stay a little longer.

you didn’t even glance his way. no goodbye, or a polite “have a nice day”, because he didn’t deserve to have one. you just kept walking toward the door, hoping that you would manage to graduate before the sudden temptation to drop out started looking a little too appealing.

“your analysis lacks depth,” yunho says, placing your paper on his desk, making you scoff, since this is the third time now that he’s returned it for edits. lacks depth, he says… well, you did as well, asshole. if you had to edit one more thing, it honestly wouldn’t be that bad to buy a gun, and no, it definitely wouldn’t be pointed at your head.

every single tuesday he calls on you far too often in class. your assignments always come back covered in detailed comments, red ink everywhere like a declared war on your academics. you swear he’s grading you harder than everyone else, which honestly seems unfair to the people who are actually doing nothing. apparently, you’re the only one being treated like a social experiment.

“and what exactly do i need to change again, professor?” you ask, grinning through your teeth, burying every thought that would probably send you straight to jail under a perfectly fake smile. you’re this close from going insane, feeling that familiar anger rise again, the irritation that always appears when you’re forced to deal with someone you can’t stand.

for the last four weeks, your life has been hell, to say the least. during lectures he’ll ask a question, several hands go up while yours remain fiddling with a ballpoint pen, and yet he always picks you. and the first time you didn’t know the answer, what followed was a casual, “it would be nice to learn things before the test, hm?” which felt like complete humiliation, because beneath that joking tone there had been something that definitely wasn’t a joke.

once you and jeongin arrived ten minutes late, which honestly wasn’t even your fault. what were you supposed to do when your friend insisted on waiting for his coffee while there was already a long line that early in the morning? of course, a comment followed: “please be on time next time.” but when someone else walked in thirty minutes late during the same lecture, there were absolutely no remarks.

that’s exactly why you always come prepared with answers and make sure you’re always on time. you know his tricks far too well. no matter how charming his smile is, how sweetly he talks, how funny and relaxed he seems… it’s just one of his many masks. karina really was right about him being some kind of psychopath.

everyone else, unfortunately, loves the new professor. they talk about his fun classes, how nice he is, and how cool it is that he’s such a professional teaching them new techniques. some of your peers even linger after lectures just to chat with him. meanwhile, you sit there thinking that your older ex should seriously consider enrolling in acting instead of photography, because the performance he’s putting on deserves ample shiny awards proudly displayed on a goddamn mantlepiece.

the whole thing has turned into some twisted cat-and-mouse game. he teases, pushes, and provokes. you glare, don't bite back, and refuse to give him the reaction he clearly wants. despite all of that, he always finds his sneaky ways to make your life a little more miserable.

here and there, he calls you to his desk after class for absolutely no reason. “you should consider approaching a different lens for your next project,” like this couldn’t have easily been written in a single email. or he’ll start explaining camera settings you already know perfectly well, dragging the conversation out while the rest of the class disappears into the hallway.

and god forbid you see him outside the classroom. the moment you notice him walking down the hallway, you immediately pull a perfect one-eighty and walk in the opposite direction because you hate this man so fucking much, you refuse to breathe the same air as him.

what’s more upsetting is that you can’t even tell anyone. because if karina and yeji ever found out that your toxic ex-boyfriend was now your professor, they wouldn’t hesitate for a second before throwing a chair at him.

what you don’t know, however, is that he requested this university job partly because of you. actually, not partly at all, he knew exactly what he was doing. even when you were still together, he knew where you studied and what major you were in, just like you knew about his photography work. of course, teaching also gave him the chance to try something different in his career. and what better opportunity than this? his unbelievably beautiful ex-girlfriend just so happened to be one of his students, completely unplanned.

and it doesn’t stop there, oh no, everything is just starting.

jeongin begins to notice a pattern, which honestly isn’t hard to miss when during class yunho asks another question. probably ten hands rise into the air, but he still chooses you. your friend leans closer to your ear and whispers, “you must be his favorite~”

you stare at the board like you want to burn it down, alongside mister pretty devil himself, who of course, happens to wear clothes that fit his figure perfectly, fuck him honestly. “if i was his favorite, do you think i’d be studying camera obscura in this much detail?”

not to mention the way he addresses you with that smooth voice, softly calling you, “miss (name).” the moment you hear it, it’s game over. you have to respond with “yes, professor,” or “yes, sir,” like some twisted academic roleplay you never signed up for. it makes you want to vomit, bleach both your eyes and your trachea. you hate his guts so much. he has always liked being in control, and now he has it again, at least within the walls of this campus. outside of it, however, he has absolutely none.

when it comes to homework and assignments, everyone else receives short feedback, brief but explanatory enough to understand their mistakes, things like: “good composition” or, “nice lighting” and even, “if you try a black and white effect, it might work better.”

your feedback, on the other hand, is practically a full essay. it could probably qualify as a documentary script because he covers everything, even the tiniest details. he has a ridiculously keen eye for things, which apparently also makes him a professional at being a complete jerk who picks on you for absolutely no reason.

“your framing… well, it’s technically correct,” he muses, tapping the printed photo with his finger exactly where he seems most dissatisfied, “but technically correct isn’t the same as emotionally effective.”

you want to throw your camera at him and shove the lens straight down his throat, as the class sits there admiring him. “wow, professor jeong gives such thoughtful feedback.”

it also happens that he’s constantly spammed with emails from students asking if their work is passable or what more they  can do to improve their visuals, so eventually he announces loudly, “if anyone needs extra help, my office hours are wednesday and thursday afternoon.”

later that same day, only you receive an email: “your project concept has potential. come to discuss it.”

you go, of course, because you care about the grade. knocking on the door to his office, and he lets you in, acting like the two of you are complete strangers. the entire conversation stays professional, purely academic, every word measured, but the tension makes your heartbeat faster. after ten painfully long minutes, you finally stand to leave, and just as your hand reaches the door, he says, that same smile on his face, “don’t sabotage your own work out of stubbornness.”

almost slamming the door behind you, but you need to have self-control and not let him know that you are slowly losing your cool.

it goes without saying that the girls in the course absolutely adore him. some of them simp for him, always giggling and gossiping. “the way he looked at me today… he said he is single, so do you think i have a chance?” or “he’s literally the most handsome professor here, why isn’t my boyfriend like him?”

you almost choke hearing that, because you know the other version of him. the one who used to kiss apologies into your neck after fights. the one whose hands knew every point of your body andwho knew you better than you knew yourself. fingers that always seemed to know exactly where to press, where to… why are you even thinking about that?

during one of his lectures, yunho suddenly says something that makes your stomach twist.

“photography is about obsession. you need to want the subject more than anything else. you have to focus on it completely if you want to capture the perfect shot.”

you freeze, eyes widening slightly at his words, because you know exactly how obsessive he can be. yunho glances at you, that smug little smile appears again, and he continues the lecture as if nothing happened.

it’s almost nightfall when the young professor arrived home. he dropped onto the couch, leaving his bag on the floor beside it, his head falling back against the cushions as he stretched his legs over the small wooden table and stretched his arms up above his head.

he exhaled once, then again, tapping his thigh with his fingers in the quiet that filled the apartment. the silence didn’t last long before a small laugh slipped past his lips. he closed his eyes, and of course, you appeared in his mind again. you were constantly there, living somewhere between his thoughts and his heart, occupying space you had no right to anymore.

weren’t you just adorable? each and every time you walked into class, you were dressed better than everyone else, always prepared and looking at him with that sneer that no one else seemed to notice. not even your deskmate, the one he sometimes caught himself glaring at out of pure irritation and jealousy, though he knew jeongin wasn’t any real threat.

you were his muse, his fallen angel, the pliable doll he had once controlled so carefully until two other puppets, your dear best friends, stepped in and cut the marionette strings, ruining the entire show. you had been so kind-hearted and obedient, so sweet and perfectly made for him… but everything had ended so quickly.

yunho knew exactly how to push your buttons; it was too easy for him. he watched every little reaction, the glares you tried to hide behind forced politeness. he fed on it more than he probably should have. still obsessed with you and completely unable to let go, hiding it well enough behind the role of a professor. 

you were his one weakness, the sensitive gap between two ribs guarding the heart he had, the one thing that made the control he prided himself on slip through his fingers. he had never stopped loving you, at least not in his own twisted way. goddamnit, you looked like an absolute doll today. the dress, the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the gloss on your lips. were you going on a date with someone? with who? when? where? normally he would have known already. the thought made his jaw tighten slightly, tongue pushing the inside of his cheek. if it wasn’t for the university schedule taking up so much of his time lately, he would have kept better track of things. he hoped you weren’t going on a date with anyone.

reaching for his phone, unlocking it as he opened one of the many accounts he used. your instagram appeared on the screen, and even though your profile was private, that had never really stopped him. the pretty much convincing fake account had been accepted months ago and you had never questioned it. he doesn’t just have one fake account, there are several, each with a different purpose: one follows you, the second follows your friends, the third follows men who comment on your photos.

his thumb scrolled slowly through the posts, stopping at one in particular.

you standing by the ocean with goldensunlight catching your skin, wearing that stupidly beautiful dress that he bought. the same vacation he had surprised you with, and the irony was that he had been the one holding the camera when those pictures were taken, and then his scrolling stopped when he saw you had a story posted.

you sitting across from someone in a restaurant, a glass in your hand, smiling. the caption tagged someone… jaemin? the quiet apartment suddenly didn’t feel so quiet anymore. yunho stared at the screen a little longer than necessary, his fingers tightening slightly around the phone. he decided to do his research, and within minutes, he knew jaemin’s major, his other social media, his schedule and which classes he attends.

“so you were going on dates now, huh?” his hand ran slowly across his face before he leaned back against the couch again, letting out a low breath that almost sounded like a mocking laugh. he shouldn’t care, and what’s left of his sanity knew that, but something in his chest twisted like a scalding hot knife. the truth was simple, and it irritated him more than anything else.

his home still has traces of you. your favorite mug still in the kitchen, a sweater you forgot draped over a chair, the perfume bottle you left behind on the bathroom counter. he hasn’t moved them at all, so when passing them he’ll sometimes pause, observing your belongings like they’re priceless artifacts he forever wants to keep.

a drawer in his desk contains a perfectly organized stack of polaroids. shots he took of you while you were dating, containing multiple domestic situations of you laughing on the beach, asleep on his shoulder and drooling, you looking annoyed while he teased you endlessly, you wearing his hoodie… there’s a lot, some even nudes taken during private moments when you trusted him. nothing is displayed openly, but preserved with a date written on the back, sometimes a short note, things like mine or xoxo.

as a photographer, he justifies it to himself as art. in his mind those photos were the purest versions of you, deleting them would feel like destroying masterpieces. the man doesn’t see anything wrong with it. they were taken with consent back then, and the memories belong to him, so he never questions keeping them.

though, admittedly, yunho still adds to the collection with printed screenshots from your instagram stories. blurry shots of you crossing campus, a candid photo of you mid-laughter taken from far away during a university event. he keeps a hidden folder on his computer, where inside are hundreds of photos and videos, not just from when you dated, but also recent ones.

sometimes he records his lectures for teaching review, as the university demands, and in private, he’ll rewind parts where you speak. listening again, and again, and again, so he can get off with his dick in hand, trying to chase his high from being turned on by watching you argue with him in class. she still looks at me the same way… anger is better than indifference. your hatred is still attention, and attention for men like him is oxygen.

he studies those images and compares them to how you look in class now. noticing the differences in the way you dress, how you glare at him and refuse to look at him too long… she pretends she doesn’t belong to me anymore.

also your old professor who retired? yunho knew her; she was a well-known photographer in seoul, a colleague of his whose exhibitions he had attended more than once over the years. during a gallery event, the two of them talked for a while, as she casually mentioned that she would be retiring soon and that the university needed someone to take her place. then she also mentioned that one of her best students would be graduating soon. the way she spoke about that student caught yunho’s attention immediately. the woman even pulled out her phone, scrolling through photos from one of the class exhibitions before zooming in on a familiar face — yours.

the elder woman happily explained how talented you were, the potential you had and how you were easily one of her favorites.

that was when he applied to the university, under her recommendation.

yunho finally stood from the couch and walked toward his bedroom. he opened the drawer of his bedside table, reaching inside until his fingers brushed against a familiar photograph: a polaroid from two years ago.

you were laughing in it, leaning slightly toward a cake with him beside you on your 22nd birthday. the faint lipstick mark you had playfully pressed onto the corner of the photo was still there, and he ran his thumb slowly over it. he just stared at it, placing the polaroid carefully on the nightstand beside his phone and the nightlamp. when he finally lay down under the covers, the photograph remained within reach, the faint outline of your smile visible in the dim light.

he closed his eyes, hoping, as he drifted toward sleep, that maybe tonight you would appear in his dreams.

fridays are always a godsend, especially after sitting through a lecture with the devil the day before. anything feels better after that, especially when you’re out for lunch with jaemin. sunlight spilling through the windows, soft chatter around you, and for the first time in a while you feel at ease. he insisted on paying, of course, saying something about how you “deserve to be spoiled properly,” and honestly… you didn’t argue.

he knows what you like. not in a suffocating way that feels like he’s memorized you without permission. but in a very gentle and attentive way.

“are you free tomorrow?” he asks, stealing a bite of your cake like it’s his.

“i wish,” you sigh. “i have to attend a birthday party with my parents.”

“mm,” he hums, pretending to think, though the smile on his lips gives him away. “guess i’ll have to reschedule my very important plan of kidnapping you for the evening.”

you chuckle softly, taking another bite of the sweet treat. “you’re not funny.”

“i’m hilarious,” he corrects you, lifting his index finger. “you’re just in denial.”

rolling your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile that appears on your face. the thing you really liked about jaemin was how sweet-talking and funny he was, knowing what to say at any given moment. he has this mischievous side, but he was also very loving and attractive. 

“i was going to ask you to come over,” he adds more quietly, almost shy beneath the teasing. “but… another time.”

that makes you pause, because he doesn’t push or corner you. more so, never demands you to be with him and cancel any plans you have already made with someone else. it’s like an option, not an expectation. there’s no hidden trap set ahead of time for you to fall into.

“maybe next weekend?” you echo, that playful tone came as you asked him, looking at him for a moment, and then down at the already finished cake. and that’s enough for him. his bright and boyish grin returns instantly, like he didn’t just make your heart skip.

“see? progress. next thing you know, you’ll admit you like me.”

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you warn, pointing your fork at him.

“too late, i already did.”

“jaemin–”

“what?” he leans in slightly, eyes sparkling with that same mischievousness. “you gonna hit me?”

you narrow your eyes. “if you keep talking, maybe.”

he gasps dramatically, pretending to be scared for his life, “not the man-hater queen threatening violence again.”

“i am not a man-hater!”

“you are when it comes to me.”

“you’re annoying.”

“and who is paying the bill?”

that shuts you up completely. instead of teasing you more, he just smiles, playfully winking at you, letting you have that moment.

after lunch, he insists on walking you to the mall so you can meet up with karina and yeji. it’s not far, twenty minutes at most, but he acts like it’s a whole event, a met gala of sorts, and you should be escorted like the princess you are. you walk side by side, hands brushing at first, then naturally finding each other, fingers lacing together. the weather is warm for the autumn season. leaves crunch when people pass by, cars hum in the distance, and for a while, you forget about yunho and about everything.

jaemin talks about random things like how he and jeno tried to summon ghosts as kids, jokes about what he saw online, and somehow, you’re laughing again without having to worry or trying to come up with excuses or reasons of how you can be so happy when something else gives you joy? he looks at you with adoration in his eyes and that’s what makes you feel safe.

when you reach the mall, he slows down, not letting go of your hand immediately. he lingers for a second, like he wants to say something else, then just smiles.

“have fun, man-hater queen.”

“thank you, cake thief.”

he laughs, finally letting go but not before leaving a quick, soft kiss on your cheek. “text me when you get home,” he says, and you nod, a little stunned by this bold yet sweet gesture. he walks off with a smile, and your best friends are already waiting for you inside at the usual meeting spot. 

the moment karina spots you, she’s already sprinting, grabbing yeji by the wrist and dragging her along like she’s on a mission. it’s been weeks since you last saw each other, university has been kicking all of your asses, and you didn’t realize how much you needed this until now.

“(name), babe, how are you? you don’t know how much we missed you,” karina squeals, letting go of yeji just to throw her arms around you in a near-death hug. you laugh, breath knocked out of you for a second before hugging her back. 

“i missed you, too,” you manage, and then yeji is right there, pulling you into her own hug, softer but just as tight. “and you don’t know what i have to tell you.”

“jaemin?” they ask in unison, already cocking their brows up.

“how did you know?”

yeji nodded her head towards the glass storefront behind you. “we can literally see you from outside.”

“he walked you here, didn’t he?” karina snorts and you don’t even deny it. that’s enough to send both of them into giggles as they hook their arms through yours, dragging you further into the mall.

the next hour follows it’s rhythm. gossip, teasing, overlapping conversations, with you telling them about jaemin and the date earlier, how attentive he is without being overbearing. sometimes you catch yourself thinking you don’t deserve someone like that. someone so patient and sweet, but karina shuts that down immediately, while yeji nods along, reminding you that the bare minimum just feels extraordinary after what you’ve been through.

what you don’t tell them… is everything else. you don’t mention yunho, not a single word leaves your mouth. it sits somewhere in the back of your mind, tucked away like it doesn’t even exist. they deserve to know, you know they do, but you don’t even know where to start, or how they’d react. and… you’re not ready for that, to lose them, so you stay quiet. maybe sometimes silence is the solution.

you move from store to store, bags slowly piling up in your hands. makeup is a priority, you’re running low, and soon enough, you’re standing in front of rows of lipsticks, testing shades against your skin. just for a second in your peripheral vision, you catch a tall figure, standing a few meters away. you turn your head, and nothing. you blink, frowning slightly. that’s… weird. you could’ve sworn someone was there.

“(name), come here, we found the new face masks,” yeji pops up out of nowhere, grabbing your arm and pulling you along before you can think about it too much. “they’re not even that expensive like everyone says.”

letting yourself be dragged away as the rest of the day passes in a blur of chatter and shopping bags. trying on clothes and spending money like you were the granddaughter of a very wealthy ceo. maybe in a past life you were rich, because right now, money seems to disappear the second it touches your hands. 

by the time you finally sit down for coffee, you take a slow sip of your ice-cold drink, letting the sweetness settle on your tongue as you listen to karina and yeji talk. your social battery was starting to fade, and you were also running out of things to gossip about, content on just listening instead of talking.

for a moment, everything is fine as it should be, until you get that feeling again, like someone’s watching. you glance up, eyes scanning the space around you, but everything looks normal. people talking, walking, laughing, nothing out of place…. you shift slightly in your seat, fingers tightening around your cup. probably your brain is messing up with you after the tiring day you had.

the day started on like that — him following, and you being completely unaware.

he saw you earlier and was there during the whole date. he doesn’t hate jaemin even if jealousy spikes, but he quickly calms himself down. the younger man is just a temporary placeholder, a distraction you picked up because you didn’t know what else to do with the space yunho left behind. his tongue presses briefly against the inside of his cheek, a habit surfacing whenever irritation starts to settle in. he already knows what to order; he’s been here before… with you. at this restaurant, same table across the room, known for its delicate pasta and overly sweet desserts you always claimed you wouldn’t finish.

it’s wrong, not because you’re laughing and enjoying yourself, but because it’s not with him. 

he watches the way jaemin leans in when he talks, how quickly he smiles, casually reaching for your plate, how comfortable he acts like he’s already earned a place he doesn’t deserve. jaemin doesn’t notice the smaller things like the shift in your posture, the way your fingers tighten around your fork when you’re thinking too much, the way your eyes drift when your mind starts wandering. he sees what’s in front of him, nothing more.

yunho sees everything.

he doesn’t need to chase you. he never will. you come back on your own. anger, frustration, curiosity, it doesn’t matter what drives you, it always leads back to him. because no one else will ever know how to handle you the way he does. he doesn’t want a version of you that’s easy. he wants the one who pushes and bites back to keep the spark alive.

you think you hate him, he can see it in your eyes. hatred means you still care; you react because you are affected. indifference would be a problem. but you’re not indifferent, just confused, pretending not to see what’s already there. he missed you. not just your voice, your presence, or your body. he missed this, the way you draw him in without even trying, like a moth to a flame.

he could have walked up to you right now. say your name to strike up a conversation as your professor. what a coincidence, right? you and he in the same place, at the same time, ordering the same food. your expression would drastically change; he knows exactly what it would look like. he’s imagined it enough times, but he doesn’t move.

he doesn’t rush things anymore, learning that the hard way. you need to feel like you have space and the freedom to choose. so he waits, and that’s fine, yunho understands. after all, you’re already his… you just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.

it was getting late, and when you finally said goodbye to your friends, he’s already on the move. you don’t seem to notice how he chooses the same subway train, standing where the reflection in the window does the work for him, watching you through the blur of the passing lights and shadows.

you’re on your phone for a while, and by the movement of your fingers, you are scrolling through instagram or tiktok. then you are staring ahead, you always get like this when your energy runs out. he knows the exact moment your thoughts start drifting and when exhaustion takes over.

someone dares to look at you for too long. yunho burns holes with bloodshot eyes as the stranger looks away. the train slows at your stop, and you step out. he follows by matching your speed, always out of sight. footsteps always a few seconds behind, stops when you stop. he’s walked this path more times than you’d ever guess. yunho’s gaze moves over everything on the street: the corners, people walking and the cars passing by, the distance between you and anything that could get too close.

you reach your building and pause for a second, opening your purse for your keys. he’s already stopped, waiting for you to step inside. the door closes behind you, as he stays where he is. his eyes lift, scanning the building, counting without thinking how long it would take to reach your floor… it should be one minute and twenty-three seconds.

he waits a little longer, enough to see the second light flicker in your bedroom. it’s the same every night with him walking you back home. what if you hadn’t come back alone? what if some creep had followed you? that wouldn’t have ended well, not for them.

his shoulders finally relax as he turns away. to anyone else, that would be the end of it. just a random man on the street… even if his home is in the opposite direction, thirty-five minutes away. hands sliding into his pockets, the quiet jingle of metal breaks the silence with each step. a small cluster of keys, shifting against each other, and one tucked among them does not belong to him. his thumb brushes over it absentmindedly; it has always been there.

yunho still has a key to your place. sometimes he visits when you’re not there, and he always knows when that is. why does he do it? even the divine beings don’t seem interested in answering that, and they don’t want to interfere either. what is he doing in your apartment? nothing, he goes there when he wants to rest. he doesn’t move things around or leave signs. he just sits on your couch and enjoys the atmosphere you created.

your bedroom door stays open, so he doesn’t need to enter to know if anything has changed. he’s like a ghost, maybe a poltergeist, one that doesn't haunt by moving objects but stealing them instead. 

he opens drawers sometimes. the most familiar one is always the same — the drawer with your underwear. never takes anything new or expensive, always the ones at the bottom. old pairs, the pieces you don’t think about anymore, and you wouldn’t even notice are missing.

it’s proximity, a way for him to be close to you, or for you to be close to him. 

in the living room, there’s a plush toy you never threw away. he gave it to you when you celebrated your six-month anniversary. it still sits in its place, untouched and harmless-looking. except it isn’t. inside it, carefully hidden where no one would think to look, is a small camera. he watches from time to time, when he needs to. nothing invasive, just enough for him to see you when you’re home. someone has to make sure you get home safe, even if you don’t know it, and if it has to be him, then so be it. 

your father had a lot of friends, and it just so happened that your family was invited to mr. kim’s 50th birthday, an anniversary celebrated in a rather grand and luxurious way. honestly, it felt more like a wedding than a birthday… but either way, it was still an occasion for drinking. people of notoriety greeted each other left and right, laughter and chatter filling the air, until the man of the hour finally made his entrance, the one who had every right to celebrate until the very last drop and bite were gone.

“if this isn’t my one and only goddaughter?” it should probably be mentioned that this kind and ridiculously rich man was your godfather. no blood relation, but he had always been like an uncle to you. the affluent one  who spoiled you endlessly as a child, giving you everything you wanted, because clearly your parents failed to treat you like the princess you deserved to be.

“happy birthday, uncle minseok!” you said, stepping forward to hug him, genuinely happy to see him. the gifts were still left by the entrance, but you always had your own little privileges. “this is for you, i hope you like it… even if you are getting old.”

inside the small wrapped bag was a simple package of marshmallows, as your mother immediately noticed, lightly tapping your shoulder. “(name), this is inappropriate.”

“calm down,” minseok laughed warmly, taking the bag from your hands without a second thought. “she knows exactly what to give someone.” he glanced at you with a grin, because this candy has become very significant during the years, something small but from the heart. “thank you, my dear. you’ll get the second piece of cake.”

the evening continued with drinks being passed around, conversations flowing about business, and whatever gossip caught your ear. at some point, your godfather rested a hand on your shoulder, “come, there’s someone i want you to meet,” he said casually, guiding you through the crowd. “a very dear friend of mine, and an excellent photographer. you might learn a thing or two.”

you didn’t think much of it at first, nodding as you followed along, heels clicking softly against the polished floor, your drink still in hand. this would be just another introduction for you to smile at a stranger. this would hopefully be someone you could form a connection with to help you in the future when you do decide to pursue a career, but just like that, everything in your body turned upside down. your entire world tilted and your pulse quickened, because of course it had to be him.

dressed like absolute sin in a suit that made it painfully obvious he knew exactly what he was doing. professional and put together… but unlike on campus, where he toned it down by being casual and relatable to young people your age, here amongst people closer to his age and high calibre, he wasn’t holding back. the clothes fit him perfectly, outlining his frame in a way that makes you force yourself not to react — masking your expression into something neutral that doesn't scream what the hell are you doing here.

“yunho,” minseok called out, catching his attention. “ah, perfect timing, indeed. i want you to meet someone.”

yunho turned, and for a split second, his eyes met yours. there it was, that familiar recognition, gone just as quickly as it appeared. his own expression of shock smoothed out instantly, slipping into that same composed mask you had grown to despise.

“this is my goddaughter, (name),” minseok continued proudly, squeezing your shoulders by the exposed skin your dress created. “she’s studying photography as well.”

you swallowed and played along, like you were meeting him for the very first time. as if you didn’t know the way his hands felt, or how his voice sounded when it wasn’t calm and controlled, the way he used to look at you when no one else was around… as if you hadn’t let him take your virginity. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, offering your hand with a polite smile that stung like acid to hold. his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he took it. warm and bigger than yours, soft too, just like it always has been, perfectly made to fit.

“the pleasure is all mine, miss (name),” yunho replied, smiling at you, and god, you hate how natural he makes it sound, like you’re nothing more than a stranger he’s just been introduced to. but of course, he doesn’t stop there. the pad of his thumb brushes lightly against your knuckles before he lets go.

it wasn’t awkward, more like… unsettling in a way that made your skin itch. it wasn’t just that you saw him every week at the university, no, now he was here too, at an event where you were supposed to have fun, not stand there thinking of at least five different ways to get away with his murder. your godfather, completely unaware of the tension, patted your shoulder before turning to yunho. “i’ll leave her in your care, and (name), you might want to take some photos now that it’s still not too crowded. have fun, kiddos.”

and just like that, minseok walked away, leaving you alone with the man you hated the most.

your blood started boiling like molten lava almost instantly. the fake smile dropped the second his back disappeared into the crowd, your nails digging into your palms as you inhaled slowly through your nose and you stared at yunho with pure and undisguised hatred.

"you know it's not very polite to stare." he was fixing something on the camera, or looking at photos, you didn't know, but you knew one thing, and that was that you hated him. “so, how is your project going? did you fix what i told you to?” 

you stiffen for a split second, your smile tightening as you look at him, because of course he would say that here, of all places, since he just couldn’t resist torturing outside campus.

“i wasn’t aware this was a consultation,” you reply sweetly, but your tone carries that hostile warning of a bark that tells him you are about to bite like an angry dog.

“old habits,” he hummed softly, deleting a few blurred pictures.

“yeah?” you shot back, one eyebrow rising, “then maybe you should work on dropping a few of them.”

“that explains a lot.” the way he calmly answers makes you want to punch him.

“explains what exactly? you enjoying your little performance? you’re very convincing, i’ll give you that.”

“i don’t know what you mean,” he says lightly, though the way he looks at you says the exact opposite. liar. something about the way you’re talking back instead of ignoring him, clearly tells him one thing — you haven’t moved on completely.

“you still get worked up so easily,” murmuring almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear.

“you still talk too much,” you snapped, and he took a step closer, enough to close some of the distance, his presence more noticeable and intimidating, and you sometimes forget how tall he actually is.

a small smile tugged at his lips because, truth be told, he was enjoying this far too much. his eyes were scanning your face, studying every reaction of the grimace you tried so hard to hide. you scoffed, crossing your arms, tapping your freshly done nails against your skin, irritation written all over, and for a moment neither of you spoke. the noise of the party faded into the background as the tension stretched like silk almost pulled to the point of tearing between you.

then yunho exhaled softly, removing the camera strap from his head, he closed the lens cap and put it back in the small bag, leaving it on the desk he evidently used for work here.

“what about we take a walk?” yunho suddenly suggests, tone light, sounding harmless and innocent. “talk a few things out. it seems like you have a lot to say.”

you should have said no. you should’ve walked straight back to your parents while ignoring him like you’ve been fighting tooth and nail to do, but somehow… you didn’t. maybe it was the tone of his voice, coaxing you with the way he said it like a suggestion, not a command, even though it somehow felt like one. or maybe it was just him, knowing exactly what to say, with just the right intonation for invitation.

“fine,” you muttered, big mistake.

he guided you through the venue, away from the main crowd and toward a quieter part of the hotel where the noise began to dull and the lights softened because fewer people meant fewer distractions. now it’s just you and him, the way he’s been craving and aching for.

then he stopped.

reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. you frowned slightly as he pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips before lighting it and exhaling slowly, white smoke curling between the two of you before dissipating into the air. 

“you’re smoking again?” 

“you’re staring again.”

“i’m judging,” you correct. “i thought you quit.”

“i did,” he agrees, “for you.”

then he takes another drag, eyes never leaving yours, but you know you were the main reason, if not the only one, for him to quit. you hated the smell and the taste that transferred once you shared a kiss. or two. or dozen… neither of you ever bothered to count.

“stress does things, work, life… you find ways to relieve the tension,” he continues after a moment, carefully choosing every word to get a reaction out of you. he shares just enough, mentioning that the workload and the pressure made him go back to this bad habit, skimming over the real reason without ever actually saying it — the break up. of course, he wouldn’t admit that to you. he never gives you the full truth, only carefully selected pieces. 

and as he speaks, you find yourself checking him out. you feel steel heavy shame that you are, but you can’t help it. he looks… good. no, that’s an understatement. dressed like he stepped out of some magazine, a black coat draped over his broad shoulders, a clean white button-up tucked neatly under a fitted black vest, finished off with a loosely worn black satin tie. as much as you want to deny it, to lie to yourself, roll your eyes… you can’t. when it comes to jeong yunho, all bets are off, because he’s so fucking hot.

yunho stubs out the cigarette, pressing it into the ashtray beside him. you’re both sitting on the edge of a small staircase, tucked away from most of the guests, the noise of the party distant like background static.

then, without much thought, he shrugs off his coat and throws it over his shoulder. the movement is simple, but it draws your attention to his rolled sleeves, exposing his slim but defined forearms, his veins faintly visible under the skin. his cords of muscle hold subtle tension that make it really goddamn difficult not to look. it gives him this quiet intensity, composed on the surface but never fully restrained underneath. a wildfire raging beneath a perfectly composed surface.

you really try to look away, only to realize something else, that you didn’t bring a jacket. you’re wearing a short black dress, feminine shoulders bare, the evening air cooler than you expected. it hadn’t mattered before since you won’t stay outside the venue all night, and yet before you can even think about it properly, warmth settles around you. 

snapping out of your thoughts, your gaze shifts downward to see his coat now draped around your shoulders. when you look up, yunho is already adjusting his sleeves again, completely unfazed, like the gesture means nothing at all. 

“so,” he says casually, sitting down beside you on the staircase, spreading his legs slightly as he leans back on one hand, the other idly flipping his metal lighter open and closed, “graduating soon, right? any plans career-wise?”

it catches you off guard. you almost scoff, because wasn’t he the one who suggested this, the one who said you had a lot to say. the truth is, you don’t, at least not to him. now he’s the one guiding the conversation somewhere… normal. like so normal that you’re not sitting next to your ex, who is actively messing with your head.

“i’m planning to try abroad.”

“where?”

“i’m not going to tell you,” you glance at him, narrowing your eyes slightly. “don’t want you suddenly becoming my coworker.”

that earns a chuckle from him. “you really think i’d follow you that far?”

you don’t answer, because you’re not entirely sure he wouldn’t. he makes it very clear that he is not talking about your career. the silence settles again, but it doesn’t feel empty. it feels intentional, as if he’s waiting for the exact right moment to put the puzzle piece into place.

you shift slightly on the step, exhaling through your nose, trying to ignore how aware you are of him sitting so close beside you. the party noise is distant now, blurred into nothing. now it’s just the two of you, tucked away in a space that suddenly feels too small… then he speaks again.

“are you seeing someone right now?”

your eyes flick to him immediately, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a proper answer. “none of your business.”

no reaction at first, just the soft click of his lighter opening again. the small flame appears, disappears, and flickers back to life as he plays with it absentmindedly. it’s almost hypnotic, the rhythm of it: small flame, bigger flame, gone again. he’s buying time, or making you sit in discomfort a little longer than necessary. you stare at it longer than you should, trying to steady yourself. it’s stupid, but it gives your eyes somewhere else to go and your mind something else to focus on.

he exhales quietly, then the lighter closes with a soft snap, and he looks at you.

“jaemin, right?” he says like he’s commenting on the weather. “he seems like a nice guy, but doesn’t seem like your type.”

everything in you stops, freezes like you’ve just touched a block of ice. your entire body goes still for half a second too long andyour expression betrays you before you can even think to control it. it’s shock at first, then disbelief, because you never told him a name, or anything of the sort. never even showed signs of you being involved with someone else.

your mind starts racing immediately — how does he know that? how long has he known? what else does he know?

only a few people know you’ve been seeing jaemin, and yes, you do post stories with him just like you do with the other people you trust, people who wouldn’t… your fingers tighten unconsciously around the fabric of his coat still resting on your shoulders.

“how do you know that?” your voice comes out lower than you intended. yunho tilts his head slightly, observing a reaction he already predicted, since just confirmed something he was quietly testing. a faint smirk pulls at his lips, he shrugs, leaning back on one hand as his gaze stays fixed on you.

“you’re the campus's new hotshot couple,” lies, obvious lies. you know it, he knows it, but the confidence in his voice makes it sound real. rumors, gossip, students talking, maybe someone exaggerating something they saw, but nothing that should have him perfectly informed with a name.

you don’t even realize your grip has tightened until the fabric of his coat shifts slightly under your fingers.

“relax, i’m not interfering.” but his tone says otherwise, “you can date whoever you want.”

you can't because you are mine.

yunho doesn’t move away while talking; he closes the distance slowly instead, testing exactly how far you’ll let him go before you stop him. knee brushing yours, nudging you teasingly, he doesn’t break eye contact, and doesn’t give you space to believe or question anything. because the way he says it doesn’t sound like permission, it sounds like ownership he’s pretending not to enforce.

“you lost the right to care about who i see a long time ago.” 

oh? 

amused by how you’re trying so hard to stand your ground, trembling just beneath the surface. it’s beautiful like that, so unfiltered and honest. aren’t you the prettiest little angel when you’re angry? when you’re fighting him, resisting him, convincing yourself you’ve moved on. it’s almost impressive, and adorable. your will is always too big for your own good, too loud to stay buried, always insisting things should go your way, even when reality bends differently once he is in the picture.

he’s memorizing it all over again with the way your breath changes when he gets too close, the way you refuse to look away even when it would be easier. your eyes are the most dangerous part of you, he decides. they’re full of everything at once — malice, frustration, sadness you pretend isn’t there, excitement you refuse to acknowledge. a fire that burns brighter than the weak flicker of the lighter between his fingers earlier. a fire that could bring him to his knees if he let it.

but he won’t, he knows how to protect himself.

he knows you better than anyone else ever has. better than those two annoying best friends of yours, than jeongin, better than jaemin, even your parents. better than the version of yourself you try to present to the world. 

yunho doesn’t need to chase because he knows your anger will bring you to him. he doesn’t need to beg, either. not when pulling the right strings of your nervous system is far more satisfying, watching you unravel and logic slipping away piece by piece until all that’s left is emotion, exactly how he wants you. he doesn’t need you rational, he needs you emotional. to destabilize you until you’re reacting instead of analyzing, feeling instead of understanding, until you’re his again in everything but name.

your thoughts slow, your focus breaks, you start reacting instead of thinking… just like he planned.

it’s sudden when it happens, you grab his collar, and before he can even fully process it, you pull him in and kiss him. not what people would call romantic, it’s out of pure spite and the need to shut him up. it’s messy, all teeth and frustration and months of things left unsaid. it’s the words i hate you pressed into his mouth like a punishment. 

yunho doesn’t take control immediately. he lets you bite his lip and put all that frustration finally into something tangible, lets you pretend this is just about physically shutting him up. yunho lets you have your moment of control, an illusion of victory, because he can feel you’re not over him… should the fact that he isn’t over you either be good or bad news?

only then does he finally respond, when your breath catches in that familiar way, something in him snaps as he kisses you back. the taste is noticeably bitter, ashy, and slightly stale. a trace of smoke still clings to him, dry against your tongue with that faint chemical edge, following the chemical romance between you that has no clear answer or reaction to this day, only that it is intense.

his lips part slightly against yours, the movement slow, testing. he deepens the kiss, blurring the line between hesitation and intent, one hand sliding up to your neck, fingers resting there, guiding rather than forcing. he pulls you closer, and the way your breath stutters in the gorgeous column of your throat, the way your body reacts to his body without thinking, tells him everything he needs to know.

then, just as suddenly, he stops. not pulling away completely, neither of you really wants to break it, but he’s the one who finally pulls back first. you’re left staring at each other, chests inviting air in and out in hurried paces to catch your breaths.

“you look at me like you hate me…” and doesn’t seem like you want to stop, though. “but you always looked at me like that.”

there’s something in his expression, satisfaction, like your reaction alone is enough. your breathing is uneven, lips slightly parted, and you hate how aware you are of him again: how close he is and how familiar it feels. your lipstick is slightly smudged, some of it transferred onto him, and the sight alone makes something twist in your stomach.

because you want more, but you don’t want to want him.

this is wrong on so many levels, kissing your ex out of nowhere, yet your body remembers him far too well, as it responds far too much. it’s frustrating, confusing, and addicting in a way you wish it wasn’t. what are you even supposed to do now?

“this isn’t a good place…” he says after a moment, glancing briefly toward the direction of the party before looking back at you. “…unless you want an audience.”

and suddenly it feels like the decision is yours, except it isn’t. because the way he looks at you says he already knows what you’ll choose.

by the time you are fully recovered his hand is already around yours, fingers lacing, as his grip doesn’t loosen, not once, he already knows you won’t pull away. he starts walking and you’re just following along without questioning it.

away from the crowd, into the quieter parts of the hotel, the lobby is nearly empty, the noise fading behind you as he moves straight for the elevators. he presses the button, and as if perfectly timed, the doors slide open to an empty cabin.

you step inside, and the moment the doors close behind you, the space feels smaller and tighter. mirrors line the walls, reflecting everything from every angle. no matter where you look, it’s him first and only then, you.

yunho and mirrors are a dangerous combination, because he doesn’t just want to feel you, he wants to watch you feel him and memorise the way you submit to his touch each and every time he manages to catch you. standing behind you, his taller frame hovering close, his chest warm against your back even if he doesn’t fully press himself in. still, if you lean back even slightly, he knows he has you.

his lips brush your shoulder, not quite a kiss, more like a promise of one. he makes you aware of everything — your breathing, the expression on your pretty face, how close you really are to him. one hand slides low, brushing your thigh right where the hem of your dress ends, while the other rises to your face. his soft fingers tilt your chin upward. he doesn’t need to do much to make you go insane; his voice does most of the work, not his body.

“all that attitude, and look at you now,” murmuring right next to your ear. the hand resting on your thigh doesn’t move further, and somehow you react more to what almost happens than to what actually does. as if hypnotized, trying to hold onto some sense of control, but it’s slipping fast, because your eyes betray you again. “is that really how someone looks when they want me gone?”

he doesn’t think of himself as a freak about it. he just likes watching, prefers you vulnerable like this. his eyes never leave your reflection, taking in the way your lips part, your lashes flutter, the way you try to close your eyes against how overwhelming it feels.

“don’t close your eyes, doll.” his voice is low, slightly rougher, his fingers tightening just a little on your jaw. you forgot how much you loved being called that, and how much it didn't help your attempts at resistance. “i want you to see what i’m doing to you.”

the hand on your leg slips beneath your dress until it finds the soft fabric of your panties, and you’re already so wet. his fingers press against you through the material, enough to make your breath hitch while moving in a slow and controlled rhythm as you squirm in result. your back arches finally pressing into him, and he exhales softly against your ear, completely obsessed with the sight of you falling apart in front of him.

“y-yun–” his name halfway leaves your lips in a soft whine, breaking into something breathier when he moves just right. he loves the way you say his name like it belongs in your mouth, and believe it or not, it’s already tattooed on your skin with invisible ink.

“keep looking.” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, guiding your attention back to the mirror. your thighs tremble, and your hands clutch at his forearm. the way your body reacts instantly, the way he has literal heart eyes when you make that sound again, his dick pulsating at the sight as he leans down slightly, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “see how pretty you look like this?”

you move without thinking, pressing back against him, your legs drawing closer together as if it might help, when his name slips from your lips again, your eyes glossy, barely staying open like he told you to, he smiles faintly against your skin. 

“good girl.” but being good doesn’t mean you get everything. if anything, it means the opposite, because he’s making you want it first. you feel it before you can think about it. he could push you further, make you admit things, but he knows you won’t, not yet.

a soft ding breaks through the moment. his gaze flicks up toward the numbers, 10th floor. 

the doors are about to open, the risk of someone being there and catching you… and just like that, he stops. he withdraws, leaving you aching, breath uneven, your body still caught in the aftermath of something unfinished. the doors slide open, and thankfully, no one’s there. the hallway is empty; most guests are still downstairs celebrating, others are already asleep. not that he would care much… or maybe he would. yunho has never liked sharing or the idea of anyone else seeing what he considers his.

he reaches toward you again, and for a second you think… but no. his hand slips into the coat you’re still wearing, pulling out the key card from the inner pocket.

“come on, angel… we don’t have all night.” all night. you don’t even know what time it is. your purse is still downstairs, abandoned at the table with your parents, your phone out of reach, “need help walking?” 

he asks, and that more than anything, pulls you back to reality. because when you glance at the mirror again, you finally see yourself properly. flushed and out of breath. your dress is slightly ridden up, your lips parted, your entire body still buzzing with heat that hasn’t gone anywhere. fuck. you’re left standing there, completely worked up, and he’s the only one who can do anything about it.

you know this is wrong, but your body isn’t listening. the empty hallway was your chance to leave, yet your feet never moved. you should have walked away, right then and there… so why didn’t you? zoning out and staring into the void of nothingness, thinking how no one can even compare and you hate that it’s still him who makes you lose your sanity. with yunho, it was never just attraction and maybe that’s the problem. you hate him. you hate this. you hate that you don’t hate it enough.

telling yourself you still have a choice, only that you don’t. because somehow, without realizing it, you’re already following him to his room. the door closes behind you with a quiet click that feels louder than it should, and suddenly you don’t move.

you don’t sit. you just stand there, near the edge of the bed, fingers fidgeting with the ends of the sleeves, pulling the fabric over your hands as if it might calm you somehow. your breathing still hasn’t settled, your body is still carrying everything from moments ago.

he moves further into the room as if you being here is expected and inevitable. his hand reaches up to his collar, his eyes don’t leave you, though, not once. fingers hooking under the knot of his tie, loosening it slowly, sliding it from around his neck, the fabric slipping through his fingers before he lets it hang loosely in his hand. he stands there too, looking at your posture, and the way you haven’t dared to sit or do anything at all.

his lips twitch slightly when your fingers pause for half a second, then continue. you don’t dare to talk, you don’t trust your voice right now. he takes a step closer, then another, slowly closing the space between you until it feels suffocating again, and you’re aware of him in the same way you were in the elevator.

“take a seat,” he says softly, “you don’t have to stand there like that,” and you obey. 

you sit right at the edge of the bed, back straight, still clutching the sleeves, as yunho watches you for a moment longer. then, without breaking eye contact, he lowers himself not onto the bed, but down, kneeling in front of you.

it shouldn’t feel the way it does, as if he were praying to his goddess for a blessing of a lifetime. it should be unsettling, he chose this position for a reason; he wants to be right here, close enough to see every reaction you try to hide. his hands rest lightly against your legs at first, thumbs caressing the flesh as you tense, but don’t pull away. 

“do you know…” fingers sliding slightly higher, tracing and craving, then there’s a pause. “how hard it was not to think about you?” not crossing any line too fast, he continued, eyes fixed on your face, “to see you every week, and pretend we are just strangers?”

his razor sharp gaze softens for what you can barely count a millisecond, before it shifts back to its sinister depths, something that looks a little too close to obsession.

“should i? or are you going to pretend you don’t want this?”

beneath the dress, fingers slipping under the fabric as he hooks into your waistband and starts to pull it down. you are leaning in just slightly, giving him the access he’s already taken. that’s all the permission he needs. the delicate lace follows, sliding down until it pools at your feet, as you gently kick them fully aside with the help of your heels.

"last chance to leave, angel... say or do something if you want me to stop.”

holding himself back, and it’s taking more effort than he wants to admit. his gaze drags over you, taking in every detail like he’s been starved of it.

you look the same. no, you like you never left him at all.

his jaw tightens faintly because god, he missed you. no matter how much time passed or how many distractions he surrounded himself with, nothing and no one helped. they didn’t look right or feel right, they simply weren’t you.

you changed, of course you did. your hair, your style, the perfume, even the way you carry yourself now, like you’ve grown into something that bites back.

but he sees through it: you are just a little sheep wearing the wolf’s head.

and he is the wolf wearing a sheep’s clothing.

something restless stirring beneath his skin, the way it creeps in, settles deep, refuses to leave. he’s been stuck on a feeling, just can't stop, once ain't enough.

his thumb presses just a little firmer, grounding himself, because he might actually lose that thin thread of control he’s still pretending to have.

“i hate you.” you say but your legs part for him. his head tilts at that, tongue pressing into his cheek, amused, your defiance only entertains him more. don’t mind him then, as he eases you back, gaze heavy on you, his hands slide firmly to your thighs, guiding you then lifting your legs to settle over his shoulders. 

he looks at you like he’s about to show you what heaven feels like when its most precious and divine being finally falls from grace.

yunho loves teasing you with his words almost as much as he loves tasting you. his tongue dives in, relentless at first, exploring every twitching nerve that seems to remember him all to well, then deeper, faster and harder. he pushes in and out like he’s trying to swallow you whole, sliding in and out with perfect rhythm.

“babydoll, you’re so sweet,” he groans, licking and sucking, eyes rolling back when he finally tastes you. you're addicting. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. “did you save all this for me?”

his hands grip your thighs, holding you open, pressing you closer as he devours you like a meal he can’t get enough of. every moan, quiet or loud, drives him further to the sinful gates of temptation. he buries his face in you, lips and tongue hungry, mouth wet, making sure every inch of you is tasted.

“look at you, trembling for me…” he whispers, nibbling at your inner thigh between laps of your cunt. he’s relentless with the words, praising every tiny quiver, “that’s it, you’re such a good girl, letting me do this.”

god, your pussy’s perfect. can’t believe this is all his to play with after a whole year of craving you. the way he grins while teasing you, making you feel like you’re both the most desirable and most obedient thing in the world. 

“you like it when i talk to you like this, hm? gonna make you scream my name before i even touch you properly,” he teases, tongue pushing deeper, fingers brushing where you couldn't even reach. every compliment and filthy line makes your body shake more, your pussy grip tighter around nothing, dripping just from his mouth and words.

he mixes praise and filth, so you’re caught between feeling worshiped and utterly used. the combination makes you desperate and completely under his control. by the time he lifts his head, cheeks wet, lips shiny with your slick, because he knows exactly what he’s done to you — and he isn’t done yet.

“mmh… yunho–” your back arches, hips rising to meet him despite yourself. you’re dripping, trembling, completely lost to the sloppy sounds of his tongue. he groans, deep in his throat, enjoying the taste of you. he doesn’t rush when he devours and dominates your senses. “fuck, you are so… hahh–”

your legs are clamping around his head as your hands tug his hair, gosh it’s still so soft to the touch. your chest heaving, voice hoarse from moaning, and yunho finally lifts his head, grinning at the mess he made glistening on his lips. wiping his mouth slowly, chuckling, because he’s left you begging without even doing too much.

“mmhm,” diving back in as his fingers brushing against your clit while his tongue plunges deeper. he just keeps going — tongue flicking, fingers circling, whispering filthy praises with every movement. “that’s it, that’s my good girl… come on, let it all out for me.”

your walls clench and your pussy gushes over his tongue, spurting uncontrollably as your legs tremble and your back arches off the surface. yunho groans, licking up every drop, smiling like the maniac he is, “god, you’re insane… look at you squirting for me.”

he doesn’t stop, still moving, coaxing out every last drop, praising you with every breath he takes. his thoughts are full of you, and soon enough, you will be full of him. “mine, you are only mine… keep coming for me, angel.”

you’ve never felt so ruined and so completely at his mercy.

“i should leave you like this,” he adds, quieter, more to himself than to you. the idea actually tempts him, letting you feel exactly how easy it is for him to get you like this. “send you back downstairs all pretty, like nothing happened…” a soft exhale followed, “...but you wouldn’t make it far.”

pulling back, but his fingers keep toying with your clit, and you’re already so sensitive from that alone. he talks dirty in that manic and possessive way of his, murmuring about how he’ll keep you in the dress and the heels, since you can’t spend the night with him… no matter how much he wants you to.

he eases your legs off his shoulders, standing up with a slow stretch, but before he can even undress, he steps back in between your shaky legs, looking down at you with that same secretive, almost warm smile. maybe it’s love, maybe it’s lust, if not both. his index finger and thumb catch your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to look at him, especially when you were trying so hard not to. how cute.

“drop the act, dollface,” he growled, his fingers slide down, big palm spreading around your throat, squeezing to cut off that long-awaited breath you wanted to take, watching you closely, eyes fixed on your lips as they start to quiver with every subtle tightening of his grip. “or do i need to remind you who you belong to?”

one moment he’s choking you, the next, he’s already stripped from the waist down, preparing you to take him.

lying on your back on the bed, with him hovering above you, one long finger slides inside you, immediately feeling how tight and slick you are as he starts to move. he watches closely, eyes fixed on the way your face twists with undeniable pleasure, all while his own cock pulses hot against your leg. a second finger slips in beside the first, and you feel the stretch right away. your walls clenching around him, creaming over his knuckles as small, broken sounds leave your throat, half cough, half whine, still trying to catch the breath he stole from you.

“there it is… i was waiting for that.” and by that, he means you being ready to take him. his thumb drags over the tip of his throbbing cock, stroking himself a few slow times, and your gaze drops — was he always this big? you’re not even sure how you’re supposed to take it… how you managed before. he’s thick, lining up at your soaked entrance, pushing your walls to their limit before he’s even halfway in, your cunt already molding around his size.

missionary is always a gamble with him, because you never know which version you’re going to get: the gentle one, the mean one, the jealous one… there are options, but you’re never the one choosing. this time, he is a meanie. a creature of extreme sadism.

all you can do beneath him is squirm and cry, clinging helplessly to every inch of him he gives you, heavy as he presses in, hitting places your own fingers could never reach. he grunts softly, hips pulling back again because you’re still not full of him, not yet. he has to carve the shape of himself into your insides, and claim you properly, like he always will.

maybe you’re already close, just from the way he moves. shallow at first, his pelvis dragging sinfully against you, making your writhing body jolt upwards on the bed. he switches between soft and controlled thrusts to slow and grinding circles, anything to ease you and help your body relax, make you greedy enough to take him deeper.

“is that all you do, cry?” yunho hisses under his breath, lips brushing wet against your ear as your nails dig into his shoulders. his cock presses right against your most sensitive spot, pulling a loud moan from you, and you think it’s too deep already, when he is not even that deep. “babydoll, be a good girl for me and take every inch, yeah? no, don’t cry now… you can handle it, because you’re mine… my pretty girl.”

your eyes sting, tears slipping free, smudging your makeup a bit. it’s been so long since you had any sexual intercourse, a whole year. you didn’t even do anything more than a few careless kisses and make out sessions with jaemin, nothing that even comes close to tonight’s carnal ravaging.

you need yunho. not just inside you, you need him under your skin, running through your dna. you hate his guts, you do, but god, he fucks you so well you can feel him in your guts.

the tears fall, catching the light like silver, as if tiny diamonds slip down your cheeks as he stretches you open again.

his fingers lace with yours, pinning your hands against the mattress as he hisses filthy praises into your ear. your sensitive cunt takes every devastating thrust, each one pulling out those wet and sloppy sounds, the kind that make you want to scream again and again until your vocal cords tear apart and you lose your voice for days as a reminder of what yunho is doing to do you. what he will always do to you. the way his cock drives fully into you sends that overwhelming urge through your quivering body, threatening to make you come undone, you’re not even sure if you want to. it’s a sensation so intense, such painfully good pressure building with nowhere to go.

you’re so cockdrunk it’s insane. you always thought you were in control, always told yourself he wasn’t a good person, but the dick was too good to let go. he fits too perfectly, like he was made just for you.

“scream for me, doll,” he groans, that husky tone rolling off his tongue and straight through you, pulling a helpless whimper from your lips. his brown eyes flick over your face, taking in every desperate expression like he’s committing it to memory, because watching you fall apart is his favorite part. his pre-cum leaves a messy ring at the base of his cock, trailing down the inside of your thighs, and maybe if he weren’t so consumed by you, he’d comment on just how desperate you look.

“yu-yunho–!” his name tears from your throat as it echoes through the room. his hips snap into yours without mercy, hard enough to leave bruises. your back lifts off the bed, arching into the overwhelming rush flooding your body. you praise and beg for him, pushing him further into ecstasy as he presses you back down every time you move too much.

“you think anyone else could handle you like this?” yunho coos, his pace picking up, thrusts growing faster and faster, until your thighs start to numb. “think anyone could love you the way i do?”

“yunho, please… ahh–” you hear yourself, like you’re outside your own body and have lost control of even your own voice. all you can feel is your nails digging into his back, your body tightening around him as you suddenly break, soaking him, your release spilling over his cock. and still his eyes stay on you, he adores your face more than anything else. it’s almost as if your reactions to the pleasure only he can give you appeal more to him than the sex itself.

“you say you hate me, but i bet you were just mad at me, yeah?”

but you’re too stubborn to admit that, refusing to give him even that much satisfaction. you close your eyes, trying to reclaim some dominance over him, but he only chuckles, bringing his hips to a stop at the fading edge of his own release.

that’s what makes your eyes snap open, staring up at him. “why’d you–?”

“i asked you a question, angel,” he sneers. one hand drifts down to your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that pull a helpless whine from your throat, your head tosses back.

“p-please, yu– i can’t, i–” but your legs stay wrapped tight around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, your heels pressing cold against the heat of his body.

his other hand moves, this time settling around your throat. at first, it’s loose, enough pressure to make you notice. then it tightens as he watches everything: from the way your lips part, to how your chest struggles to rise. completely focused on how dependent you become on him for air. forcing eye contact, watching you go from stubborn to needy, leaning in close to whisper instead of raising his voice. 

“tell me if it’s too much… go on.” with every small twitch or squirm, it only makes his grip tighten more, restricting your breathing while muttering praise after praise. what a fucking sadistic psychopath. “so pretty like this…can barely breathe and still taking me so well.”

pushing your limits on purpose, to remind you exactly who’s in control. he feels the way you start to struggle, your body begins to give, and only then does his grip loosen.

air rushes back into your lungs all at once, burning on the way in. your chest stutters, breaths coming out broken and uneven instead of steady. your vision blurs, tears slipping freely now, and you don’t even realize you’re shaking until he notices it first. his hand doesn’t leave your throat. it stays there, fingers still curved around it, no longer squeezing, just resting.

“there you go, babydoll,” his voice drops, softer now, but no less heavy. “breathe.”

but he’s watching you too closely for it to feel like kindness. his thumb drags slowly over the spot he pressed into, feeling the rapid flutter of your pulse beneath his touch. your lips part, pulling in air that still doesn’t feel like enough, as another broken sound slips out of you.

it does something to him. you like this, glassy-eyed and trembling, wants him to hold onto this exact version of you for as long as he can. then, without warning, he leans in. his lips press against yours. it’s not an apology, far from it. a kiss that lingers just long enough to steal the breath you just fought to get back, a quiet reminder of how easily he can take it and when he pulls away, there’s the faintest hint of a smile, because he’d do it again.

“shh, don’t cry… you know i take care of what’s mine.” still too dizzy to think about anything but breathing and kissing, your legs are thrown over his broad shoulders, his hands pushing them closer to your head to get the angle just right. he watches himself slide between your folds, then looks down at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

you glance down to where your bodies meet, even if every instinct tells you to pull away, but there’s nowhere to go. every movement hits heavier, deeper; your body can’t tell the difference between pleasure and pressure anymore. he drags himself all the way out at a torturously slow pace, only to push back in just as cruelly.

"s-shit… don’t move,” he groans, thrusting into you, when he finally decides to snap his hips, his pelvis pressed against yours. his fingers find your sensitive clit again, rubbing it fast to get you to cum again, throwing his head back as he thrusts one last time, before shooting his load into your aching cunt. spurts of warm cum fill your insides while you wither beneath him, all hot and sweaty, not even processing the mess both of you made under the clean bedsheets.

his cock was pulsing so hard you could feel it bulging through your tummy, filling you to the brim as you milk him dry. his palm presses flat against your lower stomach, and he actually smirks when he feels and sees the faint movement beneath, occasionally shifting his hand lower or higher just to make you lose focus mid-thought.

“you fell that, doll?”

do you feel how deep my love runs for you?

yunho looks at you like he’s completely gone, someone who operates on obsession, trying to imprint himself into every part of you, leave something behind that no one else could ever do. he’s smug about it too, of course he is. he just won in life, like out of everything in the world, he got you. fuck, wishing he had his camera right now, just to capture this exact moment. you look unreal beneath him, divine even dressed in black, an angel dragged down just for him.

his voice softens, murmuring sweet nothings under his breath as he leans in, pressing slow kisses to your cheeks, your temple, the bridge of your nose. gentler now, calming you down after everything he just put you through. a quick peck lands on your lips, lingering just a little longer than it needs to.

finally, yunho pulls out, watching closely as a small trace of him drips from you. his fingers follow immediately, sinking to keep it all in. then he pulls you up, arms wrapping around you, holding you tight against his chest, lips pressing into your hair, breathing you in like he doesn’t get enough of you, even now.

the aftercare is minimal, because it has to be. he lets you rest for a few minutes, helps you steady yourself, maybe guides you to the bathroom, helps you fix your clothes and makeup, and put your panties back on, while he dresses himself again as if nothing happened. and only now, that you’re about to leave, does he decide to act sweet. 

“you good, need anything else?”

“i’ll manage, thank you very much, asshole.”

you smile through your teeth, already turning, only to wobble slightly in your heels. gee, wonder why, like you just didn't have some mindblowing sex. making your way out, you’re glowing, there’s no other word for it. a little wrecked, sure, a little unsteady, but shining brighter than the stars in the sky. 

he doesn’t close the door right away, waits until you step into the elevator, as the doors slide shut and you’re out of sight. only then does he finally close it, the click echoing a little too loud in the empty room. he leans back for a second, alone with himself, because yeah, he’s an asshole, he knows that.

but you’ll always come back to him, and he’ll always come back to you.

having big gaps between classes was something you enjoyed, but sometimes hated. just like you hate everything about him. from the smug smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth to how his fingers are inside your mouth, making you gag and be disgusted by the way he does such things like he owns you — he doesn’t.

he’s your ex, the one you’ve tried so hard to forget: the sound of his voice, the way he felt under your skin. now his lips are back on your neck, sucking, kissing, leaving marks you’ll have to cover the second you walk out of his office once he’s done fucking you on his desk. you feel his thumb press against your throat, taking his time, teasing you in ways you swore you would never let him do that again, claiming you like he never left.

trying to tell him, no but your body keeps telling him yes.

you should be disappointed in yourself, letting him pull you off track like this, letting him take control when you know better. yet, with every touch and mark sends heat racing through you, clouding your mind until you can barely remember why you hate him so much. is it because he wasn’t who you thought he was… or because you still feel something for him? hating him is easier than admitting you never stopped wanting him. 

you don’t want to care; you want to despise him for what he did and for who he is. but that’s slipping away when your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, eyes roll back when he slides inside of you, filling you completely, making you forget everything else. you want to resist, hold onto the anger, but you can’t. not when he’s deep inside, hitting all the spots that make you arch and gasp, his name falls from your lips even when you swore you’d never let it happen again. 

“y-yunho... faster!” you choke out, hands clawing at his back, desperate and needy, but of course, he doesn’t give in that easily. yunho only slows down, teasing you, lips curling into that infuriating grin against your skin. 

“angel, i told you to be quiet, didn’t i?” he murmurs, voice low and slightly mocking, “so impatient, as always. good things come when you obey… and wait.” 

you are tired of waiting and being toyed with, and if he’s going to take his sweet time, then you’ll make sure he regrets it. your nails dig into his shoulders, even through his shirt, hard enough to strain the fabric and leave marks far more lasting than the lipstick stain on that secret polaroid sitting on his nightstand. 

"stop being such a dick and fuck me already!" you hate him, you repeat it to yourself over and over, until his breath is hot against your neck and his hands are gripping your hips as if he’ll never let go.

and just like that, he snaps, relentless now, giving you exactly what you begged for.

his pace quickens, the plastic creaks underneath, each thrust pushing you closer to that edge, all you can think about is him, all you can feel is him. the hate melts away, replaced by a pleasure so overwhelming it almost hurts. you are so full, burning hot by how he uses your body as a canvas to paint you all white with no drops going to waste. purity and innocence, those words don’t exist for you anymore, as they are replaced with sin and punishment.

“that’s it, pretty. feels good, yeah?” he knows exactly how the two of you collide, like you’re at war with each other. it’s rough, as it drags your pride and self-respect straight through the dirt. the relationship is so damn dysfunctional, but yunho knows you better than anyone else. you don’t even realize how much he thrives on this, how easily you let him take control. he loves you like this: soft and bratty, vulnerable and entirely his. 

you hope, no, you pray, that the good thing he promised finally comes, because you can’t take much more of this. when it hits, it crashes through you at the same time as him, your cries muffled against his shoulder, your chest rising and falling as all that tension finally spills out. he will take care of you, he will always look out for you because you are his most adored and precious doll, his favorite thing to hold and ruin.

a few minutes later, after he’s helped clean you up with a towel from one of the cabinets he keeps just for these getaways. you zip your pants back up, still feeling the lingering warmth between your thighs. you just hope your panties are enough to keep things from showing through. shit… you should’ve worn the black jeans.

“i only came here to give you mine and jeongin’s project, not to get creampied.”

“baby, you know you don’t have to do anything,” he says, spinning lazily in his chair. one hand clicks the mouse as he scrolls through whatever just came into his email. “you’re my favorite student, you pass without lifting a finger. your friend, on the other hand… needs to learn how to use photoshop.”

“yeah, but…”

“but what?” he glances up at you from the computer, that same knowing look settling back in. “you missed me?”

ah, your eyes betray you again. you missed him, no matter how much your ego tries to argue otherwise. after what happened at the hotel two months ago… yeah, that was all it took for both of you to realize you can’t stay away from each other. and maybe you’ll regret it one day, but not now. you’ve already decided to keep it hidden from karina and yeji. as for jaemin… yeah, he’s nice. he’s always been, but that’s all he is now, nice. you made sure you stayed friends, nothing more, and nothing less.

so you leave yunho’s office, of course not before kissing him goodbye, not that it matters much when he’ll be at your place later anyway. “don’t forget we’re watching spiderman~” like you could forget, you know the entire plot by heart at this point.

you’re wearing a sweater that’s way too big for you, one you casually told your friends you found at a thrift store. sure, if that store was called yunho’s apartment. thankfully, no one suspects a thing, not even your two best friends, because if they did… it would be over, and you’re not ready to lose them, but the heart wants what it wants.

later, you meet jeongin at the campus café, sitting across from him like you didn’t just leave your professor’s office in a completely different state than you entered it.

“innie, thank you for ordering for me too.” you smile, taking a sip of your drink, looking… brighter than usual, too happy for someone with a four-hour gap between classes. 

“yeah, no problem,” he says, watching you for a second longer than usual. “also, are you… okay? i don’t know, you just seem different lately after things ended with jaemin.”

you blink, caught off guard. “huh, am i?” a small shrug follows. “i don’t know… i guess i just decided to focus on myself for a while, not on men.”

“well… whatever it is, it suits you,” he mutters, still a little unsure. “oh– by the way, what did professor jeong say about the project?”

“he said we’ve got max points secured,” you shrug lightly. “and that you’ve improved your photoshop skills.”

“really?” jeongin perks up, grinning. “well, don’t mind me if i skip next week then.”

the first part is true, the second isn’t. you can lie to everyone else, but not to yunho. it’s harmless. not everyone needs to know everything about you, not even the people closest to you. so here you are back with your toxic ex, because being stuck on a feeling means being stuck on him. if anyone found out, they’d probably kill him first… and then you.

he knows exactly what you risk every time you come back to him. this was never a temporary game, something that could end just because you decided it should. to him, it’s an inevitable cycle. he doesn’t see himself as someone you return to; in his mind, you never truly left in the first place.

he would give you everything without hesitation. tear the world apart for you, piece by piece, if that’s what it takes to keep you where he wants. but he would ruin you just as easily, because to him, being broken by his hands is still better than letting anyone else touch what he was already his.

yunho is a monster creeping in your heart. a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the kind of character no one expects to be the villain. he isn’t some bad habit; he is an addiction with no cure, letting him consume you, until there’s barely a line left between where you end and he begins. you chose to stay, considering no one plays the role better than you do. this version of yourself that looks put together, untouchable, and guarded… while slowly giving everything away to the one person who knows exactly how to take it.

you didn’t fall for a good man — you fell for the one who learned how to look like one. you keep calling it love, even when it’s nowhere close, because you can’t tell the difference anymore. and if this is what love is supposed to feel like… you don’t want to be saved from it.

© KISSSAN do not copy, repost or modify my work.

thank you phoebe ( @tinyfixon ) for doing a beta read and being an amazing editor! i love you so much and i hope mingi is going to propose to you soon <3

taglist ( open )﹢ @strhwa @lillys-bakery @les4heeseung @yeehaw-odyssey @livonianmaia @estrnrea @chanscappuccino @lateez @cyberpxnks @zerowantstobattle @raicecakes-and-buldak @finewinesixtynine @jensdior  @hwavon @hwa2tiny @woosansbb @haleria @lol-imtrash2000 @haohaoshoe @iamagnesrrr @phesodain @chuuyaobsessed @niyareloadedd @enhacolor @atetheluck @eviemae5864 @booposaurusrex @belongjoong @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @urfavleobiscuit @way2jellyous @cultofsin @hearts4itoshi @matznana @eggielix @sangibaby @dovelydrz @zayn-210 @seungminimpossible @pilmographyy @pinkyerkz @straytiny127 @ophelie-dctl @minkisdoll @sassysiren1031 @powerpuff-girls4l @minyunsan-kitten @frayaatiny @atzjoonghwa

[kissmatz]

𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑬𝒁 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔: 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯! 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐱 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭⋆𖦹⋆ˎˊ˗ @yuyueater & @miisanthropology (send an ask to be added!)

Perv!Mingi who always gets distracted by your boobs when you’re talking to him.

Perv!Mingi who loves seeing you look up at him while giving him a blowjob. It makes him cum even faster.

Perv!Mingi who loves cuddling, just so you can feel him get hard.

Perv!Mingi who likes sending late night messages about how he misses being inside of you.

Perv!Mingi who jerks off to pictures of you that he secretly took.

Perv!Mingi who loves seeing you struggle when you can’t take all of him. “Just a little more, princess.”

Perv!Mingi who loves sucking on your tits just cause he can.

[kissmatz]

𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑬𝒁 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔: 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯! 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐒𝐮𝐛!𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭⋆𖦹⋆ˎˊ˗ @yuyueater (send an ask to be added!)

Perv!yunho who begs you to sit on his face, tongue thrusting deep into your cunt while he humps the air desperately.

Perv!Yunho who asks for footjobs instead of blowjobs because he loves seeing your pretty feet wrapped around him.

Perv!Yunho who sends you voice messages, begging you to let him touch himself while you’re out.

Perv!Yunho who has a whole folder filled with videos of you degrading him.

Perv!Yunho who gets off to you making him cry while edging him.

Perv!Yunho who likes to hump your leg in the middle of the night when he’s extremely horny.

Perv!Yunho who loves hearing you call him your “Good Boy” while he kneels down to eat you out.

[yuyueater]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 — 𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; Headcanons on how I think Yeo would be as a stalker.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; Stalker!Yeosang x Fem!Reader.

☆ — 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 240. ☆ — 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Smut — DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. ☆ — 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Journaling, unknown messages, privacy invasion, yeosang knows all of y/n’s routes, nonconsensual photo taking, petnames, flowers, masturbation (m!rec), nervousness, tree carving, yeosang sits in y/n’s room, befriending y/n’s friends just to try to officially meet her.

♡ — 𝐕𝐢𝐩 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ; @kissmatz send a ask to be added!

Stalker!yeosang who keeps a journal of every single thing he learns about you.

Stalker!yeosang who likes to send you messages from a burner phone, just so you can’t track him.

Stalker!yeosang who does a deep search on your friends, learning their addresses and even their childhood pets.

Stalker!yeosang who likes to stay twenty feet behind you when you’re in public, he knows all of your routes.

Stalker!yeosang who likes to take pictures of you, just so he can hang them on his wall later that night.

Stalker!yeosang who followed you home once, out of curiosity. Now he knows the way to your home, just from the one-time thing.

— “Miss you, doll.” “I’m sorry. Who is this?” “Don’t worry about it.”

Stalker!yeosang who likes to leave flowers on your doorstep every Tuesday. No note, nothing. Just your favorite flowers wrapped up in plastic.

Stalker!yeosang who jerks off to the idea of you, imagining how you’d feel around him.

Stalker!yeosang who feels his stomach drop whenever you’re name is mentioned anywhere, he gets nervous.

Stalker!yeosang who carves your initial with his on his favorite willow tree.

Stalker!yeosang who likes to sometimes sit in your room when you’re gone at work. He never takes anything, but he does spray himself with your perfume.

Stalker!yeosang who tries to befriend your own friends just to actually have a chance to meet you officially.

[nctzenhwa]

locked doll | seonghwa x reader

tags: !!dark fic!! mommy kink, isolation, pussy inspection, bondage, glove kink?, marking, breath play, dubcon, no aftercare

the door clicks shut behind seonghwa, the sound echoing in the dim room sealing you away from the world. you've been locked in here for what feels like an eternity, your sense of time shattered.

heavy velvet curtains drown out any hint of the outside world, leaving only the glow of a lamp, painting shadows across the wall.

"mommy's home, my filthy little slut," he purrs, voice smooth and laced with hunger. he's clad in black silk, the fabric hugging his frame and accentuating every line of his body.

you're splayed out on the bed, wrists and ankles bound by leather cuffs attached to the bedposts, your body exposed and vulernable for him.

he saunters closer, long fingers trailing up your inner thigh, sending jolts to your throbbing pussy. "did my dirty girl miss mommy? or have you been fantasizing about someone else's cock filling this greedy hole?" he tilts his head, a fake pout playing on his lips as his eyes darken.

seonghwa sinks onto the bed between your spread legs, freeing your ankles so he can hook your legs over his shoulders, your slick folds glistening in the lamplight.

"mommy has to inspect his property now. make sure this wet cunt hasn't been touched by anyone but me.. because if it has, oh baby, the punishment will be exquisite," he smirks as he pulls on black latex gloves with a snap, the material gleaming on his flexed fingers.

seonghwa starts slow, parting your swollen lips with two fingers, exposing your dripping entrance, the cool air kissing your hot skin, making you whine. "fuck, look at you.. so puffy and pink, leaking like a desperate whore.. is this mess all for mommy, or did my slutty baby rub this clit raw?"

you shake your head frantically, a whimper escaping your lips, but seonghwa just laughs softly, dipping the tip of one gloved finger into your heat. he swirls it in your juices before pulling it back, inspecting the shine.

"use your words, you filthy thing. tell mommy if this cunt's been faithful," he snaps, his free hand pinning your hips down as he thrusts a finger in, curling it to graze that spongy spot inside you. "feels like a vice in here, clenching so tight around mommy's finger. been empty too long, haven't you? poor needy pussy.. begging to be stuffed."

seonghwa withdraws, ignoring your frustrated sob, grabbing a magnifying light and angling it between your thighs. it illuminates every detail: the way your arousal strings between your thighs, the pulse of your needy entrance, the way you're quivering.

"stay still for mommy," he growls, voice commanding as he spreads you wider, exposing your hole completely. he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin, making you buck into him.

"god, this cunt is filthy. dripping everywhere, swollen like you're in heat. mommy can see everything.. you've been a bad girl, haven't you? touching yourself without permission?" he accuses, plunging two fingers in you and scissoring them, the latex slick with you as he pumps them slowly. "admit it, slut. tell mommy how you fingered this greedy pussy while i was gone."

tears well in your eyes as your body trembles, seonghwa speeding his rhythm just enough to get you to the edge before slowing down again. he probes you deeply, flicking your clit until it's throbbing, watching you clench around nothing.

"please, mommy.. i've been good, i swear. only yours- fuck- please let me cum-!" you beg, voice breaking into sobs as your hips grind into his hand.

a dark smile spreads across his face, satisfaction evident in his eyes as he peels the gloves off, tossing them aside with a wet slap. "that's right, my dirty little whore. this cunt belongs to mommy, every inch," he murmurs as he undresses slowly, revealing his hard cock, leaking precum.

seonghwa climbs over you, caging you in before he rubs the head against your slick entrance, coating himself in your mess. he sinks in slowly, stretching you to your limit as he bottoms out.

"fuck, so tight.. mommy's gonna ruin this pussy," he grunts, setting a brutal pace, his hips grinding against your clit with every stroke, "take it, baby. feel mommy marking you inside out."

seonghwa pounds harder, one hand wrapping around your throat with enough pressure to make your vision blur, the other pinching your nipples until they're aching. "mine. this sloppy cunt, these cute tits, that pretty little mouth- all fucking mine," he growls as he litters your skin with bites, drawing tiny beads of blood that he licks away.

the cuffs around your wrists rattle, your nails digging into your palms as the pleasure builds inside you. "cum for mommy, you nasty slut. cum all over my cock, show me how much you need me," seonghwa groans, snaking a hand down to play with your clit.

you shatter with a scream, walls pulsing around him as you squirt messily. seonghwa fucks you through it, his own orgasm hitting right after yours, filling you until it leaks out around him.

"good girl, taking mommy's load like a perfect little cumdump," seonghwa murmurs as grinds into lazily, pushing the cum deeper.

he pulls out after calming down, a trail of mixed fluids dripping from your abused pussy. he uncuffs you with gentle hands, pulling your limp body into his chest, fingers stroking your hair softly. "shh, mommy's got you.. rest, baby.." he murmurs, arm draping possessively around your waist.

[stxrrywoo]

BURNING SEA ── s.mg

synopsis ; being the forgotten princess came with the solitude that you crave, the freedom that you love, and the joy that you'll forever cherish. however, that tranquility is ripped away from you when your father announces your marriage to the water nation's king. you were forced to comply, being whisked away to an unknown land where you were sure to be your grave, yet when a maid helps you escape, you're met with mingi, the lost dragon descendant, who not only saves you, but helps you regain your freedom.

pairing(s) ; mingi x f!reader

☆ ── wc. ; 19.8k ☆ ── genre ; fantasy, romance, minimal angst, smut, fluff, historical, dragon shifter/descent duke!mingi x princess!reader ☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, mentions of forced marriage (not with mingi), crying, blood, mentions and depictions of death/murder, death threats, petnames (princess, my love, love, sweetheart, pretty girl...), mentions of pregnancy, mingi is super protective of reader, violence, mentions of mates, a tinge of deception, arguments, mingi is kinda mean and ruthless (not towards reader), kissing, some skinship, slight wound care/injury recovery, mingi is a water dragon and can spew boiling water, passing out (injury related), mingi is just a simp lowkey, NSFW ; monster fucking, virgin!reader, sloppy makeout, fingering, begging, unprotected sex, dom!mingi x sub!reader, oral (f. receiving), big dick!mingi/monster cock, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting/marking, manhandling, some praising, clit play, some teasing, breeding/mating, dumbification, rough sex, cum eating, slight breast play, bulge kink, knotting, creampie, slight cockwarming, dacryphilia, cervix fucking/bruising, lmk if I missed anything!! ☆ ── notes ; he's hereeeeee!!! hehe this was smth that started as a joke between me and @sangis-puppy but as you can see it didn't stay a joke :33 now this was only supposed to be like 5/6k but that didn't happen... I got a little carried away with the plot. also special thanks to @xtrashxbunnyx for being my beta reader and giving me your raw reactions, mwahhh~

⏤͟͟͞͞ JOIN THE TAGLIST ── MASTERLIST NAVI ── MAIN NAVI

"You are to marry that king; this is not up for discussion." Your father's voice echoed all around the large office, his words piercing right through your heart.

"Father…" You breathe out, hands gripping the skirt of your dress so tight that it begins to color your knuckles a ghostly shade of white. Sure, you had never been the most favored out of all of your siblings, nor were you in line for the throne—never had been. Yet you never thought your father would stoop as low as to marry you off to another nation just for money, which he had plenty of.

"This is for the better of the kingdom, y/n." Your mother cut in from her spot just behind your father, her hands folded in front of her body, just like you had been taught before you could even remember.

You couldn't even think of anything to say, nor was there anything to be said. There was no way you were getting out of this. So as tears brimmed in your eyes, you tried to muster up a smile, one that felt like it was tearing into your skin. Quietly lowering yourself into a curtsy, you agreed to your father's proposition.

"They will arrive in two days' time. You are to be prepared in advance." Your father continued, his gaze scrutinizing you. Then he was looking behind you, right at his royal advisor, "Jisung, show the Princess back to her room."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Jisung's quiet voice flows through your ringing ears, and he bows his head before his gaze shifts over to you, "this way, Your Highness."

The walls of the room seemed to be closing in on you as you turned slowly on your heel, and the tears that stung the back of your eyes seemed to grow. Your heart was thumping violently against the sturdy bones of your ribs, threatening to break free. Yet you could only will yourself to follow the raven-haired male out of the office, hands still clutching your dress skirt, the fabric nearly tearing under your fingernails.

Not a word was spoken as you both walked down the hall, your heels clicking on the marble floors. A few maids were walking down the hall, bowing to you in greeting before going on about their day. You tried to smile at them, trying to be the nice princess that they all knew you as, but as you thought about how your life was about to take a turn for the possibly worst, you just couldn't.

"We've arrived, Your Highness," Jisung announced, motioning towards your bedroom as he held the heavy door open for you.

You thanked him quietly, walking into the luxurious bedroom, and as soon as you walked past the threshold, your knees became weak.

"Your maids have already packed everything, you'll be fetched when their caravan arrives." You look over your shoulder at him, nodding your head before watching him walk out of the room, and the door closes.

As soon as the latch clicked behind him, your knees gave out, falling to the ground, and sobs tore through your lips. Your cries bounced off the walls, the pain that had been sitting idly in your chest finally coming free.

—

Two days later, just like Jisung and your father had said, the water kingdom's men arrived at your castle. Not a word was uttered from your lips as you were escorted to the carriage, the tears in your eyes long since dried up, leaving behind an empty numbness.

"Think of the people, my dear sister," Your brother, who had your arms hooked through his, as he walked you through the palace gates.

The sound of your inexpensive heeled boots echoed off the pavement; they were given to you just this morning by your mother's maids. They were to keep the water from seeping through to your feet. They were a parting gift, one that your mother couldn't be bothered to give you herself. Just like she couldn't be bothered to be here to see you off as you were whisked away to an unknown kingdom.

"What people, brother? We've never had any affiliation with the Water Nation, so why now?" Your words came out hoarse from having not spoken for days, throat rubbed raw from endless hours of crying.

"Don't worry yourself about the little things, just do as you're told, and you'll be happy." Those were the last words that your dear brother had spoken to you before you were ushered into the carriage, the unfamiliar maids fixing your gown inside.

Maybe your brother was right. Maybe this was for the best of the people, for a reason you don't even fully understand. Maybe if you just played the role of a dutiful wife, you could live comfortably.

Those were the types of thoughts that ran through your head during the ride, the world outside you blurring past. You hadn't even registered that someone was speaking to you until you felt an impatient tap to your arm. Blinking a few times to try and clear your mind, you looked over, finding one of the maids looking at you expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Your voice was merely above a whisper, and the woman let out a sigh, her face relaxing slightly before she spoke.

"The king does not want to wait for a ceremony. He's asked to officiate the marriage as soon as we arrive at the palace." She explained to you, and you felt your heart seize in your chest, your breath hitched, words stalling on your tongue.

You had believed that you would have a little time to fully understand the predicament you had been placed in. A few days at least to become comfortable in your home before you are dragged to the man's chambers. At least to have some time to grieve the life you once believed you'd live.

But in just a short amount of time, that small flame of hope had been snuffed out.

"We'll take you to your chambers to change into a new gown fit for the Water Nation, then you're to meet with the king in the grand halls." She continued to explain, but her words all but fell on deaf ears as you began to realize the severity of what you were to do.

Out. Get out. You needed to get out.

Your brain kept repeating that mantra, the sounds drowning out anything around you. Tears brimmed along your waterline, but never fell. Not until the carriage came to a stop and the door swung open.

"We've arrived, Your Highness," The maid motioned towards the open door, waiting for you to move, and with your breath caught in your throat, you moved, stepping out of the carriage with shaky knees.

Stepping onto the pavement below the carriage, you looked up at the palace before you. The glittering blue stones reflected the setting sun beautifully. It gave the illusion that you were standing below the ocean's surface. It was beautiful, but it was also your prison.

"Right this way, Your Highness," A butler motioned towards the palace gates with a bow, and you swallowed past the lump in your throat. Your eyes flickered to your surroundings, taking note of how lively everything here looked compared to the Fire Nation that you called your home.

Birds chirped above you in an almost sing-song way, and your head snapped in their direction, having only heard tales of the creatures. A part of you felt like a child exploring a new land and learning new things, but as you heard the heavy palace doors open, that small child inside you cowered into the furthest depths of your soul.

Your jaw clenched tightly as you stepped inside, heart raging against your chest, and as soon as your heeled boot met the smooth marble flooring, you felt a wave of chilled air wash over you. Goosebumps littering your naturally warm skin. Then the doors behind you slammed shut, the loud sound causing you to jump as it reverberated off the walls. Looking behind you, you only found one of the maids behind you, while the butler stayed a few steps ahead.

Get out, now. You're not safe here.

There it was again. That same little voice in the back of your mind, pleading with you to go. Warning you of the dangers that lurked in the walls of this palace. You were no fool; you knew how cruel the king of the Water Nation was. How he has gone through at least a dozen wives, all having died due to either childbirth or mysterious reasons.

Was that the same fate that awaited you? Were you going to become merely another wife who met a bitter, bitter end? Would it be the labor of childbirth or the abuse you may face? A part of you hopes for the earlier option, at least you'd leave this world with an offering for a peaceful passage.

No.

No, you mustn't let yourself think like that. You would be the one who survives. The one that makes it out alive. The one who escapes that fate that awaits her.

The one that got away.

You weren't sure how long you had been walking, nor how far you had traveled into the palace. Just that when you finally pulled yourself from your thoughts, you were standing before a luxurious bedroom. The inside, much like the rest of the palace, was decorated in ocean blues and turquoise.

"The maids inside will help you dress, then you'll be escorted to the main hall." The butler explained before motioning you into the room, and you gave him a curt nod, eyes downcast as you walked inside.

The heavy door latched shut behind you, and your stomach twists violently as your one escape route has been closed off. Walking further into the room, you unfolded your hands that had been neatly placed in front of you, taking in the sight of the nearly translucent blue gown that was displayed. Bile crept up the lining of your throat, knowing that this gown would do just about anything but protect your modesty.

A small gasp fell from your lips when someone grabbed a hold of your arm. Head snapping over you found a young girl, her hands gentle on your thinly covered skin as she urged you towards a side room. That's when you realized that it was only her and one other maid who was fidgeting next to a vanity.

Not a word was spoken as she guided you towards a steaming bath, the area closed off from the rest of the room by a thin curtain. You wanted to speak as she helped you shrug off the complicated layers of your current gown, but the words glued themselves to your tongue.

"Why have you come here?" Her sudden voice startles you, and you look over at her with wide eyes. No maid has ever spoken so freely to you, let alone hold your gaze as she does. "I don't mean to come off brazen, but this place is not for you; you will only find misery here, Princess."

"I—" The words once again stuck themselves to the lining of your throat as you stood before her in nothing but your undergarments.

But you didn't have to speak for her to see it in your eyes. The hard edges of her face softened, and she carefully reached for your hand, her skin unnaturally cold to the touch. "You must leave at once."

"I… I can't." You started, the tears you had tried so hard to keep at bay began to drip from your lashes, "I wouldn't even know where to go."

"You won't have much time, but the drop from the balcony isn't very high. From there, you go north, you'll find the sea, and I'm sure there will be boats." She explained to you in a hushed, hurried tone as her grip tightened around your shaking hands, "If there are no boats, then you shall find a cavern, find refuge in there, you'll be safe, I can assure you."

You looked at her with wide, teary eyes, completely unsure if you could trust her word, but the sincerity that gleamed in her eyes gave you back that shred of hope you thought snuffed out. It took you a few long moments before you were nodding, and she offered you a small, pitiful smile.

"We must bathe you first, only after we redress you can you go." She explained, furthering her words by telling you that the other maid will leave once she is dressed.

So that's what you did, you let yourself sink into the steaming waters of your bath. As you washed away the grime from the trip, you couldn't help but let your gaze drift to the girl who had turned to gather a towel for you. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun that you were sure was hurting her scalp, but what intrigued you was the color. What you had believed to be black was actually a deep midnight blue, only noticeable when the setting sun beamed through the small windows.

Then you swore you saw what looked like scales on her collarbone when she bent down, the hem of her dress dropping just a hair. Though you chalked it up to a trick of the eye when she stood, holding a towel in her hand as she helped you stand.

You wrapped the soft cotton around your body before allowing her to lead you back into the main chambers. Her demeanor shifted back into the meek girl you had met the first time you walked into the room, and the other maid walked over, none the wiser to the conversation that had just transpired, and grabbed your other arm.

Once again, the room fell into a still silence, not a word spoken, and the only sounds were the rustling of fabric as both maids worked together to fit you into the gown. Your eyes flickered over to the balcony door that sat ajar on the far left side of the room. The cool breeze from outside washes over you every so often.

"Maid Yang, please finish prepping the princess while I go make sure everything in the grand hall is settled." The older maid spoke softly as she finished fastening your corset, and you felt your heart leap into your throat.

"Yes, ma'am." The younger girl bows before turning to lead you to the vanity, her gaze shifting over her shoulder as she watches the other woman walk out of the room.

The two of you stopped moving as she slipped out, the heavy doors shutting behind her, and a long beat of silence passed between you and the younger girl. Then, once she was sure that no one would venture into the room once more, she grabbed your arm in a hurried manner, ushering you towards the open balcony door.

"Go. Now." Her voice was stern as she peeked over her shoulder when you neared the edge of the balcony, nothing but plush green grass a few feet below. The drop wasn't deadly, but you would definitely gain a few scratches and bruises if you were lucky to avoid any broken bones.

"Thank you." You breathed out with a smile as you turned to look at the younger girl, a pang of guilt hitting your chest. You knew that if you left, you would only be leaving her to take the punishment of letting you escape, but right now, all you could do was make sure that her efforts to help you wouldn't be in vain.

"Go live a better life, Princess," She offered you a sweet smile as she helped you over the ledge of the balcony, your bare feet nearly slipping on the smooth marble.

Then, with one last nod of appreciation, you jump from the balcony, tucking your body to try and minimize as much damage as you could. A sharp gasp fell from your lips as your body collided and rolled on the grass; the ache alone was enough to tell you that you'd definitely have bruises within the next few hours. Without sparing another second, you leaped to your feet, glancing back just in time to see the girl disappear back into the palace, and that's when you realized.

You never got her name.

But you didn't have time to dwell on the trivial things; you needed to get as far away as you could before they sent guards after you. So you ran without looking back, hands gripping the skirt of your dress as your bare feet trudged through the grass. You could feel the thin edges of the grass blades slicing through your bare skin, but the pain was in the back of your mind, pushed even further as you heard shouting in the distance behind you.

Your heart rang in your ears, legs burning as you continued to push yourself closer and closer to the beach. And you couldn't help but cry out when it came into view, tears blurring your vision. As soon as your feet touched the warm sand, you looked around for any signs of a boat.

With heavy breaths, you rushed towards a small fishing boat you saw tied to the pier closest to shore. Your hands trembled as you fought with the rope knot, and sobs tore through your throat. Then the voices grew closer, and your head whipped around.

"There she is!" The head guard shouted as he pointed at you, and your eyes grew wide.

"No, no, no." You weren't going to be able to get that knot undone in time. No, you needed to run before they caught up fully. So, remembering the cavern that the maid had mentioned to you, you ran, kicking sand up in your wake.

"After her!" The kingsmen shouted again, and you barely heard him over the sound of the waves crashing over the rigid rocks near the shore. They only seemed to get angrier the further you ran, as if they were warning you about something unknown or angry about the horde of men that were on your heels.

As you neared the rocky formation on the far side of the beach, your gaze swept all over, trying to find an entrance. Pain shot through the soles of your feet as the jagged rocks sliced your skin wide open, leaving behind trails of crimson blood in your wake. But the pain didn't deter you, no, if anything, it only spurred you on.

Then you finally spotted the entrance as you rounded the corner, and the gaping hole loomed over you as you stopped dead in your tracks. However, the sound of the nearing kingsmen had you pushing your fear to the side and rushing inside just as one managed to grab your arm.

"Let me go!" You screamed, clawing at his hand, and whether it be the pain of your nails in his skin or the silk of your sleeve, you slipped from his grasp and stumbled into the dark cavern. You tried to regain your balance, but your body seemed to be working against you, and you fell to the ground.

"There's nowhere else to run, Princess." The guard's gruff voice sent a shiver down your spine, and tears blurred your vision as you crawled back.

Sobs tore through your lips as they started to surround you in the dark space, and you knew that there was no escaping. You never should have thought about running, knowing that the fate that awaited you was far worse than before. Tears spilled from your eyes as you squeezed them shut, waiting for them to grab you and drag you back to the palace.

A deep growl echoed around the cavern. The sound came from behind you, and your body went rigid. A newfound fear encased your entire being. Not only had the kingsmen caught up to you, but you ran right into a beast's home. At least this outcome would be far sweeter than what the king would do to you once he had his hands on you.

The ground beneath you began to rumble as whatever was behind you shifted; that same growl was heard once more, louder this time. You didn't dare look back, knowing by the sound and the shift in the ground that whatever it was behind you was huge.

"Beast!" One of the guards shouted, drawing their swords, and the man, before he reached towards you. However, before his hand could make contact with you, a large claw swung, throwing the man across the cavern. Even in the dim lighting, you could make out the glittering blue scales on the claw that now sat beside your body.

Despite the fear that held your body captive, you allowed your head to tilt back, tears silently flowing from the corner of your eyes. Your mouth parted, breath catching on the inhale as you saw the head of the beast looming over you.

The head of a beast that you had only seen skulls of in your father's study. One that the people believed to have gone extinct after the war over two decades ago. The scales and horns are a distinct mark of a reptile that you've heard countless tales about, even the tales of people who could shift into these beasts. They were believed to be of dragon descent.

Though you never thought you'd live to see a dragon.

"Kill it and grab the princess." Another guard growled as he charged with his men, and your head snapped back down at the rushed footsteps.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to move away, but your limbs felt like jelly and refused to work with you. A choked gasp fell from your lips when you felt something coil around your waist. Before you could look, your body was lifted from the ground, pulled back until your back met the smooth stone of the cavern wall.

Everything happened way too fast, the shouting. The growls. The cries of pain. Then the low rumble of something building, and your eyes grew wide as you watched the scales on the creature's neck begin to glow a bright blue hue. It slowly rose up its neck, and you didn't even catch the guards screaming to run before a loud roar echoed around you. The sound was loud enough for your ears to ring even after you covered them with your skinned palms.

The once-dim cavern lit up blue as the dragon spewed something that closely resembled water, but it glowed. An almost unbearable heat filled the cavern as the boiling water landed on the guards around the dragon.

Then it was silent.

No more screaming or yelling. No more growling. No more roaring. Just… silence.

A pained cry ripped from your lips when the water spread across the cavern floors, pooling around your feet and burning the bare skin. Tears escaped your lips as you tried to scramble away, but accidentally placed your hand in the burning liquid.

The sound of a low, guttural growl has you stopping dead in your tracks despite the pain that coursed through your veins. Looking up, you found a pair of glowing blue eyes staring down at you, the sight shocking you straight to your core. You watched with hitched breath as it stepped towards you, tail flicking behind it and all but throwing the unmoving bodies from your sight.

"Y-You…" You tried to speak, but the words stuck themselves to the roof of your mouth when its tail moved towards you once more. You didn't move an inch as it wrapped around you, but unlike the fear that you had felt moments ago, there was something comforting about the way it tightened around you. Never enough to stop you from breathing, but just enough to make sure you wouldn't slip from its grasp.

You held your breath as it lifted you from the ground, moving your body further into the cavern, but you couldn't see anything. Then your body was being sat down, and you expected more stone, but were met with the cool sensation of water. The chill instantly soothes the searing pain in the soles of your feet, and you nearly cry out in relief.

When its tail released its grip, your body dropped into the shallow water, soaking your gown and sending a chill through you. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to get up; instead, you stayed on your knees, letting the water cool the burns and blisters that had begun to form on your soles and palms.

The sound of movement caught your attention, and you turned your head to find those glowing blue eyes staring down at you. Swallowing thickly, you rose up on your knees, pulse throbbing at the base of your throat.

"T-Thank you." You stumble over the simple thanks, voice hoarse due to all the crying, and you could feel your body begin to grow weak as the adrenaline wore off. You weren't sure why the dragon had helped you; maybe it thought you'd make a good meal, and the others were just in the way. Or it was just saving you for last. Whichever it was would be a better outcome than before, so you were willing to accept it as your vision swam, your mind shutting off, and your body swaying before crashing into the water.

The creature let out a grunt before moving closer to the water, its form shimmering and shifting until a man stood where the dragon once did. His blue eyes never left your limp form, a curiosity bubbling in his chest the longer he watched you, and a familiar warmth spread through his body. Stepping into the water, he grabbed your lax body, pulling you into his arms, and as soon as your shallow breath met the skin of his chest, he knew.

You were the mate he had been waiting for.

His key to going back home.

—

You stirred with a groan, joints aching and protesting with every move as you tried to sit up. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, burning slightly. The area around you was bathed in a warm glow, nothing like the darkness you seemed to recall. Then you remembered where you were and your head whipped around.

What you had expected to find was the same dragon that you had seen before. The one who had protected you from the kingsmen and helped with your burns. However, what you were met with instead was a man, his sharp features illuminated by the orange hues of the fire that he sat next to. But what caused your breath to hitch was the horns that sat upon his head and the familiar blue hues that stared right at you.

"You're awake." His deep voice echoes in your ears, and you blink at him, "The burns were pretty severe, so I put a salve on them; they shouldn't hurt for much longer."

Looking down, you saw that your left hand and both feet had been wrapped with bandages. Curiosity seemed to defeat the fear at that moment. You wondered where the large beast had gone, but as you met the man's eyes once more, you seemed to already know your answer.

"Who are you?" You asked, voice meek as you carefully moved to face him fully, and his eyes shifted down for a few seconds before meeting your eyes once more.

"I should be asking you that," He cocked an eyebrow, setting the stick he had been using to poke the fire off to the side. "The people of this Nation know better than to travel into these caverns, but you? You rushed right in as if you didn't know what lies inside."

"I'm…" Your words caught around the lump that had formed in your throat, and you quickly swallowed it back down, "I'm not from this Nation."

Your answer seemed to intrigue the male before you, and his blue eyes searched your face with a curious gaze. "Where are you from?"

"The Fire Nation." You tell him, placing your hands into your lap, eyes following when his intense gaze becomes too much. It was then that you realized that you were still wearing the gown the king had picked out, and heat rushed up your neck.

"Well, Princess," His words and tone cause your head to snap up. You hadn't told him that you were the princess, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out when the guards had been screaming it. "Why did you come here?"

"My father wanted to marry me off to the Water Nation's King." You weren't sure why you were telling this strange man something so easily, but the words just flowed out naturally. Inhaling deeply, you fully introduce yourself, and Mingi just watches with an unreadable expression, annoyance flickering in his blue orbs when you mention the source of the dress you are wearing.

Once your voice trailed off, the cavern fell into an eerie silence, one that left the hairs on the back of your neck standing tall. Then the man was standing, moving towards you, and you felt your pulse quicken with every step until he was kneeling before you. His dark blue hair framed his face, sharp eyes boring into your own, but you didn't see any sign of hostility.

"My name is Song Mingi," He introduced himself, and your eyes grew wide. You had heard that name in tales since you were a mere teen; he was a dragon descendant duke who was loved by his people and feared by other nations. It was believed that he had died in the war, but as you studied his face, you knew that hadn't been true. It also confirmed your earlier suspicion that he was, in fact, the dragon that had been lurking in this cavern.

"Why have you hidden here? You're a duke." You stated in shock, eyes growing wide as he reached forward and took your injured hand into his. His skin was cool against yours, but it didn't stop the warmth spreading through your body. It felt as if there were a magnetic pull towards him, one you couldn't fight.

"My uncle, he's taken over the estate while I was gone, and I haven't had the strength to return." He began explaining, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles. Mingi's eyes never once left yours, and you couldn't find it in you to look away even when his next words shocked you: "I need your help, princess."

You couldn't disconcert if he was calling you by your title or a petname, either way it had your heart jumping. His gentle touch had your muscles relaxing, and you blinked slowly as his request settled in your mind.

"My help? What could I possibly do to help you?" You asked, fingers flexing in his grasp when his thumb brushed over the bandage, but the lingering pain was nothing compared to your confusion and curiosity.

"The only reason my uncle's heirs have kept the estate is simply that they believe me to be dead," He tells you, his eyes flittering down to your hand when he felt your pulse jump.

"So why don't you return? They could giv—"

"Yet they will not. They have had it in their grasp for far too long. I need to secure my spot, and to do so, I need to prove I can further my lineage." He explains further, gaze moving up to meet yours with expectant eyes, and it didn't take but a moment for you to realize what he was asking.

"You want me to be your bride?" You asked, voice but a whisper, scared that if you spoke any louder, you'd bring your earlier panic back.

Mingi hummed, fingers tightening around yours firmly when you tried to pull away, "Just for a while, then once I have the estate back, you'll be free to leave and go as you please."

You wanted to tell him that he was crazy, that he had no right to ask this of you when you had just run from a marriage. Yet as you met his blue eyes, you could hear that little voice in the back of your mind again, but this time it wasn't telling you to run. Rather, it was telling you that you were safe.

That you were home.

It only confused you, and you wished you could ask what in the great heavens it meant, but alas, you couldn't. However, as you looked into the man's eyes, you couldn't help but feel that the voice was right. So despite your earlier reservations, you found yourself nodding, eyes scanning his face and lingering on the smooth patches of scales that sat underneath his eyes.

"What about the king?" You asked, eyes returning to his, and your heart leapt at the sight of the smile that tugged on his plump lips.

"Even the king wouldn't dare defy a dragon descendant, let alone a shifter," Mingi reassured you, and his warm smile mixed with his gentle presence was enough to have you relax.

"When would we leave?" Your question was answer enough for the dragon, and he hummed softly, eyes gazing back down at your hand.

"Let's get these healed first, then we can deal with other things after." He told you, bringing your hand to his face, and your eyes grew wide as heat flushed your face when he pressed his lips over the bandage. "Need you healed for a proper return."

The first few days were awkward, unsure what you were to do in such a confined space or what to say to the man who never left your eyesight. You tried to make small talk, but it always fizzled out after a few sentences, and you were left with your eyes downcast, the tips of your ears burning red.

However, the following days seemed to go by more easily; Mingi always made sure that you were fed and that your bandages were taken care of, even going as far as to bring you a change of clothes. He was nothing like the stories had described him to be. The cold and ruthless man you had read about was nowhere to be found; only the gentle giant who treated you as if you were a doll.

By the end of the second week, you had grown comfortable around the man; the earlier awkwardness was nowhere in sight. You found yourself talking to him about your life in the fire palace while he told you stories from the war, even about his own family.

You found yourself growing close to the blue-haired male, his kind ocean eyes all but pulling you further in. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself drawn to him, fingers itching to reach out and touch him, brain begging you to do so, but you kept your restraint. You chalked it up to it being that he had been your only companion for the past few weeks.

Then by the middle of the third week, Mingi was walking back into the cavern with a beautiful gown in his arms, and you knew that it was time. You stood from the log you had been sitting on, dusting your hands off on the skirt of your current dress, eyes flickering from his smiling face to the blue gown in his arms.

"For you, Princess." He walked up to you, his larger frame towering over you, and your breath caught in your throat as you smelled the sea salt on his skin. You swallowed thickly before reaching out to take the gown, ignoring the emotions that bubbled in your gut.

"It's beautiful, Mingi, thank you." You murmured as you blinked up at him, and he gave you a lopsided smile.

"Go ahead and put it on, we'll leave in the evening." He nodded down at you, and your eyes went wide.

"But the estate is at least a three-day trek from here."

The blue-haired dragon chuckled as he placed his large hand upon your head, "Who says we're walking?"

You wanted to ask him what in the world he could possibly mean, but he was already moving around you, fingers reaching for the buttons of his tunic. Your eyes went wide as he began removing his tunic. Heat enveloped your body the longer you watched him undress. A soft gasp fell from your lips when he reached for the button of his trousers, hands bringing your new gown to your face, and the sound of Mingi's chuckles filled the air.

You didn't dare to move the cloth, unsure as to what the man was doing or if he was still indecent. Then you felt a large huff of air wash over you, and your breath hitched. Slowly bringing the gown away from your face, your eyes went wide at the sight of the large dragon that was now standing before you, his glowing blue eyes looking down at you.

This time, you couldn't help but stare at his blue scales, glittering under the orange firelight. Nothing but wander filled your eyes as he brought his head down, your hand instinctively reaching up and allowing him to nuzzle into your now-healed palm. His scales were cool to the touch, much like his skin was. Your hand didn't hold a candle to the sheer size of his snout, and when his mouth opened with a hum, you couldn't help but smile at the soft noise.

He then moved his tail towards you, poking the dress in your arms with the tip. Understanding what was meant, you dropped your hand and took a step back. He moved towards the entrance before sitting down, giving you one last glance before averting his attention elsewhere and giving you some privacy.

You didn't waste any time in undressing yourself, holding back a shiver as the cool air of the cavern washed over you. The dress was a beautiful ocean blue, one that closely resembled the scale on Mingi's body. It was a floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline, and the sheer sleeves flowed past your hands, nearly touching the ground by your feet. You struggled with the bodice for a few moments but managed to set it before flattening out the layered skirt with your hands, fingers catching on the dangling jewels.

"It's beautiful." You spoke in awe as you looked down, twirling slightly, and you heard a high-pitched chirp, causing you to look over. Mingi had turned his head and his gaze focused solely on you, and you looked at him with a bashful gaze.

Swallowing thickly, you thanked the large reptile before grabbing his discarded messenger bag and stuffing his clothes inside, knowing he'd need them once you arrived at your destination. Once you were sure you had everything, you grabbed the heels that Mingi had brought with the gown and moved towards his larger form.

"Let's get this show on the road, Duke Song." You smiled up at him, and he bowed his head slightly before rising back to his full height. He moved out of the large mouth of the cavern, and you followed closely behind, careful of his swaying tail.

Once you were both outside, you could see the remnants of the setting sun, the sky painted in beautiful hues of oranges and purples. You took a moment to look, eyes tracing every curve until you felt a small nudge against your back, and you looked over your shoulder at the large blue-scaled dragon who had lowered his body to the ground. Your heart races at the thought of what he was insinuating, but you knew that this was all part of the plan, nothing more, nothing less.

So you slipped your heels onto your feet before carefully pulling yourself onto the dragon's back, careful of the spines that jutted out. You fix his bag around your body before wrapping one hand around the spine in front of you and tapping his side with the other, letting him know that you are ready.

You held your breath when he began to move, his wings spreading wide as he neared the cliff edge. The colors of his scales were even more beautiful under the setting sun; the mixture of dark ocean blues and vibrant turquoise was mesmerizing.

A sharp gasp then fell from your lips when he took off, the speed enough to knock the air from your lungs as you clung tightly to his back. Tears started to sting in the corner of your eyes due to the harsh winds, and your chest felt tight because of the lack of proper oxygen. You weren't sure how long this went on for, but before long, his body evened out, and the rush of air lessened, allowing you to finally breathe properly.

"My goodness…" You breathed out as you let your teary eyes flutter open, gaze falling on the city below you before flickering to the glittering sea on the other side. It was beautiful.

Though the high altitude made it difficult to breathe, Mingi made sure to stay low enough that it wouldn't harm you. The last thing he wanted or needed was for you to pass out mid-flight, where he would risk hurting you as he caught you.

You couldn't help the child-like laughter that bubbled out of your chest as you looked around. The sight was something that you would etch into every crevice of your mind, knowing that you wouldn't get the chance to see it again.

Then the sky darkened, and stars began to appear one by one, and your eyes widened. You never got the chance to see the stars aside from trips to the Earth region when you were younger. The smoke from the ever-burning forests in the Fire Nation clouded the sky, blocking your view of the stars. So you soaked in the sight, connecting the consolations you had read about so many times in books from the old shelves of the library.

Mingi's head turned just enough so he could see your wander-filled gaze, and he felt his heart thump against his strong ribs. His blue hues studied your face, making note to bring you out more in the future and hoping that you stayed long enough for you to let him.

It was the dead of the night by the time the Duke's estate came into view as Mingi descended towards the ground. Your grip tightened on the spine in front of you as the harsh winds returned and your breath caught in your throat when he landed, the vibration of the rumble shot through your body nearly making you lightheaded.

The sound was enough to bring the attention of the people residing in the estate. You could hear gasps and shouts as Mingi lowered his body, allowing you to slide from his scaly back. Moving around his large body, you came face-to-face with two men who were dressed peckishly as well as a woman with a child on her hip, then a crowd of what you could only guess were their maids and servants behind them.

"H-How is this possible?" The older man in the front spoke, his voice showing his age as he stumbled forward. Disbelief etched into his features, and you felt movement behind you.

"Greetings, uncle, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" Mingi's voice flowed into your ears, and you turned your head just enough to catch sight of his half-turned form, his horns still sitting perfectly in his azure locks. A blush formed on your cheeks as you realized that he was standing before his family without any proper clothing, and you quickly handed him the messenger bag. "Thank you, my love."

Your heart leapt at the petname, mouth going dry, and all you could do was muster up a smile. The feeling of eyes boring into your side made you acutely aware of the nobility that stood before you, but you had to remind yourself that you were a princess—royalty.

"Cousin, you should know you aren't welcome here." The other man spoke, and your eyes flickered over to him, a sudden rush of annoyance ripping through your body, and you couldn't stop the scoff that escaped your lips.

"If anyone isn't welcome here, it's the likes of you. You all are nothing but illegitimate blood hoarding something that was never yours to begin with." You seethed, eyes narrowing as you glared at the man, and Mingi stopped mid-button to look at you in shock before a ghost of a smirk spread on his lips.

"You wrench! Who gave you the right to speak to me like that?" The man seethed, stepping closer to you, but stopped dead in his tracks when a low growl reverberated from deep within Mingi's chest, his eyes glowing in warning.

"That is my wife, so you are to watch your tone when speaking to her," Mingi growled, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you behind him. You looked up at Mingi's taller figure with semi-wide eyes, your heart beating furiously under your ribs as heat crept up your neck.

"W-Wife?" Mingi's uncle was the next to speak as he moved closer to his song, grabbing his arm, knowing very well what Mingi was capable of.

"Yes. Meet Princess Y/n of the Fire Nation, my wife." Mingi introduced you as he allowed you to move back to his side once he deemed it safe to do so. At his introduction, hushed whispers fell over the crowd, and you could see the fear swimming in the old man's eyes, knowing that his title was slipping from his fingers. "Now, shall we move this conversation inside where my wife can be comfortable, or do I need to make a path?"

Your lips parted, breath catching on the inhale at his tone. The power that seeped from his words alone was enough to leave anyone trembling in their shoes. Yet you could only look at him in nothing but astonishment. Not only was he going to get what he wanted while he was here, but he was also making sure you were comfortable along the way. At least you thought that until you remembered that this was only a deal, you weren't actually his wife, and he was just here to gain his title back.

"Quickly, make space for Her Highness and the Duke." The woman with the child told the maids behind her, the child resting her head against the woman's shoulder with a sleepy gaze.

"Thank you, Clara." Mingi gave the woman a smile, and had you not known any better, you would've thought that it was kind. But you saw the hatred and anger simmering deep in his blue eyes.

Mingi wraps his arm loosely around your waist, guiding you towards the estate but also keeping you close to his body in a protective manner. You kept your head held tall like you had been taught since you were a child, not letting their judging gazes get to you.

The inside of the estate was bathed in a warm hue, and the scent of vanilla and bourbon filled your senses. Glancing over, you noticed Mingi's nose scrunched, and the sight has you smiling softly. You move your body just enough for his arm to slip from your waist, allowing you to hook your arm around his.

"Right this way, Your Grace." One of the maids pointed both of you towards the stairs, but Mingi didn't move an inch, his eyes trained on his uncle and cousin, who had just walked into the foyer.

"I think it's best we talk first, we have a lot to catch up on, don't you think?" Mingi asked, eyebrow cocking as he turned to fully face the two men. His stature would have any normal person cowering away, and you could tell it was taking a lot for the two men to keep their composure.

"You want the estate." His uncle stated, and Mingi's lips curve into a wolfish smirk.

"Yes,"

"I'm afraid that's not possible; this belongs to my father." Mingi's cousin spoke up once more with a glare; however, his father grabbed his arm.

"See my dearest cousin, that's where you're wrong." Mingi stepped towards the man, letting his arm slip from your grasp, and said, "This entire land belonged to me before you measly rats came and made yourselves at home."

"How dare yo—"

"I thought I warned you about your tone," Mingi growled, his claws extending and pressing right against the younger male's throat, breaking skin. "It seems your father failed to teach you proper manners. Now, I suggest we talk like men because it would be a shame for your wife and child to watch as you bleed out at their feet."

Your chest tightened at the threat, and you knew you should be scared that he would so easily take another man's life. But you weren't. No, if anything, the tone he used had a wave of heat washing over you, and you folded your hands in front of your body to keep the trembling at bay.

"Mingi, think of your father." His uncle's words seemed to flip a switch in the blue-haired male, and the room fell into a chilling temperature. Mingi's blue eyes glowed brightly as he glared at the older male, hand encasing his cousin's throat and pulling a choked gasp out of him.

"You have no right to speak of my father," Mingi growled, fingers tightening around the man's throat, and you were sure that if he added just a bit more pressure, he would snap his neck.

Then the sound of the child's cries caught your attention. Your head snaps over to the mother and child who were watching the scene before them in horror. Your heart ached for them, and as much as you wished you could spare the man for their sake, you knew Mingi wouldn't allow it, so you did the next best thing. Walking over to the woman you grabbed her arm gently and caught her attention, she looked at you with teary eyes, a mixture of emotions swimming in her eyes.

"Spare yourself and your daughter from this nightmare. Go, now." You urged her and the crying child towards the stairs, and with a quick glance at the maid who stood nearby, she understood. With a nod, she grabbed the woman's arm and ushered her up the stairs and away from the gruesome scene that was awaiting down below.

"Last chance, uncle," Mingi's voice echoes around the room, causing a shiver to run down your spine, and the older man looks at his nephew in shock. His eyes flickered from Mingi to his dying son, whose lips began to turn blue due to lack of oxygen.

"W-We'll return the estate. Just release him." His uncle begged, panic written all over his face, the moment he noticed his son's movements dying down.

"Not just the estate. Everything. And you lot are to leave without a coin." Mingi growled, his grip growing even tighter, and you feared that he would actually snap the man's neck, so you moved closer to him carefully.

"Yes! We'll return everything!" The old man trembled in his spot as his son's life hung by a thread, and a sinister smirk spread on Mingi's lips. He then released the man, letting him drop to the floor before bringing that same hand to his uncle's face, patting his cheek roughly.

"Good choice," Mingi chuckled as he took a step back, right into your awaiting arms, where his gaze flickered for a moment before the smirk dropped into a snarl, "now get out."

"Clara!" The older man began to shout, but Mingi shook his head, stopping the maid who went to fetch the woman with a pointed glare.

"The woman and child can stay. You two are to leave this instant." Mingi brought his heated gaze back to the two men. His uncle didn't spare another second before hauling his coughing son from the floor and lugging him towards the main doors, ignoring his choked protests.

The foyer then fell into a lingering silence; no one dared to move for fear of being under the dragon's wrath next. However, as your hands wrapped around Mingi's bicep, he could feel his anger and annoyance begin to simmer away.

"You must be tired, my love." Mingi's tone came out sweet, the sound leaving you weak in the knees, even more so when his soft gaze fell upon you, "Show my wife to our chambers, I'm sure you know which one that is."

He told the maids that still stood behind you, and they quickly nodded, showing you towards the stairs, but you cast one last glance at the blue-haired dragon. Mingi offered you a smile with a slight nod of his head, and you felt your shoulders relax before allowing the maids to show you to the master chambers, where they helped you get dressed for bed, and you fell onto the soft mattress, sleep quickly overtaking your body as the events of the day finally caught up to you.

—

You weren't sure what time it was when you woke the next day, but what you did know was that all hell had broken loose downstairs. Without even bothering to change, just grabbing a robe, you shrugged it over your shoulders and rushed down the stairs, where the yelling seemed to rise even louder.

"This isn't your home anymore. How dare you try to take it away!" The woman's voice rang loudly in your ears as you rounded the corner into the main living space.

"This has always been my home, Clara. I'm simply taking back what belongs to me." Mingi stated coolly, eyes darkening as the woman before him huffed in frustration, tears flooding down her cheeks.

"Min—"

"You!" Mingi's name barely fell from your lips as Clara turned towards you with adulterated rage, and you felt your heart seize as she stomped towards you.

"Clara." The tone in which her name fell from Mingi's lips had your body going rigid, as well as Clara's, as she looked at you with a tear-filled gaze. However, under her anger, you could see something deeper—heavier.

Guilt and worry.

"Why? Why must you take this away from my child?" She choked through a sob, and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You took a tentative step towards her despite Mingi's warning gaze, hands carefully taking her and pulling her attention to you.

"Clara, you and your child can still live happily. Go explore the world or live peacefully. You have that freedom now." You spoke in a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the tone that Mingi had been using for the better half of the morning, and you could see her resolve crumble.

"W-Where are we to go? My family would rather be caught dead than bring their widowed daughter home." She cried and your eyebrows furrowed, what did she mean 'widowed'? Her husband was still alive…

At least you thought so until you glanced over at Mingi, who had sat back on the sofa, his azure eyes trained on you, and you knew that you had missed something. Inhaling deeply, you turn your attention back to the weeping woman who began to slump in your hold.

"I have an estate in my name on the borders of the Fire Nation. You and your child are free to live there until you please. No one would dare to bother you, and if they do, just send them my way." You tell her and her eyes grow wide, completely baffled that you would offer such a thing, but you didn't give her a breath to protest, instead you waved a maid over. "Please help Miss Clara pack her and her daughters' belongings while I draw up the directions,"

"Why are you helping me?" She asked, her voice cracking as she let her hands fall to the crook of your elbows, gripping the skin as if she thought this would be some cruel nightmare the moment she let go.

"Because I know what it's like to be trapped within an unwanted marriage. However, I was lucky to be taken away before it was set in stone. Now I want to help someone else escape that same fate." You told her, and the truth in your words made more tears drip from her long lashes: "Go live the life you have always wished for, raise your daughter with love, and show her the true wonders of the world."

"Thank you, Princess." She bowed deeply, and you fumbled to pull her back up, telling her that it wasn't necessary.

"This way, miss." The maid you had motioned over to the teary-eyed woman, who thanked you one last time before allowing herself to be escorted out of the room.

You stood there for a moment, watching as she disappeared around the corner and up the stairs before turning your attention to another maid, telling them to bring you a quill and paper. Then you finally let yourself meet the dragon's gaze, and your breath hitched at the intensity. Swallowing thickly, you moved towards him, his eyes tracking your every move even after you sat down.

There was an unspoken tension in the air as you waited, hands folded in your lap, and you wished Mingi would say something. Yet he never did, not even when the maid stepped up to the table, holding out the material you had asked for.

"Go fetch Her Grace a blanket." Mingi's voice was low when he spoke, the sound sending a shiver coursing through your body. The cushion next to you shifted as he sat up, his large hand finding the small of your back, and the weight made you swallow thickly. "You sure have a kind heart, Princess."

"Kindness is a virtue that very few have in this cruel world; it's only right to lend it to those who need it." You told him without meeting his gaze, heat creeping up your neck and burning the tips of your ears when you felt his breath against your neck.

"Should I be honored that you've lent me your kindness?" He asked, his voice right next to your ear, and your body froze in the middle of a sentence. Mingi could hear your heartbeat speed up, the sound causing the dragon to smirk; however, before he could push further, the maid walked back into the room.

"Your Grace." She bowed her head before handing the blue-haired male the fur blanket, which he took and unfolded instantly.

"Thank you, you're free to go." He spoke blandly before turning his focus back onto you, only to find you staring at him with scrunched eyebrows.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to lend out that same kindness sometimes, Your Grace." You told him pointedly before turning back to finish up the directions.

"Kindness for me will only lead me to my grave," He told you honestly, wrapping the soft fur around your body and tugging you towards him until his lips were merely inches away from yours as you turned your head in surprise, "you hand out the kindness for the both of us."

"M-Mingi…" You breathed out, eyes flickering to his plush lips that were just out of reach, and he knew, but he couldn't let himself fall into the temptation. Not now, not yet.

"But be careful who you hand it to, not everyone will treat you the same." The blue-eyed man warned you before releasing his grasp and moving back. You watched him with wide eyes as he stood, fixing his navy vest that hugged his torso just right before looking back at you, "I've got stuff to attend to. If you need anything, call for one of the maids."

Then, with that, he was walking out of the room, and you were left staring at his retreating form in confusion. Where had that kind and gentle man from the cavern gone to?

However, you decided not to let yourself get carried away with the thought; you knew that he was only using you to gain control of his estate. He would only send you away once he's accomplished his goal. So you decided that you would use the time you have here to do some good, and you would start with finishing these directions.

As the day went on, you found yourself going back to the blue-haired dragon, wondering what he was doing and if he had eaten. Though every time you asked the maids, they reassured you that they had delivered him food.

You tried to hold on to the reassurance as you helped Clara and her daughter climb into the carriage, wishing them a safe journey and to write if they ever needed anything. A soft gasp fell from your lips when the mother wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tightly and murmuring one last thank you before the carriage door was shut. You waved at the little girl as she beamed at you from the carriage window, the sight making your heart swell in happiness.

But as you watched the carriage disappear over the slopes, you couldn't help the lingering anxiety that came barreling into you. The feeling wound your chest tightly, and you rushed back into the estate and towards the kitchen.

"Your Grace," The maids bowed as they acknowledged your presence, and you waved them off before asking about Mingi's dinner. "We were just getting ready to deliver it to His Grace in the study."

"Let me," You grabbed the skirt of your dress and stepped further into the room despite their protests. However, you didn't leave much room for discussion, and they reluctantly handed you the tray after prepping it.

You thanked them before making your way back out of the kitchen and towards the study that you knew the blue-haired male would be hiding away in. The maid at the end of the hall quickly walked over, knocking on the door for you. When you heard the man's gruff voice saying to come in, she opened the door before letting you walk in and shutting it right behind you to offer some privacy.

"You can leave it over there." Mingi waved to the side, not bothering to look up from his papers, and you looked over to see the untouched trays that sat on a table to the side. Huffing softly, you stepped towards him, and as soon as your scent invaded the dragon's senses, his head snapped up, azure eyes locked on you with an unreadable expression. "What are you doing?"

"Coming to make you, you've been eating, and good thing I did," You rolled your eyes before stepping closer to the desk despite the low growl that rumbled from the man's chest. Moving around the oak desk you didn't bother to even look at what he had been reading, instead you sat the tray down on an empty spot before looking at him expectantly, "stop being such a brute and eat something."

"I'll eat after I'm finished," He exhaled sharply before letting his gaze fall back to the papers before him, and that had a surge of annoyance rushing through you.

Biting your lip, you propped your hands on your hips and watched him, your burning gaze causing his scales to tingle, and before long, he couldn't take it any longer. Dropping the pages once more, he turned to look at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"Eat." You told him pointedly and motioned to the food that was sitting, ignored on his desk. He began to open his mouth, and you already knew it was some kind of excuse, "Mingi, eat or I will tie you to that chair and shove it down your throat."

Your words took the man by surprise, his eyes growing wide by just a fraction, and his pulse thumped at the base of his throat. He hadn't expected to hear those words fall from your lips, but as he stared into your narrowed eyes, he could see the worry swimming beneath the annoyance. Reluctantly, he pushed his chair back and turned towards you, a cocky smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.

"Why doesn't my beautiful wife feed it to me?" He teased, and his choice of words has your heart leaping into your throat, your cheeks warmed fast, color rising before you could stop it. Mingi could see it on your face, and it only spurred him on, "You said you'd tie me to the chair and shove it down my throat, so keep good on your promise, princess."

"You're insufferable," You grumbled, but reached for the spoon nonetheless, gathering some of the food before moving towards the large dragon. Mingi looked up at you with nothing but mischief, and your jaw clenched tightly, "Mingi." Your tone was nothing short of warning, your patience wearing thinner by the second, but Mingi was enjoying it, maybe a little too much. When he didn't open his mouth, you felt that thread snap, and you exhaled slowly. "Fine, you want me to force feed you, then I'll force feed you."

In the next second, you had your knee pressing into his thigh while your free hand grabbed one of his horns, tugging his head back and eliciting a deep groan, and finally, his mouth fell open. Taking the chance, you shove the spoonful of food into his mouth, eyes boring into his, and Mingi felt heat envelope his body.

"Chew." You demanded, letting your hand fall to your side while your other one gripped his horn tighter. Mingi's hand instinctively flew to the back of your thigh, fingers gripping the soft flesh through the fabric of your gown.

You watched as he chewed before swallowing, and his azure eyes darkened into a deep blue, his gaze making your stomach flip. Heat pooled in your gut, and you could feel that pull once more, brain begging for you to give in to the temptation. Mingi wasn't too far behind you, fingers itching to grab and grope at any part of your body he could possibly reach. But before he could, you were slipping away from him, stumbling back and averting your gaze elsewhere as your cheeks and ears burned a bright red.

"Make sure you eat." You breathed out almost breathlessly before setting the spoon down and scurrying out of the room, leaving Mingi there to watch in amusement.

However, as his gaze flickered back to the papers before him, he knew he didn't have time for the trivial things right now. He could worry about it all once he made sure he had a secure place for you to stay—happy and healthy.

—

The game of push and pull seemed to go on for weeks; one of you would push the other's buttons to the point of their patience snapping, only for them to pull away when things got heated. It was starting to drive you insane, your mind swimming with the possibility that Mingi actually wanted you. But you quickly pushed that thought out of your head when you watched him sort through all the years of finances and deeds.

"Your Grace, your bath is ready." One of the maids spoke, startling you from where you sat at your vanity, mindlessly combing through your locks. Setting down the gemmed comb, you turned your attention to the girl, thanking her before making your way into the washroom.

The dim lighting of the moon reflected off the rippling water, and you couldn't help but be reminded of the azure dragon that sat just downstairs. Hidden away in his study once more.

Letting out a soft sigh, you sat on the ledge of the tub, running your fingers through the warm water. Then you heard a thump—quiet, but there. The sound had you leaping to your feet, eyes trained on the door as you looked around for any possible escape if it were to be an intruder. Then you heard heavy boots on the floors, and you knew it wasn't any of the maids, and it sure as hell wasn't Mingi.

Swallowing thickly, you moved further back into the room, searching for something—anything to protect yourself. Except you couldn't find a thing before the door was slamming open, a man standing in the doorway and blocking the main chamber's light.

"There you are, Princess," His voice sent a chill down your spine, more so when a smirk spread across his lips, "the king has been waiting very patiently for your return."

"I-I'm not going back." You told him, voice shaking as tears brimmed in your eyes, and you were brought back to that fear you had believed to be gone. Your eyes darted all over the room, for a weapon, for an escape, for anything.

"I'm afraid that's not up for discussion." He growled, moving towards you in quick strides, and you did the one thing you thought could possibly get you out of this.

"Mingi!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, the lining of your throat rubbing raw at the sheer force.

"Stupid wrench!" The man hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair before slamming your head into the wall next to you.

The impact draws a sharp cry from your lips, your vision swimming, and black spots clouding the edges. No, you couldn't pass out. You had to fight. You had to get out. You couldn't go back to that king. Tears of fear and pain mixed as they flowed down your cheeks, nails clawing at the man's wrist as he dragged you towards the door.

Safe. You're safe. He's here.

That little voice in the back of your mind spoke over the deafening ringing in your ears, and you could feel the fear start to dissipate. A comfort fell over you, and as soon as you lifted your blurry gaze, you met the glowing blue eyes of your fated dragon.

"Release her." Mingi's voice was low, but the growl in his tone bounced off the walls of the luxurious washroom, and the man stopped dead in his tracks. His narrow eyes found the male, but his face quickly morphed into one of fear as he realized who it was that stood before him. The man all but threw your body towards the blue-haired male witless scrambling back and Mingi was quick to catch you in his arms.

"Y-Y-You—" The man choked on his words as he stepped further into the bathroom, and Mingi felt nothing but unfiltered rage when he smelled the blood that had begun to seep from the gash on your forehead.

"Who sent you?" The dragon demanded as he tugged your weakening body closer to his, fingers grasping your side.

"T-The Water Nation king!" He exclaimed, pleading for Mingi to spare his life, and the taller male's eyes only grew brighter as he stared down at the cowering man.

Mingi's jaw tightened at the mention of the king you had fled from mere months ago. Glancing back at one of the maids, he motioned for her to take your dazed form, telling her to call the doctor after getting the bleeding under control.

He watched for a moment as the pair of women worked together to help your stumbling form out of the bedroom, incoherent murmurs fell from your lips. Once the door closed, he turned his attention back to the man before him.

"Now, I could kill you…" Mingi spoke coolly as he stepped towards the man, who shook his head violently, "But that would only be a waste, so here's what we shall do." The large dragon stopped in front of the man and crouched down, his arms resting on his knees as he watched the man cower into the corner, "First, you put your hands on my wife, my mate." Mingi growled, and in the blink of an eye, his large hand grasped the back of the man's head, slamming it into the wall much like he had done to you.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Weak pathetic pleas fell from the man's lips as he tried to focus his swimming vision.

"Second," Mingi's hand moved his hand from the man's head to his collar, tugging his body closer until his face was mere inches away from Mingi's. "You tell your king that if he dares to lay another finger on her, he'll have the wrath of the dragon descendant duke brought down upon this kingdom."

"Ye— Yes, Your Grace!" The perp nodded his head, trembling hands rubbing together in another pathetic attempt at a plea.

Mingi clicked his tongue before rising to his feet, pulling the man's body up as well and ignoring his pleas and jumbled words as he escorted him towards the front door, roughly. Once the front doors were open, Mingi all but threw the man outside, watching as his body slid against the jagged gravel.

"You fail your task, and I will hunt you down and skin you alive," Mingi growls, eyes widening just a hair as the blue burned brighter and the man scrambled to his feet, bowing deeply, "get out of my sights."

Then the man was tucking tail and running. Before long, his form was merely a speck in the night, and Mingi stepped back inside. The anger that radiated off the dragon had all of the staff cowering away; his gaze was enough to pierce through anyone's soul.

"Where is she?" He asked no one in particular, and one maid swallowed her nerves and motioned towards the stairs.

"This way, Your Grace." Her voice was meek, heart jumping when the Duke's fiery gaze fell upon her. But he didn't say a word as he allowed her to lead him back up the stairs and towards another chamber door.

Once the door was open, he was waving her away and stepping inside, where he found your motionless body lying beneath the covers. His heart skipped in his chest, and for the first time in many, many years, the dragon felt fear course through his veins. The lingering scent of your blood surrounded the man, and he swallowed thickly as he moved towards the bed where the doctor had just finished up.

"How is she?" Mingi's voice came out softer, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form, and the doctor bowed before rising.

"The blow was pretty hard, and the gash needed stitches," As the doctor explained. Mingi could feel his rage begin to surface once more, his upper lip pulling back into a snarl, the sharp point of his fangs gleaming in the dim lighting.

"I should've just killed that bastard." He growled lowly, fingers tightening around the wood of the bed frame, the wood creaking under his palms.

"She will probably be out for a while, but she should wake up within the next few days." The doctor continued his explanation, paying no mind to the large dragon, and moved towards the bedroom door after Mingi dismissed him.

Once the door closed, Mingi finally released his grip from the creaking wood and moved towards your pale body. He grabbed the armchair that stood nearby and sat down, taking your smaller hand into his. The room fell into a still silence, neither comfortable nor unbearable; just… still.

"I'm sorry, my love," The dragon whispers, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. His lips lingered there for a few long moments as he studied your face, and had it not been for the bloodied bandage that was wrapped around your head, he would've thought you were just sleeping. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

And he spent the rest of that night as well as the many following nights at your bedside. He barely let the maids near you, a threatening growl emitting from his throat when one got a little too close for his liking.

Then, it was early morning on the sixth day, and the sound of birds chirping outside the window was the first sound you heard. Your head pounded as you slowly opened your eyes, only to close them again due to the harsh sun rays. You tried to bring your hand up to shield your eyes from the light, but were stopped by a weight in your palm. Sitting up carefully, you blinked slowly, allowing your eyes to get used to the new brightness before you glanced over.

Your breath caught in your throat when you found none other than Mingi slumped over at your bedside. The evident eye bags under his eyes and the dull shimmer of his once bright scales told you that he hadn't slept in days. A soft smile curves on your lips as you bring your free hand over, brushing his hair from his face, careful not to touch his horns, knowing it'd wake him up.

The sound of the door opening had your shoulders going stiff, head snapping in the direction, only to find one of the maids walking into the room. A gasp fell from her lips when she saw that you were awake, but you quickly hushed her, pressing your index finger to your lips. She quickly covered her lips, eyes flickering from you to the sleeping beast beside you.

"How long have I been asleep?" You asked quietly, and she stepped closer to the bed, a weary gaze shifting from Mingi back to you.

"Today would've been the sixth day, Your Grace." She told you, bowing her head softly, and you nodded before letting your gaze fall back to the blue-haired male. "He hasn't left your side a single day; he refused to eat despite our worries and reminders that you would want him to eat."

You looked at her for a moment before softly pinching the male's cheek, "brat."

"Would you like me to bring you some food, Your Grace?" She asked, and you nodded, giving her a gentle smile before watching as she quietly slipped out of the room.

Then the room was shrouded in silence once more, the only sounds coming from the birds outside and the soft snores that slipped past Mingi's lips. You watched him sleep, eyes studying his face, and for the first time, you were able to really take in his beauty. Your fingers carefully trace every curve, blemish, mole, and scar that you could reach before he was stirring under your touch.

You pulled your hand away from his face when his eyes fluttered open, azure hues focusing on you the moment he woke. Your smile only spread wider as he sat up, eyes wide as if he weren't sure if this were a dream or not.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." You teased, and Mingi felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from his shoulders.

"You're awake." His voice was heavy with sleep, and it sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach, a soft heat settled across your face, giving you away. Then he was moving towards you, large hands cupping your jaw carefully, and before you could register it, his lips were on yours.

It only took seconds before you were melting into his touch, eyes fluttering closed and fingers gripping the untucked hem of his tunic. Your head tilted just enough to deepen the kiss, easily finding yourself getting lost in his taste.

The way his lips melded with your left your craving for more, fingers pawing at his shirt. Your brain quickly started to fuzz, a warmth seeping throughout your body and begging for more. Mingi sense it—smell it and a deep groan reverberated through his chest and right into your mouth causing you to whine softly.

"We can't. Not now, you need to heal." He murmurs against your lips, and you wanted to cry out in desperation, but he silenced you with another soft kiss against the corner of your lips. "Once we are legally able to marry, you can have me. All of me."

His words made your stomach twist, the feelings between you finally becoming clear, but there still stood one last obstacle. "What about the king?"

"You are not to worry about him no more," He told you firmly, his gaze hardening, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall. Then they were softening once more, "just a little bit longer, princess, then you'll be free. I promise."

Despite the anxiety that ate at every nerve in your body, you nodded, hands finding Mingi's larger one. You knew that he would keep his word, that you would soon be free of your binds. Free to be his. Fully and wholeheartedly.

And just like he promised, a week's time had passed, and there came a sharp knock at the chamber doors where you were resting. Mingi lay by your side with a book in his hand and glasses perched upon the perfect bridge of his nose.

"Come in,"

The maid on the other side opened the door before standing in the doorway to bow, "Your Grace, there is a messenger at the door looking for you and Her Grace."

You felt your heart leap, a smile spreading on your lips as you thought of what it could possibly be, and the hope that it was one thing in particular bloomed. Mingi glanced over at you as he shut his book, pulling the glasses off his face before setting both to the side. Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead, lips lingering for just a moment before he pulled away.

"Stay here, love, I'll go chat with our guest." He told you before he was clambering off the bed and following the maid out of the room.

You waited with bated breath, heart thumping heavily against your ribs, and you felt as if you could feel the second tick by. Then, finally, you could hear the heavy steps of Mingi's feet, and you sat up on the mattress, the blanket falling to your lap just as the door opened. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you watched the blue-haired male walk into the room.

Mingi allowed the door to shut before he stepped closer to you, his hand hidden behind his back. The anticipation was starting to gnaw at you, and you started to climb off the bed, but Mingi stepped in front of you, stopping your movements.

"It's arrived." He told you, pulling his hand from his back with a flourish and revealing the scroll in his hand. Your eyes widened as he placed it in your hands, the weight heavy in your palms as your thumb brushed over the expensive paper, knowing that it was from a royal.

Swallowing thickly, you slowly unraveled the scroll, eyes scanning every inch of the page, and tears brimmed in your eyes. You looked up at the dragon that stood before you with misty eyes. Mingi reached forward, cupping your face in his larger hands and crouching down to press his forehead against yours.

"You are now officially my wife." His tone was filled with nothing but love, and your heart leaped into your throat.

Tears began to drip from your damp lashes as you brought a shaky hand to wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, "and you, my husband."

Weeks upon weeks of preparations had begun, Mingi wanting everything to be perfect for you because in his eyes, you deserved nothing less. You found a gown as well as a bouquet of flowers that suited the overall theme, while Mingi made sure everything was in order for the ceremony.

People came and went in the estate, many new faces greeted you, much to Mingi's distaste, but he knew it was only for the preparation. All of the old dainty decorations and furniture had been whisked away, replaced by newer, classier furniture. The decorations a mixture of blues, turquoise and gold, all of which screamed of your soon-to-be husbands knack for picking the sparkly things—his dragon side peaking out just a bit. But you never teased—at least not too much—instead you found it endearing, something that cracked his cold shell.

"Duchess? The tailor has arrived with the veils; you are to pick one today." Your personal maid, Jaeyoung, spoke as she followed behind you through the estate.

You stopped for just a moment as you inspected the new mirror that had been hung in the hall at the top of the staircase. A soft hum vibrated from your chest as your fingers brushed the petals of the flowers that sat in the azure vase, the color reminding you of Mingi's scales.

"Hm, we shall not keep her waiting any longer." You finally turned to give the young girl a sweet smile, and the glimmer in your eyes caused a smile of her own to spread on Jaeyoung's face.

Following Jaeyoung down the stairs, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall, the feeling of eyes on your body. However, instead of feeling uneasy, you felt happiness swell in your chest, eyes flickering over to meet the deep azure eyes of the man you were to call your husband in just a few short hours.

Though you could only spare him a passing glance before both of you were whisked away for your own tasks. You were to choose the perfect veil to match your wedding gown while Mingi finished setting up the guest list for the grand banquet that was to be held tomorrow after your wedding night. At first, you hadn't been sure what Mingi had meant when he explained it, but then his vulgar words echoed in your ears, and you became flustered all over again.

'It's a celebration for the bride after we've consummated our marriage and you've been properly bred.'

"We're here, Your Grace." Jaeyoung's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked at her with wide doe eyes, as if you were a child who had just been caught sticking their hand in the cookie jar. However, if she noticed, she didn't say a word; instead, she held the door to the indoor garden open, where you found your taller waiting inside.

Yes, just a few more preparations before the ceremony tonight, and the thought left your heart racing with excitement and glee.

—

The ceremony was held in the back of the estate, in the center of the hedge canopy. It was absolutely magnificent and utterly stunning. Something that you had only seen in the pages of your fairy tale books. Your beautiful gown flowed behind you, the soft gusts of wind helping to keep the skirt splayed out as the petals from the flower girls' baskets fluttered down onto it. A mixture of different emotions passed through you, happiness, nervousness, disbelief, you name it, and you were probably feeling it for a small increment of time before it moved on to the next.

Bird chirps in song above you, and you couldn't help but look up to watch them hop along the tree branches. Your veil was obscuring your vision just enough that you had to look down to clearly see the ground beneath you.

Then you came to the entrance of the canopy, music fading, and you felt your pulse thumping against the base of your throat, all sounds dying on your tongue the moment you saw him.

There Mingi was, standing upon the stage before all the townsfolk and other guests, his blue hair styled in a way that showed his forehead while it still framed his face marvelously. His white suit was a near match to your gown, the silver embroidery done with such precision that it looked as if it had been handcrafted by the gods above. And when the wind blew, the tail of his coat flowed behind him, taking your breath along with it. He had become the embodiment of the prince charming you've read about in fairytales.

But by the gods, he looked at you as if you had just hung the stars in the very sky above you, azure eyes glowing softly the closer you approached. Nothing but love and adoration brimmed in his gaze, and had you asked him in this moment, he would say that he thought you were an angel that had been left to walk this earth.

As you neared the stage, you felt your breath catch in your throat, the intensity of his gaze knocking the air from you. One of the noblewomen who had been perched on your side of the stage helped you up the steps, careful of the white lace on your skirt, fixing it so it stayed beautifully spread behind you. Then you were meeting Mingi's gaze once more as he took your shaky hands into his, and for the first time in the nearly eight months you've spent with the dragon, you saw his eyes glassy with tears.

Even during the officiant's speech, neither of you could seem to tear your attention away from the other, smiles matching. Your fingers tightened around Mingi's larger hand as you tried your best to keep your own tears at bay, and thankfully, no one paid any mind to the two of you being lost in your own worlds.

Then, when the time came to exchange vows, Mingi was pulling the veil from your face, having had enough of the obstruction. The action pulled a soft giggle from you before you were tilting your head to meet his gaze once more, this time without the veil, and your heart skipped a beat. Seeing him with the barrier didn't hold a candle to seeing him without it, and by the looks of it, the blue-haired male was thinking the same thing.

"You are absolutely breathtaking, princess." His voice was barely above a whisper, scared that he would break entirely if he spoke any louder. You bit your tongue as you realized then and there that the name was never merely just your title to him; you were and would always remain his princess, regardless of whether that was your official title or not. He then began to recite his vows, his tears finally breaking free with the emotions he was laying before you. Releasing one of his hands, you lifted your gloved hand, cupping his jaw and brushing some of the azure tears that pooled under his eye.

By the time he had finished, you both were crying, tears of pure, unfiltered happiness flowing down your reddening cheeks. Next was your turn, and you spoke freely, never being able to write your words out, but rather speaking from your heart. Each word falling from your lips like an unspoken promise, and love laced every word.

Everyone could feel the love and adoration that was seeping from the two of you, tears of their own pooling in their eyes as they watched Mingi slip the ring onto your left hand. The dazzling diamond had an almost blue hue to it as the setting sun reflected off the gem. It was the most beautiful thing you've seen, save for the man who was standing before you. Once you had slipped his ring onto his own finger, his hand was cradling the back of your head as he brought his lips down to yours.

The kiss was oh-so-similar to the one you've shared countless times, except this time, the emotions you both couldn't put into words were conveyed as your lips melded together. Your gloved fingers grasped at the lapels of his coat, pulling him as close as you could, completely forgetting the audience that sat before you.

Only when your lungs were begging for oxygen did you part, chests heaving with heavy breaths and a smile adorning your faces despite the lingering embarrassment. The crowd around you broke out into cheers as the ceremony concluded, and they wished you the best, while others prayed for your future heirs. Their words made your body warm as you remembered what awaited you once you and Mingi were back behind the closed doors of the estate, while everyone else partied the night away.

Even the maids and other staff were dismissed for the night, ordered to take care of everyone who remained outside.

"Now…" Mingi murmurs into your ear before he sweeps you off your feet, causing you to gasp, arms instinctively wrapping around his broad shoulders. "Shall we consummate our marriage, my sweet little wife?"

Your ears turned red first, trailing up until your whole expression shifted, flustered by the blue-haired male's words. You buried your face in his neck, the soft rumble of his laughter vibrating through your body and making your stomach flutter.

The trek back to the estate passed in a blur, and before you knew it, Mingi was setting you on your feet before the door to the washroom. You glanced over at him with furrowed brows, and he just offered you a smile before opening the door with a flourish. A soft sound fell from your lips when you saw the candles that were placed methodically around the room, petals as blue as sapphires and as white as snow laid on the ground. Then the sweet scent of roses mixed with vanilla wafted around you, nearly taking your breath away.

Mingi slips past you, stepping further into the room until he stands just beside the tub that is filled, the same flower petals floating on top. You began to wonder whether this was what he had been planning so meticulously, and he wouldn't utter a word to you.

"Come here." His voice was low, quiet, almost. Not a command, but not a request, something in between. Something that has heat pooling in your core.

You take a step into the room, then another, the petals on the ground catching on the ends of your dress. Mingi holds his hand out to you, pulling your body closer to his once your smaller hand is placed in his.

His lips leave a searing kiss against your skin as he tugs your gloves off your hands, each kiss warming your body further. Once the gloves were off, he let his hands fall to your waist, leaning down until his lips were ghosting over yours. You bit back a small whine when he kissed your cheek, his fingers undoing your corset with ease.

"Mingi…" You breathed out as he undressed you, his lips trailing over all the newly exposed skin until you were standing bare before him.

"So beautiful," He breathed out, tracing his fingertips over every curve he could reach before sealing his lips over yours. The kiss was nothing like the sweet one you shared merely half an hour ago; no, this one felt as if you were trying to consume each other, and maybe you were, but neither of you cared.

Your fingers gripped his coat lapels, pushing them off his shoulders, and he pulled the sleeves off until the fabric joined yours on the ground. Then, without so much as breaking the kiss, you undo the buttons of his tunic. Before long, his clothes had joined yours, and you felt a lump form in your throat as you broke apart, eyes falling to his cock that stood proudly against his lower abdomen. You knew he wasn't going to be normal; he wasn't even human, but the sheer size made your stomach churn in both need and fear.

Mingi's fingers hooked under your chin, pulling your attention back to him, pressing his lips gently against the corner of your lips. "Don't stare, my love, it's already hard enough to restrain myself as it is."

Then he was stepping into the tub, hands on your waist, tightening before he was pulling you in with him. Goosebumps littered your skin as the warm water enveloped your body, relaxing the muscles that had been straining all day with the stress of the ceremony.

Mingi's arms wrapped around your smaller frame, pulling you back into his chest, your head falling back onto his shoulder. The washroom was quiet, save for the rippling sounds of the water and the distant sounds of the townsfolk celebrating. All while the two of you sat in the tub, soaking in each other's warmth, and Mingi's hands roamed your body, his fingers pressing into the plush skin every so often, working out the knots that had formed. He bit back a soft growl as he listened to the sounds of your sighs and quiet moans that would slip past your lips unintentionally.

"You did so good today, princess," His smooth voice sent a wave of heat throughout your body, your thighs subconsciously rubbing together. Noticing the shift of your movements, he moved his hands from your biceps down your waist before squeezing your hips, eliciting another soft moan.

"Mingi." You sighed, head lolling to the side when his lips latched onto the soft skin of your neck, placing a flurry of open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your skin. The soft scrape of his fangs had a shiver running down your spine, head already spinning. His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, squeezing the plush fat before pulling them apart.

"Just relax, sweetheart," He cooed into your neck, and you moved your hand to cup the back of his neck as his fingers moved to your bare core.

A soft moan slipped past your lips when he found your aching clit with ease, moving in slow circles. His movements weren't rushed or harsh; they were gentle, making sure you felt everything. Your fingers tightened around his neck when he moved away from your bundle of nerves to slip a finger into your tight walls.

"God, Mingi." You whined, back arching as he stretched you open, the foreign sensation had your toes curling, more so when the rough pads of his fingers found the spongy spot deep in your walls.

Chuckling softly, Mingi used his other hand to push your hips back down and kept you in place as you let out another whine. When he slipped in another finger, your eyes rolled back at the stretch, your other hand gripping his thigh to ground yourself, but when his thumb found your clit it was all pointless.

"Cum for me, pretty girl, let me feel you around my fingers." His fingers coaxed you closer to your high, heat flushing your body, making you lightheaded, and with just a few more strokes of his skilled fingers, you were toppling over the edge.

"M-Mingi." You moaned out, nails digging into Mingi's skin as stars danced across your vision.

Mingi continued to work you through your high, relishing in the sweet sounds that left your parted lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek as he pulled his fingers from your still twitching cunt.

"Mingi…" You whined, opening your eyes to look up at him, need still pooling in your blown-out pupils.

"Don't worry, love, I'm not done with you yet." Mingi's lips twitched into a smirk as he cupped your jaw, bringing his face closer to yours. Another whine fell from your lips but was quickly muffled by his as he kissed you deeply, the sharp points of his fangs nipping at your bottom lip, threatening to draw blood.

Then his hands were on your hips once more, flipping your body around so you were facing him. The speed makes your head spin, and your hand flies to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Every nerve ending in your body felt as if it were set aflame, a choked moan falling from your parted lips when you felt his heavy cock against your bare cunt.

"Bloody hell, princess," Mingi groans, fingers tightening like a vice on your body when you started rolling your hips against him. You let out another moan when the rough ridges on his cock caught your aching clit.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi was pulling your body from the now lukewarm water, a gasp tearing from your lungs at the sudden movement. Your legs wrapped around his slender waist, arms tightening around his neck.

Walking back into the main room, he dropped you onto the bed, a small huff leaving your lips as your damp body fell onto the sheets. Mingi was back on you in a matter of seconds, body slotted over yours as he brought his lips back down to yours in a heated kiss. Your brain started to go fuzzy as his lips trailed from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on the sensitive skin of your neck.

"M-Mingi." You choked out as he started to leave hot, wet, open-mouth kisses along your jugular, nipping every now and then, causing your body to shiver. His eager hands moved to the soft skin of your breasts, squeezing the mounds and pulling a pitched whine from your kiss-swollen lips.

"You smell so sweet," He growls against your marked skin before his lips pressed a firm kiss over your perk nipple, then wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently, eliciting a soft moan of his name from your lips.

Once the skin on your breast was slick with his saliva and covered in his marks, he moved down the valley of your breasts. His lips traveled down your tummy, pressing a gentle kiss to each scar, blemish, and mark that he passed, and you watched him with teary eyes. Your heart swelled as he whispered praises against your skin, telling you how much he loved you.

You gasped when he parted your legs, resting them over his shoulders so he could see your glistening cunt. He starts to press gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second. Your eyes stayed locked on him as he neared your warm center, then he pressed a kiss against your clit, causing your whole body to tremble.

"You’re dripping, princess,” He teased as he spread your folds, taking in the way your hole clenched around nothing. A gasp fell from your lips when he buried his face in your cunt, nose bumping your clit as he inhaled your scent, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. His hands wrap around your thighs to keep them in place as you start to squirm. A sharp whine falls from your lips, head falling back when he licked up your slit.

Then his lips were wrapping around your aching clit, sucking harshly, causing you to moan loudly, hand flying down, fingers grasping one of his dark blue horns. A deep groan reverberates from the back of his throat when you tug, and another moan escapes your lips, back arching off the bed and pushing your hips further into his face. Mingi was quick to move one hand from your thigh to press it flat down on your stomach, keeping you in place.

"Min— ooh god!" You cried out when he easily slips two fingers into your wet walls, curling them right against your sweet spot. The sounds of your whimpers and whines only cause the man to grin against you.

"You tasted so much sweeter than I thought, princess," He groans, lapping at your cunt and slowly thrusting his fingers into you. Your fingers tugged on his dark horn, the rough ridges digging into your skin as he buried his face in your cunt, groaning against you, eliciting a series of pants and moans.

Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears as your mouth gaped open, head falling back. Stars danced across your vision, your whole body shaking underneath Mingi’s hold. The pace of his fingers was relentless as he easily found the spongy spot inside your pussy, making you cry out his name. Your whole body tingled as all of your senses became overwhelmed, thighs trembling, threatening to close. Noticing this, Mingi took his hand from your stomach to grip one of your thighs tightly.

You weren’t able to give him a warning as you came around his fingers. He continued to suck on your clit in time with his fingers. Feeling you squeeze around his fingers as you cried out his name left Mingi groaning against you.

"M-Min—" You choked out a gasp, head falling back as he worked you through your orgasm and kissed his way back up your body. He swallowed all of your cute little whines as he kissed you deeply, tongue brushing against the back of your teeth. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the taste of yourself on his tongue, your hands falling to his shoulders.

"Still so tight, love," He chuckled darkly as your eyes rolled slightly when he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. There was no way he was going to be able to hold much longer before he lost it; each moan and whimper you let out wore at his restraint. So he sped up his fingers, his thumb pressing harsh circles against your twitching clit.

"Please!" You cried out, back arching off the bed and against his firm chest. Your mind was starting to short-circuit when he added a third finger, stretching you further. A broken whine fell from your lips, but was quickly swallowed by Mingi's eager lips, stealing all the air from your lungs.

Your hand wrapped around his neck, nails biting the skin when he added a fourth finger, the stretch borderline painful, but as he brushed over your sweet spot, stars danced across your vision. You held him close as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you, and he bit at your bottom lip, enough to draw blood this time. Then he was pulling it into his mouth, sucking on it; the mixture of pain and pleasure pushing you right over the edge with a strangled cry of his name.

"Mingi!" You cried out as he continued to work his fingers into your fluttering walls, prolonging your orgasm for a few moments. He lapped at the tears that had spilled from your eyes, whispering dirty praises against your skin before he was finally pulling his soaking digits from your twitching cunt.

You watched with hooded eyes as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of his digits. The sight was enough to make your need grow all over again, especially with the way his eyes bore into you. Once he was sure he had licked every last drop of your sweet nectar off of his fingers, he leaned back down over you, pressing his lips against yours again. You mewled at the taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood from your lip.

"Mingi…" You whined, body growing even warmer as you felt his heavy cock sitting on your lower tummy, the warmth sending goosebumps littering your skin. Your fingers tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck, lips parting with a gasp when he nipped at your jaw, "Need you… need you so bad, Mingi, please."

The sound of your pleas has the dragon growling against your skin, the last bit of his restraint wearing thin, "I need you too, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." You shook your head violently, tears splashing onto the sheets beside your head. "I trust you, Min, please."

And just like that, his restraint snapped, his hands moving to spread your thighs further and lining his ribbed cock with your leaking entrance. The feeling made your body jolt, a moan falling from your lips, and Mingi's grip on your hip tightened. Your whole body seemed like it had been set aflame.

"If it's too much, just tell me, princess." He whispered against your skin, then he was pushing into your tight heat. The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fill you. “Ah, focus on me, love,” Mingi whispered softly, coaxing your eyes open, and you looked at him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. “Good girl.”

"H-Hurts." You whine, back arching against him as more tears spill from your eyes, only to be caught by Mingi's lips, teeth nipping at your cheek, causing you to shiver.

"I know, sweetheart, just a little more, I promise." He cooed against your skin, gritting his teeth as your walls squeezed around him. Then, when he bottomed out, you gasped, eyes rolling back at the full feeling, and you swore his tip was pressing past your cervix.

"Feels good." You breathed out, tilting your head to look at him, and you felt like you were starting to go delirious. The lack of movement was starting to make your thighs shake, your need started to grow tenfold, and Mingi could tell by the way your hips started to roll against his.

A choked moan tore from your lips when he rolled his hips into yours, pleasure washing over you in waves as he hit all the right spots in one single stroke. He grabs your hips when you give him the green light to move, and stars dance across your vision as he pulls out before snapping his hips right back into yours. Your fingers dug into the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Look at you, princess.” He groaned as he continued his rough pace; it was almost animalistic, if you will. His eyes then fell down to where his cock disappeared into your sopping cunt, and he felt himself grow harder at the sight of the small bulge that formed in your lower tummy every time he pushed into you.

You cried out as he pushed down on your stomach, making you feel him even more as he fucked into you. Your body felt like it was on fire, your mind clouded with so much pleasure that you no longer had any proper words or thoughts forming. Drool spilled past the corner of your lips, trickling down your cheek, and incoherent babbles fell from your lips. The pleasure was so overbearing that your legs began to tremble around Mingi's waist, hips fighting against his hold to rut up into his thrusts. You could feel that coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter at an alarming rate with every drag of his cock in your walls.

Leaning down, Mingi's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he lapped at the spit that spilled from your kiss-swollen lips, your hand finding the back of his neck, nails biting at the skin. A loud pornographic moan tore from your lips when one of his hands slid between your bodies, pressing against your clit.

“Cum for me, love, please.” He pleaded like he was the one more desperate for your orgasm, but with a few more strokes, you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach snap, and your release gushed out all over his length.

A mixture of his name and broken moans fell from your lips as he continued his fast pace, never slowing down and throwing your body into overstimulation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling, pushing more tears out, but Mingi was quick to kiss them away.

“God.” He groaned as he felt his high nearing, and his hips snapped wildly into yours, making your vision turn white, nails digging into his neck. A mixture of a groan and a whimper fell from his lips as he completely buried himself to the hilt once more as he came, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The room was filled with heavy breathing as you came down from your high, but the soft sound of Mingi's low, feral growls against your neck made your body tingle. You brought your hand from his neck to the top of his head, fingers brushing over his horns.

All of the air was knocked out of your lungs when he lifted his head from your neck, his blown out pupils and the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was pulling his still hard cock from your weeping walls and flipping your body with ease. His hands were quick to find your hips, pulling them up until your back was arched the way he wanted.

"We're not done yet, princess. I've still gotta make sure you've been bred properly," He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tip against your twitching hole, watching as you eagerly sucked him in. You buried your face into the sheets as he pushed into you with one sharp thrust, his tip pushing right against your cervix.

Tears stained the sheets underneath you as he relentlessly bullied his cock into your abused pussy, his hands tight on your hips. Muffled cries and moans were the only sounds that emitted from your body. Your cognitive function to form words flew right out the window.

“Such a good little princess, hmm,” He cooed, leaning down until his back was pressed against your chest, his lips finding the back of your shoulder. “Taking everything, I give you like a good girl.” The mixture of his deep voice and his soft lips on your skin made your body melt, and if it wasn’t for his hold, you would have surely fallen flat on the mattress.

"Min— Mingi!" You cried out, fat tears falling from your eyes as he continued his relentless pace until your whole body was shaking. “Cumming! ‘M cumming!” Your voice cracked as he fucked you through another orgasm, but once again, his ministrations never stopped, much less slowed down.

White spots started to cloud your mind when he stood up straight once again, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. Choked sobs left your lips when your body fell into a state of overstimulation. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire.

Then his hand was moving from your hip, pressing against your sternum, and pulling your upper body off the bed. A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my babies.” Mingi licked a stripe up the back of your neck, “Such a perfect mommy.” He cooed as he nipped at your skin, feeling another orgasm of his own creeping up.

“M-Mingi…” You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.

“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He growled before unexpectedly biting down on the nape of your neck as he came. The sudden infliction of pain pulled yet another orgasm from your spent body, your walls fluttering around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Pulling away from your neck, he watched with proud eyes as his mark started to bleed, your sweet crimson blood coating his lips. You cried out when you felt something stretching you even more, and it sent your body over the edge once more, this time a weaker orgasm rushing through your bones. Mingi pressed his face into the side of your head, whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you both came down from your high.

"Mingi?" Your voice was hoarse as you spoke, head falling back onto his shoulder, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek as he hummed, "What is that?"

“It’s a knot, sweetheart. It’ll go down in a bit, but for now, try not to move too much.” He explained to you, and you let out a sigh, moving a shaky hand to the bottom of your tummy where you could still feel him pressing against your cervix.

"It's so warm," You babble mindlessly, causing Mingi to chuckle, anchoring your body to his as he kisses your shoulder.

"That just means it's taking," He murmurs against your skin, and you lift your head, brows furrowed, and he explains how different mating with a dragon descendant would be. Then once the knot wore down, he was slipping from your aching walls, laying your body on the bed before crawling over you, lips sealing yours in a sweet kiss that quickly turned heated. "And if we're lucky, you'll be with child by the end of the week."

You smiled up at him, the mere thought of carrying his child making a warmth bloom in your chest, and you pulled him down for another kiss. The two of you get lost in the heat of each other once more, marking the start of a very long night.

—

Neither you nor Mingi left your chambers until the next night, dressed lavishly as you walked into the main dining hall of the estate. Everyone greeted you warmly as you walked further into the room, arm hooked around Mingi's. To others, here it would seem like you were simply clinging to your husband as a newlywed wife might, but while that might also be the case, you were using his strong body as support. Your body is still not fully recovered from the strenuous activities that kept you and Mingi up most of the night.

"Welcome, Duke and Duchess Song." Someone announced as you and Mingi took your seats at the head of the table, Mingi's larger hand resting comfortably on your thigh.

"We wish you and the Duke nothing but luck and prosperity." A noblewoman and her young daughter walked up to you, bowing deeply before offering you a gift that your maid took to join the multitude of others.

This went on for the better half of the night, and before long, you felt a churning in your gut. Swallowing thickly, you move your hand to your stomach, and Mingi was quick to notice. Without breaking the conversation he was holding with another nobleman, he moved his hand from your thigh to cover your smaller hand that lay on your stomach.

You knew that pregnancy with a dragon descendant would be different, and Mingi warned you that if done correctly, you would be with child before the end of the week. Though as you felt something bubble in your gut, you were sure that you wouldn't need the rest of the week, and that alone brought a soft smile to your lips.

Lying your other hand over Mingi's, the cool metal of his ring chilling your skin in a comforting way, and you began to wonder how this came to be your life. Yet as you sat here, overlooking all of your people with your husband by your side, you knew that if given the chance, you'd relive this lifetime and time again.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[yallaresoinsufferablejesuschris]

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 — 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Headcanons on how I think Yunho is as a stalker.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Stalker!Yunho x Fem!Reader.

♡ — 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 250. ♡ — 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Smut — DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. ♡ — 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Noncon, sedation, breaking and entering, hiding, theft, yunho cuts y/n’s hair, soft kisses and touches.

☆ — 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @kissmatz send a ask to be added!

Yunho who’s a rather rich stalker. Being able to afford to do anything he wants, and carelessly at that.

Yunho who loves to go to your house in broad daylight, entering like it’s his own home. Because in his mind, it is.

Yunho who hides in your closet, watching you get around for bed. Waiting for that one deep breath that tells him you’re asleep.

Yunho who would steal bigger, more noticeable things than just your clothes, his target is usually your jewelry — sentimental jewelry specifically.

Yunho who loves to leave little traces of himself throughout your house, he wants you to go insane little by little.

Yunho who absolutely loves to see the panic in your eyes you’re walking alone and hearing footsteps — his footsteps follow behind you, but what happens when you turn around to look? He’s not there. It’s an entire mind game that he loves to play.

Yunho who leaves his fingerprints on your mirrors, and leaves his own pieces of clothing where he found yours. He wants his scent in your home.

Yunho who loves to lay in your bed next to you when you’re sleeping. Playing with your hair, he might even cut a few strands of it off.

Yunho who sedates your drinks or food whenever he’s “visiting” your home, just so he can have his way with you.

Yunho who caresses your sleeping face, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and nose before he leaves your house to go back home.

[sanjoongie]

ᵣₑₐd bₑₜwₑₑₙ ₜₕₑ ₗᵢₙₑₛ

🟥Pairing: Obsessed! Choi San x Target! Reader (f) 🟥Genre: dark, smut 🟥Au: modern day, non idol 🟥Inspired by the in your fantasy mv obvs! 🟥Trope: yandere 🟥Rating: 18+, Minors do not interact, all ageless/blank blocks will be blocked!!! 🟥Word Count: 6,735 (oops i may have gotten carried away) 🟥Warnings: ⚠️dubcon⚠️ read with caution/not everyone's cup of tea!, predator/prey, San uses A LOT of petnames, knife kink (just clothes cut), mentions of spying, male masturbation, needles to apply drugs, drug induced sleep, drug induced lust, love bites, breast play, fingering, degradation, forced eye contact, begging, sex with no protection, body worship, drugs influencing perception, drug brainwashing(?), somnophilia, dacryphilia, oral (m), yeah you're fucked by the end of this 🫠 🟥Summary: one day you wake up and you try nothing more than to escape your new situation. But San has other intentions and he is fully capable of breaking your walls down...and your mind... 🟥Author’s Note: @potatomountain planted this seed (the idea of this) and because of their encouragement, I finally finished it 💞 thank you for this ares, I needed it 🥰 🟥divider provided by @cursed-carmine

After finally managing to use your bobby pin to undo the padlock on your door like you were Nancy Drew incarnate, you rush down the narrow, dimly lit hallway, turning a corner and feeling absolute doom overwhelm you as you see yet another locked door. This one has as many locks as problems.

"Fuck," You curse as you slam your fist against the door. 

"Where do you think you're going, Sweetheart?"

Your captor places his palm against the seam of the door and lifts an eyebrow in question at you.

You swallow dryly. You're well aware that that charming face does not hide a charming soul; his soul is as black as they come. 

"Let me go!" You shout to his face nonetheless. 

What did you have to lose? He already kidnapped you and was keeping you hostage.

"No can do, I'm afraid, Lovely. You see, it took an awful lot to get you here. But, if you want, I can let you have the illusion of freedom. If you run down the other end of the hallway, there's a door that will lead you to my room."

"Why would I run to your room?" You demand incredulously.

Those broad shoulders shrug as if you just asked him if it was raining outside or not. 

You spin and hurl your body down the hallway, when a chest laugh follows you. Maybe if you could get into your room and turn the lock around...

"I knew you were fun!"

You turn the corner and your heart jumps to your throat, seeing the kidnapper running after you. What kind of game was he playing?

You run into the door that had been barring you from leaving your room but your captor is right behind you. You manage to open the door a crack but he punches it close. You can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“That’s not my room, Kitten,” He says into your ear from behind. 

You turn around and glare at your captor. “What do you want from me?”

His dark eyes move from the top of your head down your body. “So much.”

You shiver at his words. “I’d like to go back into my room now.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Your captor chucks your chin up. “Where’s all that fire from before?”

“Who are you?” You demand instead.

“I’m so glad you asked.” He breaks into a sunshine smile that makes you frown in response. “My name is San.”

“San--” His name comes out shaky, belaying your nerves.

San’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he moans loudly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to hear you say that.”

“Wha-why did you knock me out and kidnap me?”

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Pretty.” San reaches out and you flinch, only to find that he captures a lock of your hair and runs it through his fingers. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“In your murder house?” You spouted.

Both of San’s eyebrows raise. “Murderhouse? Oh no, that is definitely not what I intend to do with you.”

“Why kidnap me then? Can’t you just be a normal guy and ask me out on a date?” You pose.

San chuckles under his breath. “Why, when this is much more fun?” He tips his head towards the only other door in the hallway. “There’s knives behind that door. If you can get there before me, you might have a fighting chance in getting out.”

“I don’t understand,” You whisper. 

“Play with me,” San says in a sing-song voice. His pupils are blown. 

You duck under his arm and with a burst of new adrenaline, you run towards the door he had indicated. It’s barely a door, more like an opening in the wall, as if it closed, it would disappear completely. Where the hell were you???

You slip through the opening, your gaze scanning immediately for the knives San talked about. He said this wasn’t a murder house but he had knives?

You find them, beside some wax cubes and rope. You grab one of the knives, grasp so tight the wood creaks. 

You freeze when your mind catches up to what you’re seeing. The X on the wall. The four post bed. This room was a…

You hear a tiny shuk and you whip around to see San closing the opening behind him. He has a half smile on his face. “Like what you see?”

“You have a sex dungeon?” You blurt out.

Slowly, San begins to roll up his sleeves. “I’d prefer pleasure room, but you seem to be a darling of vocabulary, so who am I to correct you?”

“You wanted me to run here, didn’t you?” You hold the knife in front of you with two hands.

“I like watching your ass as you run, what can I say,” San chuckles.

You frown heavily. “This is fucked up.”

San strides towards you. The knife is pointed to the middle of his chest, between the peak of his cleavage. The deep v-neck made much more sense now. He was seducing you.

“Darling, I’m all kinds of fucked up,” San says in a husky voice. 

“Stay back,” You threaten with a slight whine in the back of your throat. 

San easily pushes the knife down, not bothering to look as it cuts through the silk of his shirt and furthers the bottom of the v, only revealing more of his body. When the knife is pointed towards the floor you drop it. 

“Do you really want me to stay back?” San wonders. 

“I don't understand what kind of game you're playing.”

“I think you know exactly what to do,” San purrs.

You drop wordlessly to the floor, knees thunking against the wood. If you played his game, would he let you finally go free? That's how men are, right? Once they have a taste, they move on.

Your gaze flickers upwards to San. “Is this what you wanted? Dreamed about fucking my mouth?”

San groans, running a hand through his hair and making it disheveled. “Fucked my fist to the thought of fucking your soft mouth while you slept. You should put something over your phone when you sleep, you know. Extremely hackable.”

“You watched me while I slept?!” You say incredulously.

San reaches to run a thumb along the bottom of your lip. “The nights that you touched yourself were the most torturous. But I told myself it would be worth the wait.”

“I'm not asleep right now,” You say with a dry mouth. 

San smirks with one corner of his lips. “No, you're not.”

You let your captor push his thumb into your mouth. You're starting to feel like maybe just sucking him off won't be the end of this. 

“Not yet,” San murmurs softly and then you feel a prick in the side of your neck.

Your vision blurs as you collapse further to the floor. San is holding a needle. The last thing you see is San’s face as you fall into a deep sleep.

You wake up, but ‘wake up’ is a generous choice of words. You’re groggy and you can barely keep your eyes open. They keep fluttering shut, with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your throat is dry and you whimper. Where were you again?

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

That cloying voice lures you out of your sleep-induced state. You desperately try to peel back your eyes. You know you are in danger, but your skull feels like it is stuffed full of cotton. You cough and lick your lips. You try to speak but some drool dribbles out the corner of your mouth instead.

The soft voice clucks their tongue and you feel something soft run down your chin. “I’ll have to adjust the dosage next time, it seems like it was a little too much for your little body.”

You need to wake up, to open your eyes, and understand what the hell is going on right now.

Except, you are having the hardest time. You let out a small whimper as you can’t seem to move either. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” The voice attempts to soothe you. It’s a male voice. You feel so sluggish, like everything is an after thought. “Go back to sleep, then we’ll have some fun.”

Everything goes black and you wake up later. You have no idea if you’ve closed your eyes for a minute or hours. But this time you can open your eyes. 

You’re on a four poster bed which feels wrong because your bed does NOT look like this. Your eyes still feel heavy, like sandbags are holding them down. You blink wearily, trying to rub your eye. But you can’t. That’s weird.

“There’s my sleeping beauty,” a voice says from the darkness. “Are you feeling better now?”

You smack your lips and try to form words. “Where…?”

The voice chuckles lowly. “Oh, you’re going to be so much fun to chase again. Lovely, you’re in my room, remember?”

My room. My room. My room? Who’s room?

You moan out loud, your body feeling like it’s too heavy to move even if you could. Was that why you couldn't rub your eyes. 

“The temptation is real,” The voice mutters and finally moves into the light.

The person--man--is blurry still to your eyes, his features muddled. “Help?” You croak.

“Oh, Pretty,” the man sighs. He moves to the side of the bed and begins to crawl towards you. 

Slowly, but surely, his image clears in your sight. 

Your heart screeches to a halt, your breathing gets quicker and you let out a whine.

“Oh, you’re so much fun,” Your kidnapper coos, running the back of his finger down your face. “Your reactions are priceless.”

“Go!” You whimper. 

“No no, Sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere,” San shakes his head. “You’re mine now.”

His hands hover over your body, like he wants to touch you but is resisting. He rubs his lips together. “I have too much fun planned for us. You just need to wake up a bit more.”

San gently taps the side of your face. You whine again. What did he want to do to you? More chasing, is that what he said?

“Come on, lovely, don’t you want to play with me?” San murmurs. 

You shake your head desperately, when in reality, all you can manage is a pathetic flop to one side. 

“Ah, back to sleep then. We’ll play when you’re better.”

When next you are conscious, you’re back in the room that San locked you in originally. Or at least, you think you are. There’s a cot, a toilet and a slot where your food comes through the bottom of the door. 

This time you are able to sit up, but you still feel a little dizzy, but at least not completely taken out. “The fuck?” You groan, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eye. 

“Ready to play?” San’s voice comes out through a P.A system.

You pick up your pillow and throw it at the camera in the corner of the room. “Fuck you,” you say weakly.

“There’s my girl,” San chuckles. “Let’s play.”

You hear the door unlock and your blood runs cold. You hold yourself in place, heart breathing wildly. When you don’t move, San speaks again.

“You don’t want to know what happens to sleeping beauties when they don’t play my games,” his voice is flat. 

You tentatively get to your feet, making your way to the door that you had so desperately unlocked earlier. Now all you wanted was to lock yourself in. You brace yourself against the door, it’s cool metal a relief against your head. 

“If I play, will you let me go?” You whisper desperately.

“Nooo~” San says in a sing-song voice. “But I promise you we’ll have some fun. Totally worth it.”

“For you,” You grumble.

San lets out a breathy, high-pitched giggle. It sends a shiver down your spine. “You’ll enjoy yourself, you’ll see.”

You let yourself out and your breath catches hold. The hallway is dark except for random red lights down the hallway. You can see where San’s door is and where the exit is. But there’s another hallway. Was that there before?

“Tick tock, tick tock,” San sings through the P.A. 

You start to jog down the hallway that you have no idea where it leads. You hear a quiet shck and realize it’s one of those hidden doors, the same that led to San’s pleasure room. You shiver lightly. 

In no time at all, your breathing is erratic and you are sweating. You had found some dead ends, almost like there was a maze here, so you had been backtracking and starting to get weirded out. It almost seemed like the more you ran, or the harder your heart beat, the more wet between the legs you got. In fact, your nipples were hard pebbles now.

You collapse lightly against a wall, panting. “What have you done to me?”

“Me?”

You scream and jump, falling on your ass. When had San gotten into the maze with you? How long had he been following you? 

“San!” You gasp.

San’s eyes roll into the back of his head again. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say my name.”

“What did you do!” You accuse your kidnapper again.

San smiles to himself, looking quite pleased. “It’s a concoction of my own making. Why? Are you feeling something?”

“You fucking bastard,” You curse, struggling to get up. 

You falter, falling back again and this time you give up. What was the point? The game wasn’t in your favor.

Except San didn’t like that.

“Come on, Sweetheart, you can do better than that!” He encourages you. “Fight it. Fight me.” 

When you simply remain on the ground in an attempt to calm your heart and catch your breath, he goes back to negotiating. “If you can make it to the centre before I catch you, I’ll give you the antidote."

Your head snaps up. “You will?”

San smirks. “Of course. I’m a man of my word.” He offers you a hand up, but you slap it away. He laughs in amusement. “There she is.”

You groan as you get to your feet, sending a fleeting glance behind you. San is standing there with his hands in his pockets, like he’s waiting for a coffee to be made instead of you running like the final girl in a horror film.

You try to commit to memory every turn you take but it easily becomes a tumble of mistakes in your head, the damn drug San had injected into you still making you feel a little dumb. But the process of elimination is still a surefire method. 

So, when you end up in the centre of the maze, confirmed by the lush red chaise lounge in the middle and the dark walls, you collapse on your hands and knees. Once your mind is free of buzzing with figuring out the maze, your body is simply consumed by the drug. You feel a whine building in the back of your throat. 

“My my, look at you, fighting through the drug to make it to the centre of the maze.” San strolled into the centre, hands still in his pockets, like he was out on a walk in his neighbourhood. The casualness pissed you off.

“You said… you’d give me… the antidote…” You pant. 

“Mmm, yes, I did, didn’t I?” San hums, moving closer to you.

“Stay away from me!” You shout.

“But sweetheart, how am I supposed to give you the antidote?’ San cocks his head curiously. 

“Throw it over,” You grit out between your teeth.

Your pussy was throbbing, your nipples hurt how tight they were and you were starting to look at San in a different light. Obviously his pretty packaging distracted from his dark soul, but all your brain could focus on was the deep v in his shirt. How your hands are begging to run over that supple skin--you shook your head desperately. 

“I’m afraid I have to administer this personally, my lovely obsession,” San shakes his head almost woefully. 

His hand touches your shoulder, heat emanating from his palm. You gasp and jerk out of it, turning to your back. “Don’t touch me,” You command.

San’s sharp eyes wander over the animated features of your face adoringly. “You sure you don’t want me to touch you? Everywhere?” He purrs. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you can’t help but pout. “Why do you have to say something like that?”

“Because I want to touch you in all your hidden places, pretty. I’ve been wanting to since the moment I first saw you. And now, you feel that way as well, don’t you?” A small, satisfied smirk pulls at one of the corners of San’s lips. 

“You promised. You said you’d give me an antidote, San,” You whisper.

“Don’t you get it, kitten?” San’s smirk becomes almost evil. “I am the antidote. The only way to cure the pretty poison is by fucking you.”

You should have known better. The game was always rigged for San to win. He made sure it was so. And he obviously wanted you as the prize. That’s why you were here in the first place.

But now you were trapped. 

San leans in to whisper into your ear. “I know how wet you are. I know how much you need something inside of you. I want you to fight me. I want you to tell me no. What will you do?”

You let out a low moan. Every word coming from those sinful lips only makes something tighten inside of you even more. You feel like you are going to burn into ashes if you don't give into the wants and desires of your body. But you don’t want to give into San, no matter the temptation. It feels… wrong.

San licks the shell of your ear and then places a wet but chaste kiss on your pulse. “Come on, sweetheart, play with me.”

You swallow loudly but push against his shoulder. “Do--don't,” You stutter.

“Don't what? Make you wetter?” He purrs.

You shake your head. “I'm not. Not for you.”

“No, surely not,” San mockingly agrees with you. “You would never get heated up over a strange man chasing you, hmm?”

His lips and teeth find your collarbone and he sucks a lovebite there. The bloom of purple and pain causes your hand to creep up his arm. Your fingernails dig into the skin of his bicep. 

“Stop touching me,” You snarl, half-hearted by the way you're clenching your thighs.

San’s lips trail over your chest, following the rise and fall of your cleavage. “You love your titties being teased, don't you, pretty? Do you know how many nights I've watched you play with these to get yourself wet so you could grind out an orgasm quickly to fall asleep to?”

You freeze. “You're a goddamn pervert.”

San’s eyerolls roll slowly upwards to meet your gaze. “Not as much as you are. You don't think I haven't heard you whimpering no. Watch you shake your head as you pinch your nipples. Discovering that my new obsession matches my freak?”

“No, that's not true,” You deny. You turn and attempt to crawl towards the chaise lounge, away from the facts San is repeating back to you.

“My twisted little kitten,” San teases you, crawling like a beast himself after you. He uses the weight of his body against you, lowering his hips and pinning you in place.

“Let me go,” You whimper. San’s words are winding you up, sucking you in, churning your insides even more.

San kisses your shoulder and up your neck, causing you to shiver when his heated, wet lips touch your sensitive skin. “I'm going to make you come so hard, lovely. You're not going to know up from down, but you will know who's giving it to you.”

You shake your head adamantly as San’s hand skims your side, playing with the underwire of your bra. “This is madness. You're crazy.”

San hums in agreement. You can feel his happy smile against your skin. “Crazy for you, perhaps.”

That's when your body betrays you even more. You arch your back, anticipating San’s fingers to sneak under your bra but he stops before the pads of his fingers touch your underboob.

“What's this, lovely?” He teases you. “Your body is saying yes but your mouth is saying no. What is it, then?”

Your breathing is erratic and your pussy is tingling with desire. You need San to give you something more than these tempting words and sneaky touches. 

“I don't--I don't want you,” You spit out.

San moans at your denial and finally his hand pushes your bra up to your neck and his fingers cup your breast, but he does not touch your nipple. You feel him tilt his hips, his hard-on apparently against your ass. “Your denial is so sweet.”

You're fighting a losing battle. You know you are. You've known since the minute San slammed his hand on the locked door when you thought you had escaped. But that didn't stop you from fighting. It never would. You wanted to rage but you also wanted San to fuck you. Your body practically demanded it. It was time to switch tactics.

“How would you know how sweet it is?” You mock San. “You've never touched me. You've never tasted me. You've only seen me.”

“Careful, sweetheart,” San warns. 

You wrap your arm behind you, gripping San's neck and pull him closer. “You'll never know how I taste.”

“Never?” San growls, doubling up on the way he’s grinding into you. “Do you want to never come?”

“What's it going to be, San?” You respond with your own question. “Will I never come or will I come so hard I won't know up from down?”

San, clearly frustrated, laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “You are everything I wanted you to be.”

“Then touch me,” You whisper. It feels like a betrayal to yourself. But when San turns you on your back, your pussy jumps as San’s hand sneaks down the front of your shorts, and you can’t find yourself caring much. 

You hiss as San’s fingers run through your wet slit. He gathers plenty on the pads of his fingers and then he uses them to rub your clit. He’s slow, absorbing every moment with his intelligent eyes. He’s watching your every gasp, the way your lips part and lick your lips, he sees when your hips jerk and when your legs spread wider. He’s a sponge the way he learns every one of your ticks as he explores your lower half. 

“That’s it, pretty,” San coos. “Help me find all your secrets. I’ll make you feel so good.”

You know it’s the drug. It has to be the drug. You know you wouldn’t really prefer this. But as you swallow a whimper down your throat and tilt your hips towards the press of his fingers, you sigh in relief. He’s finally touching you. You’re finally going to get what your body is begging for. 

“You’re so wound up for me, aren’t you?” San continues to coo at you. “You keep denying me but you need this, don’t you? You need me to help release your build-up.”

“Sa-san,” You gasp, as you feel pleasure radiate from your clit. 

“Gonna come from my fingers touching you? The strange man that’s drugged you and chased you and now you’re going to come?”

You shudder at his words. “Stop,” You whine.

A slow smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “I feel how wet you are for me. For my words. For my fingers. You like it, kitten. You love it.”

You can’t argue with him, not because you don’t want to fight him, but because he’s already brought you to an orgasm. Your mouth stretches out into a silent ‘o’ and your legs shake as he forces your first orgasm from your body. 

You feel shame coat yourself immediately, despite your mid comedown. And yet you feel empty. You just found the orgasm you were searching for but it doesn’t feel like enough. You need more. “What have you done to me?” You demand.

San giggles. “I told you I was the antidote.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, desperate and feeling even more needier than before. “Give it to me.”

San raises an eyebrow at you, barely contained glee at your pleas. “Give you what?”

“Whatever it is, San, please!” You whine loudly. 

San shakes his head and pulls away from you easily. “I need to hear exactly what you want.”

Your hand clutches his slacks as he stands up, wiping off his fingers on his thighs. “Please!”

San cocks his head. “Hmm? Do I hear something?”

Your shorts are down your legs and your shirt is pushed up to your chin. You angrily rip your offending clothing off. You’re hot and needy and you know exactly what San wants from you. “San, please!” There’s still a small part of you that refuses to do this. He’s the one that captured you, shouldn’t he just be taking what he wants? Your pussy throbs at the thought. 

“Please, what?” San persists. 

“I need you,” You try.

San shakes his head. “You’re going to have to do better than that, lovely.”

You swallow your pride and some spit but your lips are having a hard time forming the words. “I need you inside of me.”

San turns his head slightly, the side profile slapping you in the face. His nose. His lips. His dimples that are present now. “You can do it,” he encourages.

“I need your cock inside of me,” You whisper. 

“Sorry?” San cups his hand to his ear. “I didn’t quite hear that.”

“Please fuck me, San, I can’t do this anymore. My nipples hurt and my clit is swollen and my pussy needs to be swallowing your cock, please please please, fuck me. Fuck me good. Fuck me hard. Bend me in half, I need it.” The words flow past your lips before you can realize in horror everything that you’re saying. Jesus, did he need all that detail?

“All you had to do was ask,” San coyly jokes and you moan loudly at his teasing.

Easily, the man scoops you up with one arm and half-drags your body until you’re near the chaise lounge. San eases his body down on the furniture and then folds his arms behind his head. 

“There you go,” San smirks.

You can’t help but shake a little in frustration. “You’re going to make me do it? You’re not going to take it?”

San’s eyes flash with desire. “You have no idea. But I need you to take me. I need you to show me how much you want me. It’s undeniable that I want you. Look at the lengths I’ve gone. But I need you to show me how much you need me. It’s my time to be desired.”

“This is ridiculous,” You grumble under your breath as you straddle his hips nonetheless.

San’s not berating you, no, instead, he’s focused on the way his hands smooth up your thighs and hug your hips. His eyes slowly move upwards, scanning your now naked upper body. And then he meets your eyes. “Oh, sweetheart,” he exhales as if you already took him inside of you.

“And can you stop with the endearments?” You huff. “You’re my kidnapper and I’m your victim. This is beyond ridiculous.”

San clutches his well endowed chest. “Bullet to my heart, Babe.” But those eyes, they’re obsidian chips. They gleam with something that makes you shiver. You’re not sure if it’s the lust or the venom there.

Your eyes break his gaze and you reach for the button and zipper of his slacks. His hand snaps upwards, gripping your chin quite forcefully. “I want you to look at me while you fuck me, kitten. The next time you break my gaze, I’m locking you back in your room and letting you rot with the drug zooming in your system.”

You swallow hard as you imagine yourself panting and masturbating, knowing full well you are unable to fix yourself. By that point you’d be a mindless animal humping San, just when you thought it was bad no. Better to play by his rules. Keep him happy. 

“Yes, San,” You say in a quiet tone, hoping your usage of his name would smooth things over. 

You could literally feel his cock jump against the side of your hand as you ran his zipper downwards. It had worked, at least. 

The shame of this all was coursing through your veins. The chase, the drugs, the fact that San had already brought you to orgasm. But as his dick throbs as you pull his pants down, with the help of San raising his hips, almost unseating you from the chaise lounge, you find yourself licking your lips. 

San smirks. “Eager and ashamed, hmmm lovely?”

“Shut up,” You snap weakly.

“Aw, cute,” San coos mockingly at you again. “You’re trying so hard not to enjoy this, aren’t you?” San yanks your head downwards so he can whisper against your cheek. “But you still remember how it feels to get off on my fingers, don’t you, pretty?”

You cry out in frustration and wrap your hand around the base of San. Angry at yourself, and angry at San, you angle the tip of his cock towards your very-wet lower lips, and push yourself down on him. The wave of relief that washes through you is quickly battled by the logic that’s still pinging somewhere in your brain. This is so wrong. But it feels so right.

“That’s it, sweetheart, take all of me in that cute little pussy of yours.” San’s eyes are drilling into yours. All your microexpressions are only making him harder. “All of my cock is all yours.”

You get goosebumps at his words. “What are you even talking about?” You mumble, nudging your hips forward and gasping as his cock shifts inside of you. You whine as you grind against his body, the feel of his cock stretching your walls finally feeling right.

“My body, my heart, my soul, it’s all yours, kitten. I’ve been waiting for you to claim what’s yours. You already have it, you just didn’t know it. But now you do.”

You frown down at the psychopath that’s currently between your legs. He’s clearly fucked up in the head if he thinks that makes any sense. In fact, it is what he thinks is true, you can see it in the pure heart eyes he has for you. Not that it’s love, he can’t feel that. It’s his obsession with you and it coming to fruition. He’s fucking crazy. Crazy for you, if you remember what he said correctly. 

You bite down on your lip, because you do not want to let him know how well he feels inside of you. His thick cock doing its job well. Not that that matters, because he’s inside of you, he can feel how you react to him. 

San reaches up with his other hand, cupping your breast, and flicking a thumb over your nipple, just the way you like it. Your nipple hardens at his touch immediately, and San grins triumphantly. 

“See, aren’t you enjoying yourself? Didn’t I say you would? Fuck, you’re squeezing me like a vise, lovely. You’re so wet and warm and eager to be full of my cock, aren’t you?” San’s eyes are nearly feverish-bright with his ramblings. He is purely getting off on you being a slut for his body. 

“I need the antidote," You rasp as you continue to sway your body in order for his cock to get some more movement inside of you. “That’s all this is.”

San keeps that knowing-secret smile on his face as you ride him. It’s lovely the way he stretches you out, the way you keep the pace that you want. San continues to absent-mindedly play with your nipple, keeping it tight and puckered. But that other hand stays firmly on your jaw, so that you have no choice but to keep the eye contact that he so desperately desires. 

You start to frown when you realize that you’re feeling amazing but it’s not enough. You adjust so you can move to get your feet under you and bounce better against San. You quicken the pace and it makes San moan loudly. You embarrassingly clench down around him when he makes the noise but luckily he doesn’t call you out on it. 

You need more balance, so you place a hand on his stomach, but your fingers find the heat of his smooth skin and you move your hand upwards, feeling his muscles tense and release under your touch.

San looks almost crazed with your hands on him. You can tell he isn’t angry about you touching him but in nirvana due to it, because he says, “Fuck, yes, touch me all over, sweetheart.”

You become mesmerized with his reactions. His chest attracts you just like it did earlier. Being able to run your hands over it was just as you had anticipated and more. He reacts so well for you as well, biting down on his lip, rolling his eyes into the back of his head, groaning as if your touch is ecstatic for him. 

You shake your head a little and focus on bouncing on San’s cock so you can get this damn drug out of your system. You do your best, you really do, but the pace doesn’t seem to match what you need to cum. By now, you’re sweating and whining in orgasm denial.

“San,” you whimper. 

“Wh-what’s wrong, pretty?” The hand that had been clenching your jaw slides along the side of your face fondly. “You gonna cum?”

Frustrating tears run down the balls of your cheeks. It’s all you want, to cum, despite the circumstances. But you just can’t seem to do it. 

“Please fuck me, San. I can’t do it myself,” You admit. 

“You are so fucking beautiful right now, do you know that?” San sits up, chest to chest now. “Crying because you can’t come on my cock. So desperate for your orgasm from my cock. Want me to help you, lovely? Just ask me, like before. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

The tears stream down, this time in relief. San is going to help you and all you have to do is ask for it. You swallow down your pride, or rather the pieces left of it, and let your lust cloud your head. There’s no need to fight it any longer. All you have to do is accept it and you’ll get all you want, right? And you have the keys to the kingdom right between your legs.

“Lay me on my back, hold me legs apart, and fuck me hard, San, please,” You hiccup. 

“Of course, Kitten, anything for my baby’s pleasure, hmmm? I’ll make you cum around my cock, pretty as you please. Just keep crying those tears for me.”

Despite all the cute cooing, San presses a hand to the small of your back, and with nary a grunt, spins you around and lays you back against the chaise lounge, just like you asked. You sniffle, realizing that he managed to not slip out of you while doing that. 

“I’m so full, Sannie,” You whimper some more.

San smiles for you beautifully, his dimples shining like a dark angel above you. “How does it make you feel, sweetheart?”

“Safe,” You say and realize with shock, that that’s the truth. 

San is above you, bracing himself with his arms above you, and you feel safe. You have no idea when the switch happened. The barest of thoughts was that it was the drugs again but it disappears like smoke on the wind. San is your safe place. San keeps you locked and full in here, doesn’t he? Hasn’t he taken care of you this entire time? 

“There’s my girl,” San murmurs softly and you melt into his touch. “Let’s get you screaming my name next.”

San puts a firm hand on each of your thighs, simultaneously holding you down and spreading your legs to max capacity. Then he proceeds to drill into your pussy like his life depends on making you come. You do your best to keep eye contact with San but it’s hard when your eyes want to roll into the back of your head from the pleasure. 

“San,” You cry out, hands flailing, needing something to hold onto. 

His hand cups your throat, not choking you but holding you in place, because the brutal pace of his hips is making you move. One hand wraps around his wrist and the other digs your nails into his bulging bicep. 

“Tell me you hate my cock fucking your pussy so good,” San rumbles. “Tell me that you’d rather be anywhere else other than beneath me.”

You moan loudly, earning another triumphant grin from San. “I fucking hate your cock fucking my pussy so good. I’d rather be anywhere else other than under you.”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

It’s a simple yet dirty phrase, but it’s like the key to the lock of your orgasm. It bursts through you and you scream San’s name. Finally, finally, your body feels relief and the drive to cum floats away as you sail through your orgasm. Your chest heaves and you whine as the ecstasy soaring through you is everything you needed and more. 

“My turn.”

Your body arches as San grinds a thumb on your clit, sending you through overstimulation. You squirm and cry out, your stomach dipping as San pushes you through another orgasm as he fucks through his own. He stills inside of you and all you can see is the bottom of his jaw, neck straining, as he empties out inside of you. Then his hips move, your kidnapper slowly sucks as much joy from your body as he can. 

You feel like you’ll burst if he fucks you anymore. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you manage to yank him down on top of you. “Thank you,” you say with a raspy voice. 

“This is only the beginning, Kitten,” San whispers against your neck, lips grazing your skin in slow kisses. 

You feel that sentence from the tip of your head to the bottom of your toes. Your entire body flushes with desire. “Okay, Sannie,” you manage to say tiredly as you slowly fall into a deep slumber, this one natural. 

You wake up to the sound of wet. Your brain is slow to grasp what’s happening until you choke slightly. You feel drool running down the corners of your lips. Something smooth is running over your tongue. 

You wake in a cold sweat as your eyes open and San is fucking your mouth.

“Welcome to the world of the living, sleeping beauty,” San teases.

His pelvis muscles tense as he continues to slowly but surely fuck your mouth. His adonis belt would have made your mouth water if you weren’t already drooling. His body truly was a gift. And he said it was yours.

You make noises, frowning, until San pulls out his cock to allow you to speak. “Problems?”

You shake your head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

San chuckles under his breath. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You sit up and you’re surprised to see you’re back in San’s… pleasure room. “You’re not going to lock me up anymore?” You look around but there is nothing binding you to the bed either.

San tips his head back and laughs a loud, belly laugh. “Why would I do that? Do you plan on going anywhere?”

You cock your head. “Of course not. Why would I leave my safe space?”

San cups your face and runs his thumb along your bottom lip, pushing his precum back into your mouth. “Of course, what was I thinking, saying a silly thing like that.”

[wicked-disposition]

Why Do You Love ? — K.HJ

Pairing: Alpha Hongjoong x Omega reader

Synopsis: You had never ventured outside of your small town. Your mother had condemned you to omega only schools, wanting to shield you from the dangers of the world especially alphas. But if you were serious about becoming a nurse, you knew you'd have to learn to be around them at some point and going away to university was the first step.

Warnings: [DEAD DOVE] stockholm syndrome, Mc is very innocent & sheltered, kidnapping, non-con elements, power imbalance, non-con, HJ is possessive and cunning, rough sex, loss of virginity, dirty talk, restraints, dacryphilia, breeding, shibari, non-con drug use, blood, knotting, non-con filming, knife play, take a shot every time you read the word slick, extreme dub-con, non-con picture taking, breeding, non-con somno, pregnancy, pussy spanking, degradation, predator/prey dynamics, manipulation of pheromones, biting, marking.

Authors note: If you couldn’t tell already from the warnings, this story includes a lot of non-con, so if that or any of the other warnings make you uncomfortable, DO NOT. I REPEAT, DO NOT BOTHER WITH READING THIS STORY! If you choose to disregard these warnings and read the story anyway, only to leave a rude comment, you will be blocked. So don’t bother with commenting. Aside from that, I hope you all enjoy (:

PRESENT.

Red.

That’s all you can see before your eyes. Dots of red in the darkness of the room. Speckles of them cloud your vision. At first, you used to only see one of them. One tiny dot. You would keep your eyes trained on it in order to ground yourself. Making yourself calm down by focusing on the only spot of color in the pitch black room. It flickered on and off every few seconds. You would time it along with your blinking. A good few weeks passed before you realized what that red symbolized.

A camera. Installed right in the corner of the ceiling. What you started to find a small sliver of familiarity in, now became something you felt threatened by. That red dot haunted your every nightmare, making you scared of every one of your own moves, afraid of who might be watching. Why would they be watching? But most importantly—why wouldn’t they help?

You’ve been too afraid to look back at that red dot for a long time now. Ever since you realized what it symbolized, you’ve felt too ashamed of what the lens had witnessed. Your body, naked and displayed for viewing; your cries, loud and desperate, mostly pleading for help, but sometimes—to your utter shame—begging for pleasure as well. You don't like knowing that you’re being recorded. In the beginning it made you feel hopeful. Hopeful that someone will maybe see and come rescue you. But the more time that passed, the more your hope turned into helplessness. No one was coming for you. You were to spend the rest of your days here. Or, until the one who held you decided he had had enough of you.

But by the way things were going, that seemed like a day you would never get to see. The room you started to find familiarity in was filled with everything that was sure to muddle your brain. Pheromones; full of dominance, want and need. Power; guaranteed to make you submit, roll over and present. Sweet amber;that made your eyes roll back and your tongue loll out in pure desire.

Alpha.

An alpha that seemed more than adamant on taking everything from you until he left you with absolutely nothing. Your pride, your self control, your innocence. All of it had been stripped away from you the moment you set foot inside of this room. Or better said, the moment you got strapped to the bed in the center of the room. You don't know much about what’s happening or where you are, but if there is one thing you knew for certain, it was that the alpha that took you would always take care of you. That’s what he always says at least.

“Don’t fret, little omega. You’re safe right here with me.”

At first, the comments would make every inch of your skin bristle. How could you possibly be safe at the hands of someone so cruel? Someone who tortures and takes whatever he wants from you; who makes you cry and sob and beg to be let go of. But over time, you learned to find comfort in the same touch that tainted you. The hand that hit you would always caress you gently when it was all over. The mouth that bit you and spit cruel words would kiss your sore body from head to toe almost as if those lips had healing powers. And perhaps, in the sick and twisted reality of your mind, they did.

The knife that was held against your neck, as you were forced to arch your body until it faced the tiny red dot in the corner of the room, started to feel dull against your skin when small praises were whispered in your ear along with it.

“Such a good puppy. The prettiest omega. Sitting so still for me. I really taught you well.”

And that is one thing he did. Taught you how to behave. Showing you all the ways of surviving in this small little room, abiding by his rules and orders. All you needed to do was be good; that’s it. Just be the best omega anyone could possibly dream of—an obedient little thing, with big eyes only for your alpha, always at his beck and call with your arms and legs wide open, and holes on display at all times. Your alpha didn’t ask too much of you. And if that meant you would get to survive and evade your punishments as much as possible, well, that’s something you were willing to do.

As someone who’s stayed as far away from alphas as you could all your life, the sheer power and control that had taken over your body was overwhelming for you. You knew how small and meek of an omega you were in comparison;you could never fight against the big strong alpha holding you captive. You were more than aware of how easy it would be for him to put you in your place with a simple tilt of his head and a hint of a growl. But that still didn’t stop you from trying to fight back. At least in the beginning.

You would scream, cry and beg to be let go of until your throat closed up and your voice turned raspy. Your face used to be constantly sticky with tears and your head would always be pounding from all your crying. You would over exhaust yourself to the point of passing out, which is usually when the alpha would swoop in and you would find the last remainder of power in you to fight back. But your nails were too blunt to scratch him, your hands were too weak to push him away, and your teeth were not sharp enough to bite him until they could break skin. You were rendered completely helpless with one single pinch to your scent gland on the side of your neck and a snarled “Keep still”. That’s all it took.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re really pushing my hand, sweetheart.”

How could you ever escape the hell you had been so bluntly thrust into?

PAST.

All omega schools were very common. Your mother made sure to keep you as sheltered from alphas as she possibly could since you were born. Her daughter was too innocent, too pure, to be anywhere near the grabby hands of selfish alphas that lurked around for cute little omegas like you.

College, on the other hand, was a totally different story. Although you grew up surrounded by omegas only, if you wanted to study to become a nurse, you couldn’t avoid alphas anymore. Your mother was extremely upset when she found out, but she couldn’t keep you at home under her care forever. You wanted to be on your own. So, reluctantly, she let you leave to go study in the big city.

Which is where you finally became aware of everything your mother had kept you away from all of your life. Alphas. So many of them. Everywhere. Surrounding you from all ends, with pointed stares and strong scents, that filled your nostrils and traveled all the way through your lungs, intoxicating you. On your first day of college, you got so overwhelmed that you hid and locked yourself in a bathroom stall, where you cried your little heart out throughout the entirety of the first class you were supposed to be attending.

That’s also where you made your first friend. Jung Wooyoung. A cheerful and bubbly omega that had heard your sniffles and smelled your distress from outside the bathroom stall, and somehow coaxed you into coming out of there after offering his hand through the gap underneath the door, which you held for a long twenty minutes before daring to come out. And ever since that day, Wooyoung had kept you safe at his side at all times, never leaving you alone around any alphas for even just a second.

They were still everywhere around you though. Looking at you as if they wanted to eat you whole. Chests puffing out whenever you would pass them by, growling at each other, almost as if it was a competition of who could sway you first. But you weren't interested in any of them. You just wanted to focus on studying and keeping to your small group of friends.

In your first week, Wooyung introduced you to all of his friends that had welcomed you in immediately. You were a small group, consisting of two other omegas, Jihyo and Yeosang, and a beta named Jongho, but you were more than happy to have friends you could feel safe around.

You were more than content with how things were going so far into your first semester. Your mother, although still worried, became slightly more relieved whenever you would call and tell her that things were going well. Your anxiety only started to pick up again when your small group suddenly expanded with a new addition.

An alpha that Wooyoung met in his biology lab.

“I know how you feel about alphas, but I promise you, he’s the nicest person ever! You know I would never bring anyone around you unless I was certain they were completely harmless.”

Your number one flaw has always been being too trusting.

So, reluctantly, you agreed to meet him. You waited with big eyes and parted lips, hands trembling where they clutched underneath the table between your thighs, nose twitching as you sniffed the air around. And that’s when you felt it.

Sweet amber. So potent that you felt your head float somewhere off your shoulders and you had to hold your breath in order to ground yourself. And when you were finally able to get past the sudden haziness, your eyes met a pair of dark brown ones, staring pointedly at you. Like a prey being hunted. That’s when the alpha smiled, and you felt all the air leave your lungs.

“This is Hongjoong!”

PRESENT.

Your skin had grown accustomed to handling most things over the past few months, but rope was still something that felt too harsh for you. It’s hard and bristled and it turnt your skin red in most places if you moved around too much—which more often than not, you did. But it doesn’t take more than a stinging slap to your inner thigh to get you to stop huffing and squirming.

“Be good.”

Being good is something you have learned to master over time. And of course you had. It’s so easy for you to do as you’re told—you allowed yourself to be conditioned into the most perfect little omega. Obedient to your alpha’s every single order.

“Sit like this. Move your arm like that. Stop squirming so we can finish quicker. Very good. Give alpha a kiss.”

Tactile loops of long rope hold you in place, completely unable to move. At first, the feeling of helplessness would terrify you, but over time, you've learned to curiously admire the ways in which you’d get tied up. You could not move an inch even if you tried to, but that didn’t mean the knots were constricting. They felt oddly delicate actually.

This seemed to be the alpha’s favorite way of tying you. With your hands in front of you, a string of rope looped around your torso and over your arms, and your wrists held together tightly between your legs. You felt the strain of the position in your muscles when the alpha would make you arch your back so that your calves could touch the backs of your thighs, tying the two parts of your legs together. Your toes wiggled impatiently in the air, waiting for the next move. You were on complete display like this, with your front pressed into the mattress and your ass raised high in the air.

“Beautiful.” The alpha murmurs from behind you, running the palm of his hand over the swell of your ass, giving it a light squeeze, which made the fat jiggle. “Sit just like that for me.”

You turn your head to the side, cheek squished into the sheets, lips pouted outwards beautifully. It’s a little hard for you to breathe, but you don't make a single sound. You knew that if you behaved well this would be over quickly. You just had to sit pretty and be patient until the alpha was done doing whatever he wanted.

Today it looks to be pictures. You can see from the corner of your eye the flash of the camera going off as a picture is taken from above, most likely capturing the full display of your body. You shut your eyes and exhale shakily when a warm palm presses down on your spine, making your body arch even more, something that is sure to leave you feeling sore for the next couple of hours.

Pictures is something you can deal with easily. It’s what you dread the least. You just had to sit still for a few minutes and then you usually got to be on your own for the rest of the day. If you were exceptionally well behaved, you’d also be awarded candy, which is something you’ve been striving really hard for lately. The alpha gives you green apple lollipops, which are your favorite. They remind you of home, where you wish you could be instead. But the lollipops will do for now.

You think you’re doing well. Only whining once when your arms start to go a little numb, but you’re quickly shushed and offered a light nip to your left ass cheek, which promptly quiets you down. You’ve thought about asking what this was for before. Why are pictures being taken of your body? Does the alpha look at them afterwards? Are they only for him? Does he show them to other people? Could others know about you and where you are? 

But the thought of asking is gone as soon as it comes, because you know you most likely won’t get an answer. The alpha is not very talkative, unless it’s to tell you what to do, to scold you for misbehaving, or to praise you for being good. You’d much rather prefer the latter. The only other time in which he seems to like talking, is when he’s saying cruel words that make your cheeks burn up in an instant. Things such as—

“Look at that pretty little pussy.”

You squeal, face pressing into the mattress, which muffles your sounds as rough fingers spread your ass cheeks apart, exposing both of your holes. You know you have no chance of resisting when the room starts to get pumped full of pheromones that make you submit in an instant, sweet amber travels through your lungs, making your tummy quiver and causes a sad dollop of wetness to gush right out of your cunt. 

You whimper pathetically.

“Eager little omega. In need of a treat, aren’t you?”

You try to shake your head, but the position won’t allow you to. Your thighs can’t squeeze together either, even though you squirm to do so. The ropes hold you in place, firmly squeezing where they’re supposed to, rendering you immobile. You can do nothing but exhale shakily as you try not to focus on the fingers parting your folds, collecting the slick that had dribbled out.

“Alpha’s got you.”

When two fingers slide inside of you with ease, all you can think about is that this is not the kind of treat you had been looking forward to. You were craving a lollipop, not fingers shoved up your cunt, but that’s not really something you can complain about. So, you take it like a good girl, gushing slick until it runs warmly down the inside of your thighs, body spasming as the alpha fingers you with fervor. You keen high in your throat, brain muddled completely by the alpha’s scent, breathing it in from where it’s imprinted into the sheets, resulting in you cumming in no time with a loud cry as you splatter slick all over the other’s wrist and down onto the bed.

You breathe harshly as you slowly start to come down from your high, body tingling as hands that are still slippery with your slick start to untie the rope from around your body, letting your limbs free. You whine in distress when you’re rolled over onto your back, a quiet shush is exhaled right on top of your lips before you're being kissed softly, instantly calming down. You let yourself melt into strong arms that skillfully untie your wrists, your head falls back against a broad chest as your thighs get massaged by the alpha’s big hands, kneading the flesh with his fingers and making you exhale blissfully.

“Such a good puppy. You take everything I give you so well.” The words are whispered into your ear and your eyes fall shut, letting the deep voice that makes the alpha’s chest vibrate quell your restlessness.

Your legs still feel wet and sticky with slick, but you know that’s something the alpha will take care of. He always takes care of you. You never have to worry about anything. You think that’s nice. Not having to worry feels nice. If only worrying about how you were going to get away wasn’t pressing so heavily on your thoughts…

Breathing in the powerful scent of amber, your head lolls back onto the alpha’s shoulder, your body sagging completely against him. With a content growl vibrating against your back and a small nip to your scent gland, you are instantly put to sleep.

PAST.

Hongjoong is not like any other alpha you've ever met. Of course, he still has the intensity of an alpha that is sure to bring a tremor to your knees, but it’s by far more subdued.

Hongjoong is nice. He doesn’t hold any malice behind his eyes. He smiles wide and toothy—like a ray of sunshine. His voice is soft, like a warm blanket on a chilly day. He talks about writing and his dog from back home and he calls his mom almost every day during lunch time. His scent is soft for an alpha, yet still intoxicating. 

You want to bathe in it.

Hongjoong is a good person. He’s a good friend. A good alpha. You look at him with stars in your eyes. 

And Hongjoong knows it.

It’s way too painfully obvious for him not to. 

From the way you try to avoid his gaze and the way you squeak whenever you do meet it, to the way in which your scent sweetens whenever Hongjoong is around, honeyed cherry blossom sickeningly potent, to the point in which it attracts looks. Hongjoong has to know. He has to know that you’re doing exactly what your mother had warned you not to do all your life.

Swooning for the very first alpha you ever laid eyes on. Getting lost in his scent and in his voice, replaying the sound of his laughter over and over again in your head when you’re all alone in your dorm, allowing your walls to break down for an alpha that hasn’t done as much as show you any intentions.

Hongjoong doesn’t look at you any differently than he looks at Wooyoung, or Yeosang, or even Jihyo. He’s polite in every sense of the word, and you think that that’s what makes even more hearts float around your head whenever he looks at you. It’s the fact that he’s everything an alpha shouldn’t be—and everything you have ever wanted.

Hongjoong is a reliable kind of alpha.

Independent and level headed. He’s the only one out of your friend group who lives off campus in his own apartment, unlike the rest of you that stay in dorms. He has good grades, yet never looks as if he struggles to achieve them. He’s always well put together, unlike you who has deep dark undereye circles and disheveled hair after nights of studying continuously for upcoming exams.

Hongjoong wears expensive clothes and eats healthy organic food that you know must cost a fortune. You haven't felt the taste of strawberries in months, even though they’re your favorite, because you simply cannot afford them. Hongjoong looks like he could provide everything a mate would ever need. You find yourself envious of the omega that will get to call him their alpha.

But Hongjoong has never shown interest in anyone so far; at least not in front of you. He never talks about any omegas, even though there are multiple that ogle at him every time he passes by. It’s easy to see why they would all want him. Hongjoong has eyes only for his friends though. He would much rather spend his evenings with you all in the library than go out and party to possibly take someone home. And you, well…you think that’s nice.

You enjoy having Hongjoong sit across from you at your study table much more than you’d ever care to admit. You like the soft heady scent of amber tickling your nose when you’re typing away at your laptop, trying to focus on your notes rather than on the person sitting in front of you. 

But it’s hard.

It’s especially hard when you don't hear the sound of typing anymore and are rendered to sitting in tense silence. Wooyoung had left for the bathroom, so inevitably, leaving just you and Hongjoong. When you look up from behind your screen, you have to stop yourself from nearly choking on your lollipop at the sight of a dark pair of eyes focused solely on you.

You can’t help but think that Hongjoong has never looked at you like that. He’s never so blatantly allowed himself to stare you down, making you shrink into yourself that you try to make yourself as small as possible in your chair. You also take notice of another thing—this is the first time you’ve ever been alone with Hongjoong. There’s always been at least one other person with you, up until now. You think it might be because your friends were still wary about leaving you near an alpha all by yourself. They didn’t want you to freak out. But Hongjoong has been your friend for a while now. Hongjoong is a good alpha. Hongjoong can be trusted.

Hongjoong looks at you as if he wants to eat you.

“What flavor is that?”

It takes you a good few seconds and a couple long blinks before you realize that the quiet words are directed at you. It also takes you a while to realize what he means. Your lollipop. You pull the stick out of your mouth and try your hardest not to cough, swallowing thickly instead.

“Green apple.” You whisper brokenly, lips pursing together into a thin line.

You fidget in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs, but no matter what you do, the intense gaze settled upon you still makes you feel restless. It’s not until the soft scent that had been settled into the air around you suddenly spikes up, that your mouth drops open. You look up with slightly widened eyes, just like a deer caught in headlights. It’s strong, warm, musky, rich—it’s intoxicating. Your mouth waters.

“Is that your favorite?” You don't know how, but Hongjoong’s voice sounds deeper than ever before. It’s like a rumble, traveling through your ears. You think that if you were standing right now, you would definitely be getting weak in the knees.

“I–I think so.” You stutter out, trying your hardest to get yourself in check.

Don’t do it. Don’t make a sound. Don’t say anything.

It’s inevitable. The smallest of whimpers gets caught in the back of your throat, coming out as a measly squeak. You can feel yourself getting light headed. It’s so sudden and it’s so much, too much for you to handle. Why does Hongjoong smell like that, why is it so powerful, why is it making your legs squeeze together?

“Cute.”

The door to the library opens. And suddenly, the intensity is gone. You feel like you had been floating somewhere up above the clouds and you suddenly slumped back into your chair as if you had been dropped. You blink the haziness away, startling when Wooyoung plops back down next to you. The omega sniffs the air around and pulls a face.

“What the—” he pinches his nose, looking up at Hongjoong. “Are you close to a rut or something? It stinks in here.”

Hongjoong seems to finally peel his eyes up off of you. As if nothing had ever happened, he blinks and smiles sheepishly up at Wooyoung. His whole demeanor changes. A bashful laugh.

“I think so. Sorry.” He scratches the back of his head.

You look down at where you were still tightly gripping onto the stick of your lollipop. You urge yourself to relax and breathe as shallowly as possible. The earthy tones still prickle your nose with each inhale.

“Be careful, Hyung, jeez.” Wooyoung shakes his head and pulls a pencil out of his case, going right back to writing in his notebook.

You will yourself to look up once more. Leaning as far back in your chair as you possibly can when you meet Hongjong's gaze. A deep crimson red gets blinked away as soon as it comes. It leaves you feeling breathless.

“Yeah. I will be, don’t worry.”

PRESENT.

Sleeping is one of the only things you look forward to. Because when you sleep, you get to dream. And in your dreams, it’s just you. No one else. No alpha trying to lay their claim on you, no rules you need to abide by—only you. And you try to escape to that place as often as you can; or better said, as you’re allowed to.

You would nap all day long if you could. Your bed was comfortable, blankets warm and soft. You had more than enough pillows to surround your whole body with, with sheets that were purposefully scented for you to bury your nose into, against your better judgment. The scent that would bring a tremor to your knees and make your blood run cold was the same one you had to breathe in with each inhale, and allow it to muddle your every thought. 

Everything you do was controlled by that scent. 

The musky tone of amber that was always guaranteed to have you on your hands and knees, with your head lolling to the side and putting a strain in your neck as your body unintentionally struggled to present. Just the smallest spike of pheromones was enough to make you everything you never wanted to be—an omega controlled by the hands of an alpha you didn’t wish to belong to.

So, naturally, even in your sleep, you couldn’t escape the power that the scent possessed over you. It was everywhere around you—dictating your every move, controlling your every thought. 

In your dreams, you preen at the feeling of being engulfed by sweet amber. It makes you sigh contentedly, a flimsy whine getting caught in the back of your throat from the way it makes you feel. Like an overwhelmed teenager after their first scenting—completely smitten. You roll around in it, coating your own scent glands with it, whimpering in need at the way it engulfs your entire being.

The dreams are inevitable and you have no way of stopping them. Not when the scent is so powerful. Not when heady pheromones tickle your nose, making you twitch in your sleep. And especially not when the alpha whose scent messes with your head is the one disrupting your slumber as well.

If you were aware enough, you would’ve been mortified by the thought of your captor barging into your dreams out of all places. But you’re not. You let yourself be completely at his mercy once again; controlled entirely by the pheromones dictating your every move, kisses are lathered all across your jaw and neck, and the hands holding your body down, gently caress over the points that were sure to make you keen. 

You sigh and roll over into the arms that wrap tightly around you, soft whispers tickle your ears, and make you whimper out loud.

“Prettiest omega. You make your alpha so, so happy.”

“Gonna take such good care of you. Keep you pupped and bred so well.”

Under any other circumstance, you would cry and shake your head at the thought of birthing pups for the alpha holding you. But this is your dream. A dream in which you’re allowed to do as you wish; to nod your head and whine through the kisses being sealed into your skin. To think about your pussy being stretched around the knot that is sure to breed you good, and the swell that will be put in your stomach when you’re pumped full of cum. It’s your dream and you don't have to think rationally for once.

You can feel the stickiness, warm and wet, trailing down your inner thighs and soaking your entire backside. You can feel it gushing out of you like a faucet, your little pussy so warm and slippery, the glide of fingers through your folds produces nearly no friction, just a loud wet squelch that is sure to make your cheeks warm up. You allow yourself to be rolled over onto your front and have your legs spread, rough hands settle over both of your ass cheeks, parting them to reveal your sopping cunt. 

You think you’re still dreaming when you feel your hole being prodded. The head of the alpha’s cock catches against your entrance and teases you until you’re soaking his entire length with even more of your juices. Your honeyed scent engulfs the air around you, almost overpowering the earthy amber. You feel your head lolling around, too heavy for your own shoulders. You sigh from between the pillows your nose is pressed into. 

It makes your thighs quiver, and your pussy clench as he slowly opens you up. You can’t do more than whimper throughout content sighs, small noises leaving the back of your throat as strong hands hold your hips down, fingertips digging into your skin.

“Mine.”

The first powerful thrust is what breaks the fog that clouded your vision apart. His cock reaches deep into your tummy, breaching your cervix and making your stomach bulge. You choke around a wet gasp, weak hands trying to grasp at anything they can reach, but come up empty. Your neck strains when you try to lift your head, but a hissed snarl rumbling right by your ear is enough to have your cheek smashing right back into the pillows, a scared little mewl escaping through your lips.

Your hands are shaking. Your neck is exposed, struggling to present. You feel your entire bottom half completely soaked, a small puddle having formed underneath you, most likely seeping all the way through the mattress. Your eyes feel heavy in your head, struggling to blink them open. You feel yourself being held down, a hand tightly gripping your hip while the other pushes on the small of your back to make you arch beautifully. 

Through a struggled gasp, your eyes snap wide open and realization dawns on you. 

You’re not dreaming anymore.

You let out a moan as you feel yourself being plowed into the mattress, hands weakly scrambling to grasp for purchase. You twist the tousled sheets between your fingers, eyes watering up in an instant. You should scream and try to fight back. Beg to be let go of, to make this stop. You should cry out for mercy. 

Your eyes roll back instead.

“Alpha!” 

Your weak whimper is met with a resonating growl, your weepy little pussy gets split open on the girthy cock that has started ceaselessly thrusting into you. The nip at the back of your neck is enough to have you dripping all around the alpha’s cock, the warning of the claim to come makes you preen as he shoves your face into the pillows as you try to muffle a cry. It’s so good; opening you up so well, reaching so deep inside that you think your guts might be getting rearranged. You gurgle around your own spit when you feel your stomach distending, tummy bulging with every thrust. You wish you could reach down to feel it, but your wrists are grasped by forceful hands and held down behind your back. 

“That’s right, scream for your alpha.” You positively sob when a hand slams down by your head, startling you. The alpha only leans in closer so he can grunt his crude words right into your ear. “You like this, don’t you? Like how good your alpha fucks you?” He’s not your alpha. You don't want someone like him to be your alpha. 

You should open your mouth to tell him that but what comes out is a moan instead. 

“Perfect little omega, made to take my knot.” 

“Puh–please!” You squeal, biting down on your bottom lip until you draw blood when you feel the cock inside of you grow even bigger than before.

“Shh,” A gentle nip to the lobe of your ear and a kiss to your temple is enough to have you cease squirming, “it’s okay, sweetheart. Your alpha’s got you.” 

You feel your walls spasming, squeezing tightly around the alpha’s cock as your neck gets thoroughly scented through your orgasm. Sweet amber clouds your every sense as you get fucked so good that it starts to hurt, the promising swell of a knot makes you shed little tears of need. You don't want to be knotted, but your omega never seems to agree with you. It has a mind of its own as it makes you submit, opening your legs even wider and lolling your head to the side even further as you beg for a claim as if you were lusted by heat.

But you’re not in heat. You’ve never even had a heat before. You've never gotten to know what the true desire of a claim during heat feels like. The alpha is not in rut either. You’re just in denial of your true needs. And your need right now is to get knotted and pumped so full of cum that your tummy is sure to swell from it.

The alpha is always there to fulfill each and every one of your wishes.

“That’s right. So good, so perfect.” Your throat feels thick with a purr that you struggle to hold back. “Pretty omega. Gonna make my rut come early.”

Your struggles are rendered futile as you scream when your pussy gets completely filled up, knot plopping right inside and locking you both together, long and warm spurts of cum instantly shoot out. You hiccup through the loud purr you’d been trying to contain, letting it all out at once. Your omega feels content after being fucked and pumped full of so much cum.

“Mine, mine, mine.” The alpha growls, burying his face in the side of your neck, licking and sucking in deep purplish bruises right over your scent gland, making you throb around his knot. Your teeth grit together weakly through another forced orgasm. The feeling of being so full to the brim becomes too much. “My omega. All mine.”

You whimper pitifully as you slump into the arms holding you tightly, almost as if you would crumble if the alpha were to let go. You cry out weakly when your body gets jostled around, cum swishing warmly in your tummy as the alpha turns you both onto your sides. Your hole feels puffy against the tug of his knot. 

“Perfect. So perfect. Always do so well for me.” Tiny praises get whispered into your ear as your eyes start to roll to the back of your head, gentle bites and kisses are scattered across your neck and shoulder.

You feel your chest suddenly flood with warmth. Before you get to realize what that feeling could mean, your eyes struggle with a few last blinks before completely falling shut. The last thing you see is the tiny red dot in the corner of the room, flickering on and off and haunting the dreams you fall right back into.

PAST.

You didn’t mean to do it. At least not like you had. You definitely could have worded it better. You know how much an omega’s rejection to a alpha can sting. You spend days on end beating yourself up over it. You’re still trying so hard to get used to being near an alpha and learning how to act properly that you reacted on instinct.

It had been cold. The threat of a storm was quickly approaching campus when your last class ended. You were quick on your feet, thinking that maybe if you ran, you could get back to your dorm in time before the rain started. That’s when Hongjoong caught up with you, stopping you by the exit with a light tap on the shoulder that made you turn around sharply.

An inhale of sweet amber was enough to calm you down, before your brain went into a complete meltdown at the display of pearly white teeth as Hongjoong smiled at you.

“Hey, looks like it’s gonna storm pretty bad. Can I walk you to your dorm? Just to make sure you get there safely.”

Warm. Everything felt warm. Hongjoong’s smile, his scent, the lingering feeling of his touch, your cheeks. Way too warm. You felt as if you were going to explode. You looked around, but everyone was rushing past you to evade the oncoming storm, not sparing the two of you so much as a glance. Hongjoong waited. Patient. Way too patient. His eyes did not leave your face. You didn’t know what to say. So you just—

“N-No, thank you!” 

And just like that, you bolted.

You didn’t stop to look back once. You didn't get to see the smile being wiped off of Hongjoong’s face. You didn't get to feel his scent souring from the sting of an outright rejection. You ran and ran through campus until you reached your dorm; your clothes were completely soaked by the time you made it. And then, you face planted onto your bed and just…screamed.

You avoided Hongjoong for almost a whole week after that. You’d duck behind every wall or trashcan you could whenever you saw him passing through the hallways. The rational side of you knew the one that would have to bear the embarrassment of that whole incident was Hongjoong, but you still felt mortified. The event replayed over and over in your head. You rejected the simple offer of a walk home from the alpha you had been blatantly ogling for the past couple months. How humiliating.

You thought about a way to fix things. Constantly wracking your brain for ideas about how you should apologize, but you came up empty-handed. You were not brave enough to bring it up with the alpha. But it seemed like you wouldn’t have to after all.

After your last lecture of the day, you headed over to the library as usual. Going to the same desk you always sat at, you were taken aback to see that it wasn’t empty. Maybe someone had gotten there before you. Disappointed, you go to turn on your heel and move somewhere else, until you do a double take. Walking closer, you clutched your hands to your chest as you leaned over the desk to look at what sat on top of it.

A note. And next to it, a lollipop. 

Touching it with tentative fingers, you pick up the piece of paper to read the short sentence written on it.

Anatomy quiz on Tuesday, study with me?

And right underneath it, two check boxes. Your head whips up, instantly looking around until you spot him. Hidden behind a bookshelf, with just his head peeking out and a small smile on his lips. Hongjoong. You inwardly squeal.

Placing your backpack on the table, you unzip it to retrieve a pen. Your hand is a little shaky, but a smile pulls at the corners of your lips when you check the ‘YES’ box with no hesitation. Sitting down, you slide the note over onto the other side of the desk. Clearing your throat, you focus on unwrapping your lollipop, nervously picking up the sound of approaching footsteps.

You plop the candy into your mouth when the legs of the chair in front of you scrape the floor, a small content sound leaves you. Green apple. He remembered. Looking up, you feel your mouth water around the lollipop. Hongjoong smiles sheepishly at you.

“Hi.”

You like the sound of his voice. You feel your heart beat a little faster than before at the hushed word. Despite your nervousness, you smile. Hesitantly, you wave. And Hongjoong, well—Hongjoong grins wider than you have ever seen him do before.

Later, when your lollipop has long since melted and you’re left with nothing but the stick to chew on, you retrieve one of your own post it notes, hiding it behind your hand as you wrote a short sentence on it, you nervously look anywhere else but at Hongjoong as you pass it to him.

Walk me home?

You think you hear the alpha inhale sharply. You’re honestly prepared to be met with the same rejection you had offered a week prior. His eyes burn holes into the note sitting between you. And then, Hongjoong reaches for his pen.

Where you expected him to make a small check mark, he instead draws a heart in the box that marks yes. You absolutely melt into a puddle.

PRESENT.

You often get left alone during the day. Your alpha—a title you have surrendered to addressing the other with—is gone for a better half of the day. Which is good, because you get to nap a lot. You like naps and the silence of your room during those times, so you never complained once until now. The alpha would come in during the early hours of the morning to wake you up—either with a soft caress to your cheek or a knot shoved deep inside your cunt, depending on how he felt. Which always ended with him feeding you breakfast by his own hands, before leaving you to tend to yourself for the rest of the day.

Whenever he comes back home, you wait nervously. The other is always unpredictable. You never know what you’re going to get from him. You don’t know if you’re going to be greeted with a gentle kiss or a slap to the face. You don’t know if you’d be called “sweetheart” or a “fucking slut” until you get to see what mood your captor is in. It’s fair to say that you’d much rather prefer the former.

You've never been the type to enjoy harshness, which in a way explains itself, since you’re so soft to begin with. Always having been described as a delicate and sensitive omega. Words such as “filthy whore” and “useless cockslut” simply do not define you. That doesn’t mean you’re sheltered from the wrath of it though.

So, more often than not, you only get to find out what it’ll be when the alpha unlocks the door after having been gone all day. Or, in other rare instances, he’d do something else. Something like slipping you a note through the crack underneath the door.

After all the time you spent locked in here—maybe a month? You honestly can’t recall anymore—you’ve become extremely sensitive to even the slightest of sounds. Your ears pick up any creak in the floor and every gust of wind traveling through the house. It’s easy for you to hear the sound of footsteps approaching your door and stopping right in front of it. You wait with your heart stuck in your throat for it to open, but it doesn’t. Instead, there’s some quiet shuffling, and then something catches your eye.

You quickly scramble to your feet, nearly toppling off the bed when you see the white piece of paper slipping through the crack of the door and into the room. You know the alpha doesn’t like waiting. And you're not really keen on testing your luck. So, with trembling knees, you lower to the ground, and with shaky fingers, you pick up the piece of paper.

One question. Two check boxes. Your eyes instantly well up with tears.

Blue or pink?

You don't know what the options mean. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into by choosing one or the other, but you know you have to take your pick fast. With a sniffle, you get up to go over to your small desk in the corner of the room, picking up one of the crayons you’ve been allowed to have for your coloring book, and marking a wobbly X on the paper.

You’re feeling pink today. You don’t know what that option will bring, but you know you’re bound to find out soon enough.

Slipping the note back through the crack is probably the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve done in a while. You scurry back to your bed and clutch a pillow tight to your chest. And then, you wait.

Waiting is probably the worst part, because you don't know what you’re waiting for, nor what the outcome will be. You bite the skin around your nails and rock back and forth slowly, rooted in your spot until the steps returned, and with the twist of a key in the lock, your door swings open.

You stare wide eyed at the alpha leaning against the door frame. He gives you a tentative one over before a wave of pheromones tumble through the room, reaching you and instantly easing your anxiety. It’s pathetic how blatantly easy it is for him to hold you under his thumb. How easy it is to control you with a mere whiff of earthy musk.

“Hi, little one.” You sink into your blankets.

You don’t make a sound as the door gets shut and the alpha makes his way across the room towards you. You watch warily as you’re approached, curiously eyeing the alpha’s hands that are held behind his back. You can’t help but feel like that can’t be a good sign.

“Missed me?” The slight tilt to the alpha’s head has you squirming in your spot, bringing your pillow even tighter to your chest until your nose buries into it. “Of course you did.”

You don't want to say that you missed him. You most certainly didn’t miss the feeling of nervousness that thrummed throughout your body anytime he was near. But, perhaps, a small and distant part of you did miss the feeling of someone else being inside the house as well. You don't dare voice that thought.

“Come here.” He beckons with a small grin, the alpha’s cheery mood makes you extremely skeptical. “Y/N,” He doesn’t raise his voice; he almost never does, but the change in tone is evident, “I said come here.”

You scramble up to your knees in an instant, crawling across the bed until you reached the foot of it, looking up at the alpha with wide eyes, waiting. That seems to please him as he takes a hand from behind his back and uses it to caress the side of your face, knuckles stroking over your cheekbone tenderly.

“Very good.”

You whimper weakly when your chin gets tilted, already knowing what’s coming before it even happens. You close your eyes and exhale shakily when a nose is pressed to your neck, rubbing softly into your skin, making you wince from having your bruises prodded. They run all the way from your neck, up to your jaw, and down across your breasts, the deepest one always right over your scent gland, red and purple with hints of green in between. You never got to see yourself in a mirror, so you don't know the true extent of their severity, but you sometimes catch small glimpses of yourself in the window at night. The images are enough to give you nightmares.

You shudder through the first touch of a wet tongue over your skin, head rolling to the side to expose more of your neck, which the alpha shows appreciation for with a deep hum. You feel humiliation course hotly through your body, but your omega preens. You feel yourself tremble at the hint of a bite over the underside of your jaw.

“I got you something nice.” The alpha says next to your ear. “Close your eyes.”

You’re hesitant to do so. Every time you close your eyes, you’re scared that it’ll be the last time you’ll get to do so. A raised brow in your direction is enough to make you do as you’re told, eyes falling shut as a short exhale escapes through your lips.

“Arms up.” You don’t even get to lift your arms yourself before they’re being held up by warm hands, guiding them above your head.

You feel sweat break out over your forehead and gasp when you feel a piece of material being dragged over your arms and down your body. Clothes. You haven’t had any clothes on your body the whole time you’ve been here. You’ve slowly started growing used to being naked all the time. Your heart leaps all the way out of your chest at the feeling of finally being covered by something other than your blankets or another body on top of yours.

Your hair stands up as you slip your head through the collar of what you think is a shirt at first, until it falls down the rest of your body, and you realize it’s way too long for it to be just a shirt. When you're allowed to lower your arms and given the okay for opening your eyes again, you instantly look down.

A dress. It stops at the tops of your thighs, baby pink with white frills at the bottom, a line of bows starting from your waistline all the way up to your cleavage. When you notice the loose way it hangs around your chest, your boobs almost entirely spilling out, you realize it’s supposed to be tied in the back like a corset. You look up just as the alpha goes to sit behind you on the bed, his calloused fingers trailing down your spine, make you shiver.

You straighten your back when you feel the loops of string being tightened, breathing a little heavier as you stare out into space, the top half of the dress is secured tightly around your chest by the alpha’s skilled hands. So that’s what the pink was for. You still don't understand the purpose of the dress since it’s most likely going to be ripped off of you soon enough, but you’re not going to ask any questions.

“Come on,” the last part of the dress is tied into a neat bow before a kiss is pressed to the back of your neck, “up.”

Reluctantly, you allow yourself to be pulled up and off the bed, your legs wobble a little as you stand in front of the alpha. Looking down, you can’t take your eyes off of the way the bottom of the dress floats around you with every move you make. The alpha sits down on the bed, leaning back on his hands as he stares you up and down. 

It makes you nervous.

“Give me a twirl, pretty.” You feel your cheeks instantly flush, reaching up to press your palms over them to try and soothe the burning skin.

You bashfully spin around, flowy dress twirling along with you, the ruffles at the bottom tickling the tops of your thighs. Your hands are still pressed to your cheeks when you’ve completed the full turn, looking back at the alpha whose eyes seem to have remained unblinking, bottom lip tucked between his front teeth. A small curse escapes his mouth.

“Look at you.” His chest puffs out, almost as if he takes pride in the way you look right now, all because of his doing. “Fucking beautiful. A downright doll.”

The hands that were previously resting on your cheeks move to cover your eyes, too overwhelmed by the sudden compliments. Your knees lock together from where you stand, and an embarrassed whine escapes you. You’re not used to being praised this much. At least not unless you’re being pounded into the mattress at the same time.

“Come on, now.” A tug on the bottom of your dress is enough to pull you closer, stepping carefully until you’re standing between the alpha’s parted legs, peeking at him through the gaps between your fingers. “Give alpha a kiss.”

Reluctantly, your hands lower until they’re resting at your sides. You know the alpha doesn’t like waiting. If he asks for something, you’re expected to do it. Fast. You only get to swallow once against the ball rising in your throat before you tentatively lean down, lips pressing softly on top of the other’s, so softly it can’t be considered as more than a hint at a kiss. You inhale sharply when your chin gets grasped by forceful fingers, balancing yourself by placing both hands on the alpha’s shoulders as he takes the kiss he had previously asked for right from you, sealing your lips together tightly.

Your fingers twist into the material of the shirt you grip, eyebrows furrowing together as you’re kissed thoroughly, your lips are parted by his tongue that easily slips into your mouth, prodding against your own. Kissing is still something you haven't managed to master. It’s not like you get to do it often. You’re more used to being knotted rather than kissed. Somehow, this feels ten times more intimate. Your tummy still overflows with butterflies whenever the alpha kisses you like this.

Before you realize it, you’re being pulled forward until your knees are resting on the mattress on both sides of the alpha’s body, a hand wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You think this must be the calm before the storm. A small moment of lenience that you’re being granted. You let yourself melt into it. Into the arms holding you.

You can’t help but think that this is nice. Dressing cutely after being offered the chance to pick the color of your outfit. Kissing until your lips start to tingle, swelling from the small nips and suckles the alpha offers you. You kind of like how small you feel like this. The alpha’s arm wraps so easily around your waist, hand resting on your hip as he holds you on his lap effortlessly. You shouldn’t, but you think you really like this. You almost lose yourself completely into the kiss. 

Until you hear it.

A small swish right next to your ear. It’s so sudden that it makes you pull back sharply, spit still clinging to your lips. When your eyes snap open, a startled scream nearly rips from your throat. All you manage instead is a struggled wheeze. When your eyes fall onto the glint of the small blade by your head, you scoot back so fast that you nearly topple off the bed. The alpha catches you at the very last second, the arm he still has wrapped around your waist keeps you secure on his lap. You cry out loud when you’re tugged back onto the bed.

“Not so fast.” The alpha tuts. Your eyes instantly well up with tears.

“N—No, you can’t! Please, I—” you stutter, a wet sob slipping past your lips— “I’ve been good! I—I don’t deserve this, p—please—”

“Shh,” you instantly get hushed, calming pheromones begin to pump into the air, but they do little to ease your anxiety, “not gonna hurt you, little omega. Don’t worry.”

As you still struggle to push against the alpha’s chest and get off his lap, you can’t help but think about how much that sounds like a lie. How can he say that he’s not going to hurt you but have a knife pressed to your side at the same time? You gasp when you get easily manhandled until you’re turnt around, your back now pressed to the alpha’s chest, one hand resting on your belly, the other slowly making its way between your thighs.

You breathe in shakily as the blade is slowly lowered until it rests underneath the bottom of your dress. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as you watch the tip of the knife lift the material until it uncovers the meat of your thighs. You feel hot tears instantly wetting your cheeks.

“Already crying?” The alpha mumbles curiously. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Yet. The promise of something that is going to happen soon. You cry harder. “Please!”

“Shh,” He tries to hush you once more, nipping playfully on the side of your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looks down at what he’s doing, “don’t wanna hurt you. Just wanna mark you, that’s all.” Your breath gets caught in your throat when the hand that had been previously resting on your belly slowly trails up to grab one of your tits forcefully. “Just a little bit.”

When the knife is turned so that the tip lays against your skin, you abruptly squeeze your eyes shut and twist your head away, not able to watch. Your whole body locks up, teeth gritting together as the first touch of the blade hits your thigh. Just like a baby, you weep.

You expect to be silenced. To get a threatening bite over your neck. Maybe even a squeeze around your throat. What you don't expect is a powerful slap right over your cunt.

“Stay still.”

You whimper, trying to squeeze your legs together, but you know better than to fight back. The blade returns. And then, with a short glide, it cuts into your thigh.

You cry and scream loudly, until you realize that the pounding in your head and the soreness of your throat hurt a lot more than the little lines that graze your skin, barely drawing any blood to the surface. When you go to reach for the alpha’s hand, you get slapped again. This time, it lands right over your clit. You whine out loud through the sting.

“You’re being bad, Y/N.” The tone is threatening enough to have you fall limp against the chest behind you, weakly sniffling in defeat. “I don’t like stupid brats.”

The next series of slaps are completely undeserved and makes you cry and beg for mercy until your throat closes up and snot runs down your face. It’s not a pretty image. You can do nothing as your cunt gets abused continuously, your clit being hit over and over until the pain slowly starts stimulating you, making you splatter slick all over the alpha’s palm. You think your pussy must be red and swollen by the time it all stops, and you get thrown on your back onto the bed.

You’re too dizzy to realize what’s happening until your legs are thrown over broad shoulders, your dress gets pushed up to your hips, and your sore pussy is being filled in no time with the alpha’s girthy cock. You sob through the pain of it, crying weakly as your body gets jostled up and down onto the bed, you grip the sheets to try and ground yourself.

“Stupid omega. I give you such nice things, and you can’t even sit still for me?” You struggle to take in huge lungfuls of air when you see the blade that had been previously carving into your thigh being pressed against your neck. “Useless.”

This time, your cry is one of genuine hurt. The aches in your body are sure to heal, but the tear in your heart is deep. Being called such mean words…It hurts you more than you’d like to admit. You sob quietly, moaning through every thrust that has your cunt gushing slick like a faucet.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. You did nothing wrong. This was not your fault. Your head screams at you to shut up and not open your mouth. But still—

“I—I’m sorry.” You sniffle pathetically, blurry vision trying to focus on the alpha’s face.

He stares you down as he fucks you thoroughly into the mattress. Your face twists up through another cry. In your despair, the alpha can’t help but think about how beautiful you look. The knife gets pulled away from your throat far enough for him to be able to lean down and capture your spit slicked lips into a powerful kiss, rendering you breathless.

Just like every other time, the same words get whispered over and over into your skin as if they were a mantra. “My omega.”

You’d never thought you’d see the day in which an alpha would be rammed balls deep inside your pussy, calling you his omega. And yet, now it is something that happens on the daily .

As you lie on your back, eyes swimming around in your skull, unable to focus, you can’t help but think about the reality you’ve started to live. The one in which getting fucked within an inch of your life with a knife pressed to your throat has become the norm. It’s all you have come to know while living here.

A small part of you tells you that it’s all your fault. You forgot the only rule. Just behave. Easy as that. You didn’t need to worry about anything else. You chastise yourself for being so stupid. Brats are truly good for nothing. And that’s exactly how you feel right now as your cunt is stretched impossibly wide around the knot swelling inside of you. Bad and useless.

Blinking through your tears, you look at the leg you have thrown over the alpha’s shoulder. The sight of two bloody initials carved into your skin is what sends you tumbling over the edge, orgasm so powerful it rips through you with a scream.

Blood trails down your inner thigh warmly. Your pussy pulses around the knot that’s being fucked inside of you. Fingertips dig into the carving on your thigh, the pain searing hot. Two letters.

“HJ.”

PAST.

Your walks home with Hongjoong have started to become a more frequent occurrence. After the first one, that was spent in comfortable silence, you found that you quite enjoyed crossing the short distance from the library to your dorm in Hongjoong’s company. It became a silent agreement between you both to do it every day since then.

The comfortable silence would sometimes get disrupted by Hongjoong’s curiosity, asking you short questions, almost as if he didn’t want to test his luck, but he was just too curious to not try. Questions about how your day had been, to what you had eaten for breakfast, melted into slightly more serious ones over time, such as why you seemed so afraid of him or why you avoided alphas on campus.

“Y-You just…” you struggled to find the words. “You make me nervous.”

Hongjoong blinked once at that, but it didn't seem to be a bad reaction. And it shouldn’t be. The fact that he makes you nervous should be a good sign. You hope that he would interpret it as such. It takes him a few long seconds to reply.

“Do other alphas make you nervous?” He asks instead, tilting his head curiously.

You feel a little taken aback by the question. Everyone is aware of your reluctance around alphas. It’s a well known thing. But Hongjoong is not asking if you’re afraid of alphas. He’s asking if they make you nervous. The same way he makes you feel.

“They scare me.” You whisper, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him, but your eyes don’t waver. “But you don’t.”

At that, Hongjoong inhales sharply, visibly trying to hold himself back from puffing his chest out. Your omega recognizes Hongjoong as an alpha that you shouldn’t fear. It is definitely something he has every right to be proud of.

“I’m glad.” Hongjoong nods. “You can trust me.”

You look down at your feet, eyes focusing on your dirty sneakers as you speak. “I—I do.”

The alpha’s grin can be heard through his voice as you stop in front of the dorms after having walked the short distance together, his smile lights up his whole face as he looks down at you. You can’t help but notice the fire that seems to be burning bright behind his eyes.

“Good. I want you to.”

Small walks had prompted the two of you to start spending more and more time alone together, just the two of you, without the rest of your friends. Wooyoung would watch you both warily whenever Hongjoong went to walk you back to your dorm at the end of the day, but his worries slowly started to melt away when he noticed that you seemed at ease around Hongjoong. He’s happy to see how close you've become.

You get to know Hongjoong better, until slowly but surely, you start sitting next to each other in your shared classes. Your seat at the library desk across from Hongjoong has been abandoned so you could plop down right next to the alpha instead, working closely until your shoulders would brush. You fidget around nervously during those times, playing with whatever you can find on the table. 

It just so happens that sometimes Hongjoong’s things end up in your hands. And as you twist his pen through your fingers, you can’t help but notice the engraved initials of his name in them. Glancing over at Hongjoong, you take notice for the very first time that his initials are placed upon a lot of things. On the side of his pencil case, on the end sheet of his textbooks. 

Hongjoong puts his name on everything he owns. 

And that sparks your curiosity.

“Why do you have your initials on everything?” You ask out loud one day, twiddling once again with one of Hongjoong’s pens.

The alpha looks up at you from where he had been taking notes in his notebook, giving you a raise of his brow at the question. You don't say anything; you just sit quietly and wait for a reply. It feels almost as if Hongjoong’s eyes stare daggers into your face. You swallow thickly.

“I don’t like others touching what’s mine.” Your breath gets caught in your throat, pen slowly falling from your grasp at the confession. Hongjoong looks down and smiles. “You’re fine, though.”

That night, as you wrote down the last of your notes from your lecture, you couldn’t help but stare out into space and think of the time you spent with Hongjoong. As you still clutched the pen the alpha had given you, your eyes run over the gold initials. You think they look beautiful. Hongjoong is all you can think about.

Before you realize what you’re doing, your hand has a mind of its own as it scribbles something in the corner of your notebook. Small and pretty, right at the top of the page.

“HJ.”

With a heat spreading all the way from your cheeks to your ears, you rip the page and get to rewriting your notes all over again.

PRESENT.

For the first time in months, you feel the bite of the wind against your skin.

You haven’t left the comfort of your room the whole time you’ve been held captive. You’ve never even done as much as open a window (not like you would have been able to anyway, since they were bolted shut.) You haven't had the chance to smell much of anything but honeyed cherry blossom and sweet amber combined. When your nose sniffs around and inhales the crispness of the cold night air after so long, you nearly fall to the ground.

But you don't get the chance to, since there are strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you up, but your knees still buckle. You breathe in deeply, heart threatening to beat right out of your chest. You’re so scared and overwhelmed, but so grateful for the first taste of fresh air in months. You feel your eyes well up with tears.

“Can you do something for me, sweetheart?” The alpha brings you back from your small daydream, lips trailing to your ear as he speaks.

You feel every hair on your body stand up. You look around, eyes rapidly trying to take in your surroundings. The alpha’s brought you to the front door of the house and you're astounded to see that you are completely surrounded by the woods. Of course, the constant silence had led you to believe you had been taken somewhere secluded, but you never would’ve predicted it would be in the depths of the forest, surrounded by nothing but tall trees and steep mountains.

You breathe rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open as you nod. A smile is pressed into your skin as your palms grow sweaty.

“Run.”

It takes you a moment to register the word. It was such a brief whisper that you start to believe it might’ve just been a gust of the wind, completely made up by your imagination. But when the arms wrapped around your waist leave you, and the body that had been previously pressed up against yours takes a step back, you’re left cold and alone for the first time in what feels like forever. And you don't know how to handle yourself.

You turn around, lips trembling as they try to form words, but nothing comes out. Your hands are clutched against your chest, fingers twisting into the smooth satin of the night gown you had been granted. You feel helpless, sitting at a crossroad, not knowing if you should walk ahead or go right back where you came from, to try to find comfort in the arms that finally set you free.

A small threatening growl is enough to make you spring into action. Against your better judgement, you do as told. You run.

The dirt feels cold and mushy underneath your bare feet, but you don’t get to think about that as you bolt down the steps leading up to the cabin, your arms flail around your body when you dash forward with no direction, and the sound of your heartbeat thuds loudly in your ears. You’re scared and completely terrified at being offered the chance to get away so easily. This must be a game. The alpha has to take some kind of twisted enjoyment in seeing you try to run away, knowing that, realistically, you stood no chance.

You run for what feels like hours, but it can’t be more than a few minutes. You run until your lungs start to burn and your thighs begin to ache, you weren’t used to putting in this much effort after not taking more than ten steps inside your room every day. You feel weak. So weak that you feel like your legs will give out from underneath you at any moment. Which they do.

You find yourself tumbling through dirt and grime as you fall, yelping loudly when you try to brace yourself on your palms. Small, sharp branches graze your legs, opening up the scars that had slowly started to heal on your thigh. At the sight of blood, you cry. Your knees and elbows feel battered and bruised as you struggle to get back up, your nightgown having torn at the bottom, revealing even more skin.

You don't want to run anymore. You want to go back. You want to cry and sob into the alpha’s chest as he picks you up and carries you inside the house to bathe you just like he does every night. You would much rather take the fingers squeezing and prodding at your body as you get soaped up than this.

Spoiled, your mind tuts at you. You’re one spoiled omega, desperately looking for comfort even in the arms that cause you harm. You’ve gotten so used to being completely provided for that now, being on your own, absolutely terrifies you. You cry out weakly for your alpha.

“Please…I—I wanna go back.” You sniffle pathetically, wincing as you step on tiny pebbles that dig into your heels sharply.

You know that this is what the alpha wants. You’re not stupid. You know he’s looking for a chase. If you were to actually stand a chance at getting away, he never would’ve allowed you outside in the first place. Plus, the scent trail you left behind would be extremely easy to follow for anyone, especially for an alpha that has grown as accustomed to the sweetness of it as he has. He could easily pick out your scent from a crowd. You were doomed from the very beginning.

The crunching of leaves somewhere close by is what gives you enough strength to finally get back on your feet, sniffling pathetically as you run again, blurry vision making it harder not to trip. You choke around a sob, almost screaming out loud when the steps behind you start to grow closer. You’re being chased, and your captor wants you to know that. He wants to let you know that he’s right behind you and he won’t let you get away. You push past the strain in your legs, wind blowing across your face and turning your skin tacky from tears.

You reach a steep drop. You dig your heels into the ground right before tumbling and falling all the way off, bracing your body against a tree trunk, fingernails breaking as you dig them sharply into the rough wood. Breathing sporadically, you look around. You have nowhere left to run. You don't spot the alpha, but you can hear him. His steps are loud and clear, echoing in your ears. Through a last desperate attempt, you go to hide behind the tree, making yourself small as you crouch down and slap a hand over your mouth.

He’s getting closer. Close, close, close—until he stops. Your eyes are so wide, you feel like they might pop out of your sockets as you keep your sweaty palm pressed to your mouth, breathing heavily through your nose. You struggle so hard to keep your scent under control, but you know it must be spiking like crazy. In a desperate attempt at trying to cover it, you slap both hands over the scent glands on the sides of your neck.

You feel him lingering around, the sound of leaves crunching makes every hair on your body stand up as the alpha circles the area you’re hiding in. You hear him sniff the air around, following up with a resonating snarl. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut, thinking that this must be it. You’ve been found.

Then, the steps start to slowly trail away.

Your eyes blink open, taking in a huge breath when you don't hear any more noise. Could this be it? Did the alpha really lose your trail? Would it be possible for you to have actually gotten away? You sit like that for what feels like forever, staring out into space, not daring to move until you deem it completely safe. With trembling hands, you push yourself up and peek out from behind the wide tree trunk. It looks clear. You exhale shakily.

You did it. You actually did it. You got away. 

Your heartbeat echoes loudly in your ears when you slowly start to tiptoe away from your hiding spot. Your whole body trembles as you take your first step out. You keep on looking around, feeling as if this was too good to be true.

Which it was.

“Got you.”

You scream so loud that it pierces painfully through your own ears, the wind gets completely knocked out of you as you find yourself flipped upside down, and a hard shoulder digs into your stomach when you’re thrown over it. You yell desperately, trying to punch and scratch at the alpha’s back, but it’s futile. A painful bite right over the side of your ass makes you yelp out in distress, and your arms hang limp in the air as you get carried back up the hill you had stumbled from.

“Good girl.” You’re confused by the praise, sniffling weakly as you start feeling nauseous from being carried this way.

It’s when you arrive back that you finally realize what he praised you for. You did as you were told. You ran. The cuts on your legs and the dirt underneath your nails are enough evidence of the fact that you behaved. You get one last look at the woods outside, blinking through your tears as the door swings shut behind you.

You expect to be taken right into the bathroom to have your whole body scrubbed raw. Instead, you’re startled to find yourself being thrown onto the bed, body bouncing as it lands on the springy mattress. You gasp when your ankles get grasped forcefully, dragging you down to the edge of the bed where the alpha kneels, swiftly throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“Silly omega.” You cry out, startled when what’s left of your gown gets ripped right in half, exposing your entire body to the air of the room that had slowly gone cold while you were gone. “Can’t get away from me.”

You begin to see stars in your vision when the alpha dives right in, burying his head between your thighs and attaching his lips to your clit, sucking mercilessly until he has you writhing and gasping, slick falling out in wet dollops against his chin. You leave a trail of honey all over the lower part of his face and neck, not able to control yourself as the alpha’s tongue plunges right into your hole, greedily drinking up all the juices you have to offer him. You’re startled when he pulls away to dig his teeth into your inner thigh until he breaks skin.

“You’ll stay right here with me.” He threatens, eyes flickering red as he blinks up at you. “Forever.”

You sob through your orgasm, your whole body feeling weak after having run through the woods for so long. Your knees hurt too much to hold your weight up when you’re flipped over onto your front, flopping down pathetically with your head buried in the pillows. The air around the room is pumped full of powerful pheromones that have you cowering into submission, more than ever before. It smells different. It’s somehow more potent, if that’s even possible. It makes your body tingle all over, cunt clenching around nothing as you’re mounted from behind.

When you get thrust into, you gasp, mouth going slack as you’re filled up over and over again. Digging your blunt nails into the alpha’s wrists that slam right by your head, you can’t help but put the pieces together. It smells so good. Everything about it makes you want to get closer and clamp down around him even tighter, to make sure you get plugged up and knotted real good. It has a fiery heat simmering low in your tummy.

As promising whispers of ‘mine’ and ‘gonna breed you so well’ hit your ears, you think back on the alpha’s words from a few days ago. When his knot pops and cum starts flowing inside of you until it swells your belly, you realize he hadn’t been lying.

The alpha smells earthy and warm—and like the promise of an upcoming rut.

PAST.

The only parties you have ever attended have been the birthday parties of your classmates or neighbors. Of course, they were all held in the safety of someone’s home, where the parents could also attend and keep an eye on their children. You associate parties with confetti, cake, and kid-friendly mock champagne. What you don't associate parties with, however, is everything your friends are describing.

Of course, they’ve all been to parties before. The adult kind, where there is no cake, and the champagne contains real alcohol. Your friends have a life of their own outside of college, in which they do fun things, like going to parties, dancing with strangers, and forgetting about studying for the night. You have always been content with staying in until now. You liked being ahead of your classes and talking to your mom over the phone before bed. But you can’t deny that you feel a little left out.

The first and only time Wooyoung has asked you if you wanted to go to a party, you laughed at him awkwardly as if it were some kind of joke. The thought of being around so many strangers terrified you. You’ve seen the movies; you know how these things go. You watch Lifetime. Parties have no limits. Drinks get spilled, mouths become loose, and hands get sloppy. You didn’t want to risk having a stranger touch you. You know yourself and how you would react. It would only ruin everyone else’s mood. And what you don't want to be is a burden.

So you said no. And ever since then, it had become sort of common knowledge that you would never accept an invitation to a party where you didn’t know everyone. That’s why none of your friends ever asked again.

But Hongjoong likes parties. He used to always go out with the rest of your friends to all the parties that were thrown, even the ones that happened on weekdays. Up until a few weeks ago, he would never miss a single one. Now, not so much. He spends most of his evenings cooped up in the library next to you instead, silently studying together, and occasionally exchanging bashful glances and brief shoulder brushes. You start to feel bad about it.

You feel bad knowing that you might be the cause of Hongjoong not going out anymore. His refusals have started to become less and less subtle. When he gets asked if he wants to go out, his responses usually vary from not being able to because he has a test that has never been announced, to he has to go home and feed his cat, which is very doubtful since you have never heard him even mention having a pet. Ever.

You can’t deny the fact that you’re curious. Curious about what these parties are like. You want to quell that curiosity. At least just once. Just to see what it’s like. All your friends are going to be there anyway, right? If anything were to happen, they would protect you. You had no problem clinging to their side all night long to make sure that no one else tried to approach you. Maybe it could be nice. Something fun for you to do with your friends. You don't know if you’d like it, but you think they most definitely will.

When you speak up from the lunch table while everyone is talking away about the frat party they’re going to be attending tonight, it’s fair to say you’re met with justified shock.

“Can I come?”

You feel bad about inviting yourself, but you know they never would have asked you to come otherwise. And you don't blame them. So you built up the courage to take matters into your own hands. The silence you're met with makes you squirm uncomfortably in your spot.

“Y—yeah,” Wooyoung blinks rapidly, nodding his head, “of course, Y/N!”

Hongjoong, who had been seemingly quiet up until then, suddenly clears his throat and avoids your gaze as he speaks.

“I’ll come too.” 

Wooyoung furrows his brows. “Didn’t you say you had to change the water to your fish tank?”

Hongjoong’s jaw visibly clenches, eyes narrowing on Wooyoung's face. The omega leans back slightly, raising his eyebrows at the sudden change in demeanor. It’s true. Hongjoong did say he had plans for the night. You actually wanted to suggest that you both skip going to the library today because you didn’t want to keep him too busy. The sudden switch confuses you as well.

“My fish died.”

Yeosang slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp. Jongho tuts pitifully. And you’re left rooted to your spot when you feel a gentle hand settle on top of your knee underneath the table. Swallowing thickly, you watch Hongjoong’s fingers softly run over the denim clad skin of your leg. Somehow, the touch feels comforting. 

Sweet amber tickles your nose.

Wooyoung pulls a sad face and apologizes. It’s settled then. You’re all going to the party tonight.

Your stomach rumbles with anxiety.

PRESENT.

Having taken suppressants ever since you were old enough to, you never got to experience what a real heat felt like. You’ve always been very thorough with your medication. You would take it at the exact same time every single day, on the dot. Or at least you used to.

You haven’t taken any of your pills in over two months. At first, things had been so hectic for you lately that you honestly forgot about them. It wasn’t until after the first couple weeks of being kidnapped and getting filled up with cum on the daily that you realized. Going for so long without suppressants meant you were going to experience the first full blown heat of your life really soon. And that thought terrified you.

The signs were small, too small for someone as clueless as you to put together; but your alpha did. As soon as you started huddling all of your pillows in one giant pile on the bed, lying your blankets neatly, and whining pitifully if God forbid they were to be moved, he realized exactly what was happening. Which is why he started bringing more and more things to your room, making you sniffle up at him with big eyes as more blankets along with some thoroughly scented shirts from the alpha’s closet piled in.

For the first time since you had been taken, you stopped pushing. Instead, your omega screamed at you to pull more and more of the alpha in, inviting him into your bed and into your heart. You kept your nose shoved into his shirts at all times, which more often than not led to you waking up in the middle of the night in a wet puddle, completely slicked up.

Your nights wouldn’t usually pass without being knotted multiple times. Your eyes would roll back at the heady scent invading your nostrils with the sweet promises of a claim to come being whispered into your ear. You want to blame it all on the pheromones. What did the alpha do, and why did he smell more appealing than ever before? You wanted to bathe your body from head to toe in spicy notes of heady musk. You wanted to taste it on your tongue and have it coat the back of your throat. You never thought you could become addicted to a scent, but you think that right here, with your head pressed into the alpha’s neck, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Bathing on your own is something you haven't done once since being here. There were always hands on your body, lathering your skin up with soap, scrubbing you gently of any remnants of blood, tears, cum or any other bodily fluids. You think it’s kind of nice being taken care of like this. You learn to enjoy it far more than you probably should. You don't have to worry about lifting even as much as a finger when powerful arms wrap around you from behind, moving your body as they wish.

Your head leans back against the alpha’s shoulder, sighing in content as your sore thighs get massaged, strong hands kneading the strain away. You shift slightly, wincing when the knot that still hasn’t gone down inside of you tugs at your pussy again. The alpha growls low in his chest. You sniffle, head turning to the side.

In your bittersweet obliviousness, you can’t help but think that the alpha looks beautiful like this. Focused on taking care of you. On pleasing his omega. Your throat feels thick with the beginning of a purr, which travels between you both quietly at first, but gradually grows higher in pitch as the soreness in your muscles get massaged away. Without even realizing what you’re doing, you lean closer.

The scent is intoxicating, radiating in waves from where it’s most powerful, right over the alpha’s scent gland on the side of his neck. If you were actually clear headed right now, you would be mortified by your own actions. You feel drunk, completely overrun by lust. Your whole body burns up as you lean closer, lips ghosting on top of the alpha’s skin with the promise of a touch. You can feel his chest become rigid against your back as he holds his breath completely.

Your jumbled thoughts make the decision for you. You feel as if you’re no longer in control of your own body when your lips pucker, grazing them ever so slightly right underneath the alpha’s scent gland you’ve been subconsciously nosing at for a good minute now. You feel your lungs grow weak when the arms around your waist squeeze you so tight that they begin restricting your airflow. You’re too desperate to care. Too desperate to feel, to smell, to taste. The tip of your tongue darts out, only barely getting to touch the scent gland in front of your face before you’re gripped harshly, a hissed snarl hitting your ears.

You instantly pull away, choking around a cry as you begin to get fucked right onto the knot that’s been keeping you plugged, cum swishing warmly inside your tummy. The water splatters all around you, landing in big puddles on the tiles, your hands slip as they struggle to grasp onto the edge of the bathtub. Your head strains to push to the side when lips get sealed over your scent gland, sucking hard and making your eyes roll back.

“Mine.”

It smells good. Like earth and sex and everything that is sure to make your mouth water. Heat simmers steadily through your veins. You sob, eyes snapping wide open when the strong scent of what can’t be mistaken as anything but rut hits your nose.

You cum with the word "yours" falling from the tip of your tongue.

PAST.

You thought that the party would feel a little easier with your friends by your side. You assumed that having Wooyoung next to you and Hongjoong (hopefully) pressing up against you to send any unwarranted alphas away would grant you enough peace of mind to actually be able to enjoy yourself. But things don’t really go as planned. Wooyoung is not glued to your side, having lost him somewhere in the crowd about fifteen minutes ago. Hongjoong is also nowhere to be seen after announcing that he was going to go grab both of you some drinks. And now, you’re left alone, in the corner of a room filled with people that you don't know.

You wait impatiently, biting the skin around your nails bloody and wincing at the sting as you keep on looking around, hoping to spot a familiar face. There are two omegas you sometimes see in your biology lab, dancing wildly in the middle of the room. You also spot some other people you’ve seen in your lectures before, but you couldn’t name them even if you tried. And then, there’s someone else.

Your nose had been completely overwhelmed by the variety of scents mingling together when you first set foot inside the frat house. It was simply too much. All that sweetness, along with sourness and bitterness, should never be combined. Your nose itched as you struggled to breathe shallowly through your mouth and not let yourself freak out over all the strong alpha scents currently surrounding you. Until you pick up on the one of burnt orange and your skin instantly bristles.

It's strong, radiating towards you in waves. You know the pheromones are directed specifically at you. An alpha most commonly shows interest through their scent. And the alpha eyeing you from across the room is making his intentions very obvious. So obvious in fact that they have you clamping a hand over your nose, to try to evade the disgusting scent of smoke filling your lungs.

Your knees feel weak as you look towards the source of it. The alpha starts to make his way across the room, a look of lust evident on his face. His eyes pin you into place as if he wants to ravish, to control and dominate; his intentions clear as he strides towards you.

You gasp and back even more against the wall, knees locking together as your legs feel as if they’re going to give out on you. A startling growl splits the air. You're shocked to find that it doesn’t come from the alpha, making his way towards you. Instead, it rumbles from the other side of the room, where your eyes instantly snap towards. You swear you feel them become glossy with tears of relief when you make out who the person on the other end is.

Hongjoong takes long, purposeful strides your way, two plastic cups clutched in just one of his hands, the other instantly reaching out for you as soon as he’s close enough to do so. You mewl weakly when a wrist gets pressed to your neck, gasping as the alpha’s strong scent of amber is rubbed right over your scent gland. You grip onto his arm tightly with both hands.

The other alpha is completely forgotten about as you look up at Hongjoong, who won’t seem to take his eyes off the threat standing about ten feet away. That was a close call. But Hongjoong came back just in time to save you and cover you in his scent to lure away the unwanted alpha. Almost as if he were staking a claim. Obviously, you knew he only did it to protect you, but your omega still preens at the attention.

“T—Thank you.” You stutter, breathing in more and more of Hongjoong’s scent with each inhale. It now clings to your skin, and it’s impossible to avoid. It’s only when the other alpha decides to give up and walk away with a defeated scoff that Hongjoong finally looks at you. He grips your chin, tilting it upwards so you’d meet his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You gulp and nod your head weakly in the alpha’s grip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you here by yourself.”

All you can do is shake your head in silent protest, not wanting the alpha to feel as if this was his fault. He’s supposed to be having fun, not watching after you to make sure you’re safe. You look down at the drinks, the other is still gripping in one hand, and tilt your head curiously.

“This one’s for you.” Hongjoong clears his throat, pushing one of the red cups in your direction. “It’s not very strong, so you should be fine. I made it myself.”

You would trust anything Hongjoong gave you. You smile gratefully and take the cup from his hand, bringing it up to your lips. In a stupid attempt of wanting to forget what just happened, you downed the entire thing in just three huge gulps. Hongjoong’s eyebrows raise, most likely not having expected that. Your lips purse, mouth twisting at the bitter aftertaste. The drink is fruity, but it definitely has a kick to it. Your tongue feels tingly.

“Don’t leave my side.” The alpha warns. You wouldn’t dream of it.

It’s about an hour later that you feel your eyes begin to feel too heavy in your head for you to keep them open anymore. Your body sways as if it’s turned to jelly, and you lean your weight against the person next to you. You can’t recall who it is, but they’re definitely sturdy enough to hold you up. You giggle airily at nothing in particular.

“Y/N?” It sounds like Wooyoung. It must be Wooyoung. You smile with your eyes still closed. “Christ, how much did she have to drink?”

Your mouth feels full of lead when you go to answer, but no words come out. You want to say that you didn’t have much, just one drink. You admittedly expected to get drunk easily, since your mouth had barely touched any alcohol before ever in your life, but you didn’t think it would feel like this. Like your whole body was floating somewhere far away from you, completely out of your control. You mumble something incoherently, forehead pressed to someone’s shoulder.

“Definitely way too many to count.” You hear Hongjoong answer for you. Lie. Hongjoong is a liar. Why was he lying? You want to gasp at the realization, but you’re too tired to react.

“You were supposed to watch over her, you idiot!” Wooyoung screams angrily and you whisper a quiet “uh-oh” that no one picks up on.

“Wasn’t that your job?” Hongjoong comments dryly, wrapping an arm around your back and letting you press your face into his chest.

No words leave Wooyoung for a few long seconds after that. You feel tired. You want to take a nap. You also want some water. Your mouth feels impossibly dry. You whine into Hongjong's chest.

“Just…take her home, please?” Wooyoung sighs, his voice melting into the heavy beat of the music. You feel your body swaying along to the rhythm.

“Will do.” 

“Is it time to go home?” You think you ask. You try to at least, struggling hard for only just the last word of the sentence to come out, quiet and slurred. Your nose presses against a warm neck. Your legs give out from underneath you just as you get picked up and carried outside the house, the night air cold against your skin. Your head falls back onto Hongjoong’s shoulder.

“Yeah, pretty.” The alpha whispers, engulfing you in his comforting scent. You preen internally. “You’re coming home with me.”

You knock out before you can realize that Hongjoong is headed in a completely different direction than the one of your dorm room.

————

You awaken in a room you knew you didn’t belong in, only to startle when you find yourself tied down to a bed. A bed that wasn’t yours. Your head was pounding heavily, and your body felt as if it had been run over. Is this what a hangover felt like? But you didn't recall drinking that much at the party. The last thing you remembered was downing the entirety of the drink Hongjoong had given you. You inhaled sharply. 

Hongjoong.

You try to call out his name, but your throat feels scratchy and sore. Your whole mouth was dry as you smacked your cracked lips together. Hongjoong was not here, but he was. You could smell him. He’s everywhere around you, his scent clings to your nose and skin. It surrounded you from all ends. Where is he? Why isn’t he here helping you?

You whine pitifully, tugging on the ropes that bind your wrists together to the bedframe. Fighting against the heaviness of your lids, you blink them open only to look down and take notice that you’re not wearing anything but your dress from the previous night. You gasp, clamping your legs together. Your lack of underwear makes your bottom lip wobble, becoming more aware of the danger you're in.

The door swings open. You startle, still trembling from head to toe as you watch a figure step into the darkness of the room. When the lock clicked shut and the light switched on, you exhaled into a wet sob.

“H—Hongjoong!” You cry out, struggling against the bindings again, but to no use. You’re completely stuck. “P—Please help, I—I don’t know who did this!”

“Shh,” Hongjoong crosses the room in no time, crouching by the bed so he can be at eye level with you, “stop moving. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Against your frantic thoughts, you do what you’re told and listen to him. Your body falls still. Looking at the alpha with teary eyes, you can’t hide your confusion. How is Hongjoong so calm? Where are you? Who did this to you? 

“Good. Very good.” Hongjoong smiled, reaching out to run his thumb across the softness of your cheek. You cowered, trying to pull away. Hongjoong didn't seem to mind, though. “You’ll learn fast if you keep listening to me.”

Learn what? What does he mean? Why isn’t he freaking out the same way that you are? Why won’t he untie you? You voice your discontent through a whine.

Hongjoong tuts in faux concern, leaning closer to dote on you, he gently runs both his hands over your cheeks before petting your hair. “What’s wrong, pup? Are you hurt? Do you need some water? Tell Alpha so he can make it better.”

You feel as if the wind had been knocked out of you. Pup. Hongjoong just called you pup. He’s coddling you as if you were a puppy. Like a mate would. You shiver at the thought. You want to ask him to take you home. Instead, you struggle to rasp out one word.

“Water.” It’s so quiet that you’re afraid the alpha won’t be able to pick it up. But he does.

It’s almost as if he had been prepared for the request; a bottle of water was waiting at the ready on the nightstand by your side. He pulls back to grab it and uncaps it, carefully bringing it up to your lips. The first touch of moisture against your dry tongue makes you inhale sharply. The hand placed on the back of your head stops you from leaning too far back and downing the whole bottle in one go; you take long sips instead, managing to quell your thirst at least to an extent. When Hongjoong pulls the bottle away from your lips, he rewards you with a small praise of “good puppy”, which makes you frown.

It takes you a few long seconds until you gain enough strength in your voice to speak up. “W—What’s going on?”

You are shocked to feel the touch of a hand run up your exposed thigh. You quickly bring your legs together, becoming even more aware of your nakedness than before. You gasp when Hongjoong’s fingers dig into your skin, a thick wave of pheromones shooting into the air, causing your eyes to roll back automatically.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” He mutters, the powerful scent of amber has turned you so weak that your legs fall right open when the alpha nudges them apart. “Just the prettiest omega.”

“Hong…” you exhale shakily as your body tries to fight back, but is unable to. Your inner voice screams at you. You can’t do anything but blink blearily at the alpha. 

“You know, I never meant for this to happen.” Hongjoong comments offhandedly, stroking over the skin of your inner thighs, which tremble underneath his touch. “But then, you were just…there.” The scent grows stronger, and your body becomes weaker. “Tiny and sweet. Completely untouched.” His eyes meet yours. The brief flicker of red in his irises makes you jolt. “Like you were just waiting for me.”

With a last weak attempt, you try to scoot away from the alpha’s grasp. Who is this, and what did he do to your Hongjoong? The one who was too shy to hold eye contact with you for more than a couple of seconds. Who smiled at you bashfully whenever your shoulders brushed. The one who slipped you green apple lollipops and sticky notes with check boxes drawn at the bottom. This Hongjoong is different. This Hongjoong looks at you as if he wants to bite. 

You’re afraid he just might.

For the first time, Hongjoong’s resonating growl of displeasure is directed towards you. You cower instantly, stuttering through a gasp as even more powerful pheromones pump into the air. They’re full of dominance, and they make you ache with the need to submit. The hand that had been previously resting between your thighs inches lower.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong nods encouragingly, looking up at you sweetly from where he sits down at your side. You almost don’t take notice of your dress being flipped up over your hips, “your alpha is here now.”

Your alpha. You get hit with a sudden wave of nausea. You yelp when fingers begin to prod around your most intimate parts. You both are shocked to see that his fingers come back wet. Hongjoong grins.

“You want this.” You shake your head no desperately, but to no use. The alpha gets to his feet and is on the bed between your legs in no time. “You want me.”

“N—No, Hongjoong, not like this, p—please—” You sniffle weakly, whimpering when his fingers part your folds.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Hongjoong was supposed to be different. He was supposed to do everything you always imagined  would happen when you fell in love. You wanted to be courted; to be promised the world and give your heart in return to the person you would get to call your mate. Hongjoong was supposed to be that person for you. But now, he’s ruining everything.

“Liar.” Hongjoong slaps your inner thigh harshly, making you jump in surprise. You try to close your legs on instinct. “Got a slicked up cunt to prove it and yet you still act as if you don’t want this.”

Your eyes instantly well up with tears, not used to being talked to in such a way. No one’s ever said such crude words to you. Hongjoong is the last person you expected to ever hear it from. You squirm around uselessly as your pussy gets played with, a thumb presses to your clit as a finger sinks into your tight opening. You’re so overwhelmed that you choke on your own spit.

You've never been touched like this. You were too ashamed to even think about touching yourself down there. It was too dirty. You felt tainted by the hands violating your body. You felt as if you had completely lost control over yourself when you clench down around the fingers inside of you, sending a gush of slick trickling down the alpha’s palm, until it reached his wrist.

You felt so humiliated.

“You were made for me, Y/N.” The alpha fixes you with an intense stare that makes you cry and slick up continuously. “No one else. Just me.”

The sound of a belt buckle being undone makes you freeze. Wet squelches of slick have your cheeks heating up, the fire in your tummy flares like crazy. Then there’s something wide being pushed against your opening.

“All pretty. All mine.” And then Hongjoong’s cock is sinking inside of you.

You thrash your body around, trying to get away, but it’s futile. The alpha’s hands are gripping your hips tightly, holding you down. He lets out a startling growl that has you cowering into submission against your will. You whine like a kicked puppy as your virgin cunt gets brutally plowed into. Hongjoong offers you no mercy as his cock drives into you relentlessly. You can do nothing but sob.

“You take cock so well. Of course you do.” Hongjoong’s nose presses into your scent gland, tongue tracing a wet line down your skin. “You’re just perfect all over.”

You wish you could move your hands. You want to push and hit and scratch. A small rational part of yourself tells you that even if your hands were untied right now, you still wouldn’t be able to do any of those things anyway. Hongjoong holds too much power over you. His scent controls your every move. It’s what makes you leak like a bitch in heat, pressing your cheek into the pillow, leaving your neck exposed. The alpha seems to really enjoy that.

“Gonna keep you right here.” Hongjoong exhales sharply, attaching his lips to your scent gland and clamping down, making your eyes roll back. “Stuffing you full with my knot and breeding you so well.”

You hiccup through sobs, desperately shaking your head from side to side. You don’t want that. You don’t want to be bred, you don't want a knot shoved up your pussy. You just want to go home. 

You voice as such.

“I—I wanna go home.” You whisper desperately through a sniffle. 

Hongjoong’s thrusts slow down just enough for him to be able to lean in closer and press a kiss to your sweaty forehead. He inhales your sweet scent of honeyed cherry blossom and hums in content. 

“You are home, sweetheart. You’re with your alpha now.”

The breach of the first knot you've ever taken in your entire life feels so big, you’re afraid it might actually split you open. You cry out weakly when the base of Hongjoong’s cock swells enough to lock you both in place. You desperately try to stave off your own orgasm, but to no avail. You throw your head back, bare neck elongated and exposed as cum starts to shoot up inside your pussy, it’s too much, too fast, that it makes your stomach cramp up.

Through tears of pleasure, you can do nothing but look up at the ceiling, inhaling sharply at the flicker of a red light. You get fucked again with the same knot that’s plugging you up before you even get to realize where it’s coming from.

PRESENT.

Hongjoong’s been patient. Like a good alpha. Taking such good care of you while waiting for your heat to come. He didn’t just want to be your alpha anymore. That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to be your mate. And the overbearing scent of sweet cherry blossoms coating the entire house was enough to send him spiraling, confirming his suspicions. It was finally time.

He’s never met an omega that could affect him as much as you do. He never really believed in perfect mates either. But as he lies you down on the bed and crawls on top of you, he just knew that this was how things were supposed to go. There’s no other explanation for it. Your heat triggered his own rut to come early, just as he hoped it would. That’s something so rare, it’s considered to be reserved only between true mates. Hongjoong’s never been sure of many things in his life, but the one thing he’s most sure of is the fact that you were made for him.

The scent of heat and rut mixing in the air has his brain melting, rendering him completely overtaken by lust. His chest vibrates with a continuous snarl as he noses into your skin, your nails scratch over his back before your teeth bite into his shoulder, to try to gain his attention. You whine so sweetly in your desperation.

“P—Please, alpha!” You whimper loudly, throwing your head back and exposing your neck. The alpha’s eyes glow red.

Hongjoong is going to make you live on his knot and only allow you off so you can birth him pups.

“Y/N L/N.” He growls, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders, bending you right in half. “Lying in my bed. Begging for my knot.”

You whimper, reaching out to paw weakly at Hongjong's chest, trying to pull him closer to press your face into his neck. Hongjoong hisses loudly when his knee presses into the mattress that is absolutely soaking, drenched in a literal puddle of slick that is gushing continuously out of your greedy cunt. 

Hongjoong loves you so much.

“I—I need it, please!” Your weepy little pussy clenches around nothing as you struggle to present. If it were up to you, you would’ve already flipped over onto your stomach and pushed your ass out, ready to get mounted. But Hongjoong is holding you firmly on your back.

Feeling the feral urge to claim, the alpha lets his rut overtake his actions. His rational side is thrown out the window for the first time, focused solely on you and the continuous thoughts about how good you’re going to look, swelled up with his pups by the time he’s done with you. With a low growl, he finds his face pressed into your neck, his cock sliding wetly inside of you.

The relief is immediate, but not enough. It’s never enough. Not when it comes to you. And he knows he won’t be able to rest until he’s knotted you so many times that your cunt will become too sloppy to keep his cum inside anymore. With that thought, Hongjoong’s hips start pistoning into you, deepening the bruises that are already lathered across your hips and inner thighs. Your sugary moans are the most beautiful sounds his ears have ever heard.

“Good girl. So good. Gonna let me breed you so well, aren’t you?” Your nod is so frantic you think you might be experiencing whiplash. “You gonna carry my pups like a good little omega?”

Yes! Your mind screams. You want Hongjoong’s pups, you want his cum and his knot, you want all of it inside of you. You want the alpha to take care of you, to hold you like this every night, to fuck you thoroughly into your bed until the sheets are ruined and the swell in your stomach becomes more and more prominent.

Hongjoong’s cock swells, the promise of a knot makes you babble incoherently, spewing nonsense about how good it feels and how much you love it and how you want more. Hot tears run down your cheeks when the graze of the alpha’s teeth hits your scent gland. You desperately wish they would just clamp down and give you the bite that you've been teased with ever since you got here.

“Mine.” Hongjoong whispers into your skin, just like every other time, licking a stripe right over your jugular.

Your eyes flutter shut, desperately speaking out loud the word that’s been resting upon your tongue for so long now.

“Yours.”

The snarl is so loud, it hits your skin before it does your ears. Sharp canines sink into your neck like a knife through smooth butter as soon as Hongjoong’s knot inside of you pops. Your heart sings from the feeling of a bond being formed.

When you close your eyes, you think that this right here could be your forever.

THREE MONTHS LATER

The coming of spring makes the outskirts of the cabin look even more beautiful than before. Hongjoong spent a good full week working on building a garden backdoor, where seedlings could sprout, giving you access to grow all the flowers your little heart desired. The grass had been neatly trimmed, and any rocks or weeds had swiftly been removed to ensure that everything was perfect. Hongjoong will always offer you nothing but the best. It’s the least you deserve.

With spring also comes new beginnings. And Hongjoong thinks that a fresh start is exactly what you both need. He’s been slowly making changes in preparation for it. Not everything could be settled in one go. Hongjoong had to get some business in order before anything else. He started small, with some housing arrangements.

Your old room became empty as soon as you mated. Hongjoong deemed separate rooms completely unnecessary now, since he knew there would be no more chances of you ever wanting to escape. He moved you upstairs to his own bedroom, which was much larger and more accommodating. He’s reminded of you smiling brightly at the offer of a new bed. Your alpha’s bed. Hongjoong loved nothing more than the sight of you rolling around in his sheets.

Along with bedroom relocations came the decision Hongjoong had been contemplating for a long time. The sight of you sleeping blissfully in his bed was enough for him to make up his mind for good. He didn’t want anyone else ever getting to see you like that. Sharing you with the world is not something he’s keen on anymore. So, without thinking twice about it, he grabs a tall enough stool so that he would be able to reach the camera installed in the corner of the room, and swiftly unplugs it.

No more red dots will be haunting your dreams at night and antagonizing you from far away. Hongjoong made that decision as soon as he laid his mark on your neck.

His computer is something he didn’t have the necessary patience to approach for a long time after that. The recordings had stopped, but everything else was still there, up and running. Hongjoong thought about keeping them all for himself. To have such important parts of your relationship recorded was something rare. Everything was on there. Your first kiss. Your first time having sex. His first time feeding you his cock. Your first heat, along with your mating. They’re all precious memories to Hongjoong. Things that shouldn’t hold sentimental value, yet somehow they still do.

But it’s risky. It’s been risky from the very beginning. It’s not the first time Hongjoong has done something like this and gotten away with it. You weren’t the only omega the cameras installed across the house have recorded. You were just the first to have ever stayed. That’s enough of a reason for Hongjoong to want to erase all these videos from existence, making sure no one else but him gets to have these memories of you ingrained in his brain.

The titles have his hands clutching into fists, previews of the videos making his pants feel all of a sudden a little too tight around his crotch. They’ve all been carefully chosen.

‘tiny omega takes her first knot’

‘bound & ravished—innocent omega begs for her abductor’s knot’

‘omega takes her punishment well with a knife pressed to her throat’

‘kidnapping:alpha goes on a hunt and comes back with an omega hanging off his knot’

There are a lot of them. So many that Hongjoong has lost count at this point. Even after all this time of not posting, the views have continued to spike, the last video ever posted being at an all-time high. Hongjoong doesn’t look at the comments anymore. He’s made that mistake before, and it led to him putting a literal hole in the wall. The thought of anyone out there saying the same things about you as he does makes him seethe. Only he’s allowed to say how pretty you are, only he gets to praise you for how well you take cock. No one else is worthy.

Everyone is obsessed with you. And of course they are. How could they not be? Hongjoong is a first-hand victim of your beauty. He can’t really blame them. They all love seeing your pretty face on camera. You’re just too good. Hongjoong never tells you what to do or how to act. Everything the lenses have captured has been real. The viewers seem to really like that. They love how natural the “acting” feels. If only they knew…

They’ve all been waiting. The most anticipated video has been slowly collecting dust in Hongjoong’s archive. It would be so easy. Just a pick of a good title along with some tags and he could just wait for the money to roll in. Everyone’s been dying to see you finally get claimed; to watch you get fucked thoroughly with a mating bite to your neck.

The video is there.  

But Hongjoong is never going to post it.

Not when you’re in the other room, humming sweetly as you fold the alpha’s clothes, piling them neatly in your shared closet. Not when you’re in the kitchen, cutting up fruit with the swell of your stomach pressing into the countertop. Not when you look up at the alpha with hearts floating around in your eyes, as if you wanted nothing more than to bake him cookies and birth him a litter.

Those are all things only Hongjoong will ever get to enjoy and cherish for the rest of his life. His hand doesn’t even hesitate as it presses the delete button, erasing all of it from existence. Every video, every comment, every view. The page is gone right before his eyes. He’s pleased as he shuts the computer down, going to the other room to do what he’s supposed to—tend to his omega.

After that, it all comes pretty easily. He drives back towards campus, somewhere he hasn’t been in a long time, and parks right outside the dorm rooms. It’s very easy to get the person at the front desk to give him a key to your old room. A simple claim of being your mate is enough to grant him all his wishes, contentedly humming a random tune as he loads up all of your old belongings in the trunk of his car. It all goes smoothly, just as expected. Except perhaps for one small bump in the road.

“Hongjoong?” The alpha turns around after he finishes putting some of your things away, leaning against his car as he glares back at the person that’s quickly walking up to him. “Holy shit, where have you been—”

Wooyoung stops dead in his tracks as soon as he’s close enough to sniff the air around. His eyes widen, books falling from his arms, laying in a sad heap on the dirty ground. Hongjoong sighs. He doesn’t have time for this. 

“Y/N…y—you found her?” Wooyoung asks shakily. Hongjoong tilts his head to the side, eyeing him curiously. His raised brow speaks for itself.

Come on, you can do better than that. Take another guess.

Realization suddenly dawns on Wooyoung’s face. Hongjoong doesn’t just have your scent lingering on his skin. It’s completely intertwined with his own. He doesn’t just smell of amber anymore. His scent sweetened, welcoming the scent of honey and cherry blossom alongside. Hongjoong smells like he’s been bonded. It’s very easy for Wooyoung to put the pieces together after that.

“You son of a bitch, where is she?” His voice shakes around a threat, visibly wanting to get closer to most likely punch the daylights out of Hongjoong, but he knows he stands no chance against the alpha.

Hongjoong shrugs his shoulders, getting back to his feet before turning around to shut the trunk of his car. His smile is patronizing when he looks back at Wooyoung. As if he’s smugly bragging about it all.

“Take care, Wooyoung.” He says, getting into his car without looking back once as he drives away.

The house smells sweet, like freshly baked apple pie and an omega he wants to get his hands on right this second. Going into the kitchen, he frowns when he doesn’t find you there. The pie rests on the windowsill, and right outside in the garden, he sees you, kneeling in the grass and tending to your petunias. 

Hongjoong smiles.

He thinks that things couldn’t have gone any better than this. This is exactly the life he’s imagined for himself. Living in a small house, somewhere far away from the rest of the world, with the cutest mate, growing beautiful flowers in the garden, and grinning widely as you get up and waddle over into his arms, the swell of your stomach pressing against his body.

You call out his name sweetly, as if Hongjoong is the only thing you’ve ever known; the only thing you’ll ever need. The alpha gathers you up in his arms, afraid that you might crumble if he lets go. With the scent of cherry blossom pressed to his nose, he knows that this is exactly how your lives were supposed to be. Running his hands across your stomach, he smiles with the most genuine joy he’s ever felt in his life.

Hongjoong is going to keep you right here, just like this. In his arms at all times. Protected from the world. He noses over your mating mark, a small playful growl escaping him as he picks you up and carries you inside the house. He bites his lip at the sound of your giggles when he places you down on the kitchen counter. He takes a step back to appraise you from head to toe, in silent disbelief at the sight of having such a beautiful omega as his mate.

“My sweet girl.” Hongjoong exhales through a smile.

When he kisses you, your lips taste like the rest of forever.

A/N: If you made it to the end of this, you’re now obligated to go watch the why do you love mv right now on YouTube. No excuses!

[stxrrywoo]

SEA SALT SECRETS ── c.jh

synopsis ; what you and jongho had was nothing short of unethical, if you were to ask your people, that is. neither of you cared, though, which is how you find yourself waiting for the said man in the very cavern that had started everything, relishing in each other's company.

pairing(s) ; jongho x f!reader

☆ ── wc. ; 1.9k ☆ ── genre ; smut, pirate!jongho x mermaid!reader ☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, unprotected sex, dom!jongho x sub!reader, slight manhandling, teasing, making out, petnames (baby, princess...), praising, rough sex, biting/marking, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!! ☆ ── notes ; WAIT!!! if you have read this before, that would be because this is a revamped vers of another fic (midnight lagoon) from my old blog (@/wwooyology); I am the same writer!!!

⏤͟͟͞͞ JOIN THE TAGLIST ── MASTERLIST NAVI ── MAIN NAVI

The cavern was silent, save for the waves splashing against the shore. It had to have been late into the night. The only source of light was the bioluminescent algae that littered the cavern walls and ceiling. The algae illuminated the space in a soft blue, and the water almost glowed along with it. You lay out on the rocks, purple tail dipping into the water, enjoying the feeling of the waves cascading across your scales.

Despite knowing the time, you knew that he would be here at any moment. You knew that as soon as his crew was all asleep, he would sneak away to come see you. It has become a routine since Jongho first found you.

It’s a funny story, really. You had gotten caught in one of their nets when they were anchored in this very cavern. The string was far too tight for you to just rip away from, so you were stuck, fearing that your life was going to come to an end. You had heard the stories from your parents and the elders of the shoal. Pirates were not to be messed with; they would kill you on sight and take your scales to pawn off for a pretty penny.

So to say you were surprised when Jongho found you and just cut you free would be an understatement. His hands were steady but careful as he wedged his blade between your tail and the net, slicing the dreadful contraption off you. Even his voice was soft as to not alert those that were on the ship with him. His kind eyes and gentle hands intrigued you and you knew it was wrong, hell it was probably one of the stupidest things you could do in your life. But god, if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it all.

After those events, you stayed behind a cluster of rocks, watching and studying what they were doing. Your family had been worried sick about you all night long, but that was the least of your concerns right now. No, you wanted to actually talk to this man, even if it was the dumbest thing you’ve done. Curiosity has gotten the best of you.

So you waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, you saw Jongho climbing off of the boat.

You tried to sneak up behind him, but for some miraculous reason, he sensed you there. His head turned, and his eyes bore into yours, peeking from the top of the water.

“I didn’t think a pretty thing like you would hang out around here.” His once soft voice now held a more sinister tone, but instead of getting scared… you were intrigued. Something pulling you towards him, like an angler fish going after the little light antenna on their heads.

That desire only grew from that night when he lured you out of the waters, watching as your tail morphed into human legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare to him. The complete ecstasy that his fingertips brought you left you gasping and begging for more. His dick reaching the most inner parts of your body that you hadn’t even known existed. By the time he was done with you, you had become addicted, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace once more.

Thus began the little rendezvous, meeting in the very place where he first made love to you, much like what was happening now.

When Jongho made it into the cavern, he wasn’t surprised at all to find you lying halfway in the water, your tail swishing softly under the surface. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the tranquility that this space brought you. He stopped once he was close enough to fully see you. Watching the way your damp hair cascaded down your back, small droplets of water still falling from the ends. His eyes trailed the length of your body, taking in your chest that was hardly covered due to the shell top you were wearing. Jongho could feel his dick chub up at the sight alone.

Jongho’s footsteps were careful and quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations under your fingertips. Your head turned slightly to look over at him, and the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly as a smirk spread across your lips.

“It took you long enough,” you teased the male as you pulled yourself further from the sparkling water. Your fingers wrapped around the pendant that lay between your collarbones, whispering a few soft words, allowing your tail to morph into human legs. Jongho’s eyes stayed glued to your body, taking in the new skin that had just been revealed to him.

“I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep.” His voice was soft, unlike the dark look that glazed over his eyes. You carefully stood to your feet, but seeing as it's been a little bit since the last time you had to use your legs, your knees buckled, and you tumbled forward right into Jongho's arms. “Even the sight of me has your legs weak, huh? I'm flattered.”

“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes before fixing your posture to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. His face was merely inches away from yours, eyes boring into your own. He could smell the sea salt on your skin as he leaned closer to you, sealing your lips in a gentle kiss.

“God, I've missed your lips so much.” He groaned against your lips, “...I missed you.” He sighed before letting his lips trail from yours to your cheek, down your jaw and neck, before finding purchase on one particular spot right below your ear. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you pulled his body flush against yours, leaving little to no room between the two of you. He continued to press open-mouth kisses along your jugular until he was sure there would be marks left behind, not caring for the consequences you might face once you were home.

“Jongho…” You whine when his hands traveled down to the fat of your ass, squeezing harshly. He licked a long stipe up your neck before roughly kissing you. His lips moved fervently against yours as he swiftly picked you up off of your feet.

Jongho wasted no time in laying your body down on the flat rocks that sat next to the lagoon. His body slotted against yours, allowing you to feel his bulge against your bare pussy. Your small whines and whimpers were swallowed by Jongho’s mouth as his fingers brushed along the inside of your thigh.

Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch, his fingers leaving tingles in their wake. But it wasn’t enough; no, you wanted more, and you didn’t want to wait. Noticing the impatiens in your eyes, Jongho chuckled, pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, making your hips buck and a broken cry fall from your lips.

“Do you really want my cock that bad baby? You’re dripping on my fingers.” He teased, his fingertips tracing your slit, collecting your slick.

“Jjong, please, I don’t wanna wait. Just fuck me, please.” You pleaded in a meek voice, and Jongho smirked against your skin.

Who was he to deny you what you were asking so nicely for? So he pressed one last kiss against your forehead before pulling back to rid himself of his clothing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing free from his trousers. Catching your gaze, he put on a bit of a show, pumping his cock a few times, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Impatience grew in your chest as you watched him pleasure himself. A whine fell from your lips when he denied your motion for him to move towards you.

Eyes rolling, you moved your hand down to your cunt using your fingers to spread your pussy lips, “Just fuck me already, Jongho, please.”

He chuckled once more before finally giving in and moving closer to your body, grabbing your plush thigh. Leaning over your body, he captured your lips in another heated kiss as he lined his cock with your entrance. In one swift motion, he buried himself in your warm heat, swallowing all of the moans that slipped past your lips.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight, baby,” He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. It had been far too long since he was last able to bury himself in your wet cavern, the crew and missions taking up a majority of his time. So he wasn’t going to hold back; no, he had a lot of lost time to make up for.

He gave you a split second to adjust before his hips were snapping into yours in such a rough manner you were sure there would be bruises. The sounds of his skin hitting yours and moans bounced off of the cavern walls. Jongho couldn’t hold back; his hips were pistoned into your, trying to get as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, pushing even deeper. Deep enough to have the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

Wanton moans fell from your lips as you tried your best to stay up with his pace, but as soon as his tip brushed over that sweet spot deep in your pussy you were putty in his hands. Stars clouded your vision, your orgasm already on the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck— Jjong, I’m— shit, I’m close.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Jongho leaned down, kissing over the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, whispering sweet praises against your skin while his hip snapped brutally into yours.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He groaned when your cunt squeezed around him, “fuck princess, you keep doing that, and I won’t last.” His hands trailed from your thigh to your hands, intertwining your fingers when your high washed over you. His pace slowed just a little to help you ride out your orgasm, but his movements never stopped.

“Jong—”

“Just a little longer, baby, I’m almost there.” He groaned before picking up the pace once more, letting go of one of your hands to rub his thumb against your clit, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your head fell back at the overstimulation, all words but his name leaving your brain. Jongho loved when he got you like this, so fucked out that his name was the only thing you could remember. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your plush thigh before a choked groan tore through his lips when he felt you cum for a second time. The tightness around his sensitive cock was enough to finally push him over the edge, painting your velvet walls white.

“Shit…” He groaned into your neck as he leaned over you, hips rocking softly against yours. Taking in your scent, memorizing it once more for he wasn’t sure when he would be able to see you again.

“Jjong,” you breathed out, running your shaky fingers through his hair. "You’re still hard.”

Jongho couldn’t help but chuckle before rolling his hips deeply into yours, pushing his cum further into your womb, “You drive me insane, baby, and I want to fill you so full of my cum.”

A whine slipped past your swollen lips as his pace picked up a little, but your grip on his body didn’t let up. No, your lips found his, kissing him deeply, telling him that you would love nothing more.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[stxrrywoo]

thinking about yandere/toxic tendencies with hongjoong

Hongjoong is the control freak type with a hint of possessive tendencies. A dangerous combination, he needed—craved being in control of every little thing. not only things in his life, but also you. He needs to be in control of every little aspect that makes you—your time, your hobbies, your lifestyle, even as far as what you wear. Everything.

Hongjoong is extremely manipulative and has a way with words that makes you believe that what he says is the best and that no one knows you as he does. Another thing he needs control over is who you're talking to; he's stalking your social media every other hour and going through your phone while you're in the shower, claiming he was looking for a photo or message. You don't ever question him until you start to realize that people you used to hang out with disappeared without a trace, but even then, he fed you things like "They're probably just busy, but I'll stay with you," or "I'm here, why would you need them?" He'll make you feel guilty for even thinking about hanging out with anyone that's not him.

When you push his limits, though, Hongjoong doesn't explode—at least not at first. His silence is all telling, and you won't even realize you've fallen into his trap until you're already caught.

Hongjoong will know things before you even get the chance to tell him, and if he doesn't like it, he won't say anything, but his body language—silent and calculating, like a predator stalking its prey. He'll give you the chance to make things right, but when you don't, he strikes. And if you try to run? It's game over.

Hongjoong won't yell, sometimes he won't even talk, but his rough touches and burning gaze were enough to tell you he was displeased. Now, if you've done something to really get under his skin, just know that you won't even be able to step out of his sight, lucky to even leave the house.

Hongjoong's control knows no bounds, even in the bedroom; he has absolute control over everything. Your body is becoming just another object he can tweak and maneuver as he likes.

Hongjoong spent so long studying your reactions to every little touch he left on your body, figuring out what made you tick. Just to use it against you—test you even. You couldn't cum until he told you that you were allowed to, pushing you past your limits because he loves watching you try to hold yourself together until he gives his command. But if you cum without his permission? He would have you cumming until your body physically wouldn't allow you to, and you become a limp form on the bed. "Since you can't follow simple instructions them let's see how many times you can cum before you black out."

Hongjoong doesn't like it when you give others your attention out in public, especially when you're with him. That was his—you were his, and he has no issue showing that. His hands will not leave your body, practically gluing you to him while starring at the other person from over your shoulder. Then, when they walk away, his lips are on your jaw, tracing their way to your ear, whispering, "You're mine, you know that, right? Know how well I treat you—make you feel? Say that you know that."

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[youknowsoobin]

title: come touch the line pairing: jeong yunho x reader genre: neighbors to lovers, neighbors au, smut (mdni!!) word count: 23.3k

summary: your next-door neighbor is both incredibly insufferable and insanely hot.

author's note: really desperately needed to write brat tamer yunho, so here he is! i hope you enjoy. you can find this fic on ao3 here! also I will never not hate making graphics/making these posts cute so I hope u can tolerate that dkfgjskjfs ily guys so much thanks for reading <3

tags/warnings: brat tamer yunho, reader is a menace, reader is a brat, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, teasing, general brat/brat tamer dynamic, begging, dirty talk, safe sex (I did it!), multiple orgasms, face-fucking, yunho does the tongue thing, best friends jihyo & wooyoung, hongjoong mentioned

The moment your eyes flew open, it was to the sound of video games and swearing. Unfortunately, from learned experience, there was no waiting this out. No staying in bed until the problem eventually removed itself. This problem loved to overstay its welcome, loved to take a seat on your couch until it rotted there. 

You lay in bed for as long as you could stand the background noise. You tried to fall back asleep, but the sounds of intermittent fucks and sporadic yelling made it entirely impossible. 

When you did finally drag yourself out of bed, still half asleep and grumbling to yourself about the inconvenience, it was in baggy sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt, your hair tied up into a bun. 

Creaking open the door to your bedroom, you watched him momentarily. He didn’t notice the disturbance, just remained locked into the game, lighting up bright colors and explosions on your television. 

Your fingers easily found the spot they always managed to settle on your face when he was around, pinching the bridge of your nose in stress. 

One of your mugs sat on the coffee table in front of him, filled to the brim. You ignored the problem at hand, the man intruding on your living room before noon without your permission, for the second, or maybe third time that week, and walked toward the coffee maker instead. 

He didn’t acknowledge you as you passed, his eyes instead remaining laser-focused on the screen. You didn’t speak either, hoping that maybe if you continued to ignore him, he’d go away. Though, based on past encounters, it never really worked out that way. Though a girl could dream. 

Pulling down a mug from the cabinet, you attempted to place it carefully on the counter before you, tempering your anger. It didn’t matter anyway, even if you slammed the thing down so hard it shattered into pieces, he still probably wouldn’t have looked up. 

It was when you reached out for the coffee pot, hand just barely touching the handle, that the anger bubbled over. 

You whipped around, coffee pot in hand, face screwed up into a scowl that only Jeong Yunho could produce. “Are you serious?” you asked, raising the coffee pot above your head, directing that scowl in his direction—not that he even looked up to see it. 

He was too locked into whatever video game he busied himself playing on your PlayStation. It drove you over the edge, how little regard he had for you. How he used your apartment like a landing ground, a place to escape—and then dared to ignore you while inside it. 

You walked around the counter, coffee pot still in hand, and stopped in front of the television with your arms outstretched. “Earth to fucking Yunho—what are you doing here?” 

You knew the answer before you asked, knew why he was there based on the sheer lack of sleep you’d gotten during the night. 

He shifted to the side in an attempt to see the screen behind you, but you moved with him, waving your arms to get in the way as much as possible. Finally, with a groan and a roll of his eyes—like you were inconveniencing him—he set down the controller. 

With his attention free, he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. His legs were spread, and he took up way more space than he needed to. 

His eyes dragged over you slowly, making a show out of looking at you. It made you squirm in a self-conscious kind of way. The kind of way that also made you want to chuck something at his head.

With a lazy smile, he finally leaned forward again, balancing elbows on the tops of his thighs. “Good morning to you, too,” he said. 

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to keep yourself from screaming at him this early in the morning. “You know, if you’re going to use my apartment as a hideout, the least you could do is save me some fucking coffee.” 

You had to admit—you understood why his apartment had a constant stream of one-night stands filing in at night and out in the morning. He had this way of looking at someone like they were the only person in the entire universe, like nothing else mattered. He looked at you like that, now. All attentive eyes and half-quirked up lips. 

“Your charm doesn’t work on me,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Because it didn’t. All that charm, it was nice. There were split seconds where you understood, sure. But that feeling always passed even faster when you remembered every other thing about him. 

“Not sure about that,” he teased. It was always this push and pull. Him trying to get under your skin, and you always reacting. 

You pushed past the teasing because you just couldn’t deal with his entire personality that early in the morning. Instead, you got back to the matter at hand. “Is she still in there?” you asked, placing the empty coffee pot down on the table in front of you, simply so you could cross your arms. 

Yunho shrugged, accentuating his uncertainty with a slight lift of his eyebrows. “Why don’t you go over and find out?” 

“We’re not doing this,” you said, looking at him with that same pointed expression. 

“Doing what?” he asked, mocking ignorance. 

This would not be the first time, nor the second, nor the third that you’d provided Jeong Yunho with this kind of turn-down service. The first had been a mistake. Knocking on his door to ream him out for being loud throughout the night. The second time he’d tricked you, asked you to come over. And the third, well, it went something like this. 

“We’re not friends. This is not something I just do for you,” you said. “And stop letting yourself into my apartment.” 

“So, are you going to do it, or?” Yunho asked, one brow raised, and you knew he wasn’t planning on relenting. No, he would be insufferable about it until you gave in. He was always stronger-willed than you in that matter—more stubborn. More annoying. 

“Make some coffee,” you said. It was in exasperation that you turned and stormed out, choosing to face the innocent woman left behind in his apartment rather than continuing to have this conversation. Plus, if there was anything you’d learned, it was that once you’d scared her away, he’d leave, too. 

You didn’t understand why he did it. The whole one-night stand after one-night stand thing. He was charming enough, and any of the many girls you’d kicked out of his apartment probably would have made for a great long-term partner. Even just a situationship. It was his biggest red flag. The thing that turned you off. But you got it, too. Because if he didn’t live next door, if you didn’t get to witness the parade and the payoff, you would probably fall for his tricks and charms just as easily. 

But you’d seen the man behind the curtain. You knew the game. And so you knew, too, that he didn’t give a single fuck about any of those women. Not even enough to reject them himself. 

Even though it wasn’t the first time you’d done this, it still felt strange. Pretending. You knocked on the door. Crossed your arms over your chest. Tapped your foot. Directed the annoyance you felt toward Yunho into pretend anger. 

Someone did, inevitably, answer the door. 

“Hey bab—” the woman started. She had long black hair and warm brown eyes. She wore a long button-up shirt that stopped above her knees. Yunho’s. You witnessed the slow furrow of her brow as she put together the situation before you started whatever badly performed rant you chose this time. 

You scrunched your face up to match, mock irritation appearing in the creases at the corner of your eyes, the slight scowl of your lips. 

“Who are you?” the girl asked. It was always their first question, and sometimes you even felt bad about having to crush their dreams—you shattered the ideal image they had of Yunho in their heads, before he could find a way to do it themselves. You framed them as a mistress, the other half of a cheater. 

Why couldn’t he just reject them himself? Wouldn’t everyone leave with more dignity in that circumstance? You and whatever girl he’d involved included?

But you stood firm, trying to imagine what it would feel like to show up at your boyfriend’s apartment only for the door to be answered by another woman. 

“I’m Yunho’s girlfriend,” you said. You’d said it before. It still felt strange. A label you would never want to have. Probably because it would land you in a situation too close to this one. “Who are you?” you asked. 

“I’m—uh,” the girl said. You didn’t stay to listen, instead pushing past her into the apartment, looking for your cheating boyfriend. It was enough to send her into high gear, throwing her clothes back on and ducking out the front door before you could so much as turn around. 

Once she was gone, you took your time leaving. There was nothing interesting in his apartment, no secrets to glean by snooping. For the most part, he was an open book. All games and pick-up lines, without any actual substance. 

You headed back to your apartment. Yunho stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, waiting for the pot of coffee to brew. 

“She’s gone,” you said. 

He chuckled under his breath, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually done it. The first time, you’d both had a laugh about the situation. The incidental scaring off of the woman he’d invited over. It wasn’t as funny anymore. At least not to you. 

You studied him, watching his face for any shred of emotion, finding none. He truly didn’t care about these women or what happened to them after they left his apartment. It wasn’t like he’d speak to them again, so why would it matter how things ended? 

“Come on,” Yunho said. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” you said. But you could feel the scowl, still pressed into your features. Disgust. 

He took a step forward, towering over you and craning his neck to meet your eyes. He loved getting into your personal space, like he was trying to figure you out just the same. But if he wouldn’t give away any shred of his real personality, then neither would you. 

He was just an annoyance. A neighbor who thought the two of you were friends. That didn’t mean you actually had to be his friend. 

“Well,” he said. “Say it.” His head tilted slightly to the side, waiting for whatever opinion you so clearly wanted to share regarding his dating habits. 

“You should go home,” you said, instead. “Thanks to you and your little house guest, I didn’t get any sleep last night—and I have to work later.” 

This made him smirk, a slow crawl across his lips as he enjoyed the thought of you listening. It wasn’t that you wanted to listen—because of course you didn’t. But he made it difficult. Your bedrooms shared a wall, and it wasn’t exactly thick. 

“Don’t start,” you said, stopping whatever thought process was going on behind his eyes, whatever words he was planning on using to get even further under your skin. 

He took the hint, holding his hands up in defense. He stepped away from you, taking out the full coffee pot to fill both of your mugs. He scooped one spoonful of sugar into his own mug, stirring it a few times before grabbing the mug and walking out of the kitchen. “Have a good day at work,” he said, before the door to your apartment opened and closed. 

“I just don’t understand what his problem is,” you said, standing behind the bar, mixing a drink. Jihyo sat across from you, nursing the first drink you’d made for her. It was a quiet Thursday night, so for the most part, your bar was occupied by friends and a few other regulars who didn’t require that much attention. 

It was Wooyoung who responded. “Maybe he likes you,” he said. It wouldn’t be the first time this idea was floated by the board. But it only earned an eye roll from both you and Jihyo, who refused to believe this asinine idea. “It’s guy logic,” Wooyoung said. 

“Maybe you should move,” Jihyo suggested. 

You pointed a finger at her, but looked at Wooyoung. “Now these are the types of solutions I’m looking for.” You laughed. “Maybe I should move.” 

Wooyoung and Jihyo have been your best friends for ages, ever since college. They’ve been there for you throughout more challenging circumstances than just Yunho. If anyone were going to help you get through this, it would be them. 

“You can’t move,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Your place is too nice.” 

You’d talked in this circle with them countless times before. There was no obvious solution, aside from putting up with him. 

“I could threaten to call the police,” you suggested. “Next time he shows up in my apartment.” You placed the finished drink on the counter in front of Wooyoung, taking his empty glass. 

Jihyo pressed a finger to her lips. “Or,” she said. “You could lock your door.”

“I do lock my door,” you said. “He just knows where I keep the spare.”

“Okay, so hide the spare somewhere else,” Wooyoung said. 

“I’ve tried that,” you said. 

“Do you really need the spare?” Wooyoung asked. 

“You made me get one,” you said, pointedly. “When I kept locking myself out.” 

“Right, yeah,” he said. “You could give your backup to Jihyo instead—then there’s no Yunho problem, and I don’t have to worry about you calling me at two in the morning when you lock yourself out.” 

Jihyo said, “No, no,” with a wag of her finger. 

With a sigh, you picked up a collection of shot glasses, placing them on the bar between the three of you. They both had regular people jobs—i.e., ones that required them to be up early the next day, but neither did they protest when you started filling the glasses. 

Just as you filled the last of the three, the bell atop the front door chimed. Pushing open the door was the topic of conversation himself. He wore a black leather jacket, snow dusting the tops of his shoulders. His cheeks were a soft pink from the cold, and his eyes found yours immediately from across the room. 

His pleased smile was met by yet another scowl on your end. He closed the distance between the door and the bar in only a few steps, coming up behind Jihyo and Wooyoung. He reached forward and took Wooyoung’s shot as you pushed it forward. 

Wooyoung looked at you, brows drawn together in shared annoyance. You and Jihyo already had your glasses raised, and Yunho was quick to join in on the cheers he hadn’t been invited to participate in. 

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. He just raised the shot to his lips, tipping it back and swallowing the clear liquid as if it were water. 

You watched in stunned shock. 

“Damn,” Yunho said. “You’re hanging out without me?” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a second, trying to process the situation, trying to figure out what words to say aloud without coming off like a complete and total asshole. 

Jihyo took the lead instead. “Why would we invite you?” she asked, a pretty smile appearing on her lips. One that might have looked harmless to an outsider, but you know meant I’ll fucking kill you. 

Yunho placed a hand on his chest. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“You’re delusional,” you said. 

He lifted his eyes to yours and smiled warmly, like he really was that delusional. You poured Wooyoung another shot, holding it while you waited for Yunho to sit anywhere else. Of course, he didn’t, instead opting to sit on the other side of Jihyo, who promptly turned her back to face Wooyoung completely. 

You put the replacement in Wooyoung’s waiting hands.

Just as you were raising the shot glasses, Yunho cleared his throat. “Can I get something to drink, beautiful?” He had one arm on the counter, and he leaned forward over it, looking at you with those big brown eyes. You might even be attracted to him if he weren’t so god damn annoying. 

You ignored him, instead, looking back to your friends. Your shot glasses clinked in the center before you all threw them back. 

“Why is he here?” Jihyo asked in a low voice. 

“He can hear you,” Yunho quipped, and you could hear the smirk in his tone without even looking in his direction. “And this is a public bar. You do know that, right?” 

Jihyo pressed her lips into a tight line, glaring at you because she refused to turn around and glare at the source of the problem. 

“What do you want to drink, Yunho?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and attempting to press a smile to your lips. It was your job, after all, to provide good customer service. You couldn’t be the one asking him why he was there or what he wanted from you. At least not when you were on the clock. You would leave those questions to Jihyo and Wooyoung. 

“Do you know how to make an Old Fashioned?” Yunho asked. 

Jihyo did whip around to face him, then. “She’s a bartender, you idiot. She knows how to make an Old Fashioned.” 

That same slow smile crept across his lips. “You’re pretty when you’re mad,” he said, eliciting an immediate groan from Jihyo. 

“Oh my god,” she said. “What is your problem?” 

You looked to Wooyoung, who attempted to hide a laugh with his hand. This was pretty much how it went whenever the three of you were together. You and Wooyoung stopping Jihyo from getting into yelling matches with whoever didn’t agree with her. It was charming, in its own way. 

“It’s fine,” you said, not wanting to make a scene in front of the four other customers in the bar. “Just ignore him. I do.”

You started making the Old Fashion instead, letting Wooyoung and Jihyo get back to their own conversation. All the while, feeling Yunho’s eyes trailing your hands, watching your movements. 

Maybe Jihyo saw your cheeks turning red, or maybe she was just really curious about your love life, because she diverted the conversation away from Yunho, distracting you from his watchful eyes in one swoop. “How are things going with Hongjoong?” she asked. 

You placed the drink in front of Yunho, saying, “Oh, yeah. They’re good,” while making direct eye contact. There was something quizzical in his gaze that you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t ask, and he didn’t voice whatever question it was that plagued his brain. “We’re going out tomorrow night.”

“Third date, right?” Jihyo asked. 

“Mhm,” you said. 

“I hope he puts out,” Wooyoung said, and Yunho choked on his sip, setting the glass down to cough into the collar of his jacket, hiding the redness blooming on his cheeks. 

Your eyes widened at Wooyoung, a pointed glare. 

“What?” he said, unsure why you were looking at him like that. “You’re the one who said it had been a while—”

Jihyo elbowed him in the stomach, and that was the end of that conversation. 

You printed out Yunho’s receipt and placed it on the table in front of him without meeting his eyes. 

“Actually, can I start a tab?” he asked. 

You grabbed the receipt, crumpling it into a ball. Through gritted teeth, you said, “Of course,” taking his card out of his outstretched hand. 

Customers thinned out one at a time for the next several hours, with Jihyo and Wooyoung finally departing a little bit before midnight. But Yunho stayed. 

At 1am, he was still there, watching you clean up from across the bar. 

“So,” he started. 

You threw your head back in exasperation, even though the conversation had hardly begun. You just knew, because it was Yunho, that it was going to be exhausting. 

“You’re dating,” he said. 

It wasn’t what you expected, and it caught you off guard. The way he said it so casually, aloud to the empty bar.

“Is there something strange about that to you?” you asked. “Me dating?” You tried not to go on the defensive. But there was something so inherently cutting about the way he’d said it. Like he couldn’t believe it. Did he think there was something wrong with you? Something fundamentally unlikable? Or were you just projecting?

“No,” he said. “Of course not.”

Silence. Deafening. Your ears had a heartbeat. 

“So, it’s been a while…?” he asked, and that stupid fucking smirk reappeared on his lips, like he was proud of something. 

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” you said. 

“You know, if you don’t remember how to do it, I can give you a crash course,” Yunho suggested, leaning back in his seat. 

“I’ll kill you.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

You took your phone out to check the time, waiting for the numbers to flip forward just enough. When they did, you smiled. “Sorry, we’re actually closed.” You turned to face the register, printing out his receipt. You placed it in a book, then in front of him. 

“You want a ride home?” he asked. 

You couldn’t help the look of surprise that appeared on your face. 

“What?” he asked. “I’m a gentleman.” 

“You are not.” 

“Just because you don’t like me, doesn’t mean I’m not charming,” he said. “So, do you want a ride home or not? It’s cold.” 

He signed the receipt and closed the book. 

You shook your head. “No,” you said. It sounded too firm. “Thanks,” you tacked on. You’d face whatever winter weather you had to in order to get home without his help. 

Yunho stood up, and for some reason, you watched him. You always forgot how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were, until he was standing in front of you. He tossed his leather jacket back on, shoved his hands into his pockets, and left without another word. 

You followed, locking the door behind him. Then, finishing your tasks, you grabbed the book off the counter and pulled out his receipt. On the few drinks he’d ordered, he tipped nearly thirty dollars. And there was a note scrawled across the bottom, too. Sorry for being an ass. You looked at it for a while before putting the tip into the system, storing the receipt, and shutting everything down. 

It was a short walk between the bar and your apartment. Only about ten minutes. There was never any point in getting a car. On weekend nights, you could always count on Jihyo or Wooyoung to bring you home. Other nights, the walk wasn’t so bad. Besides, you kept pepper spray and a knife close at hand in case anyone dared try something with you. It wasn’t masked murderers in the middle of the night that caused a problem, though. 

It was the torrential downpour that came on like a light switch, drenching you in ice-cold rain in seconds. You held one arm above your head as you walked, but it barely shielded you from the storm. 

There were hardly any cars on the road, so when a motorcycle pulled up next to you, you were fairly certain you were about to be kidnapped. 

So when the rider took off his helmet and extended it to you, revealing a quickly drenched Yunho, you couldn’t keep the shock from your face. 

“Come on,” he said. “Get on.” 

“What?” you asked, because your brain wasn’t exactly functioning properly. You didn’t even know he had a motorcycle, and you certainly weren’t going to get on the back of it. 

“Come on,” he said again. “It’s pouring. You’ve made it ten feet. Let me take you home.”

You hated the way he said it, but your clothes were getting heavier as he spoke, so you stepped forward and took it. 

“Isn’t it dangerous?” you asked. “You don’t have another helmet?” 

He shook his head, freeing some of the wet hair that was stuck to his forehead. “Stop talking,” he said. “Just get on.” 

You swung a leg over, keeping your distance from him. “What—how do I?” you asked. 

“Hold on to me,” he said. You hesitated. “Just do it, it’s pouring, if you haven’t noticed, and I’d like to get going.” 

You scooted forward and placed your hands delicately on the sides of his body. One hand at a time, he pulled you forward even more, putting each of your palms on his chest. “You’re such a baby,” he said. “Just hold on to me.” 

“Fine,” you grumbled, pressing your body against his. You hated how large he felt. His back was wide and strong, and his chest felt warm underneath your hands. 

Before you could think about how much you liked being close to him, he started driving. You hardly even had time to worry about him driving without a helmet in the rain before you were pulling into the apartment complex’s garage. 

You were still clutching his chest when he said, “You can let go.” 

“Oh,” you said, not loud enough to be heard through the helmet. You did, however, jump away from him, pulling your arms back and scooting backward before clambering off the bike altogether. 

Your heart raced, and a clamminess had settled on your skin beneath all the layers of drenched clothing. When your hands touched his body—even through his clothes, it felt like being electrocuted. No reason for that could be justified by hatred. But you hated it, still. That he was so hot that just touching him made your body react. You convinced yourself it was purely animalistic. That how much you hated him couldn’t negate how attractive he was. It made you hate him more. 

He turned off the bike and swung a leg over to stand up, reaching a hand out to you. You stared at it for a second too long. “The helmet,” he said. 

Right, you thought. What was making your brain lag behind? Why couldn’t you fucking think straight? Surely it couldn’t be the dripping wet 6’1” man in front of you. 

You took the helmet off and handed it to him. He secured it on the back of the bike, then lifted his hands to grasp his shirt, twisting it. Water fell in droplets onto the floor between you, but your eyes lingered on the patch of exposed skin, the curve of a few abs under the thin shirt. You could barely even process the fact that you were looking, let alone that he looked good. It was only when he cleared his throat that your eyes flicked up to meet his and that stupid smirk that never seemed to fade fully. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said abruptly before taking a few quick steps away toward the elevator. Unfortunately, he followed, slipping inside before the doors could budge. 

Right, you wanted to say. We’re neighbors. At least you wouldn’t have to listen to him engaging in his usual extracurricular activities that night. Unless he magically found some way to get a girl back to his place in the middle of the night. Maybe he could summon one from the internet with the power of dating apps. You didn’t know how he did it, anyway. 

The elevator immediately felt small, the ride up to your floor longer than it had ever been. Every time you looked up, he was trying to find your eyes, watching you intently. But neither did he say anything—and of course, you kept quiet too. Kept actively trying not to look at him. But you were curious, and you couldn’t help yourself sometimes. Because who was this man? This man who grated on your nerves and got under your skin and was so god damn annoying, but also left you big tips with nice notes and drove you home from work in the rain? This man who was absolutely gorgeous, whose body you wanted to touch again?

“You seem like you’re panicking,” he said.

“What?” you asked, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He leaned casually against the railing in the elevator, watching you with his hands in his pockets. “I’m not panicking. Why would I be panicking?” you asked, but it was immediately too defensive, too much talking. 

He raised a brow, nodding almost imperceptibly. “Right,” he said. “All things someone who isn’t panicking would say.” He kicked off the wall, striding toward you, only to stop a few inches short. 

“What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Just trying to figure you out,” he said. 

“I don’t need figuring out,” you said. 

“Really?” he asked. He reached out, then, because he couldn’t help it. Because he wanted to touch you. His hand skimmed your bicep, and you shivered. He leaned forward. “Are you sure you don’t like me?” 

“Yes,” you said, through gritted teeth, trying to sound as sure of yourself as you possibly could. 

This only elicited a smile and a dry laugh from Yunho. “You don’t sound sure.” 

“I could kiss you, and I would still feel absolutely nothing,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. Who was he to question your feelings, especially when all you’d ever given him were snarky comments and sass? Did he think a few longing looks at his abs equated true desire?

“Prove it,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Kiss me,” he said. 

Later that night, when you struggled to sleep—you’d argue with yourself about the reasons. You’d say it was a matter of impulse. A desire to prove him wrong. But there would be something in the back of your head, too, a nagging, whispering like the devil on your shoulder—you did it because you wanted to. 

When you stepped forward and stood on your toes, you weren’t thinking about any of that. 

It was a challenge, and you weren’t one to back down. Simple as that. 

The kiss started soft. Yunho took a moment to react, his lips still against yours for only a second before he stepped forward into you, forcing you backward into the wall. His hands moved, first grabbing your upper arms, then the sides of your face as he tilted your head back to deepen it—slipping a tongue between your lips. 

You didn’t hold back. Your hands gripped the zippered edges of his jacket, pulling him toward you needlessly. 

The kiss was not kind or soft, but passionate and aggressive, like something pent up was spilling out for everyone to see. 

Only the ding of the elevator reaching your floor was enough to separate you. You pulled away, letting your hands drop from his jacket as your thumb came up to wipe away some inevitably smeared lipstick—probably worse than you could save with a simple action, anyway. 

“See,” you said, rolling your shoulders back. “Nothing.” 

Then, you slipped out from under his grasp and walked out of the elevator, trying to keep your pace even and calm until you were inside your apartment, breathing heavily with your back against the door. 

Yunho turned to watch you leave, but didn’t follow. Instead, he stood stock still in the center of the elevator, fingers touching his lips, until the doors started to close. 

“You what?” Jihyo asked. She leaned against the door frame as you dusted blush across your cheekbones. 

You hadn’t exactly planned on telling her—or anyone—what happened, but it just slipped out. There weren’t really words to explain the situation. You couldn’t figure out why you’d done it, anyway. He’d tested you, and you weren’t one to back away from a dare. You wanted him to know, for certain, that he had no chance with you. 

But why, then, had it been so difficult to stop thinking about him? 

“I don’t know,” you said, because they were the only words bubbling to the surface in your otherwise Yunho-occupied mind. The heat of his lips on yours, the way his hands roamed all over your skin. You were starting to understand why the women he shared a bed with sang his praises all night long. 

“Well—why? How?” she asked. “When?” 

When you didn’t respond right away, Jihyo’s eyes widened expectantly, waiting for you to reveal all the dirty details of the situation. 

With a sigh, you put down the brush and turned, leaning against the sink. “He gave me a ride home last night, after my shift.”

“He stayed that late?” 

“Yes,” you said. “And I thought it was just to get on my nerves—but I don’t know. He left me a big tip and apologized for being such an ass.”

“He what?” 

“He left a note on his check. Sorry for being an ass,” you explained. 

“And then he kissed you?” Jihyo asked, one brow raised. 

You shook your head. “No. He left. I started walking home. It was cold. It started raining. Yunho found me. I don’t know how. Maybe he was waiting. I don’t know. He gave me a ride home on his motorcycle, by the way.” 

“You got on a motorcycle with Yunho?” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Is that so unbelievable?” 

“A little bit, yeah,” she commented. 

“Anyway, it’s pouring. He drives me home. We’re in the elevator on the way up, and he just accuses me of looking at him differently.” 

“Were you?” Jihyo asked. 

“Hm?” 

“Were you looking at him differently?” she clarified. 

“Oh.” You hesitated. “Of course not. But I don’t know what I was thinking. The words just kind of came out. I said something along the lines of, I could kiss you and still feel nothing.” You, of course, did remember the exact words you’d spoken—but you were trying to be aloof. Trying to pretend that it wasn’t affecting you. 

You weren’t very good at it. And besides. Jihyo could always see through your bullshit. 

“And then he told me to prove it,” you said, your voice a bit smaller than before, ashamed of the act so many hours past it. An entire night's sleep and you still couldn’t believe you’d actually done it. You should have just laughed in his face. Should have ignored him, like you always did. 

“So you did,” Jihyo said. 

“So I did,” you echoed. 

“But you felt something,” she said. 

“But I felt something.” Your stomach flipped. You turned away from Jihyo, facing the mirror again, your hands gripping the edge. “And I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Jihyo, ever the pragmatic, said, “Well, stop thinking about it. He’s an asshole, remember.” 

You weren’t naive to believe that his apology truly fixed anything. Besides, maybe this was the long con. Step one: apologize. Step two: get you on the back of his bike. Step three: kiss you in the elevator? Then what? 

Who would he send over to kick you out in the morning? Some other neighbor? 

It wasn’t feasible, these thoughts. They couldn’t go anywhere. It almost made it worse—that they just had to stay in your head. Trapped. Because acting on them, well, it was a fucking horrible idea. And he was probably just playing with you, anyway. That’s what he did. 

“I remember,” you grumbled. 

“Do you remember Hongjoong?” she asked, and you could see the way she smiled reflected in the mirror. Pointed, obvious in the point she was conveying. 

You picked up a lip gloss and ran the wand over your lips. “I didn’t cancel the date, did I?” you said. “I’m wearing a cute outfit. I’m going.” 

Jihyo smiled. “Okay. Good.” 

“You know, you can be really judgmental,” you said, a hint of a laugh escaping between words. 

“That’s why you love me.” She smiled big and wide. “Now have fun tonight. That’s an order. And try to get laid, for the love of god.”

You were standing in front of your door, a little bit tipsy, trying to unlock it, when the one down the hall popped open. You couldn’t help the groan that fell from your lips, knowing just who was going to appear in front of you in no time at all. 

He took his time. You had to give him that. He leaned against the door frame to his own apartment for a little while, watching you struggle. Which was annoying in its own way—but at least it was from a distance. 

The distance didn’t last. He got closer. 

You held up a hand in his direction. “No,” you said. You weren’t drunk enough that your words were slurring, just tipsy enough to say exactly what was on your mind. A dangerous thing, considering what was on your mind lately regarding the man in the hallway. “You stay over there.”

Thankfully, you got the key to work, letting the door to your apartment swing inward. Yunho was faster, though, and more determined. He caught it with one hand before it could slam closed. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and those weren’t the words you expected to come out of his mouth. They weren’t suggestive or annoying. He actually seemed genuine. Had you ever met a more confusing man? One who could flip back and forth between strange softness and playful humor faster than you could process it? 

He wore black jeans, the same leather jacket he basically lived in. His near-black hair fell just past his eyebrows, only partially obscuring brown eyes that met your gaze. There was a slight crease between his brows, like he was just as confused as you were about the state of his personality—about the way he was acting toward you. 

“Yes,” you said. Yunho closed the door gently behind him. “And you can’t just invite yourself into my apartment whenever you want.” 

“Date didn’t go well, I take it?” he asked, that playful tone coming back at half power. The smirk that appeared put in a lot of work. 

You pressed your lips into a tight line, gritting your teeth. You couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks as you grew embarrassed. Any normal person wouldn’t have commented on the fact that you’d come home alone after a third date—especially after your friends announced so loudly your desire to get laid. 

“Can we not do this right now?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as if to cover some of your obvious discomfort. 

“You know,” he said, taking another step closer to you. You didn’t move. Of course you didn’t. You wanted him closer, even if you wanted to pretend otherwise. And ultimately, your body beat out your mind the moment he intruded upon your personal space. “The offer still stands.” 

Your brain wasn’t working. “What offer?” you bit out. 

He didn’t touch you, but his hands might as well have been all over your body with how hot you felt. “You know—if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be with someone.” 

It was enough to make you take a much-needed step back, sobering you some. “Oh my god, get a grip, Yunho.” 

He just laughed. It wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just another joke, another way to get under your skin. 

You steeled yourself for the lie you needed to speak aloud, to really get the point across. “I don’t want you. I’ll never want you. I like my men with a little more… dignity.” 

For a split second, you were certain you’d hurt his feelings. His eyes softened, and his shoulders lowered. But then he was back to smiling again, acting like it hadn’t affected him in the slightest. 

When had this turned from him asking you if you were okay to him propositioning you again? And why had you wanted to say yes? If it weren’t for the voice of Jihyo playing in the back of your head, reminding you that he was an asshole—over and over again—you might have let it happen. You were feeling just dejected enough, anyway. 

Hongjoong had basically rejected you. It was rightful, too, since you’d barely paid attention to him during your date. Your mind had been on other things. Other people. And besides, there’d been no spark. He didn’t push your buttons. He didn’t make you laugh. 

“Really, though,” Yunho said, taking a more serious tone again—enough to give you whiplash. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you said. 

“You don’t seem fine,” Yunho said. 

“If I needed a friend, I’d call Jihyo. Or Wooyoung.” 

Again, that look of hurt. Like he’d been struck. 

“Right,” he said. “Obviously.” He took a step away from you, toward the door. “Sorry.” You were too stunned to speak. “I’ll see you later.”

When you woke up the next morning, there was no woman to escort out of Yunho’s apartment. Your apartment sat empty. Quiet. It continued like that for several days. Nearly a week. You let Jihyo and Wooyoung talk you out of going over there, of making sure everything was okay with him. That he hadn’t died or moved out or something. 

No matter what excuses you made up, however, you still couldn’t get him out of your head. Even when he wasn’t around to bother you. You found yourself hoping to catch him around a corner, in the elevator, or by his bike in the parking garage. You didn’t. 

He was strangely absent. 

Not only that, but his apartment was quiet, too. 

That should have resulted in better sleep, but you found yourself awake for other reasons, staring at the ceiling. You could find any reason to doubt yourself. Maybe you’d been too quick to judge him. The way his face had fallen the last time you spoke haunted you. Eyes open or closed, you could still see the ghost of his disappointment. The soft tenor of his voice and the way he sounded so genuine. 

Convincing yourself that it was a fluke did not help. 

And somehow, you always ended up back in that elevator, his lips hot on yours. 

Yunho was hot. Of course, he was. You had never questioned that fact. You had explicitly tried to ignore it. But he wasn’t your type. He liked to push your buttons, get under your skin. He didn’t respect basic boundaries. 

Now, he was gone. The firm boundary you’d put in place was being respected, and you found yourself being the one who wanted to cross it. 

Maybe that was growth. Or maybe it was all a part of Yunho’s grand scheme to get in your pants. If you thought about it for too long, you could believe anything. It was the only the long con, a way of getting to you by disappearing when you were finally interested—or, it was the first genuine thing he’d ever done. 

And it made you feel bad. 

Something shot through your nervous system, a realization that you didn’t want to make eye contact. You missed him.

It was nearly a week later when you spotted his door clicking shut just as you were leaving to run a few errands. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you. But after all the times he’d barged in uninvited, you figure it was okay to intrude on his space just once. Walking the short distance from your door to his, however, did cause a strange anxiety to settle in next to your heart, tucked away in your ribcage. A thrumming that whispered, “What are you doing? Why are you doing it?” over and over again. 

It didn’t stop you from raising your hand to tap your knuckles against the door. 

When Yunho opened the door, he looked a little worse for wear. His hair was fluffier than usual, sticking up in places like he’d spent the last seven days running his hands through it. He looked you up and down. A smile appeared on his lips, but it wasn’t the same as the proud one you’d grown used to. He didn’t say anything, just watched you. 

“Hey,” you said. Attempting to be casual didn’t exactly suit you. 

“Hey?” he repeated. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Hey.” You tried to meet his gaze, but his eyes kept moving away, finding something else to look at whenever you got close. 

He had one hand on the door, holding it open. It would be easier that way, to close it whenever he needed to. Because he wanted to look at you. He wanted to meet your gaze. But there was this ball of anger in the pit of his stomach, too. A tightly wound piece of hatred. Not for you, of course. He couldn’t hate you. No. He hated himself. And he would never say it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you—but he hated himself for being someone you didn’t want. 

But all he could do was look past your eyes and force a smile. 

Unfortunately, the hatred he felt toward himself manifested as anger. “Do you need something?” 

The sharpness in his tone sliced straight through you. “What?” 

“You made it clear you don’t want me,” he said. 

“Well—” you stammered. “That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“You have Jihyo and Wooyoung, right? That’s what you said.” He paused and finally met your eyes. Something crossed his face. “Besides, I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Oh,” you said. The anxiety tucked away in your chest blossomed, and your heart began to race. This was a mistake, then. At least you could leave and pretend it never happened. Why then, were you so frozen solid to the spot in front of his door? Why couldn’t you just turn and walk away? Why could you feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the heat of his palms on your arms? Why couldn’t you look away? 

“You’re afraid to admit it, but I’m not,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, gentle tone once more. The one you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The one that floated through your dreams like a melody. “I like you.” 

Your lips parted. He leaned forward to look at you on eye level, studying you. He didn’t touch you, just let his eyes bore into yours. It was far too intimate than your racing heart could take. 

“You think I’m all bad,” he said. “I’m not. Let me take you out sometime. I’ll prove it to you.” The corners of his lips turned up in a small smile. Hopeful. 

It was your own self-hatred, your own uncertainty, your own self-consciousness, your own fear, that made you say what you did. “I can’t,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. And that’s what broke you. Not the rejection, but the acceptance. The way his smile turned firm as he stood straight up and stepped away from you, moving to close the door just as you turned to flee. 

Several days passed, but even the passage of time didn’t make you feel any better. 

“It’s good,” Jihyo said. “I don’t trust him.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung echoed. “Me either.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, either, given how much you’d been thinking about it. About him. Even your thoughts felt selfish. Because you could have him, if you really wanted to. If you really wanted to have him, you could walk over to his apartment and tell him that. 

But something held you back. 

The fear, mostly. 

The thought that you would just end up like all the other girls he’d engaged in one-night stands with. You weren’t exactly a one-night stand kind of girl. Or, at least, you weren’t certain that was what you wanted from Yunho. You didn’t know what you wanted. Maybe that was the scariest part. 

“You didn’t see the look on his face,” you said, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. 

It was Wooyoung who eventually said. “If you like him, I guess I don’t really see what the problem is.”

“The problem is he has a different girl over every night,” Jihyo commented. 

“Not every night. Besides, he hasn’t in a while,” you said, which earned you a look from Jihyo. “What? The walls are thin. I can hear everything.”

“Maybe he’s a changed man,” Wooyoung commented. 

“Doubt it,” Jihyo said. 

You could only shrug. “I don’t know. I hardly know him, anyway.” You let out a long, deep breath. “I’ll get over it eventually. So will he. I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few weeks. Maybe we’ll even laugh about it.”

Hours later, when Jihyo and Wooyoung finally left your apartment—you stood at the door, waiting for them to get on the elevator. An old habit. Like making sure they got home safe. The elevator doors opened, and Yunho stepped out. You only saw him at first. 

Then, you saw her. The girl hanging off his arm. Laughing. Smiling. 

Jihyo shot you a look, but you shook your head. It was fine. You didn’t need them coming to your rescue over a man you’d rejected. They got into the elevator and disappeared. You tried to close your door fast, but Yunho spotted you first. You just barely caught him raising a few fingers in a wave, a smile on his lips, before the hastily shut door separated you both. 

Something bloomed in your chest, hot and angry. You’d seen him with other women before. Countless times, in fact. You’d heard them through your walls, escorted them out afterward. And you’d never been angry at anything other than the inconvenience. 

But now the anger flushed your system of coherent thoughts. The tips of your ears turned red as you rested your forehead against the closed door. This wasn’t anger. As much as you wanted to believe it, manifest it into being so—it was so much worse. 

Jealousy. 

It made your skin crawl, the realization. You were jealous. And the worst part was that you had no right to be. He had offered you the same thing he gave all those girls, and you’d turned him down. So why now, did you have your head resting on the door and your eyes squeezed tight? Maybe it wasn’t just jealousy, but anger too. 

Anger at your own poor decision-making skills. Anger at Yunho for—what exactly? Moving on? You were the one who’d been adamant that there was absolutely nothing between you. He’d shot his shot and failed. Had you expected him to retire from the little game he played every weekend? 

You tried to remind yourself what would have happened if you’d gone out with him. That he wasn’t relationship material. That he didn’t want you like you wanted him. 

Fuck. You wanted him. 

You wanted him, and it made you feel like an idiot. 

Is that how everyone who ended up in his bed felt? Confused and annoyed, angry with his charming personality and his ability to sweep pretty much anyone off their feet without really even trying? 

And when had this happened, anyway? He’d moved in a few months ago. You’d been tolerating his presence since—and then things just, well, shifted. 

It didn’t even matter if you ended up as just another one-night stand—you wanted to be in his bed, underneath him, no matter what the outcome was. It was that thought that pulled you away from the door and sent you into the bedroom, diving under the covers and attempting to think about anything other than what was possibly going on in the next room over. 

Damn his stupid motorcycle and the way his shirt, damp with rain and sweat, had stuck to his skin. Damn his stupid, charming smile that shifted between snarky and kind. Damn his everything, every detail that made you look twice, that had you second-guessing every moment, every interaction. 

It was even worse, knowing that he wanted you, too. Knowing that he wanted you, and that you could have just had him, if you weren’t such an idiot. 

And so you oscillated back and forth like that for a while—between being annoyed at yourself for rejecting him and at him for being so charming and so untrustworthy at the same time. 

It went on like that for some time before you eventually fell asleep to thoughts of walking down the hall and throwing the door open, to grabbing him and kissing him—before your mind eventually decided being awake no longer served you. 

Unfortunately, when morning came, it wasn’t with a new, refreshed mind. 

Instead, more thoughts swarmed, and before you could stop and think about what you were doing, you were standing in the hallway outside Yunho’s apartment in your pajamas. 

It wasn’t until you raised your hand to knock that you realized exactly where you were. 

Yunho must have sensed it. The door swung open, and there he was, standing there with that somewhat charming, somewhat obnoxious smile on his face, looking at you like this—whatever you were doing—was, in fact, completely normal behavior. 

He looked just out of bed, messy hair and plaid pajama pants. A white shirt that clung to him and a loose robe overtop. One hand held a mug of coffee, and he leaned against the door frame in such a casual manner as you glanced him over, trying to figure out some excuse for why you’d shown up at his door. 

“Good morning,” he said. There was a coldness to his voice. Something absent from his tone that you didn’t want to linger on. Like he was distancing himself from you. 

Words failed you. 

“I—” you started. You took a step forward, nearly into his body. He didn’t yield against you, instead holding firm in the door frame. You tried to look over his shoulder to see if the girl was still present. Did he not want your help escorting her out?

The smile that fell on his lips was slow, and you watched him figure you out in record time. 

“Looking for someone?” he asked, that cold tone growing warmer, charm seeping back into his words, that familiar enjoyment. A cat playing with a mouse. 

You took a step back. “No.” 

“Seems like you are.” 

“I’m not,” you said, but you weren’t able to keep the defensive note from your voice. It was so painstakingly clear to both of you why you were there and what you were looking for. It became a game, then, of who would concede the space first. Who would give up. You could easily admit your lie, but there was no pride in that. And Yunho, well, he could just as easily call you out on it, but that didn’t seem like the path he wanted to take, either. 

Instead, it turned into a standoff of words loaded into guns and backs turned. Paces counted before firing. Eye contact, before your gaze dropped to his lips, and the slow smile crawling across turned into a smirk of victory undeserved. 

“I just thought you might want my help,” you said, cocking your head back and crossing your arms. A feeble attempt to gain some ground. 

“I don’t,” he said. Sharp. You hated that the simple words cut, even though you would have claimed to hate said help only a week prior. 

“You don’t,” you repeated. 

Your cursed brain. He’d found someone else. Someone else to break the streak of one-night stand girls. He’d found someone else, and it was too late, and you’d ruined everything out of pure indecisiveness and misguided advice. 

Maybe he wasn’t even such a bad guy. 

Maybe your vision had been clouded by jealousy from the very beginning. 

Yunho stepped away from the door, walking deeper into the apartment. You hesitated. He brought down another mug and filled it, pushing it in your direction and eying you to take it. 

“You know,” he said. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

Your brows drew together as you watched him, sipping his coffee and looking over the cup at you, still standing in the hallway. 

“I’m not—” you started, but he just laughed. “I’m really not.” 

“Then why are you here?” he asked, the genuine nature of his voice catching you off guard. “You already rejected me, remember?” 

Your feet carried you into his apartment. You closed the door behind you. 

“I remember,” you said. You stopped across from him and reached over to pick up the mug of coffee, the kitchen island separating you. You looked over your shoulder, eyes wandering toward the open door of his bedroom. 

“You’re funny,” he said. 

“What?” you asked, eyes snapping back to him. 

“There’s no one here,” Yunho said. He set his coffee mug down on the counter and walked closer to you. “And whatever you’re trying to do—you’re not very good at it.”

He reached up and took the coffee mug out of your hands, placing it on the counter next to his. 

“There’s no one here,” you said, repeating his words back to him for the second time. It was easier than finding new ones to say. 

He rolled his eyes, but the annoyance didn’t reach his lips. No, those still held that same pleased smile, like he knew something you didn’t. 

Yunho reached out, closing the distance between you, to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. He looked down at you with a gaze you couldn’t place. Something between admiration and lust. His fingers trailed down your jaw and hooked under your chin. 

His touch froze you. You could only blink and watch, your gaze darting between his mouth and his eyes. 

“Are you jealous?” he asked, holding your chin and looking at you carefully. 

“I don’t know,” you said, because that was the truth. All the thoughts in your mind were jumbled, and nothing made sense when it came to him. 

He raised one brow, skeptical. “Did you need to borrow something?” he asked. “Or yell at me because the TV was too loud?” 

“No,” you said. 

“Then why did you come over?” he asked. He led you toward the answer, walked you there while holding your chin and making sure you kept your eyes trained on his. His voice was gentle, but stern—and you knew he wouldn’t relent until you gave him the truth. 

You sighed, and this small act of giving up only made the corners of his lips turn up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you said. His lips parted in shock. Because he’d been expecting an admission regarding your jealousy, not the way that he raced through your mind all night. But you kept going, anyway. “And I didn’t mean to come over, I mean—I guess I did. But I left my apartment, and then here I was—and I wasn’t even going to knock, but you opened the door, and then all I could think about was whether or not you had a girl over.” 

His hand slipped from your chin to lay flat against the side of your head, his palm on your cheek and his fingers dipping into your hair. 

Your heart raced faster as his eyes dropped to your lips, and your first kiss played on a loop over and over again until you were stepping closer to him, lifting a hand to touch the one on your cheek. 

He inched closer too, until your bodies were almost touching. 

Yunho’s eyes met yours, then flicked downward. Up and back. Your eyes followed the same pattern, and you moved closer, closer, a centimeter at a time, until his lips were on yours again and everything agonizingly slow kicked into full speed. 

His other hand came up to cup your other cheek as he kissed you slowly. It wasn’t the abrupt, intense heat of the kiss you shared in the elevator, but a soft, molten kiss that sent your nerves firing. 

When he pulled away, it was only a half an inch, barely enough to keep you from recapturing his lips and stopping whatever sentence whirred to life behind hazy eyes. “That’s what I wanted our first kiss to be like,” he said. 

“I liked our first kiss,” you said, without really thinking. 

He dropped his forehead against yours. “Me too.” 

“I liked the second too.” But you didn’t let yourself reach out again, not with the last thought that nagged at the back of your mind. “What about the girl—your date last night?” 

“She didn’t stay long. I couldn’t stop thinking about my neighbor.” He put a half-step’s worth of space between you. 

“How annoying,” you said, laughing under your breath. 

“Yeah, she really is,” he teased. “Kinda hot, though.” 

“Kinda?” you asked, raising a brow at him. 

“Okay, insanely,” Yunho said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So hot she’s driven me mad since the day I moved in. Is that what you want to hear?” 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Yes.” 

“Now will you let me take you out?” he asked. 

You hadn’t thought about what would happen after you stormed over to his apartment without invitation, nor what would happen after his lips were on yours. You thought he would try something more, but he kept his distance—asked about dates instead. 

“You look shocked,” he said. 

“I’m not,” you said, and he chuckled under his breath. Apparently, you were easier to read than you thought, or maybe he was just good at knowing what you were thinking. Somehow, that wasn’t as annoying as it used to be. 

“Not jealous, not shocked…” he trailed off. “Not very good at lying, either.” 

“I just didn’t think dating was really your thing,” you said. 

He placed a hand to his heart in mock hurt. “You wound me,” he said. “I’m a romantic at heart, you’ll see.”

“Oh, will I?” you asked, “From what I’ve heard, it doesn’t sound like romance.” You tilted your head to the side, looking up at him, watching for the reaction. 

His brows lifted a hair. “You’ve been listening.” 

“The walls are thin, Yunho.” 

“And that’s why you’re jealous?” he asked, reaching out to poke your cheek. “Because of what you’ve been hearing?” 

“No,” you stammered, a crinkle developing between your brows in irritation. 

“I can’t figure you out,” he said. “You think I’m this big player, right? But you’re also up at night with your ear to the wall trying to listen in so—I think you might be the real freak, here.” 

You slapped his arm playfully. “I am not.” 

“We’ll see,” he said, continuing before you could get a word in, “Let me take you out tonight.”

“I’m working,” you said. 

“Tomorrow night.”

You pretended to ponder the availability of your schedule. Since your minor situationship with Hongjoong fizzled out, you hadn’t had plans with anyone but Jihyo and Wooyoung. And they wouldn’t mind a night off from having to listen to your problems. Maybe you’d get an earful from Jihyo about how you were choosing to spend the night, instead, but Wooyoung would come around. 

“Tomorrow night,” you confirmed. 

It was strange how quickly everything turned over in your mind. Maybe you were naive, but one kiss and you’d started to see him differently. That voice that nagged in the back of your mind, reminding you that maybe he was like this with all the girls he brought back, had disappeared completely. Instead, you found ways to justify it all. There was nothing wrong with sleeping around, anyway. 

You’d had more active times in your life, too. And no one had judged you for that, well, experimentation. 

He watched the cogs turn behind your eyes. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“Just trying to figure you out, is all.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, rethinking whatever it was he wanted to say. It seemed like you were both playing the same game—trying to understand the other without giving too much away, without making a big deal out of something that hadn’t gone anywhere, yet. 

“So,” you said. A blanket of silence suddenly fell between you, the awkward air of the kiss settling on your shoulders, and the future plans made. 

“So,” Yunho said, much cooler, calmer, than you had. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Definitely.” 

You took a step back, but he reached out to grab your hand before you could get too far. He held it, not too tight, but not exactly with a gentle grasp, either. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “Really.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Me too,” before disappearing from his apartment. By the time you were back home, your palms were sweating. 

Was this a horrible idea? And if it was, why did you want it so badly?

The next 36 hours went by at an unimaginably slow pace. In that time, you managed to spend a good several more hours overthinking, at least thirty minutes on the phone with Jihyo, convincing her that this was, maybe, a good idea, actually, and the rest of the time panicking about your ability to make decisions regarding your love life. 

“It doesn’t have to be anything,” Jihyo said at the end of the call, after retiring her role as devil’s advocate. “It was just a kiss, right? And it’s just a date.” 

“Maybe I want it to be something,” you said. “That’s what scares me. What if he doesn’t?” 

You could hear her shrug over the line. “Guess you’ll have to ask him.”

Wooyoung chimed in from over Jihyo’s shoulder. “Besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen, anyway? You find out if the sex is good, and then he stops showing up at your apartment without permission?” 

You pinched your nose between your thumb and forefinger. “Neither of you are helpful,” you said. 

Hours after the call, however, you couldn’t help but admit that Wooyoung’s words were true. This was a sexual attraction. Yunho was sexy. He had a confusing charm to him that you never understood, and a contagious smile. He was goofy, good at video games, and fun to bicker with—but you didn’t really know him, did you? 

So you decided that’s what the date would be for. 

You’d get to know him. Decide exactly what you wanted. And if that was just sex, well. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, right? Maybe fucking him would get him out of your head, too. Though, you had a feeling that probably wouldn’t be the case. 

By the time eight o’clock rolled around, you were standing in your bedroom, looking in the floor-length mirror, still attempting to determine exactly which outfit was right for the date. 

You’d never been this nervous for a date before. 

It was just a date. Yunho was just a man. 

The knock at the door, however, sent your heart into your stomach—so maybe you were just lying to yourself. Either way, it wasn’t working. 

You smoothed your hands down the front of your shirt, over the sides of your skirt. Was there time to change? He was on the other side of the door, and still, you didn’t feel exactly right. Almost like you were wearing a costume, something to impress him, but not something that was really you. 

The nerves were getting to you, and all you had to do was just open the door. 

Open the door, and he would be there, staring back at you. You knew exactly what he would look like, too. Leather jacket, permanent smirk curling up the corners of his lips, knowing brown eyes scanning you. It was a comfort, almost, this knowing. 

But still, you were frozen. 

Like opening the door was some kind of test of your own nature. He was the same, steady. Predictable. But you? Was he on the other side of the door, telling himself the same thing, that you were there—familiar?

What if he didn’t like this version of you? The one who had spent hours trying to figure out how to look just right, for him. The one wearing a skirt, the one who was excited about the date, who had gotten her hopes up. 

What if he had only ever liked you because you didn’t like him?

You rubbed your temples, trying to quiet the ever-existing anxiety that stirred behind your eyes, a reminder that this was something you fucking cared about, which only made the whole thing worse. You cared, which meant you could screw it up. You could screw it up, and it would hurt. 

“You gonna open the door?” Yunho asked from the hall. He had this weird ability to read your mind, to sense when you were nearby. Like he knew some part of you that even you couldn’t see. 

You opened the door halfway through an eye roll. 

And there he was. 

He looked nothing like you’d imagined in your head. His leather jacket was missing, replaced by a black suit jacket with a white button-up underneath, a skinny black tie cut down the middle. Though you could barely see his torso behind the bouquet of flowers he held in one arm. 

Yunho’s eyes stayed glued to yours. They didn’t wander, as yours did. But that slow smile did crawl across his lips as you took him in, this different version of him. 

“Are those for me?” you asked, looking at the arrangement of tulips and baby’s breath. 

He took a step closer to you, dropping his free hand around your shoulders to place a kiss atop your head, into your hair. It was immediately overwhelming, being in his presence again, especially after so many hours of trying to pretend that he had no effect on you. 

Well, there that effect was. The way your heart immediately beat faster, your nervous system racing into high alert, goosebumps rising on your forearms. You would think that something was truly wrong, the way your body reacted. Like this was something to run away from. But coupled with the feeling of ignition—the warmth of him being close started a fire somewhere deep within you—there was no chance you would run away. 

“Do you have a vase I can put these in?” he said, answering your arguably dumb question as he took a step away from you. 

You moved out of the way, letting him step into your apartment. A place familiar to him. Some place he’d basically broken into over and over again. He moved through it like it belonged to him, walking into the kitchen to grab a vase from under the sink. He filled it with water and placed the bouquet inside, leaving it on the counter. 

“You seem nervous,” he commented as he trimmed away the plastic wrapping with a pair of scissors he’d also known the location of. 

Your arms were crossed over your chest, not in disappointment or contempt, but because you had to hold onto something to steady yourself. Your fingers dug into your biceps only slightly, but he must have caught that, too. 

Or maybe he was just so used to the inner workings of your mind, your body, that he could sense these differences too. 

You had no idea he paid so much attention. 

“I’m not,” you said. But even a stranger would have known you were lying. 

He peeled away the rest of the crinkling plastic and put it in the trash, snipping the rubber band on the bouquet and letting the flowers fall outward. 

“They’re pretty,” you said, as if that could distract from your nerves and his commentary on them. “Thank you.” 

You kept your distance from him, standing just outside the kitchen while he worked. But once finished, he strode toward you again. He stopped just short, not opting to reach for you, just looking. 

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You sure you’re okay?” 

You cleared your throat as you nodded. “Mhm.” 

He could only chuckle under his breath. You were standing so straight, holding yourself so tightly. He did reach out, then, peeling one of your hands away from your arm to hold it. He laced his fingers between yours. 

Yunho’s hands were large and warm, and they didn’t serve to ground you any. 

Oh god. What was happening to you? 

You tried to remind yourself of everything you’d said earlier. This was just a date. Yunho was just a man. A really, really fucking hot man. And a man who drove you absolutely insane. A man who knew how to kiss. 

“You ready to go?” he asked, eyes flicked downward, watching your joined hands. He couldnt’t believe it either—was just better at keeping his cool—that this was actually happening. That you’d agreed to it. 

“Yes,” you said, and the pair of you walked out of your apartment together. He made eyes at you in the elevator. 

Were you both thinking about the same thing? The upward quirk of his smile was enough to make you think yes. 

“You are nervous,” Yunho commented as the doors to the lobby slid open. 

“Shut up,” you said. “I’m not.”

He held his free hand up in defense. “Not a very nice way to talk to your date.”

You shot a glare in his direction, but it wasn’t very threatening when paired with the smile gracing your lips. 

He squeezed your hand. “Why?” 

“Why, what?” you asked. 

“Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” you said again, but this time the pointed look was from him. And frankly, it was deserved. “Shut up,” you said again, as the two of you stepped outside. “I’m not nervous, you’re nervous.”

“I’m a little nervous,” he said. 

He kept your hand in his as you walked. He didn’t tell you where you were going, and you didn’t ask. 

“What?” you asked. “The Jeong Yunho, nervous? Haven’t you done this like a million times?”

“Yeah, but never with you,” he said, which only made heat rise to your cheeks. 

You were still not used to this version of Yunho. The charming one. The complement to the snarky asshole who’s been appearing in your apartment for the past several months. 

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you asked, diverting the conversation from compliments that made your skin turn pink. 

“We’re almost there,” he said. 

There were so many other questions flying through your head, but it was so much harder to form words around him, now. It was easier before, when all those words were full of frustration and anger, when you were making fun of him or reacting to his torment. When he was being kind to you, it only left you speechless and on uneven footing. 

Thankfully, he was right. In only a few minutes of walking, you arrived at a small Italian bistro. A place you’d seen a hundred times on walks home from work, but never stopped into. It wasn’t exactly a bartender’s salary kind of place, unless you wanted to blow an entire month’s food budget on delicious gnocchi. Which, honestly, you’d thought about plenty of times before. 

Booths lined the walls with tables in the center, spread out and quiet, each with its own warm candlelight in the middle, its own dangling chandelier in the center. The tables were preset with wine glasses and cutlery. 

He gave his name at the host stand, and the two of you followed her to a table. Yunho’s hand settled on your lower back as you walked. 

Only the thin layer of your shirt stopped the electricity from knocking you out, dulling it to a mild spark instead. You slid into a booth opposite him. 

The host rattled off some wine specials. 

“Whatever you suggest,” Yunho said, smiling warmly at the woman. 

She disappeared momentarily, then returned with a bottle of red wine with a name you didn’t know how to pronounce. She filled up your glasses, then left the bottle behind. 

“So,” Yunho said, picking up his glass to look at you over it. “I should have said this already, but you look really nice tonight.”

“Don’t,” you said, a knee-jerk reaction to his complimenting. “I mean—”

“You know this is a date, right?” he teased. “You agreed to go on a date with me.”

You laughed under your breath, covering your mouth with your hand. “Sorry,” you said, trying not to laugh. “Still trying to get used to you being like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, one brow raised. 

“Oh, come on. You know like what,” you fired back. You lifted your glass of wine too and took a small sip. It was delicious. Deep and dry. 

He set his wine glass down and leaned slightly forward with both elbows on the table, trying to get closer to you. He tilted his head to the side, watching you curiously. “I don’t,” he said. 

“All charming and nice,” you said. 

“I think I’ve always been charming and nice,” Yunho said. 

You shake your head, taking another sip of your wine to hide the fact that the smile won’t fade from your lips—that being around him made you smile, now. “That’s not true, and you know it, Yunho.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Please,” you said. “You can’t pretend that for the last several months you haven’t been trying to get on my last nerve.”

He pursed his lips like he was really, actually taking the time to think about it. “Maybe I just like getting you all hot and bothered,” he said, finally. 

“Wasn’t hot,” you said. “Just bothered.”

“And now?” Yunho asked, leaning even further over the table, as if making direct eye contact would allow him to glean every secret you ever had. 

“Still just bothered, I think,” you teased, lifting your glass to your lips. 

Yunho leaned back in his seat, picking up his own glass and smiling smugly to himself. “I do like a challenge.”

When the waitress came over to ask about starting courses, you were still looking at one another, like you were both trying to place exactly what was going on, exactly what all of it meant. Yunho looked at you like he was trying to read your mind, trying to figure out what you thought about him, and you looked at him like you were trying to piece together a complex puzzle, trying to figure out what he wanted from you. 

It was Yunho who broke eye contact first, who glanced over at the waitress, who ordered a few starters for the table. 

When she walked away, you were still looking at him, watching. Studying, almost. Like you could glean something in the way he talked to others, in whether he chose bruschetta or burrata. 

“So,” he said, lowering his empty glass back to the table. 

“So,” you mirrored. 

It occurred to you then that you knew almost nothing about him, aside from the fact that he liked video games and coffee. Aside from what his mouth felt like against yours. 

You engaged in tense, short, small talk for a little while, until the food came out. How work had been for you, what he’d been up to with his time. Trying to get to know each other even a little bit more. It all came back to pointed glances and tension—both of you guarded against something. Not each other, really, but refusing to let the other in. 

Yunho didn’t give much away about himself, only continued asking about you. And you could only tease him in response. Keeping him at a distance by pushing back, instead. 

As the wine levels lowered, so did your defenses. 

“Is this how it usually goes for you?” you asked, finishing off your second glass of wine while you waited for his answer. He didn’t speak immediately, so you clarified. “Like, on all your dates, is this usually how things go?”

“I don’t know where you got this idea that I go on tons of dates,” he said. 

It only served to stun you. Because—where else would you have gotten that information, aside from the obvious? By living next door. By kicking out said dates the next morning. 

“I mean—” you started. 

“Your impression of me,” he said. “It’s wrong. You think I’m this ladies man, right?” He laughed like he couldn’t even say the words with a straight face. “I’m really not.”

“Oh, please,” you said, because you knew that to be false. You’d met the women. Spoken with them. 

He chuckled under his breath. “Just because they were at my house didn’t mean I went out on dates with them. You know that, right? That you don’t have to go on a date with someone to get into bed with them?” He raised a brow in such a suggestive way that you choked on your saliva. 

“I know that,” you said. Even though it didn’t really occur to you that he wasn’t actually dating anyone. 

“This is the first date I’ve been on in over a year,” he said, offering up something about himself completely unprompted. “So I don’t know how it’s going, really. My date seems a little tense. A little nervous, even though she doesn’t want to admit it.”

“You haven’t been on a date in over a year?” you asked, lingering on the details. “But you’re so—” you started, then realized you had no idea how to finish the sentence. What? Active? 

“Let’s just get this conversation over with,” Yunho said, a bit of tension appearing in the crease between his brows. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to draw attention to it. But you were so obviously curious, and it was so easy to do anything when it was what you wanted. 

“No,” you said, holding a hand up. “It’s okay, really. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “It makes sense why you did. The women I’ve been with, they knew what I was looking for. I didn’t trick them or make them think I was looking for a relationship when I wasn’t. We met at bars or clubs or on dating apps. I didn’t date any of them.” 

“Okay,” you said. 

“So, I guess I’m kind of rusty,” he said. “When it comes to stuff like this.”

You laughed. “You’re not rusty at all,” you said. “You’re charming. You’ve always been charming.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Like, annoyingly so.” 

He looked down at the table, but not before you caught the slight blush appearing on his cheeks. Had you actually made Yunho blush?

“I think that makes you the experienced dater in the situation, then,” Yunho said. 

This, too, made you laugh. Because if there was anything you didn’t have experience with, it was dating. All of your dates had ended—with a fizzle and certainly without a bang. Your track record over the past year or two was mostly boring. Boring men who didn’t make you laugh. Boring men who you couldn’t bicker playfully with. Men who wanted more from you than you had to give. Or not enough. 

“I don’t know about that,” you said. Then, “Maybe we’re both losers.”

A bright smile crossed his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”

The rest of the dinner went by without as much tension. You learned a few little bits of information about one another. Where he grew up. What you studied in school. What your favorite drink to make at work was. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, refilling your wine when a new bottle appeared at the table seemingly out of nowhere. “Your job?” 

You shrugged. “Most of the time, yes.” You took a small sip. “I like the people. The regulars are mostly cool. And I get this glimpse into people’s lives that I don’t think I could get anywhere else. I only get to see what they want to show me. What they tell me about their day, or whatever baggage they bring to the counter. I like that.”

“Is what they say about bartenders really true?” he asked. “Do people tell you their life stories, their secrets?”

“Sometimes,” you said. “Depends on the person, and how many drinks they’ve had. Most people keep to themselves, but I have a few regulars who like to talk.”

“You’re kind of fascinating, you know that?” he asked. 

“What?” you said, exhaling a short laugh. 

“When I moved in down the hall, you were headed out somewhere with Wooyoung and Jihyo—”

You interrupted him. “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“Why?” he asked. “I like this story.”

You put your hands over your face like you could hide from it, from your own actions several months ago. 

“You walked right over to me and introduced yourself. I thought that was pretty cool.” 

Really? Because you had recounted that interaction several times in the hours afterward, convinced that you had made a complete ass out of yourself, convinced that you were the lamest person in the entire world. 

“Do you remember what you said to me?” he asked. 

“No,” you said. Even though you obviously did. Even though you knew exactly the words you’d said. 

Yunho smiled. “That I could come over any time if I needed something. That you were excited to have a cool, new neighbor.”

You hid your face behind your hands again. “God, that’s so lame.” 

“I thought it was cute.”

“You did not,” you said. 

He took a sip of his wine, eyes not leaving yours as he did. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you were certain that this embarrassment was going to kill you. 

“And then you came over whenever you wanted for the rest of forever,” you said. “Just to bother me.”

He laughed again. “I came over because I thought you were cute.”

“I thought you were just trying to get away from the girls in your apartment.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Because they weren’t you.”

You rolled your eyes at him because it was such a line. So something he would say to get what he wanted, to make a girl blush, or make them want him. It was probably something he said to those girls in the bar, to get them to come home with him. Not that he probably had to say much of anything at all. His appearance could do most of the talking. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he said. “I’m being honest here.”

“You are not,” you said. 

His eyebrows raised at your blatant dismissal. “Just because you don’t want to believe me doesn’t make it untrue.”

“Yunho, be serious.”

“I am being serious,” he said. “None of those girls meant anything to me. They knew it. I knew it.”

“How charming,” you said. 

“Are you going to keep judging me for this, or can we move on?” he asked, straight-faced, just as blatant as your words. It must have been the alcohol, making you both so free to talk about what you were really thinking. 

“I’m not judging you for sleeping around. I don’t care about your sex life, Yunho. I really don’t,” you said. “You just can’t expect me to believe that you were thinking about me the whole time. I mean, we didn’t even know each other.”

“I know you wake up at ten on weekdays and eleven on weekends. I know you record more reality TV than any sane person probably should. I know that you like coffee and you hate tea. I know you make a really good old-fashioned. I know you like people. I know you’re kind, but you don’t take people’s shit.”

It was all true. 

“And I know I think about you when you aren’t around. I know that I’m not good enough for you even on my best days.” 

“That’s not true,” you said. “You’re good.”

“Is that why you rejected me?” he asked. 

“No,” you said. “I rejected you because I wanted more than I thought you wanted to give me.”

Something lit up behind his eyes when he smiled. 

The rest of the date went on without incident. You returned to small talk. To easier conversation. To more teasing and taunting. 

When you finally left, both wine drunk and happy, it was with intertwined hands. 

“So nice of you to walk me home,” you joked. 

“Well, I am quite the gentleman,” Yunho said. 

You laughed under your breath. 

“Your place or mine?” you asked as you stepped into the lobby and pressed the button to call the elevator down. 

He looked shocked by this. Like he hadn’t been thinking about it all night, what taking you back to his place would be like. Okay, so maybe he had, but that didn’t mean he was going to act on those feelings. No, he wanted to do this right. 

He didn’t respond fast enough, and it felt like a rejection. 

You played it off. “I just want to make you a drink, Yunho. Don’t be weird,” you said. Even though that wasn’t exactly what you meant. Maybe it meant what he thought it meant. That you were looking for more. 

“Your place, then,” he said, trying to keep the smile off his lips with little success. 

The elevator doors slipped open, and you both stepped inside. 

That same tension returned again. The we-kissed-here tension. 

You were both looking at each other. Wine drunk and smiling. You used your intertwined hands to pull him toward you. He took one confident stride closer. When the doors slid open at your floor, his hands were reaching up to touch your arms, that same darkened look in his eyes. The part of his lips, the way his eyes roamed your face, up and down, unable to stop in any one location. He wanted to kiss you. 

But he remained that step away, instead letting his knuckles glide along your skin. 

You reached out for him, like that first night. Your hands found his lapels as the elevator doors slid closed. You didn’t tug him closer, but just held them. 

He leaned down slowly, eyes shifting between your lips and your mouth. Your lips parted, too, and he captured them like it was an invitation. 

Kissing him felt just as insane every single time you’d done it. There was the urgency and the fear of the first night, the pretending. And days ago, there had only been tenderness in his investigation. This kiss fell somewhere in the middle. 

You could taste the wine on his lips as they moved slowly against yours. He tried to savor every bit of you. But as soon as it was really getting started, he was pulling away, cutting it off. 

Then, his hand intertwined with yours again. He hit a button to make the elevator doors open again, and he led you down the hall, toward your place. 

You wanted to reach for him again, wanted to drag him down for another kiss. But his expression looked like steel. He didn’t look at you, but instead forward at the door while you dug around for your keys. Even when you tried to steal a glance, he didn’t meet it. 

But he let you lead him into your apartment, and once you were inside, he removed his jacket, placing it on the back of one of your chairs. You went to the kitchen, and he followed you, wrapping his arms low around your waist so he could rest his chin on your shoulder. 

It was so domestic that it made your teeth hurt like you were sucking on a sweet candy. 

“What do you like to drink?” you asked. “Do you actually like an old-fashioned, or were you just trying to piss me off?” 

He chuckled in your ear, low and melodic, his breath curling against the shell of your ear. “I like them.”

“But are they your favorite?” you asked. 

“I don’t know if I have a favorite,” he said. 

“Everyone has a favorite,” you said.

“What’s yours?” he asked. “That’s what I want.”

You weren’t going to be able to make anyone anything if he kept holding onto you like that, kept whispering in your ear. 

“I like, um,” you started. “Mai tais. Rum-based drinks in general.” 

“Rum sounds good,” he said. 

You took a step forward, and his arms fell away from you. You collected a few things from the counter, moving them over to the place next to the sink. Yunho stayed close, watching you work as you sliced and juiced a lime. He watched as you filled a shaker with ice and added the ingredients. He watched you shake it, then strain the contents over ice in a lowball glass. He watched as you carefully placed a few cherries atop the drink next to a lime wheel. 

“Wait,” you said. “Finishing touch.” You dug around in a drawer and found a tiny umbrella, which you dropped into the drink for him, before picking it up and handing it to him. 

He took a tentative sip, then smiled. “Damn, that’s good.” 

“Kind of my specialty,” you said, already starting the process over for yours. 

Eventually, the two of you migrated to the couch. You took a seat on the ground, your back to the legs of the couch, your drink on the table adjacent to you. Yunho sat behind you, on the couch itself. 

You already had a controller in your hands, and it didn’t take long before Yunho wandered to the other side of the room to pick up another one. 

While you scrolled through your available games, he said, “Trying to figure out which game you want to lose at?” 

You shook your head, not looking back at him. “Cocky,” you commented. “I think you’ll find I’m better than you think.”

“I play on your account,” he said, which really meant I’ve seen your statistics. 

“Okay, so I’m bad at the games you like to play,” you said. 

He slipped onto the ground next to you. 

“I was thinking something collaborative.” 

You pulled up Overcooked and watched as he rolled his sleeves up. 

“It’s that serious?” you asked, teasingly. 

He laughed. “It’s incredibly serious.” 

You both finished your drinks and played into the middle of the night, yelling at each other about vegetables and recipes. 

It was nearly three in the morning when your eyes started to get heavy, when your head started to hurt, the hangover starting. You leaned your head against his shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. Neither of you moved for a long time. At some point, his hand came up to stroke long lines into your hair. And when you did, finally, fall asleep like that, he scooped you up and carried you to bed. 

He peeled back the covers and deposited you there, pulling them back up around your body afterward. He pressed a kiss into your hair and disappeared.

When you woke up the next morning, it was to an empty apartment. When you wandered into the living room, there were no empty mai tai glasses to be found, no dishes from your late-night cocktail crafting. Everything was clean and put away. 

You had no choice but to call Jihyo. 

When she answered, it was not with a hello but with the immediate, important questions. “Oh my god, how was it?”

You kicked your feet up on the coffee table, leaned back with arms crossed over your chest, thinking. 

“You’re up later than usual—does that mean it went really well?” Jihyo asked. 

What was this feeling developing in the center of your chest? It couldn’t possibly be disappointment, right? There was nothing wrong with the date. He’d been a perfect gentleman. He’d paid for the meal, walked you home, let you yell at him into the wee hours of the night. He’d even tucked you in and washed your dishes. 

But he’d hardly kissed you. 

“It was… good,” you said. 

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It wasn’t bad,” you said hastily. “It was really good. It just—I just, I guess I can’t even tell if he really even likes me or not.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

You shrugged, even though Jihyo couldn’t see it. “We kissed again, but that was it—and he didn’t even seem like, eager to continue.”

“That’s… weird,” was Jihyo’s analysis of the evening. You filled her in on the rest of the fine details. The restaurant, the banter, the moments of tension. “Maybe he’s just being careful?” she suggested. “Like he doesn’t want you to think he just wants you for one thing.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Maybe.”

Jihyo laughed. “So what you’re saying is that it was a really good date, but you’re annoyed he didn’t put out?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you said. 

“Kind of sounds like what you’re saying.”

“I’m hanging up now,” you said. 

And you did. 

It wasn’t long before you heard from Yunho again. Before another date was scheduled. Before you were calling Jihyo afterward again to recount the same news. The lack of news. And then it happened again. You were beginning to think the worst, that he didn’t want you. When he pulled away from another kiss on the night of your fourth date, two weeks into whatever it was the two of you were doing together, you threw your hands out in exasperation. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” you asked. 

He folded his arms over his chest. “Hm?” he asked. Then, what you said must have registered with him. “What do you mean?” He might have teased you if you hadn’t sounded so serious. 

You chewed on your bottom lip for a long time, trying to work up the nerve to say the words you really wanted to say. 

“I mean,” you started, but the words died on your tongue. 

He had to know. 

There was no way he didn’t. 

He lifted his hand to your face, curled two fingers under your chin, and lifted, making you hold his gaze. His eyes were sharp, brown, drowning in blown-out pupils. 

“Do you even still like me?” you asked, getting the words out. They weren’t exactly the right words, but the right words made your stomach turn. Even these ones made your heart beat faster, made your fingers twitch. Because it felt so stupid to be asking. Obviously, he liked you. 

And he laughed. 

Because, of course, he laughed. 

It was a stupid fucking question. 

“Of course, I like you,” he said, still holding your chin, still looking at you. Something knowing crossed his features, then, and you wished he would just confirm your worries without you having to actually speak them aloud. 

“Then why don’t you want me?” you asked, voice small and timid. 

His hand moved to the side of your face, his fingers dipping into your hair, holding you. “You think that I don’t want you?” he asked. 

“I mean, it’s the only reasonable explanation,” you stammered, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“It’s not reasonable,” Yunho said. 

Then, he dropped his hand from your face, slipping his palm into yours instead. He tugged you toward his door, away from your apartment—where he was previously dropping you off for the evening. You don’t even remember what his excuse had been. Something about having to work in the morning. 

You let him lead you down the hall, toward his apartment. You would have followed him anywhere. He didn’t speak, just walked with you trailing behind. The short distance felt so much longer when you had to cross it without knowing what was on his mind. 

As soon as you were inside, the door closed behind you, and he had you pressed against it, the cold metal interior, the doorknob just to the side of your hip. He didn’t kiss you. Just held you caged between his arms, elbows next to your shoulder, forearms resting against the door next to your head. 

You cleared your throat. Breathing felt like an impossibility, like all of the air had been sucked fully and totally out of the room, with his face so close to yours, his eyes studying every movement you made. 

“What were you saying?” you asked, voice just above a whisper. “About it being unreasonable?”

He ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and it was so much hotter than it had any reason to be. 

How high did he keep the heat in his apartment? Why did it feel like you were absolutely drenched in sweat? Your hands were clammy, your fingers tense at your side. You didn’t touch him, even though you wanted to. You weren’t afraid of being rejected. You knew that wasn’t what this was, exactly. But you were too curious to move. 

Curious about what he would do—what he wanted. 

Yunho shifted his weight, pressing against the door with one arm, in order to lean slightly back, to run the pads of his pointer and middle finger along your jawline. Your eyes stayed locked on his, watching him as he followed the movement of his hand. They flicked back to you, dark and deep. He cleared his throat, parted his soft, almost heart-shaped lips, to speak. 

“I was trying,” he started, voice still gravely despite his attempt at clearing it. “To be a gentleman.” 

Your lips formed into an oh, and you swallowed thick, trying to gather the confidence to say the next thing. To make the words known. “You don’t have to be.”

His fingers stilled on your jaw, and his dark brown eyes—overflowing with want—caught yours. You tried to keep your gaze neutral, but you could tell by the way he was looking at you that it wasn’t a success. 

One corner of his lips quirked up first, just before the smirk drew across his face. Brows slightly raised, eyes inquisitive. 

He was still so close to you, leaning in just an inch away from your lips. You could have closed the distance if you wanted to, but there was something appealing about this game the two of you had started playing the moment the door to his apartment closed. Like it was something tangible between the two of you that could be grabbed at any moment, but you both tiptoed around it, careful and curious. 

Yunho’s hand fell to your neck, his knuckles dragged downward, skittering over your pulse and making your heart beat faster. 

“So jumpy,” he said. “How long have you been thinking about this?” he asked. “About saying something?” 

Your lips parted, but the confidence in your brain didn’t meet the confidence of the real-life situation, couldn’t face the way he was looking at you. Words died on your tongue, and he looked at you like he could see the entire process. Your struggling only made his smirk more proud. 

“Really interesting,” he said, voice still low and gravely, but soft—too. A tool he used for inspection. “I was trying to be a gentleman for you, and you were thinking about—what?” he asked. 

Your breath caught in your throat as he lowered his lips to the edge of your ear. You tried to collect your thoughts, tried to figure out how to navigate this new situation. This was the Yunho you were more familiar with. The one who poked and prodded at you. Who teased you in the living room, who was downright difficult. 

It was the gentlemanly version of him that you’d been unfamiliar with, that you didn’t know quite how to handle. 

“Oh, now she’s quiet,” he commented. “You had so much to say not even five minutes ago.”

“Five minutes ago, you didn’t have me pressed up against a wall,” you said, trying to steady your voice into something that sounded any semblance of calm, even if you didn’t feel it. 

He slipped his hand into your hair at the base of your neck. “How long have you been thinking about it?” he asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, tilting your head up as you ran your tongue over your lower lip. 

Yunho laughed dryly under his breath. “Is that right?” 

“That’s right,” you repeated. 

“I was going to be so nice to you, baby,” Yunho whispered, breath curling against your ear. “Was going to treat you so good, too. Now, I’m not sure you deserve it.” 

Your mouth fell open. 

“What?” he asked, pulling back to look at you, to read the shock running its way across your face. “You want to play pretend now—pretend you haven’t been thinking about it, pretend you didn’t just ask. I can play, too.” 

“I just—” you start. “You weren’t—” 

“What wasn’t I doing?” he asked, one brow quirked upward. He wanted actual, tangible answers. 

The way he spoke made everything in your brain stop working. All the lights turned off, and it was just fizzling, crackling energy left behind. Nothing that converted the thoughts into words. You were left just staring at him, mouth opening for a moment before your lips pressed together again. 

Yunho was patient. He didn’t speak. Just kept his hand laced through your hair, kept that same look leveled on you. It didn’t help, but it certainly didn’t hurt, either. 

“Let’s recap,” he said after a moment. “You asked me why I don’t want you. Which, I’m not sure where you got that idea, but that’s not important. And I asked you how long you’ve been thinking about this. And what was it that you said?” he asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

A small smile crept across your lips in delight at the way he spoke, the way his words got faster the more irritated he got with trying to figure you out. It was nice to be the one to get under his skin for once. 

He shook his head in disbelief, but you could see the hint of a smile on his lips, too. He was enjoying this just as much as you were, this back and forth. 

“I don’t,” you said, a proud smile on your lips now. “Know what you’re talking about.”

He exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. 

“You know if you keep playing innocent, you’re not going to get what you want. What we both know you want,” he said. 

You pressed your lips into a pout. He couldn’t resist. He removed his hand from your hair and touched the center of your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, dragging gently downward. “You don’t have to pout,” he said. “Just tell me how long you’ve been thinking about it—and don’t lie.”

Speaking didn’t appeal to you. Instead, you parted your lips around his thumb and leaned just slightly forward so the pad landed flat atop your tongue. 

He did it again, ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek in an attempt to mask his frustration. He hummed, a disapproving sound laced with something else. Like he enjoyed it, but didn’t want to indulge. 

“That’s not going to work on me, beautiful,” he said, pulling his thumb slowly out of your mouth. He dropped his hand to the space right below your neck, holding it ever-so-gently. He leaned in slowly, so his lips were only a fraction from yours. 

Your body reacted before you could stop it, leaning slightly forward to try to capture his lips. He pulled back, holding you firm against the door with one hand. “Ah, ah,” he said. 

“You don’t want to kiss me, Yunho?” you asked, pouting. “I mean, I kind of got that impression on our dates, but I thought maybe I was wrong.” 

He ran his tongue over his gums, just under his lower lip, and you could tell you were driving him insane, too. 

But you kept going. “If you don’t really want me, I could just go home,” you said. 

“Never said that,” he said. He took one of your hands, hanging useless at your side, and placed it atop the taut material and the hard length underneath it, lowering his lips to your ear again to whisper, “I want you, but not before you tell me what I want to hear.” 

He didn’t hold your hand to him, but yours lingered, regardless. You moved your palm against him, and he worked hard to keep his expression neutral, to not break immediately underneath your touch. After a few moments, he pulled your hand away, holding it tight in his. 

“Come on, baby,” he said. “How long?” The tip of his nose ran along the shell of your ear, and you shuddered under the sensation. Goosebumps rose on your forearms, and the heat of the apartment had only increased. “How long were you thinking about this while I was focused on treating you right, being a gentleman?” 

He kissed the hinge of your jaw. “I just want to know how long it took,” he said, pressing another kiss lower, along your jawline. “Was it the first date?” he asked. “Or the second?” Another kiss, this time at the top of your neck. You angled your head away from him, giving him better access. He didn’t comment, but you could feel the pride tug at the corner of his lips. “You must have been really frustrated to ask.” He dragged his teeth downward, then bit gently. “Were you frustrated?” 

All the bravado disappeared, and you were left, mouth open, victim to his ministrations, trying to figure out exactly how you could argue against this idea that you had been thinking about him like this nonstop for the past two weeks. 

You could no longer find a good reason to continue frustrating him. 

“The night you drove me home,” you said, your voice just above a whisper, like it was embarrassing to admit. His smile grew against your skin in an instant. 

“Mmm,” he hummed against your skin. “The kiss in the elevator really did it for you?” 

“No,” you said, like it was an instinct to shut him down. 

He only chuckled into the crook of your neck. 

“Is this what I have to look forward to?” he asked. “You being a brat?” 

“No,” you said, cocky smile across your face. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said, exasperation seeping into his words, seconds before his lips were on yours. You were all talk. The moment his lips touched yours, you came alive against him. It was a taste of what you wanted, and you immediately didn’t want it to end. You pushed away from the door, letting your arms fall over his shoulders as you pressed your body into his. His hands fell to your waist, then slid around to your back, holding you against him. 

Yeah, sure. Maybe you were impatient. Maybe you’d been thinking about this for weeks. Maybe you didn’t want him to know just how much you’d been thinking about it, how much your body absolutely craved his. But when your hands dropped to the buttons of his shirt, he didn’t complain. He didn’t make you stop to recite the answers to any questions. 

He just smiled against your lips, proud, like he’d won something. 

Your fingers grazed his bare skin as you worked further down. He deepened the kiss, angling forward as he tilted your head back, slipping his tongue between your lips. Yunho’s fingers dug into the cloth covering your hips, and your fingers stalled on his shirt. You reached for his skin instead, wanting to touch anything you could. You put one hand flat on his chest, but he was quick to loop a hand around your wrist and pull it away. 

“Hey,” you mumbled into his lips. 

He gave no response, only laced his fingers through the hand he’d stolen and pinned it back against the door as he continued to kiss you, running his tongue along yours. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said, breaking apart from your mouth, breaths ragged, forehead touching yours. “At anytime,” he said. 

You nodded, but remained silent. Hoping for the continuation of whatever he was doing, his lips on your again, his hands exploring your body. Any of it. You didn’t care. You’d take what he was willing to give. You might even say thank you.

He kissed you again, dragging your lower lip into his mouth as his fingers inched toward the hem of your shirt. One hand snuck underneath it. His knuckles grazed your bare stomach, and you jumped. He smiled into the kiss, and you rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. 

“You sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked, muttering the words against you between kisses. “I’m barely touching you.”

“I’m fine,” you hissed. His lips found the column of your neck again, however, and you began to question the declaration. 

He chuckled again, letting the sound reverberate through you as his fingers climbed further up your abdomen. 

Your head lolled backward, resting against the door behind you, the rest of your body arched forward into him. 

“You give up on the shirt?” he asked, eyes glancing between the two of you, to the few buttons holding his shirt together. 

“No,” you said. 

His hand still held one of yours pinned to the door. You reached between your bodies with your free one and worked on the button. It kept slipping free from your fingers at the same time as your soft moans. He bit your pulse point, sucking your skin into his mouth gently at first and then harder. Your lids fluttered closed, and the fabric fell out of your hand again. 

“Come on,” he said. 

His other hand slipped under your bra, cupping your breast. You almost had the last button done when his thumb ran over your nipple. “Yunho,” you hissed in annoyance. 

“Want me to stop?” he asked, lifting his lips from your neck just enough to catch your gaze, his thumb still moving back and forth across your nipple inconsistently, making it impossible to get used to. 

“It would be easier,” you said. “If I could use my other hand.” 

“Huh,” he said. “That’s too bad.” Then, he dropped his lips to your neck again, kissing lower, grazing them along the length of your collarbone. 

You finally did get the last button, then used your one free hand to attempt to push the fabric back off his shoulders. You tugged against his hand, trying to free yourself from the grip. He held firm, didn’t even so much as budge. But he felt your attempt, and that had him grinning. 

“Need help?” he asked. 

“Nope,” you said. You had most of his chest revealed, and that was good enough for you. You reached out for it, running just the tips of your fingers down the center. He didn’t stop you this time, letting you explore him. 

He released your hand then, only for his own benefit, to grab the hem of your shirt with both hands and lift it up and over your head. 

You stood apart for a second, looking at one another. His eyes fell to your chest, your cleavage. His tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip. You were too busy getting the rest of his shirt off to notice the way he looked at you. 

The break only lasted a moment, but it might as well have been an eternity of not touching one another. Of studying what was before you and wanting it. You both seized forward at the same time, your lips colliding as hands roamed over bodies. Yours found his shoulders, slid down his arms over his biceps, then back up. His went to your waist, around to your back. One fiddled with the strap of your bra before unhooking it in a swift motion. 

He didn’t break the kiss, just took a half-step back as he pulled the straps off your shoulders and down. Once your bra was on the floor in the growing pile of clothes next to you, he pulled away again to look at you. His lips were on your skin again in no time, working downward as his hand moved upward. He rolled one nipple between thumb and forefinger as he kissed a circle around the other. 

Your body tensed under his ministrations, and you were certain this man was going to be the absolute death of you with his knowing looks and his slow touches. Heat started in your stomach and dripped dangerously low at every caress. But you tried to keep your cool, tried to handle it. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being putty in his hands. 

Yunho hummed a sound of happiness as he sucked, flicking your nipple with his tongue. Your hands threaded into his hair. 

His hands fell to your pants, unbuttoning the top button. “Take these off,” he said, and you finished the job, stepping out of them as he kissed back upward, taking his time. His fingers teased at the waistband of your underwear. 

You sucked in a breath, hot and sharp between your teeth. The door pressed cold lines into your back, and Yunho’s fingertips continued to flutter atop the band, teasing. The heat of the moment and the cold of the metal did not grant you equilibrium but only contributed to the building feeling of overstimulation that you know he would absolutely revel in if he could read your mind. 

Maybe he could read your mind, because he smirked against your skin for at least the tenth time in so many minutes, and you were starting to think he knew every nasty thought you’d ever had. 

It was a stalemate, because you knew that he wanted you restless. He wanted you begging. But you didn’t want to voice another word, another request, didn’t want to do what he told you to do. Unfortunately, you also really wanted him to slip his fingers lower. 

He watched you, too, like he knew you were making this calculation. 

He placed his hand across your stomach as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “Just say it,” he whispered. “I know you want to.”

He lifted your chin with his fingers as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. His eyes were dark and heavy, full of clear desire. The word no died on your tongue. 

But neither did he wait for you to ask. He held your eye contact as he moved his hand between your thighs, humming as he ran the pads of his fingers along your clothed slit. “Nice and wet for me, hm?” 

He pushed your underwear to the side, dragged his middle finger through your folds, and then slipped it inside of you to the knuckle. 

“See, I can be nice,” he said.

You choked on a gasp and tried to let your head fall back against the door, but he held your chin firm, keeping his eyes on you. He moved his finger slowly as you adjusted. His eyes traced your expression, the subtle part of your lips, the way your eyes rolled slightly backward. And you studied his, too. The hooded gaze as he watched you, the way his smirk got cockier every time you reacted to the movement. 

There was no escaping his careful eye. He caught every soundless gasp, every subtle movement.  

He liked you like this, falling apart and trying to keep yourself together at the same time. Not wanting to give in to him, but wanting everything he had to give. He liked teasing it out of you, that desire. 

Your lids fluttered closed as he stroked just the right spot, curling his finger to meet it. 

“Eyes open,” he said. His voice was firm, but not sharp. Commanding in a gentle kind of way. 

It didn’t make you want to listen. 

“Or what?” you challenged, eyes still closed. 

“Or I’ll stop,” he said. And he did. 

Your eyes flew open, and he couldn’t help the breathy laugh that fell off his lips. 

“You’re trying so hard, baby, but your body keeps giving you away,” Yunho said, a hair away from your lips, before he kissed you. 

He slipped another finger inside of you at the same time, and your body arched forward, your hands reaching for something to hold onto and finding his shoulders with ease. You groaned into his mouth, both at the feeling and his words. 

“God,” you moaned, breaking away from his lips to catch your breath. He didn’t go far, instead dropping his lips to your neck, biting and sucking at your skin until you felt like you were melting. You rolled your hips against his hand, wanting more, and he gave it without a word. His thumb ran over your clit, sending a shudder through your body. “Yunho, oh my god,” you muttered, hands digging into his shoulders. 

It was all too much. His teeth on your neck, his fingers moving fast inside you, curling, and his thumb running circles over your clit at a pace that made everything ache. 

“That feel good, baby?” he asked, voice gravely, breath hot on your neck. 

He didn’t slow his pace, so you could barely voice the words you wanted to say. All that came out was a breathy, “Don’t stop.”

And he was smirking again, running his tongue over your pulse before whispering, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Your hips kept rolling into his fingers, but he managed to keep the dizzing pressure on your clit as you squirmed. He took a step into you, pressing you up against the door again. One of his legs snuck between yours, and he used his upper thigh to hold you in place. 

He had you on the edge, about to teeter over, every muscle in your body so tense you were almost shaking. 

Then, he did exactly what he said he wouldn’t. He stopped. He dragged his fingers out of you slow, removed his thumb from your clit, and met your eyes. He struggled to keep your gaze, his eyes falling to your heaving chest as you tried to catch your breath. 

You groaned and tried to let your head fall back against the door, but he caught it, holding you forward by the neck. 

“Aw, you don’t like being teased, baby?” he asked, looking down his nose at you. 

You whimpered, moving your hips against his thigh in search of something. He only pinned you harder, keeping you from moving at all. 

He lifted his hand, slick with you, and tapped your lower lip. “Open,” he said. 

Your lips fell open, and he placed both of his fingers on the flat of your tongue. You closed your lips around them. He pressed down on your tongue, and you licked from the base of his finger to the tip without breaking the very direct eye contact he made with you. 

“Look at that,” he said. “You can follow directions.” 

You rolled your eyes and bit down gently on his fingers. He hooked his fingertips just behind your teeth and pulled you forward. 

“Mm,” he hummed. “I think I like you like this—unable to talk back.”

You ran your tongue over his fingers again, tried to move your hips again, chasing anything that would give you any kind of satisfaction now that fire danced over every inch of your skin, where he touched you and where he didn’t. 

He pulled his fingers from your mouth slowly as you licked them clean. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, lips crashing into yours—hungrier than before. The entire length of his body pressed up against you, anchoring you in place. You could hardly move between him and the wall, except to reach for him, to grip his arms tight in a grounding kind of way. 

He took a step away from you, dragging his lips from yours like it was the hardest decision he’d ever made. Then, he was grabbing your hand, pulling you deeper into his apartment, past the kitchen, through the living room, toward his bedroom. 

You’d been here before, seen these places before. You’d stalked through his apartment, looking for your fake boyfriend in order to drive off the women he’d slept with, you’d sat on his couch post-date, talking into the late hours of the night. 

The place seemed different now. His bedroom a completely new world. You’d only seen it in the aftermath, or with another woman sprawled out across it, waiting for his return. It was pristine now, the bed made with crisp sheets and a comfortable atop it. Pillows stacked in front of the headboard.

He guided you toward the edge of the bed, and you sat while he towered over you, hands lowering to his belt. You watched with rapt attention, tongue running between your lips. He undid his belt buckle, then the top button of his pants. He worked slowly—slower because he could tell you were watching, waiting. 

Yunho let his pants fall to his ankles. He stepped out of them, and your hands shot out, touching his abdomen but trailing downward for more. You were so interested, so needy. You’d never wanted anyone as much as you wanted him, right then. 

He slipped his hands over yours, and you rolled your eyes before he could open his mouth. 

“Ask for it,” he said, looking down at you. That same smirk playing on his lips. You should have known that being with him would be like this, with all the teasing he did outside the bedroom. All the playful glances he always shot in your direction, all the comments he made. It just never occurred to you that he would be so, well, annoying. 

Why was it so hot, then? If you were so annoyed, why did his words always make that same heat pool between your legs, always make you want him even more? And why did it drive you absolutely insane anytime he asked you anything? 

You pressed your lips into a tight line, determined to be stubborn about this. 

“You don’t have to touch me,” he said. “But if you want to—I’m going to need to hear you ask.” 

He held your hands tight in his to prevent them from going anywhere. 

“You’re—”

“What, baby?” he asked, still looking down at you, not touching you anywhere other than your hands. He cocked his head to the side. “What am I?” 

“Bossy,” you said. “And kind of a pain in the ass.” 

He laughed, a full, deep one that shook his chest. “You want me to stop?” he asked, lifting one hand to tilt your chin upward. “I could be nice to you, instead. Really nice.” 

You hesitated. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said. 

“Shut up,” you said, pushing against his abdomen with your intertwined hands. You grumbled under your breath. You batted your eyelashes at him. “I’d really like to touch you, Yunho. Could I, please?” 

He smirked. “Now, I don’t think you really mean that.”

“Oh, should I get on my knees?” you said, that same expression on your face—fluttering eyelashes, like you’d do anything he wanted if he really wanted it. 

“Only if you want to, beautiful,” he said. He freed your other hand, too. 

You hooked your fingers into the band of his boxers and pulled them down, tongue flicking out to wet your lips as you slid off the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. He watched, silently, one hand coming up to gather your hair away from your face. 

One of your hands lifted to wrap around him. He was big, you had to admit. And you couldn’t keep the look off your face. Like you were drunk on want. Like he was all you could possibly think about. 

You leaned forward, flattened your tongue against the underside of the tip, eyes flicking up to meet his as you did, watching for a reaction. He didn’t hold back as you did, but let you watch as his lips parted. His hand tightened in your hair, and you gasped as you took him into your mouth—shallow at first, as you got used to the size. 

Slowly, you took him deeper. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re so good.” 

He rolled his hips once, slow, as he held the back of your head. 

“That okay?” he asked, his voice dropping to one much more gentle than how he’d been speaking to you. 

You nodded as best you could with your mouth wrapped around his cock. 

Another slow roll of his hips, and he was reaching your throat. You dropped your hands from him and looked up. You stopped moving, letting him take control instead. He held the back of your head firm and rolled his hips again and again, a little harder each time. 

Each time he hit the back of your throat, your eyes stung. His grip in your hair tightened, and you moaned around him, which only made him thrust into your mouth faster—harder. 

Tears stung in the corners of your eyes, but neither of you stopped. 

“God,” Yunho hissed again, hips bucking, snapping forward into you one more time before he pulled out fast. 

“Get up,” he said, and you stood—no attitude needed. 

He wiped the tears from under your eyes, the drool from your mouth, then spun you around and pressed you down, into the mattress. He reached into the drawer next to his bed, ripped open a condom with his teeth, and rolled it on, keeping one hand on your lower back. 

He guided the tip of his cock to your entrance and dragged it through your folds. “Still so wet, and I wasn’t even touching you,” he said. 

You couldn’t get a single word out. Your face was buried in the bedspread. He pushed just the tip inside of you, and every muscle in your legs went taut, seizing up. 

“Relax, baby,” Yunho said, moving forward another inch, reveling in the stretch, the feeling of tightness as you clamped down hard around him. Your hands were already balled into the fabric next to you, your teeth already biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep from whimpering. You pushed back against him, trying to get more. 

His hands came up to hold your hips, preventing you from moving. He slid forward another inch, slowly, enough to make you ache. 

“Please,” you begged, needing all of him way faster than he was willing to give it. 

You could practically hear the smirk appear behind you as he rolled his hips forward into you, filling you up. 

A jagged gasp escaped your lips. You could feel him pulsing inside of you, twitching, betraying his resolve. But he didn’t move. He kept one hand on your hip, then ran the other down your spine, making you shiver. 

“Yunho,” you whimpered. 

“Something you want, hm?” he asked, voice low and dark, like he was holding back from what he wanted, too, just to break you down even further. 

You gritted your teeth. “Yes,” you said, forcing the word out. 

He traced lazy circles on your back. “Tell me.” 

“Yunho,” you moaned again, trying to move your hips against them again. 

He stilled them once more. “I want to hear you say it.” 

“Say what?” you teased—only punishing yourself. 

He shifted only slightly, enough to remind you what you wanted. He grabbed your shoulder, pulled you back against him, pushing his cock even deeper into you, making you gasp into the blankets. “Tell me what you want from me.” 

“God, Yunho,” you muttered, thighs starting to shake. “I want you,” you said. “I don’t know—I want you, I just want you.” 

He laughed dryly under his breath and rewarded you with a slow roll of his hips. “Not specific enough,” he said. 

You groaned again, exasperated and desperate. 

“I don’t—” you started, another slow, agonizing thrust. “I don’t—” 

“You know,” he said. “You just don’t want to say it.”

He pulled out of you slow, then snapped his hips forward, taking you to new levels of desperation. 

“You’re—” you stumbled over your words. “You’re being so mean.”

He stilled again, giving you time to process, to think. He massaged circles into your hip with his palm. “Yeah?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you said, through gritted teeth. He started slow again, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that fell off your lips immediately, giving you away. “I want you so bad, please. Yunho, please,” you begged. 

He didn’t move. 

“What do you want me to say?” you hissed, irritated. “That I want you to fuck me until I see stars?” 

His fingers dug into your hip, and you knew you’d hit the mark. 

“Look at you, so good with your words,” he commented. 

His hips snapped forward again, deeper this time, faster. He established a rhythm. “Fuck—” you started, only to be interrupted by your own gasps. “You.” 

He slammed into you until you were stuttering, barely even able to say his name or mutter any other profanities. Your thighs were still shaking, legs tense and tight, especially as you arched into him, standing on your toes to lift your ass even higher. He put his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place before him, not letting you shift forward with every thrust—instead taking all of him with each deep stroke. 

It didn’t take long for you to start crumbling against him. He’d had you on the line for a long time, and your body could hardly take it anymore. Your thighs clenched, walls slamming down around him. 

“You wanna come, baby?” he asked, voice soft and deep, just above a whisper. You could hear the desire dripping from it, and it only made it more difficult to hold back. 

You nodded, whimpering as he kept up the pace, holding you and slamming forward again and again. He reached forward and grabbed your hair at the root, pulling you back. Your fingers tightened in the bedspread as the orgasm crashed into you, over you, through you, and you pressed yourself back against him as hard as you could, taking everything he could give as everything tightened so hard it was nearly unbearable. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed as you came undone, falling limp beneath him. His pace slowed into long, languid strokes before he pulled out. 

With his hands on your hips, he turned you over, and you let him. Your face was flushed, your chest hot and red, your lips swollen from earlier kisses, and your hair a mess from his hands. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said. 

You let out a shaky breath, eyes dropping to his cock, still hard. You must have read his mind, because as he crawled onto the bed toward you, you moved away, sliding up so you could rest your head atop the pillows. 

Your knees were folded up, thighs pressed together. 

He slipped a hand on the inside of your knee and pushed them open so he could crawl between, moving up your body. Your hands went to his shoulders immediately, looking for something to grab before he touched you anywhere. 

Yunho pressed a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, the side of your nose. 

“Can you take more, baby?” he asked. 

You nodded, lip between your teeth. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that?” he asked. 

You shook your head, and he laughed, dropping his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss, such a stark difference from the previous few and their feverish nature. 

He slipped a hand between your bodies, slipping a finger inside of you quickly, in and then out, before lining himself up with your entrance again. You sucked in a breath before he even moved. In one fluid motion, he sheathed himself fully inside of you. You shared the same gasp, mangled between kisses. 

Everything felt immediately intense. Each stroke lighting a new fire. He seemed intent on wrecking you completely, because his fingers moved quickly to find your clit. He put pressure on it with two fingers, letting the movement of his thrusts provide the friction. 

He sat up and pulled your hips down on him as he slid into you over and over again. 

“Yunho, oh my god,” you said through heavy breaths, the combination of sensations making you dizzy, making it difficult to keep your eyes open. 

Your sounds only encouraged him further, and soon his own grunts joined with your moans. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, not stopping to give you a second to calm down, only taking the sensation higher and higher. You squirmed, trying to get away from him, trying to stop the overstimulation, the feeling of everything being encompassed in wet, hot fire, but he didn’t let you move an inch. 

You threw your head back against the pillow in defeat, letting your hips roll against his. He lifted one of your legs, leaning it against his shoulder as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You had to close your eyes—and he didn’t stop you, didn’t demand your attention, just kept touching and thrusting, and holding you until it was all too much. 

“I can’t—” you started, hips stuttering as your core tightened impossibly, strangling him inside of you. He groaned as you came, and you felt him twitch inside of you at the same time as he fucked you through your second orgasm of the night, until you were lying nearly boneless beneath him. And then he was still, too, collapsing on top of you, gathering you into his arms. 

You breathed heavily together for some time. Yunho pressed soft kisses to whatever skin he could reach and smoothed your hair away from your face. 

It was a long time—intertwined just like that—before he got out of bed to clean up. As soon as he returned, it was to gather you into his arms all over again, to hold you flush against his skin, to kiss your lips soft and slow. 

“That was—” you started, even though there were no words in the known world to finish the sentence properly. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Really was.”

You nestled your face deeper into his neck, and he held you even tighter, like he was worried you were going to go somewhere. 

When he spoke again, it was quiet, just above a whisper. “I really like you, you know.” 

You peeled away from him enough to catch his eyes. There was a bit of worry in them. Your hand shot out to touch his cheek. 

“I really like you, too,” you said. 

He cleared his throat. “Haven’t really—you know, dated anyone,” he said. “In a while.”

The words hung between you for some time. 

“I want to, though. I mean, I want to keep dating you,” he said. 

You laughed under your breath. He was cute when he was flustered. “Good,” you said, touching the tip of his nose with yours before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I want that, too.” 

“Sex was that good, huh?” he teased, and you pushed his shoulder. “Kidding.”

“It was good, though,” you said, pointedly. “But that’s not the only reason. A silver lining, definitely.” 

You tucked your head back into the crook of his neck and fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you, thinking this is a good thing, and wondering how you were ever anything other than completely enamored by him. 

[matzme]

hongjoong talking you through it ⭐️ MDNI

“My love, I need you to stay still.. I don’t want to hurt you, I promise I’m gonna make it fit.”

“Does it feel good baby? is it too much for you? hmm?”

“I’m so proud of you princess.. my princess mmm.”

“A-ah just a little longer sweetheart, I’m almost there, please.. take it.”

“What a good girl you are, so so perfect for me.”

“Shhh sweetie, your pretty noises are getting too loud.”

“My eyes are up here darling, are my necklaces distracting you?”

“Why are you crying puppy? is my dick being mean to you? I’m sorry, I just can’t help it.”