daemour
daemour
daemour
2K posts
Dae 노래를 따라서, 저 달빛에 춤을 춰 Navigation | Tipsy Drabbles
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daemour · 22 days ago
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Ahhhh thank you !! I'm glad you enjoyed it hehe
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Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
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this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
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“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
1K notes · View notes
daemour · 24 days ago
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Thank you for 1k notes 🩷 and idiot-in-love San appreciates them too
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Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
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this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
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“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
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daemour · 1 month ago
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Birthstone Drops
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The month of March is in the old Germanic language called Lenz-mond. It translates to springtime month. March is the first month where the season Spring begins and animals wake up from their hibernation. It's a month of a fresh and clean beginning.
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March: an aquamarine is a symbol of reigniting love and protection on long voyages. The name stems from ancient roman sailors that believed the gem was made out of pure seawater by Poseidon himself.
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Rules:
Submission must include either the theme of loveless to loving relationship (exes to lovers, arranged marriage), the theme of voyages (pirates, mermaids, sea creatures), or simply the appearance of Aquamarines in your writing or graphics
All rules of the net apply for any submissions
This is a monthly event, so preferably share your work during the month of January to be included on the shoutout masterlist at the end of the month
For writers: No min/max word count, just let the words flow!
For visual creators: Please include at least the visual of aquamarines in your work. Otherwise, go wild!
Please send all submissions to the appropriate designated channel/thread in our discord for proper organization
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daemour · 1 month ago
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241124 'Ice On My Teeth' | YUNHO
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daemour · 1 month ago
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Happy (belated) Valentine's! This was made for @lapydiaries 2024-25 Winter Event, Anti-Holiday Propoganda <3
I picked the prompt Valentine's Breakup, and I hope you enjoy the edit!
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daemour · 2 months ago
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Thank you for adding I Wish You Roses <333
𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 200 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘺!
 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Comforting You After You Have A Rough Week - @mingoooossii ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Bf!Ateez Texts - @littlexbunni bf!ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Bsf!Ateez & Ur Crush On Another Member - @bombuni best friend!ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Baby, I'm Jealous [Part One] [Part Two] - @bunny-hwa idol!woosan x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Benefits - @shinestarhwaa idol!san x staff!reader x idol!seonghwa (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Bleach - @jonghoex bf!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Blood In The Clouds - @callmeagardengnome mafia leader!hongjoong x flight attendant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Bunny Love - @i-like-loserz idol!hongjoong x bunny hybrid!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Christmas Cookies - @dancinglikebutterflywings dad!hongjoong x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 Descent - @crimsonbubble rockstar!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 In Sickness And In Health - @makeitmingi bf!idol!seonghwa x doctor!gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Kindergarten!Ateez - @rosy-wooyoung non-idol!seonghwa x kindergarten teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Little Soul - @jjoongstar grim reaper!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Midnight Song - @doitforbangchan siren!seonghwa x pirate!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Page Me - @hwaightme bf!paediatrician!seonghwa x gn!neurosurgeon!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Chess Not Checkers - @bibittybopittybadbxtch idol!yunho x hongjoong’s sister!reader 𓆞 𓆞 Dinner And Dessert - @hongjoongtime117 bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Doll - @pirateprincessblog idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 English Affair - @weinq idol!yunho x fan!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Every Season After - @iannmin childhood best friend!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Make It Bouncy  - @shinestarism bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Mix And Match - @xuchiya non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Switch - @sxdisteez bf!idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Winter Wonderland - @emeraldelysian best friend!idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Untitled - @323cutie bf!yeosang x reader (imagine) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Eyes On You - @nczennie bf!san x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Husband Activities - @bambikisss husband!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Saturn [Part One] [Part Two] - @pyramid-of-starrs ex-situationship!san x reader x fiance!maddox (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Sleepy Adoration - @solaris-amethyst bf!san x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Fault In Our Stars - @koyagifs non-idol!san x nurse!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [5:45] - @songmingisthighs bf!mingi x gf!reader(timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Casual - @preciousjoongie non-idol!mingi x heartbroken!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Screw You! - @lemon-woos best friend!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stare - @sweetiesicheng husband!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 When Mingi Leaves For Tour - @makeitmingi idol!mingi x gf!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Finals Day Jitters - @strawbshrtcks bf!wooyoung gn!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Home For The Holidays - @highvern ex-bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 I Wish You Roses - @daemour non-idol!wooyoung x florist!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Love On The Street - @seobinghard best friend!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Muse - @joongieology artist!bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 First Christmas - @prettygirl-gabi bf!idol!jongho x gf!non-idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Playing Your Hand - @zeroseuniverse non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Warm On A Cold Night - @riboism professor!jongho x student!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 When I Fall [Part One] [Part Two] - @xomakara non-idol!jongho x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @domm1etae bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸
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daemour · 2 months ago
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Las nuevas fotos de Wooyoung me reconfortaron el corazoncito de amor 🥹💖 Pero también juega conmigo con esas fotos en bata… 🤡🔥 Qué me estás tratando de decir, Woo?? Que no quiero ser yo la mala de esta relación por pensar otras cosas, EEEE 😩💀
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Para ver la actualización de Wooyoung, toca aquí
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daemour · 2 months ago
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(240229) SANA @ MCountdown Interview
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daemour · 2 months ago
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daemour · 2 months ago
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hehehhe me too the entire time i wrote this LOL ty smmmm <33
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♡ Event: @pirateeznet 2nd Anniversary Event
♡ Pairing: Farmhand! Choi San x home aide! f! Reader
♡ Genre: Harvest Moon AU, slight slow burn, fluff, slight angst, T for Teen
♡ Warnings: Cursing, some sexual innuendos at the end, that's it
♡ Summary: Working as a home aide on a farm brings you some new trials...namely a certain attractive farmhand named San.
♡ Word Count: 9277 (im SORRY)
♡ Genre: Regular Life ; Prompt: Coworkers
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This was supposed to be...a lot longer. LAMFIJGDFJKGHKJSHDF x) With both Hwa and Joong as other love interests...but I gotta learn how to restrain myself LOL. But I do have more planned with YN and San (and a little more spicy too hehe) so if you'd like to read that let me know!
it's a honker of a fic, so i really do hope you enjoy despite the plot holes LMAO
Thank you to @okiedokrie for beta'ing,,,the first draft lmaooo surprisee...its totally different lol
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“Are you serious?” you mutter, standing knee-high in a mud puddle. When you decided to move out of the city and stay with an elderly man as a home nurse on his farm temporarily, you expected to get dirty. But not like this, and not that soon. The wagon was only able to take you so far before you had to walk the rest of the way since it was technically private property or whatever the guy said. You didn’t quite remember his reasoning, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it hadn’t started pouring about five minutes after you started walking. Now you’re cold and wet, and mud is everywhere.
With a frustrated groan, you try and take another step, wincing at the feeling of the mud squelching in your shoes and soaking your socks through. You’re having regrets, but you’re sure the ailing older man is having worse issues than wet socks and shoes and you power through. After a long and gruelling walk, you finally see the cream building and connected barn and you sigh in relief.
“Oh, man, you look a mess,” a voice is heard from behind you and you shriek, dropping down to the ground and clutching at your heart. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. YN, right?”
You nod miserably. “Yeah. This is Aria farm?” You punctuate it with a sniff as you try to regain your dignity.
The man laughs, much more high-pitched than you expected. “Yup. I’m the farmhand, San.” He holds out his hand. “Need a hand up?”
With a shaky smile, you nod, grabbing his hand and letting him pull you up. His grip is strong, warm, and calloused, and you shoo away any unwanted thoughts. “Got caught in the rain?” San smiles apologetically like he was the one who brought the showers down upon you.
“Yeah, I sure did.” You return the smile with a weak one of your own. “Got dumped at the end of the road by the wagon, and not five minutes later I got poured on.”
San winces. “Oh, well, sorry that had to be your first welcome here. I’ll give that guy a talk later—he means no harm, just likes to play pranks.”
You grunt, not caring all that much about the villagers in the town, pranks or not. You have no doubt that the wagoneer meant no harm, nor that the villagers aren’t nice, but most of your days will be spent cooped up with the old farmer in his house. Plus, you decided to move away from the city to get away from people and let your introversion take over.
It takes a moment for you to realise he’s expecting you to keep up a conversation. “How is Mr Takeru doing?”
San shrugs, his eyes continuously flickering back to you. “He’s doing fairly well, all things considered. The fall left him physically incapable of a lot, but his energy hasn’t dwindled at all.” There’s a fondness in his voice. “He’s happy to hear you’ll be coming. He loves having people around and his kids barely visit. To no fault of their own, of course. They’re all on different islands, farming as well and it’s hard to get away.”
You hum. You’ve heard of their family situation, how Takeru’s kids all followed in his footsteps to become farmers, and that their children also went on to become farmers. It’s interesting, and you sometimes wonder if it’s something they all wanted. “It’ll be nice for him to have someone around,” you tell an attentive San. “It would’ve been great for him if some of his family could see him, but I’m sure he’s excited anyway.”
As you talk to San, you don’t realise how quickly the two of you walk until you are already at the house’s porch. San opens the door, stepping in, but you hesitate for just a moment. You almost turn tail if it wasn’t for the warm smile San offers.
“Don’t worry, I promise Mr Takeru is super nice. And I’ll always be happy to keep you company.” His eyes crinkle as his smile widens even further, and you can’t help but feel your face warm at how sweet he is.
“I’ll have to hold you to that, then.”
-
“Are you going to the flower festival tomorrow?” San catches you right when you go out to grab the mail.
You tilt your head as you flip through the many letters. Nothing of too much importance, just a couple of notices from the local stores. You see a letter from one of Mr Takeru’s kids and you smile at the sight of it before realising you hadn’t responded to San. “The what?”
“Flower festival,” San repeats himself, a smile growing on his face. It always seems to be there when you see the farmhand. “It’s a holiday where couples enjoy the cherry blossoms together and all.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “San, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not quite part of the couples demographic.” The farmhand’s eyes sparkle at your joke, but his gaze does not waver.
“You could go with me,” he suggests and you choke on the spot. “I’m being serious! It’s a really nice time and it’d be a shame if you missed it.”
You sigh, glancing behind you. “We’ll see. I might be busy tomorrow.”
San still smiles triumphantly at your answer. “If you do decide to come, I’ll meet you at the church grounds at seven.” And before you can even respond, he winks and walks away, making sure to flex his back muscles. If you can’t rip your eyes away, that's your own problem.
As the clock ticks closer and closer to six, you get more and more antsy. You’re still debating whether to go. One part of you wants to go so he won’t wait in vain, but the other part of you wants to avoid all sorts of contact with people. Every time you go and buy groceries for Mr Takeru, the villagers all stop to stare at you. And you know it’s partly your fault for never trying to get to know them, but you really would rather stay a hermit.
But San, he was different. Although you’ve only been here for a few weeks, San seems to have taken an interest in you. He’s always finding an excuse to talk to you, be it lunch break or asking to pass a message to Mr Takeru. You’re not quite sure what his motive is, but you’re not complaining. He’s good-looking, kind, and makes an effort to get to know you. Perhaps you should return the kindness.
When the clock strikes half past six, you know it’s the last moment before you can make your decision. After a moment’s hesitation, you call up the stairs “Mr Takeru, I’ll be going out! Do you have everything you need?”
You can hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “Mmh, I’ve got my cane so I’m all good. Going to the festival, I see?”
“Bye, Mr Takeru” You roll your eyes good-naturedly even if he can’t see it, grabbing your bag and practically launching yourself out the door. If you run, you’ll make it just in time.
You’re sure you look crazy, running down the streets while attempting to pull your hair away from your face to no avail, but time is of the essence. You manage to smile at the villagers who wave at you, but you’re panting hard and you think your legs might fall off as you take the church steps three at a time.
As you catch your breath, you can see San out of the corner of your eye approaching with the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face. “You came!”
You open your mouth to respond but all that comes out is a hack from the lack of air in your lungs. San laughs, reaching over to pat you on the back as you take a moment to catch your breath. “My gosh, I am not cut out for running,” you gasp, finally straightening up and brushing your hair out of your face.
San’s hands slow as he shifts them lower to rest at the small of your back. “Well, I’m glad you made it anyway. Come sit with me and my friends. They’ll be happy to see you came.”
Without giving you a moment to protest, San sweeps you away towards the back corner of the courtyard. The two people sitting on a blanket you recognise—the farmer you buy your groceries from and the bartender who walks past Mr Takeru’s farm on the way to work in the afternoon, and neither of their names you ever got.
“Guys, this is YN,” San introduces you and you give a little wave as they chorus your name with ‘hi’s. “This is Wooyoung, and that’s Yunho.” He points to the bartender and the farmer respectively.
“Good to finally get your name,” Yunho smiles at you, a bright smile lighting up his face. “You’ve been shopping with me for what, two weeks now?”
You laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, just about.” You silently beg for the topic to change because San is sensitive about how you buy groceries elsewhere since a storm destroyed most of the farm’s crops. “What does one do at the flower festival?”
Wooyoung and Yunho exchange a glance between each other, their eyes soft. “Generally couples sit together and watch the flowers fall and talk about each other. At the end, you pick up a blossom and blow it after making a wish,” Yunho explains, the corner of his lips pulling up as Wooyoung leans into his body. “I’m here with Wooyoung.”
He immediately realises this is not the best thing to say as your face heats up and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. “You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship to go, of course!” San immediately rectifies, his hands shooting out to smack Yunho in the shoulder. “I always go with friends.”
A smile pulls at your lips even though you’re still a little awkward at the revelation. “Well, thank you for inviting me anyway,” you bow slightly. “It’s nice to get a little scenery difference.”
Wooyoung laughs at that. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you away from the farm since you arrived, barring your visits to Marimba and Horn Ranches.” You duck your head shyly and San swoops to your rescue.
“Not that you’re any better, Wooyoung. All you do is work and go home to sleep,” San teases. “Except when Yunho makes you go outside, of course.”
Both Wooyoung and Yunho immediately blush red and you laugh at the sight. “You two are cute together though,” you compliment. “Hopefully one day I can have a relationship like yours.” You miss the soft gaze sent your way by San, but neither Wooyoung nor Yunho do and they exchange a look before smiling back at you.
“I’m sure you will one day.”
-
It’s pouring buckets out there and even San has taken the day off. There’s nothing to do on the farm other than feed the animals, and the day before San had put extra food in their buckets for that occasion exactly. Mr Takeru is fast asleep and all you’re doing is sitting in the living room and trying to focus on reading. But it’s not coming to you.
With a sigh, you put your book back down and move to stand near the window, staring at the bleary landscape. That’s when you see it. A little glimmer of light right by the bending tomato plants. You narrow your eyes, unsure if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but then it happens again. Now you’re sure something is out there, and against your better judgement, you’re going to find out what it is.
With another glance towards Mr Takeru, who doesn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon, you pull on a raincoat and open the front door. The wind almost slams it shut but you catch it just in time, slipping out of the house and closing it gently instead.
The wind is practically bullying you as you make your way slowly over to the garden. When you finally reach the plants, you squint but can’t seem to find anything, but you swear you saw something. Your eyes dart around to see if you can find it again, and another sparkle catches your eye further down the road.
You cast a glance back at the house, inner debate raging in you. But at heart, you’re forever a toddler and you go chase after the pretty lights.
The farther you go, the more you’re starting to regret your choices. But you’re too far to find your way back—although you’ve been here for almost a month now, you’re not all that well-versed in where things are around this island. Yet another point into why you should’ve just stayed at the farm.
With a groan, you take another step closer, making your way through a tunnel of trees. The rain only seems to get heavier but you can still see the faint sparkling but not much around it and you step closer.
Suddenly, the rain melts away to reveal a little grove and a giant tree standing tall and proud. The only thing that tells you were just in the rain is the fact that you’re soaking wet. You blink, step back, and the rain falls around you again. Another step forward, and the sun is shining again.
You rub your eyes, sure you must be going crazy. But the sunny area is still in front of your eyes. As much as your brain is screaming at you to turn back and make your way home, your curiosity gets the better of you. You take a few steps closer, marvelling at the old spring on either side of the stone pathway you’re on.
You’ve heard of the stories of the fae and magic surrounding this island, mostly from Mr Takeru himself, but you always chalked it up to him being old, as much as you thought it would be nice for it to be real. And here you are, standing in the middle of what can only be called magic surrounding you.
The area looks almost unoccupied, with more of the sparkles that drew you out of the house in the first place flitting around. You take a couple of steps closer when someone steps out from behind the tree. “What are you doing here?” You don’t recognise the figure standing in front of you, with perfectly coiffed hair and a frown upon his pouting lips.
You blink at him. “Uh, I was taking a walk and ended up here. What is this place?”
The blonde man blinks at you. “You don’t know? It’s the Goddess Spring, home of the tree that powers our island. Though…I guess you are new here.”
You frown, cocking your head. “Sorry if I seem rude, but I don’t think I’ve met you. Who are you?”
The stranger’s piercing blue eyes widen and he laughs, waving his hands. “Oh my, I can’t believe I forgot my manners. I’m Park Seonghwa, son of the mayor of this little island. My father speaks highly of you and how well you care for Mr Takeru.”
His hand is firm and warm although his palms are softer than San’s. “Nice to meet you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him warmly. “Your father speaks proudly of you as well.”
You can’t believe you haven’t made the connection. Seonghwa isn’t the spitting image of his father per se, but they look similar enough to each other, especially in their eyes. Mayor Gil and Seonghwa both have the same stare.
The young man smiles again, shaking his head. “My father can be passionate. Now that he’s older, he tells me he has less grievances against the world. But I am curious—what are you doing here? It’s still pouring out there.”
You shrug, a little embarrassed. “I was just following some…uh…sparkles.”
“Sparkles? Nothing else?” Seonghwa’s facial expression shifts to one of curiosity. Your eyebrows furrow at his intensity and his features soften as he chuckles. “Ah, I don’t mean to alarm you. This island has a rich history behind this little grove. Are you busy?”
You shrug, glancing behind you. “No, not really. I’m not really in the mood to walk all the way back to the farm in the rain. I’m a big history fan anyway.”
Seonghwa shrugs, gesturing to the stone bench up further on the stone pathway. “Come and sit then. The story starts with this tree.”
To be honest, you don’t understand much of what Seonghwa explains. Something about bells and trees powering the island, and how only the line of mayors and Mr Takeru’s family can see the magic. But Seonghwa seems so passionate about it, and you have no reason to disbelieve it, not when you’ve witnessed the grove itself, so you just smile and nod and do your best to comprehend.
Seonghwa is finishing up his story of how Mr Takeru single-handedly revived the island when he takes a glance at his watch and gasps. “I’ve kept you far too long,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sure the rain has stopped, you should make your way back to the farm before it gets dark.”
Your brows furrow, glancing up to see the sun getting close to the west. “Oh, crap,” you gasp, “I need to start dinner. Do…do you happen to know the way back to the farm? I didn’t quite see how I got here.”
Seonghwa chuckles. “Yes, you can just take a left out here and follow the path down the mountain. It should lead you to the pond right by Aria Farm. I’ll see you around town, then.”
You nod, promising him to try and find time to visit him in town before booking your way out of the grove. He was right, the rain had slowed to a drizzle that hardly bothered you. You’re making your way down the mountain, rushing so much you can hardly enjoy the view you missed on your way up.
As soon as the blue roof of the farmhouse comes into vision, you can’t help but smile to yourself at the familiar sight. Your little adventure was fun but now it’s time to go back. As you unlock the door and swing it open, your vision is immediately blocked by a firm, warm chest and strong arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “YN, where were you?”
San’s worried voice reaches your ears and your initial shock wears off as you tilt your head back to look at him. “I went on a walk and found some grove near the mountains,” you explain honestly, and San’s eyebrows raise into his bangs.
“A walk? YN, are you insane? I came around to make sure you both were okay and Mr Takeru told me he didn’t know where you had gone. It was a crazy storm out there too. You have to be careful, YN. I– you could’ve gotten hurt.”
San’s arms tighten around your shoulders and your face heats up as you pat his back awkwardly. “Well, I agree it was pretty stupid of me, but I’m fine and here! I won’t do it again, I promise,” you try and cheer him up while also doing your best to wriggle out of his grip. It’s embarrassing for you to be so close, you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off of your ears. He’s too hot for you to be this close to and you need some space before you combust.
You finally manage to untangle yourself, offering a smile to ease the distance between the two. “How long were you waiting for me, anyway?”
San sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. “Maybe just about three hours? I think I was about ten minutes away from going out to look for you myself. I mean, the rain only stopped an hour ago, it’s understandable I was worried.”
He’s trying to convince himself more so than you, but you can’t really blame him. You would’ve been the same way in his shoes. You try not to think about what would happen if he had suddenly disappeared in the rain. “No, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” you shake your head, glancing away in guilt. “I just thought something was out there and went on a wild goose chase. Turns out it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. But in the grove I went to, I finally met the mayor’s son.”
San’s expression shifts to one of understanding. “Seonghwa? He’s nice, I’m glad you’ve met him.” He finally smiles back, softly, but shakes his head as if remembering where he is. “Er, I suppose I should let you go have dinner now. You must be hungry.”
He slips out of the door before you can even respond, the thought of inviting him for dinner only popping into your head as he’s already halfway down to the river, his form glowing gold in the sunset. You poke your head out to call for him, but your nerves get the better of you and you just watch him grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
“You should go for it.” A hoarse voice interrupts your swirling thoughts and you turn back to see Mr Takeru leaning on his cane and smiling kindly at you. “You’re young, and pretty. Anyone can see clear as day that San likes you. You know, he was quite worried when you were out.”
You swear there is steam radiating off of your face. “Ah, Mr Takeru, don’t get my hopes up,” you laugh. “There’s no way San sees me as much more than a friend. Now, let’s get dinner started, no?”
Mr Takeru just sighs, a melancholy smile on his face. “You should run right after him before it’s too late, you know. But yes, let’s have dinner YN.”
-
You stand in front of the door of the mayor’s house, debating whether to walk in or not. When you received an invitation for lunch from Seonghwa earlier this morning, he had assured you that you could walk right in without knocking, but you felt a little too awkward to do that.
“What are you doing here?” A sharp voice startles you and you jump, looking over your shoulder guiltily. A silver-haired man with sharp eyes and thick robes gazes at you with an uninterested expression on his face.
“Ah– Seonghwa invited me for lunch here,” you explain, glancing back at the door.
Before you can say anything, the strange, eccentric man brushes past you, the many bracelets and necklaces he has on jingling. “Well, then. He’s up to one of his schemes to get me to socialise again. He invited me for lunch too. Come on in.”
He swings the door open, stepping inside the house and you stare at him with wide eyes before scurrying after him. The outside of the house is filled with flowers lining the stepping stones, but the inside of the house is more mature in decor, with dark oak tables and brown wallpaper. The stranger glances at you, having noticed your eyes wandering the decor and he laughs shortly. “Quite the juxtaposition of interior and exterior, no? Mayor Gil’s late mother had designed the inside and so the mayor hasn’t had the heart to change it.”
You’re about to respond when one of the doors to your right slams open, revealing Seonghwa standing there with messy hair and a sullen look on his face. “Sorry, I’m going to have to cancel lunch. My father has fallen ill with cow fever. YN, I’m so sorry to have to turn you away but I don’t want you to catch it, or Mr Takeru for that matter.” He heaves a sigh, then turns to the stranger. “Hongjoong, could you do me a favour and bring me some medicine?”
The man—Hongjoong—nods sharply and spins on his heel, striding out the door without a moment’s hesitation. You falter just a moment, shooting Seonghwa a quick smile and ‘hope your father feels better soon’ before following Hongjoong’s steps out the door.
On your way home, you can’t help but wonder…what on earth is cow fever? You’ve never heard of such a thing. You’re too lost in thought you almost don’t see San waving at you from afar. “Ah, hey San!” you greet him with a quick wave and a smile. “Did you have lunch yet?”
A shrug is your answer and you laugh at San’s nonchalance. “Nah, I was just about to head out for some, though. How was your lunch?”
You shake your head. “It had to be cancelled. Mayor Gil came down with the cow fever, so we decided to reschedule.”
A pout forms on San’s face. “Well, I hope he gets better. Cow fever is no joke. But hey, since you didn’t have lunch, would you like to join me?”
Although it would mean you’d have to walk back to town, you can’t say ‘no’ to the smile on San’s face. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” you grin. “Inn? Do you want to get sandwiches and eat on the dock?”
The smile on San’s face widens. “It’s almost like you’re reading my mind. Let’s eat on the dock.”
Without another word, he hooks his arm around yours and pulls you in the direction of the barn. “Ah– San, the town is the other way, you know.”
San laughs again, loud and bright. “Yeah, I know. We’ll take Emma.”
It takes a moment to register. “The cow? San, are you crazy?” you gasp, but there’s still a giggle present in your tone. “First, we have a horse. Second, I don’t even know how to ride a horse, much less a cow!”
“That doesn’t matter,” San grins impossibly wider, his dimples deep. “Emma’s sweet, she’s an easier ride than Princess. Plus, I want Princess to have some more bonding time with her foal. Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”
You groan good-naturedly but can’t keep the smile off your face as the two of you approach the well-mannered cow. “Fine,” you agree. “How do I get on?”
Instead of answering your question like a normal human being, San places his hands on your waist. For a moment, you’re lost in his firm grip, but it doesn’t last long as he lifts you and places you on Emma’s back, a shriek emitting from your mouth. “San!” you laugh, looking down to see San’s eyes crinkling as he chuckles and pats your thigh. “Warn me next time!”
“So there’ll be a next time?”
“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” you scold lightly, turning away so he won’t see your flushing cheeks. “Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”
You can hear San laugh to himself one more time before hopping up behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist. Immediately, your mind is taken back to that rainy day almost a month ago when he hugged you and your cheeks burn even more. “Hold on tight,” San hums, leaning forward till his lips are right by your ear.
And once again, he doesn’t give you time to mentally prepare before Emma runs down the path towards the town. You’re terrified, hands gripping so tightly on San’s that you’re sure your nails will leave indents. But somehow, you’re enjoying yourself taking a wild ride on a cow of all things. Maybe it helps that San’s body is pressed against yours and you can feel the heat radiating off him.
You’re practically in a daze when you reach the town, San lifting you off Emma much more gently than when he put you on her. “You good?” he asks, and you snort, shaking your head fondly.
“God, I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you made me do that. But yes, I’m good. More than good, even. That was fun.” You chuckle mostly to yourself, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “Come on, let’s eat.”
It’s your turn to grab San’s warm hand and pull him in the direction of the inn, the little bell tinkling as you step inside. Mai smiles at the two of you, waving you both over to her station. “Hello, you two. Looking for some lunch this fine morning?”
“Yep,” San leans on the counter with his elbow, ignoring the glare the head chef, Chihaya, sends him. Mai hides her smile extremely badly. “Could I get the tuna sandwich? And whatever YN’s getting.”
Your head snaps towards him. “Oh, no, no, San, don’t worry about it. I can pay for my own,” you decline as quickly as you can, but he raises an eyebrow in response.
“It’s my treat, YN. Don’t fight me on this, I’ll win. I invited you out, so it’s only right I pay.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “But–”
“No buts, okay? Don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of paying for the both of us. Let me do this, YN. Just order, okay?” San holds up a hand, and you know he’s won.
With a sigh, you concede. “Fine. But next time, I’ll pay, and no buts.” San raises his hands in defeat. Satisfied, you turn back to Mai. “Could I get an egg sandwich?”
Mai chuckles, writing down your order in her little notebook. “It’s cute to see you two together. Poor San has been lonely for a long time.”
“We’re not dating,” you quickly correct her, face heating up in embarrassment.
“And I’m not lonely!” San interjects, pout on his face, and his cuteness in that moment makes you forget how awkward you were about Mai’s statement.
“Okay,” Mai chirps, clearly disbelieving the two of you, but before you can refute any longer, Chihaya stalks over, handing the two of you nicely wrapped sandwiches.
“Mai, stop bothering them. You two, go eat. See you later,” he shuts down the conversation, waving the two of you away.
Both San and you exchange a look before quickly leaving the inn, Mai’s sweet giggles trailing behind the two of you until the door shuts behind you. “Well then. Dock?”
You snort, nodding. “Dock.”
You skip your way through town to the dock, empty aside from the local fisherman about to head inside for his own lunch break. The wind isn’t too harsh today, something you appreciate so that the sea’s waves don’t get close to your feet. Neither you nor San feel the need to talk as you work through your lunches, the food delicious enough to keep your mouths occupied.
You finish your sandwich much earlier than San, leaning back on your arms as you sneak a peek at his side profile while he continues to eat, unaware. Something about his focused gaze on his sandwich seems to draw your gaze. As you wait, you can’t help but think back to Mai’s words, unable to keep your mind from daydreaming about Choi San.
Ever since that fateful day in the rain, the hug he had given you keeps popping up in your mind at the most inopportune times…like right now. You can already feel heat rising to your face once again and you quickly focus your eyes on the horizon to do your best to rid yourself of such thoughts.
You can’t afford to like San, not like that. Not when you have no idea what you’re going to do after this job, or even where you’ll go. This little island feels more like home than the big city did, but you don’t know where your life could fit in here. Not when it feels like everyone already has their place in the town.
“What are you thinking about?” You blink yourself back to reality, where San has finished his sandwich and is looking at you with such a fond look in his eyes. “You look lost in your head.”
You shrug, bringing your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. “I don’t know…” you murmur, a melancholy smile playing on your lips. “Just the future, I guess. What I’ll do later.”
San hums, his hand coming to rest close to your own, and you push back thoughts of grasping his worn, warm palm. “I get it. Before I started working for Mr Takeru, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do either. I bounced from ranch to ranch, even started over at Marimba Farm for a time until Mr Takeru offered me a job.”
“Is that where you met Yunho?”
At your question, San chuckles. “Yeah. He hired me at Marimba when it was first starting out, then recommended me to Mr Takeru after he was able to manage it with the help of Wooyoung. Yunho is one of my oldest friends here.”
“It must be nice to have that close of a friend,” you state, more to yourself than anything, but San hears you anyway, his brows furrowing with light concern. “Say…who’s Hongjoong? I met him briefly at Seonghwa’s before I had to go home. I’ve never seen him around before.”
San hums, tilting his head so he can look into your eyes more clearly. You fight to keep the blush of your cheeks. “Hongjoong runs the clinic, and does fortune telling on the side. He’s descended from a long line of wizards, and his paternal family has run the clinic for a very long time. Why?”
You shrug. “I heard something about him getting medicine for Mayor Gil. Thought it might be interesting to talk to him about the island’s medical practices. Since I’m a nurse and all.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little curious too. He dresses nothing like the other islanders.”
San chuckles alongside you. “His robes are the traditional wear for the wizards of this island. He does quite enjoy talking about the history behind them, so you should ask him about it some time. Any other trivia I can answer for you?”
His tone is light, teasing, and you snort and shove at his shoulder. “Shut up, can’t a girl be curious? I get it, you don’t like me.”
“You and I both know that’s the furthest thing from true.” San shakes his head, and you freeze, aware of what he’s implying.
“San–” You’re unsure of what to say. “I’m–”
“You don’t have to say anything,” San laughs, leaning in to tap his forehead against yours. “Not right now, at least. I’ll give you time to think about it. Now come on, let’s get back to the farm.”
Before you can blink, he’s already on his feet and holding out a hand to help you stand. After a moment's hesitation, you reach out as well, placing your hand in his. As he pulls you up, he leans forward to press his lips against the side of your head and you duck your head, heat rushing to your face.
The walk home is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Instead of riding Emma back, San lets her amble along the path on her own. You walk side by side, fingertips not quite brushing, stealing glances at each other and soft smiles. Maybe it's because he finally put words to what the two of you have, but you can’t help but wonder exactly why both of you are suddenly so open with how much you care for each other.
As he walks you to the front door of the farmhouse, he clears his throat, obviously wanting to say something. You turn to him expectantly, taking note of the nervousness in his eyes. “YN…” he mumbles, a far cry from the confident man he was on the dock. “No matter how you end up feeling, please don’t leave the island because of it. Everyone here likes you, even though you don’t really know them well. And Mr Takeru is terribly fond of you. Don’t let me influence your life too much, okay?”
You sigh, body visibly relaxing. “Of course not, San. I’ve grown to love it here. I don’t think even you can keep me away.”
San chuckles at your feeble attempt at a joke, out of pity, you think. “Okay, okay. Have a good day, YN.”
You close the door behind you, smiling to yourself subconsciously. “Miss YN, is that you?” Mr Takeru calls out, and you shake your head, willing your brain to clear up before quickly making your way to your employer.
“I’m here, Mr Takeru!”
-
You awkwardly stand at the bar, waiting for Wooyoung to finish up with a customer. The bar is the last place you would usually be, but you’re at a loss. San’s words have been replaying in your head since that fateful day on the dock, and you haven't spoken to him since. Not that he’s bothered by it. True to his word, San had been giving you space, only exchanging soft, sweet, ‘good morning’s and gentle smiles.
As each day passed, you knew what your answer would be, but then a letter arrived today from your agency back home. A reminder your contract was almost up. You knew you had to make a decision, fast.
“All right, what’s going on in your head, missy?” Wooyoung’s voice breaks you out of your swirling thoughts. “You look like you’re about to be sick, and I don’t want to have to take you to the doctor’s.”
You open your mouth, close it again, and then reopen. “Wooyoung, do you know if the clinic has any job openings?”
Wooyoung furrows his brow, frowning. “Well, you’ve picked the worst person to ask this question to. I’ve never gone to the clinic before, and Hongjoong never comes in here. But they might. Hongjoong’s grandfather recently retired, so as Mr Van takes his role, there might be a job opening soon. I think Mao was thinking about volunteering there, though. You’d have to talk to Hongjoong about it. Why?”
You hesitate, eyes moving from side to side. No one is close enough to hear you over the music. “Did San talk to you at all in the past week?”
Understanding dawns in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Ah. He told us what happened, but let me hear what you think of it. All our regulars are here already so I won't have to make any more drinks for a while.”
A sigh makes its way out of your throat. “My contract with Mr Takeru is ending soon. The easy answer is to renew, but what about after that? I don’t know where I could work, other than the hospital, and if Mao wants to work there, I don’t want to take that opportunity away from him.”
Wooyoung laughs. “I said he would volunteer, not work. He’s the fisherman’s son, the sea is in his blood. But even if you don’t work at the clinic, San would probably be happy to support you until you find something.”
You shake your head tiredly. “But I don’t want him to. He already works so hard, and I don’t want to make him feel obligated to help me, not when I’m capable of supporting myself and it’s just me overthinking.”
There’s a pause, and then Wooyoung dissolves into laughter. “YN, he would be helping you because he wants to. Hell, any of us would be willing to help you. Yunho could use someone to help him on his own farm, I’m sure Seonghwa would like to have a secretary, hell, I could use you as a server. You’re worrying too much about it. Things will work out if you want them to.”
You wince. “I know, I know. I just worry, you know.”
“Well, don’t,” Wooyoung teases. “Just talk to San. He’ll understand.”
“As always, your advice is impeccable,” you smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung, really.”
“It’s what I do,” Wooyoung winks, sliding a glass over. “Have a drink before you go, okay? I’m not getting paid to gossip, you know.”
You squint at him. “Don’t you own this bar?” All Wooyoung does is smile knowingly and nod towards the cup of…something. You take a tentative sip, and then another, and then it hits. The sweet but tangy flavour with a hint of bitterness from the alcohol. “Oh, this is good! What is it?”
“Raspberry cocktail,” he answers, way too proud of his creation. “I perfected the recipe today, as well as a few others. You should try those ones too.”
You laugh, downing the rest of your drink. “Sure, sure, go ahead. I’m almost never here anyway.”
Wooyoung practically vibrates in excitement, moving around the kitchen in a dash to prepare your next drink. You’re on your third drink and too busy laughing at Wooyoung’s antics to notice the presence behind you. When Wooyoung slides you your next drink, you ask, “Which one is this?”
“This one is your last drink,” a firm voice speaks up and you snap your head around, startled, to come face to face with San. “You still have work tomorrow, YN, you can't get too drunk.”
“Hey, Sanah,” you beam up at him, unbothered by his close proximity. You blame it on the alcohol. His eyes soften as he looks down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “I was just talking about you!”
“Oh, were you?” San leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “All good, I hope. Come on, finish your drink and let’s get you home.”
Without much further prompting, you down the rest of your drink and wave at Wooyoung, who is watching the two of you with an amused expression plastered on his face. “Bye, now,” he sing-songs, “get home safe.”
San rolls his eyes good naturedly, nodding at Wooyoung and sliding some money over to pay for your few drinks. “Have a good night, Youngah.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, helping you stand and pulling you out of the inn. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
You hum, turning your head to press your face into his shoulder. “I dunno,” you mumble into him, breathing in the smell of his soap. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I end up out of a job. You’re too perfect, I can’t drag you down.” You don’t mean to say all this, but the alcohol is still coursing through your system and the courage still sits in your stomach.
San intakes a sharp breath. “What do you mean by that?”
You shrug. “You have a job, a life here. I’m here temporarily. When my contract ends next month, what am I supposed to do? I don’t want to go back to the city and leave you here, but I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do here.”
San sighs, letting his head sit atop yours, his cheek pressed against your hair. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I wouldn’t mind if you went back to the city if you visited. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed with me until you get back on your feet if you decide to end your contract. Hell, I’m sure Mr Takeru would be happy to employ you on his own dime, or someone else in town would take you on. But I’m glad you came to me, okay? I want to help you.”
You can feel your eyes stinging, and you curse yourself for drinking so much that it makes you too emotional for your liking. “Okay,” you concede with a soft voice. “Thank you, San.”
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Of course, YN,” he smiles, and although you can’t see it, you hear it in his voice. “Now let’s talk later, okay? You need to go to bed.”
“Later sounds good,” you sigh, letting your body weight lean even more against San’s broad shoulders. “See you later.”
“Not right now,” San chuckles. “We’re almost home, come on. As much as it’s safe on the island, it’s chilly tonight, and I think you’d probably prefer sleeping in a bed.”
“Hmm, bed,” you repeat, yawning. “I like the idea.”
“I’m sure you do.”
The rest of the night is mostly calm, save for San convincing you to go to the bathroom to change, and not undressing in front of him. As he helps you brush your hair as you sit on your bed, you can’t help but to reach up and put your hands on his waist.
“You know, I really like you,” you mumble. The alcohol has almost faded, but the tiredness has hit and you’re just as loopy as if you were still drunk. “I hope you know that.”
San chuckles, his hands slowing to a stop in your hair. “I do, YN. I do.” He leans down, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turns to leave, but not until you grab his wrist. “Wait! What about here?” you pout, pointing to your lips, and San arches an eyebrow, a smile toying at the corners of his lips and a laugh threatening to escape.
“Maybe tomorrow, if you ask me, okay? Good night, YN.” And with that, he leaves you to sleep, a smile plastered onto your face as you dream of his touch.
When you reawaken, you feel fully rested, yawning as you slip out of bed quickly and easily. A quick glance at your clock tells you it’s almost noon and you curse yourself for drinking so heavily. You’re never letting Wooyoung talk you into such a thing again.
As you make your way out of your room, you find Mr Takeru sitting on the couch. “Miss YN, come sit with me, okay? I want to talk to you.”
You pause, heart freezing. “Ah– sure, Mr Takeru. Nothing bad, I hope.”
The older man chuckles, waving his hand. “Of course not. This is something both Wooyoung and San have come to me about.”
You blink. “Ah.” You’re going to kill Wooyoung, and think about killing San (You’re too attached to him to follow though).
Mr Takeru laughs again. “I said it wasn’t bad, child, don’t look like you’re about to faint, please. San had expressed his affection for you to me, and Wooyoung has talked about how, in his words, ‘both of them are dumb as rocks and won’t date yet’. I’m quite aware that your contract with me is ending soon.” He pauses to take in a breath. “I would like to offer you a job with me off contract. That means you won’t be with your agency anymore.”
You blink at him. “I…I’m sorry, it’s a lovely offer, and I’m quite inclined to take it, but can I ask why? I mean, it would be cheaper for you to hire from the agency, and I’m sure I could figure something else out.”
“Miss YN, I’m sure you’re well aware I am not in much need of money. San runs the farm beautifully, and even though he is paid generously, the earnings far exceed what I need. And, as I have talked to Mayor Gil, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, the clinic is happy to contract you so that in the case that I no longer require your services, you may work with them.”
You blink at him, your lower lip quivering. It takes you a moment to compose yourself, and Mr Takeru waits patiently. “The offer is so generous, and I would be a fool to decline it. I really do appreciate it, Mr Takeru.”
Your boss smiles. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Think of it as a favour to San as well. He’s worked for me for so long, he’s like one of my own grandchildren.” He pauses, letting out a yawn. “Now, go find him and tell him the good news, okay? I’d like to take a long nap.”
With a moment to compose yourself, you stand from the couch. “Thank you again, Mr Takeru,” you repeat sincerely. “I’ll prep lunch and put it in the fridge for when you wake up, okay?”
He waves you away, already getting ready to lay down on the couch. “Don’t worry about it. Mayor Gil is coming around to have lunch with me, and he’ll bring me something from the inn.” With another yawn, you know your conversation is over, and you spin on your heel and race out of the house, only one thing on your mind.
“San, are you in here?” you call out as you reach the ajar barn doors. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’ll be right down, just filling up the dispenser.” You can hear San’s voice from the loft and you look up, squinting through the sunrays filtering through the holes in the roof. The carpenters have been working on fixing that before the next rain.
Your gaze is drawn away by San climbing down the ladder, an extra bale of hay perched on his shoulders. As he turns around and you catch a glimpse of his face, your breath catches in your throat.
There wasn't ever a time where you thought sweat and grime on a person could be attractive…at least until right at this very moment. Sweat is glistening on his face, dripping off his cheekbones and chin, and all you can think about is swiping your tongue over his lips to taste it. The sight of it only serves to remind you of your drunken request to San, and his one condition that you ask him about it the next day.
“YN? Is there something you wanted to ask me?”
You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Can I get my kiss now?”
That was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it’s too late to rectify it, so you’re left looking up at a dumbfounded San. The silence goes on for just a tad too long and you’re too embarrassed to face him now, so you turn on your heel and start to exit the barn, hopefully to drown your sorrows and yourself in the hot spring.
Before you can even step foot onto the threshold, however, San grabs your arm and gently tugs you into his warm chest. “Now wait just a moment,” he hums, chest vibrating against your back. His smell fills your mind and you tilt your gaze up to see him looking right back at you with such warmth in his eyes. “I didn’t give you your kiss yet.”
“Oh–” is all you manage to squeak out before San’s lips are on yours and you immediately melt into the kiss. His arm pulls you even closer against his body, his lips soft and inviting. “San–”
He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, his mouth capturing every sound escaping past your lips. You can feel every breath against your lips, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. Slowly, you part your lips for him and he wastes no time to map out your mouth, taking the air out of your lungs at how desperately he kisses.
As you fall deeper into his embrace, your arms come to loop around his waist, resting by his hips as your hands grip onto his shirt. His own hands roam up and down your sides, gripping at your waist and keeping you pulled against him. One of them finds its way to your face, cupping it with a gentleness that rivals the roughness of his mouth.
You could stay here like this for hours, but your lungs disagree, and after they scream at you for some air, you finally pull away, gasping softly as you lean your forehead against San’s. “San,” you call his name again, although this time your words aren’t interrupted by his lips but your lack of air. You take in one more breath, San waiting patiently as he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky yourself. “San, I like you. And I’m sure I’m just stating the obvious, but again, I do. I want to stay here with you, and just this morning Mr Takeru has offered me a personal contract with him. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
San laughs, his hand on your waist moving up to stroke your cheek. “I know, YN. I asked Mr Takeru to make you the offer. Or, to be more precise, I implied that he should make you the offer, and I did that because Wooyoung implied to me to do that.” He tilts his head to press a short and sweet kiss to your lips again, chuckling to himself at how you follow his lips when he pulls back.
“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes good-naturedly, nodding as you lean up on your tiptoes to try and steal another kiss. “Nothing will ever be kept secret with his big mouth. Can we go back to kissing now? It’s easier.”
You can practically see the eagerness shine to San’s eyes. Instead of an answer, he tilts his head down to meet your waiting lips. This time, though, your makeout session is sadly cut short.
“So you two are finally together?”
You’re not too embarrassed to admit you shrieked, jumping out of your skin and burying your face in San’s chest. You can hear both San and Seonghwa chuckle, San’s arm tightening around your body. “Thanks to you, Seonghwa,” San hums. “We both really appreciate your role in this.”
“It’s no problem whatsoever. And as surly as Hongjoong can be, he’s happy to have someone else on board. But I’ll let you two get back to…talking. I was just passing through to have lunch with the jeweller. Have a good day, you two.” With a wave that you see out of the corner of your eye, Seonghwa leaves.
“I’m never going back to the town hall again,” you mumble against San’s shirt. “I can’t face Seonghwa again.”
San rubs your back with a comforting hand, although you can feel his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I’m sure he understands, YN. Plus, look on the bright side. At least he didn’t walk in on a more intimate moment.”
Your head snaps up, heat blooming in your cheeks as you slap his shoulder. “San! We’re in the barn!”
A smirk is the only warning you get before San wraps both his arms around you and hoists you into the air, ignoring your squeal. “My house is just across the creek, you know. We don’t have to be in the barn.” You swear he can see how flustered you are just by your expression, and it only seems to egg him on. His one hand moves down to hold you up by your thighs, and you don’t think your face could get any hotter. “Shall we celebrate?”
“San–” you start to decline, but then you pause, casting a glance over your shoulder. Seeonghwa is long gone, and you’re sure Mr Takeru and the Mayor will be talking for a good few hours. “...All right. But put me down!”
Laughing, San happily sets you on your feet, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. “I really am glad you decided to stay, YN. Thank you for choosing me.”
“And if given the chance, I would choose you over and over San.” You smile up at him, reaching up to cup his face and pull him in for yet another kiss. Although the future seems uncertain, you’ll be happy to navigate it with him by your side.
198 notes · View notes
daemour · 2 months ago
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MY JAW IS LITERALLY ON THE FLOOR HELLO?????
i literally was so into it aLL MY ATTENTION WAS FOCUSED ON THIS FIC AND THIS FIC ONLY it literally took me 20 minutes and yes i counted
im not gonna spoil it for anyone who happens to read the reblogs first but GANG THIS WS FUCKING PHENOMENAL IM LITERALLY SO AHDJFKHGKDHKDHK the amount of times i had to get up out of my sEAT??
i screamed in topaz's dms so this is a little show of how i reacted
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βҽąʂէ ąղժ Ͳհҽ βҽąմէվ
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🥀For the YOTV: Year of the Snake collab (ML) hosted by yours truly 🥀Pairing: The Beast! San x Belle! Reader (f) ft Shadow Men-at-Arms! YeoJoongMin 🥀Au: Beauty and The Beast Au, Fantasy au 🥀Genre: romance, smut, horror 🥀Trope: e2l 🥀Rated: 21+(very graphic, very dark), MINORS DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT 🥀Word Count: 14,814 🥀Summary: when your life is traded to a beast on a cursed winters night, you have no idea how exactly it is utter fate for a beast to fall in love with a beauty 🥀Soundtrack: enhypen's dark moon special album <memorabilia> the vibe is immaculate for this fic 🥀Beta's: @downtoamagicalland 🥀Author's Note: please note that the beginning of this fic starts out in 3rd person be reassured the majority of the fic is in 2nd pov!! Otherwise, i genuinely poured my heart and soul into this fic. I love Beauty and the Beast and it was so much fun to write a twisted version of it. Thank you to all my collab darlings who let me go on and on about it 💞 🥀Warnings below the cut!
🥀Warnings: insults, blood, death, violence/fighting, deception, mind games, manipulation, vomiting, threats of torture, taking one's life, choking, injuries from choking, intense descriptions of violence please be forewarned!!!, mental breakdown, vague mentions of nonconsensual touching, rape (not to reader)
🥀Kinks: dubcon, angry sex, predator/prey, scratch kink, bite kink, pet names (little one), public sex, size kink, dry grinding, dirty talk, choking kink, dumbification, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f), cum eating, blood kink
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An open wagon chugs its way through a dark and foreboding forest. In the seat are two shrouded figures, a father and his daughter. The cart is being drawn by their faithful gelding through the moonlight filtered by bone-fingerling branches. Not a creature stirs and that should have been the first clue that nothing was right that eerie evening.
“Father, you should make Phillip gallop.” The daughter places a hesitant hand on her father’s bicep. “I feel uneasy riding this late at night. You heard what the village people say about the forest.”
The father’s eyes glance around as the ground raises on one side of the cart in a soft incline of a hill. It appears as if he is looking for any danger that his daughter senses. “Phillip has been going all day, Belle. He won’t survive a gallop. If we push just a little farther--”
A snap cuts off the father’s words. 
Belle’s shoulders square. “Just a quick gallop, Father, let’s go.”
The father raises his hands as if he’s going to snap the reins to indicate to the gelding that they should gallop, when a wolf launches itself into the back of the open wagon.
Belle spins around in the wagon, eyes wide with fear. She watches as the wolf braces itself to jump at Belle next, so she raises her arms to protect herself. 
“Belle, no!” The father shouts, throwing down the reins and intercepting the wolf.
“Father!” Belle yells as she watches in horror as the wolf and her father fall down the hill that the dirt road is built on. 
At the same unfortunate moment, one of the wagon’s wheels hits a pothole and one of the spokes breaks. Phillip whinnies, scared, and rears, pulling the reins from the wagon. With the jolt of the wood breaking, the cart slides to the side of the hill and tumbles with Belle in it. 
The last thing Belle sees as she lies on the ground is her father stretching his hand out to her as the wolf, and its now gathering pack, surrounds her father. Red covers her eyes and then her vision fades to black.
~~~
You regain consciousness but everything is fuzzy, only slowly coming into focus. The first thing that you realize is that your mouth tastes like blood. Then a roar attacks your eardrums. Were they both from the crash? 
You push a board off of you and groan. You feel various cuts and bruises along your body. Finally, you see why you hear roaring. It is not because your eardrums are slowly dying, but instead there is a great beast battling with wolves. 
All you can see is from behind, but it has a great hairy back. Claws extend from its hands and twisted horns from its head. It slashes downward and you watch as blood flies as the monster slashes open the belly of the wolf, innards spilling from the open wounds. Another wolf pounces on the monster’s back, and the monster roars. It reaches behind itself and throws the wolf with such force that you hear the wolf’s back crack with the force of hitting the ground. 
The monster turns around and bellows a roar of triumph and you realize that you had been mistaken. The hair back is in fact a fur coat. This monster was very humanoid. He still has the talons and the horns, and now that you could see his face you see he has fangs, but his visage is the most devastatingly handsome face you have ever had the pleasure of viewing.
Except now that the monster has finished with the wolves, his eyes are on you. They are dark and as he takes a step forward, the moonlight reflects back, and you find yourself having a hard time swallowing.
You look around wildly and your eyes land on your father’s body. You scramble towards your father, ignoring all the pain that racks through your body. 
“Father, Father,” You chant, bringing his head to your lap, looking for any signs of consciousness.
“He is dead,” the monster states from behind you.
You whip your head back in his direction but he’s simply taken only a few more steps towards you. “Did you kill him?” You accuse sharply.
The monster appears shocked for only a moment before tipping his head back and letting out a deep belly laugh. His fangs shine with his mouth open and your lips form a firm, stubborn line. 
“Why do you laugh?”
The monster threw his arms out wide. “Why, I’m your savior, that’s why.”
You threw a look of pure disbelief his way. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“I was hunting this pack of wolves on my land. I came across you as I finally caught up with them. Your father made a bargain with me and so I fought the wolves to save you. I was unable to save him but you live.”
“A likely story,” you grumble. “How do I not know you guided these rapid wolves to attack and this is not a scheme?”
“Believe me or not,” The monster shrugs his great shoulders. “I will have your side of the bargain held up.”
Your body curls around your father, tears hitting his pale face. “What side of the bargain? He is dead.”
“He didn’t bargain for his life. He bargained for yours.”
Your head snaps upwards to stare at the monster who has continued to approach you. “You are to come with me to my castle and live with me for the remainder of your life as my prisoner.”
Your body begins to tremble but you don’t dare break the gaze of the monster as his boots come abreast of your kneeling form on the ground. You have to crane your neck and you almost fall backwards if not for one great clawed hand catching you. 
“There’s no way that my father would have done this,” You whisper, unable to comprehend what was going on right now. 
“He wished for you to live,” the monster says stoically. “It was his final wish.”
You shook your head, in denial to your fate. “He would rather I die then live as the prisoner of some monster!” you shout. 
The monster snorts and turns around on his heel. “Come, Prisoner. I hope you have enough energy left in the night to drag your father’s corpse because I will not carry him for you.”
You let out a shout, that was part grief and part anger. To your surprise, the monster turns around, face eager and excited. You spit at his feet and grab both wrists of your father. 
You grunt and start to pull your father’s dead body. You pull up flush with the monster, who has not moved since you had shouted, you send him an expecting look. 
“Well? I do not very well know where my prison is, do I? I have a long night ahead of me if you are as dumb as a beast is!” You yell.
The monster growls. “Watch your tone.” 
Towering what you thought was seven feet, the monster has long strides and so you have a hard time keeping up. The forest itself attempts to slow your pace by putting rocks in your path and encouraging the branches to claw at your hair. Each pain-staken drag has you grunting and shouting. It seems like days before you approach your destination. 
“Welcome to your new home,” the monster announces to your back. 
You drop your father’s wrists and brush the sweat from your brow with your arm. You turn around to gaze at your new home.
The castle poses an intimidating figure in the night light. It’s bone-white stones cut into the dark sky. Cone tops and paired with gargolyed corners give it a mixture of fairy tale and imposing doom. You’re not sure if it’s luring victims to their deaths or warning all to stay far away. Either way, it suits your dark mood very well at the moment. 
A scared whinny breaks the silence. 
“Phillip!” You shout, cupping your mouth. “I’m here, Phillip!”
The faithful family gelding gallops towards you, through the forest and halts before you. Your eyes tear up again as your fist curls in Phillip’s mane. “At least you’re not dead.”
“Seems like a beast is smart enough to find its mistress,” the monster says beside you, sarcasm dripping from his fangs.
You shoot him a dirty look. “I don’t suppose you might help me put my father on Phillip’s back? Or would an act of kindness kill you?”
The monster folds his arms over his very broad chest. “I’ve done all the acts of kindness this evening I can afford. I spared your life; that’s enough.”
“Insufferable, barbaric, prick!” You squeal in anger.
You rip a piece from your cloak, tie it around your father’s wrists and manage to pull your father up and over Phillip’s back. You grab Phillip’s reins and drudge towards the castle. 
“Stables are over there.” 
The monster extends a talon towards a small building and you shudder.
“I know what a goddamn stable looks like,” you snap.
“There is feed and water for the horse. I will wait out here until you return.”
You tug Phillip towards the stable. You drop your father in one stall and open another for Phillip. 
“I’ll come back for you, Father,” you say to the night air. 
Phillip hangs his head over the bottom half of the door and nickers softly. 
You press your forehead to his forelock. “You should have run away. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer a monster as a master,” You whisper.
“Prisoner!” The monster yells.
“Coming, my lord,” you say with an insult in your tone.
“Do you curtsy pretty as well?” The monster mocks you back.
You make a mocking face and stride past him up, past a fountain that you don’t spare a glance at, and climb the stairs to the huge door. Even the doorknock is a snarling beast. 
“Fitting,” You mumble under your breath. 
“Out of the way, you thoughtless creature,” The monster growls, sweeping you out of the way easily.
You stumble and find your footing before he pushes open the door with all his weight, the wood separating into two doors. 
The lobby is shabby and not as rich as it should appear. It has the air of rot and musk. The carpet is threadbare and the curtain’s moth ridden. There isn’t a roaring fire in the grand fireplace, nor are there servants racing to take their master’s coat. 
He removes it and chucks it to the middle of a splitting, sweeping staircase. You can imagine there was once a coat rack there but no longer. Instead, the coat catches the outstretched arm of a statue. 
The removal of his coat reveals a tattoo down his spine. The phases of the moon are painted there and you have a hard time not starring. 
“This way!” The monster snaps his fingers and summons you to follow him up the stairs.
“What, no cell in the dungeons?” You mince.
“No,” the monster states. “The dungeons would be too cozy for you. A nice room in a tower, where the wind can keep you company sounds perfect for you.”
You stop in your tracks. Surely he wasn’t serious. You began to look around at your broken surroundings, sure you could find a table leg to stab the monster in the back.
The monster chuckles. “Don’t think about trying to escape. I’ll be on top of you before you can scream in terror.”
“I’m not scared of you,” You deny immediately.
“No?”
The monster strides towards you and looms over you. His eyes are hooded as he stares down at you. “I could tear you limb from limb.”
“But you won’t. You made a bargain.”
The monster's eyes narrow down on you. “I am still capable.” To prove his point, he snaps his teeth a hair’s breadth from your nose.
You blink but remain steadfast. “Of course, my lord.”
“Come, let’s get you freezing to death. Perhaps you’ll show some proper deference when you want to be warm.”
The monster veers east and he almost disappears in the shadowed hallway. Almost.
You are indeed given a room at the top of a perilous tower. The wind whistles through the cracks of the stone, making a tapestry on the wall flutter. A broken window has heaps of snow along the shards of glass. There is a bed and a wardrobe and a vanity. At least there’s that.
You wriggle past the great shape of the monster and then stand in the middle of the room. You didn’t plan on showing an ounce of weakness to your captor. You pull the skirt of your dress to your sides and you bend your knees into a curtsy.
“Thank you for the roof over my head, my lord,” You simper. 
The monster roars back and slams the door. You run towards it and then stop as you hear a lock turn in place. You are truly trapped here as a prisoner of a cruel monster.
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“Is this the one?”
“Not much to look at, is she?”
“Are you sure she’s not…”
You feel something cold and fluttering against your side and frown. You curl further around yourself, in an attempt to keep your body warm. 
“Well, she’s still moving. You don’t suppose…?”
“Nah, there’s no way.”
“Did you check it?”
“Course I didn’t! He doesn’t let anyone near it!”
“Would be nice to know. I haven’t felt a tit since--”
You sat up quickly, now convinced the voices were not in your head. 
“What the hell?” You shout.
Three shadows flicker before you, on each side of the tattered bed you fell asleep on. Shadows, you decide, are a much vaguer description than what they actually are. The complicated version was that they seemed human, their faces, hands and feet human skin but the remainder of their bodies clothed in shadow. One is reaching out towards you and you slap his ‘hand’ but your own just passes through it. 
That particular shadow drops his hand back to his side. “No tits for me, I guess.”
“Be calm,” another informs you coolly. “We aren’t here to hurt you.”
“Yet,” the third adds.
“We can’t harm her anyways, what’s the point of threatening her?”
You lift a pillow and throw it through the abdomen of one of the shadow men. “Just leave me alone!”
One of them sighs. “We’re here to bring you to San. He says it's time for you to grovel. If you beg and plead him enough, he might feed you.”
You look at the deliverer of that message like he grew a second head. “I don’t think so.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Your funeral.”
“Oh wait, didn’t he say to deliver a message? If she says no?”
“That’s right.” One of them clears their throat. “If you don’t come down to eat, you won’t eat until you do.”
“Fine, I’ll starve.” You grab another pillow and wrap your arms around it. “I’ve dined on dreams and depression before. It’s not half bad once you get used to it.”
“This is about to get goooood,” one of them says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“I wonder if he’ll let us watch.”
“Might be able to convince him that it’s more humiliation for her if he does.”
The three shadow men leave your room, not bothering with the door as they have no corporeal form to speak of. But you can still hear their cruel laughter as they poof through the walls. 
What other form of torture was your life to endure?
In the end, it is not your hunger that pushes you to fold but the necessity of burying your father. 
You learn that the shadows' names are Hongjoong, Mingi and Yeosang. You don’t understand much about this castle but you learn that San’s fate and theirs are tied together. All of them blame San for their shadow state but depend on him, so it’s a twisted version of life, much like your own. You owe San your life but you also despise him.
“Well?” San broke through your deep thoughts.
The beast was sitting on a high back chair in front of the cold but beautiful fireplace. You had been staring listlessly at the carvings in the stone on the mantle, trying to find your words.
“Please, my lord. Will you allow me to bury my father?”
San is silent for a few minutes and it causes you to turn your gaze to your captor. He’s leaning forward, elbows bracing on his knees and his fingers curling around his sharp jaw to contemplate you. “You starve for days, refusing to bend the knee to me for anything I demand of you, yet this is what you’re willing to break for?”
You swallow nervously but raise your chin stubbornly. “He was the only thing that mattered in the world to me. He--” Your throat tightens as grief runs through you. “He was the only one in this world who cared for me, genuinely. So I must give him a proper bur--”
“It’s the middle of winter,” San cuts you off. “You won’t be able to break ground until spring.”
“I can--”
San throws a tin cup at you and it dings pitifully against the mantle next to your head. The mixture of a foul-smelling brew splashes you but you are unharmed by his temper. “By the time you manage to make a hole, it will be spring.”
“You would deny me even this?” You whisper hoarsely. “You truly are a beast.”
“Crawl and beg me for it.”
Your hands curl into fists, your nails digging into your palms. You have to curb any instinct to slap him across the face. You knew he could break you in a second. You flirt with the idea of letting him snap your neck but you have to honor your father’s dying wish. You can't follow him so quickly into the afterlife. 
So you descend to your knees slowly. 
San sits back in his chair, arms bracing against the armrests. A small, satisfied smile pulls one corner of his lip. “Much better.”
“Please…my lord…” You say with stilted words. “Please let me bury my father.”
San’s eyes become hooded as you move closer to him. “Lick my boot.”
You fought with your emotions and your pride; perseverance and grief won. 
You lean down, bringing your face close to San’s boot. You open your mouth hesitantly, especially as your peripherals pick up flickers of black. Mingi, Hongjoong and Yeosang are here to view your embarrassment, of course. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, humiliation poking at you. Still, your tongue finds San’s boot. You watch in horror as a strip of spit appears on the beast’s boot. 
“Smart girl,” San purrs above you.
Mingi clears his throat. “Was it just me, or could you feel--”
“Shut up, Mingi” Hongjoong hushes his companion. 
“I could feel it,” Yeosang agrees, despite Hongjoong’s death glare. 
You raise to sit on your haunches, unsure how much subservience San needs for you to get what you want. “So, you’ll allow me to bury my father?”
“No, are you stupid?” San rolls his eyes. “I told you, the ground is too hard.”
“You treacherous curr,” You snarl. You grab his legs, pushing yourself up, and dig your fingers into his thighs. “You said--”
“I didn’t say I’d help you. I didn’t even say I’d agree to this farce. I simply instructed you to crawl and beg me for permission.”
“I will--”
One, sharp talon rests on your jugular. The sharp tip pushes against your skin but doesn’t break it. “Choose your next words carefully, Prisoner.”
“I will go back to my room now.” You swallow your anger but it gets stuck in your throat. You loathe yourself more than you loathe the monster you live with right now. 
“Hongjoong, take her.”
A toothy grin appears on San’s face. You wish nothing more than to kick that smug look off his face but, for now, you will settle with curling up in your musty bed. 
“Come on,” Hongjoong makes a shooing motion as he herds you towards the stairs.
“You are a coward!” You shout over your shoulder but stomp towards the staircase.
“Excuse me?”San growls behind you. 
“Oh shit,” Mingi whispers.
“I know you heard me. You're a beast after all, most beasts have good hearing. Or are you both dumb and deaf?”
A roar sends warning signals to your brain and you barely register the blur of gold along the railing until San is standing in front of you, shoulders heaving as he breathes heavy. 
“What did you just say?”
“I said--”
“Must you test my ability to keep you alive every day?” San snarls in your face.
“I just finished licking your boot for your evil little shadow servants’ entertainment and you dare wonder why I push your limits?” You say as you poke his chest with your forefinger.
“We're not his servants!” Hongjoong protests.
“More like men-at-arms!” Yeosang insists.
“You will eat today at my table or so help me.” San reaches out with a taloned hand but ultimately clenches his fist instead of wrapping it around your neck. “Today,” he emphasizes.
“Or so help you what, San?”
“Or I will leave your father's body for the wolves.”
“You wouldn't dare.”
But as you search his face, you only find firm resolve. He would. San would toss your father’s body to be torn apart by the beasts that had killed him. 
“Your heart is as black as your hair,” You spit.
“Dinner. In an hour. Mingi will bring you something to wear.”
“Something to wear? Do you just so happen to keep women's clothing lying around in this accursed castle?” You demand.
With a whirl of his favorite fur coat, San breezes past you. “And if you refuse to wear what Mingi brings you, you will come naked.”
You are silent as you walk up the winding staircase that takes you up through the narrow tower. 
Hongjoong isn’t silent, however. “You sure do know how to wind him up,” Hongjoong comments.
“Well, it’s not like he’s providing a precedent for being nice,” You mumble.
Hongjoong hums in agreement but casts a look over his shoulder. “You know, he hardly ever speaks to us.”
You roll your eyes. “I wish he’d do the same with me.”
Hongjoong shook his head. “You don’t get it.”
“Then make me get it, Hongjoong,” You snap.
By now, you are in front of the door of your bedroom. Hongjoong stands with his arms folded over his chest. “It’s not my place.”
“Then stop hinting at something you can’t talk about.” 
You breeze by the shadow man and slam your door. Not that that would stop him from coming inside.
Mingi comes in minutes later, a dress swishing in his arms. You are sitting at the vanity with its cracked mirror. It’s flowy, if not a bit worn around the edges. It's as if time itself has eaten away at it. He offers you the dress, his face curious.
“Will you go?” 
“I have no choice,” You say bitterly. “My father deserves better than being ripped apart by wolves.”
Mingi shrugs and then tosses the dress to you. When he doesn’t leave, you send him a glare.
Mingi leers. “It’s not like I haven’t peeked already.”
Your eyes hurt from the amount of eye rolling you’ve been doing lately. “Fine, ogle all you want. It’s not like I have any other freedoms.”
You discard your current dress, dirty and torn when you fell from the cart tumbling down the cliff, and slip into the one Mingi brought. There’s two layers: the underneath is white and the overdress blue.
You rub the fabric between your hands. “Why would he have something like this?”
Mingi’s face blanks. “We should get down there.”
Mingi disappears somewhere between you going back down the stairs in your new dress and arriving at the door to the dining hall. You say hall because it is exactly that: the room echoes as you open the door and you take in the decaying decadence of the room. San is sitting at the head of the table and you walk in hesitantly.
“You will sit here,” San commands.
The sharp noise of a chair scraping the bare floor makes you wince. You pick up your skirts and begin to make your way to the chair that San has pulled out for you. Once you sit down, San’s taloned hand sweeps behind the chair and pushes you in so tightly; you’re practically trapped against the table.
The table is empty, and just as you’re about to inquire if you must pretend to eat as well, San claps, and food magically appears along the table. It is filled to the brim and your mouth drops open. Nothing made sense in this cursed castle.
“Don’t ask,” San growls. “Just eat.”
You had never known a life of elevation. Your father was an inventor and was only able to keep you fed and clothed because of his ability to make complex clocks and sell them. Later on in life, you also grew to adore the complexity of putting a clock together, with its charm of ringing and making a dramatic scene. So when the food from the table melts in your mouth with the taste of spices you were not familiar with, you practically moan.
San tears into a turkey leg he unceremoniously rips from the turkey itself, and watches you closely. “Interesting, watching a peasant eat her first sumptuous meal ever.”
You can feel the heat of embarrassment climb up your neck but still you eat. Now that you were consuming food, you did not wish to be banished from it. Because you knew that was what would happen next if you opened your mouth.
When silence continues to greet San, he continues to fill it. You are reminded of the fact that Hongjoong had said that San rarely spoke to the shadow men. You wondered why that was?
“I will make a pyre for your father. You can find something to put his ashes in. Then we can put this whole matter behind us,” San says gruffly.
You drop the fork you had been using and it clunks against your porcelain plate. “What?”
San continues to consume his turkey leg and then throws the bone towards the dark wall of the dining hall. “A pyre. For your father’s dead body. I told you, you cannot break ground in the winter.”
“So…before? You weren’t trying to…” The words die in your mouth. 
“Trying to do what?” San raises his eyebrows in question.
You shake your head. “Nothing. Nevermind. Thank you.”
“I do not want a body rotting in my stables,” San says gruffly.
“May I…begin to come out of my room now?” You ask hesitantly.
“Have you learned to behave yourself?” San shoots back at you.
You feel embarrassment twist in your gut once again, recalling only an hour ago that you were licking San’s boots. “Do you require me to debase myself for you any longer?”
“I could.”
Your head shoots up to meet San’s eyes. His face is blank, haughty, typical from what you’ve seen of the beast. “You must lead a boring life if you’ve got nothing better to do that torture me.”
San’s eyes crackle with anger. “We are all prisoners to this estate. Including you.”
Hongjoong burst into the hall, not bothering with a door, like always. “My Lord, I have the--”
“Nevermind, Hongjoong. Our prisoner will be going back to her room.”
Hongjoong halts in his tracks. “My Lord?”
San jerks his chin in the direction of the exit. “Put everything back. Yeosang can escort her to her room. We are done.”
“You’re done, you mean,” You grumble.
San launches over the table and grips your jaw severely. “Do you know what you just ate?”
You frown up at him, your jaw aching from how San is clenching it. “Food?”
San practically drags you out of your chair, towards a floor length mirror in the hall. “Look in the mirror.”
You almost didn’t recognize yourself. Your hands were covered in blood and more blood dribbles down your chin and neck. You look like a deranged woman in the mirror. But San, he looks normal. His horns and taloned hands are gone. The look on his face, however, is not normal. His grin is maniacal as he stares into your eyes through the mirror. 
“Did you enjoy wolf meat? Did it satisfy your need for blood?”
“You are a monster,” You whisper. 
“Takes one to know one,” San whispers back.
You break the grip he has on your jaw and run out of the room. 
Why was it your lot in life to live with this monster?
You barely make it to the outside before your stomach heaves up everything you have eaten. The bile burns your throat and angry tears threaten to escape your eyes. You refuse, however, dashing them away, and you wipe your face with your dress. 
“He’s got a face anyone could love and yet his heart is blacker than coal,” a voice comes from the darkness of the night.
“Who’s there?”
“A ghost.”
You scoff. “Monsters, ghosts, shadow men. What doesn’t this castle have?”
“Love.”
You purse your lips together. “You won’t reveal yourself?”
“All you need to know is that you’re going to fail.”
“Fail at living here? I don’t doubt it. If not for my father’s dying wish being to live, I’d throw myself out of my tower window right now.”
“Don’t!” The ghost hisses. “You don’t want to be trapped here in the afterlife as well.”
You open your mouth to pose another question but Yeosang finds you outside. 
“Come on, Belle, better get you back up to your room.”
“Worried for my safety?” You say blithely. 
Yeosang chuckles. “If San kills you, where’s the fun in that?”
You roll your eyes heavily. “Torture seems to be in all your souls, huh?”
“You could say that.”
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You stand in one of the many dead gardens around the castle. In the centre of what used to be a well-manicured lawn, a pyre is roughly built. The old, dry logs look more wild than you prefer. Then again, everything on this estate is twisted, isn't it?
The heat of the fire puffs against your face, reminding you that you haven’t said a word about your father.
“Maurice was a man whose brain was bigger than his thoughts. My father dreamed of creations that could only live out in his mind. Even given a thousand years, I don’t believe mechanics could catch up to his ideas. He loved my mother until the moment he died, never remarrying, despite bringing up a little girl. There was nothing my father wouldn’t do for me.”
You pause, needing to swallow down the pain that was bubbling back up in your throat. You push down the random thought bubble that your current situation was because of him. Your father simply did what he could for the sake of you. There was nothing wrong with that.
“This man--”
You throw your arm to dispel another hot gust blown towards you. The smoke from the wood should cover the smell of the burning corpse, but when a whiff of burning hair comes your way, you have to turn away completely.
“Did you bring something for him?”
San’s voice comes from behind you. You turn around to find his large form shielding you from the pyre. His face is devoid of any emotion. You should have known that words never swayed the beast. 
You raise a cerulean, cracked vase for your lord’s approval. “This is okay?”
San grunts and turns around. You can see how the light of the flame flickers across his face, as if any light is fruitless in its attempt to touch him. 
“You said your words. Leave the vase with me.”
Your eyebrows furrow in worry. “It should be me--”
“You’re too weak.” San cuts you off. “Go back inside.”
You feel the backlash of hurt and take a step back. “Fine,” You say with a chill to your tone. 
You stomp back the castle. You feel as if San’s words are stuck in your throat, choking you, filling you with distaste for yourself. Weak? You were surviving him, weren’t you?
You circle around the unattended-to paths until you find the fountain and the front of the castle. Once inside, you toss off your mink cloak, throwing it to the back of one of the upholstered coaches. You have no idea where your clothes are coming from but you hardly care for the fur San insists on the both of you donning, even if it does keep you warm. 
Now that you are free to roam the castle, no longer a prisoner to your tower room, you’ve come across many rooms and items that make your blood curl. It’s a game of chance of what you’ll find. Sometimes you find pity in your gut. This castle had clearly been the epitome of posh. It was sad to see it so ripped up.
Today, however, instead of turning east and exploring outwards from your tower, you choose to take a left at the top of the stairs. You know San disappears into this wing of the castle sometimes. Did he sleep down here?
Yeosang appears in front of you, his arms crossed across his chest. “You shouldn’t be here, Belle.”
You walk right through the shadow man, his form swallowing you up momentarily and then you come out the other side of him. “Stop me then.”
Mingi pulls from the shadows of the high ceiling-ed hallway. “You know we can’t physically, that’s rude.”
You raise a corner of your lip in derision. The way your hatred for the trio of shadow men nearly eclipses that of your spite towards San. “So sorry for your situation.”
“He can’t hurt us but he can hurt you.” Hongjoong’s form drips from the ceiling in one long line until it fully forms in front of you. 
“He’ll hurt me whether I go this way or not,” You scoff, unwilling to relive the few moments before the pyre for your father.
“You will know no anger like this one if he finds you down here, however,” Yeosang reaches out but his hand passes through your arm.
You shrug, the lingering coolness of his shadow giving you goosebumps. “He’s either a man of his word and keeps me alive or he doesn’t. I don’t care.”
The further into the wing you travel, the more torn up the entire place feels. You can imagine the temper tantrums San’s taloned hands and large shoulders is capable of wreaking havoc. He truly is a beast; no human would continue to make their surroundings this ripped up.
You follow the destruction until you come across a wide set of doors. It feels forbidden and you feel a jolt of excitement travel through you. You’ve had so little to be happy about these days. Perhaps this is exactly what you need.
“Belle.”
You turn around swiftly to see that the three shadowmen have not left you alone quite yet.
“Listen to me. I don’t care what you have to say. You’ve been nothing but little shits, no, worse, assistants in torture, to that beast you call lord. Either shut up or leave me be! I’m doing this.”
You hold your breath as you push the door open and take in what’s in front of you: a grand room with a balcony and large glass doors. A huge canopied bed sits on one side, while an entire sitting room is across it. You can spot the opulence of a lordling. San’s bad attitude definitely began from being spoiled and entitled. 
There’s a table near the glass doors and it seems to be calling for you. The closer you get, lifting your skirt to step over a broken mirror on the floor, you feel a pain in your chest. Absent-mindedly, you rub your chest, right above your heart, and approach the table.
There is a singular plant in the middle with a glass cover. Your pain only escalates but you have to see what the hell is being kept alive in San’s room. There is something small at the top of the clay pot. The pot itself is modeled after a rose in bloom. Odd. 
“What in the world?” You wonder out loud. 
You lean over the plant, reaching out a finger to dig into the soil and poke at the plant. 
“Uh oh,” Mingi whispers and that’s the only warning you get before San lets out a roar behind you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” San snarls and strides to where you are.
“What is that, San?” You demand.
You do not get an answer, for San wraps his taloned hand around your neck and slams you into the glass doors that lead to the balcony. The glass cracks and you feel your vision sparkle.
“You should not be here!”
You gasp as you attempt to inhale air but your windpipe is nearly cut off from how tight San’s hand is around your neck. It’s sad you can’t spit out your own poison but you find yourself getting giddy as your vision continues to narrow. Squeaky, croaking, creepy giggles escape your lips. 
“My lord!” Hongjoong appears at San’s elbow. “You need to let her go.”
“Where were you when she was scampering off into my rooms?” San demands.
His nails dig into the back of your neck, unrelentless, as Hongjoong answers. “We can hardly stop her! She can’t breathe!”
“What’s one more?” San whispers to himself.
Hongjoong’s hands wrap around San’s arm, despite not truly being able to hold on. “You said you liked this one! You know what’s at stake! My lord!”
Your vision has almost come down to a pinprick before San finally lets go of you and you fall to the floor. You cough and gasp as air finally enters your lungs. You bring your hands up to your neck. You wince, unsure if you can even speak. 
“Belle?” Mingi’s big eyes peer into your face. 
You held up a hand to indicate you’re alive. Yeosang lets out a sigh of relief. 
“You are allowed anywhere but here.” The beast stands in front of you, scowling down on your pitiful body. 
You take great joy in pushing your tongue out at him. Hongjoong snorts and then blanks his face. 
“You’ll need some cool water. Come on, Little Miss Curious. You’ve got your other seven lives, don’t you?”
You crawl around San and somehow manage to stand up but you need help from one of the posts on San's bed. 
The beast must be watching you, for he says next, “He’s in your room, if you were wondering.”
At least your father was put to rest now.
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You can’t speak for weeks. The damage San did to you was almost irreparable. The magic table somehow managed to make meals that you could swallow, but that was the only reprieve you are given.
Unable to even speak to entertain yourself, you explore more of the east wing. Eventually, you find the remains of a library. The first day you struggle to even open a heavy curtain so that you can see what is in the library. The second day you almost die because of all the dust that’s accumulated. By the third day, you manage to haul a chair that’s not broken towards the large windows and find some books. By day four, you’re practically in heaven.
Day five is when your happiness breaks, however.
“So this is where you’ve buried yourself.”
You squeak and fall out of the chair where you had been laying across instead of properly sitting upright. Your book sprawls in front of you and you snatch it up. You dust off its cover and put it on the table, only for it to fall again.
You groan and then wince at the pain from your throat.
“What are you?--”
You begin to back away as San moves towards you. His fur coat sweeps along the floor, making a trail through the thick dust.
You hold up your hands in defense of yourself. “I--”
Your voice sounds like a rake over rocks and you swallow hard. San stares at you, his face blank.
You shuffle, giving San a wide berth. This causes him to lift an eyebrow at you. “Why are you acting like a skittish horse?”
You pull a face and point at your throat. You knew he wasn’t truly dumb.
San scratches the back of his neck. “Ah. About that. You see…”
You maneuver to San’s back, not interested in hearing how you were stupid, and bolt out of the library. You wish you had snatched a book but you think that might further prompt San to get angry at you.
You’re not so lucky.
“Hey, where are you going?” San shouts after you.
Your soft slippers have no grip and you are only able to slide shuffle along the floor to flee the library and the beast behind you. You can hear him pursuing you. His boots are squeaking across the worn wood of the floor.
It hurts like hell when you let out a noise of fear and slam into a wall, unable to halt your skittering. You shoot a look down the hallway and see that San is bounding down the hallway after you still.
“Wait!”
You push forward. If you make it outside, perhaps he’ll stop pursuing you?
You take the steps of the spiral dual staircase two at a time. How you manage to not trip and break your own neck is beyond you, but still you have hope as the doors are getting closer and closer.
“What is wrong with you?!”
San’s hand slams down on your shoulder and your feet shoot out in front of you as the momentum of your run looks to carry your limbs forward. You slam down on your ass and let out a squeal. You wiggle, desperate to get out of his hold. You know you’ll never win if he truly doesn’t want to let you go, but it seems you don’t want to die after all.
Your struggling only ensures that San clamps down on you more. You let out a noise of pain as his talons prick your collarbone and sternum.
San lets go of you immediately. Your hands find purchase and you push yourself up and scramble towards the doors to the outside. You think if you can make it past the fountain, you might lose yourself in one of the gardens. San usually bores of you quickly, seeing as how easy he dismisses you from dinners.
You know you’re wrong when you eat dirt. San’s body covers yours. He must have jumped on you to plant you into the ground. It’s cold and hard and you regret all your life choices that has brought you here to this moment. Mostly because you’re sure San has a weapon on him, because what was that hard thing near his hip?
“Stupid human, what are you running from?” San shouts.
All you can manage is a garbled yell in response. Your throat is burning; this is the most noise you’ve made in the weeks following your incident in the west wing.
San lets out a noise of frustration from the back of his throat and turns you around. He grabs both your wrists and pins you beneath him.
“Will you listen to me?” He snarls.
You stubbornly turn your head to the side with a huff. Hongjoong, Mingi and Yeosang come into your vision. Great, of course those three were here to see your demise at San’s hands once again.
“Perhaps if you strangle her again, she might be more inclined to listen!” Yeosang observes.
“She hasn’t gone back to the west wing since then, he’s got a point,” Mingi agrees.
“Will you two shut up?” Hongjoong commands.
“You can go in the library,” San says and your head snaps back to his face. His eyes widen for a moment and then he’s the one to avoid your gaze. “It’s not like anyone else is using it.”
You move beneath him again, attempting to raise your arms up but are unable to push back far before his hands push your arms against the ground again.
“Stop moving!” San hisses at you.
“Let…me…go!” You croak.
San presses his lips together. “I will. I will. Just. Stop. Struggling.”
You become limp like a dead fish. If that’s all it took to get him off you then you’d comply. It was cold on the ground.
San stands up, wrapping his coat around him, as if it was his comfort. What a weird gesture. You are certain he’s never cold. Otherwise, why would he walk around with just that damn jacket and no shirt under?
“I’m almost kinda sad she can’t speak any more. I miss their arguments,” Yeosang says in a stage whisper.
San turns around on his heel and is back up the stairs before Mingi can agree with Yeosang. Hongjoong, however, is staring right at you. You throw your hands up in a gesture that wonders what he’s thinking.
“Your horse is getting antsy. You should consider going on a walk with him,” Hongjoong says, completely surprising you.
Your head swivels towards where the stables are as you sit up. You're happy to see that your wrists don’t provide a matching look with your neck.
Your head turns back towards San’s back, fading into the darkness of the castle. Would he let you ride Phillip?
Hongjoong follows your gaze and clears his throat. “My lord?"
“What do you want, Hongjoong?” San’s voice is heard from the lobby.
“If Belle wishes to go on a short walk with her horse--”
“Where?” San snarls.
“Well, my lord, if you accompany her--”
“Fine!” San snaps. “Later, after dinner.”
A faint, conspiratory smile pulls at the corners of Hongjoong’s lips. “There you have it.”
You have a feeling in your gut that Hongjoong is up to something but you have no idea. Perhaps he wishes for another near-death incident to send you towards complete servitude of his lord?
And so begins another ritual of your day. As you dine in silence with San, ever unsure as to what exactly you’re eating, you go for walks with Phillipe and the beast. Even after your throat heals, you remain in silence the entire time, other than for a soft word to the only tie to your old life.
So you almost fall off Phillipe when San says he had a horse like Phillipe before.
San purses his lip to the side, unimpressed by your inability to keep your cool around him any longer.
“Wha--what was their name?” You ask.
“Her name was Beauty. She was black as night--”
You snort at the absurdity.
“...what?”
You send him a long look. “Of course your horse was black.”
“She was of the most expensive stock!” San protests.
“Of course, nothing less for our lord,” You reply.
“She was loyal to a fault. You’re lucky to have him,” San continues.
“You have the others,” you point out.
“They are not loyal,” San disagrees. “They do what I say because that is their place.”
“Well.” you lean down to pat Phillipe’s neck. “Phillipe will flee if it saves his own neck. Sometimes we’re all just scared.”
“Are you?” San asks. He reaches and grabs Phillipe’s reins, halting your walk. He stares up at you, waiting for your answer.
“I don’t want to be,” You choose to respond. “Should I be?”
“I am a beast,” San replies, as if that’s an answer in itself.
You tilt your head. “You certainly act like it.”
“I…” San falters with his words. “I haven’t had a reason to act like anything else but.”
You both remain in silence until you finish your circuit and arrive back at the castle. You wiggle off of Phillipe and are about to lead him back into the stable when San speaks up again.
“If I…act less like a beast…will you begin to speak again at dinner?”
You arrange Phillipe’s forelock. “Why would I do that?”
“Because the silence is insufferable!” San protests.
“It’s fine for me,” You reply.
“You are--” San lets out a noise of frustration. The hair on the back of your neck is the only warning you get before San grabs your arm and pulls you away from Phillipe. “I cannot kill you!”
“You have a funny way of showing it!” You shout up at him. “Let go of me!”
“No!” San shakes his head. “You only seem to listen to me if my hands are on you!”
You raise your head stubbornly but also to show your neck. “Go on then! Give me another beautiful bruise along my neck!”
San’s eyes narrow down at you. “I don’t want to strangle you.”
“Well, I want to!” You yell.
“Fine.”
You squeak as San falls to his knees. He grabs your hands and brings them to his neck. “We’ll be even, then.”
“Like I could harm you,” you mumble under your breath. “Your neck is like a tree trunk.”
“Do it,” San commands you softly.
You think about when San made you lick his boots and your hands unconsciously tighten around his throat. A sweet, soft whimper comes from San and something twists in your gut. You like it, you realize, and that makes you let him go.
As your hands drop to your sides, a slow, arrogant, crooked grin appears on San’s face. “Liked it, didn't you?”
“I am not a monster like you,” You scoff.
“Not yet,” San says.
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You jolt upwards in your bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. Something had woken you out of a deep sleep. You hear a loud roar again and smash. What was going on?
You grab your fur coat, wrapping it around you tightly, and make your way down the tower’s winding staircase. You find San in front of the lobby’s main fireplace. His jacket is shrugged off, on the floor like a discarded skin. He’s brought one of the highback chairs close to the fire. You see his face wince as he pokes at--
“What happened?” You demand.
“More damn wolves,” San snarls. “They think they can just sweep into my territory even though I don’t mark every damn tree.”
Your bare feet move closer towards the monster that was your captor. “Are you…hurt?”
“Of course I’m hurt!” San shouts. 
He pokes at five deep gouges on his arm and then hisses at the pain it produces. 
You move to stand in front of him and see that the damage is even worse. There are bite marks on his shoulder too. “I can help--”
San’s head snaps upwards to meet your gaze with a fiery one of his own. “Why would you want to do that?”
You wave one of your hands to indicate somewhere around here were his men-at-arms. “They can fetch you the supplies but they can’t touch you, San.”
San begins to grumble under his breath. “You’ll only make it worse.”
“Then consider it… repayment,” You attempt again.
“Repayment for what?” San narrows his eyes at you.
“For…my father,” You swallow down the emotion that’s constricting your throat.
“Ah.” San’s face is unreadable. “Fine.”
“My lord,” Yeosang appears from the flickering shadows. 
“Get something to boil water in,” You recommend. “And some rags. We can boil them too. Is there some alcohol?”
Whatever you ask for, Mingi delivers swiftly. The three shadowmen watch you in silence as you prepare everything you need. You take a swig of the clear alcohol first, however, and then offer it to San. The fire only highlights San’s jawline as he tips his head back and drinks down the beverage. Some rivulets spill down both sides of his mouth and trail down his neck. 
“Leave some alcohol so we can clean your wounds,” You murmur.
San lets out a lusty ‘ah!’ as he finishes drinking. “Since when are you a nurse?”
You shake your head. “I’m not. Father was just a little clumsy with his tools. I used to patch him up. Nothing worse than a finger caught in between two cogs.”
Hongjoong squeezes and dries some of the boiled rags and offers them to you when you reach out. You grab the rag with one hand and then drench San’s arm with the alcohol.
San roars in pain and snatches his arm back. “That hurt!"
“Did you expect it to feel good?” You hiss back to him.
The alcohol that spilled into the rag is used to dab at the gouges on his arm. He flinches at the pain but he keeps his mouth shut. His eyes are on you, however, you can feel them burn into you.
“Why do you hunt the wolves?” You wonder.
“Because I am a monster,” San says with arrogance. 
You tsk at him. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you--are you enjoying inflicting pain on me?” He yells.
“No, I do not,” You reply in a clipped tone. “You better stay still. I have yet to get that bite on your shoulder.”
Methodically, you wrap another clean rag that’s passed to you by Mingi this time around San’s wounded arm. The shadowmen are abnormally quiet for some reason. 
“They used to scare me. As a child,” San says in such a low tone, you almost don’t catch it.
Shock runs through you but you try not to show it. Odd to think of the monster before you as a small child. Instead, you lean over San and pat at the bite marks on his shoulder. 
“So you hunt them down?” You ask.
“I show them that they do not scare me any longer,” San allows. 
Hongjoong gives you the final rag that you wrap around San’s torso. You grab his opposite shoulder to make him lean forward so you can do your work. San is being awfully docile. You’re not sure exactly what’s going on. 
“There. You’re all set.” You clap your hands in finality. 
San’s silent and now you know why he’s being so docile. The entire time you weren’t working on wrapping his shoulder up, slanting the rag from shoulder to rib cage, he was staring down your dressing gown. 
“Get a good eyeful like Mingi, hmm?” You say, nonplussed.
San’s head jerks towards Mingi, who holds his hands up in defense. “Have you been staring at her naked form Song?” he growls.
“Of course not, my lord!” Mingi protests. “I wouldn’t even think of such a thing.”
You snort at the lie. San gets up out of the chair, a growl vibrating from his lips. “If I find out you’re lying to me…”
“Mingi’s stupid, but he’s not an idiot!” Yeosang protests. “We’ll leave you two to your evening, let's go.”
The three shadowmen melt into the shadows and then it’s just you and the beast. 
“I suppose a thank you is in order,” San says gruffly. 
You shake your head. “An eye for an eye. We are balanced now, you and I.”
San tilts his head. His skin appears even more bronze in the firelight. “I would not describe us as balanced, Belle.”
Your whole body rocks backwards. You were sure that was the first time San had referred to you by your first name. Not human. Not prisoner. But Belle.
You press your lips into a thin line. “No, I don’t suppose so.”
San offers you a clawed hand and you stare at it like it’s foreign. “Come with me.”
“I just patched you up! Surely you don’t intend to throw me back into my tower! Let me warm up by the fire for a bit at least!” You protest.
San shakes his head and his hair falls in his eyes. “No, we’re going to the west wing.”
You begin to back away slowly. “San, I haven’t gone back there. I swear.”
“Just take my damn hand!” San loses his temper again.
Trembling, you place your hand in his and then he’s suddenly dragging you into the darkness. 
Your heart is in your throat. You can hardly see anything, and so you trip and almost fall, if not for the firm grip San has of your hand. He doesn’t say a word, although he does growl a few times when he has to tug you forward. 
At last, you realize he’s taken you to his room. San doesn’t let go of your hand, even as he drags you over to the small table where the rose pottery is. You peer around San’s body, the moon phases barely visible along his spine, and you see the black thing that was in the middle of the table has grown. 
You try to move forward to examine it further but San jerks you back. “Wait.”
You wait, looking at him expectantly. His face is hard, not softening his sharp features one bit. 
“There is a curse on this estate. It stems from me. I once messed with the wrong woman. This plant is my only salvation.”
“What does it mean?” You ask.
“If the plant grows--if I right my wrong--I will be broken of this curse. The land will be restored. Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong will be human again.”
You remember the image of San in the mirror. Without his horns and taloned hands, he looked like… You gasp and bring one of your hands to your mouth. “Then you’ll no longer be a monster?”
San shakes his head. “You don’t understand.”
“Didn’t you bring me here to try to explain?” You’re confused.
“Belle…”
“Will I be free if the curse is broken?” You wonder next.
“Free?” San turns his head towards you, his eyes unreadable. “No. Your life is tied to mine.”
“Why?!” You shout at him. “I have done absolutely nothing to you! Nothing to deserve this! I freeze every night in that tower. I have to endure your mental and physical torture. So what if you feed me and take me for walks. Am I a pet to you?”
“I--” San’s jaw snaps shut and a muscle there tenses. “You will understand eventually.”
“Well, if you don’t explain it to me, how am I to get it?” You yell. “Never mind.” 
You tear your hand out of San’s grasp and stomp out of his room. That was the last time you showed an ounce of compassion to that beast!
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The next day you sequester yourself in the library. You do whatever you can to escape your current reality. You read about a woman trapped in a tower but that’s too close to your current situation. You try for another but it’s two star crossed lovers. You close the book loudly and sigh. What was with your state of mind today?
Your stomach growls but you ignore it. You refuse to do anything that would make San’s life better. You won’t give him the satisfaction of eating with him or going on a walk with Phillipe or--
The library doors burst open, bouncing off the walls with the force they are pushed open with. “What are you doing in here?” San demands, walking straight to your spot in the chair.
“You said I could be in here!” You protest.
San runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Yes I did. But what about dinner?”
“I’m not going anymore.”
San’s mouth opens and closes and then he’s scowling at you. “Yes, you are.”
You don’t know what you were thinking, but the next thing you know, you throw your book at San. It lands with a thwap on his chest and falls to the floor. “Stay away from me.”
“Belle,” San held his hands out as if to say he was harmless; as if he didn’t have claws that you’ve seen tore out wolf’s stomachs. 
“Don’t you ‘Belle’ me!” You shout at him. You try to put the chair between you and him. “I’m not going to dinner. And you can’t make me.”
“I can throw you over my shoulder and slap your ass if I so choose.” San folded his arms across his chest. “So either you get to that dining hall or I will make you.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Fine. I gave you a choice.”
San lunges for you and you squeal. San’s body is cutting off your escape route to the exit so you run further into the library instead. 
San’s belly chuckle chases after you. “You wanna play this game again?”
“It’s not a game!” You shout over your shoulder. 
You begin to eye the ladders to the second level. Perhaps you might be able to clamber up before San catches up with you. You quickly grab a rung and start to haul yourself up. 
Unfortunately for you, San’s advantage in height means he’s able to grab your waist and pull you down easily. 
“Got you!” San announces triumphantly. 
Just one of his arms wrapped around you is all he needs to do to keep your arms to yourself. Except that allows you to throw everything into your leg movement. You try to drive your heel into a very sensitive area but you only manage to dig into his inner thigh. San’s singular grunt is the only acknowledgment you’re even doing anything. 
“Now, let’s get back to the dining hall,” San says.
“Let go of me!” You insist. “I will bite you.”
San chuckles under his breath. “Don’t promise me a good time.”
Despite his clear warning, the only thing in your mind is to escape San’s confines. So you lower your head as far as you can and you bite into his arm. San hisses and then he begins to cackle. “Little one, you do not know what you’re getting into.”
“I will bite a chunk out of your arm if you don’t let me go--San!”
You’re pinned against a bookshelf but it’s not like the time San slammed you against the glass door. This time one hand is splayed along your chest to keep you there and his leg is in between yours. 
Your hands grab his bicep and dig your nails into the skin there, close to where your bite marks are. When San moans, you freeze in place.
That cruel, crooked smile that blooms on his face makes your face drain of blood. 
“I’m a beast, am I not? What better to get my blood pumping than with a chase and a bite.” You swallow hard but your mouth is devoid of any moisture when San leans in close so that one of his teeth skims your ear. “What would your little talons feel as they dug into my back, Little One?”
“What are you doing?” You whisper. 
“You know the best way to help with boiling over tempers?” San purrs.
“No.”
San leans back so that he can get a good look at your face. His thigh flexes and he pushes you higher up his leg. “No?”
“You let go of me right now,” You command.
You’re scared shitless of what is happening right now. When had the thin edge of anger and spite turned over into this…?
“Are you scared?” San tilts his head. “Your heartbeat is going wild in your chest.”
“I’m not scared!” You lie through your teeth. “I want you to leave me alone!”
San shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can, you great, hulking beast! Let me go right now!” You struggle and then let out a whimper as your lower half grinds against San’s leg.
San’s eyes are dark with lust. “Will you use me for your pleasure? Is that how this will work? Get yourself worked up and then I can slide between your plump thighs--”
“Stop that! No! I’m not--!” You only manage to rub yourself further against San’s thigh. You clamp your teeth down on your treacherous lips. “Remove your thigh from between my legs. You are only proving how much of a beast you truly are.”
“Then you won’t be surprised when I don’t change my tune, will you?” San murmurs before his head dips and he tilts his head.
His nails only slightly prick into your skin, almost as if he’s a cat kneading his claws into you. “Let me taste your poisonous lips.”
“San.”
“Yes?” San’s lips hover over yours. You can feel his moist breath on your lips. If you even push out your lips too far, you’ll meet his.
“I hate you.”
“I hate you too,” San agrees and then presses his lips to yours.
He’s very careful with his fangs but that doesn’t stop him from playing his tongue against yours. He’s almost hungry for the kiss but you don’t have any thoughts to spare towards the why of this. It’s all you can do to keep up with his pace, unsure why exactly this feels so perfect. 
San breaks the kiss, his tongue remaining out of his mouth, and a string of spit breaks between the two of you. “I will have you, here and now.”
“You will not!” You squeal. 
San grabs one of your hands and presses it against his pelvis. He is throbbing under his thin pants, twitching in your hand. You cast aside the feeling of empowerment it gives you immediately. “I will.”
“We can’t--you are--the others--” 
Your mind races but you can’t settle on a good and true reason as to why this can’t happen. Who was going to walk in on you? The shadowmen? They wouldn’t dare, with the way San threw a fit when he heard about Mingi spying on you. By the feeling of your lower half, you knew that you weren’t opposed to it. But this beast was--you hated him! Didn’t you?
“Throw your anger at me, Little One. I can take it.”
San tilts his head in the opposite direction and tempts you with another kiss. This time he carefully nips your lower lip and when you gasp as he fully grips it between his teeth and pulls slightly. 
Your hand, still pressing against San’s erection, pushes harder against his length and he groans for you. 
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” San instructs you. 
Against your better judgement, you do exactly that. Your skirts push over your hips and it’s simply your hose and garter and nothing else in view. 
San’s fevered brow presses against yours as he takes it in. “You’re so tiny.”
“I…” You gulp and say more to yourself than anyone. “Babies come from there. Surely you’ll fit.”
San lets out a laugh that reverberates through his chest. “I have a feeling it will be a perfect fit for you.”
Before you can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, his taloned hands deftly undo the buttons to his pants and he pushes them down to his knees. He’s straining against his stomach. You can practically see the veins pulsing with need along his shaft. His cockhead is angry and red. He’s nothing like the arrogant Jongho that fucked you in your village. 
San takes a step back, if only to press both of his hands to your lower back. Your cunt lips press against his cock shaft with a very embarrassing, wet noise. It only entices San to look down at you with hooded eyes. “How delicious will the press of my cock be to your cunt?”
“Only one time, San,” You say as you lick your lips. 
San laughs deep in his throat. It almost sounds pained to your ears. “I have a feeling I won’t be able to quit you after one time.”
You flex your thighs so that you can hover over San’s mushroom cockhead. It splits you easily enough but it’s a stretch. He’s just so thick. His thumbs brush over the dimples in your back, soothing you. 
“Take your time.”
How you manage to endure sinking down on him, inch by inch, blows your mind. But you do it and soon your body adjusts to his thickness. “I--San--be careful.”
“Like fine china,” San murmurs under his breath. 
With one hand braced against the bookcase, he crooks his hips and you whimper. He takes his time with you but it quickly goes from worry to frustration. Your cunt is aching and he seems to be torturing and tempting you, as if he wants you to commit to memory how he feels inside of you; every damn inch of him. 
“You!” You gasp and start to roll your hips.
“Too much?” San smirks at you.
“Not. Enough.”
San's hand moves to squeeze your waist. “You said to be careful.”
“I need more,” You growl.
“I don't think you can handle more.”
You both watch as San pulls out, your inner lips gliding along as if beckoning his cock to not leave. 
“Faster,” You urge, wrapping your legs more firmly to get leverage. “Harder.”
“But you're such a fragile human.”
San eyes roll wildly. The whites of his eyes flash and you hold your breath as his hand finds your neck again. You squeeze your eyes shut and for a moment, you think, this will be the end of you. San's hand squeezes but you are still able to breathe. Each whistle of air into your lungs was sweet and lovely. But your end never came.
San's hips slam into you and you let out a choked cry. You're stuffed, truly fully stuffed and it feels like heaven.
Your air starts to come out in hammered puffs because of the way San is thrusting into you. Your brain goes blank and all you can focus on is the pending pleasure pouring through you. 
San lets go of your throat, if only to lean in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. His fangs play along the thin skin of your neck and you gasp. The lack of air seems to have heightened your senses. Everything feels more. 
“You're doing so well,” San praises you. “I told you; we’re a perfect fit.”
“San,” You moan his name. It's the only word you can form.
“Are you ready, Little One? You had better be coming because after I unload in you, I don't think I'll be able to stop,” San admits in a husky tone.
“In me?” You say in alarm.
“You needn't worry,” San hums. “I'm infertile for a human.”
You whimper as your climax builds. You wrap your arms behind San’s neck. “I need to come.”
San’s hands curl around your ass and legs from behind you and he untangles your legs around his waist. Your back scrapes the spines of some books as your body weight is forced back so that San can focus on pounding into you.
Your cries come out more urgently. Your climax is coming. You begin to chant San’s name, each single syllable coming out more whiny than the last. And when it finally bursts over you, you hold in your breath. 
Your walls fluttering around San is all he needs to ram into you with one swift thrust and twitch inside of you. You know you're in trouble when you can feel him dripping out of you--quickly and in copious amounts. He's dripping sweat onto your dress and he blinks hard like there's a threat of his soaked hair going to blind him. His lips are pink and plush. His eyes are dark but clear. You’ve never beheld him so…unguarded but also so natural. It was as if all his walls were down and after sex, he was in his true form.
“You're not leaving my bed for anything,” San pants.
“We're not in your bed right now, San,” You deadpan.
“Not yet.”
San pulls you off of him and sets you down. You can feel your face heat up as his cum dribbles down your thighs. Thank god for your dress settling down otherwise you were sure the sight of it would send you to an early grave. 
Once the beast does up his pants, he sweeps you up into his arms. “Your tiny legs can’t keep up with mine,” He growls and then he’s leaving the library and moving down the hallway toward the west wing.
Was he truly bringing you to his bed? This beast, that was so hot and cold with you, so careful to feed you crumbs of his life, was taking you to his inner sanctum…again? What was it that he was so sure you needed to know but also wanted to keep you away from?
Your inner thoughts come to a halt as San closes the doors to his room and he carefully dispatches you to his bed. It’s a bundle of worn blankets but it’s almost cozy in its chaos.
One of his claws catches on your dress to draw it upwards and he groans at the sight of his cum running down your legs. Before you can stop him, his tongue is cleaning you up. Your thighs are now wet with his saliva and he dives head first into your cunt.
“S-san!” You protest. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm and besides, his fangs!!
It was a mistake to call his name while he was between your thighs. His dark eyes roll up to meet yours but his tongue doesn’t stop. No, the beast continues to push in and out of your hole, his own cum seeping onto his pink tongue. 
You whimper at the sight and swallow to no avail. “You are disgusting.”
San only stops tongue-fucking you to say, “You just fucked a beast, what else would you expect?”
Your hands dive into his hair when his tongue finds your clit. He flattens his tongue and worries back and forth on your clit. Your legs close around his head but he patiently pushes your legs back to be spread on the bed. Your hands migrate to his horns. You wrap each hand around the twisted, obsidian horns and push him further into you. 
“San, San,” You whimper his name, bucking your hips up into his face. 
“Stay still, you’re going to--” San begins to growl but is interrupted by a sharp gasp from yourself. 
One of his fangs catches on your sensitive flesh. You watch as San’s pupils blow, seeing the blood on your cunt. And he dives right back in to lick it up. Soon, you forget the pain as he begins to suck on your clit eagerly. You whine because you can’t rock up against his face but your climax comes again, bursting through you like fireworks. 
You pant as the beast climbs up your body. His face is covered in your cum, and it’s tinged rose with your blood, and still he kisses you. His tongue tangles with yours, your cum rubbing onto your face. You grab the back of his head and return the kiss. You feel utterly debauched but you can’t help the fire that’s burning in your stomach. It’s not even quenched after two orgasms, in fact, it’s inflamed for more.
“I--I haven’t eaten all day, we can’t--”
San presses his hand to your chest and pins you back to the bed. “I will get you something. You stay here.”
“Nonsense! Two arms can carry back more--” You push upwards but San only pushes you back again. 
“I told you that you wouldn’t leave my bed for anything and I meant it,” San growls. 
“You…you trust me alone here?” You can’t help but ask.
San’s eyes flit around, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “It’s fine.”
You send him a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You almost killed me for the same thing months ago!”
“It’s--”
“No!” You shout at him. “You’re not allowed to do this anymore. You can’t keep letting me in and then telling me that there’s a closet that I can’t open. I won’t do this anymore, San.”
San settles onto the side of the bed, his back to you. He turns his head to speak over his shoulder. “I can’t tell you. It’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t. It’ll ruin everything. Be angry all you want. I can’t risk it all.”
And for once, you feel like he’s genuinely telling you the truth. As vague as it was. 
“Is it the curse?” You ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. Which draws your attention to his tattoo that runs the length of his spine. You trace the trail down his skin and his back muscles tense. “What does it all mean? And what does it have to do with me? And what about the ghost?”
San spins around and grabs your hand. “What ghost?”
You smile briefly and then shake your head. “I was delusional. It’s nothing.”
“Stay in my bed. I will bring you food. Then I will devour you some more.” You swear you see an excited smile on his face but San is gone from the room before you can confirm.
True to his word, you remain in San’s room--and his bed--for three whole days. He can only endure you to leave to relieve yourself and even then, he barely lets you take one step into the room before he’s carrying you back to his bed and slotting his body between your legs. 
You’ve lost the sense of where you end and San begins. All you know is the feeling of his hands on your body. You only know the scent of his musk as your face is buried into his muscular shoulder. The taste of his cum is the only flavor you know, no matter how much water you drink. He is the only thing you know, utterly and truly. 
Then, on the fourth day, something miraculous happens.
“San, your plant.” You point a finger to the rose pottery on the singular table by the balcony.
San launches himself out of bed and bounds towards the table. His eyes widen in extreme disbelief and he falls to his knees. 
“You’ve done it,” he whispers.
You crawl towards the foot of the bed, drawing a blanket over your naked body. There is a full rose that has bloomed from the pot. You aren’t certain but you are pretty sure roses don’t grow that quickly. And besides… why was this one black?
“I’ve done nothing but fuck you for the past three days, San. What are you talking about?”
“Get dressed,” San says excitedly. “We have to gather the others.”
“With what clothes, San, you keep ripping them off me,” You grumble. 
San grins and then he’s out the door, hollering for his shadow men.
“What’s got him so… what in the nine hells?” Mingi’s eyebrows are furrowed in utter confusion. “When did that happen?”
San is back with Yeosang on his heels. San has what looks like a dress in one hand, which he throws to the bed. “Mingi, Yeosang, go find Hongjoong and go to the ballroom. Belle, get dressed. Quickly!”
The shadow men are gone upon command and you quickly pull the dress over your head. “Why the ballroom?”
“Because that’s where it all began.” San’s face is pinched with past pain. 
The dress you wear is wonderous canary yellow, one that seems orange and red depending on where the sun hits. “San, what’s going on?”
San pulls you in for a tight hug and you freeze in his embrace, stiff and unsure. “All your questions will be answered. It’s finally happening.”
The five of you stand apace in the ballroom. San encapsulates your head in between his huge hands. Your whole world narrows down to just him, once again. 
“You have accepted me completely. For that, I can only repay you by committing my life to you.”
“San, what--”
“Once upon a time there was a beast who was cruel and handsome. He loved the power he held as a beast,” San murmurs to you.
“You… you were born like this?”
“The beast lived as he pleased. He wooed anyone and anything. He played with their hearts and bodies. And when he was bored of them, he discarded them.”
You knew San was cruel, you had been subject to such cruelty. But the way he was telling this story was making you feel uneasy.
“One day, his lover whom he had passed amongst his subordinates, revealed she was a witch. With her heartbroken, and her body used, she cursed the four men. The men at arms would become shadowmen, never able to touch another human ever again. And the beast…”
San’s eyes are dark and unreadable. They are like pools of water that never end, the deep dark water that never sees the light of day. 
“The beast had a very special curse placed on him. Every generation his soulmate would be born. And every time they were destined to cross paths. But if he was unable to woo her, to truly love her, to let her take his heart in return, then the curse would remain. The beast would never leave his estate. The men at arms would never know another’s touch. And some poor soul would be born over and over again, at the mercy of a beast’s black heart.”
“Are you saying I’m your soulmate? How did you know?”
A slow, crooked smile grows on San’s face. He appears… crazed, like he had been in the library. “Your father brought you to me.”
You deny this immediately. “My father would never!”
“Why do you think the sudden trip to sell his clocks came to be, Belle?”
“My father is scatter brained, San, he does this all the time. All of sudden he’ll decide to sell all his clocks. There’s hardly a pattern.”
“I’ll tell you why your father brought you to me.” San’s grin is stretched from ear to ear. He is maniacal. “You killed your lover. Your father saw your true form. He knew of the myth of the cursed beast. He was bringing you to me when the wolves attacked. The attack triggered your other form. You killed almost everyone and everything. I couldn't save your father. But he made me promise to keep you confined to the estate so you wouldn’t hurt anyone else. And it worked. For a time.”
There’s a small buzzing in your ear and you feel like you’re about to faint.
“See, I’m impatient to see my soulmate’s true form become her permanent form. So I provoked you. Treated you like horse manure on my boot. Ordered the others to do the same. The mirror  that first dinner showed you the truth: that you were a true monster. It’s why I cancelled the dance to woo you. You are not like the other ones. My true soulmate is connected with me. I am a beast. And so are you. ”
You shook your head. “You lie.”
“I…I thought you might risk the curse, might find a way to fuck it up. I let my anger get to me that night I almost killed you. I regretted that. Immensely. No other soulmate transformed before coming to me. You were the first. So, instead of attempting to provoke the beast side of you, I decided to learn who you were. The reading took me by surprise but you seemed to find solace in that room. But you triggered the beast side of me once again. Running away like a little white rabbit that is great prey? Writhing that sweet body of yours against mine as I pinned you to the ground?” San licks his lips lecherously. “You were tempting me.”
“But you still had to fall in love with me, the beast. The walks with your horse were good days for me. You reminded me of what life was like before this curse. The difference was that I wanted that life… with you. I provoked your other form again when I prompted you to choke me. That night you fixed me up? That wasn’t the wolves, my darling, that was you. You in your glorious form, rising from her slumber. We fought and it was grand. You won though. I may have been a little frustrated that you took me. But that’s when I decided that perhaps if I told you just the little of the curse that I could, that perhaps… perhaps everything might swing my way.”
San runs a taloned hand through his hair and completes the motion by curling them around his horn as well. He laughs to himself. “I should have known our bodies becoming one was the final key. What better truth exists than when two bodies join? There are no secrets then.”
“I see I was wrong.”
The ghost from before appears before you. You’ve already guessed it, she was the witch, trapped in her own curse on these lands. 
“Your heart is blacker than San’s. Bravo.”
You feel wetness on your face and you realize that you’re crying. It was like your body knew the truth already. Everything San said fit in place, like clockwork inside the creations your father made. The father you killed. You killed Jongho too. You were a monster. No wonder San was your soulmate. 
The rose that Hongjoong holds bursts and a wave of black passes through everyone and everything in the room. The ghost disappears. The air feels different.
“Yeosang!” Mingi shouts.
The shadowman is losing his shadow. Yeosang lifts his arms and watches in wonder as his clothes appear back on his body. The same happens to Mingi and Hongjoong. With a trembling hand, Mingi reaches out and puts his hand on Hongjoong’s chest. 
“We’re free,” Hongjoong whispers in disbelief. 
San pulls off his fur jacket and looks over his shoulder. The moon phase tattoo is fading as well. He lets the jacket drop to the floor and looks at you expectantly. 
“Wha--?” 
You suddenly scream in pain. Your skull feels like it’s going to split in two. Just as you bring your hands to your face, you gaze in horror as your nails lengthen and sharpen. You reach upwards to your head, already aware of what you’ll find. You choke on a sob when your fingers find horns sprouting from your head.
“There she is, my soulmate,” San announces. 
“I’m a monster,” You repeat to yourself.
Suddenly, everything clicks into place and you feel a new self settle over your shoulders.
“We can never repay you, Belle,” Mingi admits wistfully. “Maybe now--”
Your claw rips Mingi’s face off his skull. It flaps uselessly in your hand and you let it drop to the floor. 
“You’ll be the first to die, you horrible peeping tom,” You promise. 
You punch your hand through Mingi’s stomach, grab his spine and rip it out from his body. Mingi is dead instantly. It’s a pity, he should have suffered longer.
So you don’t make the same mistake with Hongjoong. You cut off Hongjoong’s balls and feed it to him. You make him chew each one and swallow them as he bleeds out. He cries soundlessly to himself and it makes your heart soar.
Yeosang appears mentally broken. Perhaps too much change at once? Either way, you decide to break his limbs inch by inch until he is simply a soggy sack of pebbles. You wish he screamed; you had a feeling you were missing out on the screams. 
And through it all, San stands there, and lets you have your fun. 
You point your finger at your soulmate. “You get in our bed right now. I will fuck you with the blood of my enemies on my skin.”
“What is my punishment, my love?” San appears eager and insane and nothing has appealed to you more in your entire life. 
You wrap your hands around San’s neck, still thick as a tree, but now with your talons and your monstrous strength, he’s a tree that could snap for you. You feel power throughout your body and you know what you’re capable of doing. 
“Your punishment is to know that I’ll be a better monster than you ever could be. You’ll always play second fiddle to me, San. Now and forever.”
“Yes, Love.”
San follows you as you stalk back towards the bedroom you proclaimed as yours like an eager puppy. What you saw in the mirror was the utter truth: you were the beast and San was the beauty.
How ironic.
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daemour · 2 months ago
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daemour · 3 months ago
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⋇⊶⊰THE CELEBRATION COLUMN ⊱⊷⋇
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Today, K-Vanity Magazine would like to reserve this section to highlight one of our members. Before we continue any further, we’d like to wish the ever so talented and amazing Dae @daemour a very Happy Birthday!! May your day be filled with joy and positivity.
- KVM
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
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daemour · 3 months ago
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HELOO??????
I CANT EVEN COUNT HOW MANY TIMES MY JAW DROPPED HELLO????F?F?GG?G?JKGDSHOAFD
you kNOCKED it out of the fucking PARK jesus christ oml---
Yunho was so fucking captivating but MAN holy shit that was just wow
im trying so hard to hold back any spoilers but oml this 13k went by so fucking fast
The Other Zone
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🌀Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader (feat. other idols) 🌀WC: 13,431 🌀AU: multiverse, ?? to lovers, with some OZ, stranger things, and beauty and the beast dynamics 🌀Genre: phycological thriller, dark romance 🌀Summary: With barely an identity, and a lot of missing time, you signed your life away for answers. Just to untangle a web of mystery between this world, and another, second guessing who is the villain, and who is the hero, wondering if you could possibly make it right somehow. 🌀Warnings: cnc/dubcon, graphic depictions of mutilation and murder, implications of experiments, drugs, one stab, bloody scenes. Smut warnings: huge cock Yunho, mxm and mentions of poly, mutual masturabation. Fingering, choking, slight clit slapping, dacryphilia, slight blood play, squirting, creampie, stomach bulge, strength play, angryish sex 🌀AN: for the YOTV: Year of the Snake collab hosted by @sanjoongie. ngl not as dark as i wanted but my favorite horror genre is the one where its just one big puzzle to figure out filled with all sorts of twists and turns. It's a genre I want to be good in, thus why I wanted to go this route. 🌀Big thanks to Sangjoongie for inviting me to this collab and betaing for half of it. And a big thanks to @bunnliix for beta! honorary tags of @adelusionforyourthoughts and @yourfatherlucifer and for the other amazing writers in the YOTV collab. You've all been a big help with this <3 Please read at your own risk. Minors/ageless blogs will be immediately blocked if you interact!
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Signing away your life was perhaps the easiest decision you had ever made. No matter how many times you looked over the contract, it was pretty cut and dry and simple. An experimental test that had the potential to fix your biggest problems yet: Poverty, and the unexplained missing time in your memory.
For as long as you could remember, you had been alone. No family to support you, found alone in the slums and then put into foster care. There would be hours, days, sometimes weeks of missing time from your memory, which of course caused problems with the system as it made it hard to place you in a home.
Jobs were just as bad. You couldn’t exactly keep one if you weren’t conscious long enough to actually do it. How you managed here, in this pure white and far too bright laboratory, was beyond you, but you were being fed and had a bed to sleep on so you didn’t complain too much.
Like every other time you expected them to kick you out or look at you like you were some monster, but instead they handed you this massive contract and let you read it over.
In exchange for more money than you thought you could ever spend, you signed away your rights and bodily anatomy to the lab so that they could potentially find out the explanation for your missing time. What really sold you, is when you were told that you weren’t the first one they had in custody with an eerily similar condition.
Escorted back to the padded room, you briefly wondered what was going to happen next. They didn’t say what the experimentation was outside of drugs and tests to see how they affect you, so the worst was probably side effects? Whatever it was, you thought it would be better than living on the streets, doing regrettable things just to get by.
Here you at least had three meals a day, a bed, showers, and clean clothes. They cut your hair pretty short, but you didn’t mind, it was starting to get matted anyways. Your hands and feet felt so soft. It felt nice, and you never thought you would get to such a point in your life.
You often wondered why even try after all, but there was something nagging in your brain that you had to survive; that you had to live. It was the only reason you never thought of taking your own life.
Was this why? Did some part of you just know things would turn around?
Later you were moved to a lower level of the lab, behind more security to a whole wing with slightly bigger bedrooms, still white and padded, but you weren’t alone in the wing either. There was staff, and then patients.
People like you.
Every single other patient was a male, something like recognition flashing in their eyes as you passed. Some bowed their heads, others smiled, and you mirrored their greetings as if it was the most natural thing to do. Not that you knew why, confusion settling on their features, and yours, after the act. It only lasted a moment, awe dashing away the thoughts as you were brought to a decent rec room with board games and other activities in the room. There was a TV and games but they seemed to be offline.
Right away, one of the conditions was being secluded from the outside world as a way to ensure nothing leaked out before its time. It was an experiment, so that was understandable. Even without wifi or cable, the selection of recreational games and hobbies that were nicely spaced apart had you giddy.
“Make yourself comfortable and introduce yourself to a few others. There are about a dozen others, the only rule is no talk of your personal outside life. Like past family, or relationships, no names given. Understood?” The doctor - at least you think he was a doctor, maybe an orderly - told you. 
“Yes, sir.” You nodded once more, turning back to the remaining others in the room. You had passed about four or five, and there were just as many here in the room now, some you had passed joining you. They all had their things that they gravitated to, but you didn’t move at first.
It wasn’t until the sound of a piano and low humming grabbed your attention that you stepped further into the room. Whatever tune the person played, it was familiar, and it drew you over like a moth to the burning flame.
He stopped playing when you got close enough, for a moment frozen before he suddenly leaned back far enough he was looking up at you upside down, brown tufts of unkempt hair hanging down to expose his face. Wild, almost insane eyes stared up at you, matched with an unhinged grin with perfect teeth.
“Did you like that?” He asked in a singsong voice, fingers still paused on the keyboard.
If you had sense, you would realize the man was insane. He had cloth wrapped around his wrists, dried blood on them and broken painted nails that also had dried blood under them. His neck had a similar white cloth, tied in a big bow that somehow made him look boyish.
Boyish and mad, but not an ounce of a threat.
“I did. What’s the song?” You hummed out, for the life of you unable to name it.
He shrugged casually, sitting up and rolling his dainty shoulders back, making them seem wider than they were a moment ago. “Can’t remember. Only the tune.” He started playing it again, singing it a bit louder in a beautiful voice that just drew you in.
You stepped closer, just to have someone else suddenly grab your wrist and yank you away. Turning with a gasp, you stared up at another patient, black hair past his sharp jaw, fierce eyes staring you down a curved nose that was oddly beautiful. “Don’t get too close to Hongjoong, He’s as mad as they come.”
“As if you’re any better, Wooyoung.” The man on the piano, Hongjoong, sang back followed by a laugh that could only be described as joyful insanity. “No sanity for me, no love for you~~” His fingers danced against the plastic keys of the keyboard, playing a different tune with a heavier build and faster tempo. “All who come must leave something behind.”
Wooyoung scoffed, dropping your hand with a sneer. “Just don’t encourage him. He’s fucking annoying.” He grumbled out, flipping off the man on the piano and then sauntering elsewhere to leave you be.
They were both odd, but your whole life had been odd so it didn’t necessarily bother you.
In fact, each of the other patients you met had something odd about them. One had a strong fear of water to the point he was sedated regularly to be bathed and cared for. Another was apparently so afraid of everything that he never left his room. There was a man who didn’t talk, and another who was convinced he was a cat, but otherwise not a single one seemed dangerous, all opening up to you easily in the days that passed.
You were beginning to worry about the experiment after the first week, only taking the medicine they asked for just before bed, and then having to tell an orderly the date the next day. So far, you had no missing time, nor any weird side effects.
Not until the second week.
It was just a dream, at least you told yourself. You were staring up at an oddly colored sky that was a swirl of colors, but when you sat up from the hard ground beneath you, your surroundings seemed desolate. Destroyed buildings that looked like they were an array of colors and materials before, now just piles of rubble. A red brick road barely visible under the rubble a few feet from you, and the thick forest around you seemed devoid of life, or leaves.
It was a colorful land turned wasteland, and for some reason, your chest was tight at the sight.
Slowly you pushed yourself up from the dirt, stepping onto the uneven road and turning your head to look down both paths in a debate of which way to take. You could barely make out a city in the distance to your right, so that’s where you would go. Maybe there was life there? Answers to why this place was so debauched?
Maybe it could answer why you needed answers to begin with, heading down the road with careful steps. It felt like hours walking, the landscape devoid of sound as it was of life, only the rubble and dried twigs snapping under your bare feet could be heard. On occasion you stepped just wrong on something that had you wincing in pain, and by the time the forest became less dense and more buildings were inside, the soles of your feet felt scrapped up and were throbbing.
Odd to feel pain from a dream, you mused, but perhaps more odd that you didn’t question it much.
Even once in the center of the torn town, there was still no life. No hum of electricity or fires, no light other than the seeming forever setting sun in the distance. Nothing.
With a sigh you sat down on the edge of a water fountain with no water, running your hands over the worn stone and marveling at the feeling on your fingertips. It truly felt real. But that just made it even more disturbing. If such a desolate place was real, then the horrors that made it so were as well.
You thought about finding a bed to lay down in, since despite the long trek you didn’t feel hunger but you felt exhaustion. There was also an overwhelming loneliness that sat in your chest, which made you want to leave this place sooner as if it was the cause of it.
Until you heard movement.
Sitting up straight you looked around, scanning for where the noise came from. Your eyes widened when they landed on another figure. A familiar figure.
Hongjoong grinned as he saw you, giggling in that familiar way you knew but there was something different about him: almost sane.
“You’re here? Oh you are here!” Laughing louder he rushed over to you, still grinning wide. “Hm, I wonder what’s different about you. Here we have what we lost, you know.”
“Well if you have your sanity, it doesn’t seem like it.” You let out a scoff, but overall were glad to see him. “Are you going to talk in riddles again or can you explain to me where I am? Is it a dream? It doesn’t feel like a dream."
He sat down next to you, quiet as he looked around at what once had been a beautiful town no doubt. “I don’t know where here is, but I know it’s not the lab. It’s not that world. I can’t remember the name, just a feeling it was home at some point. I’ve met Wooyoung here before, but he was different. He doesn’t remember when he wakes. Neither do the others. It’s just missing time.”
With a frown, you digested his words. It sounded insane, and the man was insane, so why should you believe him? Yet you did. You believed him completely. “So, the missing time in my memory, was it because I was mentally here?”
“Bingo!” He beamed over at you. “If you pay attention to the white coats, you’ll hear them talk about dream walking. That’s what they call this, what we do.”
Dream walking? That didn’t explain what this place was, or why you seemed tied to it, but you didn’t think Hongjoong would have the answer. “What if I forget this when I wake up?” “Good question. Do you want to wake up now?”
You still felt inexplicably sleepy, and despite accepting the information he had given, it still felt like so much. So much emotion and knowledge you weren’t sure how to process it. Not to mention the need to confirm it. “Yes, I want to wake up.”
“Then… Do you trust me?”
Did you? That was another good question. You never trusted anyone in your life, and he was an unpredictable man in the real world, which seemed to transfer to this realm as well. And yet, you found yourself nodding. “I think so?”
He reached out, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over the center of your palm. “I apologize for this then.”
Before you could question, you were screaming out in pain, glancing down at the piece of glass now embedded in your palm. Blood gushed out, head spinning as you took note that his hand was bleeding as well from the grip he had on the other edge, blood trickling down until-
You sat up screaming and holding your hand to your chest, tears running freely as panic spiked through you. Pain radiated up your arm to your chest, and in your panicked state you noticed blood. Blood oozed from the piece of dirty glass in your hand, dripping onto the white gown you wore, and the bed beneath that looked as if it had been tossed through the dirt.
The door to the room burst open at your cries, two orderlies and a nurse rushing to your side. Through your tears you recognized Jongin at the door, one of the doctors that checked in on you.
Whether it was because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins as the nurse and orderlies held you down, or Hongjoong’s actions in the dream making  you more alert, you heard Jongin even through the chaos as he spoke into a small device.
“It happened, patient seventeen experienced it. And they brought back an object.”
Sobbing out, you turned your attention to the glass the nurse was examining, knowing just what he meant. You brought an object from a dream back with you. How was that even possible?
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Things were vastly different after that. You saw the scientists and doctors more than you saw the others like you. Their reactions were a mixture of excitement and curiosity, but some seemed quite apprehensive of you, reluctant to even touch you.
Sitting on the new bed you were brought to, Doctor Junmyeon sat in the seat across from you, taking notes on a notepad as they tried not to let electronics in this room. You were curious about what happened to Hongjoong, because while you hadn’t told them it was him that had stabbed you with the glass, you were worried his hand had been injured just like yours and they knew anyway.
If they did, would they isolate him like they did you? Even if he had stabbed you, you didn’t want that. He was the first real connection you had to the other plane.
“Alright Seventeen, we’re going to try to induce you into that state tonight, is that alright?”
While you swore you had returned to the other plane since you were moved here, unlike the time Hongjoong stabbed you, you couldn’t remember it. So you had no idea if you met any of the others there or so forth. “If I do… what if I don’t remember?” You asked hesitantly, playing with the worn out bandage around your hand. After two weeks it was mostly healed, but there were fresh scraps on the bottoms of your feet every few days. That was how you assumed you were over there.
The man smiled, playing up the charm to ease your nerves as he leaned over and gently placed a hand over yours to stop you from agitating the wound. “That’s alright. This is just a test to see if you can be sent over with the drugs we give you. Is that alright?”
Blushing at the small contact and staring at his thumb brushing over your knuckles, you nodded. “Yes, sir.” Doctor Kim Junmyeon was the head Doctor here at the facility and since your incident, he had been personally coming to see you and explain the tests they were doing. The medication they often gave you knocked you out, but there had been times it was at the cost of your stomach contents first. Doctor Jongin usually assisted him, and then the orderly Kim Minseok helped you with your meds. They seemed nicer than the Doctor Minho that had been in charge of you before, dismissing all of your questions with a sneer. 
So you trusted them as you were laid down moments later, the heat turned up in the room to make up for the lack of blanket and mimic the humid atmosphere you had told them you remembered before. Doctor Junmyeon was the one to personally inject the blue medicine into your arm, a new one, before brushing your hair out of your face.
“I know you won’t let me down-” You were already falling asleep, but you swore he said your actual name.
You knew this time was going to be different since you did find yourself conscious in the other zone. Before, things went black and the next thing you remembered was waking up. You double, then triple check that you were indeed fully awake and aware, taking a few slaps to the face just to be sure.
Vividly, you remembered the fountain where Hongjoong had stabbed you, but this time it was nowhere in sight. You weren’t outside either though, instead staring at the highest ceiling you thought possible, the top so far up, it was dark, but you knew it was pointed, considering the angled ceiling you could see. Was it just that dark?
It was also intact, unlike all of the buildings you had seen before. Vaguely, you remembered a destroyed city past the forest, but there had been a tower or two that was still standing tall. Were you there now? Did you make it to the city in the time you could not recall.
Slowly you sat up, palm against the blankets that were beneath you: dusty but they were blankets.
Had you made a bed the last time? Was that how you left, laying down and sleeping? By why here, in this tower? 
One glance around was enough of an answer, this place was tidy and intact, only a pile or two of ruin but there were actual lights on the walls and less debris dust than even that small town. And… running water.
Your eyes fixated on the faucet pouring water into what looked like a roman bath, steam bellowing from the hot water but it didn’t hide the figure there. Well, plural figures.
They were across from each other, one sitting on the edge, their back facing you but you could see their legs spread and a hand between them. The soft sounds coming from them gave you a good idea of just what they were doing, heat rushing up your neck. You couldn’t make out the expression of the man sitting in the water, leaning against the other edge, but he was clearly watching the show.
Why it was happening yards from your sleeping form was lost to you, unless you hadn’t physically been there a moment ago. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away, ignoring the foggy figure you couldn’t make out and instead the back of the tall man that was clearly playing with himself in a sexual manner.
“Can I come? Please?” The deep voice panted out and you had to stop yourself from responding: he wasn’t talking to you after all. 
A low chuckle responded instead, bringing your attention right over to the other man. He moved through the water, stepping up so it was waist high instead, the fog clearing enough you could make out his features more as he approached the one stroking himself. “Of course you can, Princess, I could never deny you when you listen so well.” He placed his hands on either side of the man, similar in stature but radiating energy that made him seem bigger- more dominant. “I would taste you if I could, would you like that?”
“P-Please.” More breathless moans followed, getting higher in pitch as well as clear wet sounds of him stroking his cock faster. His head fell back, dark hair sticking to his forehead, eyes shut, but you could make out such plush lips and sharp cheekbones. You were captivated, lips parted just as his were, but he was the one who let out a silent cry, body tensing with his climax.
Pressing your thighs together, you tried to feel shame for seeing such an intimate thing. One you didn’t expect to see but still, the show wasn’t for you.
Mind reeling, you found yourself sitting up straighter when the larger man met your gaze, lips twisting up into a sly smirk. “So the little dove awakens? Apologies you couldn’t see the full show in all its glory.” He moved to the side of the other, pulling himself out of the water with ease, splashing a good deal of it onto the marble floor.
You quickly looked away so as not to see his lower half, covering your eyes as your mouth ran dry. Each of his steps closer rang in your ears, resulting in you shrinking into yourself even more. “I didn’t mean to watch-”
“It’s alright.” He cut you off, voice much closer now. “Open your eyes, I’m covered. I want to give you a better welcome.”
“Welcome?” Slowly you peeked through your fingers, breath hitching at just how close he was. Dark hair with blue tones, eyes that shone like sapphires, and soft features that had a warm charm to them; all of his features were accentuated by the water droplets running over golden skin and clinging to the soft strands. You didn’t dare to look lower.
“Mhmm. A welcome. Stand up, we can leave the room and give Mingi a moment to wash up and dress. Unless you are having trouble walking?”
At his words, your head swiveled to stare at the other man, watching as he slipped into the water and dipped down until his chin was level with it. He smiled over at you a bit sheepishly, but he didn’t look familiar. Just his name. Some of the other patients had mentioned that the one who kept himself in his room out of fear had been named Mingi.
Was this the same man?
“No, I can walk just fine. But um, where to?” There were several doorways but you couldn’t make out what was beyond them.
“How about that one over there?” He pointed to an arch just behind what looked to be a throne, then stood up and gave you space. 
With a nod you climbed to your feet, feeling a bit wobbly as you did, but headed through the archway. The room you stepped into was blank, some odd looking rubble the only objects, leaving you a bit confused. You turned to look up at the man, just to gasp at how much he did tower over you.
“Keep walking.”
“But there isn’t anything here.” You protested, taking note he stopped a foot from you.
“Check again.” He laughed under his breath, a spark in his eyes as you momentarily pouted, ready to argue.
Any protest did die in your throat when you turned back and saw the rubble was replaced with plush sofas and decor, much like an inviting waiting room or a sitting area. Your mouth hung open, momentarily gaping like a fish before turning back to him to see him laughing behind his hand. “How did-”
“I can explain if you’ll take a seat.” His laughter nearly doubled as you rushed to the nearest sofa and plopped down, eyeing him intently. “That eager?”
With a nod, you didn’t dare tear your gaze from him. “I want answers.”
“I can give them to you. In time.” He stepped in front of you, the fluffy white robe shifting into a velvet blue suit with a fluff on the outer jacket that mirrored a flower. A white button up was under the blue vest, and the sparkling red shoes he wore were a bold and clashing statement. They held your attention the most, an odd familiarity to them. “You really don’t remember the last time you were awake here, little dove?”
The change in his tone had your gaze snapping back to his face, taken back by the sorrow you saw there. “Ah, no, I don’t. There was only one time I remember being here, though I assume I’ve been here a lot?”
He nodded, taking a seat across from you and crossing his leg while resting his hands on the arm rest, exuding power although he watched you with an immense fondness. It was almost alarming the way he looked at you as if you were some long lost friend he had missed. “I believe you have, though the first time I had seen you, in a long time, was the last time you were here. A shame, you grew up so much and yet I can’t hug you or show my joy that you are here. A bigger shame you don’t remember me at all.”
There was a tightness in your chest that agreed with him, but it still left so many questions. “What’s your name? So I can try and remember it next time?”
“Yunho."
“And what is this place, Yunho?”
“I have long forgotten the name of it. It’s like it lost its name when it started decaying.” He sighed, tearing your gaze away and with a wave of his hand, like a mirage, images appeared all around you, just floating in the air like bubbles. “This is what it once was, I remember that much.” The sights of bustling towns and vibrant structures and lands had emotion welling up in your throat. It was extremely familiar, like a place you had seen in your dreams so long ago. “And now it’s…” “Yes, now it’s an empty wasteland.” The images shifted to burnt forests and black wastelands with destroyed buildings. It looked like life was literally sucked out of the land. “The people all disappeared, for I remained. Some return, like you or Mingi in the other room, but rarely remember your times here."
“Does Mingi remember?”
“He does. He remembers me, but he says he has no memory of where he is outside of this place. Do you?” He waved the images away and turned to you, leaning forward on his elbows. “Do you know where you are when you sleep? Do you know where you go?”
Automatically your mouth opened to answer, but instead you frowned. “I… I do. But I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“Why not? Do you not trust me?”
“Quite frankly, I don’t know. I feel like I can, but I also feel like I can’t. You can wave your hand and make things, and the fact that I can be in two places, two worlds, is also terrifying.” You sank into the plush fabric beneath you, frowning at the hospital gown. “Could you… are you able to change what I’m wearing?”
“What an odd thing to ask.” He mused, but went quiet, cupping his chin in thought. “I can't, but I can create something for you to change into if you would like?”
You nodded without hesitation, standing up to do that just to get flustered at his soft laugh. “What? You offered.”
“I did, but do you want to change in front of me?”
“I-” something about the way he had said it made you think about what you witnessed in the bath, the show Mingi had put on for him. Those thoughts moved to you doing the same, which had your thighs pressing together. “Where can I change?”
He stood up once more, a snap of his fingers and a box with a pretty bow appeared on the table before you. “In here. I’ll go get Mingi.” He was walking out of the room with such long strides that he was out of sight before you could reply.
So you turned your attention to the box, undoing the silk bow and opening it up to find a neatly folded blue dress that matched the suit he wore. Elbow length flowy sleeves and a knee length skirt that once on fit your form almost perfectly. Snug but comfortable, and it made you feel prettier than the gown did.
You were sitting back down when they came back, Mingi also dressed in a blue velvet suit; you wondered if that was a personal preference for Yunho.
“Ah, it suits you.” Yunho commented as he took the same seat as before, Mingi sitting on the sofa to his right. Just like before, they didn’t touch, bringing up his earlier words.
“So you can’t touch us? Is that why he was- um-”
“Masturbating for him?” Mingi added on, smiling a bit bashfully but he met your gaze. “If Yunho touches me, I go away. Don’t know where-”
“But you do, right little Dove? Is Mingi in the other place as well?” Yunho added on when Mingi trailed off.
Slowly you nodded your head. “I believe so. I’ve heard his name, but I never saw him in person.”
“Then how do you know it’s me?” Mingi relaxed in the seat, completely at ease with the questioning. Considering the Mingi you knew of kept himself locked away out of fear, and that this one seemed the opposite of fearful, you couldn’t say it was the same man.
Still, you shrugged and pushed on. “There are… others there, that are like me, I'm told. The Mingi there is one of them. One of the others, I met there, and met here, so I’m just making an assumption.”
“Makes sense, all those I’ve met disappear when I touch them. Maybe because I am here, but they aren’t?” Yunho hums out, leaning back in his chair. “There is one I’ve met that seems to remember, if only a little, but he prefers wandering the lands. Maybe you met him? Hongjoong?”
Out of reflex, you rubbed at the bandage around your hand, Yunho’s eyes following. “Ah, you had that last time, but couldn’t remember how you got it. Do you remember now?”
“Yes. Hongjoong stabbed me with glass the last time I remember being here. It woke me up, but the glass…” Did you tell him it had gone with you?
By the look in his eye, you didn’t have too. “I see. Would you like me to scold him next time I see him?”
“No, it’s alright. Will you answer more of my questions instead?”
Yunho tilted his head in question, watching you carefully for a moment before he settled on what to say. “In time. I want to make sure you remember what I tell you. Why don’t you tell me about your trip where Hongjoong stabbed you instead. And I will tell you a story as well.” 
Agreeing, you recanted step by step your journey the last time you could remember, leaving out the mention of white coats and just that Hongjoong called this dream walking. It still sounded insane to you, especially as it was becoming obvious this wasn’t a dream. You were, for whatever reason, awaking in a new world or dimension when you slept. Two halves of a whole. 
The story that Yunho told you was of a young girl, beloved by those that lived in this castle. He told you that she had many friends, from a scarecrow to a lion, and they all adored her. But none as much as her closest friend, her confidant, a beast tied to the very dungeons of this castle.
When asked why it was relevant, he had quite a forlorn and sad expression as he fiddled with the velvet flower. “Because that’s where the story starts, with them.” Then he had changed the subject, saying it was about time the both of you went back and he would prepare a room.
Once left with Mingi, you had a question for him alone. “Why… why were you doing that with Yunho in the bath? Are you two lovers?”
He smiled wryly as he stood up. “Yes and no. This place can be quite lonely, so it gives him pleasure. He’s never touched or kissed me, only said the things he would like to do, and sometimes told me what to do myself. You’ll get there eventually with him, most of us do.”
It didn’t answer your question completely, but you didn’t press. You couldn’t imagine being the only one here, unable to touch anyone for years, not without them going poof the second there was a touch.
Yunho returned after that, leading you both to a large bedroom that did look lived in, with hues of blues and silvers and yellows that suited Yunho, but also felt familiar. Climbing onto the bed opposite Mingi, you watched the taller man lay down and fall asleep in seconds. But not you, you weren’t ready to go.
“Yunho?”
“Yes?”
Turning to him, you beckoned him closer. “I have a secret to tell you, lend me your ear?”
Hesitantly, he eyed you for a moment before leaning in and turning his head to listen even though you both knew there was no one around to hear anyways. 
With your heart racing, you gripped the bed covers, making up your mind before acting. “Thank you, I look forward to the next time.” And quickly you pressed a kiss to his cheek. The soft touch of his flesh for only a second before he, and the room were gone.
You found yourself sitting up in the bed back at the lab, blinking away the sleep to find Doctor Junmyeon just inches from your face, a hand on his cheek. He looked more bewildered than you felt, the dip of his gaze drawing your own.
This time you brought back the velvet dress.
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Of course the doctors were elated, turning a lot of their attention onto you. Twice a week they would induce the dream, and every time you woke up in the palace with Yunho.
While the doctors gave you tasks, you played the story game with Yunho each time, learning much about your dreaming abilities and the world Yunho was in.
For example, if you willingly slept in Yunho’s world, you didn’t remember the dream when you woke. So, you had gotten into the habit of touching Yunho to send yourself back. Afraid to tell the Doctor’s about Yunho just yet, you theorized with the man himself, deducing it took a shock to jolt you awake for the memory to stick, otherwise your brain forgets from the time you sleep to when you wake up. So a forceful awakening was needed.
Another thing you learned is that you couldn’t bring everything over, but it did go both ways. Food you couldn’t, but permanent objects like the glass or clothes you could, just no electronics.
From listening to Doctor Junmyeon and the others, you were the only one who could bring physical things too and from. And, while you didn’t divulge everything, you did say you remembered bits and pieces.
They let you interact with the others once more, though Hongjoong never brought it up in the lab, he did apologize profusely the next time you saw him at the castle. Finally you saw what he meant before, with Wooyoung being the biggest tell. Heartless he seemed in the lab, devoid of life with no emotion on his features, but in the castle? He had quickly become clingy and needy, his laughter ringing through the marble halls and professing his love for any who would hear it.
There were others, the contrast night and day, and you started leaving a journal in the dream world of the differences and your own notes.
This went on for weeks, from playing games with Yunho and finding out about the dream world, to doing your best for Doctor Junmyeon to earn praise and support without ever telling him about Yunho. You told him you met the others, earning even more time with them and joint experiments which just resulted in you spending time with them and Yunho.
The more you got to know the mystery man in dreamland, and the progress you made with the doctors, you were aware there was something dark behind the scenes.
Yunho told you stories of a girl, or sometimes stories about the others, and often you thought he was talking about them and yourself from a time before. Before the world became a wasteland. When you finally asked him how it became so, he would push it off, saying you didn’t need to know.
As for Doctor Junmyeon, you were sure he caught onto the existence of Yunho. He often asked if there was anyone else there, that wasn’t here. Or any animals. You should have known something was amiss when he tested to see if you could bring over a bird.
The fact it was a dove scared you. It scared you more to see Yunho’s reaction.
He stared at it as if he wanted to break it’s neck, an aura radiating from him that seemed to darken as the dove tried to flee from your hands. Thankfully Wooyoung had been there, convincing him that he didn’t need to harm it, so instead he created a cage and put it there.
“I need this alive for the next time.” You told him, attempting to placate Yunho yourself.
He snarled, collapsing onto the sofa in the little waiting room and stared you down with dark hooded eyes. “Convince me. There are doves here. Why did it have to be a dove?” Biting your lip, you glanced over at Wooyoung who was doting on the bird through the cage, all smiles. This version of him had grown on you, and perhaps how bold he was as well, considering what you did offer.
Wooyoung’s head turned so fast he might have given himself whiplash, eyes bulging out of his head at your suggestion. It did the trick though, Yunho was now leaning forward, elbows to knees and hands clasped before him, grinning with a look of lust you had seen on his features more than once when talking to you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t flirted, he had made it clear he found you attractive, admitting on more than one occasion he wished he could touch you, more than any of the others.
Perhaps you returned the sentiment, considering you just offered to touch yourself on his command if the bird was indeed there when you returned.
Wooyoung spent most of the time you were there teasing you for it, telling you that there was no going back now. You didn’t want to go back.
You knew you could fuck any of the other patients in the lab, you had seen them do it. Wooyoung himself would go to other rooms, and he would tell you it was in an attempt to feel something, while Hongjoong just enjoyed it. You could have either of them if you really wanted, and part of you did, but not as bad as you wanted Yunho.
The man you couldn’t touch.
The tension between you both was heavy for that visit and he made a show of sitting closer to you than he normally would. Inches from you rather than feet, distracting you from whatever Wooyoung was babbling on about now. At least until Wooyoung got quiet. You looked up to see he was gone, indicating he woke up.
Another thing you had noticed. When you slept here, your body disappeared. Mingi’s, Wooyoung’s, Hongjoong’s- everyone’s. Yours though, sometimes it stayed, appearing more like an apparition than a body according to Yunho.
Another way you were different.
“I’ll tell you something crucial this time, little dove.” Yunho drew your attention back to him, leaning against the back of the sofa with his shoulder. “I don’t have all of my memories, just the before, and after. Before with the girl and her friends, and an after with a wasteland I am alone in. It wasn’t always a wasteland, first the people were just… gone. But over the years I saw it, everything collapsing. The furthest lands, slowly aching this way. This tower, I can’t leave, I’ve tried. But it also remains mostly intact. I can shape it to my will, but not outside. You all say your versions over there have lost something, well it feels as if I have lost something too.”
Your heart hurt for him, unable to imagine the life he had here in this world. “Do you know where they went? The people?”
He shook his head, glancing over your head out one of the stained glass windows. “No. I only know that without them, this world isn’t complete, and neither am I.”
You sat in silence for some time after that, mulling his words over carefully. Without really saying goodbye you leaned back against the sofa on your side, mirroring his form and smiling up at him as you reached out. His own smiling visage disappeared from your sight as you had touched his hand, now looking over at Doctor Junmyeon and holding his hand.
The experiment was a success, the bird wasn’t with you, and when you returned, the dove was still alive.
As promised you gave Yunho an evening where you sprawled on the bed naked, touching yourself every which way he wanted you to. He made you whine and beg to come over and over, until you were so exhausted you had to beg to stop before you passed out.
To your surprise, he climbed into the bath with you, sitting across, and giving you an equally tantalizing sight. He stroked himself off, much like Mingi had done for him that first time you remembered him, but you remember thinking it might be a good thing he couldn’t actually fuck you. You had no idea how you would be able to take his massive size otherwise.
It was a shame you couldn’t curl up next time him afterwards though, stepping out of the water feeling touch starved despite his gaze eating you up for what had felt like hours. Perhaps you could curl up with Hongjoong once you returned? Just to feel that physical intimacy you so desperately needed now.
It had you in a rush to get back, changed into a new outfit you pulled the dove out of the cage and sat down in the same spot you had awoken. Yunho sat down across from you once more, watching you with such warmth you also didn’t want to leave. Wordlessly, you did, waking up with the dove alive in your arms.
Not that Junmyeon cared. He and the others seemed a bit more flustered over your damp hair, and the soaked bed from when you had supposedly cum over and over, soaking it, making sounds they all heard. As well as who they had been for.
“Who is Yunho?”
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Reluctantly, you told Junmyeon everything. He seemed shocked at first, but then understanding as he held your hand and nodded along. But by the end of your tale, he looked concerned.
“Are you sure he hasn’t bewitched you somehow? He can manipulate the space in that tower, how sure are you that he can't manipulate you?”
The simple question filled you with doubt. There had been times you felt as if you couldn’t trust him, some instinct that said it was a bad idea. Was this why? 
Junmyeon moved onto the bed next to you, now a clean one, and rested his hand on your knee as he muttered your name. “I think it’s time to tell you the truth about what we do here.”
You were silent for a moment before looking up at him. “You already know why we all have the missing time. You already know about the other side… don’t you?” You had figured it out a bit ago, Junmyeon didn’t seem shocked about your descriptions of the other place or that you saw the others there. In fact, he seemed elated you remembered it and could transfer items to and from. “You want to get to the other place… don’t you?”
With his nod, your heart sank. The whole reason you never asked was you wanted to be in denial; wanted the concern Junmyeon showed you to be because you were someone he really wanted to help. But you were a tool to him, to get to the other side.
All of you were.
“Yes but… I would like to tell you why. Will you listen?” He grabbed both of your hands but you pulled them away and stood up, unable to look at him.
“It’s a wasteland over there! Why would you want to go there? What does it have that-” You answered your own question, staring up at him with abject horror.
Yunho.
They wanted Yunho. 
Junmyeon began to panic, standing up and shaking his head. “We do but not for the reasons you think! Listen, he isn’t an ally to you, he’s deceiving you.” As you shook your head vehemently, Junmyeon grabbed your biceps. “Think about it, you’re a smart girl. He can manifest physical things and change that tower to his will. Do you really think he can’t change the land? Or make you see things that aren’t true?”
“But he wouldn’t-”
“Let me prove it to you. Please.” There was a desperation to his tone now that had you wincing, tears brimming in your eyes. You didn’t think he was lying to you, it often felt like Yunho wasn’t telling you something.
“I… okay.”
He sighed with visible relief. “Thank you.” He cupped the back of your head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You wanted to enjoy the simple touch, wanted to rely on this man who you thought genuinely cared to make you better.
But now you didn’t trust him. They wanted Yunho, and maybe they were right that Yunho was lying to you. What was the reason though? You wanted to know.
You wanted answers. That’s why you agreed.
Staying in your room until the next experiment, you couldn’t look at the others. They didn’t know about Yunho and the other zone, even Hongjoong never mentioned him over here. It was just you. You are lost in thought, weighing your options, trying to find some missing puzzle piece the entire time you were in solitude.
Then it was time.
Junmyeon explained that Yunho would show his true colors to outsiders, and that’s why you had a guard sitting next to you, holding your hand and getting tied together. Either he would physically or mentally cross over with you, that was the hope, but you felt uneasy.
This just felt like Junmyeon trying to see if you could bring others over, not a test against Yunho. It felt like a trap but you had to go through with it. You needed the answers, so you had to.
“You’ll see, Seventeen, you’ll see.” Junmyeon muttered under his breath as he injected you with the serum to put you under. Disappointment filled your heart as he was back to calling you by your subject number, but you tried not to let it show.
Instead you focused on bringing the guard with you, one you had never seen before.
Beginning to recognize the feeling in your mind that gave away you weren’t on earth anymore, you knew you were on the sofa even before you opened your eyes.
The man was still tied to you, blinking sleep from his eyes as you both stared at each other. There was no time to be elated though, a pained beastly scream was heard throughout the space, even shaking the very seat you were on. The man jumped into action, quickly undoing the ties as the rumbles got closer.
Fear struck your heart when you heard it, your name, twisted like a venomous bite on a beast’s tongue. Eyes on the door, tears burned them as Yunho strode in, a black mass behind him that roared with unmatched rage.
“Why is there someone else with you?!” He spoke through clenched teeth, veins throbbing on his neck so prominent you could even make out the pulse. The shadow behind him spoke the same words, shaking the ceiling.
“Fuck-” If you were afraid, this guard was petrified, holding up a gun you hadn’t seen on his body before hand. “This was suicide-”
“Damn right it was.” Yunho reached out, the next second the man before him, Yunho’s claw wrapped around his throat. The gun had dropped to the floor, the guard now clawing at the blue velvet around Yunho’s forearm. “Answer me little dove, are you betraying me?! Are you bringing the enemy here?!”
Finding your voice finally you stood. “They’re helping me! Don’t hurt him Yunho!” You stepped closer, noticing the furniture decaying rather quickly as the tower was still shaking. “Yunho please!”
He laughed, such a dark and twisted sound it stilled you down to your breath. He looked at you like a beast, lips pulled back in a snarl and a glare so fierce you fell back.
“You fell for it again, little dove. So naive.”
You could only watch in horror as Yunho grabbed the man’s thigh and then ripped it off. Blood splattered in an arch around the room, hitting your gown and arm you held tightly to your chest. Even through the onslaught of tears you could see in detail each limb get ripped off, the man screaming from his life until he was dead. Even then Yunho still ripped him apart, the shadow attached to him like he was a part of it, roaring with laughter.
Blood was soaking your dress by now, the same blue velvet one he had given you. You wore it every time for these experiments, just so he wouldn’t give you more. But now the thick fabric was dark and wet with blood. It was on your arms, your face, kneeling in a pool of it as he dropped the dozens of pieces of the man before you and began to stomp it into a pulp.
He looked like a demon, a beast, reaping enjoyment from turning a grown man into a pile of blood and mush.
The feeling of being soaked in blood, watching bodies get torn apart, was so familiar it unlocked something in you.
Weren’t you found in a blue dress like this? Covered in blood but not an ounce was yours? Bloody footprints behind you, torn up feet, running and running and you had no idea from what.
It had been from him. From this… beast that was licking the blood off his lips and staring down at the remains of the man with an elated and wicked grin. But it was the electric blue eyes of the shadow that fully solidified the memory.
This was why you hadn’t trusted him. You ran from him before, scared he would rip you apart too, just like that. You willed yourself to wake up, to stand and run, to do something, but all you did was sit there shaking and sobbing, struggling to breath.
When he finally seemed to notice you, your breath halted completely, locking eyes with him and unable to look away.
His smile faltered, stepping through the remains with a squelch under his red shoes before he knelt down before you. “Don’t look at me like that, you brought him here. Don’t you know this is our home? All those fucking intruders do is steal and take. They took you from me. They took you all from me.”
“I-I thought-”
“Thought I didn’t remember? I lied.” He didn’t touch you, but both he and that shadow dwarfed you with ease. “I lied because you hated me for hurting them last time and ran. I didn’t want you to run again, little dove. It’s been so lonely without you.”
Gasping out, your breathing picked up, tears falling faster. “I just want answers, Yunho. Just want to know who to trust. You’re scary like this. I don’t like you for being cruel. Why did you have to be cruel?” You sobbed out, ignoring the blood as you buried your face in your hands.
The tower wasn’t shaking anymore and it didn’t feel as dark as it had a second ago but you didn’t look up. You sobbed, wanting to wake up and forget this. You wanted the Yunho from last time back. Not this Yunho.
“I’m sorry little dove, just don’t leave me for good.” His voice had returned to normal, choking on emotion as he reached out, pressing his hand to the top of your head.
You woke screaming, swatting away his hand that wasn’t there anymore as you scrambled off the ground. You were dripping in blood and guts, taking in the sight of the room to find that the bed and furniture were all pushed to the walls, all painted with blood. Your eyes fell to the spot next to you, letting out another scream to find that you had brought it back.
The pile of guts, bone, and blood that was the guard.
Whether it was to be nice to you, or because they knew you were in no state of mind to continue, you were left to your own devices for weeks after that incident. The guards avoided you, and the other patients seemed concerned for you, especially Hongjoong.
You sat with him by the piano, watching him play that same tune he always did. Resting your head on his shoulder, you sighed, knowing you were being watched. “Hongjoong, what do I do?”
“Why are you asking me? No sanity remember.” He teased, leaning his head against yours. “Unless you’re looking for a crazy answer?”
“Maybe.”
“Logically I should ask what it is you are talking about. I really have no clue. But I think you already have the answer, you just don’t wanna believe it.” He stopped playing, instead moving to put you on his lap and your hands on the piano. “Play with me, little dove.”
Before you could question him, he was moving your hands over the keyboard, playing the tune he was just a moment ago. It felt physically familiar, Hongjoong humming the tune in your ear. You let your eyes flutter shut, let him take the lead, and just relax.
It was easy to picture a scenario where you sat on someone’s lap, their large hands over your smaller ones, teaching you this tune on piano. You could hear kids running around, a soft breeze and feel sun rays on your skin.
Someone said your name fondly, laughing as the song came to an end and a little boy with blue black hair ran up to you, holding out a flower. A happy boy with a familiar smile.
You snapped out of the memory, looking up at Hongjoong yet again. “All who come must leave something behind. Do you know what you left behind, little dove?”
“Why are you calling me that?”
He shrugged, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I don’t know, I think I remember someone else calling you that. In a dream.”
How much did he remember as just a dream? “Do you think I left him behind Hongjoong?” Was Yunho what you left behind?
“Maybe? Or he left that behind.” He spoke it with such a conviction you believed it to be true.
Yunho had said he wasn’t over here, and it made sense, but why would Hongjoong say that if he didn’t believe it? And the man had lied to you before. Doctor Junmyeon too, you realized, had also lied to you.
You needed to talk to Yunho, and without the doctors knowing. “Thanks Hongjoong, just one more question.” You climbed off his lap and he turned to look at you with such a serene and happy expression it puzzled you.“I hope I can give you the answer you want.”
“I think you are the only one who could answer it. Do you think we can go back? Permanently?”
He thought it over, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought before grinning. “If you will it, then yes.”
His response answered a lot for you, so many things are beginning to piece together. You just needed confirmation.
Later, when you were sure the guards weren’t looking, you slipped into another patient’s room, spotting him already sleeping. Thanks to Junmyeon you knew if you touched someone who was already there, it did the trick for you. It was a good thing you remembered that Mingi was always there.
He really did look the same, your first time seeing him in this realm and just as gorgeous. Taking a deep breath you climbed into bed with him, laying on your back before you took his hand in yours and shut your eyes.
You were out like a light, finding yourself on the bed from before. Mingi wasn’t beside you, but he was in the room, staring out a broken window.
Broken?
You sat up quickly, starting around the room to find that the bed was the only thing intact, and even then the blankets and canopy was shred to bits. Swallowing hard, you called out to him, shocked to find him crying. “Mingi?”
“He’s hurt.”
Panic swelled in your chest as you got off the bed and rushed out of the room. There were holes in the ceiling, cracks in the wall, and rubble everywhere. But in that main room, the bath gone from existence, Yunho was there.
He seemed to be asleep on the throne, the blue of his suit dirty but there was no more blood on him. Something about him seemed less, as if he was being drained of life like this realm.
Cautiously you approached, stopping just before him and resisting the urge to reach out. “Yunho?” 
No answer.
“Um… Yuyu?”
You could see his eyelids flicker.
“Yuyu, wake up please. It’s your little dove.” Swallowing the panic you tried to keep your voice steady. He had never been asleep before. “Please wake up. Please. I came back, didn't I?”
Still nothing.
Sighing, you sat down on the ground and watched him, calling out to him occasionally. “You said this was our home Yuyu, I was born here wasn’t I?” You rambled, needing to get this off your chest anyways. “But… but something happened. You scared me didn’t you and I ran? Ran over there. But I don’t get it. What happened, Yuyu? Why did we all leave? Did the intruders take us all away? Are they hurting this land? Are they hurting you?”
Nothing still, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up. “I just want to make sense of it. I want to know what happened. I want to undo it and come back. Please, I want to come back. Want us all to be whole again.”
A hand on your shoulder made you jump, looking up to see Mingi watching you with confusion and calling your name.
The next second you were climbing into his lap and holding onto him, sobbing into his shoulder as he held you. Something was very wrong, you could feel it, but without those last pieces of the puzzle you couldn’t do anything.
Mingi held you until you both fell asleep, Yunho not once waking up despite your cries.
What was stranger was the fact Mingi didn’t completely freak out when you both woke up, but that might have to do with the fact you weren’t in bed when he did as you woke up just a bit before him. He had scrambled back to the wall and was staring at you with trembling eyes, but he didn’t scream or yell or cry. He just watched you with obvious fear until you left.
None of the orderlies had been around and you made it back to your room safely. There you just contemplated what to do. If you couldn’t get answers from Yunho, then you had to get them elsewhere.
There was only one other person who could indulge in that, even if he didn’t have all the answers. 
Doctor Kim Junmyeon.
They started these experiments not to fix the patients but to do what you have been doing: They wanted to get to that realm, and to Yunho.  Why didn’t matter, not entirely, but if they thought they could get there that means they had an idea.
You sought him out the first chance you could get, demanding to any of the guards or orderlies to see him, and he was stepping into your room that evening.
“You wanted to see me, Seventeen?” Doctor Junmyeon had even avoided you since then, though you didn’t know why. Shouldn’t he have been happy he was right about Yunho showing his true colors.
That he was a beast to be feared?
Not that you feared him, not until you knew for certain what was going on.
“You said you wanted to get to Yunho. I want to help.”
His face lit up, smiling as he quickly closed the distance and was back to calling you by your name. You didn’t like it though, the sudden change, it made you wary. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, though I’m not sure how I can help. You know how though, right?” Gently you grabbed his hands, feigning admiration as you stared up at him. You once admired him, perhaps you still did, but all you knew was that they wanted Yunho and you didn’t want them to have him.
“Yes yes, we have a way.”
“What is it?” You stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “What do I have to do?” He hesitated then, his larger hand now over yours as he took a deep breath. “I need to talk to my superiors but we suspect you have the ability to open the door again. When it’s open, we should be able to go in and travel completely.” “What if he hurts you? Like he did-” You swallowed, stepping away suddenly with a dramatic act of hesitation. It wasn’t them you were worried about, but Yunho. The other man had a gun, if a hoard of men went in with weapons they could kill him. 
“It’ll be alright, we have a plan though we hope to have him alive. Give me the night to talk it over?” Junmyeon patted your head softly, then let it slide down to cup your cheek and lift your head.
You blushed at his actions, only because you thought of Yunho touching you like this. Maybe it would all work out? Maybe this would all work out and no one would get hurt. Maybe doing what they said was really the right thing to do.
You had a night to figure it out.
Unfortunately you didn’t dream of Yunho and the other realm, instead it felt like you were floating in a dark space for hours on end, the only sound was a child crying.
It left you uneasy for the day, impatiently waiting for Junmyeon to fetch you for the evening. When he did, you found all other patients were in their rooms, an orderly standing in front of each door with two guards at both ends of the hall. Not once had you seen that before and it had you worried even more. 
Intuition told you something big was going to happen and it might not end well. It felt wrong, your stomach twisting with nerves as you were lead to a door that patients could never pass but the staff did.
Then you went down.
Only a floor or two from the elevator, Junmyeon using his ID card to pass through more security doors with grates on them- on both sides.
Down the hall, the silence and presence of more guards unnerving you even more. THis was bad, you had no doubt in your mind.
He led you to another pair of grated doors, the room inside start white aside from a giant rock in the center- no, not rock, part of a building. It was surrounded by machines that held it still, a brick wall and the ground around it, but the most significant part was not the wall.
There was a hand jutting through what appeared like a crack that gleamed a steel blue, the faintest of lights illuminating every crack that stemmed from it. The hand however-
You did not need to ask Junmyeon to tell you whose hand it was, the velvet blue suit you saw peeking around the wrist was enough.
Stumbling back you pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as the realization shook you to your core.
These were the answers you wanted. This was the puzzle piece, solidifying your suspicions already.
You were from there, and Yunho had gone after you. After all of you.
“Do you think you can open it?” Junmyeon said next to you, placing a hand on the small of your back.
Could you?
You would try. 
As an answer you moved around the railing and down the metal steps, swallowing harshly to try and wet your throat, the amount of guards in the room even more unnerving.
They knew what Yunho was capable of. They knew he was a threat and as soon as you opened that door, they knew he would be angry.
You approached the wall, realizing it was larger than it looked from the door. Wires were connected to it, dangling off to machines that showed data you couldn’t decipher. None of it mattered, not when you had to tilt your head back to look up at Yunho’s hand, outreached as if to try and grab something. You had a feeling it had been you.
“Okay, I can do this. Just open the door.” Mumbling to yourself you focused more on the blue cracks that seemed to pulse. They pulsed faster when you ran a finger over the stone, and you could feel that same pulsing in your chest.
Home was just through these cracks.
Following your instincts, and pure desire to do so, you reached up, needing to stand on your toes to reach him. Fingers grazing his, the stone reverberated with the touch. It was when you jumped and grabbed his hand fully there was an explosion of power.
What was happening to your surroundings was the least of your concerns, the pulses of powers rushing out like shockwaves as the stone began to creak and crumble, opening up. There were shouts and screams, someone calling out your name, but it was all background noise.
Memories flooded your head. Who you were, the life you had on the other side with many of the people that were here. But mostly Yunho.
You were just kids when you both got your abilities, both responsible for the state of the realm. Both tied to it.
But only you could leave.
Memories of dreams in this world, meeting a man who took interest in the fact you could simply disappear. As a child you trusted him, telling him the truth.
And he took advantage of that. Lured you to open up a gate for him. But you couldn’t do that without Yunho.
The bloodshed happened in waves as men much like the ones around you swarmed into your home. They grabbed the other kids, ones you recognize, and many many others. The adults that fought got killed. Your parents got killed.
All because of you.
Yunho had only defended, the beast of his tearing apart the men even as you were yanked from him. You hadn’t protested then, not as a child, letting the intruders take you from him. The anguish of his screams as he killed and maimed trying to get to you rang so clearly in your head now.
They twisted to the screams of others, bringing you to your senses as you found yourself on the ground underneath Yunho, cradling your head with one hand while the other held him above you. There was blood on his cheek, eyes practically glowing with the lust and anger in them.
“Yuyu-”
“I’m here, my dove.”
Gingerly you reached up to wipe the blood off his cheek, frowning with concern. “Are you hurt?” “Not my blood.” He nudged his chin to the side to avert your attention. “Theirs.”
The guards were dead, ripped to pieces like the man you brought over, but not everyone was dead.
An alarm was ringing, someone calling out to you. Ah, Junmyeon, he’s still alive. You heard the door latch and lock, growing concerned for you both now.
“Yuyu, the others- Mingi and-”
“I know. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” He was off you in seconds, bursting through the doors and down the hall after the doctor you almost trusted. 
The pools of blood and mutilated bodies meant nothing to you as you surged to your feet as well, concerned only for Yunho. Gunfire was heard and you caught up in time to see the slaughter.
With his bare hands - no claws - Yunho ripped a man’s arm off and threw it at Junmyeon, knocking him down before he got to the second set of doors. You took note of other doctors scrambling over him, but Yunho charged forward with a beastly roar. 
The bullets were flung away by the shadow being around him, little tendrils stopping them and deflecting them right back to the guards that shot them. Yunho took care of the other staff himself. 
Despite still having the features of a human, his hands had massive claws and there was a ferocity to his movements and expressions that was inhuman. Blood covered the white walls, screams and the sounds of flesh tearing and bones being crushed echoed in your eardrums.
And yet you found the sight of Yunho so utterly beautiful in carnage that you had to snap yourself out of it.
Not a single man made it to the elevator, their dying breaths long spent and only Yunho’s heavy pants and the blood dripping from his claws filled the space. Well, paired with your own racing heartbeat and shallow breathing.
Fear did not hit you until he turned to you, a wild look in his eyes. “Now You.” He growled out, taking a step in your direction while wiping blood from the side of his mouth with the bloody sleeve.
You ran back down the hall without a thought, the guilt hitting you once more and fully expecting Yunho to seek his revenge on you. You destroyed your home after all, and left him abandoned there. All alone.
As if you could outrun him though, tripping over your own feet and slipping in the blood that was everywhere now. The wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground, white gown soaking up more of the blood beneath you as you tried to scramble back to your feet.
Where would you even go though?
The floor beneath you shook as he pounced on top of you, hands on either side cracking the floor. He snarled just behind your ear, the sound stilling your every movement and halting your breath in your throat.
Would he kill you now?
“Yuyu?”
“Finally…” He pressed his nose to your shoulder, slowly running it down your back, breath hot against your skin. “Finally I can touch you.”
With a cry you felt pain running up your spine, though nowhere near as much as you were expecting. The gown was torn and you had claw marks on your skin from how he had ripped it off. You turned your cheek to try and steal a glance, just to see him being far more gentle with pulling his pants down.
“Yu-”
“Sh, don’t resist, little dove. Otherwise this is going to hurt much more than it will.” 
You saw it then, his cock springing free and hitting your ass. It was heavy, curved, and huge. Bigger in person. 
He wasn’t going to kill you he-
Two of his fingers pushed into you with ease, his other hand holding your hands above your head. “Hold them there. Good.” Now three fingers, pumping into you at a painful pace, the harsh stretching bringing tears to your eyes. You pleaded for him, full on sobbing when he pushed a fourth in. “I know I know. But you smell too fucking good. Like them though. Need to get rid of that.”
Hiccuping as you were full on sobbing, you only pleaded his name, but not once did you say no.
Not even as his fingers were pulled out and he thrust himself inside. You howled, squirming and trying to get away now at the pain. “Too much- too much Yuyu can’t take it!”
“Yes you can. You’re going to fucking take it. As punishment.” Inch by inch one hand on your hip and pulling you back onto his cock more and more.
“But-”
“You left me there!” He cut you off, thrusting his full length that bulged out your stomach. “And then dared to taunt me with your presence? When I couldn’t touch you? I couldn’t kiss you, fuck you, love you.” He growled out, both hands now gripping the marble enough it turned to rubble beneath his hands.
“I know. I know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Yuyu.” You sobbed out, trembling beneath him as your cunt tried to get accustomed to his size. “I was lost without you, and I just wanted to go home.”
He pressed his forehead to the back of your head, panting heavily. You could tell he was trying to hold back, knowing this would be much worse. “Promise you won’t ever leave my side again?”
“Promise.” No hesitation. You reached for his hand, wrapping your fingers around just one of his and was meant with a warning growl, but he didn’t stop you. Twisting yourself a bit, you brought his hand to your throat, holding it there as you looked back at him. “You’re my home, and I won’t ever doubt that again. I accept my punishment, and then I want to take back our city, with everyone.” Tears had streaked through the blood splatters on your cheeks, bottom lip quivering from the pain as it felt like his cock was literally rearranging your insides, but your gaze was unwavering and full of promise.
He gripped your throat tighter and pulled you back, twisting you a bit more to crash his bloody lips to yours. He swallowed up your pained cry as he tested his hips out, his control slipping with every stroke of your lips until you were sobbing from his harsh thrusts.
Staring down at you with a dark eyes that didn’t waver once with each thrust, you forced yourself to do the same. Even as tears ran down your cheeks again, he licked them up, muttering to you that it would be okay, that you were taking it so well.
Before you knew it, it felt good. Too good. Your blubbering sounds of weak protests turned to pleas for more.
When you first creamed on his cock he was pressing your face into the marble and hunching over you, his other hand on your hip and holding it still as he somehow went harder.
You could see through the tears and blood that he was wearing those red shoes, the gems wet with blood that dampened his blue pants as well. It was only a brief thought, immediately shoved out as he slammed his hips down, the bulge so obvious from this angle.
He was probably half in your womb at this point, your tongue lulled out and drool adding to the many liquids beneath you. It was an effort to breathe between the desperate high pitched cries. The pressure on your skull moved to the back of your neck as his hips kept up their brutal pace, balls slapping against your clit again and again until you were coming again on his cock. “Fuck- can’t last when you’re that tight. Years of pent up tension and you’re milking it out of me like it’s nothing.” You could tell he was close by his raspy tone, deep and guttural.
So you begged for it. “Please come. F-Fill me up Yuyu. M-make sure I can never leave you.” Though it was an effort to get the words out between moans as your brain was fucked into mush, the pleasure and slaps to your clit becoming too much once more.
Thankfully that was all it took, a deep cry ripping through his chest and rumbling in his throat as he buried himself deep and really did unload in you. Enough the sizeable bulge seemed to grow, even with the feeling of his cum oozing out around his cock. You could see a few drops fall to the ground between you, despite your own vision black on the edges.
It was enough to have you cumming once more, even harder, with enough juice it pushed him out some and dribbled to the floor to add to the mess there.
He pulled out a moment later and your muscles went limp, body falling on your side as you tried to fight for any sense what-so-ever. He laughed lowly, leaning over to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your temple. “Fucked dumb so easily. So cute of you, my Dove.”
“Wow you really did some damage.” A voice called out but in your current state you had a hard time to place it or even look in the proper direction.
“Glad to see you made it down here Mingi.” Ah right, the others, how could you forget?
Some shuffling and splashes of feet moving through the blood. “Is she going to be alright?”
“It’ll take more than this to end her, she’ll be fine. She’ll get more punishment back home.” A hand patting your ass which you vaguely deduced was Yunho’s. “Are there more of you?”
“Just a small number of us here.” A new voice, ah Hongjoong. “Though we knew right where the gate was when we got our memories, so if there are any others, they’ll come to us. We might want to make sure the gate is safe for them to come to.”
Someone knelt down before you and poked your forehead, drawing your attention. You looked up at a familiar smile. “Though with the gate open, we have our abilities again. Shouldn’t be hard to defend it. And our sweet Princess should be able to locate the others. What do you say? Ready to clean up your mess?”
You were picked up in the next second, cradled in large arms. The bloody velvet suit was easily distinguishable. “Yuyu?”
“I don’t want to risk the gate falling in the wrong hands. Let’s head back and rebuild. Shouldn’t be hard to open another gate once we’re back to full power.” Yunho was already carrying you back to the portal and the idea of going home filled your weary bones with warmth.
“I have to say though- I don’t want to just return and forget about this world.” Hongjoong added, glancing around at the carnage. “I’ve seen a lot of fucked up shit here, plenty of people treating me, treating us, like scum.” There were a few that called out their agreement.
It reminded you of your own struggles growing up in this world, of not one but two betrayals, and it had you stopping Yunho. “I agree with Hongjoong. I know I was the one who brought them there, but they took everything from us. And only continued to do so over here. This is not enough.” You gestured to the bodies. You stared up at Yunho, the man you desired more than anything else. Slowly his lips twisted into a dark grin that was reflected in his eyes. “I see, then when we return for our brethren, let us show them horrors are always waiting on the other side.”
These humans destroyed not only their world, but their innocence, and it was something they would pay gravely for.
That was a promise.
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daemour · 3 months ago
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AHHH topaz this reblog was EVERYTHING
its so fun to read ur live-action reactions <3 im so happy you had so much fun reading it and figuring out all the little hints and twists in there hehe
and ofc i had to give my bias some great oneliners, i dont give him enough favouritism so i just poured it all here LOL ! UGH hes so cute and soft but when hes fiece he could do ANYTHING to me eek JDGHKJDFHGKJGD
im so glad u enjoyed hehe <3 can't wait for more fun writing with you (but a break from collabs x) !!!)
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MDNI
➳Pairing: mafia boss! Wooyoung x f! nightclub owner! Reader
➳Genre: Mafia au, angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff, smut, E for explicit
➳Summary: The line between hate and love is thin. You're aware of this, and yet you can't help but love Wooyoung, no matter how badly he treats you.
➳Word Count: 15017
➳Warnings: Violence, toxic behaviour from a romantic partner, guns, death, murder, minor injuries, Wooyoung can be read as yandere-he's extremely possessive, manipulation, language, coersion, sexual innuendos [smut warnings under cut]
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This was written for @sanjoongie's Year of the Villains: Year of the Snake collaboration! It was extremely fun to write for, despite all the emotion rollercoasters I went on (mostly of my own doing)
This is indeed a chonker of a fic, so I'd like to formally apologise >v< but please enjoy! It's got very dark themes, so please make sure to read the warnings amply!
➳Smut Warnings: Public touching (no intercourse), slight drunken sex (do not do this), some breast play, praise, degradation, dom/sub (Wooyoung dom, reader sub), unprotected (do not do this without prior discussion), oral (m), deepthroating, fingering (f), riding, !! UNDERNEGOTIATED GUN PLAY !! (do not do this)
➳Please Note: Some scenes will appear dubcon. In one, YN is tipsy, and in others, she has been in fear of Wooyoung prior. Please read at your own risk.
!! If I've missed any, please let me know !!
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“C’mere, doll,” Wooyoung purrs. His lips pull into a wicked smile he has reserved for you, devoid of any softness. His eyes glint as he rakes his gaze up and down your body, every bit the kingpin of the drug scene in his city.
You step forward, your heels clicking with every step you take. You don’t remember how you ended up in this position, starting as a measly nightclub owner. But you hadn’t realised your club ran right in the strip he controls, and one day you were late with rent.
When he came personally, infamous drug lord Jung Wooyoung, something about you just caught his favour. And you can’t refuse his favour, not unless you wanted your club burnt to the ground.
As you move to take a seat next to him, Wooyoung tsks, raising a hand. “Not there,” he instructs, and you hesitate, your false confidence wavering.
“Where would you like me to sit?” you ask, although you know what his answer is going to be.
A smirk plays on his lips as he takes notice of your hesitation, clearly amused by the way you’re trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “On my lap, doll,” he commands, patting his thigh expectantly. His eyes gleam with a predatory intensity, making it clear this isn’t a request but an order from the man who holds your livelihood in his hands.
The air seems to thicken with tension as he waits for you to comply, the weight of his dominance palpable. It’s a subtle reminder of just how much power he wields, and how helpless you are against it.
You hesitate ever so slightly before moving towards him, your movements stiff. As you carefully settle yourself on the edge of his knees, you cross your ankles to try and keep some semblance of your composure.
Wooyoung narrows his eyes, displeased with the minimal contact between you two. Before you can do anything else, he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against his chest, his fingers digging into your body.
“Now, that’s better,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear as he presses a light kiss to your temple. His hand slides up your side, splaying across your waist possessively. “You look even prettier when you’re squirming under my touch.”
Your eyes flick nervously towards the other crime bosses lining the table. Although none of them are as influential as Wooyoung, you still never would’ve expected to see them so close. As Wooyoung’s hands continue to roam your body, you try not to flinch or squirm so much, not willing to hear lewd comments or see the leering from the others.
“Your rings are cold,” you mutter in Wooyoung’s ear as you lean away from his touch ever so slightly. It’s a bid to get him to focus his attention elsewhere, although you know it’ll be in vain.
At your quiet comment, Wooyoung chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Oh, they’ll be warmed up soon enough,” he retorts, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is deliberate, meant to break your fragile attempts at appearing demure. “If you’re truly feeling chilly, maybe we should find a way to heat things up, no?”
With that, he pulls your head towards him, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss that leaves you breathless with no doubt about his intentions. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming it as his own.
Fidgeting, you turn your head to whisper to him, “There are men here…” You turn your eyes down, avoiding meeting his gaze.
“Let them watch, doll,” he purrs, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before shifting to the assembled men. “They all know who you belong to.” Despite his words, he does have business to attend to, and he reins in his affection, though his hands still wander your body possessively.
As the meeting progresses, as much as you try to pay attention, he leans in to murmur something in your ear, reminding both you and everyone else that you’re his plaything.
When a particularly heated discussion arises, Wooyoung’s grip on your thigh tenses, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin in a twisted comfort. It’s a silent message—stay close, stay quiet, and remember your place in this world.
You keep your eyes trained on the wall, although you can still feel the stares of everyone on your body. Wooyoung’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. The unspoken warning is clear; keep your eyes and hands to yourself, lest he shows exactly why he’s the kingpin.
As the meeting winds down, Wooyoung rises to his feet, pulling you up with him. He keeps a firm hold on your waist, guiding you through the crowded room, the men parting for him. Once outside, he releases you abruptly, stepping back to light a cigarette.
“You did well tonight, doll,” he remarks, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Remember, you’re mine to flaunt or hide, whenever I please.” With that, he turns to leave, expecting you to follow without question.
Before you can move to follow, a hand grabs your wrists and yanks you back. You come face to face with a face you’ve seen on papers Wooyoung leaves out rarely—an up and coming drug lord, one new enough to not realise exactly how damning it can be to cross Wooyoung. You quickly yank your arm out of his grip, holding back from striking the man in his neck.  “Now, hold on,” he grins like a cat waiting to swallow a bird. “Why don’t we share?”
Wooyoung’s eyes narrow to slits as he spins around, his expression deadly calm. “Sharing isn’t exactly my style,” he drawls, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Especially when it comes to what’s mine.”
His gaze flickers to the man holding you captive, a silent threat hanging in the air. After a tense moment, you’re released, the man stepping back with a sheepish grin.
“I was just joking, kingpin. No need to get testy,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
Wooyoung watches him for another beat before nodding curtly. “See that you keep it that way,” he warns before turning back to you. “Let’s go, doll. We have business to attend to.”
As we start to leave again, the man mutters under his breath, apparently just wishing for death, “Why bring your plaything along if we can’t use it? Might as well ask us to lick your ass.”
Unfortunately for him, Wooyoung’s hearing is sharp.
His expression darkens further at his subordinate’s crude remark, his grip on your arm tightening almost painfully. “You want a piece of my action, huh?” he sneers, spinning to face the insolent man once more.
Before you can even react, Wooyoung’s fist connects with the lord’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. The sound of cracking bone echoes as he delivers a vicious kick to his ribs, pinning him beneath his boot.
“You forget your place, fool,” Wooyoung snaps, his face contorting with fury. “My ‘plaything’ is off-limits to every last one of you. Touch her again, and you’ll wish for death before you even have time to blink.”
With a final, brutal stop, Wooyoung lends down and presses the butt of his cigarette to the lord’s forehead, branding him with shame before flicking the ashes onto the floor and straightening up.
“Apologies for the interruption, doll. Let’s get out of here before someone else decides to try me,” he hums, his voice softening until it’s almost unrecognisable.
He leads you away from the scene, his pace quick and purposeful. The silence is heavy, the tension from before still simmering in the air. As you reach his car parked a block away, Wooyoung finally speaks, his voice low and measured. “That was a mistake, letting him get under my skin like that. But you saw how quickly I dealt with him, right? Don’t worry, no one touches you without my permission.” He glances at you sidelong, his eyes intense.
You nod shakily, legs trembling from the biting winter wind. “I know…I just wish you wouldn’t lose your temper like that,” you mutter. His bursts of anger always scare you, but Wooyoung’s still riled up and your timing was wrong.
His grip on your elbow tightens, his knuckles whitening as he pulls you closer. “You think I enjoy losing control?” he snarls, lips curling. “I do it to protect what’s mine, including you. It’s my responsibility as the kingpin. How do you think you’ve remained safe? If you can’t handle that, maybe you should find somewhere else to be.” There’s a challenge in his tone, daring you to defy him.
You stumble a little, heels slipping in the ice as you shake your head quickly. You can’t afford to lose his favour. “I meant nothing of it,” you squeak out, shivering at both his intense stare and the wind blowing through your bones. You regret forgoing a coat. “I’m just worried for you.”
Wooyoung heaves a sigh, his expression softening slightly at your words, some of the aggression draining from his stance. He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your chilled skin. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Just focus on staying by my side, and let me handle the rest. You care too much about people, with disregard for yourself.” Oh, how false his words are.
He steps closer, enveloping you in his warmth as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, get in the car and warm up. We need to head home to get you out of the cold.” He guides you forward, his tone reassuring, but there’s an underlying edge that suggests he won’t tolerate any further dissent.
You try to keep yourself from tripping as you hurry forward to slide into the passenger seat. Your face is warm from his touch, but your heart is twisted at his sweet words. The back-and-forth of his actions always confused you, and today is no exception. A constant question in your mind is why he keeps you around.
As Wooyoung slips into the driver’s seat, he pauses for a moment, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.
“Get comfortable, doll. We’ve got a long ride to the apartment,” he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the air.
Once you’re settled and the car is heated up, he pulls out of the parking spot, merging seamlessly into the late-night traffic. The silence between you stretches, punctuated only by the hum of the tires and the occasional blare of a horn.
Your hand twitches as you debate whether to indulge yourself and reach out to hold his hand resting on the console. It’s not wise to entangle yourself further into his web, but as much as you know you shouldn’t, you crave his touch as well.
Wooyoung notices your hesitation, his piercing gaze flickering to your hand before returning to the road. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth as he senses your inner turmoil.
“After all these months, you still can’t decide whether to bite or run, hmm?” he muses, his tone laced with amusement and a hint of something else you can’t place. “It’s cute, really.”
Without looking away from the road, he lifts his free hand, extending his fingers invitingly. “Come on, doll. Go ahead.”
Tentatively, you reach out to interlock your fingers with his, enjoying the warmth his hand brings to you. As soon as your hands connect, Wooyoung’s thumb begins to rub gentle circles, applying gentle pressure. “There you are, doll. Just relax,” he coos, his voice dripping with honeyed persuasion.
His touch sends a shiver down your spine, the sensation both soothing and electrifying. You can’t help but lean into his side, craving more of his comforting heat.
As the miles fly by, Wooyoung continues to play with your hand, his caresses gradually becoming bolder. His fingers dance across your palm, tracing intricate patterns that leave goosebumps in their wake.
Despite the intimacy of the gesture, there’s always a quiet reminder in the back of your mind that he’s a dangerous man, and that in his world, you belong to him. Both body and soul.
-
Weeks pass, and the nightclub is hosting a private party for Wooyoung’s closest associates. Instead of attending as an owner, you’re Wooyoung’s guest. It’s almost embarrassing to be seen as this by your employees, but there’s enough liquor in your stomach that it doesn’t bother you as much as it should.
Wooyoung stands beside you, his arm slung casually around your shoulders as he surveys the crowded room. The dim lighting casts a flattering glow on his features, making him look every inch the powerful kingpin he is.
You’re doing great, doll. The place looks amazing tonight,” he praises, his lips curling into a smile. “My boys are enjoying themselves.”
He nods towards a group of suited men, their clothing a stark contrast to the colourful lights and their wives’ pretty dresses. They’re clearly mafia men, and the way they watch the room with calculating gazes makes it clear they’re always on high alert.
Wooyoung leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “And don’t forget, you’re my doll tonight. So behave yourself and make sure everyone knows it.”
You nod happily, the alcohol in your system making you more responsive to his commands. Although you usually do end up bending to his will, there’s always pushback at first. Tonight, however, you’re content with being a good doll.
Wooyoung smiles fondly, chuckling low in his throat as he pulls you closer. “That’s more like it, sweetheart. I like seeing you happy and compliant,” he purrs, his fingers trailing lightly down your arm.
As the night wears on, Wooyoung keeps a possessive grip on you, ensuring everyone present knows you’re his. He introduces you to his associates as his “wife”, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a casual ease that makes your stomach flutter.
When a particularly bold associate approaches, thinking he can steal your attention, Wooyoung’s reaction is swift and decisive. He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him with an eyebrow raised and a sharp statement on his tongue. “Hands off. She’s mine.”
The man backs off, and Wooyoung turns his attention back to you, a smug grin playing on his lips. “See, doll? No need to worry, or fight for yourself. Just remember, I’m always going to protect you.”
He guides you towards the bar, ordering another round of drinks for you. As the bartender prepares the cocktails, Wooyoung’s hand finds its way to your hip, squeezing gently. “It’s a successful party,” he informs you, his tone businesslike despite the gleam in his eye. “But after this, we’ll celebrate in style…privately.”
His words leave no room for argument, not that you want to. He’s been in such a good mood since the last investment meeting with the other mafia families, and you’d like to try and take advantage of this rare occasion.
You nod agreeable, face flushed warm as you lean in to press your cheek against his. “Okay,” you hum, a slur to your words. “Want me to clear a room here or go back to th’ apartment?”
Wooyoung’s expression morphs into a quiet amusement at your state, a glint sparking in his eyes. “Leave the club to my people. We’ll head back to the penthouse,” he instructs, his voice low and husky.
As he steers you towards the exit, Wooyoung’s hand never leaves your lower back, guiding you with a firm yet gentle touch. Once outside, he flags down a waiting limousine and helps you inside before sliding in beside you.
During the short ride, the tension between you builds, the air thick with unspoken desires. As soon as the car pulls up to the building, Wooyoung opens the door and assists you out, his strong arms wrapping around you to support your weight.
Inside the lavish penthouse, he hands you a glass of water, sobering you up a little more before leading you straight to the bedroom, closing the door behind you with a resolute click.
You smile dopily at him, the alcohol flushing itself out of your system but the high of a party still lingering in your bones. Wooyoung’s gaze rakes over your dishevelled appearance, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Looks like someone had a bit too much fun tonight,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement.
He starts to undress you slowly, his fingers deftly working to free yourself of the dress. As the fabric falls away, revealing your body, he lets out a low whistle of approval.
“You look delicious like this doll,” he murmurs, his hands skimming your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. “All pretty and pouting for me.”
With deliberate slowness, he peels off his own clothes exposing his chiseled physique to your eager gaze. Once naked, he pulls you into his arms, pressing his hardening length against your lower stomach as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss.
Happily, you let your mouth drop open for him to take from, whining quietly as your hands tug lightly at his long hair. He groans into the kiss, his tongue diving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. As he deepens the kiss, he walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed, before gently lowering you into the plush mattress.
Straddling your hips, he breaks the kiss just long enough to trail his lips along your jawline and down the column of your throat. “I’ve wanted you all night, baby,” he admits, his hot breath fanning over your skin.
His hands roam your body, mapping out every inch of you with a reverent touch. His cups your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, coaxing needy moans from your parted lips. His touch is gentle, and you crave it.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” Wooyoung demands, his voice rough with desire. “Tell me you’re mine, completely and utterly.”
“I’m yours, completely and utterly,” you parrot, before mirroring his title for you at the party. “Please, ‘husband’. I want you so bad, Wooyoung.”
A triumphant smirk plays on Wooyoung’s lips as he hears your plea. “Good girl,” he praises, his words tinged with dominance. “Now, be a good wife and spread those pretty legs for me.”
As soon as you do so, he settles between your thighs, the tip of his erection teasing your slick entrance. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, mingling with your own feverish arousal.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t remember your own name,” he promises, his voice a husky growl. With that, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. A guttural moan escapes him as he savours the wet heat enveloping his cock.
You moan in tandem, back arching as he stretches you out so well. “Ah– please,” you whine.
Wooyoung sets a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust, smacking against your cunt with wet sounds. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his deep groans.
Leaning down, he captures your mouth in another bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you with increasing intensity. One of his large hands grips your thigh, using it as leverage to drive himself even deeper.
When he breaks the kiss, he nips and sucks at your neck, marking you as his. “Look at me, baby,” he commands, eyes blazing with hunger. “Watch me while I claim this pussy and mark it as mine.
His gaze locks onto your face, the raw lust in his expression sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
You slowly raise your eyes to meet his as your hips stutter and your eyes well up with tears from the please. “Wooyoung– ah–” you moan his name repeatedly like a prayer on your lips.
The sight of tears glistening in your eyes only spurs Wooyoung on, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. He leans down, his forehead resting against yours as he pants heavily.
“That’s right, baby. I’m your ‘husband’, your master,” he growls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his impending release. “This cunt belongs to me, understand?”
To emphasise his point, he reaches down and rubs tight circles over your clit, the added stimulation pushing you closer to the edge. His movements become more targeted, hitting that spot inside you with each snap of his hips. “Come for me, doll. Let me feel this sweet pussy clench around me,” he demands, his thumb pressing insistently against your sensitive bud.
It doesn’t take much before you come easily with a shriek, creaming around his cock as you squeeze around him like a vice. It’s almost like you’re sucking him in deeper, and it triggers his own release. Wooyoung throws his head back with a guttural moan as he presses his hips against yours impossibly close. His cock pulses and throbs, shooting thick ropes of searing hot come into your cunt.
“Fuck– take it all, you perfect, pretty wife,” he snarls, grinding against you to prolong your pleasure. Wave after wave of pleasure crash over him, his body shuddering with the aftershocks.
As he finally relaxes, he leans on top of you, careful to not crush you with his weight. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along your sweat-dampened skin between heavy pants. “Thank you, doll,” he murmurs, his voice still rough but a hint of gentleness in it.
You hum, turning in his arms to smile at him. The alcohol is almost out of your system now, and it’s been replaced with a warmth in your belly from his sweet treatment. Your hand moves to cup his cheek gently as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
“I wish you were like this all the time,” you hum, more to yourself than anything. Maybe it would’ve been easier to love him.
Wooyoung stiffens slightly at your words, a flicker of something—Guilt? Regret?—passing over his features before it’s quickly masked. He rolls off of you, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.
“You know I can’t be soft all the time, doll,” he says, his tone carefully neutral. “The world I live in, it requires a certain ruthlessness. But this…” he gestures between the two of you “this is real. You’re the only one who gets to see this side of me.”
His words shock you, a sincere admission of the feelings he hides. He turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Don’t ask for things you don’t fully understand, doll. My love may not be conventional, but it’s not false. I protect what’s mine, even if I have to do it in ways you don’t always like.”
You nod slowly, hurt flickering in your eyes, although it mixes with an understanding. “I know, Wooyoung. Just…grant it to me in private. Please.”
Wooyoung sighs deeply, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. After a moment of contemplation, he sits up and pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.
“Alright, doll. I’ll try,” he agrees softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “But you have to promise me something in return. Promise me you’ll never leave me, no matter what happens. Out there in that cruel world, you’re my only light in the darkness.”
His arms tighten around you possessively, as if afraid you might disappear. “I know I’m not an easy man to be with, but you’re stuck with me now. We’re bound together, for better or worse,” he states like it’s what makes the world go round, tilting your chin up with a finger to get you to meet his intense gaze.
You smile at him, eyes shining with an unspoken emotion. Although there are times you question his feelings, moments like these remind you just how much he truly does love you, in his own way. Guilt gnaws at your gut, but it mixes with the warmth of your misplaced love, and you lean up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll stay,” you murmur. “I’ll stay.”
Wooyoung returns the kiss with a tenderness that belies his usual rough exterior, pouring all his pent-up emotions into the gentle caress of his lips against yours. When he finally pulls away, his dark eyes are filled with a rare vulnerability.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with genuine gratitude and affection. “I know I don’t say it nearly enough, and I show it even less, but…I love you, doll. More than anything in my fucked up world.”
He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, his touch gentle. “Get some rest now, baby. Tomorrow’s a new day, and I want you well rested.” WIth that, he settles back against the pillows, pulling you flush against his side.
You curl into him, throwing an arm around him as you press your face into his neck. “I love you too. My love,” you murmur, as much as it pains you to admit.
A contented rumble emanates from Wooyoung’s chest as he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you close and enjoying your warmth. “That’s right, my sweet doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing purr. “Sleep now, and dream of a world where we love each other freely.”
Despite his tone’s roughness, there’s a tenderness in his words and actions, a loving protectiveness that you’ve craved for so long. You feel cherished, and as it overwhelms the sadness in your heart, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting weight of his arms around you.
As your breath evens out, Wooyoung remains awake, watching your face with a fierce devotion. His mind wanders to the enemies he must confront and the dangers that lurk in every shadow. But for now, in this quiet moment of peace, he allows himself to enjoy the feeling of having you by his side.
Gently, he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. “I’d do anything to keep you,” he vows under his breath, a claim over your heart. “Anything at all, to make you mine.”
With that thought, he closes his eyes, his dreams filled with visions of a future where you’re safe, and forever his perfect doll. A world where his darkness is gone and your love is pure.
-
When morning arrives, you roll over only to be met with an empty bed and a note on the bedside table.
‘Good morning, doll.
I had to take care of some business today, but don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, treat yourself and have a bath. We’ll have a busy evening ahead of us.
Wooyoung’
There’s a faint scent of his cologne lingering on the paper, a tangible reminder of his presence even though he’s not here with you. You can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation, wondering what pulled him away so suddenly. Nevertheless, you decide to follow his advice and indulge in a leisurely morning routine.
As much as your heart aches waking up alone, the bath relaxes you, and you fall fast asleep, sinking deeper into the water.
Hours pass unnoticed as you nap peacefully in the warm, fragrant bathwater. Each soft breath makes your body relax more and more as the sun starts to set.
Just as you begin to stir, a sudden commotion erupts downstairs, the cacophony of raised voices and scuffling feet jolting you awake. Startled, you sit up abruptly, sending water splashing over the edge of the tub. The cool air hits your damp skin, causing you to shiver involuntarily.
Concerned, you quickly dry off and slip into a robe, hurrying down the hall to investigate the source of the disturbance. As you reach the corner, a hulking figure emerges from the shadows, blocking your path.
The imposing man steps forward, revealing a bruised and bloody face, one that is vaguely familiar. He’s clearly been in a fight, and judging by the menacing glint in his eye, he’s far from finished.
“Well, well, well,” he sneers, his gaze raking over you with a lecherous hunger. “Looks like the boss’s little puppet is all grown up and ripe for the taking.”
His words spark panic in you, but before you can react, he lunges at you, grabbing a fistful of your robe and yanking you hard towards him. His hot breath fans your hair as he growls, “Seems Jung has been neglecting his duties. Time to show you what real men can do.”
You struggle against his iron grip, but he’s far stronger than you. You don’t want to go back, and you scream, “Wooyoung–” before stomping on the man’s foot and biting into his hand in a bid to get away.
When his grip loosens, you book it to the bedroom, diving for the loaded gun Wooyoung keeps in the bedside table.
Bloodied and enraged, the attacker gives chase, his heavy footsteps thundering down the hall as you frantically search for the gun. Just as your fingers close around the cold metal, he slams into the doorframe, leaning against it heavily.
“Foolish bitch,” he snarls, reaching out to grab at you once more but missing with his clumsy movement. “You think a little toy like that will save you? You belong back with us.”
His words confuse you, but you don’t falter, whirling around in a flash and aiming the gun at his head. “Stay back! I won’t hesitate to use this!”
The intruder scoffs, unfazed by the weapon. “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots. Go ahead, shoot me. It’ll just make the boss angrier. You’ve stalled for too long.”
Your finger twitches but you don’t shoot, not yet. Deep down, you realise what he’s talking about, and your arms shake, but your aim remains steady. “I’ll take Wooyoung’s wrath over returning,” you snap. “I’m his doll.”
The man’s smirk fathers for a split second at your declaration, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his battered features. He seems to weigh his options, calculating the risks and rewards.
“I’ll give you credit, sweetheart,” he says slowly. “You’ve got spirit. But that won’t save you from me, or the boss. And it certainly won’t save you from anyone who wants a piece of whatever Jung owns.”
He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his movements measured and menacing. “Now, either you hand over that gun and come with me willingly, or I’ll take it by force and make you regret ever double crossing me or the boss.”
As he advances, you find yourself backed against the wall, the gun still clutched in your white-knuckled hands. Your mind races, desperate for a solution, but the reality of your situation is grim.
Just as the man reaches out, you fire a bullet straight between his eyes. Blood splatters across the room as the intruder crumples to the ground, dead before he even hits the ground. The acrid smell of gunpowder fills the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood. And as the gunshot rings in your ears, the door crashes open to reveal Wooyoung, blood streaming down his face and his nose crooked, but alive.
For a long moment, Wooyoung stands frozen, his gaze locked on the lifeless body at your feet. Then, with a low growl, he stalks towards you, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness.
“What the fuck happened while I was gone?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Who sent this bastard?”
Before you can respond, he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. “And why the hell did you think you needed to defend yourself? You’re supposed to stay hidden and safe, not play hero with my fucking guns.” His grip tightens, a hint of fear staining the anger in his voice and gaze.
Your eyes dart between him and the body, the adrenaline wearing off and the weight of what you’ve done settling in your stomach. “I…I didn’t know where you were,” you try to explain, your voice sounding foreign even to yourself. “I killed a man. I killed him…I’m a murder.”
As you start to panic, your voice raises in pitch, hands shaking as you drop the gun. Your knees start to buckle. With a swift motion, Wooyoung catches you as you collapse, holding you upright against his broad chest. He strokes your hair soothingly, his touch gentle despite the turmoil raging in his eyes.
“It’s okay, baby,” he coos, his voice a stark contrast to the fury that had consumed him mere moments ago. “You didn’t murder anyone. This son of a bitch had it coming. You defended yourself and me.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as he tries to calm your frantic heartbeat. “I should’ve been here to protect you, or brought you with me. Instead, I left you vulnerable, and this is what happens.”
His own breathing grows ragged, the weight of what happened finally crushing him. “We need to get out of here, clean up this mess. Can you stand for me, doll? I need you strong right now.”
You scramble up, leaning against the wall to steady yourself. You can’t keep your stare off the body, even as Wooyoung is hurriedly stuffing a handful of belongings in a duffle bag. He tosses fabric—a dress—in your face. “Put it on. You’re still in just a robe. We don’t have time for anything else,” he commands.
You quickly follow his instruction even as your mind whirs. As you slip into the dress, Wooyoung’s eyes roam over your stiff and stilted movements, a mix of concern and possessiveness flashing across his features. Satisfied that you’re covered, he nods curtly and zips up the duffle bag.
“Let’s go,” he orders, gripping your wrist firmly and leading you out of the room and then the penthouse. The sound of sirens wail in the distance, growing louder with each passing second.
He hustles you through the darkened streets, keeping to the shadows as they navigate the labyrinthine alleys of the city. The cool night air does little to calm your racing heart, and you can feel the tension from Wooyoung radiating through his taut muscles.
After what feels like an eternity, he finally slows, guiding you into a nondescript building. It appears abandoned from the outside, but as Wooyoung ushers you inside, it becomes clear that it serves as a secret hideout. The space is sparse but well-equipped, with surveillance monitors lining one wall and a cache of weapons mounted on another.
Wooyoung sets the duffle bag down and turns to face you, his expression grave. “This is our safe house,” he explains, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s where we go when shit hits the fan.”
He steps closer, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realised were falling. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “That will never happen again. I swear it on my life.”
Wooyoung’s words hang heavy in the air, a promise forged in the heat of adrenaline and desperation. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck as if seeking solace in your warmth. For a long moment, he simply holds you, his breaths uneven and ragged against your skin. When he finally lifts his head, his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I need you to stay here, lock yourself in the back room until morning,” he instructs, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for disagreement. “I’ll deal with the aftermath of tonight, but you’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”
He brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “Rest, doll. I’ll be back before you know it.”
As he turns to leave, you can’t help yourself and reach out to take his wrist, a pleading look in your eyes. “Please promise me,” you beg. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
At your desperate plea, Wooyoung’s resolve falters. He looks down at your hands wrapped around your wrist, then back up at your tear streaked face. A pained expression crosses his features before he forces himself to nod.
“I promise, doll,” he vows, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ll come back to you, no matter what. You’re mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” With those words, he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his love, fear, and determination into the passionate embrace. When he finally breaks away, he presses a final, tender kiss to your forehead.
“I mean it,” he whispers fiercely. “Wait for me, and I’ll return to you.”
As soon as he exits with one last glance towards you, you quickly follow his instruction, locking yourself in the back bedroom and shoving a dresser in front of the door for good measure. While you wait for his return, your mind wanders back to the moment you shot the man, and a shiver runs down your spine.
Hours pass in tense silence, the only sounds being the distant hum of the city and the occasional creak of the old building settling around you. You pace the cramped confines of the room, your thoughts jumbled mess of fear, guilt, and anticipation.
The memory of pulling the trigger replays in your mind like a macabre filmstrip, each detail etched into your brain with painful clarity. The feel of the gun’s weight in your hand, the click of the safety disengaging, the sudden bloom of crimson as the bullet tore through flesh and bone…
A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shake off the haunting images. But they linger, refusing to be banished. Just as despair begins to creep in, you head the sounds of footsteps approaching, followed by the rattle of keys unlocking the door.
When it tries to open, but thuds against the dresser instead, you can practically see Wooyoung’s exasperated but fond expression in his voice. “Really, doll?”
You quickly rush over to shove the drawers away, thankful for a distraction from your spiralling thoughts. Wooyoung pushes past the now-cleared barrier, his face a mask of exhaustion and relief. The blood is still on his face, but his nose is set back into place, a bruise blooming over the mottled skin. He cans the room, ensuring you’re unharmed before letting out a sigh and collapsing on the edge of the cot.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he chides, reaching out to tug you onto his lap. His strong arms envelop you, cradling you close as he buries his face in your hair. “I thought…God, I thought I’d lost you.”
He rocks you gently, his breaths evening out as the adrenaline fades. After a moment, he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “We need to talk about what happened,” he says, his tone serious but not unkind. “But first, let’s get you cleaned up and sleep. You’ve been through enough for one night.”
You lean into his touch, body relaxing despite your racing heart and mind. “We’re safe?” you want to confirm.
Wooyoung nods solemnly, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm like he did in his car not even a month ago. “Yes, we’re safe. The body’s been taken care of, and the police won’t find anything linking us to the scene.”
He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “There might be some repercussions within our organisation, but I’ve got everything under control. You don’t need to worry about that right now.” Leaning in, he places a soft kiss on your temple. “All that matters is that you’re here with me, alive and unharmed. That’s all that matters.”
At his reassurance, your lips wobble, and that’s the only warning he gets before you burst into tears, sobs wracking your body. You can’t even form coherent words as the events of the day hit 
Wooyoung’s arms tighten around you as you break down, holding you close while you cry. He doesn’t try to comfort you with empty words or false promises; instead, he lets you pour out your emotions, offering only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the solid warmth of his body.
After a while, your sobs gradually subside, leaving you gasping for air and clinging to him like a lifeline. Wooyoung strokes your hair soothingly, his own eyes red-rimmed from the stress of the night.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Let it out, baby. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
He waits patiently until your breathing evens out, then gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. Since you’ve calmed down more, Wooyoung helps you stand and leads you to the small bathroom tucked away in the corner of the room. He starts running warm water in the shower, gesturing for you to undress and step into the stream.
As you wash away the grime and blood of the night, he keeps watch, his eyes never leaving you. When you emerge, dripping and shivering, he wraps you in a towel and dries you off himself, his hands gentle yet possessive.
After you’ve dried off properly and changed into a set of clean clothes, he brings you to the tiny kitchen area, making a warm meal for you. As you eat, he sits beside you, occasionally feeding you bites from his own plate when you’re too exhausted to manage to eat more than a few spoonfuls.
“‘M sorry,” you mumble, eyelids heavy as you fight to stay awake and chew mindlessly. “I fucked it up, didn’t I?”
Wooyoung sets his fork down, his expression melting into one of sadness as he reaches out to cup your cheek. “No, baby, you didn’t fuck it up. You did what needed to be done to protect yourself. I’m proud of you, doll.” He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pushing your bowl away. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. We both need rest after tonight.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his soft touch. “Okay,” you mumble, yawn escaping your mouth. “I’m sorry,” the apology leaves your mouth again without thinking, and Wooyoung chuckles with no amusement, the sound vibrating against your skin.
“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. Your safety always comes first, okay?” He stands, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. “Besides, you’re mine. Shouldn’t I be the one handling everything? Rest tonight, doll.”
Carrying you to the small bed, he lays you down gently and pulls the covers over your chilled form before climbing in beside you. His arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back against his warm chest. “I’ve got you, doll,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear and his heartbeat lulling you into a relaxed state. “Sleep now, and dream of better days.”
As your eyes shut and sleep claims you, Wooyoung remains vigilant, his eyes never fully closing as he watches over you. Despite the weariness etched on his face, his grip on you remains firm, a silent promise of protection.
Hours later, the first light of dawn creeps through the grimy windows, casting a pale glow over the room. Wooyoung’s hold on you loosens slightly as exhaustion finally overtakes him, and he drifts off into a fitful slumber, still cradling you close. The sounds of the waking city filter in, a distant reminder of the world beyond this cramped sanctuary. But for now, in the quiet moments before reality sets in, a fleeting peace is found.
-
A few hours later, you awaken, blinking away the sunlight shining into your eyes. Wooyoung stirs beside you, your minimal movements waking him up easily.
He sits up, stretching his arms above his head and yawning before turning to regard you with a serious expression. “We need to discuss what happened last night,” he begins, his voice calm yet authoritative. “You were targeted because of our closeness, which means our situation just got a little more complicated.”
There’s a long pause as Wooyoung studies your expression intently. “Doll. I need you to be truthful with me. Did you know that man…the one you had killed?” His gaze is piercing, searching for an answer in your face. In this moment, he looks every inch the powerful kingpin, but there’s a vulnerability lurking beneath the surface—a fear that you had betrayed him, turned your back on him.
Your hesitation gives him the answer he needs, and you flinch, waiting for his usual anger to snap, but there’s a long silence. When you crack your eyes open, Wooyoung’s gaze hasn’t left your face. He’s waiting for your explanation.
“He…he’s part of your rival’s gang. The one I was a part of.” Your voice grows more and more timid as you continue talking, but Wooyoung still does not make a noise. “I was selected to take the place of the old owner of the nightclub, and my job was to try and feed information. When you took favour to me, they thought it would be a good opportunity. But I changed my mind at that point. I didn’t want to betray you, and I swear I didn’t do anything against you for the last few years—not since I was allowed to attend meetings. I didn’t want to betray you because–” you cut yourself off.
A flicker of something you can’t place crosses Wooyoung’s features, replaced swiftly by his usual stoic mask, making you wonder if you were just seeing things. “Good,” he says simply, before leaning in and pinning you still with his gaze. “Because I’m not letting you go anymore, no matter what happens.”
He rises from the bed, extending a hand to help you up. “First things first, we need to get you some proper clothes and supplies. Can’t have my doll looking like that, now can we?”
The smirk on his face is playful, but there’s an underlying steel to his words. This is a man who always gets what he wants, and right now, he wants to see you looking the part he wants you to play—a symbol of his power and status, and the failed attempt to rattle his spot as kingpin.
“Come on, let’s get moving,” he urges, not letting you wonder about his unbothered attitude at your confession. You let him lead you towards the door with a firm grip on your hand, just happy he hasn’t killed you on the spot, and is returning to his confident self.
“Wooyoung…” you can’t help but to ask as he unlocks his car parked behind the old building “...I understand if you can’t trust me, so you don’t have to answer. But what was the business you were taking care of? It said in the note you left for me last night, and then when you came, you were hurt. What happened?”
Wooyoung slides into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a smooth hum. As he navigates through the early morning traffic, he glances at you sidelong, his expression unreadable. “I went to see my associates. And it got a little out of control. Nothing to worry about.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, a habit that betrays his agitation. “Last night was a warning, doll. Someone thinks they can challenge my authority and test loyalties. But they picked the wrong man.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw as he accelerates through a yellow light. “Rest assured, I’ll deal with them accordingly. But for now, let’s focus on getting you settled and comfortable. That’s my priority.”
There’s a subtle emphasis on the word ‘my’, a reminder that, despite the lie you had lived, Wooyoung will always put your needs first. At least, that’s how Wooyoung sees it.
As you arrive at a high-end boutique, Wooyoung parks the car and rounds the hood to open your door, offering his hand to assist you. Inside, he browses the racks with an expert eye, selecting pieces that showcase your body in the most flattering way possible.
“You look stunning, doll,” he murmurs, helping you into a sleek black dress that flows around your figure like second nature. The material drapes elegantly across your hips and thighs, the neckline plunging just enough to make his pulse quicken.
He steps back to admire his handiwork, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “Perfect.”
You smile slowly at him, finally feeling more and more secure in your relationship with him, the murder you committed pushed to the back of your mind. “As you wish it, I shall be whatever you desire.”
Wooyoung’s eyes darken at your words, a thrill of possession coursing through him. He steps closer, his large frame enveloping you as he trails his fingers down the side of your neck, leaving a tingling path in his wake.
“Indeed,” he rumbles, his breath hot against your ear. “My beautiful, obedient doll. Always dressed to please me, ready to fulfill her duties.” His hand slips lower, grazing the swell of your hip before settling on your thigh. The contact is electric, sending sparks dancing along your nerve endings.
“But remember, doll, you’re mine, body and soul. Don’t you ever forget that,” he continues, his voice low and menacing. With that, he releases you, stepping back to survey his work once more. “Now, shall we continue on, my dear?”
Your face flushed, you nod. “Yes, Wooyoung.” In moments like these, it’s easy to pretend that the two of you are a normal married couple, and it’s somewhat comforting. “Where to next?”
Wooyoung leans down to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Come, there’s a surprise for you. One to mark you as mine, truly and irrevocably.” He leads you to a jewelers, the woman behind the counter handing him a beautiful glass case.
Inside, a delicate necklace adorned with an intricate diamond pattern sits atop the velvet cloth. As he opens it and fastens it around your neck, his fingers press into your skin. Your breath catches in your throat. “Thank you, Wooyoung,” you gasp, quiet awe in your voice. You twist and lean in to peck his lips gently.
His lips curve into a smug smile as he accepts your kiss and your thanks, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Anytime, my doll,” he murmurs against your mouth, his own lips brushing yours with a hint of hunger.
For a moment, he lets himself indulge in the fantasy, imagining that his is indeed a relationship built on love and affection, rather than power plays and manipulation. But reality soon snaps him back to attention, and he steps away, clearing his throat. “Let’s finish up here and head back to the penthouse,” he suggests, his tone returning to its usual commanding cadence. “I have some business to attend to, and it requires you to be by my side.”
It’s an unspoken reminder that your safety depends on your compliance and proximity to him. He still hasn’t quite given you a reaction to all the truth you had revealed to him. You nod with no further comment, reaching out to grasp his hand quietly as he leads you through the district.
Wooyoung glances at your pensive face, his eyes roving over your features. “You look stunning, doll. Like the queen you are,” he compliments you quietly, the last soft moment he allows you. And with that, the spell is broken.
As you step out of the area, Wooyoung’s demeanour shifts, his gaze hardening as he scans the\ surroundings. His grip on your hand tightens, a silent warning.
“We need to move,” he growls, ushering you to the awaiting car. “I’ve received intel that someone may be tracking your movements. Can’t be too careful these days.”
Once inside the car, he checks his phone with a frown, clearly displeased by whatever message he’s reading. Without saying anything, he speeds off, carrying you both towards the towering skyscraper that serves as Wooyoung’s second lair. The tension in the air is palpable, a stark contrast to the earlier intimacy.
As the two of you walk into the opulent penthouse, Wooyoung’s presence commands every inch of space. The cityscape stretches out before you, a glittering canvas painted by the setting sun. “Welcome home, my doll,” he declares, gesturing grandly to the lavish interior. “Make yourself comfortable while I attend to some urgent matters.”
He strides purposefully towards his study, pausing to glance at you over his shoulder. “We’ll discuss your role in this mess later. For now, sit tight.”
With that, he disappears behind closed doors, leaving you alone amidst the splendor of his domain. The weight of his expectations settles upon you, a constant reminder of the delicate balance between your roles as lover and pawn in his game of power.
The couch is comfy, but it does nothing to soothe your nerves at Wooyoung’s words. As you lose yourself in swirling thoughts and the view outside of the penthouse, a gunshot rings out every so often, echoing through the halls even through closed doors. Each sharp bang makes you jump, although your expression remains neutral.
Under your facade, every shot reminds you of the night you wielded the gun and shot a man dead. As much as you’d never regret keeping yourself and Wooyoung safe, you can’t help but wonder what if you had never gone so far in the first place.
Hours pass, the sound of gunfire punctuating the otherwise tense silence. You try to occupy yourself, browsing through the expensive art books and designer magazines scattered across the coffee table, but your mind keeps drifting back towards the bloodstained memories you’ve worked so hard to bury.
Just as you’re starting to feel the strain, the study door swings open, and Wooyoung emerges, his suit immaculate despite the violence that likely transpired within. He approaches you with a calculated stride, his eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and something darker.
“Well, that took care of the problem. Our little rat won’t be squealing anymore.” He reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the brutal nature of his actions. “But enough about that.”
You can smell the iron of blood off him, but you hold your tongue, waiting for him to continue.
Wooyoung’s gaze lingers on your face, searching for any signs of distress or hesitation. When he finds none, a hint of relief flickers in his eyes before he turns to pour himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter on the sideboard.
He takes a seat beside you, his thigh pressing against yours and sending heat through your body. Your heart pounds in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, hands fisting the fabric of your dress, waiting for him to deliver your judgement on the way you had worked against him, even for just a short while.
Instead, you hear a low chuckle, fingers brushing against your chin as he tilts your head upwards. “Look at me, doll,” he commands. When you raise your eyes to meet his piercing gaze, he continues. “Back when you were talking about your past, you said you didn’t want to betray me, and you stopped short at the why. Finish what you were saying.”
There’s an unspoken understanding in his eyes—he knows what you were going to say, the depth of your affection for him. And yet, he wants to force you to articulate it, to acknowledge the bond that has grown stronger each day.
The room seems to shrink, the weight of his expectations pressing down on your shoulders. Confessing it could either solidify your place by his side, or only bring you more suffering, depending on what he chooses.
You bite your lip, tasting the sting of blood as you look back down at your hands quivering. “I…I love you,” you finally admit, your words quiet enough you swear Wooyoung will be able to hear your heart pounding. “I stupidly fell in love with you.”
For a long moment, the only sound is the steady thrum of the city outside and the ragged beat of your heart. Then, suddenly, Wooyoung reaches out and cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your trembling lip.
“I knew,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost don’t catch it. “I’ve known all along where you came from, your mission, and…and the change in you. I’ve seen it in your eyes for a while now. The way you look at me? It’s no secret.”
His fingers trail down to press his thumb against the junction of your neck, showcasing his power against you, and yet it is still soft, gentle, and reverent. “I have to admit, it pleases me. Having you by my side, loving me…it’s a treasure I hadn’t anticipated.” But beneath the tender words, a thread of hardness remains, a reminder of the ruthless world he rules. “Yet, as much as I enjoy keeping you close, you’ve lied to me. You’ve used me for your own gain, and you must be punished for that, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you deem as proper, I accept it,” you comply, ready for a sharp hit, or even a gunshot as well. You fight to keep your eyes on him, unable to read his expression.
A heavy silence hangs in the air, the seconds ticking by like hours. Then, unexpectedly, Wooyoung pulls you into his arms, holding you close against his chest.
“You’re mine, doll,” he declares, his voice a deep rumble against your ear. “Whatever happens to you, you belong to me. And I won’t let anyone, including who you were, threaten that.” His hands roam possessively over your body, a claim of ownership, a reminder of the twisted dynamic that binds you to him.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m absolving you of your sins,” he adds, his hot breath ghosting against your skin. “You’ll still face the consequences. Just perhaps not the ones you’ve feared.” He holds you tightly, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as if trying to burn away the shadows of your past. His hand drifts down to the small of your back, pressing you closer.
“You understand, my love? I’m offering you a reprieve, but you must learn to trust me completely. To obey without question, and you will be spared. I’m offering you a chance, and that is not something I give lightly.” Wooyoung leans in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “In return, I’ll ensure your safety…and pleasure.” The implication sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of apprehension and anticipation.
His grip tightens, as if to reinforce his claims, and yet also a silent allowance for your answer. Not that you need any time to deliberate. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against your ear, sending tingles down your spine. You nod, a silent agreement, your heart racing in your chest.
“Yes, Wooyoung,” you whisper, the name feeling like a prayer on your tongue. “I understand. I’ll follow your lead, as well as any and all decisions you make.”
You press yourself further into his embrace, craving the sense of security and belonging he offers. Even if it means surrendering parts of himself, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to stay by his side. “And…I trust you,” you add sincerely, the admission slipping out before you can stop it. The words hang in the air, a declaration of faith in the man who wields such power over you.
A satisfied smile plays on Wooyoung’s lips as he hears your whispered submission. He nuzzles your hair, inhaling your scent deeply.
“That’s my good doll,” he praises, his voice a low purr of approval. “You’re back in the game. Soon, you’ll be perfecting the role of my devoted wife.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and his wands begin to wander once more, tracing the contours of your body with a deliberate slowness.
“But first, let’s celebrate our new arrangement, shall we?” Without warning, he spins you to face him, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a flush creeping up your neck. “Get on your knees for me, doll. Show me the respect and obedience you’ve promised me,” he commands, his voice rough with desire.
Without hesitation, you quickly comply, falling to your knees in front of where he sits, looking up at Wooyoung with wide eyes and awaiting his next instruction. Wooyoung’s eyes follow the line of your body, a predatory glint in his eyes. He leans forward, forcing you to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.
“That’s a good doll,” he repeats, his voice dripping with approval. “Now, open wide. Show me how eager you are to please your husband.”
With that, he releases the button of his trousers, allowing them to sag slightly and reveal the impressive bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. You can practically taste the musky arousal, making your mouth water.
You can’t help but to shift forward until your face pressed against his clothed cock, mouthing at his underwear until he’s groaning at your ministrations. A low growl rips its way out of Wooyoung’s throat as he frees his thick cock from its confines. It slaps against his abdomen, obscene wet sounds making you hunger even more as you watch his precum bead out of the tip.
“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his hand wrapping around the base to guide himself into your waiting mouth. “Take it all, my doll. Every inch.”
As he pushes past your lips, you feel the heat of his flesh, the firmness of his cock stretching your mouth wide. The taste of him floods your mouth—salt and a little sweetness that makes your cunt clench and drip out more wetness to soak your underwear through.
Wooyoung begins to thrust slowly, savouring each vibration you send through his length as you moan and gag around his dick. Each stroke is deliberate, using your mouth for his pleasure and his pleasure only. And that in itself brings you into a heady mindset.
Your hands squeeze your thighs as you try to ignore the increasing wetness between your legs, focusing on sucking and licking as best as you can around his thick cock. His hips rock steadily, sliding in and out of your mouth with lewd sounds echoing through the penthouse. Groans and sighs spill out of his mouth, clearly enjoying your mouth working him to his orgasm.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his fingers tangling in your hair to guide your movements. “Take every bit of my cock. You look so perfect with it stuffed in your mouth, truly my perfect wife.”
The praise sends a thrill down your spine, even as you choke around his girth. It only serves to heighten your arousal, your cunt throbbing more and more as you swallow around him. You can feel his cock twitch, but before you can react, Wooyoung’s hands tangle in your hair. He holds your head down as he comes, shooting ropes of hot come down your throat with his head thrown back.
Eagerly, you swallow it all, licking the head of his length to coax every last drop out of him. Before you get very far, Wooyoung pulls himself free, his cock slick with saliva. “Stand up,” he orders, a smirk playing on his lips. You scramble to your feet, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and you can see his eyes roam over your body, drinking in the sight of you.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re worked up,” Wooyoung hums, reaching up to cup your breasts with his large hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples. “Look at you, so cute. All for me, aren’t they?” His tone is teasing as he pinches the flesh.
As he continues to toy with your tits, he snakes a hand down between your thighs, pressing against your underwear. “So wet too,” he notes approvingly, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to slide into your cunt easily. “You really are my eager wife, aren’t you?”
“Always, for you,” you gasp, hands reaching out to grasp his wrists. “Your wants are my wishes, please.” Your voice lilts into a whine, Wooyoung chuckling low in his throat at your desperate plea.
“That’s right, doll,” he agrees, his fingers pumping slowly in and out of you as his palm rubs circles on your sensitive clit. “You’ll give me everything I want, whenever I want it.”
The pressure applied to your clout becomes more insistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come for me, babydoll,” he demands, although he can’t keep the fondness out of his voice anymore. “God, you’re squeezing me so good with that greedy cunt of yours.”
The mix of praise and degradation sends you over the edge of pleasure. Shivers wrack through your body as you grind against his hand. “Wooyoung–” you gasp, legs trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut, moans cutting through your breaths.
As you tremble and quake through your orgasm, Wooyoung’s grip on your hips tightens, holding you still as he works his hand in you to help you ride out each wave. “That’s it, let go for me,” he hums, his voice silky smooth. “Give it all to me, doll.”
You lean forward, tears dropping out of your closed eyes and onto his thighs, Wooyoung easing his fingers from your pussy, licking your release off of the digits. “You taste even sweeter when you’re mine,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with possessiveness. He holds the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue pressing past your lips to claim every inch as his own.
Happily, you drop your mouth open to let him swallow every whimper and moan that tries to escape you as you chase his lips. Your core still aches but also craves more of him as your arms wrap around him.
Wooyoung breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with every breath as he gazes down at you with an intense passion. “I think it’s time we consummate this marriage,” he suggests, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as his hand trails down to squeeze your ass.
Before you can even react, he hoists you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to his bedroom. “We have a lot to discuss, my dear wife,” he hums, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a contrastingly gentle kiss to your cheek. “And I plan to thoroughly discuss every inch of your body.”
He pushes open the door and stalks towards the bed, his strides long and purposeful. Deftly, he drops you onto the soft bed, crawling over until he looms over you with a confident smirk.
Your eyes don’t leave him as you reach up to stroke his cheek gently, pulling him into a soft kiss. “I love you,” you can’t help but to say again, your gentle words lightening the hunger coursing through your veins.
At your whispered declaration, Wooyoung’s expression shifts, a flicker of something almost tender passing through his dark eyes as he captures your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands roam your body, mapping every dip and swell as if memorising you.
When he finally pulls back, his voice is heavy with emotion. “I know, YN. And I love you too. It might be in ways you don’t understand, but I do.” There’s sadness in his voice, an acknowledgement that his love is complex, and toxic. He leans down to trail kisses along your jaw and neck, teeth scraping at your delicate skin as he tries to take both your minds off of the seriousness. “Come on, let’s get comfortable. I want to show you exactly just how I love you.”
His hands slide up your dress, his calloused palms gliding over the expanse of your stomach as he lifts the garment over your head. You shiver as the cool air hits your body, goosebumps littering you.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the side of your breast, sending a shiver through your veins. With a fluid motion, he flips your positions, drawing you close to sit in his lap. His hands settle on your hips, guiding you down to grind against his hardening cock.
“Ride me, doll,” he commands, his eyes burning with desire. “Show me how much you want my touch.”
Carefully, you reach down and grasp his hard length, letting the head push into you slowly. A broken moan leaves your mouth as you sink down more and more.
Wooyoung grunts, his hands gripping your hips as you envelop his thick length, your cunt gripping him like a velvet vice. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses, his hands digging into your flesh as he helps guide you down further, sheathing himself fully inside you.
For a long moment, he simply savours the sensation of being buried to the hilt in your warm folds. Then, with a sudden thrust, he rocks you against him, setting a brutal pace that has you bounding on his cock with a needy cry. “There we are, doll, take it all,” he groans, his lips pulling into a fierce grin. “You were made for me, wife. This cunt is just for me, right?”
You bite your lips, trying to quieten your moans as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you drop your head into the crook of his neck, pulling him even closer.
At your movements, Wooyoung chuckles, his hips snapping upwards in a relentless rhythm. “Such a good doll, taking all of me like this,” he hums, his voice low in his throat.
One hand slides up your back to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the slender column of your neck. He latches onto the tender skin, biting and sucking marks into your flesh as he pounds into you with increasing ferocity. “You’re mine, doll,” he growls against your throat, his words punctuated by the lewd sounds of his hips meeting your ass. “Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
“I’m yours,” you repeat dumbly, eyes rolling back in your head. “Wooyoung, please…”
Wooyoung’s grip on your hair tightens as he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you,” he prompts, his voice a seductive purr. He slows his thrusts slightly, allowing you to feel every inch of his thick cock as he grinds against you. “Or maybe you just need to come undone on my dick, screaming my name?”
His free hand trails down to tease your sensitive clit, circling the bud with maddening slowness. The stimulation is nearly too much to bear, your core coiling tighter and tighter until you sink your teeth into his neck. “Please, Wooyoung,” you whimper, unable to string together a coherent sentence. “I need– I need–”
With a wicked smile and a nip to your ear, Wooyoung pinches your clit firmly, sending waves of pleasure through your nerves. “You need what, sweetheart?” he taunts, his fingers still mercilessly tormenting your aching cunt.
He picks up the pace once more, driving into you with ruthless abandon. The room fills with the symphony of your ragged breathing, his groans, and the obscene sounds of him working his cock deeper into you.
You throw your head back as you reach the cusp of pleasure again, body tensing as your cunt squeezes in a vice around him. “Fuck– Wooyoung–” you cry out before your core snaps and you come, creaming around his cock as you whine and whimper.
Wooyoung’s control slips at the feel of your pussy clamping down on him. With a feral moan, he buries himself to the hilt and holds you down on his cock, the length of it pulsating as he fills you with enough come that it bubbles out of your conjoined bodies.
“Fuck, take it all,” he hisses, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out his climax. His fingers dig into your hips and thighs, marking you with crescent shapes as he buries his face in your hair.
As the waves of pleasure ebb, he collapses back onto the bed, dragging you down with him to nestle against his chest. His heart thunders against your ear as he strokes your hair soothingly, a rare display of tenderness from the usually dominant man.
“That’s it, doll,” Wooyoung continues to pet your hair softly, his breathing gradually evening out and his heart slowing to a lull. “Just relax now. Let me hold you, my wife.”
Despite the lingering ache between your thighs, his cock softening inside of you, you find yourself relaxing in his embrace, his warm body surrounding you. After a while, he tilts your chin up to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss, his tongue sweeping across the seam of your mouth to taste the remnants of your passion. When he finally breaks away, his gaze is almost affectionate.
“Come on, doll, let’s get cleaned up,” he says, although there’s no real conviction behind his words.
You press your lips against his again, enjoying the soft domesticity of this. “Let’s stay like this for just a little longer, please,” you ask, voice tinged with timidness as if scared he’ll leave again.
Wooyoung’s expression turns thoughtful at your request, a small furrow appearing between his brows. For a long moment, he simply looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your emotions. Then, with a subtle nod, he enfolds you more securely in his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from the world.
“Alright, doll,” he agrees quietly. “Just a little longer. We’ve got all night, after all.”
He presses another tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if savouring the simple intimacy of the gesture. In this moment, the ruthless kingpin seems to fade away, replaced by a man who craves connection, however fleeting or unconventional. Time seems to stand still as you both bask in the afterglow, the world outside your intimate bubble fading into insignificance. It’s a fleeting reprieve from the harsh realities of their lives, but one they cling to desperately, savouring the precious few moments of tranquility before the storm inevitably returns.
-
“Doll, come here.” You can hear Wooyoung’s voice from across the apartment, his tone low and commanding. It leaves no room for disagreement, so you quickly slip out of the bedroom where you were going over the financial reports of your club. 
Wooyoung stands in the living room, arms crossed and face guarded. “It’s time for your punishment. Come with me.” You nod quickly, body tensing. It’s been weeks since you admitted your feelings, and Wooyoung had made no move to punish you for the disloyalty. Now, it seems he has finally decided on a fitting end.
Without waiting for a response, Wooyoung turns and strides out of the apartment, expecting you to follow closely behind. He leads you to a nondescript car, different from his usual automobile, the interior far more luxurious than the exterior would suggest.
He opens the passenger door for you, his expression still unreadable. “Get in,” he orders curtly, not offering any further explanation. You quickly follow suit, and Wooyoung walks around the car to get into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and starting the trip.
The cityscape blurs in the windows, an uncomfortable silence settling uncomfortably over the car. After a few tense minutes, Wooyoung finally speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. “Doll, whatever comes, I want you to know this isn’t a reflection of how I feel about you. This is a necessity for you to understand I can’t let anyone cross me.” He glances at you sideways.
It takes you a moment to realise he’s waiting for an answer, and you quickly nod. “Of course, Wooyoung, I understand.” Your voice sounds quiet and foreign even to yourself, but your words are true.
Wooyoung’s jaw clenches at your obedient response, a flicker of something akin to pride crossing his features. He reaches over to squeeze your thigh reassuringly, his touch firm yet gentle.
“You’re smart, doll. That’s why I chose you,” he hums, his voice taking on a tone of affection. “Now, just sit back and relax for now. We’ll be there soon.”
As promised, you arrive at your destination in a short while—a seedy, rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town. Wooyoung parks the car and exits, motioning for you to join him. He leads you through the dark halls to a room, akin to a dungeon. The heavy wooden door creaks shut behind you both, enveloping you in an atmosphere of dark anticipation.
Once inside, he produces a dark cloth, wrapping it around your wrists and binding them in front of you. You twitch, wanting to bat his hands away, but you hold back. When he finishes, he steps back, his piercing gaze raking over your form appraisingly. “I’ll strip you,” he orders, his voice devoid of emotion. “Then I want you on your knees when I return.”
Without waiting for a response, he quickly rips your dress off of you and exits the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts. The cool air feels thick with tension, each second ticking by agonisingly slow as you hastily comply with his demands.
After what feels like hours, but is probably only ten minutes, the door swings open once more, and you register Wooyoung’s breathing before you even see him as he stands in the threshold. It takes you another moment to realise he’s got a heavy bag slung over his shoulder.
Before you can even question what’s in it, Wooyoung throws it to the ground in front of me, and the bag lets out a muffled grunt. You recoil as you realise there’s a human being in there. “Wooyoung–” you start to talk, but Wooyoung shakes his head and you snap your mouth shut.
“I don’t think dolls can speak, can they?”
As soon as you nod shallowly, Wooyoung reaches out and undoes the bag, pulling the person out roughly. It takes you a moment to register, but when you see it’s your old boss, Wooyoung’s rival, you can’t keep the sharp gasp from exiting your mouth. He’s got a black eye and a busted nose, but he’s awake, shifting uncomfortably.
“Say hello, doll,” Wooyoung hums, his voice light but dangerous. “Park here wants to apologise, right?”
He kicks his rival in the ribs, a glint in his eye that can be seen even in the darkness. You can see the figure of Beomjun scramble to his knees, a strong contrast to the terrifying leader you once knew. “I’m sorry,” he repeats what is a clear script, his voice tense and teeth gritted, “for using what wasn’t mine. Wooyoung’s property is not to be touched.”
You can hardly keep your eyes off the grovelling figure, so you don’t notice when Wooyoung approaches you until he presses a cool metal object in your hand. A gun lays in your hand, and your hands shift to hold it properly automatically. “Shoot him,” Wooyoung’s voice rings clear, his mock whisper meant to be heard by Beomjun.
“Wait, please, you said you wouldn’t–” Beomjun’s words dissolve into whimpers and sobs. You never thought you’d see such a strong leader in the black market appear so…pathetic. “I won’t bother you anymore, I’ll leave YN alone, please– let me live– I’ll give you all my assets–”
Wooyoung clicks his tongue. “Either way, I’ll get all of your offers, Park. Your incentives are nothing but dust.” He leans forward to brush his lips against your ear. “Shoot him, doll. Show me that you put all your trust in me, now. He is nothing to you.”
His hand moves to your waist, and the other one lifts your arm that’s holding the gun until it’s aimed at him. Although you hesitate just a moment, San’s words wind around your mind like a snake, and your finger twitches on the trigger.
You don’t even register the sound of the gunshot as Beomjun’s next plea is caught in his throat and he collapses against the concrete, eyes open wide and blood pooling around his body. You can hardly think as Wooyoung presses a chaste kiss to your cheekbone, taking the gun out of your hands and shoving it in his waistband before leading you to a small sink in the corner of the room, where he wets a paper towel to clean the specks of blood that landed on you.
As he wipes gently, he leans in close, lips pressing against your temple. “Remember, doll, my patience has limits. Don’t ever test them again.” With that warning, he brings you to a different room, where it’s decorated simply with a bed and nothing else. “Come, sit on my lap,” Wooyoung commands, his voice strangely gentle.
Carefully, you follow his direction until you’re nested up against his chest. You can feel his boner through his slacks, curious as to where this is headed. Before you even have time to gasp, Wooyoung flips your skirt up and pushes aside your underwear before pressing his fingers into you.
He’s not gentle by any means, but the roughness only brings you pleasure as tears fill your eyes. You’re sure the wetness trickling down your cheeks only makes him hard, and you can feel it beneath you as well.
“Are you going to try to betray me again, wife?” Wooyoung asks, the pet name spoken without affection, although you know it’s hidden under the punishment you deserve.
You quickly shake your head, eyes wide. Killing someone still has you shaken up, but you’re in no mood to piss Wooyoung off ever again, and you want to enjoy the pleasure of his fingers. “No, Wooyoung, husband, I promise–”
Your quick response and lilt of a whine in your voice gives Wooyoung pause, his fingers slowing. “Good doll,” he croons, leaning in to give you a proper kiss, gentle and loving despite his rough treatment earlier. “You’re so pretty and perfect for me, let’s keep it that way.”
The gentle touch of his lips has you whining and twitching your hips, and you can feel the gun tucked away pressing against your thigh. The thought of it has you whining, and you must be easier to read than you think, your eyes flickering down to where it sits, because Wooyoung chuckles and reaches down to pull it out.
“Look at you, so dirty, wife,” Wooyoung preeens, pressing the barrel against your thigh and dragging it up until it’s hooked through the gifted necklace and pressing against your chin. “Begging for my cock, begging for my gun. Aren’t you a pretty picture for me? So pliable.”
You whine, nodding eagerly even as the gun knocks against your chin. “Please,” you gasp out, hips grinding against his hand even without his prompting.
Your begging only makes Wooyoung’s smile wider as he moves the gun until it’s pushing your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. “Did I tell you to speak, doll?” he grits out, hand stilling his movement. “Be a good doll and open your mouth for me.”
When your mouth drops open almost immediately, a delighted chuckle leaves Wooyoung’s throat at your eagerness. Without saying a word, he pushes the tip of the gun into your mouth, forcing you to taste the metallic tang of the barrel.
Your cunt leaks around Wooyoung’s fingers, your eyes glazing over as your mind drifts away and all you want to do is please. The gun doesn’t push too far past your teeth, not like Wooyoung’s cock would, and you lick and suck at it gently as you rock slowly against Wooyoung.
The amusement in Wooyoung’s eyes only increases as he reaches down to unfasten his pants, pulling his rock-hard cock out. “Come on, baby, ride me,” he commands, pushing your hips up until his cock aligns with your cunt. “Show me how much you want to be used.”
With the gun still in your mouth, you drop down, his length spearing into you until you whine around the metal. Saliva drips out of your mouth and down your throat, pooling in your collarbones and slicking up your breasts. Your eyes roll back as you start a slow pace, bouncing up and down as best as you can.
Wooyoung’s hang grabs your hip tight enough to leave bruises, pushing you down to take him even deeper. The whine you let out is cut short as he slams his hips up into you, fucking you with wild abandon.
You can hardly feel anything except searing pleasure as he thrusts into you, the gun now resting in your mouth too far gone to continue sucking on it. But then Wooyoung leans in closer, nose brushing against your ear. “The safety’s off.”
It’s a lie, a bald-faced lie. You saw him lock it before sliding it into its holster. You know that it won’t shoot, the trigger wouldn’t even budge. And yet, the idea of it makes you groan around the barrel, cunt spasming as you come around Wooyoung’s cock, squeezing it so tight your core aches.
Wooyoung gasps at the feeling, pulling the gun out of your mouth and tossing it to the side as he pulls you closer into a bruising kiss, teeth scraping at your lips. “Fuck–” he moans into your mouth “–you fucking slut. You love having a gun in your mouth and a cock up your pussy? Maybe next time I’ll shove it up your cunt while I fuck your ass, such a perfect dumb whore.”
The kisses he litters on your lips betray his harsh words, and he comes with a groan, cock twitching as his hands grope your tits roughly. You’re limp, leaning against you as he uses you for his own pleasure. He grinds into as you pant against his collarbone, drawing a few more weak drops of come out of his cock.
As you lay against his chest, Wooyoung chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “You know,” he hums, “a punishment isn’t supposed to be so pleasurable for you. But I’ll let it slide this time.”
There’s no way you can register his words properly, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he lays you down and lets you regain your mind and energy. Your eyes flutter shut as he strokes your hair softly, his gaze transfixed on you, a mix of possessiveness and adoration flickering in his eyes. “Rest now, and we’ll talk later,” Wooyoung hums more to himself than anything else. For now, he’ll enjoy the calm of this moment.
-
The ride home is silent, the only sound is the hum of the engine and your ragged breathing as you try to grasp what just happened. You don’t know what to say or do, hands grasped together as you try to wrap your head around the events of today. After shooting Beomjun’s lackey, it never occurred to you that it might have to happen again, much less that it would be Beomjun himself. But something in you burns at the power you held over the gang leader.
Upon returning to the penthouse, Wooyoung ushers you inside, his demeanour softening slightly as he removes his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He glances over at you, noticing your conflicting expressions, and he sighs through his nose.
“Doll, you okay? It was intense, but you needed to understand the world I live in, through its entirety.” He pads over to you, closing the distance, reaching out to pry your fingers apart and weave his own through yours. “It’s late…let’s get some rest. I want to hold you.”
He’s trying to divert the topic, and you grasp at it, following him like a sheep led to slaughter, letting him gently change you into pyjamas. He even brushes your teeth, treating you like you’re fragile and may break at any moment. When he slides into bed, he pulls you alongside, wrapping his arms around you.
As you settle into the warmth of his embrace, you let out a sigh and your body finally relaxes and sinks into the mattress. Despite the tumultuous relationship he provides you with, his presence still gives you a sense of safety and security.
“Wooyoung…I love you,” you breathe out, turning to press your face into his neck.
He stiffens slightly at your words, his hold on you tightening almost imperceptibly. For a long moment, he remains silent, processing your words. He’ll never be truly used to hearing you say it out loud, his line of work stunting his emotions. But, it still gives him warmth.
In low tones, he responds, “You’d better, doll. You’re mine, body and soul.” Despite his gruff words, there’s a hint of vulnerability, a glimpse of the man beneath the hardened kingpin. He strokes your hair soothingly, his other hand tracing gentle patterns on your hip. “Sleep now, doll. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”
Despite the complexity of your relationship, you drift off easily, feeling a sense of belonging. For better or for worse, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. And one day, you’ll have him grovelling under you.
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daemour · 3 months ago
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MDNI
➳Pairing: mafia boss! Wooyoung x f! nightclub owner! Reader
➳Genre: Mafia au, angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff, smut, E for explicit
➳Summary: The line between hate and love is thin. You're aware of this, and yet you can't help but love Wooyoung, no matter how badly he treats you.
➳Word Count: 15017
➳Warnings: Violence, toxic behaviour from a romantic partner, guns, death, murder, minor injuries, Wooyoung can be read as yandere-he's extremely possessive, manipulation, language, coersion, sexual innuendos [smut warnings under cut]
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This was written for @sanjoongie's Year of the Villains: Year of the Snake collaboration! It was extremely fun to write for, despite all the emotion rollercoasters I went on (mostly of my own doing)
This is indeed a chonker of a fic, so I'd like to formally apologise >v< but please enjoy! It's got very dark themes, so please make sure to read the warnings amply!
A big thank you to @thelargefrye for helping me out with the plot!
➳Smut Warnings: Public touching (no intercourse), slight drunken sex (do not do this), some breast play, praise, degradation, dom/sub (Wooyoung dom, reader sub), unprotected (do not do this without prior discussion), oral (m), deepthroating, fingering (f), riding, !! UNDERNEGOTIATED GUN PLAY !! (do not do this)
➳Please Note: Some scenes will appear dubcon. In one, YN is tipsy, and in others, she has been in fear of Wooyoung prior. Please read at your own risk.
!! If I've missed any, please let me know !!
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“C’mere, doll,” Wooyoung purrs. His lips pull into a wicked smile he has reserved for you, devoid of any softness. His eyes glint as he rakes his gaze up and down your body, every bit the kingpin of the drug scene in his city.
You step forward, your heels clicking with every step you take. You don’t remember how you ended up in this position, starting as a measly nightclub owner. But you hadn’t realised your club ran right in the strip he controls, and one day you were late with rent.
When he came personally, infamous drug lord Jung Wooyoung, something about you just caught his favour. And you can’t refuse his favour, not unless you wanted your club burnt to the ground.
As you move to take a seat next to him, Wooyoung tsks, raising a hand. “Not there,” he instructs, and you hesitate, your false confidence wavering.
“Where would you like me to sit?” you ask, although you know what his answer is going to be.
A smirk plays on his lips as he takes notice of your hesitation, clearly amused by the way you’re trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “On my lap, doll,” he commands, patting his thigh expectantly. His eyes gleam with a predatory intensity, making it clear this isn’t a request but an order from the man who holds your livelihood in his hands.
The air seems to thicken with tension as he waits for you to comply, the weight of his dominance palpable. It’s a subtle reminder of just how much power he wields, and how helpless you are against it.
You hesitate ever so slightly before moving towards him, your movements stiff. As you carefully settle yourself on the edge of his knees, you cross your ankles to try and keep some semblance of your composure.
Wooyoung narrows his eyes, displeased with the minimal contact between you two. Before you can do anything else, he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against his chest, his fingers digging into your body.
“Now, that’s better,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear as he presses a light kiss to your temple. His hand slides up your side, splaying across your waist possessively. “You look even prettier when you’re squirming under my touch.”
Your eyes flick nervously towards the other crime bosses lining the table. Although none of them are as influential as Wooyoung, you still never would’ve expected to see them so close. As Wooyoung’s hands continue to roam your body, you try not to flinch or squirm so much, not willing to hear lewd comments or see the leering from the others.
“Your rings are cold,” you mutter in Wooyoung’s ear as you lean away from his touch ever so slightly. It’s a bid to get him to focus his attention elsewhere, although you know it’ll be in vain.
At your quiet comment, Wooyoung chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Oh, they’ll be warmed up soon enough,” he retorts, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is deliberate, meant to break your fragile attempts at appearing demure. “If you’re truly feeling chilly, maybe we should find a way to heat things up, no?”
With that, he pulls your head towards him, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss that leaves you breathless with no doubt about his intentions. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming it as his own.
Fidgeting, you turn your head to whisper to him, “There are men here…” You turn your eyes down, avoiding meeting his gaze.
“Let them watch, doll,” he purrs, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before shifting to the assembled men. “They all know who you belong to.” Despite his words, he does have business to attend to, and he reins in his affection, though his hands still wander your body possessively.
As the meeting progresses, as much as you try to pay attention, he leans in to murmur something in your ear, reminding both you and everyone else that you’re his plaything.
When a particularly heated discussion arises, Wooyoung’s grip on your thigh tenses, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin in a twisted comfort. It’s a silent message—stay close, stay quiet, and remember your place in this world.
You keep your eyes trained on the wall, although you can still feel the stares of everyone on your body. Wooyoung’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. The unspoken warning is clear; keep your eyes and hands to yourself, lest he shows exactly why he’s the kingpin.
As the meeting winds down, Wooyoung rises to his feet, pulling you up with him. He keeps a firm hold on your waist, guiding you through the crowded room, the men parting for him. Once outside, he releases you abruptly, stepping back to light a cigarette.
“You did well tonight, doll,” he remarks, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Remember, you’re mine to flaunt or hide, whenever I please.” With that, he turns to leave, expecting you to follow without question.
Before you can move to follow, a hand grabs your wrists and yanks you back. You come face to face with a face you’ve seen on papers Wooyoung leaves out rarely—an up and coming drug lord, one new enough to not realise exactly how damning it can be to cross Wooyoung. You quickly yank your arm out of his grip, holding back from striking the man in his neck.  “Now, hold on,” he grins like a cat waiting to swallow a bird. “Why don’t we share?”
Wooyoung’s eyes narrow to slits as he spins around, his expression deadly calm. “Sharing isn’t exactly my style,” he drawls, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Especially when it comes to what’s mine.”
His gaze flickers to the man holding you captive, a silent threat hanging in the air. After a tense moment, you’re released, the man stepping back with a sheepish grin.
“I was just joking, kingpin. No need to get testy,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
Wooyoung watches him for another beat before nodding curtly. “See that you keep it that way,” he warns before turning back to you. “Let’s go, doll. We have business to attend to.”
As we start to leave again, the man mutters under his breath, apparently just wishing for death, “Why bring your plaything along if we can’t use it? Might as well ask us to lick your ass.”
Unfortunately for him, Wooyoung’s hearing is sharp.
His expression darkens further at his subordinate’s crude remark, his grip on your arm tightening almost painfully. “You want a piece of my action, huh?” he sneers, spinning to face the insolent man once more.
Before you can even react, Wooyoung’s fist connects with the lord’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. The sound of cracking bone echoes as he delivers a vicious kick to his ribs, pinning him beneath his boot.
“You forget your place, fool,” Wooyoung snaps, his face contorting with fury. “My ‘plaything’ is off-limits to every last one of you. Touch her again, and you’ll wish for death before you even have time to blink.”
With a final, brutal stop, Wooyoung lends down and presses the butt of his cigarette to the lord’s forehead, branding him with shame before flicking the ashes onto the floor and straightening up.
“Apologies for the interruption, doll. Let’s get out of here before someone else decides to try me,” he hums, his voice softening until it’s almost unrecognisable.
He leads you away from the scene, his pace quick and purposeful. The silence is heavy, the tension from before still simmering in the air. As you reach his car parked a block away, Wooyoung finally speaks, his voice low and measured. “That was a mistake, letting him get under my skin like that. But you saw how quickly I dealt with him, right? Don’t worry, no one touches you without my permission.” He glances at you sidelong, his eyes intense.
You nod shakily, legs trembling from the biting winter wind. “I know…I just wish you wouldn’t lose your temper like that,” you mutter. His bursts of anger always scare you, but Wooyoung’s still riled up and your timing was wrong.
His grip on your elbow tightens, his knuckles whitening as he pulls you closer. “You think I enjoy losing control?” he snarls, lips curling. “I do it to protect what’s mine, including you. It’s my responsibility as the kingpin. How do you think you’ve remained safe? If you can’t handle that, maybe you should find somewhere else to be.” There’s a challenge in his tone, daring you to defy him.
You stumble a little, heels slipping in the ice as you shake your head quickly. You can’t afford to lose his favour. “I meant nothing of it,” you squeak out, shivering at both his intense stare and the wind blowing through your bones. You regret forgoing a coat. “I’m just worried for you.”
Wooyoung heaves a sigh, his expression softening slightly at your words, some of the aggression draining from his stance. He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your chilled skin. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Just focus on staying by my side, and let me handle the rest. You care too much about people, with disregard for yourself.” Oh, how false his words are.
He steps closer, enveloping you in his warmth as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, get in the car and warm up. We need to head home to get you out of the cold.” He guides you forward, his tone reassuring, but there’s an underlying edge that suggests he won’t tolerate any further dissent.
You try to keep yourself from tripping as you hurry forward to slide into the passenger seat. Your face is warm from his touch, but your heart is twisted at his sweet words. The back-and-forth of his actions always confused you, and today is no exception. A constant question in your mind is why he keeps you around.
As Wooyoung slips into the driver’s seat, he pauses for a moment, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.
“Get comfortable, doll. We’ve got a long ride to the apartment,” he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the air.
Once you’re settled and the car is heated up, he pulls out of the parking spot, merging seamlessly into the late-night traffic. The silence between you stretches, punctuated only by the hum of the tires and the occasional blare of a horn.
Your hand twitches as you debate whether to indulge yourself and reach out to hold his hand resting on the console. It’s not wise to entangle yourself further into his web, but as much as you know you shouldn’t, you crave his touch as well.
Wooyoung notices your hesitation, his piercing gaze flickering to your hand before returning to the road. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth as he senses your inner turmoil.
“After all these months, you still can’t decide whether to bite or run, hmm?” he muses, his tone laced with amusement and a hint of something else you can’t place. “It’s cute, really.”
Without looking away from the road, he lifts his free hand, extending his fingers invitingly. “Come on, doll. Go ahead.”
Tentatively, you reach out to interlock your fingers with his, enjoying the warmth his hand brings to you. As soon as your hands connect, Wooyoung’s thumb begins to rub gentle circles, applying gentle pressure. “There you are, doll. Just relax,” he coos, his voice dripping with honeyed persuasion.
His touch sends a shiver down your spine, the sensation both soothing and electrifying. You can’t help but lean into his side, craving more of his comforting heat.
As the miles fly by, Wooyoung continues to play with your hand, his caresses gradually becoming bolder. His fingers dance across your palm, tracing intricate patterns that leave goosebumps in their wake.
Despite the intimacy of the gesture, there’s always a quiet reminder in the back of your mind that he’s a dangerous man, and that in his world, you belong to him. Both body and soul.
-
Weeks pass, and the nightclub is hosting a private party for Wooyoung’s closest associates. Instead of attending as an owner, you’re Wooyoung’s guest. It’s almost embarrassing to be seen as this by your employees, but there’s enough liquor in your stomach that it doesn’t bother you as much as it should.
Wooyoung stands beside you, his arm slung casually around your shoulders as he surveys the crowded room. The dim lighting casts a flattering glow on his features, making him look every inch the powerful kingpin he is.
You’re doing great, doll. The place looks amazing tonight,” he praises, his lips curling into a smile. “My boys are enjoying themselves.”
He nods towards a group of suited men, their clothing a stark contrast to the colourful lights and their wives’ pretty dresses. They’re clearly mafia men, and the way they watch the room with calculating gazes makes it clear they’re always on high alert.
Wooyoung leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “And don’t forget, you’re my doll tonight. So behave yourself and make sure everyone knows it.”
You nod happily, the alcohol in your system making you more responsive to his commands. Although you usually do end up bending to his will, there’s always pushback at first. Tonight, however, you’re content with being a good doll.
Wooyoung smiles fondly, chuckling low in his throat as he pulls you closer. “That’s more like it, sweetheart. I like seeing you happy and compliant,” he purrs, his fingers trailing lightly down your arm.
As the night wears on, Wooyoung keeps a possessive grip on you, ensuring everyone present knows you’re his. He introduces you to his associates as his “wife”, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a casual ease that makes your stomach flutter.
When a particularly bold associate approaches, thinking he can steal your attention, Wooyoung’s reaction is swift and decisive. He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him with an eyebrow raised and a sharp statement on his tongue. “Hands off. She’s mine.”
The man backs off, and Wooyoung turns his attention back to you, a smug grin playing on his lips. “See, doll? No need to worry, or fight for yourself. Just remember, I’m always going to protect you.”
He guides you towards the bar, ordering another round of drinks for you. As the bartender prepares the cocktails, Wooyoung’s hand finds its way to your hip, squeezing gently. “It’s a successful party,” he informs you, his tone businesslike despite the gleam in his eye. “But after this, we’ll celebrate in style…privately.”
His words leave no room for argument, not that you want to. He’s been in such a good mood since the last investment meeting with the other mafia families, and you’d like to try and take advantage of this rare occasion.
You nod agreeable, face flushed warm as you lean in to press your cheek against his. “Okay,” you hum, a slur to your words. “Want me to clear a room here or go back to th’ apartment?”
Wooyoung’s expression morphs into a quiet amusement at your state, a glint sparking in his eyes. “Leave the club to my people. We’ll head back to the penthouse,” he instructs, his voice low and husky.
As he steers you towards the exit, Wooyoung’s hand never leaves your lower back, guiding you with a firm yet gentle touch. Once outside, he flags down a waiting limousine and helps you inside before sliding in beside you.
During the short ride, the tension between you builds, the air thick with unspoken desires. As soon as the car pulls up to the building, Wooyoung opens the door and assists you out, his strong arms wrapping around you to support your weight.
Inside the lavish penthouse, he hands you a glass of water, sobering you up a little more before leading you straight to the bedroom, closing the door behind you with a resolute click.
You smile dopily at him, the alcohol flushing itself out of your system but the high of a party still lingering in your bones. Wooyoung’s gaze rakes over your dishevelled appearance, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Looks like someone had a bit too much fun tonight,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement.
He starts to undress you slowly, his fingers deftly working to free yourself of the dress. As the fabric falls away, revealing your body, he lets out a low whistle of approval.
“You look delicious like this doll,” he murmurs, his hands skimming your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. “All pretty and pouting for me.”
With deliberate slowness, he peels off his own clothes exposing his chiseled physique to your eager gaze. Once naked, he pulls you into his arms, pressing his hardening length against your lower stomach as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss.
Happily, you let your mouth drop open for him to take from, whining quietly as your hands tug lightly at his long hair. He groans into the kiss, his tongue diving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. As he deepens the kiss, he walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed, before gently lowering you into the plush mattress.
Straddling your hips, he breaks the kiss just long enough to trail his lips along your jawline and down the column of your throat. “I’ve wanted you all night, baby,” he admits, his hot breath fanning over your skin.
His hands roam your body, mapping out every inch of you with a reverent touch. His cups your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, coaxing needy moans from your parted lips. His touch is gentle, and you crave it.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” Wooyoung demands, his voice rough with desire. “Tell me you’re mine, completely and utterly.”
“I’m yours, completely and utterly,” you parrot, before mirroring his title for you at the party. “Please, ‘husband’. I want you so bad, Wooyoung.”
A triumphant smirk plays on Wooyoung’s lips as he hears your plea. “Good girl,” he praises, his words tinged with dominance. “Now, be a good wife and spread those pretty legs for me.”
As soon as you do so, he settles between your thighs, the tip of his erection teasing your slick entrance. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, mingling with your own feverish arousal.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t remember your own name,” he promises, his voice a husky growl. With that, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. A guttural moan escapes him as he savours the wet heat enveloping his cock.
You moan in tandem, back arching as he stretches you out so well. “Ah– please,” you whine.
Wooyoung sets a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust, smacking against your cunt with wet sounds. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his deep groans.
Leaning down, he captures your mouth in another bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you with increasing intensity. One of his large hands grips your thigh, using it as leverage to drive himself even deeper.
When he breaks the kiss, he nips and sucks at your neck, marking you as his. “Look at me, baby,” he commands, eyes blazing with hunger. “Watch me while I claim this pussy and mark it as mine.
His gaze locks onto your face, the raw lust in his expression sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
You slowly raise your eyes to meet his as your hips stutter and your eyes well up with tears from the please. “Wooyoung– ah–” you moan his name repeatedly like a prayer on your lips.
The sight of tears glistening in your eyes only spurs Wooyoung on, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. He leans down, his forehead resting against yours as he pants heavily.
“That’s right, baby. I’m your ‘husband’, your master,” he growls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his impending release. “This cunt belongs to me, understand?”
To emphasise his point, he reaches down and rubs tight circles over your clit, the added stimulation pushing you closer to the edge. His movements become more targeted, hitting that spot inside you with each snap of his hips. “Come for me, doll. Let me feel this sweet pussy clench around me,” he demands, his thumb pressing insistently against your sensitive bud.
It doesn’t take much before you come easily with a shriek, creaming around his cock as you squeeze around him like a vice. It’s almost like you’re sucking him in deeper, and it triggers his own release. Wooyoung throws his head back with a guttural moan as he presses his hips against yours impossibly close. His cock pulses and throbs, shooting thick ropes of searing hot come into your cunt.
“Fuck– take it all, you perfect, pretty wife,” he snarls, grinding against you to prolong your pleasure. Wave after wave of pleasure crash over him, his body shuddering with the aftershocks.
As he finally relaxes, he leans on top of you, careful to not crush you with his weight. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along your sweat-dampened skin between heavy pants. “Thank you, doll,” he murmurs, his voice still rough but a hint of gentleness in it.
You hum, turning in his arms to smile at him. The alcohol is almost out of your system now, and it’s been replaced with a warmth in your belly from his sweet treatment. Your hand moves to cup his cheek gently as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
“I wish you were like this all the time,” you hum, more to yourself than anything. Maybe it would’ve been easier to love him.
Wooyoung stiffens slightly at your words, a flicker of something—Guilt? Regret?—passing over his features before it’s quickly masked. He rolls off of you, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.
“You know I can’t be soft all the time, doll,” he says, his tone carefully neutral. “The world I live in, it requires a certain ruthlessness. But this…” he gestures between the two of you “this is real. You’re the only one who gets to see this side of me.”
His words shock you, a sincere admission of the feelings he hides. He turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Don’t ask for things you don’t fully understand, doll. My love may not be conventional, but it’s not false. I protect what’s mine, even if I have to do it in ways you don’t always like.”
You nod slowly, hurt flickering in your eyes, although it mixes with an understanding. “I know, Wooyoung. Just…grant it to me in private. Please.”
Wooyoung sighs deeply, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. After a moment of contemplation, he sits up and pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.
“Alright, doll. I’ll try,” he agrees softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “But you have to promise me something in return. Promise me you’ll never leave me, no matter what happens. Out there in that cruel world, you’re my only light in the darkness.”
His arms tighten around you possessively, as if afraid you might disappear. “I know I’m not an easy man to be with, but you’re stuck with me now. We’re bound together, for better or worse,” he states like it’s what makes the world go round, tilting your chin up with a finger to get you to meet his intense gaze.
You smile at him, eyes shining with an unspoken emotion. Although there are times you question his feelings, moments like these remind you just how much he truly does love you, in his own way. Guilt gnaws at your gut, but it mixes with the warmth of your misplaced love, and you lean up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll stay,” you murmur. “I’ll stay.”
Wooyoung returns the kiss with a tenderness that belies his usual rough exterior, pouring all his pent-up emotions into the gentle caress of his lips against yours. When he finally pulls away, his dark eyes are filled with a rare vulnerability.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with genuine gratitude and affection. “I know I don’t say it nearly enough, and I show it even less, but…I love you, doll. More than anything in my fucked up world.”
He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, his touch gentle. “Get some rest now, baby. Tomorrow’s a new day, and I want you well rested.” WIth that, he settles back against the pillows, pulling you flush against his side.
You curl into him, throwing an arm around him as you press your face into his neck. “I love you too. My love,” you murmur, as much as it pains you to admit.
A contented rumble emanates from Wooyoung’s chest as he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you close and enjoying your warmth. “That’s right, my sweet doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing purr. “Sleep now, and dream of a world where we love each other freely.”
Despite his tone’s roughness, there’s a tenderness in his words and actions, a loving protectiveness that you’ve craved for so long. You feel cherished, and as it overwhelms the sadness in your heart, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting weight of his arms around you.
As your breath evens out, Wooyoung remains awake, watching your face with a fierce devotion. His mind wanders to the enemies he must confront and the dangers that lurk in every shadow. But for now, in this quiet moment of peace, he allows himself to enjoy the feeling of having you by his side.
Gently, he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. “I’d do anything to keep you,” he vows under his breath, a claim over your heart. “Anything at all, to make you mine.”
With that thought, he closes his eyes, his dreams filled with visions of a future where you’re safe, and forever his perfect doll. A world where his darkness is gone and your love is pure.
-
When morning arrives, you roll over only to be met with an empty bed and a note on the bedside table.
‘Good morning, doll.
I had to take care of some business today, but don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, treat yourself and have a bath. We’ll have a busy evening ahead of us.
Wooyoung’
There’s a faint scent of his cologne lingering on the paper, a tangible reminder of his presence even though he’s not here with you. You can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation, wondering what pulled him away so suddenly. Nevertheless, you decide to follow his advice and indulge in a leisurely morning routine.
As much as your heart aches waking up alone, the bath relaxes you, and you fall fast asleep, sinking deeper into the water.
Hours pass unnoticed as you nap peacefully in the warm, fragrant bathwater. Each soft breath makes your body relax more and more as the sun starts to set.
Just as you begin to stir, a sudden commotion erupts downstairs, the cacophony of raised voices and scuffling feet jolting you awake. Startled, you sit up abruptly, sending water splashing over the edge of the tub. The cool air hits your damp skin, causing you to shiver involuntarily.
Concerned, you quickly dry off and slip into a robe, hurrying down the hall to investigate the source of the disturbance. As you reach the corner, a hulking figure emerges from the shadows, blocking your path.
The imposing man steps forward, revealing a bruised and bloody face, one that is vaguely familiar. He’s clearly been in a fight, and judging by the menacing glint in his eye, he’s far from finished.
“Well, well, well,” he sneers, his gaze raking over you with a lecherous hunger. “Looks like the boss’s little puppet is all grown up and ripe for the taking.”
His words spark panic in you, but before you can react, he lunges at you, grabbing a fistful of your robe and yanking you hard towards him. His hot breath fans your hair as he growls, “Seems Jung has been neglecting his duties. Time to show you what real men can do.”
You struggle against his iron grip, but he’s far stronger than you. You don’t want to go back, and you scream, “Wooyoung–” before stomping on the man’s foot and biting into his hand in a bid to get away.
When his grip loosens, you book it to the bedroom, diving for the loaded gun Wooyoung keeps in the bedside table.
Bloodied and enraged, the attacker gives chase, his heavy footsteps thundering down the hall as you frantically search for the gun. Just as your fingers close around the cold metal, he slams into the doorframe, leaning against it heavily.
“Foolish bitch,” he snarls, reaching out to grab at you once more but missing with his clumsy movement. “You think a little toy like that will save you? You belong back with us.”
His words confuse you, but you don’t falter, whirling around in a flash and aiming the gun at his head. “Stay back! I won’t hesitate to use this!”
The intruder scoffs, unfazed by the weapon. “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots. Go ahead, shoot me. It’ll just make the boss angrier. You’ve stalled for too long.”
Your finger twitches but you don’t shoot, not yet. Deep down, you realise what he’s talking about, and your arms shake, but your aim remains steady. “I’ll take Wooyoung’s wrath over returning,” you snap. “I’m his doll.”
The man’s smirk fathers for a split second at your declaration, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his battered features. He seems to weigh his options, calculating the risks and rewards.
“I’ll give you credit, sweetheart,” he says slowly. “You’ve got spirit. But that won’t save you from me, or the boss. And it certainly won’t save you from anyone who wants a piece of whatever Jung owns.”
He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his movements measured and menacing. “Now, either you hand over that gun and come with me willingly, or I’ll take it by force and make you regret ever double crossing me or the boss.”
As he advances, you find yourself backed against the wall, the gun still clutched in your white-knuckled hands. Your mind races, desperate for a solution, but the reality of your situation is grim.
Just as the man reaches out, you fire a bullet straight between his eyes. Blood splatters across the room as the intruder crumples to the ground, dead before he even hits the ground. The acrid smell of gunpowder fills the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood. And as the gunshot rings in your ears, the door crashes open to reveal Wooyoung, blood streaming down his face and his nose crooked, but alive.
For a long moment, Wooyoung stands frozen, his gaze locked on the lifeless body at your feet. Then, with a low growl, he stalks towards you, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness.
“What the fuck happened while I was gone?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Who sent this bastard?”
Before you can respond, he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. “And why the hell did you think you needed to defend yourself? You’re supposed to stay hidden and safe, not play hero with my fucking guns.” His grip tightens, a hint of fear staining the anger in his voice and gaze.
Your eyes dart between him and the body, the adrenaline wearing off and the weight of what you’ve done settling in your stomach. “I…I didn’t know where you were,” you try to explain, your voice sounding foreign even to yourself. “I killed a man. I killed him…I’m a murder.”
As you start to panic, your voice raises in pitch, hands shaking as you drop the gun. Your knees start to buckle. With a swift motion, Wooyoung catches you as you collapse, holding you upright against his broad chest. He strokes your hair soothingly, his touch gentle despite the turmoil raging in his eyes.
“It’s okay, baby,” he coos, his voice a stark contrast to the fury that had consumed him mere moments ago. “You didn’t murder anyone. This son of a bitch had it coming. You defended yourself and me.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as he tries to calm your frantic heartbeat. “I should’ve been here to protect you, or brought you with me. Instead, I left you vulnerable, and this is what happens.”
His own breathing grows ragged, the weight of what happened finally crushing him. “We need to get out of here, clean up this mess. Can you stand for me, doll? I need you strong right now.”
You scramble up, leaning against the wall to steady yourself. You can’t keep your stare off the body, even as Wooyoung is hurriedly stuffing a handful of belongings in a duffle bag. He tosses fabric—a dress—in your face. “Put it on. You’re still in just a robe. We don’t have time for anything else,” he commands.
You quickly follow his instruction even as your mind whirs. As you slip into the dress, Wooyoung’s eyes roam over your stiff and stilted movements, a mix of concern and possessiveness flashing across his features. Satisfied that you’re covered, he nods curtly and zips up the duffle bag.
“Let’s go,” he orders, gripping your wrist firmly and leading you out of the room and then the penthouse. The sound of sirens wail in the distance, growing louder with each passing second.
He hustles you through the darkened streets, keeping to the shadows as they navigate the labyrinthine alleys of the city. The cool night air does little to calm your racing heart, and you can feel the tension from Wooyoung radiating through his taut muscles.
After what feels like an eternity, he finally slows, guiding you into a nondescript building. It appears abandoned from the outside, but as Wooyoung ushers you inside, it becomes clear that it serves as a secret hideout. The space is sparse but well-equipped, with surveillance monitors lining one wall and a cache of weapons mounted on another.
Wooyoung sets the duffle bag down and turns to face you, his expression grave. “This is our safe house,” he explains, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s where we go when shit hits the fan.”
He steps closer, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realised were falling. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “That will never happen again. I swear it on my life.”
Wooyoung’s words hang heavy in the air, a promise forged in the heat of adrenaline and desperation. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck as if seeking solace in your warmth. For a long moment, he simply holds you, his breaths uneven and ragged against your skin. When he finally lifts his head, his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I need you to stay here, lock yourself in the back room until morning,” he instructs, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for disagreement. “I’ll deal with the aftermath of tonight, but you’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”
He brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “Rest, doll. I’ll be back before you know it.”
As he turns to leave, you can’t help yourself and reach out to take his wrist, a pleading look in your eyes. “Please promise me,” you beg. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
At your desperate plea, Wooyoung’s resolve falters. He looks down at your hands wrapped around your wrist, then back up at your tear streaked face. A pained expression crosses his features before he forces himself to nod.
“I promise, doll,” he vows, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ll come back to you, no matter what. You’re mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” With those words, he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his love, fear, and determination into the passionate embrace. When he finally breaks away, he presses a final, tender kiss to your forehead.
“I mean it,” he whispers fiercely. “Wait for me, and I’ll return to you.”
As soon as he exits with one last glance towards you, you quickly follow his instruction, locking yourself in the back bedroom and shoving a dresser in front of the door for good measure. While you wait for his return, your mind wanders back to the moment you shot the man, and a shiver runs down your spine.
Hours pass in tense silence, the only sounds being the distant hum of the city and the occasional creak of the old building settling around you. You pace the cramped confines of the room, your thoughts jumbled mess of fear, guilt, and anticipation.
The memory of pulling the trigger replays in your mind like a macabre filmstrip, each detail etched into your brain with painful clarity. The feel of the gun’s weight in your hand, the click of the safety disengaging, the sudden bloom of crimson as the bullet tore through flesh and bone…
A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shake off the haunting images. But they linger, refusing to be banished. Just as despair begins to creep in, you head the sounds of footsteps approaching, followed by the rattle of keys unlocking the door.
When it tries to open, but thuds against the dresser instead, you can practically see Wooyoung’s exasperated but fond expression in his voice. “Really, doll?”
You quickly rush over to shove the drawers away, thankful for a distraction from your spiralling thoughts. Wooyoung pushes past the now-cleared barrier, his face a mask of exhaustion and relief. The blood is still on his face, but his nose is set back into place, a bruise blooming over the mottled skin. He cans the room, ensuring you’re unharmed before letting out a sigh and collapsing on the edge of the cot.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he chides, reaching out to tug you onto his lap. His strong arms envelop you, cradling you close as he buries his face in your hair. “I thought…God, I thought I’d lost you.”
He rocks you gently, his breaths evening out as the adrenaline fades. After a moment, he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “We need to talk about what happened,” he says, his tone serious but not unkind. “But first, let’s get you cleaned up and sleep. You’ve been through enough for one night.”
You lean into his touch, body relaxing despite your racing heart and mind. “We’re safe?” you want to confirm.
Wooyoung nods solemnly, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm like he did in his car not even a month ago. “Yes, we’re safe. The body’s been taken care of, and the police won’t find anything linking us to the scene.”
He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “There might be some repercussions within our organisation, but I’ve got everything under control. You don’t need to worry about that right now.” Leaning in, he places a soft kiss on your temple. “All that matters is that you’re here with me, alive and unharmed. That’s all that matters.”
At his reassurance, your lips wobble, and that’s the only warning he gets before you burst into tears, sobs wracking your body. You can’t even form coherent words as the events of the day hit 
Wooyoung’s arms tighten around you as you break down, holding you close while you cry. He doesn’t try to comfort you with empty words or false promises; instead, he lets you pour out your emotions, offering only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the solid warmth of his body.
After a while, your sobs gradually subside, leaving you gasping for air and clinging to him like a lifeline. Wooyoung strokes your hair soothingly, his own eyes red-rimmed from the stress of the night.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Let it out, baby. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
He waits patiently until your breathing evens out, then gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. Since you’ve calmed down more, Wooyoung helps you stand and leads you to the small bathroom tucked away in the corner of the room. He starts running warm water in the shower, gesturing for you to undress and step into the stream.
As you wash away the grime and blood of the night, he keeps watch, his eyes never leaving you. When you emerge, dripping and shivering, he wraps you in a towel and dries you off himself, his hands gentle yet possessive.
After you’ve dried off properly and changed into a set of clean clothes, he brings you to the tiny kitchen area, making a warm meal for you. As you eat, he sits beside you, occasionally feeding you bites from his own plate when you’re too exhausted to manage to eat more than a few spoonfuls.
“‘M sorry,” you mumble, eyelids heavy as you fight to stay awake and chew mindlessly. “I fucked it up, didn’t I?”
Wooyoung sets his fork down, his expression melting into one of sadness as he reaches out to cup your cheek. “No, baby, you didn’t fuck it up. You did what needed to be done to protect yourself. I’m proud of you, doll.” He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pushing your bowl away. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. We both need rest after tonight.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his soft touch. “Okay,” you mumble, yawn escaping your mouth. “I’m sorry,” the apology leaves your mouth again without thinking, and Wooyoung chuckles with no amusement, the sound vibrating against your skin.
“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. Your safety always comes first, okay?” He stands, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. “Besides, you’re mine. Shouldn’t I be the one handling everything? Rest tonight, doll.”
Carrying you to the small bed, he lays you down gently and pulls the covers over your chilled form before climbing in beside you. His arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back against his warm chest. “I’ve got you, doll,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear and his heartbeat lulling you into a relaxed state. “Sleep now, and dream of better days.”
As your eyes shut and sleep claims you, Wooyoung remains vigilant, his eyes never fully closing as he watches over you. Despite the weariness etched on his face, his grip on you remains firm, a silent promise of protection.
Hours later, the first light of dawn creeps through the grimy windows, casting a pale glow over the room. Wooyoung’s hold on you loosens slightly as exhaustion finally overtakes him, and he drifts off into a fitful slumber, still cradling you close. The sounds of the waking city filter in, a distant reminder of the world beyond this cramped sanctuary. But for now, in the quiet moments before reality sets in, a fleeting peace is found.
-
A few hours later, you awaken, blinking away the sunlight shining into your eyes. Wooyoung stirs beside you, your minimal movements waking him up easily.
He sits up, stretching his arms above his head and yawning before turning to regard you with a serious expression. “We need to discuss what happened last night,” he begins, his voice calm yet authoritative. “You were targeted because of our closeness, which means our situation just got a little more complicated.”
There’s a long pause as Wooyoung studies your expression intently. “Doll. I need you to be truthful with me. Did you know that man…the one you had killed?” His gaze is piercing, searching for an answer in your face. In this moment, he looks every inch the powerful kingpin, but there’s a vulnerability lurking beneath the surface—a fear that you had betrayed him, turned your back on him.
Your hesitation gives him the answer he needs, and you flinch, waiting for his usual anger to snap, but there’s a long silence. When you crack your eyes open, Wooyoung’s gaze hasn’t left your face. He’s waiting for your explanation.
“He…he’s part of your rival’s gang. The one I was a part of.” Your voice grows more and more timid as you continue talking, but Wooyoung still does not make a noise. “I was selected to take the place of the old owner of the nightclub, and my job was to try and feed information. When you took favour to me, they thought it would be a good opportunity. But I changed my mind at that point. I didn’t want to betray you, and I swear I didn’t do anything against you for the last few years—not since I was allowed to attend meetings. I didn’t want to betray you because–” you cut yourself off.
A flicker of something you can’t place crosses Wooyoung’s features, replaced swiftly by his usual stoic mask, making you wonder if you were just seeing things. “Good,” he says simply, before leaning in and pinning you still with his gaze. “Because I’m not letting you go anymore, no matter what happens.”
He rises from the bed, extending a hand to help you up. “First things first, we need to get you some proper clothes and supplies. Can’t have my doll looking like that, now can we?”
The smirk on his face is playful, but there’s an underlying steel to his words. This is a man who always gets what he wants, and right now, he wants to see you looking the part he wants you to play—a symbol of his power and status, and the failed attempt to rattle his spot as kingpin.
“Come on, let’s get moving,” he urges, not letting you wonder about his unbothered attitude at your confession. You let him lead you towards the door with a firm grip on your hand, just happy he hasn’t killed you on the spot, and is returning to his confident self.
“Wooyoung…” you can’t help but to ask as he unlocks his car parked behind the old building “...I understand if you can’t trust me, so you don’t have to answer. But what was the business you were taking care of? It said in the note you left for me last night, and then when you came, you were hurt. What happened?”
Wooyoung slides into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a smooth hum. As he navigates through the early morning traffic, he glances at you sidelong, his expression unreadable. “I went to see my associates. And it got a little out of control. Nothing to worry about.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, a habit that betrays his agitation. “Last night was a warning, doll. Someone thinks they can challenge my authority and test loyalties. But they picked the wrong man.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw as he accelerates through a yellow light. “Rest assured, I’ll deal with them accordingly. But for now, let’s focus on getting you settled and comfortable. That’s my priority.”
There’s a subtle emphasis on the word ‘my’, a reminder that, despite the lie you had lived, Wooyoung will always put your needs first. At least, that’s how Wooyoung sees it.
As you arrive at a high-end boutique, Wooyoung parks the car and rounds the hood to open your door, offering his hand to assist you. Inside, he browses the racks with an expert eye, selecting pieces that showcase your body in the most flattering way possible.
“You look stunning, doll,” he murmurs, helping you into a sleek black dress that flows around your figure like second nature. The material drapes elegantly across your hips and thighs, the neckline plunging just enough to make his pulse quicken.
He steps back to admire his handiwork, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “Perfect.”
You smile slowly at him, finally feeling more and more secure in your relationship with him, the murder you committed pushed to the back of your mind. “As you wish it, I shall be whatever you desire.”
Wooyoung’s eyes darken at your words, a thrill of possession coursing through him. He steps closer, his large frame enveloping you as he trails his fingers down the side of your neck, leaving a tingling path in his wake.
“Indeed,” he rumbles, his breath hot against your ear. “My beautiful, obedient doll. Always dressed to please me, ready to fulfill her duties.” His hand slips lower, grazing the swell of your hip before settling on your thigh. The contact is electric, sending sparks dancing along your nerve endings.
“But remember, doll, you’re mine, body and soul. Don’t you ever forget that,” he continues, his voice low and menacing. With that, he releases you, stepping back to survey his work once more. “Now, shall we continue on, my dear?”
Your face flushed, you nod. “Yes, Wooyoung.” In moments like these, it’s easy to pretend that the two of you are a normal married couple, and it’s somewhat comforting. “Where to next?”
Wooyoung leans down to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Come, there’s a surprise for you. One to mark you as mine, truly and irrevocably.” He leads you to a jewelers, the woman behind the counter handing him a beautiful glass case.
Inside, a delicate necklace adorned with an intricate diamond pattern sits atop the velvet cloth. As he opens it and fastens it around your neck, his fingers press into your skin. Your breath catches in your throat. “Thank you, Wooyoung,” you gasp, quiet awe in your voice. You twist and lean in to peck his lips gently.
His lips curve into a smug smile as he accepts your kiss and your thanks, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Anytime, my doll,” he murmurs against your mouth, his own lips brushing yours with a hint of hunger.
For a moment, he lets himself indulge in the fantasy, imagining that his is indeed a relationship built on love and affection, rather than power plays and manipulation. But reality soon snaps him back to attention, and he steps away, clearing his throat. “Let’s finish up here and head back to the penthouse,” he suggests, his tone returning to its usual commanding cadence. “I have some business to attend to, and it requires you to be by my side.”
It’s an unspoken reminder that your safety depends on your compliance and proximity to him. He still hasn’t quite given you a reaction to all the truth you had revealed to him. You nod with no further comment, reaching out to grasp his hand quietly as he leads you through the district.
Wooyoung glances at your pensive face, his eyes roving over your features. “You look stunning, doll. Like the queen you are,” he compliments you quietly, the last soft moment he allows you. And with that, the spell is broken.
As you step out of the area, Wooyoung’s demeanour shifts, his gaze hardening as he scans the\ surroundings. His grip on your hand tightens, a silent warning.
“We need to move,” he growls, ushering you to the awaiting car. “I’ve received intel that someone may be tracking your movements. Can’t be too careful these days.”
Once inside the car, he checks his phone with a frown, clearly displeased by whatever message he’s reading. Without saying anything, he speeds off, carrying you both towards the towering skyscraper that serves as Wooyoung’s second lair. The tension in the air is palpable, a stark contrast to the earlier intimacy.
As the two of you walk into the opulent penthouse, Wooyoung’s presence commands every inch of space. The cityscape stretches out before you, a glittering canvas painted by the setting sun. “Welcome home, my doll,” he declares, gesturing grandly to the lavish interior. “Make yourself comfortable while I attend to some urgent matters.”
He strides purposefully towards his study, pausing to glance at you over his shoulder. “We’ll discuss your role in this mess later. For now, sit tight.”
With that, he disappears behind closed doors, leaving you alone amidst the splendor of his domain. The weight of his expectations settles upon you, a constant reminder of the delicate balance between your roles as lover and pawn in his game of power.
The couch is comfy, but it does nothing to soothe your nerves at Wooyoung’s words. As you lose yourself in swirling thoughts and the view outside of the penthouse, a gunshot rings out every so often, echoing through the halls even through closed doors. Each sharp bang makes you jump, although your expression remains neutral.
Under your facade, every shot reminds you of the night you wielded the gun and shot a man dead. As much as you’d never regret keeping yourself and Wooyoung safe, you can’t help but wonder what if you had never gone so far in the first place.
Hours pass, the sound of gunfire punctuating the otherwise tense silence. You try to occupy yourself, browsing through the expensive art books and designer magazines scattered across the coffee table, but your mind keeps drifting back towards the bloodstained memories you’ve worked so hard to bury.
Just as you’re starting to feel the strain, the study door swings open, and Wooyoung emerges, his suit immaculate despite the violence that likely transpired within. He approaches you with a calculated stride, his eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and something darker.
“Well, that took care of the problem. Our little rat won’t be squealing anymore.” He reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the brutal nature of his actions. “But enough about that.”
You can smell the iron of blood off him, but you hold your tongue, waiting for him to continue.
Wooyoung’s gaze lingers on your face, searching for any signs of distress or hesitation. When he finds none, a hint of relief flickers in his eyes before he turns to pour himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter on the sideboard.
He takes a seat beside you, his thigh pressing against yours and sending heat through your body. Your heart pounds in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, hands fisting the fabric of your dress, waiting for him to deliver your judgement on the way you had worked against him, even for just a short while.
Instead, you hear a low chuckle, fingers brushing against your chin as he tilts your head upwards. “Look at me, doll,” he commands. When you raise your eyes to meet his piercing gaze, he continues. “Back when you were talking about your past, you said you didn’t want to betray me, and you stopped short at the why. Finish what you were saying.”
There’s an unspoken understanding in his eyes—he knows what you were going to say, the depth of your affection for him. And yet, he wants to force you to articulate it, to acknowledge the bond that has grown stronger each day.
The room seems to shrink, the weight of his expectations pressing down on your shoulders. Confessing it could either solidify your place by his side, or only bring you more suffering, depending on what he chooses.
You bite your lip, tasting the sting of blood as you look back down at your hands quivering. “I…I love you,” you finally admit, your words quiet enough you swear Wooyoung will be able to hear your heart pounding. “I stupidly fell in love with you.”
For a long moment, the only sound is the steady thrum of the city outside and the ragged beat of your heart. Then, suddenly, Wooyoung reaches out and cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your trembling lip.
“I knew,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost don’t catch it. “I’ve known all along where you came from, your mission, and…and the change in you. I’ve seen it in your eyes for a while now. The way you look at me? It’s no secret.”
His fingers trail down to press his thumb against the junction of your neck, showcasing his power against you, and yet it is still soft, gentle, and reverent. “I have to admit, it pleases me. Having you by my side, loving me…it’s a treasure I hadn’t anticipated.” But beneath the tender words, a thread of hardness remains, a reminder of the ruthless world he rules. “Yet, as much as I enjoy keeping you close, you’ve lied to me. You’ve used me for your own gain, and you must be punished for that, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you deem as proper, I accept it,” you comply, ready for a sharp hit, or even a gunshot as well. You fight to keep your eyes on him, unable to read his expression.
A heavy silence hangs in the air, the seconds ticking by like hours. Then, unexpectedly, Wooyoung pulls you into his arms, holding you close against his chest.
“You’re mine, doll,” he declares, his voice a deep rumble against your ear. “Whatever happens to you, you belong to me. And I won’t let anyone, including who you were, threaten that.” His hands roam possessively over your body, a claim of ownership, a reminder of the twisted dynamic that binds you to him.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m absolving you of your sins,” he adds, his hot breath ghosting against your skin. “You’ll still face the consequences. Just perhaps not the ones you’ve feared.” He holds you tightly, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as if trying to burn away the shadows of your past. His hand drifts down to the small of your back, pressing you closer.
“You understand, my love? I’m offering you a reprieve, but you must learn to trust me completely. To obey without question, and you will be spared. I’m offering you a chance, and that is not something I give lightly.” Wooyoung leans in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “In return, I’ll ensure your safety…and pleasure.” The implication sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of apprehension and anticipation.
His grip tightens, as if to reinforce his claims, and yet also a silent allowance for your answer. Not that you need any time to deliberate. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against your ear, sending tingles down your spine. You nod, a silent agreement, your heart racing in your chest.
“Yes, Wooyoung,” you whisper, the name feeling like a prayer on your tongue. “I understand. I’ll follow your lead, as well as any and all decisions you make.”
You press yourself further into his embrace, craving the sense of security and belonging he offers. Even if it means surrendering parts of himself, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to stay by his side. “And…I trust you,” you add sincerely, the admission slipping out before you can stop it. The words hang in the air, a declaration of faith in the man who wields such power over you.
A satisfied smile plays on Wooyoung’s lips as he hears your whispered submission. He nuzzles your hair, inhaling your scent deeply.
“That’s my good doll,” he praises, his voice a low purr of approval. “You’re back in the game. Soon, you’ll be perfecting the role of my devoted wife.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and his wands begin to wander once more, tracing the contours of your body with a deliberate slowness.
“But first, let’s celebrate our new arrangement, shall we?” Without warning, he spins you to face him, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a flush creeping up your neck. “Get on your knees for me, doll. Show me the respect and obedience you’ve promised me,” he commands, his voice rough with desire.
Without hesitation, you quickly comply, falling to your knees in front of where he sits, looking up at Wooyoung with wide eyes and awaiting his next instruction. Wooyoung’s eyes follow the line of your body, a predatory glint in his eyes. He leans forward, forcing you to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.
“That’s a good doll,” he repeats, his voice dripping with approval. “Now, open wide. Show me how eager you are to please your husband.”
With that, he releases the button of his trousers, allowing them to sag slightly and reveal the impressive bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. You can practically taste the musky arousal, making your mouth water.
You can’t help but to shift forward until your face pressed against his clothed cock, mouthing at his underwear until he’s groaning at your ministrations. A low growl rips its way out of Wooyoung’s throat as he frees his thick cock from its confines. It slaps against his abdomen, obscene wet sounds making you hunger even more as you watch his precum bead out of the tip.
“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his hand wrapping around the base to guide himself into your waiting mouth. “Take it all, my doll. Every inch.”
As he pushes past your lips, you feel the heat of his flesh, the firmness of his cock stretching your mouth wide. The taste of him floods your mouth—salt and a little sweetness that makes your cunt clench and drip out more wetness to soak your underwear through.
Wooyoung begins to thrust slowly, savouring each vibration you send through his length as you moan and gag around his dick. Each stroke is deliberate, using your mouth for his pleasure and his pleasure only. And that in itself brings you into a heady mindset.
Your hands squeeze your thighs as you try to ignore the increasing wetness between your legs, focusing on sucking and licking as best as you can around his thick cock. His hips rock steadily, sliding in and out of your mouth with lewd sounds echoing through the penthouse. Groans and sighs spill out of his mouth, clearly enjoying your mouth working him to his orgasm.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his fingers tangling in your hair to guide your movements. “Take every bit of my cock. You look so perfect with it stuffed in your mouth, truly my perfect wife.”
The praise sends a thrill down your spine, even as you choke around his girth. It only serves to heighten your arousal, your cunt throbbing more and more as you swallow around him. You can feel his cock twitch, but before you can react, Wooyoung’s hands tangle in your hair. He holds your head down as he comes, shooting ropes of hot come down your throat with his head thrown back.
Eagerly, you swallow it all, licking the head of his length to coax every last drop out of him. Before you get very far, Wooyoung pulls himself free, his cock slick with saliva. “Stand up,” he orders, a smirk playing on his lips. You scramble to your feet, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and you can see his eyes roam over your body, drinking in the sight of you.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re worked up,” Wooyoung hums, reaching up to cup your breasts with his large hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples. “Look at you, so cute. All for me, aren’t they?” His tone is teasing as he pinches the flesh.
As he continues to toy with your tits, he snakes a hand down between your thighs, pressing against your underwear. “So wet too,” he notes approvingly, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to slide into your cunt easily. “You really are my eager wife, aren’t you?”
“Always, for you,” you gasp, hands reaching out to grasp his wrists. “Your wants are my wishes, please.” Your voice lilts into a whine, Wooyoung chuckling low in his throat at your desperate plea.
“That’s right, doll,” he agrees, his fingers pumping slowly in and out of you as his palm rubs circles on your sensitive clit. “You’ll give me everything I want, whenever I want it.”
The pressure applied to your clout becomes more insistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come for me, babydoll,” he demands, although he can’t keep the fondness out of his voice anymore. “God, you’re squeezing me so good with that greedy cunt of yours.”
The mix of praise and degradation sends you over the edge of pleasure. Shivers wrack through your body as you grind against his hand. “Wooyoung–” you gasp, legs trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut, moans cutting through your breaths.
As you tremble and quake through your orgasm, Wooyoung’s grip on your hips tightens, holding you still as he works his hand in you to help you ride out each wave. “That’s it, let go for me,” he hums, his voice silky smooth. “Give it all to me, doll.”
You lean forward, tears dropping out of your closed eyes and onto his thighs, Wooyoung easing his fingers from your pussy, licking your release off of the digits. “You taste even sweeter when you’re mine,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with possessiveness. He holds the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue pressing past your lips to claim every inch as his own.
Happily, you drop your mouth open to let him swallow every whimper and moan that tries to escape you as you chase his lips. Your core still aches but also craves more of him as your arms wrap around him.
Wooyoung breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with every breath as he gazes down at you with an intense passion. “I think it’s time we consummate this marriage,” he suggests, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as his hand trails down to squeeze your ass.
Before you can even react, he hoists you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to his bedroom. “We have a lot to discuss, my dear wife,” he hums, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a contrastingly gentle kiss to your cheek. “And I plan to thoroughly discuss every inch of your body.”
He pushes open the door and stalks towards the bed, his strides long and purposeful. Deftly, he drops you onto the soft bed, crawling over until he looms over you with a confident smirk.
Your eyes don’t leave him as you reach up to stroke his cheek gently, pulling him into a soft kiss. “I love you,” you can’t help but to say again, your gentle words lightening the hunger coursing through your veins.
At your whispered declaration, Wooyoung’s expression shifts, a flicker of something almost tender passing through his dark eyes as he captures your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands roam your body, mapping every dip and swell as if memorising you.
When he finally pulls back, his voice is heavy with emotion. “I know, YN. And I love you too. It might be in ways you don’t understand, but I do.” There’s sadness in his voice, an acknowledgement that his love is complex, and toxic. He leans down to trail kisses along your jaw and neck, teeth scraping at your delicate skin as he tries to take both your minds off of the seriousness. “Come on, let’s get comfortable. I want to show you exactly just how I love you.”
His hands slide up your dress, his calloused palms gliding over the expanse of your stomach as he lifts the garment over your head. You shiver as the cool air hits your body, goosebumps littering you.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the side of your breast, sending a shiver through your veins. With a fluid motion, he flips your positions, drawing you close to sit in his lap. His hands settle on your hips, guiding you down to grind against his hardening cock.
“Ride me, doll,” he commands, his eyes burning with desire. “Show me how much you want my touch.”
Carefully, you reach down and grasp his hard length, letting the head push into you slowly. A broken moan leaves your mouth as you sink down more and more.
Wooyoung grunts, his hands gripping your hips as you envelop his thick length, your cunt gripping him like a velvet vice. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses, his hands digging into your flesh as he helps guide you down further, sheathing himself fully inside you.
For a long moment, he simply savours the sensation of being buried to the hilt in your warm folds. Then, with a sudden thrust, he rocks you against him, setting a brutal pace that has you bounding on his cock with a needy cry. “There we are, doll, take it all,” he groans, his lips pulling into a fierce grin. “You were made for me, wife. This cunt is just for me, right?”
You bite your lips, trying to quieten your moans as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you drop your head into the crook of his neck, pulling him even closer.
At your movements, Wooyoung chuckles, his hips snapping upwards in a relentless rhythm. “Such a good doll, taking all of me like this,” he hums, his voice low in his throat.
One hand slides up your back to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the slender column of your neck. He latches onto the tender skin, biting and sucking marks into your flesh as he pounds into you with increasing ferocity. “You’re mine, doll,” he growls against your throat, his words punctuated by the lewd sounds of his hips meeting your ass. “Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
“I’m yours,” you repeat dumbly, eyes rolling back in your head. “Wooyoung, please…”
Wooyoung’s grip on your hair tightens as he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you,” he prompts, his voice a seductive purr. He slows his thrusts slightly, allowing you to feel every inch of his thick cock as he grinds against you. “Or maybe you just need to come undone on my dick, screaming my name?”
His free hand trails down to tease your sensitive clit, circling the bud with maddening slowness. The stimulation is nearly too much to bear, your core coiling tighter and tighter until you sink your teeth into his neck. “Please, Wooyoung,” you whimper, unable to string together a coherent sentence. “I need– I need–”
With a wicked smile and a nip to your ear, Wooyoung pinches your clit firmly, sending waves of pleasure through your nerves. “You need what, sweetheart?” he taunts, his fingers still mercilessly tormenting your aching cunt.
He picks up the pace once more, driving into you with ruthless abandon. The room fills with the symphony of your ragged breathing, his groans, and the obscene sounds of him working his cock deeper into you.
You throw your head back as you reach the cusp of pleasure again, body tensing as your cunt squeezes in a vice around him. “Fuck– Wooyoung–” you cry out before your core snaps and you come, creaming around his cock as you whine and whimper.
Wooyoung’s control slips at the feel of your pussy clamping down on him. With a feral moan, he buries himself to the hilt and holds you down on his cock, the length of it pulsating as he fills you with enough come that it bubbles out of your conjoined bodies.
“Fuck, take it all,” he hisses, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out his climax. His fingers dig into your hips and thighs, marking you with crescent shapes as he buries his face in your hair.
As the waves of pleasure ebb, he collapses back onto the bed, dragging you down with him to nestle against his chest. His heart thunders against your ear as he strokes your hair soothingly, a rare display of tenderness from the usually dominant man.
“That’s it, doll,” Wooyoung continues to pet your hair softly, his breathing gradually evening out and his heart slowing to a lull. “Just relax now. Let me hold you, my wife.”
Despite the lingering ache between your thighs, his cock softening inside of you, you find yourself relaxing in his embrace, his warm body surrounding you. After a while, he tilts your chin up to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss, his tongue sweeping across the seam of your mouth to taste the remnants of your passion. When he finally breaks away, his gaze is almost affectionate.
“Come on, doll, let’s get cleaned up,” he says, although there’s no real conviction behind his words.
You press your lips against his again, enjoying the soft domesticity of this. “Let’s stay like this for just a little longer, please,” you ask, voice tinged with timidness as if scared he’ll leave again.
Wooyoung’s expression turns thoughtful at your request, a small furrow appearing between his brows. For a long moment, he simply looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your emotions. Then, with a subtle nod, he enfolds you more securely in his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from the world.
“Alright, doll,” he agrees quietly. “Just a little longer. We’ve got all night, after all.”
He presses another tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if savouring the simple intimacy of the gesture. In this moment, the ruthless kingpin seems to fade away, replaced by a man who craves connection, however fleeting or unconventional. Time seems to stand still as you both bask in the afterglow, the world outside your intimate bubble fading into insignificance. It’s a fleeting reprieve from the harsh realities of their lives, but one they cling to desperately, savouring the precious few moments of tranquility before the storm inevitably returns.
-
“Doll, come here.” You can hear Wooyoung’s voice from across the apartment, his tone low and commanding. It leaves no room for disagreement, so you quickly slip out of the bedroom where you were going over the financial reports of your club. 
Wooyoung stands in the living room, arms crossed and face guarded. “It’s time for your punishment. Come with me.” You nod quickly, body tensing. It’s been weeks since you admitted your feelings, and Wooyoung had made no move to punish you for the disloyalty. Now, it seems he has finally decided on a fitting end.
Without waiting for a response, Wooyoung turns and strides out of the apartment, expecting you to follow closely behind. He leads you to a nondescript car, different from his usual automobile, the interior far more luxurious than the exterior would suggest.
He opens the passenger door for you, his expression still unreadable. “Get in,” he orders curtly, not offering any further explanation. You quickly follow suit, and Wooyoung walks around the car to get into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and starting the trip.
The cityscape blurs in the windows, an uncomfortable silence settling uncomfortably over the car. After a few tense minutes, Wooyoung finally speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. “Doll, whatever comes, I want you to know this isn’t a reflection of how I feel about you. This is a necessity for you to understand I can’t let anyone cross me.” He glances at you sideways.
It takes you a moment to realise he’s waiting for an answer, and you quickly nod. “Of course, Wooyoung, I understand.” Your voice sounds quiet and foreign even to yourself, but your words are true.
Wooyoung’s jaw clenches at your obedient response, a flicker of something akin to pride crossing his features. He reaches over to squeeze your thigh reassuringly, his touch firm yet gentle.
“You’re smart, doll. That’s why I chose you,” he hums, his voice taking on a tone of affection. “Now, just sit back and relax for now. We’ll be there soon.”
As promised, you arrive at your destination in a short while—a seedy, rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town. Wooyoung parks the car and exits, motioning for you to join him. He leads you through the dark halls to a room, akin to a dungeon. The heavy wooden door creaks shut behind you both, enveloping you in an atmosphere of dark anticipation.
Once inside, he produces a dark cloth, wrapping it around your wrists and binding them in front of you. You twitch, wanting to bat his hands away, but you hold back. When he finishes, he steps back, his piercing gaze raking over your form appraisingly. “I’ll strip you,” he orders, his voice devoid of emotion. “Then I want you on your knees when I return.”
Without waiting for a response, he quickly rips your dress off of you and exits the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts. The cool air feels thick with tension, each second ticking by agonisingly slow as you hastily comply with his demands.
After what feels like hours, but is probably only ten minutes, the door swings open once more, and you register Wooyoung’s breathing before you even see him as he stands in the threshold. It takes you another moment to realise he’s got a heavy bag slung over his shoulder.
Before you can even question what’s in it, Wooyoung throws it to the ground in front of me, and the bag lets out a muffled grunt. You recoil as you realise there’s a human being in there. “Wooyoung–” you start to talk, but Wooyoung shakes his head and you snap your mouth shut.
“I don’t think dolls can speak, can they?”
As soon as you nod shallowly, Wooyoung reaches out and undoes the bag, pulling the person out roughly. It takes you a moment to register, but when you see it’s your old boss, Wooyoung’s rival, you can’t keep the sharp gasp from exiting your mouth. He’s got a black eye and a busted nose, but he’s awake, shifting uncomfortably.
“Say hello, doll,” Wooyoung hums, his voice light but dangerous. “Park here wants to apologise, right?”
He kicks his rival in the ribs, a glint in his eye that can be seen even in the darkness. You can see the figure of Beomjun scramble to his knees, a strong contrast to the terrifying leader you once knew. “I’m sorry,” he repeats what is a clear script, his voice tense and teeth gritted, “for using what wasn’t mine. Wooyoung’s property is not to be touched.”
You can hardly keep your eyes off the grovelling figure, so you don’t notice when Wooyoung approaches you until he presses a cool metal object in your hand. A gun lays in your hand, and your hands shift to hold it properly automatically. “Shoot him,” Wooyoung’s voice rings clear, his mock whisper meant to be heard by Beomjun.
“Wait, please, you said you wouldn’t–” Beomjun’s words dissolve into whimpers and sobs. You never thought you’d see such a strong leader in the black market appear so…pathetic. “I won’t bother you anymore, I’ll leave YN alone, please– let me live– I’ll give you all my assets–”
Wooyoung clicks his tongue. “Either way, I’ll get all of your offers, Park. Your incentives are nothing but dust.” He leans forward to brush his lips against your ear. “Shoot him, doll. Show me that you put all your trust in me, now. He is nothing to you.”
His hand moves to your waist, and the other one lifts your arm that’s holding the gun until it’s aimed at him. Although you hesitate just a moment, Wooyoung’s words wind around your mind like a snake, and your finger twitches on the trigger.
You don’t even register the sound of the gunshot as Beomjun’s next plea is caught in his throat and he collapses against the concrete, eyes open wide and blood pooling around his body. You can hardly think as Wooyoung presses a chaste kiss to your cheekbone, taking the gun out of your hands and shoving it in his waistband before leading you to a small sink in the corner of the room, where he wets a paper towel to clean the specks of blood that landed on you.
As he wipes gently, he leans in close, lips pressing against your temple. “Remember, doll, my patience has limits. Don’t ever test them again.” With that warning, he brings you to a different room, where it’s decorated simply with a bed and nothing else. “Come, sit on my lap,” Wooyoung commands, his voice strangely gentle.
Carefully, you follow his direction until you’re nested up against his chest. You can feel his boner through his slacks, curious as to where this is headed. Before you even have time to gasp, Wooyoung flips your skirt up and pushes aside your underwear before pressing his fingers into you.
He’s not gentle by any means, but the roughness only brings you pleasure as tears fill your eyes. You’re sure the wetness trickling down your cheeks only makes him hard, and you can feel it beneath you as well.
“Are you going to try to betray me again, wife?” Wooyoung asks, the pet name spoken without affection, although you know it’s hidden under the punishment you deserve.
You quickly shake your head, eyes wide. Killing someone still has you shaken up, but you’re in no mood to piss Wooyoung off ever again, and you want to enjoy the pleasure of his fingers. “No, Wooyoung, husband, I promise–”
Your quick response and lilt of a whine in your voice gives Wooyoung pause, his fingers slowing. “Good doll,” he croons, leaning in to give you a proper kiss, gentle and loving despite his rough treatment earlier. “You’re so pretty and perfect for me, let’s keep it that way.”
The gentle touch of his lips has you whining and twitching your hips, and you can feel the gun tucked away pressing against your thigh. The thought of it has you whining, and you must be easier to read than you think, your eyes flickering down to where it sits, because Wooyoung chuckles and reaches down to pull it out.
“Look at you, so dirty, wife,” Wooyoung preeens, pressing the barrel against your thigh and dragging it up until it’s hooked through the gifted necklace and pressing against your chin. “Begging for my cock, begging for my gun. Aren’t you a pretty picture for me? So pliable.”
You whine, nodding eagerly even as the gun knocks against your chin. “Please,” you gasp out, hips grinding against his hand even without his prompting.
Your begging only makes Wooyoung’s smile wider as he moves the gun until it’s pushing your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. “Did I tell you to speak, doll?” he grits out, hand stilling his movement. “Be a good doll and open your mouth for me.”
When your mouth drops open almost immediately, a delighted chuckle leaves Wooyoung’s throat at your eagerness. Without saying a word, he pushes the tip of the gun into your mouth, forcing you to taste the metallic tang of the barrel.
Your cunt leaks around Wooyoung’s fingers, your eyes glazing over as your mind drifts away and all you want to do is please. The gun doesn’t push too far past your teeth, not like Wooyoung’s cock would, and you lick and suck at it gently as you rock slowly against Wooyoung.
The amusement in Wooyoung’s eyes only increases as he reaches down to unfasten his pants, pulling his rock-hard cock out. “Come on, baby, ride me,” he commands, pushing your hips up until his cock aligns with your cunt. “Show me how much you want to be used.”
With the gun still in your mouth, you drop down, his length spearing into you until you whine around the metal. Saliva drips out of your mouth and down your throat, pooling in your collarbones and slicking up your breasts. Your eyes roll back as you start a slow pace, bouncing up and down as best as you can.
Wooyoung’s hang grabs your hip tight enough to leave bruises, pushing you down to take him even deeper. The whine you let out is cut short as he slams his hips up into you, fucking you with wild abandon.
You can hardly feel anything except searing pleasure as he thrusts into you, the gun now resting in your mouth too far gone to continue sucking on it. But then Wooyoung leans in closer, nose brushing against your ear. “The safety’s off.”
It’s a lie, a bald-faced lie. You saw him lock it before sliding it into its holster. You know that it won’t shoot, the trigger wouldn’t even budge. And yet, the idea of it makes you groan around the barrel, cunt spasming as you come around Wooyoung’s cock, squeezing it so tight your core aches.
Wooyoung gasps at the feeling, pulling the gun out of your mouth and tossing it to the side as he pulls you closer into a bruising kiss, teeth scraping at your lips. “Fuck–” he moans into your mouth “–you fucking slut. You love having a gun in your mouth and a cock up your pussy? Maybe next time I’ll shove it up your cunt while I fuck your ass, such a perfect dumb whore.”
The kisses he litters on your lips betray his harsh words, and he comes with a groan, cock twitching as his hands grope your tits roughly. You’re limp, leaning against you as he uses you for his own pleasure. He grinds into as you pant against his collarbone, drawing a few more weak drops of come out of his cock.
As you lay against his chest, Wooyoung chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “You know,” he hums, “a punishment isn’t supposed to be so pleasurable for you. But I’ll let it slide this time.”
There’s no way you can register his words properly, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he lays you down and lets you regain your mind and energy. Your eyes flutter shut as he strokes your hair softly, his gaze transfixed on you, a mix of possessiveness and adoration flickering in his eyes. “Rest now, and we’ll talk later,” Wooyoung hums more to himself than anything else. For now, he’ll enjoy the calm of this moment.
-
The ride home is silent, the only sound is the hum of the engine and your ragged breathing as you try to grasp what just happened. You don’t know what to say or do, hands grasped together as you try to wrap your head around the events of today. After shooting Beomjun’s lackey, it never occurred to you that it might have to happen again, much less that it would be Beomjun himself. But something in you burns at the power you held over the gang leader.
Upon returning to the penthouse, Wooyoung ushers you inside, his demeanour softening slightly as he removes his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He glances over at you, noticing your conflicting expressions, and he sighs through his nose.
“Doll, you okay? It was intense, but you needed to understand the world I live in, through its entirety.” He pads over to you, closing the distance, reaching out to pry your fingers apart and weave his own through yours. “It’s late…let’s get some rest. I want to hold you.”
He’s trying to divert the topic, and you grasp at it, following him like a sheep led to slaughter, letting him gently change you into pyjamas. He even brushes your teeth, treating you like you’re fragile and may break at any moment. When he slides into bed, he pulls you alongside, wrapping his arms around you.
As you settle into the warmth of his embrace, you let out a sigh and your body finally relaxes and sinks into the mattress. Despite the tumultuous relationship he provides you with, his presence still gives you a sense of safety and security.
“Wooyoung…I love you,” you breathe out, turning to press your face into his neck.
He stiffens slightly at your words, his hold on you tightening almost imperceptibly. For a long moment, he remains silent, processing your words. He’ll never be truly used to hearing you say it out loud, his line of work stunting his emotions. But, it still gives him warmth.
In low tones, he responds, “You’d better, doll. You’re mine, body and soul.” Despite his gruff words, there’s a hint of vulnerability, a glimpse of the man beneath the hardened kingpin. He strokes your hair soothingly, his other hand tracing gentle patterns on your hip. “Sleep now, doll. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”
Despite the complexity of your relationship, you drift off easily, feeling a sense of belonging. For better or for worse, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. And one day, you’ll have him grovelling under you.
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daemour · 3 months ago
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IRENE 🌹 'like a flower' 241215.
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