#ateez scenario

[songmingisthighs]

Oddeleny

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ch. xv - technically

ghost!yeosang × reader

genre : ghost!au

rating, warning : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

buy me coffee ?

a connection once had, broken with the expectation that the ending is final. but life has an odd proclivity of making attachments from detachments. in the end, we don't know what we lost until we look at what we have

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

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@starjoongie1117 @rheriver

[pirateprincessblog]

outlaw

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"another one, sweetheart."

i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.

"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.

your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.

if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"you're quitting school."

just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.

"hey, bitch, over here!"

monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.

reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.

the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.

sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.

you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.

a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.

the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.

"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"

you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.

"hungry?"

this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.

"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."

he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.

"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."

charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.

"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."

but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.

"clumsy girl," he teases.

you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.

"wyatt," he calls.

the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.

"you go on. i'll catch up with you."

without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.

you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.

the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.

"if you're done staring, you can join me."

caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.

"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."

and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?

you should really get home.

thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.

"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.

it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.

"i'll take you home."

"no!"

the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.

you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."

"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"because."

"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."

if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.

fuck.

"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.

"lies."

"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"

"does he beat you every day?"

he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.

"or only when you do something wrong?"

"i don't see how that's any of your business."

"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."

you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?

"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."

you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.

when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.

he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.

"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.

"i'll be fine." you lie.

you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."

he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.

"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."

he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.

weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.

you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.

the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"what's wrong, boy?"

denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."

"who is?"

"the stallion."

you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.

your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.

"good day, darling."

your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."

"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.

"uh, yes-"

"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.

the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"

"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."

the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."

you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-

"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.

"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"

defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."

alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.

"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"

you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.

his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"

you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.

"that's okay."

his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.

he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.

realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes. 

as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."

hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.

you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.

and you don't even know his name.

"did he touch you?"

"what?!"

"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"

"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"

he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"

"like?"

"anything."

"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."

smack.

nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot  cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.

"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."

"but it's dinner time-"

"judith will help me. go. now."

not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?

you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.

"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.

"oh." is all you manage to say.

"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."

"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.

"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"

no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?

"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"

you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.

"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."

other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.

"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."

you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.

"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."

his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?

"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."

"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"

"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."

"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"

"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."

"i didn't want to-"

"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."

"no."

the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.

your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.

"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."

tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.

"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"

his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.

"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."

you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?

"let's get you washed."

after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.

you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.

if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.

the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?

for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.

saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.

"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."

"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"

"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.

they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.

but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.

slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.

"gin."

"right away."

the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.

"say, when are we going to have fun again?"

"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"

yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.

"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.

he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.

"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.

"what?"

"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."

"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."

"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."

great.

you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

he is so manly, so handsome, and so...

"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"

he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."

you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?

"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."

"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.

you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-

"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"

"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.

"give yourself some time to think."

the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.

"uh... can you sit up straight?"

yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.

"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"

"right away, darling."

he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.

"you missed a spot."

"huh?"

"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.

"oh, sorry."

he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.

"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.

"but-"

"i'll finish up. go."

coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.

yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.

you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.

"i can't do it." 

"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."

"i need time."

jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?

"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."

"what, he spoke to you about me?"

wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.

"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.

you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"

the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."

"what do you mean? yes or no?"

"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.

"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."

you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."

"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"

"jongho. shut the fuck up."

"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."

the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.

the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.

how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.

it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.

the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.

"aren't you cute?"

your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.

"moonshine."

click. click. click.

"come on, girl."

the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.

"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"

your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.

"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."

his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.

"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"

the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.

"heavens." he exhales.

you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.

"darling?"

his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?

you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.

"had a good nap?"

"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"that's no place to sleep, dove."

"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."

he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.

"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."

"i'm not sure-"

"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.

the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.

"go on, climb her."

"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."

"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."

with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.

"is she fast?"

"she can be. want to see?"

"i don't know. i might scream."

he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?

"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.

you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.

you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.

his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.

"you alright?"

"yes!"

"how do you feel? scared?"

"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"

his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.

"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.

"a bit."

this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.

you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?

"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."

and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.

"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."

"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."

"take it."

"no."

"take it."

"i don't want to."

yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-

"why would you do that?!"

you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.

"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."

"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."

his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.

"you know my name."

"yeah."

"how?"

and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.

"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."

you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"

"a psycho."

"oh."

"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."

he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."

"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."

"then... why did you keep it?"

"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."

"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."

he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."

so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?

"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"

"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.

"he stole your first kiss."

"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.

"what- what are you doing?"

"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."

you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.

you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.

he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.

"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.

"like what?"

"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."

"maybe i do."

"you're saying risky things, sugar."

seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.

"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.

he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.

"what is it?"

"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."

the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."

"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.

"like a feast."

with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"

"sit."

"what?!"

"sit."

you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.

"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."

you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"

the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.

"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.

deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"

"yes, please."

"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."

he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.

"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."

you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.

"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."

he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?

"this good, darling?"

"yes."

"yes, what?"

"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.

he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.

"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"

"what?"

"do you wish to be mine?"

do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:

"yes, sir."

"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.

"yunho."

he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."

"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.

"again."

"yunho-"

"more."

"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"

he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.

"does it hurt?"

"no," you reply.

"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."

that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.

"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."

"me too," you moan.

his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.

"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."

"so sweet"

"even your moans are so beautiful"

"use me for your pleasure, darling"

you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.

"yunho..."

"yes, my love?"

"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."

"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."

you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.

"let's try this."

he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.

"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.

"wait, what about you?"

"i'll just- i don't know."

his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?

"are you sure?"

"positive."

"absolutely sure?"

"yunho?"

"yes?"

"please cum in my mouth."

and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"you are just perfect, aren't you?"

in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.

upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?

he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.

"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.

"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.

you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.

"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."

"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."

blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."

"he shot her."

"you shot my father!"

"he deserved it!"

"no, the fuck he didn't!"

you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?

"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.

"don't touch me."

"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."

he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.

"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.

"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."

he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?

"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."

"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."

yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?

"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."

and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.

why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?

"you're all mine now, sunshine."

feedback greatly appreciated! <3

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : He couldn't help but think such filth when you were innocently fast asleep only merely a couple of feet away from him.

『Word count』 :  1.12k

-> Genre: Pure smut. Little plot. DBF.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader [Hwa's Daughter]

[Warnings] : Slightly Noncon (Reader is asleep at first). Masturbation. Cum play. Thoughts and fantasies. Pet names. Sir kinkish. Hongjoong is nasty. Also, Joong is like in his late 30s and tatted while the reader is only 23. Whoops.

Note: No one asked for this, but for some reason, I was hooked on the thought of the Dad's best friend trope, and Hongjoong is really coming for my heart. So, It was a perfect match in my eyes.

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy Me A Ko-Fi

You didn't know what came over yourself. It felt like the heating was turned up tenfold. Your nose scrunched as you began to move more and more in your sleep. Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch your discomfort in curiosity. Were you having a nightmare? No, you weren’t one to have them. But then again, maybe you just didn’t tell anyone. And being on a family trip in the middle of nowhere would cause distress.

Maybe I should wake her?… He thought, now sitting fully up on the pull-out couch bed. You were no longer tucked under the big fluffy covers on the single bed. No, you had thrown them off moments ago, revealing your mid-drift slightly from your short sleep top and the fact you weren't wearing any pants. God, you looked so cute in your black frilly panties…No, he couldn’t think of such a thing. Not when you were his best friend's daughter. 

But oh how you looked delicious. When he met Seonghwa, he had no clue he had a daughter, let alone one that was twenty-two. And when he agreed to go on this camping trip─more like staying in this large cabin on Seonghwa family’s land─he didn’t expect to see you tag along. You were stunning the moment he saw you hop out of your car. You were everything he would want in a woman and after spending hours of the day chatting and getting to know you he knew he was fucked. Anyone outside your conversations, like Seonghwa or his other friends and their kids, would see it as some harmless banter. But in reality, Hongjoong was shamelessly flirting. He didn’t mean it at first, but it just kept going, and you kept egging him on. So what was he supposed to do?

Since there were quite a lot of people that had come on the getaway, rooms were tight. And you had begged your father not to let you sleep in the rooms where the kids were cause you were certain one of San’s boys wanted more than innocent late-night chats… He ended up putting you in the same small study-turned-bedroom where there was a single bed and a double pull-out with Hongjoong. He originally offered to take the single, but you argued, saying his ‘old man back’ wouldn’t like it. He let you take it after that comment.

“J-joong…” you mumbled, almost inaudible. The older man's eyes snapped to your parted lips in a millisecond. Did you just say his name? No, he was definitely hearing things. “Joong, please.”

No, he definitely heard you that time. Your little panting, knitted brow, and soft moans. You weren’t having a nightmare. You were having a sex dream. And it was about him. God, did he wake up in another universe where everything went his way?! He ruffled his hair before rubbing his face in disbelief. He needed to hear you again, but as he took in your figure, he noticed you were now biting your lip, and your hips were jerking slowly. The pillow you were cuddling was tightly pressed up against your covered cunt in between your legs, and every little movement of your hips sent a shock of pleasure through your body.

You were humping your pillow at the thought of them while fast asleep.

He knew it was bad, but as his cock twitched for the millionth time he knew he needed to give himself some relief. And besides, you were sleeping, so you wouldn’t catch him only a couple of feet away from you, fucking his fists in time with your thrusts as your little moans carried out the nastiest fantasies his mind could conjure.... Right?

The thought of you laying out on his bed back at his penthouse. You're soaking on complete display as you beg him to hurry and touch you. He questions if you are a virgin, and if you were would you let him fuck you raw? Just the thought of slipping inside your tight virgin pussy while you tear up at his girth. He squeezed his cock tighter, staring at you intensely, he moved the sheets off himself, hissing slightly at the cool air hitting his hot angry tip. He needed more, he needed to hear his name spill from your mouth again. And it was as if the gods answered his prayers hearing you whimper, “P-please H-hongjoong.”

That was enough to tip him over the edge, speeding up his movements. He noticed the stutter in your hips. You were close to. He’d whisper to himself, “Let’s cum together baby. Cum all over my cock, fuuck.”

He wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time, splurting all over his hand, chest, and some dripping on his thigh. Fuck, he came so much. His eyes were shut, head leaning back against the backing of the couch. His heart was thumping in his ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear anything more. He was in complete ecstasy and peace. That was until he felt the bed dip, making his heart stop and eyes widen. “oh uh..I. um..” fuck, he was so fucked. You were sitting on the end of his bed, half asleep with the haziest expression while staring at his cock still tightly in his hand. His dick twitched, causing a groan, mostly from annoyance as he had been caught and he does even feel an ounce of guilt.

“D-did I cause t-that…” You said sweetly, so innocently. Could you get any more perfect?!

“I’m sorry angel, just go back to sleep, yeah…” He tucks himself back into his boxers, feeling his cum stick to the fabric which caused him to gag. He’s gonna have to slip out for a shower. But you didn’t budge as you took in his words. Instead, you pushed past any anxiety you had over the past days wondering whether Hongjoong liked you the same way, and moved closer to grab his hand that still had some of his cum on. You had woken up over five minutes ago before Hongjoong had creamed himself. His head was thrown back and he was in complete bliss and it caused you to cum just from the sight alone. “A-Angel…”

You didn’t let him speak another word as you placed two of his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Soaking them. And once they were wet enough, you pulled them out with an audible pop. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with the older male, you moved his hand down until those two wet fingers dipped into your completely ruined panties, letting him feel exactly how wet you were for him. They would slip so perfectly into your cunt causing you to sigh in relief, feeling so full just from his fingers alone. “Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”

Hongjoong was done for.

—♡

[lilhwahwa]

ATEEZ Reaction: You can't fall asleep (MATZ. ver)

★|•°∵ Scenario: Your boyfriend reacts to you not being able to fall asleep.

★|•°∵ Idolbf!matz x nonidol!reader

{PICS NOT MINE / FROM PINTEREST}

MASTERLIST

Hongjoong

Hongjoong wasn't expecting you to answer his message at this hour. He never really did. The good night messages with information about his well being was at this point nothing more than an automatic thing he'd do to remind you he was alive and well, even when buried in his dark studio, far away from the warm bed you were probably sleeping in.

Goosebumps spread over his skin at the thought of relaxing deep into your soft mattress. The scent of your detergent on your sheets would almost always knock him out, with the help of your warm body pressed to his of course. The company had been nice with letting him come over to your place, merely warning him to be cautious when staying over and thus far you hadn't gotten caught.

But the past few months had been more than hectic. With continuous trips in and out of Korea and a comeback, the only piece of your boyfriend that you got during this time was a text message or on rare occasions a video call. You knew of course, getting into the relationship what it would mean, but it is easier said than done. Once you got to have him in your bed, the greed inside you would never again let any sleep satisfy you unless you had him by your side and thus you developed irregular sleeping patterns.

The second Hongjoong sees the delivered receipt turn into read, his eyebrows furrowed. Had he woken you up?

"That's so cute:( I'm still awake though" you'd write.

You knew how he struggled with expressing his emotions sometimes and him having the safety of you being asleep somewhat eased his anxiety when sending you the good night texts. Tonight you were wide awake though.

"You're not asleep?"

"Nope..."

"Can I call?"

But before he could, you were already reaching to dial his number on video call.

When he picked up you were met with a barefaced Hongjoong, sitting back in his studio chair with an oversized shirt on. He smiles softly when he sees your poorly lit face in the darkness of your bedroom, making the large frames on his face shift. The only thing lighting your side of the call up was your phone screen.

"Can't sleep, baby?" he asks knowingly, looking over the way your eyes only managed to open half way, heavy with exhaustion yet your brain couldn't seem to shut off.

"Mhm" you hum, pouting slightly and although Hongjoong couldn't see it, he knew your every expression.

"Want to work with me?" he asked already knowing the answer, finding something to lean his phone against as he positioned the camera so you could see him well. The studio was dimly lit, giving Hongjoong's skin a soft glow. How you wish you'd be with him, even just sitting on the hard-cushioned couch in the corner of his studio would be enough. Maybe he'd let you sit on his lap if you complained about the couch hard enough. You sigh and imagine how warm his skin would be if he was sleeping next to you. Watching his eyes flicker to the computer you adjust your position, putting your phone against the pillow he would usually have if he was to sleep over.

He knows not to keep you talking, it would only disturb your sleep more. Instead he talks to himself in a soft voice as he tells you about what audio he needed for the section he was currently working on or randomly tell you something a member said. He didn’t expect an answer, your presence was good enough. The sound of his mouse clicking on multiple samples and his voice humming a melody he wanted to create soon became a soothing song for you to fall asleep to.

Even after you'd finally fall asleep, Hongjoong kept the video call on, glancing your direction here and there as an encouragement to finish work faster so he could get a day or two free for you.

Seonghwa

When your boyfriend invited you to sleep over for the first time, you were initially excited to finally spend such close time together. You had been dating for just over a month but with him having tight schedules you could never really catch him on a date. The thought of not ending your day together with a chaste kiss and goodbye made your cheeks warm up.

Your first concerns were whether he'd like the way you looked without makeup. What if you woke up with bad morning breath and messy hair? Would the food you ate on your date make you bloated and uncomfortable when you cuddle? He would want to cuddle...right?

All of your concerns were valid. It was after all your first time in this territory with Seonghwa. But you had forgotten one not so little detail of concern. You usually struggle with going to sleep. Normally it wouldn't be too bad. The energy left over from the day and your habit of procrastinating were the main culprits. But what you had not taken into account was just how nervous you were spending a night with Seonghwa. After he proudly got his own room and decorated it to his liking, he was eager to invite you. It had taken some time ot convince his housemates, seeing as you still weren't that familiar with them. Having a stranger, even if you were Seonghwa's girlfriend, in their home would probably mean they couldn't be fully comfortable.

After they finally agreed, Seonghwa softly began encouraging you to sleep over, never pushing you in case you didn't want to. He'd just send cute Tiktok's of fort building tutorials or cute couples wearing matching pyjamas.

That's how you ended up in Seonghwa's bed. It was not really made for two people but it only gave you the excuse to lay closer to him. Your eyes were trained on the movie playing on the computer in his lap. You were more comfortable than you thought you'd be, eyes growing heavier as the soft fabric of Seonghwa's hoodie comforted your cheek. It was soft and smelled clean, like him.

Seonghwa took notice of your sleepiness and assumed you were seconds form falling asleep. He smiled to himself, biting his lip as he admired the sight for a few seconds. He decided to stop the movie for now, switching to browsing his phone with your head comfortably on his shoulder. He shifted you both lower to lay down and you immediately open your eyes, snapping out of the short moment. The second your eyes open you feel a shock go through your body. It is as if somebody put eye drops in your eyes because they were wide awake and not clouding over with sleep. Seonghwa felt you jerk and looked over.

"Shh, go back to sleep" he hummed, reaching his hand over to stroke you hair, thinking it'd do the trick.

You sigh and turn onto your side, burying yourself deeper into his sweatshirt as you force your eyes shut. You did feel tired, but why is it your mind was suddenly running over a million thoughts. Was he comfortable? Did your hair smell good enough? Did he think your first sleep over was disappointing? You hadn't noticed how your body stiffened but Seonghwa had felt it. He put his phone down and looked down at you.

"You're not sleeping?" he whispered, just in case you were. You open your eyes when he addresses you and look up at him shyly, shaking your head.

"I always struggle a little with sleep and just us-" you want to tell him you were nervous, but would it sound stupid? You weren't a kid and should be able to tell him. But was the reason good enough?

"I get it, it's a new setting and this is first time for us. But it's just me, don't worry" Seonghwa hummed, putting his phone away to turn to his side and let you move into his embrace. His hand snaked over your back to stroke it gently, looking down at you with sleepy eyes. He hadn't noticed how sleepy he had gotten either.

"I am happy you're here with me, I'm happy to be like this with you" he reassures with a whisper. You didn't know how he always expressed himself easily but you're thankful for it in this moment, hiding your face away into his neck out of shyness. A familiar warm chuckle left Seonghwa as his hand tapped your back.

"Just let your head empty of thoughts, I'll be here to hold you" he murmured, closing his own eyes as his hand continued drawing figures on your back to soothe you. "I could always talk to you about star wars or something, I'm sure that'd make you fall asleep" he teased himself, which made you chuckle sleepily, already feeling how his warmth and comfort was lulling you.

And when you thought you could answer him, your lips never managed to move. The sentence full of gratitude for him stayed in your thoughts as you finally fell asleep, Seonghwa following closely behind you.

[justwritedreams]

House Of Cards | San

San x Reader, exes to lovers au!, mafia au!

Word count: 12.013 (hehe)

Genre: angst, suggestive, fluff at the end

Warning: mention of crimes and violence, suggestive, language, San in a pool bc that's a warning. If you don't feel comfortable DON’T READ IT!

Author: Maari

Note: Ok so that was an imagine that i wrote with got7 yugyeom but reading again i decided to repost with san, because i think it fits him more.

Summary: It seems like your ghost from the past came at the best time to save you.

Taglist: @foxinnie8

⪢ Ateez Masterlist

“Miss Y/N.” She heard her own name echo through the corridor and turned around, coming face to face with one of the security guards whose name she hadn't yet memorized.

"Yes?"

“Mr. Kim wants to see you.”

She took a deep breath. She had just arrived at the hotel, he himself had told her to go up to the presidential suite

“Tell him I’m coming.”

“Now, miss.” His serious tone made her stop in her tracks and look at the security guard with some concern.

It wouldn't be good to go against Seungho's rules. It never was.

She nodded and followed him, the shower she planned to take would have to wait a little bit.

A while ago she would have sighed at the elegance of the hotel but unfortunately for Y/N, she was starting to get used to that life.

Well, used to wasn't quite the word. Conformed was more certain.

As she predicted, the security guard took her to a private area of the hotel, she was sure that Seungho had requested that only he frequent that place and with the great influence he had, it wasn't denied.

Y/N approached him alone and in silence, seeing him sitting in an armchair staring at the glass of whiskey he held.

"Wanted to see me?" She crossed her arms behind her body and swallowed hard when he looked at her.

She hated the weight of his eyes on her.

"Come here." he patted his own leg and she got the message, taking a deep breath before sitting on his lap.

Seungho ran his free hand down Y/N's back and stopped at the base of her lower back, the smell of alcohol was permeating his pores and it was enough for her to realize that this wasn't the first glass of whiskey.

Y/N didn't understand the sudden affection until he approached and kissed her lips, as always in a thirsty and quick way that caused absolutely nothing to Y/N.

Except disgust.

"You didn't call me here just to kiss me, did you?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.

"No, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." he approached once more but Y/N immediately avoided it. "Alright, I need you to stay by my side while I partner up."

He held out the glass of whiskey and she held it, reluctantly, her brow furrowed.

"Why? You're not going to introduce me as your girlfriend, right?" His eyes dropped to the small neckline of Y/N's dress.

She would have shifted uncomfortably if she hadn't been in his lap, that might have given him ideas she didn't want him to have.

"Don't be silly, of course not." Seungho's cold tone didn't even shock Y/N. "You know women with your beauty make business easier."

She blinked and blinked, in disbelief.

"Do you want me to seduce a future partner?" she asked, not as incredulous as she would have been in the past. This had been quite common, actually.

"No, I don't want you to go to bed with him." He responded possessively and angrily. "I just want you to give us the privilege of admiring your beauty." his hand ran up the spine to the back of Y/N's head.

She took a deep breath, she hated having to do that ridiculous act but it wasn't like she could say no, she never could.

"Okay, I'm just going to change my clothes." She got up from his lap, she was ready to get out of there, but Seungho held her by the hip.

"No, he's already coming." Seungho got up from the chair and moved his hand away from her body. "You look pretty sexy anyway." he spoke quietly, making her understand that his partner was closer than she imagined.

She lowered her head to look at her own heels, she should have chosen another dress before going to the hotel. That one seemed too short for her own taste but what could she do if Seungho had liked it and the pair of black high heels?

She lived to please him.

Noticing that she was still holding the glass, she downed the whiskey in one go so that she could gain a little more confidence to do the dirty work.

"Mr. Kim." the partner spoke friendly and Y/N swallowed the alcohol, which went down her throat and felt her heart stop when she heard his voice.

She knew that voice…

"Please, call me Seungho. Sit down."

Y/N lowered her head and opened her eyes, watching as Seungho pointed to the front seat and the two did so, with shaky legs she sat in the seat next to Seungho's and her eyes stopped on the future partner's hands.

Years could pass, but she would never forget those hands, not when they showed so many times the love that their owner felt for Y/N.

With complete certainty that this was really who she thought, she raised her head after letting out a sigh and her eyes met his for the first time in so many years, making her press her fingers against the empty glass she was holding.

Y/N felt a mix of emotions, her hands started to shake just with his eyes fixed on her, she didn't fail to notice that he analyzed her quickly before turning his gaze to Seungho, she got goosebumps from head to toe and asked herself how could he still do that to her? And what was he actually doing there?

"Choi San, right?" Seungho asked, making Y/N return to reality.

"Correct."

"Your secretary called me."

"We are very interested in a partnership with you, Seungho. I believe it will bring benefits to both parties, as my partner has already explained everything to you." the two maintained a rigid posture but unlike Seungho, San was elegant.

Of course, the gray suit San wore was very different from the hoodies he had and that she remembered, it suited the formal atmosphere they were in but it went beyond his appearance.

San's aura was different, as he was ready for that.

"Yes, it was a very productive meeting."

"I'm just here to finish the deal." San quickly looked at Y/N and a smile appeared on his face.

This disconcerted her, and she left the glass on the arm of the chair and clasped her sweaty hands to try to hide her nervousness.

"Well, I can pay you the first million right now if you want." She rolled her eyes discreetly, Seungho loved showing off how rich he was. "Just a minute." He got up from the chair and looked at Y/N quickly, walking away, leaving her alone there and ready to collapse.

If Seungho wanted her to seduce San now, that was a bad time.

But it wasn't surprising since he had never learned to read the atmosphere when she was near, he never noticed when she was uncomfortable or happy, because for him it didn't make any difference.

She looked back at San, still feeling vulnerable about being in front of him again after so many years and took in every detail of his face that she had never been able to forget.

He was different. His face was no longer so thin and youthful, now his features were stronger, more masculine.

The black hair that she remembered falling into his eyes was now perfectly pushed back and the side cut made him look much more handsome and mature.

Even in a suit and tie, she could see that he wasn't as thin as he used to be.

He was no longer the boy she had known, he was a man and very attractive one.

Her body vibrated for her to come closer and she felt her fingers tingle to touch his face one last time, like she hadn't had the opportunity in the past.

He continued to analyze her from top to bottom, much longer, which made her tremble all over.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to find the courage to do what Seungho had told her to do.

"You're getting a great deal, you'll be very pleased." the attempt to use a seductive tone failed due to the way her body was reacting.

She looked like a robot programmed to say that.

“That’s what they say, but it’s not the business I’m interested in.” San seemed to know very well how to use his voice in a low tone and something inside her warmed in a way that hadn't happened in a long time.

Y/N was left with no response and Seungho returned, probably thinking she had gotten what he wanted.

Little did he know that the spell had turned against the sorceress.

“What do you say we play poker while we settle the transaction, San?”

"It would be amazing." he got up from the chair and Y/N's eyes followed him.

She got up from the chair but made to go to the other side towards the uncovered part of that area, but she didn't even take two steps as Seungho held her arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going?"

“I think the little act of being your luxury slut was enough for today.” she responded firmly and he tightened his grip on her arm, to the point of hurting it.

“Don’t play with me, Y/N, I want you by my side until the transaction is over.” His eyes were fixed on her face and for a brief moment, she was afraid.

Looking to the side, she noticed that San was watching them a little further behind Seungho, with his jaw clenched and with a rigid expression.

“I’m not going to sit at that table and watch you play that fuck poker that destroyed my life.” she turned her gaze to Seungho who now seemed to have understood. “You really like torturing me, don't you?”

“One day you’re going to have to stop blaming the cards, my love.” he let go of her arm, and Y/N controlled herself from crying.

It would be pointless and pathetic.

He walked away from her with a wry smile and passed by San, who stood there for a few seconds staring at Y/N until he shook his head and followed him.

She left there, feeling suffocated and her legs were shaking like never before, no longer able to control her tears, she leaned against the wall and looked at the clear sky, all the memories that she had been forced to bury came back with much more intensity.

[...]

7 years ago

“Get out of my house, please.” she begged without having the courage to look into his dark, gentle eyes, she would weaken if she did, especially if he was crying like her.

“Y/N, explain to me what’s going on.” he pleaded and she had to choke back a sob.

"It's over. Go away." She touched the door handle with her back to him, she was about to open it when he gently grabbed her arm.

“Something happened, right?" she took a deep breath before looking at him, feeling her heart break into thousands of pieces and sink into her stomach.

“What happened is that I don’t want you anymore, San. Don't insist." Her voice came out shaky and she knew she hadn't convinced him yet, she was about to break down in front of him but she couldn't. “We’re too young, it would never work.”

"Are you sure about that?" San slowly let go of her arm and looked at her completely lost.

She didn't respond, just opened the door with a silent message for him to leave.

No scene broke her heart like that when she saw him leaving with his head down, hands in his pants pockets and a tear running down his face.

She needed all the strength she didn't even know she had left to ignore the urge to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. Instead, Y/N closed the door and fell to the floor, now without needing or being able to control her crying.

She cried about so many things, she couldn't even list or understand what he cried most about, but she was sure she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

She had never felt so empty.

She was angry, scared, sorry and most of all, she was sad.

Because she had lost the only joy in her life, for a mistake that wasn't hers, for a decision that wasn't hers.

“Daughter…” Y/N looked at the stairs and saw her father coming down the steps, deflated and with a guilty expression.

She passed her hand over her face, drying her tears and got up from the floor. With long and silent steps, she walked past her father with the intention of locking herself in her room.

She would still have that night to sleep in her bed.

"I'm so-"

“Don’t finish that sentence.” She turned angrily, glaring at her father as she sighed. “I did what you wanted, now leave me alone.”

[...]

In recent years, Y/N has tried to erase that memory from her head. She didn't want to relive it like she did in the first nights when her life had changed, when she was brought back to reality with nightmares.

She didn't want to feel again the hurt she had towards her father for doing that to her and even less did she want to feel her heart break again when remembered San being devastated because she had broken up with him.

Even though she had managed to bury that day in the depths of her consciousness, that emptiness was always there.

And now here she was, being haunted by the ghosts of her past and crying like the heartbroken teenager she once was.

She wiped her face, thankful for her makeup being waterproof, approaching the balcony and surveying the bustling city.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She missed home, the happy moments she lived that were now just memories, she even missed her father. But mostly, she missed who she used to be.

The girl who had dreams and insecurities, which were always hushed up by San.

He was always everything for her, the kisses he distributed on her face and the convinced way he said that she would achieve everything she dreamed of, made her believe at the time.

She stayed there for a long time in silence, alone and without security guards watching her every step, making her feel free.

“It’s a wonderful view.” Y/N jumped in fright when she heard San's voice so close.

Looking to the side, she noticed he was next to her.

How and when did he get there?

“Yeah, the city is amazing.” she replied, still feeling her heart beating faster, she just didn't know if it was because of the scare or just because of him.

“I wasn’t talking about the city.” she felt San's eyes boring into her and a shiver ran down the back of her neck.

Since when was San so direct like that? Who had he learned to be like this from?

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing poker or something?” she changed the subject, still looking at the city.

“An hour ago I was.”

Y/N frowned.

Hour? Had she stayed there for an hour?

“So you closed the deal.” She took a deep breath and found the courage to look at him.

San nodded silently.

“You don’t seem very happy about this.” he smiled sideways, leaning on a pillar.

Happy? She didn't even know what that was anymore.

“I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” she shrugged, sighing.

“Why don’t you explain it to me?” San looked at her intensely and she returned it, unable to look away.

She could, a part of her screamed at her to do so, but she knew what she had to lose and she couldn't risk it, not now that he was there and she couldn't protect him from Seungho's fury.

"You wouldn't understand."

“Maybe I should warn you.” he took a step towards her while keeping his tone serious, without looking away.

“I'm not kidding, San. Be careful."

 Y/N's intention was to get out of there quickly, but he stopped her from continuing when he gently grabbed her wrist.

The contact made her stop, her heart beating faster. Feeling his touch again was everything she had asked for, being close to him was much more than she thought she deserved.

“So let’s be clear that I’m not kidding either.” She could practically feel his breath, his face was so close she could touch it at any moment if she stayed there. “In nothing I did or said today.” She swallowed hard and looked at him, seeing the conviction in his dark eyes and once again, she was left speechless.

She wanted to cry, for so many nights she had dreamed of those same eyes and it seemed like a dream that he was there so close to her and at the same time so far away, because even though he was the San she knew, he was no longer the same.

He had a certain power, a fire in his iris that she had never seen before, that she couldn't identify.

But it was very different from the way Seungho looked at her as if she were his property.

Y/N's eyes went down to San's lips, they looked extremely inviting and she wondered if it still tasted the same, the attention she returned to San's mouth didn't go unnoticed by him as he wet his lips with his own tongue.

Before she could get even closer to him, Y/N blinked a few times until she remembered where she was and who she was with, if Seungho arrived at that moment it wouldn't be good, especially for San.

Thinking about it, against every cell in her body she pulled away from San and his touch.

“Have a good day, San.”

She got out of there as quickly as her feet would allow her before she did something she would regret later, she didn't look back and was thankful once again that she was without security guards.

She arrived at reception and Seungho was leaning on the counter with his phone to his ear.

“Y/N!” he called with his free hand and turned his attention to someone else on the other end of the line. “Matt, I already took care of all that.” She approached him paying attention to the conversation, it was probably something related to their return. “You know she's good for much more than that. Okay, I’ll be there.” he hung up, huffing.

"Problems?" Y/N asked without the slightest interest.

“I have to receive a load today from the other side of town and they require my presence.” he informed, irritated.

“I’ll go upstairs and get our bags then.” she pointed to the elevator and was ready to go when he stopped her, raising his hand.

“No, Y/N.” he scratched his head and she knew something was wrong. “I haven’t finished the entire transaction with San yet.” she crossed her arms, waiting for him to finish. “And you know this hotel does business with me.”

"I know that."

That part of the city was heavily influenced by Seungho. Hotels, banks, even the hospital operated when and how he wanted.

“A luxurious dinner will be held to welcome Mr. Choi.”

“What’s all this-” she frowned.

“I need you to accompany him to this party and explain that I had an unforeseen event but we will finish tomorrow when I arrive.” he interrupted her and Y/N felt her expression fall.

Would she be alone with San for a whole night by his side?

"What?" She didn't want to show despair but it had become difficult after that. “No… I can’t… I can’t.”

Explaining to him what was really going through her head was out of the question.

“I need this partnership. Matt will be with me and you are the only one who can be here representing me.”

“Postpone receiving the load then.” she shrugged and he took a deep breath, visibly irritated. “I’m not you, I don’t have to deal with your business.”

It wasn't part of the role she had played in those years. For business, she was just the statue that if she winked at the partners, with the right clothes, she could make them close the deal faster.

Seungho was too jealous to let her be alone with a man for two hours, let alone an entire night.

This then meant that whatever the deal was with San, he didn't want to risk losing it.

Annoyed, he held Y/N by her arm with a somewhat unnecessary force, making her look into his eyes, to see that he was serious.

“I'm not asking you to accompany him, I'm ordering you to.” In fear, she lowered her head, giving up. “Don’t worry, my love.” He got closer and his mouth met her ear. “Tomorrow we will have all day to make up for the time we lost.”

She wanted to laugh but held back, sleeping with him was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

In fact, her mind was too busy with images of San in a suit.

[...]

Y/N spent the entire afternoon getting ready for dinner at the hotel with the help of a small team that Seungho hired to make her look magnificent.

Small because she had begged him, she wasn't a Hollywood actress after all, a football team taking care of her appearance for a simple dinner was unnecessary.

He had made it very clear before leaving that she must use every trick to convince San to wait until tomorrow. For Seungho, this was her only role, to seduce his partners.

Seduce, never go to bed with them.

Because for Seungho, she had to have her eyes focused only on him, and according to his theory, the more instigated to have Y/N, the more the partners would be committed to maintaining an agreement.

Basically, she was there to make these men fools, believing that one day they could have something with her behind Seungho's back.

At eight o'clock at night she was ready and couldn't deny that the job had been well done.

The red dress was long with a strap on one side and a detail at the waist that made it much more elegant, black sandals on her feet and ruby earrings that Seungho had given her, like the countless expensive jewelry she had been receiving in recent years.

She believed that he gifted her with expensive and luxurious things just to keep her with him, as if it made her wonder if she could live without flaunting the good life she had achieved.

Each piece of jewelry increased her indifference towards him, because it made her feel like she had been bought by him again.

The makeup had highlighted Y/N's face in an elegant way and she insisted on wearing red lipstick, she was trying her best to do the job, finally her hair was left loose but left aside.

She even tried to take a deep breath when she left the room but she couldn't lie to herself in that situation, she was nervous. More than that, she was anxious!

Seungho had left one of his security guards to take care of her, of course he wouldn't be that stupid, but when she arrived at the main hall and saw San smiling at some people he was talking to friendly, Y/N totally forgot about security or anything else.

It would be cliché to say that she couldn't take her eyes off him, but it was the truth, he looked wonderful. Breathtaking.

He wasn't as formal as he was in the morning, he was wearing a suit but without a blazer, just a black vest, the sleeves of his white blouse were rolled up to his elbows with the first two buttons open and his tie was slightly loosened.

He had his hair pulled back but with a few strands in his face.

God, even if he tried hard for 20 years he wouldn't be able to get ugly.

San realized he was being watched and looked towards Y/N, smiling brightly at her and he came to meet her quickly.

“Miss Y/N.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, like a perfect gentleman and it was enough to make her heart skip a beat, and her legs tremble slightly. “You look gorgeous.”

She smiled restrainedly.

“Thank you, Mr. Choi, I must say you look really nice too.” she tried to keep her tone formal to keep the theater for security.

"Would you like something to drink?" he looked at the security guard and she understood what he was planning.

"Of course." she replied and he put his arm through hers, she looked at the security guard who was watching them closely. “You don’t need to follow me, I’m fine.” she ordered and he agreed, stopping where he was and San took her away.

“The compliment was true.” he said without looking at her face.

"So was mine." she replied quietly, feeling her cheeks burn.

“You got a babysitter from your boyfriend, huh?”

Y/N could feel the jealousy in his voice and it made her smile discreetly.

“The babysitter isn’t for me, it’s for you.”

They arrived at the mini bar and he ordered two drinks.

“Is he afraid you’ll fall for my charms?” he turned to face her and got closer, making Y/N get lost in his scent.

That was it, she was intoxicated by everything about him. The smell, his voice, the heat of his body, which wasn't enough because she knew he was much hotter than that, she just needed to get closer.

“Actually, he’s afraid you’ll run away.”

“And you’re here to make sure I stay?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

She searched in her head a decent answer but all that came out was just the truth.

“I’m here to make you stay.” she said even though she wished she could do otherwise.

If she had the power, she would make San move far away from her and Seungho, for his own good.

“And how do you intend to do that?” he took a step forward, their bodies practically touching. It was incredible, it seemed like he could read her mind.

Because she wanted to get closer, enough to put her hands on his broad shoulders.

“He asked me to seduce you.” she replied quietly and couldn't take her eyes off his mouth.

“Can you do it or will I seduce you first?”

Y/N didn't imagine that San would be so sexy like that and as dangerous as that game was, she was loving it.

What she remembered was a much shyer and not so confident San.

She held back the urge to bite her lip.

“You’re going to need a lot more than whispers to seduce me.”

Of course, as if she could convince herself of that.

He had just approached her and she was already feeling weak in the knees.

“That’s what we’ll see.” San smirked and walked away at the exact moment the bartender brought the drinks.

He handed the drink to Y/N who drank some while observing the room.

She managed to identify at least three more Seungho's bodyguard, and it wasn't surprising since she knew he would never leave just one of his men watching her.

Not when she had already tried to escape from him a few times in the past, without success, obviously.

No matter where she went, whoever she asked for help, Kim always found her and brought her back.

She was so lost in her analysis that she didn't notice when San brought his mouth to her ear to whisper.

“Can I show you something?”

She suppressed a smile and took a deep breath before looking at him, seeing him smile so close to her.

His smile still had the same effect on her, as if the sun had risen in the cloudy sky. It was the light in the midst of darkness.

It wasn't like she had the strength to deny it.

He held out his free hand and she took it, being led out of the room soon after.

The party took place near the pool and only a thick, red curtain separated the two places, Y/N sighed as she observed the full moon, which was brighter than usual, she had never seen it so beautiful.

San let go of her hand only to sit on one of the lounge chairs, she turned to face him when she felt the touch disappear and came closer but still remained standing.

“What did you want to show me?” she asked, quite curious.

“Nothing, I just wanted to be alone with you.” he confessed, resting his hands behind his head after placing the drink on the floor.

Y/N swallowed hard at the movement, as his arms were in evidence and she thought it more prudent to remain silent, this time returning her gaze to the crystal clear water of the pool, feeling not only her cheeks heat up but also her heart.

It seemed like even if she wanted to bury the old version of her that night, she couldn't.

“I know it’s been years, but I want you to know that I never gave up on you.”

She looked at him at the same moment, San didn't take his eyes off her and spoke with such conviction that it left her speechless.

All she wanted was to be able to throw herself into his lap and kiss him all at once. Only if the situation had been different, if they hadn't met again like that...

But time wasn't fair to them, it wasn't in the past and it wasn't now.

“I think I prefer it when you flirt with me.” Unable to contain herself, she spoke out loud and wanted to beat herself up for it.

“I can do that too.” he shrugged, getting up from the lounge chair. “I can do a lot of things.” He got closer and she felt her body go still at the short distance. This was the time she should take a step back, right? “Especially the ones you want.” she felt his hand on her wrist, going up her elbow in a pleasant way and making goose bumps go up her arm.

Damn it.

Y/N held the glass tightly, trying her best to remember what she was there for and especially what she shouldn't do.

San noticed the tension and took the dronk out of her hand, ending the sudden affection, placing it on the floor but Y/N wasn't prepared for what would come next, thinking he would just stare deeply at her like he had been doing.

But one of his hands found her waist while his mouth found her cheek, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the warm skin.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that.” She closed her eyes, letting herself go for a few seconds.

“Afraid to like it?” he asked close to her ear and his mouth went down to Y/N's chin, involuntarily one of her hands tightened on the arm that was holding her waist.

"This is wrong." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

It was? Wasn't she on board with Kim's plan?

“But you want that." He bit her chin, and she could feel him smiling.

"No." although her mouth said something, Y/N's body said the exact opposite. She dug her nails into San's arm and felt her body getting weaker and weaker.

She mentally begged him to kiss her and end that miserable tension.

“Y/N…” she stifled a moan when she heard her name being spoken so quietly by San’s seductive voice.

It was wrong and dangerous, but why did it feel so right?

She felt that San was about to kiss her, she felt his breath against her mouth and no matter how much her rational side screamed for her to stay away, her emotional side was controlling everything because that was what she wanted from the moment she saw him in the morning.

She had missed so much being in his arms, feeling loved, protected.

She felt San's lips so close, her own hands going up to his shoulders and she was ready to give in, when his lips touched hers just enough to make a slight tickle, the image of Seungho with a gun appeared in her head.

"No!"

Y/N pushed San and suddenly he no longer held her, not even his perfume covered the radius they were in, she opened her eyes to find him startled.

She took two steps back, placing her hands on her forehead, now regaining lucidity.

What was she thinking? How could she think of putting him in danger like that?

“Don’t do that” she trembled, feeling her eyes tear up. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“But, Y/N…” he took a step towards her and she raised her hand, asking him to stop right there.

He obeyed, confused and hurt.

"You wouldn't understand." she shook her head to get the image of Seungho finishing him off from her mind.

“Maybe if you explained it I could.”

She ran her hand over her own arm, not knowing what to say. If he continued to insist, she would eventually give in and things wouldn't end well.

San followed the movement and his eyes stopped at a specific place.

“What’s that scar on your arm?” he asked and she automatically stared at her own skin.

Y/N blamed herself for not choosing a long-sleeved dress, mainly because the scar was recent so it was lighter and she hadn't even remembered about it.

"I need to go." Once again she deviated from the subject, if she continued there she would end up saying everything she shouldn't have and that was definitely out of the question.

She would never forgive herself if something happened to San because she had told him everything, even if that was her wish. To finally clear things up, after so long.

She ran out of there as best she could, avoiding passing through the room where that damn party was taking place and hoped that San wouldn't go after her, deep down she knew he would leave her alone after that outburst but she only became calmer when the elevator doors closed with a bang, her inside that cubicle.

Unable to control it any longer, she let the tears she had been holding back for a long time fall, it seemed like an eternity before she arrived at the presidential suite.

She stumbled into the elevator because of her tears and took the opportunity to take off her heels right there, she no longer cared about her appearance as she had been taken care of for hours. Seungho's plan hadn't worked anyway so screw the party, the appearances and all that stupid luxury.

When she arrived, she threw her heels in any corner of the huge, cold room as she closed the door behind her, ran her fingers through her hair and took off her dress without any will.

All she wanted most was to lie in bed and sleep for a good twenty years.

And even she tried, she knew it wouldn't be easy to sleep that night, not after everything that had happened and to make even worse, everything she had tried to forget about the past was playing intensely in her head.

The memories she had with San, all the first times with him, from when they met until the day she broke up with him, her happy childhood and her difficult adolescence of having to deal with her father's addiction that affected the entire family.

Hugging the pillow, she let the tears fall again as she lay there alone once again, as it had been repeating since her father had spoken the harsh words that had changed her life.

[...]

It was already past 10 am when Y/N decided to leave the room and go to the pool, the weather was nice to take a few dips and that would help her forget everything that had happened, at least for a few hours until she was away from that hotel.

She put on a very simple white bikini, a long white button-down blouse so she wouldn't be walking around the hotel with nothing covering her body, white flip-flops and big glasses to hide the dark circles under her eyes from last night.

Luckily for her the pool area was empty and Seungho's security hadn't come after her so far, which meant she was free for who knows how long, she left her things on one of the sun loungers and her sunglasses were also left behind.

It didn't take long to enjoy the warm water, trying to wash away any traces of guilt and uncertainty.

After wetting her hair and swimming a little, she leaned against the edge, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin as if it were giving her strength back.

She tried not to think about anything, just wanted to enjoy some time she didn't usually have, alone and quiet with her own conscience.

She felt the water become more agitated but she didn't pay any attention, she was feeling so light that she didn't even care that someone was there too.

The pool was big enough for that.

However, when she realized that someone was too close, she couldn't help but open her eyes and look at whoever it was.

Y/N need to rest her arms on the edge of the pool when she saw San standing in front of her with a shy smile and no shirt.

She had a very privileged view of San's bare torso, she knew he had gotten stronger but she couldn't imagine how much and she couldn't even disguise the way her eyes observed San's broad and strong shoulders, going down his chest. She couldn't see his abs clearly because the water was getting in the way of having a clear view of how defined he was, but realizing that he was there in just black swim trunks made her lose her train of thought completely.

Even with the water distorting a little, she could see how thick his thighs were.

Okay, San had turned into a personification of some Greek god and she couldn't stop looking at him to burn every bit of him into her memory, which conflicted when she remembered what he was like in the past.

She had never imagined that he could be so… hot.

She cleared her throat, trying unsuccessfully to hide it, and looked away, missing the opportunity to see his raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” she spoke quietly.

“I was worried about you.” he admitted firmly and she swallowed hard.

“Let’s not talk about last night, please.” she pleaded, sighing and looking back at him.

San was serious, not mad at her, but he seemed to be trying to figure her out.

“We will need to talk one day, Y/N.”

“If that's why you came here…” she started to leave, but was stopped by San who put his arm on the edge of the pool and brought his body closer to hers, still without truly touching her. "What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be impatient.

He put his other arm on the other side, trapping her there and Y/N had nothing to do but look him in the eyes.

“Does he hit you?” it was simple and direct, making her jaw drop slightly.

"What…?" She released a breath that until then she hadn't even realized she had been holding. "Who?" She tried to pretend she didn't understand.

San cocked his head to the side, only to stare at her more intensely.

“Kim Seungho.” he spoke the name between his teeth. “Does he hit you, Y/N?” he asked, this time his tone became more serious and his eyes locked with hers.

He already knew the answer without her even answering, but he wasn't going to give up so easily because the only thing he needed was for her to tell the truth and then they could find an alternative.

"No!" she replied desperately, her voice became even thinner. “I mean, where did you get that idea?” she crossed her arms, trying to be defensive but she was actually scared.

If San found out the truth, she didn't know what he might do.

“That scar wasn’t made for a silly reason and now seeing you in that bikini, in addition to seeing that your body is still beautiful, I can also see some purple on your legs and belly.”

She swallowed hard, trying to think quickly of a convincing answer.

“The scar… I've had it since, uh, I was a kid” she forced her throat to stop stuttering but his attentive eyes weren't helping. “and the purple ones… well, I’m very distracted.”

“Do you think I don’t remember all your scars, Y/N?” He brought his face closer to hers and she didn't have the strength to turn away. “I had the image of your body in my head for years, I remember every inch of you.” she felt her body shiver and sighed slowly. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. Please." he pleaded.

One of her hands touched Y/N's face, making a pleasant caress and she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes when she felt the soft touch.

“That’s a low blow.” she spoke quietly, fighting her eyes that insisted on closing.

"And yeah?" she could feel he was smiling. “You know, I remember you loved a kiss below your ear.”

Of course she loved it mainly because only he knew about it.

She couldn't think about much or open her eyes because his mouth was already practicing what his voice announced.

Y/N put her hand on San's shoulder and found that the sun did a great job of warming their bodies, but their skin wasn't the only thing that was hot there.

Her hand squeezed San's exposed skin, suppressing a moan as she felt his breath right next to her neck. She was unable to reason with that sudden approach, nor even breathe properly like a normal person.

"So?" he asked, lips touched her skin as he spoke but Y/N was too lost in that sensation to remember what his question was.

San moved his face away and she opened her eyes at the same moment, missing the contact, he looked at her, urging her to respond.

"What?" was all she could say.

“Y/N, I’m waiting for an answer.” He raised an eyebrow and she felt her legs tremble again.

Her mouth suddenly became dry and she had to use her own tongue to wet it, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by San.

“Do you think… I have the capacity… to talk after this?” she was panting and hadn't even kissed him.

San laughed softly, his dimple showing.

“Good to know I still have some power over you.” he said, cocky.

“It’s so much more than that, Sannie.” he smiled sadly at the old nickname. “I have always loved you and I will always love you.” her hands went to his face, making him look deep into her eyes. “But I can’t tell you, forgive me.” she said, seeing him take a deep breath. “Please don’t continue with this transition, cancel this damn partnership. This is all too dangerous and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I just…” she looked down, unable to continue, water was calm but a storm was still coming.

San brought a hand to her chin, making their eyes meet again.

"Just…?" he urged her to continue.

“I’m afraid of losing you again.” she confessed, straightforward.

San didn't say anything and neither did she dare continue, she had already said too much, he then brought his face closer to hers and ended that distance once and for all, Y/N could only close her eyes when San's soft and warm lips touched hers. So softly that it made her sigh against the kiss.

He didn't deepen the kiss or move his lips, he kept the touch for a few seconds that lasted for eternity and Y/N felt her eyes water even though they were closed, the hand that was still on Y/N's chin went down to her the back of her neck when he broke the kiss and her heart seemed to want to jump out of her mouth, she didn't even know how she was still standing.

Without the courage to open her eyes, because she knew she would cry like a child in front of him, Y/N didn't expect San to hug her so tightly that it sounded like a goodbye, the kind that leaves you breathless.

She grabbed him by the neck and rested her face on his shoulder while the tears ran down her face and got lost on San's skin, she could have stayed there hugging him forever.

San ran his hands down her spine and caressed her, feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Y/N closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of being safe even if for that brief moment.

The sun burning on their skin lasted as long as the hug, which none of them had any idea how long it had lasted, but it had been enough to strengthen Y/N.

“Never forget what I said.” she spoke quietly and walked away, feeling cold and empty again when she no longer had San's warmth surrounding her, and swam towards the stairs.

She wanted to keep that image of him smiling and welcoming her, that was the reason she didn't look back as she got out of the pool and picked up her things from where she had left them.

She hoped that one day San would understand why she kept a secret from him and who knows, he could even one day forgive her. 

She knew that she had hurt him in the past but it wasn't because she was cruel, she was just trying to protect the one she loved. Including San.

She looked at her feet on the way back to reception and was ready to go to her room, but that wasn't exactly what happened.

A pair of expensive shoes stopped in front of her, stopping her from continuing on her way and she would have been rude if she hadn't been taken by surprise.

Seungho was in front of her with his arms crossed and his expression not at all pleasant.

“Beautiful scene, I think it deserves applause.” his voice was cold and he didn't even blink, she knew what was coming next and even so it didn't stop her from starting to shake with fear. “I’m just going to ask once, what the fuck was that?”

[...]

Y/N tried not to sob loudly but despair and fear were speaking louder this time, she didn't even know which floor she was on and she couldn't even think about stepping into reception.

With all of Seungho's security guards downstairs, all that was left for her was to sit on the floor of one of the floors of that hotel while she felt weak and helpless.

She brought her hand to her mouth to try to muffle the sound but when she felt liquid in the corner, she pulled it away and stared at the blood on her finger.

Her blood wouldn't be the only one that would be spilled, she felt anger take over her body and rubbed her hand with the other to try to get the blood out.

“Y/N?”

She looked to the side and even though her vision was blurry because of her tears, she recognized San and sighed with relief. 

San knelt in front of her and touched her chin, the lighting in the hallway was low but it didn't stop him from noticing some things, Y/N brought a hand to San's face to make sure he was really there with her.

"What happened to you?" He made to put his hand on her face but decided not to when he saw the tears that were still flowing. "Come with me."

He picked her up slowly, Y/N felt my ribs throb but ignored it as she wrapped his arms around his neck.

He walked to the end of the hallway and opened the door to one of the rooms, from which she could see that it was the one he was staying in. 

San placed her carefully on the edge of the bed and ran to lock the door, turning on the light in the room and Y/N's eyes watered even more.

In addition to irritation, shame too.

“Can you turn off the light, please?” her voice was weak and choked, she saw San's shoulders sag and looked away from him.

He did as she asked, leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned with a first aid kit.

Y/N took a deep breath and he approached, kneeling in front of her and held her gaze, when she saw that he wasn't going to say anything she looked at him and nodded, accepting that he would treat her injuries.

San did everything necessary and when she hissed in pain, he gently stroked her arm, looking closely at her.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” asked quietly after a quite time in silence, she noticed that he was controlling himself to remain calm.

Without the courage to respond and without any confidence in her own voice, she just nodded, listening to him take two deep breaths.

“How long has this been going on?” Y/N stared at him firmly this time, seeing him with his jaw clenched.

She wasn't ready to hear the answer but it was fair to him, even more so now that he was in danger.

"7 years." she replied quietly, shrugging her shoulders.

San got up from the ground, scratching the back of his head and then clenching his fists.

“That’s since…” his breathing got heavier. Since she had broken up with him, yes. “Y/N, you need to report this guy.” He knelt in front of her again and looked into her eyes, which were already teary again. “You need to step away.”

Carefully, San held her hands, bringing the comfort she needed at the moment.

"I can't."

"You must." he encouraged her and she shook her head, looking in any corner of the room.

“San, I can’t.”

"And why not?" he asked in disbelief.

“Seungho is influential. If I send him to jail for a few days, he might…” she trailed off, completely panicked just thinking about the possibility.

"Might what?" he instigated, he needed an answer and one that would convince him.

“Go after the one I love.” a sob was stuck in her throat. “You don’t understand, San. I have no choice, I can’t betray him, I can barely say no to him.”

He slowly pulled away and she took the opportunity to bring her hand to her face, wiping away the trail of tears.

Her head hurt, her eyes burned, her body was tired and she didn't know what to do. She was terrified.

"What do you mean by that?" He narrowed his eyes and she looked down, already knowing where he was going. “Can’t you say no to anything?”

She nodded silently.

It was difficult to speak out loud, even more so to relive everything she had been through with Seungho in recent years, even though she felt absolutely nothing for him other than contempt, touching those wounds hurt.

“If I dare to say no, this happens.” she pointed to her face.

San looked at her worriedly, his gaze more attentive than ever.

“Y/N…” she fell silent, waiting for him to continue. “Did he force you to do something you didn’t want to?”

San didn't need to say or emphasize the specific word because she didn't need to, she just lowered her head in shame. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"Yes." Y/N didn't even hear her own voice admit it.

All that seemed to have been enough for him, who was now shaking and keeping his hands clenched, the vein in his neck was popping out and he stared at the wall behind Y/N with hatred.

“I will kill him with my own hands.” he spoke slowly, getting ready to get up

"No!" she held San by the hand, preventing him from taking any steps. “San please don’t go.”

She despaired. That's what Kim was wanting.

After having "taught her a lesson", Seungho was very clear that he wouldn't stop until he killed San for having dared to touch what was his, for having had the audacity to kiss Y/N.

She couldn't even say anything, it wasn't like she was going to tell the truth about San's identity or else things would be much worse. Seungho wouldn't only kill San, he would torture him for finding out that he was the one she loved.

And she knew he wasn't joking, his bodyguards were in the lobby to make sure San wouldn't leave there. It didn't matter if he was alive or dead.

"Don't ask me-"

“Don’t leave me here alone.” She tried to get out of bed in a hurry but all she managed to do was trip over her own feet thanks to her throbbing leg.

San was faster and held her by the waist, helping her sit on the bed again very carefully.

“Y/N, don’t get up.” His hand stopped on her thigh, checking if she was okay.

“I just want to forget everything that happened.” she sighed, looking at him sadly.

Maybe it wasn't the best time for it, but San was the only person who could make her forget even her own name and that's what she needed.

“I want to be your Y/N again.” she touched his face, the words seemed to have an effect on him, he understood what she meant but was reluctant. “I just want to feel your touch, even if it’s for one night.”

Y/N's hands slowly trailed down his neck to his hard pecs and his eyes wavered momentarily.

“You’re hurt,” he reminded, voice lower. “I can't-” she put her finger to his mouth, shushing him.

“The only thing I can’t take anymore is this distance.”

San swallowed hard and held her wrist, still undecided whether to push her away or not. It was clear that he wanted this as much as she did, but he was afraid of hurting her.

“I thought that’s what you wanted to do in that pool.”

He looked at her firmly, reading if she had any trace of doubt, but when he realized that she was convinced of what she wanted, he brought his body closer to hers so slowly that it left her intoxicated and his hands went to her waist. 

His eyes focused on her mouth and he brought their faces closer, leaving her anxious for what was to come.

But San didn't rush things, quite the opposite, still without putting their lips together he ran his nose along the length of Y/N's face from one side to the other, feeling the soft texture of her skin against him, one he had never forgotten.

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, her hands still on San's chest, and her heart beat even faster when she felt his lips gently touch hers, making her grab his shirt.

San kissed her carefully and affectionately, his warm, wet lips dictated a slow rhythm that indicated he was just savoring and making up for the time they had lost.

San broke the kiss and she was already panting, without the strength to open her eyes, and then he started a new kiss a little faster.

Y/N took the opportunity to bring him closer, pressing their bodies together and made him move, leaning forward, taking his hands from her waist to rest on the bed as their tongues finally met again, thirstier than ever.

Y/N hugged him around the waist with her legs while her hands went to his back, while San took the opportunity to rest his elbows on the mattress so that his body weight wouldn't hurt her.

He treated her like a porcelain doll, fragile to the point of breaking and although she found all that care very cute, it still wasn't what she wanted.

So, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, that useless piece of clothing was just getting in the way anyway, he broke the kiss just so he could take it off while her hands went back to his chest, going down to his abdomen that she stroked.

She felt his skin crawl between her fingers and smiled, now she could see perfectly how much he had worked out over the last few years and she just couldn't stop feeling the texture of his warm skin, as if she could memorize every inch.

"Surprised?" he asked, his husky voice making every hair in Y/N's body stand on end.

She bit her lower lip.

“Not quite the word I would use.”

San laughed softly and brought his face to her neck, where he began to distribute wet, hot kisses, making her rub her hips against his and scratch his abdomen while she closed her eyes.

“There’s someone desperate here.” he confirmed and bit her earlobe, making her squeak softly.

Not because it hurt, but because she liked it. Very much.

“You teased me enough at that party” she replied and he decided to move the kisses to her chin, smiling.

"Thank you love. Red looks great on you too.” He bit her chin as he spoke, now kissing her neck and chest even further. “But I prefer you in that bikini.” He moved the neckline of the dress she was wearing enough to sink his nose between her breasts and her hands automatically went to the back of his head. “Or maybe without it.”

One of San's hands found the end of her dress and began to lift the fabric, he moved his own torso enough to be able to remove the piece from her, which she desperately helped him pass over her own arms.

He took the opportunity to kneel on the bed and observe her in just her underwear, she felt not only her cheeks but her entire body heat up, he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, enough for her to forget the bruises on her face and body.

He tilted his body to stay on top of her, still without letting all his weight fall on her, he distributed kisses along the entire length of her shoulder while she sighed, she was at his mercy and just wanted to enjoy the caresses he distributed over her skin.

San could do whatever he wanted with her. It could be dangerous, uncertain and even wrong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight it and being there with him, she knew she would be okay.

After years she would finally be where she always dreamed, back in his arms being enveloped by the love he still showed for her, which seemed to be ever greater than the last time.

There with him, sighing and moaning his name, it was as if no time had passed.

[...]

Y/N slowly woke up, her body still hurt and her eyes burned from the brightness of the room. So she brought her hands to her face to rub her eyes. 

It was then that noticed she wasn't in the presidential suite, patted the other side of the bed that was empty and remembered the night before.

Taking the sheet that covered her body with her, she sat on the bed, brushing her hair away from her face and at the same moment San came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

She smiled discreetly as she stared at his bare and strong torso, memories of the previous night flooded her mind and her cheeks burned.

She had no reason to be shy, but she really was after what they had done last night.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." San smiled widely and came over to give her a peck.

"Good morning." She replied and he stopped, looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing, it's just that… it's good waking up with you by my side."

She smiled, feeling like a fool in love.

"You say like you never slept with me."

"Well, when we were dating everyone thought we didn't sleep together." he shrugged and sat next to her on the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That we were two inexperienced innocents.”

"That's because no one knew you were a pervert." she replied jokingly and his fingers moved to her shoulder, giving her a nice caress.

"You didn't complain about that pervert." He pouted and she laughed, tilting her head.

"Because I love him." she replied, moving closer to kiss him.

However, before they could make an intense noise of sirens could be heard throughout the hotel.

Y/N pulled away, scared looking around as if she could guess what was happening and San sighed.

"What is that?" she asked more to herself and watched as he got up from the bed.

"I wish I had told you sooner."

She frowned.

"Told what?" asked but San didn't respond immediately, he approached the suitcase that was on top of the armchair in the room and opened it, taking the towel off his waist and leaving himself in just his underwear in front of Y/N who was watching him curiously.

She saw San put on dark pants and then a white t-shirt, which really highlighted his torso, but the shock came when he took off a vest and she felt her jaw drop when she realized it was bulletproof, she knew because she saw the word police written on the front. 

Feeling her head spin, she had to put her hand on the bed to keep herself standing, or in this case, sitting.

"San, what is this?" the weak voice asked and he finished putting on his shoe.

"Come with me." he asked and she looked at him confused. "Do you trust me?"

She didn't even need to think about the answer.

"Always."

San approached the bed and reached out to her, Y/N held it and got up from the bed.

He separated his own clothes for her to wear besides her thin dress and she did so, still not understanding what was happening, San made her wear a blazer that looked huge on her but covered most of the bruises on her arm.

He took her out of the room and they took the elevator, she was distressed because San didn't say what was happening even there alone, keeping his hand on her waist and his expression too calm.

She was already internally biting her cheek and when she got out of the elevator she saw that the place was full of police officers, uniformed and armed.

Y/N followed with her gaze a police officer who passed in front of her with a very large gun, hearing San's low laugh that made her continue walking forward.

In the hotel lobby, she was able to get a sense of the situation. Several of Seungho's henchmen were kneeling on the floor with their hands on top of their heads while some of the police officers watched them quite angrily, others walked around the hotel looking for something.

"Detective Choi."

Y/N turned her head so fast it made a noise, San patted her back before reaching out to the approaching police officer.

"Kang." he greeted his colleague, adopting a more serious pose.

"Everything is in order, the evidence and witnesses are being taken now."

San nodded and the officer turned his attention to Y/N. "And Miss-"

"Don't worry, I'll walk her to the police station myself." San spoke firmly as her eyes widened.

Police station? Would she go to the police station?

The police officer nodded and left, leaving San and Y/N alone.

"What is happening?" she asked quietly, and he held her shoulders gently.

"Follow me." she wanted to understand what was happening but his eyes said that everything would be fine and she believed it.

That's why she silently agreed and let San take her outside, towards a black car, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in without question. San got in on the other side and started the car while Y/N put her hands together to play with her fingers, waiting for him to start talking.

“Where do you want me to start?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the street.

Y/N shrugged, laughing lightly.

"You are cop." she confirmed and looked at him, seeing him nod his head.

“When you broke up with me 7 years ago, I knew something was wrong.” he took a deep breath. “I was always convinced that you would never do that to me if you didn't have a very strong reason, we always talked about plans for our future and one night you just didn't want it anymore?” He glanced at her, seeing that she was immersed in the explanation, he continued “The next day, I returned to your house, I was determined to talk to you more calmly but when I arrived at the corner I saw that you were leaving with your bags from home, what surprised me most was the fact that you said goodbye to your mother but you didn't even look at your father's face.”

Y/N took a deep breath. That scene of saying goodbye to her parents was like a blur in her head, the only thing she remembered was that she began to understand the meaning of being alone.

“Your father was your hero, your rock and you simply ignored him before getting into a car that had never been in your house before.”

“It wasn’t the easiest day of my life.” she commented, resting her head on the car seat.

“I know, me either.” San stopped the car at the traffic lights and turned to face her. “That’s why after I saw you driving away in that car, I knocked on the door.”

Y/N's jaw dropped.

"What?"

“Your mother answered, she was devastated but it seemed like she knew I was going to show up, when I walked in… Your father was drinking, he was crying and saying he had destroyed your life.”

Y/N felt her nose itch, indicating that her eyes were about to water.

“I asked them to explain to me what was happening, I don’t know, I wanted to be able to help in some way.” he shrugged and the car started moving again, with San turning his attention to the street again. “Your father told me he bet you on a game, that he was an addict and that he had lost the only thing that mattered. At first I didn’t want to believe it.” he laughed, humorlessly. “That was the script for an Italian mobster movie, but your mother confirmed the version and said they were forced to hand it over to you or else everyone would suffer the consequences.”

She took a deep breath, staring into space.

That was the truth.

She never chose Seungho, she was forced to or he would start killing everyone she loved, starting with her father. 

“After a few days of crying like a teenager I was, I went to talk to Hongjoong. His uncle was a police officer and heard the story, he told me who the Kim family was and what Seungho was capable of since at the time he was starting to take over a good part of the west of the city. He told me that there were rumors among the police that he had gone after your father and instigated his addiction to cards because he wanted to have you.” she swallowed. She already knew this version of the story and still reacted the same way. “He had become obsessed with you and had done everything on purpose. I was so angry, I had never felt such hatred as I did that day. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that.”

Y/N looked at him, there was a certain anger in San's words and his jaw was clenched.

“That day I promised myself that I would take revenge, that I would make him pay for everything he had done to you, for stealing your life. Our life.”

San looked at her and smiled sadly.

“And I joined the police, I wanted to do things the right way.” she smiled lightly, it was obvious to her. San was always very correct. “But it wasn’t that easy. I needed to prove to everyone that I was capable, I went through a lot of things in the police to reach the day when I would finally have the opportunity to start investigating the Kim family.”

“And you didn’t deny that chance.” It wasn't a question.

San parked the car and she looked outside, seeing that they were already at the police station, he rested his arm on the steering wheel and turned towards her.

“I couldn’t, we would only have this opportunity to catch him. He didn't know my face, he didn't know who I was, we created a way to bring our team closer to him. And it worked, he believed it.”

She took off her belt and turned to San.

“You already knew you would find me.”

He nodded and held one of her hands, giving it a gentle caress.

“I know it will seem strange but I followed your every step, It was part of the investigation.”

She felt a shiver run down the back of her neck.

“Am I going to be arrested?”

San pressed his lips together in a thin line and brought his hand to caress her face.

“No, you are the main witness in this case, everyone knows that you were just one of his victims. With all the evidence I've gathered, you're all clear. But you need to tell the police everything you know.”

Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.

“Okay, if that’s what I have to do to end this story once and for all.” she nodded and he smiled widely at her. “What about last night…”

He laughed, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

“Well, you don’t need to say.”

She laughed too.

San approached and kissed her forehead, making her sigh.

“I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I thought it was impossible for me to love you more, but I do.” she shrugged and saw his eyes light up, just like they did last night. “If I stayed sane all these years, it was thanks to you.”

San kissed the tip of her nose.

“I would do anything for you, to keep you safe. I love you, Y/N.”

“What about us?”

"Us?" he pretended to think for a moment and she narrowed her eyes, smiling. “I think we still have a lot to make up for.”

[zchnlswrld]

(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS

🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite

if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!

ATEEZ/MULTIPLE

Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀

opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧

↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?

Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥

HONGJOONG

Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓

Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀

To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥

Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀

Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓

↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone

SEONGHWA

The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧

↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible

let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT

no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥

bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥

↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release

cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓

checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀

the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥

YUNHO

Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥

opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥

↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release

what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)

PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)

something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧

↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding

Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)

↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!

entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧

YEOSANG

no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀

RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧

↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this

for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧

↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j

SAN

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT

Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥

↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE

seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧

↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀

↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear

a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧

MINGI

Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀

↳ i did cry when i finished this

nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥

One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀

Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓

WOOYOUNG

Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥

Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓

change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓

place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧

↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl

If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀

JONGHO

so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧

↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now

killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓

glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓

zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this

20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓

the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧

↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID

[itstheghostofmypast]

One More Hour

Idol San x (f)Reader

Summary: If Choi San was sure about one thing, it was the love that occupied his heart, his love for her. She had become everything he needed, everything he believed in and everything he worshipped, not a thought that went by that wasn't followed by a thought about her. The only problem was, his undying love for her, was a secret known only to her, not the people he had been living with since his teens.

Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San, technically they're both hopelessly, dramatically inlove- i do not regret this)

Warnings: None

A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs

With her cheek squished against his cotton-clad chest, she felt his warmth slowly lull her to a state of blissful sleep, their heartbeat synchronized as he hummed a familiar, yet random tune, perhaps it wasn't the tune that was familiar but his melodic voice that could compete with angels.

She had long forgotten the plot of the movie, too engrossed by his presence, arms squeezing his waist, pressing herself closer into his side, his hand reaching to rest on top of her head, fingers caressing through her hair. It had been long since the two had spent time together like this, just enjoying each other's presence, basking in each other's warmth. So, when given the opportunity to take a day off, when everyone else had other things to do, he chose to stay at home alone, unknown to the rest of the members that instead of sleeping in, he had decided to spend the evening with his significant angel. Calling her over with a well-formulated plan, since everyone was leaving and coming in late, he had told her to drop by earlier and he'd drop her off before they arrived back home, meaning the two could spend some time together- both knowing even an eternity spent together wasn't enough.

It's not that he didn't want to tell them or that they wanted to keep it a secret, it's just that company at the dorm was… something noone preferred, possibly due to this being the only place of privacy they had. More importantly, he didn't want to introduce her as just her girlfriend, his brain had been buzzing with a certain idea he wasn't sure if she was comfortable with, which is why he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.

"Sannie…" her hushed voice rang in his ears, earning a hum in return she paused, eyes darting to the wall clock as a sigh escaped her lips, finally causing him to look away from the screen to scan her face, eyes tracing the subtle frown of her brows and pouted lips- "What's wrong-hey" he called out, trying to hold her still as she slipped away, sitting up straight, "Where are you going?" his own pout making its way to his face, mirroring the sad look in her eyes.

"It's six, Sannie, I need to get going before it gets too late," she mumbled, trying to make her way over his sprawled-out legs to the other side of the bed, only for him to gently push her down, ignoring her high pitched, over-dramatic squeak, climbing over her form as her head hit the soft mattress pinning her down, glaring up at him, his grip on her wrists tightened, pushing them down next to head. "Don't go." his whine not even remotely representing the death grip he had on her, his whole body engaging her, face pressed into the skin of her neck, lips pressing against her pulse, stretching into a smirk at the feeling of her breath hitching.

"One more hour," mumbling against her skin he traced his lips up the column of her neck to her jaw, trailing soft kisses to her ear, "I'll drop you home myself, just…one more hour."

"But Sannie- uff" her whine was cut off as the air was pushed out of her lungs, thanks to him putting his entire body weight on top of hers, rubbing his nose against her cheek, "You have been detained, due to the horrendous crime of breaking your boyfriend's heart."

"I'm about to die." wheezing out she tried to pull her hands out of his death grip or at least shove him off, only to fail and whine in defeat. His chest vibrated as a chuckle broke past his lips, proud at how all that time at the gym had paid off, before pulling himself off her, only to hover over her, his hands letting go of her wrists, to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her warm cheeks.

"Just one more hour," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling at how she scrunched her nose in response.

"Tempt me to stay."

Words that had no malice or implications, in truth she just meant food or a tasty treat, nothing else of any sort but a fact that slipped her mind. A thought and a fact about how the big, shy, feline-eyed man of hers was a pervert. A sinister smirk replaced his easy smile, eyes gleaming at the way her smile had faltered upon the realisation of the innuendo that could have been behind those words- mind you she had not intended for there to be any.

.

"You perv." was all she could manage to huff out, chest heaving after the tedious, tiring yet exhilarating session, staring up at the false ceiling in post haze. His pillow felt cold under her head, her body shivering, more from the buzz of the aftermath than the cold. Laying on his side he watched her features, the way her gaze seemed to be unfocused, lips slightly parted, cheeks puffed out and pink, propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to caress her cheek, neither concerned about the time anymore.

"Shower?"

"Yes please."

With a quick shower, the two had returned to their usual spot on the bed, after San had oh so kindly changed the sheets. He had forced her to wear his hoodie, only for her to insist he give her something to wear underneath too because it was cold and much to his displeasure he had to give his gym shorts, even after he had explained how he'd keep her legs warm even without anything, only to receive an "I've had enough of your nonsense for one day, Choi."

"What are you doing?" her words broke the comfortable silence, catching him in the act, and stopping him from pulling the covers over the two. She had allowed a cuddling session to commence but never approved of anything more, it was almost nine and she had to go- no, he said he'd drop her off- no, she'd rather go alone to avoid anything else.

"I thought we could rest…for a bit…you know…" clearing his throat he looked around, "After all that fun."

"And who decided to have that 'fun', huh?"

"You. It was actually you." with that he pulled her closer, holding her close as she struggled against him, "Don't worry, I set the alarm, just one more hour." she paused looking up at him, as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "Just one more hour, I promise."

.

"That was by far the worst film you could have ever forced us to watch." Mingi sighed, opening the door and entering the passageway, kicking his shoes off, followed by the others.

"It was an art film," Hongjoong argued, locking the door behind him, noting how Seonghwa had been neatly stacking everyone's shoes, in order only to pause at a pair of Converse, one that looked too small for any of them.

"It was SHIT, that's what it WAS." Wooyoung called out as he headed towards his room, "A bloody day off and we decide to let him plan it- SAN WAS SO SMART FOR NOT COMING." he stopped by the kitchen, before swinging open the fridge, "I mean I get it, it can be in French or whatever language, but why did the dude become a slug and- this bastard…"

"What's up?" Yunho asked, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, midnight snacks are important. Motioning to Yeosang who nodded, signaling for a serving as well.

Slamming the door closed Wooyoung turned around and glared at them, "The asshole ate my cakeslice!"

"You mean the toothpaste one?"

"Not funny Yunho.Not.F*cking.Funny!"With that he stomped out of the kitchen, probably to confront the criminal.

"What's his deal?" Mingi, who Wooyoung slammed his shoulder into, stumbled into the kitchen, earning an eye-roll from Yuho and a quiet "He's insane" from Yeosang.

"Not mine," Jongho mumbled, staring at the shoes, both his hyungs humming in agreement. Hongjoong looked at the two, "Did San have company over? He never said he would- is he seeing someone?"

"Not that I know of?" Seonghwa mumbled, glancing at Jongho who looked up at the door when they heard the familiar keypad beep. All three stared at the door as the person of conversation walked in, the cap of his hoodie covering most of his beanie-covered head, his bangs peeking out from beneath. Pulling his mask down he placed the plastic bag on the floor to kneel and untie his shoes, only to freeze at the sight of the many shoes before him, slowly glancing up to meet the gaze of the three most judgmental members.

"I can explain." he began only for Seonghwa to snort, "We didn't ask anything yet."

"Listen, she was meant to leave- I- we thought you'd come later-"

"Please tell me, she is not a professional." Hongjoong cut him off, rubbing his temples, they could not and did not, need a scandal of sorts.

"Of course not!" he snapped, before biting back his tongue at the way Hongjoong stared at him, correcting himself, "No… she’s not a fling or a hookup, I swear she's special and I-"

A shriek cut him off, alarming everyone else too, "Shit!" Bolting past them he ran to his room, noting the door was open and from inside he heard, none other than Wooyoung, "I AM SO SORRY! I SWEAR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"

"Yah! What did you do??" He growled, stomping in to find his girlfriend crouched on the ground next to the bed and Wooyoung with his eyes covered by the doorframe.

"I CAME HERE TO BEAT YOUR ASS AND THEN I SAW- "He paused at the whimper, "I MEAN I SAW YOU MISS- NOTHING ELSE I SWEAR!"

San crouched down beside her trying to pry her hands away from her face, only for her to glare at him with teary eyes and hiss, "You asshole." Trying to shove him away but he pulled her into his chest, eyeing his shorts that she was wearing on the ground, oh, so she was trying to change her clothes- honestly, he had only gone for 40 minutes. He had woken up as soon as the alarm rang but with his quick reflexes, he turned it off, wanting to spend a few more minutes with her, call him selfish, clingy or obsessed, none of them was wrong. After a few minutes, an idea popped up in his head, which is why he had decided to make a little trip to the bakery nearby, to bring her something.

"So, this is why you didn't come with us today?" Wooyoung finally looked at the two, her face still hidden in his chest, San's hoodie covering her form, her grip on his sweater tightening at the question. This was it, it was all over, she would either be asked to leave or forced to leave his life, they’d take away the only reason why she woke up in the morning, the only reason she still had hope in the future of humanity- call her over dramatic but that was just how much he meant to her. His scent, his body, his soul, if she could she would keep begging the stars to make sure they are bound together for an eternity, surrounded by him, to keep her grounded. Though that was a distant dream now, one that was going to be snatched out of her hands, the very hands that were pulling him even closer, in fear, if he were to be pulled away from her so be it, but she would savour the few seconds she had left with him, to imprint his being in her soul, a memory she could turn to on rainy days. She had hopped he had not picked up on this little anxious act, but how could San be San if he hadn’t, the moment the question had left Wooyoung’s lips, he had felt her grip on him tighten, his heart growing three sizes bigger at this very act of love and want. He had noticed how she was clinging onto him, no longer out of embarrassment or anger, but fear- fear of uncertainty, the fear he knew had accompanied him the first time he had asked her out, the first time he had kissed her, the first time he asked her to become an official couple- that very day he had promised himself to never put her in a position where this fear would become a reality, yet here they were, about to face this demon, together for the last time.

"Good choice. The film was shit."

Her head snapped up to meet Wooyoung’s casual gaze, who shrugged, “Seriously, certain art films should be banned, and I’d rather choose to stay at home with a lady than go out with Hongjoong any day.”

San smiled at his best friend, eyes watering at the note of acceptance and approval, delivered in the most Wooyoung manner, but words of affirmation that both needed to hear. Slowly standing up he pulled her up with him, letting her adjust the oversized hoodie, “Thanks man, I appreciate-”

His words were cut short as Wooyoung raised his hand, “Not you, bastard, I still want to stab you, not only for eating my slice of cake but also for not telling us beforehand you had a guest, now she’ll think I’m a creep.”

“I’m sure she already thinks so.” Yunho peered in from the doorway, smiling at the girl who shied away, moving behind her boyfriend, who glanced up at Yunho, “Also, Hongjoong called for a group meeting and you’re invited too!”

.

With her clothes changed, she sat a good distance from her boyfriend, hands in her lap, the same lap that seemed oh so interesting that she had been staring at it silently while San was trying to explain how they met.

“So, let me get this straight, you have been together for four years and you thought not telling us, your ‘brothers’, would be a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, staring- no- glaring at San.

“Four years, three months and 23 days actually…” he mumbled, before noticing the way she was staring at him, with the most, ‘what the f*ck, dude’ expression she could muster.

“Is he a good boyfriend?”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Are you into dumb dudes?”

“Have your parents met him?”

“Are they scared of his face?”

It was the last question that had her choking on her spit, trying to conceal the laughter, that increased in volume after his whines became more apparent, he knew what they were doing, they were embarrassing him on purpose- a form of payback.

“Yes, yes, I uh…guess so and yes they have met him and no they find him to be very good-looking.” Finally looking up at them she smiled gently, the nervous atmosphere around them, maybe this wasn’t so bad. At his point she was glad that they had accepted her, or rather had approved of their relationship, it was as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was free to love him with the certainty of them being together.

He was thrilled to see how everyone had absorbed this, he knew they’d give him hell once she left, but it wasn’t because they disliked her, no, it was due because of his cowardice. It was he who made all of them promise to be transparent, yet here he was keeping one of the most important people in his life a secret, putting strain on the relationship with his lover and his members. The issue was no longer whether they would accept her he had found a loophole for that, he wanted to introduce her to them, really did, but he wasn’t going to introduce her as ‘just his girlfriend’. San slowly moved closer, hands reaching out for hers only to pause and stare at her, “Wait, did you just say I’m dumb?”

“I uh-

“So, did you wait this long to tell us because you were going to propose first and then tell us?” Wooyoung cut her off as she choked on air, her boyfriend too busy trying to pat her back, his face dusted with pink, the tips of his ears burning at the embarrassment of being caught. Whispering to her, “You okay?”

She glanced up at him through her lashes, whispering back coyly, “Were you going to propose?”

“Yeah,” he gave her that million-dollar dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents, only to turn into cat-like slits with the most serious and judgemental expression, one that sent shivers down her spine. His head whipped in Wooyoung’s direction, “How did you know- oh you bastard.”

Holding the crumb-covered ring in his hand, showing it to everyone, his eyes met his best friend's glare, the plate of a half-eaten cake slice on his lap, an easy smirk making its way to his face, “That’s what you get for eating my slice.”

[halaboyz]

that and then, wooyoung

stranger! ateez wooyoung x gn! reader it's not angst i swear! it's fluff ^^ i think it falls under love at first sight? i'm not too sure about that wc: 2.1k warnings: food; no more that i know of a/n: brainrot brainrot brainrot (literally)

"I'm sorry, but your flight is delayed until tomorrow morning, and we can't find a way to reimburse you neither with hotel accommodations," You sigh, massaging your temple.

"Does that even make sense?"

"Does that even make sense?!" You and the guy on the other side of the control table ask (read: he shouted) at the same time, making you whip your head to his side.

He's just as stressed as you, yes.

Okay, maybe him a bit more.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait for a few more hours," The staff apologetically smiles, handing you back your passport.

You just nod defeatedly, heading to the near seats and to look ridiculously at the man almost shouting at the staff.

"As if the staff could control the weather..." You whisper, and almost immediately the man sighs, shakes his head and gets his passport. When he turns around, he meets your what's with this man-face, which you immediately straighten out and try to avert your gaze somewhere else.

You get your book from your bag and try to read a paragraph, when you realize the man was walking to your side of seat. You internally roll your eyes, holding back a sigh.

After minutes of silence, he forcefully lets out a small cough.

"I'm not that kind of person, you know." You hear, and you first look around to see if he was talking to someone else. When you meet his eyes, you ask if he was talking to you. "Yes, you. I was already running late for my plans on the other side of the world, and now I'm stuck for a few more hours now."

"Ah," You smile, nodding and chuckling awkwardly.

"Is your flight delayed too? Heard we said the same thing a while ago."

What an extrovert.

"Yes, until tomorrow morning." You answer shortly, trying to end the conversation by sticking your nose to your book.

"And your hotel?"

"Cannot be provided."

"Do you want to roam around with me?" He asks straightforwardly, having a poker face with him.

"Hmm- What?" You jerk from your seat, almost agreeing to what the weird man was suddenly offering.

"Roam around. Night's alive around here. We're stuck anyway. Would you want to go with me?"

You look around to see if there was someone else hearing this absurdity, which to there was none. When he senses your urgency, he chuckles.

"I'm actually a very fun person to be with, thank you very much. I'm Wooyoung," He shows you his passport, and lets you keep it. "I'm giving you that to assure you. I swear I'm not up to anything. Just fun, I mean that like... fun. F-U-N."

He makes you scoff, and you actually think about it. Like he said, you were stuck anyway. Even though you were an introvert, there was no way in hell you'd stay there sitting for eight hours.

"Okay." You agree, "And I would very much keep this for safety reasons." You chuck his passport to the deepest part of your handbag.

After keeping your luggage on the lockers, you head out with the man.

"I don't think I've gotten your name," He smiles, and you introduce yourself. "Do you want to go to the near night market? They have the best fish cakes I have ever tasted." You chuckle at his exaggeration, following him as he guided you with his blabbering.

He was indeed a very fun person to be with.

And it was indeed the best fish cakes.

You burst out laughing when his excitement caused him to burn his tongue, pointing at his redder part of the tongue.

"Now I can't taste anything!" He sulks, letting the ice of the juice he just bought stay in his tongue.

"Whoever told you to eat that fast," You chuckle, finishing another stick in front of him. "I give it to you, these are the best." You mock his exaggeration, throwing the stick. He pouts and looks back at the stall, stomping.

"I thought I won't have the time to go here, but when I had, I burnt my tongue," He angrily whispers, throwing the now empty cup.

His burnt tongue didn't stop him from having dessert, though. The delight he had on his face when he had tiramisu was so... lovable. He looked like a man going back to being a kid, pointing every stall with the food he loved.

"You're not a kid, are you?" You suddenly question him, stopping him mid-bite of his tiramisu. "I don't want to go back as a kidnapper,"

"Did you not look at my passport or something?" He unbelievably gawks at you, shaking his head.

"Ah, right." You nod dumbly, laughing at yourself. You hear him giggle anyway, and it gives you the butterflies.

Oh god, please no.

You shake your head to reality, slapping yourself internally.

As if he wasn't feeling the same. He's been slapping himself (lightly, physically, without you seeing it) if he caught himself smiling while looking at you.

He only met you three hours ago, come on.

Wait, "Three hours?!" He screams, looking at his phone, and his watch, and your phone, and your watch, and the clock ticking on one of those biggest buildings- yes, it has been three hours.

"Oh, yeah. It's been." You nod, confirming it with your watch. You've been keeping watch of the time, wanting to make the most out of it by enjoying every bit. You pout, him reminding you that yes, again, it has been three hours.

And now three hours and thirty minutes.

"Did you run out of places to go?" You chuckle, feeling the cold night air pass through your face. "I have one, should we?"

Wooyoung instinctively nods away, knowing he'd be good as long as he's with you anyway.

You guide him with a smile, knowing that with the personality he has been showing you, he was going to like the place you're going.

A carnival.

You knew today was going to be its last day, so it was going to last until the morning.

It was... enjoyable.

Seeing unusual costumes paraded and games played, you've never seen a man shine so bright when he smiles, when he (he does) squeals, and jumps and everything he does, and most importantly, never seen a man look at you with those eyes.

Those eyes.

And you have never fallen in love that fast.

Are you in love?

"Hey... I think we need to leave to the airport by now," Now, you were left with two hours. The sky was starting to lighten, the moon starting to and trying to between clearing clouds.

"One last game," He grabs your arm, and starts god knows what he's doing. Wriggling and stomping and pouting and whining. "That card game over there looks fun, ah, please..."

"Fine, fine. It won't hurt." He drags you around hand in hand, and you heave a breath. Not because you were out of it because he was running dragging you with him, but because of how you wanted his hand on yours for a longer time.

"You play it simply guessing what the card is stuck on your forehead. You can do it for ten minutes, thank you."

When the staff leaves, you look at the stacked cards in front of you, being dumbfounded that you had to pay ten dollars for that.

Well, what's a carnival without a scam.

You burst into a fit of giggles, getting the cards and shuffled it. "Looks fun, one said."

Okay- he didn't expect that the game was going to be this simple. He really, really just wanted more time to enjoy with you.

He'd spend every penny he has on his wallet now just to be with you a second longer.

"Let's just start the game," You chuckle, pushing his fringe aside to stick the card to his forehead. When you're done, you laugh at his deadpanned face. "What? You wanted it! Now stick one on mine."

He does the same with your hair, pushing it aside for the card to stick on.

"You know, I really enjoy tonight. I regret even shouting at the staff earlier for delayed flights." He starts, sweetly arranging your hair back. "I did not regret a second."

"I did." You crane your neck, hissing. His face drops in worry, because he thought you were enjoying it as much as he did.

"With what? Oh my god, I'm so sorry... we can leave now if you want!" Wooyoung scurries to leave the tent, but you immediately pull him back.

"I was joking! The only waste was your money going down the drain for this shitty card game," You explain, laughing at him. "I enjoyed tonight too, Mr. Wooyoung. It was a pleasure meeting you too."

You both knew this, whatever this was, but individually you discretely called it love, was short-lived.

Although you both wanted it to be for long, you both want to be each other's side for longer, no one was uttering anything out. You avoided the topic like a plague.

"How do we even guess it... without asking straightforward questions like what the shape or number is..." Wooyoung whispers, and you immediately burst into laughter. A big one.

When you were back at home, laughter came to you like a blue moon. With him, it was easy.

He laughs when you laugh, both leaning to each others shoulders naturally to catch up on your breaths for a whole good 5 minutes.

Because really, how would you do it?

"Is it the shape of a star?" Wooyoung asks, and you gawk at him.

"A diamond is not a star, Wooyoung!" You lecture, pointing at him.

"Okay! Then it's not a diamond... Let me guess now! I think it's two of spades!"

"That's unfair! I blurted out a hint!"

"That wasn't a hint at all, you were just lecturing me! So I guessed it wasn't a diamond so I'm left with what, spades! And you said it was an even number, the first even number was 2 so I guessed that! Just admit it, I'm lucky,"

"Fine! Whatever," You pout, putting the cards down and getting the one on your forehead. "Mine was a joker?!"

"...would like to call on passengers of ATZ-1117, you may now start heading to gate 8. We would like to apologize once more for the delay of flights. Again, Airline KQ would like to call on passengers of..."

"That's my flight!" You hurry, scurrying to your shared locker as you hear your flight being called the moment you step inside the airport.

"That's your flight?" Wooyoung softly asks, helping you with your things.

"Airline KQ would now like to call on passengers of ATZ-1024, you may now start heading to gate 18. We would like to apologize once more for the delay of flights. Again..."

"And that's mine." Wooyoung sighs, and you stop to memorize his features.

He fiddles with the handle of his luggage, and you muster the courage to cup his face.

"When time permits, we'll meet again." You smile at him, handing him his passport back. "It was fun. I enjoyed a lot, Woo."

He cups your cheeks back, and lands your forehead a kiss.

"We'll see each other again." You pat his back, urging a hug to which he allows. A tight one.

Before he breaks it off, he leans his forehead with yours. mesmirizing the last minutes he has with you before parting ways.

"Wooyoung... I'm sorry,"

"Right. If you don't leave now, I don't think you would, ever. I wouldn't let you," He leaves your forehead another kiss, and finally letting you go.

Except your hand.

He takes another good look at you and smiles, knowing that he'll find you in time.

He hopes he does. He prays he does.

"I'll see you when I do," You smile, and you start stepping back. You give his hand a good grip before finally tearing it apart, turning around with one last smile.

You had a job application to catch up to.

You had to stop yourself from looking back because once you do, you knew you were doomed.

And he had to watch you walk away first before he does, because god knows how wide open his arms would be once you look back and decide to jump back into his arms again.

But yet again, you don't. So he sharply inhales and turns around as well, delving to the reminiscing moments with you in his mind.

He remembers, he had his wedding to attend to.

[f4irys4n]

ateez 99 line p♡rn links

jeong yunho

making you squirt

monster cock! yunho

overstimulating you

messing in the bathroom

kang yeosang

riding him

nipple play

licking your clit

hands tied

choi san

playing with you

fucking from behind

tying you up

is it too much?

song mingi

eating you out

pleasuring each other

bouncing on his cock

destroying your pussy

jung wooyoung

teasing your pussy

head down, ass up

cumming inside you

lunch time

[chokchokk]

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | park seonghwa x fem!reader x choi san

part one of gangster!mafia!series "𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞-𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞"

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Picking your own poison, if poison was given to you in form of bankrolls by venomous men with high demands.

In which Park Seonghwa had a plan and Choi San has ideas.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : noir, smut, angst | korean mafia/geondal!au | ceo/jaebeol!au

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 18.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : entitled rich people, workplace harassment, alcoholism, softdom ceo!seonghwa (headman park), half-drunk satoori-using dom mafiaboss!san (mr. choi), both are called by their names at some point, sub-leaning bratty switch servant!femreader, use of (pet-)names (missy, baby, princess), groping, thigh-riding, light choking, light hair-pulling, non-penetrative sex, voyeur!seonghwa, sex in the elevator, counts as mirror sex right, biting kink, manhandling!san, edging, breeding, cum-eating (m), cunnilingus; reader hates the rich except for when they are sexy, implied but not severe age gap, writer does not have daddy kink but mafiaboss!san does, gunshots and death, use of korean proverbs

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : this with the next part will be the origin story for reader, specifically the series synopsis’ first half :) originally, this has been a request, so please read this, if you desire to have a bit more insight to what the series actually is + translations of certain terms (mostly character dynamics) in this chapter !!

tl;dr: since it's all based around korean mafia/gangster/etc, there will be korean culture scattered between the lines. it is all translated, hopefully in an understandable way!!! (please hmu if there are difficulties) i let out honorifics/romanisation, except for "chaebol" since it's an actual word :) that being said, reader's ethnicity is not specified and won't be relevant to the series in any way !! 

smut comes after the second border, and uh,,, i had to shorten that shit (pls dont ask me where) but uh. you’re getting 8k words of smut so buckle up LMAO !!! i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it !!! thank you for likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo (also this is NOT beta-read so pls dont hesitate to tell me about... like.... errors, tags and shit)

[ now playing : money ▸ pink floyd | listen to the playlist ]

It's getting repetitive. They are drinking their ninth bottle of expensive whiskey, smoking their third or fourth disgustingly pricey cigar— what the fuck, is this seriously what the upper men of your nation are doing at some stupid chairman’s dinner party?

“Missy!”

“Me, sir?”

No wonder the economy's fucking shit.

“Yeah, you, missy, give that gent over there one of our divine Denmarks!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give him a kiss too, while you’re at it! What do you think? He’s still got it, no?”

Said ‘gent’, some old, scummy clown— winks at you, his gray eyelashes fluttering towards your direction.

“Yes, sir."

God, how bad you wish you had snuck your phone in to take a picture of these red, drunken, senseless faces, but you're a dutiful servant, abiding by the rules at all times, however difficult it may be. You’re holding in your puke professionally, not even doing something as to grit your teeth, just softly letting your jaw play along to your friendly smile.

“Does your willy even still work that way, old friend?", a cranky, yet humorous voice pitches in.

Agreeing to your supervisor’s offer to earn “big money” may have been a bad idea, but a good choice. Jongho said he’d seen you at your work, took special note of you— even though you weren’t sure where exactly he had observed you, since it’s only been a month of actually working as a servant in the lower tiers of the building— and wanted to give you a chance to swim with the big sharks. “I think you’re best suited for the job,” is what he said to make you giggle and think about your initial rejection of his proposition, “you have a talent for serving.”

Something you didn’t know you had, something you didn’t know someone would see in you ever in your life, “talent.” Sure, maybe you let yourself be persuaded a bit too fast, but it felt very touching that somebody saw you and saw potential, for whatever occasion it may be for. You don’t necessarily want to screw the rules of the hierarchical pyramid or what it was that kept you from being in the proximity of the chairman, but you really need the extra cash right now.

"What does a girl from the mountains look for in being a servant in the city?", had been the question you were asked by Lady Kim who gave you the leftovers of her restaurant at the end of the day, when you had just started with the training– poor, barely standing on your own feet. 

You remember how you explained to her that the buddhist monks who raised and send you here surrounded themselves with wells to remind everyone that water always returned, and you assumed it would work the same with wealth. You also remember how hard she tried to stay kind to you, showing you her sincerest sympathy by telling you that "the chaebol are no joke!" (at least not a joke, an innocent girl like you could laugh about, she later explained) and giving you an extra portion of her home-made dumplings to suit you up.

Her sharp, yet compassionate voice rings in your ears, as you reapply your red lipstick on the way to your target guest. Oh, Lady Kim, what a graceful woman– she put her all into her work for her restaurant to succeed, but had always made a place to share what she had for those who needed it. Such a lovable woman, she must have been well-liked by all around her.

You get it now, the way you had been so naive back then. Floating on the philosophical happy-go-lucky psyche of the city’s promise of prosperity, trying to live the Korean dream strangely enough as someone who was so sarcastically out of touch with it. If you had been in her position, you wouldn’t have been able to be as nice, no, would have warned yourself with a finger pointed upwards as if you were teaching a little kid about strangers, or how your monks said, ‘tigers in the woods’.

“After that cigar, his dick will turn to dust!”

Maybe things would have looked different, if you hadn’t taken that fund from the school’s superintendent, who slid you that card on your table with a smirk on his face. Oh dear, do you remember how excited you had been? You ran through the streets in your worn-out shoes with that plastic sheet in your hand, on your way to tell that the money on it was such a ridiculously high number that you could split— but Lady Kim had got to know it first, the ridiculousness of the rich, with the demolition of her restaurant-building.

“He’s got no cum in his nutsacks ‘no more anyway!”

No warning, no compensation, just everything crushed to pieces to make place for the big corporations; the fancy neon-signs she'd invested in, the ambition of her enthusiastic dreams, your only source of tender charity, shattered to a wreck. You have never seen her since, and can only laugh about how the fancy food of the chaebol—and you definitely know who they are now, those tasteless men gawking at you in the moment—doesn’t even look half as good as her low-cost black bean noodles you could more than afford now. 

The present day-you is less dreamy, but just as lost, forced to work off a debt you hadn’t been informed about when you lived off the favorable “fund”-money. No, Lady Kim, this is all a joke, you would tell her today. A really fucking bad one.

So, making room for another ha-ha in your life, you pulled your eyes up innocently, returning Jongho’s specious smiles. “Is it illegal to collect pocket-money from the rich?” It’s not like you had any doubts at that point, but 'they'll buy you out of prison if you’re good enough' was all you needed anyway to put your uniform on tightly at home.

"Can't even shoot his cum in missy to save his blood!"

Your more experienced co-workers are watching you work with a condescending frown, feeling both jealous you're getting all the men's attention, but also maliciously delighted you're being challenged as the new-coming servant who's obviously of erotic interest to these richlings. They want you to get a "taste of life" for you may be the most goody-goody fawning bitch they have ever seen; just a young birdbrain who has nothing to bring to the table except her body. Young thing won’t hold up, doesn't know who she's working with— though they are quite right about that part, you must admit, you frankly didn’t look up whose money you’re taking right now— she doesn’t know who the fuck she is.

"What? Did his son leave the company, too?"

It’s flattering to know that the other pretty servants look at you and only see some candy-coated muppet, but fairly, your ever-frozen smile on your face doesn’t give them much to work with. You’re simply an annoyance to their routine, and if you could, you would like to comfort them by saying none of the money you’re getting will stay in your hands– they’d be so happy to hear that you’re really worth nothing– but you must stay focused.

“Idiot, he’s only got a daughter!”

So yes, that being said, you’re glad nobody ever asks you about you. Everyone just assumes, judges from what they see, and if what they see is an opportunistic bimbo-girl chasing money, then so be it, right?

"You know, the one he married off to the governor?”

Right. Because you too have not a single second to think nor talk about your past. The present is scarce and the future is fragile, you know it the best. And you owe it to your old men to make the best out of their efforts, don't you? The air in this room may not be the one you inhaled in the mountains, but you still have to use it, breathe, be alive, despite how moldy and spoiled it simmers in your throat.

"Real mad! Anything to avoid that fee, huh, missy? Got no semen and no glory! You really want to give him that cigar?”

So, that taste of life? Fucking bitter, just like how that name 'missy' seeps and sweats on your tongue. You can’t loathe your co-workers for this reason, they're basically in the same wooden, shaky boat as you, but these asswipes here are floating on a fucking yacht. Of course they don't follow some type of code of human decency for you, they don't give two shits about the lowlifes, the poor. They watch them like a spectacle, and because they don't regard you as a human-being but rather a toy, they play with you on strings that are, on the other hand, binding together a big, fat bankroll.

Ka-Ching.

Eyes on the price, Y/N, eyes on the price. You may not own a lot, that's been more than established, but if there is something you have, it's dutifulness, commitment, and proficiency. It will remain difficult to keep inner peace and honor with a job of which "duty" it is to be a deferential, subservient doll, but at least you're alive and well, soon to leave this floor with more money to your name that these fuckers don't know anyway, right? Never let that smile drop, smart girl. You have a talent, just like your supervisor said. Just keep on serving.

“No children-makin' is better for the cheatin'— ha!”, the barren, that fruitless man who’s been made fun of whoops in to stand up for himself, and awaits his tobacco that's being driven to him by your cart.

You open up the wooden chest in which the cheroots, so unnecessarily gold-plated, sit and ridicule you with their rare existence. There are just thousands of dollars sitting in your hand right now, and as you fetch the thick roll with wary fingers, you think, fucking hell, this could feed so many people, and they're just smoking it away like it's nothing, assholes.

The other servants frown at you spitefully during the time you bow down. You're sensually placing the brown cylindrical object into his mouth, a match lighting held to his face to light it up. In addition to the experience, you hold one long stare with his washy eyes, because you assume it will ignite him.

And, oh, how excited he gets.

"Thank you, sir," you chuckle and flutter with your eyelashes, pursing up your lips like you’re an innocent little girl getting a piece of candy behind her parents’ back.

“Just mad! Missy's young enough to be your grandchild, fella!”

You’re aware of exactly what your dear co-workers are thinking, but being ordered to light their cigs and then ogled at is not "baby-treatment” or whatever they’re muttering under their breath, it's your subtle strategy to have that bankroll be slid between your thighs.

"Hey now, I still can get it on! Don't you think so too, missy?"

Dumb Y/N, only has money on her mind. Allows herself to be called "missy", like a dumb fucking slut. 

Hm, kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?

"Yes, sir."

Let them all think you're a dummy. Let them believe, believe each other's words in whatever they fucking want. You're almost too certain it's the secret reason Jongho offered you a place here anyway; "suited for the job", because he deems you dense enough to not understand any of the nonsense these twelve men are babbling, "big money", because he knows you will do anything for it. 

You’ll still take the talent, but if he really thinks the rest, then oh, sucks to be him.

Yes, you haven’t looked up the names of who the men here are for the same reasons they're not using yours, but the second you’re out of this whiny, weak testosterone-drowned room, you're going to write the most thorough blackmail, because you can not listen to their cheating, money-laundering, corrupted bullshit anymore. Getting involved with the handshakers is the last thing you should do if you want to live a silent, carefree life, and you know this too well, but they're not going to believe it was you anyway. They wouldn’t dream of their missy to do such a competent, smart thing. You even know what you're going to write under the letter so they have something to think about in their cells: 'birds listen to the words of day, mice to the words at night'— walls have ears, too.

Ah, the soft, sometimes very cryptic voice of your favorite old monk. Always there to teach you new things, remind you of how to live your life cheerfully. You still believe he would have rather kept you in the mountains and not drop you on a wild voyage into the unknown urban life, but your old man had his reincarnation coming. You should visit his grave again, it's been a while, hasn't it? Wouldn't he be so proud to see you? To see how much his little Y/N has grown and learnt, using his proverbs to restore justice? Well, for what you still can collect of your late mentor, he would probably make big eyes and use his whole body to keep your monetary gift away from him. "Teacher," you would ask, "don't you at least want to save?", and his answer would remain the same;

"Peace comes free."

You feel warm at the distant memory of the bald-headed man warming himself in his orange gown, teaching you about love, harmony and kindness, but that sweet veil of untainted innocence has long dropped from your eyes.

In front of you, you see tycoons continuing having a blast being their shitty selves, and as golden teeth blend your sight, they are entertaining each other by staring at your legs that are covered by your sheer black stockings, whispering their insight of how you'd look like under it, but the mini-skirt only leaves so much for imagination.

"Sweet missy!"

How could you not want to spit into their face? They have bought the war. They have bought the chaos. And why? Just because they can. It doesn't cost you anything to restore some peace, maybe that’s the thing your old man got right.

"Yes, sir?”

“Do you have any Cubans left, sweet missy?”

“A Cuban, coming right up, sir.”

“Hopefully someone’s gonna come after the party tonight!”

Are you humiliated? As someone who lived among the wisest, clearest heads, and was considered just as smart by them to be wished a ‘more fortunate life’ — No.

You couldn’t care less about their perversions. Especially now, when they seemingly don’t care enough to know your name you've introduced yourself with. You are here for one reason, and it's not to prove your worth to the world, it's to secure your place in it, get that parasitic debt off your shoulders.

And if anything, as long you are staying truthful to yourself, there’s nothing that could take away your spirit. That’s what you want to believe, at least. When you’re out of debt and continue with this job, you could spend every day downtown like the other servants, but for you, it's all going to the savings for the family you're going to feed with not one worry in life on the clear land in the mountains, not under a sky that's polluted by light even when the sun has set.

The clock has announced night long time ago. Outside the windows, there shines and roams a loud, restless city under a starless, foggy black blanket, inhabited by people like you who live day by day to make their living, like small flies forgathered in a hive of exhausting labor, buzzing their life away.

It’s what you think every time you peek down the glass room: Seoul has never looked so small. Across and around the ever-flowing Han-River, the metropole is the home of millions who are looking up with their heads far back their necks to the point right here, where you stand, at the center or peak of all the wealth gathered together, inside the highest building standing tall amidst of the tumult, on the 114th floor, towering over the world in a luxurious dining room decorated by exotic animals, marbled statues and most importantly the filthy glimmer of something they call ‘class’.

“Missy,” the chairman calls out for you, raising his hand, right after he’s made another infidelity joke and showed his luxurious wedding ring to the audience.

“Yes, sir?”, you call out, wearing your pristine servant-smile with your hands folded nicely in front of your stomach, voice not tainted by your disgust as to even one note, despite the other servants looking at you with hateful expressions. They wish you the worst; the worst treatment, the worst performance, anything to get you out of this place. 

Maybe they're driven by the same instincts and avarice that makes you hate the rich,  with them just thinking you're taking away their money, but it's free territory here with these predators; you just make for great prey.

It’s a challenge to all of the people involved and the contestants can only win. Will it be another pick-up line? You're going to pick on that with ease. Another joke about your age? That one is never going to get old. There, bring it on, you think, and feel proud of your confident spirit, ready to run with whatever they throw and stash it into your wallet.

“You see those youngsters back there? Get 'em some more ice."

“Yes, sir.”

“Chaps don't know how to drink the good stuff yet, what a waste! Next time, buy 'em the cheap soju from the mart! The ones for 5,000 Won, missy, you know those?”

“Yes, sir.” Your whole face flashes a smile, bowing to accept the task of refilling some ice, dragging your cart across the room, as male laughter rings in your ears. It's as if they don't realize they also drink cheap liquor, but you suppose that's forgettable when they are flushing the fanciest of meats down with it.

"Be careful, missy!"

Are you being too mild by saying you want to ram the green glass-bottles into their heads?

"They bite!”

Maybe choke them with their own money bills?

Yes, “Yes, sir.”

It's a fun exercise to fantasize about how to hurt them, so you thought you would be busy enough to ignore the chairman's warning, but as you are on your long way to the end of the even longer glass table to push your cart towards the men he is referring to, there's a growing feeling inside your guts that oh, the chairman may be ... 

Huh, right for the first time. The quizzical lump expands warmly as much as it is cold, with goosebumps running down your spine, your hands feeling hotter than ever over the metal cart. Your whole body is trying to signal you that something is off on the other side of the table, but you don’t know whether to ignore it or run.

The annoying, empty-minded, impertinent elders, who have been belly-laughing at the chairman's joke a second ago stop with their chatting and only exhale huffs, and prolong them nervously, that’s off. The servants gulping, loosening their crossed arms– that’s off, too. 

“So, uhh… Where was the, uh– food from?”

“Oh, lad, good topic, yes– the delicious food…”

It seems that everyone in the room is trying to fill in the silence with the fakest of laughter, so the chairman can move on from the topic, but you're well over your way there, uninformed to what you're going to be hit with once you halt.

Tycoons like them usually don't need back-checking. You know how to deal with ill-willed imbeciles that only use their estate as a weapon. Their bodies and brains have passed prime an eternity ago. Left behind are only their numbed minds that seek shelter in lust, ecstasy and aphrodisia because nothing else excites them anymore. They’re what you probably would have been if you hadn’t spent your teens brewing tea and listening to the leaves rustle, not experiencing all euphoria and more at a too early age– they’re washed out, just swimming in money they haven't worked a day for, are lazy, weary sloths.

However, opposed to the cloudiness in their class that's only getting more foggier through the many years of monopoly, these two men that are waiting in front of you, and you understand why your lungs are pinging now, they are potent.

Money is power, but twist it around and there is them, with that; a certain force that the rich ooze out by just acting and looking a certain way, and oh, Y/N, how they are, how they are looking at you right now, best believe you have to hold onto your strength like it's a small purse.

'Youngsters', he said— 'they bite', he said.

They have been rarely reacting to the chairman’s words, notwithstanding being the ones to be the most respectful in this meeting for their young age, just looking at each other with unamused eyes. Even the director who is older than the chairman lets out his best holler every time, but these two have not laughed once at his jokes, not the slightest chuckle has left their mouths to flatter or satisfy the chairman.

Interesting.

Both black-haired, the one you get to first has his mane gelled back, a cigarette hanging out his scarred mouth, as you approach his seat with your cart walking carefully practiced steps. His white shirt is opened up to where chains, most importantly a silver cross, hang from his collarbones to his chest that’s covered with scars and scratches you can’t quite identify how they got there. This man looks gigantic, muscular, dangerous. Shoulders terrifyingly broad popping out his black vest, he sits on his seat with widened legs, thighs flattened in his also black pants, fastened by a leather belt, and with his white sleeves pulled back to his elbows, his slightly tanned forearms only appear more huge after the rather average-looking wristwatch catches your eye, just when you stop with your cart in front of him.

“That old geezer just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”, he chuckles, the Gyeongsang-provincial dialect rolling so naturally off his tongue. Everyone else in the room has been faking their speech to cosplay a charm they didn’t possess, but even the slight lisp and lull from the drunkenness are not hiding how deeply masculine and sincere this man’s voice sounds. It’s a mixture of the sarcasm you've gotten used to by now, but also a brashness that the older men lack, and you’re a bit embarrassed to say it’s working you up a bit. "Empty carts rattle loudest, I say."

A wintry breeze goes through your breast and you feel your eyebrows flinch. You haven't heard that grandmotherly expression in so long, that it does feel somehow refreshing to reconcile with it, but maybe the whisk you sense shouldn’t feel as comforting given the way the man is looking up to you brazenly with a bit of atrocity in his appearance. He is far away from the serene sketch you drew to save the vision as you left the village, he is what you felt when you took your first train, asphyxiated by the big masses of people who you would never see again— an unhomely, yet intimate feeling of... adventure.

He glances through you smoking his cigarette with no hands attached, and it moves at the corner of his lip as he talks. Wait, cigarette? Missy, did you forget to bring him a cigar?

"Let's see when he runs out of words."

“It’s alright, sir,” you answer, suppressing a slight chuckle because yes, you too have been wishing the chairman would finally shut the fuck up, but haven't expected anyone to say it out loud that boldly. You watch the male in front of you take out the slim roll from his mouth with his thick fingers that are covered with silver rings that all look different and not matching each other, blowing out the smoke whilst maintaining eye contact with you. “If you require, I can bring you a cigar, sir," you say, but he waves his hand to brush off your offer.

“Ah, they give me bad breath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please," the man progresses instantaneously, scratching over the vertical scar at his lip-corner with his thumb, his ciggy continues to burn, "Do be so kind and give brother his ice," then smiles, "he needs to preserve his cold head.”

“You are one to talk about keeping mouths shut,” the ‘brother’ answers, voice velvety and adequate despite dissing the man that’s sunken unmannerly into his seat, while he, on the other hand, is sitting up straight, his black suit buttoned up, tie set cleanly under his ironed pearl-white collars, elegantly decorated by a golden pin. A Greek "π" is chiseled into it, and you recognize it so well for you’ve seen it written all over the tall buildings you drove by on your way here. His hair is combed evenly to the sides and the more you look at him, he’s just— wow, flawless, prestigious, expensive. Everything about him is crystal clear; his rich voice, his unblemished skin, his eyes, oh god, you just noticed those eyes, how does such a shameful man have such pure eyes?

Orbs— and they're not innocent as much as you can't say they're not guilty— are looking at you with a defiance that is suffocating, as if you ought to do everything perfectly, not miss a single twitch of his eyebrows to understand whether he's enjoying or disapproving of the situation.

Well, is he enjoying you or disapproving of the way you're listening to his partner's order to refill his ice?

Huh. No fucking idea. He probably doesn't, but you must do it still— must still serve.

It feels irrationally sheep-headed, but hey, being a sheep is your job, is it not? Being in this herd is keeping you alive, and even in this situation, where you are following the orders of the blackest of sheep, no, wolves that can't be covered by any fluffy wool— you must mow your best.

"Ohh, brother, it's been a while since I heard you talk! Feels lonely droppin' all the good sayings by myself."

You’re serving Choi San and CEO of PARA-conglomerate, headman Park Seonghwa.

Sat right across the chairman, the percentage this couple holds of his company-share is more than most of the attending seniors combined, which makes them stand at the top of the guest-list. You couldn’t have missed their names, even if you’ve made the attempt to, and the other information you’re getting is just your co-workers whispering hurried words to each other, and it seems to you that you may be more in need of them than ever.

You already eavesdropped on them a little, and to be honest, you didn’t need any real confirmation that everyone in this room was unlawful and corrupt, but it is good to know you really don’t have to feel guilty stashing those bankrolls into your purse.

The man that is licking the tail of his scar at his lip, rolling his neck, clicking with his mouth and tapping his fingers onto the table, he is rumored to be the boss of the Choi-Clan, the infamous ‘Mad Dog of Namhae’, whose face had been unknown. The chairman has made a drunken joke about allegedly trying to sell him off to the government— “everybody act like you don’t know, okay?”— and nobody had taken him seriously, but once the supposed mafiaboss had entered the room, an hour later than everyone else, and sat down comfortably like nothing was strange about his heavy breath and slightly purple knuckles, nobody dared to say something else.

If you’d heard beforehand that you would be meeting a CEO and a mafiaboss today, you don’t know if you would have acted any differently. Thinking, here comes the chairman, his jesters, the mafia-guy, the chaebol; ah, all the motherfuckers aligned, let’s get to work, shall we? 

But this does challenge you a bit, indeed. If they just weren’t so young and intimidatingly good-looking, fuck, you could have treated them in the same cookie-cutter way you’d been at perfectly.

Maybe a bit of change-up won’t hurt, you were starting to get a bit too irritated anyway.

"Control yourself."

“You wanna see him dead too, brother,” the smoking male sneers— you’ll call him ‘Mr. Choi’ for now— pointing at his companion to accuse him of being a yawner, his cigarette stuck between his fingers.

Headman Park smirks with a short twitch of his lips that makes you think you just imagined it, but none of his extremities has moved since you came here: Every single action he takes seems so... calculated, thought through, measured, planned out. He is the only one to have brought a briefcase to the dinner, and looks a little bit out of place with his sober expressions which seem to you as if he was observing the whole room in its possible entirety, not leaving out a corner in his sight uncovered.

"Want," he parrots, face dropped to a neutral visage, highlighting the only word that seems to be bothering the CEO regarding his vis-à-vis' statement, eyes darting down  to Mr. Choi having his fingertips pointed towards him.

"Don't you become pushy with the words now, brother," the mafiaboss teases him, and tugs his sleeves up to his elbows again, eyeing you up and down while you're passing him with your cart. You discern his interest in the pockets of your skirt, or what is there underneath, instantly, but before you can think that the man may be just the same as the others, he cracks his knuckles. “Old geezer might die on his own at this point, look at how he's smoking his raisin-lungs away."

"Poetic."

So much for hearing government and company secrets, here are these two joking about the chairman’s death. You need the chairman a little bit longer if you want to earn money, but the idea of him dying soon isn’t too bothersome.

"You gotta get used to my Korean way of speaking, brother! Then we can communicate correctly!”

With your ears sharpened, but your face presenting unconcerned, you devote yourself to headman Park to refill his bucket, ice cubes jangling down the iron jar, whilst Mr. Choi stretches his arms behind his head, raising an eyebrow towards his elder who isn't hearing him out.

“Thank you,” headman Park says, very briefly and precisely. The tong you put in the bucket for him to use almost tips, and you don’t know whether he does it on purpose for he’s been frozen still all during the dinner, but with his reflexes, he prevents it from falling before you can, but if that wasn't surprising enough, he grazes your skin while returning.

Soft, uncalloused; not a single ounce of labor roughed up these hands, it seems. They tickled you featherly, and right now, you are looking for some type of confirmation in those black spheres of his to know that you're allowed to exhale and react to his touch, because you gasped slightly and have held your breath ever since.

Nothing. You are the first one to look— no, shy away from his stare, getting your hands in front of your abdomen again, your fingers searching for each other, fiddling around by themselves without your knowledge. 

Mr. Choi lets his wrist-watched hand fall between his lap, neck tilted slightly to the back, licking over his canine tooth with a grin, and it appears to you that he's either noticed his associate's small gesture or how headman Park is still staring at you. “You wanna do something, don’t you, brother?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Mr. Choi shakes his head to irritate headman Park and make him explain himself.

“This is not business.”

Headman Park glances down his whiskey, droplets of water have formed around the brim of the cold glass. It is untouched. 

"I see you aren’t enjoying the whiskey, would you like something else to drink, sir?", you ask, trying to finish your job and get away from here before you get ideas that don’t include money between your thighs.

"The Fillico, please," the male answers, not having glanced away from your eyes once to inspect your cart, where the black, long bottle, donning a crown and wings adorned with Swarovski-crystals, awaits you to be grabbed.

"A glass of cold Fillico Black King!", you exclaim, your surprise of the particularity that anyone would drink water at the chairman's dinner can’t be hidden, and then hum, "Coming right up, sir."

“You’re really something, brother,” Mr. Choi wheezes, taking the last pull of his cigarette, watching you fill up a new glass for his unrelated brother with the finest mineral that can be bought to-date, pricing around 6 Billion Won, or 4500 US Dollars per bottle. “Wouldn’t you say it’s difficult to not be smokin’ or drinkin’ in this business, Y/N?”

Sure, whatever ‘business’ a man like him is talking about. “Yes, sir." Wait, hold on, did Mr. Choi just say your name? 

“You don’t look too impressed,” the male grins, seeing how you’ve narrowed your eyes in confusion.

"Pardon me, I was just– how do you know my name, sir?”

Mr. Choi shrugs as if to say ‘I dunno’ and presses his cigarette out on the table. It sizzles out, like your head is also slowly deteriorating. He throws the bud into the CEO's ice-bucket— headman Park is not even minorly irritated by it— and then, with his ringed fingers, goes through his hair, setting it loose behind his head. He’s picking on you, and you surely feel picked out, that's all you can think. It's so unusual to be hearing your name, not because it hasn't been said during the dinner, but because—

"Y/N Y/L/N, a pretty name for a pretty servant like you, huh?"

Your heart somehow flutters. A stalwart man like him taking your name into his mouth is nothing you hear on the daily. Deep, manly. It's not flattering, no, it sounds wrong, feels so dangerous for a guy like him to be taking something so personal and turning it into his possession, like you're slowly going to lose yourself in the words he speaks in a lax manner. Your name is precious to you, and it just drops off his tongue like it's candy. Where on earth does a man like him get your full name from?

"Sir," you insist, dipping your fingertip under your fingernail, fidgeting.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya prefer that stupid name ‘missy’,” Mr. Choi chuckles and fetches headman Park’s full glass of whiskey, his dialect draping out his mouth.

“Or do you secretly enjoy it," he grins, and with his eyebrows raised, Mr. Choi drinks up his acquaintance's booze in one big gulp, letting the glass fall down on the table with a thump, breathing out, "missy?”

People drink whiskey neatly, you know that. The guests have been doing it all evening, but that's for two ounces. Headman Park had a glass full of the oak-colored sherry liquid with an uncommonly high alcohol percentage placed in front of him. A taunt from the chairman maybe, to subtly scorn them about their apparent boyhoodish inexperience, but Mr. Choi makes it look so adept: The strong alcohol flows down his throat smooth and speedy, even though he did misplace the rim by an inch.

There's whiskey dripping down his chin as he glances over to his side, smirking at his neighbor who's blinking frozen, as well as the other guests, who are seemingly just as irritated that the mafiaboss got you as flustered as you look like.

You’re left with your mouth slightly open, shotting down a glass of whiskey shouldn't have looked as barbarous as Mr. Choi made it appear. Like a striking attack, baring his claws, he growls out the herby aftertaste. "'Scuse me, 'got really thirsty there."

The mafiaboss goes over his lips with his tongue, watching your hand play with the seam of your skirt, where he knows a handkerchief is buried in your pocket.

“Aw, shit, I got wet,” he wails over-dramatically, looking down on himself and then again locking his eyes into yours.

“Wanna clean me up, baby?”

“Pardon?”

Much to your continued bafflement, Mr. Choi smiles, and as he sees you taking a second to confirm what he said, he continues talking to you like you’re a hooker.

“Don't like that one, Y/N?” Again, with the name! Where does he get the name?!

“Sir, how—“

“You have introduced yourself to us,” headman Park finally reveals in the high Seoul tongue, perchance by pity, and you inhale, a bit embarrassed that you didn’t come to think of it earlier. What is happening to you? Is it because you’re finally away from those sleazes, that you’re being so light-headed? Lack of training? Sexual attraction? God, that’s a rookie’s mistake, Y/N, think about them as targets, not objectives. The objective is to not end up in a bed with them, remember? That’s like, rule number one. Even though nobody told you about the Mafia while you were at training, that’s a valid argument.

Don't let your guard down, you’re in a room with the men of men, no maybe the men. The most influential men you could be meeting in Seoul right now, aside from how little is known about them.

Whether he's a real chaebol or not, PARA-CEO Park Seonghwa is definitely the nephew of good ol’ chairman over there, just leeching off his money even if today is the first time the man is visiting his distant uncle who is definitely a bit sour about the fact he took so long to connect with him. Money has its sources and sometimes, most of the time, it’s nepotism. There you go, the explanation of his wealth and why the male is so well-mannered sitting on his seat. He’s woven into the conglomerate-family, been made CEO to keep him that way and all in all, you could care less about him, if he just wasn’t the only person that was kind of nice to you. Just thinking about his eyes makes you a bit dizzy, but you can get that fixed by turning your eyes to the mafiaboss.

Mafia and chaebol don't usually associate, for reasons that are rather obvious. Mafia’s rule the underworld with the overworld’s laws, and the chaebol rule over what laws the overworld decides on, digging their hands into the government like it’s soot, planting and pulling crops wherever they can profit from it. Money.

It’s sickening every time you think about it. How many people in this room could pay for your whole life? No, how many can’t pay for your whole life and beyond? You can count them with one hand and they’re all wearing the same clothes as you. 

Money knows where it belongs; that’s a phrase you made up the day you were told about the crippling debt by the letter and the bank declining your card. It sounds similar to your monks' sayings of water's ever-flowing life, but if water returns, money drifts. It wanders across the citizens, but follows a direction it's always bound to end up. Just like today, with you getting bankrolls to graze the inner space of your legs, only to know it’s going to end up in the same fingers that gave it to you.

So, where do headman Park and Mr. Choi get a say in this? Do they get a say in this?

“I did introduce myself, how could I forget? I’m sorry, sir,” you admit and let out a laugh that is half intended to sound as nervous as it did, and half regrettably filled with authentic uneasiness.

Old chairman, what does he know? Have those teeth really ever sunk into flesh? You can’t play with your fate here, but by hook or crook they intrigue you so much. You haven’t expected guests that aren't ass-kissers of the chairman, and apparently your talent only goes so far. You have no idea what to do with them to satisfy them except letting out your real thoughts and you can’t do that, definitely not in front of the man.

But you feel so connected to them. The caution everyone has, it confuses you just as much you're amazed by it, and you want that, you want that kind of safety. Every guest here has money, but not every guest has their authority.

“It’s alright, everybody makes mistakes, baby,” Mr. Choi smirks and musters you again, rubbing the liquid away from the corner of his lip with his thumb and kissing the remaining alcohol away, savoring every droplet of whiskey, but also savoring you by keeping his thumb leaned into his opened mouth, eyes looking sultrily at you, you might as well just—

“Mistakes, San. Beware of them,” headman Park falls in and his companion finally sways his eyes away from you, hand backing down. “Talkative drunkard.“

“Brother,” Mr. Choi sighs and grabs the glass from his neighbor that's filled with ice cubes to murmur, “I’m not that drunk," swinging it around with concise flicks of his wrist to enunciate his words.

With the couple bantering, you think you can calm down. Maybe you were overreacting. Bootlicking some birdbrains is a way easier life than to follow these two.

"Hey, baby?”, but there's another call of the bird of prey.

“Yes, sir?”, you answer, fingers letting go of your skirt that has thrashed your skin by how you abused it. You don’t even know when you started to react to the name 'baby', but truth be told it’s better than ‘missy’ by miles. Being over here is better than being over there by miles, that is unchangeable.

“Could you get me clean? This is kinda sticky."

With two fingers, he grabs the collar of his shirt and flails it softly, ice clinking in his glass, as he shows you his indeed quite syrupy breast.

"Yes, sir."

You nod towards the crevice that is the space where his muscles meet, and before your eyes can get lost in the plump thews, you collect yourself so you can do what you were asked for; getting your hands on his body.

“Please.”

“Ahh, I liked you more when you were quiet, brother! I don’t wanna call you a party-pooper, but c'mon! It’s your plan, and I’m just— doin’ my part.”

Mr. Choi twists his upper body a bit so he’s still able to hold the empty glass behind your back, though it feels more caging in than it should, when you lean forwards to softly tap his skin with your handkerchief. His arm hovers next to your hip and his upper body is extended wide around you.

“What do you say, baby?”, the male asks, and you harrumph to take your mind elsewhere from how rock-hard the mafiaboss feels under your hand, how his cologne smells so rich and inviting, and how— “Wanna be bitten?”

“Pardon?”, you ask, not understanding the context of Mr. Choi’s question, but without fail grasping the intentions of it.

The male grins, and you’re unsure as to how he got his hand on the bottle of whiskey from your tray as quickly as he did, but it’s there, in the hand that’s across your hip, and from then on, everything you do seems risky. His bicep is curled around your thigh so he can fill himself another glass, and if you take a step back, your ass will be pushed against his arm, but if you step forward, you’ll land on top of him; a straining dilemma that only inflames your guts the more you think about it.

“San,” headman Park grumbles quietly, seeing you struggle to stand on your feet.

“Agh, come on, brother, 's all going well! Live a little for me, will ya? Watch me and follow,” Mr. Choi nags with a juvenile pout and takes a disgruntled sip from his drink, making your imaginations reality by pushing you with his forearm with no forewarning. You trip closer to him and his arms raise, as you have to find safety on his shoulders to not fall into his crotch.

“Oops, ‘scuse me, baby,” he grins, feline eyes glancing up to you, your bust in his view. The other men are grumbling, fussy, yammering— if they knew, they would have done that with you a long time ago!— and in your head, you don't know whether you should be doing this at the chairman's dinner and not somewhere in a stripclub or just, god, anywhere else.

“It’s okay, sir,” is what you answer, and the short silence would be the perfect opportunity to scuffle back to your original stance, but you saw his ever-growing, throbbing bulge in his black suit-pants and it is staring you down.

Everything about him is so big…

“Really, baby?”, Mr. Choi asks, eyebrows pushed together, lips formed into a pout, feigning an expression of worry.

“Yes, sir,” you say, the big question of 'what is the goal here?' unnerving you, but with the quick, harsh movement of his leg against the back of your knee, you're—

“Sir!”

Sat on his thigh, your butt is bouncing on the hard flesh, fingers dug into his shoulders deeper due to the shock, ribcage moving up and down as you’re breathing fast and anxiously. At this point, you’ve gathered the attention of many who are seemingly more excited about the situation than you are, silencing all around, while the chairman continues to crack drunk jokes on the other side.

Mr. Choi chuckles at your nervousness and puts his glass down. “Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos, his rough, calloused fingers trailing between the inner space of your thighs that’s pushed into his leg. “Need a little break?”

As you sit there— securing yourself on the table, feeling his hand sit between your legs, you become lighter with each passing second, tingles being sent down your abdomen. Could Mr. Choi please stop smirking like that? It’s going to make you lose your mind, lose every thought of what you were trying to achieve at this table tonight.

“The chairman doesn’t allow breaks, sir,” you murmur, trying to cling onto the last sense of service you have, “I have to stay here.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper for the CEO in front of you to become curious, but loud enough for the mafiaboss to scoff and massage his hand deeper into your flesh.

“Sir, I really—“, you try to protest, but Mr. Choi uses his other finger to signal you to come closer to his face. You do as you’re told, his warm breath hitting your ear after you lean backwards.

“Baby,” he cackles, and his lips touch your earlobe, the smell of the smoke fading out his mouth.

“I practically own that wimp,” and Mr. Choi lets out a chuckle before his voice lowers an octave, “Let me own you, too.”

His tongue grazes over your sensitive skin as if he was a snake trying to convince you of eating the strange fruit, and you shudder forwards in surprise, his growl still vibrating in your ears.

You should get yourself together— yeah, that sounds like a good idea, if it just wasn't for the fact that this is exactly how you've been presenting yourself the whole evening. You're cornered, and not only by him, but your actions and it's, oh, old man, it's something. It's something that broadens the playground that was set out in front of you, something that gives you more to play, no, more to be played with.

The other guests are gawking already, forgetting about their prejudices when it comes to the 'youngsters', just happy to be seeing their missy in action.

The mafiaboss sighs, breaking his whispering and speaking louder than before. “But if you cherish so much about that old geezer, he’ll be taken care of, no? Maybe even better than before, or am I wrong here, brother?”

He clicks with his mouth— is it a habit?— and looks at headman Park, who rolls his eyes, as if they’re sharing some secret you’re not a part of. But before you can fall into further confusion, your legs tighten around Mr. Choi’s wristwatch, as his thumb strokes the surface under your skirt one time, right across your cunt which has been heating up since the first time you saw the reflection of yourself in his silver cross. A pant leaves your mouth and you have to grind your ass over so you can somehow clench your legs together.

“You like that?”, Mr. Choi sneers, chuckling into your ear, as he continues to move his thick finger against your clit. "Of course you do. Let me hear more of those cute sounds, baby.”

You grab his bicep, heat crawling up your abdomen against his forearm, your crotch feeling more and more buzzed as the male works his fingertip into you. Nobody says anything, just murmuring insignificant sentences to keep up the chatty mood.

Headman Park in the meanwhile, crosses his arms, catching the attention of the mafiaboss.

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

Mr. Choi flashes an eye-smile and keeps groping your cunt, you melting more and more into his lap and under the heated gazes of the crowd. Your servant-colleagues don’t know what to do, or no, maybe they knew exactly that this would happen and think you deserve all of this shame, just in general not helping you escape the touch of the mafiaboss.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything,” headman Park says, looking indifferent, but his words don’t cross out the possibility that inside his pants, his cock isn’t growing too, how his arms are crossed, clenched around each other.

“Come on, baby,” Mr. Choi growls into your ear, “give that fucking bore a show, won’t you?”

You’re split open. He’s strong, oh gosh, so strong, taking not more than one push to grab you by your thigh and spread your legs, make you slip on his crotch, as he closes his knees together to support you from down under.

“San,” headman Park warns, but his mouth stays slightly open, tongue pressed against the surface of his upper teeth, suppressing a grin.

You flatten your back against Mr. Choi’s torso as an attempt to hide your face behind his neck, and breathe heavily against his freckled skin, the cold exterior of his pearly accessory grazes your chin.

“What?”, the male asks, taking his glass, his arm slithering under your armpit and his chin resting on your shoulder as he sips from it, not to forget the hand that is still pushed into the now moist fabric between your legs, moving in circular motion.

Headman Park doesn’t answer and folds his hands together, placing his elbows on the table, fingers touching his lower lip.

“Geez, brother, you should feel this cunt right now,” the mafiaboss wheezes, almost hiccuping from his excitement, “so fucking hot, you won’t believe.”

“Make her louder.”

Even Mr. Choi was surprised to hear that come out of the reserved CEO's mouth, and as he chuckles and takes the last sip from his whiskey, he puts down his glass once in for all to accept headman Park’s order.

With a slight lean forward, his free hand wraps around your neck and you gasp for air. Mr. Choi’s legs are spread so when you have to tuck in your pelvis, you can feel his bulge under your cunt. At this point, you don’t care for the piercing gazes anymore, and the chairman might as well give you a nice tip for the sight of you grinding your wet pussy into his biggest investor’s clothed cock. You’re such a master profiteer, Y/N, Jongho was right.

“Fuck, missy,” Mr. Choi grunts and he’s so frustrated he can’t take off more of your clothes, but it doesn’t prevent him from following the order when headman Park mutters, “grab her breasts.”

It is one shameless show.

You becoming needy and whiny on Choi San’s lap, the mafiaboss grinning, as CEO Park Seonghwa’s eyes are unmoving from your sullen, aroused expressions— it has persuaded the audience to want their own slice of fun, but even with hands wrapped around their no-use cocks, everybody in the room has their eyes sealed on the young servant whose only job was to refill some ice.

Mr. Choi can feel it; what a slut you are on top of him, how eagerly you’re grinding your cunt over his bulge, and how jealous the others are watching— and this includes all the blokes that are watching with cigars in their mouths, but also the servants that would have gladly taken your seat and not rub their hands over old, moist, wrinkly skin.

“Sir,” you whimper, as Mr. Choi knobs your breasts, his tough hands cupping each tit, just like headman Park commanded him.

Fuck, how he wishes to be able to see your face as well as well as headman Park does, but the sobby whines might as well do.

“So noisy on my cock,” Mr. Choi snarls, “you’re practically begging for attention, missy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you hiss and the mafiaboss inhales sharply, gasping, his cock jumping, very turned on by your sudden spunky tone. Bingo.

“Did you hear that, brother?”, he whales, tempting the headman to interact with him more as the main viewer of his performance, but the man to his friend is only raising an eyebrow. “Baby's got some zest in her. You like that, don’t you?”

Mr. Choi continues to coo headman Park into defeat, “You like ‘em feisty, brother. I know you, chief execution officer, sir. You wanna ram your cock into this little missy's pretty mouth, just admit it.”

Little missy's pretty mouth. "Say that again, shitbag," you hiss, but Mr. Choi grins and pries into your bust, working folds into your freshly-ironed shirt. "Listen, brother," he breathes, "It gets your cock fucking going, doesn't it?"

The mafiaboss chuckles and adds, so only you can hear it, "Definitely gets my cock going, baby."

Headman Park scans the room, and you can see how he shakes his head, and looks at Mr. Choi with a slight distaste. “You may leave soon.” 

“Really?”, Mr. Choi grins, beaming, grabbing your hips forcefully in the joy of it, and while the CEO’s words leave you misled, you sigh into the pressure of being pressed down deep into his muscled thigh, your cunt pulsating through his flesh.

“Change of plans.”

“Alright," he murmurs, just as offended as you are by his lack of reactions, but quickly catching up on his lust to hear, see, feel you more. "But not before I make this baby come."

“Punster,” headman Park jeers and it does occur to you that you’re hearing more of his soft voice than before, but when he looks at his wristwatch, you suppose you’re not doing well enough for him. Look at me, you rich-ass prude, you think and whine, being moved across Mr. Choi’s thigh by his own hands. Your clit feels hot, like it is seriously going to burn and fall off, but you, fuck, feel so good; the sounds just keep leaving your mouth, your high approaching very soon.

“How long were you thinking, brother?”, Mr. Choi asks and is nibbling at your neck, as he rams you over his thigh, fighting with the pace you're breathing wispy and digging your nails more and more into the glass-table until your fingertips turn white.

"Five.”

“Five? Make it ten.”

“You only last ten?”

“You can be such a bully, brother,” Mr. Choi fleers, and you have no fucking idea what they’re talking about, since you are feeling your orgasm coming in less than a minute, stars appearing in front of your eyes. “Make it ten.”

The male takes note of how you're bucking in your pelvis and uses his canine teeth to make your neck flame on, his hand placed roughly around your throat, as you become more sensitive to every move. "Sir," you whisper, a knot forming in your stomach.

Your clit is begging you for mercy at this point, demanding you to get the clothes off your legs so your slick has some way to escape, but you're drenching Mr. Choi's suit-pants in your wetness with stuttered heaving, ready to moan loudly in any second now if you could just find that one fucking spot—

"Are you gonna cum, baby? Right in front of everyone?", he murmurs against your neck and you nod repeatedly, raving your clothed clit on his thick, pillowy muscle, desperately chasing your high. "Come on," he snickers, "Show them what kind of slut missy is, huh? Such a good fucking slut for us, aren't you?"

"Yesyesyes," you whine, not caring for anything than your release, and Mr. Choi is being so kind as to continue breathing heavily into your ear to make you melt into bliss, but nothing gets you on more than the gentle smile that headman Park is sending your way, head slightly tilted to the back— is he nodding? Is he finally approving? Oh, fuck, you think, and you're doing the best job darting your hips non-stop to continue feeling your cunt be stroked by Mr. Choi's flesh, pursuing the CEO's praising acknowledgment. "Good fucking slut on my lap," the mafiaboss cackles, "come for daddy."

"You fucking weirdo," you falter, not wanting to call him "I'm never gonna call you—

Mmmuh!" Mr. Choi grabs you by your hair and tugs it harshly, making your back arch and your head rotate to his side. In the open mouth, his tongue plunges into your throat, the taste of woody herbs and bitter alcohol are flooding your tastebuds. Smearing all of your lipstick, his mouth is pressed against yours like he's sealing yours shut. You convulse your lower body in surprise of the sudden act and holy shit, get that one spot over your clit that's also stroking your gaping entrance, your body releasing all of its heat into one blaring, roaring zap, with your eyes rolling back your head, your stirred voice screaming, "FUCK!"

There is a gasp heard through the dining hall and you're not sure whether it was the chairman, a servant, or headman Park in front of you, but as you are spasming on Mr. Choi's thigh and your back arches to his chest, you feel like the world is expanding on you, peeping, intrusive onlookers cramming out their money to thank you for the show they got, white trickling through the linen of their underwear. 

Coming down from your high, weakened and all the while more aroused by the mafiaboss whispering the words "good girl" into your ear, you try to open your eyelids to catch headman Park putting on some black leather-gloves he got from his briefcase, muttering something under his breath to the mafiaboss.

“Go."

What the fuck?

Mr. Choi hooks his arm under your legs while he re-applies his lips to yours, and lifts you up like the pretty princess you are to most of the gawkers that don't stop watching, when he stands up.

Everybody has their eyes on the kiss the mafiaboss and servant missy are sharing, but headman Park doesn’t even look at you, when his partner starts carrying you to the elevator that's waiting for you at the wall about in the middle of the dining table, and just retrieves his open briefcase from the floor. Has he had enough of you already?

“Where are we—“, you breathe, but Mr. Choi kisses you silent, tongue forcing its entry, preventing you from figuring out what's happening, after the mafiaboss puts you down in front of the door and pushes you against the frame roughly. Cheering and hooting encourages him to continue rubbing his thumb over your skin as the other ringed fingers are holding your thigh, and you're pressed against his leg, virtually fenced in by Mr. Choi while he pushes the button for the lift to come.

His eyes are squinting to the side while he works his lips against you, in a way confirming that all of the guests (except the CEO) are begrudgingly anticipating the next actions of the mafiaboss, not caring how the headman is slowly pushing his seat away from the table to get more leg-space, which you seem to be the only person noticing it.

The golden door opens with a bell dinging the elevator’s arrival, and Mr. Choi grabs you by your ass, leading the way inside it. You can't see it correctly with your eyes closed, can only feel his big arms push into your frame, but he even makes for a show-like exit, burlesquely saluting the audience with two fingers, clicking with his mouth. It must really be a habit, you think, and giggle into the kiss.

The men attempt to throw bankrolls into your space and some succeed, some don't, but while you're glad your plan worked out, you aren't too sure what you've just done with, or for the mafiaboss.

Your heated kiss continues and because you want to feel him, you unbutton his shirt that doesn’t need that much working, three buttons being pushed open by your jellylike hands. Before you can unclothe him though, Mr. Choi pushes his arm against the mirror next to your head, stopping you to take a look at his wristwatch. He strokes his hair to the back with the other hand, revealing some of his meaty abs, and once he’s reached the backside of his head, he slides his fingers down his neck and around his Adam's apple to scratch it, announcing, “Ten minutes on the clock. Shit, brother's dick must be fucking exploding in his pants right now."

“Sir?”, you ask, overwhelmed by the words that are not making sense in your head, but also distracted by his hand that’s around your tie.

“Given he really could've finished in five but,” he yanks you towards his face. “I wanted to have you a bit more for myself, missy.”

He smiles, very arrogantly like the patronizing fuck he is, like he knows how strong he is, what a dominating aura he possesses, but at this point, in between the mirrors and on this black, marbled floor, you are not at the chairman’s dinner anymore, aren’t a servant anymore– you aren’t bound to any authority, are you?

“If you fucking call me ‘missy’ again, I’ll bite your fucking dick off.”

Except for the moment that you’re talking to him, a mafiaboss, whose breast is marked by— and you can see it very clearly now for it fits perfectly into yours— hands that have shared the same, if not a similar experience with you.

“How’d you know I was into biting, baby?”

And holy fuck, his back looks even crazier.

“God, sir,” you breathe out in awe and a little bit of fear. You can count the lines of red scratches on his back and as you finally let his shirt fall from his shoulders, the reflection of his muscles, how they relax under your touch. You become starstruck. Everything about him is so scarring, but fuck, how it attracts you, the wildness, the savagery— there’s something so free about him.

"What, baby? You like what you're seeing? How naughty..."

Ten minutes aren’t a lot, but Mr. Choi makes his best attempt to hurry over the trivial parts of fucking you. He steps closer, your ass hitting the handrail, legs crossing together, and your buttons pop in one rip, as his two hands rupture your blouse open. He lets his shirt drop to the floor, all the while his lips clash against the nook of your neck, making you sigh under the luminous lights of the elevator and grab his neck. You’re getting hazy, horny; damn, it’s been so long you’ve had a good fuck. Satisfactory sex is another luxury you were postponing for later.

With his lips sewn on your shoulder, kissing and forcing his tongue against a spot he deems especially tasty, the half-naked male unzips your skirt to finally reveal the black pantyhose that looks soaked in your slick. After he chuckles at the sight of it, Mr. Choi licks over his lips and cups your jaw with his hand, drawing a trail of insatiable kisses across your skin.

“Still wanna bite my dick off?”, he asks with a sly smirk, breathy, having caught your aroused look locked on his silver chains, his jacked upper body inviting you to get your mouth in there until it’s molded around your teeth.

“Come on, baby,” the male provokes you, “You think I’m gonna fuck you just like this? Think I’m gonna ram myself inside your cute fucking cunt ‘cause I’m such a big scary fucking man?”

You inhale sharply. “N- no, I…”, you breathe out, letting your tongue run over your teeth.

“Aw, baby, am I making you shy?”, Mr. Choi hoots, “I didn’t think you were a shy one. You were pretty noisy on my thigh for your cunt, weren’t you? Getting all the sounds out for brother to hear them… You really served a show there, baby.”

Your mouth only lets out stammered gibberish– you have never learnt how to talk dirty, but Mr. Choi uses your opened lips to ram his tongue into it again anyway, and you're almost proud to say you've gotten used to it.

He breathes rashly through his nose, and he tastes less of bourbon but more of dulcet desire, mixed in with the red of your lipstick sitting on his lip. Your knee strokes his erection while he gets his hands behind your back to get your bra off, lips clashing and raving against each other. “Letting your body talk for you?”, Mr. Choi husks, panting at having his overstrained cock touched. He relieves you from the pressure around the bust and continues to ramble. "I knew I could have a lot of fun with you the second I laid my eyes on you.” You pant and reunite your lips with his. "Little missy, such a whore for the rich."

He’s overconfident he’s seeing right through you, it infuriates you. Mr. Choi massages his hands into your breasts, the cold rings grazing sharply into your warm flesh, and as your knee is still between his crotch, you huff. You can be a whore for the rich when you’re earning money, but right now, you’re doing things for your own pleasure.

“Are you going to have a lot of fun with me?”, you sing-song in a high-pitched female voice to the mafiaboss that’s immediately taken aback, and you know the word 'missy' is on top of his tongue again, when you interrupt him with a quick jab of your knee into his groin. "Shit-eating fat-cat."

Mr. Choi grunts, head tilting down. His feline eyes meet your foxy ones, and while you weren't preparing for a staredown, the mafiaboss smirks and bites his lip. 

He has a lot to say, you can see it. There’s something glimmering under the lust-drunken layer behind his eyes, and it’s deep, goes deeper, but for some reason, the mafiaboss, who just so despicably couldn’t hold his mouth, doesn’t let out the words that’s crossing his mind.

“Sir–” 

Wrong deduction.

Mr. Choi scowls in laughter, and you guess he meant to joke with you, but he means to play with you much more, when he, once again, lifts you up, by your waist this time, and balances you on the handrail.

Resting his forearm on your thighs to stabilize you, Mr. Choi digs in his pocket to fetch his cigarette box, looking at himself through the mirror and shaking some strands out of his face. "Shit-eating fat-cat," he repeats with a lisp, pulling out one of the slim rolls with the corner of his mouth, and he continues to chuckle, as he glances at you through his eyelashes, "you should've said that to the old geezer when you had the chance to, baby."

"The chairman?"

No answer. Mr. Choi lights his cigarette with a zippo, and keeps it lit in his mouth, as he, with no forewarning, tears open your pantyhose from your crotch with both of his hands, spreading your legs wide. You have to get your hands around his head to be able to keep yourself on the handrail.

“Why do you look so scared? Think I’m gonna fuck you?”, he lisps. “I’m just taking a good look, baby. What a pretty cunt you got there, baby.”

You gulp. Mr. Choi slides his index finger across your heated folds through the fabric and your cunt clenches together, wanting to be filled up. “Sir,” you sigh, and the mafiaboss pulls in smoke from his cig, raising an eyebrow.

“What, baby? ‘You need something?”, he asks, “You’re not a fucking servant anymore, or do you need to be ordered around, missy?”

You try to look angry, but Mr. Choi only pouts and presses his finger through your panties, soaking them in your slick that’s gathered at your entrance. “Desperate to please the money-man? So wet for him…”

“Fuck you,” you mewl, but Mr. Choi knows what he’s doing when he thumbs your clit and exhales smoke into your face, hiding his face for a short second which gives you confidence. “I need you… to fuck me.”

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear.”

“Please, sir, just… fuck me, please…”

“Louder.”

“God! Just fuck me! Didn’t you say we have ten minutes? Make them fucking count!”

“There we go, baby. My slutty little missy. Oh, baby, you’re growing on me, brother’s gonna hate that.” 

You huff and Mr. Choi slides your panties off your legs, taking a short glimpse at his wristwatch. “Damn, ten’s really a short time.”

How many minutes have passed? Ten already? You know you said it, but you mentioned it only because it made sense, if you’re honest, you have no clue what the time is worth for. Aren't these the men who have time for gold?

The biting smell of tobacco enters your nose, making you cough out loud. Is smoking even allowed in the elevator? Wait, wait, wait, no, maybe you should worry about other things, for example what you're going to do when those ten minutes are over, when all of this is over. They clearly have some type of plan and thing they are carrying out right now, but you don’t know how much you’re invited in there. 

Mr. Choi finishes his quick break, inhaling one last puff and keeping his cig between his lips again, and his hands unbuckle his belt in silence, while you contemplate.

Clanking, ruttling, and steps begin to thump behind the door— have any of you two even pressed a button? The mafiaboss looks concentrated, fixed on your cunt, taking out his throbbing, panging cock out his underwear, stroking it a few times to god, fuck, finally get to touch it after having been dry-humped hot.

Squelching, huffing, and voices echo through the floor— is that the chairman you hear? You can only yelp, when Mr. Choi drags off your panties and slathering his thick fingers across your folds in one, then penetrating with another forceful movement.

"Fuck!", you hiss out, grabbing the handrail next to your hips, trying to balance yourself on it still. The mafiaboss snickers into your ear, and tours through your cunt, all the while it appears that all hell is breaking loose outside.

BANG!

"Sir, what—!"

"Shhh, baby," Mr. Choi hushes you, and takes out his cig with the fingers that are now glistening with your wetness, placing it on top of his lips vertically to the scar that is accompanying his smug smirk.

BANG!

"You got nothin' to worry 'bout, baby," he lulls, "we're just eatin' the pheasant and the egg here," and exhales smoke into your face out his mouth-hole, which distracts you from the third, fourth—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another proverb, pheasant and the egg— 'two birds with one stone'. Mr. Choi unfolds his hand as if he was counting the minutes, or the shots— wait, yes, shots! Fuck, those are gun-shots, right? You've never heard something so loud ever in your life, where does someone get guns from in South Korea? What even would they need guns for? Why would they use them? What the fuck is happening outside?!

"Oh, fuck!", you moan out, before fear and realization can crawl up your scalp and take away your lusting for the male, Mr. Choi has jerked his hip up, his cock gliding into you smoothly as if your cunt was made for him, the length and girth perfectly curling inside. Your back arches, at least as far as you can arch it, and he grins bemusedly at your jolted reaction.

BANG!

With every blast that follows, Mr. Choi is thrusting into you, first slowly, but then adding more speed and vigor as he goes, or as the blasting goes, making you shakily watch yourself be wrecked by the broad man through the reflection on the other side, your legs dangling with his rough movement.

You don't know how he's fucking you through your tightness, because with each ducking of his hips it feels like your inner walls are expanding more and ungodly more, as if he was piercing you in half.

Small puffs of smoke leave Mr. Choi's mouth each time he pants out raspy "oh baby"s and loud claps of him slapping your ass overtone the screaming, scrambling noises outside, as you two work your lower bodies against and into each other, growing more passionate, throbbing feverishly.

"Fuck, baby," Mr. Choi hisses, cigarette tilting in his mouth, as his face frowns together. "So fucking good for daddy, aren't you? So fucking tight and wet, such a good fucking girl—"

The screams outside are dying down, but the mafiaboss and you are getting louder, breathier, lustier; with your head falling backwards, hitting the mirror, the twisting feeling of fear and the ecstasy to be bouncing on Mr. Choi's big cock mix up like one hellish drink, boiling and churning inside of you.

Smashing both his hands on each of you ass-cheeks to dig his fingers into them and get more stability to ram into you so fast, and oh boy, it's so fucking fast, you're going to spiral— Mr. Choi sputters, "Are you gonna come? Are you going to come for daddy, baby? Greedy baby gonna take daddy's huge fucking load?"

The male is unraveling, his once low, stable voice turning into a whiny, hoarse, cracked mess just like you, practically urging, begging you to finally take the name ‘daddy’ into your mouth.

"Come on baby, say it for me, huh? Feels good to be my slut?", he disentangles, "Be a good slut for daddy, baby."

"I'm not gonna call you— that, fuckhead!", you moan, though your insides are curdling together to finally be released, the knot tightening with each drop of sweat that is forming on your boiling face.

"Really? Think you can afford to misbehave, baby?", Mr. Choi snickers and spits his cig on the floor, your ass being handled at an insane speed, his cock slipping in and out of you with rough ease. He takes it upon himself to dig his teeth into the nook of your neck, biting you heftily, your pulse knocking against your throat, as you feel his cock run in and out of your cunt. Your head goes light and dazed, but before you can gasp out your high from being fucked, bitten, sent to bliss, the male sinks you deep into his cock fully, it does not give you the last thrust you would need to—

"Fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimper, needing to tremble, but unable to move because his hands are restricting you from any movement, and you continue to bring out a string of weak "pleasepleaseplease" that bounces back from the mafiaboss, who is raising an eyebrow, waiting for the magic word to be spoken out of your wet lips. Tears have formed at the corner of your eye and he thumbs it away, grinning coyly.

"Fuck you, I'mnotgonna fucking, ugh—!", you sob, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"Aww, you wanna hate daddy so bad, don’t you?”

“Fuuuck you!” Whines leave your mouth, wanting to cum, wanting to move, wanting for Mr. Choi to continue fucking into you and not wipe away your tears.

“Just say you love me, baby,” he heaves and returns his hand to your hip.

Thrusting into you once with a clap against your groin, to make your cunt clench around him, and then twice with the last blood-curdling BANG! from outside, his cock is deep inside you. He feels you tighten, pulsate, craving to be released, but Mr. Choi will not move again to your liking until you finally let go of yourself, which riles you up with no hope.

"F— Fuuuck, okay!", you scream out, annoyed, angry, wanting to fucking cum; "Daddy!", you sob and Mr. Choi smirks, instantly getting to work to toast the adieu of your pride. Thumb on your clit, he circles around your sensitive bud to double the tension you feel through all of your body, while you gutter, "fuck me, daddy, please, make me cum, please, daddy, please—"

He laughs, no, howls— elated, animated, drunk, and then, with his strong, buff fucking arms, pounds you into his cock like a punching bag, your ass hitting his pelvis so many times until you have to use his gelled hair as a last resort to hold yourself up and not push yourself from the handrail with your head against the mirror, but he holds you, holds you steadily in his grip.

"Good god, good fucking missy, such a good fucking slut for me, cum all over my cock–   all over my fucking cock, baby," Mr. Choi grunts, and the string that was keeping you balanced snaps, your orgasm hitting you like that makes your insides tighten around the mafiaboss and his throbbing girth, your whole body being flushed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure which you drink up whole. His cockhead rubs against your sweetspot, you riding out the high while seeing nothing but bliss.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, and your fingers grip into the thick skin of his back, and with Mr. Choi's hips not stopping to hit your pelvis, there are additional, injuring, deep red marks on there with every thrust. You’re scratching him like a beast wanting to tear up its prey, but the beast is fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. His cock does not stop grazing against your deepest spot, tears rolling down your heated cheek, and your mouth is unable to get out the words you want it to when you get the feeling that he's going to cum soon.

"O- out," you warn him, but the mafiaboss makes a disappointed face, “I– I really can’t afford a child, p-please pull out–!”

He draws his eyebrows in, scoffs and looks you deep in the eyes, his muscular body tucked in, murmuring, rambling out his whiskey-painted throat, “Is that really your only problem, baby? That you don’t have enough money?” His forehead leans against yours and your eyelids flutter open– you are being a mitt around his dick– and he pouts in pity, his iron cross hanging from his chest, as he talks to you.

Mr. Choi gets his hand flat on your lower belly and presses down on it, feeling himself bulge inside you. He moves his hips slowly, his cockhead dragging across your sweetspot, while he gutters, “you’d look so sexy as a mother, don’t you think, baby? With the tummy and all.”

“S- sir, please I–”

"Come on, do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for a fucking kid? God, how fucking annoying– I’m not that kind of man, baby,” Mr Choi growls, his voice vibrating against your cheek, as he charges his forehead deeper against yours, “I still got some honor.”

You shake your head, unsure whether there are pills for after in the pharmacies, or whether the mafiaboss will really be there to be with you as he promises, but Mr. Choi continues to beg in his low breathy, guttery voice. “Baby,” he rumbles, pressing even harder on your abdomen, your ass being pushed into the handrail that you’re sure it’s going to leave one red straight mark, and his cock is almost exploding from the edge, “Let me, no, let daddy cum into your tight cunt, baby, please.”

God, he wants you. He wants you so bad, doesn’t he?

"Y- you should see yourself," you chuckle, stroking over Mr. Choi's gelled hair, and his head tilts up a little bit as your fingers get tangled in his black locks, the white of his eyes making him look like a wild dog waiting for its treat. "F-fucking do it, you fucking slut."

"Fuck, baby," he laughs, out of breath, "You’re really a price."

Mr. Choi hammers his hips into you, until the stars in front of you all look like wishes falling from the sky. Both of you feel it, how his cock just feels so right, fits in like your cunt is a fucking glove which is full and getting even fuller.

"God, fuck," Mr. Choi grunts from the bottom of his throat, his hot cum lading into you, and it's like your lower body is melting with it, becoming heavier with every drop he's unloading inside.

"Take all of my fucking cum," he husks and your faces clash together for one finishing wild kiss. Mr. Choi sucks on your lower lip, as he fucks his ejaculation deeper and deeper into your hole with slow thrusts, until he bucks up his pelvis the last time and moans out a raspy, “perfect fucking missy with a perfect fucking cunt..."

Ding!

For a man that uses his mouth so sparingly, his tongue surely works wonders.

"Sir, are you—"

Headman Park has entered the elevator without a word, pulling off his leather gloves, and with Mr. Choi stepping away, he has all the place he requires to get on his knees and throw your leg over his shoulder, his wet and warm muscle delving into your throbbing cunt. You've been bereaved of the time to inspect what was behind or around him when the door closed, but maybe that's irrelevant anyways. What is relevant, is how impatient, but also how careful the CEO remains, and how he still tries his best to slowly sift his tongue into your folds, feeling every inch of your wetness. He’s been dying to do this.

"Fuck, sir!"

"Please," the CEO chuckles, hastily pulling the black leathery from his hands to put it back in his briefcase that he's been carrying, but he doesn't miss your cunt once, purling over your clit and glancing at you. "Call me Seonghwa, princess."

You could cum right here and there, just at the sight of this pretty man looking up to you, who has laid out his first name and put it into yours, scream it out loud until everyone hears what a princess you've been made of.

Princess. You knew his eyes were different, but you didn’t know they saw the world differently too. Oh, how you wish you could see more of his world.

"Aww, what? That's why you're still a foreigner in our country, brother! 'Can't be dropping our titles," Mr. Choi huffs and lights himself a second cigarette, filling the elevator with smoke and tobacco. How his breath really doesn't smell is questionable to you.

Just like you, the CEO, or how you're allowed to call him now— Seonghwa, ignores his partner's words, laps over your clit with his tongue, gently easing into your cunt with his clean fingers, and your soft sighs are like a reward for him, for whatever he's done outside.

"Respect, brother, 's all about respect..."

You tighten your thighs around Seonghwa's neck. The charcoal-haired has closed his eyes, sighing into the taste of you, and you are flawlessly overlooking the loud mafiaboss, just completely concentrating on the commitment the CEO is eating you out with. His head fits magically between your legs, he works his fingers so flawlessly into you, this must be fate— and if it's not, you're going to make it your future in any which way possible. You're falling. No, flying; never coming down.

"Seonghwa," you whine, and your hand glides over the hooked male's forehead, his hair feeling smooth under your touch as he presses his tongue slowly— in circular motion— against your clit to keep you on the high, but not in a way that would make you trip over.

"Mmf," the mafiaboss in front of you huffs, clearly attracted, enticed by the way you've exhaled the other male’s first name, scratching his temple with the fingers that are holding his cigarette.

"Whether you wanna call me San or 'daddy', baby," the scarred male, no, San, the fucker grins, "I'm gonna be hearing both either way."

"Fuck—", you moan out, having to take a breath because of how Seonghwa has curled his fingers into you with his tongue ready to shovel anything into his mouth that comes out, "you, fuckhead!"

The CEO is giggling a bit, finding your tone very amusing— and he tries to tell you this by looking up and slanting his eyes a friendly way, no, a way that you've never even conjured up the fantasy to perceive him, the cold-faced Park Seonghwa who hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol tonight. What pureness in a man...

"I liked 'fat-cat' better,” San snickers and goes through his hair that definitely needs combing, turning around and looking at himself through the mirror, though his eyes squint towards Seonghwa's reflection on the other side, now again lost in your cunt, taking off his jacket and folding it in half behind his back.

"Brother, you're eating my cum, by the way," the mafiaboss jabs, puffing out smoke while he's decidedly getting hard again in his trousers. San really can't hide his emotions on his face, can he? His lips are pursed, eyebrows slightly pulled in— how obvious. The man is jealous and doesn't want to admit it, you're sure of it.

"Shut up," you hiss, having become a bit comfortable with teasing the frustrated, outwitted mafiaboss. Ten minutes were definitely too little for him, but you've already rid his thigh, let him cum inside, and Seonghwa is simply too good with his tongue right now.

"Fuuuck," you whisper, and feel every drowsy twirl of his finger inside you, but it's slow, so slow, Seonghwa is swerving around every sponginess inside you, savoring the contraction of your inner space, and how your muscles tighten, when he licks over your clit, he enjoys this; enjoys you.

And so it continues, Park Seonghwa exploring every detail of your cunt as if he's a sommelier tasting the rarest of fluids, appreciating every drop that lands on his tongue, his fingers making sure that they don't go to waste.

"Shit," San comments, "I should've eaten her out, too."

The CEO is not cocky about it, about the way you are grabbing into his hair and squirming, how he has to slightly lift you up so you don't fall from your position. And then, when Seonghwa thinks your taste has perfectly coated his palate, speeds up.

"Fuck, sir," and the title slips out of you, like a habit you can't change for good when you feel so small. The CEO between your legs doesn't mind it though, at least doesn't say anything on it and just lets his fingers hit your sweet spot until there is a distinctive "Seonghwa" leaving sighed out your lips.

"I'm going to—", you announce, but the male has been long aware of it, preparing himself more access by bending his upper body to angle himself across your cunt, giving his partner a better view on how you glisten in arousal.

San in front of you is standing frozen, with his cigarette slowly burning out in his mouth, and you recompense the lack of his cock in your cunt by moaning louder, so your voice can vibrate around his erection. He grins and gets a tongue to his canine tooth, naked upper body still glowing in sweat, muscles shining, cock twitching every time he hears you breathe, and breathe more intensely, "make me cum, Seonghwa, please!"

"I knew you would taste delicious," Seonghwa murmurs, silently, rather for himself, and this must be how he sounds when he's drunk, because he is so high on your taste, "but this is ambrosial, princess."

You curl up your pelvis, and Seonghwa holds you by your hips, as his tongue picks up in speed, drawing out every word he hasn't spoken tonight on your labia, stamping them into your clit, all the while his fingers row in more and every last drop.

"C- coming~", you purr, and your eyes close down, your hands deep in Seonghwa's scalp, exhaling the weight of your worries, that flushes down into the man who seems to have none in his life, and he breathes into your hot cunt through his nose, not letting go of it until he's made sure that your hips tremble around his head. "P- please, f- fuck, fuck, feels so good—"

Pumping the remaining come into you, Seonghwa licks up your cunt and kisses your clit until you go completely flaccid, your arms giving in, but Seonghwa catches you by your hand, kissing your thigh with his swollen pink lips.

With your body relaxed, your ass feels a bite sore, having been prodded into the iron rail for so long. You grab into Seonghwa's hand and try to push yourself up, but ultimately fail at getting yourself into a more comfortable position.

"San, hold her."

"Huh?", he asks, "'Need something more snuggly, baby? Or what did you call her again, brother?"

"Princess," the CEO answers immediately and you have to suppress a girly giggle, as Seonghwa turns his head around, lips still pressed against your thigh. He presumably sends San an admonitory look to hurry up, and gets up from his knees.

The mafiaboss shrugs, not offended by being ordered around. He puts out the cigarette against the mirror and cracks his neck by rolling his head around, his thick neck dousing into your sight as he does so. He's so intimidating, you think, but he's on his way to coast those monster-arms behind your back, hands down to each of your hamstrings to, "up you go," pick you up like real royalty. The giggle escapes your mouth but you don't feel the slightest embarrassed nor do you have a reason to be. You are sunken deep into San’s cushiony arms— his muscles make for a great seat, and hovering, air hitting your hot cunt, as your legs spread for the CEO in front of you when you fall into the elbows. You yelp, but the giggles just keep coming, making San in the mirror in front of you wink at you, cackling, "you like that, princess?"

Seonghwa smiles, satisfied by your enjoyment of this position and approaches you once more. "I have yet to kiss you, Y/N," he says with his sweet voice, and his gentle hands find your chin and waist, your eyes blossoming open for him to stare into.

Even San shuts up now, and you suppose he is too taking part in the beauty that is the embrace of you and Seonghwa; two sets of lips, crazing each other, meeting for one flowery affair, breathing out small vapors of life. You can taste yourself, which means that Seonghwa is fully consumed by your aroma.

God, you think again, your cunt tingling at how Seonghwa tugs at his tie, pulling it side to side as he kisses you— the golden 'π'-pin clanks shrill to the floor— everything about Seonghwa is so...

Clean?

You are inhaling the mellow smell of his satiny skin, and the CEO unbuttons his shirt with proficient, skilfull flicks of his fingers. He is so handsome, handsomely pretty, and even when it’s drenched in your fluids, his skin shines on its own, like Seonghwa has a light shining within. Once you can see his bare chest and get lost on the smooth surface, your eyes dive down, admiring his slim, yet very muscular physique.

Seonghwa gets his tie and drags off his shirt by tugging at one sleeve with his hand, the white fabric revealing the rest of body with one clean pull that matches one of the curtains.

"W-", and you have to jump back with your head to get the full spectacle that's presented in front of you, exhaling in awe— "Wow.."

"Not so blank, our brother, is he?", San chuckles from behind of you and lowers his head to press his chin against your temple, surveying the same sight.

Two colossal, monstrous dragons, red and black, are colliding, looped, entangled all around Seonghwa's right arm, fighting for dominance on his skin. The raven hydra has its jaw wide open where Seonghwa looks to his shoulder with a rather shy smile once he sees your reaction, baring its teeth towards his heart, while the crimson dragon ends at the CEO's wrist, sitting on top of his pulse.

"Would you believe me it was brother's idea, baby?"

"As if," Seonghwa murmurs, folding his shirt into a square.

San chuckles again, re-shuffling himself and pressing your back close to his stomach, granting the back of your head to rest at his collarbone. "I asked her if she would believe, brother."

You watch the delicate lines, the elegant strokes of tint meeting on his skin, but while your first impression made you believe they carried a certain viciousness with their svelte bodies, the second sight presents you a different image of two forces maneuvering into each other as a reminder that they both co-exist as supreme. It's not one another they're reviling against, it's the bearer of the both who is threatened by their fangs. Their existence is a warning reminder, but also a sign of pride.

"I believe it's... beautiful."

“Aw, you’re so sweet, baby.”

You haven't seen many tattoos in your life, none in the mountains, and even in the city the only observable tattoos were those of the sleazy guys in alleys that wait when you're done with your job to gape at your uniform. They got tigers and other animals roaring on their bodies to hide the fact they don't have the fighting skills to keep up, but for Seonghwa, a CEO, to have this amount of ink under his skin is a commitment and to imagine he’s hiding that under his ironed shirt and black jacket, no, that you are seeing it right now, it’s… You’re overwrought, steamed up, aflame.

"Wanna touch it, baby?", San asks, and you nod eagerly. Seonghwa chuckles, “Go for it.”

You let your fingertip ghost over the dragons' scales, tailing their curvature. Goosebumps form on Seonghwa's arm and his hand finds its way to your head, stroking your cheek, as you meet the red beast's eyes.

The mafiaboss whispers, almost sentimentally, "No blood or tears."

Another expression, which proves to you that the tattoo was undoubtedly his idea, but you see it, the romance that is spoken from the male's skin, regardless of the little insight you have on both of them. Loyalty, reverence, creed, a belief and a duty, and before you know it, you want Seonghwa to enwrap you with his arms and never let you go, which he does.

His slender hand cloaks the left side of your head, and he pulls himself into a kiss, while he unbuckles his belt with his other hand.

You don't know how much you understand of this situation, no, you don't know how much you want to understand of this situation.

You've been on your own. That's all you ever had after you left home: Your body and soul, the windstorms of the mountains pushing you from the back to keep going, and you've lived your best life living for yourself that way, in bliss, in ignorance— in peace, but what is peace in a place where you can't move by yourself? In a world that’s maimed by the rich, and sure, it may be that you’ve chosen your path, but you were never walking a road that was yours, always trailing behind something.

Nameless, that’s what you thought you would need to be.

Your monks wanted to be called their title like everyone else, it would have been disrespectful to ask Lady Kim for hers which you now regret, and not even as a secret did your old man tell you his name, but you— you, Y/N, you have a name and you want to scream it, live it as loud as you can, hear it echo back with a volume that feels stronger when it rings back.

You could have settled on being acknowledged by your supervisor to earn some good money, but this is what you’re here for, aren’t you? Why you trusted your gut to stick to the scary men? Why you walked to them with confident steps, even when a nervous knot was forming together inside you? Did you go as what, an act of defiance? One of independence? To prove yourself that you were still standing on your own feet?

"Speaking of, brother..."

Yes, with no shame.

"You really enjoyed yourself back there, didn’t you?”, San asks. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

Seonghwa is kissing you down your breast, observing closely how you breathlessly react to his tongue twirling around your nipple.

"You left me no other chance," the older male hums, coating your circular buds with his saliva, bringing out your heavenly sighs every chance he gets, stroking himself to the sounds of your pleasure.

"Well, I would have made sure you still fucked her, brother."

“Sure,” Seonghwa lisps and positions his cockhead at your entrance. 

You try to grab San's shoulder behind you, as the male pushes himself inside, and your torso rotates to the side with your eyebrows pulling together, your cunt being spread apart.  “F-fuck,” you exhale, and Seonghwa kisses the corner of your lip to soothe you. Your cunt squelches around his cock and your hips roll by themselves, wanting to take more of his length.

"Shit, look at her go," the mafiaboss woos, "Fuck yourself out, brother."

"Think you’ll miss this?", Seonghwa snickers and it must be the first question he has asked today. “Y- yeah, you will!”, you snap, feeling eager to be acknowledged for how good your cunt wraps around his throbbing heat. 

“Oh, princess,” the CEO laughs, and your stomach drops because of how pretty his laughter sounds, and he caresses your cheek, only making your confusion and desire to finally uncover what the two men have obviously been keeping from you grow bigger. You don’t want to say it abruptly, but you three are naked, in a confined space, skins pressed against each other, so you believe you’re worth some type of explanation– or are you not?

“C- can you tell me what’s going to happen?”, you whine, and Seonghwa moves his hips, grabbing you by your waist to get his whole length. “Are you, fuck, going to leave me?”

“I dunno, brother, you call it,” San mutters. “It was your plan.”

“D- don’t!”

“It’s barely my plan anymore,” Seonghwa breathes, bucking his pelvis in, his cockhead being sucked in by your sensitive cunt.

“Don’t leave me!”

“You needed a distraction, brother, I got you one.”

“No,” Seonghwa chuckles, but in his heat, he kisses you and glances up at San while his tongue brushes against your lip. “But I’ll admit she saved us some jail-time, San.”

They continue talking over your pleas, and though you would have loved to ask a second time how the night was going to end, your brain has started to give into the pleasure once San folds your legs together, holding you by your hamstrings, giving Seonghwa an easier angle to fuck you senseless. 

“F- fu-huuck,” you breathe out, and your eyes are disappearing behind your molten, droopy eyelids, with Seonghwa cumming for the second time on your abdomen and cleaning it up with his handkerchief, and you don’t even know when it was, that San crammed out his cock   again, but you can definitely feel the difference of his girth, when he re-enters your used cunt, your legs shakily landing on the floor. They feel wobbly, your thighs having gone loose, and the mafiaboss has to hold you by your arms behind your back to support you.

“Can’t take it anymore, baby?”, San whispers into your ear, and his voice is low, very low, you don’t know how much time has passed since you could make out any of his words, but it feels like you’re back here, in the elevator, and Seonghwa is putting on his belt again.

“I c- can!”, you manage to whine out, not wanting the night to end, not wanting to return to your small apartment, not wanting these two to be gone from your life. “I can!”, you repeat yourself, when San lets out a mockful cackle. “You’re not going to fucking leave me here, San!”

“Who said anything about leaving you here, baby?”, he asks you, and he does mean his confusion, but the sarcastic undertone makes you desperate grow desperate. San frowns. “What did I tell you, baby?”

“You aren’t telling me shit, San!”, you sob, and his cock running through you prevents you from finding a braver voice, his two hands find your wrists to bind them together in his grip. “Aren’t you such a smartie,” he growls into your ear, hot air hitting your dissolving ear.

“Brother,” San calls out, and the addressed man is busy opening up his briefcase, getting on his knee. “I’m still waiting on you, y’know.”

“If you had stuck to the plan, th–” Seonghwa murmurs, but the mafiaboss falls into his word. “Then we would have fuckin’ send the bitch to prison and someone else would have him killed him, but there! You know I didn’t come with the fucking patience for that, brother! Geezer was getting on my fucking nerves.”

Killed?

“And don’t you talk back now,” San warns, “It was you who killed all of ‘em, so you figure out how you’re going to carry that one out.”

Killed?

“You already know how I’m going to carry this out.” Seonghwa smirks. “But you’re stopping me, San.”

“Augh, brother, you’re too sober for your own sake!” San’s cock is too deep in your cunt and your body is too much in his control for you to stop moaning like a bitch, but in your head, you’re puzzling together tonight’s happenings.

Expensive whiskey. Ice cubes. Ten minutes, gunshots, black leather gloves– “killed.”

Oh, Y/N.

“What did you do with the chairman, Seonghwa?”, you moan out, feeling how the mafiaboss is ramming himself into you at a sloppy, greedy pace, prolonging how much he can be inside you before he comes again, and you don’t know whether his heavy breathing can cover up the silence that it takes for the CEO to react to your question.

Seonghwa is still kneeled on the floor, when he rotates his head, smiling, his eyebrows pushed up. “What do you think I did?” His second question of the day.

“I- I,” you stutter, but San shakes his head, and interrupts you with his voice still loose from the alcohol, “you really don’t know how to keep up a good mood, brother!”, grabbing you by your chin and yanking your head up. “Lemme make my baby cum first!”

You can’t see Seonghwa anymore. You can barely see anything anymore, you’re counting your fifth or sixth orgasm of the night, cunt growing hotter with each time San thrusts into it, and with your breath being cut off, you slowly feel your arms lose their responsibility, tingling up from where your wrists are crossed behind your back. His cockhead is flaying against your g-spot and your thighs tremble at how used you’re being, eyes falling in, throat feeling tied up.

“S- San,” you manage to cough out, back arching for your final cry of pleasure, and San grins, letting go of your wrists, which makes you immediately fall to the front, finding safety against the mirror with both of your hands. He smacks his hands against your ass and lunges into you until your whole breast is pushed against the cold wall. 

“Come on, baby, come for me,” San roars, and you wail, tired, exhausted, feeling the orgasm drown you like another wave in the ocean of bliss you’ve been swimming in, whining out, “coming, coming for you, San!”

The mafiaboss presses himself against your back, his silver cross being imprinted into your neck, as he unloads himself, his last drops of hot cum overflowing out of you. “Fucking slut… So fucking good…”

He kisses your jaw repeatedly and looks at how tiredly closed your eyes are in the mirror, cooing “aww, baby.” San strokes away a strand of hair and gets himself off your body, pulling out. “You look like you need some sleep, baby.”

You are trying to catch your breath, grabbing the handrail to hold yourself up, as it sounds like San is putting on his shirt again. They’re gonna fucking leave you here, aren’t they? Leave you here in the elevator with the– with the fucking bankrolls on the floor of the fucking men you fucking– Oh god… Keep breathing, Y/N. Keep on breathing.

“I mean all I’m saying… you know… lobsters and crabs are friends, pal.”

What the fuck is he on again…

“You’re making this hard on yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything, just sayin’ that she just grew on me, that’s all.”

Your legs tremble, as you try straightening them to stand up and see what the two are scheming again, but as you turn your body around, ass against the handrail again, you hear a very unfamiliar clicking in front of your forehead area which is not coming out of San’s mouth.

“You’ve grown soft. That’s what you did.”

“Ahhh, fuck you, brother.”

“Pathetic.”

You see a hole, and it also doesn’t take you long to see Seonghwa ready to pull the trigger, the mafiaboss leaning into the corner of the elevator, arms crossed, looking at you with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, pressing the button that leads to the lobby.

The night is over.

“A- are you going to– oh my g-god, are you going to kill me…?”

“Yes, princess.”

Your heart is going to burst, you could puke out so many words right now, but you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to die, not when you felt so fucking alive– you– fuck, you should feel sorry that your coworkers that they didn’t deserve to go the same way as the asswipes did, because you’ve long realised that the bangs were their skulls being crushed by the bullets, but at the same time you couldn’t care any fucking less about them right now. You just have to survive, that was the only thing that mattered since the very beginning. This is about your life. Your precious fucking life.

“Ah…”

Your body is too weak to hyperventilate, but your brain is working overtime. Do you run? Attack them? No…

Seonghwa hasn’t moved an inch away from your face, and you take it upon yourself to raise your hand and slowly push the cold, black gun to the side, so you can look him in his eyes, but he forces it back there.

“Please don’t kill me… I can do so much for you! I– I,” you stutter, trying to gather all the knowledge your monks have taught you. “I– I’ll do anything! You– you saw me, didn’t you? I have– I’ve been told I have a talent for serving! I– I can do anything, please, I beg you, just…”

You fall to your knees, and they burn on the glassy floor, your hands folded in front of your abdomen. 

“Just please, let me live…”

You’re not greedy. You’ve only taken what you were given, and tonight, you’ve been given so much. Too much? No, it couldn’t be…

“Brother.”

There are tears flowing down your eyes, and you feel so sorry for yourself. You miss your old monk, and hope that you may be reincarnated to a butterfly that he can admire, just so that he can look at you with his adoring eyes again. So someone can want the best for you once in your life–

“Brother?”

So anyone can finally love you for once in your life.

next part coming soon... series masterlist | main masterlist

[mint-yooxgi]

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?” 

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top. 

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness. 

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint. 

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company. 

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble. 

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men. 

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg. 

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.” 

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you. 

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow. 

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

[songmingisthighs]

Oddeleny

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xvi - man catbat

ghost!yeosang × reader

genre : ghost!au

rating, warning : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

buy me coffee ?

a connection once had, broken with the expectation that the ending is final. but life has an odd proclivity of making attachments from detachments. in the end, we don't know what we lost until we look at what we have

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@luvt0kki @aestheticsluut @stayatinykatsy @miaatiny @yukichan67 @maidens-world @wlv-asteria @bee-the-loser @junstulip @keinskpopcorner @donghyuckanti27 @axo-l0tl @aurora-tiny @cyber-innie @oddracha @dinossaurz @vcutparis @redzie02 @blackb3ll @mizumigi @jan-l @zoro-nanami-wifey @charreddonuts @angelicyeo @green-agent @teenyfinds @gxlden-bxbyy @that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict @tinyelfperson @jenowithjaem @mayonnaisehoeshit @allisonleannn @raspberrysannie @surveilenceysystem @borahae-reads @watanabehan @boo-ven9eance @cosmolight

@starjoongie1117 @rheriver

[pirateprincessblog]

Daddy Chronicles

𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉! 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘼𝘾𝙃 𝙄𝙎𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙐𝙄𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝟭𝟴｡

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲? ↳ Go Back ↳ Nah, I'm good

The boys are all aged up, I do not mention the exact age anywhere, so you are free to imagine whatever you want.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳!

read for me

park seonghwa ➳ bookworm!reader, ceo!seonghwa, bestfriend'sdad!seonghwa

synopsis: best friend's father has a rather big book collection, and you are a big bookworm who has started losing touch with reality. he shows you just how real it can get away from the covers and pages.

one

two

three

in vino veritas

kim hongjoong ➳ artist!hongjoong, dilf!hongjoong

synopsis: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you.

one

player 9

jeong yunho ➳ footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, aunt!reader

synopsis: you always thought that your nephew's football coach was handsome, and when he invites all the parents and families to come watch him play a big match, you struggle to keep your cool while watching his clothes stick to his body and his face and muscles glistening with sweat.

one

three is a crowd

kang yeosang ➳ swimminginstructor!yeosang

synopsis: a tragic event in your childhood created an aquaphobia for you. at pool parties, beaches, and camping, you are always the one to stay out of the water. until your father finds you a swimming instructor, who solves one problem, but creates another one.

put on a show

song mingi ➳ ceo!mingi, fashiondesigner!mingi, model!reader

synopsis: your ceo is to die for. drop dead gorgeous, aged like fine wine, a figure you’d kill to have. his only problem? he might be the meanest person you’ve ever met in your life. then why are you enjoying his degrading words as he makes you take every inch he has to give you?

silver band

choi san ➳ collegeprofessor!san, student!reader

synopsis: choi san is a married man, and the hottest professor you’ve ever seen. you feel unnatural amounts of jealousy and hatred each time he opens his laptop to start the lesson, showing everyone through the projector the desktop picture of his wife while he opens the files he needs to teach. you want a taste of him so bad, but he shows zero interest towards you. or anyone else. so how will you pull this off?

white dress

choi jongho ➳ dad’sbestfriend!jongho, bride!reader

synopsis: you don’t love this man at all. he is a cheater, he hits you, he flirts with other women in front of you. what has gotten into your father’s mind and is forcing you to marry that bastard? maybe his best friend has a little more compassion and will notice your silent cries for help.

20% off next buy

jung wooyoung ➳ cashier!wooyoung, pervyneighbour!wooyoung, innocentexploring!reader

synopsis: never in your life did you see a dildo this huge. it’s so… big, so purple, and it’s staring right back at you. the cashier seems to notice your horrified face with each isle you walk down, and he can’t help but offer you help. how can he help, when even you don’t know what you’re looking for?

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐉𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Your boyfriend just wanted to give you an early Christmas present.

『Word count』 : 5.3k

-> Genre: Pure smut with little plot, hehe.

Pairing: Boyfriend!San x Reader [SeongJoong x Reader]

[Warnings] : Reader is insecure. Foursome. Powerplay. Pet names [Angel, Bunny, Baby, Sweet Thing.] Light Choking. Kissing, Neck kisses. Body worship. Anxious thoughts. Some self-doubt, but the boys take lots of care of the reader. Possessive San. Voyeur San. Seonghwa likes to call reader whore but in a sweet way. Spanking. Dom!SeongSanJoong. Unprotected sex. Very subby Reader. Subspace. Dry humping. Oral. Use of the word slut. Daddy kink. MxM. San is secretly a switch/bottom. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Squirting. Brat taming. Sharing is caring. Dirty talk. Deep throating. I was drunk when I wrote half of this, so bare with me...

Note: Hi, Hi! Ahh, this fic is finally done. Hehe. I spent early hours in the morning, and one night after, i drank way too much vodka heh. So if there is anything weird. Uhh, blame drunk me. Also! This is most likely the last fic I'll be posting for 2023. So that's crazy. I'll still be around but I'm going to a wedding, so I won't be near my computer. Ahhh

Also, thank you so much to the wonderful @fandems for helping make this masterpiece come to life. I hope you enjoy the read, darling. ♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there soon.” You hummed hearing your boyfriend whine about how much he misses you and how he wanted to see you try on the hoodie in person. He and the others were currently staying at some hotel just outside Seoul for a shoot they were doing, and his mom had brought hoods she made with each of their names on it. Of course, she made one for you as well. Saying it was not up for debate even though you tried to decline, saying it was just ‘for the boys’.

“Please hurry. I miss you so much.” His blunt whimpers caused a stir in your tummy when you first heard them. You had to stop yourself from complaining about how he was making you wet from his voice alone. So, instead, you thought it would be cute to dress up a bit. Wear something a little more revealing. A nice crop top and shorts. Yes, that was a nice idea. Of course, since it was cold out and you weren't about to walk around Seoul in next to nothing anyways, so, you covered yourself with a large overcoat that draped all the way for to your knees. It was an early Christmas gift from Hongjoong. Which made your heart flutter when he gave it to you. You didn’t expect a gift from any of the members, really. But when Hongjoong brought you the gift while you were cuddling with San on the couch in the studio, you couldn’t help but blush. Or another time when he and Seonghwa brought you food when you were sick when they dropped off San at your apartment. Or when it was just the four of you chilling out at your place while watching a random film.

Everything just felt right.

You tried to hide your feelings towards the other two men, but it was growing harder after each interaction. They were so kind to you. They cared for you. And it made you feel like you were on cloud nine when they were around. San has made jokes in the past about you having a crush on his members, but you always brushed it off so he wouldn't feel bad. You love San, you really do. He was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But there was just something about Hongjoong and Seonghwa that you just couldn’t shake.

“Okay, I’m out the front. I’m gonna hang up now,” you said goodbye quickly before heading for the entrance of the hotel. San had already mentioned to the front desk clerk that you would show up, so they had a key waiting for you and everything. Standing in the elevator, you suddenly felt your nerves tingle. What if he just wanted to cuddle for a bit, give you the gift, and then kick you out. Or worse.. what if San wasn’t in the mood for some dirty antics?

Who are you kidding, he’s always in the mood.

But that still didn’t calm your shaky hands as you reached for the door handle while you scanned the key card against the lock. The room was silent.. the smell of musk caught your attention, making it known San had recently showered using the new body wash you had bought him. “H-Hello.”

You walked inside, locking the door behind you. Slipping off your shoes, you also placed your coat on the rack next to the entrance. Feeling the warmth of the hotel heating creep up on you. You walked slowly further into the little apartment. The only light was the ones from the city below and a side light next to a bed. Strange? “S-Sannie? Are you here…”

“Hello, angel.” A deep chuckle caught you off guard as a pair of hands gripped your waist suddenly. The light gasps that left your lips made the unknown male sigh in satisfaction, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You know his cologne. This voice. That chuckle.

“J-Joong?” You were shaking, but not out of fear but excitement. You felt like you had walked straight into a dream. A different reality even. You had to kick yourself for falling so quickly for the man who wasn’t your lover. Your eyes snapped open, and a breath was hitched. What were you doing?! you couldn’t do this. Not when you were with San. “Wait. Hongjoong.” You tried to pull out of Joong’s tight grasp, your voice sounding more stern and clear. 

“awe, come on, Angel. I’m only playing.” He let you go suddenly, letting the tension of your hips push you forward, tripping, until you slammed into something broad. A tall, warm body. Your hands gripped the man's shoulders while he pulled you flushed against his chest by your waist.

“S-San…” You whimper, feeling guilt cloud your judgment. Hot breath tickled your ear lobe before a deep voice sent shivers down your spine;

“Guess again, Bunny.” Your body completely tenses up hearing Seonghwa’s sombre smooth voice. The same voice he uses when he makes the calming ASMR videos. God, you could fall asleep peacefully to this man just simply talking. Or humming. Wait, no, stop.

“W-Where’s San. He needs to give m-me─A personalized hoodie.” Your words get cut off by none other than your lover, San. His ravenous chuckle made your mouth water. What were these three trying to do to you? Send you into an early grave. “I thought we could have a little fun before I give you the gift.”

You can hear lusts dripping from his voice. But yet you still couldn’t see anything. Your eyes have not adjusted to the dark room, but San was clearly behind you while your face and body were still firmly against Seonghwa’s chest. “We want the city to see just how good you can be.” Seonghwa sounded more dominant than San. His alluring aura made you want to stink to your knees and do whatever he wished. You were trembling against him, which he no doubtfully felt. And without a word being spoken. He let you go, leaving you standing, alone, in the dark. You were about to protest when all of a sudden you felt familiar arms snake around you, pulling you flush against him. San nuzzled his face in your neck, giving you some light kisses, trying his best to calm your nerves. 

In truth, San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong had many conversations about you. One more dirtier than the last. It first started with San gloating about how you were so good for him. How you would walk around in nothing but his hoodies and how he always got a nice look at your plump ass. Another time, he brought up the fact that you were an excellent dick sucker. He swore he could nut just from your mouth alone. This, of course, made the other men jealous. How dare San have you all to himself when they all know very well the way you look at them. The way your thighs clench whenever Hwa or Joong would accidentally touch you. You were just as needy as they were. “You gonna be a good girl, baby?”

San’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking a harsh purple mark. You still couldn’t see your surroundings, but you could feel, other than San's hands that were still on your waist, another pair of hands gripped a hand full of your plump thighs. You felt a whimper brew in your throat as San’s hands snaked up towards your chest, letting his fingertips graze just under your breasts. The unknown male's set of hands that were still perched on your thighs slowly moved upwards until they were tugging your legs apart, slowly tugging your shorts off. The dark chuckle from below made you realize the man who was holding your legs was crouched in front of you. With his head so close to where you need care the most. “S-Sann..”

“Uh, Uh. Answer the question, baby. Are you going to be a good girl for all three of us?” His hot breath tickled your earlobe, making your mind spin. Your hand reached down, finding a soft head of fluffy locks, your fingers tangling in them, pulling him closer to your heated core. Your other hand grasps San’s shoulder, pushing him towards your neck once more. 

“Please, sir.” You whined loudly, earning a groan from all three men, making you realize the last male was also standing behind you. San mutters something you didn’t bother listening to as suddenly felt a set of teeth bite down on your inner thigh, making you gasp in a high pitch. “Oh my god!”

The man between your legs snickered, pulling your panties to the side so he could press his nose against your soaked cunt. “That’s right bunny. I’m your god.” Seonghwa’s voice was so deep, filling with lust at each breath. You had to moan from his words, knowing full well how much of a god complex Seonghwa had. Your fingers tugged tighter on his hair, earning a low growl from that man. You were about to say something but your voice got caught in your throat as San’s hand wrapped perfectly around your neck, squeezing tight enough that it got your head spinning.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a god Seonghwa.” San’s cheeky mumble caused the man between your legs to huff, rolling his eyes as he went back to licking a strip along your fold. His fingers play with your entrance, pushing his tongue against your sensitive clit making you gasp out yet again, ‘Oh my god’, which made Seonghwa chuckle lowly.

“She says differently there, Sannie.” The vibration of Seonghwa’s voice made you clench around his lone finger. San’s hand got tighter around your neck, pulling you backwards so you were bent in a weird position, looking at San with a shocked expression. 

“Baby. Don’t start being a brat. I’m your sir, and this is Hwa and Joong. Go it!” He spat out, annoyance lacing on his tongue. Your hazy eyes looked up at him with sorrow. You pouted slightly, knowing exactly how to play San’s games.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please forgive me.” You whimpered trying to keep your eyes open but it was becoming increasingly harder as you feel Seonghwa add another finger into your wet pussy. San just scoffed before telling Seonghwa to move. You cried from the loss of contact but since Hwa is such a people pleaser, he slowly kissed up your body, collar and neck before whispering in your ear;

“Don’t worry my obedient little whore. I’ll treat you soon enough.” San didn’t respond this time, just scoffing before letting you go. Your knees buckled trying to keep yourself upright. But a new pair of hands grabbed you, letting you lean against a hard chest. 

“Hey there, angel, ready for some fun?” Hongjoong’s voice was higher pitched than the others, but it still held the same authority if not more. You nodded with a quick ‘yes’ letting the male chuckle at how obedient you are. San had turned on the bedside lamps, letting the dim orange hue shine through the room, letting you see the three men for the first time tonight. Seonghwa’s hair was a mess from your fingers, lips glistening from your slick. God, as if he couldn’t get any more hot, there he was in all his egotistical glory. 

“Baby. Stand you for us. And take off your shirt.” San said, nonchalantly, while downing a glass of liquor from the dry bar in the corner of the hotel room. You gulp slowly, taking off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. You became all too aware that you were only in your underwear in front of three very powerful men. You weren’t the thinnest either, so your insecurities started being placed on full alert. Seonghwa seemed to notice first, moving so he was flushed against you, chest to chest. he gave you the warmest smile before dipping his head in closer. His nose was grazing against yours, his lips almost close enough to touch. You had no idea if you were allowed to kiss him or Hongjoong, but given his face was between your legs only minutes ago, what harm would it entail?

Seonghwa gave you a surprised groan as he felt your plump lips. His tongue slipped effortlessly into your mouth like it was made to do just that. You could taste yourself on him, which caused a whimper to escape. His hands gripped your bare hips tightly, holding you so close that you could feel his bulge against your thigh. San was watching the situation unfold in front of him, biting his bottom lip at just how submissive you can quickly become around the three of them. How almost normal it felt. San gave a little whistle for Hongjoong to join in, while he took a seat on a large seat that sits by the window, gifting him the perfect view of the show you were so eagerly putting on. 

“Play nice with her. Or I’ll never let you touch her again.” San’s voice was stern and controlling. But man, did it make you shiver. You knew if you wanted to be rough or slow you would use your safe word or the traffic light system and you were also damn sure that San drilled it into the other two’s heads before this little ordeal. So you knew you were in a completely safe environment, and this was all for the thrill. 

“You hear that, Bunny. Sannie thinks we can’t play nice.” Seonghwa mumbles against your lips before moving down to kiss your cheek, jaw, and neck.

“He thinks we’re gonna get too rough with you.” Hongjoong grabs a fist full of your breasts squeezing tightly, drawing out a choked moan from you. His lips grazed your ear before biting softly on your ear lobe. Your nerves felt like they were on fire with the way these two tag teamed you. Like they had practised many times for this moment. “But you like it rough don’t you, angel?”

“Yeah, you like it when you're manhandled. Thrown around like a pleasure whore. Hmm?” Seonghwa nipped at your collarbone causing a yelp to escape you. The two of them just chuckled, knowing exactly how to tease you from hearing detail after detail of San explaining how much of a subby little fuck toy you are for him. 

"Please, Da-Hongjoong... touch me." You whimpered, almost calling him something other than his name. Even though San said not to call them anything other than what he gave you. Yet you had the biggest urge to disobey.

"But am I touching you, angel?" Hongjoong knew what he was doing. He needed you to break, spill all your dirty secrets out before he touched you. But Seonghwa, on the other hand, all he wanted to do was make you squirm until overdrive. His hands gripping at any part of exposed flesh, his hot tongue licking along your neck, while he suckles yet another red and purple mark. You were most certain that you had leaked through your panties and down your leg by now. Your brain clouded, and all judgement slipped slowly into your subspace as two pairs of lips find the most sensitive spots on your neck and collarbone.

“F-Fuckk.” You swore, tilting your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder. Seonghwa’s hand dipped into the top of your panties siding his fingers down through your soaking cunt. Hongjoong on the other hand, tugged on your bra until your breasts spilled out the top of it. His fingers pinched your peaked nipples while Seonghwa start to slowly fuck two fingers in you, stretching you out nicely. Both men didn’t stop their assault on your neck, littering your skin with bright marks and bites. You hazily hummed, opening your eyes to see San sitting with his lips parted and his hand palming his crotch. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Such a potty mouth, Bunny.” Seonghwa laughed pushing a third finger inside you while his palm rests on your clit perfectly. “I wonder what other filthy things you can say sweet things.”

“Oh, she can say many filthy things.” San’s voice made you jump, not realizing you had your eyes closed and San had moved to stand next to you, completely trapping you in the middle of all three of them. “You just gotta know what buttons to press.” 

San gripped Seonghwa’s wrist, tugging it out of your cunt making you yelp. His hands grabbed your hips before literally ripping your panties to shreds, letting the pieces of fabric fall to the floor. San’s hand gave your ass cheek as loud, harsh slap making you fall forward towards the perfectly made bed. “Come on baby. Shake that pretty thing for us.” You lazily wiggle your ass, letting the three men stare at your plump cake and leaking cunt. You felt humiliated in the best way possible, wanting nothing but the approval of the men behind you.

San stood behind you, pressing his clothed crotch against your ass, grinding slowly. You choked, feeling the rough fabric of his pants against your skin. His fingers gripping your waist tight enough, it threatened to draw blood, while his hips pulled away before snapping back on your ass. He was thrusted against you dry. Railing you up, causing you to slip into your subspace. “What do you need, baby? Tell us what you want.” He thrusted with. Every. Word.

“I w-wan…” You whimper, feeling tears swell in your eyes, your fingers tangling into the white sheets. “I want you, sir, please.”

A sharp pain shot down your nerves as you felt Sans's hand smack your ass. “You can do better. What. Do. You. Want. Slut.” He pushed two fingers into your pussy making you cry out, shaking at the sudden pleasure.

“I-I want cock please sir. I want to be fucked so badly.” All three men groaned at your filthy cry. Not just asking for San but to just be fucked in general. “I want to be full so badly.”

“See, what wasn’t so hard now, was it.” San snaked his fingers in your hair, yanking your head upwards. You yelped at the slight pain, your arms shaking, trying your best to keep yourself up. “Now the real question is. Which cock you want first?”

“Daddy…” You gaze at the two men standing by the window on your left-hand side. Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised while Hongjoong had the most sadistic smile you’d ever seen. San looked over to them, confused for a moment, feeling a little bit of rage but yet a hint of curiosity. Hongjoong scoffed, clicking his tongue before he started to undo his belt. San tugged you by the hair, so you were standing completely straight up. His hot breath against your earlobe before he gave your ass one more final slap, then squeeze. If you were going to play a bratty game. Then a bratty game it shall be.

“Okay, baby. You want his cock, then you can have it…” His hand snaked back around your throat choking you harshly. “But if you call him daddy one more time, I’ll grab that vibrator I know you have in your backpack and leave it on you until you learn your lesson. Got it.”

You nodded like an idiot, whining just wanting to be filled. But at the same time, San’s empty threat sounded so very tempting. Sadly, before you could say anything, San twisted you around until you fell on your back on the bed. Hongjoong was on you in seconds. His face is inches from you, with the same sadistic smile painted on it. “Hi there Angel…” He kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear. “Don’t worry, Darling, Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His voice was low enough that San would only be able to hear mumbles, which caused him to roll his eyes with what felt like the millionth time tonight. Seonghwa, of course, noticed, letting out a laugh.

“Lighten up, Sannie. Share some of the reins. It’ll be more enjoyable.” Seonghwa grabbed the younger male's shoulders, pushing his fingers into his deep neck tissue, feeling his muscles so tense and tight. San closed his eyes for a moment, finally relaxing against the older man. You watched the whole situation unfold, making your head spin. The boys all cared for one another so much and looked out for one another. You felt your heart swell.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweet thing. I want you to look at me while I ruin you.” Your gaze snapped back to him instantly, biting your lip while your brows knitted together. You felt his cock rubbed against your dripping folds, making you forget the other two that stood next to the window. “That’s it, baby. Deep breath.”

You did as you were told, taking in a sharp breath as you felt Hongjoong ease inside you. He wasn’t as long as San, but his girth was something else. He felt like you were being stretched to the breaking point, turning your already mushy brain into more mush if that was even possible. “Hongjoong!!”

His pace was unforgiving, snapping his hips against you without a second thought. He did not wait for you to get used to him, making his thrust mix with the best kind of pain and pleasure. Your mouth hung open with drool pooling on your right side while you moan uncontrollably. You tried your best to keep your eyes open but the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you was making it hard. You didn’t even notice the bed dipping until you saw a washed-out red hair sitting above you. He leaned down giving you a drawn-out kiss while Hongjoong’s hips snapped against you with fury and determination as he fell forward to case your right nipple in his hot mouth. You felt like you were going to explode within seconds. “You gonna cum for Joong bunny?” 

Seonghwa’s voice stirred you forward feeling a sharp burn snap in your gut as his fingers attach to your clit and his lips to your nipple. You’ve never felt so overstimulated in one moment, having three pairs of hands groping, squeezing and teasing any and all parts of your body. Three mouths licking, sucking, and biting you like you were their last meal on earth. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the sudden gush of liquid that slipped out of you, screaming into San’s mouth, sounding like a pathetic porn star. “Fuck did you just squirt?” Hongjoong was the first to speak slowing his thrusts for a moment.

“She did, look the bed is covered.” Seonghwa chuckled.

“Such a good girl. Now you gonna take Joongie’s cum hmm?” San didn’t need to see the other two men’s expressions to know their excitement just grew about a million percent. Hongjoong had to snap his cock back inside you just at the thought.

“Really San? You’ll let us come in your girl?” Hongjoong sounded like he was asking a completely mundane question and not currently balls deep inside of you. San gave you one slap quick peck on the lips as if he was checking in on you without needing to say anything. He could see the sparkle in your eyes, giving him the okay to answer.

“Oh course. Sharing is caring.” 

Everything happened so fast. You couldn’t even tell whose hands were whose. Your body was flipped around until your legs dangled on the end of the bed and Hongjoong was back pushing into your sensitive puffy pussy. He crossed his arms over to grab your hips, holding you firmly as he fucked you hard, quick and desperately. Trying to chase his own high. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Hongjoong was so close he just needed a little more, just a little push. And then you clenched hard around him, feeling you about to come again making him choke as he suddenly stop his thrusts, spilling his hot cum deep into your cunt. “Oh fuck. This is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

“I know, right? And no matter how many times you fucker her. She’s still so needy.” San prided himself in his stamina and when he found out you could go for multiple rounds, it was like a match made in heaven. “Step aside, Joong, I need to feel my baby's cunt.”

A panting Hongjoong pulled out of you slowly, feeling you clench. He groaned, seeing his cum mix with yours as it spilled out of your pussy and down your leg. San was quick to pull you up, walking you over to the chair by the window. He sat down letting you fall onto his lap. You whined, fingers tangling into his shirt. “T-too clothed sir.”

“Hmm, what’s that doll? Am I too clothed for you?” San giggled, tilting his head back as you nodded your head. he held your face, kissing you deeply while mumbling against your lips, “Okay then, baby.”

He turned you around in his lap so your back was against his chest. Your gaze scanned the room seeing Hongjoong laying down on the couch, his cock stuffed by him his sweats but Seonghwa on the hand was stalking his way towards you and San, tugging his shirt off. Neither man had to say another word as San tilted you forward, making you place your hands on his knees. Your face was eye leveled with Seonghwa’s aching clothed crotch, while you could hear San remove his clothes. Seonghwa grabbed your chin, making you look up between your lashes at the older male. His smirk sent shivers down your spine, “Gonna let me fuck your mouth like a good obedient little whore?” 

“Yes, please, Sir.” A loud slap echoed in the room as you let out a yelp. San’s hand rubs your raw ass, smoothing your hot skin. 

“What d-did I say?” San growled.

You looked over your shoulder quickly, seeing San’s eyes were almost pitch, pooling with lust. You gave him a small simple smile before looking back to Seonghwa. “Please. May I please have your cock… Sir.” 

“Fucking brat.” San stood up, gripping your hips tightly, bending you so you could place your hands on the arms of the chair. San gave your ass another harsh slap making you cry, tears swelling down your cheeks. “You want to be a brat. I’ll fuck you like one.”

He sunk into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You screamed, dropping your head while you moaned San’s name over and over against with each sharp, brutal thrust. Your nails dug into the chair, eyes shut tight. Every nerve in your body was on fire, feeling San’s big cock abuse your cervix. “Fuck, sir! Please. So big. Fuck. So full.”

“What? Cock drunk already? Too stupid to form a sentence anymore?” San mocked you, placing a hand on your shoulder, while the other stayed firmly on your hip. He pushed you up slightly, whistling slightly. You didn’t understand what was going on but the next thing you knew was feeling Seonghwa take a seat on the chair in front of you, his hard cock lying against his bare chest. Your eyes grew wide, he was longer and thicker than Hongjoong and San.

“Open wide, Bunny.” You gazed up at him for a moment, seeing a smirk painted on his perfect face. You spread your legs wider, so you’d be levelled with Seonghwa. San let go of your shoulder, stilling his hips so you could take Seonghwa’s cock in your mouth. You tried your best not to gag, gripping tightly onto his thighs while San started to grind his cock against you again once you could take at least half of him. “Fuck. Your mouth feels so good Bunny. So warm.”

“Oh, Just wait-fuck..till you feel her cunt.” San smirked.

“Like I said best pussy I’d ever had.” Hongjoong laughed from afar, most likely still on the bed, watching. Seonghwa threw his head back losing himself in the feeling of your mouth, while San’s thrusts began to get unstable feeling his orgasm creeping closer. He snaked a hand under you to rub your clit, trying to get you to come first. He needed you to come first, he needs to feel you let go and cream around his cock before he could pump you full.

“Come on baby, can you... f-fuck, can you cum for me. I need you to let go, baby.” San was mumbling, losing himself with the feeling of your soaked cunt clenching around his aching cock. You were crying around Seonghwa’s cock, making the vibration down his shaft cause him to buck his hips into you. Everything is so overwhelming, being filled by two men at the same time, while both being lost in pleasure from the feeling of your body. It made you dizzy as he squirted all over San, legs shaking and knees buckling. San came soon after, holding your hips in place so you wouldn’t fall. He swore, feeling his cum leak out around his cock as all the liquid pooled on the floor.

“Fuck, Bunny.” Seonghwa gripped your shoulders, tugging you off himself. San slipped out of you, sidestepping to take Seonghwa’s place in the chair, racking his hands through his sweaty, wet hair. Seonghwa manhandled you to lean against the window. Your nipples chilling to the cold temperature of the glass. Your hands sat flat on the window as Seonghwa laced his fingers with yours. He slowly glided his cock through your dripping folds before sinking right into your sensitive cunt with a groan. His pace was slow, calculated. You’ve never had a cock as big as Seonghwa and it was hitting all the right spots perfectly with each thrust. It didn’t take you long to feel the tinge in your gut again, already so oversensitive from being fucked twice already.

“Sir please I’m gonna cum again.” you completely forgot about San’s rule but no one seemed to notice except for Seonghwa, which made his ego grow more than he’d like to admit. Fucking your hard against the glass for all the city to see...

“Well go on. Cum like a little whore on my cock bunny. Cum while watching the city lights.” Seonghwa’s filthy words were just the right amount to send you over the edge, clamping down hard on his cock. He pulled out of you mid-high causing your body to shake in pain but you didn’t have any time to say anything, as he pushed right back in with a harsh slam, biting down on your shoulder.

You screamed. He came quicker than he would have liked, but the feeling of your cunt was too much for him. Everything went still, the only thing heard was heavy panting and racing hearts. Your mind was too hazy to register the two men helping you to the bed, laying you down where Hongjoong had been. You vaguely could see all three of them standing half-dressed and a mess, at the end of the bed, staring at you. They all thought how beautiful you looked and how well you did for them. And from that day on they knew their relationship with you was going to be completely different and none of them minded one bit.

San might have also ‘forgotten’ the next morning to give you the personalized hoodie so you would have to go back and get it. But not before himself, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong had another round with you.

- ♡

[lilhwahwa]

ATEEZ Reaction: You can't fall asleep (Yungi. ver)

★|•°∵ Scenario: Your boyfriend reacts to you not being able to fall asleep.

★|•°∵ Idolbf!yungi x nonidol!reader

{PICS NOT MINE / FROM PINTEREST}

MASTERLIST

Yunho

Yunho made sure to spend well deserved time together this holiday season by inviting you over to the dorms. Most members had gone home to visit their families and he had the big apartment to himself. He prepared a cozy atmosphere by cleaning, preparing food and activities (you both just ended up eating junk food on the couch and watching a movie). After Yunho noticed you getting sleepy, he suggested going to bed and you agreed. Although you wished to stay up just a little later your body was drained from working and his bed was inviting you in with its fluffy blanket. Yunho asked if it would be okay for him to join Yeosang for a game and since you thought you'd fall asleep anyway, you agreed. Besides, watching him play was always entertaining.

After the initial twenty minutes you expected it would take you to fall asleep, you open your eyes with a sigh and began scanning small details on the ceiling of Yunho's room. The keyboard buttons moved quickly as Yunho's long fingers skilfully worked his character around. You sigh again and twist onto your side in frustration, hoping to find the exhaustion you felt just a while ago. Your mind couldn't formulate thoughts and begged you for sleep but your body just didn't comply.

Yunho had headphones on so you assumed he wouldn't hear you huffing and turning. You hug the blanket closer to your body and try to focus on a scenario playing in your head only to not get anywhere. Once a scenario made it to your head, it was replaced by the fact that you can't sleep and it'd go in loops, sabotaging itself.

You gasp from surprise when you feel a hand slide over your side and wrap around your torso. You look up to see Yunho hovering above you.

"Baby, am I being too loud?" He asked with a small pout, looking for an answer as he scans the frustation in your tired eyes. His fingers draw small circles on your tummy and you suddenly feel relaxed. Is his touch all it takes?

"No, I just thought I could sleep but I- it's just not coming to me" you sigh just as a yawn leaves you.

"Then..." he thinks before swiftly leaving your side without another word. You plop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he shuts his computer off and you immediately want to protest. You didn't want him to interrupt his gaming session.

"I know what you will say, I want to sleep now" Yunho cuts you thoughts short before you can protest. He slides into bed behind you and immediately stretches his long arms out to pull you closer into his body. You turn to face him and bury your nose in his shirt.

"You could've kept playing" you grumbled

"But I'd rather lay with you" he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Especially since you can't even seem to sleep without me" he adds teasingly knowing you'd roll your eyes if they were open. He finds your noises of protest adorable and shifts deeper into his pillow to get comfortable.

"Good night baby"

Mingi

You got it, really. It wasn't your first rodeo.

Mingi was a hard worker, perfectionist in anything he did and being in a group only seemed to push that side of him out more. He wanted to make sure everything was prepared on time and to high standard, which was one of the things you admired about him.

You also admired it when all of his attention was on you. How he'd look at you with shining eyes as if you carried the universe on your shoulders. How his plump lips would shyly but surely pepper kisses over you face. Or how his voice would soothe you as he praised you every other sentence. Which unfortunately, was not on your agenda today.

It was kind of inevitable and you truly understand that he was tired. Him agreeing to watch a movie together even efter finishing tour rehearsals was a generous gesture. Even though exhausted, he invited you to the dorms (after convincing the other grumpy and tired members) to spend at least some time together. You were grateful for the initiative, but couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed when not even twenty minutes into the movie, snores escaped his slightly parted, plump lips. His arms that had been holding onto you, were now limp over your body.

Although the warmth of his body behind you on the living room couch was comforting, it was not enough to save the fact that the couch was hard and small. You weren't completely covered with a blanket and the weather had not shown mercy lately. Mingi's limp body also didn't allow you to turn at all so now you were stuck against him, back to chest as he snores. You shiver at the cool air in the room and try to focus on the movie still playing. Maybe the boring contents would make you fall asleep quicker.

You knew that him dozing off so easily like this truly meant he was exhausted and waking him up felt almost blasphemous. You felt shame in bothering a person so tired and so willing to still be with you.

"Can't sleep`?" you snap away from your thoughts as you barely catch the raspy voice mumbling in your ear. "You keep moving" Mingi yawns and lifts his limbs off you to allow your body to finally turn to face him. With an apologetic look on your face you turn, barely able to keep in a sound of endearment as you watch your sleepy boyfriend fighting to open his eyes to check on you.

"Sorry, baby" you whisper and reach out to stroke his flushed cheek, hoping he'd just go back to sleep because you'd feel horrible if he didn't. Mingi reached behind him to the back of the couch where a blanket had been folded over it and lazily unwraps the material to throw it over your bodies.

"Com'ere" he sighs and adjusts for you to lay your head on his chest, holding you safely and securely on the small space of the couch. "Need to make sure you get your beauty sleep" he mumbles and squeezes your body one last time before seemingly slipping off to sleep again, unable to fight it back this time. You smile to yourself and nuzzle closer to him, more comfortable and warm. His breathing calms you as you finally drift off.

[justwritedreams]

Daily texts with Boyfriend!San