bnanamlkluvr

[bnanamlkluvr]

RED-HANDED - C.S + S.MG

! - bsf!san x gn!reader x bsf!mingi (san focus)

!! - smut MDNI

!!! - 1074 words

!!!! - humping, thigh-fucking, groping, rough (?) sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, marking, caught, implied threesome, implied previous sexual encounters

NETWORKS: @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet @atzhouse @pirateeznet

You were fucked right now, both literally and figuratively.

When you’d taken a glamping trip with your two best friends, the last thing you expected was this. While Mingi slept, his face inches from yours, San’s cock was rubbing against your arse, his face pressed into your neck. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around your waist, ensuring you wouldn’t move an inch, whilst the other clamped over your mouth. You wouldn’t dare make a sound regardless, but it was getting harder to keep quiet.

“Move back on me a bit baby, your ass is so soft.”

Unsurprisingly, you were not immune to the way San practically purred his words onto your skin, softly kissing it in between sentences. You could feel the tickle of his hair as it brushed against you, but that was currently the least of your concerns. It felt like your body was on fire, yet simultaneously frozen in place. Quickly growing agitated, San nipped your nape, tongue darting out to soothe the marked flesh as you hissed.

“C’mon Y/N, I’m desperate here.”

His voice had a little quiver to it as his ministrations continued, the rustling of fabric and muffled pants filling the stifling silence. San’s desperation was evident, even when disregarding his small pants and his almost-suffocating hold of you. You took pity on him, and honestly? You were fucking horny too.

“Please.”

Oh, there it was. He’d done it.

San knew exactly what to do to get you to cave, unable to hide his smirk when you began to rut softly back onto him. Now, his face disconnected from your neck, instead resting just below your ear. His teeth toyed with your lobe before he whispered softly to you.

“Mingi looks so cute when he’s asleep.”

The heat that overtook your face could probably be noticed even in the dark room, shadows creeping in the corners while moonlight broke through the tiny gap in the curtains. Ironically, it lit Mingi’s sleeping face up each time the wind blew the curtains open, showering his angelic face with light.

His parted lips and peaceful expression only made you ever more aware of the debased, sinful behaviour you were partaking in, his soft breathing drowned out by desperate gasps and small curses from the man behind you.

As you stared at Mingi, wide-eyed whilst being confronted with your own debauchery, you felt a brave hand slip into your shorts. Before you could even begin to turn and look at San in shock, his hand pinned your head down, still forcing you to look at Mingi. His breath was hot as he licked your ear a little, sending a shiver through your body.

“This is your fault, y’know. Shouldn’t have pressed your slutty little arse against me while I’m tryna sleep.”

Not too keen to accept blame, his accusation was met with silence. Of course, you had good reason to, especially as Mingi fidgeted in his sleep. Even San stopped his rocking, watching intently with you as Mingi nuzzled the pillow a little before falling back asleep. Chuckling quietly, his fingers quickly wrapped around your waistband and tugged at your clothes until your lower half was bare.

In the limited light, he was still in awe as he grabbed at your supple flesh, watching the way your body tensed. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling.

His touch was rough, like he was eager to grab, to bruise. It therefore should’ve come as no surprise when San spread your cheeks and slowly slotted himself through your thighs. Despite your efforts to resist him, your pulsing hole ached to be penetrated, and you felt some sort of annoyance that he’d decided to fuck your thighs instead.

“Shit, squeeze my cock, Y/N. Show me how much you want this dick.”

He was being vile, and you loved every second of it. Even though his hand still covered your mouth, your hands were now grasping tightly at the sheets underneath you. This had all started because Mingi had stolen the blanket in his sleep, so there was no hiding if he woke up. Yet, you bit your lip at the feeling of San’s cock slowly pushing between your thighs, groaning and letting his head fall onto your back.

Obediently, you squeezed your thighs together, delighting in the moan the action ripped from San before he could quieten himself. The sound made your eyes snap open, and it took everything in you to not scream when two dark eyes stared back at you.

San hadn’t noticed, he was too busy making the entire bed rock and creak, hushed curses falling like a stream from his soft lips as he kissed your back feverishly. But you were still, and silent; your body was tense, and yet your thighs had relaxed. About to sit up and whine in your ear, San lifted his head, quickly freezing in his tracks.

“So this is what you two do when I’m not around?”

You thought Mingi would be mad (or worse, disgusted), but he merely looked between the two of you with interest. San’s hand quickly fell from your mouth, and his cock was hastily slipped back into his pants. Typical that he wanted you to do the talking, but you didn’t have much to say.

Usually you’d scramble to apologise, or defend yourself, or something, but instead you simply laid there - staring Mingi down as he looked between the two of you expectantly. But neither of you spoke, the silence tangible.

Instead, it was Mingi that made the first move. One hand cupped your cheek tenderly, whilst the other fell downwards, shamelessly fondling you. San watched intently in abject horror as you keened at Mingi’s touch, whimpering softly while the younger man smirked.

“So you do naughty things with Sannie too? I’m hurt, Y/N, I thought we were exclusive.”

“Mingi, I-”

He cut you off sharply, squeezing you cheeks harshly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It didn’t distract you from the fact you could feel his blunt nails digging into your skin.

“No matter, I don’t have a problem sharing my best bud with my best bud.”

As soon as he said that, San’s hands had crawled back on you, and Mingi had forced his tongue in your mouth. Your head spun as your senses became overwhelmed, your body practically in distress.

Being sandwiched between your two best friends was truly an eye-opening experience.

⚝ - TAGLIST !!

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[bnanamlkluvr]

Ateez as dark entities

Pairing: ot8!Ateez x reader

Genre: Dark shit

Warnings: dark and twisted themes, yandere themes, damn I suck at writing warnings, please lmk what I can add here

Synopsis: Ateez as dark entities who are obsessed with you. How would that go? (I would be writing this in the third perspective)

Hongjoong: The Puppeteer

A sinister mastermind who controls people’s actions like marionettes, manipulating reality with strings of fate. His words weave deception, pulling the world into his chaotic play.

He saw her in a crowd, but unlike the others, she wasn’t swayed by his unseen strings. Her free will intrigued him, an anomaly in his perfectly controlled world. He watched her for days, testing how much influence he had over her actions. When he realized she resisted, his obsession grew. He needed to break her, to weave her into his masterpiece—his perfect marionette.

At first, she wouldn’t even realize she was being controlled. Hongjoong would make subtle changes—her thoughts, her actions, her choices—until everything she did led her straight back to him.

Her friends would start acting differently, nudging her toward him. Strangers would mention his name as if he was always meant to be in her life. It was a web of manipulation, and she was tangled in it before she even knew.

The moment she tried to break away, she’d feel it—the invisible strings tightening around her wrists. She’d find herself going back to him, no matter how much she resisted. Even when she thought she was making her own choices, they all led back to Hongjoong.

By the time she realized she had never truly been free, it was too late. She was already a puppet in his hands.

Hongjoong wouldn’t resort to mindless violence. No, his punishments would be calculated—surgical.

A single flick of his fingers, and her limbs would move without her consent, forced into painful contortions. She’d feel the strain in her muscles, the stretch of her tendons beyond what they were meant to endure. But he wouldn’t let her break. Not yet.

“I don’t like hurting you,” he’d say, watching as she trembled under his control. “But if you insist on disobeying, I will teach you.”

And just when she thought she’d collapse from the pain, he’d release her—only to hold her close, stroking her hair as she whimpered. “See? If you just behave, you won’t have to suffer.”

Seonghwa: The Phantom Monarch

A cursed ruler who lingers between life and death, draped in shadows and whispering forgotten prophecies. His touch brings both solace and despair, a ghostly presence haunting his own kingdom.

She entered the ruins of his long-forgotten kingdom, unaware of the ghostly presence watching her. When she touched his throne, a flicker of warmth pulsed through his cold existence for the first time in centuries. He had been a ruler without a queen, a soul without purpose. Now, he had one. If she could make him feel, then she belonged to him.

Seonghwa’s trap was patience. He didn’t chase—he lured. Whenever she left a place, she’d feel his presence lingering behind, just out of sight.

She’d hear his voice in the wind, see his reflection in darkened windows. He became an inescapable part of her world, an unseen force watching her every move.

Then, one night, the world would shift. She’d wake up in a place that looked like her home but wasn’t. The furniture was the same, the air smelled familiar, but the sky outside was an endless void. The door wouldn’t open, the windows showed nothing but darkness.

She’d turn—and there he’d be, standing in the doorway. “You wandered too far,” he’d say, tilting his head. “Now, you can never leave.”

Seonghwa wouldn’t strike her. He wouldn’t even touch her.

But he’d make her feel like she was dying.

He’d whisper a few words, and suddenly, the air would vanish from her lungs. No oxygen, no relief—just the slow, creeping suffocation of her own body betraying her. He’d watch her fall to her knees, eyes wide in terror, clutching at her throat as she silently begged for mercy.

Only when she was on the verge of unconsciousness would he allow her to breathe again. He’d catch her before she hit the floor, his voice a soothing lullaby.

“I hate doing this,” he’d murmur, wiping away the tears streaking her face. “But you need to understand. You are mine.”

Yunho: The Hollow Jester

A deceivingly cheerful trickster whose laughter hides an empty soul. He thrives on others’ misery, playing twisted games that always end in despair, his mask concealing a haunting void

She laughed. It was a sound so genuine, so full of life—something he lacked. He saw her in the reflection of a shattered mirror, a place where only twisted souls should exist. But she was untouched, pure. He had to change that. He wanted to see how long she could keep that smile once she stepped into his world of madness.

Yunho would make her question reality itself. It would start small—objects moving from where she left them, voices whispering from places they shouldn’t be.

She’d see glimpses of him in mirrors, but when she turned around, he wouldn’t be there. He wanted to break her mind before he claimed her.

Then, one day, she’d wake up in a world that wasn’t hers. The people around her would wear empty smiles, their laughter hollow and unsettling. No matter where she ran, she’d always end up back at the same place—a grand, eerie carnival with no exit.

And at the center of it all, sitting on his throne of illusions, was Yunho, grinning as he held out his hand. “Welcome home.”

Yunho would turn it into a game—a cruel, endless game.

She’d wake up in a room she didn’t recognize, doors stretching in every direction. “If you can find the real exit,” his voice would echo from nowhere, “I’ll let you go.”

Desperation would push her to run, to fling open door after door, but each one led somewhere worse—a room full of mirrors reflecting her worst fears, a hallway that stretched infinitely, a pit of darkness with no end. The sound of his laughter would follow her, amused and patient.

Finally, when she was broken, exhausted, curled in a corner with silent tears, he’d crouch beside her, brushing her hair back. “See?” he’d whisper. “You’re always safest when you stay with me.”

Yeosang: The Watcher in the Mirror

An entity that exists within reflections, observing silently and waiting for the right moment to step into reality. Those who meet his gaze feel their deepest fears manifest before them.

She looked into the mirror, and he looked back. Unlike the others, she didn’t turn away in fear. She stared, as if searching for something. That was the first time someone acknowledged his existence without terror. He had been watching her long before she noticed him, but now, she had seen him. And once you see the Watcher, he never lets you go.

Yeosang never had to chase her—she was the one who kept looking for him. Every time she passed a reflective surface, his eyes were there, watching.

She should have stopped looking, should have turned away. But she didn’t. Curiosity turned into obsession, and that was his trap.

One day, she’d reach out to touch the glass, and it wouldn’t be solid anymore. Instead of her reflection, it would be his hand reaching back. A single pull, and she’d fall through, tumbling into his world—a place made of endless reflections, where only he could find the way out. But there was no escape.

“You searched for me,” he’d whisper, his lips brushing against her ear. “Now, you’ll never stop seeing me.”

Yeosang would make her lose herself.

The first cut would be shallow—a single line down her palm, bleeding just enough to stain the floor. But the reflection in the mirror? It would be so much worse.

In the glass, she’d see herself covered in wounds, skin marred by deep, jagged gashes. Her breath would hitch—was it real? She’d feel no pain, but the sight alone would break her, make her wonder if her body was even her own anymore.

“Which version of you do you think is real?” Yeosang would ask, voice soft, cruel. “The one standing here? Or the one who’s already been ruined?”

By the time he was done, she wouldn’t be sure if she was whole anymore.

San: The Wrathborn Beast

A relentless, cursed creature with uncontainable fury, lurking in the darkness and striking with unmatched ferocity. His hunger for vengeance keeps him shackled in eternal torment.

She was the first to step into his cage without trembling. His rage had driven everyone away, but she stood there, eyes locked with his, unafraid. He hated it at first—the way she didn’t cower. But then, he realized something. If she could stand before a monster without fear, then she was strong enough to endure him. He didn’t want to be alone anymore, and she was the only one worthy of staying.

San knew she was drawn to him despite the danger. He let her think she had control, that she could leave whenever she wanted. But every time she walked away, something inside her ached. She craved the thrill, the way his presence sent a shiver down her spine.

That was his trap—making her believe she chose him when, in reality, he had chosen her from the start.

The day she finally tried to leave for good, he didn’t stop her. Instead, he let her feel the emptiness, the unbearable absence of him. And when she inevitably returned, desperate for the chaos only he could give, he was waiting.

“You walked into the lion’s den, little lamb,” he murmured, arms caging her in. “You should’ve known you’d never walk out.”

San wouldn’t hold back. He wouldn’t lie to himself about what he was doing.

When he was angry, when she had truly pushed him too far, his grip would be punishing. His fingers would dig into her skin hard enough to bruise, his voice low with fury.

“You want to run? Fine. Let’s see how far you can crawl.”

A single shove would send her to the floor, and he wouldn’t help her up. Instead, he’d watch as she struggled, as she realized how weak she was compared to him.

And when she finally gave up, when she curled up at his feet, he’d sigh—exhausted, but satisfied.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he’d whisper, pulling her into his arms despite her flinching. “I don’t like hurting you. But I won’t let you leave me either.”

Mingi: The Nightmare Poet

A being whose words shape reality, crafting dreams that turn into horrifying nightmares. His voice echoes in the minds of those who hear him, driving them to madness.

She dreamed of him before they ever met. His words had slipped into her mind, shaping her thoughts, her fears, her desires. He whispered stories in the dead of night, and she listened. When she finally saw him in the waking world, there was no shock—only recognition. She had belonged to him from the first nightmare, and now, he was here to claim her.

Mingi’s trap was set long before she ever met him. He had been in her dreams for weeks, whispering poetry laced with shadows, planting fears only he could soothe.

Every night, she dreamed of him. Every morning, she woke up with the lingering echo of his voice in her mind. She should have been afraid, but she wasn’t. She was drawn to him, to the way his words made her feel like she belonged in his world of nightmares.

Then, one night, she wouldn’t wake up. She’d open her eyes to find herself in a realm made of her own fears, with Mingi standing at its center.

“You kept listening,” he’d say, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “And now, you’ll never wake up without me.”

Mingi’s cruelty would be subtle—a slow, creeping thing.

She’d wake up with her memories altered. One moment, she’d remember everything—the pain, the fear, the desperate attempt to run. The next? She’d remember nothing but warmth, love, the softest touch.

Which was real? Which was a lie?

She’d claw at her own skin, desperate to remember what was true. And Mingi would watch, amused, patient.

“You’re overthinking,” he’d coo, pulling her hands away so she couldn’t hurt herself further. “Just trust me. I’ll tell you what’s real.”

And by the time he was done, she wouldn’t even realize she had ever wanted to leave.

Wooyoung: The Siren of Shadows

A deadly seducer whose beauty and charm lure souls into eternal darkness. His whispers are irresistible, drawing victims into an abyss from which they can never escape.

She heard his voice first, a soft melody in the dark. It called to her, leading her deeper into the unknown. He watched her hesitate, but her curiosity won. When she finally laid eyes on him, she was already too far gone. He smiled. She had walked willingly into his grasp, and now, he would never let her leave.

Wooyoung’s voice was her downfall. It was everywhere—in the music she listened to, in the whispered words she thought were her own thoughts.

He sang her name in the wind, in the rustling of leaves, in the quiet hum of the night. The more she listened, the more she needed to hear him. That was his trap—addiction.

By the time she realized she was bound to his melody, she was already too deep. His voice was the only thing that felt real.

And when he finally stood before her, holding out his hand, she didn’t resist. “You’ve already fallen,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “Now, let me pull you under.”

Wooyoung wouldn’t need to use force. Love itself would become her prison.

He’d kiss her through the pain. His lips would trail over bruises he had left, his fingers tracing over the bite marks he had carved into her skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he’d whisper against her lips, voice trembling with emotion. “But you keep forcing me to.”

And the worst part? He’d be so gentle afterward. He’d hold her in his arms, press kisses to every wound, wipe away her tears with shaking hands. Guilty. Apologetic.

But he’d do it again. And again.

Until she stopped trying to fight it.

Jongho: The Titan of Ruin

A monstrous force of destruction, his strength shatters worlds. He is an unstoppable force, cursed to bring devastation wherever he treads, his very existence a harbinger of doom.

He found her in the aftermath of destruction—standing amidst ruin, untouched by the chaos he created. She should have run. She should have feared him. But she didn’t. Instead, she reached out, as if daring to touch the force that could crush her in an instant. He had never hesitated in destruction, but for the first time, he held back. If she was unafraid of his power, then she was the only one worthy of standing beside him.

Jongho didn’t need tricks or illusions—his trap was raw, undeniable power. He was a force of nature, and she was the only one who dared to stand before him.

He let her believe she could handle him, that she could walk away whenever she wished. He admired her stubbornness, but he knew the truth—she was already his.

When the time came, he didn’t give her a choice. The ground beneath her feet would shatter, the walls around her would crumble. There would be no escape, no safety. And when she turned to him, the only solid thing amidst the chaos, he’d hold out his hand.

“The world is too fragile for you,” he’d murmur. “Stay with me. I’ll make sure nothing ever takes you away.”

Jongho wouldn’t need tricks or illusions. He would simply remind her of who was stronger.

The moment he caught her, he’d pull her against his chest, his grip firm—unbreakable. “Are you done?” he’d ask, voice calm, but with an edge that sent shivers down her spine.

And when she refused to answer, when she still clung to the last scraps of defiance, he’d hold her tighter. Until she gasped for air, until she realized there was no winning against him.

Only then would he let go, letting her crumble to her knees. “Next time,” he’d murmur, crouching beside her, “I won’t be so gentle.”

But she knew there wouldn’t be a next time. Because now, whenever she even thought about running… she’d remember the feeling of his arms caging her in, and she’d know—

She’d never escape him.

[bnanamlkluvr]

i need yungi links😔

TWITTER LINKS - YUNGI

pairings: yungi x fem!reader

tags/warnings: NSFW LINKS MDNI 18+, threesomes, double penetration, toy use, shower sex

note from luna: AHEM. apologies for my late response, i've been absolutely everywhere. i hope you enjoy these links nonetheless~

it took a lot of time and training before you were able to take both of their giant cocks in the same hole. now that you can, this is the only way they like to fuck you. link.

it's impossible to multitask when mingi was fucking you so good. you could barely keep your pace with yunho's cock in your hand as your brain was being turned to mush. link.

at home videos the boys would record of you, so eager to please and stuff yourself full of their cocks any way you could. link.

they love watching you fuck yourself back on their cocks, seeing how desperately you move yourself against them in an attempt to get off. link.

post sex showers turning into another round (or two). the boys are just so insatiable. link.

bonus;

videos you'd send to the boys in your groupchat, showing them how much you're training yourself to take both their cocks at once. link.

© 2025 Yun-Fangz All Rights Reserved.

[bnanamlkluvr]

Big beefy men who are lowkey pathetic for thick women >>> best trope known to man.

[bnanamlkluvr]

STICKY SITUATIONS

✶PAIRING: Spiderman! Yunho x Fem! reader

✶WARNINGS: superhero au, spiderman! yunho, Best friends! wooyoung and san, fighting (spiderman), smut, pet names, cursing, wooyoungs a fangirl over spiderman.

✶A/N: I want to do Ateez fanfiction as them as superheroes, and so, obviously Yunho is Spiderman.

✶WORD-COUNT: 5.8k

The city always felt different at night. The once-bustling streets had quieted down, save for the occasional honking of taxis and the distant chatter of late-night wanderers. The streetlights buzzed softly, casting a warm glow over the pavement as you, Wooyoung, and San walked along the sidewalk, the three of you lost in conversation.

"You’re crazy if you think that’s the best Marvel movie," Wooyoung argued, waving his hands in the air dramatically.

San scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I’m just saying, the storyline actually made sense. Unlike the mess of a plot twist your favorite one had."

You laughed, watching the two bicker for what felt like the hundredth time that night. It was always like this—Wooyoung and San found the most random things to argue about, and you somehow always got stuck in the middle.

"Alright, alright, let’s call a truce before one of your heads explodes," you teased, nudging Wooyoung’s shoulder.

He huffed but grinned. "Fine. But only because I’m too hungry to keep fighting."

"Didn’t you just eat?" San raised a brow.

Wooyoung clutched his stomach dramatically. "That was, like, two hours ago! Do you know how long that is in Wooyoung time?" He says pointing to himself with two fingers.

You rolled your eyes as San shook his head with a laugh. The three of you turned the corner onto a dimly lit street, the atmosphere shifting slightly. The sidewalks weren’t as lively here, and the sound of distant sirens echoed faintly through the air.

Something about the silence felt off.

You felt it first—a strange uneasiness creeping up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your gut twisted, an instinct screaming at you that something wasn’t right.

"Hey, does this street feel…weird to you?" you asked, slowing your steps.

San glanced around, his playful demeanor dimming as he too seemed to sense the shift in the air. Wooyoung, usually oblivious to danger, actually frowned.

"Yeah… we should probably—"

Before he could finish, a loud crash shattered the silence.

A black van skidded to a stop in the middle of the road, its tires screeching against the pavement. The doors were thrown open, and within seconds, several masked figures jumped out, their movements quick and calculated. They were armed with guns.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"That’s bad," Wooyoung whispered, stepping back.

"Very bad," You muttered.

"Fuck," San cursed, grabbing your wrist instinctively. "Run."

But it was too late.

One of the men barked an order, and suddenly, the air was filled with chaos. A shot rang out—probably not meant to hit, just to scare—and screams erupted from the few people still lingering in the area. The three of you turned on your heels, sprinting in the opposite direction, but they were fast. Too fast.

The night erupted into chaos behind you—yelling, footsteps pounding against pavement. A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence. Your breath caught, your pulse hammering against your ribs as you sprinted down the street, barely processing what was happening.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Wooyoung cursed as the three of you ducked into an alleyway, your backs hitting the cold brick wall. But before Wooyoung could make it, a strong hand grabbed him by the arm, yanking him backward. He let out a sharp yelp as he struggled, twisting and kicking in their grasp.

"Let him go!" you shouted, instinctively lunging forward.

Another man grabbed you before you could reach him, his grip bruising as he pulled you back. You thrashed against him, panic surging through your veins, but he was stronger. San tried to fight off one of the others, managing to land a solid punch before getting overpowered.

This wasn’t just a mugging. They were organized. They were looking for something—or someone. And you were trapped.

Then, just as your captor tightened his grip, something—or rather, someone—dropped from the sky.

A red and blue blur crashed onto the scene, landing with a force that cracked the pavement slightly.

Spider-Man.

For a moment, everything stilled.

"Hey, fellas. Now, I know we’re all having fun here," the masked hero quipped, standing to his full height. "But I have a strict policy against terrifying innocent civilians. Superbad look, guys."

The men froze in place.

And then all hell broke loose.

The first guy barely had time to react before Spider-Man shot a web, yanking the gun straight out of his hands. Another moved to attack, but the hero was faster—ducking, twisting, landing a solid kick that sent the man sprawling.

"Tsk, tsk." Spider-Man shook his head. "Guns? Really? That’s just lazy."

The scene erupted into chaos.

Spider-Man moved fast—faster than you could keep up with. He flipped and twisted through the air, his webbing shooting out in rapid succession as he took down the masked men one by one. Wooyoung managed to break free in the commotion, stumbling toward you to break you free. You both ran to San as the three of you watched the fight unfold in stunned silence.

Wooyoung let out a breathless laugh. "Holy shit, that’s so cool."

San nudged him. "Now is not the time to fangirl."

It didn’t take long. Within minutes, the assailants were either webbed to the walls or unconscious on the pavement.

Spider-Man landed a few feet in front of you, tilting his head. "Everyone okay?"

Wooyoung, still breathless, gave a thumbs-up. "That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen."

San nodded, still shaken but managing to find his voice. "Yeah… yeah, we’re good."

The casualness of his tone made you blink. He had just taken down multiple armed men in a matter of minutes, and he was talking like he had just finished a workout.

San let out a low whistle, still catching his breath. "That was… a lot."

Wooyoung, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement. "Dude. You. Are. Freaking. Amazing." He gestured wildly at the unconscious men. "Do you even realize how freaking cool that was? I mean, you—" He mimicked web-shooting with his hands, making whooshing noises. "—and then you did that insane flip, and—"

Spider-Man chuckled and patted Wooyoungs shoulder. "Glad you enjoyed the show."

Spider-Man turned to you then, and for a moment, you swore he lingered. Even through the mask, you could feel the weight of his gaze.

"You good?" His voice was softer now.

You swallowed, still feeling the remnants of adrenaline in your bloodstream. You couldn't help but feel a rush of heat go up to your cheeks. "Yeah. Thanks to you."

There was a small pause. Something about the way he was looking at you—studying you—sent a strange warmth through your chest. But then, as quickly as the moment had come, he stepped back.

"Alright then," he said, clapping his hands together. "My job here is done." And just like that, he shot a web to the nearest building, leaped up, and vanished into the night.

Leaving you standing there, heart still pounding. For a second, none of you spoke.

Then Wooyoung let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was—holy hell."

San ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Holy shit sums it up pretty well." He let out a deep sigh.

You exhaled slowly, trying to ground yourself. "Let’s just go home."

They both nodded, and together, the three of you started walking.

At the next intersection, Wooyoung and San turned toward their own apartments, each of them giving you one last look.

"You sure you’re okay?" San asked. "I mean, that was a lot to process..."

"I'm fine San." You managed a small smile. "Yeah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

Wooyoung gave you a playful salute before they disappeared down their street.

And then it was just you.

The city was quieter now. The excitement of the night had dulled into a hum of distant traffic, the occasional flicker of headlights passing by.

You pulled your hoodie tighter around you as you walked, your steps steady but your mind still racing.

Everything felt surreal, like a fantasy dream. One second, you were hanging out with your best friends. The next, you were running for your life. And then Spider-Man swooped in, saved you like it was nothing, and disappeared into the dead of night.

Your fingers twitched at your sides and you could still feel the ghost of his touch—the way he had held you when he pulled you away from danger.

Shaking the thought away, you turned down a quieter street. It wasn’t too far to your apartment now. Just a few more minutes. But then there was a noise...

Tick. Tick. Tick.

You stopped. You cocked an eyebrow. The sound was faint, almost drowned out by the night and the noise of wind. It was coming from the building beside you.

Slowly, you turned your head. The alley next to the building was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the pavement. But the sound—that sound—was definitely coming from there.

A slow, rhythmic ticking. Like a countdown.

Your stomach twisted. Your instincts screamed at you to move. But you couldn't. it was like your legs were paralyzed and—

BOOM.

The explosion shattered the quiet night. The force of the blast hit like a shockwave, sending a fiery burst of heat through the air. The impact knocked you off your feet, throwing you backward before you even had time to scream.

For a split second, you were weightless—falling, the world tilting...

But before you hit the ground, something caught you.

No, not something... Someone

A strong arm wrapped around your waist just as a web shot out, pulling you up seconds before debris rained down onto the street below. Your breath hitched.

Your mind barely had time to process what had just happened before you were soaring—high above the city, away from the destruction.

The wind roared past your ears as you clung to the one person who had just saved your life again.

And then, just as quickly as you were pulled away, you landed on a rooftop. You gasped, heart hammering as your feet touched solid ground.

Spider-Man was still holding you, his grip strong, steady—protective.

For a long second, neither of you spoke. The distant wail of sirens echoed below. The glow of the city lights cast long shadows across the rooftop.

His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. "You okay?" he asked, voice quieter this time.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. "I—yeah. I think so."

His hold on you didn’t loosen immediately. It was as if he was making sure—like if he let go too soon, you might slip away again.

The realization made something in your chest tighten.

Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you. Even through the mask, you could feel the intensity of his gaze.

"You shouldn’t have been there," he murmured, almost to himself.

"I wasn’t exactly planning on walking past a random explosion," you said, attempting to lighten the mood. Your voice came out more breathless than you intended.

His jaw tensed slightly. "You could’ve died."

You weren’t sure why, but the way he said it—low, edged with something almost like frustration—made your breath catch.

His fingers twitched against your waist before he finally let go. The absence of his touch left the night air colder.

"Thank you though," You breathe out as you look at him. You wondered what he looked like under the mask. "For saving me... again."

"You're welcome."

He then exhaled sharply as if debating something. Then, reaching into his suit, he pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

Wordlessly, he took your hand and pressed it into your palm.

Your fingers curled around it automatically. "What is this?"

His voice was quieter now. More certain. "A lifeline," he said. "Just in case."

Your pulse jumped. You looked up at him, searching for something—anything—in his masked expression. But before you could say anything, he stepped back.

"Stay safe, Y/N..."

He winked at you and then, in one swift motion, he shot a web and disappeared into the night. leaving you standing there, gripping the note, your heart still racing.

Far below, the city continued on, unaware of what had just happened. But you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

Your phone buzzed violently in your pocket, snapping you out of your daze.

Still gripping the note, you fumbled to pull it out, your hands shaking slightly as you answered.

“Y/N!” Wooyoung’s voice practically exploded through the speaker causing you to flinch a little. “Did you hear that?!”

San’s voice followed, equally frantic. “Forget hearing it, we felt it! That explosion was huge—where are you? Are you okay?”

You swallowed, your heartbeat still uneven, and a tiny bit of sweat dripped down your forehead. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.” You glanced down at the note in your hand, the small folded paper feeling heavier than it should. “Spider-Man—he… he saved me.”

A pause. Then Wooyoung, in complete disbelief: “Wait- again?”

San exhaled sharply. “Holy shit, you have got to stop getting into life-threatening situations.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the note. “Yeah, well… at least this time, he gave me something.”

Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, a gift?, a love letter?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Not exactly.”

Carefully, you unfolded the paper, the streetlights casting just enough of a glow for you to see what was scribbled inside.

A phone number.

Your breath hitched slightly. “He gave me his number,” you murmured, more to yourself than to them.

Dead silence.

“WHAT?!” Wooyoung shrieked so loudly you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

San sounded equally stunned. “Hold on, he just gave you his number? Like—"here call me sometime." type of shit?”

You swallowed, staring down at the digits. “I… guess?”

Wooyoung was losing his mind. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THIS IS LIKE A ROMANCE MOVIE BUT IN REAL LIFE. YOU HAVE TO CALL HIM.”

San groaned. “Give her a second to process, dude.”

Your fingers traced over the numbers absently, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Yeah,” you muttered, barely registering their bickering. “I think I will.”

Because something told you this wasn’t just a random exchange. This was the beginning of something else. Something big.

And for the first time tonight, despite everything, a small smile found its way to your lips.

Three months had passed since that night. Since the explosion. Since the moment Spider-Man slipped you his number and changed your life forever.

Because Spider-Man was Jeong Yunho.

And now, he was your boyfriend.

The warm glow of your bedside lamp flickered gently against the walls, the soft scent of candles filling the dimly lit room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, your laptop balanced on your thighs as you mindlessly scrolled through your work. The night was calm, the city humming faintly in the background through your slightly open window.

Then there was a familiar thud. You barely had time to glance up before the window swung open, and a tall, breathless figure climbed inside.

Yunho.

His suit was slightly dirty, the red and blue fabric stretched taut over his muscular, tall frame. His chest rose and fell heavily as he pulled his mask off, tousled dark hair falling over his forehead. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair before looking at you., panting a bit.

You smirked, resting your chin in your palm. "Rough day, Yun?"

He let out a dry chuckle, tossing his mask onto your desk as he padded toward you. "You have no idea."

You shut your laptop, scooting over as he all but collapsed onto your bed with a dramatic sigh. He stretched out beside you, one arm draped lazily over his face. His eyes closed briefly as he relaxed beside you. The air between you both felt thick with something more than just the comfort of being together. He had been gone all night, and it had become routine for him to come to you like this—exhausted, a little broken, and yet still somehow whole in your presence.

You watched him, his chest rising and falling in time with his breathing. There was something about him tonight—something that felt different.

He turned his head to face you, his brown eyes meeting yours in the dim light. "I missed you," he muttered, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time he had said that, but tonight, it felt heavier, more real.

"I missed you too," you replied softly, your breath catching as you leaned closer, just barely brushing his arm with your fingers.

He smiled then, a slow, almost lazy smile that had a way of making your heartbeat quicken. Without a word, he shifted, moving until he was hovering above you, his body pressing down gently against yours. The familiar warmth of his chest, the scent of him—like cologne and sweat, and the faint hint of something stronger—surrounded you.

His hands, large and sure, braced on either side of your head as he looked down at you. His gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability passing through his eyes before it was replaced with something darker—something that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, his voice barely a whisper, his face inches from yours.

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, Yunho. It’s okay."

And with that, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more desperate, more urgent. His hands slid to your sides, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before pulling you closer as if he couldn't get enough of the feeling of you beneath him.

The kiss deepened, his body moving against yours in slow, deliberate motions that made your heart race, and your senses heighten. Every part of you burned for him, and he could feel it in the way your body responded to his gentle touch.

His lips left yours, trailing hot kisses along your jaw, down your neck, the soft exhale of his breath making your skin tingle. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging him back to meet your lips again, pulling him closer as if you never wanted to let him go.

Yunho groaned against your lips, his hands sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach. The touch sent a shockwave of heat through you, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your mouth.

"You drive me crazy, y'know that?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he nipped lightly at your earlobe.

You couldn’t help the small, breathless giggle that escaped your lips. "I could say the same about you."

His hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your body, and for a brief moment, there was a sense of hesitation in his movements. But only for a moment.

"I want you," he whispered, his voice raw with desire.

Your heart skipped again. You could feel the tension building between you both, the anticipation crackling in the air as you gazed up at him.

“I want you too,” you breathed, your hands sliding up to pull him closer, your body arching instinctively toward his.

The world outside, the city, the noise, the chaos, faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other. The kiss deepened once again, more desperate this time as if you were both starved for each other, needing this moment more than anything else.

The dark-haired boy's hands were everywhere now—on your back, your waist, your legs. His fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it off, desperate to feel more of you. you groaned as he did, your body shuddering slightly at the contact, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the sensation of being this close to him, of having him like this.

But before things could escalate further, Yunho pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his breath.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that only seemed to make everything more intense.

You nodded, your hands still tangled in his hair as you gazed up at him. “We don’t have to. I just want to be with you, Yunho.”

He smiled, his lips pressing against yours one last time—slow, gentle, a kiss that spoke volumes. And in that moment, it wasn’t just about the passion. It was about connection. About how, no matter what, you both had each other.

Yunho’s body pressed against yours, the weight of him both thrilling and intoxicating as he kissed you deeply, his lips claiming yours with an urgency that made your heart race. You felt the cool air of the room against your bare skin, every inch of you alive with anticipation. His suit was still intact, but the tension between you was palpable, and you could sense his desperation.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you pushed your hands down to the fabric of his suit, feeling the smooth material beneath your fingertips. “Yun,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing. “What if we take this off?”

He paused, his breath hitching as he looked down at you, a mix of desire and amusement in his gaze. “And ruin it? I just got this suit,” he replied, trying to maintain his composure, but you could see the hunger in his eyes.

“Who cares?” you challenged, your fingers gripping the fabric tighter. “You’ve got more important things to focus on right now.”

With a swift motion, you tugged at the fabric, your determination making you bold. The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the room, and you felt a thrill rush through you as you ripped a hole in the crotch area of his suit, revealing the toned skin beneath. His already hard cock sprung out and hit his covered stomach.

Yunho’s eyes widened in shock, and then he blushed, the tension breaking momentarily. “This is the second suit I’ve been through with you” he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, the sound ringing through the air as you looked up at him, your heart racing. “What can I say? You make it too easy to get carried away,” you teased, your fingers brushing against his exposed skin, feeling the heat radiate from him.

He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned down, capturing your lips again in a heated kiss. “You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body harder against yours.

“I learned from the best,” you shot back, the playful banter only heightening the tension between you. The sound of fabric tearing had only fueled the fire inside you, and you could feel the need building again, stronger than before. You ran your finger over his leaking tip.

Yunho pulled back slightly, glancing down at his ruined suit with mock seriousness. “I- I might need to start keeping a spare suit at y- your place,” he breathed, his tone teasing but laced with genuine desire as he panted a bit.

“Or maybe just skip the suit altogether next time,” you suggested with a smirk, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again, the urgency returning as he pressed his body against yours, the remnants of his suit only adding to the thrill of the moment. “If you keep this up, I might not be able to hold back,” he warned, his voice low and filled with promise.

“Then don’t hold back,” you challenged, your heart racing as you met his gaze, your body aching for him. “Such a pretty cock, hm?” You coo.

With a growl, Yunho wasted no time. He closed the distance again, kissing you fiercely, the remnants of his suit only serving to heighten the tension between you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as you surrendered to the moment, the laughter and playful teasing giving way to something deeper, more primal.

In that heated exchange, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—lost in each other, tangled up in passion, and utterly consumed by desire.

As Yunho kissed you deeply, the rip in his suit widened, and you could feel his hard member rub against you, throbbing. The thrill of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, the laughter still lingering from your earlier banter.

But then, as if the tension of the night had reached its peak, you felt the unmistakable sensation of his arousal pushing through the tear in his suit. Your breath hitched at the intensity of it, and Yunho’s gaze darkened as he pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s a little too eager,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with need.

With a swift motion, you pushed him back just enough to sit up, and before he could react, you tore at your own bottoms, fabric ripping away with a satisfying sound. The sudden exposure made your pulse race, and you reveled in the way his eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Now we’re both ready,” you teased, your voice sultry as you leaned closer, your body radiating heat as you pressed against him, skin to skin.

Yunho growled low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, his fingers curling around your waist as he pulled you closer, his body flush against yours.

He quickly shifted, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned you, and you could feel the undeniable heat of his desire against you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he confessed, his voice thick with lust as he pressed his body against yours, the remnants of his torn suit hanging around his hips.

“Then don’t hold back,” you urged, your breath hitching as you felt the weight of him pressing down, the heat radiating between you both. You needed him, needed to feel him fill the void that had been growing inside you.

With a fierce determination, Yunho pushed forward, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. The taste of him, the urgency of his movements, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you as he nestled deeper between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation, the heat building as he ground against you, seeking more, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy as he moved to kiss down your neck, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to your chest, igniting every nerve ending in your body.

“Yunho, please...” you begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him closer, craving more of him.

With a growl, he positioned himself, the moment stretching between you as anticipation crackled in the air. “Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of lust and tenderness.

You nodded, your heart racing as you whispered, “More than ready.”

In one swift motion, he thrust forward, the heat of him enveloping you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped, the pleasure coursing through you as his long and veiny cock filled you, stretching you in the best way. You could feel him deep inside, and everything else faded away—the world outside, the chaos of life—until it was just the two of you, lost in each other.

“Yunho,” you moaned, your body arching instinctively against him, urging him on as he began to move, his rhythm steady and intoxicating. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you felt yourself spiraling, surrendering completely to the sensations. He kept hitting your G-spot causing you to whine and moan.

He matched your movements, his breath ragged as he lost himself in you. “Y- you feel so good, tiny” he groaned, his voice filled with raw desire, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, wanting every inch of you.

The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting against skin, the heat between you rising with each passing moment. You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the world around you fading into nothing as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your bodies.

“Yu- Yunho, don’t stop-” you gasped, each thrust igniting a fire within you, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, the pleasure reaching a peak as you clung to him, urging him on, wanting nothing more than to feel him completely.

Yunho filled you completely, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. He held you close, his breath hot against your neck as he began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his every thrust, the rhythm building between you as passion grew.

With each movement, his thrust grew more sloppy and hard, whines and moans filled the room. The taller boy grunted as he gripped onto your hips. You could feel the heat pooling deep within you, the tension building with every thrust, every stroke. Yunho’s eyes were locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your heart race even more.

“Yunho,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets as you surrendered completely to the pleasure he was giving you. “I- f— fuck.”

He responded with a low growl, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, the primal rhythm echoing in the room as you lost yourself in the intensity of your connection. You could feel every inch of him, every powerful thrust igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

Suddenly, with a wicked glint in his eyes, Yunho shifted his grip and pulled your hands above your head. “Let’s make this even more interesting,” he murmured, shooting out a silky web from his his hands—a playful reference to his alter ego. In one swift motion, he tied your wrists together, securing them above your head.

A thrill raced through you at the sensation of being restrained, the vulnerability heightening the intensity of everything you were feeling. “Yunho, what are you—” you started, but he silenced you with a fierce kiss, his body pressing down against yours, pinning you to the bed.

“Just trust me,” he said, his voice low and teasing. The possessiveness in his tone sent another wave of heat through you, and you nodded, surrendering completely to him.

With your hands tied, Yunho resumed his movements, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding. The sensation of being held down while he drove into you was exhilarating, and you could feel the tension building higher and higher with each powerful stroke.

“Yunho, yes,” you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming as he hit all the right spots, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you completely. You could feel every single inch of him, the way he filled you, stretched you, driving you closer to the edge.

“You like that?” he asked, a smirk on his lips, his eyes dark with desire as he watched your reactions. “I want to hear you.”

“More,” you begged, your voice breathless as you writhed beneath him, the pleasure coiling tighter within you. He was relentless, and the way he took control was intoxicating. Each thrust was a reminder of his power, his desire to consume you completely.

“More, huh?” he teased, his thrusts deepening as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans. The connection between you sparked with electricity, and you felt yourself spiraling, losing track of everything except the way he was making you feel.

Yunho picked up the pace, his movements becoming more frantic, His length hit the spot, making you whimper from it. the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. You could feel the pressure building, a delicious tension pulling tight within you, and you knew you were getting close.

“Yunho, I’m—” you gasped, your body arching against him, desperately seeking that release.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. “I’ve got you.”

With a final thrust, the world exploded around you. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name, the sound echoing in the air as you let go completely, surrendering to the intense ecstasy that washed over you.

You open your mouth as you came on him. squeezing his member, making his grip on your waist tighten.

Yunho followed closely behind, his thrusts becoming erratic as he reached his own peak, the sound of his groan filling your ears as he buried himself deep inside you, riding the waves of pleasure together. He painted your walls with his cum, groaning as he does so.

As the intensity faded and you both collapsed against each other, he quickly untied your hands, pulling you close. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you could feel his heart racing against yours.

“Now that was something,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

You laughed softly, the exhilaration of the moment still lingering in the air. “You definitely know how to make an impression.”

s the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourselves tangled together, hearts racing, breaths mingling in the aftermath of sex. Yunho collapsed beside you, pulling you close, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the remnants of your shared intensity lingering in the air.

“Guess I’ll have to invest in some sturdier suits,” he chuckled, glancing down at the remnants of his attire, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing in the dim light of the room.

“Or just come to me without one next time,” you suggested a playful grin on your face.

“Now that sounds like a plan,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a protective cocoon.

And in that moment, as you lay together, you knew that this was just the beginning of many more adventures to come.

Yunho chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait until next time. I have plenty more tricks up my sleeve.”

With a playful smile, you snuggled closer to him, knowing this was just the beginning of many more unforgettable moments together.

[bnanamlkluvr]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Agora Hills - STRIPPER ♡

SUMMARY / You see a new face enter the club and he asks for a private lap dance. The longer you two spent with each other, the less you could keep your hands off each other.

warnings ✩ SMUT, reader has a stage name! (velvet), switch!yunho, dom!reader, fem!reader, stripper!reader, groping, dry humping, pet names, dirty talk, yunho cums handsfree, unprotected sex, virgin!yunho (mwehehe), handjob, reader is a gentle dom, semi-pubic sex (they're in a strip club, duh, but like also in private)

word count ✩ 2,18k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Hey, Velvet!" your manager beckoned you over. "We've got a new guy asking for a private dance."

"New?" you sit up from your chair, rolling your eyes and folding your arms together. "Did you make sure he wasn't a creep? Every other dude I've given a dance to has always been too -- touchy."

Your manager, a heavyset man named Bo, chuckles. "Don't worry, he's not like the others. Just a bit shy, I think." He winks. "I've got a good feeling about this one."

"You say that a lot about everyone, so I don't think you realize how unhelpful that is." you scoot your chair back and grab your heels. "Just give me a sec."

The VIP section was tucked away in the basement of the club, dimly lit and slightly less chaotic than the main floor. Different rooms for each client. Each had a velvet curtain for privacy. Bo led you to the last one and pushed it open. Inside was a man sitting in the chair, his back to the door. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, his hair a shaggy mess of dark locks. The stark contrast between the opulence of the chair and his casual attire was peculiar but somehow fitting.

Bo left you alone and you slowly walk over, the click of your heels alerting him. He seemed so…innocent, like someone who really didn't belong in a place like this. You felt a twinge of curiosity mixed with a strange sense of protectiveness.

He even gulped when he first laid eyes on you. You were gorgeous, even though he could barely see your face due to the lighting.

"You look so out of place, hun." you murmur, a smirk playing on your lips. He turns slightly, and even in the shadows, you see his cheeks redden. "But if you're here for a lap dance, I guess you're not as innocent as I thought."

"M-My friends brought me here f-for my birthday." he gulps and you narrow your eyes.

"How old are you?"

"…2-25." The man's voice cracks, and you can't help but chuckle at his nervousness.

You lean down and whisper in his ear, "Well, happy birthday." His scent, something faintly sweet and musky, fills your nostrils. It's intoxicating, and you find yourself drawn closer to him.

He tugs at his pants nervously as you lean in, your heart racing in a mix of excitement and apprehension. You can feel the heat from his body, his breaths quickening as he fumbles over his words. "Thanks, I-I've never done this before."

"I can tell. Just relax. If you need me to stop at any point in time, you can tell me. Now, are you ready?" You ask, placing your hand gently on his shoulder. He nods, and you can feel the tension in his muscles ease slightly. You start to sway your hips to the slow beat of the music, letting the rhythm flow through you as you move closer.

The music fills the room, a sultry melody that wraps around the two of you like a warm embrace. Your movements are fluid, your body a canvas that tells a silent story of seduction. His eyes are glued to yours, searching for a sign of approval or perhaps a hint of understanding. You lean in, your breath hot against his cheek, and begin to dance.

Your hands glide over his shoulders and chest, teasingly tracing the lines of his body without making contact. Each beat of the music brings you closer, until you're straddling his thighs, your hips grinding in time with the bass. He's frozen, his eyes wide and his breathing erratic. You can feel the thump of his heart beneath you, the heat of his skin burning through his shirt.

"You can touch me," you whisper in his ear. "Just don't go overboard, okay?"

He nods, his hands tentatively finding their way to your hips. His touch is light, almost shy, but it sends electric shocks through your body. You guide his hands, teaching him how to follow your rhythm, how to move with the music. His fingertips trace the fabric of your dress, and the way he looks at you, with a mix of awe and desire, makes you feel powerful, sexy, alive.

"Your first lap dance, hm?" you say, your voice low and playful as you move to the rhythm. "Well, you're in good hands."

His grip tightens slightly as he tries to keep up with your movements, his thumbs brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You lean back, arching your body, and he takes the cue, his hands moving up your sides to cup your breasts gently. You gasp, the intimacy of the touch surprising you. It's been a long time since a client has made you feel anything beyond the mechanical movements of your job.

You place your hand on top of his and he immediately lets go. "S-Sorry! Sorry! W-Was I not supposed to-"

"Shh," you place a finger on his lips, silencing him. "It's okay. Just go with the flow." You lean into him, your breath warm and comforting. "You're doing fine."

The dance goes on, his touch becoming bolder, yet respectful. His eyes never leave yours, and the intensity in them is palpable. The room seems to shrink around you, the music fading into the background as the only sounds are your mingled breaths and the gentle whispers of the air conditioner. Your hands trace the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble, the pulse in his neck, and the way he swallows hard when you touch him.

You lean in closer, your breaths mingling as you dance. His eyes searched yours, questioning, but you give him a soft nod of encouragement. His hands slip down to your hips again, and this time, they don't stop. The friction of your bodies becomes unbearable, and you can feel the tension coiling tightly inside of you. This dance has become more than just a job; it's a silent conversation between two strangers, a moment of raw connection in a place where touch is usually just a transaction.

His thumbs graze your skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever they go. You bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan, surprised by your own reaction. You've danced for countless men, but none have ever made you feel like this. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your body moves almost on its own, responding to his touch like it's been starved of affection for too long.

"I-" he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut and his head lowering. Your hand on his neck guides him, and suddenly, your lips are on his. It's a soft kiss, tentative and questioning, but it's enough to send a bolt of lightning through your veins. You deepen it, your tongues meeting in a dance as old as time, as the music continues to throb around you.

Suddenly, he was digging his nails into your skin, stopping the movement of your hips as his body tensed. You pull away from the kiss and look down, smiling a bit. "You okay?"

"I-I, um.." he shifted around in the seat, "I-I…I came…"

"…You're serious?" You laugh lightly, trying to keep the situation from becoming awkward. The blush on his cheeks deepens, and he nods, looking down at his lap.

You lean back slightly, giving him a moment to compose himself. "Well, that's quite the compliment," you murmur, your voice filled with amusement. "I guess I'm good at my job."

"Y-You…you felt that though, right-?"

"I can't really feel you cum so no-"

"I meant between us." His voice is hoarse and sincere, and his eyes are now looking directly into yours, searching for something you're not quite sure you're ready to give him. But the connection is undeniable, a spark that's been kindled into a flame.

"Yeah," you smile, running your hands through his hair. "Wanna do it again?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment before he nods eagerly. "Y-Yes," he stammers, and you can feel his excitement building as you lean in for another kiss. This one is less tentative, more demanding, as you explore his mouth with the same passion that fuels your dance. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer, and you can't help but feel a thrill at his eagerness.

You moved your hand down and tugged at his jeans and you could've sworn you felt shivers run through his body. He was already hard, which didn't surprise you, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you gave him a knowing smile and whispered, "Aw, look at that."

Your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it gently in rhythm with the music. His breath hitched in his throat and he gripped the chair, eyes wide. "Is this too much?"

"N-no, it's perfect," he gasped, his voice thick with desire.

You giggle and lift your hips a little, pushing your thong to the side. "Nobody's watching…"

He nods, his eyes glazed over with lust, and you can tell he's lost in the moment. You feel his cock twitch in your hand as you guide it towards your wetness. The anticipation is palpable as you line it up and slowly lower yourself onto him. You both gasp as he fills you up, the sensation of him inside you making you clench around him.

He didn't know what to do with his hands, his ears were ringing, sweat beads ran down his forehead -- everything was too much, too many sensations hitting him at once. He felt like he was about to pass out from the sheer overload of pleasure. You noticed his confusion and took control, placing his hands on your hips and guiding his movements, showing him how to move with the music that was still playing in the background, almost forgotten.

"You okay? Actin' like you've never been in pussy before." You tease, a mischievous glint in your eye. He nods, trying to focus. "Just let me do the work."

"T-This is my first time-" he stammers, his eyes squeezed shut as you start to move up and down. His inexperience is evident, but it's endearing in a way you didn't expect.

"And you went to a strip club to lose your virginity? Not the best idea, but it's okay because you got me as the one to take it." You say, your voice a mix of amusement and seduction.

"I-I might cum-" he inhales sharply. "I-I'm sorry, 'm sorry-"

"It's okay," you whisper, your voice soothing as you lean in to kiss his neck. "Just enjoy it. I'm on birth control anyway."

He nods, his movements becoming more confident as he follows your lead. Each thrust brings you closer to the edge, the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you in sync with the music, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The scent of your combined arousal fills the air, mixing with the faint smell of sweat and cologne. His hands grip your hips tightly as you ride him, your breasts bouncing with the rhythm.

"F-F-Fuck-" he sighed, almost sounding as if he was crying. "I-It feels so good…"

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of something. You've had a lot of firsts in this job, but there was something about his vulnerability that got to you. You leaned in and kissed him deeply, his cock still inside you, his hands gripping your hips as you began to move faster. The music was a faint echo in your ears as you lost yourself in the moment, letting go of the walls you usually kept up during a dance.

His body was trembling beneath you, and you knew he was close. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, urging him on, feeling his heart race against your chest. The music built up to a crescendo, and you matched it, your hips moving in a frenzied dance as he reached his peak. You felt him throb inside you, and the sensation sent you over the edge too, a quiet moan escaping your lips.

"You're doing so good," you giggle, feeling the warmth spread through your body as you reach your own climax. The tension in the room snaps and you lean into his shoulder, breathing heavily. "You're not so innocent after all."

He chuckles nervously, his grip on you loosening as he tries to catch his breath. "I-I guess not," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

"You gonna cum? Gonna fill up my pretty little pussy, hm?" You whisper in his ear, your voice a seductive purr. His breathing hitches and his body tenses beneath you. "Do it," you urge, your voice low and needy. "I want to feel it."

With a gasp, he does. You can feel his warmth flood into you, his muscles tightening as he releases. It's a beautiful, intimate moment, one that you don't usually experience in this line of work. But with him, it's different. You're not just a body to him; you're a person, and that makes all the difference.

[bnanamlkluvr]

「 Size Matters, right? - Yungi 」

"Tsk.. you don't even know whose cock you’re taking, do you?"

~ "Reader makes a joke about their sizes so they play a game to see if reader can tell who's fucking them" - req. by anon

pairing: yungi x fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: you kust love testing these two... until they test you to the verge of snapping, making you beg.

wc: 4.9k

warnings: rough!yungi, teasing, blindfold, multiple orgasms, lots of cum, kissing, fingering, double penetration, double fingering, dirty talk + degrading (slut), possessiveness, intent of free use, let's say they're fwb, they switch way too many times, begging, multiple rounds, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), completely consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: tysm anon for this request hello... i need holy water now ty 🤡 it was *insanenly intense*. hope to see you again around !!!! if you request again lmk if it was up to your expectations ^^ or simply lmk in the request form love youuu

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The night had started out innocent enough—at least, as innocent as things ever got between the three of you.

You were wedged between them on the couch, Yunho on your left, Mingi on your right, warmth seeping from their bodies into yours. A movie was playing, but none of you were watching. Not with the way their hands had started to wander.

Yunho’s fingers were tracing slow, absentminded circles on your thigh, just barely under the hem of your shorts. Mingi was less subtle, his palm resting on your hip, fingers occasionally squeezing as if reminding you of his presence. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, thick with anticipation. It was always like this with them—slow, drawn-out teasing before one of you finally snapped.

But tonight? Tonight, you were feeling bold.

You shifted, letting your hand drift casually onto Yunho’s lap. His thigh tensed beneath your palm, and you smirked to yourself. Without hesitation, you let your other hand move to Mingi, your fingers pressing lightly against his inner thigh. The way he stiffened under your touch made a spark of satisfaction flicker through you.

"Mm," you hummed, nails lightly scraping over Yunho’s clothed thigh before giving Mingi the same treatment. "I don’t think you guys understand just how well I know you."

Yunho exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around your leg. "Oh?"

Mingi raised a brow, his hand pressing more firmly against your hip. "Is that so?"

You bit back a smirk, fingers inching higher on both of them. "Mhm. I know you both so well… I could probably tell who’s fucking me with my eyes closed."

Silence.

Then Yunho laughed, the sound dark and low. "Oh, really?"

Mingi scoffed, tilting his head. "That’s a bold claim, sweetheart."

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance as you lightly squeezed their thighs. "It’s not a claim, it’s a fact." You leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something more sultry. "I’ve been fucked by you two enough times to know the difference."

That got their attention.

Mingi’s grip on your hip turned bruising, his fingers digging into your flesh. Yunho’s hand slid further up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your shorts higher. They shared a look above your head, something dark and knowing, before Yunho turned back to you, his smile slow and dangerous.

"You sure about that?"

Your smirk widened. "Positive."

Mingi hummed, his fingers trailing up your arm. "That so?"

Yunho exhaled, amusement laced with something far more sinister. "Then we should test that."

You blinked, the weight of their words settling in. "Test—?"

Mingi’s lips brushed against your ear. "If you’re so confident, baby, let’s see you prove it." Yunho’s other hand came up, fingers gently tracing your jaw. “Let's… blindfold you.”

Your breath caught, but neither of them gave you a chance to react.

"Then we’ll take turns fucking you," Mingi continued, his voice dropping lower. "And you’re gonna guess who’s inside you."

Yunho’s lips curled into a smirk. "And only when you get it right will we let you cum."

Your stomach clenched, heat pooling low in your belly.

Mingi chuckled at your silence, his palm sliding down to squeeze your thigh. "Oh, what’s wrong, sweetheart?"

Yunho tilted his head. "You were so confident just a second ago."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Mingi and Yunho didn’t stop smirking at you, their amusement growing as Yunho leaned closer. Before you had a chance to react, his hand slipped down your body, moving with a slow confidence that made you shiver.

"Jesus, you’re already so wet…" Yunho’s fingers slid past the waistband of your panties, the soft fabric brushing your sensitive skin before diving straight between your folds. He barely gave you a chance to adjust, slipping two fingers in slowly, stretching you open just enough for him to feel your heat.

You gasped, your body tightening at the sudden intrusion. "What’s the matter, baby?" Yunho’s voice was low, almost smug, as he dragged his fingers deeper, forcing you to grind down onto his hand. "Did you think you could just tease us and get away with it?"

Yunho’s thumb moved up to circle your clit, pressing firmly and teasingly as he kept his fingers deep inside you. "So, you were saying," he purred, his gaze flicking to Mingi, then back to you. "You think you can tell who’s fucking you, huh?"

You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, the pressure building in your core. You blinked up at Yunho, trying to focus, but your head was spinning. "I-I’m sure…"

"Sure about what?" Yunho taunted, curling his fingers inside you to make you jerk against his hand. "That you’ll know exactly who’s who by our cocks?" He added, his voice turning darker, rougher. "We’ll see about that."

Mingi chuckled, the sound deep and amused. "She thinks she knows? Interesting." he said as his hand slipped beneath your shirt, cupping your breasts.

Yunho started pumping his fingers in and out, each stroke rough and punishing as he continued to work you open. "You think you can guess?" he growled, his lips curling into a twisted grin. "Because if you’re wrong… we won’t let you cum.."

You moaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut, your hips moving of their own accord. "I’ll guess," you said, breathless. "I can tell."

Mingi moved closer, dragging a finger lightly down your jaw, tilting your face so that you had to look at him. "Tell us, then," he purred, the challenge clear in his voice. "Tell us how badly you want us."

Yunho’s fingers slid in deeper, harder, his thumb circling your clit in rhythmic, relentless movements. "Tell us, sweetheart," he grunted. "Who’s got you this wet, hm?”

Your answer was nothing but a soft gasp, your body moving involuntarily as Yunho fucked his fingers into you, curling them at just the right angle.

"You don’t even know, do you?" Yunho hissed, suddenly pulling his fingers out of you, leaving you wanting more. “Such a little slut… Guess you’ll have to find out the hard way."

Mingi’s eager hands gripped your waist as he effortlessly lifted you off the ground, spinning you around and throwing you onto the bed with a slight chuckle. Your breath caught as you bounced on the mattress, heart racing in anticipation of what was to come. He towered over you in an instant, a hunger in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Ready to play, sweetheart?" he growled, a wicked grin curving his lips.

Before you could respond, Mingi reached over to the nightstand, his movements swift and practiced, pulling a black silk blindfold from the drawer. He was already stripping it open, his eyes never leaving yours as he tied it around your head, blocking out all sight and plunging you into complete darkness.

A soft, teasing chuckle escaped Yunho’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Look at you, Mingi," he teased, "as eager as she is. I guess she’s rubbing off on you."

Mingi shot Yunho a playful, half-resentful glare before positioning himself on the bed. "I can’t help it," he muttered, hovering over you as his hands roamed your body. "She’s so fucking irresistible."

You could feel the heat of Mingi’s body hovering just above yours, his breath tickling your skin as Yunho slowly walked closer, smirking at the scene unfolding. Mingi slid his hands to your hips, pinning you down, his fingers digging into the soft skin. "Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise, "we’ll get this game started real soon."

Yunho chuckled again, shaking his head, but the amusement in his gaze was unmistakable. "You think she’s ready for what we’re about to do?" he teased Mingi, his voice soft but dripping with intent.

Mingi smirked, his hands gently trailing up your thighs before resting on your hips. "Oh, she’s ready. Isn’t that right, baby?" he whispered, before planting a gentle kiss against your neck, moving slowly, deliberately.

You shivered, nodding your head even though you couldn’t see them, feeling your pulse quicken as the tension between you three thickened. The anticipation, the waiting, was almost too much to bear. But then, Mingi’s fingers traced over your body, touching you everywhere, making you ache for more.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he teased, voice dipping low. "You ready to play along? Guess who’s fucking you?"

You swallowed thickly, already trembling under the touch of their hands, knowing the game had just begun.

The rustling of clothes fills the room, each piece hitting the floor with a soft thud. Even blindfolded, you can hear them, sense the way they move around you like predators circling prey. Then, Yunho’s hands are on you—strong, demanding.

"Up." His tone leaves no room for hesitation. He manhandles you with ease, lifting you into his lap as he leans back against the headboard. Your back presses against his firm chest, his legs spread wide beneath you, forcing yours open. His hands grip your thighs, keeping them in place. Trapped.

"There we go, baby," he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. "Right where we want you."

Then there’s Mingi.

Settling between your legs, he lets out a low groan at the sight of your soaked panties. He presses two fingers against the damp fabric, dragging them up your slit slowly, teasingly.

"Look at this mess, Yunho." His voice is thick with mockery. "She’s already dripping onto your thighs."

Yunho chuckles, his breath hot against your ear. His hands move up, palms grazing your stomach before sliding to your chest. He cups your breasts, thumbs flicking over your already sensitive nipples.

"Of course she is," he muses, rolling one nipple between his fingers, tugging just enough to make you whimper. "She loves being used."

Before you can protest—not that you’d ever dare—Mingi hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down your thighs. The cool air barely has a chance to touch your soaked core before he pushes two fingers inside you, knuckles deep without warning.

A gasp rips from your throat, your body jerking, but Yunho tightens his hold, keeping you locked against him.

"Tsk, tsk," Mingi murmurs, curling his fingers inside you. "So fucking tight, and we haven’t even started."

"She can take more," Yunho says smoothly, his free hand sliding down your stomach. Before you can even process it, his fingers press against your entrance, slipping inside beside Mingi’s.

Your body tenses—overwhelmed, stretched, full—but neither of them give you a moment to adjust. They move in tandem, pushing deeper, working you open with no patience, no mercy. Your moans come in breathless little sobs, hips twitching between them.

"That’s it," Mingi coos mockingly, his thumb rubbing slow, taunting circles over your clit. "Take it like the desperate little thing you are."

Yunho’s lips graze your ear, his voice dangerously soft. "Who’s gonna break you first, baby?"

Mingi smirks, watching your body tremble.

"Doesn’t matter." His fingers pump harder, faster, sending shockwaves through you. "She’s gonna take us both anyway."

Yunho’s fingers keep working inside you, matching Mingi’s pace, stretching you open without an ounce of patience. The two of them are relentless, their movements synced—one thrusting deep, the other pressing against that sweet spot inside you that has your legs trembling.

Your moans are ragged, breath hitching every time their fingers push deeper. Mingi’s thumb flicks over your clit, teasing, taunting.

"She’s getting close," he murmurs, watching the way your body reacts. "Think we should let her cum?"

Yunho only smirks, locking eyes with him. A silent message passes between them.

Who’s taking her first?

Mingi tilts his head, considering. Then, he chuckles darkly. "Go ahead.” he signals.

The second the decision is made, they pull their fingers out at the same time. The sudden emptiness makes you whimper, thighs twitching as your walls clench around nothing. But before you can even process the loss, Yunho is already moving.

He grips your waist, lifting you with ease before placing you on the bed, your body sinking into the mattress. Both men hover over you, their eyes dark, predatory.

"Fuck, look at her," Mingi murmurs, raking his gaze down your body. "Completely ruined, and we haven’t even started."

Your chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, the blindfold still robbing you of sight. But you can feel their eyes on you—devouring, consuming. The way they hover, the heat radiating off their bare skin, the way Yunho’s weight dips the bed as he moves between your legs.

Then, a soft metallic clink.

One. Then another.

They’re taking off their rings.

Your lips part, realization hitting you hard. They’re making it impossible for you to tell who’s inside you.

"That's fucking mean," you whisper, barely audible.

Mingi clicks his tongue, fingers tracing over your trembling thighs. "Aw, baby, you look so nervous." His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s nothing comforting about it. "What’s wrong? Can’t tell who’s about to ruin you?"

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but then one of them moves between your legs.

No warning. No words.

Just the thick, aching heat of a cock dragging through your soaked folds, teasing, testing.

And then—he thrusts in.

Your body shatters around the stretch, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as he sinks in deep. No patience, no hesitation—just one smooth, brutal thrust until he’s buried to the hilt, your walls tightening around him as you struggle to adjust.

He doesn’t make a sound.

No moans, no teasing, not even a sharp inhale. Just the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, the heavy grip on your thighs keeping you spread wide.

Your lips part, breathless and dazed. "M-Mingi?"

A dark chuckle comes from beside you, but the man inside you? Silent.

Mingi’s fingers brush your jaw, tilting your head towards him. "Is that your guess?" His tone is smug, knowing. "Are you sure?"

Your mind is foggy, thoughts scrambled from the way he’s filling you—slow at first, dragging back just enough to make you feel every inch before slamming back in. Your breath hitches, nails digging into the sheets.

It has to be Mingi. Right? The way he’s holding you down, the way he—

Your thoughts disintegrate when he moves.

The next thrust is ruthless. Deep. Precise. The kind of stroke that knocks the air from your lungs, that makes your back arch off the bed as a cry rips from your throat.

You can’t even think straight.

You try again, voice barely a whisper. "Y-Yunho?"

Silence.

No confirmation. No denial. Just another brutal snap of his hips, deeper this time, dragging a moan from your lips before you can stop it.

"Tsk," Mingi coos, his fingers sliding down your throat, pressing just enough to make your head spin. "You don’t even know whose cock you’re taking, do you?"

You try to focus—on the grip on your waist, the way he moves, the way he stretches you. But it’s useless. He’s fucking you too hard, too deep, your body bouncing with each thrust, your moans breaking into incoherent little sobs.

And the worst part? The man between your legs still hasn’t said a damn thing.

Just fucking you into the mattress, watching you come undone, knowing you’ll never guess right.

And you don’t.

Because at this point, it doesn’t even matter.

The man inside you—Yunho (you think, you hope)—doesn’t hold back. His thrusts are deep, brutal, every stroke sinking to the hilt before pulling back just enough to make you feel the loss, only to slam back in harder. Your body jerks with every movement, helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy.

And he still doesn’t make a sound.

No moans, no taunts, nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and your breathy, desperate whimpers filling the air. You hate how easily you’re unraveling, how your body is already tightening, clenching around him, the pleasure coiling low in your stomach. You’re close—so close—your fingers gripping the sheets, legs trembling as your orgasm creeps up fast.

"P-Please," you whimper, not even sure who you’re begging. "Let me cum."

You can feel Yunho smirk against your skin. But he doesn’t answer.

Instead, he pulls out.

A sob rips from your throat at the sudden emptiness, your walls clenching around nothing, the pleasure fading into sharp frustration. You try to squeeze your legs shut, to chase something, but a firm hand grips your thighs, spreading you wide again.

Then you hear it.

The subtle shift of bodies. The rustle of movement.

And then—a new cock presses against your entrance.

Mingi.

Or at least, you think it’s Mingi. You don’t even have time to guess before he thrusts in, just as deep, just as brutal, splitting you open like you were made for this.

A strangled moan escapes your lips, your brain scrambling to figure out who it is, to recognize the way he moves, the way he fills you. But it’s impossible. You can barely focus with the way he’s pounding into you, each thrust hitting exactly where you need, dragging you right back to the edge of pleasure.

Your body tenses, tightening around him, ready to snap—

And then he pulls out too.

"No," you cry, voice breaking.

A deep chuckle. "Poor thing," Mingi murmurs, but you can’t tell if it’s him who was just inside you or if he’s sitting back, watching.

Your head is spinning, your body aching, but there’s no time to think—because once again, a new cock presses against your entrance.

Yunho.

Or maybe Mingi.

You have no idea.

The stretch is immediate, the fullness almost unbearable after being denied twice, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. Your mind is nothing but static, your body trembling as they take turns with you, switching again and again, keeping you on the edge but never letting you fall.

Your thighs burn, your skin slick with sweat, your voice hoarse from begging.

But then—

When the next body presses against you, when the next cock slides inside, you feel it.

The way he angles himself. The way his hips roll slightly different.

Your body is trembling, every nerve alight with overstimulation, your mind fogged by the endless cycle of pleasure and denial. You don’t even know how many times they’ve switched, how many times they’ve pushed you to the brink only to rip it away at the last second.

But this time—this time, you know.

The second he thrusts back in, the stretch, the curve of him—it clicks.

"Yunho," you gasp, your voice wrecked from begging, from moaning, from taking.

For the first time, he makes a sound. A low, dark chuckle rumbles from his chest, and his grip on your waist tightens.

"Finally," Mingi muses from beside you, his tone laced with amusement. His hand ghosts over your jaw, tilting your face towards him. His lips brush against your ear, breath hot. "You really are a good little slut, huh? Figuring out who’s using you like this?"

A wave of heat washes over you at the praise, your thighs twitching, desperate for friction. But before you can get lost in it—before you can even think of chasing that pleasure—Yunho pulls out.

Your whole body jolts from the loss, a strangled sob escaping your lips.

"Shh," Mingi soothes, though there’s nothing gentle about the way he grips your throat, forcing your head back. His thumb strokes over your pulse, feeling how erratic it is. "You don’t think we’d let you cum that easily, do you?"

You whimper, shaking your head, because you already know the answer.

"Good girl," he purrs, pressing a slow, taunting kiss to your jaw before pulling back.

Then, his next words make your stomach drop.

"Yunho. Pick her up."

A rush of air fills your lungs as strong arms hook under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. Your body is weightless, dizzy with exhaustion, but you feel the way Yunho settles back against the headboard, the broad expanse of his chest supporting you as he spreads your legs wide over his lap. And then—Mingi moves between them. Your breath stutters.

You barely have a second to react before Mingi’s hands grip your thighs, pushing them even wider as he presses himself against you. The slick drag of him against your already stretched entrance makes your head spin, the reality of what’s about to happen sinking in.

"Oh," you whisper, voice shaky.

Mingi smirks, dragging the head of his cock over your swollen, ruined cunt.

"Oh," he mocks, his voice dripping with amusement. "She finally gets it."

You barely get a chance to prepare before Yunho tightens his grip on your waist, and the pressure between your legs doubles.

And then—

They sink in together.

Your vision whites out, your body convulsing from the impossible stretch, the overwhelming fullness, the way they force you open, taking everything they give.

"Fuck," Mingi growls, voice strained. "She’s taking us both so fucking well."

Yunho doesn’t say a word. He just moves.

And the last coherent thought you have is that they still haven’t let you cum.

And you have no idea when they will.

The world outside your body seems to disappear as they continue, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched in both directions, filled and claimed in ways that make your head spin. The steady rhythm of their thrusts has your body writhing beneath them, and your chest rises and falls erratically with each deep push. They’re relentless. Neither one of them lets up, their hips slamming into yours with a force that has you gasping for air, your nails digging into the sheets beneath you.

You can barely keep track of who's inside you anymore. Your body’s giving itself over completely, the pressure building relentlessly as both men move in perfect harmony. Their pace never falters, pushing you to the brink of overwhelming pleasure, but they don't let you reach it. Not yet.

Every thrust is deeper, harder, until it feels like you’re being driven into the mattress, your body lifted slightly with each savage movement. The relentless pounding has you gasping for breath, your legs trembling with the intensity of their touch. You’re on the edge—so close—but then it happens again: they pull back.

You whimper, lost in the pleasure and the frustration, your body trembling with need.

"Please," you beg, your voice breaking, barely able to form the words. "Please... let me... please..."

Mingi chuckles low, his grip tightening around your hips. "Begging already? You’re a desperate little slut, huh?" His words are a mixture of praise and command, teasing you with the harsh edge of his tone.

Yunho doesn't respond with words, but the way he drives into you next, the sheer force of his movement, speaks louder than anything he could have said. You cry out, tears filling your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. The sounds of their movements and your moans fill the room, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. But still, they don’t let you tip over.

"You're gonna beg for it, aren't you?" Mingi murmurs, voice hushed but full of dark amusement. His hands roam over your body, touching, teasing, leaving you desperate for more. "Beg for us, baby. Beg us to let you cum."

You shake your head in disbelief, the frustration building to an unbearable point. "Please, please... I need it," you beg, voice trembling, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I need to cum... please."

Yunho grits his teeth, his hips snapping faster, deeper, forcing you to take every inch. The way he pushes into you, the way his body moves against yours—there’s no stopping it, no controlling it. You can feel the tension coiling tighter in your stomach, every thrust driving you closer to the edge, but the denial is unbearable.

Then—finally—they relent.

Mingi leans down, his lips crashing against yours in a rough, passionate kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you as he thrusts harder. At the same time, Yunho’s hand slips between your legs, finding your clit, and his fingers begin to work it in tight, controlled circles.

Your body jolts at the touch, the sudden rush of sensation overwhelming, and without warning, the pressure in your core snaps. You’re spiraling, tumbling over the edge as they push you past every boundary. Your body trembles beneath them, your cries of pleasure swallowed by Mingi’s kiss, the heat and the relief washing over you in waves.

Yunho doesn’t stop, his fingers never ceasing their movement as your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you gasping, panting, writhing in the aftermath.

Mingi pulls back from the kiss, his grin dark and satisfied. "That’s it," he murmurs. "Good girl. You did so well."

Your body is trembling, raw from the intense pleasure and the overwhelming teasing, but they’re not done with you yet. You’re spent, but still, the deep, relentless pounding continues, pushing you to the edge again. The air is thick with their dominance, their control over you, and it leaves you gasping for breath, struggling to keep up with their relentless pace.

Mingi leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re taking us so well, little slut,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you harder, deeper, pushing you further into the bed. The sensation is almost too much, and yet, you can’t help but want more. Every inch of you craves it—more of them, more of their control, more of the feeling of being filled and used like this.

But then—Yunho.

You hear the soft click of a drawer beside him. You can’t even process it before he pulls something small from the drawer—a vibrator. A small, sleek bullet, cold against your skin for a split second before he presses it against your clit.

You gasp. The sensation is too much. Your body tenses, already sensitive from the constant stimulation, and Yunho doesn’t waste a moment. The tiny vibrator buzzes against you, sending shocks of pleasure that make your body jolt. You can barely think as Mingi keeps fucking into you with no mercy, your body being pounded relentlessly, your mind spinning with the overload of sensation.

Yunho’s fingers work the vibrator over your clit with precision, each pulse sending you closer and closer to the edge. You’re shaking, completely at their mercy, unable to do anything but moan and beg as they continue. Your walls tighten around Mingi, and the pressure is almost unbearable.

And then, as the vibrator presses harder, the combination of the pounding and the stimulation hits you like a wave. Your body tenses, and a cry escapes your lips as your orgasm crashes over you. It’s intense, overwhelming, and your entire body clenches, the sensations rippling through you as you come.

But they’re not done yet.

As you tremble, still recovering from the overwhelming wave of pleasure, Mingi growls in satisfaction, his grip tightening around you, forcing you to stay in place as Yunho never stops, his fingers still pressing the vibrator against your clit. The pressure builds again, too much to bear, but you can’t pull away—you're trapped in this endless cycle of pleasure and denial.

They move together, pushing you past every limit you thought you had. The intensity is almost cruel, and they’re relentless in their control over you, taking their pleasure while you give in to theirs.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they both cum, filling you up with their warmth. But even then, they don’t let up. Yunho pulls the vibrator away, but only for a second, making you shudder at the sudden absence before he presses it back, causing another wave of pleasure to pulse through you.

After everything, the room is thick with the weight of what just happened. Your body feels heavy, spent from the overwhelming pleasure. They both stay still for a moment, allowing the warmth of their thick cum to settle deep inside you. You can feel the mess, but neither one of them makes you move just yet.

Yunho pulls out first, his release dripping from you onto the mattress beneath. Mingi watches closely, his gaze dark with satisfaction. The moment is quiet, but the tension in the air is palpable.

“Look at you,” Mingi says softly, a slight smirk on his lips. His hands move to your thighs, gently soothing the tense muscles, his fingers gliding over your skin in slow, comforting strokes. “You did so well, baby.”

Yunho leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips soft against your skin. His hand brushes away the stray strands of hair clinging to your face. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice low, soft, and full of praise. “You handled us better than we expected.”

They give you a moment to breathe, their hands gentle against your skin. Yunho slowly reaches for the blindfold, carefully pulling it from your eyes. As the fabric slides away, you blink against the light, your gaze meeting theirs. Your eyes are still teary, and they drink in the sight of you—exhausted, yet somehow still aroused.

Mingi leans in, his fingers softly tracing the outline of your jaw. “How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with concern despite the teasing edge. He’s still watching you carefully, his fingers gentle as they rub the tender skin of your inner thighs. “We didn’t go too far, did we?”

Yunho smiles at the sight of you, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Good girl,” he says, his words soft but full of meaning. “You’re so beautiful when you’re completely ours.. completely for our own use.”

They both stay close, offering tender aftercare, letting the intensity of the moment fade as they care for you. Their hands, their words, their presence—everything about them is gentle, grounding you after the storm.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[bnanamlkluvr]

Masterlist - Inception

Excerpt: “I want to know why you do it.”

“Why I do what.” he asked stripping off his overcoat.

He flung it over the back of the couch without much thought as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Why you always save me. Every time I’m in trouble you always come to my rescue.” I blushed as he kept undoing buttons and turned away as he slowly revealed his chest.

“Should I not?” He asked in a bored tone.

“That’s not what I- I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful I just want to know why.”

I spun around to face him again during my apology and was unable to take my eyes away from him as he peeled his shirt off himself. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and my eyes roamed his chest appreciatively. He looked gorgeous standing in nothing but his low cut leather pants and combat boots. I hadn’t thought much about men before, but spending most of my time around the eight of them seemed to wreak havoc on my thoughts and emotions as I couldn’t help but think about them. As my eyes drifted lower, I noticed a thick scar course from the left side of his abdomen, across his hip and down before disappearing beneath his waistline.

Realizing I was staring, I blinked a couple of times and cleared my throat before looking up again. His dark eyes were already looking at me. The black depths burning holes through my skin.

“You’re important to them.”

His reasoning made my heart ache. Although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, his response wasn’t what I wanted to hear. As he turned to head to the bathroom, my next words stopped him in his tracks.

“What about you?”

He stood there with his back turned to me. His shoulders were tense and the room was especially quiet apart from my nervous breathing. Minutes passed, but it felt like hours before he finally turned, casting his beautifully dark gaze on me again.

“Am I important to you?”

Our eyes never wavered from each other. The intensity in his wouldn’t let me look away even though I wanted to crawl in a hole with how weak I sounded begging to know his feelings. His heavy bootsteps echoed in the silent room as he stalked towards me. Warning bells went off in the back of my mind reminding me that he was very much a predator. A predator that had his prey in sight. He didn’t stop until he stood toe to toe with me. His bare chest brushing against my clothed one. He was calm as usual. Opposite of myself that had begun trembling beneath his stare.

His hand slowly came up to cup my cheek. His eyes dropped down to my lips as his thumb lazily drug across them. I held my breath waiting to see where this would go. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine as he closed his eyes. His hand traveled from my cheek to my hair threading his fingers through the strands before releasing a heavy sigh and opening his eyes again, scorching me with the fire behind them.

“There are feelings for you that I wish I didn’t have.”

Ateez Ot8 x Reader

⚠️: Mature themes. 18+ recommended.

Status: Ongoing

Drabbles Masterlist

Chapter 1 👇

Chapter 2 ● Chapter 3 ● Chapter 4 ●

Chapter 5 ● Chapter 6 ● Chapter 7 ●

Chapter 8 ● Chapter 9 ● Chapter 10 ●

Chapter 11 ● Chapter 12 ● Chapter 13 ●

Chapter 14 ● Chapter 15 ● Chapter 16 ●

Chapter 17 ● Chapter 18 ● Chapter 19 ●

Chapter 20 ● Chapter 21 ● Chapter 22 ●

Chapter 23 ● Chapter 24 ● Chapter 25 ●

Chapter 26 ● Chapter 27 ● Chapter 28 ●

Chapter 29 ● Chapter 30 ● Chapter 31 ●

Chapter 32 ● Chapter 33 ● Chapter 34 ●

Chapter 35 ● Chapter 36 ● Chapter 37 ●

Chapter 38 ● Chapter 39 ● Chapter 40 ●

Chapter 41 ● Chapter 42 ● Chapter 43 ●

Chapter 44 ● Chapter 45 ● Chapter 46 ●

Bonus Chapters~

Chapter 47 ● Chapter 48 ● Chapter 49 ●

Chapter 50 ●

Thanksgiving Special (M)

Mingi's Coronation (Suggestive)

Inception is an original work written by remedyx. Unauthorized use or reposting of this story on any other platform besides Tumblr, Ao3, and Wattpad not under the username (remedyx or Remedy_X) is plagiarism and will not be tolerated.

[bnanamlkluvr]

doll

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬. 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥. 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader insert 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: jeong yunho has a secret. it is locked away in his apartment, away from the dorm, away from his close friends, and away from his idol lifestyle. it waits for him every night, and sends him off every morning. and he just can't wait to end his day and get his hands on his pretty little doll.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: stockholm syndrome, captive!reader, kidnapper!yunho, manipulator!yunho, angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, degradation, manipulation, toxic relationship, touch deprivation, violence, light jumpscare(once), bondage, victim blaming, anger management issues, threats, blackmailing, petting, dry humping, dacryphilia, dumbification, praise, wax play, pet names, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: the reader isn't necessarily small or petite, yunho is simply that big and strong that compared to him she is written the way she is. :) not completely proofread!

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

yunho detests being away for a long time. more than that, he loathes having to keep making up excuses and lying to his close friends just to go to his own apartment. the time digits on his phone screen do not change fast enough, and soon the man finds himself gnawing the inside of his cheek and thinking whether or not to tap on his most used texting app. he sits in his makeup chair, giving the makeup artist a hard time as his fingers itch to type a message to a certain someone.

"yunho, please stay still. i'll be done faster if you let me work." the woman begs. he sighs, and finally puts the phone in his pocket. at least tries to, before a notification stops him.

doll: yunnie doll: i miss you yunnie :( doll: [file attached]

yunho lowers the brightness of his phone screen, then the volume just in case. his fingers then eagerly tap on the file, and his eyes are met with a sight he will never get tired of seeing: a picture of your face, eyes glossy with tears, cheeks flushed, and lips a pretty pink shade, just how he likes it.

doll: be home soon, pretty please?

yunho: what did i say about being needy and impatient? i'll be there when i get there. behave.

doll: i will. i'm sorry.

he knows that he has worsened the situation. that your bottom lip is probably quivering right now, and fresh tears are threatening to spill down your rosy cheeks. and he doesn't hate it. he only hates that he isn't there to see it. satisfied with your lack of replies, he finally sets his phone aside and allows the artist to finish her job.

when yunho arrives at the apartment, he makes sure to turn the key slowly when unlocking the door. he doesn't turn any lights on, simply putting his jacket on the well memorised spot near the entrance and proceeding into the living room. the window is open, but yunho does not worry. you know better than that.

the place is spotless, which means that you really wished to catch him in a good mood today. and he likes when you work hard for him, cleaning his apartment, cooking for him, ironing his clothes. when he is happy, you are happy. and when you are happy, yunho has hit the jackpot.

in the corner of his eye, he notices a sketch pad and a few pencils neatly set on the corner of the window where you loved to sit. the absence of light meant only one thing; you were fast asleep. you probably tired yourself from crying, then tucked yourself in like usual.

the man's polished shoes lightly click against the spotless parquet floor, legs carrying him to the window where he has bought and installed a hanging chair for you. you loved to sink into the fluffy pillows under the blanket, big eyes looking outside where you know you are not allowed to go. but not once did you whine about it, instead thanking him for allowing you to look. he takes the sketch pad, slender fingers tracing the faint pencil lines on the white paper.

it is his face, from today's live they held before their comeback. when you texted him, you really did miss him. so much that you turned on the big tv which you never usually touch without him, turned on the youtube live and made multiple sketches of his face. you had even sneakily put a few hearts around his head, and a small one on his nose. at the bottom of each paper, your pretty handwriting; my yunnie.

he notices that the pencils are getting smaller from being used and sharpened much more lately. he will get you new ones as soon as possible, just so you don't stop and fall in a slump again. he loves when you do things that make you happy.

instead of going to the bedroom next, he proceeds into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whisky and for you – a glass of peach iced tea with four ice cubes. you love it when he brings it for you. even though he has bought packages and packages of the product, and you can drink it whenever yourself, it always tastes the sweetest when he brings it to you.

and he does, quietly setting it on the nightstand and taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage. he sets the short glass right next to your tall one with cherry blossom prints, before finally sitting on the bed.

your figure is half covered by the fluffy blanket he has brought you as a present from one of his tours. you had used it every day and night since, going as far as being whiny while it washed and dried. yunho didn't understand your love and attachment to an item like that, until you confessed one night, halfway asleep and a blubbering mess.

"you bought it for me. it means that you saw it and thought of me before doing that. you remembered me, yunnie."

and since then, yunho always looked for presents to bring you. but he was always rushed, and ended up buying you a lousy souvenir or a chocolate from the duty free shops. he promised himself to get you something even if it meant being late for his schedule next time.

the moonlight peeks through the blinds, illuminating your still flushed cheeks and smeared mascara. your tied up hands are hidden under the pillow where your head rests. softly, yunho pulls them from under it, fingers carefully undoing the knots he made himself. the knots which he crafted himself are thoughtfully put together and pretty against your skin. he was generous enough to let you pick the colour of the ropes, and your answer was always the same: lavender.

once your hands are free, yunho brings your wrists to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to each one before turning his attention to your resting face. his fingers itch to caress you, to touch you, but he doesn't wish to disturb your peace.

he doesn't have to, because his scent envelops you, and before he can react, your nose moves like a bunny's one and your eyes open. he can't help the smile that spreads on his lips when he sees your excited expression, just before you throw yourself on him and try to wrap your arms around his shoulders and back. but he is big, much bigger than you, so you decide that wrapping them around his neck is good enough.

"you came." you exhale into his ear.

"don't i always?" yunho has to peel you away from him, and you whine as a protest. but the way his lips lose the playful curve and his eyes become serious make you bite your tongue as a punishment. regret washes over your features, and yunho is quick to grab your chin with his hand, pressing his thumb on your bottom lip. "be good." he warns.

"yes, sir."

and it's all it takes for yunho to soften again, taking you in his arms and standing up. "take the juice for me."

with one hand you hold onto his neck, making it easier for him to carry you, and with the other grab the glass of iced tea from the nightstand. as if it's hard for him to carry you; he is so strong you must be light as a feather to him. without questioning him, you relax in his hands, until you feel him sit and set you on his lap. a blanket is placed over your bare legs, enough to keep you warm as you sit in the hanging chair next to the window. the man takes the juice from your hand, setting it on the window next to the sketch pad. he doesn't ask about it yet, not wanting to pry unless you tell him yourself. he is happy you've returned to your little hobby.

"are you cold?" he asks, cupping your cheeks and then hands to check the warmth. when you shake your head, he presses a kiss to your forehead, lips a plush cloud against your skin. "my pretty girl."

you only smile as a response, still recovering from your sleep.

"you've been busy today." he notices the rearranged watch collection on the shelf below the television. the plants are refreshed, the once sagged leaves now proudly sticking up. "tell me about your day, bunny."

it wasn't unusual for yunho to sit you in his lap and ask about your day. in fact, it was your favourite part of the day. the way he listens and looks at you with his pretty eyes, nodding along to your never-ending sentences, and those unfinished ones that get interrupted with a fresh thought that you will forget if you don't say it immediately, scolding you and playfully pinching your thigh when you stop yourself mid talking and apologize for being annoying. yet lately, yunho doesn't come as often. what was once an every day routine was now a once a week occurrence. even then, he'd come and check on you, laid with you until you fell asleep, then sneaked off and disappeared into the night.

you hated it. you felt stupid, and lied to. he'd convince you that he left just before you woke up, that he stayed the whole night. but he didn't know that you felt his absence the moment he stood up from the bed. there wasn't much you could do anyway. as if he would listen. yunho is as stubborn as he is handsome. insanely.

"i vacuumed, mopped, cleaned out the fridge and threw out the expired products, put on fresh bedsheets, swept the balcony, watered the plants, rearranged your watch and game collection." you listed, head resting in the crook of his neck and eyes fixed on the ceiling. then, you stopped. and so did yunho's soothing circles on your thigh as he held your body close to his. you swallow, thinking of ways to continue before he can sense the shift in your behaviour. "i turned the tv on, watched you. you were very handsome today, yunho."

yunho hums, and for a moment, you relax and almost sigh with relief. the hand that doesn't hold you cups your cheek, pulling your head away from the crook of his neck and resting it on his shoulder so he can look at you. "who was at the door?"

your blood runs cold in your veins. yunho knows you like the back of his hand, and the flaw is in you for not knowing it well by now. you swallow slowly, eyes still locked with his dark ones, not daring to look away. "a man." you know better than to lie.

"what did he look like?" he presses, tone still calm. and it sends shivers down your spine. it is like the calm before the storm.

"i didn't see. i promised i'd never look."

"then how do you know it was a man?" the dark haired man tilts his head, raising his eyebrow.

before answering, your remind yourself that you are telling the truth, and that you should be calm. "he yelled your name."

"and what did my little doll do?" his hand drops from your cheek to your neck, slender fingers lightly grazing the skin just under your jaw before they completely wrap around the neck. the touch is gentle and soothing.

"i ran to the bedroom and hid under the covers. i was quiet, i promise." you are quick to offer him your pinky as a proof. but he simply shakes his head, then presses his lips to your temple.

"good girl."

the grip on your neck goes from light and loose to tight, growing stronger with yunho pressing the sides of it and making you look at him with confusion. "what-?"

your eyes widen as his grip intensifies, ridding you of oxygen slowly and already making you gasp for air. "if..." he starts, face close to yours. so close that his warm breath washes over your paling face, and lips barely brush against yours. "...you ever open the door, or even look through the window while somebody is there... you hear me?" his voice is a mere whisper against your mouth. you nod frantically, hoping that he releases you if you showed obedience. "yeah? i'll kill you."

"ye-es..." you choke out, tears spilling down your cheeks. small hands wrapping around his big one in hopes of stopping him, but to no avail.

"i didn't catch that." he presses further. "do you understand? if you ever think of getting out of here, or even manage to escape somehow, i will hunt you down and kill you."

you stop fighting back, instead opting for nods and silent tears. "i understand."

"if i can't have you..." he takes a look at your squirming and crying state one more time, then finally releases you. "...no one can."

a sob leaves your lips, and your hands are quick to reach your mouth, hoping that he didn't hear or at least sees your remorse.

but yunho doesn't say anything. instead, he pulls you close to him, his clothed body warming up your half naked one. "it's okay." he coos. "it's over."

"was i good?" you dare ask. you need to know that you didn't ruin what you built with him. that he didn't lose his trust in you. that he won't leave you alone for a month again in this place.

"you were perfect."

and that's all you need to hear to be calm. the peach juice waters down on the window as yunho lightly swings the hanging chair, lulling you to sleep with his voice and kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

the next time you open your eyes, you are angry and throw a tantrum. the sheets are on the floor, as well as pillows, and if yunho found you acting this way, he wouldn't be very pleased. but you are getting tired of him putting you to sleep and sneaking off. the mornings where you woke up next to him are long gone. your heart aches for those days.

there is only so much mess you can make with your wrists tied, so you give up on letting your frustration out on the faultless objects. with the fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you make your way to the living room and slump against the cushions on the couch. only after sitting up straight do you notice a small paper bag and a fresh glass of peach iced tea. the pink cursive writing on the bag makes your eyes almost sparkle from joy. it's been a while since yunho has brought you something from the bakery you absolutely adored.

you don't bother with keeping the bag, instead ripping it in half and using it as a plate for the sweet treat. two eclairs: a pink one and a green one. raspberry and pistachio, just how you used to eat in the mornings with him. he'd get the pistachio for himself, and raspberry for you. and you always wanted a bite of his, and then regretted your raspberry one because his tasted better. and he was always happy to exchange it with you.

not once did he complain about you always ordering the same and regretting it. not once did he refuse to let you have a bite. not once did he say no when you wanted to switch with him. not once did he bring two pistachio eclairs. and you might've become spoiled because of things like that, and even though both of you knew it, none of you said anything about it, because you were both equally guilty. you for pushing him, and him for indulging.

but it worked. it always did. that's why you aren't sure why yunho has suddenly distanced yourself from him. you're trying to be good for him, take care of yourself for him, even go as far as leaving windows open as a sign that you could run away if you wanted to, but you won't. at least that's what you liked to think. deep down you knew that yunho would find you even if you dug yourself a grave and hid under a fake tombstone. he'd find you, and then... you don't want to think about it.

but you have no reason to run. he takes care of you. you are his little doll, and your only task is to be pretty and obedient. but lately, you only have to do that two or three times a month. the rest of the days you die of boredom, cleaning the place, rearranging the fridge, turning the furniture around so that the place looks different and fresh. you are running out of ideas.

now, as you flip through the channels on the television, you are working up the courage to tell him how bored you are. maybe ask for netflix or disney. you are tired of watching the same youtube content over and over again. you can feel your brain rotting as you try to keep up with the recent famous youtubers. a movie would've been more educational at least.

as you eat the pink eclair, you scroll on the phone yunho has gifted you recently, with a promise of you not texting or calling anyone else but him. he can track your activity, and has limited your access to certain sites and apps, which leaves you with a few games that don't require network and a music app. it helped with your boredom, but nothing will ever be as interesting as having him around.

your fingers work faster than your brain, and you end up entering the one and only conversation on the screen.

doll: you left :(

it was always schrödinger's cat with him. he will either get mad at you - like yesterday - or indulge in your whiny and pouty behaviour as he secretly enjoys it. the one way to find out is by opening the box - text him.

yunho: my schedule is packed, sweetheart. you know that.

doll: when will i be a part of your schedule?

yunho: don't push it

doll: but i miss you so much

doll: can i please please please call you? pretty please? just for a minute?

on the other side of the screen, at the other end of the city, yunho sighs. it seems you've become more impatient and needy lately, and he knows he is at fault. you wait for him all dolled up, only to fall asleep because he always arrives so late. then, you talk for a while, and he lulls you to sleep before he has to run back to his dorm.

he taps on the phone icon in the corner of the screen after checking whether anyone is paying attention to him in the dressing room. he is the last in line to get dressed, which gives him more than a minute that you asked for so nicely. he can't say no to you. not when he misses you too. but he'd never say it to you out loud.

you pick up after the first ring, and yunho can almost hear the wide smile as you greet him. "yunnie!"

"hi, sweetheart." his heart swells at your still raspy voice. you must've just woken up. "did you have breakfast yet?"

"i only ate the raspberry one."

"oh you naughty little-" yunho purses his lips. "so the pistachio is only good if it's taken away from me, huh?"

"maybe. i took a bite. it's really not as sweet as when i steal it from you." you playfully reply. "but, yunnie..."

"hmm?"

"i actually wanted to ask you something."

"ask away doll. what can i do for you?"

"next time you come over..." you hesitate before continuing. "would you bring me a book or something? pretty please? i get bored when you're not around."

"oh." yunho says, surprised at the odd request. he didn't know what he was expecting. perhaps that you'd ask him if he'd untie you. or something that he surely wouldn't allow. but he forgot how perfect and loyal you are to him, and how much he has lowered your standards. "of course. anything specific?"

"not really. you pick!" you are so happy that you'll get a book that you don't even care which one it is. "no scary ones, please."

the dark haired man chuckles into the phone. in the corner of his eye, he notices the group leader eyeing him as he gets dressed. yunho's smile drops, and he is forced to end the conversation. "i'll see you soon. don't go late to bed tonight. you need your beauty sleep."

"oh. leaving already?" he hears you pout. he'd give anything to playfully tug your bottom lip right now. "alrighty then. i'll go back to missing you until you come again. which is, what, in a week?"

"be good for me." he orders sternly. "no sassing me. and no tantrums."

"no tantrums."

"and no sassing."

"and no sassing, blah blah."

"dollie. i'm serious." he turns around so that his back faces hongjoong. the older man has taken a great interest in yunho's conversation. "be a good bunny for me."

"yes, yunho."

"good."

just before he lowers his phone to hang up, he hears your faint voice. a mere whisper, which he wasn't supposed to hear. but he did. "i love you, yunnie."

and it fucking shatters him and ruins him inside out.

"dumb little doll." he sighs, looking at the wallpaper of the chat of you dressed in his favourite outfit with two pretty ribbons attached to your hair.

jeong yunho didn't expect his schedule to end so early. tomorrow is monday - his day off. technically, his time off starts now, as he steps into the library at the great city mall. and he makes the most of it. a basket securely hangs from his hand, already halfway filled with books with eye-catching covers and interesting plot summaries on the back. you'll love these, no doubt. and even if you don't, yunho won't hesitate to come back and buy more.

he forgot how dull it is for you to stay in that apartment all day and all night. the least he can do is help you find another hobby while he is not there with you. though, he is working on being less absent. but no matter how much he tries, his work schedule seems to track his brain, because they love swamping him with new interviews and variety shows every time he even thinks of having time off. this time he will be careful not to complain much around the staff about his free time.

at the same time as him, someone reaches for the last book he had his eyes on. it was this month's bestseller, all over tiktok, and he needed to buy it. but so did the person next to him, because they held onto it and weren't planning on letting go any time soon. yunho sighs. he truly isn't in the mood for this right now.

just as he gets ready to scold the person, he notices that it is a woman. a young one. a pretty one. so instead of angry words he was ready to spew, yunho simply smiles. "hi."

"hello," she greets back. "my, you've got good taste."

both of them glance at the basket in his hand. the basket that is meant for you. yunho's smile quickly fades, replaced by a serious face and confusing the woman in the process. "it's for my girlfriend."

"oh." disappointment is evident in her voice. she lets go of the book, then opts to look at the shelves instead of the man so she can hide her frown. "well, she'll be very happy with that book."

"she will." yunho smiles to himself, imagining your excited face as you go through the books.

"you must love her very much. that is a lot of money in that basket-"

"that is none of your concern." his brows are furrowed when he looks at the blonde woman. what is it with love talk today?

"oh. you don't love your girlfriend?" she is confused once again.

her confusion is then replaced by fear, caused by yunho who grabs her by the neck and slams her against the shelves. "take your little book and mind your own fucking business. got it?"

he shoves the book into her hands. the woman nods frantically, eyes glossy with tears and hands shaking as they hold the book. finally, yunho lets go of her. the book is dropped on the ground, and she bolts for the door. only then does yunho realize what he has done. but there is nothing he can do about it. thankfully, he wears his mask. he gets to keep his job another day.

yunho spends more time at the mall than he intended. three hours later, he is finally putting the key in the lock and entering his apartment. you jump at the familiar sound, and he hears your footsteps all the way from the bedroom. he sets the bags on the floor just in time to catch you into a hug.

"hi, doll." he coos. you only hum in response, burying your head into the crook of his neck and inhaling the faint traces of his perfume. he smells of vanilla and musk, with a hint of sweat. and you love every bit of it. nuzzling your nose against the sensitive area on the neck right under his ear, you can't help but sigh with content. yunho chuckles, before lightly squeezing your sides as a sign to let go of him.

you do so, without whines or tantrums this time. he wasn't supposed to come for another week, and he has graced you with the sudden visit. and you will make sure he doesn't regret it.

"i want you to go to the bathroom and freshen up while i prepare something." he orders with a kiss to your forehead.

"yes, yunnie." you obey, already on your way to the bathroom.

it doesn't take you more than ten minutes to take a quick body shower, put on a new comfy sleep dress, and put your hair in a hair clip how he likes it. you almost skip through the hallway, the cold autumn air chasing your bare legs until you reach the bedroom where yunho hides. but when you open the door, he isn't there. only a few paper bags on the bed, and a box with a bow on top and small holes poked on the sides.

not sure if you can touch without him, you opt for sitting on the bed and waiting patiently for him. while he is gone, you glance at your chipped nail polish. you should've asked him for polish remover instead. you accidentally spilled it when you foolishly tried to multitask by watching television and painting your nails. does yunho notice things like that? will he say anything about it? what if you just paint over it? will it look bad?

your thinking is interrupted by the tall man entering the bedroom, with two glasses in his hands. one with whisky, and one in similar colour to it. you know it's your iced tea; its sweet scent envelops the room as soon as he sets it on the nightstand.

"my patient doll." he praises with a kiss to your head. his fingers find their spot under your chin, raising your head so that you look up at him. his other hand reaches for your hair that you have neatly pulled back into the hair clip. with a single motion, his finger hooks into a few strands of it, setting them free from the clip and letting them frame your face. "so pretty."

if you could physically melt on the bed right there and then, you would. the way yunho looks at you makes your brain mushy, and your legs weak. after all this time, he still has that effect on you.

"i got you something." he motions for you to stand up, then sits down and pulls you into his lap. your back rests against his chest as his does against the bed frame. you sit cross-legged, making space for the bags so you can reach them easier. he takes the box first, pulling it between his legs that hold you securely and in front of you. "go on, open it."

all the hesitation is gone as soon as he gives the green light. the bow is shoved aside, and so is the lid. a gasp leaves your mouth at the sight.

two light brown ears perk up at the newfound light, and soon enough, a snout peeks out of the box. it sniffs, and sniffs, until it gets the courage to climb out of the box and flips it over, trapping itself under it. yunho removes the box and throws it on the floor, causing both the animal and you to jolt lightly. then, he takes the almost hand sized rabbit in his hand, holding it for you to take.

"it's a rabbit."

"yes, love. it's a rabbit." he confirms.

"it's so cute."

"i know." he kisses your cheek. "a bunny for a bunny. now you'll have a little companion when i'm away."

you carefully take it in your hands, testing the waters. it is pure fluff in your hands, as soft as yunho's hair after a shower. a little ball of fur with two big eyes and big floppy ears. and it is all yours.

"what will you name her?"

"dawn." you have your answer ready.

yunho laughs fondly. "dawn?"

"it's my favourite part of the day." yunho then remembers you telling him how much you prefer sunrises over sunsets. sunsets make you sad. they mark the end of the day. and you hate when things end. dawn brings a fresh day, and the sun is as pretty when it rises as it is when it sets. "thank you, yunho. i love it."

"don't thank me, love. you deserve more than that for being so obedient for me. now go through the rest of the presents. i'll keep your bunny safe while you do it."

"uh..." you look at your tied wrists.

he manages to untie the knot with a single hand, keeping the rope in it and playing with it while you start digging through the bags. with each book you pull out you let out a squeal of excitement. if it weren't for yunho, you would've stayed up all night reading.

but he had other plans once you finished exploring, taking your hand in his and pulling you back into his lap. the bunny is fast asleep on the pillow next to him, making you his main point of attention. the last book is still in your hands, fingers flipping through illustrated pages of the limited edition and eyes gawking at it. the smell of whisky fills your nostrils, and you look up and find him taking a sip.

"what does it taste like?" you wonder.

yunho doesn't answer. instead, he brings the glass to your mouth, pressing the edge against your lips. "small sip. a tiny one."

you listen, keeping your lips closed so that only a small amount of liquid can pass through. something about this is so intimate: him holding you in his lap as you wear your sleep dress, a book in your hands, making you drink from his glass, not breaking eye contact as you do so.

and yunho's view is to die for. you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, completely under his control and trusting him. your lips finally touch the whisky, and tongue barely peeks to taste it. you pull away, shutting your eyes and pursing your lips in disgust. "eugh."

yunho laughs, then downs the glass before putting it on the nightstand. "let's stick to your peach iced tea, hm?"

you nod in response. then, yunho finds the second light switch above the bed frame, turning it off. the moon is almost full, resting its silver rays on the bed and lighting up yunho's face. you'll never get over how insanely handsome he is. he is almost unreal. sometimes you even ask yourself whether he is a fruit of your imagination from staying alone for so long. no man you've met was this majestic: with hair as black as a raven, eyes dark and shiny as a starry night, porcelain skin, pretty nose with a little bridge where he rests his glasses, and oh, the prettiest pink lips. many times you've found yourself gazing upon his lips as he spoke or ate. and many times you wanted to close the distance as he held you on his lap while he read something or simply scrolled on his phone.

but you can't. yunho doesn't like being touched. at least that's what you gathered from the way he jumps when you try to remove a fallen eyelash from his cheek or straighten a sticking strand of hair. yunho gets very jumpy if you even hug him without warning. and you like to think that he is like that with everyone. that you aren't the issue.

but no matter how he behaves towards you, whether he is distant or can't keep his hands off you, he is still royally beautiful.

"thank you, love. you're not bad yourself."

blush creeps up your cheeks. you didn't mean to say it out loud. but yunho doesn't mind, and instead pulls a cover over both of you and sets the book aside. your legs are cold against his warm ones, still clothed. "won't you change?"

"i'm too lazy." he admits.

"can i change you?" you offer, sitting up and leaning on your elbows.

yunho smiles, eyes still closed. "i'd like to see you try."

in no time, you find his dark blue silk pajamas. that's the easy part. the hard part is yet to come. yunho is strong, and heavy. and big. blush warms up your cheeks once again as your hands find the hem of his turtleneck. he looks dashing in the tight turtlenecks and slacks. but right now, you'd rather see him comfortable. he deserves it after all the hard work.

he only helps you by raising his hands and head in the air just enough for you to pull the top off. you drink in the sight of his muscles, while his torso is covered by an undershirt. you pull the pajama top over his head, then his arms, and finally fix the collar. your eyes then fall on his belt. swallowing thickly, your fingers unbuckle it, and it causes yunho to grab your hands and stop you.

"i'll do it."

"what? why?" you're disappointed.

"i'll do it faster. i'm getting pretty sleepy, we should go to bed."

no amount of pouting convinces him to let you continue. he is out of his slacks and into the pajama bottoms in no time, giving you no time to sulk on the bed. he scoops you in his arms, throwing the fuzzy blanket over both of you.

"good night, bunny."

"whatever." you mumble into his chest.

the hand that rests on your lower back sinks to your bottom, pinching it lightly. you squeal, jolting away from his hand and further into his body. "behave."

"sorry." your voice is a mumble again. "yunnie?"

"go to sleep."

"but yunho." you whine, fingers playing with the buttons of his top.

he sighs. "yes?"

"what am i to you?"

that yunho cannot answer. simply because he has worked so hard on the relationship you two have. if he tells you, he might ruin the illusion. and you might remember. you might remember that it is not normal to be tied up and locked in a stranger's apartment. after all, you don't know the true him. that makes him a stranger to you. he has ridden you of any desire you had to escape, and instead made you depended on him. he has destroyed you, scared you so bad to the point that you started seeing a friend in him. he doesn't know whether you woke up one day and accepted your fate and decided to play along with his sick and twisted games of emotions and obsession, or simply had a switch in your brain click and made you the way you are right now. a loyal and obedient little pet for him to gawk at, dress up however he wishes, and keep locked away where nobody can find it.

he knows it's not normal. he knows his sins. and he knows that behind the loving eyes you give him that there is hate pushed down so deep, scared to make an appearance. he has pushed it there with his own actions. he also knows that just because he recognizes his flaws doesn't make him less guilty. moreover, it makes him even more evil. he knows, yet he doesn't stop.

he wishes he can, really. he wishes he can untie you, let you go, live a normal life, find a girlfriend, stop sneaking out of his dorm at late hours and return at early ones. hell, he could've asked you out on a date instead of putting his hand over your pretty mouth behind the concert stadium and drag you into his car. but then everybody would see you. somebody might even want to take you away from him. and yunho can't allow that. you are his to see, his to touch and his to keep.

you belong to him, heart and soul.

"does it matter?" his voice comes out as annoyed, but it doesn't affect you.

"a little." you admit. "you don't kiss me, but you give me affection other ways. what does that make us?"

it makes you my prisoner, and me your captor. you just don't know it yet. or maybe you've grown blind to it. maybe i've broken your perception of how things actually are. maybe i've convinced you that this all is normal.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have asked." you notice how tense he is under your touch. "good night."

but yunho doesn't want to leave you without an answer. he kisses your temple, then your cheek, and finally, your ear. his lips stay there, brushing against the sensitive ear shell as his warm breath tickles you. "you're mine. that's all that matters."

"are you mine?" you ask.

yunho sighs, pulling you closer to him and completely wrapping his arms around your shivering body. "good night, doll."

you wake up in a cold and empty bed again. excluding the curled up rabbit next to you.

and you are furious.

blinded by rage, you reach for your phone, not even noticing that your hands are still untied. usually he'd tie them up while you are halfway asleep or completely asleep as to not disturb you. before you can press the call button next to his name, the bathroom door opens, revealing the man you were about to scold. he has discarded his sleep top, leaving him only in bottoms and a sleeveless undershirt.

"thought i heard you wake up." he smiles. "come, let's get you ready for the day. i let you sleep in enough."

the phone is forgotten in the blanket, and your legs carry you into the bathroom. he has a toothbrush in his mouth, and his hair is a fluffy mess. you love when he looks this soft. he is less intimidating. not that you are scared of your yunho. he wouldn't hurt you. only if you give him a reason to.

noticing your bare feet on the cold tiles, the man picks you up and places you on the counter near the sink. he hands you your own toothbrush after he squirts the paste on it. comfortable silence swallows the small bathroom, the only sounds being the teeth brushing and yunho's light humming to a song as he stands between your legs that hang from the counter, swinging along with yunho's song. his hand rests comfortably on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the exposed skin below the dress.

you've noticed he loves your thighs. to touch them, to pinch them and caress them. and you don't mind. in fact, you love that he can't get his hands off you. it makes you feel attractive. you hope you are attractive to him. sometimes it doesn't feel like that. you look at him with loving eyes, and he... he looks at you like you're his most prized possession. you're just an eye candy. a doll he comes to play with and dress her up just to feast his eyes. perhaps the fault is in you. you don't attract him enough. it could be your appearance. you should switch from the comfy silk sleepwear he has gifted you in every colour so you can be comfortable around the house into something more appropriate and mature. or maybe it was your behaviour. you are so depended on him that you often end up feeling extremely childish.

yet he insists that he loves doing everything for you. he loves to see you in the pastels. he loves when you ask him for help. and he loves making you ask for help by closing the jars too tight, or putting the glasses on the top shelves where you can't reach even if you climb on a chair.

"hey." his finger playfully taps your nose, noticing you have stopped brushing. "where did you go?"

you shake your head, ridding your brain of the thoughts for a while. "sorry. were you saying something?"

"i said," he takes the toothbrush from your hand and continues brushing your teeth for you, holding your jaw in his palm and head in place, then continues talking, "we have a busy day ahead of us."

"sho... you're shtaying all day?" you mumble with foam in your mouth.

"i'm all yours today." he finishes brushing, then motions for you to spit in the sink. you do so, earning yourself a playful pat on the head. "good girl."

"you have a little stubble." you notice, fingers reaching to touch the short hairs on his face. it is not often that yunho lets you touch him like that, so when your hand cups his cheek, you are surprised when he simply looks at himself in the mirror with furrowed eyebrows. he doesn't remove your hand, and you savour every second of it.

"suppose i do. i should shave it off." the man runs both toothbrushes under the warm water, then sets them in the cup next to each other. his dark blue one with black bristles is a funny contrast to your lavender one with white bristles. it's like they resemble the two of you. maybe that's why he bought them. "want to help me?"

"help you?" you raise your eyebrow. he doesn't answer. instead, he hands you his razor, showing you how to properly hold it. while he smears the shaving foam on his face, you can't help but take secret glances at his exposed arms. he notices, then looks down at his undershirt.

"right, i should probably take this off." with one single motion, the fabric lands on the floor and he steps on it. you are left gawking at his bare torso. he doesn't usually undress in front of you. this is the first time you see his defined body. he looks absolutely dashing, and the sight makes your stomach feel fuzzy. you instinctively try to close your legs, but forget that he is standing right between them. "come closer."

you are now sitting on the edge of the counter, and if it weren't for yunho's hands holding your thighs and keeping your body steady, you would've kissed the cold tiles below his feet. he guides one of your hands to his face, then lets you figure it out on your own. you hesitate. "what if i cut you?"

"well... try not to, i guess." he shrugs. "i want to be pretty for you too. just as you do for me."

as gentle as possible, you swipe the razor over his cheek. it leaves a smooth trail behind, without any red lines or spots. little by little, your smooth faced yunho appears, and so does a smile on your lips. with one final swipe, you finish, not cutting him once in the process. "all done!"

"good job, bunny." he praises with a kiss to your forehead. "come on now, let's get you dressed. as i said, we have a busy day ahead of us."

when yunho said busy, you thought he meant cleaning the house or helping him with something. not standing in line at an amusement park with your hands untied. you haven't been outside in forever, if you exclude the balcony. today, yunho has decided to surprise you with a trip to an amusement park. he looks comfortable and fresh, wearing a simple black t-shirt with black ripped jeans, a leather jacket and sneakers. beside him, you are dressed up in his hoodie and his sweatpants, and his denim jacket. somehow, your clothes have been disappearing little by little, leaving you with only sleepwear. does it have anything to do with the fact that he likes to see you in the pastel sets he keeps bringing over instead of actual clothes? no, of course not.

yunho did make you promise him a few things before exiting the house:

no distancing yourself from him

no talking to other people

no looking at other people

no going anywhere without asking him first

no yelling each other's names

keep the sunglasses on your face

have your phone in your hand at all times in case anything happens and one of you needs to get a hold of each other.

and you happily agree. you wouldn't do the opposite even if he didn't make you promise all those things. yunho is all you have, and without him, you'd be overwhelmed and lose yourself. the place is enormous, everything shining bright into your eyes and looking the same. no wonder people get lost there all the time. or perhaps you're just used to the dark apartment that seems to be getting smaller and smaller each day you wake up.

"what would you like to do?" he asks once he shows the tickets at the entrance and guides you inside.

"me?" you are confused. "i- i don't know."

"we have two hours to have fun. we'll do whatever your heart desires."

"really?"

the eyes you give him as you look at him all excited is the reason yunho has you all to himself. those same eyes that have looked at him from the first row at the concert, and he could not look away. you smiled so bright at him when he gave you attention, and when he saw you outside of the stadium, he knew he had very little time. and he knew he had to take you for himself. you were so sweet, and so pretty. simple things excite you, and the sight of you almost beaming is what warms yunho's heart. then, he starts to think that he might've made a mistake by bringing you here. someone could see you, and take you away from him.

no. he will not allow it. he'd rather kill you than let anyone else have you. and that's a promise he made to himself the first night he tied the pretty knots on your wrists.

"yunnie...?" your voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

"hm?" he brings his attention back to you. your eyes have lost the excited glint, and are now filled with worry. his sudden serious face must've scared you. "right. what did you want to do?"

"can i try that?" you point towards a stand.

yunho isn't surprised when he turns around to see big stuffed animals hanging from the stand, and multiple small ones arranged on the shelves against the wall behind the vendor. "do you want to play by yourself?"

"can i?"

"you may."

you roll your eyes at his correction. but before he can scold you for it, you squeeze his hand and drag him to the stand. the game seems simple enough: three balls to throw, and three pyramids of different objects to topple. yunho pays the vendor, then stands aside and lets you focus.

"go pink koala." you whisper, keeping the balls close to your chest. you don't miss yunho's chuckle from the side. "hush! i'm concentrating."

but no amount of concentrating got you the big stuffed koala. even yunho was getting irritated as time passed by. not with you, but with the vendor. "are you kidding me?"

you stop mid throw, eyes darting to the tall man in fear. you haven't done anything wrong. ...have you?

"you're telling me that those plastic cups didn't budge?" he approaches the counter.

the vendor shrugs. "are they down?"

"well, no-" yunho starts.

"oh so you aren't blind. just stupid."

oh no.

you can almost hear yunho's blood boil beside you. your hands instinctively wrap around his arm, hugging it to your body. "yunnie."

"step back." he orders.

and you do, letting go of him. to anyone looking, that would've seem mean and horrible. but you know why he told you to stay away. he doesn't want to hurt you.

"you're telling me," yunho takes a ball from your hand, "that this ball," he aims for the vendor, "didn't even budge those plastic cups?" and hits him right in the forehead.

when yunho is loud, you aren't as scared. it is when he is calm that you are terrified. and right now? he is as calm as the stuffed animals sitting on the shelves behind the man who holds his forehead. yunho crouches to the floor, enough to pick up a ball sized stone. he aims for the first pyramid of plastic cups, and throws with such strength that it manages to bring them down. he takes a second one and does the same with the glass bottles, breaking them and sending shards flying everywhere. the third rock hits the clay mug at the bottom of the pyramid, causing it to ruin the balance of the rest of them and fall to the ground with a crashing sound.

"okay, okay!" the short vendor is desperate. "take the fucking prize and leave my stand!"

"with pleasure." yunho smiles with satisfaction. you don't have time to look at him in awe because he picks you up on his back and approaches the hanging stuffed animals. "go on, angel. help yourself."

your hands know where to go, immediately grabbing the pink koala that is half your size. when yunho doesn't set you down, you look at with a raised eyebrow.

"that's all you want?"

"i can take more...?" your eyes dart between the terrified vendor and an amused yunho.

"we can take the vendor if you want."

you're not sure what is funnier:, yunho's laid back attitude or the vendor's face. in one thing you are sure: you are taking that big grey elephant.

if someone had told you yesterday that today you'd freely walk around outside with yunho by your side, both carrying a big stuffed animal that made every child passing by jealous, you'd say ha, i wish. if someone had told you that today you'd hold hands with yunho as you pass by various stands and he offers to buy you anything from it, you'd say ha, you're crazy. and if someone told you that after a rollercoaster and a haunted house yunho would take you to the ferris wheel and demand that the cabin isn't to be shared with anyone, you'd say ha, your imagination is wild.

yet here you are, sitting inside the cabin high on the ferris wheel, stuffed animals sat across from you and leaning against each other. yunho sits by your side, a cup of chocolate chip ice cream that you have picked just before getting in line in his hand. there was a no food allowed sign, but yunho would rather fight the teen boy in charge of checking tickets than see your disappointed face again when you read the sign. luckily, a single glare from yunho was enough to stop the boy mid sentence as he read it out loud.

"i can feed myself you know." you pout as he brings the plastic purple spoon to your mouth. he specifically asked for that colour.

"i know." he simply replies.

"then... may i?" you reach for the paper cup, but he pulls it away. "please?"

"why?" he brings the spoon to his mouth once it starts melting off it as to not stain your - his - clothes. you blush furiously, the thought of eating off the same spoon as him making your stomach fuzzy. "i like to pamper you. besides, dolls need maintaining."

"they also need to be played with more often." you cross your arms over your chest.

he doesn't respond, instead offering you another spoonful of ice cream. you are distracted by his piercing gaze, unable to look away. it leads to you almost missing the spoon, making most of the ice cream land on your lips rather than between them. and it's like something switches inside of him. his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, and his hands set the cup down.

"do you have a napkin? i'm a mess-" you start licking your lips. before you can wipe the rest with the sleeve of the hoodie, yunho stops you by grabbing your wrists with one hand and looking deeply into your eyes, just before pushing you down on the seats with his other one on your chest so that you are laying with him on top. "what- what are you doing?"

"stay still." his voice is a mere whisper, a warm breath against your face. you gulp, a little louder than you intended. but he doesn't laugh. his face doesn't change. it is dead serious, with his brown eyes becoming as dark as his raven hair. his pupils are so diluted that they give the illusion of turning black. and you're not sure whether it is good or bad in this situation. "dollie..."

you lay perfectly still. the wheel has stopped, letting the visitors enjoy the view and take pictures. yunho, however, couldn't care less. not when he has you pinned down below him, hair beautifully splayed out, cheeks pink with blush, and eyes shiny and curious. and that damn ice cream on your bottom lip. he closes his eyes, then leans his forehead against yours. his nose gently brushes against yours, sending shivers down your spine and almost making you shudder. that, along with the way his one hand effortlessly holds both your wrists pressed into the leather seats has you seeing stars.

"fuck," he sighs against your lips. "fuck, what are you doing to me?"

"did i do something wrong?" the question is genuine.

"no, no." he shakes his head. "no. you're perfect. you're gorgeous. you're everything a man could ever want. you're everything i want."

he pulls away for a split second, eyes roaming your face for any signs of discomfort. when he doesn't see any, he licks his lips, then gulps.

"you're making me weak." his voice is velvet in your ears, gentle and soothing. his free hand moves the loose strands of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek in the process and continuing the path to your jaw to cup it. "and you don't even know it."

his plush lips capture your bottom one between them, tongue swiping across it to lick the ice cream off. you shudder beneath him, body arching off the seats and finding comfort against his warm chest. his hand lets your wrists go, as well as your jaw, only to find their comfort on your waist. you've never done this. yet your hands seem to move so naturally towards his hair, fingers sneaking between the soft locks and gently massaging his scalp as he nibbles on your bottom lip. a rush of heat takes over your stomach and the space between your legs. the feeling so good and new, yet so empty. you need more of him. you crave him now more than ever.

when he pulls away, it is because he needs to catch his breath, and so do you. his lips have turned a darker shade, and are so inviting to touch. and you do so, allowing yourself a moment of braveness. digits reach for his plump lips, the touch so light that yunho's lashes flutter. he can't help the desire that takes over his body and mind, pinning you further against the seats with his body and squeezing your bare waist underneath the hoodie. "you're killing me."

"how?" you didn't mean for your voice to come out so... pathetically raspy. you clear your throat. "is that bad?"

yunho chuckles in between shallow breaths. "god, you're so precious."

his lips lock with yours once again, leaving small and gentle kisses on them. until your tongue shyly peeks out to try the waters and be smooth like him. and it sends him over the edge. it makes him sit up straight and pull your body with him so that you sit on his lap, legs spread and resting on each side of him. one of his hands snakes further underneath the hoodie and follows a trail up your spine, feeling up your bare skin that burns and shivers beneath his metal rings. yunho can't keep his hands to himself anymore. he kisses you deeply, with his tongue chasing yours and seeking for a taste of you.

you taste him too, enjoying the mix of the chocolate chip ice cream and him. and he tastes better than you've ever imagined. he is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more each time he pulls away to breathe. your body responds to him, seeking the warmth of his and aching to be held and touched. you are touch starved, and he is at fault. he might be able to redeem himself. especially when his lips take a detour from yours and continue down your jaw and to your neck. his hot tongue swipes down it, following an imaginary line and lightly grazing his teeth against your sensitive skin.

"yunnie..." you wish to call his name, but it comes out as a breathy moan. "please."

yunho pulls away, gulping once again. "what?" he breathes out.

"i- i don't know." you admit. "i need something. i need you."

"doll." he warns. "you can't say things like that."

subconsciously, your bottom lip sticks out in disappointment. you already know that he will playfully tug at it. except this time, he doesn't. he looks you with a gaze so intense that it makes you feel the smallest in the world. "sorry."

"love," the man sighs, regretting his tone. his hands cup your cheeks and bring your face close to his again, enough for him to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose. "i'd destroy you."

"what do you mean?" you should be scared. that can't mean any good, can it? just why are you squirming in his lap then, thighs aching to be pressed together and core burning up?

"oh, sweet little bunny." the realization hits him. you really are that sweet and innocent. "i just mean that..." he stops to think.

he won't be able to resist himself. and he doesn't want to hurt you. yes, he loves to see you cry. and yes, he has the twisted desire to see you split open on his cock as you cry and whine about how big he is, and how you can't fit him. to see pretty tears spilling down your cheeks as you enjoy the pain he inflicts on you, begging for more. he'd stop if you told him to, of course. he would never do anything to hurt you like that.

"you just mean that...?" you wake him up from his filthy fantasies.

his hands leave your body, only to rest on top of your hands which play with the zipper of his leather jacket. "i mean that you're not ready."

i just mean that i am not ready.

"you'll have to be a patient little doll. can you do that for me?" he tilts his head to properly look at you as your gaze is locked on his hands over yours. "angel?"

"yes."

"yes, what?"

"yes, yunnie."

"that's a good girl."

the wheel continues spinning, just when yunho gently removes you from himself and lets you sit on your own. all flushed and hair messy, you turn towards the windows, hoping to fix the situation while you pretend to look at the view and hide from his eyes. a click echoes in the cabin. then another, and another. you turn around to find yunho taking pictures of you from the opposite seats, a soft smile on his face as you try to hide into the hoodie.

"stop, i look horrible!"

"one more, come on." he approaches you, taking your jaw into his hand and making you look at him. he gets the perfect shot, your flushed face on full display, sitting so perfectly in his palm, with big eyes looking up at him. "perfect."

"my hair is a mess." you complain, hands struggling to fix the loose strands.

the dark haired man imitates your pout. "no pouting."

"i wasn't."

you jolt when his fingers tug on your bottom lip. he really loves doing that. "and no lying. you know how i feel about lying."

that you do. he hates lying more than anything. lies, white lies, being silent about things. it didn't matter. yunho hated it. your lips are too pretty to tell lies, he had told you once. truthfulness means a lot to him, and he appreciates it when it comes from you. "sorry."

seeing that he burst your bubble, he crouches in front of you, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips to leave a kiss on the back of each one. "i'll fix your hair when we get home. i promise."

the ride comes to an end, with yunho and you exiting last, each holding a stuffed animal. you walk beside yunho, content. you kissed him.

no, he kissed you.

yunho kissed you. it's everything you've ever desired for as long as you can remember. and it's better than you've imagined. his lips were indeed as soft as they looked, maybe even softer. his tongue a burning fire against yours, and hands molding your body like clay in his hold. you're feeling selfish, wishing for more. wishing that the wheel got stuck and left the two of you up there, continuing with the activity. as you look at his side profile - the one you can never get enough of looking at - you decide that you'll get more. you have to.

he has given you a taste, and you're already addicted.

"i need to use the restroom. sit here and wait for me." he places the stuffed elephant on a bench nearby, then the koala on the other end of it. he guides you so that you sit in between, occupying the bench and leaving no space for anyone else to sit. "i could just put you on my shelf and look at you all day long like this. stay here, got it?"

you're feeling foolish, having the whole bench to yourself. but what yunho says, you do. and you sit still, nodding your head playfully. "yes, sir!"

"i'll be right back. got your phone?"

"yes." you show it to him, secure in your hand.

"sunglasses?"

"on." you scrunch your nose, moving the sunglasses further up it.

"good. i'll be back in two minutes."

the feeling is strange. being outside, hands untied, a phone in your hand, and yunho not by your side. a light breeze caresses your hair, and the early setting autumn sun warms your face for one last time today. a once lost feeling creeps up on you, along with the fear of consequences. you've forgotten what it feels like. you've forgotten what free will is. you've forgotten what freedom is. and you haven't sought it for a very long time. and it haunts you, whispers in your ear, makes the hairs on your hands stand straight.

it lures you in.

it makes you stand up. take a step, then another. unsure at first, and a little wobbly. like you've forgotten how to walk without him. and then: you run.

you run through the crowd, around and behind the stands and tents, until your legs start to ache. you aren't used to this much cardio.

afraid that he might see you, you run into the nearest big tent. the entrance isn't the usual one, and you realize that somehow you've managed to sneak in through the exit. it takes a while for your eyes to get used to the dark. the place is poorly lit, with dark red lights illuminating the countless reflections that stare back at you. a mirror maze. out of all places you could've chosen.

you finally see your true form in the poorly lit mirror. hair a mess, face unrecognizable, wrists bruised. clothes that do not belong to you. and a pair of dark glimmering eyes that look at you from the shadows behind you.

"dollie."

how did he find you so quick? was he just testing you? testing your loyalty? did you even have a chance in running away? did you just let all that trust you built with him over the course of months or years fall into water?

but you won't let him catch you. and no amount of mirrors will stop you. you bolt for the exit, following the arrows on the floor that are upside down to you. you don't hear his footsteps behind you. perhaps it is your fear playing hallucinations on you. perhaps he is giving you a head start. or perhaps this tent was his plan too. for you to run in there, failing his test, and suffering consequences.

fear swallows you whole, causing your breathing to become shallow and fast, vision blurry, and legs and hands shaky. the faint red arrows aren't visible anymore, and you rely on putting your hands in front of you and touching your way out.

"i'm so disappointed with you, y/n."

no.

not the first name.

god, no. you can't do this again.

tears prickle your eyes, further blurring your vision. how could you have been so stupid? as if yunho is a fool. you've forgotten what he truly is. you've forgotten what you truly are. a prisoner, and its captor.

"i thought we were finally getting somewhere."

his voice is deeper than usual, echoing through the mirror maze. it makes you turn every few seconds, making sure that he isn't behind you, as if it wasn't enough to simply look at the mirrors in front of you. but your rising panic attack has your senses dull, and quickly you find yourself sobbing as you try to navigate through this torture labyrinth. every reflection is a punch to the gut, showing you your helpless frame and mocking you.

"you said you loved me."

he's close, then he isn't. you hear his footsteps, then you don't. and then, your eyes catch a glimpse of the tent's front opening up and closing. it's right there. just a few turns away. palms carelessly leave prints on the spotless mirror, and legs work hard to keeping your body up for just a little more. a few more turns. that's all you need to do.

a whiff of fresh air hits your face as you take a turn to the left, and you can smell the popcorn and cotton candy on the stands just outside the tent.

a hand is placed over your mouth, and another one around your waist, pulling you back harshly and colliding with another body. the feeling is all too familiar, repetitive even. nails desperately claw at his hands, but you know it's to no avail. you sob into his palm, tears streaming down your cheeks and continuing down his hand.

"you lied."

you are so stupid.

a light breeze caresses your cheeks. it is cold for your face, but your body seems to be warm and comfortable. even your hands. your eyelids peel open, and it takes a while to adjust to the dark. yunho's jacket covers your lap and hands, keeping you warm from the autumn breeze that enters through the rolled down window of his car.

yunho's jacket.

yunho's car.

yunho.

"no-" you gasp, jumping in the car seat.

yunho is quick to put a hand over your mouth. "hush. it's okay."

he doesn't keep it there long, removing it as fast as he touched you. he gives you time to look around and adjust to your surroundings. the first thing you notice is your hands, still untied, then, the street yunho is parked on. "what are we doing here?"

the man doesn't say anything. one of his elbows rests on his rolled down window, holding his head in his palm while his other hand plays with the lavender rope. you gulp, feeling the material on your wrists even though nothing is there. upon subconsciously rubbing your wrists, you notice that you don't wear his clothes anymore. you're wearing the clothes you thought were forever gone.

the concert outfit.

and the street? the street where you live. and your house at the end of it, the yellow trees preparing for winter and shedding their leaves.

"yunho...?"

he scoffs. "you never call me that."

you don't know what to say. you opt for silence, looking at your house in the distance and wondering why he has brought you here. then, you speak. "you kept my concert clothes."

"i kept all your things." yunho sighs, then reaches in the back seat to retrieve a backpack. the familiar scent of vanilla and whisky almost hugs you when he leans back to reach for it, his neck exposed and close to you. you ignore the tingling sensation in your stomach. "here."

he opens it for you, revealing all of your belongings, including your phone. it is smashed, and it doesn't turn on.

"i had to make sure nobody could find you." he confesses. "there's an envelope with money for the new one in the backpack."

"i don't understand..."

"you can go."

you can... go?

he is letting you go? willingly? your gulp almost echoes in the car. legs frozen, and mind a mess, you remain seated. yunho doesn't look at you. he keeps his gaze locked on a tree by the sidewalk, monitoring the swinging branches and falling leaves.

"don't make me change my mind."

it feels odd. unnatural. as if you'll wake up soon. the strange thing is that recently you haven't dreamt of running away from yunho. even now, as he is openly offering you freedom. your bottom is firmly planted on the seat.

"that's it? just like that?" you dare ask.

"yep." he still doesn't look at you.

"you don't have anything to say?" you push further.

"if you think i'm going to apologize, i am not." his eyes finally lock with yours. and it still makes your stomach flutter. "you should really go."

you are overwhelmed - no, overstimulated - by feelings and thoughts. you are angry, and sad. months or years of this odd relationship with him, being in an apartment and not stepping foot outside, locked away from the world, cut off from the social sites, completely at his mercy. eating what he offers you and wearing what he buys you. having contact with him only. trying not to go crazy when spending multiple days alone, sometimes a month too. all because you did something that he didn't like and he was punishing you for it.

and he drops you off at your house. simple as that.

hesitantly, your hand reaches for the door handle after unbuckling the seatbelt, only to find it locked. a sigh leaves yunho's lips, and within seconds, the windows are rolled up and the car starts. "dumb bunny."

"what?"

yunho steps on the gas pedal. his hands grip the wheel with such force that it turns his skin pale. the speed of the car and sudden turns make your body toss around in it. the seatbelt uselessly hangs on the side. "dumb." he takes another turn. "fucking." and joins the traffic on the highway. "bunny."

"i'm sorry!" you choke out, hands frantically holding onto anything you can reach. breathing becomes a challenge as your eyes follow the way he skillfully overtakes other cars, going way past the speed limit. "yunho! yunho, please!"

"i gave you a chance to prove your loyalty. to see if you regret using the chance and running away from me at the park. to prove that you love me, like you said it." he seethes. "and you reached for the handle."

"you offered!"

"doesn't mean you should've taken the offer!" he yells back. his voice is animalistic, deep as he almost growls the words and loud, sending shivers down your spine and coating your body in sweat. he glances at you, enough to make you start trembling. his eyes are pitch black under the lack of lights on the highway and dilated pupils from anger. "you're mine, you hear me? mine!"

"slow down," you sob, "please."

"i told you once, doll. if i can't have you..." he takes a sudden turn, exiting the highway and continuing into the forest that surrounds it. he avoids trees, driving between them and scaring the animals away, until he finally stops in front of the lake that is hidden among the greenery that is now swallowed by the dark of the night. "nobody can."

a blood curling scream leaves your lips as your eyes meet your doom. yunho drives the car into the lake at full speed.

he doesn't exit. he stays inside with you, calmly looking ahead of him as the front of the car slowly starts sinking. his seatbelt holds him in place, while you are left tilted along with the vehicle. trembling hands reach for the man. even in this moment, you reach for him.

"yunho..." your voice is a mere whisper. "yunho, please."

"nobody can have you."

"they won't." you assure him.

"nobody can have you."

"i'm all yours."

"nobody can have you."

"please don't kill me."

brown eyes finally look at you. his gaze softens at your flushed and wet face. he has control over the situation. you just don't have to know that. this is where he wants you: begging him to spare your life, making sure to let you know that he is the only one you have. that he is all you need. and that there is no escape other than death from that. he would rather drown with you than let anyone else have you.

"i want to live." you beg.

you can't help but feel comfort when his hands cup your face. ringed fingers brush your tear stained cheeks, and he can't help but lean in and press his lips to a fresh one that started its journey down your rosy skin. "you'll live. with me."

yunho leans his forehead against yours. his warm breath caresses your lips - a bittersweet refreshment of your memory. how can a man kiss so softly, but touch so roughly?

"tell me you're mine."

a sneaky glance helps you determine the current danger of the situation. you still have time to exit through the trunk. but it all depends on yunho. if he has decided to not let you go, nobody can help you with it. "i'm yours."

"good girl."

the familiar feeling of rope is back on your wrists. you'd be lying if you said that it didn't bring you comfort. the outside world seemed scary enough for you to embrace being locked in. yunho isn't the reason. he only did what he had to do to put some sense back into you.

the red rope is tied into a complex heart between your wrists, and yunho gives it a tug to tighten it and restrain you. "there. all done."

"it's pretty." you compliment. you don't ask why the rope is red. you know. you get the red one each time you do a foolish thing, so that every time you see it, you are reminded of how you let him down. "thank you, yunnie."

to your surprise, he loosens it, enough to slip it off your wrists and not undo the knot. he stands up from the bed, then gently removes the sleeping rabbit from your lap and sets it on the floor in the hallway near the cage and food, before coming back and offering you his hand to stand up. you are still soaking wet from the lake, with his hoodie hanging around your waist to warm your legs. you accept it, standing up and leaving a wet spot behind on the sheets.

"i'm sorry."

yunho only smiles, pressing a kiss to the hand he holds, and guides you to the bathroom. "don't worry about it."

you are surprised at the sight once your bare feet step on the cold bathroom tiles. the bathtub is filled with steaming water, and a few candles are lit around it. your hand is abandoned by his for a moment, just enough for him to shuffle through one of the drawers near the sink. a towel awaits for you, neatly folded on the stool near the tub. your hands untie the hoodie around your waist, letting it fall with a splat. little by little, the heavy wet pieces of clothes form a pile on the ground. by the time yunho turns around, you are left in only your underwear, body shivering from the midnight breeze that sneaks in through the tilted window. yunho stops in his tracks, eyes falling on your exposed skin that is illuminated by the soft orange light of the candles.

"uh," his gaze drops on two packages in his hands. you feel a boost of confidence storming through your veins. "i got you these bath bombs. which one would you like?"

"you pick." you shrug.

yunho looks still avoids you, turning his back towards you and approaching the tub. his hands unwrap the light pink one, dropping it in the water and helping it dissolve faster by making circular motions with his fingers on the surface. he doesn't stop until the clear liquid becomes a milky white with a pastel pink hue, with rose petals floating on the surface. "milk and rose. you'll like it."

to your disappointment, he passes by you without sparing you a glance. you can't help the hand that reaches for his, fingers intertwining and eyes that have proved themselves useful many times. he flinches, as usual. but he doesn't let go. "stay." the word comes out in a whisper.

"doll." he warns. "be good and-"

his eyes widen when you climb on your toes and rest your hands on his shoulder, lips lightly ghosting over his. you don't touch them yet. not when his hands grab your waist, and not when a sigh leaves his lips and caresses yours. only then do you finally press them against his. fingers are eager to play with his hair on his neck, and body leans against his chest to seek warmth and comfort. and the brown eyed man gives it to you, pulling you into him so that your cold skin can rest against his burning one. you can feel him, even though there is a layer of material separating you.

when your tongue peeks out to swipe over his bottom lip, yunho pulls away. you can't help the whine that leaves your lips. "you're going to be the death of me." he sighs.

"will you stay?"

"and do what?" he tilts his head playfully. "watch you enjoy your hot bath while i freeze?"

"you could join me-"

"no." he firmly says. and just like that, all you've done with the kiss has fallen into the water. his hands abandon your body, only to find your clip that he has put there himself once he helped you out of the lake. your hair is still damp, and it falls loose when he takes the butterfly clip off. it was his favourite one. "go."

"but yunnie..."

"bunny."

"you won't see me naked." you finally say.

one of the rules with yunho was that you are not to see each other naked. even now, with only your underwear on, you were pushing it. yunho made sure to let you know that he doesn't want such things with you. you only need to sit pretty for him and be obedient.

"please? you can turn around while i undress and turn back when i get into the tub."

"you still haven't answered my question. what will i do while you enjoy your little bath?" he turns around, letting you free yourself from the damp underwear. they join the pile on the floor, right next to yunho. his eyes fall on the discarded panties, and he has to close his eyes and breathe in to keep his composure. you've come a long way from being too shy to ask for a glass of water.

"you promised you'd fix my hair."

once he hears the water gently splashing, he turns around. the water is murky, hiding your bare body from his hungry eyes. while you settle down in it, yunho wastes no time in getting a hairbrush and bringing the stool to the tub so that he is behind you and the only way you can face him is by leaning your head against the rim of the tub. he places a smaller towel on it so that your neck doesn't hurt while you lean back. "clever girl."

you fail to hide the proud smirk on your face. a sigh leaves your lips when yunho's fingers sink into your hair and massage your scalp. you can't believe that those same hands almost dragged you to death just two hours ago.

"stay still." his voice is a whisper. you haven't even realized that your head was leaning into his touch, dragging your body out of the water and exposing you just above your breasts. you sink back in, covered all the way to the shoulders. "good girl."

his voice has never sounded so husky and... deep. manly. a warm sensation pools at the bottom of your stomach, and seems to start bubbling and getting hotter when your fingers brush against your thighs. it is not the first time that yunho does your hair. he loves doing it. but something about him doing it right there and then had your mind spinning. you tilt your head back to glance at him. the sight is both cute and funny: yunho dressed in all black, with a serious and focused expression as he does the familiar braid in your hair, and a lavender scrunchy on his wrist. soon enough, he pulls that scrunchy off his wrist and ties your hair with it, then keeps it in his hand to play with it.

"my pretty girl." he coos. his other hand reaches to caress your cheek, and a smile spreads on his lips, seeing how your body immediately responds to his touch. you sigh in content, nuzzling your face further into his warm hand. "do you trust me?"

"yes," you respond, lost in the way his hand trails down your neck and grazes your collarbones. "yes, i do."

yunho hums. your braid is left to hang in the air while he reaches for something. you trust him. which is why you keep your eyes closed, not bothering to see what he is doing. a gasp leaves your lips when you feel something hot on your collarbones, and your eyes shoot open.

yunho holds a candle above you, tilting it so that hot wax drips on your body. the feeling is strange. the pain is there, yet it adds to the fuel between your legs. he sets the candle back on the flat rim of the tub, then reaches for another one. "yunho-"

"you can take it." he encourages. he tilts it again, and you can't help the shuddering sigh that leaves your lips when it falls on your chest, grazing your tense nipples. "does that feel good, dollie?"

you can only nod while your fingers reach to touch your sensitive breasts. they accidentally graze the perky buds, and if you didn't bite your lip in time, yunho would know what you were doing under the murky water.

"words, precious." he tilts the candle again, more wax coating your collarbones and neck as his other hand still caresses your cheeks. "let me hear you."

"it feels good, yunho."

yunho usually hated when you used his full name. he loved your nickname. but now, as he listens to you say his whole name in almost a breathy moan, he can't help but gulp and bite his inner cheek. "one more."

fingers trail from your breasts to your core, digits eagerly pressing into the plush folds and giving you a lick of satisfaction. when yunho brings a fresh candle to your body, you can't help the impatient whimper that leaves your lips, causing him to lose it and pour it all at once on you. his pants tighten at the sight, dried wax coating your burning skin, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and eyes rolled back. your head is still resting on the rim, tilted so that he can look at your pretty face that has a warm orange hue due to the candles.

then, he notices the water moving. and he notices your hand that has disappeared under it. yunho yanks your braid, making your eyes widen. "are you touching yourself?"

you know better than to lie. but you also know how much yunho doesn't like when you touch yourself. he gets jealous, he says. yet he won't ever touch you. your hand freezes between your legs, but no matter how slowly you try to remove it, yunho already knows. it doesn't fix the damage.

"stupid little bunny."

as if you want him to meet his end, your eyes become glossy with tears, and your bottom lip quivers. he didn't mean to make you cry. but you knew the rules. and you never broke them. sometimes you'd threaten that you would, only to rile him up and make him give you attention. you've never actually done it. now that you did, yunho is baffled. he hates that he wants to keep watching. he doesn't need to look at your body. your face is enough.

"i'm sorry." your voice trembles.

then, yunho's gaze hardens. it makes you worry for a split second, until his hands reach for your knees that peek out of the water. he separates them, slow as ever, and you swear you hear his breath hitch. "keep going."

"what?" you blink your tears away, to his disappointment.

"i want to watch." his eyes are fixed on yours. when you start rising from the water to give him a view, yunho shakes his head. "i want to watch you enjoy it."

you should've known by now that he has odd requests and ways of doing things. like insisting on feeding you. holding your hand or carrying you when going to another room. putting your hair in a clip by himself. choosing which clothes you'll wear for him. this, however, you did not experience yet.

"go on, pretty. i'll guide you." his soft lips leave a kiss on your forehead. "but you'll have to talk to me when i say something to you. got it?"

"yes, sir."

he nods as a sign to keep going. he doesn't have to do anything else, because your fingers are back on your folds. he gently tugs at your braid; a sign to stop. "patience." he growls. "cup your pretty breasts for me. don't touch your nipples just yet."

back to the start. your hands obey his command, and soon enough, your thighs find themselves squeezing together and rubbing against each other. fed up with your impatience, yunho separates your knees once again, now keeping his hands firmly planted there.

"tell me," he whispers into your ear, "if it was me touching you..." he trails.

you whimper at the thought.

"what would you want me to do next?"

your imagination runs wild. you'd want him to do everything. the things you can't even say out loud. things that would surprise him. so you settle for a simple one. "kiss me."

he chuckles. "that i can do."

he teases first, lips hovering over yours instead of touching. "please." you breathe out.

"touch yourself for me." he demands. "soft circles on your pretty buds."

when you do so, he finally presses his lips into yours. it is needy, and hot. the way his teeth graze your bottom lip, tugging it and nibbling on it while your fingers work on yourself. small whines are swallowed by his hungry kisses, muffled by his hot tongue against your inexperienced one. he guides you by slowing down and letting both of you savour every lick and nibble. if you weren't in the water, you are sure you'd be burning up.

one of his hands abandons your knee and reaches for yours that grips the bathtub rim, and he guides it back under the water and to your core. he only touches your hand, careful not to accidentally graze your thighs or your slick core. your fingers move with his help, slowly circling your clit and removing them when he feels your body become tense. he denies the sweet pleasure multiple times, enjoying the way you squirm under him and whine into his lips.

"yunnie-"

"yunho." he growls. "call me by my name."

"please, please, please." you chant. "yunho, please."

"sensitive?" he asks, knowing the answer. this time, yunho pulls away, opting to admire your face and finally focusing on you. "i'll make you feel so good, doll. make you wish for nobody but me."

"please do." pleas don't stop leaving your mouth. under other circumstances, you'd feel pathetic. but right now? you are ready to get on your knees and beg. "touch me."

"i can't." he stops.

you groan in frustration, losing the orgasm once again. "why not? why won't you ever touch me? why do you keep me if you won't do anything with me? am i ugly to you? am i that unappealing? am i not enough sexually attractive? am i too inexperienced for you? is there someone else? if there is, why am i here? what do i have to do to-"

in a single motion, yunho pulls you out of the water. it splashes everywhere, including his clothes. the look on his face changes. he is furious. you are pulled into the room, water dripping behind and leaving a trail all the way to the bed. he doesn't seem fazed by the fact that you are completely naked in front of him, and that he has seen you, and thus, broken his own rule. yunho throws your body on the bed, then reaches for the red ropes on the night stand.

"no, no-" you regret your words. "i'm sorry! i didn't mean it!"

"shut the fuck up." he growls. your wrists are back in the ropes, and he wastes no time in tightening them. he turns your body around so that you lay down on your stomach, and then pulls your braid so that your head is tilted back, just like in the bathtub. "look at me."

"yunho, please-"

"look." spank. "at." spank. "me." spank.

eyes finally lock with his. even through the blurry vision, you can see just how dark they have become. you always do this. you build something, little by little, and then you become greedy and ruin it. "i'm sorry."

"what do you want?"

silence. the pain on your scalp softens, with yunho loosening his grip. his brows are furrowed, and you know you've made him more furious than ever, just by the look on his face. "what?"

"do you want me to touch you?"

"i-" you do. it's all that's on your mind right now. he had given you a taste, and you want it all. "yes."

"after all i did to you?"

this time, you are the one whose brows are furrowed. he does know what he did to you. and he does acknowledge how bad it is. yet all of it doesn't stop your body aching for his. soul yearning for his. mind longing for his. you want yunho in every way possible. you want him to be yours, as much as you are his. only then will you be happy, and only then will you stop with the tantrums.

"yes." you confirm.

"oh, doll." he turns you over again, this time gently. finally, he looks at you. all of you. he can't help the hand that reaches to caress your wax covered collarbones and chest, traveling down your stomach and to your thighs. "if i touch you how i want now..." he trails, gaze locked on your shivering body. "you'll belong to me only."

"don't i already belong to you?" you point out.

"you don't understand." he shakes his head. "i'll make it so that your body only responds to me, even when we are out in public. i'll make it so that your mind doesn't dare to think of other men. i'll mold you so that i am your only match, mentally and physically. i'll make it so that your walls mold to the shape of my cock, and can only take me and nobody else. i'll make it so that you cry from pleasure every time i get my hands on you, and i set high standards for you, that even if you tried to cheat, you'd be disappointed and crawl back to me."

"yunho-" you breathe out, gulping at his words.

"i'll spoil you. i'll kiss you. i'll fuck you. i'll do anything you ask me to. just..." the man looks deep into your eyes before he removes a stray strand from your face, tucking it behind your ear. he places his hand under your chin, raising your head so that you can properly look at him with those glossy eyes of yours. "promise me."

"promise you what?"

"promise that you belong to me. me and nobody else."

"i promise." the words come out in a whisper.

he shakes his head, not satisfied with the answer. "say it."

"i belong to you, yunho. my body and soul is yours." finally, he is satisfied. "under one condition."

he raises one eyebrow, surprised at your request.

"you can have me as long as i have you."

"you have me."

"no, i don't. not like i want to. what if you meet somebody prettier? more interesting? i've seen your coworkers. they're all gorgeous. i can't compare to them. what if you decide you want a normal relationship and grow bored of me?"

one confession after another has yunho's gaze softening. he wishes for nothing more than to press his lips against yours and kiss you like there is no tomorrow. but he has suppressed your feelings and opinions enough. "i would never get bored of you. you think i went to such lengths for something that is temporary?"

"then why don't you ever touch me?"

"because," his finger stops the fresh tear from rolling down your cheek, "once i have you, i won't be able to keep my hands off you."

"i don't want you to keep your hands off me." you hastily admit. he opens his mouth to speak, but you stop him by capturing his lips with yours. he relaxes into it, letting you lead by simply opening his mouth and inviting your tongue in. he is already burning for you, as are you for him. you pull away for a moment. "you said multiple times that you like to pamper and take care of me. now you can properly show it to me."

"i will take good care of you." he breathes out, gracing you with a hot kiss to your lips before trailing down your jaw and neck. "i will be everything you could want or need." his teeth graze the collarbone, making your hands snake around his neck. "i will be yours as much as you are mine."

his tongue peeks out, creating a path between your breasts, down your stomach, until he reaches your pulsating core. his hands rest on your waist, keeping your body firmly planted on the wet mattress. it is odd seeing someone like yunho be mesmerized by something. seeing his eyes locked to your glistening folds and bottom lip trapped between his teeth made your stomach erupt with butterflies. he is still holding back.

suddenly, the red rope catches his attention. you are still tied up. but when he goes to undo the knot, you stop him. "i want to keep them on. so you know i truly belong to you."

"doll..." voice pure velvet, yunho looks at you from between your legs. "what do you want me to do?"

you think. and think. but really, it is that simple. "everything you wanted to do, but you held back."

"you don't know what you are asking for." he warns.

"you said you'll do anything i ask." you remind him of his words spoken just minutes ago. "i ask you to not hold back."

with a groan, yunho pulls your body to the edge of the bed, burying his head between your thighs and inhaling your scent before letting his tongue taste you. immediately, your back arches off the bed, and tied up hands reach to grab his hair. the grip he has on your thighs to keep them apart is strong. so strong that you know they'll bruise.

"fuck-" his fingers spread your folds, leaving your sensitive clit exposed to his flattened tongue. "fuck!" you cry out.

he barely slides one finger inside your tight walls, and you can already feel the orgasm rushing. he has denied it many times today already, and he decides to be merciful and close his lips around the bundle of nerves and suck until you fall apart on the bed and his tongue. he doesn't give you a break, instead pulling his mouth away from you and sliding another finger inside. "so pretty."

digits easily find the plush button on the upper wall, caressing it and stimulating it to the point of making you cry from pleasure. tears spill down your cheeks, hands grip at the sheets, and body arches from the bed while your walls clench around him. when you look down to beg him to give you more, you choke on your breath. yunho humps the edge of the bed, gaze fixed on the way your walls swallow his fingers as he chases his own release. "yunnie..."

"yes, pretty girl?"

"you're humping the mattress while i am here?"

"you look and taste so sweet. i don't want to ruin it." he admits.

a laugh escapes your lips, and is interrupted by a moan when his other hand rests on your overstimulated clit. "i want you."

and just how can yunho say no to you?

"i'll try to be gentle." vision blurry and mind hazy, you don't question how fast yunho has taken his clothes off. he is on top of you, planting a kiss on your forehead before guiding his aching cock to your entrance. you clench before he even slips inside, making it harder for his wide length to separate your walls. inch by inch, yunho gets lost in the feeling of you, and can't help but slam his hips into yours. a cry meets his ears, making him realize what he did. "oh, doll. i am so sorry."

"it's alright." you assure, a hiccup betraying you.

"you feel..." he pulls away, only to slide back in again in a gentler motion and let out a satisfied hum. "oh, you feel heavenly."

all you can think about it the bulge in the bottom of your stomach. you feel him deep, and it is as enjoyable as it is painful. he is thicker than you've imagined, or ever seen, and he splits you open so beautifully, easily gliding in and out. "i want... i want..."

"you're a drooling mess, dollie." he teases. and he isn't wrong. you are so intoxicated by his smell, his touch, and the way he gazes at you, that you can't do anything else but lie down and take what he gives you. "fuck, i'm not going to last long. that doesn't usually happen."

"i'll take that as a compliment."

yunho picks you up by your waist, angling your body off the mattress and finally snapping his hips into yours, reaching into the places you never knew you had and drawing cries and moans from you. "say my name." he growls against your neck, the sticky tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each snap.

"yunho," you gasp.

"louder." snap.

"yunho," you try, but you are weak already.

"louder." he yanks at your braid, sending delicious pain to your scalp and inching you closer to your release. "say my name. tell me who you belong to. tell me who's fucking you right."

"yunho!"

"good, good girl." he praises, and finally, lets you relax as he helps you reach the peak and spill. "i'll ruin you for anyone else."

it takes you over the edge of the peak, making your body explode with pleasure that rushes all the way to your toes, fingers and scalp. you shake under his touch, riding out the waves of pleasure while he still works on getting himself to orgasm.

it doesn't take long, seeing your state of flushed cheeks, half closed eyes that lazily gaze at him, and the knot between your wrists. he spills into you, filling you to the brim and pulling out, only to squirt the remains on your abused clit. warm seed spills out of your hole and onto the mattress. you don't protest when his fingers collect the white fluid, only to push it back in.

"fuck, you really are perfect." he kisses your cheeks, then your forehead, and finally, your lips. "i guess i'll go run you another bath."

"guess so," you laugh. you watch him run into the bathroom and get his phone from the nightstand in the process, and can't help but glance at his tushy when he walks. "and yunho?"

"hm?"

"i meant what i said. i am yours, as long as you are mine."

"yes, doll." his eyes are fixed on the screen, and he is lucky he is hidden in the bathroom. he skims over the message over and over again, wondering whether he was reading it right. if you weren't right there, he would've thrown the phone at the mirror. it was as if his reflection was taunting him. smiling at him. freaking him out.

hongjoong: i know what you did, yunho. i gave you enough time to correct your mistakes or admit to it. if you don't want the police involved, you better set the poor girl free and we'll never talk about this again. last chance.

they know what he did. and they won't be afraid to rat him out. but no matter what promises he made to you today, one thing is still clear:

if he can't have you, nobody can.

and if hongjoong tries to take you away from him, may all deities help him.

[bnanamlkluvr]

ATEEZ – When They’re Playfully Jealous of Another Member

Hongjoong

"Wow, so you’re best friends now?" He crosses his arms dramatically but then immediately pulls you closer. You can see the fake sulking, but he secretly loves how much you reassure him.

Seonghwa

Just stares at you with a knowing smirk. He doesn’t say much—he just waits for you to notice him watching. When you do, he raises an eyebrow like, "Oh, don’t mind me. Just observing."

Yunho

"Fine, I’ll go find a new best friend too." He storms off… but immediately comes back five seconds later because he can’t actually stay mad. Ends up laughing and hugging you anyway.

Yeosang

"I see how it is." He goes fully silent, but you can tell he’s plotting something dramatic. Might jokingly start complimenting someone else just to see if you notice.

San

He pouts. It’s so obvious. He tries to act cool, but the second you tease him about it, he’s hugging you so tight and mumbling, "Just making sure you still like me more."

Mingi

"I am NOT jealous." He says while standing way too close and making it very obvious he’s trying to distract you from whoever you were talking to.

Wooyoung

Goes full dramatic mode. "Wow. So I’ve been replaced? That’s fine. I’ll just leave." (He does not, in fact, leave. He just stands there waiting for attention.)

Jongho

"Hmph." He’s too stubborn to admit it, but you can tell. He suddenly finds ways to hold your hand or keep you close, just to remind you who’s really your favorite.

[bnanamlkluvr]

PEACH EYES ✶ YUNHO

— You and your insufferable ex, an opinionated real estate agent named Yunho, are constantly bickering whenever you see eachother. He thinks you’re too idealistic, and you think he’s just a selfish prick. The bickering feels endless, until Yunho shows up at your doorstep at dawn, exhausted from a work night out, with a crying baby in his arms and desperation in his eyes.

The plan is simple at first: hand the child over to the nearest authorities and be done with the situation. But then, you find a note tucked in the baby’s blanket. The mother, on the run and out of options, begs whoever finds her son to care for him until she can return.

For once, you and Yunho call a truce, deciding to temporarily take care of the baby… at least just until you figure out what to do next.

Pairing: Ex!Yunho x Reader

Content: Exes to Enemies to Lovers, Lots of Bickering, Fluff, Angst, Second Chance, Fertility Issues, Mild Agoraphobia

Note: As you may have noticed this has a sensitive content so if that makes you uncomfortable don't interact with the posts related to it!

ᥫ᭡ click on a chapter to start

1. Pink in the Night

2. Caretaker

3. First Love/Late Spring

4. For the First Time

5. Glimpse of Us

6. The Night Me and Your Mama Met

A/N: reply to this post with an emoji to be added to the taglist ^-^

[bnanamlkluvr]

Bittersweet Desire

San is your ex boyfriend whom you had broken up with a year ago. And since then you didn’t see him and hadn't brought yourself to spare some time to look at his accounts, keeping yourself busy with your own life.But, let's just say that you're quite mentally unstable. And that brings you to drink every night to blow of some steam—like there's no other ways. As you got crazy drunk, your fingers slipped and you found yourself calling San’s number.

You felt your heart almost exploding in your chest, you were stunned hearing his voice after a long time when you finally decided to speak taking a deep breath. “H-hey…”

San knew that, the moment your voice came on the other side of the phone call, his heart was in for a rollercoaster ride of emotions. And he was right—his heart began to thump louder than it did on regular days. “Hey… Why did you Called me?”

You started to play with the necklace that was hugging your chest, you were so nervous but also so drunk as you let out a shaky exhale.

“Can I come over to your place? I don’t feel well.”

“You are drunk… Aren’t you?”

“Yeah… And I can’t let my mom see me like this.”

San was somewhat taken aback. He was hesitant a little, not sure of what to say. This was the first time you’re asking him to come over and it’s been a year since you two have been apart. He bit down his lower lip before giving a response. “…Fine. But only to check up on you, nothing more.”

You sniffed whipping your tears as quite as you can.

“I will be there in a few minutes…”

San ended the call without saying much more. He felt a little lost, still not too sure of what time feel. But he knew he can’t just leave you alone. So, he waited for you even though a part of him was starting to regret his decision to tell you to come over. Meanwhile, you had managed to find your way to San’s apartment building and you rang the bell. He quickly stood up from his couch to head toward his front door he was wearing the sweater you gave him for his birthday before. His expression turned dark as he laid his eyes on you. You looked as disheveled as can be and he hated seeing you like this… He was worried and mad at the same time. “Come in.” He said, pulling the front door wider to let you in. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his living room, he sat down on his chair to continue what he was working on his laptop. You were still standing with your cheeks flushing red, you decided to watch him a little leaning your head against the wall while you could barley stand on your own. Suddenly you found yourself walking towards him, you got down on your knees between his legs and wrapped your arms around his waist. San’s eyes widened, surprised and confused at your sudden intimate action. He couldn’t move for a few seconds clenching his jaw as his breath hitched in his throat. “… What are you doing?”

You buried your face against his stomach clinging him, mumbling his name while your eyes were closed. “Mmh San…”

He hesitates at first and finally decided to put his hand on your head. His eyes taking in your every detail from head to toe. “What is it?”

You put your head on his lap, you couldn’t hold your tears anymore after his response. “Why don’t you love me?”

He lets out a sigh, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs to look down at you. “Don’t say such ridiculous things, you’re drunk.”

You nuzzled against him and murmured his name again, you couldn’t deny anymore about how much you missed him. “Please… You didn’t answer me.”

He lets out a breath before speaking up once again. “Don’t be so… Clingy, and you won’t remember any of this, so stop it.”

Your grip on his sweater tightens to hold him closer to yourself. “Why can’t you understand?”

San couldn’t stop himself from clenching his jaw while he tried to stay stoic, his heart beginning to thump again from his chest. “D-don’t say nonsense Y/n.”

You stood up to sit on his lap when he wasn’t expecting, making him let out a silent gasp as you straddled him. “Is it nonsense? My feelings?”

He placed his hands on your waist to steady you while your faces were so close to each other that you could feel each other’s warm breath… He doesn’t respond immediately, almost too absorbed in his mixed feelings of your drunk behavior, and how adorable you were at the moment even while in a messy state like this. He slowly drags the pad of this thumb across your lower lip as he speaks again in a low voice. “Shut up. Stop talking…”

You leaned your forehead against his, you wanted to kiss him so bad and breathe into his scent. You were a mess. “Please tell me San… Make it stop.”

He lets out a quiet groan fighting his internal battle of wanting to kiss you and wanting to stay cold stoic. “You shouldn’t ask such things of me when you’re like this. Stop begging me.”

You brushed your nose against his skin to breathe his scent more. “Because I want you, isn’t it obvious?”

San almost lets out a small groan as you nuzzled against his skin, his hands subconsciously gripping your hips tighter and moving you further up against him. “You’re driving me insane right now, do you realize that?”

And just like that… He pulled you in for a bittersweet kiss he couldn’t wait any longer, kissing you hungry with passion but not too rough. Definitely a lot different from how he kissed you before, full of longing and desire, making your heart skip a beat when he finally gives you what you two have been wanting for a while. After he slowly pulled away, still close to your lips you looked into his eyes, he finally spoke almost like a whisper. “Yes, I’m still madly in love with you, and I don’t think I think I’ll be able to keep it any longer”

[bnanamlkluvr]

Warning!Nsfw audio

Yunho feels super sensitive against your hands┆⤿ 💌 ⌗

[bnanamlkluvr]

03. The Enforcer — By Order of the Black Pirates

An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series

Pairing: gang member!Yunho x fem!reader

AU: gang au

Word Count: 22.7k

Summary: The towering enforcer of the Black Pirates, both disarming and deadly—his easy charm capable of winning over enemies, while his legendary fury dominates the battlefield. But his unbreakable facade begins to crack when he meets a psychologist during a mission—someone who can see through his carefully crafted mask, just as he can see through hers. Beneath her confident exterior lies a frightened soul lost in a dark world, and for the first time, he finds himself compelled to protect someone in a way he never expected.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Trigger Warnings: mentions of child abuse, emotional blackmail, attempted sexual assault, scars, trafficking, blood and slight gore, language, contains dark themes in general

SERIES MASTERLIST | ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"Ryoichi Sato," Hongjoong murmured, studying the profile in his hands. "Founder of the Prestige Asylum—a supposed haven for the mentally ill. And you're telling me targeting him will benefit us... how exactly?"

Yunho gestured for him to turn to the next page. "Take a closer look, hyung. Do you notice a pattern in the patients he takes in?"

The Captain flipped through the thick file, his brows furrowing. Then, slowly, he straightened in his seat, his expression hardening. "They're... holy shit. They're all high-profile criminals. Wait—this isn't just a regular asylum, is it?" He looked up sharply at his brother, who wore a smug smile.

"Exactly," Yunho said, his tone calm but charged with conviction. "It's a front—a sanctuary for wealthy criminals. Cartel bosses, human trafficking kingpins, and, most importantly, rival gang leaders. All hiding out under the guise of being mentally unfit to face trial. And guess who's running the whole operation? A corrupt, retired official." He leaned forward, his voice lowering. "Now imagine the rise in our standing if we take these fools down and expose them. The Black Pirates would dominate the underworld again."

For a moment, Hongjoong stared at the Enforcer, his jaw slightly slack in astonishment. While their gang still held a prominent position at the top, he couldn't deny that their recent missteps had affected their reputation in the mafia world. Yunho's plan was undeniably tempting—a chance to reclaim their dominance.

But reality soon intruded, and his expression hardened. Seonghwa's precarious situation with the Red Room loomed large, the weight of unresolved tensions pressing heavily on his mind. Could they really afford to take on such a massive mission right now?

"I'm sure it all sounds good, Yunho," he began cautiously, "but—"

"Hyung, I know what you're thinking," the taller man cut in, raising a second file. "But I've already thought this through. You'll see here that Yeosang and I have everything planned out. Listen, I know things haven't exactly been smooth for us lately, but think about it—who are we? We're the Black fucking Pirates. It's time we reminded the underworld who runs this game."

The leader glanced at the new file, then back at Yunho. For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly overtaken by a glimmer of determination. Whatever obstacles lay ahead, Yunho's unwavering confidence was infectious, and the prospect of restoring their gang's power was too enticing to ignore.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's do it."

With that, he pushed thoughts of his eldest brother's precarious situation to the back of his mind. The Captain had given him the green light, and now it was time to execute. With Yeosang's meticulous planning and Jongho's steady hand in logistics, the groundwork had been laid faster than even he anticipated.

Now, dressed in a sharp suit and carrying an air of unshakable authority, Yunho strode into the Prestige Asylum under the alias Stefano Lee, a "security consultant" hired to assess the facility's operations. From the moment he stepped through the doors, his towering presence commanded attention. Unease rippled through the staff; the occasional nervous glance cast his way only fed his confidence. Awe wasn't uncommon, either—not that it surprised him. The Enforcer knew the effect he had on people.

His steps echoed purposefully through the pristine halls, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. He allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction, recalling how effortlessly he had sold his cover. If life had gone differently, he may have ended up on a movie set, playing the leading man. But fate had dealt him a different hand—a far grittier role to play.

And that was fine. He owed everything to Hongjoong, the man who had saved him from a life of aimless wandering. This mission wasn't just about taking down the asylum or the criminals it sheltered—it was about proving himself again, reminding the underworld of what the Black Pirates could do when they set their sights on a target.

His lips tugged into a small, confident smirk as his gaze locked onto the man he'd been waiting for. Dr Sergei Ivanov, head psychologist, walked with a cautious air that betrayed a sharp mind. He had spent days studying the asylum's organisational structure, and Ivanov's name stood out like a beacon. The man was vital, a potential key to cracking open this entire operation.

For Yunho, the next step was clear: bring the head psychologist to his side, whether through persuasion or pressure. The poor old Russian man would learn quickly—resistance wasn't an option.

Straightening his tie, he approached with the confidence of someone who already owned the room. His posture, his stride, even the slight tilt of his head—all radiated an unspoken message: You're going to listen to me, whether you like it or not.

"Dr Ivanov," he called smoothly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Stefano Lee. I believe we need to have a conversation."

His tone wasn't a question; it was a declaration. Time to get to work.

From across the hall, you stood unnoticed, your gaze fixed on the interaction unfolding between your mentor and the so-called security consultant. Stefano Lee—the name had been whispered through every corner of the asylum ever since Chairman Sato announced his arrival. The founder himself had vouched for the man, boasting of his unparalleled expertise and magnetic charm.

But you'd been wary of him from the start.

Unlike the rest of the staff, who either fawned over his imposing presence or shrank under the weight of it, you felt neither awe nor intimidation. What you felt was a nagging sense of scepticism.

Stefano was too polished, his every move carefully calculated. The way he carried himself screamed confidence, sure—but in his eyes, there was something far more telling. A spark of determination that went beyond professionalism. It wasn't the kind of fire you'd expect from someone hired to conduct a mundane security assessment.

This man had an agenda.

You had written it off as mere curiosity at first, content to watch him from afar and let others fall under his spell. But now? Watching him pull Dr Ivanov aside with that charming yet no-nonsense demeanour? That was when the alarm bells went off.

He was a security consultant, for heaven's sake. What possible business could he have with the head psychologist?

Your eyes narrowed, tracking their movements as he gestured toward a side corridor. Dr Ivanov's reluctance was clear in the stiffness of his shoulders, though he followed without protest.

Something wasn't right.

The uneasy twist in your gut only tightened as you lingered, debating whether to intervene. There was no reason for you to care—not when you were already walking a thin line just by being here. But Dr Ivanov wasn't just your mentor; he was one of the few people in this institution who still had a shred of integrity left.

And Stefano Lee? He was the very embodiment of the polished predators you had learned to recognise far too well.

Your fists clenched at your sides as you made your decision. If this man thought he could play his games unnoticed, he was sorely mistaken.

You weren't about to sit back and watch.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

"Mr. Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr Ivanov asked, his tone polite but cautious. He wore a civil smile, though the tension in his eyes betrayed the wariness beneath it.

Yunho settled into the chair across from him, his tall frame making the neat, utilitarian office seem smaller than it was. His eyes swept the room with the precision of someone who missed nothing. Sparse decor. Everything is meticulously arranged. Not a single photo or personal touch to suggest any life outside of this institution.

Work, and only work.

It was a treasure trove of deductions for the Enforcer. The absence of familial ties or sentimental keepsakes hinted at a man whose entire identity revolved around his profession. A loner, perhaps. Someone who found solace in control and order. That told the gang member all he needed to know about how to handle him.

"Ah, Dr Ivanov," Yunho said smoothly, leaning back in the chair with an air of casual confidence. "You know how thorough Chairman Sato likes to be. My job is to ensure this facility operates as securely and efficiently as possible. Cooperation from department heads like yourself will make that infinitely easier."

His tone was light, almost friendly, but his eyes carried a weight that made the head psychologist pause.

Dr Ivanov let out a small, dry chuckle, clasping his hands together on the desk. "A man dedicated to his work is always admirable, Mr. Lee. But I must admit, I fail to see how my department could have any bearing on your assessments. Surely the realm of psychology is far removed from the concerns of security?"

The scepticism was clear, though the Russian man hid it behind a veneer of civility. He was testing Yunho, trying to gauge his intent.

The taller man's lips curled into a faint smile—charming yet predatory, as if he were indulging the doctor in a harmless game of wits. "You'd be surprised, Doctor, how much overlap there can be. Security isn't just about locks and cameras. It's about people. Predicting their behaviour. Understanding their motivations."

He leaned forward slightly, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over the desk. "And from what I've gathered, you're the expert when it comes to the minds within these walls. Both staff and patients alike."

The head psychologist's smile faltered, if only for a moment before he recovered. "Flattery, Mr. Lee? I didn't take you for the type."

"Not flattery," Yunho countered, his tone hardening just enough to make his point. "Respect. The kind of respect one gives to someone with insight others might not possess. Insight that could be… very useful."

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension in the air almost tangible. The Enforcer let it hang there, his eyes locked onto Dr Ivanov's with a focus that bordered on unnerving.

"Now, Doctor," he continued, his voice dropping an octave, smooth but with an undercurrent of steel, "why don't we make this easy for both of us? I have questions, and you have answers. All I need is your cooperation. After all, it's in both our interests to ensure this institution remains… secure."

The elderly man's fingers twitched against the desk, his composure cracking ever so slightly under Yunho's gaze. He wasn't sure what game this so-called consultant was playing, but he could feel the noose tightening around him, one carefully calculated word at a time.

He adjusted his posture, his fingers steepling as he studied the man before him, his professional mask unwavering. "Mr. Lee," he began carefully, each word deliberate, "I appreciate your regard for my expertise. But forgive me if I fail to see how the psychology department intersects with your security evaluation. Perhaps if you were more forthcoming about your... intentions, I could provide better assistance."

The Enforcer leaned back in his chair, the movement slow, deliberate, and dripping with confidence, as though he owned not just the office but the very air in it. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, sharp as a knife's edge. "Intentions?" he echoed, his voice smooth, almost playful. "Doctor, my only intention is to make sure this place runs as securely as the Chairman expects. Isn't that why I'm here?"

"Of course," Ivanov replied, though the faint crack in his measured tone betrayed him. "But from my perspective, our patients and their care protocols seem far removed from your area of concern. Surely there are other departments better suited to your inquiries—maintenance, perhaps, or surveillance?"

Yunho's smirk widened, but the amusement in his expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I've already had enlightening conversations with those departments," he said, his tone laced with charm and a trace of menace. "Very helpful people, really. But here's the thing, Doctor." He leaned forward, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow across the desk as he clasped his hands loosely. "In a place like this, the locks on the doors are only half the battle. The minds inside—those matter just as much. Don't you agree?"

The head psychologist's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly at the repeated emphasis. "I would agree," he admitted cautiously, "but that still doesn't explain—"

"Doesn't explain what?" Yunho cut in smoothly, his voice dropping a note lower, the quiet intensity in it demanding attention. "Why I'd care about the dynamics between staff and patients? Why I'd want to understand how the people here interact with each other?" His smile returned, this time sharper, more calculated. "Doctor, wouldn't you say that understanding human behaviour is key to preventing... incidents?"

Ivanov's fingers tightened around the desk's edge, the slight movement not escaping Yunho's notice. "Naturally," the head psychologist replied, his tone measured, though unease flickered in his eyes. "But if you're implying there's something amiss with the dynamics here, I assure you—"

"I'm not implying anything," Yunho interrupted, his tone softening, though the tension in the room only grew. "I'm just a curious man doing his job. After all, the Chairman hired me to be thorough." He let his gaze drift across the sparse, clinical office before settling back on the elderly man with laser-like focus. "And I am thorough."

Dr Sergei Ivanov, seasoned in dissecting minds, found himself at a rare loss. The man before him was an enigma—a puzzle that refused to align. Something about Stefano Lee spoke of a purpose that went far beyond his supposed role. Who was this man? A mere consultant, or something much more dangerous?

The silence that followed hung thick and oppressive. Ivanov exhaled slowly, forcing himself to meet Yunho's gaze. "You certainly live up to your reputation, Mr. Lee," he said finally, his voice steady but cautious. "I see why the Chairman holds you in such high regard."

The young man chuckled, low and unsettling. "Flattery, Doctor? I didn't peg you for the type."

The psychologist's jaw tightened at having his own words thrown back at him, but he managed a thin smile. "Simply acknowledging skill where it's due. Though I must admit, your methods of information-gathering are... unique."

"It's all about perspective," Yunho replied as he stood, his deliberate movements amplifying his towering presence. "And from where I'm standing, I'd say we're off to a good start, wouldn't you?"

Dr Ivanov didn't respond immediately, his mind racing to piece together the enigma in front of him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a sharp knock shattered the tension, and the door swung open without waiting for an answer.

"Then I'm sure Chairman Sato would be thrilled to hear about this collaboration." Your casual tone hung in the air like a threat, and for the first time, the Enforcer's composure faltered ever so slightly. The mention of Ryoichi Sato was a card played with precision—a warning that if his intentions were exposed now, it could bring his mission to a grinding halt.

You strode in briskly, a file clutched in one hand, your eyes fixed solely on your mentor as though Stefano Lee were little more than a shadow. "Sir," you said crisply, your earlier veiled threat delivered as if it were a passing remark, "you're needed in the PICU ward. A patient is threatening suicide."

The head psychologist shot to his feet, hastily snatching the file from your hand. His gaze darted toward the gang member, unease flickering in his expression. "I-I..."

You finally turned your attention to the so-called security consultant, your expression unreadable as you placed a reassuring hand on Dr Ivanov's arm. "It's alright, sir. You go. I'll handle Mr. Lee."

"But—"

"There's no time to waste," you interjected, your voice calm yet unyielding. "Go."

Your mentor hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded reluctantly. He cast the guest a wary glance, his polite facade barely holding. "Mr. Lee," he said, forcing a tight smile, "thank you for your understanding."

Yunho inclined his head, his smile returning with practised ease as he buried any trace of unease. "The pleasure's all mine, Doctor."

With one final look, the Russian man hurried out of the office, leaving the room thick with unspoken tension as the door clicked shut behind him. Now, it was just you and Stefano Lee, his enigmatic facade meeting your calculated indifference.

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"Since you're so keen on understanding how our department operates, let me show you the patients' favourite spot," you said, your tone laced with thinly veiled sarcasm as you led him down the verdant pathways of the institution. The tension between you hung heavy in the air as the distant sound of rustling leaves mingled with the faint hum of the asylum's ever-present security systems.

The path opened into a pristine stretch of green, encircled by neatly maintained fences.

"The tennis courts?" Yunho asked, his brow arching, an edge of disbelief creeping into his voice.

You turned sharply on your heel, your piercing glare locking onto him. "Why so surprised? I thought you knew everything there is to know around here. Or…" You paused, your voice dropping into a sly mockery. "Let me guess. Maybe your research wasn't as extensive as you thought. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye, Stefano Lee… or whatever your real name is."

He froze for a moment, the faintest flicker of surprise breaking through his carefully constructed mask. You could see the gears in his head turning, his sharp mind trying to recalibrate. But for once, it seemed, he had no immediate retort.

The Enforcer straightened, forcing a grin that was too sharp, too deliberate. "Of course, that's my real name. And you're right—maybe I should have done a better job researching my client. But I know enough about you, at least," he said, eyeing your name tag.

"Do you?" you countered instantly, one brow arching in amusement. "So you know my name. Big deal. That's basic information."

Yunho leaned back slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets in a transparent attempt to feign control. But the tension in his posture betrayed him. "I know you have a love-hate relationship with your job, Dr Prude."

There it was. That name. The one whispered behind your back by the staff who envied your success, your precision, your unapologetic ambition. It stung—because it was meant to. But you'd heard it all before. And now this stranger was trying to weaponise it against you.

"Is that all?" you asked, your voice cool and sharp like a blade. "So you know the playground gossip. Congratulations. But let me make something perfectly clear, Stefano"—you spat his name with venom—"you don't scare me."

Your words hit like a slap, and his grin faltered for the briefest moment. He was losing his footing, and you could see the frustration creeping into his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.

"You are right about one thing, though," you continued, taking a deliberate step closer. "I do have a love-hate relationship with this job. Which is why I don't care what you're really here for. Just leave me and my mentor out of it."

He scoffed, the sound laced with disbelief. "I don't know what you mean by that. I'm only here to do my job—"

You snorted, cutting him off without hesitation. "Save the act. Do you really expect me to believe intimidating the head psychologist is part of your job description?"

The sharpness of your words sent a flicker of unease across his face, and for a moment, he seemed to lose his usual composure. You followed his gaze as it shifted—almost involuntarily—toward the tennis courts.

Your smirk widened as your eyes zeroed in on the figure lingering near the edge of the court. Clad in staff attire, the man moved with calculated casualness, but it was clear he was out of place.

"And your not-so-subtle friend over there?" you added, nodding toward Yeosang, whose attempts to blend in were painfully obvious. "He tells me more than enough about you."

His jaw tightened, his calm slipping as the realisation sank in—you'd not only seen through him but had also spotted his ally.

He shot a sharp look toward his brother, who froze, his alert eyes locking onto you. The Phantom, clearly aware his cover had been blown, remained rigid as Yunho gave a subtle shake of his head, signalling him to stand down.

The silence stretched, thick with tension, as he turned back to you. His usual confidence was cracking, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a vice.

You could see it—the frustration, the disbelief, the dawning understanding that he'd underestimated you. And it was exhilarating.

Fuck, I really underestimated her.

You sighed, observing the flicker of tension in the man's expression. Despite his best efforts to maintain an air of indifference, you could see the turmoil beneath the surface—the faint crease in his brow, the subtle tightening of his jaw. For a fleeting moment, you almost felt bad for him. Almost.

It was clear that whatever grand plans he had were now in shambles, and you were entirely to blame.

"Listen, I—" he began, his voice low, tinged with exasperation, but you raised a hand, cutting him off before he could say more.

"No," you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. You don't owe me anything. But…" You allowed a sly smile to curl your lips as you glanced toward the Phantom, who still stood frozen by the tennis courts, visibly tense. "You might owe your buddy an apology for this failure."

Yunho followed your gaze, his lips pressing into a thin line as Yeosang subtly shifted his weight, clearly displeased at their mission running into such a huge error this early on.

You turned back to the taller man, tilting your head slightly as you regarded him with curiosity. Who were these men? What organisation were they from? You didn't need to be a genius to figure out they weren't who they claimed to be. Yunho might have come here under the guise of a security consultant, but his polished act was starting to crack under scrutiny.

Not that it mattered to you. You weren't particularly interested in who they were or why they were here. If anything, you'd be amused to see them succeed. The Chairman was nowhere near a saint, and if these strangers were here to exact some kind of revenge or justice, well… you wouldn't shed a tear.

Still, you knew better than to get involved.

"I don't know what you have planned," you continued, your voice softening just slightly, "but don't worry. I won't tell anyone about this."

His brows furrowed, his confusion evident as you took a step closer, lowering your voice. "Just stay out of my way, and Dr Ivanov's, and we'll stay out of yours. Deal?"

For a long moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you. Then, with a faint smirk, you bowed your head slightly—a gesture more mocking than respectful.

"Best of luck, Stefano," you added, your tone carrying a finality that left no room for further discussion. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, your confident strides kicking up the faintest swirl of dust from the gravel path.

He remained rooted to the spot, watching your retreating figure with a mix of frustration and something he couldn't quite place—admiration? Awe?

In all his years as a member of the Black Pirates, he'd never encountered anyone who could unsettle him quite like you had. His mind raced, replaying every moment of the exchange, trying to pinpoint where he'd lost control.

Damn it.

The intelligence expert of the gang approached cautiously, his usual calm demeanour marred by a hint of irritation. "She figured us out already—how? What did you do?"

Yunho's jaw tightened at the accusation, his gaze snapping to meet his brother's. The cold sharpness in his eyes made it clear he didn't appreciate the insinuation. "I didn't do anything outside the plan. It was her... she happened. We underestimated her," he muttered, though his tone carried an odd lack of animosity when it came to you.

"Great... so what now?" Yeosang asked quietly, his eyes darting toward the path where you had disappeared, his unease evident.

The taller man exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. "Now?" he repeated, a faint, almost self-deprecating smirk pulling at his lips. "Now we regroup."

But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake the impact you'd left on him. For all his meticulous planning, you'd proven to be a wild card he hadn't accounted for—a reminder that even the sharpest strategies could falter when faced with an unpredictable force.

Yeosang nodded reluctantly and led Yunho toward a secluded area away from prying eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper. "She knows we're not who we claim to be. I say we deal with her before she gets in the way."

Yunho frowned deeply, shaking his head. "Are you insane? She's the deputy head psychologist. If something happens to her, especially right after being seen with me, it'll raise every red flag imaginable."

"So what, we're just gonna let her roam around freely, knowing full well we're here to take down her boss?" the Phantom growled under his breath, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"She won't say anything," Yunho replied with a certainty that only seemed to irritate Yeosang further.

"Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you know that?"

Yunho closed his eyes briefly, the memory of your calm, pointed words flashing in his mind. "Because she told me so," he said simply.

His brother let out a sharp scoff. "And you believe her? She's a damn shrink, my friend. Those types know exactly how to mess with your head—get under your skin and twist the truth until you don't know what's real anymore."

The taller man's eyes snapped open, his voice cutting through Yeosang's scepticism with an uncharacteristic sharpness. "I'm not an idiot, Yeo. I know how to spot a lie, and she wasn't lying. She may be loyal to Ivanov, but she's not loyal to this place."

Yeosang's frown deepened, his jaw clenching as he weighed Yunho's words. "Well, for our sake, I hope you're right," he muttered darkly. "Because if you're not, we're fucked."

Yunho didn't respond, his mind already turning over the possibilities. Deep down, he knew Yeosang wasn't wrong to be cautious, but he also couldn't ignore the strange certainty that had settled in his gut. You weren't their ally, but for now, you weren't their enemy either. And that was a risk he was willing to take.

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"Hyung, permission to switch targets."

The words seemed to hang in the air as Yeosang's irritation with the situation persisted. "Switch targets?"

The Captain, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke, his voice calm but sharp. "Let me guess, Yunho—you want to collaborate with the deputy head psychologist now?"

The Enforcer nodded, his gaze steady even as he bowed his head slightly, ashamed of his failure. Hongjoong's lips pursed, his expression unreadable, but he didn't speak right away.

Jongho, who had been sitting quietly nearby, leaned forward slightly, his thoughtful gaze fixed on Yunho. "You know what? That actually makes a lot of sense," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Based on what you said, she's incredibly observant and perceptive. Just the fact that she managed to see through you and spot Yeosang hyung, despite all our precautions, speaks volumes about her. If there's anyone on the inside who could be an asset, it's her."

The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at Yunho's lips at the youngest's words. He agreed wholeheartedly—you were something else.

Hongjoong sighed deeply, running a hand over his face as he considered the implications. "If we're going to shift our approach, I want this done carefully. No risks we can't manage." His voice dropped slightly, tension seeping into his words. "We're already stretched thin with Seonghwa still stranded at the Red Room. I don't want another loose thread to worry about."

Yunho nodded, his voice firm. "I'll handle it, hyung. She won't be a problem."

The gang leader's sharp gaze fixed on him. "Go ahead, then. Do what you think is best, but if this backfires, it's on you."

"Understood."

Yeosang let out an exasperated breath, his frustration was evident. "You're really putting a lot of faith in someone who works for the Chairman. Just because she hasn't blown our cover yet doesn't mean she's not a threat."

"She hasn't blown it because she doesn't want to," the Enforcer countered, his tone unyielding. "Again, she's not loyal to Ryoichi Sato—we've been over this already."

The Anchor nodded, his thoughtful expression unwavering. "If she's really disillusioned with this place, that gives us leverage. She could be the key to understanding the Chairman's weaknesses."

Hongjoong sighed again, rubbing his temples. "Fine," he said finally, his tone resigned but firm. "Do it. But tread carefully. The moment she becomes a liability, you pull out. Clear?"

"Crystal," Yunho replied without hesitation.

The leader's gaze softened just slightly, enough to show the trust he still had in his team. "Good. Now go before I change my mind."

As Yunho left the room, a faint smirk playing on his lips, Yeosang shook his head in disbelief. "This is a mistake," he muttered.

"Maybe," Hongjoong admitted, his voice measured. "But mistakes can lead to victories if you know how to play them."

"Or they can get us all killed," Yeosang muttered under his breath.

Jongho offered a faint smile. "Let's hope Yunho hyung's instincts are as sharp as he thinks they are." The room fell silent, the weight of their gamble settling heavily over them all.

The Enforcer adjusted the cuffs of his tailored coat as he stood outside the towering gates of Prestige Asylum. This time, he was alone. Yeosang had made it clear he wouldn't tag along—not because he didn't care but because watching his brother navigate the intricate dance of persuasion with you had proven too frustrating for the Phantom. Yunho didn't blame him; even he wasn't entirely sure what to expect from you.

The mansion had been tense that morning, Yeosang offering only a curt nod and a muttered "good luck" as Yunho prepared to leave. It wasn't that he didn't want this to work; in fact, Yeosang probably wanted success more than anyone else. But his scepticism about you was evident. Yunho could almost hear the Phantom's voice in his head as he walked up the familiar path leading to the asylum: Don't mess this up. Don't let her outplay you again.

Yunho smirked at the thought, his confidence unshaken. She won't outplay me. Not this time.

Inside the asylum, the sterile halls felt even quieter than before, as if the oppressive atmosphere itself could sense the weight of his intentions. He stopped at the front desk, his smooth charm carefully masking the tension simmering beneath his calm exterior. "I'm here to see the deputy head psychologist," he said with a polite smile.

The receptionist glanced up, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. "Mr. Lee?" she asked, her tone cautious. She suppressed her reservations, silently questioning what the new security consultant could possibly want with Dr Prude. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Yunho replied smoothly, his tone calm yet firm, "but I believe she'll want to see me."

The receptionist hesitated briefly before picking up the phone. After a quiet exchange, she looked back at him and nodded. "She'll meet you in her office. Down the hall, third door on the left."

As he made his way, his mind replayed the events of your last encounter—a potent mix of frustration and admiration swirling within him. You had dismantled his plan with precision, exposing cracks he hadn't even considered, and yet it wasn't just your brilliance that lingered in his mind. It was the fire in your eyes, the unyielding confidence that matched his own, if not exceeded it.

He knocked twice before opening the door.

You sat at your desk, head tilted slightly as you scribbled notes into a file. For a moment, you didn't acknowledge him, but when your sharp gaze finally met his, the tension between you crackled, unspoken yet palpable. Neither of you was willing to back down.

"Back so soon, Stefano?" you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you'd had enough of me last time."

He chuckled softly, closing the door behind him. "Believe it or not, I'm not here for round two of our verbal sparring match." His voice dipped slightly, deliberate and measured. "I'm here to make you an offer."

You leaned back in your chair, raising an eyebrow as if to say, This should be good. "An offer? What could someone like you possibly offer me?"

"A way out," he said simply, his confidence unwavering.

Your reaction was subtle but telling—a faint twitch of your brow, a brief stilling of your fingers as they tapped against the desk. "And what makes you think I need a way out?" you countered, your voice steady and cool.

"Because you're too smart to waste your talents here," he said, his tone softening, almost conspiratorial. "You know this place is rotten to its core. You've seen Ryoichi Sato's true nature. Why stay loyal to an institution that doesn't deserve you?"

You folded your arms, your expression inscrutable. "So, your grand plan is for me to betray my employer and join forces with… whoever you really are?"

He stepped closer, his intense gaze locking with yours, shrinking the space between you. "I'm not asking you to betray anyone. I'm asking you to work with us. Help us take down the Chairman, and in return, we'll make sure you come out of this unscathed."

You tilted your head, studying him as if weighing every word. "And why should I trust you? You're not exactly the picture of transparency."

He smirked, leaning casually against the edge of your desk. "You don't have to trust me. Trust your instincts. You've already figured out I'm not here to hurt you or Ivanov. If anything, we're on the same side."

The room grew quiet as you considered his words, the sharp gears of your mind undoubtedly working overtime. Finally, you leaned forward slightly, your voice laced with pointed sarcasm. "Huh, sounds tempting. It might be tempting for someone reckless enough to commit treason, that is. But here's the part where you're wrong—I have no intention of risking my life for your ambitious little plan. After all, if you were as confident as you pretend to be, you wouldn't need me. Thanks, but no thanks."

The rejection landed sharper than Yunho anticipated, and though he cursed internally, a part of him couldn't help but admire your resistance. "I understand your concerns," he said, his voice calm despite the undercurrent of frustration.

"You don't understand anything, Stefano," you snapped, cutting him off with a sharp edge in your tone. Your eyes burned with something deeper—an unspoken burden he wasn't privy to but knew he needed to uncover. Why were you so adamant against cooperating, especially when your loyalty to the Chairman seemed nonexistent?

"Fine," he conceded, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender. "I won't argue with you. But think about what I said. The offer won't stay on the table forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a spark of intrigue you couldn't completely hide. "I already said no. You can take your offer elsewhere."

Straightening, the Enforcer's smirk returned, slow and deliberate. "You know damn well there's not many in this damned institution I can rely on like you. Don't be so hasty to turn me down—I'll convince you, Dr Prude."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you to scoff in disbelief. Alone once more, you sat in silence, frustration mingling with the undeniable curiosity he had managed to spark.

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The soft click of the door opening broke the silence in your office, pulling you from your thoughts. Dr Ivanov entered, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto yours, weariness etched into his face.

"I heard that security consultant dropped by. What does he want?" His deep voice carried a note of concern, though he masked it well.

You rose from your seat instinctively, bowing respectfully before gesturing for him to sit. "Yes, well…" you hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line. "He wants the same thing he wanted from you. Seems his attention has shifted to me now."

The elderly man sank into the chair across from you, his brow furrowing as he absorbed your words. For a moment, he was silent, his calculating mind undoubtedly piecing together the implications of Yunho's renewed interest. "Well?" he finally asked, his voice calm but tinged with worry. "Did you agree to it?"

Your response came instantly, your head shaking as if on reflex. "Of course not, sir," you whispered fiercely. Taking such a risk was unthinkable, the potential consequences far too dire. One misstep would endanger not only yourself but your family—and his. The asylum's unrelenting grip on your lives was an invisible shackle neither of you could escape.

Ivanov's shoulders relaxed slightly, though the tension lingered in his eyes. He glanced at your hands, clenched into tight fists on the desk, a habit that betrayed the memories threatening to surface—memories that haunted you both.

"You made the right decision," he said softly, though his words felt like cold comfort. "But you know he'll come back."

"I know," you murmured, lowering your gaze. Your voice was thick with frustration, the weight of fear pressing against your chest.

Your mind drifted, unbidden, to the beginning of this nightmare, the memories as vivid as if they had just occurred. You'd been fresh out of university then, brimming with ambition and armed with a psychology degree you'd worked tirelessly to earn. Interning under Dr Ivanov had been transformative—he had seen potential in you that no one else had, vowing to guide you through your career. When the offer from Prestige Asylum came, it had seemed like a dream.

The facility's reputation was impeccable, a beacon of excellence in mental health care. It felt like winning the lottery, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you couldn't afford to pass up. The secrecy surrounding the institution's operations hadn't raised alarms; instead, it only added to the mystique. You felt honoured to stand beside him, your combined reputation a testament to integrity and expertise.

But cracks in the perfect facade had shown themselves quickly. The work was unlike anything you'd experienced before, the protocols unsettling and alien. Patients were scarce, their places filled by high-profile criminals hidden under the guise of treatment. The truth unravelled slowly, then all at once—a grotesque revelation that had left you and your mentor reeling in horror.

You'd both tried to leave, submitting your resignations in tandem, naively believing that principles would protect you. That illusion was shattered the moment you were summoned to meet Ryoichi Sato.

The Chairman's demeanour was calm, almost cordial, as he laid out file after file. Each one contained intimate details of your family's lives—names, addresses, routines—all laid bare as leverage. His cruel smile and carefully chosen words crushed any hope of escape. "You're the best," he had said, his tone almost mocking. "Your reputations are what make this place believable. Why would I let you go when you're perfect for the role?"

Since that day, you had been trapped, your skills and moral standing weaponised to mask the institution's sinister purpose. You'd learned to live with the ever-present fear, not for yourself but for the people you loved. Even if you somehow escaped, you knew Prestige Asylum's reach would follow you.

You glanced at Dr Ivanov now, his tired eyes reflecting your own. The two of you were bound together by this shared nightmare, captives in a gilded cage. Yet, his presence was an anchor in the storm, a steadying force. He was more than a mentor now—he was family, the closest thing to a father you had in this twisted place.

For a fleeting moment, your resolve wavered. Yunho's words echoed faintly, offering an out, a faint glimmer of hope. But hope was dangerous here, fragile and easily crushed. The elderly man's steady presence reminded you why impulsive action wasn't an option. The risk was too great, the cost too unthinkable.

For them. The mantra steadied you, as it did every day. It was why you stayed, why you endured the suffocating walls of this asylum. For the people waiting for you on the outside, for the faint possibility that one day this nightmare might end. Until then, all you could do was hold the line and navigate the razor-thin path laid before you.

Your mentor checked his watch, the faint lines on his face deepening with a sigh. "I have to get back to my post now," he said, rising from his seat with a heavy air. "But if that Stefano man ever bothers you again, let me know—"

You smiled softly, cutting him off. "Don't worry, sir. I'll know how to handle him. He won't sway me." Your voice was calm but firm, a quiet reassurance you hoped would ease his concerns.

Still, the weight of Yunho's visit lingered in your mind, the mystery of his identity gnawing at the edges of your resolve. "Besides," you added, your tone growing more contemplative, "we don't even know who he really is or who he works for. A big part of me hopes whatever he's planning works out... but I know it's in our best interests to stay uninvolved. Sato's connections make him far too powerful. I doubt one organisation alone could bring him down."

Dr Ivanov studied you for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're right. I'm more reassured now, knowing you've thought this through so carefully. Stay safe, my dear."

"Thank you, sir. You too," you said quietly, bowing your head as you rose to escort him out.

At the door, the elderly man turned back to you, his expression briefly softening. "I will. We'll be okay," he murmured, his voice laced with the kind of warmth and care that reminded you of all the reasons you trusted him so deeply.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you stood in the quiet of your office, the lingering echoes of his presence both a comfort and a reminder of the precarious line you walked. Your gaze drifted to the sterile walls around you, the faint hum of the asylum's machinery a backdrop to your thoughts.

Stay uninvolved. The words repeated themselves in your mind, a steady mantra to counter the flicker of temptation Stefano Lee's offer had planted. Whatever freedom he hinted at wasn't worth the risk—not when the stakes were this high, not when so many lives were intertwined with your own.

With a deep breath, you returned to your desk, steeling yourself once more. In a place like this, where trust was a rarity and survival meant walking on a knife's edge, resolve was the only armour you had.

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"Good morning, Dr Prude."

You sighed, the sound of his voice confirming what you already knew without needing to glance to your left. Of course, it was him—the persistent, tall, and infuriatingly handsome man who seemed to make it his mission to pester you.

"The more you call me that, the quicker you'll lose whatever slim chances you think you have," you replied, your tone sharp but laced with subtle amusement.

He smirked, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. "Ah, so you're admitting I might've had a chance otherwise?" he teased, his words carrying that familiar mix of charm and mischief.

You raised a brow, feigning indifference while suppressing the flicker of amusement threatening to surface. For a brief moment, your thoughts wandered. Under different circumstances—if you were just an ordinary psychologist and he, an ordinary man—things might have been different. You might have seen him as a potential partner, someone worth taking a chance on.

But the moment passed quickly, and you blinked away the dangerous line of thought, locking it down as you focused ahead. Damn him for being so charming. No, you reminded yourself firmly, he wasn't going to rattle you. Not now, not ever.

Letting your guard snap back into place, you shifted direction abruptly, veering deeper into the hallways where the more intensive care patients were held. "You're wasting your time, Mr. Lee. Go bother someone else. I can't help you."

He exhaled in what sounded like momentary defeat, watching as you strode off with the same confidence you always carried. But even as you walked away, his gaze lingered, catching the briefest flicker in your eyes—something unguarded, something vulnerable. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was enough to spark a quiet curiosity within him.

The Enforcer knew it wasn't his business, and it certainly wasn't part of his mission. Yet something about you gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, compelling him to want to know more. There was a strength about you that was undeniable, but it felt... manufactured, like a mask you wore too well.

It was as if you were holding yourself back, tethered to something invisible yet suffocating, something that bound you so tightly it stopped you from moving freely. Yunho didn't know what it was, but the thought of it bothered him. Whatever it was that weighed you down, it wasn't just your burden to bear. At least, not if he had anything to say about it.

Wait... why did he even care so much? He paused, forcing himself to refocus on the mission. That was the only reason he was here—to make use of you, to get you on his side. Yet, there was something about you that unsettled his resolve, something beyond your sharp remarks and unwavering confidence that he couldn’t ignore.

It wasn't just attraction, though he couldn't deny how drawn he was to your competence. If there was one thing he admired in a woman, it was the ability to hold her own, and you had that in spades. You carried yourself with a strength that demanded respect, but it wasn't just the surface that intrigued him. Beneath the polished exterior, there was something raw, something real.

It reminded him of himself—not the man he was now, but the boy he used to be. The boy who had once cowered in the shadow of fear, trapped in a home that offered no love, only control and pain. He had known what it was like to feel bound by circumstances, to see no way out—until the Captain of the Black Pirates found him and gave him a second chance at life. Seeing you now was like looking into a mirror of his past. You were afraid—he could sense it, even if you hid it well. But afraid of what? That question clawed at him, sparking a need to understand you better.

Of course, he told himself, this curiosity wasn't personal. No, it would only serve his mission. Learning more about you would help him coax you into cooperation. That's all it was. This was about ensuring the success of his assignment, about proving Hongjoong's faith in him wasn't misplaced. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked—not with the stakes so high.

And besides, he thought with a faint smirk, he couldn't let Mingi have the satisfaction of questioning his ability to get the job done. No, Yunho would handle this—and you—exactly as planned. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Yes, this is all for the mission.

Stepping into the intensive care unit, any thoughts of Stefano Lee were thrown out the window as you tightened your grip on your composure, your expression a carefully crafted mask despite the wild, unrelenting thrum of your heartbeat. It wasn't the work itself that unnerved you—far from it. Caring for those in need had once been your passion, the foundation of your dreams. But here, in this place, the people you were forced to deal with weren't patients in any sense of the word. They were predators masquerading as something else, wolves dressed in the clothing of the vulnerable.

"Mr. Zhou has specifically asked for you today, Doctor," the nurse in charge informed you, her tone indifferent as she handed over a clipboard you had no choice but to accept.

Of course, he had.

Zhou was among the most vile of them all—a man who thrived on the suffering of others, the mastermind of a sprawling human trafficking network. And yet, he had decided that you were to be his source of amusement. It wasn't hard to see why; you were nothing like the other women here, those who simpered and flattered him in a desperate bid to curry favour. No, your quiet defiance, your refusal to play his games, seemed to intrigue him in ways that made your skin crawl.

You hated him. More than anyone else in this twisted facility. Others dealt in drugs or gambling—abhorrent crimes, yes, but nothing compared to Zhou's grotesque trade of innocence and humanity. To you, he was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with this place, and being near him felt like willingly stepping into quicksand.

But Zhou wasn't just another criminal. He was one of Sato's prized 'patients,' his wealth ensuring a status that made him untouchable. "He's a high-paying customer," the Chairman had said, his voice dripping with disdain as he slid a photograph across his desk—one of your parents, their unsuspecting smiles now burned into your memory. "We can't afford to lose his business. Do us all a favour and keep him happy. After all, you have a family to think about, don't you? Wouldn't want anything to happen to your sweet parents."

The helplessness of that moment still clawed at you, the suffocating sense of being trapped. All you'd been able to do was nod and whisper, "Yes, sir," as your nails bit into your palms, drawing blood you hadn't even felt at the time.

Now, that same photo flashed in your mind as you clutched the clipboard with trembling hands, forcing yourself to walk toward Zhou's ward. Each step felt like another inch toward a gaping abyss, yet you kept moving. The whispers and judgemental stares of your colleagues barely registered—what did their scorn matter when the stakes were this high? Let them call you 'Dr Prude.' Let them roll their eyes and mock your cold demeanour. None of it could compare to the suffocating weight of the threat hanging over your family.

"There you are, my darling!"

The voice, sickly sweet and dripping with false affection, sent a chill coursing through your body. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you, before forcing your lips into a polite smile. "Good morning, Mr. Zhou," you said evenly, the calmness in your voice hiding the storm of despair and disgust that churned within.

You couldn't falter now—not when every move you made was a performance for survival.

You stepped into his ward, clutching the clipboard so tightly to your chest that your knuckles turned white. It was a flimsy barrier, but it was all you had against the man sprawled in his cushioned chair, exuding an air of unearned power. His hospital gown, clean and unassuming, was a cruel mockery of the monster you knew he was.

"Ah, my favourite doctor," Zhou greeted, his voice syrupy with mock warmth that sent a chill racing up your spine. He leaned back leisurely, his sharp eyes sliding over you like a knife against skin. "What a lovely sight first thing in the morning."

You forced a polite smile, though your throat tightened painfully. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but that was not an option. Not here. Not with him.

He gestured to the chair across from him, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Come, sit. Let's chat before we get into all those boring tests you insist on."

You took a step closer but stayed standing, your spine stiff with an invisible armour you hoped wouldn't crack. "Thank you, Mr. Zhou, but I'd prefer to get this done quickly. I'm sure you have more important matters to tend to," you said, your tone firm yet careful.

He chuckled—a low, deliberate sound that made your stomach twist. "Important matters? None more important than you, Doctor. In fact—" His smirk widened, and he patted his lap with mock invitation. "Why don't you sit here? We could get much closer that way."

The air seemed to thin as his words settled between you. Your nails dug into the clipboard, anchoring yourself as your mind raced. You couldn't let him see your terror, couldn't let him sense the way your heart thundered wildly against your ribs. The Chairman's words replayed in your mind like a sinister mantra: Don't offend him.

Keeping your mask intact, you summoned a professional smile that felt like glass ready to shatter. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Zhou, but I'll have to decline. Maintaining the proper distance helps ensure I do my job effectively. I'm sure you understand."

His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, sharper this time. He leaned back, his gaze cutting through you like a blade. "Always so professional," he mused, his voice dripping with mockery. "That's why I enjoy our time together. The chase makes it all the more satisfying."

The bile rising in your throat threatened to choke you, but you pushed it down and turned your focus to the clipboard, setting it on the table beside him. With painstaking precision, you prepared the syringe, your hands trembling ever so slightly despite your effort to steady them.

As you approached him, Zhou tilted his head, his lips curling into a twisted smile. "You know, Doctor," he drawled, his voice laced with faux sweetness, "if you'd just relax, we could have so much fun together. Don't you ever get tired of being so... rigid?"

Your pulse roared in your ears, but you forced an even tone. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Zhou," you said softly, looping the tourniquet around his arm with methodical care. "But my focus is on ensuring your health and well-being. I take that responsibility very seriously."

His chuckle was slow and ominous, the sound of a predator circling prey. His narrowed eyes glinted with something dark as he watched you lean in to draw his blood. "You're a tough one, aren't you?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "I like that. But you know... everyone breaks eventually."

Before you could process his words, his arm shot out, the syringe slipping from your grasp as a gasp escaped your lips. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your waist and yanked you onto his lap, his grip iron-tight.

"Come on, darling," he whispered, his breath brushing against your ear as his tone turned sickeningly sweet. "How much longer are you going to play hard to get, hm?"

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For the first time in what felt like years, Yunho's mask of calm nearly cracked. He stood frozen at the gap in the door, his breath catching as he registered the scene before him. This wasn't what he had expected when he decided to drop by and observe you at work—hoping to glean insights about your habits, preferences, and perhaps the best way to approach you.

But this?

This was a nightmare come to life.

His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the rage coursing through him threatening to spill over. It was all he could do to keep his breathing steady. The sight of you, trapped in Zhou's grasp, was a brutal reminder of the powerlessness he once endured. It dredged up memories he thought he had buried—moments when he, too, had been forced to endure, unable to fight back, unable to say no. But while his pain had been physical, yours was a violation of an entirely different kind.

This wasn't just wrong; it was unforgivable.

The injustice of it all burned in his chest, but the Enforcer swallowed the fury. Letting his emotions take over now would do neither of you any good. He needed to act, but carefully. With a steadying breath, he placed a hand on the door handle, forcing a bright, innocent smile onto his face.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, his voice casual and warm, masking the storm within. "Hey, doc, I hope I'm not interrupting, but I—" He paused mid-sentence, pretending to notice the scene before him for the first time. His performance was flawless, his jaw dropping in mock surprise as his eyes widened.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, striding forward with just the right mix of alarm and authority. "What the hell is going on in here?!"

In one fluid motion, he crossed the room and reached for you, prying you free from Zhou's grip with a practised ease. You stumbled into him, trembling, your tear-filled eyes locking onto his face. If you weren't so shaken, you might have seen through his act, might have caught the cold fury simmering beneath his polished facade. But in that moment, all you could feel was the safety his presence suddenly offered.

Zhou shot up from his seat, his narrowed eyes blazing with irritation. "Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here?" he growled, his tone laced with barely contained anger.

Yunho ignored him entirely, his focus solely on you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but loud enough for the Chinese bastard to hear. He placed himself firmly between you and the criminal, his broad frame shielding you. "Did the patient get out of control? This is exactly what I warned about—no security for the psychologists? It's unacceptable!" His tone carried a sharp edge, each word a carefully veiled reminder to Zhou that, here, he was just a patient. Nothing more.

Zhou's jaw tightened, recognition dawning in his eyes. He knew exactly who Yunho was—everyone did. The new security consultant hired to oversee operations, though none of the real players dared to let him in on the darker truths of the facility. The man was an outsider, and Zhou knew better than to draw unnecessary attention to himself now.

"I-I'm fine, Mr. Lee," you managed, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound composed. Your hand gripped Yunho's wrist as if it were a lifeline, grounding yourself through the chaos. "Mr. Zhou just... has his episodes, but he's harmless."

Zhou's smirk returned, though it was thinner now, less certain. The irritation in his eyes was clear as he reached for the nurse call button, signalling for someone to remove this 'disruption.' For all his arrogance, he knew better than to risk crossing a line in front of the taller man.

Yunho glanced back at you, his eyes softening for just a moment before returning to Zhou, cold and unyielding. "Episodes or not, no one should have to deal with this alone," he said firmly. "I'll make sure the Chairman hears about this."

His words were a warning, a subtle reminder that Zhou wasn't untouchable. And for the first time in that suffocating ward, you felt like someone was truly in your corner.

You didn't wait for the nurse to arrive. The moment the Enforcer had diverted Zhou's attention, you made a swift exit, clutching the clipboard to your chest like a shield. The stark, sterile hallways blurred as your legs carried you on autopilot, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You didn't stop until you reached the safety of your small office, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with trembling hands.

Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as you leaned against the door, the clipboard slipping from your grasp and clattering to the floor. Shoulders quaking with silent sobs, you bit down hard on your lip to stifle any sound. You couldn't afford to break here—not now.

The knock came so suddenly that you flinched, a small gasp escaping your lips.

"Hey," Stefano Lee's voice called through the door, calm yet resolute. "Open up."

Your pulse spiked again, panic flaring anew. The last thing you wanted was to face him—not like this, with tear-streaked cheeks and shattered composure.

"I'm fine," you managed to call back, though your voice trembled, betraying your facade.

"I'm not going anywhere until you let me in," he replied firmly, though a thread of unrelenting patience was woven into his tone.

For a moment, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the lock. Maybe if you stayed silent, he'd give up. But deep down, you knew better. With a reluctant sigh, you undid the lock and cracked the door open just enough for him to see you.

His expression softened instantly. "Can I come in?" he asked gently.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. His presence wasn't going to change anything—you wouldn't let it—but at least you could hear him out. That much you owed him. He closed the door softly behind him, leaning back against it as his eyes swept over you in silence. Arms crossed, his gaze—once so warm—was now edged with an intensity that made you shrink under its weight.

"What the hell was that back there?" he asked finally, his voice low but laced with restrained anger. "Why didn't you stop him? Or report him? You can't let him get away with treating you like that."

You turned away, busying yourself with the scattered papers on your desk. "It's not that simple," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

"Not that simple?" His voice rose slightly, tinged with disbelief. "You're a doctor. You shouldn't have to—"

"I can't," you snapped, spinning around to face him. Tears welled in your eyes, finally breaking free as your voice cracked under the pressure. "You don't understand."

"Then help me understand," he urged, his tone softening as he took a step closer. "Explain it to me."

You shook your head, arms wrapping tightly around yourself as if to hold your crumbling composure together. "Some people don't have a choice," you whispered, the words dripping with quiet despair. "Some of us... we're here because we have to be."

Yunho froze, the weight of your words sinking in as realisation dawned. Now it made sense—the resilience in your eyes despite the exhaustion, the quiet compliance in a place that didn't deserve you. The depths of this place's corruption ran deeper than he'd thought. "What do you mean?" he pressed, though his voice was quieter now.

You didn't answer directly. Instead, your tearful gaze met his, pleading silently for him to drop the matter. "Please," you whispered, your voice shaking. "Don't get involved. Just stay out of my business. And leave me and my mentor out of yours."

His jaw clenched, his fists curling tightly at his sides as he wrestled with the storm of emotions brewing inside him. He wanted to demand answers, to tell you no one should live like this, but the raw fear in your expression stopped him cold.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "Fine," he said, his voice even but tinged with steel. "But I want you to know I'm not letting this go."

Your head shot up, alarm flashing in your eyes. "No," you said firmly, stepping toward him. "You have to. If you do anything, they'll—"

"I won't do anything reckless," he interrupted, his tone steady and measured. "I won't let anything happen to you or your mentor. But this?" He gestured vaguely around the room, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This isn't right. And I need you to know that what you've told me has only strengthened my resolve to infiltrate this place. Listen to me—what we're doing is to bring this place down."

You stared at him, torn between the flicker of hope his words ignited and the harsh reality you'd been enduring for so long. Slowly, you shook your head, tears slipping down your face. "You don't understand... Stefano," you whispered, the name barely audible.

He paused, his expression softening for the briefest moment. "Yunho," he corrected gently, his voice low. Your eyes widened slightly at the revelation, and he continued, "My name is Yunho. And I want you to know that what I'm offering you is a way out."

You exhaled shakily, closing your eyes for a moment as his words hung heavy in the air. You knew false hope when you saw it, and you didn't want someone like him to be crushed by the weight of his own naivety. You didn't know who he really was or who he worked for, but the way he had defended you spoke volumes about his character. He wasn't like the others here. "Okay, Yunho..." you murmured softly, your voice tinged with weary resignation. "But I need you to know that you won't succeed. There's more to this place than you could ever imagine. Trust me when I say you're only going to make things worse—for yourself and for your team."

He opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the anguish in your eyes stopped him cold. The pain etched across your face was enough to silence any retort. He nodded once, his expression shifting to one of quiet determination. "I understand that nothing I say will change your mind right now," he said firmly. "I'll step back for now. But I'm not giving up on you. Just... remember that."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. The silence that followed was deafening. Slowly, you sank into your chair, burying your face in your hands as the full weight of everything came crashing down, pressing heavily on your chest.

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"Here's what you asked for," the Phantom said, tossing the files labelled with your name onto Yunho's desk. His gaze was sharp, unwavering. "I hope you haven't forgotten your main objective, because ever since meeting her, it almost feels like you have."

Yunho exhaled a slow breath, reaching for the file and flipping it open without hesitation. "Thanks, Yeo. I know you're worried, but trust me—once I convince her, she'll be a huge asset to us."

"When you convince her?" Yeosang challenged, leaning forward over the desk, eyes narrowing. "And when exactly is that supposed to happen, Yunho?"

The Enforcer rubbed his temple, exhaustion creeping into his voice. "Soon, my brother. I have no intention of letting Hongjoong hyung down—just as much as you. I know I've strayed from the original plan, but I'll set things right… with her help. And for the record, she won't be a distraction."

Yeosang let out a quiet sigh, his expression unreadable. He didn't argue further, merely giving a slow, reluctant nod before turning to leave. Just as he reached the door, he muttered under his breath, "I think she already has."

Yunho leaned back in his chair as soon as his brother was gone, flipping through the file with practised ease. His sharp eyes scanned the neatly typed lines, but it wasn't the information that initially caught his attention—it was your photo.

A small, inexplicable smile tugged at his lips as he studied the image. It was you, younger and unburdened, a spark of passion gleaming in your eyes. The confidence was the same, but there was something different—something brighter. This version of you radiated ambition, the kind of fire that belonged to someone ready to take on the world. It was almost unsettling to compare it to the person he had come to know.

The you he now knew still carried confidence, but it was subdued, weighed down by something invisible yet undeniably heavy. Behind your carefully composed exterior, there was exhaustion, an ever-present weariness hidden beneath layers of restraint. He had noticed it before but never thought much of it—until now.

Flipping through the pages, he absorbed everything. Your education, your qualifications—he committed them to memory effortlessly, piecing together an image of who you had been before joining Prestige. He could almost see it: you, bent over textbooks, scribbling down notes, fueled by a dream to make a difference.

His gaze lingered on the section about your family. Supportive parents, a stable upbringing—something he himself never had. A mentor who had guided you toward success. Yunho exhaled quietly. He was glad you had people who cared for you, yet the more he read, the more things didn't add up.

Then he found it. The moment you and Dr Sergei Ivanov had been recruited into Prestige Asylum. Everything seemed normal at first—until it wasn't. Not long after joining, the both of you had attempted to resign. Yunho's brows furrowed as he skimmed ahead, expecting to find an explanation. But there was nothing.

The resignation had never gone through.

Instead, both of you have continued working at the wretched institution up to the present day. That alone wasn't what unsettled him most—it was the fact that from the moment of that failed resignation, neither of you had seen your families since.

Yunho's jaw tightened. He didn't need to see the missing details to guess what had happened. He had seen this before, in different forms, under different circumstances. Prestige Asylum had buried the truth, manipulated the narrative. He had no doubt that whatever had taken place was the reason for the exhaustion in your eyes, the anxiety lurking beneath your composed demeanour.

But what exactly had happened?

He closed the file, fingers tapping against the cover in thought. He could make assumptions, but assumptions weren't enough. He needed confirmation. He needed the truth. And now, it seemed like you were the only one who could give it to him.

But it won't be easy.

Yunho had expected many things. He had expected frustration, dead ends, and the constant need to reassess his approach. What he hadn't expected, however, was for you to be the one to break first.

After your last conversation, he had made the difficult decision to leave you alone, to respect your plea and to keep his distance. Keeping Yeosang's words in mind, he had thrown himself back into his task, digging for evidence the Black Pirates could use to expose Prestige Asylum for what it truly was. But time and time again, he met disappointment. The asylum was airtight, designed to keep outsiders from uncovering its secrets. Despite his best efforts under his security consultant cover, all he had managed to gather were fragments—not nearly enough to bring Ryoichi Sato down. If only you had chosen to help him, he could have made real progress.

But he remembered the desperation in your voice when you had begged him to leave you and your mentor alone. And despite his own firm words, he waged an internal war, wondering if he should do as you asked. If leaving you alone was truly the right thing to do.

Unbeknownst to him, his absence had unsettled you more than you cared to admit. Even though you had been the one to ask him to stay away, you had found yourself watching him as he worked, seeing the way his frustration grew at the lack of progress. You saw the way his shoulders tensed as he left the asylum each day, his patience wearing thin.

His words echoed in your mind, refusing to be silenced.

"I'm not asking you to betray anyone. I'm asking you to work with us. Help us take down the Chairman, and in return, we'll make sure you come out of this unscathed."

At the time, the idea of helping him had seemed foolish, reckless even. But after your recent encounter with Zhou, you feared things were only going to get worse. Had it not been for Yunho, you didn't even want to think about what could have happened. Staying here and obeying orders guaranteed your family's safety for now, but Sato was a snake—who was to say he wouldn't turn on you and Dr Ivanov the moment you became disposable?

The thought of aiding Yunho in taking Prestige down had once seemed ridiculous. But what if it was your only chance at freedom?

You had seen the way he had fought for you, the way he had looked at you—not with pity, but with anger on your behalf. It had changed something in you. He had finally given you his real name. And maybe that had been the final push you needed.

So now, here he was, sitting before you in your office as you carefully pushed the files toward him. Documents filled with fabricated diagnoses and records of transactions that proved what he had suspected all along—Prestige Asylum was a shield for the wealthy and corrupt, a place where justice was bought and buried.

He stared at the papers as disbelief settled in. "What's this?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual, laced with restrained shock.

You exhaled slowly, arms crossing over your chest as if to shield yourself from what you were about to do. "Evidence you've been trying to uncover all this time but couldn't. It's not enough to take the place down, but it's something. These contain information on the patients I was assigned, at least. There are more that I have yet—"

"Thank you."

His voice was firm yet sincere, cutting you off before you could finish. Your breath hitched slightly at the way he looked at you—no gloating, no smug satisfaction, just quiet gratitude. It was disarming.

You looked away, suddenly feeling exposed. "Don't thank me yet. This… this doesn't mean anything."

Yunho tilted his head slightly, studying you. "Does it really not?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. Maybe it did. Maybe it meant more than you were ready to admit.

You had convinced yourself that you were only doing this to return the favour, to repay the debt you felt you owed him after what he had done for you. But deep down, you knew it wasn't just that.

It was the way you had seen him struggle, the way he kept pushing forward despite how difficult it was. It was the way he had saved you without hesitation, how he had looked at you like you were more than just another cog in the machine of Prestige Asylum.

And maybe, just maybe, it was because, for the first time in a long time, you wanted to believe in something again.

He carefully gathered the files, his fingers ghosting over the pages before he met your gaze once more. "This is a start."

You nodded, still uncertain, still afraid. But for the first time, you weren't entirely unwilling.

And that was enough—for now.

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Time passed, though neither of you ever acknowledged the change.

There had been no formal agreement, no spoken confirmation, but it was there—a silent understanding that you and Yunho were now working together.

You continued your daily routine, performing your duties with the same composure as always, but now with a purpose beyond survival. Every session, every document, every exchange within the asylum was another opportunity to collect evidence. Yunho, on the other hand, went on with his investigations under the guise of Prestige Asylum's new security consultant, but his work had become more efficient, more precise—because now, he had an insider.

And you had finally learned everything about him.

"I'm the Enforcer of the Black Pirates."

That was all he had to say for you to immediately understand.

The Black Pirates were no ordinary syndicate. Their name alone sent ripples through the underworld, spoken of in hushed, wary tones by the high-profile criminals this institution harboured. Ruthless, strategic, and feared, they had built a reputation as one of the most formidable forces in the underground.

At least, until recently.

Rumours had spread through the asylum—criminals whispering about the gang's latest struggles. They had become the newest target of the up-and-coming White Serpents, a rising syndicate that had been making waves with their brutal and unpredictable tactics. It wasn't just idle gossip; even Sato had taken notice.

If only these criminals, if only Ryoichi Sato himself, knew that one of the Black Pirates was now walking among them, quietly dismantling their precious asylum from the inside. You wondered if they would still be so smug.

Knowing who Yunho truly was brought you an odd sense of reassurance. It wasn't that you trusted him completely—not yet—but his reputation spoke for itself. If he had come this far, if his people had been able to shake even the strongest criminal empires, then perhaps—just perhaps—he could pull this off.

But there was still a risk.

You knew what would happen if the Chairman discovered your betrayal. Prestige did not tolerate disloyalty. You had seen firsthand what happened to those who had outlived their usefulness, to those who dared to resist. Even now, you and Dr Ivanov were still trapped in this place because of one failed attempt to leave.

And yet…

For the first time in years, your fate was in your own hands. You realised now that if you continued to stay put, this nightmare would never end. Sato would keep tightening his hold, keep pulling the strings, keep ensuring that neither you nor the head psychologist would ever see your families again.

Perhaps it was time to do something about it. For your family. For Dr Ivanov and his family. For yourself. And for the first time, that thought didn't terrify you. It gave you hope.

Hope.

A cruel, fragile thing.

It wavered in your chest as you stared down at the worn photograph in your hands, your parents' smiling faces frozen in time. You traced their features with your fingertips, your vision blurring with unshed tears. It had been so long since you'd seen them, so long since you had felt the warmth of home.

And now, you were about to write them another letter. Another carefully crafted lie. Another excuse about why you couldn't return home yet. Another attempt to reassure them that you were safe when, in reality, you had never felt more trapped.

Will this be the last time?

The thought lodged itself painfully in your mind. You wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe that this was the last time you'd have to lie to them, the last time you'd have to pretend that everything was fine, now that you had a plan—Yunho's plan.

But even as you forced yourself to write, exhaustion seeped into your bones, weighing heavier than ever. You were tired—so, so tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of surviving instead of living. Tired of never knowing if you would ever be free again.

The first tear fell before you could stop it.

Then another.

And soon, they wouldn't stop.

Goddamnit, where is she?

Yunho wandered through the dimly lit halls, searching for you. It had become routine—this quiet, unspoken agreement between you. Every evening before he left, he would find you, collect whatever evidence you had managed to obtain that day, exchange a few words, and then go on his way.

But today, your office was empty.

You had left him the files, as usual, stashed in the hidden corner you had designated in case you weren't around. Technically, he had no reason to linger. His job was done for the day.

And yet, something didn't sit right.

Your absence unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain. His mind raced with possibilities. What if something had happened to you? What if Zhou had gotten to you again? What if—

Shaking the thought away, he signalled for his driver to leave the compound, ensuring it looked as though he had left. Then, moving with the stealth he had long mastered, he slipped back inside. The unease gnawed at him as he searched.

You weren't with the patients. That, at least, was a relief.

Still, the asylum was vast, and the deeper he ventured, the heavier the silence became. It wasn't until he reached the abandoned wing that he finally found you. Sitting alone. Crying.

There you are.

His footsteps were nearly soundless as he approached, but somehow, you still sensed him. Your body tensed before you abruptly turned, raising a fist in pure reflex. He caught your wrist before you could strike, his grip firm but not forceful.

"Relax," he murmured gently, his voice softer than you expected. "It's me."

The tension in your muscles unravelled as you exhaled a shaky breath, turning away almost instantly. You wiped at your eyes in a futile attempt to erase the evidence of your tears, but you knew it was useless. He had already seen.

"Why are you still here?" you asked, your voice thick with emotion, your fingers tightening around the photograph in your lap.

Instead of answering right away, the man lowered himself beside you, close enough that his warmth pressed against the cool air of the abandoned wing. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands loosely intertwined.

"You weren't in your office, and I... just wanted to make sure you were alright," he whispered.

A lump formed in your throat at his sincerity. You sniffled, rubbing at your nose as you tried to keep your voice steady. "I'm fine."

He let out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. "Are you, though?"

You didn't respond. You didn't have to.

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It lingered, heavy but strangely grounding.

Your gaze dropped to the photograph still trembling in your hands. He followed your line of sight, his eyes softening as he took in the faded edges, the familiar smiles frozen in time. After a beat, he dared to ask, "Your parents? Are they… safe?"

You hesitated before giving a small nod. But there was no relief in your expression, no weight lifted from your shoulders. "They are… for now." Your voice was quiet, almost fragile. "So long as I stay here like a good dog, they will be."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but you caught it.

That was all he needed to hear.

His jaw tightened, fingers curling into fists against his thighs. He had suspected you were trapped here, but now, he understood just how deep the chains ran. The safety of your loved ones bound you to this place. And somehow, that realisation cut deeper than he expected.

Yunho had seen people held captive in many ways before—by fear, by greed, by debt, by loyalty. But this? This was different.

Because it was you.

The quiet between you stretched, but neither of you felt the need to fill it. Instead, he slowly, cautiously, let his fingers relax. Then, without thinking, he reached out—not forcefully, not expectantly, but just enough for his knuckles to brush against yours where they still clutched the photograph.

A silent offer. A quiet anchor.

You didn't pull away. For the first time, you let the warmth of his presence seep into the cracks of your exhaustion.

The Enforcer's resolve solidified.

Prestige Asylum had to fall. Not just for his mission. Not just for the Black Pirates. But for you.

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As your quiet alliance with Yunho deepened, it was only a matter of time before your mentor noticed.

Dr Ivanov had always been observant. Each evening, he watched with furrowed brows as Stefano Lee left your office before departing the compound. It had happened too many times now to be a coincidence. The Russian psychologist had been aware that the so-called security consultant wasn't who he claimed to be, but now a more pressing concern took root.

Was he coercing you into helping him? Was he threatening you?

The thought weighed on him until he finally decided to confront you. He waited until he was sure the taller man was gone, then made his way to your office, knocking firmly before pushing the door open at your soft "Come in." But the moment he heard your next words, he knew. He had been wrong.

"Back so soon? Did you forget something again?"

Your words faltered when your eyes lifted to meet his as realisation struck—this wasn't the charming gang member. It was your mentor. And in that single second, Ivanov saw it in your face. You had been willingly meeting with the man.

A long sigh left the elderly man as he stepped inside. "So, you gave in?"

You quickly rose from your seat, bowing your head slightly. "Sir, I can explain."

And you did. You told him everything—how Yunho had saved you, the truth about who he really was, and the fact that he wasn't just any gang member, but the Enforcer of the Black Pirates. Throughout it all, Ivanov listened in silence, his expression unreadable. But as you spoke, something in your voice softened. You reassured him that Yunho wasn't like the criminals you both dealt with every day.

He wasn't like them.

"His real name is—"

"No." His firm response stopped you short, and for a moment, your heart sank. But then, he surprised you. His lips quirked into the smallest of smiles.

"He entrusted you with his name, not me," the head psychologist murmured. "Protect it the way he protected you."

The tension in your shoulders eased. That was all you needed to know. Your mentor understood. Without another word, he took the seat across from you, silently offering his support. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren't alone in this.

"I will, sir."

Back at the Black Pirates' mansion, Yunho strode down the dimly lit corridors, heading for his room after leaving the day's evidence with the Captain. Just as he reached for the doorknob, his fingers brushed against something small in his pocket.

Frowning, he pulled it out—and a quiet chuckle slipped past his lips.

A candy.

The memory resurfaced immediately.

Earlier that day, his gaze had drifted to the glass bowl of sweets on your desk. "You know," he mused with amusement, "it almost feels like the amount never lessens. Who are these even for, doc?"

You smirked, leaning back in your chair as you plucked one up. "They're for patients I like. But… as you can see, there aren't many I'm capable of liking here. Or even at all." The smirk didn't last. Reality had a way of dimming those small flickers of humour.

Before you could react, he swiped the candy from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for the briefest second. Your breath hitched. "Wha—"

"I may not be a patient," he grinned, tucking it into his pocket, "but I can be your favourite."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You wish." His smile lingered as he turned away, the candy now his.

"Oh, great. Not you too."

A deep voice pulled him from his thoughts. He pushed the candy back into his pocket and turned to face the source.

Song Mingi.

The Firestarter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. Yunho's expression darkened. He had grown tired of the man's recent jabs, the barely veiled resentment in his voice. "Enough, Mingi," he said, voice low and cutting. "Let's not be hypocrites."

Mingi stiffened slightly as his best friend took a step forward. "Don't start this bullshit unless you can clean up your own mess and cut off your new lady friend too." His smirk faded.

"Everyone here is doing their best," the Enforcer continued. "And if you have nothing to contribute except complaints, shut up. We all know you're in the same damn shoes. No one calls you out on it out of respect, so don't take that for granted. Don't take the anger of your own failure out on the rest of us."

Mingi's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. With that, Yunho turned and disappeared into his room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Silence stretched between the remaining brothers. And for once, the Firestarter had nothing to say. Yunho knew you were never supposed to be part of his mission. But unlike his hyungs, he wasn't blind to reality. This wasn't a distraction. You weren't a distraction. His protectiveness over you wasn't a weakness—it was fuel. A reason to push harder, to move faster.

Because if he succeeded in bringing Prestige Asylum and Ryoichi Sato down, he wouldn't just be completing his mission.

He'd be setting you free.

And he would see that through, no matter what.

That determination only strengthened as he returned to the asylum the next day. This mission had always been about taking down Sato, about gathering enough evidence to expose Prestige for what it truly was. But now, as he walked through the cold, sterile halls, he knew his purpose had expanded. He wasn't just here for the mission anymore. He was here for you. And that purpose solidified when he saw you break.

It started with an uneasy feeling. You weren't in your office. That alone unsettled him. Even on difficult days, you always managed to be where you needed to be. But not today.

His gut twisted as he searched through the institution, his steps quick but calculated, ignoring the wary glances from passing staff. By the time he reached the more secluded wing of the building, a faint sound stopped him in his tracks.

A choked, muffled sob.

He followed the sound until he reached the door of the female washroom. Pushing it open, he stepped inside—and there you were.

Standing before the mirror, gripping the sink as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. Your white doctor's coat was discarded at the side. Your sleeves were pushed up, revealing fresh burns marring your arms—small, circular wounds that made his blood run cold. Yunho felt the breath leave his lungs.

Cigarette burns.

Yunho's breath stilled. His hands curled into fists, knuckles white with barely contained fury. He had fought and bled through enough hellish places to recognise the work of a sadist when he saw it—because once upon a time, he had been on the receiving end of that same cruelty. The scars on his own body were proof. And he didn't need to ask who had done this to you.

Zhou.

That fucking bastard.

The anger roared in his veins, an unrelenting storm demanding vengeance, but he forced it down—for now. Because this wasn't about him. This was about you. And right now, you didn't need revenge.

You needed someone.

He moved slowly, careful not to startle you. His reflection joined yours in the mirror, but you remained unmoving, lost in a world of pain he could only imagine. It wasn't until he was close enough that you finally spoke, your voice fragile and raw.

"I... I refused him again. And he was furious."

His chest tightened.

Without thinking, his fingers ghosted over your wrist, an instinctive need to comfort—but the moment you flinched, he stopped, his heart twisting as you whimpered, "No... don't look at me. I'm ashamed to face you... or anyone."

The Enforcer exhaled, his jaw tightening as he fought the ache in his throat. Ashamed? The thought of you—someone so strong, so resilient—believing you had something to be ashamed of made his blood run cold.

"And why should you be ashamed?" he asked softly.

Your voice broke. "Because I'm weak."

A pained smile tugged at the corner of his lips. A smile that held years of unspoken memories, buried wounds that had never fully healed. "Then I guess I am too."

Your blurry eyes lifted to meet his in the mirror, confusion flickering through your exhausted expression. Before you could ask, he quietly unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt.

Your breath hitched.

Faded scars marred his chest—old burns, some shaped like the ones on your arms, others deeper, more jagged. Wounds left by cruel hands, by people who should have protected him.

"I was once young and defenceless, beaten and abused by the people I called my parents, all because I was the product of an accident, an unplanned birth," he admitted, voice steady but heavy. "I spent my teenage years committing petty crimes, drifting through life aimlessly because I believed I didn't deserve any better. I thought I was ruined… so I accepted my fate."

You stared at him, your own pain momentarily forgotten as you listened.

"But my leader found me. He taught me that it wasn't my fault. That sometimes, no matter how strong we try to be, we need someone to pull us out of it. He was that person for me." He took a step closer, his voice softer now, but no less firm. "And now… I just want you to know that you don't have to be strong all the time."

You finally turned to face him fully.

"Let someone else carry the weight for once." His voice was a whisper now, but it reached you in ways nothing else had. "I'm here now."

Something inside you broke. For years, you had carried the weight of your suffering alone. You had built walls, convinced yourself that no one could—or would—save you. But standing here, with him, someone who knew what it was like to be trapped in suffering, who understood what it meant to survive…

The walls cracked.

A shaky breath left your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him. And Yunho, without hesitation, held you up.

He didn't promise that things would be okay. He didn't tell you to be strong. He simply stayed, steady and unyielding, silently promising that, for once, you weren't alone. For the first time in years, you let someone share your burden. And for the first time in years, he let someone see the scars he no longer hid behind.

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"This won't do. The evidence we've been collecting—I fear it won't be enough to take Prestige down completely. Even if we leak it to the authorities, Sato and all his friends feigning mental illness here will find a way to twist the narrative. They'll deny everything until the very end," Yunho said, his voice low but resolute.

He sat across from you in your office, a familiar sight by now. Yet, something had changed ever since that day in the washroom. Neither of you had spoken about it, but it was there—in the way his visits stretched longer, in the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, in the way your gazes held more than just strategy.

Something unspoken lingered between you, but neither of you acknowledged it. Perhaps because you both knew the circumstances wouldn't allow for more. Nothing more than this.

You bit your lip, hesitating.

Now was the time.

For days, you had debated whether or not to tell him. At first, you had kept it to yourself for his safety, or maybe it was for your own. You weren't sure anymore. But when you had told him he didn't know the full extent of Sato's operations, you had meant it.

"I…" Your voice wavered. "I do have something. Something that could destroy this place completely if it gets out."

He leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "But?"

Your fingers curled into fists. "I have no evidence, Yunho. Sato is incredibly careful, he—"

Without hesitation, he reached across the desk, covering your trembling hand with his. His warmth steadied you, grounding you in the moment.

"Don't worry about him or the evidence," he said, voice steady, reassuring. "That's what I'm here for. Just tell me. Tell me everything you know about this place."

You swallowed hard, the weight of your secrets pressing down on you. But then his grip tightened ever so slightly—an unspoken promise. "You trust me, right?" he asked, his voice softer now.

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes dissolving the last bit of doubt within you.

"I do."

Thanks to your help, Yunho's gaze stayed locked on the Chairman's office later that night, perched like a throne atop the highest floor of the main building. The faint glow seeping through the curtains barely touched the darkness of the night, but it was enough. Somewhere in that room lay the final, undeniable proof to expose Sato—and tonight, he was going to get it.

Rolling his shoulders, he tugged on his gloves, loosening his tie before throwing Yeosang a nod. "I'll leave the Records Room to you."

The Phantom smirked, tightening the straps of his gear. "This little birdie of yours best not be lying."

Yunho's jaw flexed, the protectiveness in his tone sharp. "She's not."

His brother only shrugged, adjusting his weapons before melting into the shadows. "She better not be."

With a roll of his eyes, the Enforcer turned on his heel, striding toward the Chairman's office while Yeosang vanished over the fences with practised ease. He would scour the second-best place for evidence while Yunho infiltrated the most heavily guarded room in the entire asylum. And if the security around it was that tight, there had to be a damn good reason.

And thus, the grand mission began.

Organ harvesting.

That was the truth you had given him.

Prestige Asylum wasn't just a sanctuary for criminals—it was a slaughterhouse. Yunho had seen his fair share of horrors, had waded through the filth of the underworld more times than he could count. But this? This was something else. This was monstrous. The criminals who sought refuge here weren't just evaluated by their wealth and influence. They were examined. Categorised. Sorted like cattle. The weak, the old, the ones who had nothing left to offer? They were marked. Stripped of their dignity. Stripped of their parts.

Organs—harvested, sold, and shipped off to the highest bidder.

Sato wasn't just sheltering scum.

He was butchering them.

And Yunho felt no pity for these bastards—not when their own sins had led them here. But the sheer scale of it, the grotesque efficiency, the cold, methodical way human bodies were treated as nothing more than a product—it made his stomach churn with disgust he hadn't felt in years.

And yet, in all its horror, this was perfect.

Because this was the key to bringing it all down. With solid proof, it wouldn't just be the authorities coming for Ryoichi Sato. It would be his own people. The criminals who had thought they were safe, who had paid their way into this fortress of false security, would come to a sickening realisation. They were never guests. They were inventory.

And once the truth came out, Prestige wouldn't just fall.

It would burn.

"Wait, what are you going to do now?"

Your voice echoed in Yunho's mind as he moved silently through the shadows, each step deliberate, every muscle coiled with purpose. The asylum was still, save for the occasional flicker of a distant security light. His target was near, but for a fleeting moment, his thoughts strayed—to you.

Unlike his usual self, he didn't know why he did it, but he found himself pausing. Just for a second. Just long enough to glance down at the darkened window of your office. A faint smile tugged at his lips. Were you already asleep in your quarters? Would you be furious if you knew what he was doing now? He wondered how you'd react—if you'd scold him, if you'd worry, if you'd care.

Care about him the way he cared about you.

His heartbeat stuttered at the thought, at the memory of you grasping his arm before he could leave your office earlier that evening. The genuine concern in your eyes, the slight tremble in your voice—it had made something tighten in his chest.

You were worried for him.

For him.

He could still feel the warmth of your touch, the way his hand instinctively covered yours, his thumb brushing against your skin in silent reassurance. He shouldn't have lingered, but he did. And then, for some godforsaken reason, he had winked at you, teasing, "Don't worry about it, doc. You've done all you could, and for that, I thank you. I'll take care of the rest now."

You hadn't let go.

And for a moment—just a moment—the two of you had stood there, locked in a wordless exchange that spoke louder than anything either of you could say aloud. Then he had made the mistake of looking down.

Your lips.

His resolve had nearly crumbled. He had fought everything in him to tear his gaze away, forcing himself to meet your eyes again—eyes that were no longer guarded, no longer dismissive like when you first met. No, there was a fire in them now.

And god, he liked seeing that fire.

"You better, Jung Yunho."

He had nearly groaned at the way his name sounded coming from you, low and daring. He had bitten his lip, eyes dark with unspoken thoughts before murmuring, "I promise."

And then he left—because if he hadn't, he might have done something foolish.

Now, as he shook off the memory and refocused on his mission, he felt it. The fire in you had ignited something in him too. And no matter what happened tonight, he would keep his promise.

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Yunho moved like a shadow, slipping past guards who might as well have been mannequins for all the use they were. Years of training with the Phantom had honed him into a ghost, his presence undetectable, his steps soundless. If anyone so much as blinked at the wrong moment, they'd never know he had been there at all.

The Chairman's office loomed ahead, its grand double doors guarded by two men who stood with stiff professionalism. But the Enforcer had seen better security in cheap nightclubs. A well-timed distraction—a small device flicked across the hall, producing a distant clatter—was all it took for them to step away, momentarily distracted. That was his cue. He was inside within seconds.

And he almost laughed.

That was it? Just the usual lock-picking technique? The great Ryoichi Sato, mastermind of this entire operation, was brought down by a few turns of a pick? Yunho had expected retina scanners, biometric safes, maybe even a hidden security system, but this?

Pathetic.

Shaking off his disbelief, he got to work, rifling through drawers, scanning bookshelves, even running his hands along the edges of furniture for hidden compartments. He found a safe tucked behind an abstract painting and smirked.

This was the real challenge.

Except it wasn't.

A few code attempts later—birthdates, the asylum's founding year, a few numbers from the invoices he found—and the safe clicked open. His grin vanished the second he saw what was inside.

Gold bars. Stacks of cash. A few vaguely worded invoices.

Nothing useful.

Yunho inhaled sharply, a spark of frustration lighting in his chest. This wasn't enough. They needed something undeniable, something that would expose Sato for what he truly was—a butcher masquerading as a saviour. Not meaningless transactions.

He was running out of places to search. And time.

Just as he was about to leave and search elsewhere, his fingers brushed against something buried in one of the lower drawers. He pulled it out, his breath catching slightly. A photograph.

You, smiling with your parents.

His fingers curled tightly around it as he pulled out another one. Dr Ivanov, standing with his wife and child.

Fuckin' bastard.

A sharp surge of anger coursed through him, his grip on the photos tightening. He wanted to tear them apart, to destroy the reason you're trapped in this godforsaken place. But before he could act on the impulse, a soft knock echoed through the room.

He froze. His head whipped around, every muscle tensed, every sense heightened. Had he been caught? Had the guards finally realised something was wrong?

Then, he heard it—faint but familiar. "It's me. Find a way to open this secret passage. You're in for a surprise."

Yeosang.

Yunho exhaled sharply, his heartbeat steadying as he turned toward the sound. The bookshelf near the far wall shifted slightly, as if someone was pushing from the other side. A hidden passage?

Without wasting another second, he ran his hands along the wood, searching for a mechanism. It took a few tries—pressing at different spots, pulling at certain books—until finally, something clicked. The shelf groaned as it slowly swung open, revealing a dimly lit passageway.

And there stood the Phantom, arms crossed, an infuriatingly smug grin tugging at his lips. "Seems Dr Prude wasn't lying after all."

Yunho scoffed, stepping forward. "Told you so."

With that, the brothers disappeared into the darkness below. The taller man raised a brow as he stepped into the dimly lit chamber, taking in the scene before him.

The ground was littered with bodies—some unconscious, thanks to Yeosang, and others far beyond saving. The criminals who had foolishly sought refuge in Prestige lay sprawled on cold metal tables, their chests crudely opened, the sickly scent of antiseptic failing to mask the underlying stench of blood and decay. It was clear that mere minutes ago, this room had been alive with activity—surgeons slicing, nurses assisting, transactions being made in hushed voices—until the Phantom arrived and ended it all in an instant.

"Impressive," Yunho muttered, nudging one of the unconscious workers with his boot.

The Phantom shrugged as if it were nothing. "They weren't even that skilled. Hardly worth the effort." He turned his gaze toward the far end of the room, where a row of glass walls separated them from an adjoining chamber. "Was wandering through the last few rows of the Records Room until I found a similar opening that led to this place. Figured you'd be around here somewhere."

Yunho followed his brother's nod, his attention shifting past the bloodstained operating tables to the massive archive just beyond the glass. There. He didn't need Yeosang's smirk to confirm it. It was practically a gold mine. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the endless shelves lined with thick folders. He pulled one out at random, flipping it open, and the realisation hit like a punch to the gut.

Patient files.

No, not patients.

Criminals.

Sato's team of corrupt doctors had faked their deaths, using fabricated mental illnesses as a cover for their "decline." One by one, they were marked as deceased, their medical records doctored to remove suspicion. Their organs were harvested, sold on the black market, and their bodies discreetly disposed of like garbage.

And at the bottom of each profile—cold, clinical, and damning—was a final price. The total amount each body had been worth.

His grip tightened on the folder. This wasn't just a side hustle. This was the asylum's lifeblood. The money made from these transactions didn't just line Sato's pockets—it funded Prestige's continued expansion. Every new wing, every upgraded facility, every added layer of so-called security only made the place more untouchable, burying its corruption deeper beneath a facade of legitimacy.

This was how the Chairman had managed to build a kingdom on filth and blood. By monetising both the living and the dead. By making sure that even his customers—his supposed "guests"—were nothing more than assets waiting to be cashed in.

The Enforcer exhaled sharply, shoving the file back into place. This was it. This was everything they needed. "Time to report back," he said, turning to Yeosang.

His brother grinned, already moving toward the passage. "Hongjoong hyung's gonna have a field day with this."

Yunho glanced back at the bloodstained room one last time, his jaw tightening. Sato had built this empire on greed, corruption, and death. And now, they were going to tear it all down.

But before that, there was something else he needed to do. He had told the Phantom to head back first. It was reckless to linger after the stunt they had just pulled—if security caught wind of what happened before he was off the compound, everything could come crashing down on him. But he had to do this first.

Slipping back into Sato's office with practised stealth, he made sure to reseal the hidden passage before heading straight for the drawer. His fingers found the photos instantly. A picture of you with your parents. Another of Dr Ivanov with his family.

Yeosang had called it a stupid risk, but Yunho didn't care. Something in him refused to let Ryoichi Sato keep these. He hated the idea of that bastard having something so personal, so intimate, tucked away in his possession.

This was for you.

For the sake of his own heart.

Tucking the photos neatly into his pocket, he slipped out through a side window, moving like a shadow as he made his way toward your office. He knew you weren't there, but maybe he'd leave behind a little surprise for you to find in the morning.

Only, he didn't expect to hear his name whispered from behind.

"Yunho?"

He spun around instantly, eyes locking onto your figure. You stood there in casual clothes, a stark contrast to the formal attire he was so used to seeing you in. Why were you still up? Could you not sleep? You cradled a steaming mug in your hands—coffee, he presumed—but it was the expression on your face that caught him off guard.

Shock. Then alarm.

Your feet moved before your mind could catch up. You grabbed his arm, your grip firm, urgent. "What the hell are you doing here at this time of night, you idiot?" you whisper-yelled.

He grinned sheepishly and pulled the photos from his pocket, holding them up. "Came to return these to you."

Your heart clenched. He had risked everything to retrieve them.

Before you could even begin to process the implications, the thunder of footsteps echoed down the hall. The voices of guards grew louder—searching, calling out about an intruder.

Your pulse spiked. Without a second thought, you grabbed the man and yanked him inside your office, slamming the door shut behind you just as your better judgement screamed at you for doing so. "Fuck," you cursed under your breath, your mind racing.

He was already scanning the room, searching for an escape, but there was none. The only window was too small, useless.

"In there!" a guard shouted just outside.

Panic clawed at your chest.

No time.

Without hesitation, you cupped Yunho's face. His breath hitched, his body tensing at the sudden contact. Wide, startled eyes locked onto yours. If not for the urgency of the situation, you might have laughed at how adorably caught off guard he looked.

"Kiss me," you whispered.

For a split second, the world seemed to pause. Then, he understood.

His arms wrapped around your waist just as you crashed your lips against his, your heart hammering—not just from the approaching guards but from the way he responded so instantly, so intensely. He kissed you back without hesitation.

There was no time to register that this—this was your first kiss together. No time to process the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his lips moved with such desperation, as if he had been waiting for this moment longer than he cared to admit.

Instinctively, he spun you around, positioning his body between you and the door just as it burst open.

"You—M-Mr. Lee? What are you still doing here?" the head guard stammered, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

The man had spent the past few months working closely with Yunho, trusting him as their security consultant. And yet, here he was—lips swollen, hair tousled, in a very compromising position with the deputy head psychologist.

You fisted the gang member's shirt as if grounding yourself before snapping, "What do you think he's doing here? You're a man too, can't you see we're busy? What's with all the ruckus anyway?"

Yunho played along perfectly, smirking against your temple before turning to the guard. "Sorry, man," he said smoothly, voice dripping with amusement. "I know this isn't exactly professional, but I promise, it's all consensual. No harm done."

The head guard's face burned at the sight of your smudged lipstick on the man's lips. He paled as realisation hit him like a freight train. He had just walked in on the security consultant and the deputy head psychologist.

"M-My apologies," he stuttered, visibly flustered. He shifted awkwardly, clearly unwilling to explain the real reason for the intrusion—because to do so would mean exposing their own illegal operations. "There's just… been a break-in. We're on the lookout for an intruder. You were right, sir. We do have room for improvement still. I uhh... we can discuss that another time. P-Please continue."

With that, he hastily backed out and shut the door behind him.

Silence fell between you and the Enforcer. Your hands were still pressed against his chest, your lips still tingling from the kiss. And that was when it truly hit you.

That was your first kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you hesitantly lifted your gaze to meet Yunho's. His dark eyes studied you, unreadable, but his fingers still lingered on your waist, as if he wasn't quite ready to let go.

Then, a slow smirk curled at the corner of his lips. "Well," he murmured, voice teasing, yet there was something deeper beneath it—something softer. "That was one hell of a cover-up."

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"Ahh, Stefano… how long has it been since you started working with us?" the Chairman of Prestige Asylum mused, his voice smooth as he poured whiskey into two glasses—one for himself and one for the man seated across from him.

The Enforcer leaned back comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, exuding confidence as he flashed an easy grin. "I don't know, Chairman. You tell me. Long enough for you to give me a sizable tip, I hope."

His tone was casual, his expression unreadable, but beneath the mask, he was burning with barely contained disgust. To think this man had once held power, had once been an official of the law. Now, he sat here like a king, oblivious to the empire he was about to lose. If only the world knew the true depth of his depravity.

But Yunho had one final act to play.

The evidence was secured. The truth was waiting to be unveiled. He and Yeosang had delivered everything the night before—a crucial victory after months of deception and danger. But the fight wasn't over. Not until Sato was finished.

And now, as expected, he had been summoned. He knew why.

The break-in.

Yunho wouldn't be surprised if Sato was suspicious of him. After all, his sudden appearance at the compound the night before—coincidentally during the very time the security was breached—was too convenient. Even if he had been "found" in a compromising position with you, the timing was still too perfect.

Or perhaps the Chairman simply needed his expertise. As their trusted security consultant, it was his job to assess their weaknesses—and last night had proven their defences weren't as airtight as they thought. Either way, he was prepared for this.

His brothers were on standby, waiting for his signal. He had assured them he could handle this alone, though San had been tasked with lingering nearby—mostly to keep an eye on you. You were a valuable ally, he had told them. He had promised to repay you with freedom, he had explained. But everyone knew what you truly were to him.

You weren't just a mission to him anymore. You had become something more. Something he didn't even bother denying now.

You had never been a liability, not to him and not to the Black Pirates. And for that, they had accepted you—just as they recently had Seonghwa's new companion, a woman who had proven worthy of a place among them. Perhaps even something more to the eldest than anyone dared to say aloud. But it didn't matter. She had survived hell and clawed her way out, and now, under the Gentleman's guidance, she was becoming something formidable.

Even Mingi had let go of his initial resistance after learning of the horrors she had endured at the Red Room.

Yunho could only hope for the same outcome for himself. For you.

Did you know?

Did you realise you had become his greatest motivation?

He had left you the night before, the photos finally back where they belonged—in your hands. He had watched you stroke your parents' faces through the worn paper, tears welling in your eyes. And before he could stop himself, he had leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to your cheek. Your sharp gasp had made him smirk.

As your head snapped up to meet his gaze, he had only said, "You'll see them again soon. Don't worry." His tone had been light, but the promise was real. And when you had pushed him playfully by the chest, a soft smile breaking through your sadness, he had known.

"I believe you," you had murmured.

And then he was gone.

Now, here he was, sitting across from the man who had orchestrated so much suffering. The moment he had been waiting for. The moment it would all come to an end.

"A tip, you say?"

Sato chuckled, placing the whiskey glass in front of Yunho before taking a slow sip of his own. He didn't sit. Instead, he prowled around the room, his gaze sharp as he studied the younger man. "Not sure you deserve one after messing around with my deputy head psychologist," he mused, his voice light, but his stare calculating.

He leaned down slightly as if to intimidate, but Yunho only smirked, unfazed. He swirled the drink in his hand, meeting the bastard's gaze with a bold glint of amusement.

"Oh, come on, Chairman. A little conflict of interest won't hurt, will it?" he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "I'll make sure to take our late-night activities elsewhere next time, hm?" He smirked, watching Sato's lip curl at the deliberate provocation. "Besides, don't we have bigger problems to deal with? Like the break-in?"

Sato's eyes darkened for a split second before he exhaled slowly, strolling back to his chair. "I suppose… as long as my staff remains loyal to me, it doesn't matter who she sleeps with in her free time." His fingers tapped against the desk rhythmically before he fixed Yunho with a pointed look. "So, tell me, what more can we do to prevent such situations from happening again?"

The Enforcer hummed, pretending to think as he glanced down at the swirling amber liquid in his glass. "I do have some ideas," he mused. "But there's just one thing I don't get."

Sato tilted his head. "And what's that?"

Yunho lifted his gaze, his expression carefully blank. "Why someone would risk everything to break into your office. I mean… it's not like you keep money or valuables in there. What could possibly be worth infiltrating such a high-security place?" His tone was innocent, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed the true weight behind his words.

For the first time, the Chairman's fingers twitched. A sharp exhale. A slow lift of his chin. And then—

"Why don't you tell me that, Enforcer of the Black Pirates?"

Silence.

The gang member's expression didn't change, but his grip on the whiskey glass tightened slightly. He looked up at the bastard, his face blank, but inside, he felt the shift in the game.

Sato grinned triumphantly. "Had fun running around with your little friend last night?" he taunted. "Enjoyed what you found? I sure hope your Captain did."

Yunho said nothing.

"Go ahead," Sato continued smoothly, pouring himself another drink. "Enjoy your little victory while you still can. Because before you even think about doing anything heroic—or shall I say foolish—know this." He leaned in, his voice dropping lower. "I have allies everywhere, inside and outside this compound. You're outnumbered."

The taller man nodded slowly, sighing as if in reluctant defeat. "You might be right…"

Sato smirked.

"But," Yunho continued, setting his glass down with a soft clink, "do your 'friends' know what you've really been up to behind the scenes?"

The room tensed.

Sato's expression flickered for just a second.

Yunho leaned forward, his voice soft but lethal. "Would they still protect you if they found out that this so-called 'sanctuary' you've built is nothing but a slaughterhouse? That you've been trapping them, bleeding them dry, taking their money while secretly preparing to harvest their organs like cattle?"

The silence was deafening.

The Chairman stared at him. Then, he burst into laughter. A slow, condescending chuckle that grew into something darker. He downed his whiskey before shaking his head.

"Like you said, Stefano. That's if they knew." He leaned back, exuding confidence once more. "But they don't. And what they don't know can't hurt them." He shrugged. "If anything, they should be grateful I'm putting their otherwise worthless lives to good use. Had it not been for me, they'd be rotting away in prison or dying in the streets. Here, they serve a higher purpose." His lips curled. "Think of it as Prestige's way of cleansing the filth of the underworld."

Yunho scoffed. "Cleansing? That's a pretty word for butchering people alive for profit."

Sato tilted his head. "Call it what you want. No one will believe you. You and your crew? You're the criminals here. Any 'evidence' you claim to have? It can be dismissed as fabrication."

The younger man chuckled, shaking his head. "You sound awfully defensive for someone who isn't worried." Ryoichi Sato's smirk twitched. Yunho leaned back. "It's almost like… you're afraid someone might believe me."

The Chairman intertwined his fingers, exhaling as if growing tired of the conversation. "You're a smart man, Jung. The Black Pirates are one of the top dogs in this world. What good does it do either of us to tear each other down when we could be working together?"

Yunho raised a brow. "And do what? Harvest organs?" He scoffed. "Sorry, not exactly our kind of business."

Sato waved a hand dismissively. "Offer us protection. In return, we'll be generous in our repayment."

Yunho tilted his head. "And if I say no?"

Sato sighed dramatically. Then, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a file.

A familiar file.

Your staff profile.

He placed it down on the desk, tapping it lightly. "Then you leave me with no choice." He lifted his gaze, his voice soft but sharp as a blade. "Your precious little girlfriend will have to suffer in your stead."

The air in the room changed. For the first time, Yunho's smirk disappeared. He straightened in his seat, his jaw locking. "You won't be able to touch her," he muttered, his voice dangerously low. "She's under our protection."

The Chairman only smiled. "Oh, I know. But I don't have to touch her." He tapped the file again. "She isn't the problem. It's them."

Yunho stilled.

Sato's grin widened. "Her parents, Jung. You see, they may be alive, but they aren't exactly safe. And if I wanted to, I could change that in an instant. The question is… how will she feel when she finds out you were the reason she lost them? Will she still look at you the same? Will she still hold that soft spot for you?" He chuckled. "I wonder…"

The Enforcer's vision blurred red.

With a sharp inhale, he shot up from his seat, grabbing the bastard by the collar and yanking him forward. The Chairman only laughed, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.

"So, what do you say, Jung?" he whispered. "Come on. It's a win-win situation. You, your brothers, your girl—all safe. Isn't that great?"

Yunho's fingers clenched tighter. His heart pounded. For the first time since he started this mission—since he took on this dangerous role since he infiltrated this godforsaken place—he felt the stakes in a way he hadn't before. Because now, it wasn't just about taking down Ryoichi Sato and Prestige. It was about you.

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"Well, Stefano? What do you say?"

Sato smirked, thinking he had Yunho trapped. That the weight of his threats—the looming danger over your parents' heads—would be enough to force the Black Pirates' Enforcer into submission.

But Yunho?

He had never been one to kneel.

"How about no?"

The Chairman's expression twisted, his nostrils flaring as he clenched his fists. "No? You'll regret this."

Yunho tilted his head, then let out the laugh he had been holding back for far too long. He bit his lip, shaking his head in amusement before casually dusting off his hands. Then, in a deliberate, lazy motion, he slipped them into his pockets, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Oh, Chairman," he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "I don't know about that. But I would like to thank you—for being so transparent with me. It's been an absolute pleasure."

The bastard's brows furrowed, suspicion flashing in his eyes. "What the hell are you—"

Then he noticed it.

Yunho lifted his chin slightly, nodding toward the shelf behind the Chairman. Sato instinctively followed his gaze—

And his heart stopped.

There it was. The broadcasting device.

The one usually kept in the administration office. The one used to make announcements throughout the entire asylum. The one that, somehow, was now here—in his office.

And worse? The light was on.

Every fibre of his being locked up as realisation slammed into him like a freight train. His pupils dilated. His breath caught.

"Fuck."

Yunho smirked. "Oh. So you do get it."

Sato shot up from his chair so fast that it scraped against the floor with a sharp screech. He lunged for the device—

But Yunho was faster.

The Enforcer was already moving, catching the Chairman's wrist mid-air and twisting it with just enough force to make Sato stumble. "Uh-uh," Yunho tsked, shaking his head as he tightened his grip. "Too late, old man."

From beyond the office walls—

Chaos. Shouting. Screaming. The once-calm halls of Prestige were now filled with the furious voices of the criminals who had, just minutes ago, thought they were safe.

And then—

BANG!

A gunshot.

Sato flinched, his head whipping toward the door. The unmistakable crack of shattering glass followed—a riot breaking loose.

"What the fuck have you done?!" Sato roared, his face contorting in fury as he struggled against Yunho's hold. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?!"

Yunho grinned. "Oh, I do. And man, it's even better than I imagined."

The Chairman thrashed in his grip, his entire body trembling with rage. "You bastard—"

"Me?" Yunho scoffed, yanking him back. "I'm not the one who just confessed to butchering his own people on a live fucking broadcast."

Another gunshot. More screaming.

Yunho's expression didn't falter.

Sato, on the other hand—

His face drained of colour.

"You said it yourself," Yunho continued, voice smooth as velvet. "What they don't know won't hurt them." He leaned in, his breath brushing against the older man's ear. "But now they know."

Sato's breath came out ragged. He could feel it now—the weight of all those people turning against him. The same criminals who had once worshipped Prestige, who had paid millions to find sanctuary within its walls, were now out for his blood.

All because of one mistake.

One miscalculation.

His trust in the wrong man.

Yunho finally released him with a rough shove, and Sato staggered back, gripping the edge of his desk for support. His hands shook. His mind raced.

No.

No, this couldn't be happening.

"YOU!" he bellowed, reaching for the gun tucked beneath his desk. But before he could even touch it, Yunho's fist slammed into his face. Sato's head snapped to the side, blood splattering across the desk as he crashed onto the floor, groaning in pain.

Yunho shook out his hand, exhaling. "Ahh..." He flexed his fingers. "Been wanting to do that for so long."

Sato coughed, wiping the blood from his split lip as he glared up at him. "You—"

Before he could finish, a loud boom echoed from outside. The door. Someone—no, several people—were trying to break it down. Sato's breath hitched. "No, no, no—" He scrambled up, only for Yunho to kick him back down with a boot to the chest. "Where do you think you're going, Chairman?"

Sato wheezed. "You don't understand!" His voice was different now—higher, desperate. "You think those animals out there will listen to you?! You need me alive! I'm the only one who can control them!"

Yunho's expression darkened.

"Control them?" He crouched down, gripping Sato's chin in an iron hold. "You mean like cattle? Like livestock?"

Sato swallowed hard.

"You're done, old man," Yunho whispered, voice laced with ice. "And there's nothing you can do to change that now."

Another boom. The door was breaking.

The Chairman panicked. His hands shot out, grabbing onto Yunho's jacket like a drowning man grasping for air. "We can make a deal! I can still—" The office doors burst open. A flood of people—Prestige's betrayed criminals—poured in, weapons drawn, faces twisted in rage.

Sato froze. His heart plummeted as the dozens of eyes locked onto him. Murderous. Hungry. Enraged.

"There he is!" someone snarled.

"You lying piece of shit!"

"You were gonna kill us all?!"

Sato's mouth opened, but this time, there was no audience to listen. No prestige. No power. No escape.

And Yunho?

He simply stepped back, slipping his hands into his pockets once more as he glanced toward the entrance.

There, leaning casually against the doorframe—San. The Tempest smirked, twirling a knife between his fingers. "Told ya," he drawled. "He'd be real popular soon."

Yunho chuckled, looking down at Sato one last time. "Have fun, Chairman." And with that, he turned on his heel—leaving the bastard to the very people he once controlled.

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"Flowers for you, Doctor."

You blinked up from your desk, momentarily distracted from the paperwork stacked before you as your nurse placed a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils in front of you.

A soft breath of surprise left your lips as you sat up, fingertips brushing against the delicate petals. "Who are they from?"

The nurse grinned, leaning in to nudge your shoulder playfully. "Who else? Your mysterious man who drops by once in a while."

Your face grew warm, lips parting in mild protest, but before you could say anything, she winked and poked her tongue out teasingly before slipping out of the office.

With a quiet chuckle, you reached for the small white card nestled within the flowers. The scent of fresh blooms filled your senses as you carefully pulled it free, unfolding the note. The words were written in smooth, precise strokes.

"Congratulations on your new position, doc. A real one this time. I knew you'd make it. - your favourite, JYH"

You bit your lip, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Jung Yunho.

The enigma. The storm that had crashed into your life and, against all odds, saved you. You still weren't sure what exactly you were to him. Neither of you had ever defined it. Perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps he knew better than to drag you into his world, a world far too dark and dangerous for someone like you.

But even if there was nothing more, even if he could never offer you what a normal man could, it was enough. It was enough knowing that he was there. That if you ever needed him, if the shadows of the past ever came creeping back, he would come.

You exhaled softly, standing from your chair to retrieve a vase. As you filled it with water, arranging the daffodils with care, memories of that day—the day Prestige Asylum fell—flooded your mind.

The chaos. The gunfire. The shouts of fury and desperation.

And then him.

Walking towards you through the aftermath like something out of a dream—bloodied knuckles, dirt-streaked skin, and yet—looking every bit like Prince Charming.

"You're free now."

You remembered how his voice had sounded—low, rough with exhaustion, but so sincere as he pulled you into his arms. How his warmth had seeped into you, grounding you, as you clung to him.

How, in that moment, you had believed him.

And you still did.

Because despite the scars Prestige had left, despite the nightmares that still lingered in the corners of your mind, you were free. It had taken time, but you had built something new. You had found a place where you belonged, a purpose that was truly yours.

And he—

He had let you go. Because he had always known you deserved better. But before he left, before he vanished back into the world that had shaped him, he had left you one last thing. A number. A lifeline, tucked into your pocket as he had whispered, "In case you ever need me."

You had never used it.

Not yet.

But as you set the vase on your desk, watching the golden petals sway gently in the light, you found comfort in knowing that, no matter how far he was, he was always within reach.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

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The dim glow of the desk lamp flickered against the polished mahogany surface, casting elongated shadows across the lavish office. Papers lay scattered in organised chaos, but at the centre of it all was a single, closed file.

The man behind the desk tapped his fingers idly against its surface, his lips curling into a slow, knowing grin.

"Huh," he mused, almost amused. "Yet another empire taken down by the Black Pirates." He flipped the file open again, skimming over the details—the chaos at Prestige, the dramatic reveal, Chairman Ryoichi Sato's downfall.

And at the heart of it all—the Enforcer.

A man as dangerous as he was loyal.

"And yet another weakness secured," the figure murmured, leaning back in his chair. His eyes gleamed with something dark, something hungry. "This is getting a little too easy."

Across from him, his subordinate hesitated before stepping forward, a new file in hand. He swallowed, choosing his words carefully.

"Perhaps, sir," he admitted, carefully placing the next folder on the desk. "But… the Phantom seems to be the only one yet to have any weak spots."

The figure stilled. Then, slowly, he reached for the file, fingers tracing the embossed name on its cover. A spark of intrigue flickered in his gaze as he flipped it open, scanning the neatly compiled information on the most elusive member of the gang.

The corners of his lips twitched. "Does he really not?" he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Silence.

Then, a dark chuckle.

"Why don't we present him with one?"

Y'all, I'm so sorry this chapter took me like a thousand years! Aside from the fact that work has been crazy, my perfectionism played another huge role in the delay. I'm still not completely pleased with this, but I'm hoping you lovelies would like it more than I did.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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The Priest's Favorite Sinner

Pairing: Priest!Jeong Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, 18+ Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2.7k words

Summary: The Priest has his favorite sinner, his favorite forbidden fruit.

Warnings: Smut, Blowjobs, Religious guilt, Religious Imagery, Unprotected sex, riding, Gender Neutral reader (I try), Exhibitionism, Reader degrades Yunho and he's super into it, Kinda proofread? , Yunho is a freak freak

A/N: I finally posted something to this acc (admin 🥥 here), I had this bitch sitting in my drafts for months so I decided to clean it up to post >.< I hope you enjoy it! It's my first ever fic like this and any feedback is appreciated ^0^

...To be honest, Yunho does not remember where this perverted fixation on you had started. You’re nothing more than a filthy sinner, someone that Yunho should have stayed away from, from the very moment he laid eyes on you. But you were too enticing for him. Maybe this had started when you accidentally caught him jerking off to a photo of you in his office. Or maybe it started when you had lured him into the confession booth, with those seductive eyes.

Well, whatever it was that started all this… now Yunho can’t get enough of you.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Yunho gasps out, his voice slightly strained, his hands gripping the handles of the confession booth desperately. His grip was so tight, that his knuckles were turning white.

Here you were, between his legs as he sat in the confession booth, his cock deep down your throat. He gasps out and whimpers at how fucking good you feel, your warm mouth taking in all of him. It feels like pure bliss, his heavy cock twitching against your warm tongue.

…This is not what a priest does. A lingering sense of guilt rests in his stomach, a pit chewing at him. nYunho was aware that what he was doing was wrong. If by some miracle he wasn’t damned, this was certainly the nail in the coffin.

Each quickie or blowjob you give, in the confession booth or his office, only lures him in deeper, hook and sinker. You're like a drug to him, and he's addicted…

But Yunho can’t lie and say he doesn’t feel a bit of shame. The never-ending guilt and shame of doing these sinful things in a place considered Holy. What type of priest is he? What type of priest has he become?

… A dirty fucking one, that’s for sure. He’s so addicted to you and your body, trying to find the next wild or bizarre thing to do that puts them at a high risk of being caught…

His cock twitches even more at the idea, another moan slipping his pretty, plush lips. God, you’re so fucking good at being a slut for him.

But suddenly, Yunho was snapped out of thoughts, at the sound of the door to the other side of the confession booth opening, and the shuffling of clothing. Yunho's eyes widened, his face flushing red. What the fuck? Didn’t he put up a sign he would not be hosting confessions today? Had he forgotten?

The logical thing to do was pull you off his cock and take the confession. That’s what a good priest who had not fallen into temptation would do. However… The idea that he has to listen to someone repent their sins to their priest, all while getting his cock sucked and staying quiet is so hot to him... Yunho really was a pervert, wasn't he?

He quietly mutters another apology under his breath, as his hand tightens its grip on your hair, guiding you to keep a steady place as you blow him. Who was the apology for? Not even Yunho knows.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." A man speaks softly, the strain in his voice obvious. He had been crying prior, and in a heartbroken manner, came to Yunho to help find some peace. Your eyes are glued on Yunho, who clears his throat, preparing to reply.

He lets out another low groan, his hips instinctively bucking towards your eager mouth. His fingers tighten around your hair, guiding your movements.

…How is he supposed to care about someone else's sins when all he can think about is how much he wants to bend you over right now? 

You quite truly are the forbidden fruit.

"Go on, my child" Yunho finally begins, his voice shaky and filled with lustful need. God help him, but it feels so wrong yet oh-so-right at the same time.

The other person on the other side didn't hear how Yunho sounded different, probably too grief-stricken to notice or care. He begins to talk, occasionally stopping to hiccup or sob. Yunho was trying to focus on this story, his mind split between processing this man’s story and relishing the warm sensation of your mouth enveloping his cock.

For just a moment, Yunho feels guilty about what he is doing while this poor man repents his sins.

But you don’t.

Carefully, while locking eyes with him, you slowly took more of Yunho’s cock deeper into your mouth, deepthroating him. His eyes widened as he watched you, biting his lip so hard he could taste crimson metallic blood. It oozes out of the wound and threatens to spill down his chin.

You took him all in, the tip of your nose pressed against his skin, the sight so erotic Yunho wished he could be like this forever. Your sweet, plush lips around his cock…

Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him.

"What...what sins have you committed?" Yunho manages to choke out, his words barely coherent as he struggles to maintain control. His body tenses up, muscles clenching as he fights against the overwhelming urge to cum. Did this man already tell Yunho about his sins? He’s not even paying attention at this point.

Thankfully, the man hadn’t told Yunho his sins, and he did just that. Yunho can hear the man’s voice trembling, as he voices the sins he committed, that led him to this very confession booth. Yunho couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The sins he mentioned were not worthy of showing up here, not even in the slightest.

His grip on your hair tightens further, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your lips and his body. He starts thrusting shallowly, using your mouth like his own personal sex toy. "Tell me everything," he commands breathlessly, his voice low and husky with desire. "Don't leave anything out..."

Is he stalling? Is Yunho hoping that the man’s tragic story takes up enough time for Yunho to finally climax? Not even he knows.

What he should have done was just bless him and forgive his sins already… Well, that could only happen if he wasn’t such a pervert. The idea that this random man finds out is hotter than any fantasty Yunho could come up with.

*"...and that's why I'm here," the voice from outside continues, sounding broken-hearted and remorseful.

But Yunho can hardly concentrate on the man’s words. Every fiber of his being screams for release, begging him to let go and surrender himself fully to pleasure. A soft whimper escapes him as you constrict your throat even more- such a simple action sends shockwaves through his body. 

"Well..." His mind was too fuzzy to come up with a specific answer. His brain scurried to find a simple basic answer, one to satisfy this man so he could get the hell out faster. He finally responds after what felt like ages with, "It seems that your penance will involve many prayers and hours spent kneeling before God." How ironic.

With those words hanging heavy in the air, Yunho gives one final push into your welcoming mouth. A soft shuddered sigh leaves his lips, his head tilted forward, as his locks of black hair stick to his forehead, littered with beads of sweat.

You slightly cough as he grips your hair tighter and holds your head down, as he releases hot cum down your throat. It overflows, some of it escaping the corners of your mouth, mixed with some of your saliva, dripping down the base of his cock, and down his balls. It most definitely ruined his robes, but to be honest, Yunho couldn't care less.

"Oh, thank you, Father." The grief-stricken man thanks Yunho multiple times, his voice full of joy and relief. He wasn’t even aware of what had been happening next door. The newly repented man leaves the confession booth, leaving Yunho and you alone here.

As you were finally pulled off his softening cock, you couldn’t help but softly cough out, having managed to swallow all that Yunho had given you. “...You’re a fucking pervert, you know.” You couldn’t help but gasp out, trying to catch your breath.

Yunho couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at you. You’re correct, but why must you be so vulgar about it? “A pervert? Is that what you think of me?” He softly mused, his hand letting go of your hair, his hands almost instinctively petting it, to smooth it out. For a moment, Yunho had to admire how divine you looked in the dim lighting of the confession booth.

“You seemed super fucking turned on about the idea someone could have discovered us…” You commented in a very curt, straightforward manner. “...That's something only a pervert would get off to.” A sly smile forms on your face as Yunho's face slightly flushes red. Again, you might be right, but why so blunt about it?

He swallows as he watches you strip your clothes off in a nonchalant manner, his cock somehow hardening yet again. You and your cursed spell.

"...You're right," Yunho finally admitted softly, his hands reaching for your bare hips, feeling the soft flesh underneath his fingertips. He gives a possessive squeeze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mind runs crazy with lust and desire. He pulls you in more, having you straddle Yunho.  "I am a pervert. And you're the reason why."

His hands roam and touch every part of you he can, committing it to memory. He can never get enough of your body. He’s utterly hooked.

"I can't help myself around you. You drive me crazy..." Yunho’s voice is deep and sensual, as he pulls you in even closer to him. His lips then began to press kisses all over your bare chest. You couldn’t help but let out a shuddered sigh, your head tilted back in pure bliss.

…All his life, Jeong Yunho had devoted himself to the name of Christ and God. It feels with each feverish kiss he presses on your delicate skin, more and more of his sanity slips away. The delicate braid of his faith in his religion, unraveled string by string. You were the one he wanted to spend and dedicate the rest of his life worshipping. 

To prove his point, Yunho captures your nipple between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to elicit a gasp from your parted lips. "Mmm, but I bet you love it, just as much as I do." He murmured in a husky manner, his eyes looking up at you. A crazed look of insanity, lust, and devotion was swirling in those brown eyes of him, signifying that this priest was long gone.

You couldn’t help but nod, little moans slipping past your lips with each kiss, each hickey, and each bite Yunho leaves on you, marking you in a way only a sinner could.

“Oh, yes I do, Father.” You moan out, peering down and snickering to yourself as Yunho’s ears slightly flush red. You can’t get enough of teasing him.

His cock eagerly twitches against your needy hole, and you lifted your hips up just enough, positioning yourself to be a bit more comfortable.

Knees planted on either side of Yunho’s beefy thighs, one hand on the handle of the confession booth and the other on Yunho’s shoulder, you lazily roll your hips over the sensitive tip, watching the priest under you shudder.

“Don’t tease me like that.” Yunho desperately hisses between his teeth, his hands firmly gripping your hips. Once his tip was kissing against your hole, Yunho couldn’t help but let out a trembling moan once you finally sank down on him.

A sweet moan leaves your lips as his big cock stretches you out, your velvety walls pulsing and eagerly milking him, his tip pressed right against that sweet spot deep in you. “Oh yes, Father-” You moaned out, as you began to roll your hips, bouncing on Yunho’s cock.

Deep moans leave Yunho’s lips, he’s absolutely mesmerized by you. You look so angelic riding him, so ethereal. Liquid pleasure courses through Yunho's veins, but he doesn’t even have time to relish in it.

In the midst of his pleasure-filled haze, Yunho’s ears pick up once again on the confession booth door next to him opening. What the fuck?!

Suddenly, without thinking, Yunho puts his hand to your mouth and shoves his fingers in. His fingers press against your tongue, causing you to slightly cough, any noises afterward muffled. On the other side, it’s an older woman’s voice. “Father forgive me, for I have sinned.”

His heart beats out of his chest, that same thrill he got from earlier coursing through his veins. The thrill of potentially being caught is too addicting for Yunho to just give up. As his free hand gently guides you to keep bouncing on his cock, he clears his throat, and he speaks. “What seems to be troubling you, my child? Speak freely.” 

His mind is melting. Yunho’s eyes are fixated on your form, the way you bounce on his aching cock, the way you look taking his fingers in your mouth, the way your spit drools down your chin. He’s trying to focus on the lady next to him. He really is. You’re just too distracting. You just simply feel too good, wrapped around his cock.

With sniffles, the woman next to him began to confess her sins in a soft, repentant voice, which only made Yunho roll his eyes again. This was once again petty bullshit that did not require to be forgiven.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you then began to grind your hips for more pleasure, and by accident, a soft moan left his lips. Your eyes narrow in delight as Yunho’s eyes widen in horror, his hand squeezing your hip so hard there would surely be bruises by tomorrow.

“F-Father are you okay?” The woman on the other asks in a concerned manner. She has no idea. She has no clue what is happening next to her.

“Apologies, my child…” Yunho stammers out slightly, trying to compose himself to respond. “...I slept wrong on my neck last night. Just had some pain.”

Really? Neck pain? Is that the best he can do? Yunho could feel your tongue move as you giggled underneath his fingers, and he shot you a glare to behave yourself.

The woman clears her throat, before continuing her tale. “Please Father, what should I do?”

That’s a great question. What should she do?

Yunho grits his teeth as he begins to thrust his hips upwards, his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars. A knot forms quickly in your abdomen, signaling that you aren’t gonna last long. As your tongue decides to swirl around his long fingers, Yunho’s eyes roll to the back of his head, his own orgasm approaching quickly. His eyes clenched shut as he fights to maintain control, even an ounce of sanity.

“Forgiveness can be found through prayer and penance, my child," Yunho finally manages to say, his voice strained and husky. “Now repeat after me: 'I am truly sorry for my sins...'”

As the woman in the booth next to him begins to recite the phrase, Yunho's thrusts become more erratic, desperately chasing that sweet forbidden release. He's teetering on the edge, the sweet taste of Nirvana is just right on the tip of his tongue.

Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as you came, your juices coating and making a mess on Yunho’s thighs. If Yunho’s fingers were not in your mouth, your moans would have been so loud right now.

Yunho shudders at the sight of your orgasm that he can’t hold back anymore, pulling your hips down on his cock as he came, shooting streams of  cum into your sweet hole.

He lets out a low shaky exhale, as the lady in the booth next to him thanks Father Yunho, leaving in a hurry.

The only sound that could be heard is the soft ragged breathing that came from you and Yunho, trying to catch your breaths from such an experience.

“...Told ya that you were a pervert.” You grinned slightly, as you slowly lifted yourself off his softening cock, some of his cum slightly leaking out.

Yunho, who’s still trying to catch his breath, narrows his eyes but chooses not to comment on it. After all, you were correct.

[bnanamlkluvr]

(Don’t) sing to me - Siren!Seonghwa x reader

pairings: Siren!Seonghwa x pirate!reader

warnings: Siren!Seonghwa, cunnilingus, emotional manipulation, hypnosis, non-con, afab!reader, slight yandere, mentions of blood and gore, purely fiction, captivity, kidnapping, why is Seonghwa always pussy drunk in these

minors DNI

You threw your head around, panic fogging your mind. The only thing you saw was the blood, the dead bodies, the open wound on your own thigh.

You couldn’t tell if it was the loss of blood or the sheer weight of the situation that made you so dizzy that you could barely walk straight when you tried to make it to the safe place of the ship. You saw your captain, lying bloody, trying to reach out for you, but you had to look away.

In these situations, you had to save yourself, you knew that. That’s why you felt so stupid when you turned around to help the poor man.

You had never planned to become a pirate, but when you were abandoned and the crew seemed to find you right when you needed them most, you couldn’t help but accept the offer.

When things like this would happen, you almost regretted your decision. Although you had been in these situations before, it had never been this brutal. You mourned the men you had lost so far, but you feared the amount of men lost in this raid would be double the amount you had in your entire life on this ship.

You tried to keep yourself focused on the task at hand, keeping your captain alive. Hongjoong had always told you that we lived in a cruel world, and the most important thing was always going to be to save yourself. That might’ve been the reason for him silently fighting you when you tried to dress his deep wounds.

He couldn’t even utter a word, but his eyes said it all. Save yourself, or you will get us both killed.

But you ignored him, and kept trying to stop his bleeding, wincing when you felt your own wound sting.

You managed to somewhat stop the bleeding, before dragging him to the safe room. He wasn’t heavy, but with your current injuries, pulling his body felt like the hardest mission you had ever encountered.

You were more than happy to find other people in the room, although they were all injured. Well, all except one. The one person everyone had to keep alive: the doctor.

Yunho ran up to you with his eyebrows furrowed, looking you up and down as you collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall. You watched as someone else carefully picked up Hongjoong, bringing him to safety.

”Are you crazy?” Yunho asked, grabbing your face harshly to get your attention. You looked down, but felt too tired to even apologize. You knew he was thankful, whether he would admit it or not. Everyone knew that Hongjoong was the most important person on this ship, and anyone would’ve gladly sacrificed you to keep him alive, they just didn’t want to admit it.

You watched as Yunho used his medical tools, your vision slowly getting darker as you leaned your head against the wall, that almost seemed like a soft pillow right now.

”Hey!” Yunho suddenly slapped you lightly on your cheek. ”You need to stay awake, you hear me!?” he said. You felt warm in your chest when you saw the worry in his eyes. It felt nice to know that someone wanted to keep you alive.

You slowly nodded at his earlier question. ”You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Yunho said, probably just talking to keep you from falling asleep. ”Listen, you have to stay strong.”

You listened to him as he took your hand in his. ”They’re still lurking around here, and we have to make sure that we can go up against them,” he informed.

Right, you thought. The only reason he’s keeping you alive is so you can fight, so you can keep everyone safe, keep Hongjoong safe. You frowned, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of a harsh bang on the door.

The room froze, everyone’s eyes flying towards the door. You saw the large axe that had managed to get through the thick door, and it was like you knew. You knew that this was it, you were going to die.

You were all going to die.

You felt Yunho’s arms pick you up, making you wince quietly in pain as you were reminded of the big wound on your leg. Another bang was heard, this time with the sound of loud male voices.

There were more of them now. You desperately wanted to stay strong, but you couldn’t even stop your eyes from watering in fear when you heard the third and last bang before the door fell to the floor.

You watched the countless armed men fill the room, slaughtering the already weak people. Yunho quickly put you on your feet again, but you could barely even stand. You watched in panic as Yunho did what you should’ve probably expected him to.

He went to Hongjoong.

You couldn’t help but feel an ounce of betrayal. Yunho had been the first person you ever really made friends with on this ship, so seeing him so effortlessly pick Hongjoong over you, it hurt.

You grabbed your knife, fiercly trying to get through the crowd of people, but it was terrifying. You heard the most gut wrenching screams from your crew members, saw blood splattering out of another pirate’s chest as you stabbed him without mercy.

But you never stopped moving. You never stopped moving until you saw an opening. You decided that this was going to be the time when you really took Hongjoong’s advice, so you saved yourself.

You ran out on deck, even as your wound reopened and you screamed louder than ever before, you knew what you had to do.

Sure, the water would be cold, sure, you would leave your entire crew when you might’ve been able to fight more for them, but you didn’t care. You simply saved yourself.

And if you were going to die - which it felt like when the ice-cold water met your skin and its salt seeped into your wound - you were at least going to die here, not by some ruthless pirate stabbing you to death.

You swam and swam, but noticed that you hadn’t even gotten very far. You felt your legs starting to give out, your head getting foggier and foggier for every second, until your body finally started sinking down.

You didn’t fight it, you didn’t scream. You let yourself succumb to the sweetness of death, and right before the darkness came, you heard the sound of a beautiful song, almost hypnotic. You were satisfied that the last thing you would hear before you finally died would be this angelic voice, soft enough to finally allow you to let go of the tiny bit of hope that you had tried so hard to hold on to.

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°

The moment he laid his eyes on your face, he knew you were the perfect prey. As you finally stopped resisting him, finally accepting your fate, he knew you were going to be perfect.

His turquoise fins shimmered in the moonlight, enough to make any sailor turn his head.

He watched as your chest slowly rose and fell, smiling at the fact that his magic had worked, even when he feared it was too late. His fingers traced your lips - that were starting to turn blue from the immense cold - and he made sure his long fingernails didn’t graze your fragile skin.

In the long hours of silently observing you, Seonghwa thought to himself that he had learned so much about you from simply looking at your sleeping form.

The harsh skin of your palms, slightly burned from having handled rope on the ship, the dangling jewelry hanging from your pierced ears, and the thing that made him whimper in worry: a large wound on your thigh, so filthy and deep that it made him wince.

He knew his healing could work to some extent, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle this. But that’s what he spent the rest of your unconscious hours on. Trying to heal you completely.

He used his precious saliva to clean your wound carefully, its powers slowly healing the injury. He continued his sweet singing, keeping you lulled in a peaceful sleep.

But now that he had healed you best to his abilities, he just lay there next to you in his small cave, watching you peacefully rest.

As much as he adored watching you, he couldn’t help but feel worried. Why weren’t you waking up? Hadn’t his magic worked properly?

He tried shaking you, tickling you, pinching you, and his favorite method - kissing you awake. But none of it seemed to work.

To Seonghwa, it felt as if several days had passed since he found you by the ship, but in reality, it might’ve not been more than one.

Due to his concerns, he always stayed by your side, dipping into the water ever so often to hydrate his fins, but soon returned to slowly run his long nails through your wet and salty hair, watching your expression closely, begging for you to wake up.

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°

You acknowledged the fact that you were aware, that you were still feeling things, experiencing things. And although you would’ve been ecstatic about it at any other given moment, considering you were sure you had died, you couldn’t help but feel tired.

Hadn’t you accepted the fact that you were dead? You felt as if you had welcomed death with open arms when you felt the sharp pain of the water entering your lungs, so why were you still here.

You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear, but you could think. You tried to sense your surroundings, but your mind seemed to have left your body.

You paused mentally. Was this the true nature of death? Was there really an afterlife? Had all of those sayings about souls been real?

Your mind felt like it spun around, the confusion growing inside of you. That was, until you heard a sound.

It was that beautiful sound that you had heard right before you lost consciousness. That voice, as if the notes it sang were engraved in silver.

You heard the sweet humming, making your head feel fuzzy. Why were you so drawn to it? Why was it so desperately trying to pull you out of your slumber?

The second time you were aware, you felt a new sensation enter your system. You tried to squirm, but then remembered that you couldn’t control your body - did you even have one anymore? Were these all just hallucinations? Or was the sensation of cold lips exploring your neck real?

For every time you regained consciousness, the sensations grew stronger. You could hear sounds clearly, feel the outline of a hand against your skin, but you couldn’t move to touch it.

Until one time, when you could.

Your eyes opened, and it was as if all the senses you had missed out on, now came crashing down on you. You felt the sharp pain in your thigh as you moved, felt the gnawing hunger in your stomach, and the cold air hitting your wet skin.

The creature in front of you seemed to notice your discomfort, even though you couldn’t utter a word. He quickly ran his tongue up and down your neck, clicking and humming lowly as you squirmed around in his hold.

Your eyes traveled down, and widened in fear as they did so. The wound on your leg was barely visible anymore, and the most chocking thing of all, was the blue and green glowing light radiating off of the man in front of you. Off of his fins.

You found the energy to move away from him, your arms slowly scooting you towards the cave wall. You watched as his face contorted into a large frown, his body inching closer towards you right away.

You retreated your head from his hands as he tried to hold you, but did it to no avail. His hands grabbed your face, and you shrieked when you felt the large nails against your skin, but he only whined as you shook your head.

”No,” he said, and you could tell this wasn’t his mother’s tongue. Your eyes clenched shut in fear when his face inched closer to yours, and you didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this.

You felt his mouth against yours, his long tongue entering your mouth without your permission, but even when you wanted to hate it, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, the sound of the peaceful humming as he licked and kissed, it made you relax.

His lips traveled down your neck, his tongue slightly warming you up in the shivering state you were in, as he continued singing. You felt your eyes rolling back into your skull, and noticed how you weren’t fighting back anymore.

The only thing you could do was stare at his beauty as he continued running his hands up and down your cold legs, his eyes looking deep into yours.

”My human,” he smiled in between his hums, his head traveling lower down your body until he was slowly kissing your stomach.

He lifted the fabric of your blouse that hadn’t fully dried yet due to the humidity of the air in the cave you were in. You closed your eyes when he slowly started unbuttoning your shorts, his voice feeling like silk in your ears. The part of you that so desperately wanted to fight back wasn’t even there anymore. You could only feel the bliss and relaxation of the moment, but you couldn’t understand why.

Your eyes opened again when you felt your shorts slowly sliding off of your body. You would’ve winced at the feelings of his sharp nails grazing your thighs, but you didn’t. It was like almost everything that you would react strongly to otherwise, you now didn’t mind at all.

Hence the reason for your drawn out moan when the creature slowly spread your thighs apart, looking in between your legs with lustful and hungry eyes.

You blinked when he stopped singing, and even after only a second had passed, you already missed the feeling of his voice in your ears. You watched in anticipation as he slowly trailed kisses up your thighs, sucking slightly and making you shiver with excitement.

”So beautiful,” you heard him say, but you felt as if you weren’t fully conscious anymore. It was the same feeling that you had right before you had woken up, when you could almost grasp everything that was going on, but not really.

You almost felt as if you were going to pass out before your breath caught in your throat, making you avert your attention towards the man in between your legs.

You moaned when you felt his long tongue exploring you, the softness and coolness of it foreign to you. It was almost overwhelming when his tongue entered your hole, making your head shoot up in chock.

He immediately took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers with his, making you gasp at the feelings of his webbed fingers and long nails against your human hands.

His tongue curled inside of you, exploring your insides as he lewdly slurped up your juices. You exhaled deeply when he retreated his tongue, your grip on his hand loosening, only to harden again when the long muscle found your clit.

You felt your legs unconsciously spreading wider for him, giving him more access to where he wanted to lick and suck. He licked a long stipe up your pussy before retreating his head with a satisfied sigh.

You looked at his parted lips, wet and plump, and felt your desperation grow. ”Please,” you whined out, slightly raising your hips towards his face.

He smiled in surprise, but obeyed your wish with a small hum. You almost cried out when you felt him against you once again, working quick and skillful patterns against you, like nothing you had ever experienced before.

You slowly felt your climax starting to build inside of you, your thighs starting to clench around his head, when you suddenly felt a realization hit you.

Who was he?

You looked down at his eyes - that were rolled back in bliss - and thought of his identity. You thought of how you ended up here, the scar on your thigh. How did you get that?

And suddenly, everything came back to you.

You immediately let go of his hand and crawled away from him as you realized the situation. You didn’t know him, and you never wanted any of this.

You saw the anger in his eyes as you backed into a wall, making yourself smaller by hugging your knees to your chest. But beyond that anger was also a strong worry. You saw the way his eyebrows furrowed as you backed away, and now, you saw the way he slowly made his way towards you.

”What are you doing to me?” you asked, your heartbeat pounding faster as you recalled everything that had happened, and the way you hadn’t even tried to stop any of it.

”Shhh,” you heard, but you just flinched when he tried to reach out for you with his hand. ”No,” he said, like a mother denying a child something.

You kept backing away, until you realized that you had nowhere to go. This small cave was only connected to the water, and with your current state, you probably couldn’t even swim a few feet.

You froze when you heard a sound in your ears again. It was that song again, the one you knew you had heard before, but couldn’t understand when or where. Your head snapped towards him as he looked at you with glowing eyes, his mouth open as he sang those beautiful notes.

It was such a strong pull, such a beautiful melody, that your body slowly seemed to give in to it once again. And although you realized that this was what kept you from denying his touches, from trying to escape, you were way too far gone to do anything about that.

You slowly let him pull you to the cave’s edge, his body submerging into the water. You watched as he spread your legs, your calved dangling off the edge and into the cold water.

This time, when he dove back in between your legs, he never stopped humming his song. You were reminded of how close you had gotten before he stopped, and felt your excitement build up quickly once more.

His hums sent vibrations up your body, making you grip his hair desperately. His nails slightly dug into your waist, making you moan as pain mixed with pleasure. You watched as his tail splashed into the water slightly, moving quicker the closer you got.

”Give in, human,” he said before continuing to flick your clit, making you throw your head back. And those words was what made you let go completely, and come undone in his arms.

You heard your own moans and his singing echo in the walls of the cave, and when he slowly pulled you up to lay down on the stone, you had long forgotten the worries in your mind.

Yunho and Hongjoong didn’t cross your mind - the fact that you were being emotionally manipulated by an unknown creature with beautiful fins and hypnotizing eyes didn’t bother you. Of course, that was no coincidence.

Seonghwa had to make sure he was the only thing on your mind when you finally fell asleep to his sweet lullaby once again. And when he slowly cradled you in his arms, tenderly brushing your hair out of your face, he knew he had to keep it that way forever.

masterlist

[bnanamlkluvr]

don't run

a/n: spontaneous late night thot (18+)

cw: needy! san + slight size kink

---

imagine desperate sannie breathily whining against your neck as he enters you, his hands gripping soft rosy bruises against your hips.

he's overwhelmed by the tight heat, hips already stuttering as he attempts to hold himself back from immediately fucking you into the mattress.

when he finally bottoms out, he nudges at that sensitive spot deep inside. already half-delirious from the way he stretches you and the feeling hot skin of his chiseled chest press against your back, you jolt forward in surprise, involuntarily clenching around him -- sucking him in even deeper.

"f-fuckk..."

he chokes out a groan at the feeling, already feeling himself getting close to bursting inside of you. he presses his hips urgently against yours, addicted to the feeling of being impossibly deep inside of you.

completely his.

the feeling is too much for you, though.

the incredible stretch makes you quickly pull away from him, a desperate attempt to relieve that intensely euphoric pressure that is building inside. but before you could get too far -- before you could even feel his heated chest withdraw from your space -- his body is chasing yours, too hungry to let you go.

even though he's still buried deep inside, he whines for more like it's the end of the world.

"p-please -- f-fuck -- please don't run from me, baby." large hands pull you back against him. his voice is quiet and needy as he coos against you, "n-need this."

"t-too much, sannie--!"

he barely hears you, too focused on watching the way his cock slowly pulls out of your dripping cunt, "need this..." he repeats. "take it. for me."

"san--"

you grab onto the sheets tightly, knuckles nearly white as he thrusts roughly into you, hands pressing against your waist to give him the best angle to thoroughly ruin you.