Content warning: Implied Non con,pregnancy, restraint,implied kidnapping and much more
MDNI:DO NOT INTERACT (MINORS STAY THE HELL AWAY)
<A/N: Hongjoong according to me, is one of the most posessive members of Ateez when it comes to Atiny.....so....a short drabble for him because why not?>
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Hongjoong who was all accustomed to the screaming fans and the blaring lights of the ATEEZ’s send off area. Nothing unusual.
Hongjoong who keeps on smiling his signature idol smile and signing photocards and posters, gliding through the endless rows of Atinys.
Hongjoong who was signing your photocard and lifts his head to give you his practised words of encouragement and little praises that he usually gives out politely.
Hongjoong who lifted his head to look at you,the owner of the guerilla pc he just signed to freeze all together as he saw your face.
Hongjoong who has had his fair share of coming across pretty fans and even the wealthy ones. But never has he ever seen someone so pretty, so his type. So utterly captivating.
Hongjoong who's still frozen, lips parted in awe, when his manager next to him shakes him awake from the trance you put him on.
Hongjoong who looks dazedly at his manager and then at you to see you looking at him with wide shiny eyes, wordlessly expressing your admiration for him.
Hongjoong who asks you for your name and is positively surprised when he comes to know you run a fan page for him in social media.(You clearly told him that you run the page for all the members,but all he heard was how you run a page for HIM)
Hongjoong who's reluctant to leave the spot infront of you even when the other atinys are starting to get confused as to why he's not budging from the same spot he's been standing for 15 minutes now. Some are screaming and some are jealous by the way their eyes track you from head to toe.
Hongjoong who finally by the annoying insistence of his manager (as per his words) moves away from you still smiling like an idiot already in love. (it's love at first sight,Hongjoong would argue)
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Yandere!Hongjoong who was in a daze the whole ride back to their hotel.
Yandere!Hongjoong who was clutching his phone tightly, bouncing on his seat,impatiently to get to their hotel, so that he could finally search your name up and find you through social media.( If he start looking you up in the van, the others will surely get a glimpse at what he's interested in and inevitably they'll find out about you)
Yandere!Hongjoong who practically stumbles out of the van before it could even stop fully, before prancing about to his room,ignoring the startled yells of both his manager and members (He nearly gave the elevator guy a heart attack with how fast he ran into the elevator with his phone clutched in his hands)
Yandere!Hongjoong who didn't even fully reach his room before his phone is out on his hands and his fingers are flying on the keyboard typing your fan page name and ultimately finding both your public user handle and your private one.
Yandere!Hongjoong who without hesitation presses follow on both your accounts and likes all the edits and fancams you uploaded of him.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's overjoyed when you accept his follow request on your private account.
Yandere!Hongjoong who tries to be discreet and wills himself to like only a few photos you uploaded of yourself.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's heartbroken and enraged at the same time to find out you're dating someone.
Yandere!Hongjoong who doesn't sleep that night. He couldn't as his mind keeps replying your face again and again and he finds himself imagining what it would be like if your bf/gf is out of the picture.
Yandere!Hongjoong who smiles maniacally as it strikes him that he can make that thought come true as he jumps out of bed, rummaging through his drawers to find the handbook he keeps for storing phone numbers of people.
Yandere!Hongjoong who with a wide grin that stretches half his face finds the number he's been looking for as he dials it without second thought as it rings and he hears the voice at the other end.
Yandere!Hongjoong who talks about what he wants done and how it should be done with the person on the other end who happens to be a hitman from the underground market.
Yandere!Hongjoong who sleeps soundly after arranging everything and wiring the hefty amount of money to an offside account that belongs to the said hitman.
Yandere!Hongjoong who after a week sees your post dedicated to your deceased partner conveying your sorrow and grief, and how you went offline possibly taking a break.
Yandere!Hongjoong who reaches out finally after you come back online after a few weeks,conveying his condolences and with the farce of consoling you and being sorry for you, starts texting you.
Yandere!Hongjoong who after months of talking to you via text,video calls and phone calls meets you in person again in Seoul. (He came to know you love travelling and right now you're in Seoul. Couldn't be more Perfect for him and his plans)
Yandere!Hongjoong who gives off the perfectly gentlemanly vibes just like how you read in all the fanfictions you read of him and the others during late nights.
Yandere!Hongjoong who makes you forget you even had a partner all those months ago with how gentle and attentive he treats you.
Yandere!Hongjoong who drops you off at your hotel as he waves you goodbye and sees you off and waits until the lights on your room turns on.
Yandere!Hongjoong who takes you on several dates on the following days you stay in Korea and literally sweeps you off your feet by the way he treats you.
Yandere!Hongjoong who atlast confesses to you in the sweetest way possible on the last day of your trip with flowers and all with the most unsuspecting smile on his face which you misinterpreted as him being bashful.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's overjoyed at you accepting his confession and saying yes to him, because how could you not say yes to your Idol?.
Yandere!Hongjoong who hugs you extra tight at the airport with tears in his eyes which slide beneath the mask he's wearing.
Yandere!Hongjoong who catches you when you feel woozy and was about to crash to the floor.
Yandere!Hongjoong who rushes you to the hospital,frantically driving and nearly colliding with atleat 10 people and breaking all the goddamn traffic rules.
Yandere!Hongjoong who was holding your hand even when you're rushed to the Emergency room, fighting with the nurses who have had enough and calls the security to hold him back.
Yandere!Hongjoong who rushed in after the Doctors check up on you to hear the diagnosis only to freeze as he hears the word, "Pregnant".
Yandere!Hongjoong who snaps out of his momentary shock as he clasps the doctor's hands tightly thanking him again and again and demands that they discharge you right away because he has a private doctor who'll take care of you from then.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's looking at your unconsious form in his penthouse with the most lovesick smile on his face.
Yandere!Hongjoong who has already bound your hands and legs immobile by chaining you to his bed.
Yandere!Hongjoong who'll console you after you get up panicked, and try to make you understand that he couldn't take the risk of you flying back to your home country. What if someone else takes you away from him?. What if you break up with him because of the distance?.
Yandere!Hongjoong despite the circumstances will never reveal to you that you're pregnant. Not for now atleast.
Yandere!Hongjoong who'll also never reveal how HE got you pregnant.
Content warning: Implied Non con,pregnancy, restraint,implied kidnapping and much more
MDNI:DO NOT INTERACT (MINORS STAY THE HELL AWAY)
<A/N: Hongjoong according to me, is one of the most posessive members of Ateez when it comes to Atiny.....so....a short drabble for him because why not?>
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Hongjoong who was all accustomed to the screaming fans and the blaring lights of the ATEEZ’s send off area. Nothing unusual.
Hongjoong who keeps on smiling his signature idol smile and signing photocards and posters, gliding through the endless rows of Atinys.
Hongjoong who was signing your photocard and lifts his head to give you his practised words of encouragement and little praises that he usually gives out politely.
Hongjoong who lifted his head to look at you,the owner of the guerilla pc he just signed to freeze all together as he saw your face.
Hongjoong who has had his fair share of coming across pretty fans and even the wealthy ones. But never has he ever seen someone so pretty, so his type. So utterly captivating.
Hongjoong who's still frozen, lips parted in awe, when his manager next to him shakes him awake from the trance you put him on.
Hongjoong who looks dazedly at his manager and then at you to see you looking at him with wide shiny eyes, wordlessly expressing your admiration for him.
Hongjoong who asks you for your name and is positively surprised when he comes to know you run a fan page for him in social media.(You clearly told him that you run the page for all the members,but all he heard was how you run a page for HIM)
Hongjoong who's reluctant to leave the spot infront of you even when the other atinys are starting to get confused as to why he's not budging from the same spot he's been standing for 15 minutes now. Some are screaming and some are jealous by the way their eyes track you from head to toe.
Hongjoong who finally by the annoying insistence of his manager (as per his words) moves away from you still smiling like an idiot already in love. (it's love at first sight,Hongjoong would argue)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Yandere!Hongjoong who was in a daze the whole ride back to their hotel.
Yandere!Hongjoong who was clutching his phone tightly, bouncing on his seat,impatiently to get to their hotel, so that he could finally search your name up and find you through social media.( If he start looking you up in the van, the others will surely get a glimpse at what he's interested in and inevitably they'll find out about you)
Yandere!Hongjoong who practically stumbles out of the van before it could even stop fully, before prancing about to his room,ignoring the startled yells of both his manager and members (He nearly gave the elevator guy a heart attack with how fast he ran into the elevator with his phone clutched in his hands)
Yandere!Hongjoong who didn't even fully reach his room before his phone is out on his hands and his fingers are flying on the keyboard typing your fan page name and ultimately finding both your public user handle and your private one.
Yandere!Hongjoong who without hesitation presses follow on both your accounts and likes all the edits and fancams you uploaded of him.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's overjoyed when you accept his follow request on your private account.
Yandere!Hongjoong who tries to be discreet and wills himself to like only a few photos you uploaded of yourself.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's heartbroken and enraged at the same time to find out you're dating someone.
Yandere!Hongjoong who doesn't sleep that night. He couldn't as his mind keeps replying your face again and again and he finds himself imagining what it would be like if your bf/gf is out of the picture.
Yandere!Hongjoong who smiles maniacally as it strikes him that he can make that thought come true as he jumps out of bed, rummaging through his drawers to find the handbook he keeps for storing phone numbers of people.
Yandere!Hongjoong who with a wide grin that stretches half his face finds the number he's been looking for as he dials it without second thought as it rings and he hears the voice at the other end.
Yandere!Hongjoong who talks about what he wants done and how it should be done with the person on the other end who happens to be a hitman from the underground market.
Yandere!Hongjoong who sleeps soundly after arranging everything and wiring the hefty amount of money to an offside account that belongs to the said hitman.
Yandere!Hongjoong who after a week sees your post dedicated to your deceased partner conveying your sorrow and grief, and how you went offline possibly taking a break.
Yandere!Hongjoong who reaches out finally after you come back online after a few weeks,conveying his condolences and with the farce of consoling you and being sorry for you, starts texting you.
Yandere!Hongjoong who after months of talking to you via text,video calls and phone calls meets you in person again in Seoul. (He came to know you love travelling and right now you're in Seoul. Couldn't be more Perfect for him and his plans)
Yandere!Hongjoong who gives off the perfectly gentlemanly vibes just like how you read in all the fanfictions you read of him and the others during late nights.
Yandere!Hongjoong who makes you forget you even had a partner all those months ago with how gentle and attentive he treats you.
Yandere!Hongjoong who drops you off at your hotel as he waves you goodbye and sees you off and waits until the lights on your room turns on.
Yandere!Hongjoong who takes you on several dates on the following days you stay in Korea and literally sweeps you off your feet by the way he treats you.
Yandere!Hongjoong who atlast confesses to you in the sweetest way possible on the last day of your trip with flowers and all with the most unsuspecting smile on his face which you misinterpreted as him being bashful.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's overjoyed at you accepting his confession and saying yes to him, because how could you not say yes to your Idol?.
Yandere!Hongjoong who hugs you extra tight at the airport with tears in his eyes which slide beneath the mask he's wearing.
Yandere!Hongjoong who catches you when you feel woozy and was about to crash to the floor.
Yandere!Hongjoong who rushes you to the hospital,frantically driving and nearly colliding with atleat 10 people and breaking all the goddamn traffic rules.
Yandere!Hongjoong who was holding your hand even when you're rushed to the Emergency room, fighting with the nurses who have had enough and calls the security to hold him back.
Yandere!Hongjoong who rushed in after the Doctors check up on you to hear the diagnosis only to freeze as he hears the word, "Pregnant".
Yandere!Hongjoong who snaps out of his momentary shock as he clasps the doctor's hands tightly thanking him again and again and demands that they discharge you right away because he has a private doctor who'll take care of you from then.
Yandere!Hongjoong who's looking at your unconsious form in his penthouse with the most lovesick smile on his face.
Yandere!Hongjoong who has already bound your hands and legs immobile by chaining you to his bed.
Yandere!Hongjoong who'll console you after you get up panicked, and try to make you understand that he couldn't take the risk of you flying back to your home country. What if someone else takes you away from him?. What if you break up with him because of the distance?.
Yandere!Hongjoong despite the circumstances will never reveal to you that you're pregnant. Not for now atleast.
Yandere!Hongjoong who'll also never reveal how HE got you pregnant.
"YANDERE DEMONIC ROYALTY ATEEZ OT8 X WITCH/MEDIC READER"
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Trigger warning:contains dark and non con elements/torture/death and several others
You are responsible for the content you consume
<General Warnings:Dark AU,slow burn,smut eventually,non con/dub con elements,magic,coercion,manipulation,possessiveness,obsessiveness,literally more unhinged as it gets by,contains mature themes and dark contents,fighting scenes and if I forget anything..drop a message.>
Credits to the pic owner and do not copy my work.
<Chapter contains Smut under the cut>
[MDNI;DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST]
Not proofread, English is not my first language so, apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes.
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[A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I'm back and banging with the new chapter of "The Bleeding Noire". I thank each and every single reader who was patient and anticipated the release of this new chapter and encouraged me to write again. LOVE YA'LL, Mwah! <3. Happy reading!]
Series masterlist
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Rain pattered against the grounds of the grand palace of sertyok making the already looming nightly fog seem more ghostly.
The scent of ranunculuses drifts through the air of the east wing of the palace which is renowned to belong to none other than the eldest prince.
Footsteps.
Careful footsteps sounded over the pouring rain.
So careful that anyone would miss it.
But Wooyoung's head raises slowly from his chained up position and with his eyebrows pinched together in curiosity, he looks at the person who now enters into what is known to be one of the most intricate and hidden dungeons, the 8 princes own.
"Seonghwa hyung?",Wooyoung blinks for a second before his lips curve into a knowing smirk.
"Ha. When did you come back, Yunho?",Wooyoung says relaxing as he lays back against the walls lazily, his hands outstretched above him because of the chains, looking up at "Seonghwa" through his lashes.
Yunho crouches down to Wooyoung's level, transforming into himself and combing his fingers through the younger' head. The action casually intimate and so out of place, to be done at the dungeons and that too to his chained up brother.
Wooyoung observes Yunho as he continues stroking him. There is an unmistakable scent of something on Yunho and the said 'something' must be the cause of the unconsious smug expression he wears is and that's what Wooyoung concludes in his mind.
"You look like you did something", Wooyoung says in a tone of matter of fact.
"Spill"
"Nothing gets past you, huh?", Yunho lets his hands fall away from his head as he smiles at Wooyoung, but the younger one knows better than to actually believe it.
Silence stretches among them.
Because Wooyoung knows Yunho did something and Yunho knows that Wooyoung knows that he did something.
And they both know it has something to do with you.
"Why are you here?", Wooyoung's expression is guarded but no less curious as to why Yunho is here of all places and at this time that is.
Yunho chuckles.
"Aww, come on. I'm here because I'm worried about you", Yunho says, still smiling.
"Well, then let me ask you like this. Why aren't you in Hongjoong Hyung's room with her and what are you doing here when you surely know that Hongjoong hyung locked me up here?", Wooyoung asks,his jaws flexing highlighting his hollow cheeks making his expression look murderous.
"Ah, so you mean to tell me that it was Hongjoong hyung who did this?", Yunho exclaims with a piece of flesh in his hands, the part long dried out of blood and looking frilly and shrewd.
"No, that was Yeosang. He was already furious because of his argument with Hongjoong hyung and then I kissed her. And thus lost my tongue in the process, but hey I'm a velmorrin. So, no biggie", Wooyoung says clicking his tongue against his inner cheeks, the faint black and red veiny tissues along his jawline and the column of his throat indicating his already regenerated new tongue.
"That's totally on you, you know how Yeosang is when he's past his limit of tolerance to all our bullshit and yet you and Hongjoong hyung have a knack for bringing the worst out of him" Yunho says as he crushes Wooyoung's previously ripped out tongue in his palms. The shriveled up flesh turning into ash in no time.
"Ouch!. Hey! Have some courtesy! How could you do that to my tongue infront of me and so carelessly too?!", Wooyoung has a mock bewildered expression on his face, his face twisting into a look of utter horror and dramatic betrayal.
Yunho stands up and dusts himself off, his head raised towards the roof as he sighs.
"Did they tell you when they'll let you go?", Yunho looks over at Wooyoung as the latter just stares up at him with a blank expression and that is all the answer Yunho needs.
He sighs.
"Woo", Yunho calls out softly trying to provide whatever comfort he could at the moment. "Why do you look like-", Yunho' words are cut off by a resounding growl of frustration coming from none other than Wooyoung.
"God, I miss her so bad", Wooyoung's voice croaks out in a raw tone signalling the said man's distress at not being able to be with you. Yunho blinks before an airy chuckle escapes him.
"I was worried for a second, you little shit", Yunhos says, his voice carrying his amusement at the younger' very obvious distress caused by missing you.
A dry chuckle escapes Wooyoung from his kneeling position.
"You should be worried, Yunho", He says blankly, his tone not giving away whatever he means by that sentence. But alarms start ringing in Yunho's head as his eyes narrow towards Wooyoung.
He knows that tone.
It's the same tone Wooyoung uses whenever he's about to wreck havoc upon anyone and anything on his way.
The sound of Chains clinking together pulls Yunho out of his momentary daze as his whole body locks up, his hands freezing in their position by his torso.
In the corner of the room where he was previously chained, stands Wooyoung, the chains are at his feet.
Not the normal chains made of steel or iron or even titanium that they typically use for their own prisoners or humans.
The chains made by infusing 1000 angel's blood, lays uselessly by his feet, as Wooyoung cracks his neck, looking at Yunho with a devilish smirk.
"You know, you're impressive and You're fast when it comes to making moves, I have to give you that. I had an idea that you would do something,but never did I think you'll actually spoon feed her a Lamia's heart", Wooyoung says leaning casually and far too relaxed against the dungeon walls, picking at his finger nail beds.
The airy swoosh of a dagger flying and landing directly upon his chest makes Wooyoung shut up and look at the embedded metal in his ribs. With a chuckle, he extracts it out of his body with a single tug, confirming Yunho's suspicion.
"Where the actual hell are you right now?", the question Yunho asks is directed towards the actual Wooyoung through their shared mindlink, not at the Wooyoung standing infront of him.
Precisely one of the many clones Wooyoung himself creates out of himself for himself.
"Tsk, sometimes I wish you aren't as smart as you are but I'm still proud of you, my brother", Wooyoung's voice sounds distant in the link signalling that he's far away from wherever Yunho is, meaning he's far away from the east wing, as the clone infront of Yunho vanishes into thin air.
"WHERE.ARE.YOU?", The question rumbles out of Yunho, as he grits his teeth in frustration by the way Wooyoung is trying to dodge his question.
"You know exactly where I am. Come find me and maybe then you can see the real her", Wooyoung says, his tone giving no way to counter arguments as he adds, "And oh, i was told, the lamia heart was delicious. I've heard its considered a delicacy among the people of the North but it's my shadow's first time tasting it, thanks to you".
Wooyoung laughs as a loud crash is heard through his private mindlink with Yunho as his voice fades out signalling he ended their link. All while, Yunho looks at the now destroyed dungeon wall infront of him while his jaw flexes in pure ferocity at the audacious tone of his younger brother.
He's all used to it. But still, as he thinks of the way he bloodied his hands to get the Lamia's heart only for Wooyoung's another clone he made out of your form drink it, makes him furious.
How stupid of him.
All his work has gone down the drain, thanks to Wooyoung and his antics.
His very clever antics.
He's always known that all of his half brothers were as formidable as himself. Some more crueler. Some more subtler. Some more cunning. Some more chaotic.
But the thing is,Wooyoung is both Cunning and chaotic.
A deathly combo.
He knows that all his brothers are posessive and insane when it comes to the objects of their desires and possession.
And he knows for a fact that it won't be easy to win your favor.
Not with all of his brothers around.
And all of them even though some of them won't blatantly admit it, know it in their bones, that they'll absolutely kill for you, including themselves, and push themselves to demise if it comes down to it.
With that thought in mind, Yunho walks towards the now abandoned chambers of what used to be the residence of Concubine Jung, Wooyoung's mother.
The place doesn’t look like it's been abandoned at all. If he himself didn't witness the events that took place here, he would've thought that someone is actually still residing here.
Which is not exactly wrong, because Wooyoung loves this place.
He pushes the last corner's right door open and comes face to face with Ohn Duan, the personal knight who's also Wooyoung's sworn servant.
Yunho's face gives away no expression as Duan bows in greeting and points towards the balcony in the far end of the other side of the place.
"Took you long enough. I almost thought you weren't coming", Wooyoung's face mirrors the same blankness Yunho wears as he leans towards the decorative railings of the balcony.
"Where's she?", Yunho's voice is still blank and seemingly uninterested but betrays slight anticipation he tried and failed to reign in, because when it comes to you all of them lose their usual composure.
"Sleeping. My bite knocked her out. It's a given since Seonghwa hyung only marked her recently, but I'm not gonna let myself be at the hyungs' mercy waiting for my turn which may never come if they decide so", Wooyoung leans back, his robe open around his torso showcasing the hard muscles along the lines of his upper body as he spins a bark of osmanthus tree between his fingers.
That was the moment Yunho's eyes find the red and purple marks blooming along the column of Wooyoung's throat and the scratch marks near the nape of his neck and the very obvious scratch marks Wooyoung wears on his back.
Silence stretches between them as crickets crokle in a distance.
One look at Wooyoung and even an idiot would know what happened.
And Yunho is no idiot.
"I miscalculated the timings and intervals of the bond bites. Seems like i overestimated their patience. Seonghwa must have bitten her within 72 hours of Hongjoong biting her, isn't it?", Yunho exclaims, a solemn expression in his face which does not quite match the intensity of his thoughts which are racing miles per seconds.
Wooyoung does nothing but stretch like a lazy cat, deliberately showing off the marks you left on him after the events that happened in this very residence which took place after he teleported you from Hongjoong's room when his elder brothers and yeosang left the room after Seonghwa impatiently bit you, talking in hushed voices as to not disturb you.
All while the real Wooyoung was under your bed waiting patiently to whisk you away.
They thought they threw him into the dungeons and chained him up to teach him a lesson on patience as per Yeosang's words.
Little did the three of them know, it was Wooyoung's shadow clone that he created that was chained up.
And, the minute he entered your room earlier, he deliberately made a clone out of himself and all the events that followed was as per what Wooyoung precalculated his brothers would do.
-------------<4 hours earlier>------------
[After Hongjoong,Seonghwa and Yeosang left]
Wooyoung crawls out from under the bed and scoops your unconsious form from the bed and lays your head comfortably against his chest and teleports to a place he wanted to keep you in.
If he can, He'll keep you there forever.
His late mother's residence.
But, the moment he teleported back to his mother's chambers with you in his arms, you woke with a flinch. Sweat drenching every crevice of your body and Wooyoung knew exactly what what happening.
He anticipated it.
He knows.
Everyone in sertyok and in the demonic realm knows, that the bite between mates should be done with proper care and if it comes down to a person having several mates, precautionary time intervals between each bites should be given.
If not, the person experiences what is known as "Bond aspiration/frenzy" Where they go into a maniacal state of intense and aggrevating sexual hunger.
For their mates precisely.
And Seonghwa, Yeosang and Hongjoong overestimated that the said aspiration would start only after a day.
They seemed to have skimmed over the fact that it was only applicable to Normal peasants and other creatures.
Not to the one who belonged to the most powerful witch lineage.
You opened your eyes to look into familiar obsidian ones staring right back at you and you nothing but all jump out of his arms, panting and looking around, but your mind feels strangely foggy and you can't think at all, you start pulling at your own hair at the strange feeling that's spreading all over your body radiating the strongest near your collarbones where your bond mark is located.
You lift your head up to look at the person who was holding you in his arms.
Wooyoung was'nt he? That's what you remember his name being.
"What the actual heck is wrong with me-" an unconsious groan tears out of your throat as another wave of heat spreads through your body while a voice inside your head starts chanting.
Bond.Mate.Bond.Mate.
You clutch your head with a wince.
Fucking hell.
Another set of hands wrap around yours gently massaging your temples.
You look up at him.
And you blink once and then twice.
You must have gone insane.
That's it.
Because how else can you explain this strange feeling of your heart fluttering and thumping against your chest all of a sudden at his gentle demeanor?.
Why does he look attractive to you and too in this situation?
You don't have any explanation and you dont think about anything when you pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his on pure instinct.
To your surprise, he doesn't seem fazed at all at your strange behaviour. Even more surprisingly, he threads his fingers into your hair pulling you closer as your lips start moving against each other's.
You move backwards until your legs hit the edge of a wooden table that looks grandiose with stacks of papers and ink at the middle.
But Wooyoung doesn’t seem to care about anything other than you.
He swipes his palms against the surface of the table and the sound of the ink pettle clattering to the ground along with the scattered papers that now lays on the floor in a mess registers in some faraway part of your brain as he breaks the kiss, swiping his thumb along your lower lip with a grin and lifts you up making you sit at the table as he makes himself stand comfortably between your parted legs.
"Something's wrong with me", your voice comes out in a whisper in the far too- quiet- for -your- comfort chambers.
"Hmm?", Wooyoung, all but hums, acting oblivious against your lips as he moves down to your throat, leaving kisses along the path of his lips.
Your mind is a mess.
You don’t know what's happening and why it's happening but as you look down at your fingers when you feel some sort of wetness seeping through them, you freeze.
Blood.
You have blood on your hands and you look at his neck.
He's bleeding.
The area near the nape of his neck is bleeding only a little, but still you very obviously feel the wetness of the blood.
It's weird.
You're not disgusted at all.
And then another wave of tge same feeling passes and Something snaps inside you as your eyes go blank and then at the next moment, darkens.
You don’t register your own hands clawing at his shirt, basically ripping it out of impatience, as you latch your lips to his throat, biting and Licking.
You bite his earlobe and trace your tongue along his jawline and taste something sweet with hints of metal. You blink hazedly, and look what tastes so sweet on your tongue and to your horror realize, it's his blood.
Wooyoung just grins and pushes your head towards where your nails made their mark encouraging you to drink.
You hesitate for a moment.
But the taste of his blood still on your tongue pushes you to lap at his neck, as you lick him clean.
No time to be disgusted when his blood tastes good to you.
-------------[Warning:Smut]-------------
A satisfied moan tears out of his mouth at your eager lapping at his neck before he's pulling your head off from his neck,kissing you feverishly.
His lips trace a path along your throat. Another moan sounds and bounces off the walls, but this time, from you, as he nibbles the skin.
You stare dazedly at him for a moment before pulling him in for another kiss, as you open your legs wider rubbing your core against his body, seeking friction. Wooyoung follows suit, as he starts rubbing his clothed cock against your clothed thighs.
"Ah, W-wooyoung", you're literally shaking against him, delirious because of the unknown sensations spreading through your body.
His pupils dilate at your shaky tone as his canines start protruding, his eyes going the typical velmorrin black. A soft 'uff' escapes you as you glide through air and land back in a mattress. You lift your head up to see the massive chandelier above glinting with lights but somehow the room is still dim lighted.
You're in another room.
Wooyoung stands at the edge of the bed, your foot in his hold, as he kisses each and every single one of your toes,looking every bit of a devotee worshipping his goddess at the altar.
The scene is poetic.
You lean up, clawing at his shirt as he helps you by ripping it open and throwing the tethering scraps of what used to be his shirt away to some corner of the room.
His room.
The room he spent most of his early years in.
The room where he hid, cowering in fear as the grand king's guards a.k.a his beloved father's guards continued slashing his mother's back open with a sharp edged cord.
Tears blur his vision as he rests his forehead in your heel.
The first drops of his tears coat the soles of your foot as he unbuttons his pants and soon leaves them to join the rest of his discarded clothes.
You get no warning.
You feel the air shifting and a soft sound escapes you and your clothes are gone in an instant as he starts getting visibly more impatient by the minute.
Cool air hits your body as you shiver lightly.
Your hair falls in a halo around your head in your position among the pillows as he looks at you adoringly with twisted infatuation and,slowly, while maintaining eye contact to make sure you're looking at him and only him, lowers his head to your now exposed bare pussy.
His tongue darts out to lick a fat and greedy stripe from your hole to your clit.
The taste of you is heavenly on his tongue and with a raw and guttural moan he dives in again but this time he does not hold himself back as he licks,sucks and even nibbles at your most intimate area like he's making out with your pussy.
Your head is thrown back, back arched like a bow as dirty moans spill free out of your lips. Unguarded and desperate. Your hands find purchase in his head which only seems to motivate him to do more. Your release gushes out of you without any warning and only when he lifts his head up to look at you dazedly, do you register the amount of liquid coating his chin, face and some even on his neck; dribbling down past his chest.
"Never did I imagine such heavenly virtue be bestowed upon me nor did i ever think i was ever worthy, angel. But fuck me, if its not the sexiest thing I've had the pleasure of witnessing in my life, I don't know what is. Seems like You're a squirter, huh?", a mischievous grin makes it's way onto his face as he crawls up and comes face to face to you as his hands start slowly massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching at your nipple, rolling them and toying with them, making you yelp.
The sensations are too much and your body is too hot. You can't take it anymore.
"Please. Please just do something. I don't think I can take it anymore. Why does it seem to worsen when I-", a hiccup escapes you. "When I cum?", you say as you grit your teeth as another wave of heat passes from your neck to your lower body.
The pain is throbbing and unrelenting as it rolls out all throughout your body.
It's making you insane.
The pain is unlike anything you've witnessed before. It is annoying in a way. Not quite going away and only keeps increasing as the clock ticks.
He chuckles as his lips form a pout as he coos at you, wiping the sweat dripping off your forehead with gentle hands as he shushes you, whispering words of comfort. But even through your lust fogged mind, you can clearly see his actions do not match the dark, satisfied gleam in his eyes, like he enjoys you being at his mercy.
Two of his fingers finds your wet core as he starts spearing them through your hole. An airy 'ah' escapes you, as pleasure spreads throughout your body and unbridled moans from you follow the sounds of his fingers sloshing against your hole.
Wooyoung is officially a goner.
He starts blabbering like a madman.
"I love you. I love you. I love you, my sweet little angel. Say it back. Say you love me. Say.it", His face is inches from yours and fingers stop their minsitrations all together,stilling inside you,as dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight stay fixated on your form, waiting for you to say the words.
The underlying threat is very clear.
If you don't say what he wants you to say, He'll stop.
You try to not answer. Key word: TRY.
You try looking away to gather some semblance of your remaining sanity.
But Wooyoung is already tethering on edge.
He smooshes your cheeks between his fingers as his wildly unhinged eyes find yours, daring you to look away from him again.
"Say.it.Angel. Come on, say it baby. It's just a few words. They'll make me happy, If you say them. I'll be very happy, Pretty please?", his eyes though dark, holds hints of intense and impatient longing as he tries to break your stubborn intent,emotionally manipulating you.
Even though he's manipulating you and coaxing you and you're very well aware of it even in your lust driven haze, he looks like a desperate pup, looking at you like that.
Maybe that's why you're resolve breaks and the words tumble out of you without caution.
"Love you-", only a millisecond passes before his mouth is onto you, lips finding purchase near the base of your throat, sharp canines sinking in as he thrusts his cock inside your pussy without any warning. Your body does it again. It seizes up and your mouth falls open in a loud scream which soon turns into a broken pitch of pleasure as he stuffs your hole to the max, stretching it beyond what you knew was possible.
He pulls away with a groan licking at his lips where the remnants of your blood remain as the new bond mark blooms.
His mark.
He pulls his cock out all way only to thrust it back inside you more brutally as strings of satisfied laughter escapes him from above you.
Your jaw slackens as drool slips past your lips as mind numbing pleasure overtakes your senses and a series of low pitched sounds of pleasure escape you.
Your legs wraps themselves around his waist accommodating him to go deeper as his hands find your still bloody throat squeezing and choking lightly. Wooyoung knows for a fact, that If he were to use even half of his strength, He'll end up breaking your neck.
So he's careful and mindful.
The room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against each other as the room emits a strong redolent of sex.
He pulls your body up towards him, still thrusting inside you like a raged bull; smashing his lips against yours in a wet kiss.
"Cum for me angel. Cum for your Wooyoung", he says in a whiny,breathy tone, nose touching yours in a way that makes your stomach do flips.
"Fuck- ngh", that's all the answer he gets as your release gushes out of you coating his cock, down to his balls, glistening and making it more slippery.
He follows, with his own release shooting out of him in spurts as strings of curses fall from his lips; his cum getting embedded directly into your womb.
Your mind crashes at last,as you go limbless from the mind numbing orgasm and the series of events that took place tonight. He catches you before your spine decides to give up on your stature as he lays you back gently, making sure you're surrounded by soft pillows and pulling the weighted blanket on top of your naked body.
After kissing your forehead and throwing a robe on himself, he goes to the balcony situated in the other part of the residence because he knows for a fact that Yunho will find him in no time.
It's long overdue for Yunho to arrive.
-------------End of flashback------------
"Fine. Stop showing off, asshole", Yunho hits the backside of Wooyoung's head at the younger' deliberate display of showing off the fresh marks you left on him.
Yunho wouldn't admit it even if he swallows a truth serum.
But Wooyoung's level of trickery and cunning does impress him in the slightest.
"Ha. You wish you were me, huh?", Wooyoung taunts,with one of the most obvious shit eating grins stretched on his face, making him look like a lunatic.
"So, What do you plan on doing now?", Yunho probes slightly, anticipation bleeding into his tone because of the small possibility of getting his hands on you and keeping you for himself for a time being, if Wooyoung decided to let a bit loose on his hold over you,since he already claimed you.
"Nothing. She's back at Hongjoong Hyung's room", Wooyoung says plainly, looking to the far end on the balcony, his arms holding the railings.
"You did what?!", Yunho's face breaks as pure disappointment paints his features.
He thought he would get some time with you. Some undisturbed peace and quiet so he could leisurely admire you and observe you. That dream was shattered by Wooyoung's relevation that he teleported you back to Hongjoong’s room.
Wooyoung snickers at Yunho's blatant disappointment. The midnight air is cool against both their skin.
He straightens up.
"Now, it's time for me to go. I have something important to do. Try to have a good night", Wooyoung says fixing his robe which has fallen open as he tucks the osmanthus bark inside his pockets for safekeeping and vanishes into thin air, teleporting to who knows where.
But Yunho has an idea as to where Wooyoung disappeared off to.
And thus decides to leave him alone.
Yunho stands alone in the balcony of the garindoise residence of what used to be Wooyoung's home.
It still is his home.
But some things are better left not being reminded about.
And this is one of those things, for Wooyoung.
"Happy birthday, Concubine Jung", the words tumble out of Yunho in a soundless whisper which disappears into the sounds of the night as he looks at the moon lit sky.
"It's been a century since your death. Your son is wrecking havoc upon everything and everyone. Very unlike of how you wanted him to turn out. But the rest of us aren't any better. Somehow this time, he and the rest of us found someone worth keeping by our sides. Please grant us your blessings and protection. And, please protect her too, even from us if it comes down to it", the breeze flows from the garden below the balcony carrying Yunho's whispered words along with it.
The gentle breeze feels like a gentle caress against his cheeks, exactly like the ones of reassurance, Mother Jung or Concubine Jung, used to give them all.
She was an angel among the people of the sertyok court.
And maybe that's why she was executed.
Because in a kingdom like sertyok, being kind gets you killed.
"YANDERE DEMONIC ROYALTY ATEEZ OT8 X WITCH/MEDIC READER"
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Trigger warning:contains dark and non con elements/torture/death and several others
You are responsible for the content you consume
<General Warnings:Dark AU,slow burn,smut eventually,non con/dub con elements,magic,coercion,manipulation,possessiveness,obsessiveness,literally more unhinged as it gets by,contains mature themes and dark contents,fighting scenes and if I forget anything..drop a message.>
Credits to the pic owner and do not copy my work.
<Chapter contains Smut under the cut>
[MDNI;DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST]
Not proofread, English is not my first language so, apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes.
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[A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I'm back and banging with the new chapter of "The Bleeding Noire". I thank each and every single reader who was patient and anticipated the release of this new chapter and encouraged me to write again. LOVE YA'LL, Mwah! <3. Happy reading!]
Series masterlist
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Rain pattered against the grounds of the grand palace of sertyok making the already looming nightly fog seem more ghostly.
The scent of ranunculuses drifts through the air of the east wing of the palace which is renowned to belong to none other than the eldest prince.
Footsteps.
Careful footsteps sounded over the pouring rain.
So careful that anyone would miss it.
But Wooyoung's head raises slowly from his chained up position and with his eyebrows pinched together in curiosity, he looks at the person who now enters into what is known to be one of the most intricate and hidden dungeons, the 8 princes own.
"Seonghwa hyung?",Wooyoung blinks for a second before his lips curve into a knowing smirk.
"Ha. When did you come back, Yunho?",Wooyoung says relaxing as he lays back against the walls lazily, his hands outstretched above him because of the chains, looking up at "Seonghwa" through his lashes.
Yunho crouches down to Wooyoung's level, transforming into himself and combing his fingers through the younger' head. The action casually intimate and so out of place, to be done at the dungeons and that too to his chained up brother.
Wooyoung observes Yunho as he continues stroking him. There is an unmistakable scent of something on Yunho and the said 'something' must be the cause of the unconsious smug expression he wears is and that's what Wooyoung concludes in his mind.
"You look like you did something", Wooyoung says in a tone of matter of fact.
"Spill"
"Nothing gets past you, huh?", Yunho lets his hands fall away from his head as he smiles at Wooyoung, but the younger one knows better than to actually believe it.
Silence stretches among them.
Because Wooyoung knows Yunho did something and Yunho knows that Wooyoung knows that he did something.
And they both know it has something to do with you.
"Why are you here?", Wooyoung's expression is guarded but no less curious as to why Yunho is here of all places and at this time that is.
Yunho chuckles.
"Aww, come on. I'm here because I'm worried about you", Yunho says, still smiling.
"Well, then let me ask you like this. Why aren't you in Hongjoong Hyung's room with her and what are you doing here when you surely know that Hongjoong hyung locked me up here?", Wooyoung asks,his jaws flexing highlighting his hollow cheeks making his expression look murderous.
"Ah, so you mean to tell me that it was Hongjoong hyung who did this?", Yunho exclaims with a piece of flesh in his hands, the part long dried out of blood and looking frilly and shrewd.
"No, that was Yeosang. He was already furious because of his argument with Hongjoong hyung and then I kissed her. And thus lost my tongue in the process, but hey I'm a velmorrin. So, no biggie", Wooyoung says clicking his tongue against his inner cheeks, the faint black and red veiny tissues along his jawline and the column of his throat indicating his already regenerated new tongue.
"That's totally on you, you know how Yeosang is when he's past his limit of tolerance to all our bullshit and yet you and Hongjoong hyung have a knack for bringing the worst out of him" Yunho says as he crushes Wooyoung's previously ripped out tongue in his palms. The shriveled up flesh turning into ash in no time.
"Ouch!. Hey! Have some courtesy! How could you do that to my tongue infront of me and so carelessly too?!", Wooyoung has a mock bewildered expression on his face, his face twisting into a look of utter horror and dramatic betrayal.
Yunho stands up and dusts himself off, his head raised towards the roof as he sighs.
"Did they tell you when they'll let you go?", Yunho looks over at Wooyoung as the latter just stares up at him with a blank expression and that is all the answer Yunho needs.
He sighs.
"Woo", Yunho calls out softly trying to provide whatever comfort he could at the moment. "Why do you look like-", Yunho' words are cut off by a resounding growl of frustration coming from none other than Wooyoung.
"God, I miss her so bad", Wooyoung's voice croaks out in a raw tone signalling the said man's distress at not being able to be with you. Yunho blinks before an airy chuckle escapes him.
"I was worried for a second, you little shit", Yunhos says, his voice carrying his amusement at the younger' very obvious distress caused by missing you.
A dry chuckle escapes Wooyoung from his kneeling position.
"You should be worried, Yunho", He says blankly, his tone not giving away whatever he means by that sentence. But alarms start ringing in Yunho's head as his eyes narrow towards Wooyoung.
He knows that tone.
It's the same tone Wooyoung uses whenever he's about to wreck havoc upon anyone and anything on his way.
The sound of Chains clinking together pulls Yunho out of his momentary daze as his whole body locks up, his hands freezing in their position by his torso.
In the corner of the room where he was previously chained, stands Wooyoung, the chains are at his feet.
Not the normal chains made of steel or iron or even titanium that they typically use for their own prisoners or humans.
The chains made by infusing 1000 angel's blood, lays uselessly by his feet, as Wooyoung cracks his neck, looking at Yunho with a devilish smirk.
"You know, you're impressive and You're fast when it comes to making moves, I have to give you that. I had an idea that you would do something,but never did I think you'll actually spoon feed her a Lamia's heart", Wooyoung says leaning casually and far too relaxed against the dungeon walls, picking at his finger nail beds.
The airy swoosh of a dagger flying and landing directly upon his chest makes Wooyoung shut up and look at the embedded metal in his ribs. With a chuckle, he extracts it out of his body with a single tug, confirming Yunho's suspicion.
"Where the actual hell are you right now?", the question Yunho asks is directed towards the actual Wooyoung through their shared mindlink, not at the Wooyoung standing infront of him.
Precisely one of the many clones Wooyoung himself creates out of himself for himself.
"Tsk, sometimes I wish you aren't as smart as you are but I'm still proud of you, my brother", Wooyoung's voice sounds distant in the link signalling that he's far away from wherever Yunho is, meaning he's far away from the east wing, as the clone infront of Yunho vanishes into thin air.
"WHERE.ARE.YOU?", The question rumbles out of Yunho, as he grits his teeth in frustration by the way Wooyoung is trying to dodge his question.
"You know exactly where I am. Come find me and maybe then you can see the real her", Wooyoung says, his tone giving no way to counter arguments as he adds, "And oh, i was told, the lamia heart was delicious. I've heard its considered a delicacy among the people of the North but it's my shadow's first time tasting it, thanks to you".
Wooyoung laughs as a loud crash is heard through his private mindlink with Yunho as his voice fades out signalling he ended their link. All while, Yunho looks at the now destroyed dungeon wall infront of him while his jaw flexes in pure ferocity at the audacious tone of his younger brother.
He's all used to it. But still, as he thinks of the way he bloodied his hands to get the Lamia's heart only for Wooyoung's another clone he made out of your form drink it, makes him furious.
How stupid of him.
All his work has gone down the drain, thanks to Wooyoung and his antics.
His very clever antics.
He's always known that all of his half brothers were as formidable as himself. Some more crueler. Some more subtler. Some more cunning. Some more chaotic.
But the thing is,Wooyoung is both Cunning and chaotic.
A deathly combo.
He knows that all his brothers are posessive and insane when it comes to the objects of their desires and possession.
And he knows for a fact that it won't be easy to win your favor.
Not with all of his brothers around.
And all of them even though some of them won't blatantly admit it, know it in their bones, that they'll absolutely kill for you, including themselves, and push themselves to demise if it comes down to it.
With that thought in mind, Yunho walks towards the now abandoned chambers of what used to be the residence of Concubine Jung, Wooyoung's mother.
The place doesn’t look like it's been abandoned at all. If he himself didn't witness the events that took place here, he would've thought that someone is actually still residing here.
Which is not exactly wrong, because Wooyoung loves this place.
He pushes the last corner's right door open and comes face to face with Ohn Duan, the personal knight who's also Wooyoung's sworn servant.
Yunho's face gives away no expression as Duan bows in greeting and points towards the balcony in the far end of the other side of the place.
"Took you long enough. I almost thought you weren't coming", Wooyoung's face mirrors the same blankness Yunho wears as he leans towards the decorative railings of the balcony.
"Where's she?", Yunho's voice is still blank and seemingly uninterested but betrays slight anticipation he tried and failed to reign in, because when it comes to you all of them lose their usual composure.
"Sleeping. My bite knocked her out. It's a given since Seonghwa hyung only marked her recently, but I'm not gonna let myself be at the hyungs' mercy waiting for my turn which may never come if they decide so", Wooyoung leans back, his robe open around his torso showcasing the hard muscles along the lines of his upper body as he spins a bark of osmanthus tree between his fingers.
That was the moment Yunho's eyes find the red and purple marks blooming along the column of Wooyoung's throat and the scratch marks near the nape of his neck and the very obvious scratch marks Wooyoung wears on his back.
Silence stretches between them as crickets crokle in a distance.
One look at Wooyoung and even an idiot would know what happened.
And Yunho is no idiot.
"I miscalculated the timings and intervals of the bond bites. Seems like i overestimated their patience. Seonghwa must have bitten her within 72 hours of Hongjoong biting her, isn't it?", Yunho exclaims, a solemn expression in his face which does not quite match the intensity of his thoughts which are racing miles per seconds.
Wooyoung does nothing but stretch like a lazy cat, deliberately showing off the marks you left on him after the events that happened in this very residence which took place after he teleported you from Hongjoong's room when his elder brothers and yeosang left the room after Seonghwa impatiently bit you, talking in hushed voices as to not disturb you.
All while the real Wooyoung was under your bed waiting patiently to whisk you away.
They thought they threw him into the dungeons and chained him up to teach him a lesson on patience as per Yeosang's words.
Little did the three of them know, it was Wooyoung's shadow clone that he created that was chained up.
And, the minute he entered your room earlier, he deliberately made a clone out of himself and all the events that followed was as per what Wooyoung precalculated his brothers would do.
-------------<4 hours earlier>------------
[After Hongjoong,Seonghwa and Yeosang left]
Wooyoung crawls out from under the bed and scoops your unconsious form from the bed and lays your head comfortably against his chest and teleports to a place he wanted to keep you in.
If he can, He'll keep you there forever.
His late mother's residence.
But, the moment he teleported back to his mother's chambers with you in his arms, you woke with a flinch. Sweat drenching every crevice of your body and Wooyoung knew exactly what what happening.
He anticipated it.
He knows.
Everyone in sertyok and in the demonic realm knows, that the bite between mates should be done with proper care and if it comes down to a person having several mates, precautionary time intervals between each bites should be given.
If not, the person experiences what is known as "Bond aspiration/frenzy" Where they go into a maniacal state of intense and aggrevating sexual hunger.
For their mates precisely.
And Seonghwa, Yeosang and Hongjoong overestimated that the said aspiration would start only after a day.
They seemed to have skimmed over the fact that it was only applicable to Normal peasants and other creatures.
Not to the one who belonged to the most powerful witch lineage.
You opened your eyes to look into familiar obsidian ones staring right back at you and you nothing but all jump out of his arms, panting and looking around, but your mind feels strangely foggy and you can't think at all, you start pulling at your own hair at the strange feeling that's spreading all over your body radiating the strongest near your collarbones where your bond mark is located.
You lift your head up to look at the person who was holding you in his arms.
Wooyoung was'nt he? That's what you remember his name being.
"What the actual heck is wrong with me-" an unconsious groan tears out of your throat as another wave of heat spreads through your body while a voice inside your head starts chanting.
Bond.Mate.Bond.Mate.
You clutch your head with a wince.
Fucking hell.
Another set of hands wrap around yours gently massaging your temples.
You look up at him.
And you blink once and then twice.
You must have gone insane.
That's it.
Because how else can you explain this strange feeling of your heart fluttering and thumping against your chest all of a sudden at his gentle demeanor?.
Why does he look attractive to you and too in this situation?
You don't have any explanation and you dont think about anything when you pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his on pure instinct.
To your surprise, he doesn't seem fazed at all at your strange behaviour. Even more surprisingly, he threads his fingers into your hair pulling you closer as your lips start moving against each other's.
You move backwards until your legs hit the edge of a wooden table that looks grandiose with stacks of papers and ink at the middle.
But Wooyoung doesn’t seem to care about anything other than you.
He swipes his palms against the surface of the table and the sound of the ink pettle clattering to the ground along with the scattered papers that now lays on the floor in a mess registers in some faraway part of your brain as he breaks the kiss, swiping his thumb along your lower lip with a grin and lifts you up making you sit at the table as he makes himself stand comfortably between your parted legs.
"Something's wrong with me", your voice comes out in a whisper in the far too- quiet- for -your- comfort chambers.
"Hmm?", Wooyoung, all but hums, acting oblivious against your lips as he moves down to your throat, leaving kisses along the path of his lips.
Your mind is a mess.
You don’t know what's happening and why it's happening but as you look down at your fingers when you feel some sort of wetness seeping through them, you freeze.
Blood.
You have blood on your hands and you look at his neck.
He's bleeding.
The area near the nape of his neck is bleeding only a little, but still you very obviously feel the wetness of the blood.
It's weird.
You're not disgusted at all.
And then another wave of tge same feeling passes and Something snaps inside you as your eyes go blank and then at the next moment, darkens.
You don’t register your own hands clawing at his shirt, basically ripping it out of impatience, as you latch your lips to his throat, biting and Licking.
You bite his earlobe and trace your tongue along his jawline and taste something sweet with hints of metal. You blink hazedly, and look what tastes so sweet on your tongue and to your horror realize, it's his blood.
Wooyoung just grins and pushes your head towards where your nails made their mark encouraging you to drink.
You hesitate for a moment.
But the taste of his blood still on your tongue pushes you to lap at his neck, as you lick him clean.
No time to be disgusted when his blood tastes good to you.
-------------[Warning:Smut]-------------
A satisfied moan tears out of his mouth at your eager lapping at his neck before he's pulling your head off from his neck,kissing you feverishly.
His lips trace a path along your throat. Another moan sounds and bounces off the walls, but this time, from you, as he nibbles the skin.
You stare dazedly at him for a moment before pulling him in for another kiss, as you open your legs wider rubbing your core against his body, seeking friction. Wooyoung follows suit, as he starts rubbing his clothed cock against your clothed thighs.
"Ah, W-wooyoung", you're literally shaking against him, delirious because of the unknown sensations spreading through your body.
His pupils dilate at your shaky tone as his canines start protruding, his eyes going the typical velmorrin black. A soft 'uff' escapes you as you glide through air and land back in a mattress. You lift your head up to see the massive chandelier above glinting with lights but somehow the room is still dim lighted.
You're in another room.
Wooyoung stands at the edge of the bed, your foot in his hold, as he kisses each and every single one of your toes,looking every bit of a devotee worshipping his goddess at the altar.
The scene is poetic.
You lean up, clawing at his shirt as he helps you by ripping it open and throwing the tethering scraps of what used to be his shirt away to some corner of the room.
His room.
The room he spent most of his early years in.
The room where he hid, cowering in fear as the grand king's guards a.k.a his beloved father's guards continued slashing his mother's back open with a sharp edged cord.
Tears blur his vision as he rests his forehead in your heel.
The first drops of his tears coat the soles of your foot as he unbuttons his pants and soon leaves them to join the rest of his discarded clothes.
You get no warning.
You feel the air shifting and a soft sound escapes you and your clothes are gone in an instant as he starts getting visibly more impatient by the minute.
Cool air hits your body as you shiver lightly.
Your hair falls in a halo around your head in your position among the pillows as he looks at you adoringly with twisted infatuation and,slowly, while maintaining eye contact to make sure you're looking at him and only him, lowers his head to your now exposed bare pussy.
His tongue darts out to lick a fat and greedy stripe from your hole to your clit.
The taste of you is heavenly on his tongue and with a raw and guttural moan he dives in again but this time he does not hold himself back as he licks,sucks and even nibbles at your most intimate area like he's making out with your pussy.
Your head is thrown back, back arched like a bow as dirty moans spill free out of your lips. Unguarded and desperate. Your hands find purchase in his head which only seems to motivate him to do more. Your release gushes out of you without any warning and only when he lifts his head up to look at you dazedly, do you register the amount of liquid coating his chin, face and some even on his neck; dribbling down past his chest.
"Never did I imagine such heavenly virtue be bestowed upon me nor did i ever think i was ever worthy, angel. But fuck me, if its not the sexiest thing I've had the pleasure of witnessing in my life, I don't know what is. Seems like You're a squirter, huh?", a mischievous grin makes it's way onto his face as he crawls up and comes face to face to you as his hands start slowly massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching at your nipple, rolling them and toying with them, making you yelp.
The sensations are too much and your body is too hot. You can't take it anymore.
"Please. Please just do something. I don't think I can take it anymore. Why does it seem to worsen when I-", a hiccup escapes you. "When I cum?", you say as you grit your teeth as another wave of heat passes from your neck to your lower body.
The pain is throbbing and unrelenting as it rolls out all throughout your body.
It's making you insane.
The pain is unlike anything you've witnessed before. It is annoying in a way. Not quite going away and only keeps increasing as the clock ticks.
He chuckles as his lips form a pout as he coos at you, wiping the sweat dripping off your forehead with gentle hands as he shushes you, whispering words of comfort. But even through your lust fogged mind, you can clearly see his actions do not match the dark, satisfied gleam in his eyes, like he enjoys you being at his mercy.
Two of his fingers finds your wet core as he starts spearing them through your hole. An airy 'ah' escapes you, as pleasure spreads throughout your body and unbridled moans from you follow the sounds of his fingers sloshing against your hole.
Wooyoung is officially a goner.
He starts blabbering like a madman.
"I love you. I love you. I love you, my sweet little angel. Say it back. Say you love me. Say.it", His face is inches from yours and fingers stop their minsitrations all together,stilling inside you,as dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight stay fixated on your form, waiting for you to say the words.
The underlying threat is very clear.
If you don't say what he wants you to say, He'll stop.
You try to not answer. Key word: TRY.
You try looking away to gather some semblance of your remaining sanity.
But Wooyoung is already tethering on edge.
He smooshes your cheeks between his fingers as his wildly unhinged eyes find yours, daring you to look away from him again.
"Say.it.Angel. Come on, say it baby. It's just a few words. They'll make me happy, If you say them. I'll be very happy, Pretty please?", his eyes though dark, holds hints of intense and impatient longing as he tries to break your stubborn intent,emotionally manipulating you.
Even though he's manipulating you and coaxing you and you're very well aware of it even in your lust driven haze, he looks like a desperate pup, looking at you like that.
Maybe that's why you're resolve breaks and the words tumble out of you without caution.
"Love you-", only a millisecond passes before his mouth is onto you, lips finding purchase near the base of your throat, sharp canines sinking in as he thrusts his cock inside your pussy without any warning. Your body does it again. It seizes up and your mouth falls open in a loud scream which soon turns into a broken pitch of pleasure as he stuffs your hole to the max, stretching it beyond what you knew was possible.
He pulls away with a groan licking at his lips where the remnants of your blood remain as the new bond mark blooms.
His mark.
He pulls his cock out all way only to thrust it back inside you more brutally as strings of satisfied laughter escapes him from above you.
Your jaw slackens as drool slips past your lips as mind numbing pleasure overtakes your senses and a series of low pitched sounds of pleasure escape you.
Your legs wraps themselves around his waist accommodating him to go deeper as his hands find your still bloody throat squeezing and choking lightly. Wooyoung knows for a fact, that If he were to use even half of his strength, He'll end up breaking your neck.
So he's careful and mindful.
The room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against each other as the room emits a strong redolent of sex.
He pulls your body up towards him, still thrusting inside you like a raged bull; smashing his lips against yours in a wet kiss.
"Cum for me angel. Cum for your Wooyoung", he says in a whiny,breathy tone, nose touching yours in a way that makes your stomach do flips.
"Fuck- ngh", that's all the answer he gets as your release gushes out of you coating his cock, down to his balls, glistening and making it more slippery.
He follows, with his own release shooting out of him in spurts as strings of curses fall from his lips; his cum getting embedded directly into your womb.
Your mind crashes at last,as you go limbless from the mind numbing orgasm and the series of events that took place tonight. He catches you before your spine decides to give up on your stature as he lays you back gently, making sure you're surrounded by soft pillows and pulling the weighted blanket on top of your naked body.
After kissing your forehead and throwing a robe on himself, he goes to the balcony situated in the other part of the residence because he knows for a fact that Yunho will find him in no time.
It's long overdue for Yunho to arrive.
-------------End of flashback------------
"Fine. Stop showing off, asshole", Yunho hits the backside of Wooyoung's head at the younger' deliberate display of showing off the fresh marks you left on him.
Yunho wouldn't admit it even if he swallows a truth serum.
But Wooyoung's level of trickery and cunning does impress him in the slightest.
"Ha. You wish you were me, huh?", Wooyoung taunts,with one of the most obvious shit eating grins stretched on his face, making him look like a lunatic.
"So, What do you plan on doing now?", Yunho probes slightly, anticipation bleeding into his tone because of the small possibility of getting his hands on you and keeping you for himself for a time being, if Wooyoung decided to let a bit loose on his hold over you,since he already claimed you.
"Nothing. She's back at Hongjoong Hyung's room", Wooyoung says plainly, looking to the far end on the balcony, his arms holding the railings.
"You did what?!", Yunho's face breaks as pure disappointment paints his features.
He thought he would get some time with you. Some undisturbed peace and quiet so he could leisurely admire you and observe you. That dream was shattered by Wooyoung's relevation that he teleported you back to Hongjoong’s room.
Wooyoung snickers at Yunho's blatant disappointment. The midnight air is cool against both their skin.
He straightens up.
"Now, it's time for me to go. I have something important to do. Try to have a good night", Wooyoung says fixing his robe which has fallen open as he tucks the osmanthus bark inside his pockets for safekeeping and vanishes into thin air, teleporting to who knows where.
But Yunho has an idea as to where Wooyoung disappeared off to.
And thus decides to leave him alone.
Yunho stands alone in the balcony of the garindoise residence of what used to be Wooyoung's home.
It still is his home.
But some things are better left not being reminded about.
And this is one of those things, for Wooyoung.
"Happy birthday, Concubine Jung", the words tumble out of Yunho in a soundless whisper which disappears into the sounds of the night as he looks at the moon lit sky.
"It's been a century since your death. Your son is wrecking havoc upon everything and everyone. Very unlike of how you wanted him to turn out. But the rest of us aren't any better. Somehow this time, he and the rest of us found someone worth keeping by our sides. Please grant us your blessings and protection. And, please protect her too, even from us if it comes down to it", the breeze flows from the garden below the balcony carrying Yunho's whispered words along with it.
The gentle breeze feels like a gentle caress against his cheeks, exactly like the ones of reassurance, Mother Jung or Concubine Jung, used to give them all.
She was an angel among the people of the sertyok court.
And maybe that's why she was executed.
Because in a kingdom like sertyok, being kind gets you killed.
This chapter took 7 months to write, ngl. I couldn't figure out the direction this was going in, and I wanted to make it longer, but that didn't happen. But I'm kinda happy with this chapter as it stands, and I hope you all enjoy it!
Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader
Summary: Y/n experiences the rowdyness of Ateez, dance practice, plus a visit to the stylist team for a fitting.
wc: 1.4k
AU: a/b/o
Genre: Fluff/Angst
warnings: mentions of heats and horny Wooyoung, implied negative body talk by others but no specifics (general idol beauty standard things), insecurity due to said criticisms, I think that's it?
masterlist
Hongjoong motioned for y/n to stay where she was, while he entered the room, the door closing behind him. She could only hear muffled conversations, and realized that maybe that could have been the reason the activities happened in the first place. She could feel her face continue to stay hot, and she was very thankful that she hadn’t walked in on that, though there was also another emotion she couldn’t quite place just yet.
“If you think that something like this won’t happen again, you’re wrong, firecracker,” Mingi commented, leaning against the wall behind her. “Wooyoung is nearing his heat, and the horniness of that man goes off the charts the closer we get. But Joong-hyung will make sure you’re not exposed to it too much. Wooyoung knows better than to do this here at the company, where anyone can walk in.”
Y/n nodded, still flushed and a bit unsure of what to say back to the rapper. She didn’t have to wait long before the door opened again, Hongjoong appearing in the doorway.
“You can come in now, everyone’s decent,” he said, before beckoning them inside the practice room.
Walking in to find a thoroughly chastised Wooyoung and Yeosang, though the former still had a smirk on his face, making y/n assume Yeosang had also been involved in the activities, that Hongjoong walked in on. As well as the others, who by the looks on their faces, had also been scolded by Hongjoong, for what y/n could only assume was for not stopping the two. She also realized as she looked around the room that Seonghwa and San were missing, and wondered why they weren’t here.
“Where are Seonghwa and San?” The omega asked, curious.
“They got called up for fittings for some stage outfits,” Yunho answered her, smiling, “we were also told you have to check in with the stylists today as well, so one of us can bring you upstairs after this.”
Y/n nodded, understanding that she’d have a long day in front of her, and steeled herself to feel exhausted by the end of it. Her scent reflected this, growing stronger, enough for the men near her to smell it. Mingi and Hongjoong exchanged glances, both alphas silently communicating that they would have to keep an eye on her later, and to make sure the others did so as well.
“We should get started,” Hongjoong said, trying to get things back on schedule, and to keep some of the attention off of what had happened just a few moments before.
Yunho immediately stepped up, directing everyone where to go, while guiding y/n into her starting position.
“This is where you’ll start out, behind San.” Yunho led her to where she would start off crouching, like the rest of them, minus Hongjoong.
He, and the others, then led her through the rest of the first chorus, before running that entire section a couple of times, since they were both down a few members, making some transitions a little difficult, and to ensure y/n had learned the choreography enough, to later practice on her own. As they were about to start on the chorus, the missing two members joined them.
“Did we miss much?” Seonghwa asked, pulling his hair back.
“Not too much, hyung,” Mingi answered, “We’ve only gotten y/n up to speed for everything up until the first full chorus. Though, maybe we’ll run that a few more times, since you’re both here to fill in your spots.”
And then practice jumped into full swing, the time quickly passing by as all eight men put their all into helping their newest member both learn the choreography, and making sure she wasn’t tiring herself out too quickly. Water breaks were frequent, which y/n certainly appreciated, not used to the intensity of the choreography and repeated run throughs.
“I’m tired!” Wooyoung whined as the omega collapsed to the floor, his arms and legs spread out like a starfish.
“Up you go,” San said, trying to push him back up to a sitting position, but the omega refused, letting himself be dead weight in the beta’s arms.
Y/n giggled at Wooyoung’s stubbornness, it was cute, and she wouldn’t mind the break, and it seemed a few of the others were just as happy that the man’s antics were keeping them from practicing further. Though, Hongjoong might not be one of them.
“Wooyoung, come on.” The captain said, his expression unamused.
“No~ I don’t want to practice anymore, please?” The sagittarius asked, well, more liked whined and pleaded.
Seonghwa intervened. “We should take a break, Joong. The stylist noonas wanted to see y/n-ah today, and if we wait too long, you know how grumpy they’ll be.” He reasoned with their captain and pack alpha, knowing how to appeal to his senses. Plus everyone would be happier with an extended break, and it would lessen any simmering tension.
Hongjoong nodded, and the rest of the members dropped to the ground like their strings had been cut, relieved to have a break. However, y/n was the unlucky one who was pulled up to her feet by Seonghwa, and along with Hongjoong, the trio left the others in the practice room.
Y/n was ready to be out of the building and back in the dorm, after being measured and given outfit after outfit to try on. Not to mention the murmuring from the stylists, not that any of the other members had seemed to hear them. She didn’t understand some of what they said, but by the tone of their voices, it wasn’t always positive. She shrunk in on herself as their muttering continued, but tried to keep her appearance as unaffected. She’d have to learn Korean quickly, or at least learn enough of the words they were using to understand the criticisms of her body. What specifically they were unhappy about was unknown to her. She could bring up the words she didn’t know to the others, but that would likely make it into a much bigger problem than it ever needed to be. For now she’d grin and bear it, doing her best to survive in the world of K-Pop idols.
Hongjoong and Seonghwa were chatting away with the stylists as the group of them pulled away from measuring her and making adjustments to outfits to chat with the elder two about their thoughts on outfits, since the members liked having input. She figured she probably wasn’t included due to her lack of understanding, but wished they would include her, or at least ask her if she had anything she wouldn’t like clothing wise.
“Y/n-ah,” Hongjoong called out, making her look over at the alpha.
“Yes, Hongjoong-oppa?” She replied.
“Come over here, please? You should be included in this,” He said, beckoning her to come over.
She did so, stepping off of the stool they had put her on, and walking over. “What is it?”
“Are you comfortable with heels?” Seonghwa asked.
“I mean, as long as they’re not stilettos and aren’t super high, sure. I can learn to be comfortable in them. I honestly don’t wear them often, not to dance at least.” The omega explained, waiting to see their replies.
She watched Seonghwa translate for the stylists who didn’t understand and then they all went back to talking, while she understood only a few words here or there, words flowing too fast for her to catch up. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before they were finished, and the two eldest turned back to her as the others left the room, the trio bowing as the team left.
“Are we done?” She asked, more than a bit exhausted.
“For now, yes, they’ll come back with options for you in a few days. They have to match your measurements with outfits first.” Seonghwa again explained, taking over as Hongjoong seemed to get distracted on his phone as they left the room.
Seonghwa noticed y/n’s exhaustion, reaching out to pull her closer as they walked down the hallway. “You can take a break while we block out some of the older choreography for you to be added into.” He spoke, knowing she wasn’t yet ready for the fast paced days, and maybe a bit worried that she was more tired than she let on, but kept quiet. Or if the younger omega’s heat was approaching. If so, they definitely needed to talk about it and how she wanted to go about it, before it was too late.
Self Absorbed
Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Fem!Reader
Tags: 3.4k, Neighbors!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Minor Angst Due To Stupidity, part of the Mr. Right Next Door series
Summary: The guy across the hall is sort of elusive. You only know two things about him: One, he seems to share the same schedule as you, always coming and going at the same time and two, he’s kind of an arrogant ass. “Listen, you’re very pretty but I’m just not interested.” “Neither am I?”
Looking back, you will probably always remember the day you met your neighbor who lived just across the hall from you.
Stepping out of your front door that morning, you’d accidentally bumped right into the newcomer and immediately turned to apologize, but he simply looked at you then turned and walked back into his apartment without so much as a single syllable. You’d given him the benefit of the doubt of course, perhaps he was shy or embarrassed but you’d soon come to learn that Kang Yeosang was just not a friendly person in general.
Today we took our young son to the hospital because he suffers from two holes in his heart, which affects his breathing and causes him pain. I hope that everyone will help us save our young son’s life and donate any amount possible to provide treatment and medicine
shared by 90-ghost but they've had to make a new GFM fundraiser!
Only €70 raised of €50K goal!
You can enter my freshwater pearl necklace raffle if you donate to this fundraiser!
(fyi @/90-ghost is a palestinian blogger who tries to find and support legitimate Gazan fundraisers)
______________________________________________
shareeffamily:
Help us before it's too late. I have twin children. After ten years of waiting, I wanted to move them to Gaza, but the war deprived us. We lost everything and are stuck in Egypt. The situation is very difficult, as we do not have money. My son Ahmed is sick and needs treatment and assistance. Whoever can donate even a small amount, do not hesitate to save my family's life. This is a new report that Ahmed needs eye surgery after the report issued by Dr. Ahmed Helmy🙏
summary: in which yunho is obsessed with two things, his camera and you.
warning: dom/jealous/possessive yunho, sub reader, reader and yunho like to film themselves, unprotected sex, oral, mouth fucking, fingering, spanking, hair pulling, choking, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mirror sex, creampie
pairing: idol yunho x manager afab reader
genre: smut
word count: 6.1k
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
It’s comeback week. Which also means it’s chaos.
ATEEZ is bouncing between music shows, rehearsal blocks, and red carpet appearances like it’s a sport. Outfits are prepped, mics tested, meals barely touched. Your phone buzzes every two minutes. Someone’s always missing. Someone’s always late.
You’ve got a clipboard in one hand and a staff radio in the other, barking orders through the earpiece as you dart from hallway to hallway. You were hired for this, well, not this specifically, but close enough. Professional, organized, unshakable. Hongjoong trusted you to handle things. You being one of his closest friends. You always do.
But no one knows what’s really testing your self control. No one knows about the reason your heart skips a beat when Yunho walks into hair and makeup.
No one knows what you’ve done in dressing rooms that now feel too small. And absolutely no one knows about the camera. That old silver digital camera he insists on bringing everywhere, claiming it’s just a way to document life. That little blinking red light. The soft shutter click.
You know the truth. Because you’re in those photos. And those videos. God, the videos. You didn’t even have much time to think on it.
Backstage at SBS Gayo Daejeon, the energy is frenzied. Glitter, sweat, nerves, adrenaline. Yunho’s finishing his solo shots in the mirror. His black performance shirt is barely buttoned, hanging open at the chest, the light catching on rhinestones and beading. There’s glitter dusting his collarbones, and his mic cord loops down over his back.
You step in to grab a charger off the counter, for Jongho but you catch the way his eyes flick up in the mirror, right to you. No words. Just heat. Your voice stays even. “Five minutes until final group shot. You need anything?”
“Yeah,” he says, low and lazy. “You.”
Your stomach flips, violent and fast. He knows what he’s doing. You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping your tone casual. “Behave.”
He only smirks as he lifts the camera. You swear the air gets warmer just from that click. “Did you just…”
He lowers it. “Wanted to remember how you looked telling me to behave.”
You roll your eyes, turning to leave, but he calls after you. “Come back in five?”
“Why?”
Another click. Another flash.
Then a smirk. “So I can misbehave properly.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
You last six minutes before you’re back in that room. The others are finishing group shots. Hongjoong is distracted. Staff is busy.
The dressing room is dimly lit now. The camera is perched on the table, blinking. “Thought I told you five,” Yunho murmurs, leaning back on the sofa, still in full stage outfit, still looking like temptation dipped in sweat and rhinestones. “You’re late.”
You step in and lock the door behind you. “Then punish me.” You tease and the way his eyes darken? Yeah. You’re not leaving this room untouched.
Yunho doesn’t move. He stays exactly where he is, lounging back on the ratty backstage sofa, legs spread, glitter still clinging to his skin, chest rising and falling like he knows what’s about to happen. And he does.
Because this has happened before. Because you’ve let it happen before. Because you’re already walking toward him.
“Camera’s on,” he murmurs as you approach. That silver relic is perched on the table across from him now, angled just so.
“Press record,” you whisper, sliding into his lap without hesitation. “Then shut up and let me use you.”
His groan is immediate, quiet but deep, coming from somewhere low in his chest. The camera beeps once as your knees settle on either side of him, skirt riding high, and his hands find your waist like magnets, like they always do.
One of his gloves is still on, mesh and rough against your skin. The contrast of it has your breath catching before he even touches anything else. “You’ve been walking around all day with this sweet little attitude,” he mumbles, trailing his mouth along your jaw, “pretending you’re just here to manage us.”
Your hips rock forward once, slow, deliberate. His head tilts back. “That’s my job, isn’t it?” you whisper. “Keep you in line?”
He laughs, a deep, ruined sound. “You don’t wanna keep me in line.” His hands slide under your thighs, dragging you closer. His hips push up, grinding into you. There’s no teasing, no pause. Just hot friction and quiet moans, the kind that would get you fired if anyone heard.
You start unbuttoning his shirt, not all the way, just enough to get your hands on his chest. Beads of sweat shimmer at his collarbone, catching the light. “You’re gonna ruin the makeup,” you whisper.
He leans in, licking a stripe up the side of your throat. “So ruin it.” It’s messy. Hot. Urgent. You grind down harder, feeling how much he needs you through the fabric of his pants. The mesh of his glove grips your ass as he rocks you faster.
Your hands tangle in his hair. “Yunho…”
“You gonna come like this?” he murmurs. “Right in my lap?“
You nod, just barely, because it’s already building.
“Fuck,” he growls, and suddenly he’s shifting you off him, standing in one smooth motion. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“Now.”
The vanity table is cold against your thighs. Your palms brace against the edge. In the mirror, you watch as Yunho comes up behind you, undoing just enough to free himself. He doesn’t undress you, he flips your skirt, pulls your underwear to the side, and slides into you with one deep, slow thrust.
You moan, loud. Too loud making him press a hand over your mouth. “You want everyone out there to know who’s fucking you?”
Your eyes flutter. The mirror shows it all, his hips rolling into yours, the shirt clinging to his skin, that camera catching the bounce of your body every time he thrusts.
He leans in, lips by your ear. “Watch yourself.” And you do. God, you do. Because it’s filthy. His thrusts are brutal but controlled, his rhythm punishing but intimate. One hand stays braced on your hip, the other sneaking under your shirt, palming your chest, pinching your nipple while he fucks you hard enough that your thighs tremble.
“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he groans. “Taking me like you’re made for it.”
Your nails dig into the wood of the vanity. “Yunho…. please…”
“Say it.” He doesn’t even have to clarify what he wants you to say because you already know. Have moaned and whined it to him and that camera many times.
“Yours,” you pant, your orgasm breaking you. “Yours, Yunho…. fuck… I’m yours.”
He moans your name, broken, desperate, and comes deep inside you with a curse, hips stuttering before finally slowing.
You don’t move. Not yet. Both of you breathe hard, pressed together, clothes half on, covered in sweat and glitter. Just melded to each other for a couple of minutes.
Yunho finally pulls out, gently tugging your skirt back down and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We have two minutes,” he mumbles.
You blink. “What?”
He spins you around and lifts you onto the vanity, still warm from your skin. He grabs the camera. “Two minutes until we go back to being just manager and idol,” he says. “Might as well make them count.”
He hits play. The screen flickers to life. Your moans. His voice. The mirror. The way your body rocked against his, perfectly framed and unmistakably his.
He watches you watch it, licking his lips. “You know what this one’s called?” he whispers.
You shake your head.
“Property of Jeong Yunho.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The days blur together during comeback week. By the time you get to the MCountdown dressing rooms, you’re running on two hours of sleep and a large iced Americano. You’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone think about him.
Or at least, you try not to. But the moment you walk past ATEEZ’s dressing room, you’re reminded exactly why you’re failing. Because Yunho is sitting on the makeup counter, long legs spread, black pants hugging his thighs, and that same silver camera resting casually on his lap like it doesn’t contain footage that could end both your careers.
He doesn’t look at you as you pass, eyes glued to whatever he’s watching on that camera.
“Don’t look so flushed,” Wooyoung teases later, catching up to you near the snack table. “Did you run here?”
“Shut up,” you mutter, stealing a piece of fruit off his tray. He tilts his head, squinting at you. “You been weird lately.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Mm. So’s Yunho. But he’s been all… smiley.”
Your heart skips and you’re saved only by Mingi calling Wooyoung over for some chaotic last minute mic check. You exhale, press your back against the hallway wall, and try to cool your face with your palm.
Focus, you tell yourself. You’re his manager. No one suspects anything. Just do your job.
But doing your job gets real damn hard when Yunho shows up at your side twenty minutes later and whispers, so softly no one else can hear. “Still sore from the other night?”
You whip your head toward him, but he’s already walking past, camera swinging in one hand like a weapon.
You keep busy. Directing. Cueing. Not looking at him. But that doesn’t mean he’s not looking at you. He finds you again in the wings, right as he finishes a verse, eyes locking with yours for the briefest second before turning his head away and smirking.
Your stomach does a backflip. Because you know that smirk. You’ve felt it against your throat. Between your thighs. Pressed against your lips as he whispered, “Don’t look away. I want to watch you come.”
You excuse yourself and hide in the stairwell for two full minutes just to breathe.
The moment ATEEZ comes off stage, chaos erupts, stylists and makeup artists rushing in, bottles of water, towels, fans.
You avoid him. Until the hallway clears. Until the lights dim. Until a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you straight into the electrical closet.The door shuts. You’re pressed against it.
Click.
That camera. That goddamn camera. You will never admit how much you love it.
“You ignored me all day,” Yunho says, voice low, damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead.
“I had to,” you whisper. “You keep pushing your luck.”
He leans in, lips brushing your jaw. His body presses close, heat radiating off his post performance skin. “So push back,” he murmurs.
Your eyes flick to the camera. “You’re filming this?” He grins, lifting it with one hand. “I’m documenting. There’s a difference.”
He kneels as you watch him, camera catching the moment he spreads your legs. The camera is carefully placed on the opposite shelf, angled just right. Just enough to frame you both.
“Put your foot up.”
You hesitate, there’s not much space to really move.
“Now.”
You do, placing one booted foot on a low shelf, exposing everything under your skirt. Your underwear is soaked already. You feel it when he pulls the thin fabric aside.
Yunho groans. Loudly. Like he missed this. “I haven’t even really touched you yet,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh as you pant, hand braced against the wall. “Then touch me.”
And God, does he. The first swipe of his tongue is soft. Just enough pressure to taste you. The second? Firm, flat, right against your clit.
You nearly buckle. He grabs your thighs, holding you open, his breath hot against you as he devours you like it’s his last meal, tongue circling your clit, teasing your entrance, moaning like it turns him on just to make you fall apart.
Your hands scramble for purchase on the shelves, knocking over a roll of tape as you gasp loudly, biting back an even louder moan.
“Shhh,” he whispers against your pussy. “We’re not alone out there.”
You look down and his eyes are on you. The camera is blinking. And you’re grinding on his face.”You gonna come like this?” he asks between licks. “Or do I need to help you?”
“I…. fuck… Yunho, I can’t…..”
“Not good enough.”
Suddenly he stands. One hand finds your throat, just enough to hold your head against the wall, while the other slips two fingers inside you without warning.
You choke on a moan.
“Better,” he whispers, voice like silk over gravel. “So fucking wet. Look at the mess you made on my mouth.”
His fingers curl making you cry out louder. Too loud. He slaps his hand over your mouth. “Not a word,” he growls into your ear. “You wanna get caught? You want Hongjoong to open this door and see his sweet little best friend with my fingers inside her?”
Your eyes roll back as the pressure builds fast, brutal. His fingers are precise, skilled. Your hips stutter.
“Come on,” he whispers. “Cream on my fingers, baby.”
Your legs shake. Your body clenches as you break. Hard. Silently. Violently. Just like he wanted.
He doesn’t let you come down for long. He spins you, pushing you against the wall, fingers yanking your panties down to your knees as he unzips just enough to pull himself free.
And when he sinks into you? You swear the entire building could collapse and you wouldn’t notice.
“Shit,” he groans into your neck. “So tight.”
You bite his shoulder because otherwise you’ll scream. You move your lips to his throat, your hands gripping the back of his jacket, your body stuffed full of him as he fucks you hard and deep, panting like he’s been dying to do this all day.
“You make me insane,” he groans. “You walk around like you’re not mine. Like I don’t have hours of footage proving otherwise.”
He grinds into you, hitting your spot over and over again. “You’re mine,” he whispers. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you gasp. “Yunho… I’m yours.”
“Say it louder.”
You moan, helpless and wild. “I’m yours!”
He loses it. Hips stuttering. Arms tight around you. He fucks you through both your highs, spilling into you and collapsing against your back with a groan.
Silence carries. Just heavy breathing. Sticky skin. Shaking legs. The camera?
Still blinking.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Yunho knew he was forgetting something. He just didn’t realize what it was until they were already backstage, minutes before ATEEZ’s opening performance for the MAMA Awards.
“Hyung, you good?” San asks, adjusting the strap on his mic pack.
Yunho blinks at him, dazed. “Yeah.”
But he’s not. Because his fingers had pat down every inch of his suit before stepping on stage, dug through his bag, and for the first time in over a year, his camera isn’t there.
Not strapped to his chest.
Not tucked into his jacket lining. Not shoved in the hidden zipper of his pants like usual. Not anywhere.
He forgot it. And now he feels… unarmed. The camera was his way of coping. Of remembering. Of catching stolen glances between rehearsals, soft sighs in cramped dressing rooms, lipstick smudges on skin not meant to be seen.
Of capturing you. On your knees. On top of him. Against the wall. His. Always his. And now he doesn’t have it.
You’re standing near the tech pit, clipboard in hand, headset on, hair swept to the side in some elegant updo that makes you look like you belong on the damn red carpet. Not running around behind it.
And your outfit? All black. Tight. Classy. Legs for days. The exact kind of thing Yunho would have zoomed in on. But now he has to store it in his mind. And that pisses him off.
He adjusts his in ear, jaw tight. Hongjoong’s voice cuts into the group channel. “Places.”
Yunho exhales. Refocuses. He can think about you later. They hit the stage. Lights. Smoke. Cheers. It’s a good performance.
Actually, it’s great.
He loses himself in the music, the sweat, the roar of fans. They hit every beat. Every line. He locks into the moment like he always does.
Until he sees it.
You.
Laughing at something.
Standing offstage, clipboard now tucked under your arm. And beside you? Some pretty boy in a too expensive suit, earpiece half in, smile way too familiar.
Yunho misses a beat and San bumps into his shoulder during a transition. Jongho narrows his eyes. The camera pans away. No one notices. Not really.
But Yunho notices.
Because that guy? That guy’s from one of the groups performing next. Tall. Model like. Ridiculous cheekbones. Hand brushing your arm as he says something that makes you laugh again.
And you’re smiling at him. Not politely. Not coldly.
Like you mean it.
Yunho turns his head just enough to catch your eye. And you freeze. It’s one second. Two. But it’s enough. Because your smile fades. Your posture straightens. And Pretty Boy?
He doesn’t get another glance as Yunho finishes the performance with something feral in his gut.
It’s not just adrenaline anymore.
It’s possession.
And it’s got nowhere to go.
Because his camera isn’t here.
His secret outlet. His confessor. His lover’s archive. He can’t document the way he’s feeling.
And Yunho feels like he’s losing his damn mind.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Yunho doesn’t knock right away. He stares at your door for a long second, camera in one hand, hoodie still zipped halfway from the ride home. His hair’s a little messy, still damp at the ends from the post stage shower. He’s been pacing his own apartment for an hour now, half listening to Yeosang mumble about how good their MAMA stage looked, fingers twitching with the urge to call you like a lunatic.
But no.
He saw what he needed to see.
He saw him.
And he saw you.
And now? He needs to fix the way that’s sitting in his gut.
So he knocks. Once. Twice. And waits.
You’re not expecting anyone. Definitely not after midnight. You’re in your towel, fresh out of the shower, skin warm and still dewy. Hair damp. No makeup. No bra.
You open the door cautiously and there he is.
Yunho. Taller than the frame. Sweaty, flushed skin now replaced with low, steady heat in his stare. Clutching that silver camera like it’s a weapon.
“Yunho,” you blink. “Hey… I didn’t think you were gonna stop by.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. Eyes raking down. Towel. Collarbone. Water droplets on your chest. Bare legs. He swallows, jaw clenched.
“You okay?” you ask, voice soft.
His eyes flick up as he steps forward. Not aggressive. Just… sure. You step back instinctively as he enters.
“You looked good tonight,” he says suddenly.
You glance over your shoulder, drying your hands on the towel edge. “Thanks. I tried not to sweat through my entire jumpsuit.”
“I didn’t mean professionally.”
That makes you pause. You turn to face him. His eyes don’t move from yours.
“I meant you looked good. Period.”
There’s something off about his tone. Like it’s smooth on the surface, but there’s something tight underneath.
You shift on your feet. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“What was his name?”
Your heart stutters. “Who?”
“That idol.”
You blink as he tilts his head, just a fraction. Still holding the camera. Still not lifting his voice. “The one who touched your arm like he knew you. The one who made you laugh.”
You stare at him, stunned. “Yunho, it was nothing.”
He takes one step closer. “It’s not nothing when it’s mine he was flirting with like that.”
You freeze. Your lips part as he finally moves, slowly crossing the space between you, backing you up until the backs of your knees hit the couch and your towel starts to slip from how heavy your breathing has become.
You don’t even realize what’s happening until the towel’s gone. One second, Yunho is staring you down like he’s trying to burn the image into his memory. The next?
The towel is on the floor. Your back is against the couch. Your thighs are spread.
And Yunho, still fully dressed in his post show hoodie and sweatpants, is kneeling between your legs, eyes dark, camera in hand.
“You think I didn’t notice how you let him touch you?” he mutters, brushing his nose along your inner thigh. “You think because I was on stage, I didn’t see the way you smiled at him?”
You open your mouth, breath hitching. “Are you jealous…”
He clicks the camera on. That signature blink red light. Then places it in your hands. “You’re gonna film this. You’re gonna hold it steady and record me while I remind you who you belong to.”
You should say no. You should at least pretend to argue. But your hands curl around the cool metal, and your thighs tremble just a little where he’s spreading them wider and he grins.
The first lick is slow. Intentional. He drags his tongue through your folds like he’s tasting you for the first time, even though he’s done this more times than you can count.
His eyes flick up. “Keep filming.”
You do. The camera is angled down, catching the sight of his messy hair between your thighs, your bare chest rising and falling, your lips parted and shaking as you try to keep still.
“God, I missed this,” he mutters against you. “Missed the way you taste. Missed the way you moan when I suck on your clit just like….” He wraps his lips around it and pulls. Gently. Then harder.
Your hips jerk and a moan escapes as you glance down at the camera. You’re shaking. It’s so raw. The angle. The light. You can see the way his jaw flexes with every movement of his tongue.
Yunho grins, flicking his tongue rapidly now, then dragging two fingers along your entrance. “Look how wet you are,” he pants. “You’re dripping for me.” He slides both fingers in without warning, curling them perfectly, and watches as your head falls back.
“No one else makes you feel like this,” he growls. “No one else gets this.” You gasp, sensitive, overwhelmed, wrecked. “You think that guy backstage could’ve done this to you?” he taunts. “Think he could’ve made you shake like this? Fall apart like this?”
You try to answer, but it’s useless. You’re a mess. And you’re still holding the camera. “Yunho… fuck…. I’m gonna…”
“Do it,” he says. “Come for me. Film yourself falling apart on my tongue. And then watch it later and remember you’re mine.”
That’s what breaks you. You cry out, loud, broken, trembling through your orgasm, the camera nearly slipping from your hands as your vision whites out.
And Yunho doesn’t stop. He keeps licking you through it, moaning into your pussy, tasting every twitch, every pulse, until your thighs are clenched around his head and you’re pulling at his hair like your life depends on it.
Only then does he pull back, lips swollen, chin wet. “You get it now?” he whispers, sitting up, taking the camera gently from your limp hands. He rewinds it. Presses play. And then leans in close to your ear as your moans echo from the tiny speaker.
“Next time you let another man that isn’t one of the members touch you…. I’m gonna make you film me while I fuck you.”
The moment the words leave your mouth, you feel the shift. “Then why don’t you do it?” It’s a whisper. A dare. A challenge. And Yunho? He stills. Camera in one hand. Other, fisted at his side. His jaw flexes once. Twice.
And then he laughs, soft and dangerous. “Oh,” he mutters, stepping closer. “You think I won’t?” You don’t flinch. Not this time. You square your shoulders, eyes locked on his.
“I think you talk a big game, Jeong Yunho.”
He blinks once. Then? You push him. Both hands to his chest. Not hard. Just enough. And it’s enough. “Fucking hell,” he mutters.
Yunho grabs you by the backs of your thighs and lifts you like you weigh nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around him. He doesn’t break eye contact. Doesn’t stumble. Doesn’t even pretend to be polite.
He carries you down the hall like a man with a mission. Like he’s going to remind you what you are.
The second your back hit the mattress, you had options. You could’ve let him crawl over you. Let him take what he came here for. Let him fuck the jealousy out of his system and into your body.
But you didn’t. You knelt. Eyes low. Lips parted. Hands smoothing over his thighs, reaching for the waistband of his sweats.
Yunho freezes. One hand still gripping the camera. The other clenched at his side as you look up at him, slow, deliberate, and hook your fingers in the waistband.
His jaw ticks. He lifts the camera. The red light blinks on as his sweats drop to his thighs. No boxers. Just skin, heat, thickness, veins, and the already leaking tip of his dick.
Yunho’s breath stutters as you wrap your hand around the base, tongue flicking over the head with a teasing swirl before you drag it flat along the underside, slow and steady, eyes locked on his.
The camera shakes for a second. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Look at you.”
The red light catches on your lips as you sink forward, taking him into your mouth inch by inch, saliva already slicking your tongue.
His moan is low. Guttural. “Fuck, baby, that’s it.” He braces one hand against the top of your head, the other holding the camera at a perfect angle. You know this angle. You’ve seen it. The way he shoots from slightly above, focused on the way your lips stretch around him, the tear bright sheen in your eyes, the hollow of your cheeks when you suck.
“You look so pretty like this,” he groans. “So fucking pretty letting me use your mouth.”
You moan around him. Loud. The vibration makes him jerk his hips forward, dick hitting the back of your throat.
You choke once, then recover fast, drool slipping down your chin as you bob your head faster, your hand twisting in rhythm.
He groans again, rougher now. “You think he could’ve had this?” he hisses. “Think that little backstage puppy could’ve handled you like this?”
Your hands brace against his thighs. Your eyes say everything. ++++++No one else could make me do this.”
Only you.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Fuck…. look up at me.”
You do. Tears in your lashes. Mouth stretched wide.
Click.
He snaps a photo mid blowjob.
“You’re mine,” he growls. “Say it.”
You pull off with a gasp, spit connecting your lips to his dick as you pant, throat raw.
“I’m yours.”
“Say it again.”
You stroke him once, kiss the tip, tongue out. “I’m yours, Yunho. All fucking yours.”
He growls, louder now. Grabs the back of your head. “Then take it,” he hisses. “Take it all.”
You let him thrust into your mouth, shallow but fast, camera rolling again, spit a mess down your chest, your throat swallowing around him until his breath starts to stutter.
Your throat’s raw. Your jaw aches. And Yunho is still hard. Still flushed. Still feral. He pulls out of your mouth with a slick, wet sound, chest rising and falling like he’s just run off stage again.
You blink up at him, breathless. But instead of finishing… Instead of groaning your name and spilling down your throat like you know he wants to….
He smirks. “Not yet.” He reaches down, wraps a hand under your arm, and pulls you up from the floor like it’s nothing. Your knees buckle slightly, but he catches you, other hand still gripping the camera, red light blinking like it’s starving for more.
“You think you get to make me come before I’ve fucked you?” he murmurs. His voice is low. Dangerous. Velvet over a knife’s edge.
He turns you around. Pushes you onto the bed. You brace yourself, knees on the edge, chest dropping down to the sheets as Yunho moves like a man possessed, walking to the camera, propping it up on a stack of pillows at the foot of the bed, checking the frame, angling it just right.
He looks back at you, bent over, dripping, your ass arching back toward him and his eyes go dark. “Perfect.”
He steps behind you. One hand on your lower back.
The other dragging his dick along your entrance, slow and teasing. But he doesn’t push in. Not yet.
First, he spanks you. Hard. Once. You gasp, jolting forward. The sting spreads deliciously across your skin. Then again. “Keep that ass up,” he growls. “Show the camera how pretty you are when you take it.”
You whimper, cheeks hot, thighs trembling as he slides a single finger down your slit and groans. “Still so wet. Just from sucking my dick?” He slaps your ass again, hand lingering this time, gripping, squeezing.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I could edge you like this all night.”
You whine, hips rocking back toward him. “Yunho… please”
“Please what?” Another slap.
“Use your words.”
“I need you to fuck me,” you cry out. “Please, Yunho… please…. just do it.”
He leans down over you, chest to your back, lips to your ear.
“You sure?”
You nod frantically as his fingers find your hair, wrap tight at the base of your skull. Then, in one brutal, perfect thrust, he’s inside you.
You scream, choking on a broken moan as he grunts. Both of you gasping as he bottoms out, your walls clenching tight around him.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants, pulling out slow, then thrusting back in harder. “That’s it. That’s my perfect fucking girl.”
His grip tightens in your hair as he starts thrusting, deeper, rougher, steady. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the room, layered with your moans, his groans, the soft whir of the camera recording every second.
He watches it. Watches you. Bent over. Moaning. Taking every inch. “You feel this?” he growls. “This is what that idiot backstage wishes he could’ve had.”
You cry out, back arching harder. “Yunho…”
“Say my name.”
“Yunho!”
He growls, pounding into you harder, faster, his thrusts starting to lose rhythm as your name tumbles from his lips like a prayer. “You gonna come for me?” he pants.
You nod, frantic.
“Then do it. Come all over me. Let the camera see who fucks you best.”
You don’t remember if you said his name first, or screamed it. All you know is that when the orgasm hits, it shatters you.
Your entire body clenches, thighs trembling, forehead dropping to the mattress as Yunho grits out a growl behind you, hands locked on your hips, thrusts pounding into you until your vision goes white.
You collapse forward with a breathless sob, your walls fluttering around him, legs barely holding you up.
But he doesn’t finish. He pulls out, slow, deliberate, his dick soaked, his breathing ragged. You hear him groan behind you. “Holy fuck.”
He strokes himself once, twice, standing there like he’s debating whether to ruin you again or finally give in.
But he never gets the chance to decide. Because you turn around, fire in your veins, and crawl into his lap. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
His eyes widen. Just for a second. Then narrow. “Oh?”
You straddle him. Grind your soaked folds along his dick, teasing him with how wrecked and sensitive you still are, how you’re still pulsing from the orgasm he just gave you.
“I’m not done,” you whisper. “You don’t get to do all that and not come for me.” And before he can respond? You sink down onto him.
His head slams back against the pillows. A broken, shaky moan escapes his throat. “Fuck, baby…. shit”
You don’t ease in. You ride. Hard. Deep. Unrelenting. Your hands brace on his chest as you bounce on him, skin clapping, his dick dragging against every sensitive part inside you.
“Look at you,” you pant. “All that talk…. now you’re just lying there, letting me use you.” He whines. Actually whines as you reach down, grab his face, fingers tight around his jaw, and yank his gaze toward the camera still rolling at the edge of the bed.
“Look at it.”
He swallows. His eyes flutter open, glassier than you’ve ever seen them. “Let it see what you look like when I ride you. Let it see how wrecked you are. Just like I am.”
He moans your name, high and ruined. His hands grip your ass tight, fingertips bruising, trying to slow you down. But you’re in charge now. You fuck him like he fucked you, unapologetic, soaking, shameless.
And when he grabs your hips and starts thrusting up into you, matching your rhythm, desperate and breathless? You know he’s close. “Yunho,” you whisper, leaning down, mouth to his ear. “Come for me.”
He growls. Loud. Primal. “You first.” He never was one for losing. And so you do. You clench around him, body twitching, vision blurring for the second time tonight, and Yunho follows with a guttural moan, his whole body tensing beneath you as he fills you, one final thrust burying him as deep as he can go.
Silence. Just your shaky breath. His heaving chest. The soft, steady blink of the camera.
Then he laughs. Wrecked. Glorious. Drenched in sweat and sin and before you can crawl off him, your back hits the mattress.
“Wha…”
But you don’t even get the words out before he’s inside you again, still hard, still leaking, still fucking you through your orgasm like a man possessed. And in his other hand? The camera.
He doesn’t aim it from afar this time. He brings it down. Close. Low. Focused right between your bodies. You can hear his breath on the mic. Heavy. Wild.
“Fuck,” he growls, watching the screen. “Look at you. Look at what we did.”
The camera captures the obscene, glistening mix of your slick and his cum spreading across your folds, dripping down his dick, shining under the soft bedroom light. It’s messy. It’s intimate. It’s real.
And he keeps going. Keeps pounding into you. The overstimulation burns, your pussy twitching around him, too full, too sensitive, too much. But you don’t tell him to stop. You beg for more. “Yunho… please…… I’m gonna…. again, fuck!”
“You can take it,” he pants. “You always do.”
Your legs wrap around his waist. Your hands clutch the sheets. The camera shakes once, just slightly, as his thrusts grow erratic and he growls low, watching the screen. “Look at it,” he whispers. “Look what we made.”
And it’s that what makes you both break again. The vision of your bodies colliding, slick and soaking, his dick disappearing over and over inside you, your cream coating him thick and wet, the sounds so obscene they don’t even sound real….
He groans. Loud. Ragged. Almost broken, thrusting once. Twice. You clench him and come again just as he spills into you, deep and hot, filling you all over again, his face collapsing into your neck as he chokes out your name like a confession.
“Y/N….. fuck… I’m so fucking in love with you…. Oh my god.”
The camera catches it. All of it. Your gasps. His moans. The final stuttering thrusts as he milks himself inside you. The mess between your thighs, slick, shiny, mixed and dripping.
He’s still holding it, resting his forehead against yours. Both of you shaking. Sticky. Wrecked. Breathless.
And then he finally stops recording. Beep. Saved. He tosses the camera to the side and collapses next to you, pulling you into his chest. Still panting. Still twitching. Still inside you.
LI’m never deleting that,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple making you laugh weakly.
“You better not.”
His chest rises and falls against your back now. Arm slung around your waist. His hand is sticky but gentle where it rests over your stomach, fingers tracing soft shapes on your skin, lips pressing into your shoulder.
“You good?” he murmurs.
You nod, too dazed to speak again. Still warm, sore, and very much full. You feel him smile. And then, quietly, so quiet you almost miss it… “I’m done pretending.”
Your brows pinch. “What?”
He shifts closer and buries his nose into your hair. “I’m done pretending you’re just my manager. I’m done acting like I’m not completely fucking in love with you. I don’t care who finds out anymore. You’re mine.”
Your heart skips. Then flips. Then burns. “Seriously?”
He pulls you tighter and kisses your shoulder again.
“Yeah. I mean it. You’re not just my favorite thing to film. You’re my favorite thing. Period.”
summary: yunho and mingi will do anything for her. their best friend. the girl they love. even if that means turning their entire college campus into her favorite slasher flick.
warning: possessive yunho, possessive mingi, blood, gore, descriptions of death, torture and violence, yunho and mingi are both killers, more to be added
genre: horror, dark romance, smut
pairing: ghostface yunho x afab reader x ghostface mingi
word count: 6.3k
part two
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
October 4th in Seoul gave way to weather that wasn’t too cold but certainly wasn’t warm either as Dr. Bae tugged the collar of his tan trench coat higher, muttering under his breath as he stepped off the curb, leather satchel bumping against his hip.
The fluorescent lights of the medical building behind him buzzed faintly, casting a weak halo over the freshly waxed hospital floor just visible through the glass. He hated night shifts. Hated this city. Hated that he’d let his ex talk him into moving back here for some quiet academic life bullshit.
His loafers clicked against damp pavement as he walked. The air was wet with the kind of thin mist that clung to glasses and made your clothes feel heavier. Campus looked half dead this time of night, students tucked into dorms, professors long gone, and only the occasional flicker of movement from the parking garage up ahead.
Still, something made him glance over his shoulder. Nothing. Just shadows and trees with too many limbs as Bae blew out a shaky breath and shook his head. “Paranoid,” he muttered to himself. “Need to cut back on caffeine.”
He passed the familiar fountain near the edge of the med quad, the one student groups decorated every holiday. It was empty now, drained last week in prep for mid month Halloween antics. Dry and quiet. Like a throat waiting to scream.
He didn’t see the figure slip out from behind the old alumni statue. Or the second one, hood up, pacing quietly along the garden path twenty feet behind him like a caged animal finally escaped and ready to pounce.
The hairs on the back of Dr. Bae’s neck stood up, unprovoked. That prickling sensation of being watched. He paused near the edge of the path where the lamplight ended, frowning as he looked back again.
Still nothing.
But he swore, no, felt, someone was there.
He shook his head and kept walking, shoes squeaking slightly now as the mist thickened. A sharp wind tugged at his coat, flapping it like a warning flag. The faint squeal of a door somewhere in the distance made him jump.
“You’re imagining things,” he muttered to himself again. “This campus is crawling with kids in masks by October. Probably some drunk frat moron trying to be funny.”
He didn’t hear the figure behind him step off the garden path. Didn’t see the black boots moving in sync with his own, or the glint of something silver tucked just inside a gloved hand.
Yunho. Patient. Focused. Quiet. Watching Bae walk straight into the trap.
Mingi was already ahead. Off the path. Behind the row of hedges, pacing, barely holding back the urge to strike. His fingers were twitching, flexing around the grip of his hunting knife. The same one he’d used on that girl who called Y/N a liar last semester. The first time he snapped. First time Yunho had to clean up a mess.
It’s not like Mingi killed her just to kill her. She was part of it. All of it. She was her friend. Y/N. The reason they were here now. The reason they now had blood on their hands.
Mingi was breathing too hard and Yunho could hear it even from where he was. He pulled his mask up, “Slow down,”Yunho mouthed into the dark.
Mingi ignored him. He always did when the rage was close to the surface. And it was tonight. Because this man, this doctor, he’d looked at Y/N bruised and broken and said, “Looks like a fall.”
He’d let her abuser walk free.
So Mingi had picked the knife.
But Yunho had picked the spot.
Dr. Bae reached the parking garage. Pulled out his keys. Pressed the unlock button making a soft chirp and the car lights to flash up in the second level. The stairs are twenty feet away.
He would never make it.
“Cold night, huh?”
The voice behind him is loud, sudden, taunting as Dr. Bae spins around, heart kicking into his throat.
A tall man steps out of the dark. Lean. Hood up. All black. The streetlamp barely catches the edge of the white Ghostface mask in his hand, dangling loosely at his side like it’s just some dumb Halloween joke.
Mingi.
Dr. Bae stumbles back a step. “Wh…. what the hell is this?”
“I think you know,” Mingi says, grinning. There’s nothing kind in it as he lifts the mask, slowly pulling it on.
Dr. Bae bolts toward the stairs, but another figure is already standing there. Calm. Still. Mask already on. Knife in hand. A single tilt of the head.
Dr. Bae skidded to a stop, chest heaving, eyes locked on the second masked figure blocking the stairs.
Ghostface.
This one wasn’t like the other.
This one was still. Unmoving. Slightly taller. Knife held low and loose like he’d used it a hundred times and didn’t need to show off.
That quiet made it worse.
Dr. Bae turned, ready to bolt back toward the fountain but the first Ghostface was already there.
He was humming now. Off key. Childlike. The way you might if you were carving a pumpkin or cutting the crusts off a sandwich.
“Oh, don’t leave,” Mingi cooed, voice warped through the mask. “You haven’t told us yet.”
“T…. Told you what?” Bae stammered, stumbling back into the stairwell door, hand fumbling for the handle.
“Why you lied.”
The voice from behind. Calm. Flat. Yunho.
Dr. Bae froze.
“We read your report, doctor,” Mingi went on, slowly circling him now. “Said she fell. Said there was no sign of a struggle.” He tilted his head. “Is that what you saw when you looked at her? A girl who tripped down a staircase with bruises shaped like fingers?”
Mingi laughed, a sudden, sharp bark that made the doctor flinch. “Maybe your daddy paid for med school too.”
Bae’s hand finally found the doorknob. He twisted, shoved. Locked. He backed away fast, palms out. “Listen, I don’t know what this is, okay? If this is some kind of performance art, or a protest, or some deranged….”
“Wrong answer,” Yunho said as he stepped forward, the glint of his blade caught the light for just a second before Mingi struck.
Not deep. Not yet. Just a sharp slash across the thigh. Enough to drop the doctor hard onto the pavement with a strangled yell.
Mingi crouched beside him, playful now. “C’mon, doc,” he murmured. “You’re the expert. What’s the verdict? Blunt force trauma? Defensive wounds?”
He drove the knife into Bae’s shoulder, the man’s scream echoed down the empty quad as Yunho crouched behind him, hand gripping the doctor’s mouth shut as Mingi pulled the blade out slow, savoring the way Bae’s body writhed under them.
“Want to know a secret?” Mingi whispered, crouching low to eye level. “She doesn’t even know we’re doing this. We’re doing this for her.” He tilted his head. “Sweet, right?”
Yunho didn’t speak. He just watched. Let Mingi say it all. Let the doctor die knowing exactly why.
Mingi carved a deep final stroke across the doctor’s chest, one that bled fast, final, and messy.
“Looks like a fall,” he mocked, eyes wild behind the mask.
Dr. Bae didn’t move again.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The sun hadn’t fully committed to shining, but it was trying. A pale golden haze filtered through the Seoul skyline, softening the harsh edges of glass and steel as Y/N tugged her oversized hoodie tighter around her frame and stepped onto the sidewalk. Her headphones dangled from her pocket, forgotten. She liked to walk in silence lately. Something about the early chill and the sound of her own footsteps made her feel more grounded, more here.
Campus was just waking up. Students with sleep crusted eyes stumbled out of dorms in sweats and slides, cradling iced Americanos like lifelines. A group of freshmen darted past on scooters, laughing too loud for this hour. Leaves skittered across the sidewalk, kicked up by the occasional gust of wind that still carried the hint of yesterday’s rain.
Y/N’s boots made soft taps on the pavement as she turned the corner onto 4th, the familiar scent of espresso already drifting down from Café Meridian, her favorite spot just before her psych lecture.
The bell above the café door jingled softly as she pushed it open, immediately hit with the warmth of dark roast and cinnamon. Her usual barista, Hana, offered her a sleepy smile from behind the counter, apron already stained with syrup and oat milk.
“Good morning,” Hana greeted, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “Your usual?”
Y/N nodded, flashing a small smile. “Please. Extra cinnamon if you’ve got it in you.”
“Anything for my favorite sad girl.”
Y/N rolled her eyes with a quiet laugh, leaning against the counter. The café was mostly empty, just a couple of grad students whispering over laptops and an older man reading something by the window.
Her gaze drifted lazily to the mounted TV in the corner. The sound was low, barely audible under the hum of milk steamers and indie rock playing from the speaker above the menu board. But the headline was enough to catch her eye.
LOCAL MED PROFESSOR FOUND DEAD ON CAMPUS. INVESTIGATION ONGOING.
Y/N blinked. Her brows pulled together as she stepped a little closer, coffee temporarily forgotten.
The screen showed a still photo of a man in a hospital coat. Dr. Bae. Her brain took a second to match the name to the face.
He’d looked after her. Well…. Looked might have been generous.
The image cut to footage of flashing red and blue lights near the edge of the medical quad. Yellow tape. A grim faced detective giving an empty statement.
“No suspects at this time. We are reviewing footage from surrounding buildings.”
Hana slid her drink onto the counter. “You okay?” she asked softly, following Y/N’s line of sight.
Y/N blinked again, as if shaking herself loose. She nodded quickly, forcing a tight lipped smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… that’s weird, right?”
“You knew him?”
“Kind of. He… signed off on a report last year. For me.” Her voice dipped into something quieter, more guarded. “Didn’t really do much.”
Hana’s smile faded. “You want me to add something stronger than cinnamon in there?”
Y/N let out a little laugh, offered one last smile before heading back out into the morning mist, her breath fogging in the air as she crossed the quad. Her lecture hall wasn’t far, just past the old library, the ivy covered archway already decorated with early Halloween streamers.
The lid of Y/N’s coffee creaked as she adjusted her grip, thumb brushing over the condensation. She was halfway across the street back to campus, mind still lingering on the news broadcast.
Dr. Bae. Dead.
It didn’t make sense. People like him didn’t just… die. Not in parking garages. Not on this campus. Not this close to her.
The breeze picked up again, curling under her hoodie as she passed the edge of the quad. Her psych building loomed ahead, stone steps framed by skeletal trees and a peeling campus map no one ever read. She took the path beside the garden hedge, a shortcut she always used when she was running late.
She didn’t hear the footsteps. Didn’t feel the presence until a shadow moved beside hers. A low voice, smooth and casual, broke the silence right at her ear.
“Boo.”
Y/N let out a startled yelp, sloshing half her coffee down the side of her cup as she spun and shoved the figure behind her. “Mingi!” she hissed, glaring. “You’re so quiet when you sneak up on people, god, what the hell!”
He just smiled. That slow, lazy grin he always wore when he knew he was pissing her off on purpose. His head tilted slightly, black hair falling into his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept, not that he ever really did, but there was something else today. Something darker.
He wore all black, as usual, slouchy tee with a torn sleeve revealing faint ink along his bicep, low slung chains around his neck, and a silver ring flashing as he reached out to steady her cup before it dropped.
“Reflexes still sharp,” he said, voice low, almost amused. “Proud of you.”
She rolled her eyes, heart still kicking against her ribs. “You’re such a creep sometimes.”
“I’m your creep,” Mingi said without missing a beat, lips quirking. “Besides, I was just walking. You were the one completely zoned out.”
“I was thinking,” she muttered, brushing her hair out of her face. “About the news.”
That caught his attention, making Mingi go still slightly, head angling just enough that the shadow fell differently across his face. “What news?”
“That doctor. From the medical quad.” Her voice dropped to a hush. “Bae. They found him dead.”
“Yeah?” Mingi’s voice didn’t change. If anything, it softened, lower, curious. “Weird.”
“Super weird,” Y/N nodded. “They said he was… stabbed or something. I don’t know. Cops are looking into it.”
“Mm.” Mingi reached up to scratch the back of his neck, fingers brushing the chain around his throat. “You okay?”
She looked at him. Really looked. And something about the way he stood there, casual, unbothered, dark eyes fixed on her like she was the only person in a hundred mile radius, made her stomach twist.
But she nodded anyway. “Yeah. Just… the timing. It’s messed up.” It was almost exactly one year since that night. Since everything. When she first met Bae and he waved off her injuries as if they were nothing. An accident.
Mingi’s mouth twitched. “Yeah,” he echoed. “Timing sucks.” A beat passed between them before he jerked his head toward the building. “You heading to class?”
“With Yunho.”
“Of course,” Mingi smirked, falling into step beside her. “Professor Uncle still giving his, I’m totally not a narcissist, lectures?”
Y/N groaned. “Mingi…”
“What?” he blinked, too innocent. “I’m asking academically.”
She nudged him hard with her shoulder making him grin even wider, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes. Not really.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The classroom for Professor Shultz’s, Advanced Psych & Moral Philosophy, was always way too cold.
Y/N tugged her hoodie sleeves down over her hands as she stepped through the heavy double doors, her coffee long since drained, warmth only a memory. The tiered lecture hall had maybe twenty students already trickled in, some tapping away on laptops, others half asleep against their backpacks.
And then there was him.
Yunho.
Back row. Hoodie on. Cap pulled low. A quiet storm in the corner of the room. He had one AirPod in, one out. Legs stretched long in front of him, ankles crossed, a notebook cracked open in front of him even though he never really took notes. He just liked to doodle in the margins, half finished horror icons, movie quotes, occasionally the outline of a ghost mask that would later vanish beneath a scribbled shadow.
He looked up as she approached, lips quirking just slightly as Y/N slid into the seat beside him without asking, without thinking. It was routine by now. Comfort. Her safe spot in a class that never felt safe.
“Morning,” she whispered.
Yunho tilted his head, pulling out his AirPod. “You’re late.”
“Coffee,” she said simply.
His eyes scanned her face briefly, lingering just a second too long, like he was checking for something. Bruises, maybe? Her asshole ex did still go there. Stress? The kind of tension that didn’t come from lack of sleep.
“I saw the news,” she murmured, dropping her voice as Professor Shultz started loading his slides at the front. “About Dr. Bae.”
Yunho didn’t answer right away. He leaned back, arms folding across his chest. The chain on his wrist clicked faintly against the desk edge. “Sloppy kill,” he said under his breath, so low it took her a second to register the words.
She blinked at him.
“I mean…” he added quickly, smirking now, teasing, like a joke. “if this is, like, some masked psycho running around campus? Sloppy. Cameras all over the med quad. Could’ve done better.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’re such a freak.”
“You love that I’m a freak.”
“You watch too many horror movies.”
Yunho tapped his pen twice against the desk. “Correction, I study them. You never know when the knowledge might come in handy.”
She nudged his arm, and he let her, letting the contact linger as Professor Shultz cleared his throat at the front of the room. “Phones away. Eyes up. Today we’re talking about moral relativism and the psychology of guilt.”
Y/N stiffened.
Yunho felt it.
He glanced at her again, softer now, his voice barely audible as he leaned just an inch closer. “Hey,” he said. “You good?”
She nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. Just… I didn’t sleep great.”
Yunho didn’t say anything, but his foot nudged hers under the desk. Not by accident. Not a joke. Just there. Steady.
She pressed her foot back against his, just for a second.
Professor Shultz began to drone on about Nietzsche and subjective morality, the words bouncing off the walls of the lecture hall like flies hitting glass.
Yunho’s eyes stayed on the professor. But his thoughts were already outside. Already planning the next one as the projector flickered once, briefly casting warped shadows across Professor Shultz’s face before settling into a PowerPoint slide that read, The Psychology of Guilt: Is There Such a Thing as a Justified Crime?
Yunho could feel Y/N shift slightly beside him. Not much. Just a small twitch of discomfort. She didn’t like this topic. Not since… last year.
Not since Darren. Darren Shultz. Professor Shultz narcissistic, rich, asshole, nephew. And Y/N’s ex.
Professor Shultz adjusted his tie, he always wore the same one on Thursdays, navy with faded gold stripes, and gripped the podium like he was about to launch into a TED Talk. The air in the room tightened.
“Let’s open this up,” he said smoothly, eyes scanning the class. “Hypothetically… if someone commits a violent act, but claims it was justice, retribution, should we empathize with them? Or are they still a criminal? A monster?”
He let the silence stretch a beat too long. Then his eyes landed squarely on Y/N.
“Miss Y/L/N.”
Her breath caught and Yunho’s pen stopped moving.
Shultz’s smile was polite. Too polite. He always used her full name. Always said it just a little too loud. “What’s your take?” he asked. “Should someone be excused for violence if they believe it’s protecting someone else?”
Y/N straightened in her seat, glancing briefly at Yunho beside her. He didn’t look back. He was watching Shultz. Staring.
Hard.
“I… think it depends on the context,” she said carefully. “Motive matters. If someone’s trying to protect someone they care about, especially from something ongoing or dangerous, it’s different than just… revenge for its own sake.”
“Mmm,” Shultz hummed, clearly enjoying this. “So you’re saying you’d justify premeditated violence under the right emotional circumstances?”
“I’m saying it’s complicated,” Y/N replied, her voice steady despite the sting behind her ribs.
“Let’s try something else,” Shultz said, eyes scanning over his students now, mirth in the depths of them. Pettiness. “Rapid fire. Think fast. Gut instinct. That’s how we uncover what you really believe.”
He turned suddenly, finger outstretched like a loaded weapon, once again staring at Y/N.
“Miss Y/L/N.”
Y/N stiffened in her seat again and Shultz smiled, all shark teeth and faux encouragement. “Let’s play a game of guilt or innocence. You’ll be the jury. Ready?”
Y/N nodded slowly, tension creeping down her spine as Shultz held up one finger.
“A man breaks into a home, finds a child being abused, and kills the abuser. Guilty or innocent?”
Y/N blinked. “Uh… innocent?”
“Wrong,” Shultz said sharply, his voice bouncing off the walls. “Still murder. Try again.”
Yunho’s hand twitched on the desk as Shultz stepped closer to the front row, still facing her. “Scenario two. A woman poisons her husband after discovering years of infidelity. Guilt or innocence?”
Y/N hesitated. “Guilty?”
“Wrong,” he snapped again, louder this time. “Self defense of emotional autonomy. Come on, Y/L/N. Think.”
A few students glanced around uncomfortably. Someone in the middle row let out an awkward laugh as Y/N’s cheeks flushed.
She glanced sideways at Yunho, who was dead silent, jaw tight, eyes trained straight ahead. His fingers tapped once, twice, on his notebook. A code only Mingi would know if he were there.
I’m going to kill this man.
“Last one,” Shultz said, voice sickly sweet. “A girl accuses someone powerful of abuse. No charges stick. No consequences. Was she lying?”
Y/N’s breath caught as Shultz stared at her like he already knew the answer he wanted to hear.
“No,” she said, voice tight. “She wasn’t lying.”
Shultz didn’t say “wrong” this time. He just smiled.
And that was worse.
Yunho turned toward him slowly, leaning forward, elbows on the desk. His voice was calm, casual.
“Hey, Professor?”
“Yes, Mr. Jeong?”
“Just curious…” Yunho’s lips curled upward, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What’s it like, teaching ethics when you clearly don’t have any?”
Shultz blinked, thrown. “Excuse me?”
Yunho shrugged. “It’s just impressive. The way you twist real trauma into lecture material. Bet your nephew’s real proud.”
A ripple of “ohhh shit” energy buzzed through the class as Y/N looked over at Yunho like he’d slapped the professor with a textbook.
Shultz opened his mouth, closed it again and Yunho just leaned back, hoodie bunched up around his shoulders, cap shadowing his eyes. “Thought so.”
Class ended ten minutes early.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The air smelled like fried garlic and fresh rice the moment they stepped off the main road, campus fading behind them as Y/N and Yunho turned down the narrow alley that led to Namji’s, their favorite restaurant.
The sign above the door flickered between OPEN and PEN like always, and the plastic sheet covering the entrance crackled in the breeze as they pushed through it. The place was tucked between a record store and a laundromat, the kind of hole in the wall spot that only regulars knew to find.
One long booth hugged the wall, with scuffed black tables and mismatched chopsticks, and the walls were covered in faded band posters and photos of customers who looked way too happy for how spicy the food was.
Y/N tugged her hoodie off and shook out her hair as they stepped inside, cheeks still flushed from the walk. Yunho held the door for her out of habit, cap still low over his brow, hood up. From a distance, he looked like someone who wouldn’t speak unless spoken to.
Up close?
He watched everything.
Mingi was already there, sprawled in the booth against the wall like he owned the damn place. Hair messy, silver rings flashing as he typed something on his phone, black nails drumming against the tabletop.
Jongho sat across from him, halfway through a bowl of tteokbokki, waving them over with his chopsticks. “Yah, slowpokes! You missed round one.”
Mingi looked up at them, eyes landing on Y/N first. “About time.”
“We had class,” she said, sliding into the booth beside Jongho. Yunho took the seat beside Mingi, bumping his knee under the table in greeting.
Mingi watched her tuck her hair behind her ear, the way she avoided eye contact for just a second too long. “You okay?” he asked quietly, just for her.
She glanced up, blinking like she didn’t expect the question. “Yeah. Just… I hate that class.”
He didn’t push. He just nodded, eyes soft. “Shultz is a dick.”
Jongho coughed into his water, nearly choking. “Understatement of the year.”
Y/N let out a breathy laugh, but it didn’t last. Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. Jongho leaned in. “What happened?”
“She called a murderer innocent,” Yunho said casually, reaching for a side dish. “And the professor called her out like he was hosting, Survivor: Sociopath Edition.”
Y/N groaned. “Don’t make it worse.”
“You kidding?” Jongho smirked, leaning back. “It’s Shultz. He is the worse.”
Yunho’s eyes stayed on her, the heat under his skin barely restrained. He hadn’t stopped thinking about that moment. The way her voice caught. The way Shultz smiled.
And then she looked at Yunho again. And smiled.
Soft. Real.
Something in him cracked a little deeper.
Mingi clocked it. The way Yunho looked at her. The way he didn’t even pretend to look away. He didn’t say anything, just smirked into his water glass.
“I swear,” Jongho said, oblivious, “if that guy was my uncle, I’d legally change my name.”
Mingi grinned. “Don’t worry. He won’t be around long enough to ruin yours.”
Yunho didn’t laugh.
But he did reach for the menu like he hadn’t just plotted a murder in his head.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
By the time the food hit the table, things had started to feel almost normal again.
Almost.
The table was covered in dishes, kimchi fried rice, bulgogi, jjajangmyeon, a bubbling pot of sundubu jjigae that Mingi claimed for himself with dramatic flair.
Jongho was recounting some story about catching two freshmen hooking up behind the gym, “I swear they were hiding in a mop closet, like it was some rom com scene from hell” and Yunho was actually laughing now, low and under his breath.
Y/N sat between Yunho and Jongho, chopsticks pinched around a spicy rice cake, the burn still lingering on her lips from her last bite.
“Okay but real talk,” Jongho said, pointing his chopsticks between them. “If you had to survive a horror movie, who’d last longest?”
“Me,” Mingi said instantly, mouth full. “I am the horror movie.”
Yunho gave him a look. “You’d trip running away from your own reflection.”
“Yeah, and I’d still get up and finish the job,” Mingi smirked, leaning back. “Come on. Be honest. You’d want me on your team.”
Y/N snorted. “You’d be the guy who survives just because the killer thinks you’re too annoying to be worth the trouble.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Yunho would survive,” Jongho declared. “He watches enough slashers to have an actual strategy.”
Yunho didn’t deny it. He just dipped a dumpling into soy sauce and said, deadpan, “Double tap the body. Don’t check basements. Don’t trust the final girl unless you are the final girl.”
“You’re not normal,” Y/N muttered around a laugh.
“I never claimed to be.”
Mingi, mid chew, added, “Final girl energy though? That’s you.”
Y/N froze just slightly. Not visibly. But Yunho noticed.
“Baby, this place is a total waste, but whatever, they’ve got decent dumplings.”
Y/N’s spine went ramrod straight.
Darren.
The girl with him giggled, high pitched and syrupy, and said something about calories and carbs. Darren laughed like he gave a damn.
He didn’t see them at first. He was too busy playing the charming asshole card.
“Oh. Shit.” He stopped cold.
Y/N didn’t look up.
Yunho did. His eyes locked with Darren’s across the restaurant. Something passed between them, silent, charged. Yunho didn’t blink.
Darren’s new girl tugged on his arm, confused. “What’s wrong?” And he recovered quickly. Too quickly.
He smirked.
Of course he did.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just… used to come here a lot. Let’s go sit.”
Yunho’s jaw flexed and Mingi was already looking at him. He hadn’t even turned to see Darren, he just knew. He could feel it in the air, in the shift behind Yunho’s eyes.
Y/N finally looked down at her lap. Her hands were shaking.
Yunho leaned close. Just enough that only she could hear. “You want to go?”
She shook her head. “No. He doesn’t get to ruin this too.”
Yunho swallowed hard. “You sure?”
She nodded.
But he was already picturing it.
Not the confrontation.
The end.
The way Darren would look begging on his knees.
The way Mingi would grin through the blood.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The sun had barely shifted, but the wind had picked up again. The clouds had thickened just enough to dull the warmth, and the trees along the dorm path cast long, crooked shadows on the pavement.
Y/N tugged her hoodie back on as they walked, the leftover spice from lunch still burning on her lips. Jongho walked beside her, his backpack slung over one shoulder, still sipping from a takeaway iced tea.
“Thanks for walking with me,” she said quietly, brushing her knuckles against his hand before tucking both into her sleeves.
“Of course,” Jongho said. “You know I always will.”
Their steps fell into a familiar rhythm. It had been like this since last year, since everything. Jongho was one of the few people who didn’t ask stupid questions. Didn’t demand proof. Didn’t flinch when she told the truth.
He just believed her.
“You okay?” he asked after a while, glancing at her sideways. “You were quiet after… you know.”
Y/N hesitated. “Yeah. It was just weird. Seeing him.”
Jongho didn’t say his name. He never did unless she did first. “He’s not worth the brain space,” he muttered, voice hardening. “Still walking around like nothing happened. And now he’s got a new girlfriend? Classic narcissist behavior.”
Y/N gave a humorless laugh. “She has no idea what she’s getting into.”
They walked in silence for a bit longer, feet crunching against leaves scattered across the sidewalk.
Then Jongho sighed. “You see the news this morning?”
She nodded. “The doctor?”
“Dr. Bae, yeah. Med quad guy. Found him near the parking garage last night.”
Y/N’s stomach twisted.
Jongho shook his head. “I don’t usually say this, but… he deserved it.”
That made her blink.
Jongho never said things like that.
“He was the one who looked at you and said it was a fall,” he added, bitter. “He knew better. He just liked the amount of money Daddy Shultz tossed at him more than his morals.”
Y/N swallowed hard. “It’s not like he was the only one.”
“No,” Jongho agreed. “But he was the first. And the loudest.”
Y/N bit the inside of her cheek.
Jongho sighed. “I don’t know who’s doing it…. killing people, but if it’s someone out for justice?” He shrugged. “I’m not losing sleep.”
She stopped walking and he turned back, confused.
Y/N looked up at him. “You don’t mean that.”
Jongho gave her a soft, crooked smile. “I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. That’s all.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say.
So she hugged him. Right there, under the low archway of her dorm’s entryway, where the paint was chipped and the ivy was starting to curl down from the brick. She wrapped her arms around Jongho, and he hugged her back, careful but firm.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” she murmured into his shoulder.
“I always will be.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The lecture hall was dark except for the pool of white light spilling from the desk lamp on Professor Shultz’s podium. The rest of the room was bathed in shadows, rows of empty seats sloping down into quiet nothing.
The faint scratching of red ink filled the silence, his pen dragging furiously across yet another mediocre paper. He muttered to himself as he flipped the page, nose wrinkling in disdain. “Inadequate understanding of moral relativism… lazy citation formatting…”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Teaching was beneath him. He only took this position because the department owed his family a favor. And yet here he was, grading papers from undergrads who couldn’t even spell Nietzsche.
Outside, the wind picked up.
The door at the back of the hall creaked.
Shultz didn’t look up as the creak happened again, just letting his voice echo. “Hello?” He called out.
Silence.
He rolled his eyes. Probably some idiot freshman thinking it’d be funny to sneak in and jump scare him for the spooky holiday season. He capped his pen and stood, walking toward the edge of the stage, eyes narrowing toward the back of the room.
That’s when he saw it. Standing in the aisle halfway up the steps. Tall. Still. Black robes draped like shadow itself. A white Ghostface mask tilted just slightly to the side, catching the light in all the wrong ways.
Shultz blinked. “Seriously?”
The figure didn’t move.
He groaned. “It’s October. I get it. Spooky season. Ha ha. Get the hell out of my classroom.”
Ghostface didn’t budge.
“I’m serious,” he barked. “Leave, or I’m calling security.”
He turned toward the desk to grab his phone only to freeze as another figure stepped out from behind the side curtain.
Another mask.
Another robe.
This one moved like smoke. Quiet. Lethal.
Shultz’s blood turned cold as he tried to play it off, voice shaking just slightly as he stepped back. “If you’re students of mine, trust me…. this little stunt? You’ll fail this class. You think this is funny?”
The first Ghostface, the one in the aisle, started walking. Slow. Purposeful.
Yunho.
His boots echoed with each step, deliberate and chilling. The hem of his cloak whispered against the concrete floor. “Let’s play a game,” the voice distorted through the mask. “A series of questions.”
Shultz backed toward the desk, pulse now rabbiting beneath his skin as Yunho kept coming. “You get them right,” he said, tilting his head. “We’ll let you live.”
He paused.
“Get them wrong…”
Mingi moved. Fast. He was behind Shultz in a second, hands shoving hard between his shoulder blades.
Shultz stumbled forward with a choked sound, landing hard on his knees in front of Yunho, hands scraping against the floor. His glasses went askew, one lens cracking on impact as Yunho crouched.
Face to mask. He tilted his head again. “I love pop quizzes,” he whispered and Mingi’s laugh echoed from behind them, low and sharp like glass shattering in the dark.
The concrete was cold beneath Shultz’s knees. His palms stung from the fall. One lens of his glasses had cracked diagonally, making the world shift every time he blinked. He reached up, trembling, trying to adjust them, but the dark shape crouching in front of him made him freeze.
The mask was inches from his face. Too close. Too still. The exaggerated cartoon scream twisted into something unholy in the stark overhead light. The figure tilted his head, just a little. Not playfully. Curiously. Like a predator getting ready to study his prey.
Ghostface leaned forward, just enough to cast his shadow across the professor’s lap. A gloved finger tapped once against the ground like a metronome. “What’s Y/N’s favorite scary movie?”
Shultz blinked. “What?”
The blade flashed. Not swung. Not stabbed. Just lifted, slowly, until the glint of silver hovered between them. “Come on, Professor,” the voice taunted. “You know so much about psychology. Trauma. Girls like her. Surely you paid attention.”
Behind him, the second Ghostface, let out a low, off key hum. Childlike. Mocking.
“I… I don’t….” Shultz stammered, sweat beading at his brow. “This isn’t…. I don’t know! Halloween? The Shining?”
Yunho exhaled slowly, like he’d just been disappointed by a student he knew had potential.
“Wrong.”
The blade moved. A flash of silver, clean, precise, and then pain exploded through Shultz’s left thigh as Yunho drove the knife in just deep enough to draw a scream. Not fatal. Not sloppy. Just punishment.
Shultz was sobbing now.
The cut bled slow and steady, staining his pants, his glasses had fallen off again. His voice was barely audible through his ragged breathing and pain choked plea.
But Yunho wasn’t finished. He crouched again, calm as ever, voice a quiet, thoughtful echo behind the mask. “Let’s try again.”
Shultz whimpered. “Please..”
“What’s Y/N’s favorite scary movie?”
“I…. I told you….” The professor tried standing, “I don’t ….”
Yunho’s hand twitched and Mingi didn’t wait for a cue, he kicked the professor’s leg out from under him, sending him sprawling again.
“Wrong,” Yunho said softly, and drove the knife into the professor’s shoulder. Clean. Precise.
Shultz shrieked.
“Try again,” Yunho said, withdrawing the blade.
“Is it… is it The Babadook?” Shultz wheezed. “Or…. Hereditary?”
“Wrong.”
A slash across the arm.
Mingi hummed like a game show buzzer as Shultz screamed again, louder this time, echoing through the vast, empty room.
“You’re really bad at this,” Mingi said, wiping his blade against the edge of a student’s abandoned hoodie hanging over a chair.
“Come on, Professor,” Yunho whispered, crouching lower again. “Think. She wore the shirt twice. Quoted it on her birthday. Had you actually looked at her for one second like a human being instead of a case file…”
Shultz choked out a gasp. “Scream! Is it…. Scream?”
Yunho stilled, tilting his head toward Mingi.
Mingi froze too.
Then Yunho asked, very softly, “Which one?”
Shultz blinked. “Wha…. what?”
“Last chance,” Mingi said, voice sharp, no longer playful.
Shultz’s voice trembled. “The….. the second one?”
Silence.
Utter, awful silence.
Yunho shook his head slowly. “Wrong.”
Mingi grabbed Shultz by the collar of his bloody button down, yanking him up to his knees. The professor thrashed, weakly, but it didn’t matter. Mingi held him steady, strong arms like a vice.
Yunho stepped forward. Calm. Unhurried. The blade in his hand catching the flickering light from the old classroom projector still running a loop of lecture slides behind them.
“The first one,” Yunho said, voice low and final. “It’s the best one. Billy and Stu? Classic.”
He tilted his head.
“Just like this.”
Then, with surgical precision, he reached out, and slit Professor Shultz’s throat. A clean, efficient line. One long pull of the blade and blood sprayed, hot and fast, across the tile floor and Yunho’s boots. Shultz gurgled. Twitched once.
Then went still.
Mingi let him drop, the body hitting the floor with a heavy, wet thud.
Yunho stood over it for a moment, breathing slow and steady behind the mask. Then he wiped the blade clean on the hem of Shultz’s own shirt and slipped it back beneath his cloak.
Mingi stepped beside him and they disappeared out the back exit of the hall, boots echoing against the cement, the sound swallowed by silence.
Warnings: not biblically accurate AT ALL, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, yandere themes, rape, bondage, oral (f recieving), purely fiction, body worship, he is fucked in the head, read at your own risk!!! minors dni
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Yeosang hated humans.
He had always thought of them as lesser creatures, even as his brethren thought of them as cute and clueless, Yeosang knew what they were truly capable of.
Being a guardian angel to a monster disguised as a human was hard, and having to watch that monster hurt innocent people, was enough to convince Yeosang to never trust a human again.
“Forgive me father,” Yeosang spoke. The cathedral was empty at this time of day, so he found himself here, begging for forgiveness in such a pathetic human place. He would’ve returned to his own realm, if it weren’t for the sin he had committed.
Surely they’ll never forgive him for killing a human. It’s the one rule Angels can never break, no matter what. They were sent to help the poor humans, so committing such a crime could never be forgiven.
As much as Yeosang wanted to feel bad, he just couldn’t. Seeing the human he was assigned to protect rape innocent women was enough to make Yeosang snap.
“These filthy humans…” he spoke lowly before standing up to leave the cathedral once again. His majestic wings shimmered in the moonlight shining through the windows as he finally decided to make his way back to his realm. If it was one thing he had learned from his brethren, it was to never avoid the inevitable.
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Yeosang’s anguished scream was probably heard by all creatures of the realm, as he was harshly whipped. When yet another whipping sound was heard, it was soon followed by another sound of pure terror.
The blonde angel had to admit that he had it coming. He knew what he did when he decided to personally murder that disgusting man, and even as he felt the harsh whip crack the skin of his chest open once again, he didn’t feel an ounce of regret.
As he felt himself slowly lose consciousness after the hours of torture, he was sure this was the end. Angels were known to be immortal in the human realm, but they could die in the hands of another supernatural being.
As he finally felt the deep and dark slumber wash over him, a wave of relief did so as well. Finally, his suffering was going to end, and he wouldn’t have to endure the miserable life of an angel anymore.
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It was a rainy evening, the dark clouds occasionally being illuminated by the bright lightning. You heard the rumble of thunder as you drove home from work on the empty driveway.
Suddenly, your attention was snatched by something odd laying on the side of the rode. You squinted, trying to see the oddly shaped thing. As you came closer and closer, your eyes only widened further.
Wings.
Big, white and graceful wings were wrapped around the creature. You wondered if it was some kind of bird, but you had never seen such big wings before.
As you came closer to the odd thing, you pulled over and rushed out of the car to examine it.
You started looking at it from different angles, but when you finally saw the full form of the creature, you froze.
It was a human. With wings.
You blinked.
Without even processing those unimaginable thoughts for longer, you stepped closer to him. He looked young, and his chest and stomach was filled with wounds, bleeding out. The only clothes he seemed to wear was a type of cloth around his hips, covering up his private parts. You crouched down, trying to get a better look at him.
He was lying on his side, his right wing wrapped protectively around him like a shield. His body weight was pressed over the other, and even though you still couldn’t comprehend this being, you could tell he needed help.
His eyes were closed, and even after just getting a brief look at his face, you gasped in awe at his beauty.
An angel?
You thought back to your mother, who told you tales about the angels. Those who protect us every single day, without us knowing a thing.
You had always thought of those stories as fairytales, but right now, you had no choice but to believe them.
You grabbed his wounded shoulders, trying your best to avoid any cuts, and tried shaking him awake.
“Hello?” your voice called for him, laced with panic and urgency. Your breath only picked up more when he showed no signs of consciousness, lying there like a lifeless doll on the ground.
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A voice.
Small, but so apparent.
Yeosang contemplated whether he was dead or not. It was unknown to him what would happen if an angel died. Would he be eternally punished for his sins?
That voice.
He heard it again.
It wasn’t the voice of some cruel demon wanting to hurt him, it was one laced with concern and care.
He didn’t want to believe what his suspicions told him.
A human woman.
Yeosang felt his body being shaken. Two hands were wrapped around his forearms, too gently to hurt, but too firm to go unnoticed in the state he found himself in.
Somewhere in between life and death. This voice, these hands, they were desperately trying to pull him towards life.
He found himself growing more and more aware, and suddenly, you were there. You were right in front of him.
Surely, this creature couldn’t be human.
Such a warm gaze, such a gentle tone, even when in distress. Such beauty, what could he had possibly done to deserve such a deity’s tender attention.
Your eyes roamed his wounded body, and occasionally met his half opened eyes, admiring you.
“Here, please let me help you,” he heard your voice sound out. His wings flapped in discomfort, and just then, he realized the position he was in. A groan of pain escaped his lips as his body weight pressed down on his injured wing.
You tried to pull him upwards, and his surprisingly light body came crashing down in your embrace. You still tried your best not to hurt his already wounded body.
Yeosang’s head snapped up, meeting your gaze. He examined your face with caution. She looked human. He knew there were kind humans out there, but a part of him didn’t want to believe it.
“Do you think you could walk with me to my car?” you asked. The intense worry in your voice shocked the angel. Why would you care so much for someone you had never encountered before?
As you helped him stand up, he hissed in pain when you accidentally brushed up against his injured wing. You apologized immediately, slowly leading him to your car.
The quiet rumble of the engine soothed the injured angel in your backseat. In order to fit his large wings in your small car, he had to almost lay down. You weren’t happy with his position, but made sure to try and drive as safely as possible, not wanting to cause an accident.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you focused on driving. He noticed the way you purposely avoided all the road bumps, clearly not wanting him to get further injured.
He had never been this mesmerized with a mere human before. Having seen them every day for years, this was the first time someone managed to catch his attention in this way.
He ended up silently admiring you the entire car ride home, not wanting to tear his eyes away from you for a reason he couldn’t understand. What about you was so special? Why did he feel the need to protect you? Sure, as a guardian angel, it was his job to protect his assigned human, but he had never felt such an obligation to do so until as of right now.
You eyed the curious angel in your backseat through the rear-view window, still not quite believing your own eyes. As you stopped the car, you had to gather all your sanity to talk to him again. Had you gone crazy? Was this some weird hallucination who you spoke to?
It had felt so real, helping him to your car, touching his blemished skin.
When you finally appeared at the small cottage you had learned to call home, you noticed that the rain had stopped. You smiled slightly when you stepped out of the car, only being able to smell the previous downpour.
“Here, let me help you out,” you suggested to the man in your backseat, reaching out your hand for him to grab. His eyes were wide with interest, as he slowly put his hand in yours. He blinked at the sudden touch.
As you gently led him into your house, sitting him down on a chair in the kitchen, Yeosang’s eyes never left your face. You didn’t know what to think of it. You honestly didn’t know what to think of any of this.
“Okay, I’ll go get some things to clean your wounds with, so you just stay put,” you said, sounding unsure of yourself. Yeosang only nodded, knowing that your human medicine might not work on him, but not minding having you try and take care of him.
As you rushed to the bathroom, you felt a wave of panic wash over you. There was a random man, if you could even call him that, in your house. Where did he come from? Why was he lying on the street covered in wounds? What is he?
You gathered tour thoughts, and decided to just focus on what you could do right now, which was just helping him patch up.
As you anxiously stepped into your small kitchen again, you noticed that he had stood up, currently examining a painting on your wall.
“O- Oh no, please sit down,” you begged, slowly walking up to him. “You’re hurt.”
He looked at you, and immediately went back to the position you left him in, sitting obediently on the chair. You sighed as you picked up an antibacterial liquid, coating a cotton swab with it.
“This might sting,” you said apologetically, slowly cleaning one of the wounds on his stomach. You eyed his reaction, but barely found a response, he just kept his eyes plastered on your face in interest.
As you continued treating his wounds, Yeosang felt an odd feeling in his stomach. Even when his wings were aching like never before, the pain of literally falling out of the sky haunting him, he could only focus on one thing right now.
You.
You were such a sweet little human. As much as it was endearing, it was also confusing. Humans were vile creatures, only causing trouble on earth, so why were you an exception? It almost frustrated the angel. It was as if his beliefs got crushed, proving him wrong about the humans.
Oh, but you were so cute. Helping him with his wounds, treating them with such care and weariness.
Yeosang thought that, maybe this was a sign from the gods. Maybe, his sins would only be forgiven if he succeeded at his new task.
Protecting you.
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For the first few days, Yeosang assumed you were just a kind hearted human, who was willing to take care of him when he needed it most. But when he gazed upon your worried expression as you tenderly cleaned his legs, making sure not to brush up against his not yet fully healed injuries, another thought came to him.
You weren’t just a mere human, no. You were something else. Perhaps, some unknown force granted him a new opportunity to prove himself, by giving him a new chance.
A goddess.
A new person for him to devote himself to, only this time, in human form.
Surely it couldn’t have been a coincidence, meeting you that day, when he was in such desperate need for care.
“Yeosang, are you listening to me?” you smiled, looking up at the man’s dazed eyes. He blinked, before looking away in shame. “Sorry, what were you saying?” Yeosang said quietly, his gaze meeting yours.
“Do your wounds still hurt? Do you want me to get some medicine?” you repeated, causing Yeosang to immediately shake his head. “No, no, there’s… No need for that,” he replied, hands finding the towel laying in his lap.
For the past few days, you had been taking care of Yeosang like one would take care of a child, in need of constant care. You made him meals, bathed him and made sure he got enough sleep every night. When he explained to you what his life had been like before you found him, you couldn’t even believe what you were hearing.
If anyone else would’ve told you these obscure stories about angels, you would’ve never believed a single word, but as you woke up every morning with the winged man still in your house, you had no choice but to believe him.
And at this point, you didn’t know what to do with him. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, but honestly, you couldn’t afford taking care of him for however long he needed it.
Yeosang didn’t seem the least bit worried about his future though. He just kept a small smile plastered on his lips as you tended to his needs.
You watched as he politely wiped his lips after finishing the breakfast you had provided him.
“Thank you so much, Y/n,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.
“Yeah, I have to get to work now,” you spoke, getting up to put your outerwear on, but a hand around your wrist halted you in your movements. Your head snapped back to Yeosang, who had stood up from his seat, an almost frightened look on his face.
“N-no don’t…” he started, fingers grazing your wrist carefully.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, and there’s lunch for you to heat up when I’m gone,” you comforted, awkwardly trying to shake his grip on you.
He pouted and let out a whine in disagreement, like a child throwing a tantrum. Yeosang knew that if his brethren saw him like this, they wouldn’t be able to stifle their laughter. His utter disgust with the human race was such a contrast to his behavior right now, feeling such sadness at the thought of you leaving.
Just as you were about to wave Yeosang goodbye, he pulled your body towards his in a long hug, his almost fully healed wings wrapping around the two of you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You felt flustered at his sudden display of affection, but just assumed he felt scared to be alone. He hadn’t spent a single moment alone as a fallen angel, without you by his side, aiding to his needs constantly.
Yeosang watched as your car drove further and further away from your small house, the sound of the engine slowly fading away. He felt so useless, not being able to watch over you in your daily life. Who knew what type of humans would encounter you today? Who knew what they would to do you?
Yeosang took a few deep breaths. He had to keep himself calm, and presentable for you, his goddess. You were never to see him in such a state, lacking self control. He needed to prove himself as your devoted follower.
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“Y/n! You’re home!” Yeosang cheered as he practically flew up from the couch, running up to you as you stepped inside. You felt a comfortable warmth when he took your hands in his, yours being cold from the october weather outside. He rubbed the back of your hands with his thumbs, continuing to warm them.
A look of distress covered his features before he wrapped his arms around you. You never expected him to be so touchy, but honestly, couldn’t complain.
You hadn’t received this type of affection from someone in years, and knowing someone was anticipating your return from work felt… good.
You didn’t want to admit it, thinking back to the fact that this man was a complete stranger, and a fallen angel at that.
“You’re freezing,” he pouted, his arms rubbing your shoulders. “You have to dress more appropriately,” he scolded, but you only giggled at his attempt at sounding tough.
“I’m fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes before detangling yourself from his arms. His eyes kept following your figure as you took off your shoes and coat, never once leaving your form, even as you started becoming visibly uncomfortable with his stare.
You were just so, enchanting. Something about you was so graceful and beautiful. The way you swiftly took off your coat, or just the way your hair curved when you tucked it behind your ears. Yeosang couldn’t tell if he wanted you to dote on him for the rest of your life, or if he wanted to be the one to take care of you. He didn’t want to disturb you with his needs and wants, but oh, how wonderful it felt to have someone like you look after him. He could easily make himself seem more helpless than he actually is, just to observe you when you take care of him.
After dinner, it didn’t take long until you were passed out on the couch. The meaningless program on the TV, paired with the exhaustion from your long shift, made your eyelids heavy in a matter of seconds. Yeosang watched closely as your chest rose and fell in your deep slumber.
A small gasp escaped his lips. How could someone be so beautiful, even when fast asleep? You looked so peaceful and calm, contrasting your somewhat stressed demeanor that you always seemed to have during the day.
Yeosang wanted to make every day for you free of stress and anxiety. You deserved to be loved, cherished and taken care of in a way no other human could even dream of.
You didn’t wake up when you were slowly picked up from your position on the couch. The TV turned off, and the sweet humming of Yeosang being the only thing heard in your house.
Yeosang made sure not to move you too quickly when he put you down on the soft bed. When you were at work, he had tried his best to understand everything there was to know about your house, so he had quickly learned where you kept all of your clothes.
Just as he was about to pull out some clothes for you to sleep in, he had a thought.
Did you really need clothes to sleep in?
Angels never wore clothes when sleeping, and after all, you had your blankets to cover your body. He closed your closet and walked up to your sleeping form. Looking down, he could see the way his hands were trembling slightly in excitement. Seeing a goddess like you unclothed would truly be a privilege, but as your devoted follower, he would make sure to make it up to you in any way he possibly could.
When Yeosang slowly pulled your pants down, revealing your bare legs, he felt an odd sensation between his legs. He twitched, and looked down to see his already fully ejected dick, forming a tent in the loose pants you’d provided for him.
Never in his life had he gotten so turned on this quickly. Angels were higher creatures, with more self control, so did becoming a fallen angel mean that he now had the sexual drive of a regular human? Yeosang tried his best to ignore his thoughts, and continued to undress you carefully.
His breath shuddered when he revealed your bare stomach. Unfortunately, you were wearing a bra. Another thing he hated about humans, their need to make the female gender suffer. Why should you need to wear such an uncomfortable thing? He sighed as he unclasped it from the back. He made sure his touch remained featherlight, not wanting to wake you up from your well deserved rest.
Now, the only thing remaining on you were your panties. Yeosang had to admit it felt perverted, to undress you like this when you weren’t conscious. He knew that humans felt ashamed to be seen bare, but he really only did this for your own comfort.
His hands gripped the soft fabric of your panties as he slowly pulled them down. He felt his heartbeat pick up in excitement when you were soon completely naked, small goosebumps showing up on your skin as the cold air chilled you.
You truly were divine.
Yeosang was sure he hadn’t seen you this beautiful before. You were truly unreal, your body curved to perfection, illuminated with such a gentle glow.
Your covers were gently thrown over your body. Yeosang started to undress himself, not being able to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. He wasn’t satisfied with the boxers you had given him. They were too tight, and not breathable enough, but if it made you happy, he would wear anything you asked him to.
As his body slowly sunk under the covers, he almost moaned at the feeling of the soft material against his skin. His wings had a mind of their own, instinctively wrapping around your body. Yeosang felt flustered as your body pushed against his. He inhaled your scent deeply, and couldn’t stop his hand from traveling lower on his body.
He had never felt this type of sexual frustration before. It was like he needed a release as quickly as possible. His hips soon started bucking into his soft hands, small moans of pleasure escaping him. He made sure to keep his eyes on you the whole time, making sure you stayed asleep.
His free arm snaked itself around your bare waist, his hand lovingly rubbing your stomach. Yeosang felt his orgasm building inside of him, and had to bite his lips in order to muffle his loud moans as he finally exploded into his hand, trying not to make a mess in your bed.
Even as Yeosang’s eyes started to roll back, he made sure to keep them on you. He couldn’t be distracted from your beauty. This was all because of you. As his breathing slowly calmed down again, he couldn’t stop himself from leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, the small whimpers you let out in your sleep making him think of something.
It felt so wrong.
Pleasuring himself like this, without even giving you an ounce of the same wonderful feelings of bliss. You deserved to be worshipped, not have someone worthless getting the pleasure of the sight of you without paying you for the privilege.
Yeosang’s hands pulled away from your form as he repositioned himself. He was now on top of you, the sheets pulled off of you to reveal the beauty underneath.
He started leaving open mouthed kisses down your body, his tongue occasionally licking your soft skin to get a taste of the divine. When his head came down to the level of your chest, he couldn’t help but attach his mouth to one of your soft breasts.
He started licking your nipples carefully, still making sure not to wake you up. When he noticed that you were still fast asleep, he got so bold as to suck on the hardened nubs, his tongue slowly flicking them. No words could describe the satisfaction he felt when you let out another small whimper. You must like it then, he thought.
He let his mouth keep wandering down, kisses being left all over your stomach, before he finally reached his final destination.
He gently held your thighs in his hands, his fingers softly kneading the flesh. He took a few deep breaths before doing what he couldn’t wait any longer to do. He felt a jolt of pleasure wash over him when he finally felt your warm sex on his tongue.
The erection he had worked to get down, was now bigger than ever.
His tongue started lapping you slowly, just drinking in your taste. Yeosang had to stifle a moan when he felt your divine juices coat his lips. Soon, the long laps evolved into fast licks to your clit, making you stir slightly in your sleep. Lewd sounds continued to escape your barely opened lips, your body succumbing to the pleasure of Yeosang’s tongue working wonders.
At this point, keeping you asleep wasn’t one of Yeosang’s concerns. He honestly wouldn’t mind it if you woke up. You deserved to feel this pleasure, and he could tell your orgasm was starting to build even as you kept sleeping, your hips bucking into his face slightly, in a way that was barely noticeable.
As his mouth started sucking on your clit, your little whimpers became moans instead, and Yeosang noticed the way you slowly regained consciousness.
He kept abusing your clit in a way he knew made you weak in the knees, and now, your eyes were opening. Your moans of pleasure got mixed with confused sounds, your mind not comprehending what was going on.
If Yeosang’s mouth wasn’t occupied, he would’ve told you to just enjoy it, to not worry about anything. But now, his only goal was to make you cum, to let you drown in the pleasure of an orgasm. And that, you did.
You couldn’t even think when you felt your thighs clench around his head in desperation, your orgasm washing over you, filling you with bliss. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your legs starting to shake. Yeosang’s skillful tongue was still pleasuring you between your legs as you whined in overstimulation.
You blinked before grabbing Yeosang’s head. He obeyed when you pulled him upward slightly, his head eventually coming up to eye level with you.
“What are you doing—“ you slurred out, still feeling hazy from just having woken up. “Shh,” he hushed, his hands finding your hair. He laid down next to you, humming softly as his hands soothingly rubbed your head.
“It was just a dream…” you heard before slowly drifting into unconsciousness once again.
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Ever since that night, Yeosang had grown more and more desperate. At this point, one might even call him obsessed.
You had woken up completely clothed, with Yeosang acting completely natural. You felt so disgusted with yourself, having wet dreams of the innocent man who had been nothing but kind to you.
Yeosang smirked when he saw the look on your face that morning, clearly searching his face for any information. You must’ve just thought it was a dream. How cute.
Yeosang knew you felt ashamed, which probably meant you would try to subconsciously ‘make it up to him’ in some way. So one day when you came home from work, Yeosang innocently came up to you with a massage oil he found in your bathroom.
“Let me try…” he said, eyes twinkling with innocence. You couldn’t even deny him, that begging look in his eyes combined with your need for a massage making it impossible.
You were soon splayed out on the bed on your stomach, only a towel covering your private parts as Yeosang’s soft hands kneaded your back in just the right way. Yeosang felt his erection grow as you let out low moans of pleasure, mind wandering back to that night.
That’s when Yeosang first realized, he needed to have you again. He needed to continue worshipping at the altar that was your body.
You felt conflicted about Yeosang’s presence in your home. As much as you found it odd to have this creature in your own home, you had also grown fond of him, finding him more and more endearing for each day that passed.
But for each day that passed, Yeosang felt himself become more and more possessive over you. You were his goddess. No human could ever even begin to understand your importance on this earth, so hearing you talk on the phone with your coworkers, especially those of the male gender, made Yeosang’s skin crawl in disgust.
You were just watching TV one afternoon when Yeosang plopped himself down on his knees in front of you. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but he answered before you could utter the question.
“Please Y/n,” he started, his voice laced with utter desperation. His eyes found yours, before he said words you would never expect to exit his mouth. “Let me taste you again.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, your head tilting. You didn’t want to realize what he was actually saying.
“That night… It- It wasn’t a dream, Y/n,” he confessed, his eyes continually staring into your wide ones. “I know you enjoyed it,” he continued, his hands starting to explore the length of your legs.
You immediately scooted away from your spot in the couch, breath quickening in panic as you let his words sink in.
“What wasn’t a dream?” you tested him, still refusing to accept it.
“When I tasted you for the first time… Oh, it was so beautiful—“
“You did that to me in my sleep!?” you yelled, scrambling up from the couch and taking a few steps back. Yeosang followed suit, stepping closer to you with a confused expression.
“But Y/n, you enjoyed—“
“Have you done it multiple times?” you asked, voice cracking slightly in panic.
He paused. “Well, yes, but I just wanted to make you feel good—“
You interrupted him with a sharp gasp, your head shaking in disbelief.
“You freak!” you yelled, backing into the wall behind you, feeling disgusted at the man’s previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes widened at your outburst, his eyes already filling with tears. He never wanted it to be this way, he just wanted you to feel good—
As you were about to run past the man, you were harshly grabbed by your waist, almost causing you to fall. You were turned around to find Yeosang on his knees in front of you, clasping on to your body, his face pushed against your thighs.
“Don’t leave me, please,” he begged, his voice telling you that he was already crying. You didn’t know what to make of any of this. You felt intimidated by his steel grip on you, not allowing you to move a centimeter.
“My goddess please, I’ll do anything,” he sobbed. You looked down at him in confusion. “Goddess?” you echoed.
He only sobbed louder at your response, his arms now working to pull you down to his level. You eventually gave in to his pull, allowing yourself to be sat down in front of him on the floor. His arms wrapped around your form, his wings shielding the two of you.
You were stuck.
Yeosang’s tears blended with your own, as his mouth pressed kisses on your cheeks in some attempt at comforting you.
“Stay with me here, forever,” he whispered, hands roaming your body. “My goddess, I’ll do anything.”
You felt suffocated by the warmth of Yeosang’s body pressed against yours with his wings not letting any air into your little cocoon. The longer you stayed in there, the less conscious you became, your body eventually falling limp into Yeosang’s arms from the lack of air, sending you into a deep sleep that you would never forgive yourself for falling into.
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You woke up to the feeling of something wet and warm spreading its juices across your nipples, a whine escaping your throat as your eyes found the man responsible.
You viewed as his head lifted from your breasts, his tear-stained eyes meeting yours in a smile you could only describe as disgusting. His lips shined with his saliva, his teeth grazing them ever so lightly. He remained eye contact with you as his lips found your left nipple again, his tongue swirling against it before he sucked on it, making a pop sound when disconnecting from it.
“Good morning beautiful,” he spoke before switching to your right boob, his hand instead playing with the other. You immediately tried to get up, but noticed something restraining you from doing so.
You looked up to the horror of your hands tied to the headboard of your bed, the rope not budging when you tried to harshly pull your arms away. When trying to move your legs, you noticed that they wouldn’t budge either, making you whine in frustration, tears already forming in your eyes.
“Now you can stay here forever,” Yeosang giggled, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, before lowering his head to your chest once again. ”My goddess.”
