Pairing: SerialKillerGhostface!Mingi x (f)Reader x Boyfriend!Yunho
Rating: 18+ | Dead Dove
Genre: Dark Romance, Horror, Smut, Dead Dove, Angst, Fluff?
WC: 14.6k (unedited)
Happy Halloween, all you ravishing horror lovers. This Halloween special is dedicated to my readers who like to walk a bit on the extreme side. This fic was specially brewed for those deep, dark guilty pleasures that shall remain between you and me. Please read the tags carefully and do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with any of the mentioned content. Enjoy. 💋
Warnings Below the Cut...
Warnings/Tags: Please read tags carefully -> explicit language; murder; mentions/references to murder; blood; gore; violence; fear instilling; stalking; major character(s) death; explicit sexual content (detailed below); predator/prey dynamics; morally gray character(s); dark themes; self-inflicted harm; references to inflicting harm on others
Smut Tags: rough sex; unprotected sex; creampie; fear play; voyeurism; exhibitionism; dacryphilia; knife play (including insertion); blood play; LOTS of degradation; LOTS of dirty talk; spanking; hybristophilia; erotophonophilia; sadism; masochism; cuckold (but we're into it)
I pushed the car door with a little more force than I meant to as I stared at the dinky motel in front of me. The vacancy sign flickered as if it were on its last leg, the front office screen door no longer latched and slammed against the side of the building with every semi-strong gust of autumn wind, the paint around every door and window was peeling and in dire need of a facelift. Yeah. This would be the last time I ever let my boyfriend plan an entire getaway. A pair of arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me into their chest as a chin plopped down on top of my head.
“What do you think?”
“I think, I can’t believe I let you convince me to go on this trip in the first place.”
“It’s Halloween. Where’s your spirit?” He chuckled.
“I’m pretty sure this place has enough spirit for the both of us.” I laughed dryly, not even able to read the heavily faded motel sign.
“It’s charming.”
I pulled a face, glancing up at him.
“Yunho, this looks like a place you’d get murdered in. I wouldn’t exactly call it charming.”
He looked down at me, the same smile that captivated me the day we met curling the corners of his mouth.
“Well, there’s no other availability in town and the next nearest motel that was taking reservations is about an hour away in the next town over.”
“And leaving earlier to make that drive wasn’t an option?” I asked, eyebrow raised.
He leaned down a bit more, lips finding my ear.
“Then we would have been stuck with Wooyoung and San the whole time and I kind of wanted to be alone with you before those two got thrown into the mix.”
I had almost forgotten that I would be meeting two of his friends for the first time tonight. Wooyoung, San, and Yunho had known each other for forever. In the time Yunho had been together, I’d heard more stories about the three of them together than anything. Though I hadn’t officially met them, it felt as if I’d known them just as well as I did Yunho at this point. I bit my lip to hide my grin, wanting to give him shit for a little longer.
“So, you booked this shitty motel so we could spend more time together? How romantic.” I teased.
“Chivalry isn’t dead my love.” He teased back, planting a fat kiss on the top of my head. “Go check us in and I’ll grab our bags.”
Before he could peel himself away from me, I grabbed his wrist, dragging him back over.
“How about you go check us in, and I’ll grab our bags. I don’t want to walk into some creepy front office by myself.”
He rolled his eyes, but did as I asked, keeping the momentum as I pushed him towards the office.
“If this scares you, how do you plan on making it through Fear Fest?”
“That’s what you’re there for, right?” I shouted after him, giggling as he turned around to blow me a kiss.
I jumped for about the millionth time since arriving at this festival as another random girl let out a terrified shriek when one of the actors wandering the premises jumped out at her. The scream followed by a slew of giggles as her group of friends made fun of her. An arm curled its way around my shoulders, my body stiffening and whirling around to meet Yunho’s slightly worried gaze.
“You okay?”
I huffed a laugh, willing my body to release some of the tension it held as I nodded. Despite my efforts, I turned a wary eye to the massive castle in front of us. It was decked out in fake cobwebs and strobing lights. Fog emitting from its entrance thick enough to swirl at our feet even though there was still five or six large groups of people ahead of us in line. My gaze trailed to the huge 50-foot-tall skeletons standing guard in front of the door, cloaked in black hoods dark enough to where only their glowing red holes for eyes lit underneath them. Yunho had assured me that this wasn’t a typical haunted house. It was more of a museum of the dead where they displayed various torture devices and methods of execution throughout the years. Even then, I was slightly unsettled.
“Yeah.” I responded, tamping down my growing anxiety.
Yunho didn’t look convinced, his lips downturned into a slight frown, his body moving to stand in front of me.
“Hey.” He murmured gently, waiting for me to meet his gaze. “We don’t have to go in.”
Quickly, I shook my head. “No, you paid a lot for the tickets to get in here. We should do as much as we possibly can.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I assured him, grateful that I sounded surer this time as I reached for his hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. “Just, promise me that after we finish here we can look around that candle shop we passed by earlier by the entrance.”
He grinned, not at all surprised that I asked to go back there.
“Deal.” He chuckled, giving me a gentle kiss on my forehead before moving back to my side, squeezing my fingers in his.
Though I was still nervous, Yunho’s presence beside me provided a sense of security I knew I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Lucky for me, he didn’t scare easily. The line ahead of us shortened, those menacing skeletons appearing even larger the closer we came to them. Yunho’s phone chimed, my boyfriend checking the incoming message as we moved forward again, now only a single group away from the entrance.
“San said he and Woo are about thirty minutes away. Should give us plenty of time to get through here and then go check out a couple of booths.”
“Next!”
Yunho took my hand, knowing I would be too chicken to go in first. Hell, I was debating on just hightailing it the other direction anyway. I fought back that urge, dragging my feet behind my overly excited significant other as we stepped through the shroud of fog obscuring the entrance. I was momentarily blinded in its thickness, the sickly-sweet scent of the artificial mist tickling my nose before we were past it. Grey replaced with obnoxiously bright red lights that didn’t do shit for illuminating anything except objects two feet away from you. My only saving grace was Yunho’s hand still firmly grasping mine.
“Whoa, look at this!” He beamed, his voice carrying a little too well in the oddly silent attraction.
He pulled me behind him, finding everything within his vicinity intriguing while I was trying my damnedest to keep my eyes from staring too hard at the fake skulls carved into the fake stone walls.
Creepy.
I turned my attention to Yunho, his face entirely too close to a plaque stationed in front of some kind of metal contraption as he tried to read it.
“It says it’s a medieval torture device used to crush people.”
Both my eyebrows went up as my eyes slid back towards the thing. Though that sounded awful, there was a semi-morbid curiosity in me about how it worked.
“How?”
Yunho hummed, reading a bit further.
“They would make someone crouch underneath it and then use a screw to tighten over a hinge that would crush them down until their ribs broke or their spines cracked.”
I shivered, waving away the thought as the visual made me cringe.
“Ugh, forget I asked.”
Yunho gave me an amused grin, throwing his arm around my shoulders as we continued through the exhibit.
“What? You don’t find this kind of stuff interesting?”
“I find it disturbing. It’s one thing hearing about this kind of stuff, it’s another seeing it in front of you.”
I scrunched my nose as we passed by another roped off torture device. This one supplied with mannequins to demonstrate how it was used. The lights above us seemed to thin out as we continued. Sections of the pathway pitch black between exhibits that I couldn’t help but notice any time Yunho would stop to inspect a certain torture device. At some point my nerves started to get the better of me. We hadn’t run into any other people. Not the group that had gone ahead of us, and no one had managed to catch up to us despite it seeming like Yunho was taking his sweet time.
Still, goosebumps plagued my skin with that unmistakable feeling someone was watching us. I crossed my arms as I stood behind my oblivious boyfriend, rubbing away the pebbled flesh as I cast a wary gaze around us. I looked ahead to where the attraction would take us next, noting how dark the corridor was until the faint red light just beyond a corner barely cast its glow around the bend. So faint, in fact, that I almost missed the looming figure half hidden behind the wall. I stared, fear spiking as my brain desperately tried to process whether the large shadow was part of the attraction or a real person. I was even beginning to believe it to be another mannequin until it slinked further behind the wall, almost as if it were beckoning me. I sucked in a sharp breath, fear having me plaster myself to Yunho’s back as I placed him between me and the sinister shadow.
“What’s wrong?” Yunho’s voice sounded too loud in the silent room, his worried gaze landing on me.
“There was a person over there.” I half-whispered.
Yunho turned, peering through the darkness to where I pointed. Much to my dismay, the figure was gone.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“I swear, Yunho. They moved. I thought you said no one would try to scare us in here?”
“They’re not supposed to.” He frowned. “Maybe it’s someone from the group before us.”
“If it was, then why wouldn’t we have heard them?”
He shrugged, taking a step forward. “I’ll go see.”
I grabbed his hand before he could take another step, looking up at him as if he were an idiot.
“And leave me here by myself?”
“Then come with me.”
“I literally just told you some strange person was standing there. In the dark. Staring at us. Who in their right mind would go look for them?”
“We have to go that way to get out anyway.” He drawled; acting way too unconcerned for my liking. “Babe, it’s a haunted festival. Scaring the visitors is kinda the point. They won’t actually hurt you.”
Deep down, I knew he was right. That logic was the only reason I reluctantly shuffled after him, keeping a tight grip onto the back of his shirt as he approached the corner. He stopped just far enough away to lean forward and peek around it. I unknowingly held my breath until a small laugh huffed out of him and he stepped out.
“There’s no one here.”
“What?”
I released him, peering around his tall frame to scan the red-lit hall before us. Not a soul in sight. Actually, I could see the exit just at the other end. I sighed heavily, tension leaving me as I let my shoulders drop and my embarrassment seep in. Yunho looked down at me, laying his large palm over the top of my head as a genuine smile lifted his lips.
“It’s okay. I know you’re scared.”
I gave him a half-hearted glare, finding a new bit of confidence in myself under his teasing as I turned my nose up and continued through the dim hallway. He laughed at my actions, taking two long strides to catch up to me and wrap his arms around my waist.
“I’m just kidding, babe. You’re cute when you’re scared.”
“Whatever. Take me to get candles.” I demanded him, feeling a lot more relieved once we were out of there and I could hear the vivacious sounds of the festival around us again.
“Okay. I’m buying. How many do you want?” He asked taking my hand.
“As many as I deem fit for the trauma I’ll endure tonight.”
“Yunho!”
I looked up from what was about to be the fifth candle selection of the evening that Yunho had promised me when the call of his name caught my attention. The man himself turned from his own browsing section, face absolutely beaming as he found the culprit. A man much smaller than him in stature flew into him, giving him a hug I could only describe as one would give a dear friend or loved one after not having seen them in months, possibly years. The first thing I noticed apart from the fact that he was practically swallowed by my boyfriend was his hair. It was an interesting shade of black and blonde, the lighter color almost completely covered by the black overtop except for a few strands that framed his face and the few pieces at his nape. The only indication of the blonde apart from that being when bits and pieces of it broke through the dark top shade. A peculiar look, but it suited him. Though I’d heard many stories of Yunho’s friends, it never occurred to me to ask what they looked like. I suppose it shouldn’t have come as a shock that his friends were just as attractive as he was, that thought further solidified when another, broader gentleman approached the two, much wider than Yunho, though not as tall.
The newcomer took his turn hugging him, the three of them looking ecstatic to see one another. Slowly, I abandoned my shelf, giving a polite smile as Yunho’s eyes met mine and he waved me over the rest of the way.
“San, Woo, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N these are the guys I tell you about all the time. Wooyoung.” He motioned towards the one with the Oreo hairdo. “And San.” He finished, pointing out the broad-shouldered male.
San was the first to return greetings, holding out a thick arm for me to take the hand he offered. A couple of loose strands of his bangs brushed across his eyebrows from where they had fallen out of his slicked back style, a devastatingly handsome smile with perfectly straight, white teeth taking over his features.
“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Awkwardly, I shifted the armful of candles I was carrying to free a hand. Unsuccessfully might I add until Yunho came to put me out of my misery and taking a few of them away from me. I tossed him a silently grateful look before turning back to San.
“Likewise.” I grinned, feeling more at ease with his friendly nature as I took his hand.
The point of contact was quickly redirected as the other male I had yet to officially meet weaseled his way between us. Giving me a charming smile and wink as he shouldered San out of the way.
“Jung Wooyoung. Feel free to call me Woo.”
San rolled his eyes, looking as if this wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time he’d witness his friend flirting. Still, he was as friendly as his counterpart, and I was grateful for that as I took his hand.
“Alright, Woo. She’s not some random girl you need to lay it on so thick for.” Yunho chuckled, shaking his head.
“I’m just being nice.” He defended himself.
“Sure.” Yunho hummed, not seeming to believe him in the slightest.
“Besides, what would you need her for when you’ve got me here?” San teased, leaning towards the smaller man with puckered lips.
Wooyoung dodged the physical affection as if he wholly expected it, giving San an unimpressed glare.
“The only reason I invited you was because the girl I was going to bring canceled on me.”
“Again?” Yunho inquired, brow raising in question.
“It’s not my fault they seem to have a complex when it comes to how attractive I am.” Wooyoung shrugs as if his looks were simply God-given.
Which, I suppose, they were. People didn’t possess the type of beauty he had unless they were born with it. I could see him giving any woman a run for their money.
“Yeah, it’s your looks. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that you pull more men than they do.” San scoffed.
“The way I see it, if I swing both ways, I’m doubling my chances.”
I bit my lip to hide my amusement. The two of them were funny. Just as easygoing as Yunho had portrayed them to be and all my previous concerns about whether or not I would like them, or more likely, whether they would like me, faded. A gentle bump against my shoulder pulled my attention away from the bickering duo, my eyes finding the gentle softness of Yunho’s as he tilted his head towards my candle haul.
“Wanna keep looking or should we pay for these?”
“Oh, I’m done.”
“Let me help.” San offered, taking the last of my jars and raising one of them to his nose for a sniff. “This one smells really good.”
“Thank you. I actually made that one.”
“Wait. You can make a candle here?” Wooyoung asked, excitement lacing his tone.
“Yeah, there’s a bar filled with different scents over there.” I told him, nodding towards the shelf of empty jars and the nearby table filled with various wax beads.
“Alright. We’re not leaving until I try this.” Wooyoung announced, grabbing my wrist and leading me over. “Show me what I’m doing.”
Behind me, I could hear the sigh San let loose, plopping himself down on a nearby bench barely perched outside the front of the small shop.
“Might as well get comfortable.” He mumbled to Yunho, making room for him on the bench. “We’ll be here a while.”
“I think that deserves a snack and a trip to the Deadlands.” San suggested, loading the last box of Wooyoung’s candle haul into the back of their car.
“Deadlands?” I parroted, looking to Yunho.
He smiled sheepishly. “Deadlands is one of their most popular haunted attractions. It’s separate from the main festival, so you have to take a bus to get there.”
“Designed specifically for those who want more than PG13 scares.” Wooyoung tacked on in a spooky undertone.
“I was going to talk to you about it. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Yunho reassured me upon seeing my hesitation.
“N-no.” I quickly backpedaled, returning his sentiment. “I mean, we drove all the way here. You guys should get the full experience.”
Even as I said it, I didn’t quite believe myself. San and Wooyoung looked thrilled, and while Yunho looked at me worriedly, I didn’t miss the flash of excitement in his own chocolate orbs.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged, attempting to play it off as if the thought of traipsing through a portion of the haunted festival that was supposedly scarier than where we already were didn’t bother me. “How bad could it be?”
Nope. Not bothered in the slightest. Though I was nervous about going to the Deadlands, the way San and Wooyoung started talking about all the creepy stories they’d heard from friends or seen on social media made me believe that I had made the right choice in not taking their fun away. The two took off ahead of Yunho and I, leaving us to trail behind them a bit slower. Yunho’s hand found mine, fingers intertwining together as he landed a grateful kiss on my hair.
“I know you hate stuff like this, but I appreciate you willing to put up with it for me.”
“You can make it up to me by preemptively finding me something delicious to eat.”
For as much as running around a haunted festival sucked, the food was damn good. Something about fried fair food always left me feeling satisfied. The alternating chicken-on-a-stick and fried pickles I was sharing with Yunho was no different while we waited in line to get our tickets for the Deadlands.
“It shows there’s a maze that you’ll have to navigate to even get into the Deadlands first.” Wooyoung had his nose half buried into a map he had procured while the rest of us waited in line for food earlier. “Then there’s a haunted trail, haunted house, and a few interactive haunts. Plus, a couple of shows.”
“Shows?” I murmured, intrigued even as Yunho pinched off another fried pickle and fed it to me. “Those sound like they might be fun.”
I returned the favor, tearing off another piece of chicken to feed it to him.
“We’re at least going through one of the interactive haunts. I’ve seen those online and I haven’t been able to try one before.” San mumbled around a mouth full of corndog.
“I second that.” Yunho nodded.
“What’s the difference between a regular haunted house and an interactive one?”
“An interactive haunt is kind of like a haunted escape room. You have to solve riddles or puzzles or something to progress.” San explained.
“Yeah, it’s more fun than just speed running through a one-way path and having people jump out at you.”
I didn’t agree, but I digress. I tuned out the rest of their conversation while I finished my food. Offering the last bit of chicken to Yunho who absentmindedly accepted it while arguing about which interactive theme would be better if they could only do one. I took his trash from him, momentarily ditching the group to throw it away. Somehow, I managed to find a hole to shove our trash into in the overflowing bin, nearly dipping my hand into the ketchup on someone else’s plate. I cringed, double checking my hand before dropping it again after being certain it was ketchup free. I looked up, surveying the crowd around me only to stop on a particular figure ducking behind the fence surrounding the haunted hayride. Though it was too quick to see any specifics, the way my skin crawled told me he was familiar. Familiar as in, he would have fit the height and build of whoever was spying on Yunho and me in the medieval torture chambers.
That realization sent shivers down my spine. I turned to rejoin the group, barreling into someone. I gasped, heart still racing even as I met Yunho’s confused gaze.
“Hey, you alright?”
“Yeah, I just…” My answer came out a bit breathless as I cast another look over my shoulder. “Thought I saw someone.”
Yunho scanned the mass of people behind me as Wooyoung and San came up behind him.
“Someone you know?”
“It was no one. Did you get the tickets?”
Over his shoulder, San held up a handful of red paper.
“Four passes. Next bus leaves in 15 minutes.”
“Let’s get going then.” I plastered on a smile, taking Yunho’s hand.
The trek through the park in search of the line for the Deadlands transport bus was longer than I expected it to be. Not only because of how crowded it was, but the festival grounds were spread out with enough room that none of the attractions’ lines would interfere with one another. Despite that contingency, the number of bodies waiting for the Deadlands threatened to overcome that obstacle anyway. San and Wooyoung jumped in line immediately, leaving Yunho and I to bring up the rear together once again. I peered around the people in front of us, calculating the distance between us and the front of the line.
“We might be waiting a while.” Yunho mused, able to look over the tops of everyone’s heads unlike me.
“Yeah.” I agreed quietly. “I think I might go to the bathroom before we board.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine. You guys can hold our places in line.”
Yunho opened his mouth, presumably to tell me that the other two could hold our places in his stead, until Wooyoung interrupted him.
“I’ll go with her. I need a bathroom break myself.”
Knowing at least one of them would be going with me seemed to settle Yunho some.
“Okay.” He agreed, reaching into his pocket to grab one of the tickets San had handed him earlier. “Take your ticket just in case we make it on before you get back.”
“We’ll be quick.” I promised him, taking my pass and stretching on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Don’t miss me too much.”
He chuckled, planting a swift kiss on my lips.
“You know I will. Hurry back.”
Wooyoung ducked under the thick rope caging in the Deadlands’ patrons, holding it up for me to follow. I slipped under it, my need to relieve myself hitting me full force now that my body knew I was looking for a bathroom.
“Any idea where the nearest restroom is?”
“Nope.” Wooyoung chuckled. “I know I saw one back the way we came. I figured we’d head for that one.”
“Lead the way.”
The subtle vibration in my pockets caught my attention. My eyes scanning the line ahead for the bathroom as I fished it out. I groaned in annoyance, realizing I wouldn’t be moving any time soon. Glancing down, I found a text from Yunho telling me they were boarding the bus.
“Shit.”
I ducked out of the line, texting Yunho to wait as I scanned the area for Wooyoung. He strolled from around the other side of the building where the men’s rooms were located, giving me an easygoing smile as he approached before glancing between me and the ridiculously long line outside the women’s room.
“Did you already go?”
“No. Yunho just texted me saying they already got on the bus.”
He frowned, patting his pockets for his phone before finding it and checking his notifications.
“Yeah, San just sent me the same message. No big deal, we can find them later. For now, let’s search for another bathroom.”
I worried my bottom lip, tempted to nix his idea and hold it in favor of getting back to Yunho and San as quickly as possible. Wooyoung gave me a soft smile, clearly trying to ease my worries.
“Don’t stress too much, Y/N, we’ll catch the next bus and meet up with them.” Wooyoung reassured me.
Trying to shake the bit of anxiety being by myself in a place like this instilled in me, I nodded, giving Wooyoung a half-hearted smile.
“You’re right.”
“I think there was a map over by the tractor ride. Let’s see if it shows the next nearest restrooms.”
I followed Wooyoung closely, trusting that he had a better sense of direction in the crowded park than I would. It was definitely getting busier in the later hour. The narrow paths from ride to ride and even the little booths selling foods or trinkets having lines of people building outside of them. I startled as a festival worker dressed as a masked chainsaw wielder jumped out at a nearby group of young girls revving his weapon of choice, their shrieks piercing my ears and making my heart lodge in my throat. I exhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing pulse. While I normally wouldn’t consider myself easy to scare, something about being in an environment where I knew the goal was to scare me, put me on edge and rather than anticipating every jump scare, I just became paranoid.
It felt like there were eyes on me constantly. My skin prickling with the ominous sensation. I wrapped my arms around myself, quickly scanning the mass of people in front of me for Wooyoung. He was a little difficult to find in the low lighting, relief flooding me as I found the map he had mentioned earlier, and a familiar head of Oreo shaded hair standing in front of it. I took several quick steps his direction, my pace slowly faltering as I noticed the strange figure standing just beyond the board, half hidden between two game booths. He was unusually still for the bustle of activity around him, his face obscured by the Ghostface mask he wore, and though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could feel them. It was easier to see him in this lighting. He was tall, easily a whole head overtop the rest of the people around him, a black leather jacket stretched over his wide shoulders and broad chest, leading down to a thin waist and thick thighs clothed with a pair of black jeans.
It was him. The one who was in the torture chambers with Yunho and me. If anyone had asked me to prove it, I couldn’t beyond the sickening hole of dread blooming in my gut. He looked every bit like the other actors roaming around the expanse of festival grounds, but the fact that he didn’t actively try to scare anyone, and instead just stood there, staring, left me a bit unsettled. I quickly looked away, crossing the bit of remaining distance to Wooyoung just as he turned to look for me.
“Hey, so I think this is going to be the nearest set of bathrooms.” He said, pointing to the little sign depicting men’s and women’s restrooms on the map.
It just so happened to be somewhat removed from everything else. The nearest attraction being the bus we would be needing to catch to meet back up with Yunho and San.
“I think the chances of there being a line is slim too. I’m not sure how many people will be in that direction, but it’ll also be close to the ride for the Deadlands, so we can jump on the bus right after.”
“Sounds like it’s our best bet then.” I agreed, glad that our group wouldn’t be separated for much longer.
“Cool. Let’s go.”
Wooyoung took one last glance at the map, memorizing which way we needed to go before heading out. I made to follow him, my eyes unconsciously looking over to where I had last seen the masked figure watching us only to find him gone…
In a small miracle, the bathroom was mostly empty. It was plenty removed from the bustling rest of the grounds, only a couple of younger women seeming to occupy the dingy restroom when I entered. I gave them a polite smile, skirting my way past them for one of the empty stalls as they stood in front of the mirrors touching up their makeup.
“Did you get tickets for the Deadlands?” One of the girls asked as I closed myself in.
“Yeah.” The other girl replied, sighing heavily. “I don’t even know why you’re so excited for this. Running around a haunted field where people are allowed to grab you doesn’t sound like a good time.”
“Literally everyone talks about how good it is. Besides, if you don’t want anyone to touch you, don’t wear your glowstick, simple as that.” I listened silently as they both gathered their stuff. “It’s Halloween. The entire purpose of this holiday is the spooks.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I want someone to touch me.”
I frowned as they left, the bathroom settling into an eerie silence after they were gone. I reflected on their conversation, not remembering Yunho saying anything about people being able to touch or grab me in the Deadlands. A bit put off, I fished through my pockets for my phone, tapping the screen to open my message thread with Yunho.
Me: Do people really grab you in the Deadlands?
The chime of my phone sounded a lot louder in the small, vacant building.
Yunho: They can, but only if you’re wearing a glowstick. They’ll give you one when you sign the waiver and board the bus.
Waiver? What kind of haunted trail was this? Just as I was about to reply, the bathroom door swung open heavily, slamming against the concrete wall loudly. I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. Ugh, I had to stop scaring so easily. Letting loose an exasperated sigh, I made to finish my business. Heavy footsteps echoed in the quiet room, crossing the short distance between the door and the stalls. I listened to them get closer until I could see the tips of the boots from under the stall door. They stopped directly in front of the stall I was in, standing there. I stared at them, feeling weirded out the longer they lingered. Suddenly, the door shook against its latch as whoever it was pushed against it. I threw my hand against the door, a minor effort to keep it closed should the lock fail me in some way.
“Excuse me, someone’s in here!”
The rattling stopped; the room once again plunged into silence except for my slightly elevated breathing. The stranger loitered for another couple of seconds before the pair of boots turned and headed into the stall next to mine. More than a little unsettled, I dropped my hand on the door, quickly pulling up my underwear and shorts. I pocketed my phone and flushed, looking down to button up my bottoms. A soft breeze ruffled my hair, brushing some of it into my face. I reached up, running my hand through the errant strands when I bumped something with my fingers. Confused, I glanced up, a scream lodging itself in my throat upon seeing the hand reaching over the top of the stall, long, shapely fingers tangled in my hair. I threw myself against the opposite wall, the scream finally making its way up my throat in my horror. I fumbled with the lock, my panic increasing ten-fold when the hand ducked back behind the wall. Quickly, I unlatched the door, throwing it open and not sparing another glance behind me as I bolted out of there.
I sprinted around the side of the small building, another scream ripping its way out of me as I collided with another body. My panic-stricken gaze met Wooyoung’s his brows furrowing in concern as he stared down at me.
“Whoa, Y/N, are you okay?”
I grasped onto him, my fearful eyes shifting from him, back behind me as I half expected the creep to come around the corner.
“No.” I forced out on an exhale. “There was someone else in the bathroom.”
“Okay…?”
“A man. H-he touched me.” I started hyperventilating, my hand coming up to touch my head where his had been.
“What?” Wooyoung frowned, casting a look over my shoulder. “Stay here.”
“No! Don’t go in there!” I begged him, grabbing hold of his arm as he made to pass me.
Wooyoung shushed me, as if he were trying to comfort me.
“It’s okay. I’m just going to take a quick look.”
“What if he’s still in there?”
“Then I can get a description and report him to security.”
I chewed my lip as Wooyoung extracted himself from my grip. He crossed the short distance to round the building, a sense of déjà vu seizing me when he peered around the corner much like Yunho had back at the chambers. The second Wooyoung disappeared around the building, my feet kicked into high gear, refusing to let me wait out here alone. He’d already made it to the door by the time I caught up, his hand slowly pushing it open, the rusted hinges creaking with every inch. Over his shoulder, I could see that the immediate vicinity was void of people, but that wasn’t where I saw him last. A foreboding panic consumed me as I moved my eyes towards the stall he’d been in.
As much as I wished I was brave enough to go open the door, I wasn’t, instead I ducked my head down, scouring the floor for any signs of his boots that I probably wouldn’t forget in my nightmares any time soon. Seeing nothing, I straightened again, looking to Wooyoung cautiously as he approached the first stall and shoved the door open.
Empty.
He moved to the second one, glancing at me over his shoulder as if to confirm this was the one he’d been in. I nodded, holding my breath, my body shamelessly tensed to run the second he opened it if I had to. In a quick motion, Wooyoung slammed the second stall open, his shoulders dropping in relief when it was empty. I couldn’t blame him. Part of me was also relieved that whoever was in here wasn’t anymore, but another part of me was frustrated as Wooyoung turned back to me with a half-hearted chuckle.
“Someone else was in here. I swear.”
“I believe you.” He reassured me, coming back over to me to lay his hands over my shoulders. “He’s gone now though. Nothing to worry about.”
I wanted to argue, but I bit my tongue against it. Not like it would really do me any good anyway. Wooyoung didn’t doubt that some random dude had snuck in and grabbed me, but I didn’t even get a look at whoever it was, and he was gone without a trace now. No one in sight and nothing concrete to report. Taking in a deep breath and releasing it on a slow exhale, I forced myself to calm down.
“Right…” I sighed, voluntarily leaching the tight knot of anxiety coiled within me. “Let’s just get to the Deadlands.”
The transfer of pass to waiver felt tremendously heavy. Even more so as I signed my name and gave it back to the creepy ass grim reaper manning the liability table. He took it, reaching out a grossly decrepit skeletal hand with a glowstick balanced in his palm in trade. I wanted to reject it; tell him I most definitely wouldn’t be needing it. But there was probably no merit in it, so I took it, giving him a watery smile as I moved on. Wooyoung stood patiently in front of the bus doors, sweeping an arm for me to board first. My feet were unusually heavy as I climbed the steps, my nose immediately assaulted with the scent of fake blood and heavily spraypainted walls. The seats had seen better days, some of them shredded at the seams, seat stuffing spilling from them. I took the first available seat I could find, grateful to have Wooyoung right behind me to claim the aisle seat. I glanced out the window, only to be disappointed with the black paint coating every inch of it.
Guess there will be no sightseeing on this bus.
The lights above our heads burned white, bright enough to illuminate the surmountable dust swirling in the air as people plopped into their seats. The last of the visitors boarded, two men in football jerseys who took the seat directly in front of Wooyoung and me. After them, another man boarded dressed as some sort of demented butcher with copious amount of blood adorning his apron. He chucked his meat cleaver into one of the seats up front, scanning the crowd with a watchful eye. I could practically feel the excitement seeping from Wooyoung, not even bothering to conceal his grin while I was quite honestly, seconds away from shitting my pants.
“This is the bus to the Deadlands!” The butcher’s voice shook the walls of the bus to be heard over the chatter of occupants. “Last chance for anyone to get off. There’s no turning around once those doors close.”
When no one moved, he took that as his answer. Retrieving his meat cleaver and taking the driver’s seat. The sudden slam of the bus doors made me jump, my poor heart feeling as if it was ready to beat out of my chest. My nails dug into the fraying seat under me as the bus lurched, pulling away from the rest of the Hell Festival and safety.
The ride over was the roughest bus ride I’d ever been on as we hit another pothole, and I tried to keep myself from being launched into my seatmate’s lap. Wooyoung laughed, enjoying the entire experience as I tried to right myself for the hundredth time.
“Does he have to hit every fucking pothole?” I grumbled, my fear giving away to frustration.
“It’s probably in his job description.” Wooyoung grinned.
He took out his glowstick, breaking it and giving it a couple of shakes before slipping the necklace over his head. The yellow glow appeared more ominous than usual. Then again, it was probably because of what it signified.
“Need me to break yours?”
“Uh no. I’m not wearing mine.”
“No? You scared?” He teased.
“Yes. I’m not some adrenaline junkie who needs to get off on someone nabbing me out there. I’m perfectly capable of pissing my pants without it.”
Wooyoung tossed his head back, the cackle leaving him making an involuntarily smirk hike one corner of my lips.
“Fair enough.”
I threw an arm out to catch myself on the seat in front of us to keep me from being thrown into the floorboard as the driver braked. Hard.
“Final destination. Everyone off!” He barked, wrenching the doors open.
“Here we go.” Wooyoung whispered, standing in the aisle to block people long enough for me to exit ahead of him.
The first glimpse I got of the maze we would be expected to clear to enter the remainder of the Deadlands made my stomach sink. It was bigger than I expected and dark as shit. Little equipment lights served as the only source of light and there weren’t very many of them. Most people didn’t even hesitate, some even ran into the maze in their haste to get to the Deadlands. Mentally, I checked them all off as the first people to most likely die in any horror movie. Although anyone who would was willing to go in there in the first place probably deserved to be offed. Me included.
I reminded myself that Yunho was here somewhere. If I were going to find him, I’d have to go in. With one last look over my shoulder to confirm Wooyoung was with me, I headed for the entrance, but I sure as hell didn’t run in. Apart from the lights stationed every so often, the faint glow of people’s glowsticks did an okay job of lighting the way. Behind me, Wooyoung’s at least illuminated enough of the dirt path beneath him that he could watch where he was stepping. I considered breaking mine just to have that luxury but quickly decided against it. I paused as we came to a split in the path, Wooyoung’s feet stopping beside mine as we surveyed the two directions.
“Any idea which way we need to be heading?”
“Not a clue.”
“Great.” I mumbled, swallowing my panic as ear piercing screams ran throughout the cornfield.
Heading in their direction was the last thing I wanted to do, but there was a good chance that going towards them would lead to an exit. Wooyoung remained a couple of steps behind me and, honestly, I was thankful for it. As scary as it was going first, at least I didn’t have to worry about someone sneaking up on me. The corn in front of us was getting thicker, I couldn’t even see the occasional flash of yellow from other visitors anymore. Frustrated, I fished in my pocket for my phone, unlocking it to turn on my flashlight. The light blinked on at the same time a quiet grunt filled the silence behind me. I turned, thinking Wooyoung had tripped over one of the fallen stalks only to freeze when realizing he was no longer there.
“Wooyoung?”
The rustle of cornstalks around me set me on edge, my eyes and flashlight scanning the walls of corn. The rustling moved further away from me, my feet trying to follow it against my better judgement. Before I could take a step out of the path, a bloodcurdling scream rooted me to my spot. My breathing spiked, panicking as another scream ripped through the quiet darkness, one that certainly didn’t sound like it was in good fun.
“Wooyoung!?” I called for him again, fear tinging my voice.
The returning silence put me on edge as I stood there like a deer locked in headlights. My hand holding my phone trembled, frantically scanning the area around me. Suddenly, the rustling was back, my phone whipping towards the movement. This time, however, it was coming closer, heading right for me. Some of the stalks snapping as who, or whatever, beelined it for me straight through them. Something inside told me this was definitely not Wooyoung. I turned, sprinting in the opposite direction, fear overcoming me as whatever it was chased me. I grunted as I ran past row after row of corn, leaves from the stalks whipping me in the face. I pushed them away blindly, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling with the feeling that whoever was behind me, was seconds away from catching me.
I pushed myself harder, scream lodging in my throat as it burned with every breath I took.
That creeping feeling burned my nape, my mind thinking back on the grotesque fingers of the reaper before we boarded the bus. My imagination driving my feet faster as I envisioned those fingers seconds away from grabbing me. Over my panting breaths, the sounds of the Deadlands were getting louder. I burst into another clearing, the trail splitting off again in multiple directions. The tops of the stalks were lit with the lights from the rest of the grounds. I sprinted for them, not even caring about sticking to the trails anymore as I barreled through row after row of corn, my feet sinking into the soft, tilled earth. I grunted, forcing myself forward, the sounds behind me getting closer as I shoved myself through the last of the walls. I stumbled into the Deadlands, nearly running into a nearby group of people who were passing by.
They startled, looking at me like I was crazy as I panted, whipping around to see if I was still being followed. But the corn was still. I swallowed, my gut churning like I was about to vomit from how hard I’d been running. My knees were like jello and my hands shook, one of them still gripping my phone like it was my lifeline.
“Y/N?”
I jerked my head around, Yunho’s towering figure bringing me overwhelming relief as he pushed through the crowd of people to get to me. I ran for him, slamming into his chest as I desperately held onto him.
“Are you alright? What happened?”
“S-someone was chasing me.”
I looked back towards the exit of the maze at the same moment the two guys in football jerseys emerged. The two laughing like maniacs. Yunho wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tightly. San appeared behind Yunho, glancing between me and the maze.
“Where’s Woo?”
“Um, we got separated. I don’t know.”
Frowning, San pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.
“You okay?”
I looked up at Yunho, willing my heart to beat at a normal rate as the threat of danger dissipated. I took a couple of leveling breaths, slowly nodding.
“I will be. Sorry. I feel so dumb.”
A part of me knew it wasn’t those two jocks that were chasing me though. Call it a sixth sense or whatnot, but I was almost positive on that fact.
“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”
“No, but I did lose Wooyoung.”
“That isn’t your fault.”
“He’s not answering.” San mumbled, pulling his phone from his ear. “He probably found some new piece of ass to chase.”
“Want to wait for him to come out?”
“Nah, I’ll text him and let him know where we’re going. It’s not the first time he’s pulled this shit. We’ll be lucky if we see him again tonight.”
San snapped his glowstick, slipping it over his head. I looked at it, remembering that Wooyoung had put his on right before we went into the maze. Maybe someone intentionally dragged him off since he was wearing his. Yunho did say it might happen. My boyfriend retrieved his from his pocket, sliding it on as San gave us both a wide smile.
“Haunted house?”
This line seemed longer than the line to get to the Deadlands to begin with. If that were even possible. It was definitely getting later into the night if the way my eyes were beginning to feel heavy was any indication. Not even the nap I had taken in the car on the way here curbed my exhaustion.
Then again, maybe it was the full-on fucking marathon I’d done in the corn maze earlier.
I bit back a yawn, hoping it would go unnoticed.
“I’m telling you; the Deadly Dollhouse is where we should go.” Yunho tried convincing San, for probably the twentieth time since we’d gotten in line.
“Carnival Creepers would be so much cooler though. I’ve heard it’s their best interactive haunt ever.”
The two of them were comparing the list of interactive haunted houses the Deadlands offered, and neither of them could come to a decision.
“Y/N, which one do you want to try?”
I blinked, coming back to their debate, both their gazes trained on me in the hopes I’d pick their choice.
“Oh, uh… that’s up to you two. I’m going to sit out the interactive stuff.”
San pouted. “You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s not really my kind of thing.”
“Well, you can still be the deciding vote.” Yunho grinned, handing me his phone so I could see the options.
I had to give them both credit. Both options were as equally creepy if the pictures posted did the haunt any justice. I scrolled through them, humming as I couldn’t decide either.
“San said he hasn’t been through one before, so you two should do that one.”
San gave a silent fist bump while Yunho turned those big brown puppy dog eyes on me.
“Stop.” I scolded him, fighting to keep the smile off my lips. “I’m not changing my mind.”
Before he could do anymore damage, the gate in front of us opened, the house worker ushering us through. Maybe “house” wasn’t a correct term. It was set up as more of a trail, the haunt itself open to the outside elements where fences and wood panels lining the sides of the path kept you moving in the right direction. San took the lead, leaving me in the middle and Yunho bringing up the rear. Lights flashed around us, the strobes having their intended effect, blinding me with every flash as I tried to sense any oncoming danger. No such luck as one of the actors threw themselves against the fence, wrenching a scream out of me as he thrust a bloody arm towards me.
Yunho laughed, pulling me closer to him and out of his reach. I booked the best I could out of there, Yunho hot on my heels as I tried to keep up with San. The next section opened up into a junkyard of sorts. Old, rusting vehicles scattered all over the place, grass overgrown minus the well-kept trail we were meant to stay on. I could feel that familiar tingling on my nape, my body tensing as I readied myself for another scare.
I was not disappointed.
The obnoxious revving was my first sign before a massive man burst out from behind one of the vehicles, smoke billowing from his chainsaw as he sprinted for us. I screamed, running into San in my haste to get away. San turned, seeing him and hightailed it out of the junkyard. I followed him, stumbling through the creepy ass tunnel of webs to get to the next section. I panted, scanning the area around us, my skin crawling seeing the weird, webbed nests and burrows. I turned around to check on Yunho, but he wasn’t there.
“Fuck me.” I muttered under my breath as I stalled, waiting for Yunho to pop out of the tunnel. “San, wai-“
I called for him, but when I looked ahead of me, he was also gone. This time, my cursing went unvocalized. I waited another 30 seconds or so, but no sign of Yunho. I chewed on my lip, not wanting to just leave him behind, but I really didn’t want to fucking be in this haunted trail by myself for much longer. Deciding it would be better to wait for him outside rather than in the middle of the damn thing, I continued on, silently hoping I’d meet up with San again. I picked up my pace through the creepy crawlers’ section, swatting away the fake spiders as they dropped from the trees above me. I powered through another tunnel, pushing through the black tarp at the end and nearly losing the snacks Yunho had bought me earlier.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Slabs of meat dangled in the path ahead of me. Fake meat. Or, at least, I really hoped so. I let out a disgusted sound, batting the first one out of the way as I carefully maneuvered my way around them. Fog swirled around my feet, giving the illusion of a cold meat locker of some sort. A sudden scream nearly stopped my heart, my head jerking up to survey the trail ahead of me. It was dark, but illuminated enough that I could tell nothing was in front of me for at least another thirty feet or so. Another scream pierced the air, goosebumps erupting across my skin as I desperately tried to pinpoint where it was coming from.
Hesitantly, I leaned towards one of the wooden panels separating this part of the haunt from the woods beyond. A girl fell out of the tree line, no doubt scraping her hands and knees as she scrambled to get up again. She had fallen in direct line of one of the red lights pointed to my section, her silhouette being the most I could make out as she looked behind her towards the trees.
The next person to step out made my breath catch. I recognized the Ghostface mask, the only part of him that the red light caught and bathed in the crimson shade as grabbed one of the girl’s ankles. She screamed as he dragged her back to him, his large figure dropping on top of her to prevent her escape. One gloved hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her voice and air as she struggled, clawing at his hold. Her struggle didn’t last long, he lifted his arm, the red glow glinting off the blade of his knife before he brought it down in one smooth stroke. Right between her ribs. The girl choked, one cough, then two before blood poured from her lips.
My face paled, the sight appearing all too real to me. Why the fuck would they stage a death there anyway? Unless someone was purposely looking like I was, no one would see it. Maybe I was just more freaked out because I recognized the masked male to begin with. It was definitely the same man that had been watching Wooyoung and I back at the main festival. Had he followed us here? The thought was a slightly off-putting one as I peeked back through the slats in the wood paneling. Ghostface ripped his knife from his victim, blood dripping from the end of it as he slowly raised his head from her to my exact location behind the makeshift fence. I backpedaled, right into one of the hanging slabs of meat. The blood coating it wiping across my cheek and hands as I beat it out of the way.
I hardly bothered trying to avoid the rest of them as I ran through the rest of the artificial meat freezer. I was beginning to seriously consider kicking Yunho’s ass for convincing me to come here. I didn’t even bother hanging around the rest of the haunted attraction, I ran through the next three sections, not even flinching as people jumped out at me. My feet carried me out as fast as they could, stopping only when I made it back to the crowded Deadlands. I bent over, that nauseous feeling from earlier coming back as I tried to catch my breath.
“There she is.”
I looked up at the sound of Yunho’s voice, my frightened gaze turning to daggers as I laid my sights on him.
“Jeong Yunho. Where the hell did you go?”
He looked at me sheepishly, holding his hands up in surrender.
“They separated me from the two of you. I was forced to go another way.”
Fucking glowsticks.
I straightened, swallowing down the bit of nausea as both he and San walked over to me.
“Sorry Y/N, I thought you were right behind me.” San apologized, looking every bit as regretful as Yunho.
“It wasn’t your fault. I stopped to wait on Yunho.”
“Sorry babe.” Yunho hummed, pulling me into a hug and kissing my temple.
I debated whether to tell Yunho about what I saw back there, but ultimately decided to keep my mouth shut. He’d probably tell me what I already assumed. That it was staged, no doubt meant to look real to scare the shit out of people like me.
“If it wasn’t obvious before, I’m telling you now that I’m 100% sitting out the next haunted house.” I grumbled, already feeling better having my boyfriend with me.
“You’ve earned it.” Yunho chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with him to keep up with San.
“I don’t know how you guys handle this. I fear my heart can’t take much more.”
“I think everyone likes to be scared on some level.” San grinned. “It makes you feel alive. Gets the blood pumping you know?”
“I can think of a few other activities that can get blood pumping without the fear.” I purred suggestively, slipping one of my hands in the back of Yunho’s jean pocket.
“We’ll indulge in that too. Later.” He smirked.
“Eugh.” San scrunched his nose. “I get enough of that with Wooyoung, I don’t need to see it from you too.”
I laughed, moving my hand up to wrap around Yunho’s waist instead.
“Okay, we’ll keep our hands to ourselves when you’re looking.”
I looked ahead of San to where the circus interactive haunt was to take place under an improvised big top. The red and white striped tent painted with bloodied handprints, searchlights lighting up its immediate vicinity. It was creepy, my eyes scanning the crowd lined up out front only to halt as I once again recognized a masked figure I’d seen too many times for my liking tonight. I tensed realizing he was staring in our direction. Straight at me. Yunho noticed the change in my demeanor, his smile dropping as he followed my gaze to the stranger.
“Something wrong?”
Upon hearing the concern in Yunho’s tone, San turned around, glancing at him before his gaze dropped to me. Like Yunho, he tracked my gaze to Ghostface.
“I think that man’s been following me.”
“What?” Yunho and San said together, looking back to the large figure.
“I saw him, back at the main festival. I think he was also the one in the torture chambers earlier. And then again in the haunted house.”
“You’re sure it’s the same guy?” San asked for confirmation.
“I’m pretty sure.”
Before I could get another word out, or stop him, Yunho straightened to his full height, taking a step closer to the masked stranger.
“Hey, man, you’re starting to freak my girl out. Leave us alone.”
The figure didn’t move a muscle. He stood there, staring. Not even looking phased as San stepped forward this time.
“Hey, asshole. Go bother someone else before I kick your ass and then have it fired for harassment.”
“San!” I gaped, grabbing his arm to pull him back.
Despite the threat, the man didn’t move. He simply stared at us as if we were the only people around. It felt like a lifetime before anyone dared move. And upon seeing the knife slide down Ghostface’s sleeve into his hand, I had wished he hadn’t. My face went pale, flashbacks of that same knife covered in blood flickering across my vision. With one last lingering look, the man took one step back, then another, until the darkness surrounding a nearby haunt swallowed him. I wasn’t sure what I preferred, that he was still standing there, in plain sight where I at least knew where he was, or for him to be out of sight out of mind.
As much as a creepy, stalkerish, mask wearing weirdo could be out of sight, out of mind.
“What a fucking creep…” San muttered, turning back to us.
“Yeah, I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you out here by yourself now.” Yunho seconded, stepping a bit closer to me.
His eyes were filled with worry, flicking between me and the spot Ghostface had been standing mere moments ago, unease having him shift his weight from one foot to another. There was a glimmer of tenderness alighting within me that he was willing to stay with me, though it was overpowered by the potential guilt I would feel if he did.
“No, I’m okay. You two go ahead.”
Yunho shook his head. “I can stay out here with you, and we can wait for San together.”
“Yunho, I’m fine. I promise. You paid for the tickets; you might as well get your use out of one of them. I’m going to grab a bottle of water from one of the stands and wait here.”
He wanted to argue. I could see it in his eyes. Eventually, he sighed, casting a quick look toward the tent before coming back to me.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Go. Have fun.” I told them both, giving Yunho a gentle push towards the line.
I watched the two of them head for the line together. Yunho turning around to throw me hand heart that I returned before they ducked out of sight. I looked down at my hands, the blood on them making me cringe as I dropped them and scanned the area for either a bathroom or a booth selling water so I could clean up a bit before the boys returned.
I checked my phone for the third time in the past minute. San and Yunho had been in there for a while, and I was currently kicking myself for not checking who was around them in line to see whether they’d made it out yet or not. I guess the only thing that sucked about not going with them (apart from not being scared shitless) was not knowing how long the interactive haunt would take. Though I suppose it depended on how long it took them to figure it out. I had found a vacant bench near the exit; after cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I’d grabbed a bottle of water and occupied myself with my phone for the past fifteen minutes.
I could only scroll through social media for so long before becoming bored. At some point, I’d even started people watching. Actors and visitors alike while also keeping an eye out for Wooyoung who had yet to show up. If I had his number, I would have tried calling him myself. Another round of screams coming from the circus tent caught my attention, my head turning that way as a familiar head of blonde hair cut through the throng of people. I stood, waving so Yunho could find me.
“Hey, how was it?” I asked, his wide smile telling me all I needed to know before the words left him.
“Awesome. It took me longer than it probably should have since San and I got separated. Did he come out already?”
“I don’t know. If he did, I didn’t see him.”
We both scanned the crowd around us, Yunho shrugging.
“He can’t be too far behind me. Let’s wait a few more minutes.”
“Heard anything from Wooyoung?”
Yunho shook his head, taking a seat on the bench I had just been on before inviting me to join him.
“No, I’ll try calling him again.”
I kept a trained eye on the tent exit, watching for San while Yunho made his call. He dialed Wooyoung, bringing the phone to his ear before lowering it again and redialing a second later. He released a confused hum, lowering his phone again.
“Straight to voicemail.”
“Try San.” I suggested.
Yunho called him next, looking towards the exit as it rang. A frustrated huff left him as he pulled the phone away again.
“Also to voicemail.”
Just as he went to try calling again, his phone chimed. I leaned over, noticing the message notification before he clicked it open to see it was a text from San.
San: Found Woo. Not feeling well, we’ll head back early.
My frown matched Yunho’s. On one hand, I was relieved San had found Wooyoung, but on another I was worried about them. Yunho sighed, rubbing above his eyebrow as he typed a reply telling them not to worry about it and he’d see them tomorrow.
“I guess we’ll call it a night too?” He phrased it as a question, glancing over at me.
“Unless you want to traipse through another haunted house by yourself.” I smiled wryly, bumping his knee with mine.
“I think I’ll pass. Besides, I don’t think I’d mind turning in a bit early if it’s with you.”
I leaned into him, placing my chin on his shoulder as I whispered in his ear.
“Then let’s get out of here.”
“F-fuck Yunho…” I moaned into the sheets, clenching the fabric in my fists as he drilled into me.
“Yeah baby?” He panted, groaning at the clench of my walls around his cock. “Just this cock was worth the drive over huh?”
I gasped as his thrusts got harder, his thick length splitting me open, the slight bite of pain driving my desire higher like it always did no matter how many times he fucked me. His hand came down on my ass, the other palm pressing onto the small of my back, applying enough force to shove me harder into the mattress under him.
“God yes.” I wailed, my eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock pummeled that soft spot inside me.
My hair covered my face, obscuring my vision though it wasn’t as if I could focus on anything other than my boyfriend’s cock anyway. Vaguely, I hoped no one was unfortunate enough to find their motel room next to ours as the headboard banged into the wall noisily. The sound getting louder and more frequent as Yunho pounded into me to send me over that precipice of pleasure. My mouth opened on a pitiful gasp, air leaving me on a drawn out, pathetic cry as I came on his dick. Yunho huffed out a pleased chuckle as I fell apart under him, his hand coming down harshly over my rounded flesh again while he fucked me through my orgasm.
“That’s my slut.” He growled, pushing me to the point of overstimulation as he refused to let up. “Look how fucking filthy you are soaking my cock like this.”
I whined, knowing exactly what he was doing, tears dripping down my face and onto the sheets under me, staining the white material.
“Yu-“ I choked on his name, my battered pussy tightening around him again as the knot my lower abdomen pulled taut.
“Cum again baby.” He grunted, grabbing hold of my hip hard enough to leave bruises, bouncing my prone form back against him while his other hand slipped under me, skillful fingers spreading me open for him to torment my clit. “Cum with me.”
I sobbed, the pleasure too much as I squirmed to escape it. Yunho knew me too well though, his body trapping mine beneath him as he swapped to harsher, pointed thrusts, driving himself into me with intent. I released the sheet, blindly reaching for his wrist to hold onto. His hand found mine, pinning it to the small of my back as he released a low groan. My toes curled, my second orgasm rushing through me at breakneck speed as my walls tightened around Yunho again. Soft gasps left him as he tried to fuck me through it, prolonging my orgasm until it triggered his own. He quickly pulled out, his fist wrapping around his cock as his release painted the backs of my thighs and ass.
I slumped into the mattress, trying to catch my breath while Yunho coaxed the last of his cum from his cock, delivering another sharp slap to my ass afterwards that elicited a whimper from me. Gently, he eased me from my position, turning me over so he could pepper kisses all over my cheeks and nose. The complete 180 was something I was used to by now. My sweet boyfriend was a tried-and-true freak in the sheets and gentleman in the streets. And I fucking loved it. I could feel the flush on my cheeks even as I captured his lips with mine, the heat in my body dissipating as I basked in the afterglow.
He returned my kiss with fervor, leaving me just as breathless as he had when he was balls-deep inside me. His blonde hair was a mess, a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, looking sexy as hell in his “just-fucked” radiance. He rolled onto the bed beside me, swiping the hair out of his face.
“I need a shower. I feel grimy from all the fake blood and nasty Halloween decorations.”
“Yeah, you didn’t quite get it all out of your hair earlier.” He chuckled, showing me exactly what I’d missed.
“Gross.”
“Don’t worry. I was kind of into it.”
I smacked his bare chest playfully. “You freak.” I laughed, sliding out of bed.
He watched me walk to the bathroom, his laugh filling the room even as I partially shut the door behind me. The bathroom was as dingy as the rest of the place. The white porcelain sink stained yellow, the floor cracking, the mirror speckled with some kind of fluid. Really, I didn’t think I’d feel any cleaner after showering, but I suppose it was better than nothing. I peeled back the grubby shower curtain, wondering when the last time it had been washed was and turned on the water. One second, two, I could hear the water working its way through the pipes, the pressure of it spurting from the showerhead, clogging momentarily before shooting out in a steady stream.
Yeah, this place has certainly seen better days.
At least I didn’t have to wait for it to warm up though. I stepped in, pulling the curtain closed. I planned on making this a quick one, not wanting to stand in a filthy tub any longer than necessary. I’d just rinsed my hair when a loud crash from the front room startled me. I paused, listening for any further noises only to be met with silence. Finding it a bit odd, I peeked around the curtain, looking towards the cracked door.
“Yunho?”
The crack didn’t let me see much into the other room. Not that it would have anyway if it were fully open. Most of the room laid behind the wall. I closed the curtain again, quickly washing the rest of my body to check on him. It was a half assed job at washing myself, but it would have to do. My hands wiping away the last bit of soap as I lifted my eyes, only to stifle a scream at the silhouette of a person standing on the other side of the shower curtain.
“Jesus, Yunho. You scared the shit out of me.” My laugh came out as a breathless exhale as I willed my heartbeat to slow. “You okay?”
He didn’t answer, his shadow remaining still. The only noise between us was the steady pounding of the water against the bathtub.
“Did you come to join me?” I asked softly, a hint of lust evident in my voice.
When he still didn’t answer, I began to believe something was wrong.
“Yunho?”
I pulled back the curtain, my concern morphing to terror as I the man on the other side wasn’t Yunho. My scream cut off as Ghostface shot a hand out, smothering it with one large hand over my mouth. He shoved me back into the wall, making room for himself to step under the spray and pin me where I stood. Fear settled within me, my heart pumping it through my veins with every beat. I stared into the black holes of his mask, the realization that this was no longer a fucking game weighing heavily on me. His thick fingers dug into my cheeks harshly, my teeth biting into the inside of them, my quiet, terrified whimpers barely audible against the palm over my mouth.
His body eclipsed mine, pressing me harder into the shower wall as he brought his other hand up. The knife blade gleamed under the bathroom light, casting reflections across my skin as he dragged it lazily under the length of my jaw. The cold metal turned me rigid, hardly daring to breathe as it traced fragile flesh. It felt like a lifetime before he pulled it away, only to reach for the mask covering his face. He grabbed the edge of it, slipping it over his head before carelessly letting it drop onto the acrylic tub under our feet with a wet splash. His eyes were as black as the mask he had worn, his platinum hair a wild mess over his forehead as his lips twisted into a ruthless smile.
“Caught you.”
He let his hand over my mouth move to my cheek, tracing the swell of it before trailing down my jaw. I met his dark eyes, a wicked smile growing to match his.
“Took you long enough.”
Mingi hummed, his gaze following the path of his hand before wandering lower, taking in my bare body pressed to his fully clothed one.
“My little Bonnie kept me busy tonight.”
“Three too much to handle baby?”
Mingi’s smile turned vicious as he brought his knife up to tap my bottom lip with the tip of the blade.
“For you baby? Never. I’ll admit it was a nice challenge.”
“I saw you tack on another one for funsies. What did that poor girl ever do to you?” I purred, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Just another bitch that got what she deserved.” He shrugged, not deeming her worth more of an explanation than that. “Besides, I thought you might appreciate getting to see at least one of them die tonight. Too bad it wasn’t your boy toy.”
I sighed, pretending to be upset about it.
“Did you have to kill him? He was a good one. Nice lay too.”
Mingi chuckled, flinging the bits of water clinging to his hair out of his face as he shook his head.
“Oh, I’m sure. I enjoyed the show you put on for me you little slut. Didn’t even bother closing the fucking curtains.”
“Why would I when I know you get off on watching just as much as I do on other cocks?”
“You’re right.” Mingi rumbled in agreement, pressing his lower half into me where I could feel how hard he was. “He fucked you like the whore you are. But I’ll bet he didn’t know just how fucked in the head you really are, did he baby?”
I moaned, arching into him. Mingi’s knife pressed to my jaw again, my heart palpitations leaving me breathless for a completely different reason this time as my desire burned within me. I shook my head, peering up at Mingi through my lashes.
“No. He didn’t know that my little Bonnie gets off on her fear almost as much as I do instilling it in her. Bet he didn’t know how wet you were the second you saw me spying on the two of you, hmm?”
The question was rhetorical, but I shook my head anyway. Mingi’s eyes practically glowed with his lust, gaze trailing down my naked body again as he pulled away. Soft puffs of breath left my lips as his knife followed the blazing path his eyes did, coursing across my skin lethally before stopping at the meat of my thighs. One of Mingi’s boots kicked my ankle over, spreading my legs for him. He flipped the knife, catching it by the blade before resuming his mission, heading for the junction of my thighs with the hilt.
“No, he didn’t.” He crooned, my breath catching as the hilt of his knife brushed my clit. “But I sure did.”
The words left him on a low rumble. Almost like a growl as he pushed his knife further back, breaching my cunt with the end of the handle. I let my head fall back, stretching on my toes as he pushed it in further, fucking me ever so gently with the same knife he’d used to commit murder tonight.
“Now let me have a taste.”
He pulled it out, part of me mourning the loss until he shushed me. I watched, enraptured, as he brought the handle to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick my arousal coating it before wrapping his lips around it entirely. Fuck me. He slid the knife from between his lips, a gravelly moan leaving him that made my pussy clench.
“Fucking delicious, baby. I’ve missed you.”
His lips crashed onto mine, parting my lips easily as his tongue delved between them. He fit the knife into my palm, letting me carry it while his hands hooked the backs of my thighs, hauling me up his body to wrap my legs around his waist. Mingi carried me easily out of the bathroom, the rubber soles of his soaked boots squeaking on the tile until he reached the carpet of the motel room. I kept my lips on his, taking in the taste of him for the first time in a while until he ripped his mouth from mine and tossed me on the bed. I bounced a couple of times, knife still in hand as I glanced towards the front door where Yunho’s body laid unmoving five feet from the door. A small puddle of blood starting to seep out from under him.
I wish I could have said I felt bad, but the truth was, I didn’t. I was as fucked up as Mingi said I was. Possibly even as fucked up as Mingi in some ways. Turning my attention back to him, I was happy to see him stripping. His eyes roaming my exposed flesh freely until I caught his eyes with the knife, teasing my pebbled nipples with the end of it. Mingi bit his lip enticingly, fingers working the button and zipper on his jeans while he watched me play with his toy.
“Want me to mark you up baby?” Mingi’s cruel smile was back, the sight of it skyrocketing my arousal.
“With this?” I waved the knife. “I think I like using it on you more.”
“One of these days, I’ll carve my name on you like a tattoo, so everyone knows who you belong to.”
His eyes burned as he mapped out my curves, envisioning where exactly he would lay his claim. I licked my lips, gesturing for him to finish ridding himself of his pants.
“I’ll let you mark me baby. With your cum.”
“Filthy bitch.” Mingi chuckled, taking the rest of his clothes off, his hard cock slapping the taut skin of his abdomen.
He crawled on top of me, lips finding mine again as he caught my wrist holding his knife. He brought it to his chest, looking down where it lightly dug into his flesh.
“You’ll be mine by the time we finish here. There will be no doubt who you belong to after I fill you with my cum and cover you in my blood.”
He pressed the knife deeper, a small rivulet of blood seeping around the blade and dripping onto me, followed by a few more as he dragged the blade across his skin. Blood blossomed from the fresh wound, dripping down the knife, my fingers, and my arm. Mingi groaned, whether from the pain or the sight or both. He ran his hand down the length of my arm, smearing his blood before reaching for my breasts. He delivered a sharp pinch to my nipple, dyeing it red before painting the rest of my breast the same color as he cupped the full flesh.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” He sighed softly, dipping his head down to take my other nipple in his mouth.
I mewled, arching into his touch, my grip on the knife slipping as I buried my bloodstained fingers into his platinum hair. His pained moaned only turned me on more as I tugged on his hair, his teeth grazed my nipple, sending a shock down my spine.
“Ride me baby. Show me how much you missed this cock.” He muttered huskily, pulling away from my breast with a pop.
He leaned back on the pillows against the headboard, his hand coming around his dick, delivering a few pumps as he watched me crawl over him. I straddled his waist, his hands gripping my hips to settle me over him.
“Next time, we won’t be separated from each other as long as we were this time. I can’t fucking handle it.”
“Aww, did my psychopath lose a bit of his sanity not being able to fuck his favorite pussy?”
He glared up at me, gritting his teeth as he lined the head of his cock with my center. Without warning, he thrust into me from below, my breath catching as he filled me.
“I’d punish you for your bratty mouth you slut, if I wasn’t so damn desperate to feel you around me. I should fucking ruin this cunt for the time you made me wait.”
I moaned, enjoying his threats a little more than he probably intended me to. I laid my hands on his chest, purposely digging my fingers into the cut he’d made earlier as I slid up on his cock before sinking down on it again. Mingi groaned deeply, his eyes rolling back as he guided my hips. I bounced on him recklessly, using him as I rode him towards my release, not that I think he minded. He grunted, lifting his head enough to watch his length disappear inside me every time I came back down. His blood stained my fingertips anew, a vicious smile curling my lips as I ran them down my stomach. If it were even possible, he seemed to grow harder inside me as I trailed lower, fingers finding my clit.
“Shit, you were fucking made for me baby.” He chuckled, smacking my ass hard.
The sting was white hot, the burn driving my lust higher as I ground my pelvis against him. Mingi’s breathing stuttered, his big hands clamping down on my thighs as he drove up into me brutally.
“A whore made just for me.” He growled out, nails biting into my flesh hard enough to draw blood as I swirled my fingers over my clit faster.
My head fell back, my thighs clenching around his waist while my cunt milked his cock for everything he couldn’t give me in months. Mingi’s hips slammed into mine one more time, the veins in his neck popping as his loud groans shook the walls around us as he emptied himself inside me. His hand gripped the back of my neck, pulling me down to him as his lips caught mine. Some would say that a man like Mingi wouldn’t be capable of love. But I could tell that wasn’t entirely true in the way he kissed me.
He was capable of love. I knew it because I was. I loved him, and though our love wasn’t in a traditional sense, I wouldn’t trade it for some run-of-the-mill white picket fence bullshit. Mingi’s lips detached from mine, looking to the alarm clock stationed on the nightstand beside the bed. He lazily dragged his eyes back to mine, the desire in them hardly dimmed.
“We have another few hours before we need to hit the road. I don’t think you have enough of me on you yet. Or in you.”
“All that killing really worked you up.” I teased, brushing my lips over his.
“You work me up.” He corrected, flipping us over so he could hover over me. “I get so fucking hard watching you wrap every single man around your finger. Seeing you toy with them. Walking them into their own demise without them having a fucking clue.”
He kissed my nose, doing it again when little giggles poured out of me until he was peppering me with kisses.
“I love you.” He said, pressing his lips to mine in a soft kiss.
“I love you too.” I crooned, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Now fuck me again like you hate me.”
I sat in one of the last available seats in the bustling café, textbook splayed out on the table and coffee in one hand as I scanned the multitude of annotations and highlighted paragraphs in front of me. My lips curling unconsciously as I read a particularly interesting passage before sliding a finger under the page to turn it.
“Criminology, huh?”
Slowly, I tore my eyes from my book, glancing up at the unfamiliar voice. He was undoubtedly handsome. Sharp, well-proportioned features, flawless skin, and warm brown eyes. He oozed a confidence I didn't see all too often in the men who approached me. A gentle, charismatic kind instead of overbearing. I ran my gaze over him, taking in his figure clad in fine taste, though it was easy to tell he enjoyed modifying styles to fit his tastes. I liked it.
I set my coffee down, smile taking over my face for an entirely different reason this time as I turned towards the stranger, giving him my full attention.
“I have an exam coming up and I focus better around people.”
“Ah, you're a student then. So am I.”
“SNU?”
“SNU.” He confirmed, flashing a gorgeous smile. “I'm Hongjoong.”
“Y/N.” I introduced myself, offering a hand for him.
“Well, Y/N, I don't know how much help I would be considering I don't know a single thing about criminology, but if you'd like, I wouldn't mind helping you study for your exam.”
To Hongjoong, the softening of my expression and genuine smile came off as one of appreciation, but there was one man in the café who was more than aware of the true intention behind my seemingly polite nature. My eyes flickered towards him, seated at a small table across the room with a front row seat to the show I put on for Hongjoong. His dark eyes met mine briefly before gliding over Hongjoong. His perusal only took a couple of seconds before those wild orbs sought mine again and he gave an almost imperceptible nod in my direction.
With that, Mingi stood, tossing his single cup of coffee into the trash on his way out the door. A mundane action that told me all I needed to know as I looked back at Hongjoong.
“Don't worry, I have a list of questions and answers you can read off of to make it easier for you. Would you like to sit down?”
Bring You to my Hell is an original work written by remedyx. Unauthorized use or reposting of this story on any other platform besides Tumblr or Ao3 not under the username (remedyx or Remedy_X) is plagiarism and will not be tolerated.
in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.
it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.
song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.
mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.
he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.
"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.
nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.
loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.
"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"
at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.
the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.
"stand up."
the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.
"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.
he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.
"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.
he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.
"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.
the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.
"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.
"excuse me, what is going on here?"
a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.
"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."
"that man needs help!"
"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."
"help"
his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.
"i'm calling help, mr barnes."
"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."
mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.
you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.
you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?
"i want a patient change."
"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.
"he's a human before everything, sir."
the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.
"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"
"i'm just a doctor–"
"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."
"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.
"then act like it."
he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.
"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.
at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.
"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"
you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.
"understood?!"
"yes, yes–"
your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.
"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."
"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."
"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."
"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."
"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.
"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.
you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.
"dismissed."
days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.
a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.
what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.
you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.
your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.
your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.
summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.
you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.
the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.
"jeong office."
"i'll need you to cover for me today."
"doctor?"
"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."
it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.
"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."
"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."
"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.
you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.
you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.
"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.
they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.
"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."
"no, sit on mine!"
"i'd rather her sit between my legs."
"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"
you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.
you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.
"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.
"what is it, elijah?"
the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.
"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."
and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.
"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.
he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.
"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."
he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.
"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.
you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.
"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"
you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.
"imagine how it hurts me."
you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.
"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"
"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."
"the source of my pain, doctor. please."
your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.
"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"
"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."
you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.
he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.
"mr song?"
"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."
he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.
"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."
"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.
at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.
"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"
"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."
"mingi," he exhales.
"i'm not supposed to-"
"please."
you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?
"okay, mingi."
his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.
"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.
"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"
"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."
he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.
"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"
"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."
your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.
"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.
he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.
"mingi, you will have to let me go."
"just a bit more, please."
"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."
the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.
"lift your shirt up for me, please?"
he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.
you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.
you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.
"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"
"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.
he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.
"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.
he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.
"you're pretty." he blurts out.
"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.
"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.
"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.
"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.
"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."
you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.
"oh, god. what is this?"
"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.
"a belt?!"
"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."
"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.
you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.
"and what about this? does this hurt-?"
"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.
your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.
"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."
"x-ray? what could it be?"
"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."
he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.
"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.
"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."
your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.
"are you eating properly?"
he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.
"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."
"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.
he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.
"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.
"nothing."
"you can tell me." you push.
the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.
"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.
"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.
his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.
"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."
you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.
"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.
a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.
the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.
"good morning, mingi."
he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.
"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.
"good morn–"
slap.
mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.
"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"
the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.
"did I make myself clear?!"
"yes, yes! perfectly clear."
mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.
"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.
his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.
"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."
you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.
a good boy.
he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.
"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"
he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.
he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.
"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."
but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.
you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.
in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.
he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.
he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.
your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.
his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.
he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.
"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.
"shut the hell up."
the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.
"that lip cut looks new." you comment.
"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.
"cole?"
"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.
"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"
"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.
"okay."
mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.
"here's your medication."
you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.
"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.
"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.
"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.
the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.
"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.
"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.
"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.
"canteen?"
"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."
and with another smile, you are gone.
canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.
the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.
"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."
"okay," he finally agrees.
he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.
with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?
"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.
the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.
he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.
"well, well. lookie here."
three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.
"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.
"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.
"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.
"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.
they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?
"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.
"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"
"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"
"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.
"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."
the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.
jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.
"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"
"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."
"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."
"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."
"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."
mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.
"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"
"i'd rather her give me a head."
"i heard she's a virgin."
"aw, i get to be her first and last!"
mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.
one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat.
"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.
mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.
"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.
"what the fuck?!"
"oh my god!"
"who let him in here?"
"run!"
"get dr rachel!"
his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.
he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is slowly turning red.
"safe..." he whispers.
jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.
"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.
"safe from what, mingi?"
"i'll keep you safe."
his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.
"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"
dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.
"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."
"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.
"mr jeong?" she searches for support.
but he remains silent.
"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"
"shut up."
"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."
"shut up."
"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."
"shut up."
"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.
"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"
tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.
"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"
your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.
you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.
"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."
and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.
"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.
days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.
you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?
"doctor?"
you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.
"how is he?" you ask before thinking.
elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.
"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."
"how are his injuries? anything new?"
"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."
you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.
"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.
"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"
"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."
"i need to see him."
"no."
"make it happen, please. please, elijah."
"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."
you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."
elijah exhales. "fine."
at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.
hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.
you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.
"mingi," you call in a whisper.
his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.
"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.
"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."
"well, i'm not."
you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.
"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"
when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.
"i'm sorry," you choke out.
you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.
"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."
his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.
"can i? please?"
"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.
"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."
"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."
"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."
a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.
"barnes! care for a drink?"
"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."
"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."
"you paying?"
"sure am."
"then what the fuck we waiting for?"
the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.
"my savior," he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.
"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"
mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.
sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."
"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.
his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.
"so it's true."
"what is?"
"you're a virgin."
"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"
"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."
oh. oh.
"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."
"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."
the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.
"don't be a brat. i came to see you."
"and you did. i'm fine. now go."
"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"
"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."
"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."
he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.
mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.
"i can't."
"why not?"
"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."
"maybe i want to be hurt."
"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."
your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.
"i'd break you."
you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.
"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.
"and if you regret it?"
"i'll get over it."
with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.
"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.
"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."
"touch me more. i need more."
the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.
he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.
"should i take it off?"
"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."
"but won't it be difficult?"
"let me do the worrying. you just relax."
with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.
"stay still for me, princess."
a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.
"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."
"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"
"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal.
and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.
he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.
"does it hurt, doctor?"
"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.
"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."
his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.
"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.
"why?"
"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.
"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."
his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.
"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."
your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.
"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.
tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.
"forgive me."
"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.
"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."
his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.
"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."
you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.
"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."
then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.
"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."
"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.
"can i stuff you full of my cum?"
"you can, please."
"are you on any pills?"
"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."
mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.
"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."
"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."
"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."
"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."
"i want you all to myself."
he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.
"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."
"your cunt was shaped for me."
"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."
"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."
"and nobody will touch me, except you."
"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."
he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.
"cream all over my cock, princess. please."
he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.
"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."
you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.
"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."
your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.
jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.
my saviour, the young prisoner said.
yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
summary: You accidentally walk in on your neighbour having sex with his boyfriend. The boyfriend has an interesting suggestion.
wc: 43.2k and counting
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns
warnings: mostly hard/soft dom San (smth smth duality), mostly bratty sub Wooyoung, mostly sub reader, communication about boundaries (sexual and non-sexual), established Woosan, eventual queerplatonic relationship, a thin layer of plot to facilitate all the smut
smut: threesomes, voyeurism/exhibitionism (first time accidental), degradation kink (Woo), praise kink (reader/San), degradation as praise, vaginal/anal sex, condomless sex with IUD, creampie, sloppy seconds, dirty talk, finger sucking, (guided) masturbation, cunnilingus, blow jobs, hand jobs, spanking, body worship, cumplay, cum shots, face sitting, vaginal/anal fingering, frottage, rough sex, BDSM, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, edging, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, nipple play, pain kink, spit kink, hair pulling, rimming, felching, choking, bondage, gag, cock ring, butt plug, brat taming, dumbification, squirting, pussy spank, phone sex, nudes, spitroast, double vaginal penetration, subspace, facial, pegging, aftercare, dom drop (once), safe words, pet names (‘sweet/good girl’ & ‘baby’ are used for reader)
more warnings might be added: the whole fic and all smut is outlined, but i could get hit with inspiration (or have forgotten something.) i’m putting specific warnings on each chapter so you can pick and skip as you like (‾◡◝)
chapter 1: in which Wooyoung has a suggestion
2.4k, 18+
chapter 2: in which Wooyoung escalates things (again)
7.4k, 18+
chapter 3: in which Wooyoung earns himself some pussy
8.0k, 18+
chapter 4: in which Hongjoong checks up on you
9.5k, 18+
chapter 5: in which San gives you a call
7.9k, 18+
chapter 6: in which teamwork makes the dream work
8k, 18+
chapter 7: in which the writer still needs to work out a title because he keeps adding more chapters just to torment herself
TBA
chapter 8: in which Wooyoung breaks a rule
TBA
chapter 9: in which you take care of San
TBA
chapter 10: in which Wooyoung is a bad influence
TBA
chapter 11: in which Wooyoung yet again escalates things
TBA
chapter 12: in which you top a babygirl (Wooyoung. It’s Wooyoung.)
TBA
kianamaiart
stormborns
areudirty
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
