#I can’t even go talk a walk 😭

[trailandkale]

it still feels like someone smashed a hammer on my foot.

[bibleofficial]

went to the beach w kp & 4 other indian friends & 3 of us had NEVER surfed before girl WHEW it’s SO fun literally only 20quid to rent a wetsuit & board & i fucking smashed my toes on the sand so much, but also we 1) got the wrong tickets so we got off 1 stop early 2) went to find a bus & the bus that was supposed to be 15 min turned into an HOUR 3) on our way to find a bus back everyone’s phones are dying or dead bc it took us 3hrs longer to get there, cigarettes are out 4) all of the shops in town are closed & the town seems to have ONLY a tesco extra & 1 off license that sells a PACK FOR 15.65 A PACK WHICH IS FUCKING CRIMINAL ITS CHEAPER TO BUY IT FROM TESCO ARE U INSANE 5) the bus back to the other town kept skipping us bc the bus stop wasn’t the ACTUAL bus stop - i had 1 bowl since literally 11a & we got back at fucking 11p 😭😭😭

[madamechrissy]

Meddle About

Choso art is from @aransmind omg all their art is so delicious 😩😩😭 go follow themm

pairings- Tattoo Artist Choso x F! Reader

summary- After a bad breakup, on a whim you decide to go get a tattoo!! You remember Choso from college, he was so hot and mysterious but the two of you never talked. Now, he just happens to be the artist of the shop you randomly walk into. And you quickly learn- tattoos make you horny. Whoopsie!!

warnings- this chap, sexual tension, teasing, smut coming on the next, Choso being hot asf. He's not gonna be submissive in this one sorryy

I was thinking of my last tattoo sesh 🤭🤭 Gonna be drabble style chaps 🫶🫶🖤

part two>>>

part one

You didn't expect to get soaking wet as Choso, your tattoo artist, is running that needle across your upper thigh with precision skill. So focused, biting his plump lower lip as he looks at his work, other hand on your hip as he holds you where he needs you.

You knew Choso from college but the two of you never really hung out, you thought he was gorgeous of course but never spoke up, just focusing on your studies and running on red bull and exhaustion. Seeing him today after a horrible breakup and getting a tattoo on a whim was comforting, you knew him already.

But then his fingers touched you.

Long, thick fingers, black rings on each one, painted black nails that are just a little chipped off. Music is softly playing in the background, and its just the two of you in here, in his shop, while he presses ink into your bare skin. The pain feels so good, you feel your cunt throbbing, hands gripping and ungripping at your sides. You let out a moan and he pauses, looking up under dark lashes, as his lips part just a bit

"You good, honey?" He murmurs thoughtfully, black brows knitted together, worried you were hurt. This was your first tattoo, and you were trembling a little, he's trying to ignore how sexy your thighs are, to be professional, but it's almost impossible.

Hed thought you were so pretty in college but he was sure you never noticed him, and he was too shy back then to approach you. You already knowing his name alone surprised him. Your pretty eyes look at him, they're lidded, lips glossy as you nod just a bit, shifting to get up on your elbows. Your black skirt is slipping up and revealing your panties then, making him swallow nervously. His eyes dart away before he stares too long, but he saw them, soaking light pink fabric that makes his tongue ache to lap you up.

"I'm sorry, fuck this is embarrassing," you whisper now, nervously. "I'm um..."

"Don't be embarrassed, people get um... turned on alot during tattoos." He rubs the back of his neck nervously, you eye how just a lock of hair is falling out of his spiky black bun. You brush back a lock before you can think better, and watch his eyes go almost black, feeling your heart race.

"Don't think it's just the tattoo," your soft whisper makes him ache, hard and leaking pre behind his dark ripped jeans just from that. He pictures pinning you down to this black leather bench, having you cum for him then, just from a brush of your fingers. "I'm not usually this bold, ex did a fucking number on me. I think my brain has been fucked."

"Shit I'm sorry." He's so sweet you don't even think he is interested in more, why are you ovulating right now!? And the break up. And Choso is fucking gorgeous.

To much is working against you, and could your pussy stop dribbling!?!

When he's back to tattooing you, you swallow nervously again, laying back and looking up at the mirror overhead. You see his dark head is right over your lap as he runs the vibrating needles on your inner thigh, the pain so delicious you moan again.

Choso pauses.

"Sorry!" You cover your face in embarassment when he inhales your scent, seeing the trickle of arousal slipping down your inner thigh then, glimmering under the lights. He can’t help but have one of his thumbs slipping across it, bringing it to his lips.

Your eyes widen when you peek through your fingers at him, heart hammering, he looks so fucking hot sucking your wetness off him. He places the tattoo gun down now, standing and leaning over you. Your pulse hammers in your fucking ears when a huge hand presses your thigh apart, and your eyes lock, as he drags your wrists down.

"Choso, sorry I'll stop wriggling around," he shakes his head, as you study his pierced lip, when his tongue runs across it, you catch sight of his tongue ring, wrecking your brain further.

"I can't tattoo you like this, we need a break. Get you calmed down, hmm?" You nod nervously, when he leans down, black and silver chained necklaces brushing against your throat and chest when his lips are an inch from yours. "Tell me what you need, pretty?"

You're at a loss for words, just blinking then, Choso called you pretty. Your breasts rising and falling rapidly, the stinging of your thigh burning as the a/c blows across it. You can't say shit, your hand slipping under his thin black shirt, feeling the strength of his rippling muscles, watching the violet of his eyes turn to black as you touch him.

"Use your words, honey. What do you need to calm down and let me do my work?" He raises a pierced brow, you just arch your hips. His lips quirk up. "Use. Your. Words."

"Touch me, Choso."

Hehe comment to be tagged in pt 2 🤭🤭🖤🖤 yes he would be wearing gloves, no I don't care bc I need him sucking his fingers SORRY- also yes, imma tease

[loonylupinblack3]

Go Slow

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, (brief) dry humping

Summary: it's your first time and Logan tries to go slow, he really does, but some things just can't be helped

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: i'm not too practiced in smut so sorry if it's shit 😭

Logan knew you were on the shy side of things. During the start of your relationship he’d had to coax words from you, feelings and opinions you held until you felt comfortable enough to share them without being asked. You’d be nervous and fidgety when asking to see him, acting like he was an attractive stranger when he was your boyfriend. 

In all honesty though Logan didn’t mind. He enjoyed your shy, almost naive personality, and was more than happy to wait for you to be comfortable with him before suggesting going any further. 

Sure, it was difficult for him to wait, but not impossible. If his pants tightened slightly when you walked in the room with ridiculously short shorts and practically sat in his lap with them, you didn’t notice. When you were sleeping in bed together and would unconsciously rub yourself against him, causing him to have to leave the bed for a bit lest he did something he'd regret, you remained blissfully unaware. And if he was putting away your laundry and came across a pair of lacy black panties with bows adorning it, you wouldn’t even notice they went missing.

Logan was more than okay to wait.

You, on the other hand, were not.

It started with small changes in you and your actions, though Logan couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. You were more flustered around him than usual, jumpier and shier than you’d been before. You were quieter too, staring at him with more intensity than before, as if trying to read his mind. Yet it wasn’t as if you were pulling away from him, because you were much more touchy and clingy than usual, always needing to hold him and often being the initiator of any make out session you two might have- which is as far as you’d gone.

It was during one of these sessions, having started when you both grew bored of the movie playing on the screen, that you started straddling Logan, kissing him with more fevor than you usually did. Surprised, though certainly not disappointed, Logan kissed you back, hands resting on your thighs and occasionally running up and down them when his control slipped.

When he felt you rock against him slightly he knew something was up. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Logan when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and Logan had to gently push you off him.

Immediately you started apologising, looking at your hands nervously fidgeting with your t-shirt, refusing to so much as glance at Logan.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright Bub,” Logan said gently. “I just don’t want to do anything before talking about it first.”

You risked a glance at him, trying to find any lie in his face. “You’re not angry at me?”

Logan would have laughed if he wasn’t worried about upsetting you further. “‘Course not. I fucking loved that, actually, but we can’t do it, or anything like that, without talking about it first. I gotta make sure you’re okay with it.”

You nodded your head with such eagerness Logan’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’m okay with it.”

He smiled at your needy demeanour and had to hold himself back from gladly going along with it. “What exactly do you want, Sweetheart? I gotta know that.”

You bit your lips shyly, glancing up at him from your lashes in such a way Logan was tempted to be fucked with all of this and just take you. He’d been waiting for months, however, so he could certainly wait a few more minutes, and restrained himself as such.

“I want to feel good,” you mumbled quietly. “Want you to make me feel good.”

Oh fuck.

Logan wasn’t sure he could handle this. Desire was coursing through his veins, his cock was throbbing almost painfully against his pants as he watched you, shy and naive but so wanting for him.

“Alright Bub, we can do that,” he eventually said, because fuck he wanted to make you feel good too. He wanted you moaning and whimpering his name, whining and panting underneath him because of him.

Yet as soon as he had you undressed and under him he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted. You looked petrified, eyes squeezed shut as you waited for Logan to enter you, and that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m not doing this Sweetheart,” he said, moving away.

You opened your eyes, seeming both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “What? Why?”

Logan sighed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your neck. Even with both of you naked it was surprisingly not desire filled and simply comforting. “Because you obviously don’t want it.”

You shook your head and turned around to face him, straddling him in a similar position as before. “I do want it. Just… it felt a bit scary like that.”

Logan thought about her words for a moment before inspiration struck him. “Do you want to ride me instead?”

You actually gasped, your eyes widening at the suggestion, yet he could also see the desire radiating off of you- he could smell it too- and feel the slick coming from your cunt at the thought. He smirked, taking that as a yes.

“I’m going to lift you up and slowly place you down on me. You can stop me at any moment, okay?” he asked you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with this.

You nodded your head, looking apprehensive but also excited, as you glanced down at his hard on, licking your lips slightly. “I don’t know if it will fit.”

Logan nearly groaned then and there. “It will.”

Hesitant but sure, you let Logan’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, positioning his cock at your entrance. He gave you a few seconds to back out, and when you didn’t, staring at him confidently, Logan sunk you down on his cock.

Fuck even just his tip inside you felt like heaven, your cunt squeezing against him. You let out a gasp and he hesitated, waiting, and you slowly nodded your head, giving him the go ahead to continue. He did so gently, making you take him inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to get used to the feeling of him until you’d finally taken all of him inside you.

The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock was heavenly. He could barely think, and all he wanted to do was fuck you hard and fast, chase the release he so desperately wanted. Yet he waited for it to feel comfortable for you, waiting for the pain to ease before he did anything.

“Okay… what now?” you asked in a timid voice.

Logan had to muffle the sound threatening to escape him at the sight of you blinking bashfully at him while he was inside you. It was too good to be true.

“Now you move,” Logan said roughly, because he didn’t trust himself to move and not fuck you viciously like he wanted to.

You thought for a moment before giving an experimental rock, gasping at the pleasure accompanying the action. You repeated the rock again, then again, creating a slow but sure movement that was slowly killing Logan.

Every sway of your hips, the way you rode his cock eagerly if not skillfully, was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it baby,” he rasped. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me baby.”

You rolled your hips, whining at the praise and closing your eyes but only increasing your motions, one hand moving up to cup your breast. You grounded onto him, gasping when he hit that perfect spot, whispering Logan’s name like a prayer

He swore at the sight, and couldn’t help the jerk his hips made, a small gasp escaping you. It felt so good, the spike of pleasure overwhelming and your readily response too much, and he did it again.

You moaned this time, a dirty, high pitched sound that was ringing in Logan’s ears, urging him on as he took your hips in his hand and lifted you up, only to slam you down on his cock again. Your moan was delicious, and you placed both your hands on his chest, moving forward to make him go deeper.

Logan did groan this time, and used your hips to continue moving you on his dick, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You were a whining mess, eyes glazed and body limp above him.

“Feel so good,” Logan grunted, thrusting into you. “So fucking good for me.”

You whimpered, gasping as your eyes fluttered closed again. Logan grinned.

“You like that baby? You like me telling you what a good girl you’re being, riding my cock so prettily.”

Your moans came more frequent, panting every second, and Logan could tell you were close. He increased his pace, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him, and wasn’t disappointed by the result.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”

With a cry you threw your head back, ecstasy painting your face as you came, your walls tightening. The feeling of them squeezing Logan’s dick, your cunt milking it for all its worth was too much and he felt himself fall after you, his load of cum shooting into your already stuffed hole.

“Fuck baby,” he cursed, helping you ride out both your highs, moving your hips over him.

You were still panting as you slowly came down from your high, boneless as you laid against Logan’s chest.

“You did so good for me darling,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You let out a sound, nuzzling his neck, and he happily held you against him, pressing kisses to your face and neck till you were ready to move.

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[sugarwarachan]

i go back to read ur touchstarved!shigaraki probably three times a day and im being deadass 😭😭😭 if u ever think of more…….. i’d love 😁😁

nonnie you’re in luck because I think about him all day long he literally makes me ill 😭 more touchstarved!shiggy here

touchstarved!shigaraki who has no sexual experience whatsoever but is the walking talking textbook definition of sexual frustration

touchstarved!shigaraki who starts fantasizing about you to the point that it interferes with his daily life—he starts dropping the ball on LOV plans, becomes even more disengaged and irritable during meetings

touchstarved!shigaraki who finally caves and searches for porn (inexpertly), not really caring for the content so much as the fact that the person must look like you

touchstarved!shigaraki who starts researching sex toys that mimic your tight little hole (disgusting pervert god I want him), desperate in a way he’s never been in his entire life

touchstarved!shigaraki who can’t stop thinking about how you’d feel, how’d you sound, how your sweet little pussy clench around nothing above his face, desperate for his cock to fill you up nice and tight

touchstarved!shigaraki who’s making himself cum at least twice a day just to be able to fucking function

[hyuckiefluff]

MOONSTRUCK | p. jisung

pairing: werewolf!hufflepuff! jisung x hufflepuff!fem. reader genre: best friends to lovers, hogwarts/supernatural au, angst, smut. wc: 18.3k+ summary: after a cruel prank leaves jisung cursed, he withdraws from everyone—including you, his closest friend. but secrets can't stay hidden forever, and when a full moon pulls you into the darkness he's tried so desperately to conceal, there's no going back. content warnings: werewolf lore & transformation, drug usage, rut/mating behavior, rough sex, biting/marking, mild breeding kink, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, knotting, bulge kink, mentions of bruising & blood, mild body horror, brief medical talk (contraceptive), aftercare. lmk if i missed any! a/n: nearly a month in the making and i can finally say i’m satisfied enough to post this lol. i’m actually really happy with how it turned out—and i finally got to write about werewolves, which has been on my list forever. canonically, werewolves in the HP universe (and most lore tbh) are dangerous nocturnal creatures and primarily bloodthirsty. but for this fic, i took a step away from that and leaned into the rut aspect instead because why not ;) pls don’t judge the cover, i had picsart and a dream lol. btw moonstruck by enhypen and nda by billie eilish are two songs u should listen to while reading this!

ps: i don’t know why i was under the assumption that everyone knows hp terms but i realized that is not the case after my mark fic 😭 so even though i didn’t use too many obscure ones here, here’s a little reference guide just in case: legilimens– someone who can read minds or emotions squib– a non-magical person born into a magical family (in this fic, it’s thrown around more like calling someone useless/coward) wolfsbane– a potion that allows werewolves to keep their mind during a full moon; in hp lore they still transform, but in this fic it's not a full transformation. feel free to message me if anything else was confusing! happy reading<3

You didn’t expect your seventh year at Hogwarts to feel like grieving someone who was still alive.

Three months ago, Park Jisung was still your best friend. Now, he can’t even stand being near you. 

The suddenness of this change was something you couldn’t wrap around your head. But things don’t always fall apart all at once. Sometimes they drift until you’re left staring across a room at someone who used to know everything about you and wondering when they became a stranger.

He was the very first friend you made at Hogwarts. You remember how he barely spoke to anyone, and you sat next to him in Transfiguration class just because there was an empty seat. You charmed your quill into a frog that wouldn’t stop croaking, and when he finally cracked a smile, it felt like you’d won something important.

He was awkward and soft-spoken, unsure of himself in the way most boys are before they grow into their limbs. But you liked him instantly. Probably because he liked the same books as you, or because he never made fun of you for being nervous on a broom. 

He even held your hand during your first flying lesson, hovering near you the whole time so you wouldn’t be scared. Years later, you found out he was just as scared of heights as you were and only pretended not to be to make you feel safe.

By fifth year, you spent so much time together that you could finish each other’s sentences. By sixth, you were bringing blankets to the highest tower in the castle and naming stars until you both fell asleep mid conversation. There wasn’t a single version of your life in Hogwarts that didn’t include him.

You thought seventh year would be just like that…. 

You were wrong.

After a summer of sending each other daily letters, pages and pages of thoughts, jokes, and half-sincere promises to never grow up, you returned to school thinking nothing could change.

And at first, it didn’t.

You walked to classes together, fell asleep with your legs tangled on the same couch, pretending not to hear the way people whispered about it the next morning, and snuck out of the common room after curfew not caring that you’d get caught.

The Astronomy Tower was your favorite place, you discovered how pretty it looked at night in your third year. 

It was quiet that evening, the wind tugging at your robes as you leaned over the battlement. Jisung set down the little paper packet he’d smuggled from the kitchens—honey biscuits, still warm—and nudged it toward you.

“Payment for helping with my Potions homework,” he said, trying to be casual, though the tips of his ears were already pink.

You laughed and took one, bumping his shoulder with yours. “You’d owe me a whole bakery if this were the price.”

He smiled softly. The moonlight caught in his hair, and for a second you forgot the chill entirely.

“Close your eyes,” he said suddenly.

You arched an eyebrow but obeyed. Something light, wool‑soft, was placed around your shoulders. You opened your eyes to find his black‑and‑yellow scarf wrapped there, smelling faintly of cedarwood soap and parchment ink—purely, unmistakably Jisung.

“You’re shivering,” he mumbled, eyes on his shoes. “Couldn’t have my star‑chart partner freeze.”

You swallowed a reply that felt too big, and instead reached for his hand where it rested on the stone ledge. Your fingers threaded with his, easy as blinking. He stiffened for a second then squeezed back. When you looked up, his gaze was already fixed on you, wide and bright, as though the whole sky were reflected there instead of above your heads.

Neither of you moved for a long while. Orion wheeled overhead, the biscuits cooled, and the castle bells tolled curfew far below. But the only thing you really noticed was the warmth of his palm against yours, and the way your heart tripped every time he glanced your way and smiled shyly. 

You learned just how soft‑hearted Jisung was that day on the Astronomy Tower.

Which is why, a few weeks into seventh year, it struck you as utterly wrong when rumors reached you that he’d been seen tagging along behind Lee Seungmin. Seungmin was everything Jisung wasn’t—loud, sharp‑tongued, the sort of Slytherin who thought shoving first‑years into suits of armor was a hobby and swapping curse ingredients under the table was a joke. He hexed quills to peck at classmates and bragged about detentions like they were trophies.  

Jisung, by contrast, apologized when he bumped into someone and brought extra quills for anyone who forgot theirs. He flinched at raised voices and fed the barn owls after hours because he worried they were lonely.

So hearing his name linked with Seungmin’s felt like hearing that rain was falling upward. At first you laughed it off, because surely someone must have mixed him up with another quiet Hufflepuff. But then Jisung started arriving late to meals, dodging your study sessions, mumbling vague excuses you’d never heard from him before.

That was when you realized the rumor wasn’t a mistake—and that something was very, very wrong.

Seventh Year

September settled over the castle in a bright rush of golden leaves and new parchment, and for a while everything felt the way it always had. You and Jisung were crossing the courtyard—still laughing about his theory that Professor Lockhart polished his hair with Mrs. Skower’s Extra‑Shine—when a voice cut through the chatter behind you.

“Oi, Park!”

You both turned. Lee Seungmin jogged toward you, grinning widelys. You didn’t bother hiding your sigh.

“Still on for tonight?” he asked, dropping his voice as he leaned in toward Jisung.

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a Potions essay to finish.” Jisung shifted akwardly.

Seungmin smacked him on the back, too hard to be friendly. “Come on, you’ve bailed twice already.”

You stepped forward, folding your arms. “Don’t you have that same essay, Seungmin? It’s half the term grade.”

He turned, as if noticing you for the first time and smirked “Why bother? Snape’s going to fail me anyway.”

“Typical,” you muttered.

“I’ll let you know later,” Jisung said quickly, cutting between you before another jab could leave your mouth.

Seungmin’s gaze lingered on you, faintly mocking, before he turned away with a humorless laugh. “Sure thing, Park.”

The moment he was out of earshot you exhaled. “Since when are you and Seungmin… close?”

“We’re not,” Jisung said, scratching at the back of his neck. “He just hangs around sometimes.”

You searched his face. “You two have nothing in common.”

“It isn’t a big deal,” he insisted, but the laugh that followed sounded fake.

“It is if you’re sneaking off with someone like him,” you said, sharper than you meant to, but the worry was too much to hide.

Jisung’s gaze dropped to his shoes. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

You didn’t say anything after that. You just walked the rest of the way to class in silence with a sense of unease settling on your chest.

That was when the distance began to show.

First, he started seating two rows over in Charms, smiling apologetically whenever you glanced his way but never moving back. He stopped leaving crooked little jokes on the margins of your Transfiguration notes or looking at you and trying not to laugh whenever Professor Lockhart messed up a spell.

He still spoke to you, yet every conversation felt stitched together, as if he were acting out a script. One afternoon you finally asked, “Are we all right?” He nodded so quickly you had a hard time believing it.

The next time you saw him with Seungmin it was well past curfew.

You had just left the library after wrestling Arithmancy proofs and stopped short as soon as you rounded the corner near the dungeon stairs. There was Seungmin leaning against the wall and Jisung half‑turned away, both speaking in low murmurs. You caught only fragments of Seungmin’s lazy drawl and Jisung’s tight replies. Then Seungmin laughed sharply, and your best friend flinched as though struck.

Your loud footsteps made both of their heads snap up.

“Y/N,” Jisung blurted, striding toward you as if to block your view. “Why are you out so late?”

“I could ask you the same.” You said arching a brow.

Behind him, Seungmin offered a thin grin before slipping down the stairs into the darkness of the dungeons.

Jisung pressed a hand to his eyes. “I was heading back to the dorm.”

“What did he want?”

“He—” Jisung’s voice faltered and for a heartbeat you saw the words gather behind his lips but he swallowed them down. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Your voice cracked on the word. “Come on, Ji.”

“I’m just tired,” he whispered. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

Silence pooled between you, at last you forced a smile neither of you believed. “All right. Tomorrow.”

But tomorrow never arrived—at least, not the kind where he told you what was wrong.

Because the next day Jisung never came to class at all.

Two whole days slid by without a glimpse of him and you were so on edge you kept glancing over your shoulder, half‑expecting his soft voice behind you. Or hoping he might walk into the library with that shy lopsided smile, asking if you had spare parchment which he always ran out of because his handwriting was too big and messy.

But he wasn’t anywhere, and no one seemed willing to notice besides you.

By lunch on the second day you couldn’t keep silent. Renjun was halfway through a Honeydukes bar, mumbling that chocolate boosted cognitive function, when you leaned across the table and murmured, “Do you know what’s going on with Jisung?”

He froze mid‑bite. “What?”

“Renjun,” you said, low and tight, “you know he hasn’t been to class, or in the common room. He isn’t anywhere.”

“I thought he was sick,” Renjun offered with a shrug that felt rehearsed.

“He isn’t in the hospital wing, and he hasn’t answered any of my owls.”

A flicker of something, maybe guilt, crossed his face. “Maybe he just… needs space?”

Your gaze sharpened. “Did something happen?”

“No,” he blurted too fast. “No, not that I know of.”

“Renjun.”

“I swear, I don’t know.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes. That was answer enough, but you let it drop for now.

That evening, heading back from a prefect meeting, you passed the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room and heard voices up the corridor.

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop—until one word snapped you still.

“Jisung.”

“Snape got to him before—”

“—thought he was going to die, mate—”

“—Seungmin won’t shut up, keeps saying it wasn’t meant to go that far—”

A rush of blood pounded in your ears as you picked up bits of the hushed conversation. You edged closer and caught sight of Jay and Niki—Seungmin’s friends—half hidden in the shadows, whispering behind cupped hands.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. Your thoughts finally being confirmed; Something happened to Jisung and Seungmin was at the heart of it.

You didn’t sleep a minute that night. Every time you shut your eyes, the conversation replayed in your head until dawn bled through the curtains and you were already out of bed, fury keeping you upright.

You found Seungmin loitering outside the Great Hall, laughing too loudly at something Jay and Niki had said. You crossed the marble floor without a second thought.

“Where is he?”

The smile slipped from Seungmin’s face. He cocked his head, all polite confusion. “Sorry, where’s who?”

“Drop the act,” you said, stepping close enough that he had to tilt his chin to keep eye contact. “I heard your lackeys talking last night. Where’s Jisung?”

Jay and Niki exchanged a look but said nothing..

Seungmin gave a thin, brittle laugh. “You’re hearing ghosts, sweetheart. Why would I bother with Park?”

“A better question,” you started, voice cold, “is why you’ve been so attached to him lately. You don’t exactly run in the same circles, so what did you talk him into?”

Something sharpened in Seungmin’s eyes and he leaned in by a fraction. “Careful with what you’re accusing me of.”

“Or what?” You didn’t move. “You’ll do to me what you did to him?”

For a heartbeat his mask slipped, just long enough to confirm you’d scored a direct hit.

“I didn’t touch him,” he said, almost gently. “Whatever mess Park’s in? He walked into it himself”

“Liar.”

He dipped his head, a mock‑sympathetic smile curling at his mouth. “You think you know him so well, huh? Ever think that maybe he finally got tired of you shadowing him like a needy bitc—”

Your wand was at his throat before the last word finished leaving his lips. The corridor went silent except for your breathing.

“You know nothing about us,” you said, voice shaking with contained fury. “If he’s hurt, I’ll make sure everyone here knows exactly whose fault it is.”

Seungmin’s gaze flicked to the tip of your wand, then back to your face. A slow, poisonous smile spread. “Ask too many questions, Y/N, and you might choke on the answers.”

He stepped back with his hands raised in surrender, and strolled away. Jay and Niki followed in uneasy silence. You lowered your wand, fingers trembling with adrenaline.

His parting smile told you everything about his involvement. But you still didn’t have clear answers.

So you went to seek the other person allegedly involved. Snape.

When you descended into the dungeons, the silence was immediate and unnatural. No one ever came this far during free periods; only Professor Snape’s office existed at the end of this corridor, buried deep in the coldest, most isolated part of the castle.

Faint green flames floated midair along the walls, suspended in enchanted sconces that made no sound and cast no warmth. They pulsed gently, like breathing, and their glow warped the stone around them, making the shadows twist in ways that defied logic.

You hated it down here. Even now, in your seventh year, walking this corridor alone made your heart thud against your ribs like it wanted you to turn back.

But you were desperate.

Snape looked up slowly when you stepped into his office without knocking, his quill pausing mid-sentence on the parchment. His expression went from mildly irritated to coldly displeased in an instant.

“Is knocking a forgotten concept these days?” he said dryly.

“Professor,” you began quickly, not even trying to hide the urgency in your voice. “I need to talk to you.”

Snape set down his quill, arching a single eyebrow. “Then I suggest you start talking, and make it quick.”

You swallowed. “It’s about Jisung… Park Jisung. He’s been missing for days, and no one seems to know anything. Or at least, they’re pretending they don’t.”

His gaze sharpened and for a second, you thought you saw a flicker of caution behind his eyes before he quickly masked it.

“I fail to see why you’re bringing this to me,” he said coolly, leaning back in his chair. “Missing students are a matter for the headmaster.”

“Don’t,” you snapped before you could stop yourself. Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but you pressed forward anyway. “I overheard some students talking. They mentioned your name…said you found Jisung somewhere. Something happened to him, didn’t it?”

Snape’s eyes flashed briefly. “And you believe the idle gossip of students because…?”

“Jisung wouldn’t just disappear on his own like that. I know something happened to him,” you shot back, voice shaking. “And I believe you know exactly what.”

He watched you silently for a moment. You could feel him weighing something behind his guarded stare. Finally, he exhaled sharply.

“Miss Y/N,” he began slowly, voice heavy with thinly veiled warning, “there are things within these castle walls and beyond them that you are better off not knowing.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” you said immediately.

“On the contrary,” he replied calmly. “It is precisely my choice. And you will do well to remember that.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, frustration prickling hot behind your eyes. “Professor, please. Jisung’s my best friend. If he’s hurt… if something’s happened… I need to know.”

Something shifted in Snape’s expression at your words, almost looked like regret. When he spoke, his voice was almost gentle, which frightened you more than his scorn.

“Sometimes the worst harm you can do to someone is to keep prying.”

He paused, holding your gaze steadily. “Park is alive. That is all you need to know. Now leave.”

You stood frozen for a second, his words sinking in painfully. Jisung was alive—yet somehow, that felt worse. It meant something had happened… Something terrible.

Your jaw tightened. “You can’t keep this hidden forever,” you whispered fiercely.

He leaned forward, eyes piercing yours in the darkness of the room.

“We’ll see.”

You turned away, storming from his office without looking back. Snape hadn’t denied anything which meant there’d definitely been an incident and it was serious enough that Jisung couldn’t be seen right now. He was alive, but he was hurt, and whatever happened to him was being deliberately hidden.

A few days later

The day started like any other.

You pushed cold eggs across your plate, half listening to Renjun’s gentle attempts at conversation while the Great Hall hummed as if a student hadn’t been missing for a week. But suddenly, a hush rolled through the room.

You felt Renjun touch your arm.

“Y/N.”

You looked up, and followed his gaze toward the doors. The breath caught in your throat.

Jisung was standing just inside the oak doors.

He was bent at the shoulders, eyes flicking over the Hall as if he didn’t remember ever being there before. His robes hung wrinkled and loose and there were red scratches carved along his neck and cheek. He was paler than before and the shadows beneath his eyes made him look years older than when you’d last seen him.

Without greeting anyone, he drifted to the far end of the Hufflepuff table nowhere near his usual seat beside you.

You were on your feet before the thought finished forming.

Renjun caught your wrist. “Y/N, maybe wait—”

You shook him off and crossed the hall, every step echoing in the sudden quiet.

“Jisung?”

He flinched but kept his gaze on the empty plate. “Not now, Y/N.”

“You’ve been gone a week,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I was so worried—”

“I said not now.” The snap in his voice was sharp enough to cut. He glanced up and the terror in his eyes chilled you to the bone.

You reached for him, but he stood so abruptly your balance faltered. Without another word he strode the length of the hall and disappeared through the doors, leaving a silence that seemed to bend the rafters.

You stood frozen, heat flushing your face as dozens of eyes slid away. Renjun appeared at your elbow and talked softly. “Let him breathe.”

You nodded, though the emptiness in your chest insisted otherwise.

Jisung returned to lessons, but only in body. He answered professors in one‑word murmurs and offered classmates strained smiles that meant please don’t talk to me. At meals he sat alone, two yards of empty bench marking the space where laughter used to live.

He moved faster when he saw you in the corridors. He no longer waited outside classrooms or drifted toward your chair in the library. His robes hung loose as if he’d lost weight along with sleep, and his hands shook whenever he raised his wand. Sometimes you caught him staring through stone walls at something only he could see.

You tried with soft hellos in the common room, and owls folded with careful questions but every attempt slid off the wall he’d built overnight. The harder you reached, the farther he retreated, until all that remained between you was silence and the memory of how easily you’d once shared the same breath.

2 days later

Jisung sat on the edge of his bed, head buried in his shaking hands. His palms were marked with crescent-shaped indentations from how hard he was clenching his fists.

He kept hearing it.

The snap of branches in pitch-black darkness. The sickening crunch of claws sinking into damp earth. The guttural snarl vibrating through his bones moments before razor-sharp teeth pierced his shoulder. The thick warmth of blood soaking through his robes.

Sometimes it came to him in dreams. Other times, he’d be awake, in class, or walking down the corridor. A sound, or a smell and he was back in the forest.

Snape had said the wolfsbane would help and it had in a way. At least, it kept the full transformation at bay. But it didn’t stop the memories, it didn’t quiet the noise in his head.

His senses were too sharp now, every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of candlelight, every rustle of parchment felt louder. Sometimes he thought he could hear people’s heartbeats, smell their sweat before they entered a room. His insides constantly felt overwhelmed with unbearable energy. He felt trapped in his own skin, moments away from tearing free of himself. Sometimes he felt too much, and other times… he felt nothing at all.

Worst of all, though, was you.

He couldn't stand to be near you anymore. Not because he didn't want to, but because your scent now stirred something dangerous within him. It made his chest ache unbearably, tightened his throat with longing and thirst.

A part of him urged him to get far away from you. But another darker, more primal part whispered the opposite… to scent you, to sink into you, to lose control entirely. But he refused to drag you into his nightmare. He wouldn't allow it, no matter how much it tore at him.

He could remember most of what led him into the forest, up to a certain point.

He remembers Seungmin saying he wanted to hang out and they met near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where one of the slytherins handed out something called shadeleaf. It was an iridescent petal folded into itself like a capsule. Illegal, of course. Banned by the ministry for its hallucinogenic properties and its tendency to react differently based on magical affinity.

Jisung didn't even know why he was there. This wasn’t his scene at all. The guys were drinking something out of a flask that smelled like burnt sugar and smoke. Jay was lighting up a rolled spell-scroll with charmed embers. Niki already looked half out of it, eyes glazed.

When Seungmin started showing an interest in him a few weeks ago, Jisung had been flattered. He'd only ever made two close friends at Hogwarts, so someone new noticing him felt good. That was the only reason he went along with him. He wanted to be accepted.

“Is it safe?” Jisung asked nervously.

“Come on, park,” Niki chuckled, placing a shimmering petal on his tongue. “Don’t be a Squib.”

“What's the worst that could happen?” Seungmin grinned, handing one to him. “You trip a bit? See some weird shit? Wake up with a headache?”

Jisung hesitated, staring at the thing in his palm. It pulsed faintly with a color he didn’t have a name for.

He didn't want to do it, but they were all watching him. So he took it.

The effects hit almost instantly. His vision went fuzzy first; he could only see edges warping and light bending at impossible angles. Then his tongue tingled and throbbed, and his body felt too hot.

“Shit, this is strong,” Jay laughed.

“It’s not that bad,” Seungmin said, puffing from the smoldering scroll between his fingers.

None of them looked as affected as Jisung.

"Come on, Park," Seungmin said, draping an arm casually yet firmly around Jisung’s shoulders. "There’s a spot a little deeper in. We hang out there all the time."

Jisung couldn’t hear properly anymore, everything sounded underwater. He followed anyway.

He couldn’t say how long they walked. It felt like hours, though in reality it was probably mere minutes before his knees gave out, sending him sprawling onto the cold forest floor. His head spun violently, vision fractured.

He tried to speak, to call out but his voice didn't work, the forest blurring darker and darker until only silence and blackness swallowed him whole. He didn’t know when they left him. Just that at some point, he was alone.

The last thing he remembers was seeing bright, yellow eyes and feeling immense pain…

He woke up choking on his own blood.

His body jerked violently, lungs burning as he struggled to take in air. He felt strong hands grip his shoulders, pulling him upright with urgency. Through blurry, half-open eyes, he caught the outline of a wand glowing faintly in the dark. He barely recognized the familiar cadence of Professor Snape’s voice echoing through the haze.

“Park… Can you hear me?” Snape’s voice was clipped, edged with tension he’d never heard before.

Jisung managed only a strangled groan. He couldn’t speak, his throat was raw, filled with the metallic tang of blood. Breathing felt impossible, each gasp shallow and painful, as if his lungs were full of lead. He felt wetness soaking through his clothes and pooling beneath him. He didn't know if it was sweat or blood. Probably both, his clouded mind whispered darkly.

He was certain of only one thing—he was going to die here.

“You’ve been attacked,” Snape explained urgently, casting quick charms that rippled warmly across Jisung’s battered body. “I need you to remain as still as possible while I attempt to slow the bleeding.”

The word attacked echoed faintly in Jisung’s mind. Attacked by what? His thoughts swirled sluggishly. He couldn’t focus enough to piece anything together.

Snape pressed a small vial to his lips. The Hufflepuff hesitated, eyes flickering up weakly, his question dying soundlessly on cracked lips.

Snape seemed to understand instantly. “It’s Wolfsbane.”

The word crashed over Jisung with crushing weight, his mind snapping painfully back to clarity. Wolfsbane. A potion for…

His stomach twisted violently, nausea gripping him as realization cut sharply through the fog in his mind.

He’d been attacked by a werewolf.

It felt impossible. He wanted to deny it, wanted to believe it was just some twisted nightmare brought on by the drugs he’d foolishly taken. But the pain burning through his shoulder and the dark, grim expression on Snape’s face all made denial impossible.

With trembling lips, Jisung allowed Snape to tip the bitter potion into his mouth, grimacing weakly as he forced himself to swallow it down. It tasted vile but he had no energy left to protest.

He collapsed back against the cold forest floor, limbs heavy, vision fading once more as Snape continued muttering charms, trying to keep him tethered to consciousness.

“Stay with me, Park,” Snape’s voice commanded, sharp but oddly comforting. “You’re not going to die tonight.”

But Jisung wasn’t sure he believed him.

The darkness rushed back in, heavy and thick, pulling him under again as Snape’s frantic movements blurred and faded away.

His memory is fuzzy from then on.

One moment he was lying in the dirt, blood soaking the ground beneath him. The next, he was being levitated through narrow hallways, his body wrapped in magic and warding charms.

The room was dark, except for a wandlight hovering near the ceiling. He was placed on a dusty mattress on the floor. His skin felt stiff with blood, every muscle felt like it had been peeled apart and sewn back together with barbed wire.

He recognized the Shrieking Shack from an article he’d read once about the most haunted places on Earth. That’s where they were right now.

The shack was colder than he imagined. This was the place they used to tell ghost stories about in the common room. The place kids dared each other to peek into on Hogsmeade weekends. It smelled like old wood and dust. Snape moved through it like he’d been here before—like this was routine.

He cast a dozen silent spells before even speaking. Layers of enchantments wrapped around the rotting floorboards, the shattered furniture, the warped windows.

“You must take this Wolfsbane every day,” Snape said curtly, setting a tray on the floor beside the creaking mattress. “Or I’ll force it down your throat.”

Jisung didn’t answer. Snape paused, studying him with that unreadable stare.

“You’ll stay here until the full moon passes,” he said. “You’ll say nothing when you return.”

Jisung blinked slowly, the weight of it sinking into his bones. ‘When you return… or If’.

Then Snape turned to go but he stopped in the doorway.

“You are not the first,” he said, voice low. “It will be painful but you’ll survive.”

And with that, he was gone.

The silence was the most unbearable part of being in the Shack. Not even the pain or the way Jisung’s bones ached like they were preparing to snap apart. It was the silence that made him feel like he’d go crazy any minute.

He tried to sleep, but whenever he tried he’d blink awake to phantom sensations of fur brushing his skin, fangs pushing against his teeth, and a sweet scent of honey curling through the cracks in the floorboards.

It wasn’t the full moon yet but his body was already responding to it. The Wolfsbane kept him from changing completely, but it didn’t stop everything. His skin itched as if it was being stretched and he realized he’d grown a few inches taller overnight. His eyes were also becoming sensitive to even the faintest flickers of light, and they were a dark shade of yellow that glowed whenever the moonlight hit them.

It might’ve been on the second night or the third, he couldn’t remember well, but Snape came in and told him that the full moon would be at its peak and he would feel the effects more despite the potion.

Jisung lasted about two hours before the pain began. It wasn’t sudden. It crept in slowly, like frostbite, numbing his fingers first. Then his wrists and his legs. He thought maybe this was it—maybe he’d just fade out before anything happened. Then it spread up his spine and into his skull, where it bloomed behind his eyes like fire.

The pain was so much bigger than his body. It burned and it shredded him, as if his bones were being broken and rebuilt at the same time, like his skin wasn’t big enough to hold him anymore. He scratched at his own arms until his nails cracked and bled. It got so unbearable he slammed his head against the wall hoping he would knock himself out but he couldn’t.

He clawed at the walls, tore at the floorboards and bit into the wood until his mouth filled with splinters and blood. He howled until his throat tore raw. And still, it didn’t stop

He lost count of how many times his limbs broke and reformed. His jaw cracked open so wide he thought it might dislocate, teeth pushing through bloody gums. He was sobbing or at least, he thought he was. It was hard to tell over the sound of his own growling.

The transformation stopped halfway and started again the next day. He never fully transformed but he felt the pain of his body trying to fight against it every single time.

He stopped counting days after that.

Hunger and exhaustion tangled with grief and fear until all that was left was the throb of his body and the steady hum of magic in his blood. He didn’t think about the pain anymore. Or the bite. Or Seungmin. Or the forest.

Mostly, he thought about you.

He tried not to, but you wouldn’t leave him. Your face, your laugh, your voice, it all circled him like the moonlight through the slats in the wall.

The way the thought of you made his body burn now.The way your honeyed scent used to be comforting but now made his lungs tighten and his mouth water. He didn’t understand why he was feeling this way.

On the seventh day he woke up soaked in sweat, shivering uncontrollably. The moon had passed. He could feel it in the way the ache in his bones was retreating and his mind was clearer.

Snape arrived at dawn.

He said nothing about the mess of blood and broken furniture in the room. He just studied Jisung who was sitting slumped against the wall. He pulled out his wand and started casting diagnostic spells over his body.

“You’ll return to class tomorrow,” he said. “If anyone asks, you were ill.”

Jisung didn’t move.

Snape continued impassively. “You are not to mention the Wolfsbane, the forest, or what you’ve become. Do you understand?”

Jisung finally looked at him, barely able to lift his head properly. “That’s it? Just… go back like nothing happened?” His voice came out hoarse.

Snape’s eyes narrowed faintly. “No. That is not it.”

He stepped closer.

“You will take your potion every cycle, no matter what. And you will not seek out the other boys involved, nor will you retaliate.”

Jisung’s jaw clenched. He wanted nothing more than to rip Seungmin’s throat apart, but he knew that was just the wolf thinking.

“And most importantly, you will stay away from her.” Snape said, his voice dropping at the last word.

Jisung sat up sharply, knowing exactly who he was referring to. “Why?”

The professor’s expression didn’t soften. “Because the wolf doesn’t care that she’s your friend. It doesn’t care about boundaries or guilt or decency. It responds to need.”

Jisung’s chest tightened, throat dry.

“The first few transformations are the worst,” Snape continued, pacing slowly now. “Your body hasn’t adjusted. Your instincts haven’t aligned with your mind. You will feel urges…violent, territorial, carnal urges that you can’t control. Those urges will turn into fixations... Especially for someone you already had feelings for”

“I don’t–” Jisung started.

“You don’t need to lie, Mr. Park.” Snape cut him off, “I am a very skilled Legilimens, you know? I can see your mind and I see how it’s filled with thoughts of her.”

Jisung looked away, jaw trembling slightly. Snape stopped in front of him.

“Her scent” he said quietly. “It already triggers you, doesn’t it?”

Jisung didn’t answer. That sweet scent of honey and parchment that he kept smelling through the rotting floors and the dried blood, he figured out it was you. It reminded him of that night at the Astronomy tower.The Shrieking Shack might be a few miles away from Hogwarts castle but he could still somehow smell you.

“You feel it in your chest, in your teeth, in your gut” Snape said, voice like a scalpel. “You want her.”

Jisung’s breathing picked up.

“That is the beginning of your rut.”

“Rut?” he repeated, barely above a whisper.

Snape nodded. “It’s a biological response. Wolves enter a heightened state after the full moon cycle. Some experience it more than others, especially younger ones who’ve recently turned”

Jisung’s heart was pounding now, nauseatingly fast.

“You may feel sudden impulses or worse you might want to act on those impulses.”

He felt sick. “I’m not— I would never hurt her.”

“I’m not concerned about your intentions,” Snape said coldly. “I’m concerned about your self control. A werewolf’s instincts are hard to resist and if you lose control, Mr. Park… She will pay the price.”

“So stay away from her,” Snape said with finality. “It’s the only way to keep you both safe.”

Jisung sat there shaking, the weight of what he’d become pressing down on his spine like a second body.

He couldn’t go back. Not like this.

“I’m not ready,” he said hoarsely.

Snape didn’t turn. He stood by the window, watching the last of the night dissolve into grey morning.

“You won’t ever be,” he said simply.

Jisung clenched his jaw. “I don’t want to see her. Or anyone. I—I can’t trust myself.”

“You must learn to live with your current situation.”

“Why can’t I just… stay here?”

Snape turned at that. His eyes were cold and calculating.

“Because people are already asking questions,” he said. “Students, staff. Your friend.”

Jisung’s heart stuttered at that.

“She’s worried,” Snape continued. “Rightfully so. You disappeared without warning. She’s been to my office several times. She’s even confronted the student who got you into this predicament, pulled out a wand at him. I don’t know how much longer I can keep her from endangering herself trying to find you.”

Jisung lowered his head, guilt flooding every nerve.

“Rumors are spreading, too.” Snape added. “A few students are saying they saw you with Mr. Lee that night. Some think you were injured, others that you’re in trouble. You’ve already been gone too long.”

Jisung swallowed hard. “So I just walk into the Great Hall acting like I’m normal?”

Snape didn’t blink. “Yes.”

His stomach turned. “And if someone sees the scars?”

“You’ll say you had an accident in the forest.”

“And you’ll back me up?” he asked bitterly.

“If I must.”

Jisung exhaled shakily. “And Y/N? We—we’re always together, she’ll find it weird if I suddenly cut her off”

“You’ll keep your distance regardless. If she asks questions, you deflect. If she pushes, you walk away. You’re not safe around her”

He bit his lip hard, so hard it almost bled. “She’ll know something’s wrong.”

“Then hope she’s smart enough not to get too close.”

The doors to the Great Hall had never felt so heavy. Jisung stood in front of them for nearly five minutes, staring at the carved wood. Behind them, he heard laughter, casual conversation, normalcy.

He wasn’t ready.

But Snape’s words echoed in his skull.

"You’ve already been gone too long."

He took a breath and pushed them open.

All the noise overcame him like a wave, the plates clinking, voices overlapping, owls fluttering through the rafters. It all felt loud in a way it hadn’t before, as if someone had turned the world’s volume up just to punish him.

He kept his head low and his pace steady. One foot in front of the other. Just like Snape said. Act like nothing happened.

He could feel all eyes on him almost instantly. First years stopping mid-bite and a few seventh-years whispering across the Gryffindor table. Someone, he thought maybe Jay, froze with a goblet halfway to his lips.

And then you. He didn’t have to loo, he felt the second your eyes landed on him, making something twist deep in his chest. That same unbearable tightness he’d felt in the shack whenever he let himself think about you. About your laugh echoing across the common room. About your fingers brushing his when you passed him a quill and how it used to mean nothing, and now it meant everything.

He knew you’d notice the hollow look in his eyes, the bruises blooming like violets on his neck and the bandage peeking out from beneath the collar of his robes. You’d find it weird that he didn’t sit near you, didn’t even glance your way. But he tried to ignore those thoughts and just focus on the plate in front of him even though his stomach turned at the smell of food.

You stared at him from your seat. It took you several long, painful seconds to process what you were seeing.

Jisung—your best friend, who’d been missing a week without a word—just walked into breakfast looking like he’d seen hell and barely made it back out.

His robes were loose like he’d lost weight and his eyes were ringed with dark circles, exhaustion written clearly in every line of his face. There were cuts visible, thin red marks down his jaw, a deeper scar stretching beneath his collar, fading bruises on the backs of his hands. His hair was tangled, his posture painfully tense.

You felt a sick sense of relief after seeing him, despite his appearance. But most of all you felt angry. You felt everything all at once, a hot rush of emotions almost too intense to handle.

Jisung avoided your gaze completely. He picked at the food in front of him, not really eating, just pushing it around his plate.

He felt you approaching before you spoke. Your scent hit him first, warm and familiar, yet unbearably intense. His jaw clenched tight, fingers curling into fists beneath the table. He didn’t look up even when you stood near him. He simply couldn’t trust himself to see your face and not fall apart.

You called his name quietly and he almost cried at the sound of your voice. But he didn’t move, not even when you stepped closer.

Slowly, he raised his head, gaze finally meeting yours You went still, eyes widening just slightly. He knew instantly what you saw—the darkness in his stare, the shadowed bruises, the fresh scars. The way he looked wrong.

He couldn’t bear your pained eyes, so he snapped at you. Something he’d never do before, but Snape told him to deflect. So he yelled and walked away, trying to ignore how hurt you looked.

This was what Snape meant. You’re not safe around her.

You couldn’t eat after that. Not with the way he’d looked at you.

Jisung had always been soft-spoken, a little awkward, a little shy—but never cold. And you didn’t need a Healer to tell you that whatever he’d gone through wasn’t some stomach bug or routine cold. You weren’t stupid.

You saw the tremble in his fingers when he reached for his fork. You saw the way he flinched when someone behind him dropped their goblet. You saw the bruises just under his collar and the bandages.

Something happened to him.

You sat back down but your heart was still up at the other end of the table with him.

“I need to know,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Renjun.

He sighed. “Y/N…”

“Don’t say it,” you snapped quietly. “Don’t say I should give him time. Don’t say he’ll come around. I know him, Renjun. He’s scared. You don’t just disappear for a week and come back with claw marks on you neck.”

Renjun went quiet.

That silence told you more than anything else.

“Okay, I’m tired of this… You know something, don’t you?”

He avoided your gaze. “It’s not my place to say.”

That hurt. “Is it mine to not know?”

You stood abruptly, grabbing your bag. “If no one’s going to tell me the truth, I’ll figure it out myself.”

Over the next few days, you tried to get close to Jisung in every way you could think of. You waited for him outside the greenhouses after Herbology, hoping to catch him alone. You switched seats in Charms just to be nearer, and sometimes you even loitered in the corridor after Potions, telling yourself you’d walk him back to the common room.

Despite your best efforts, he continually slipped away.

He offered awkward excuses about having somewhere to be, or sometimes said nothing at all and just walked past. Most of the time, he barely managed to look at you, as if doing so caused him physical pain. This wasn’t an icy kind of avoidance, nor was it tinged with anger. It felt worse than either of those possibilities—it was as though he found everything about you unbearable, but still couldn’t muster the energy to explain why.

Once, you nearly cornered him after lunch. He was leaning against the corridor wall outside the Great Hall, head tipped back, looking utterly exhausted. In that unguarded moment, your eyes met his, and you thought you glimpsed your old friend beneath the tension he carried. Summoning the nerve you’d been collecting all day, you stepped forward.

“Can we talk?” you asked softly.

For a split second, it seemed like he might say yes. His mouth opened as though he wanted to form the words but then Professor Snape’s voice echoed from behind you.

“Miss Y/N.”

You turned around to find Snape standing there, unruffled as always, robes hanging in sharp lines. He inclined his head in an almost polite manner yet still carried the weight of an order.

“I need you to come to the dungeons,” he said in a measured tone. “There are ingredients that require sorting. I trust your handwriting is still legible.”

You tried to protest, but as soon as you turned back, Jisung had vanished. From that moment on, it became a pattern: every time you got too close to him, Snape appeared with some new task for you—an extended office hour to discuss a mistake in an essay, a request to reorganize outdated potions, or a perfectly timed interruption just as you were about to speak with Jisung privately.

On a rational level, you knew it was ridiculous to think Snape was orchestrating this on purpose; however, it was impossible to ignore how consistently he managed to swoop in whenever you finally had a chance to approach Jisung alone. You didn’t know why your professor was so intent on calling you away, and truthfully it wasn’t the main issue gripping your mind.

All you could focus on was Jisung.

He looked so different—worn down, scared, ashamed, like he was carrying a secret that weighed on his shoulders every moment of the day. Every time you tried to reach him, he withdrew further. It broke your heart, because you weren’t trying to fix him or make him talk if he didn’t want to. You just wanted to be there, to stand by him instead of watching from a distance.

Yet no matter how hard you tried, the boy who used to seek you out for study breaks and late-night jokes now seemed determined to avoid you. And the more distance he forced, the more you wanted to find out what had really happened, because this Jisung—the one who flinched when you spoke and looked away when you caught his eye—felt like a stranger wearing your best friend’s face.

It was late, far too late for anyone else to be out of bed. So when you heard commotion up in the Astronomy Tower during one of your prefect rounds, you instinctively climbed the stairs to inspect, your wand held loosely in your fingertips.

The castle had felt too quiet lately. Ever since Jisung came back, everything had been off balance. You’d even taken extra patrols just to keep your mind busy. You weren’t expecting to find anything up there except maybe a few rowdy owls.

But when you pushed open the heavy wooden door to the Astronomy Tower, you froze at the sight.

Jisung was there, hunched against the railing, his robes half-open, hands gripping the stone balustrade so tightly you saw his knuckles pale even from across the room.

"Jisung?" you said softly, hesitant.

His head snapped up instantly, and your breath caught in your throat.

His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, irises shimmering unnaturally gold beneath the moonlight. Sweat gleamed across his pale forehead, his hair was messy and damp, sticking to his face. His breathing came harsh and fast, almost feral.

You took a cautious step forward. "Jisung, are you okay?"

"Stay back," he choked out, voice strained and rough. "Don't come closer."

But you saw the tremble in his arms, the feverish brightness in his eyes. He looked sick. He looked scared.

"What’s wrong? Let me help—"

"No." He shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut as if fighting himself. "You can't—I'm not—"

He trailed off, stumbling forward as if pulled by some invisible force toward you. He was breathing heavily, lips parted as he seemed to taste the air between you.

"Jisung—"

Your voice cut off as his gaze snapped sharply to yours again, something raw and dangerous flaring in his eyes. It sent a shiver racing down your spine, and you instinctively backed away half a step.

"Leave," he hissed, the word barely recognizable through his clenched teeth. His whole body seemed rigid with tension. "Please, leave before—"

He broke off with a gasp, doubling over as though a wave of pain had just wracked through him.

You rushed forward instinctively, panic clouding your caution. "Jisung!"

He moved faster than your eyes could track. One moment he was curled into himself and the next he had you pinned against the cold stone floor, wrists pressed tightly beside your head, his face inches from yours, breath hot and erratic against your neck.

"Ji—" Your voice cracked. "What are you—"

He inhaled deeply against your throat, his body trembling against yours. "God, you smell so—" His voice was ragged and broken, almost a sob. "I can't—I can't stop it, I—"

He pressed closer instinctively, hips pinning you hard against the floor. His lips grazed roughly against your neck, sharp teeth skimming dangerously along your pulse point. Your heart slammed against your ribs, fear tangled confusingly with something hot in your lower belly.

"Jisung, please," you whispered, half plea, half gasp. "You're scaring me."

Those words seemed to pierce through whatever haze had overtaken him. He jerked back, eyes wide, suddenly horrified at himself. His gaze flicked down to your wrists, already bruising beneath his grip, and he stumbled away as if burned.

"No," he whispered, horror and guilt bleeding openly into his expression. "I didn't—I wouldn't—"

You stayed frozen on the floor, chest heaving as you watched the agony twist across his face.

"What’s happening to you?" you breathed, sitting up slowly.

He stared at you, anguished, hands still trembling at his sides.

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly. "I—I'm so sorry."

Before you could say another word, he turned sharply and bolted down the stairs, leaving you alone, shaking, and terrified.

The Hufflepuff common room was quiet when you walked in. Most students had gone to bed, but Renjun sat alone on the couch.

You didn’t give him a chance to pretend he didn’t see you coming.

“You’re going to tell me what happened.”

Renjun sighed, not looking away from the fire. “Y/N…”

“No,” you said, standing in front of him. “No more deflecting. You’ve known something since the day he came back.”

He rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know the whole story.”

“Then tell me what you know.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you really think I’m going to stop asking? You’ve seen him. You know he’s not okay. And no one’s saying anything, and I’m losing my mind because—” your voice cracked, just slightly— “because that’s my best friend.”

Renjun’s shoulders slumped. He looked like he aged ten years in a second.

“Seungmin and his friends... they planned something,” he said quietly.

Your chest went still.

“I only heard a conversation between Professor Sprout and Professor Snape,” he continued. “But apparently they were hanging out near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Seungmin gave Jisung something. A potion or… some kind of enchanted hallucinogen.”

Renjun looked up at you, guilt heavy in his eyes even though he hadn’t been there. “They led him into the forest, Y/N… And something attacked him.”

You stared at him, voice thick with dread. “Something?”

Renjun hesitated. “Snape... Snape was the one who found him.”

You felt cold all over. “What was it?”

He looked away.

“Renjun. What was it.”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“A werewolf.”

A gasp got stuck in your throat.

“I don’t know how bad it was,” Renjun said softly. “But apparently Professor Snape had to lock him up for a week while he went through the transformation.”

Tears stung behind your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to believe it myself….”

You sank into the chair across from him, everything too heavy to stand.

“A werewolf,” you whispered.

He nodded and suddenly, so many things clicked at once. Suddenly it all made sense.

After Renjun told you, you couldn’t sleep.

You sat in your bed staring at the ceiling until the sun started bleeding through the windows, and then you slipped out of the dorms without a word. You went straight to the library and stayed there all morning.

Madam Pince gave you a curious glance when you asked to go into the Restricted Section after looking through every other possible book in the regular shelves and finding nothing of value. You dropped Professor Babbling’s name as your excuse—said you were doing independent research for an Arithmancy paper. She didn’t ask further, just handed you a list of approved titles and waved you through.

You didn’t touch a single one of them. Instead, you searched for everything you could find on werewolves.

They were mostly old, dusty books with creaking spines and brittle pages. Most seemed to be more folklore than facts but you found a text buried near the bottom of a shelf, half its title burned off the spine.

Lycanthropy and Lunar Madness: A Clinical Compendium.

The chapters were brutal. You read about the first changes, the muscle pain, the sensory overload. The way magic in the blood would flare, fight back, burn from the inside out. You read about the violence, how the mind slips away when the full moon peaks, how instincts override everything else.

But what caught your atention the most was this:

“In cases of recent infection, the afflicted may experience an attraction fixation, often triggered by proximity to a familiar person. This response is especially common in individuals whose first transformation occurs during adolescence or early adulthood.

The instinct is not always sexual, but it is always possessive. The werewolf’s senses recognize the person as a source of comfort or danger. When comfort, the fixation can lead to obsessive behavior, rut-like symptoms, and irrational aggression if the person is perceived as threatened or unattainable. When danger, it can lead to avoidance or attack. Scent is the most common anchor. Once imprinted, it is nearly impossible for the werewolf to ignore.”

Your throat tightened. You re-read the paragraph five times.

It made sense, too much sense. His distance, his flinching, the way he couldn’t look at you anymore.

Your scent.

You remembered how he looked at you that morning in the Great Hall. How he barely breathed when you stood too close and how he wouldn’t meet your eyes when you asked what happened. And last night in the Atronomy Tower, he said you smelled good and it looked like he wanted to eat you alive.

You closed the book with shaky hands and then checked out four more. You didn’t stop reading until your eyes blurred. You didn’t eat or go to class.

By the time the sky outside the window started darkening, you were sitting at a corner table, surrounded by open tomes and loose parchment covered in frantic notes—everything you could find about Wolfsbane, Snape’s potion-making reputation, the legal status of werewolves in magical Britain, and every known case of student infection in the last fifty years.

You turned the page again.

Magical Intervention

“Wolfsbane Potion, taken daily during the week of the full moon, prevents transformation but does not erase the instinctual response. It is crucial that young werewolves are supervised during their first year of turning, especially if they experience early signs of rut.

If left unmonitored, the werewolf may become a threat not only to others—but to themselves.”

You found another book next. Not on lycanthropy, but on magical trauma. It mentioned Professor Snape by name.

“A known expert in dark creatures and cursed bloodlines, Professor Severus Snape has played a role in the treatment and monitoring of several underage werewolf cases, particularly after the war.”

You sat there for a long time, staring at the page, your mind buzzing. Snape knew, he was involved and he wasn’t just keeping the secret, he was managing it.

Which meant whatever happened to Jisung—Snape had seen it before. And he’d chosen not to tell you a thing.

You sat there in silence, your hands numb on the table. Snape had told him to stay away from you, that much was obvious now. But no one had told you what being near him could do.

You weren’t afraid of him. But for the first time, you understood why he was of you.

You left the library as the sky was starting to pale with early morning light, the forbidden books still echoing in your thoughts. You didn’t bother going to class again. You went directly to Snape’s office instead and waited there. When he finally arrived, he paused mid-step at the sight of you.

“Miss Y/N,” he said flatly. “You are not scheduled to meet with me.”

“No,” you said, stepping forward. “But I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth, sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “I beg your par—”

“Did you know?” you cut in, voice trembling with restrained rage. “Did you know what would happen to him?”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“I know that Jisung got attacked by a werewolf.”

Snape stilled.

“I went to the restricted section,” you continued. “I know what werewolves go through. I know about the rut cycle. The way someone can trigger it just by being close… Did you know it would be me?”

He didn’t speak, and that silence was an answer.

You took another step toward him. “You told him to stay away, didn’t you?”

Still silent.

You laughed bitterly. “What, were you going to wait until I ended up on the courtyard floor with his teeth in my neck before you decided to warn me?”

“Lower your voice,” Snape said sharply, eyes flicking toward the empty corridor.

“No,” you snapped. “You don’t get to tell me what to do now when you left me in the dark about everything.”

“He is alive and you’re safe because of me,” he said sharply. “Do not mistake silence for neglect.”

“He’s barely alive,” you fired back. “He’s walking around like a ghost and you expect me to believe that’s your idea of help?”

“You think you want the truth but the truth is messy and dangerous. And the truth, Miss Y/N…” he stalked closer to you, almost menacingly “… is that your friend is not who he was anymore.”

“I know that!” you shouted, voice cracking. “But you made him think he was dangerous.”

“He is.”

“No,” you said fiercely. “He’s just scared and you’re feeding it.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “You have no idea what a werewolf in rut is capable of.”

“I do now.” You stepped closer again, voice trembling. “I’m not stupid or fragile. And I’m not going to stay away just because you think it’s better that way.”

“Miss Y/N—”

“No,” you snapped. “You can’t “protect me” by locking him away like some creature. He’s not a danger to me. What’s dangerous is isolating him, making him ashamed of something he didn’t choose.”

Snape’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“And what will you do, then?” he asked. “If he loses control?”

“I’ll help him.” You exhaled, hands trembling. “I’m not afraid of him and he needs someone who isn’t.”

There was a long pause. Snape looked at you with something like pitty. Then he spoke, carefully.

“Then you’d better learn how to handle what’s coming.”

Knowing about Jisung’s condition didn’t bring the relief you thought it would. If anything, it made everything worse. Because now you understood that there was almost nothing you could do to save him from himself. And, like Professor Snape said, the safest option was to stay far away.

And you tried, but it was so hard.

You'd find yourself turning to complain about Professor Binns's endless lectures, only to realize it wasn't Jisung beside you, but Renjun—quiet, studious Renjun who never dared utter a complaint in class.

Or when you walked toward the kitchens out of habit, thinking maybe you'd sweet-talk the elves into some pumpkin tarts, only to remember it was Jisung who always did the charming.

Or when the night sky looked especially clear and you found yourself wanting to stargaze but realizing no one else knew how to trace constellations on your palm with their fingertip. And you couldn’t even remember their names without Jisung pointing them out to you.

Renjun tried. He filled the empty seat at meals, nodded at the right moments when you rambled, even agreed to sneak out once or twice. But he wasn’t Jisung. He didn’t know your weird inside jokes, didn’t lean his head on your shoulder when he got sleepy, didn’t touch your wrist when you got nervous.

You missed him so deeply it ached.

So, when you saw him slipping out of the common room one night you followed him without a second thought.

He moved quickly across the grounds, his hooded shape skimming the moonlit grass. You jogged to keep up, keeping low behind hedges and statues until he stopped beside the Whomping Willow. Your breath caught as he pressed a knot at the roots and the tree froze mid‑sway, its branches locking in eerie stillness. Then, an entrance yawned open.

You hesitated. Every instinct screamed that going after him was a terrible idea. But the thought of him hurting or worse, hurting alone was too much to bear.

So you followed.

The tunnel led you into the Shrieking Shack. A chill raced down your spine the moment you stepped inside. Rot and mildew clung to the walls, the floorboards seemed like they would give way with each step, and it smelled like old nightmares in there. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from gagging but you kept going, following the sounds of his ragged breathing upstairs into a dusty room.

You opened the door cautiously, barely an inch—but before you could fully register what was happening, Jisung lunged. He grabbed your arm, yanking you roughly inside and pinning you to the sagging mattress with a strength that startled you.

"Jisung—!" you gasped.

He loomed over you, eyes wild, glowing gold in the darkness. His expression was pained, almost feral.

"What—are you doing here?" he growled through gritted teeth. His voice was deep and barely recognizable.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed. “I—I was worried. You missed all your classes…”

Something dark flared in his gaze, and he dropped his head, panting harshly against your throat. He inhaled deeply, shuddering as he pressed closer instinctively. Your breath hitched sharply, your body reacting involuntarily to his closeness.

"You shouldn't have come," he whispered brokenly, hands trembling where they gripped your wrists.

You swallowed, feeling his hips press involuntarily against yours and realizing exactly what was happening.

"Your rut," you whispered breathlessly, realization flooding you. "It's started, hasn't it?"

A helpless whimper slid from his throat as his hips rocked against you once more, his erection pressing unmistakably through his trousers. The desperate sound he made sent heat pooling in your stomach, despite the fear and confusion swirling inside you.

“You smell so fucking… good” He let out another ragged noise, and you reached out instinctively, resting a trembling hand against his cheek. His skin burned under your palm. He looked almost delirious, golden eyes flickering between human fear and something more feral.

You’d spent the past week reading about werewolves and their ruts, absorbing every detail you could from hidden texts and restricted tomes. You knew that once the rut hit, the urge for physical intimacy would become nearly unbearable. You also knew it was dangerous for you to be near him like this.

But as you stared at your best friend, trembling and half-broken with need, your heart clenched. You couldn’t just walk away.

“Jisung,” you said carefully, your voice shaking. “Did you take the Wolfsbane?”

He shook his head, eyes squeezing shut. “I don’t know… I think I didn’t—” He broke off, a pained groan tearing from his throat as he rocked forward, hips searching for contact.

Swallowing hard, you remembered the passage in the book. How an afflicted werewolf needed a trusted partner to help ease the rut’s consuming effects.

It felt like your heart was in your mouth.

“You—” he gasped, voice faint. “You can’t stay. I—if I hurt you—”

You cupped his other cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours. “You won’t,” you promised, though a part of you wasn’t entirely sure.

“Y/N,” he groaned, hips rutting forward again. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now, I swear—”

“I want to help you,” you said softly. “Please let me.”

His pupils dilated immediately and he let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming but despite your own hammering pulse, you didn’t draw away.

Because somewhere deep inside, you knew this was the only way to help him.

His grip on your waist was bruising, claws just barely retracted. His body was sweat-slicked and trembling, panting through gritted teeth as he pressed himself flush against you.

“I warned you,” he growled, voice shaky with restraint. “I told you to leave.”

You pulled him closer up and felt how he shook under your touch. “You can have me”

He didn’t wait another second. Your clothes were suddenly nothing, the fabric ripped under his desperate hands. Your skin was bare before you had time to register the sound of seams tearing. His mouth found your throat instinctively, tongue tasting your pulse before he bit.

You winced at the pain and his hips rutted against your thigh, hard and frantic, his cock felt thick and straining through his trousers. He was whining soft, broken sounds between gritted teeth, like each second without you wrapped around him was tearing him open from the inside.

“You smell—fuck, you smell so good,” he gasped into your skin, humping against you harder. “I need—i need to be inside, I need—”

You spread your legs, breathless, head spinning from the force of it all. “I’m here, Sungie.”

He didn’t prep you, didn’t pause for a second—just spit on his fingers and shoved them inside you hard and fast. Stretching you wide while whispering obscenities you couldn’t even make sense of.

“So fucking tight—fuck—gonna ruin you—fill you up, knot you, make sure no one else ever gets to—”

You didn’t even realize he’d taken his cock out until you felt him line himself up with shaking hands, barely getting the tip in before he snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one brutal thrust.

You cried out and Jisung growled, slamming his hand beside your head, forehead pressed to yours, golden eyes glazed over.

“Mine,” he gasped. “Fuck… Mine. Mine. Mine—”

Suddenly, he shoved your knees up, pressing them tightly to your chest as his hips snapped forward, rough and desperate. You cried out sharply, feeling stretched too wide, overwhelmed by the rawness of him filling you again and again. His teeth dragged harshly against your throat, marking you repeatedly, as if he couldn't bear the thought of anyone mistaking you for anything but his.

You sobbed beneath him, your body caught between pain and a pleasure that blurred into something unbearable. Part of you wondered numbly if it would have changed anything if you'd told Jisung it was your first time—if it would've made him pause, slow down, be gentler. But you knew it wouldn't have mattered. He wasn't fully himself, and even if some part of him wanted to stop, he couldn't.

You felt it then, the swelling at his base. His knot beginning to expand, stretching your entrance wider with every punishing thrust. Panic mixed with need, your mind spinning as your walls spasmed around him.

“Gonna knot you,” he panted desperately, voice breaking as he slammed into you harder. “Can’t stop—fuck, you feel so perfect—gonna keep you like this forever—”

He thrust deeply one last time and locked himself inside, his knot catching and sealing him within you. You screamed, body jolting at the sudden fullness, the pressure almost too much. He shuddered violently above you, his cum flooding hot and deep, twitching through aftershocks that made your thighs quake and your vision blur.

You barely had time to gasp a breath before his knot began to soften, still pulsing faintly inside you. But Jisung didn’t stop, not even for a moment.

Before you could recover, he flipped you roughly onto your stomach, the mattress creaking sharply beneath you. He pressed into you again slowly, his breathing ragged and hot against your sweat-damp back. You trembled uncontrollably beneath him, arms shaking, barely able to keep yourself upright.

“Jisung, wait—” your voice broke, a thin plea lost beneath the rasp of his breath.

But he didn’t acknowledge your begging. One hand pinned your hip firmly, the other flattened between your shoulders, forcing you down into the sheets until you couldn’t move. You felt the ache building again as he pushed inside you once more, pushing mercilessly against your walls. Your thighs burned, your body instinctively arching to escape the overstimulation, but he wouldn’t allow you to shift away.

The moment he felt how wet and open you still were, the last shred of his restraint shattered. His rhythm turned frantic, his hips slamming into yours so fiercely the air was knocked from your lungs with every brutal stroke.

You moaned helplessly into the sheets, fingers clawing at the mattress as your body surrendered. He wasn’t speaking now, wasn’t asking if you were okay—all you heard were harsh, ragged sounds torn from his throat, desperate noises so primal and raw they made your skin burn hot with shameful need.

His movements grew rougher, your bodies locked in a rhythm that erased any remaining thought from your mind. Your senses narrowed until all you knew was the brutal heat between your thighs and the ache of him stretching you. You took every thrust, helpless to stop, unable to do anything but accept the ruthless force of his body on yours.

His teeth bit sharply into the back of your shoulder, fangs scraping against your skin until you gasped in pain. His grip tightened, fingers bruising your hips as he pounded into you without mercy, branding you with every brutal snap of his hips.

With one final thrust, he buried himself impossibly deep, and you felt the knot swell again—filling you, stretching you beyond limits as he locked himself inside with a guttural growl.

His whole body jerked, cock throbbing violently as he spilled into you again. It was so much cum it leaked around the thick swell of his knot, your walls clenching tight, helpless to hold it all in. He held still, panting, hands trembling as he stayed buried in you, locked and pulsing.

He stayed inside you for what felt like forever, body trembling from release, your muscles fluttering weakly around him. His breath came in uneven bursts against your skin.

But even then, you could feel that he wasn’t finished.

He rutted again and let out a feral sound low in his throat, one that sounded more like a growl than a moan. And then he was moving just enough to slip free with a wet sound that made both of you shiver.

His hands moved to your waist, lifting you. He dragged you onto your back again, spread your thighs wide, and settled between them with a single-minded hunger that made your whole body pulse with anticipation.

His gaze dropped the moment he pushed back in and he groaned, eyes locked between your legs with an obsessive intensity. Your walls clenched around him as his cock slid in with zero resistance. His breath hitched, and he stopped for just a second.

His mouth parted when he saw the shape of him pushing inside you, deep enough to press against your belly, the bulge rising with every brutal thrust. He pressed his palm against it and let out a wrecked moan. The sight of his cock inside your belly driving him halfway mad.

“Fuck,” he choked. “That's me? inside you?”

You tried to answer, but all that came out was a gasp as he rocked into you harder.

He watched your stomach move with every stroke, how your cunt took all of him, again and again, walls fluttering around his cock like your body was desperate to keep him.

He was mesmerized. Staring with wide, hungry eyes as hips snapped forward with more force. One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other pressing to your lower belly as he kept thrusting, rougher this time, watching the bulge disappear and return with every movement.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “you’re made for this—fuck—you’re made to take me like this—”

You could feel the knot swelling again, dragging harder against your soaked, overstretched entrance, until your legs started to shake. He braced both hands on either side of your hips, growled deep in his chest, and slammed forward. The knot forced its way in with a brutal stretch that made your eyes roll back.

His whole body jerked, head falling forward as a strangled moan left his lips. His cock twitched violently, knot fully buried, and you felt the rush of his cum flooding you again, deeper this time, deeper than anything had ever been.

His eyes were still locked on your lower stomach, wide and blown out with awe. The bulge in your belly pulsed with each twitch of his knot, round and taut with the sheer amount he’d pumped into you

“Look at that,” he whispered, almost dazed. “Look what I did to you.”

He reached out again, fingertips brushing against your stomach and the possessiveness in his voice made your body clench all over again.

“I'm inside you.”

He blinked, his eyes flickering to your face as he really looked at you for the first time.

You were trembling, bruised, and barely able to keep your legs from shaking. Your eyes were glassy, your body completely spent beneath him. And something in him seemed to return.

His hands gentled against your skin as he eased out of you slowly, knot slipping free with an aching stretch that made you whimper. You gasped at the sudden emptiness, but he didn’t leave you long. He kissed your thigh once, softly, as if in apology, and then lowered himself between your legs.

You barely had the strength to lift your head. “Ji—what are you doing…”

But he didn’t answer. Just held your thighs gently in his hands, spreading them open again but this time with reverence, not greed.

Then he licked a single, languid drag of his tongue that made your hips twitch weakly. He groaned low in his throat at the taste of you.

You whimpered, the oversensitivity almost unbearable but his hands kept you grounded. Thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips, mouth moving with an aching kind of care. He sucked gently at your clit, tongue flicking in slow passes, easing the pain into something warmer.

You threaded trembling fingers through his hair, tugging gently.

His mouth grew more desperate by the second, tongue dipping lower and teasing at your entrance where his cum was still leaking out. He groaned at the taste, sucking softly, messy and slow, like he couldn’t get enough of it. Of you.

He buried himself there with his nose pressed into your skin, mouth drinking you. You let out a soft cry, hips twitching against his face, and his grip tightened just enough to hold you still as he circled your clit again, tender but insistent.

“I need to make it better,” he murmured into your skin, voice hoarse and reverent. “Let me—please…”

You didn’t answer but the way your legs shook around his head told him everything. So he stayed there—worshipping the mess he made, tongue moving slow and devoted, lips soft and endless. He lost himself in you.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the pain.

It was deep and dull at first, but the moment you shifted, it sharpened—radiating through your thighs, your lower back, your hips. Your skin felt hot, stretched too thin in some places, sore in others. You winced as you tried to sit up, limbs trembling slightly from the effort.

Jisung was already awake. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from you, his robes wrapped tightly around him. His shoulders were stiff.

You swallowed through the dryness in your throat. “Ji?”

He stood up without looking at you.

You watched him move across the room, hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. He picked up your clothes from the floor—torn in multiple places, seams ripped from how desperately he’d removed them the night before—and with a flick of his wand, the fabric mended itself slowly in the air.

“Get dressed,” he said flatly. “I’ll help you get back to the hospital wing.”

You blinked. “Back to the—what?”

He turned then, just slightly, just enough to look at you briefly. His eyes were guilt-ridden.

“You’re hurt,” he said. “I can see it.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

“And I’m going to Snape later,” he continued. “I’m going to ask him to relocate me during the next cycle. Somewhere far from here.”

You stared at him, stunned. “Jisung, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” he snapped. “Because this—” He gestured toward you, his voice colder now. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

Your heart twisted.

“I told you to stay away,” he said. “And I didn’t mean that to sound cruel. I meant it because I knew I’d lose control. And I did… and now look at you.”

He walked toward the cracked mirror, stopped a few feet in front of it, and gestured for you to come closer.

You hesitated.

“Please,” he said, quieter now. “Just… come here.”

You stood slowly, legs shaking slightly under your weight. You wrapped yourself in the blanket and stepped toward the mirror.

Your reflection made your breath hitch.

There were bruises on your neck, angry bite marks along your collarbone and shoulder. Finger-shaped welts on your hips and thighs. Your lips were still swollen from where he’d kissed you too hard. Some of the marks looked deep. Others looked like they might last days, if not longer.

“I didn’t know I was capable of this,” Jisung said behind you, voice cracking.

You looked at him through the mirror. His face was pale, jaw tight.

“I’d rather suffer the worst pain a rut could ever give me than ever touch you like that again.”

“Jisung—”

“No,” he cut you off. “You don’t understand. I didn’t even care if I was hurting you. I couldn’t think. You could’ve cried, begged, screamed, and I still would’ve—”

He stopped himself, breathing hard.

“I’m not going to let this happen again. I’ll talk to Snape. I’ll take whatever dose he gives me. I’ll lock myself somewhere no one can find me.”

You stepped forward, reaching for him, but he flinched when your fingers brushed his sleeve.

He turned his face away. “Get dressed,” he said quietly. “Please.”

There was nothing else to say.

He handed you your clothes without looking at you again. When you were dressed, he silently moved to support your weight down the stairs and back toward the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow.

Your legs ached with every step. Jisung’s arm was around your waist, holding you upright as you moved slowly down the path back to the castle, your freshly repaired clothes felt stiff and uncomfortable against your bruised skin.

You hadn’t said a word since leaving the Shrieking Shack. Neither had he.

His touch wasn’t warm, or comforting. It was careful and detached. Like he was holding you not out of care, but out of obligation.

Your heart hurt more than your body. You two had been close for so long. Even after he’d changed, after he came back cold, distant, guarded you still felt more warmth than right now. Like he was reaching for you even when he didn’t realize it. So seeing him acting like this was almost unbearable.

You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t rejection or shame. That he was just protecting you, trying to keep you safe. But it still felt like being left behind.

You didn’t even realize how close you were to the castle until the path curved and the first archway of the courtyard came into view.

“Park.”

Professor Snape stood just beyond the arch, his arms crossed over his chest, black robes billowing faintly in the wind. His gaze flicked over the two of you quickly. His eyes dropped to the way you leaned into Jisung, to your limp. And then he saw the bruises. Even with your collar pulled tight, they peeked out, the edges of bite marks and the faint discoloration just beneath the skin.

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“Come here,” he said, voice cold.

Jisung didn’t move.

Snape stepped forward. “Now.”

You felt the panic rise in your chest immediately.

“Professor, wait. It’s not—he didn’t—” You reached for his sleeve. “He didn’t force me.”

Snape’s eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you almost stepped back. His expression didn’t change, but something in it darkened like your words had confirmed what he already suspected.

“I didn’t ask what he did,” he said sharply. “I asked him to come with me.”

Jisung’s jaw was clenched so tightly it looked painful. He didn’t say a word, just let go of you carefully.

You nearly stumbled from the sudden absence of support.

“I can explain—” you tried again, but Snape raised a hand.

“This is not your responsibility,” he said, more quietly this time. “And you are in no condition to be standing here arguing.”

He turned to Jisung once more.

“Park. Now.”

And without looking back at you, Jisung walked toward him.

You stood there trembling, arms wrapped around yourself, the chill settling deeper into your bones now that he was gone.

Jisung stood in the doorway of Snape’s office with his head hung low. The potions master had stepped away to ensure you made it safely to the hospital wing and to explain the delicate situation to the healers. Minutes stretched on endlessly until finally, he heard the sharp clack of Snape's shoes approaching.

“Go in,” Snape ordered coldly, gesturing toward the open door. The Hufflepuff obeyed silently.

Snape shut the office door behind them with a flick of his wand. The room smelled of ash and damp parchment, but Jisung could still smell your scent stronger than anything else; it clung to him, saturated his senses.

“Sit,” Snape instructed curtly.

Jisung lowered himself into the hard chair opposite the desk, shoulders slumped. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Snape’s eyes.

“How is she?” he asked softly, voice raw.

“She’ll live,” Snape replied coolly, summoning a few vials and herbs onto his desk. “Madam Pomfrey is treating the bruising you saw fit to decorate her with.”

Jisung’s head snapped up, panic clear in his gaze. “I—I bit her. More than once.” The admission spilled out before he could stop himself, heavy with guilt and shame. “Does that mean—”

“No,” Snape interjected sharply. “The curse passes only when the biter is fully transformed under the full moon. You were saturated with Wolfsbane, half-shifted but not contagious.”

Jisung exhaled sharply, gripping the chair arms until his knuckles whitened. Relief flooded him, but Snape wasn't done.

“However,” Snape continued, voice lowering dangerously, “do not delude yourself into believing she was truly safe. Had you missed even one additional dose, or had the moon been at its peak, she would already share your curse, and that responsibility would lie entirely with you.”

Jisung flinched. “I know. I—I keep hurting her. I keep losing control, and no matter how much I try to stay away, something just…pulls me back. I don’t know how to stop it.”

Snape regarded him for a moment in silence before speaking, voice softer but still edged with steel. “That’s because it is no longer a matter of mere control. You've complicated things significantly, Park.”

Jisung looked up slowly, eyes wide with apprehension. “What do you mean?”

Snape folded his hands on the desk, expression severe yet composed. “By marking her during your rut, you've effectively chosen Miss Y/N as your mate.”

Jisung’s breath caught, his throat tightening painfully. "Mate? I—what does that mean?”

“It means,” Snape explained, calm and clinical, “that your wolf has identified her specifically as an anchor. Such mate-bonds occur most commonly during adolescence, particularly around a first transformation. It's why you find yourself physically unable to stay away for long.”

Jisung swallowed, panic bubbling up again. “Is it dangerous? Will I hurt her more?”

“Not inherently,” Snape said evenly. “But the bond is permanent, Park. Your wolf will always crave her presence—most intensely near the full moon or during rut. Ignoring it will only worsen your aggression.”

“Then…what can I do?” Jisung asked desperately. “How do I keep her safe?”

“You must never skip your Wolfsbane. Take it every evening at sundown and report to me regularly so we can adjust dosage accordingly. Furthermore, and pay attention to this, you must manage your bond carefully. You cannot fight it entirely so stay close to her but with awareness, not indulgence. ”

Jisung flushed deeply. “But… after everything I've done, how can I risk being close to her again?”

Snape leaned forward slightly. “The greater risk lies in distance, your instincts will spiral. Proximity is crucial but do not confuse instinct for entitlement.”

Jisung nodded slowly, the weight of responsibility settling heavily onto his shoulders. “Does she…know?”

“She soon will,” Snape replied quietly. “But it is essential she hears it clearly from you. Be honest and thorough. Do you understand me, Park?”

“Yes, sir,” Jisung whispered. “I won't fail her again.”

Snape regarded him a moment longer, then produced a fresh vial of Wolfsbane, setting it decisively on the desk. “Good. Now leave before I decide silence is insufficient punishment.”

Jisung rose unsteadily, clutching the vial to his chest. He walked slowly to the threshold, feeling every step heavy with responsibility. Just as he reached the door, Snape spoke once more.

“Park, if you truly care for the girl, learn how to live with the wolf without letting it consume her.”

The door sealed shut behind him, and Jisung stood for a long moment in the corridor, the potion trembling slightly in his grip.

You lay on one of the hospital wing beds, half-covered by a sterile white blanket, the curtains drawn tightly around you. The air was too quiet, every sound outside muted by the silencing charm Madam Pomfrey had casted when she left you there.

You picked at your cuticles absently, barely noticing the sting where skin peeled back. Your hospital gown gaped at the shoulders, revealing the bruises along your arms in the shape of fingers. Jisung’s fingers. You should’ve been horrified and maybe you were a little bit but there was something strangely comforting about them. His hands had held you through something painful, but they had held you. It made you feel... needed. Like you mattered to him again.

Your thoughts scattered when the curtain parted and Madam Pomfrey stepped through, her face tight with concern. Behind her came Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff house. And just before the curtain fell shut again, you caught the edge of black robes retreating down the ward—Snape. He’d definitely told them everything.

You bit your lip and dropped your gaze.

“Hello, dear,” Pomfrey said gently. When you didn’t answer, she cleared her throat. “To begin with, I’d like to offer you a calming draught for the pain.”

“I’m fine,” you said quietly, though your whole body ached. You didn’t want to take anything that would fog your thoughts. You needed to stay alert to explain the situation.

“Well…” she murmured, unconvinced. “Then I’ll start with the surface wounds.”

She gestured toward the scratches and crescent-shaped bites along your shoulders and collarbone. You stayed still while she worked.

Professor Sprout stepped closer, arms folded tightly across her chest. “Miss Y/LN,” she began carefully. “There’s no need to be guarded with us. We’re not here to punish you… but there are a few matters that need to be addressed.”

You nodded wordlessly, eyes fixed on a wrinkle in the bedsheet.

“Madam Pomfrey will heal what she can,” she continued. “But the bite marks will take several days to fade. Magical injuries of this nature are… stubborn.”

“I understand,” you murmured. The marks didn’t bother you.

Professor Sprout hesitated, color rising faintly in her cheeks. “We also understand that Mr. Park was… in a heightened state when you were intimate.”

You saw her flinch slightly at her own words and you almost pitied her. There was no elegant way to discuss something like this. You nodded once.

“Am I correct to assume no contraceptive charms were cast beforehand?”

Your brows pulled together. You’d never studied contraceptive spells properly. You knew they were meant to be used before any intimacy though and given how everything had happened there hadn’t been time for anything like that. You shook your head slowly.

Professor Sprout exchanged a brief look with Pomfrey before exhaling slowly. “Very well. Madam Pomfrey will now perform a diagnostic charm to ensure no unintended consequences arise from your… encounter.”

You nodded again, tending slight when Madam Pomfrey raised her wand and murmured a spell. A pale lavender glow swept across your lower abdomen then faded without a flicker.

“No conception,” she announced softly. “Everything is normal.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you were holding slipped out and you noticed Professor Sprout’s shoulders ease a fraction.

Pomfrey lowered her wand, relief softening the stern set of her mouth. Then she hesitated, studying you over the rims of her spectacles.

“Dear, may I give you some practical advice?”

You nodded, cheeks still furiously warm.

She lifted her wand again. “There are several reliable contraceptive charms you can use. The simplest is Praeventa Conceptum. It’s quick, painless, and lasts a whole day.”

Professor Sprout cleared her throat delicately but said nothing.

Pomfrey demonstrated. She pointed her wand at her own midsection. “Circle once, clockwise, like so.” A pale halo of light traced the motion. “Then speak Prae‑ven‑ta Con‑cep‑tum. Stress on the second syllable of each word. The charm settles just beneath the skin and it’s a mild warming sensation, nothing more.”

You mimicked the motion in the air, whispering the incantation under your breath. A faint peach‑colored glow sparked at your wand tip and faded.

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said, satisfied. “Remember, the charm must be renewed daily, and it is far more reliable when cast prior to any sexual activity.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, both grateful and faintly embarrassed.

Professor Sprout offered a small, reassuring nod. “Better to learn here than under far less ideal circumstances.”

Pomfrey tucked her wand away. “Knowledge is its own protection.”

“Again, you are not at fault for any of this,” Sprout added, voice firm. “Last night’s events were influenced by circumstances far beyond your control.”

“Is he okay?” you asked softly.

A shadow crossed the professor’s eyes. “Mr. Park is with Professor Snape now, discussing the seriousness of missing future doses of Wolfsbane.” Her tone suggested ‘discussion’ meant something closer to a dressing‑down. “He’ll be monitored closely.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” you said, fingers worrying the edge of the sheet. “I followed him there, fully aware of the consequences. I just wanted to help… and I don’t regret it.”

Madam Pomfrey’s brows knit, but it was Professor Sprout who spoke first. “Miss Y/L/N, no one here is assigning blame. What matters now is that both of you are safe, and that Mr. Park remains diligent with his potion.” Her gaze softened. “Your loyalty is commendable, but your well‑being is equally important.”

You nodded, swallowing the dryness in your throat. “I know.”

Pomfrey dabbed a final line of salve across the deepest bite mark. “You’ll be sore,” she said gently, “but you’ll heal. Rest here tonight, at least until breakfast.”

The curtain swayed gently as they left you alone, and you stared ahead thinking only of the warmth of his breath, the panic in his voice, and the way he’d whispered “you shouldn’t have come” like it had broken him to see you there.

But you would do it all again.

Madam Pomfrey cleared you for release just after sunrise. You dressed in silence, fingers brushing over the gauze she’d left on the deepest bite. She offered one last vial of bruise balm and a faint smile before sending you off.

It was Saturday, thank Merlin. There were no classes so most students were still sleeping. You were relieved as you stepped out of the hospital wing, and saw nothing but an empty corridor.

Though still a strange, hollow pressure settled in your chest. You missed Jisung.

You weren’t sure if it was the residual ache in your muscles, or the fading imprints he’d left on your body, but you felt the absence of him like it was stitched into your skin. You needed to see him.

And then, as if your thoughts conjured him, he appeared.

Jisung was standing at the other end of the hallway, just beyond the shaft of sunlight spilling in from the tall windows. He looked stunned to see you, like he hadn’t meant to be here, like his feet had brought him without his permission.

You hesitated.

Snape had surely warned him again—more strictly this time—to stay away from you. But still, Jisung took a step forward and you followed.

You met in the middle of the hallway, stopping close enough that your chests nearly touched. It wasn’t until you were standing in front of him that you realized how much he’d changed. He was taller now, just slightly, but it was enough to notice. His shoulders were broader, his presence heavier, like the wolf was still there beneath the surface.

He stared at the bruises along your collarbone, what little was visible through the open neck of your shirt. You saw the way his throat bobbed, how his eyes flickered with guilt.

“Are you—?”

“I’m okay, Ji,” you cut in gently, offering him a small smile. “Perfectly fine.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He exhaled shakily, and his hand reached for yours tentatively. You almost gasped at the contact. It had been so long since he touched you first. His fingers threaded through yours like they were remembering how easily he did this all the time before.

“You don’t have to be,” you whispered. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your other hand rose instinctively, brushing against his cheek. He leaned into the touch immediately, eyes fluttering closed.

“Did Snape scold you too badly?” you asked, voice soft and teasing.

Jisung cracked a smile. “Yeah, I have to clean the Quidditch stands every day this winter without magic.”

Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”

He laughed. “I’m joking.” He paused, eyes searching yours. “Though honestly… I think I deserved one.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “You’ve been punished enough.”

He didn’t respond, just looked at you like he was still trying to figure out if this moment was real.

The corridor felt suddenly too small, so without speaking, you guided Jisung toward the nearest side door that opened onto the courtyard. The November air was sharp, but sunlight spilled across damp flagstones and carried the faint scent of wet leaves.

You walked side by side, your shoulders brushing now and then. After a long stretch of silence, Jisung spoke in a quiet voice. “Do you remember fifth year… when we hid in Greenhouse Three during that thunderstorm?”

You smiled. “And you spent the whole time pretending not to be scared of lightning.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “I kept thinking about that last night. How you held my hand and told me storms always pass.” He glanced at you, guilt and wonder warring in his eyes. “I wanted to go there initially. But then I smelled you, and I went to the Shack instead, thinking you wouldn’t follow me into a place like that.” He laughed bitterly. “I should’ve known better.”

The admission loosened something tight inside you. “Storms pass, Ji,” you said. “Even the ones inside us.”

He stopped, turning to face you fully. “Does this one? Because I can still feel it.” His gaze flicked to your neck where a bruise peeked above your collar. “I feel every mark I left on you like they’re on my body, too.”

You lifted a hand to his chest, just over his heartbeat. “You didn’t hurt me.��

He looked at you, like he almost believed it, but the tension in his jaw said otherwise. “Snape told me… the biting… it wasn’t random.” he dropped his gaze and bit his lip nervously “I… marked you.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt.

“He said you’re my mate now,” he said quietly. “That the wolf chose you. That’s why I can’t stay away. Why I can’t stop smelling you, hearing you even when you’re not around. Why it feels like something’s ripping open in my chest when I try to stay away.”

You stood still, eyes locked on his.

“He said I shouldn’t fight it. That if I try to pretend the bond doesn’t exist, it’ll make it worse. That I just have to be… careful and gentle with it. With you.” He exhaled, voice tight. “He said if I really want to protect you, I have to learn how to live with the wolf, not push it down.”

“What did you say?” you finally asked.

“I told him I’d do anything to keep you safe,” Jisung said. “And I meant it.”

You reached for his hand and he let you take it, though his fingers twitched.

“The bond… is that why you came to the Hospital Wing corridor?”

He nodded, shame creasing his brow. “I woke up and… I was already walking there. I didn’t think.”

“Then next time, think and tell me,” you said. “We’ll handle the need together. On our terms.”

He swallowed. “Snape says if I miss a potion… you’ll be in danger first.”

“Then you won’t miss it.” Your tone brooked no argument. “Even if I have to brew it myself.”

A faint smile ghosted his lips. “You’d sit through that smell?”

“I’d sit through worse.” Your thumb stroked over his knuckles.

He exhaled shakily, some of the tension easing, though the gold still flickered behind his eyes like embers. “I’m not safe yet,” he warned.

“That’s okay,” you answered, stepping close until your foreheads touched. “I’m not scared.”

For a while you simply stood in the sunlight, listening to the distant chatter of students who knew nothing about storms or wolves or the way a heartbeat could echo in someone else’s chest. His hand tightened around yours, and instinctively you looked up, meeting his gaze.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, hesitation clear in the tense line of his jaw. Before he could withdraw, before he could overthink it, you stepped on your tippy toes and pressed your mouth gently to his.

It began softly, a cautious brush of lips but it escalated quickly. His mouth opened hungrily, tongue sliding against your teeth, and you gave in with a low sigh. His hand found your waist first, pulling you closer, then slid up to cup the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss. Your fingers tangled through his messy hair, tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth, hips pressing forward instinctively until you were pinned softly against the rough stone wall.

“I can’t lose control again,” he murmured urgently against your lips but still he kissed you harder, as if he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to.

“You won’t,” you promised breathlessly. “This is fine.”

His hips snapped forward again, pressing you tighter to the stone behind you. You knew you were out in the open—anyone could pass by and see—but caution melted beneath the heat of his mouth trailing down your neck. The dull soreness from the previous night faded to a faint pulse, replaced by something hungrier, as he sucked gently at your throat.

“Ji—” your voice shook softly, hands gripping his robes tighter. “You’re… you’re not still in rut, right?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “No. No, I don’t think so,” he panted roughly, almost like he was convincing himself too. “It doesn’t feel the same as last night, but—” He exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead to yours “I want you. Fuck, I want you so bad—I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting you.”

A helpless moan escaped you at the raw admission, your pulse quickening under his mouth when he kissed you again—softer now, more controlled, as if he was proving to himself he could do this without falling apart.

“I won’t let myself hurt you again,” he breathed, lips brushing your skin between each whispered word. “But you need to tell me if it’s too much”

You shook your head slightly, pulling him closer still, holding him like he was the only thing keeping you upright. “Ji, nothing’s ever too much with you. Just stay here… stay with me.”

He shivered, his breath hitching as he kissed you again, trying to ground himself in the feeling of you rather than the wild instinct still whispering beneath his skin.

Someone laughed nearby, close enough to remind you exactly where you were.

Jisung froze against you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a soft groan. “We need to move,” he muttered “If anyone sees—”

“Then come on,” you said grabbing his hand.

He followed without another word.

You tugged him along a narrow side-corridor, the secret path behind the Herbology wing that only upper years and rule-breakers bothered with. Past the old broom cupboard, beyond the faded tapestry of a witch laughing drunkenly into her wine goblet, your footsteps were quiet, your pulse anything but. It hammered through your veins, in your fingertips, your throat—everywhere Jisung’s hand stayed locked in yours.

Soon you stood outside Greenhouse Three, abandoned since the storm in your fifth year shattered half its glass panes. Now, ivy and moss crawled along the cracked glass walls, and no one had bothered to repair it, leaving the space forgotten and overgrown.

You slipped through the splintered wooden door, pulling him gently behind you.

Inside, sunlight spilled across broken tables and tangled greenery. Plants had grown wild, illing the air with the scent of damp earth, crushed leaves, and something faintly sweet. You felt your chest tighten from the memory of your younger selves hiding here together.

Jisung remembered it too, you could see it in the softening of his eyes, the way his shoulders relaxed slightly. He caught your lips again, slow at first, but deepening fast, pulling a moan from your throat. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him in until you tasted him fully.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered against his mouth, fingers trembling as you tugged at his clothes again.

He groaned softly, forehead pressing to yours. “Say it again.”

Your breath shuddered. “I want you to fuck me, Ji. Right now.”

He kissed you once more, messy and desperate, before stepping back just enough to undo his belt. His hands shook slightly, desire evident as he freed his cock—already hard and flushed, leaking at the tip as he positioned himself between your thighs. You lay back on one of the old greenhouse tables, cool beneath your skin but sturdy enough for this.

Jisung dragged the head of his cock through your folds, groaning openly at how wet you were, coating him perfectly. He pressed gently against your entrance, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip, thumb stroking tenderly.

He met your gaze, eyes filled with heated care. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he rasped, voice thick with want but edged with concern.

You cupped his cheek softly, eyes locked on his. “It’s perfect. It’s always perfect with you…Just fuck me, Ji.”

And he did.

The first thrust was slow, a deep stretch that pulled a gasp straight from your lungs. His cock slid in inch by inch until he bottomed out, and then he just held there, buried inside, groaning like he’d finally found home.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You’re so tight, you feel so—shit—you feel like you were made for me.”

You clenched around him involuntarily and he hissed, head dropping to your shoulder as he fought the urge to move too fast.

But control didn’t last long. His hips started to roll into yours, picking up a rhythm that got harder with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping echoed off the glass, mixed with your breathy moans and the desperate groans breaking in his throat.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, dragging him deeper.

“Yes, yes—right there—don’t stop,” you gasped.

“I won’t,” he growled. “I can’t.”

He drove into you harder, the table creaking beneath you as he pounded into your soaked cunt like he was trying to carve the shape of himself into your body. You arched under him, nails raking down his back through his shirt, gasping every time he bottomed out and hit that spot that made your toes curl.

He pulled out just enough to watch his cock slide back in.

“Look at this,” he breathed, one hand dragging down to your stomach, pressing just above your pubic bone. “Can feel myself right here.”

You could tell Jisung was obsessed with seeing himself inside you, it made his thrusts hit deeper just so he could feel himself in your lower belly. You moaned brokenly, the pressure making it worse, the angle driving you insane. 

“Fuck, fuck—I’m gonna come,” you choked. “Don’t stop—please, don’t—”

“I want to feel it,” he growled. “Come on, baby. Come for me.”

Your body clamped down around him, walls spasming hard enough to make Jisung curse violently. He fucked you through it, rough thrusts stuttering until his own orgasm took him.

With a strangled groan, he slammed into you one last time and came hard, cock twitching deep inside you as he filled you again with thick spurts that made your pussy slicker than before.

He collapsed over you, forehead buried in your neck, both of you panting like you’d run for miles. His cock was still buried inside you, twitching with aftershocks.

You dragged your fingers through his hair gently, voice hoarse. “That didn’t feel like your rut.”

He laughed, breathless. “No. That was just me.”

“Are you okay?” he whispered into your neck, voice raw and reverent. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head slowly. “You didn’t. You were perfect.”

He sighed against your skin, relief loosening his shoulders. Then, gently—so, so gently—he pulled out, groaning as his cock slipped free from your cunt. The mess between your legs was immediate, warmth spilling down your thighs, and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“I got you,” he murmured, already reaching for his wand.

He muttered a quiet cleaning charm, careful not to touch you until you nodded. His hand brushed your knee, then your thigh, his fingers trembling as he whispered the incantation again and wiped away the rest with his robe sleeve. 

When he was finished, he kissed the inside of your knee, then your hip, then your stomach like it was part of some silent apology only your skin could understand.

“I’m gonna help you down,” he said, voice soft.

You nodded, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you slowly from the table and holding you close while your legs adjusted. You swayed once, but he caught you instantly.

“You’re shaky,” he murmured.

“You fucked my legs numb, Park,” you whispered, trying to smile, and he let out a breathy laugh, burying his face in your neck.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he mumbled. “Not even if Snape drags me out of your bed himself.”

You held onto him tighter, forehead pressed to his collarbone. “You better keep that promise.”

He kissed your temple. Then your cheek. Then the corner of your mouth.

“I will,” he said. “Forever.”

He helped you sit on the edge of the table while he redressed—pulling his trousers back up, refastening his belt with one hand while the other stayed on your knee like he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching you. When he was done, he reached for your discarded panties, blushing faintly as he held them out to you.

“I should’ve asked first,” he said quietly. “Back then. In the shack.”

You looked up at him, heart aching. “You couldn’t. And I already told you… I don’t regret it.”

He nodded, but the guilt lingered behind his eyes. So you took his hand and laced your fingers through his again.

“We’ll be okay,” you said. “You and me.”

“We will,” he whispered.

You dressed in silence together, stealing soft glances and touches, letting the heat cool but not disappear. And when you finally stepped out of the greenhouse, blinking into the pale afternoon light, Jisung’s arm was already around your shoulders holding you close and as steady as the heartbeat you’d heard pounding through his chest not long ago.

And this time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t desperate or rushed. It was quiet and certain.

Like a promise kept.

eeeeek feedback is greatly appreciated! i love reading ur comments and anons <3

[foxgloveinspace]

hello hello!!

i posted about it earlier but i went for a walk today

it was really nice and my brain needed it! my mental health has been kinda icky lately, idk why, peaks and valleys y’know? sometimes i just gotta weather the storm.

but anyways, on my walk i listened to sundowning and tpwbyt

and i daydreamed about getting to hug vessel, and how good of a hug he’d give. like in my head he’s wrapping his arms around tight and not letting go until you do

and because my brain has been bad vibes lately, and levitate started playing, i was openly fighting to not sob in public lmao

tears started falling so i said fuck it and let them be but like man? why’d i have to do myself like that?

anyways i hope you’ve been good! I can’t wait to see your finished cardigan, those skull squares are dope

Hihi!! I saw this last night but I didn’t have the spoons to answer, sorry. I was also going through it yesterday, tbh. I’m at the end of my cycle🙃 so my adhd brain is way worse then normal, and even the things I want to do are getting done sluggishly and with more effort on my part.

I too day dream about Vessel (all of them as well) just holding me, so I get that. I really get that. Mind is usually when I’m trying to sleep tho, so my go to thoughts are about getting squished in a cuddle pile lol.

I’m sorry you had a cry in public tho, that’s always the worst, cause yeah your body needs it in the moment, and like, I’ve never personally judged anyone who’s cries in public before, but I feel like when it’s me?? Always someone who is rude is around for it, oof. I hope no one gave you shit for it!! And I hope it was at least cathartic for you🖤.

[viaxslz]

⭔﹐⌗ ATTENTION ﹕ᶻz﹒

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 gn!reader, cw: established relationship, post argument, making up, cold shoulders, pet names, oh take me back to this era 😭😭, not proofread :P

CHAN

You’ve been giving Chan the cold shoulder for hours after your argument. arms crossed, death glare loaded, and air pods in even though they’re not playing anything. Chan knows he's in trouble. You’re not even acknowledging the dog pics he sent you. The dog pics. That’s when he knows it’s serious. Cue Chan pacing back and forth in the living room like a sitcom dad. He's googling "how to apologize to your emotionally intelligent but terrifyingly stubborn significant other who might actually kill you with their eyes." No real help. He decides to go with the classic Chan combo: guilt + dramatic flair + ✨stupid charm✨. Next thing you know, he’s dramatically fake-sniffling outside your door with a Bluetooth speaker playing “Apologize” by OneRepublic at full volume. “Baby… it’s too late to apolo—oh wait, no, it’s NOT too late! That’s why I’m here!” You crack the door open just to glare, and that’s when he shoves a plate of perfectly microwaved dino nuggets into your hands like it’s a peace treaty. “I made these with love. And regret. Mostly regret. But also love.” You’re still silent. So he pulls out his final weapon: a handwritten letter addressed to “The Love of My Life (Who Could Annihilate Me With One Look).” It’s full of sappy lines like “Your silence hurts more than leg day” and “You’re my favorite notification and also includes a stick figure drawing of you kicking his butt, labeled “Me if I ever mess up again.” You finally snort, trying to stay mad but failing. He gasps. “Was that a laugh? Did you just—was that forgiveness I heard in your nose?” You: “That was me trying not to choke on a nugget, actually.” Chan grins like he just won an Oscar. “I’ll take it.” And before you know it, you’re in his arms, still pretending you’re annoyed, while he whispers sweet apologies into your ear and asks if you want to co-parent a puppy someday because, you know, trust rebuilding.

LEE KNOW

Minho isn’t the type to beg for forgiveness. At least, that’s what he tells himself. In reality, he’s been sulking in the kitchen for an hour, dramatically peeling oranges like they personally offended him because someone (you) won’t talk to him after your argument. He’s not even sure who was right anymore. Probably you. But admitting that out loud would break his cool, and that’s illegal in Minho Land. Instead, he starts making increasingly loud commentary to his cats. “Soonyoung, do you think I was being unreasonable? Hmm? No? Exactly. At least someone understands me.” You’re in the next room, scrolling on your phone, clearly ignoring him. He walks by casually and accidentally drops a photo of you two on the floor. “Oops,” he says way too loudly. “Didn’t mean to drop this beautiful memory we shared when we were still talking to each other like normal, emotionally stable people.” Still nothing. You don’t even blink. That’s when he resorts to phase two: petty bribery. He slides a plate of your favorite snack across the table toward you without saying a word. There’s a sticky note on it that says: “I’m still mad but I miss you more. Don’t let the cat eat this.” You glance at it, unimpressed. So he ups the ante and sends you a meme one of himself, edited to look like he’s crying in a corner with the caption: “Me after realizing I can’t win a fight against my insanely hot and emotionally intelligent partner.” Finally, you let out a laugh, and he looks up from across the room like a cat that’s pretending it doesn’t care but has been watching you the whole time. “Oh, so you do still love me,” he smirks, leaning against the counter. You: “I still haven’t forgiven you.” Minho: “That’s okay. I forgive me for both of us.” You roll your eyes and throw a pillow at him. He catches it, kisses it dramatically, and says, “Tell your representative we accept the terms.” Later, he lets Dori sit in your lap while he curls up next to you, whispering, “I hate fighting with you. Let’s not do that again. Unless you’re into angry make-ups. In which case, I’m very available.”

CHANGBIN

Changbin messed up. He knows it. You know it. The neighbors probably know it because you haven’t responded to a single thing he’s said in two hours and he’s been dramatically sighing every five minutes like someone just told him protein shakes were banned. He starts pacing the apartment like he’s mentally preparing for a final boss fight. Even his muscles look tense. He mutters to himself like a stressed-out drama lead. "Okay Changbin, you’ve survived leg day, you’ve survived Jihoon’s cooking, you can survive this." He tries casual tactics first. Walks by you holding a gallon of water like he’s not suffering. Drops a casual “sup” in the most broken voice ever. You don’t even blink. So he levels up: Operation Cute & Desperate. You hear rustling in the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, he walks out in your hoodie, the one that’s comically tight on him and a headband with little bear ears. His arms are crossed. His face is dead serious. “I’m here to apologize,” he says, voice an octave higher. “As your oversized emotional support bear.” You blink. He waddles closer, overly dramatic. “I’ve been thinking about my actions. While lifting. And crying. Slightly. Okay maybe a lot. But my point is look into these bear ears and tell me you don’t miss me.” You burst out laughing. He grins like he just benched 300 pounds of forgiveness. But he’s not done. He dramatically pulls out a tiny tub of ice cream from behind his back like it’s an engagement ring. “I come bearing peace offerings and high-calorie emotional healing. If this doesn’t work, I’ll let you pick the next gym playlist. Even if it’s… ballads.” You, narrowing your eyes: “Even the sad ones with rain sound effects?” He winces. “Even those.” You pull him into a hug, bear ears squishing slightly, and he lets out a victorious sigh.

HYUNJIN

The argument was dumb. Like, really dumb. Something about the dishes and his suspicious ability to avoid them like they’re cursed. But now you’re not talking to him, and Hyunjin is spiraling. He’s lying facedown on the floor like a Victorian man fainting in a corset. Felix: “Dude, are you okay?” Hyunjin, muffled into the carpet: “No. My soulmate hates me and the world has lost color.” He tries texting you, but you left him on read. Tragic. So he gets creative. You walk into the living room and freeze. There’s a handwritten note taped to the wall that says: “In this house, i love and respect the queen (you). Even when she is intimidating and scary and not talking to me.” Below it: a trail of rose petals… leading to the kitchen… where you find Hyunjin in an apron, holding a vacuum cleaner in one hand and a spatula in the other like some kind of domestic apology warrior. “I have vacuumed. I have cooked. I have suffered.” You stare at him. He drops the spatula. “Do I get forgiveness points if I say you’re prettier when you’re mad?” You squint. “No.” He gasps. “How dare. I’m literally groveling. Do you know how much I hate crumbs on my socks? I vacuumed for you. That’s love.” You try to keep a straight face, but he’s got that kicked puppy look and there’s flour in his hair. It’s… kind of adorable. “I’m still mad.” He nods solemnly, walks over, and holds up a crayon drawing of the two of you holding hands, labeled: “Me + The Love of My Life (please forgive me I am weak without you)” You burst out laughing, finally giving in. He beams like he just won an award. Hyunjin, hugging you tightly: “I’ll do dishes every day this week.” You: “And next week.” Hyunjin: “Let’s not push it.”

HAN

Han is not handling this well. You're ignoring him and he’s been pacing the room like a raccoon on Red Bull. The argument was over something stupid (probably him forgetting to text you back because he was distracted by a pigeon outside), but now you’re giving him the silent treatment and he’s one sad meme away from spiraling. He sends you a voice note titled “Please Listen or I Will Cry in Public” You open it. It’s just him saying “hi” in 27 different accents, followed by a long sigh and then: “I miss you. Also, I stubbed my toe and I feel like that’s karma.” Still no response. So he launches Operation Desperate But Make It Stupid™. You walk into the kitchen to find a post-it note stuck to your favorite snack: “This snack is yours. So is my heart. Please take both.” Then there’s another note on the fridge: “If this is where the cold stuff goes, why are you being so cold to me :(((((” Another one on the toilet: “I flushed my pride. Let me back in your heart.” You’re trying not to laugh, but it’s becoming physically impossible. Then you hear him yell from the living room: “BABY PLEASE I CAN’T WORK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS. I TRIED TO WRITE LYRICS AND THEY TURNED INTO A SAD POEM ABOUT YOUR LEFT EYEBROW.” You peek your head out and he’s sitting dramatically on the floor with a ukulele he can’t play, strumming random strings while freestyle rapping an apology. “I was dumb and now I’m numb, You’re my queen and I’m your crumb, Forgive me please, or I’ll become…A worm.” You: “…A worm?” Jisung: “An unlovable worm.” You finally burst out laughing. He scrambles to his feet like he just got a Grammy and hugs you tight, not letting go. “I’m sorry. I was dumb. I always mess things up but I don’t wanna mess us up. You mean too much to me, even more than ramen. That’s serious.” You: “Even more than convenience store ramen at 3am?” He gasps. “Don’t make me say it again. It hurts.”

FELIX

You’re mad. And Felix? He’s a walking apology wrapped in sunshine and panic. He’s been following you around the apartment at a five-foot distance like a sad Roomba. Every time you turn, he freezes like he’s been caught committing a crime. He tries whispering your name dramatically like a telenovela character. “Y/N… Y/N, please… don’t do this. Not like this. Don’t ghost me while we’re still in the same house. It’s emotional terrorism.” You ignore him. So he leaves and comes back wearing the most ridiculous outfit known to mankind: your fuzzy pink robe, heart-shaped sunglasses, and a single oven mitt. “Look,” he says, dead serious. “This is what losing your affection did to me. I have no sense of fashion. No sense of self. I tried to toast bread but forgot to plug in the toaster.” You raise an eyebrow. So he ups the ante. Grabs your plushie and gently makes it “walk” toward you with a high-pitched voice. “Hi! I’m Mr. Snuggles and I think you should forgive Lixie because he’s really sorry and his freckles are crying.” You cover your face trying not to laugh. “Help what???” Then he puts the plushie down, sighs deeply, and finally drops the crack for a second. “I know I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. I’d never do anything to make you feel ignored or unimportant, but I messed up. So… I’ll keep making a fool of myself until you smile again.” You glance up, and he’s got his arms wide open like a dramatic K-drama confession, still in your robe. You: “You look like a chaotic sleepover aunt.” Him, with the brightest grin: “But am I your forgiven chaotic sleepover aunt?” You sigh, walk over, and hug him. He melts immediately, nearly collapsing with relief. “I’ll be better,” he murmurs into your shoulder. “I promise. Even if I have to learn how to use the toaster properly.”

SEUNGMIN

The argument was small but loud. And now you’ve gone full cold shoulder. No eye contact. No banter. No sarcastic jabs. Nothing. For Seungmin, that’s worse than death. At first, he tries to out-ignore you out of pure spite. He walks past you dramatically sipping water like he’s never been hydrated a day in his life. Slams the cup down. Sighs. Doesn’t look at you. Repeats. Then he escalates. You walk into the kitchen and the fridge has a post-it that says: “This is where cold things go. Just like your heart apparently.” You spot your favorite snack on the counter. The packaging is untouched… but there’s another note: “I was going to eat this out of petty revenge, but I remembered I’m a good person. Unlike some people.” You almost laugh. Almost. Later, you hear him muttering while gaming: “Wow, teammates who actually listen… must be nice…” You finally lose it and throw a pillow at him. He catches it midair like a smug little gremlin and smirks. “So you can still see me. Thought I turned invisible.” You: “You’re so dramatic.” Seungmin, fake offended: “I haven’t even started yet.” Then he softens. Just a little. Barely. “I don’t like fighting with you. And I definitely don’t like not talking to you. I’m still mad, but I miss you more.” He walks over, hands in pockets, and says it without looking directly at you. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I’m working on it. Please don’t stay mad too long, okay?” You stare at him. He stares at the floor. “…Also I may or may not have named your pillow Kevin and cried into him last night.” You: “You WHAT—” Seungmin: “Shhh. Kevin and I are going through a lot.”

JEONGIN

Jeongin, immediately after the argument: “I don’t care. I’m not apologizing. I was RIGHT.” Jeongin, 20 minutes later, whispering to Hyunjin: “She’s not looking at me. Should I fake an injury?” Hyunjin: “What kind?” Jeongin: “Emotional.” Cue Operation Unbothered (but obviously very bothered). He starts acting extra around the house. Slams drawers. Loudly types on his phone with the keyboard click sounds on. Walks past you with exaggerated sighs and occasional mutters like: “Guess I’ll just go be emotionally damaged… ALONE.” You stay silent. Now it’s desperation hour. He walks in wearing a crown made from a cereal box, holding a mop like a sword. “I have returned from the Kingdom of Regret. I bring apologies and emotional growth.” You blink. He bows deeply, knocking the crown off his head. “Your silence wounds me, fair lady. I shall now sing of my sorrow.” You: “Jeongin, don’t—” Too late. He whips out his phone, plays the most dramatic instrumental music he can find, and starts fake-sobbing like he’s in a historical drama. “Forgive me, for I was young and foolish—AND STUPID. MOSTLY STUPID.” You’re cackling at this point, and he breaks character instantly, grinning like he just won the lottery. “AH, SHE SMILES. I AM REDEEMED.” You: “You’re so annoying.” Him, smug: “But… forgiven?” You roll your eyes, tug him into a hug, and he melts instantly, still holding the mop. “Next time,” you mumble, “just say sorry like a normal person.” He grins into your shoulder. “Where’s the drama in that?”

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor @queenofdumbfuckery @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @my-neurodivergent-world @bookswillfindyouaway @beal-o @velvetmoonlght

[https-lvesick]

♡ ⭑.ᐟ 엔시티 드림 . . "merry christmas, loverboy!"

scenario . . ♡ you’ve been bragging about your christmas gift for the whole month and, even though your boyfriend had been arguing you couldn’t beat his gift for you, he was curious, after all, you were talking too much. he didn’t expect you to tell the truth. it’s the first christmas eve you’ve spent alone since you started dating, a few months ago, so you decided to prepare something memorable. he found you lying on the bed, completely naked, well, not completely since you had a big red ribbon around your breasts, offering yourself as the special gift.

content . . 𝜗𝜚 boyfriend!dream x fem!reader, first time as a couple! [mk] protected sex, praising, squirting, kinda rough sex, mark is lowkey a beast ♡ [rj] protected sex (in my mind), praising, breast play, renjun is a whiny sub ♡ [jn] unprotected sex, virgin!reader, big dick!jeno, power play, cervix fucking, creampie, jeno it’s too good for this world ♡ [hc] fingering, messy sex, mention of squirting, mirror sex, haechan is a bit of a perv and kinda mean (but wbk) ♡ [jm] fingering, cunnilingus, praising, jaemin is a softie and… kinda pussydrunk ♡ [cl] unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, mentions of children (as next christmas’ gift), GIVE THIS MAN A KID Y’ALL, chenle is completely obsessed ♡ [js] unprotected sex, creampie, clothed blowjob (?), slight size kink, jisung is needy

lola's notes .: oh, haii >.< i’m kinda back yippie! i’ve been facing terrible writer’s block that is eating me alive and i’ve been kinda… depressed bc writing is literally my favourite thing to do, (stardew valley, close your eyes) so it’s being hard for me… anyways, dropping this hc (which i didn’t know i could write on time) so you can enjoy it while i’m away! also, i’m closing requests for now :( i have like 8 in line and, as i said, i can’t write now, but i’ll do it as soon as possible. i have some other projects to do, so idk when i’ll open it again… well, that’s it, enjoy your holidays, my adorable “lola lovers” (you’ve been named by @lyvhie btw) and merry christmas! love y’all <3 (and wtf are these content warnings 😭😭)

Mark

as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, his mouth fell open. he opened and closed it several times while you giggled, watching your boyfriend freeze in the doorframe. he didn't know how to react. though he wanted to touch you, his mind wouldn't let him — not until you gave verbal permission, even though you were literally offering yourself to him. mark stood there smiling awkwardly, trying to hide his obvious arousal. but when you walked toward him, touching his arms and whispering sweet words, he melted. you peppered his face with kisses, running your hands over his body just as you'd imagined.

you gripped the bedsheets so tightly you thought they might tear. you knew your boyfriend had strong hips — he was a dancer, after all — but you hadn't imagined they were this powerful. mark had your face down, hips raised, completely lost in pleasure. he barely let you catch your breath between positions. you'd already reached one orgasm, and he was driving you toward another.

"fu-fuck, baby, slow down..." you murmured, feeling another climax building. you were already weak, but mark kept going round after round like he couldn't stop himself. his skills were undeniable as his hips snapped against yours in sharp, quick thrusts, hitting all the right spots inside you. your eyes rolled back as you drooled, completely undone, but he loved seeing you like this — pleasure-drunk and utterly satisfied.

"c-can't..." he gasped, sucking in a breath when you clenched around him. "been waiting for you my whole life. i can't stop, baby, i'm sorry." his voice was weak, matching his expression. mark truly couldn't control himself, his body moving on its own. "so pretty, baby... so pretty..." he murmured, gripping your flesh. you managed a faint smile at his praise.

one hand maintained its tight grip on your ass while the other traced down your spine, his touch ghosting over your skin before grabbing your hair and pulling you to him. his lips pressed soft kisses and bites to your shoulder as you reached back to hook your arm around his neck. mark buried his face in your neck, whimpering as he picked up his pace once again.

when your fourth orgasm hit, your breath caught, and suddenly you felt something warm and liquid beneath you.

"did you just... squirt?" mark asked, staring in awe with a goofy smile. "shit, this was so fucking hot." he kept talking, but you couldn't process his words, too exhausted to focus. he removed the full condom, disposing of it in the bathroom before returning to you. "let me clean this mess so we can enjoy a romantic christmas eve." he chuckled at your incoherent mumbling.

Renjun

he wasn't proud of his previous actions, but he had glimpsed you naked once or twice... It was an accident — or maybe he had peeked while you were changing. but seeing you fully naked for him now was simply mind-blowing. though he had a mental list of everything he wanted to do with you when the time finally came, he couldn't move. he was too stunned. when your smile began turning into a worried frown, he snapped out of it, walking toward you to cup your face and kiss you passionately.

jun had always shown you his strong and confident side. you never needed to worry — he was there, your super-boyfriend, ready to handle all your concerns. even though he looked small and fragile, he never let that affect your perception of him.

having him underneath you was heavenly. his big round eyes looked at you — especially your breasts bouncing right in his face — like you were the most precious thing in the world. whines escaped his plump lips whenever you rode him too fast or clenched too hard around him. it was all overwhelmingly satisfying and delicious; you wouldn’t want it any other way. turns out his gift was indeed better than yours.

he played with your breasts, squeezing the flesh, pinching and twisting your nipples, even licking his lips, eager to taste them. so you ended his torture. you bent closer and smiled gently at him. "go ahead, love." as soon as the words left your mouth, he took you in. renjun hollowed his cheeks, suckling your nipple, twirling his tongue around the mound, making you gasp when he nibbled it.

your hips rolled lazily on top of his, but his teasing made you pick up your pace. you placed your hands on either side of his head for support and soon you were riding him exactly how you wanted. you lifted your hips until just his tip remained inside, then slammed back down. renjun's whines were muffled by the flesh in his mouth, his eyes rolling back. a heavenly sight.

"jun... baby... i'm—fuck—close..." you whispered, biting your lower lip. he nodded vigorously, gripping your hips, thrusting back into you at a desperate pace until you were the one rolling your eyes back.

as you reached your high, you nestled your face in his neck, breathing heavily, still clenching around him, still hearing his whines. minutes later, his arms caged you as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder and whispered sweetly in your ear, "merry christmas, my love."

Jeno

he wasn’t surprised to see you like this — offered to him so openly. he’d seen you like this once before, back when you tried to seduce him for the first time. back then, he’d gently rejected you, saying it was too soon. he wanted you to be certain, especially since it was your first time. but now, as you lay before him, beautifully confident and presenting yourself to him on christmas eve, he couldn’t resist. not this time. you looked so sure, so ready to give him everything.

a soft gasp escaped your lips, a sound that sent a jolt straight to his core. jeno was slowly sheathing himself into you, mindful of every inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. your hands clawed at his back, drawing a hiss from him, though the sting was nothing compared to the intoxicating grip your pussy had on him.

“is it okay?” he asked, his voice gentle as he kissed your face. “i can stop if it’s too much.” he nuzzled his nose against your neck, breathing in your scent. “love, if it hurts too much, we can try another day.”

“jeno, babe, please, shut the fuck up.” you replied, eyes squeezed shut. “it is hurting a bit, but that’s fine. i mean, have you seen your size?” he chuckled softly, continuing to pepper your face with kisses, hoping they’d ease the discomfort. “just… move slowly, yeah?” you added, and he nodded, doing exactly as you asked.

his thrusts were slow and deliberate, each movement filled with care. jeno wanted this moment to be perfect for you, something you’d remember with a smile — or maybe something that would leave you aching for him whenever the memory crossed your mind. he wanted to mark you, to make sure no one else could ever compare. you were his.

when the initial pain faded, you urged him to move faster, to stop holding back. and he obeyed — because how could he ever deny his woman? his first move was to pin your wrists above your head, holding you firmly but tenderly in place. he loved the marks your nails left on him, but right now, he wanted to see you fully. vulnerable. exposed. his.

the shift in pace was overwhelming. he fucked you with a fervour you hadn’t expected, every thrust hitting deep, brushing against spots inside you that made your mind go blank. you were soaking, your wetness easing his way into you as his cock found its rhythm, pressing against your cervix over and over. the sensations left you moaning, eyes rolling back, utterly lost in him. jeno — usually so gentle and soft — was showing you a side of him you hadn’t known existed, and you loved every second of it.

when he finally came, filling you with his warmth, your body reacted instinctively. your toes curled, your back arched, and his name fell from your lips in a chant. he relished the sound, savouring every moan as if it were a symphony written just for him.

his chuckle broke the haze, followed by a cheeky question: “do we get more gifts on new year’s eve?” you frowned, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. there he was — your mesmerizing boyfriend, sweaty and glowing, with a grin that could light up the world. he traced his hands down your sides, leaning in close to whisper against your lips, “merry christmas…”

Haechan

you were already his goddess — his perfect little girlfriend whom he'd do anything for. he loved you more than himself and respected you like you were his owner (and you were), but he couldn't help wanting more. he wanted to touch your body and do even more things to you, and you knew that — haechan isn't exactly subtle about his thoughts or cravings. that's why you happily decided to give yourself as his gift. when he saw you naked, he moaned involuntarily, so genuine that you couldn't help but giggle. he tried to hide his growing boner, but it was useless, especially because you were smiling at him with that warm, sexy smile of yours that made him kneel immediately. he licked his lips and took off his shirt, ready to enjoy the best gift anyone could've given him in 24 years.

it was raw, messy, and definitely dirty. haechan was a perverted motherfucker with thousands of fantasies — you knew that — but having sex with him took things to another level.

he was always suggesting beach dates or pool days at his house because he wanted to see you in a swimsuit, or suggesting showering together — "jokingly," according to him— to save water. you caught his hints, obviously, and it just fueled you to tease him more. but now that he had the chance, he wouldn't let it go to waste.

he had you completely open for him, your legs spread — caged by his own — in front of the mirror. the sheets were drenched, as was his face, and you were already drooling, babbling something haechan couldn't care less about. he was too focused on your dripping core, which made obscene noises every time his palm connected with it. your grip was so tight on his thigh that your fingerprints marked his flesh.

"you didn't know what you were getting yourself into, baby..." he grinned, watching your dishevelled reflection. your eyes faltered for a moment, making you close them, and haechan stopped, making you whine. "nuh-uh, what did i say? keep your eyes on the fucking mirror and i keep going." he held your jaw, making you open your eyes and look at yourself. the shame had long since vanished, replaced by pure, raw pleasure and inhibition.

"but... it's too much, hyeok..." you whined, trying to catch his hand on your jaw, but it was futile. you could see his mocking grin.

"yeah? too much? then i should stop, huh? i don't wanna hurt my queen." as soon as the words left his lips, your eyes widened and a single tear rolled down your cheek in desperation. he'd been edging you for the past two hours, filling you with promises of making you feel good, satisfied, and giving you as many orgasms as you wanted — and he did, once. haechan made you squirt the first time and then... left you high and dry, begging for more. this wasn't how you'd imagined your christmas eve to be going.

"chan, please..." you whimpered, feeling his fingers circling your clit. "let me—cum..." you gulped before letting out a stream of pleas. when you felt his lips pressing softly against yours, you knew he'd finally let you release.

"now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" your moans grew louder when he inserted three fingers without warning, moving at a quick pace, curling inside you. "let it go, baby, give me another one. be a good girl and give me another one."

Jaemin

right, okay, you caught him. no handmade or expensive gift could beat yours. he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, admiring the stunning view before him. his smirk wouldn't fade as he walked toward you, ready to unwrap his gift. he wanted this to be the night of your life. fuck christmas at this point — you were his special event, and he would make it unforgettable.

"nana..." you whimpered, feeling your orgasm building. your boyfriend didn't hear, still devouring you like a starved man.

you'd been in this position for almost an hour now, lying in bed while Jaemin had his face buried between your thighs. before that, he'd explored your whole body with his hands, lips, and tongue. every inch of you had been kissed, licked, and nibbled. he made sure you felt special and loved — because you are.

"just one more, baby... i can't get enough of you..." he growled before diving in again. you gripped his hair, moaning loudly when he slipped two fingers inside you, fucking you while sucking on your clit.

jaemin wasn't even fully naked yet, still wearing his pants, having only removed his shirt because you'd begged. you needed to see him, to mark him. and there he was — your masterpiece, your gorgeous boyfriend covered in hickeys and love bites, just as he'd done to you. but you wanted more. you wanted to touch him, feel him, give him the same pleasure he was giving you — even more — but he wouldn't let you. not now. he was just too drunk in you to let you move.

just as he'd learned everything about you, he knew you were close — he'd seen the signs twice before — so he worked to overwhelm your senses. you came, releasing into his mouth once again, gripping his hair and chanting his name. he licked you clean before rising to hover over you, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself.

"can my baby handle more?" he smirked. "i still have plenty of ideas to make this christmas eve unforgettable." he wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh and playfully slap his arm. soon he crawled off the bed, stripping off his remaining clothes. you glanced at him, noticing a darker spot on his boxers. "yeah... i might have cum just from tasting you..." you scoffed. "what? you're absolutely fucking delicious, baby. how could i not when i had my face buried in fucking heaven?"

Chenle

fuck. you had just broken him. he’d lost count of how many wet dreams he’d had about you, how many nights he’d jerked off thinking about your scent, your taste. and god, he hated it. he had you. he didn’t need to fuck his fist like some desperate, virgin high schooler. but he couldn’t bring himself to rush you, couldn’t risk making you feel forced. so he waited. and now, this moment? it was everything. it didn’t take much for him to lose control, pouncing on you like a man starved.

from the very beginning — from the day you slapped his face — he knew you were it. his perfect girl. the one he’d love until the end of time, marry, have kids with, and spend forever building a life alongside. it was always you.

and now, having you like this — sprawled out on the bed, back arched, skin glistening with sweat, lips parted as the sweetest, most intoxicating sounds spilled from them — he felt like the luckiest man alive. he was making you his, satisfying you in every way a real man should — your man should.

your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he thrust into you with an almost desperate pace. yeah, chenle had imagined making slow, tender love to you, but his urgency wouldn’t allow it. he needed to feel you, to claim you, to pour everything he had into you.

“ch—chenle, fuck!” you gasped, fingers gripping the bedsheets for dear life. his cock was hitting every perfect spot inside you, and the pressure from his thumb on your clit was enough to drive you mad. why had you waited so long to let him have you like this?

“is it that good, baby?” his teasing voice only made you whine louder. he wasn’t even trying; it was almost unfair how effortlessly he could ruin you. you nodded breathlessly, and he leaned down, biting your lower lip before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer — as if he wasn’t already impossibly close. you were on the edge, desperate to fall over with him.

“don’t pull out, please…” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky as your release took over. your walls clenched around him, and you buried your face in his neck, biting down to muffle the intensity of your orgasm.

“not like i planned to,” he growled, his thrusts growing erratic. just a few more, and he spilled inside you, filling you to the brim as you’d begged him to. even then, he stayed, making sure he gave you everything he had.

“do you think we’ll be celebrating three months of our gift next christmas?” his cheeky tone earned him a playful slap on the back, and you shook your head, laughing softly.

“chenle, it’s too soon for that.” you brushed a hand through his damp hair, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “but merry christmas, love.”

Jisung

boy would be shocked. he didn't even blink for a full minute. the only sign he was "alive" besides his breathing was his quickly growing tent. he didn't notice his body's reaction until you touched him. he whined softly, letting you take control and lead him however you wanted. but when he realized he could fully enjoy his gift, something snapped inside him.

you had been teasing him from the start — whispering sweet nothings in his ear, touching all his sensitive spots, guiding his large hands over your body to untie the ribbon around your chest. when you were fully exposed to him, his hands engulfed your breasts, squeezing them as he prepared to taste them, until you stopped him.

he whined, frowning as he watched you sink to your knees, running your hands along his thighs. "darling, what are you doing, let me—fuck..." the words died on his tongue when you wrapped your pretty lips around him through his boxers. it was the hottest sight he'd ever seen of you, and he was losing control.

you teased him with your tongue while squeezing him, maintaining eye contact as he pleaded for more. you could feel him throbbing against your tongue as he whispered his desperate pleas. he felt ready to burst without proper stimulation. he was begging for it — begging for you. but you weren't ready to give in just yet.

that led to your current position — bent in half, completely exposed, with jisung's tall frame hovering over you as he moved frantically. the thin chain around his neck swayed with each thrust, brushing against your face.

"fuck—sorry, love. am i hurting you?" he whimpered. you managed a faint "no." taking that as encouragement, jisung sat up, lifted your hips, and continued his movements while stimulating your sensitive spot.

you were so aroused that the sounds were obscene and loud enough to make you embarrassed. you'd never been this vulnerable with anyone before, and being this way with your shy boyfriend made you both embarrassed and deeply satisfied. his soft sounds merged with the wet noises, bringing you closer to the edge.

finally, he finished, every muscle in his body relaxing as he let out a satisfied groan, his head falling back. when you opened your eyes, jisung was hovering over you again. "you're so pretty..." he murmured, losing himself in your eyes before adding shyly, "but i finished inside..."

"don't worry. we're safe," you whispered against his lips. "merry christmas, ji."

"merry christmas, my darling," he smiled before kissing you.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content!

masterlist + taglist: @jungaji

[ham1lton]

maneater!yn getting into an argument w one of the drivers after the race and it going viral?

SELF MADE, ASEXUAL!

summary: as one of the very few female drivers in f1, you’re expected to be very careful. however, when a explosive video hits the internet, you have to navigate the fallout.

linked to my maneater series!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by nosybitch1, youthereader and 5,109,928 others.

tmzsports: MCLAREN, MEET MANEATER!: LANDO GETS EATEN ALIVE BY ANGRY YN!

for the full video, check the link 🔗 in our bio.

view all comments.

📌 pinned comment

tmzsports: thoughts? did yn take it too far, or was lando asking for it? 👀 let us know below!

⸻

user1: the way y’all are acting like lando wasn’t yelling back is CRAZY!!!

user2: maneater strikes again 🙄 no man is safe

user3: she’s so aggressive it’s actually embarrassing to watch. no wonder no one takes her seriously in f1

user4: y’all hate yn for breathing at this point lmao

user5: bro if a male driver did this no one would care, but bc it’s yn suddenly she’s the devil 💀

user6: lando looking like he was about to cry and she DID NOT CARE LMFAOO

user7: she’s the problem. she’s always the problem.

user8: he must’ve really pissed her off bc she usually just laughs in men’s faces when they try to argue with her

user9: people calling her toxic when literally every guy on the grid has had a public meltdown at some point 💀 it’s a high level sport!!! everyone’s emotions are high. why criticise her for something you would applaud men for?

user10: “lando gets eaten alive” stopppp the internet is undefeated 😭😭

user11: yn needs to get her emotions in check. she’s in a male-dominated sport. she should know better.

— user12: she’s literally been in f1 for years. she clearly does know better if she’s still here, stay mad lol

user13: nah the real tea is what did lando say to set her off bc she was FUMING

user14: these comments are straight up misogynistic. like be real, if it was max, george, or even charles, y’all wouldn’t care

user15: y’all call her a maneater but from what i see she only “eats” men when they DESERVE it 😛

user16: “she should know better bc she’s in a male-dominated sport” actually no the MEN should know better and stop being fragile

user17: can we talk about how she was fully ready to swing on him but oscar had to step in 😭

user18: every time she blinks y’all call her a villain i can’t

— user16: like ppl r saying she should be kicked out like wtf. she should have swung on him idc

user19: yn too chopped to be acting like this LOL

— user5: imma chop your DICK off!!!

user20: if she was a man y’all would be calling her “a fighter” and “a true competitor” but bc she’s a woman she’s suddenly a problem

user21: lando def thought he was gonna win that argument and yn chewed him UP

user22: the grid walking on eggshells next race bc yn is officially in her villain era lmaoooo. can’t wait for her next trophy!!!!

user23: she told lando “maybe if you spent less time whining and more time racing you wouldn’t have dnfed” I ALMOST FELL OUT MY CHAIR 😭😭😭

user24: funny how every guy she argues with suddenly becomes a victim in the eyes of the media… wonder why that is 🤔

— user25: starts with m, ends with isogyny.

— user24: funny how lando was yelling too but only yn is getting called aggressive?? misogyny is so boring at this point

user26: yn could literally say “good morning” and half of y’all would start foaming at the mouth

user27: “mclaren, meet maneater” is sending meeee 😭😭😭

user28: praying for yn’s pr team rn

maneater: nah cause y’all stay tryna make me look crazy. “gets eaten alive”?? be fucking for real, he started yelling at ME first. maybe next time try reporting what actually happened instead of whatever dramatic fanfiction y’all cooked up for clicks. clowns. 🤡

— user1: ignore them queen!!! the ynnies in the trenches for you rn <3

— user29: maneater supremacy. keep making men cry queen 💕

— user30: the tears of your misogynistic male haters keep my skin looking youthful. <3

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

[norrisainz33]

beauty and brains || cs55

☆ summary: carlos’ long term partner is an engineering student, victoria’s secret model and all around fam favorite. him and a few others surprise her ahead of the singapore gp!

☆ pairing: carlos sainz x model!student!reader

☆ fc & warnings: kelsey merritt & none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you sm for the request and for your patience🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user1: beauty and brains fr

user2: you are everything

yourbff: i can’t even imagine the stress of exams and the show

ynuser: i am so stressed but we shall persevere 😭 last time i ever have to do this!!

yourbff: you have GOT THIS GIRL! you gonna be a graduate so SOON!!!!!

ynuser: going to need some drinks after this is all over

yourbff: say less baby

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl i can’t wait to see you 🤍

ynuser: i can’t wait to see you in singapore mi amor 🤍

carlossainz55: counting down the minutes. i am so incredibly proud of you

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹 don’t make me cry carlos

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re going to crush these exams mon ami

ynuser: thank you best friend 😘

user3: vs fashion show?! that is huge! im so proud of you 😭

user4: omg i’m going to the singapore gp too!!! i hope i see you

user5: you are the blueprint

carlossainz55 has posted to his story

[i am so proud of you my love. the sky is the limit and this only the beginning]

view all story replies

user3: YAYYYY CONGRATS TO OUR FAVORITE PRINCESS

user5: how she managed to get a degree and be a full time model at the same time is so impressive

landonorris: yessssss that’s our girl let’s gooooooo

carlossainz55: could not be more proud!

landonorris: i am having the hardest time keeping my mouth shut abt the fact that we’re going to her show. she keeps talking about how much she misses you and all of us

carlossainz55: if you tell her i’ll drive you straight off track in singapore

landonorris: understood

user6: carlos are you going to the vs show??????

ynuser: i love you so much 😭 thank you for the flowers, im so glad to have gotten them this morning. i wish you could be here!

carlossainz55: it is the least i could do!! i love you more than words could express. i’ll see you soon 🤍

lilymhe: you should’ve gotten her more flowers

carlossainz55: 100 roses is not enough?

lilymhe: nothing is enough when you’re dating the most perfect woman in the world

carlossainz55: i suppose you got me there

scuderiaferrari: we are so proud of y/n!!

user8: begging to know if you’re going to make an appearance at the victoria secret fashion show king

user10: simp ☝🏻

user11: you’ve moved me with this carlos

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmundt, victoriassecret, judebellingham, erlinghaaland, and 764,238 others

ynuser: new york city - it’s time 🪽

view all 462 comments

user6: ahhhhh it’s vs time!!!

user8: gUYS is carlos going to be there to support her 😭

user12: i feel like no bc singapore is right around the corner

user8: ugh yeah true but this is so important and he already missed graduation 😭

user12: ik!!! crossing fingers he can make it

user10: the footballers in her likes lol

carmenmundt: so effortlessly beautiful

ynuser: that’s you carmen 😘

carlossainz55: that’s MY girl

ynuser: yes it is 🤍

user9: i’m literally so excited to watch the show later

victoriassecret: can’t wait to see you later y/n 🩷

yourbff: so glad to be here with you 🫶🏻

ynuser: you’re my rock

oscarpiastri: time to shine

ynuser: 💎

user10: that’s our engineering graduate!!! look at her go!!!

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user6 and 12,285 others

f1gossip: 🚨 breaking: carlos sainz, lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell, carmen mundt, and alexandra saint mleux have all been spotted arriving at the victoria’s secret fashion show in support of y/n y/l/n who will be walking in the show tonight

view all 135 comments

user12: user8 he’s there 🥹

user8: i fully screamed this news made me so happy

user12: we love to see the support 😭

user15: no bc i’m about to cry. what do you mean all of them flew out to new york when they’re supposed to be in singapore in 3 days to support their girl y/n/n?????

user22: no because they clearly love her so much im sick

user16: this is an elite pull by y/n

user4: this is everything to me i hope you understand

user19: praying this brings good karma to carlos in singapore

user18: y/n is so loved

user8: she really is 😭

user5: things i will never shut up about: this

lando.jpg has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, ynuser, yourbff, goergerussell63, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, and 743,234 others

lando.jpg: even though carlos told me to close my eyes more times than i could count at the show, i wouldn’t have wanted to spend 24 hours in nyc with anyone else. congrats to y/n - we all love you muppet

view all 888 comments

user3: he revived lando.jpg to congratulate his friend this is so sweet

user55: CARLOS TOLD ME TO CLOSE MY EYES IM CRACKING UP

carlossainz55: thanks for coming with me mate! and yes don’t look at my girlfriend

lando.jpg: my bad mate! i forgot i went to the fashion show to not look at any of the fashion

ynuser: carlos 🙄

carlossainz55: 🤭

user9: who is gonna tell carlos that his girl is a model and it’s literally her job to be looked at in crying

ynuser: landito!!!! i can’t express how happy i was to see you all there. thank you for coming my sweet sweet bestie

lando.jpg: y/n/nito!!!! ofc always happy to support you

user8: the way carlando and y/ncarlando are so close is so incredibly important to me

user43: the second pic of y/n and carlos just called me single in 55 different languages

lando.jpg: same

user43: LANDO

oscarpiastri: lily and i wish we could have been there!!! still so proud of you ynuser

ynuser: you were there in spirit, i felt it

use13: i’m not gonna be normal abt this, sorry in advance everyone

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63, scuderiaferrari, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya, carmenmudnt, and 976,374 others

ynuser: last night was unreal, a total dream come true. ever since i started modeling it was a dream of mine to walk in the victoria’s secret fashion show and i did it!! but what made the night even sweeter was all the amazing people who came to support me. to my carlos, thank you for making that happen 🤍 see you all in singapore!! i need a nap 😴

view all 789 comments

user2: you were radiant

user5: the peoples princess fr

carlossainz55: anything for you mi angel

ynuser: i’m the luckiest girl in the world

carmenmundt: i’m so glad i got to be there!!! you are a STAR

georgerussell63: what carmen said!

ynuser: thank you carmen and georgie!! i love you both 🫶🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: proud is an understatement

ynuser: 🥹 i’m so thankful for you

user7: she is the moment

user10: i hope you get the best sleep of your life on that trip to singapore

sabrinacarpenter: gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous

ynuser: 🤍

user9: i’m going to miss you when i scroll

ynuser has posted on their story

view all story replies

user3: you need a rest ms girl idk how you’re still standing after exams and the vs show and now traveling to singapore

lilymhe: yayyy lemme come find you

ynuser: yesss please!!! i’m with carmen and alex

lilymhe: yay yay yay yay

user6: praying you bring him good luck today! i am SICK of the dutch national anthem

yourbff: did you sleep the whole flight?

ynuser: omg yes thank GOD. pays to have a bf with a private jet

yourbff; GOOD you needed that

lilyzneimer: i’m so glad you’re here with us 🫶🏻 i missed you

ynuser: i missed you more lils

lilyzneimer: truly not possible

user5: i’m here too!!! hoping to see you ms queen

user9: thank god you’re back in the paddock i missed seeing pics of you there

ynuser has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, zendaya, yourbff, lilymhe, and 564,133 others

ynuser: carlos sainz!!! el matador!!!!! oh my god i am speechless!! you did that baby 🤍

view all 876 comments

user55: CARLOOOOSSSSSSSS

user6: carlos sainz winner of the singapore gp!!!! breaker of the mv win streak!!!

user8: tell me you all saw the clip of her crying while watching him on the podium

user2: might have been the cutest thing i’d ever seen

user8: i hope a love like that finds me

carlossainz55: you brought me some luck mi princessa 🤍

ynuser: no luck needed with a drive like that 😍

landonorris: i made the photo dump 🥹

ynuser: of course you did mr podium man

user9: carlando podium is so important to me

yourbff: congrats carlos!!! truly amazing stuff from you

carlossainz55: gracias y/bff

scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️

user11: i never thought i would care so much about vroom vroom cars but y/n you have shown me the light

user10: oh i love you two so much

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated. i do be slow af on here with these requests,, my apologies y’all

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[absinthehyuk]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© absinthehyuk, 2024.

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS JEALOUSY HCS ── .✦

a/n: I just ate which like now my stomach hurts because I ate this spicy burger (10/10) and my stomach is hurting so let’s hope i don’t die from a burger😭 also request from anon (here) tysm!

(Tags: batboys when jealous of crush!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Internally Brooding, Externally Stoic: Bruce keeps a calm, composed exterior, but inside? Full-on brooding mode. He watches every move, his jaw clenching just slightly whenever the other guy laughs a little too much.

Passive-Aggressive Moves: Bruce subtly but effectively tries to interrupt. Maybe he’ll walk by and offer you something he never does, like coffee or water, just to make his presence known. “You looked thirsty,” he’ll say, while the guy looks confused.

Petty Rich Guy Move: He’ll ‘accidentally’ mention something about Wayne Enterprises, as if to remind everyone just how wealthy and powerful he is. “Funny, we were discussing corporate acquisitions the other day,” he’ll drop casually, as if it relates. (Let’s hope he doesn’t drain his bank 😞🙏)

The Comedy: When Alfred catches him glaring, he’ll dryly say, “Master Wayne, perhaps you should try blinking before you permanently furrow your brow.” Bruce will immediately deny he’s bothered, even as he side-eyes you again.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Charm Dial Up to 100: Dick doesn’t even try to hide his jealousy. He’ll swoop into the conversation, throwing in his most dazzling smile. “Hey, I didn’t realize we were letting random guys have all the fun,” he’ll say with a teasing grin, while subtly nudging the guy aside.

Over-the-Top Compliments: He’ll suddenly become your biggest hype-man. “You know, she’s literally the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful person in the room, right? No offense to you, man.” The other guy feels awkward, and you just laugh while Dick grins smugly.

Puppy Dog Eyes: If you keep talking to the other guy, Dick’s smile might falter just a little, and he’ll stand in the background, clearly pouting. It’s so obvious that even you can’t help but laugh.

The Comedy: He’ll mutter, “Didn’t even know jealousy could feel this personal,” under his breath while side-eyeing the guy like it’s a soap opera.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Trying to Play it Cool: Jason’s jealousy is obvious in how stiff and silent he gets. He leans against the nearest wall, arms crossed, glaring like the other guy just insulted his whole family.

Blunt Interruptions: He doesn’t have the patience to be subtle. He’ll walk up and ask, “So, who’s this?” in the least friendly tone possible, with a fake smile that could curdle milk.

Accidental Intimidation: Jason’s sheer presence is intimidating, so the poor guy talking to you will probably start feeling uncomfortable as Jason looms over, cracking his knuckles or adjusting his jacket dramatically.

The Comedy: If you don’t notice, Jason will mutter sarcastically, “Oh sure, talk to Captain Chit-Chat over there. Not like I’m standing right here or anything.” Roy, nearby, might add, “Jason, you’re doing that ‘death stare’ thing again,” and Jason will growl, “I’m not jealous.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Awkward and Overthinking Everything: Tim doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s a mess. He watches from a distance, wringing his hands, thinking, Should I interrupt? Maybe she likes him? Maybe I’m reading too much into it…

Accidental Sulking: He tries to focus on something else, but his mind keeps wandering. He sits down nearby, pretending to work on his laptop, typing nonsense just so he can stay close without being obvious. “Haha, yeah…no big deal…” deletes everything he just typed.

Passive Observing: Tim eventually tries to casually stroll by, acting like he just happened to be there. “Oh, hey… didn’t see you there. Weird, right?” He’s so awkward it’s endearing.

The Comedy: If Kon or Bart sees him sulking, they’ll tease him mercilessly. “Dude, go talk to her.” Tim panics, “I can’t. She’s busy… laughing… with him…” Kon: “You’re hopeless.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Silent Judgment Mode: Damian watches with narrowed eyes, judging every aspect of the guy talking to you. He might even mutter things under his breath like, “He stands like a fool,” or “He can’t even articulate properly.”

Direct Interruption: Damian doesn’t have time for subtlety. He’ll walk up and flatly say, “Are you finished with this conversation? It’s becoming unbearable.” The other guy is usually too shocked to respond.

Unintentional Comedy: He’ll start critiquing the guy’s conversation topics. “She doesn’t care about your opinions on sports,” he’ll state matter-of-factly, as you try not to laugh.

The Comedy: If you ask if he’s jealous, he’ll scoff. “Jealous? Of that imbecile? Hardly.” But the tips of his ears are turning red, and you know he’s lying.

[hannieween]

a date with the devil | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: gang leader jeonghan, bad boy jeonghan › genres: smut (18+) › word count: 26.1k

› warnings READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️: shamefully stole a line from the show daredevil, gore, guns and other weapons, blood, injuries, descriptive violence, dub con, glamorized gangster shit, toxic and dark themes, cheating, yandere undertones, jeonghan is a jerk in the beginning, smut with plot, dirty talk, hard dom jeonghan, really subby reader, pussy drunk jeonghan, spit kink, degradation kink, voyeurism, some praise kink, impact play, instant love, fucking with clothes on, multiple unprotected p in v scenes, cumming on skin, creampies, fingering, breeding kink, pull out method, creampie, possessive jeonghan, manhandling rough fucking with love, dumbification, hannie is kind of insane and reader is too, backshots. brat taming: orgasm denial, spanking, humiliation. use of the word slut, pet names: baby, baby girl, good girl, pretty, sweetheart (hers) sir (jeonghan)

› 🎧: kazino – bibi | honey! – tabber ft. dean | control me – colde | bubbly – ethan low | i need you around – yugyeom ft. devita | movies – devita | 007 – tabber ft. syd | ghosts – highvyn | the killa – txt | hold me – hojean | shut the fuck up, that's mine – tabber | bonnie & clyde – dean

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂 › author's note: hey! hello! hi! this is the second part of my hannieweenfest/kinktober! this has been really fun so far! this is super self-indulgent — like i didn't even plan for this to reach these many words. so, i hope you like this! buckle up (●'◡'●) › author's note: big thanks to booki @kwanisms for helping me come up with seungcheol's nickname 🙂‍↕️ › another author's note: some bits of this are rushed and i apologize. tumblr is a bitch that did not let me expand on my ideas as i wanted to 😭 it's not thoroughly proofread but pls enjoy

› one, double-crossed

THE WALK FROM YOUR APARTMENT TO THE WORKSHOP WAS THIRTY MINUTES. You hugged yourself tightly as you hastily walked on the sidewalk, shooting a glance both ways before crossing the street, high-heels clacking at your wake.

Aside from the few incoming cars and the trucks that stopped by every corner to collect waste, the night was quiet. If you kept your pace, no one would see you. If no one saw you, no one would care that you were gone for the night.

You kept on the sidewalk, going under a bridge, the echoes from the upcoming cars rattling your head. Dull, pale streetlights blinded your vision as you tilted your head skyward, trying not to miss your step. God, what am I doing? But before you could try and justify this, you quickened your pace.

Reflecting was not going to work. It never does with these guys.

You recognized Kim Mingyu by the dark matte helmet he was taking off. His fingers unclicked the strap beneath his chin, placing his hands at the sides of the helmet to pull his head out. He let out a relieved sigh, mouth falling open as he ruffled his long dark hair.

His gaze found you at the clacking of your quick footsteps on the concrete. “What are you doing here?”

“You could at least say hi first,” you snapped, stopping before his Kawasaki Ninja. A black powerful bike, sleek, elegant, and faster than a race car.  

He was known for the loud revving that swept through the streets at night. You knew him, however, as one of the gang’s most trusted members. Quick-witted. The muscle of the group.

“What I’m going to say to you is goodbye,” he hissed, darting his gaze around, making sure you were indeed alone. “You can’t be here.”

“I need to go inside. Do you know what will happen if someone sees me here?” you retorted, leaning closer to the bike to no use. The man was so tall you had to keep your chin up to look at him in the eyes.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he whispered sharply. He snapped his head to his side, motioning to the other way. “Now, go home. You’ll find nothing here.”

You huffed loudly at him, rolling your eyes. “All of you are so useless.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Mingyu said through his teeth, making it hard for you to listen. You were already turning away, walking down the side of a building.

A row of motorbikes were parked outside the workshop, making it seem like the place was packed inside. But as you passed by, the shutter doors were rolled up so you could get a quick glimpse inside. Vernon, the guy that gathered intel on the streets to communicate for the gang, sat alone on a rusty old couch, sipping on a can of pop.

The man arched an eyebrow at you, but remained quiet, his eyes following you as you passed the entrance and turned to the back of the building, where you heard the real workshop was.

As soon as you pushed the door open, you knew that you should have not walked in there. All your confidence, all your determination to get this done, dissipated in a second. The room was dark, smelling like grease and something else that made your nose itch. 

Jeon Wonwoo stood up abruptly the instant he saw you come in, the loud noise of his chair falling making you jolt. “Get out of here,” he snapped.

“Where is he?” you asked, keeping your tone as flat as possible.

Wonwoo was someone who made you nervous naturally, being the one that was known to be the gang leader’s second in command. The one that aside from being a drug-runner, moonlighted as the gang’s spy. 

“Get the fuck out,” he muttered, taking two big steps your way, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you to the door.

You tried to slap his hands off you, “No, tell me where Seungcheol is.”  

At the sound of his boss’s name, he retreated willfully. “In the back,” he replied, bewildered. “Why are you looking for him?”

“I need to talk to him,” you muttered, your voice breaking a bit. “My sister has gone missing, and I think he knows where she might be.” You read his gaze, just as he was reading yours. “Didn’t you know she’s missing?”

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo said under his breath. And in his confusion, he made a mistake.

Jeon Wonwoo, the guy you knew to be sagacious, flashed a look at one of the doors to his left. And that is where you turned your next step towards.

“No, wait,” he muttered. “Fuck!” he exclaimed quietly as you turned the doorknob and pushed through. 

It was a storage room. One wall was covered with industrial racks holding duffel bags. There was a table. You were not sure what you had thought you would find as you took in your surroundings. But you found the smell that was caused your nose to itch.

There were two men in the room. One was sitting far back to where you stood. He had short black hair, a fringe that sit parted on his forehead. The other, closer to the entrance, had pale blond hair, long enough that the front strands reached his cheekbones. 

This was Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol arched one eyebrow at you in the doorway. “Can I help you?” he spoke slowly, motioning a hand at Wonwoo who was standing closely.

The man exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Y-yeah,” you croaked, finding your voice. “I want to talk to you,” you sent a meaningful look at a man sitting across from Seungcheol, implying you needed to talk alone.

Yoon Jeonghan sat on the other chair. He rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand. His brown eyes were expressionless, but you knew he was known to be like that. The book-keeper to the notorious boss Choi Seungcheol, his best friend and confidant.

“What about?” now he was raising both eyebrows, not noticing your unspoken message.

“Ki-ki…” you stuttered, looking between them nervously.

“Eh?” Seungcheol made a face of annoyance. “Why are you here?” he asked with a heavy tone. “You know you can’t just walk in here, you know that, right?”

Seungcheol placed the dismantled gun on the table, throwing the dirty rag on its side with a frustrated sigh.

Oh, you were well aware that you could not just walk into Seungcheol’s workshop and expect to come out scatheless. Or to come out of there at all. Choi Seungcheol was unnerving, intimidating. He had a reputation of being ruthless and calculated, once wiping out a whole gang in a single night, earning the nickname The Shadow of Daegu.

Part of his reputation also stemmed from the fact that not a single gunshot was fired. He handled everything with his hands.

“You’re so damn clueless,” Seungcheol hissed, reclining back on his chair. “Look, kid,” he quirked up a thick eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re not going to find anything in here.”

“I… I…” you searched for words, you had a whole thing rehearsed. But once standing upon The Choi Seungcheol, stupefaction swallowed you whole.

“Go,” the blond-haired man sneered, crossing his big arms over his chest. “And don’t come back.”

“I need to know where my sister is. Kiki’s been radio-silent for three days,” you blurted, your voice airy as if you had just used all of the air in your lungs to get those words out.

“And you presume I know where she is?” Seungcheol paused, linking his fingers together and placing his hands on his middle.

You made a motion to step closer but stopped short when the man bristled. The other man did not move, he did not speak, and you were sure, he had not even blinked. “No, but Hyunjun does.”

Seungcheol sent his gaze around the room as if looking for his fucks to give, shrugging. “You’re failing to make a point.”

“I think Hyunjun suspects I want to leave him,” you said through a ragged breath, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You knew you were on the brink of falling into a panic attack. “And he won’t tell me where Kiki is. I believe he’s holding her hostage, so I won’t break our engagement.”

“Ever heard of a lawyer? Some common people could handle that for you,” Seungcheol arched one eyebrow.

“You of all people know that won’t fucking happen,” you spat, crossing your arms to show some assertiveness, but deep down you were doing it to hold yourself together. “I do that, and he kills her. I won’t even get close to finding someone who even wants to go against him.”

“Again, the point,” Seungcheol punctuated, lowering his face but keeping his heavy gaze piercing your face.

“I want you to kill him.”

Seungcheol did not pause, scoffing right away. “One, you have balls to come here,” he sneered, lip curling slightly over his perfect set of teeth. “Two, who the fuck do you think you are to boss me around? And three, I don’t know how you found this place, but I do want to see you getting the fuck out of here before things turn drastic.”

You were used to receiving threats, almost daily, but being so worn out over Kiki’s disappearance had made you more irrational than you would have liked to be in a place like this.

“Please,” your voice brimmed with sorrow to the point that your limbs had started to tremble. “I’ll do anything.”

“Why don’t you kill him yourself?” Seungcheol drawled. “Why should I get my hands dirty?”

This is not going according to plan. Between the buzzing in your ears and your pounding heart, you knew something was extremely wrong. This is supposed to be Hyunjun’s rival, the only person in the whole city who would want him dead.

Seungcheol sat up straight, the foldable chair creaking underneath his weight. “Now go, before I have you removed,” he shooed at you with his hand, grabbing his gun and the rag to continue cleaning it.

You stood there, hopeless, helpless.

One thing that bothered you was, Yoon Jeonghan stared at you the whole time. Even as your tears started to roll down your cheeks, he stayed cold, expressionless. You were sure you had not seen him blink even once. It was as if he might miss out on some important detail. But you were the only thing to look at, nothing interesting.

You were crying, sobs broke from within you, flooding the room. You were sure you looked lost, like a kid that just lost a parent in the open street.

“Wonwoo,” Seungcheol called, eyes set on his work.

“Yes?” Wonwoo opened the door, and something told you he had been standing behind it the whole time.

“Show her out,” Seungcheol pointed at you with the tip of his nose, while his hands worked on putting his gun together. “And check that no one followed her here.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo said, his hand grabbing you by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

“No, wait!” you cried out, face tearstained. You grabbed at the door frame, holding on for dear life as the man switched his grip from your arm to your waist, dragging you out of the room. “Please!”

“Fucking hell–,” Wonwoo grunted, managing to lift you by the waist, letting you go once you were out of the workshop. “I fucking warned you.”

“Let go, let go, let go,” you banged your hands on his hard chest, just as his hands released their tight grip on your waist with little to no care. As if he were disposing of something grimy and nasty.

“Go home,” he said, looking back to make sure no one else was listening. “Why the fuck did it occur to you this was a good place to seek help?”

“You won’t understand,” you plastered your palms against your cheeks, wiping your tears. “No one will.”

“Go home,” he reiterated. “And watch your back.”

You knew he did not mean to watch your back from him or any of Seungcheol’s people. You raised your teary eyes to find his cold stare. “He will kill her,” you declared with a sorrowful tone. “And it’s all my fault.”

“You knew what you were getting her into when you got engaged to someone like Hyunjun,” he murmured, and even if his statement was dull, there was some pity shining in his eyes. “Go.”

You turned on your heel on the wet pavement, walking away from the workshop. Wonwoo’s words resonated in your brain with each step you made, turning the corner and then into a deserted alley, deciding to wait.

There was nowhere to go now. You could not go back after crossing enemy territory. Even if Hyunjun did not know where you were, he would wonder why you even left the apartment.

If he started suspecting your plans were afoot, you were for sure a dead woman.

Wonwoo was wrong. You did not know what you were getting yourself into when you got engaged two years ago to that monster. You knew what he dedicated his time to, of course. But you did not know how insane he was when he proposed to you, and you said yes.

Even then, you did not have a choice.

› two, damned if you do

This part of the city was usually safe, and quiet. You wondered if Seungcheol and his gang made it so that no one would suspect that this was where his headquarters were. The workshop was found between a butchery and a flower shop, so it made sense for the place to be in this section of the neighborhood. It was the least place they would find suspicious.  

It was a Monday night. The only people strolling by the streets were people going back home from work, not noticing you hiding in an alley. Even if they did, no one would care.

You banged the back of your head on the wall repeatedly, trying to come up with a plan. “Think, think,” you whispered into the midnight air. It was fresh with light rain, droplets of water falling on your head.

The loud roaring of engines announced them before you even saw them pass by. One by one you counted, one, two, and another two motorbikes running down the street, turning left and, you assumed, into the heart of the city. A big black SUV rolled on closely behind them, making your heart drop, that was Choi Seungcheol’s van.

You tried to become one with the wall behind you, pressing yourself into it. You shut your eyes tightly as the sound of wheels rolling on the sidewalk came closer. Vernon skillfully skateboarded down the street. Even if the pavement was wet, the man did not slow down or go on foot.

The moment he disappeared from your view, was when the second part of your plan started rolling. Granted, it felt more like you were improvising, but you needed to do something.

So you went back, hating every second as you rushed to the workshop again, going to the back of the old building. With Vernon, Mingyu and Wonwoo being gone, you had a chance to open the door freely, finding a place to hide.

The first part of the workshop was just that, a simple space for mechanical repairs. There were two doors, one where you had your conversation with Seungcheol, the other you assumed was a washroom.

So you went back outside, shivering from both the cold creeping up to your bones and the rush from being practically in the belly of the beast. You found a large trash container, auto parts dumped on top of the lid.

You treaded quietly around it, crouching down next to it. You thanked the midnight rain that washed away any smells from your new hiding place, also thanking whoever decided to throw away such large amounts of garbage to use them as cover.

The door to the workshop was pushed open, making your limbs go rigid and you sucked in a breath.

A lighter rasped a few times, the sound of flames burning paper caught your attention. Yoon Jeonghan drew in a large intake from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he swallowed the smoke, then quickly blew it out of his mouth.

If you can’t see him, he can’t see you. You tried to convince yourself, knowing damn well that it was a lie. You stayed stiff, holding your breath as the man paced on the pavement, smoking his cigarette, cursing under his puff of smoke when it started raining harder.

The rain pattered on the lid of the trash container, and the auto parts surrounding it. But it also made a soft sound as each heavy drop landed on your jacket. The sound was not enough for Jeonghan to notice, but it did add to your nerves.

The man paused once, and you got ready to make a run for it. But as he kept strolling down the alley, you relaxed.

Yoon Jeonghan was just a bookkeeper. That was how you knew him, as the guy who kept a record of all the shipments arriving on the bay, the ongoing train cargo, and so on. It made sense for the accountant to stay behind, while Mingyu and Wonwoo went on their operations and Vernon to make his plug shit.

But Seungcheol? Would he go too?

“What’s the problem?”

Jeonghan’s voice broke through the sound of the rain, making you gasp, hand flying to cover your mouth. The man paced back and forth, humming pensively as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth once again.

“Wasn’t he on our payroll?” he asked with a quiet, but dangerous tone. “I know he’s on our payroll, but did you remind him of that?”

Some things have started to fall into place. You stopped covering your mouth placing both hands on the side of the container for support, leaning forward to see him walking in circles.

“No, no. Leave him be. I don’t want to do anything at the moment, I just want to know where the fucking ship is with my cargo,” he gritted at the phone, his thumb and ringer finger pinching the bridge of his nose, cigarette still safe between his middle and pointer. “I don’t fucking care, Seungcheol. I’ll burn this city down to find that fucking rat if that’s what it takes.”

He took one last drag of his cigarette, rolling his eyes to the sky as he nodded his head to each of the muffled words spoken by Seungcheol on the other side of the call.

“Yes, mmn. Mmn. Right, you do that. See you here. Bye.” He slid his phone into the pocket of his black denim jeans, sighing out his frustration.

You carefully and ever so slowly pressed back against the wall again, processing what you had heard, knowing why you were confused when you saw Seungcheol leaving the workshop along with the two drug runners. 

“The fuck are you doing out here?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, but you did not dare move.

You heard his footsteps crushing the gravel on the pavement as he approached you, the soles of his boots matching each pounding of your heart as he stood before you.

Jeonghan tilted his head back a little, eyes narrowly searching your face as you gaped at him. “I’m talking to you,” he arched one eyebrow.

“I… I’m not hiding,” idiot.

“You’re either on a suicide mission or got nowhere to go,” he said pointedly. When you gave him no answer, he hummed in amusement. “Or both,” he decided, nodding his head, and discarding his cigarette in a puddle of rain. “Come, you’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned away from where you crouched, the heavy clanking of the door being pulled open startled you even more.

Fear settled deep down in the pit of your belly, twisting your guts. Being in this world meant that you were in constant danger. You have learned to tune in to your instincts, but when your instincts are telling you to run away all the time, it gets harder to pay attention.

“Unless you want to stay there, which Seungcheol won’t like,” he shrugged, motioning you inside.

You rose to your feet, which tingled once you put them to use, each step you took towards the man bringing your senses to a full nerve-rack.

Jeonghan closed the door once you were inside. “Sit,” he offered, pointing to a rusty foldable chair. “I’d offer you water, but I don’t trust the pipes in this retched place.”

“It’s okay,” you croaked, feeling weirder every second you were in the same room as him.

“You were planning on hiding out to… what end, exactly?”

“I already told Seungcheol,” you shrugged, deciding to sit down on the chair in the middle of the workshop. “I won’t be saying anything else until he comes back.”

“Mmn,” he hummed in understanding. “What makes you think he’ll cooperate this time.”

“I don’t know,” you said, playing coy, but you were telling the truth when you added, “I’m improvising at this point.”

Your gaze stopped at the drain in the corner of the space, a hose mounted on the wall. A thought crossed your mind: have people been tortured here?

Jeonghan was acting odd. Another thing you have learned living in this world is: be aware of the men who pose to be meek and quiet. You would know that even if you had not been raised in this dark life. 

He was being strangely amicable. And that fired up every single alarm in your head.

The man was clad in dark clothes. Tight denim jeans, chelsea boots, and a leather bomber jacket. His dark and short hair tussled carelessly, and was wet from standing under the rain.

Jeonghan sent one look at you, dropping his act when he made note of your scrutiny. He sighed once again, but this was resignation. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he walked closer to where you sat.

“The clever one is the one who plays the fool,” Jeonghan said, kneeling so he could level with you. “And you… you’re no fool, are ya?”

What? The only thing that came out of your mouth was the shaky sound of the breath you took.

Yoon Jeonghan pinched your chin with two fingers. Like a hunter who just found its prey cute. “It’s easy to mask your cleverness with that pretty face,” he commented while standing back, his hands sinking into the pockets of his black trousers. “Everyone thinks that being pretty makes you dumb. But these guys are ugly and dumb for not making sure you had gone away.”

“What?” you blurted, your voice merely a whisper. Beneath your confusion, a thought forced you to continue playing the innocent. “I… I’m—I just want to talk…”

“You want to talk to Seungcheol?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, standing in front of you so close you could see the drops of water on his jacket.

As if the man had heard his name, Seungcheol entered the workshop, wearing a frown on his face. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We need to start thinking about what to do with friendly intruders,” Jeonghan tutted, smirking at your reaction. “What?”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, standing up from the rusty chair and smoothing out your clothes with a huff. “I don’t like being patronized.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in shock. And much to your surprise, you saw fear in his eyes. “How long has she been in here?”

“What did you hear, sweetheart? When you were outside,” Jeonghan asked, and for a moment, you thought that maybe your earlier suspicions were wrong.

“I heard nothing.”

The answer just flew past their ears. Both men remained impassive, waiting for you to give them the real answer.

“I heard everything,” you sighed. 

“Your sister is dead. It’s easier to give her up for dead and move on,” Seungcheol spoke out, a stern look on his face. Though the statement was heavy, you knew it was not true.

Mingyu and Wonwoo entered the workshop. As soon as they saw your face, they exchanged a look.

“What?! No, it isn’t,” you blurted, face scrunching in annoyance. “And I know she isn’t dead. If she were, Hyunjun would have displayed her dead body in front of me in some way. Holding Kiki as hostage gives him use over me. That is why I want him dead.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu sighed, shaking his head, and dropping on a seat in the corner of the room.

Wonwoo decided to do the same, though his movements were measured as he sat beside him. “What a nice fiancé you got there.”

Three men looked confused. As the seconds went by, the theory solidified in your mind. Yoon Jeonghan remained expressionless, hands deep in his pockets, his gaze never deterring away from you, again.

“Leverage over you,” Seungcheol repeated with a flat tone again.

You realized it was not a question, but you nodded anyway. “There is a reason why I haven’t gotten married to him yet. He wants to have my name. My dad’s name. I won’t allow it.”

“That fucking lunatic,” Seungcheol said under his breath, running his fingers through his long blond hair. “I swear I’ll fucking kill him.”

“So you’ll do it? You’ll kill him?” you crossed your arms, darting a look at the only man in the room who did not seem confused one bit.

Jeonghan finally moved, opening his mouth to let out a raspy sigh. “Okay, so what is your plan?” he crossed his arms, shrugging when you did not give him an answer right away. “You must have planned something when you came in here thinking Seungcheol would help. You have something to offer.”

Seungcheol cast a curious look at Jeonghan, arching one eyebrow but when he did not dare to bite back at Jeonghan’s offhanded comment, you knew you were right all along. 

“You’re the leader,” you muttered in amazement.

Jeonghan pursed his lower lip, bobbing his head once. “Which leads me to think that not even Hyunjun’s aware of this. But that doesn’t surprise me, either he’s too stupid to realize, or he doesn’t have that kind of pillow talk with you.”

You bristled. In this world, you were used to coming across all kinds of people, none of them had manners, or even one ounce of tact when speaking to women. Or to people in general.

But the truth was, you did not have any kind of pillow talk with your fiancé. He would much rather spend his nights in the bed of other women than share the same space as you. It had been a while since he did so much as kiss you on the cheek.

However, you were nosy. And you built your case before you could make a run for it and come to the workshop.

Seeing your reaction, Jeonghan smirked. “So, both?” he approached you with a steady step. “Well then, are you going to tell me that little plan of yours?”

“You mentioned a problem with your shipments in the bay,” you said promptly, even while your whole body shook with unbearable anxiety, you pushed yourself to blurt the next words. “I know why.”

Jeonghan bore into you with his dark gaze, his lips parted, and you knew that his interest had locked in on you. “I’m listening.”

“I need your part of the deal,” you said. Being inches closer to his face, you could spot the mole on his cheek. “I won’t say unless you give me your word that you’ll get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him or kill him?”

“Semantics,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, no,” he had lowered his tone too, and with his voice, it seemed like he was cooing at you: “I could lock him in a warehouse for the rest of his life or I could throw him into the deepest ocean with his hands tied behind his back. Those two are not the same. Your choice.”

“Kill him,” you uttered at once.

“And you’ll tell me every little thing you know.” His dark gaze shone, even in the badly lit room. You saw the fascination burning in his eyes.

“To the last bit,” you promised.

And that was the moment when you knew. Yoon Jeonghan was crazy. Even if the thought had crossed your head some seconds before, this was what solidified it. If he was as cunning as he gave you the impression, then he knew you were just as crazy too.

“Deal.”

› three, damned if you don’t

That same night you struck your deal with Yoon Jeonghan, he started to work with the information you gave him. Though you knew how to play your cards, and did not give him everything you knew at once. You needed to keep yourself safe until you knew Kiki was safe, and far away from this shitty life.

“You’re going to go back home,” Jeonghan instructed, leaning back on the chair, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widened in fear, even sitting across from him, he was unnerving for so many reasons. “Bu-but I can’t go back there—,”

He raised one hand to stop your protest. “You need to fool him. Make him think that everything is under his control still,” he raised his gaze to find Seungcheol standing by the doorway, hands clasped tightly on his back. “Have someone drop her by her apartment, do this quietly.”

“Are you seriously trusting her?” Seungcheol cocked one perfectly thick eyebrow.

“Do I have another option?” Jeonghan retorted, blinking slowly at the man. “So far, your boys haven’t come up with useful intel. We hadn’t got a single scrap of intel until she showed up at our door. If you have any suggestions, make them right now.”

“We should not let her go, then,” Seungcheol debated.

“It’s the third time you speak as if I weren’t in the room,” you intervened.

Then you saw something you were not expecting. Yoon Jeonghan smirked. The corners of his lips raised slightly, but you caught the sight. And the effect it had on you was like eating candy for the first time. It was exciting, like a rush of fresh oxygen to the brain.

“You will have to come back to me. Back and forth, from your home to here,” Jeonghan murmured, driving his gaze from Seungcheol to your eyes. “Indefinitely.”

“What, are you going to keep me here?” you asked, sending a short glance around the place.

“So you’re not upset you have to stay with us but upset about being in the workshop?” Jeonghan arched one eyebrow bemusedly.

“Well, I’d rather be literally anywhere else than with that animal,” you huffed, trying not to roll your eyes. “Yes, this place is horrible. It smells.”

“You’re going to take the most important stuff and hide it,” Jeonghan added, ignoring your comments. “Now, I don’t want you to be obvious. Just grab your passport and I don’t know, your phone charger, put them somewhere within reach in case you need to run.”

“Not even clothes?”

“You can buy that shit, don’t be ridiculous,” he grimaced.

“How will I buy that shit?” you bit back, leaning over the table. “I don’t have any money, he took everything from me.”

This is how you knew these people to be. Cold-blooded, cunning, calculated. You always believed that the head of the clan was Choi Seungcheol because of his way of handling things. He had a reputation, and his gang did too, naturally. You knew his gang from climbing quickly to be the rival to your dad’s.

And you were known as the fiancé to your dad’s second in command. Not as his daughter. You were a prized possession. A trophy soon-to-be-wife.

“But not your name,” Jeonghan remembered keenly. “You said that. Why?”

You bit back your tongue, sighing through your nose before mustering up the courage to give in a little bit more. “Because that way he will have access to everything my father left me,” you blurted out. “He wouldn’t have shit without my father. And he won’t have shit without me.”

“Your father?”

“Hyunjun doesn’t have an empire, he doesn’t have shit. Everything he has, it’s thanks to that old man,” now it was your turn to cross your arms, deciding not to give any more.

“Mmph,” Jeonghan smirked. “So you’re the iron fist’s kid? I never knew he had kids.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you scoffed. “My dad’s a psycho but he kept me safe. His mistake was letting Hyunjun into our lives.”

“Your dad’s dead? This is news to me,” Seungcheol tilted his head, now totally captured by the information he was getting.

Your chest burned, you knew you were crossing a line you would not be able to come back from. “Close to,” you whispered. “Hyunjun is filling in for him.”

“But you’re his heiress,” Jeonghan pieced together. “What about your sister?”

“Kiki’s not my sister,” you confessed, blinking the hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “She’s the only friend I have. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

“You would go to these lengths for someone who isn’t blood-related,” Jeonghan uttered.

You did not even bother to elaborate. Jeonghan did not need an answer, he was not even posing a question.

Jeonghan turned his head to the man standing behind him. “Get to work,” he told Seungcheol.

“I’ll bring the car around,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to the door to get you back home. He exited the room, leaving you with Jeonghan.

You stood up, and he followed waiting for you before the door as you approached it. “How do I know I can trust you?” you asked him.

“I want him dead as much as you do, sweetheart,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile showing on his lips. “But if it gives you more peace, then I’ll offer you this, you’ll be with me every step of the way. No secrets, you’ll be informed of everything.”

His words left you stunned for a long moment. Jeonghan had proven to be as secretive as your father, even competing at that.  And not only that, but you were also never included in Hyunjun’s plans, he never talked to you about anything that was going on in his life. You knew your reaction was visible because the smirk on his face grew more defined.

“Now, I’ll return the question to you. How do I know I can trust you?” his voice was quiet and velvety. But you knew men like him, you knew that he was planning more than he was letting it show.

“I’m being honest,” you shrugged, feeling like there was nothing more to your answer that you could give him.

“Honest won’t make you smart, sweetheart,” he drawled, his gaze dancing on the features of your face, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“That’s all I have left, Jeonghan,” you whispered. 

“Fine, then I’m content with that,” he said. “Now go, I don’t want our plans ruined before we could even put them to work.”

Efficient. You walked out of the room with nothing more to say. Jeonghan stood in the doorway watching you go. In so little time, he showed you he was someone you could trust. You liked that. 

Plans take time. Soon, you would say goodbye to the last rains of September and welcome the snows of December. You learned that time forgives nothing, and waits for no one.

Hyunjun leaned back on his armchair, one elbow on the arm, reclining one of the temples of his head on his finger as he looked at the screen of his phone.

You used to think Hyunjun was attractive. He had a long, straight nose, full lips, dark hair, and a cold stare. Nothing in his face nor demeanor had softness. He was never sweet to you, nor kind.

And he had not looked at you for the entirety of the lunch, and you did not want him to.

“Any news from Kiki?” you asked, breaking the silence that was nearly choking you out.

Your fiancé dragged his gaze from his phone to where you sat, at the other end of the table, meters away from him. Your food was untouched.

“She’s having a nice stay in Greece,” he let you know in a stilted tone. “Last I phoned she could speak some sentences. I’m pretty sure she knows more now.”

I hate you. You had to play a fool every time you were around him, making him believe that you did not know why you could not talk to Kiki. You did not let it show that you knew of his rivals, of his deals with the cops and every single judge of the city.

He thought you were happily content at his side. Happy and deluded about his love affairs, the trail of bodies dropping around him.

“Will I be able to speak to her?” you rasped, clearing your throat, you raised the glass of orange juice to your lips.

“If you remain silent I’ll think about it,” he said with an annoyed tone, staring back at you.

“I’d like to talk to her,” you gritted with a forced sugary tone, masking your hate with another gulp of orange juice.

“Don’t you trust me, love?” he discarded his phone on the table, stretching his arms in a snappy manner to adjust the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Hyunjun was about to leave on a business trip to somewhere overseas. All you had to do to get this information was hack his phone. You had become so stealthy that he did not even know that you already knew every single one of his passcodes. You had even memorized his passport number.

“Of course,” you whispered. “I just miss her dearly. It’s her birthday soon.”

“You could talk to her on her birthday,” he gave you a stern look. “If you remain quiet.”

It was not her birthday soon. But your stupid fiancé did not know that. Though you kept your mouth shut, resorting to toying with the food on your plate until he rose to his feet and left to the master bedroom of the nice penthouse you shared as a couple.

“Tsk,” you spat.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, and you moved your gaze from your food to the screen, discreetly reading the text message you got.

[unsaved number] Yongsan station. 1 hour.

The reaction you got from your body was nearly involuntary. Your tummy twisted, your heart stammering rapidly in your chest.

Hyunjun came back to the dining room, collecting his phone where he left it. “I’ll be going now,” he said flatly, fixing the buttons of his collar.

“Want me to come with?” you muttered, faking a meek look at him.

“No,” he said. “I’ll be busy, it’s no holiday trip… we’ll have time for that, when we get married.”

You kept your gaze fixated on him. “I’ll wait for you, then,” you said. As if you could go anywhere.

If he registered what you said, he made no comment about it. You watched as Hyunjun stood beside you, leaning over to grab your face with his hand, forcing a hard kiss on your lips. Then he grabbed his jacket and the travel suitcase he had readied before the door and left.

You sat frozen for a bit, hand on your palpitating chest as you processed what had just happened. He’s your fiancé for fuck’s sake. Why did a kiss rattle you so much? It’s not like it was the first time he kissed you. But it certainly felt wrong; not only because you did not want to be kissed by him but because you ached to be kissed. Just not by him.

Some moments passed before stood up abruptly, chair squeaking on the faux marble floor as you ran to lock the front door, rushing to the window that gave you the view to the gate of the apartment building and waiting.

It was not until you saw his black BMW leaving that you carried on changing your clothes, starting by removing your silk robes and undoing the hairpin tying your hair together. You chose a warm sweater, jeans, and boots, completing your outfit with a jacket for the snow. You had long forgotten to look nice, you were only thinking of being efficient.

In the months you had been constructing your ploy, you had also crafted a routine for cases like this. You cleaned the table, did the dishes, and tidied your room. But you made it a rule to leave a mug with tea on your bedside table, a lip-stained napkin sitting beside it. On top of that, you also made sure to toss a blanket on the side of the bed.

You kept a copy of your apartment door in your pocket, leaving your original key on the kitchen counter.

And lastly, you would take your engagement ring, sliding it onto your finger, itching to get it off immediately.

You opened an umbrella as soon as you got out of the building, taking the fastest route to Yongsan station, which was less than a ten-minute walk. But you liked to be early.

You snuck some glances over your shoulders every so often, trying to keep your heart rate steady as you quickened your footing. Even as the snow fell on the city, the station was packed with people, though it was no surprise to you, given it was a rush hour.

But it being crowded provided some sense of security for you. You took the stairs up to one of the bridges near by, deciding to stay there to keep watch for a sign, a messenger, or a familiar face. You were dying for it to be the latter.

[unsaved number] car, four o clock

You desperately looked around, rushing down the stairs with little care to watch your step. You almost slipped your foot on one step, but got to the sidewalk safely, opening the door to a black sedan with its blinkers on.

“Do you fucking care about your safety?” Seungcheol spat once you slid on the passenger’s seat. “You almost got yourself killed!”

“Good morning to you too, Seungcheol.”

The man’s nostrils flared. “I mean what am I supposed to do if you fucking snap your neck in the middle of the street?”

“I don’t know. What would gangster Seungcheol do, call one-one-two?” you mused, biting your lower lip to mask your smile.

He rolled his eyes, blinking rapidly. “Fucking put your seatbelt on,” he hissed, moving his hand to the gear stick, shifting it before the car started moving. “One-one-two, tch.”

You smiled quietly, crossing the belt over your chest, clicking it softly once you secured it. “Are you taking me to Jeonghan?” you asked promptly.

This had been your modus operandi for the past few months. You would stay home, watch your fiancé’s every move, sleuthing on his business as much as you could. Then you would get a text message every two weeks or so, sometimes to check in on you, sometimes to take you in.

The times you were taken in were the best.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol said with ease. In all this time, you had earned his trust with little to no effort since all you had to do was follow the plan and be honest.

“To his home?” you asked once you realized you were heading north.

“He’s not in the city. He’s taking a few days off to recover from a burnout,” Seungcheol explained.

Your heart dropped upon hearing that, you turned to see Seungcheol’s face, but all you got from his side profile was seriousness. So you turned to the window again, not letting him get a glance of the worry masking your features.

The ride was silent. However it was the kind of silence you welcomed, it made you feel safe and not like something was about to go off.

Jeonghan lived in a quiet, but rich neighborhood. His house was secluded, sitting atop of a hill, and surrounded by trees. It felt like visiting an island, whenever you came here. You were always driven, dropped off, and then collected.

Your visits were scarce, you could count them with your fingers on one hand. And each time you visited was just for business. Never quite as an invitation.

You closed the door, waving off at Seungcheol who only nodded his head at you, driving off on the snow-covered concrete in his expensive car.

To get to the front door, you had to follow a path surrounded by nature, trees, and grass. Boots crunching on snow as you went down to stand in front of a door to an eerily quiet house, where the were lights off.

You knocked your fist in a familiar rat-a-tat and waited.

Jeonghan came to the door, yanking it open and stepping aside to let you in, locking the door as you sheltered yourself from the cold wind.

“Hey,” you mumbled demurely, avoiding his gaze as you covered your face with your hands, trying to warm them up.

“Cold?” he asked, he almost sounded like he was smiling.

“Yeah,” you replied, sucking in a breath.

“Let’s go to the living room, warm you up.”

Your tummy tightened nervously. “Alright,” you sighed, following him in his spacious home.

Jeonghan had an expensive taste. Not only from the clothes he wore or the car he drove. His house was huge, way bigger for just one person to live in it. It almost felt like he did not even live there. The place was tidied, there were no family pictures, no memorabilia, no signs that someone even liked living there.

“Take a seat,” he muttered softly, pointing to the long black velvet couch in front of the warm faux fireplace.

You did as he asked, feeling much better once you got closer to the heat coming the heater. The flatscreen played soft jazz music, and the lamps in the corners of the living room were on, providing a cozy warm light to the space.

“How have you been?” you asked, searching his face.

“I’ve been better,” Jeonghan said, reclining on the sofa across from you. There was a blanket thrown to one side, and you suspected he had been sleeping there before you knocked on his door.

Jeonghan looked tired, his face colorless even under the warm yellow tone coming from the lamps. He avoided your eyes too, maybe because he did not want to face your scrutiny.

“Why did you call for me?”

His dreamy eyes found you.

“I’ve given you all the information I’ve gathered so far,” you elaborated. “And Hyunjun’s left for the rest of the week, so I don’t know what else I am useful for.

“I don’t want to talk about work tonight,” he muttered, blinking away from your gaze.

“Jeonghan,” you started, moving from the couch to sit beside him. “You said you would tell me everything.”

Jeonghan frowned, this time he did not avoid your eyes as you read his face. “I did not want you to spend Christmas Eve on your own.”

Christmas Eve. The concept seemed so foreign to you because it had been so long since you practiced anything festive during that night. You had even forgotten about it completely.

Jeonghan knew your fiancé was away since you had informed him of everything almost every day. From his deals with the cops of the city to his trips with his affairs.

“Thank you,” you whispered, swallowing a lump of heavy emotions down your throat.

“No, thank you for coming,” he replied. “I might not be a light company to keep around, but I knew you’d be lonely tonight, and I am too, so,” he shrugged, rising from the couch with a small grunt.

“I like your company very much,” you whispered, sheepishly looking away before you could see his reaction.

Your relationship with Jeonghan so far has been strictly limited to talking about business. He was a man who went straight to the point, with no detours, no tangents. And you liked that.

But sometimes, he gave you mixed signals, such as inviting you to his house on Christmas Eve.

The silence dragged on. You looked at him again, thinking that you might have overstepped with your statement.

But Jeonghan looked pleased. He was lying on his side on the long velvety couch, supporting half of his body on his elbow, stroking a cushion with his lithe fingers. In his eyes, you saw something akin to victory. As if he were resolute after hearing your meek confession.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, pushing his body from the couch, and rising to his feet.

Instead of walking towards the kitchen, the man turned to the couch where you were sitting, pacing until he stood in front of you.

He stretched out his hand to grab your chin, gently pinching your skin with two fingers. “Mn? There’s food ready in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied when you found your mouth to speak, standing up only after he motioned you out of the living room.

The kitchen was spacious, well well-lit. The countertops were grey, and the cupboards white. There was a glass table, adorned with candles, different plates full of food to the brim.

“Tsk, I told her not to do this,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the candles in the middle of the table and a small vase with flowers in it.

“Did you have someone help you?” you prompted, looking at the man lower his gaze in utter shyness.

“Saori, my housekeeper. She helps me with the more…. Challenging stuff around the house,” he muttered, pouting softly as he looked at the table. “I asked her to make a simple dinner for two people…”

“Everything looks delicious,” you noted, and you did not realize just how hungry you were until you got the smell of beef, and rice, and then looked at all of the side dishes, elegantly plated around the candles.

“Please,” he reacted at once, pulling out a chair for you.

“Thanks,” you whispered, sitting down, and looking around, expecting him to sit on the opposite side of you.

But he chose to sit on the chair next to yours, still avoiding your gaze as he egged you to start eating.

“So,” you prompted. “The more challenging stuff?” you arched an eyebrow.

Jeonghan showed you a shy smile, but one that took over his face, making his eyes turn into half-moons. “I suppose you don’t expect me to know how to cook, but I do,” he raised his palms at you. “Granted, I’m not the best cook, but I don’t have time to do it. Saori helps me with that.”

You munched on your food as you looked at him explaining. “Well, you’re lucky because Saori is a great cook,” you nodded. “This is delicious.”

“Oh, is that the galbi?” his mouth parted as he took a look at your plate. “Yeah, she’s exceptional. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

But your heart deflated a little bit. “Do you live alone?” you dared to ask.

“Yes,” he replied without much care. “I don’t mind it. I go to the city a lot, so I don’t spend a lot of time here as much as I would want to.”

You held your questions for the rest of the dinner, only replying to those he made at you or commenting on the food. It felt strange to share a moment like this with Jeonghan, not uncomfortable, just out of the ordinary.

After you and him were done with the food, he propped his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together before placing his chin on them. “You look satisfied,” he murmured.

His sweet eyes were lively. Happier than you had ever seen him, even though there was still a note of exhaustion on his features. Under the candlelight, Jeonghan looked gorgeous. Heavenly, his sweet brown eyes outlining your face, his short dark hair tussled but somehow fell perfectly in place, his shiny creamy skin.

“I am,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

He remained silent, looking at you for a moment before reclining back on his seat. “Any news from your sister?” he asked with caution lacing his tone.

Your tummy clenched in anxiousness. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about work.”

“This isn’t work,” he arched an eyebrow. “This is your family.”

Jeonghan was fully aware that Kiki was only your friend. But he still referred to her as your sister every time the topic came up.

“I’ll be able to speak to her soon, Hyunjun told me so,” you stammered around the name of your fiancé. “He said she’s still in Greece.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “She’s not in Greece,” he muttered, an annoyed look twisting the features of his face.

“How do you know?” you asked. You had already formed your suspicions in your head but never went anywhere with them.

“He’s saying that to keep you in line,” he moved his hands to rest on his abdomen, nodding his head once. “The bastard probably has her somewhere in the country.”

Your heart throbbed painfully before you could even collect your words. “Do you think she’s alright?” you asked. “Do you think he’d do something to her?”

He shrugged. “Probably, though I wouldn’t think too much about that,” he said. “It won’t do you any good to think your sister is suffering. Just focus on getting her back.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you whispered, looking at the table absentmindedly.

Jeonghan rose from the table, and you followed his tall frame with your eyes.

“Is it wise to drink while you’re recovering?” you asked, watching him approaching the bar in one corner of the kitchen.

“Want one?” he offered, lifting a bottle to his view. “This is a Japanese whisky. Very rare. And expensive.”

You could tell he was not looking to impress you, by the tone he used to describe the bottle he was tipping into a glass, you knew he meant it in an unconcerned manner. “Sure,” you mumbled.

He returned, handing you a glass, which you grabbed with two shaky hands, giving him a word of thanks. “I really feel like drinking one tonight,” he muttered, returning to his seat.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked, noticing the pink color on his lips.

“Eh, I think I’ll feel better tomorrow after this,” he said offhandedly. “I’ve always been sickly, since I was a kid even. So this is not new to me.”

“Mm,” you nodded in understanding. “Isn’t that stressful?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach upon uttering that question. You felt like you could talk to Jeonghan. Given that you had learned to trust him over the past few months. But this was different, this was personal. With any other human being, this would unfold into a light conversation.

But this was Yoon Jeonghan. Not just anyone.

“It is,” he replied, lowering his gaze, darned by his set of heavy eyelashes. “I’ve been doing this for years and one thing I have learned is that it won’t get any easier.”

“I know,” you muttered, remembering all those times you saw your father bedridden, nearing his death. Just like he was now. “How do you get by?”

“This helps,” he raised his glass, a smirk drawing on his lips. “I know that it’s bad to show weakness, so it wouldn’t be smart for me to be sick all the time. So I kept myself hidden, no one knows I’m the boss, I draw no attention from the law. Or from other gangs.”

Or your fiancé.

“So is that your code?” you asked, trying to remove yourself from that first caution you felt around him.

“Like a code of honour you mean?” Jeonghan smiled after clicking his tongue. “No. I don’t think I have one.”

You sipped the whiskey, which indeed tasted intense, sweet, and woody. “Ah, come on, you must have a code. Everyone does.”

“I really don’t,” he chuckled, pouting as he gathered his thoughts. “I just have two rules. I don’t force violence upon the innocent, and I always keep my word.”

His sweet gaze locked on yours for a second, making your tummy flutter, your heart pounding with something you had never felt before in your life. It felt like a punch in the stomach. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the serotonin from having a conversation that felt humane.

“So, like a code of honour,” you chuckled, the sound bubbling out of your mouth.

Jeonghan stilled for a second, his eyes flashing over the features of your face. “Maybe,” he conceded, uttering the word with a mere whisper.

You stared at each other for a second.

“I should go back,” you croaked, reaching for your phone, and realizing that it was already ten o’clock. “It’s late.”

“I’ll have someone pick you up,” he muttered, equally distracted. He excused himself from the table, making a phone call promptly to have someone take you back home.

So you sat there, thinking of that passing surge of emotions. You had heard stories, seen it in film, read in books. But you had never believed it, until now. 

Maybe you liked Jeonghan a little too much.

Some moments later, he returned, stopping before the end of the table, a worried look on his face.

“What?” you uttered.

“Nothing,” he gaped, seemingly lost in his thought, raising his phone to your view. “There’s a heavy snowfall happening in the city, it is not bad right now so someone could come pick you up, but it’ll get worse later on your way back.”

“Oh,” you thought of what to do, maybe you could search for somewhere to stay, maybe you could…

“I have a spare bedroom, two actually,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind having you over. Until it is safe for you to come back. Is that okay with you?”

“I don’t mean to–,”

“Please,” he said. “I insist.”

You thought of everything that Jeonghan has done for you. True, he was also doing it for your benefit, but you felt there was more to it than him just trying to keep you safe. He wanted you there. Just like you wanted to be near him.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Good,” he nodded too.

The silence between you returned, that silence that did not feel unpleasant but felt like it was squeezing the air out of your lungs. The overwhelming feeling returned to your bones, tingling at your fingertips.

“I should probably…” you whispered, beginning to clean the table off.

“Leave that,” he sighed, coming closer to stop you. “Don’t be ridiculous, leave that.”

You grabbed the used plates, the chopsticks, placing them neatly in a pile to take them to the sink. “Just let me rinse this at least,” you muttered, trying to bite the smirk fighting to get to the features of your face.

“I said leave that,” he gritted, grabbing the plates from your hand.

Now, even if he was tall and thin, Jeonghan was not weak at all. His strength overpowered your own, laughing as he swiftly took the plates from your hands without much effort.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed when he nearly dropped one of the banchan bowls.

The sound you emitted made him chuckle even harder. “Relax, I have it under control,” he muttered turning away to put the pile into the sink.

“Sure you do,” you said under your breath, continuing to tidy the table.

“You’re stubborn,” he shook his head disapprovingly. “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

You were in the middle of your task, but knowing his house was big, you had no choice but to leave the plates there. Running off to where he disappeared to, which was a long hall that had windows on one side looking to the exterior.

It was snowing heavily outside, wind slamming against the trees, the path you had walked on covered in a layer of snow already.

“I think I have some new toothbrushes, I’ll give you one,” he said, opening one of the three doors at the end of the hall and turning on the light for you.

The bedroom was simple. White walls, one twin bed, two bedside tables with lamps on them and a bathroom.

“I could maybe lend you a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for you to sleep in them, if you do that sort of thing,” he muttered beside you as you looked at the very minimalistic bed.

“That sort of thing?” you looked at him, standing beside you so closely it robbed the air out of your lungs.

“Yeah, sleeping with clothes on?” he arched one eyebrow.

“Oh,” you blinked, shamefully shaking your head. “Jeonghan!”

He chuckled again, but this time deviously. Such a tease.

“I think I’ll take the clothes, thank you,” you said, pacing to the foot of the bed, wanting to sit on the navy blue covers.

“I’ll be right back,” he pushed himself off the doorframe, opening the door in front of yours.

The room was exactly the same as the one you were staying in, the only difference was that it looked slightly more lived in. Clothes were dropped on a chair, you saw a suitcase on the floor, the lamp was turned on, a frame placed on the bedside table.

“Here,” he extended his hand out to you when he came back.

The clothes were neatly folded, a new toothbrush sitting on its package on top of the black t-shirt he was lending you.

“Thank you,” you said, sneaking a tentative look at him.

Only to find that short pang of nervousness shooting down your spine again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he retreated, taking a step back. “Have a good night.”

And then he slipped through the door of the bedroom, closing it behind him.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you changed your clothes into the ones Jeonghan lent you. They were soft, and recently washed. They smelled of fabric softener, and of him.

You decided to forgo your bra, slipping the cotton t-shirt over your frame. When you slid under the bedsheets, you sighed under the welcoming weight of the heavy covers, stretching your limbs on the comfy mattress to start warming up.

There was a window, covered by blackout curtains. You could hear the wind hitting against the walls, the leaves rustled under the mercy of the heavy snowfall. Closing your eyes, you wondered if Jeonghan was already asleep. You wondered if he thought of you at all.

You turned over on your side, trying your best to keep your eyes close, to shut out the world outside and sleep.

Inevitably, your thoughts wandered to that moment between you and Jeonghan. You thought how it felt to have an honest conversation with him. To laugh with him. It was so cruel to be shut out in your own little world, you could not even remember when the last time was you laughed.

If it was like this for you, you could not even dare to imagine how it must be for someone like Jeonghan. Your heart ached at the thought.

Fifteen minutes turned into half an hour, then into a full hour. You turned to your other side, stretching an arm to the empty side of the bed, the bedsheets cold against your skin. You shuddered.

You ran your tongue against your upper teeth, tasting the fresh minty toothpaste, realizing you were thirsty. You cannot just go grab a glass of water, this is not your home.

But you were so thirsty it was hard to swallow. Part of you was convinced that it was just a random, normal moment of thirst. Totally not caused by the throbbing feeling inside you, pushing you off the bed.

The floor was cold beneath your feet as you had expected, but you drew in a hiss, nonetheless. You opened the door ever so slowly, managing to keep your movements light and quiet as you exited the bedroom.

You paced through the long hall, now noticing the frames hanging on the wall. There was a watercolor painting, and a diploma hanging beside it. That was the moment you learned Jeonghan had a degree in law.

You huffed quietly, resuming your mission to get a glass of water. When you entered the kitchen, you found out that the table had been cleaned, the dishwasher humming softly as you approached the sink, grabbing a glass to pour cold water into it.

You gulped three times, refreshing your throat with a pleased sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” Jeonghan muttered.

Your whole body jolted so hard you nearly dropped the glass to the floor, gasping loudly, a hand covering your mouth. “God!” you gasped.

“Hey,” Jeonghan raised his palms at you, smiling lightly. “Sorry, but you are incredibly unaware of your surroundings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” you yelped, putting the glass back into the sink, annoyed that he had startled you so badly.

“You never notice when someone’s tailing you,” he shrugged, advancing towards you.

True, you never did notice all the times when he was near you, or noticing you around when you thought you were out of sight.

“Because you’re stealthy as fuck for no reason!” you exclaimed with a higher tone.

Jeonghan emitted a silly giggle, bending over a little as he looked at you joyfully. “You’re just easy to scare, sweetheart,” he leaned back against one side of the kitchen island, crossing his arms. “So?”

“I can’t sleep,” you conceded, leaning back against the counter, standing face to face with him. You sneaked a look at his eyes. “You?”

“Same,” he shrugged. “I tend to be light sleeper, anything wakes me up.”

Ah, you mouthed. Hearing the noise from the strong winds of winter slamming against the house.

“Why are you awake, though?” he asked, and you knew he was not satisfied with your earlier excuse.

“I just have a lot in my mind,” you replied with honesty. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“Well, maybe if you let those thoughts out, you might be able to sleep,” he muttered, his voice sweet and welcoming like a hug.

You wondered what his hugs felt like.

“I… don’t think I can tell you, Jeonghan,” you replied shyly, dropping your gaze to your feet.

“You don’t want to tell me or can’t tell me?” he pushed himself off the countertop, taking two steps towards you, making you drag your gaze back to his face.

Even in the dark, you could see that glint of cunning in his eyes. You sucked in a breath, pressing your back against the counter when he stood mere inches in front of you. You must be ovulating, you thought, grabbing at the rim of the counter with both hands.

Jeonghan waited, tilting his head to one side as he watched you. Starting from your face, your neck, your arms, your hands, his gaze swam all over you, absorbing you in.

Then a nimble knuckle brushed against the engagement ring that was hugging your finger. The touch did not even land on your skin, but you felt it everywhere, igniting every nerve ending.

“I think you know,” you whispered.

His lower lip pursed slightly. “I want to hear it,” he murmured, his sweet voice weakening, becoming raspy. “I need to hear you say it,” he fixed his gaze on your face again, defiantly.

“Jeonghan, why did you call for me?” you asked, every emotion you had felt before choking you out.

“Tell me first,” he shook his head lightly, propping his hands beside yours on the counter, leaning over you.

“I can’t,” you breathed, trying to move back as he drew in closer. An empty smile curving your lips. “I’m engaged to someone, Jeonghan.”

“Someone you despise,” he growled under his breath. “When was the last time you felt safe with him?”

You swallowed back your arguments. Did Jeonghan know that you had never felt safe around Hyunjun? Even when you thought you loved him, you were always walled up.

“Why did you agree to come here?”  

The question was clear, but it answered what you also needed to know. Jeonghan knew it too, the glint in his eyes told you that much.

Intrigued, he went on. “Why do you look at me like that?” he asked. “The way you talk to me, when you smile… I know you feel something,” he whispered, reading your face swiftly, over, and over. “Tell me. Tell me, please.”

You realized that he was asking you for his own good. As if he needed you to turn him down before he did something totally wrong and unwise. Or as if he needed you to tell him what he was thinking, to do it anyway.

“Jeonghan…” you muttered right before he captured your lips with his own in a ghostly kiss, you closed your eyes, a low hum bubbling in your throat.

“Stop me,” he dared. “Stop me now.”

You grabbed his face with your hands, pulling him closer. “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Jeonghan let out a raspy groan, returning to your lips with another kiss. This time, he went deeper, kissing you chastely, heatedly, as if he could not break away from you. His hand found your hip, pressing himself to your front.

He broke away, your lips resounding with a wet smacking noise. He breathed against your mouth, swallowing your breath as you were doing to his own. It tasted sweeter than you had ever dared to imagine.

“Come to my room with me?” he breathed, pressing his forehead on yours, leaning your face so he could press a wet, slow kiss on your lips.

Damned be your hormones. Or the whisky. The snow. Damned be your fiancé. Damned be everything. You were touched starved. Lonely.

But you could not fool yourself any longer: you had never felt this way before. It was electrifying.

You vaguely remembered how you felt when Hyunjun kissed you hours before. The emptiness of his kiss, like all of the other kisses that preceded it.

Testing, you pressed your lips against his again, and he reciprocated at once. The taste of his soft lips was sweet, minty. His kiss pulled you in, like the force of two magnets, his fingers clenching your waist gently.

Kissing Jeonghan was like taking a breath after feeling suffocated for so long.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, so close to his lips, your hands slid from his cheeks, your fingers gingerly touching his jawline. “If we do this, I don’t think I can go back to how we were… This is dangerous. For both of us.”

“Trust me, I know. Even being near you it’s signing a fucking death sentence,” he replied softly, there was no snark or venom in his words. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to be this close to you again. I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“Wanted me?” you asked with a tiny voice.

“This is complicated, and crazy, and a bad idea. I know,” he whispered, in his eyes you saw a flash of worry. “If you don’t want this, I’ll go back to my room. I’ll never bring this up again.”

You noticed the weird, dejected way he said those last words. Your heart instantly ached, making you shake your head.

Jeonghan saw the remorse hitting you. “I need an answer, sweetheart,” he pleaded softly, as though he already knew what you were thinking, but needed you to say it aloud.

“Promise me you will take care of me?” you whispered.

“I promise.”

You were crazy, you had to be crazy. But his kiss was so alluring, his attention so tempting you could not hold yourself back. Your hand cupped his chin, and he finished leaning over to kiss you fervently, almost as if he wanted to melt into you.

Jeonghan moaned when your tongue outlined his lower lip, the quiet, guttural sound making your skin tingle. “Let’s go to my room,” he grunted in your mouth, pausing just to say that before diving into your lips again.

Your hands slid from his chin to his hard chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. You needed to hold him, to feel him.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Jeonghan grabbed your hand, the cold metal around your finger pressing on his skin as he pulled you, motioning you to his bedroom. Your pulse quickened, quickly making you feel lightheaded.

You got to his bedroom, which was nearly identical to the one he assigned you. The lamp was still on, which led you to believe that he did not even try to sleep. But you could not pay attention to the fleeting thought. 

Jeonghan pulled you closer, using his hand on yours to draw you in. His hands cupped your face, inhaling your breath as he resumed kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, hands roving all over his back, stopping before the band of his sweats. 

“Mmf,” you let out a half moan in his lips, trying to speak up but he would not let you, kissing you ravenously, as if he could not get enough from your lips. And honestly, you would be doing the same thing, if it was not for your aching need to undress him. 

Your hands went around his waist, trailing down until your fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, tugging at it sheepishly. “Should we take this slow?” you whispered, the anxious feeling in your throat making your voice wane.

“No,” he decided at once. “We’ll have another night to take it slow. I need you right now.”

The words nearly sent you into a frenzy. You kissed him again, though briefly, your hands were finding his abdomen, feeling his skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, so close to you that you could feel the slow smirk pulling the corners of his lips.

You hiked his t-shirt up his torso, uncovering his milky white skin to your view.

“Lie down,” he rasped, kissing you repeatedly.

You followed his command without a second thought, walking backwards until you found the bed with the back of your knees. You sat down first, backing up to the center of the bed, and he followed.

Jeonghan lied on his side, next to you, propping his body on one elbow as his other hand reached out to cup your cheek, pulling you into a wet, passionate kiss. You hummed in his mouth when his tongue rolled inside yours, your hands grabbing him, trying to pull him closer.

“What are you doing, baby?” he muttered with an amused look on his face.

You gently caressed his skin with your hands, feeling his slender collarbones under your fingertips, his chest, all the way down to his abdomen. The tip of your thumb dipped lightly into his belly button, eliciting a soft gasp from him, a smirk drawing on his face when you brushed the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“Don’t tease me,” he rasped, daring you again.

The corners of his lips tugged slightly when you curled your fingers on the waistband of his sweats, sending quick looks to your eyes and back to your hands. You bit your lower lip, grabbing the band of his boxers too, noticing the bulge under his sweats.

You got to your knees, tugging the waistband down as Jeonghan lifted his hips for you. You shuddered upon seeing his hard cock slapping his lower abdomen. You took his pants and boxers off, leaving him utterly naked on the covers of his bed.

Before you could even touch his skin, kiss him in places you so utterly wanted, his hands were pushing you back on the mattress. You complained with a loud gasp, finding a playful smirk on his face.

“Behave and I’ll give you what you want,” he muttered, placing his hands at each side of your head, leaning over to press a kiss on your lips, its sweetness betraying the firmness of his command.

A quiet moan left your mouth when he pressed another soft kiss on your lower lip. His dark gaze looking at you as he pulled away slightly, but keeping some inches from your face. “Mn? Will you be good for me, pretty?”

“Yeah. I’ll do whatever you want me to,” you replied, blushing over how turned on you sounded already.

But it made Jeonghan smile, a hand brushed your cheek endearingly, blowing you away with its gentleness. “You’re going to kill me,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours, stealing a chaste kiss from you, then another.

You felt the weight on pillows shift on the sides of your face, seconds later you felt Jeonghan’s hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, caressing your skin with his cold fingers. He backed away once he hooked his fingers on the band of your panties, grabbing your sweats too.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered softly.

“Shh, be patient,” he smirked, pulling back to his knees, dragging your clothes down your legs.

Your heart pounded frantically in your throat, but you kept your eyes on him, following each movement, darting looks down his beautiful naked body. He sighed under a smile, his hands caressing your thighs with a feather-light touch, gently egging you to part them for him.

“Good girl,” he muttered, leaning over you again, pushing the t-shirt up to your breasts with his hand, caressing your skin in the process. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Hannie,” you sighed, eyelids fluttering wildly as his touch ignited you again.

Jeonghan smiled. “I like that,” he whispered, referring to the nickname you used. He leaned to press a loving kiss on your sternum, making you jolt in nervousness. “So responsive,” he hummed approvingly, darting a testing look at your eyes before pressing a kiss on the swell of your breasts, making a short trail to your nipple.

“God,” you sighed, letting your eyelids fall close. Your hand found the back of his head, fingers coiling around the strands of his black hair.

He muffled a giggle in your chest, littering it with wet, open kisses. He tasted, licked, and nibbled your skin, showering it with so much love you quickly became drunk, moaning, squirming and uttering his name.

Your skin prickled as he placed another open kiss right below your belly button, glancing at your face as he moved to push his hands on your thighs, angling you open for him.

“J-jeonghan,” you stuttered, tensing your spine as he placed a sweet kiss on your inner thigh, “God, please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, being so long since you had been touched like this, it felt like fireworks going off inside you at each touch, each kiss…

“Patience, baby girl,” he muttered softly, nibbling your inner thigh, the enjoyment flashing on his face when a moan bubbled in your mouth.

“Please, please, please,” you whispered over and over, his reminder nearly going unnoticed by your pleas.

“Mmmn, you’re becoming bratty,” he muttered, still taking his sweet time teasing you with kisses on your inner thighs, running his tongue on your skin, eliciting a loud yelp from you.

You turned your head onto the pillow, trying to muffle your moans, snapping your eyes open when he finally pressed a kiss on your mound, then another on your clit. You shuddered in pleasure, your arousal pooling in your entrance.

“So needy,” he tutted again, and you knew by his tone that he was smiling.

You nearly choked on a gasp, hands flying to grab at the covers when he pushed his tongue between your folds, giving you a long stroke with his tongue against your cunt, drinking you in with a raspy moan on his part.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned weakly, easing your back on the mattress, closing your eyes, relishing in the sweet pleasure his mouth was giving you. “Oh, Jeonghan…”

He clutched your hips, licking every inch of your pussy lips teasingly, then his hands slid up your tummy, finding your breasts to fondle them, pushing his tongue on your clit at the same time. An airy moan spilled from your lips, trying to keep as quiet as possible as his tongue started drawing figures around your clit, getting it to swell.

You had to bite down your lip, releasing the covers from your tight grip to prop yourself to your elbows. The sight of him eating you out was so alluring you swore you could come from it alone. He raised his dark eyes, finding your face, probably seeing the awe and the pleasure written in it.

Jeonghan smiled, curving his lips slightly as his tongue worked on your clit, you moaned again, thighs tensing at his sides, bumping against the sides of his face.  

“I’m close, Hannie,” you sighed, welcoming the long forgotten tension coiling deep inside you, your chest falling and rising faster.

His hands grabbed your thighs to keep you open for him, slipping two fingers inside your throbbing walls, his tongue switching the motion of the tip of his tongue on your clit, darting from side to side on it.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, writhing on the bed, feeling that tension finally snap inside you, washing over you. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming…” you tilted your head back, fingers tangling in his hair as you came undone with lewd moans and ragged breaths.

You stroke his hair languidly, coming down from your high as he continued eating you out, licking the arousal pooling in your core, the sensitiveness in the area making you jolt.

Jeonghan kissed your mound, pulling out his fingers out of your walls before sneaking a playful look at you. “Hey,” he mumbled, crawling to you as you lied back on the pillows.

“Hey,” you whispered, wiping your arousal from his chin with one hand.

He kissed you again. “You’re good?” he asked.

“I’m good, Jeonghan,” you giggled sweetly, surprised that he would stop mid-sex to check in on you.

“God, I love that sound,” he sighed, his fascinated gaze outlining your features.

Your heart stammered. “Yeah?” you taunted, smirking at him. “What else do you love about me?”

“Everything,” he drawled drunkenly, planting more kisses on your lips, humming when your hands roamed on his back. “Everything,” he repeated, as though he had not found a single thing about you he disliked.

“Mmn,” you hummed in his lips, tasting yourself in them.

A hand returned on your tummy, blindly finding the t-shirt and motioned you to help him take it off you. Your bodies moved in synchronicity, you sat up just as he sat back, throwing the t-shirt once he removed it, grabbing your chin with one hand to steal another kiss on your lips.

“Are you on birth control, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, but it had a slight gruffness in it.

“No,” you muttered, your heart falling to your stomach. “Do you have condoms?”

“No,” he bit his lower lip, eyebrows pinching softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone.”

The statement was nearly hurtful for you. Jeonghan was the most alluring man you had ever met. But you knew you had to be insane when a thought flashed in your head, not caring about anything else.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cupping his face with your hands. “Me too.”

Jeonghan did not question this, but he remained frozen, as if unsure of how to proceed. “What do you want to do?”

Your heart fluttered uneasily, looking at his features. “I want you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands falling from his face but found his waist, clutching him gently. “I want to feel you. Please…”

He pushed you back onto the covers again, placing his hands on each of your sides. But you realized that he had not conceded yet, his eyes were going over your face over and over, a sign that the gears in his brain were turning.

“Are you sure?” he muttered, smiling when you nodded eagerly. “God, baby, you’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy too,” you smirked.

Jeonghan made no reply to this. His hand cupped your cheek, slotting his lips in yours to kiss you deeply, humming into your mouth as he positioned his body between your legs.

Blindly, following his lips with your seamlessly, your hand found his length, stroking him slowly, thumb brushing the beads of precum leaking from its tip. Jeonghan moaned, his hand falling beside you on the pillow for support.

You guided his cock between your legs, breath hitching nervously when the tip slid between your pussy lips, covered in your arousal. Jeonghan gasped too, breaking the kiss to look at you in the eyes.

There were no words exchanged, just looking at each other as you nudged his tip against your pooling entrance. Jeonghan pushed his cock inside you, stretching your walls slowly. His mouth parted, letting out a silent groan as you moaned lewdly, squirming beneath him.

“You’re good?” he choked out, retracting his hips one inch to push back in.

“I’m good,” you stammered, fingers trembling on his waist, trying not to sink your fingernails on his skin. It had been a while since you had some action happening in your life, and although Jeonghan was not big, his length fit inside you perfectly, his tip pressing in one particular sensitive spot.

“I’m going to start moving, baby,” he whispered, meeting his hips with your own.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you sighed, trying to relax under his weight.

But you were nervous. Intoxicated by the smell of his neck, skin prickling when he pressed his chest on yours, hypnotized his lips moaning your name. No one had ever made you felt like this.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “Relax, sweetheart… or this might end too soon,” he whispered in your ear.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You feel so good, Hannie…”

That made him smile, sending a powerful shudder through your body. “Put your legs around me,” he gave his command gently, and you followed it.

Now you were practically clinging to him, following the gentle motions of his hips on you. You closed your eyes briefly, easing the tension between your legs when his thrusts picked up the pace, going a little faster on you.

Jeonghan grunted quietly, making you open your eyes to find his gaze.

“You’re good?” you asked meekly.

He smiled endearingly at you. “Amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You feel incredible,” he told you between kisses, pressing them on your lips.

You moved one hand to cup his face, still hugging him with one arm.

His gaze shifted, your hand caressing his cheek making him close his eyes for a moment.

Then something caught your eye. The cold ring hugging your finger was also pressing to his cheek, his eyebrows drew inward slightly, gasping softly as he blinked at you. Your heart deflated, seeing his demeanor had changed in a second. You almost wanted to pause and remove your engagement ring, but you also knew that it was too late.

Even though Jeonghan knew you did not love your fiancé, you were not a free woman.

But he was claiming you as his, his hips pushed against yours harder, knocking the air from your lungs. You removed your hand from his cheek, placing it on the covers of the bed.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck!” he exclaimed, dropping his forehead on the pillow, next to your face.

His thrusts slowed down sloppily, breathing raggedly against the pillow. It took you some seconds to understand he was resisting his climax for you.

You carefully used the tips of your fingers to stroke his hair. Jeonghan was groaning languidly, moving his cock with shallow thrusts inside you.

“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” he rasped in your ear.

Your tummy tightened anxiously. “I promise,” you replied.

As he breathed on your neck, you could get the faint smell of his neck, of his hair. You hugged him tightly against your body, welcoming his warmth, deciding that you would never want anyone else.

You must be crazy.

He raised his head to look at you, his gaze had darkened. “No one else touches you,” he breathed. “No one but me.”

“I promise,” you parroted mesmerizingly.

He leaned on you again, cupping your chin with his hand before pressing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips. “You’re mine,” he muttered drowsily.

A thrilling feeling of exhilaration swept through your body all the way to your brain. “I’m yours.”  

Then he started thrusting his hips against yours, hard and fast, as though hearing your promise sent him into a mad frenzy. You noticed him moving his mouth, babbling nonsense, and moaning out your name.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he tilted your head to meet your lips with his in a soft kiss. Moans spilled from your lips, his gaze going soft when you also mumbled out his name, daring to use your hand to cup his cheek again.

“Jeonghan,” you mewled, hugging him tighter with your legs around his waist.

“You’re close, sweetheart?” he forced out.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby girl?” he asked, smirking softly when you nodded again frantically, thighs starting to shake around him. 

You gasped, feeling so close yet there was something going wrong in your body. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning every time Jeonghan’s cock reached that particular sweet spot in your walls, hitting it with each stroke of his hips against yours.

Jeonghan realized you could not reach your high when you whined, closing your eyes to focus on the tight feeling pooling inside you. A light kiss pressed to your cheek, then below your earlobe. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered shakily on your ear. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“T-talk to me?” you asked meekly.

Jeonghan emitted a giggle that send butterflies to your stomach. “Dirty?”

“God, yes please,” you gasped, giggling upon how needy you sounded at that.

You saw the effect your giggles had on him, a soft sigh falling from his lips. “Stop wrapping your legs around me, or we might end up making a baby,” he muttered gruffly.

A strange feeling bloomed inside you, making you moan salaciously. “Fuck, Jeonghan, please,” you whined. “I’m so close.”

He pulled his body back, grabbing your hips to keep thrusting in. The position of his cock inside you changed too, now pressing on your front walls harder.

Your eyes watered, a raw moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, god,” you gritted.

“You like that?” he smirked, jackhammering into you, making the headboard of the bed slam against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, yes,” you balled your hands into fists at the covers on your sides, back arching as you moaned.

You were so, so fucking close, you ached to come, you needed to come. Pleasure was brimming inside you, wet noises coming from your pussy each time Jeonghan hit his hips against yours.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself yet,” he rasped when he caught sight of your hand inching closer to your mound.

You dropped your hand at your side, whining reproachfully at him. “But I’m close,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes from the unyielding pleasure that just kept on building inside you.

“You’ll come when I want you to,” he sighed out in pleasure too, throwing his head back slightly.

Pressure coiled tighter inside you, walls throbbing around him upon hearing him speaking to you harshly.

He gasped, a single vein throbbing in his neck from the exhaustion growing in his limbs. “Your little cunt’s so tight, baby, do you even finger yourself?”

“S-sometimes,” you choked out, feeling your face burn.

“How do you do it baby?” he asked. “Like this?” he rasped, bringing the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it.

“God, Hannie,” you gasped, pushing the back of your head onto the pillow, biting down your lip to keep any more lewd noises from spilling out again.

Jeonghan noticed this time around, smirking at you with a glint of playfulness. “Be as loud as you want, sweetheart. No one’s around,” he drawled lazily, still thrusting his cock at a delicious pace, rubbing fast swirls on your clit.  

“Oh, god,” you whispered, your legs starting to shake again. “Jeonghan, keep going, fuck, fuck. Help me come, please…”

A fascinated look flashed on his face. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little, bending his head over you to let his spit fall on your cunt perfectly. You moaned at the sight, feeling the pad of his thumb sliding perfectly on your engorged clit, teasing it more.

He kept ramming his cock in your pussy, making the headboard slam louder against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your bodies. You could tell Jeonghan was growing tired, but there was a glint in his eye, he wanted to push you farther, to see what would make you snap.

“Did he ever fuck you like this, baby?” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back a moan.

“Fuck, Jeonghan,” you gritted, arching your back on the bed. Forcing out an honest no under your breath.

He leaned forward, but only slightly, resting his hands on the sides of your waist. “And he fucking won’t,” he muttered softly, taking one of your hands to kiss your palm, uncaring that you still had your ring on. “No one will. You’re mine, mine to ruin.”

You nodded obediently. A rush of exhilaration ran all over your body. “I am.”

Jeonghan looked at you in awe, pausing to grab your legs to hoist them up on his shoulders, resuming to slam his hips on yours, his cock hitting so deep inside you that you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Jeonghan¸ god, yes, yes, right there!” you squealed in pure bliss.

“That’s right baby,” he sighed under a pleased smile. “Come all over me, come on this cock.”  

“I’m coming, Jeonghan. I’m there, I’m there…” you gasped, tasting your sweet orgasm, the feeling of release overwhelming you, buzzing in your ears, making your mind go blank.

Jeonghan read your face, moaning with you as you came around him. “God, baby,” he gritted, pressing his lips against your knee. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuck…” he threw his head back, a raw moan escaping between his clenched teeth.

“Hannie…” you mewled, crying from pleasure brimming inside you, making your walls throb and clamp around him. “Jeonghan, oh my god…”

“I know, baby,” he sighed, still pushing his cock inside your throbbing walls. You smiled slightly at him, coming down from your climax, making him reach his.

With perfect timing, he pulled out of you, spilling himself on your lower tummy with soft and languid, moans. Jeonghan breathed hard, looking at the mess on your skin, spilling until the last drop.

Jeonghan wasted no time, he bent over, capturing your lips with a lewd kiss. “Let’s go clean up,” he whispered between rushed kisses, making you scrunch your nose, giggling lazily. “Then we’ll cuddle, and sleep together. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

Mind fogged, you nodded at him. “I’d like that, Jeonghan,” you whispered back.

“Good,” he gasped, taking a moment to look at your eyes before smiling. “God, you really drive me crazy.”

Once you washed up, you lied in his bed, staring at the ceiling for a while, turning over on your side as he slipped under the covers. He hummed softly, wrapping his arms around your body, snuggling up to you.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, noticing you deep in thought.

Your gaze fell on the portrait neatly placed on his bedside table. In the dark, you could see four figures posing for a family photo. Even if you could not make out the other faces, you could see his. A young brightness painted his face, his smile, the half-moon of his eyes. He was happy.

“Who are they?” you whispered.

“Who?” he muttered, intuiting what you were asking, he followed your gaze. “Ah. They’re my family.”

“Are they safe?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even hold yourself back.

“Yeah, they are,” he whispered calmly, moving his body so he could look at you, propping his weight on his elbow. “I do everything to keep them safe. They don’t really know what I do, and haven’t seen them in years but… I send them things every now and then.”

Your heart broke. And you could not hold yourself back any longer. “I just… I just can’t stand the thought that you’re alone,” you said with a shameful look.

His gaze softened, a shy smile curving his beautiful lips, showing his perfect set of teeth. “Oh, baby. But I’m not alone,” he said, bringing a hand to pinch your chin. “You’re here.”

You grabbed his fingers pinching you softly to press your lips against his pads. “I’ll have to go back eventually.”

“For a while,” he said, his fingers started toying with yours. “We need to keep this up until we find your sister, and we have a clear target on him.”

Your heart deflated at the mention of Kiki, and the sorrow showed on your face.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your gaze back to his. “What’s wrong?”

You caressed his shoulder, gathering your words. “I feel so guilty that she’s being used as leverage,” you whispered, even though it was something you knew was made clear by your actions, saying it aloud felt worse.

“You can’t really change that,” he muttered. “Hyunjun saw a weak spot in you and exploited it. It’s not on you. It’s on him.”

You nibbled on your lower lip, swallowing your tears. “She’s just a kid,” you said. Jeonghan remained quiet, reading your face so you just went on: “She’s just a girl that showed me kindness when no one did. She is not even a part of this world. I let her get close to me and now I don’t even know she’s alright.”

“Why do you say she’s your sister?” he asked with caution, and you knew that he had intended to ask that question before, but refrained from doing so.

“She called me sister a lot, it was quite annoying at first,” you explained, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “Kiki lived in the same neighborhood I used to live in before I got engaged. She was lonely, her parents were either at work or out drinking. So I would keep her company, watch movies with her, talk about boys… eventually I started calling her my sister too.”

Jeonghan showed you a smile, it was sad, but at the same time sweet. “You love her.”

You sniffled quietly, nodding with your head. “I can’t lose her.”

“She’ll be fine, baby,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. “We’ll get her back. I made a promise, remember?”

You smiled weakly at him. “You did.”

And he always kept his promises. No matter the cost.

› four, double dare

After that night, everything changed.

It became increasingly difficult to go back home to your fiancé. One, because you liked him even less than you ever did. Two, because of the burden you felt from cheating on him. And three, because every second you spent away from Jeonghan was miserable to you. 

Granted, you could not remember when the last amicable time was spent with your fiancé. And the weight of infidelity you felt was because you never thought you would cross that line. Even if Hyunjun probably did not care, it felt dirty.

But everything you could think about was that night with Jeonghan. The morning after you slept together, you spent it pressed against his body, barely even stopping to have breakfast. And when it was time to get ready to go, you nearly cried from thinking that this would be a one-time thing.

“Why do you look like that?” Jeonghan had asked, using two fingers under your jaw to lift your face to his view. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t want to go,” you replied, your voice thickening.

A light frown showed on his face. “It’s temporary, baby,” he muttered, gently cupping your face. “When this is all over, you won’t have to leave, you can stay here.”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Did you think that I’d let you go that easily?” he asked with a soft tone. “Sweetheart, how do I make you believe that I want you?”

It was an understatement to say it was hard for you to even concentrate. Your every thought was riddled with memories of him, fantasies of you kissing him again.

You had stopped blaming that first kiss with Jeonghan on your vulnerability. It became clear to you that you had wanted to kiss him way before he even made an advance to you.

Every time your phone buzzed, your heart gave a leap, thinking it was some development, some notice that you would see Jeonghan soon. But days went by, and you did not even get so much as a text message.

Being an informant also meant that you had very little contact with Jeonghan. Assuming that you had to keep your role, you waited. And continued playing the fool.

Hyunjun suspected nothing about your affair, or about you being an informant. Though he was still weary of you and still felt like you wanted to call off the engagement, he never brought the topic to the table.

So you carried on with the plan. You gathered whatever information you could get, played dumb, and got back to Jeonghan.

Sometimes, you would have the opportunity to stay with him, sometimes you would have to settle for some hours. Either way, Jeonghan and you would get the most out of the time you had. You could not get enough of him, and he could not get enough of you.

Weeks turned into months, and soon you entered spring. And even though some time had passed, your affair with Jeonghan was still exciting. And dangerous.

You were sitting on the sofa, reading a book, a finger toying with the corner of the page you were pretending to read.

Hyunjun was handling some business on the phone on the other side of the living room, aloof to your scrutiny. Each sentence he spoke was direct and brief, but as you put them all together, you could tell that Jeonghan’s last move had rattled some of his plans. And stolen a lot of money’s worth of shipment.

Hyunjun was almost cornered. But in that, it also meant that your father’s empire was crumbling too. All your fiancé did was handle your father’s money, and his clients, it was your father’s network, his money, his men.

And by being the sole child, everything was yours by right.

You sighed in faux boredom, looking at your book. Hyunjun shot you a look that you were already expecting and ended his call, pocketing his phone.

“Honey,” he called flatly, making you draw your gaze at him.

“Yes?” you replied sweetly, your tummy tightening upon the action.

Hyunjun walked towards you in the living room, taking the book from your hands once he was standing in front of you. He crouched, so he could look eye to eye with you.

“I was thinking… I don’t want to wait any longer… we should get married,” he said, blinking twice before the corners of his lips pulled in a smile.

Several seconds went on. The wind had been knocked out of you, which served as a good reaction that passed for genuine shock. You opened your mouth, heart palpitating in your throat before you made your choice.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, trying to sound as excited as humanly possible. But everything inside you roared in rage. “Yes, oh my god, yes!”

You knew this day would come.

“Next week?” he muttered, his eyes shining with something you could not quite place. It was not love, it was not sweetness.

It was a man who had finally caught his prey.

“Of course!” your limbs reacted too, managing to wrap his shoulders in a hug, instead of kissing him. Once hiding on his shoulder, your worries came in, shaking in fear and worry. “I waited so long for this…”

When his hands touched your back, it took everything in you not to recoil instantly. “Me too, honey, me too…”

“You should do it,” Jeonghan stated coldly, crossing his arms over his chest, looking fixedly at the table he was standing by.

Your heart fell to your tummy. “But I just told you I don’t want to,” you muttered.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” he said, sighing heavily as he placed both hands on the table, leaning over it and crossing one foot. “Did you agree to do it next week?”

You bit your lower lip, dropping your gaze to the concrete floor before nodding your head silently.

Jeonghan had many hide-outs spread all around the country. The hideout you were in now was a hangar. It was private and had been given an abandoned appearance deliberately. It had everything you would expect to see in a hangar, cargo equipment, old aircraft parts, heavy tooling, and a nice little plane parked off to the side.

The only sources of light were a pair of industrial lights by the table. And some lanterns were placed by the large doors to the hangar, where you could see Wonwoo’s shadow pacing back and forth before the entrance.

You were not alone with Jeonghan. Seungcheol was also pacing in circles, but he was doing so behind Jeonghan, who was still fixating on some floor plans laid on the table.

“We need to act,” Seungcheol gritted, coming to Jeonghan’s side. “We have less than a week to attack then.”

Jeonghan shook his head. “It’s too soon,” he sent you a look that drained all blood from your face. “He knows.”

“He knows what?” Seungcheol spat. “If he knew, then we would be aware,” then he looked at you. “Hyunjun doesn’t know about you informing us, right?”

“I’m not talking about that,” Jeonghan muttered, crestfallen.

“Jeonghan, I don’t think he knows,” you said, but the man was not hearing, he was falling into a self-induced paranoia. 

“He knows about us,” he said and even though the statement was something you were dreading to hear, he spoke it softly.

You went around the large table, standing at his side. “I’d be locked up if he did,” you stammered, trying to draw his gaze back to you. “Think about it, Jeonghan, he is asking me to marry him. He’s playing a game.”

That made him lift his head, his eyes finding yours. “What game do you think he’s playing?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But my guess is that he’s after whatever position of power my family will give him. He’s after my dad’s name.”

“Makes sense,” he said but he was not thoroughly convinced. “Do you think he’s planning on getting rid of him?”

“The man can barely talk but Hyunjun still obeys him,” you mumbled, looking at him for any signs that he was coming back from his panic attack.

“Okay, we can work with that,” Seungcheol sighed, placing his hands on the table as well.

Jeonghan seemed to be snapping out of it, his eyes reading your face over and over. “Marry him,” he blurted.

“What?!” you exclaimed. 

“What?” Seungcheol questioned, huffing when neither Jeonghan nor you said anything, just stared at each other.

“Go on with the wedding,” he said dejectedly, standing up straight, as he would treat regular business. “That way we’ll know when and where he will be, surrounded by all his men. We’ll have the bastard cornered. We could even wait until the guests leave, then we got him.”

“You’re seriously not using me as bait,” you gritted, tears stinging in your eyes from the rage that quickly started building up.

Seungcheol looked astounded too, as though he also had not expected Jeonghan to say this, to form this kind of plan. “Fuck, this is insane,” he breathed, standing back from the table, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“Do you think I’d let you in on this plan if I didn’t know you’d be safe?” he asked in a dangerously low tone. “Do you seriously think I’d be stupid enough to put you in danger?”

“What about the part I marry that fucking lunatic?” you raised your voice, stepping closer to him, making him take a step back from the table. “Did you think about that?”

Seungcheol went completely still, looking at your exchange with Jeonghan. You were sure that Wonwoo and Mingyu had stopped their patrolling to hear from afar. In the very tight-knit circle that Jeonghan had crafted, you were the only one that dared speak to Jeonghan like that, not because they feared him, no.

They simply held him in too much esteem to even talk to him in a condescending way.

“Do you think I fucking want this?” he gritted back darkly.

“Well, yeah! I don’t see you having a hard time telling me to marry him!” you shouted back, limbs trembling in rage and despair.

Jeonghan ran a hand all over his face, muffling a short sigh. “You can’t ask me to have him killed if you’re not willing to do something to–,”

“I go back to him every fucking night, Jeonghan!” your voice was becoming raw from raising it. “I sleep in his bed, I pretend I like him! I can’t be his wife!”

“It’ll be for five fucking minutes!” he said, not quite screaming but his voice was harsh. Harsher than you had ever heard him speak.

“I don’t want to marry him!” you said exasperatedly, throwing your hands at your sides.

“I need him distracted, vulnerable. I need him surrounded by all of his men and far away from the docks. I need everyone in that wedding to believe that you were on his side,” his eyes shone with a madness that if you had been smarter you would have avoided.

“I can’t do it,” you said in a mere whisper. “Please, don’t make me do it.”

“Fuck,” he gritted, scrunching his face in annoyance, he turned away from you, cradling the back of his head with his hands. “Fuck!”

Seungcheol sighed heavily, but in his face there was something written that clearly said, I don’t have anything to do with this. He turned away, raising his hands as he excused himself from the conversation between you and Jeonghan and walked off to the entrance, where the other two men were still snooping. 

Jeonghan turned back to you, still pissed off by the darkness in his eyes, his brow deeply furrowed. Every step he took toward you brought a dull heaviness that made you swallow hard.

“Go on with the wedding, we’ll stop it before it’s over,” he said, tightening his jaws, delivering the next words in that same dejected manner: “You won’t be his wife.”

You could feel the loud thumping of your heart dying down little by little, but your breathing remained erratic, looking at him in utter disbelief. “You bastard,” you hissed, pointing at his face with one finger. “You would have me married to him!”

“He’ll die that night,” he put in simply, clearly not understanding what your complaint was.

“You–,” you gritted, smacking your hands on his chest in a fit of rage. “You’re just like him! You’re all the fucking same!”

“Stop, stop it!” he hissed, grabbing you by the wrists, stopping your feeble attack at once, and pulling you into his chest. “We need to play into his game, like it or now. What if he really suspects about us? What if he already knows that it’s me you’re having an affair with?”

“What if he doesn’t?” you asked, your tone dropping to a mere whisper. “What if this is just him trying to exert power over me? To own me more than he already does?”

Jeonghan went rigid, gritting his teeth as he let out a breath through his nose to calm himself. “He doesn’t own you.”

“He does, Jeonghan,” you argued. “My name is the last thing he’ll have. I won’t allow it.”

At that, he freed his grip on your wrists, but he did not step back. “Fine,” he breathed, clearing his throat once. “I won’t let it happen.”

“I’ll play along during the ceremony, but I won’t say yes,” you conditioned, feeling more at ease once he conceded to you. 

Jeonghan closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids fluttering as he released a sigh of resignation. “You know I don’t want you to do this,” he muttered reluctantly. “You know I’d fucking kill him tonight if there wasn’t so much to lose.”

“Don’t expect me to agree to do things I don’t want,” you replied, the weight of your reaction finally falling on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve–I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m just–, I can’t stop thinking that he knows,” he stammered, blinking utter obfuscation.

“I know,” you whispered.

“I just want to get this over with,” he muttered tiredly, much as if it had drained him to argue with you. And you knew that it was likely, as your body came down from the stress of fighting with him, your limbs grew heavy.

“Trust me, me too,” you dared lifting a hand and cupping the side of his neck. “Listen, when this is all over, we could go somewhere for a while, to forget about this, yeah?”

Jeonghan smiled lazily at you. “You’re not mad at me anymore?” he quipped mischievously.

“Oh, you’re not off the hook yet,” you pointed, giggling shamefully. “I’m still mad, but I will let it slide for now.”

“Mmn,” he hummed pensively, cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling with your hair as he pulled you into a feather-light kiss. “We could go to London,” he muttered. “Or Barcelona.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered into his lips.

“You could take your anger out on me then,” he mumbled, giving you quick heated kisses.

“What about you?” you asked with a low hum as his hand clutched at your waist. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Absolutely,” he said under his breath, even though the sound came ragged, you could feel the smirk spreading on his lips slowly. “Raising your voice at me, hitting me, saying I’m the same as him… You’re in big trouble.”

“Am I?” you challenged, enjoying that glint in his eyes when you pulled back. “You know I didn’t mean that last part,” you said sheepishly. “I was just mad.”

“I like it when you’re mad,” he grunted, his arm sliding on the small of your back to pull you in closer to his body. “I’m afraid I like it a little too much.”

“Seriously?” you giggled, shaking your head at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you like getting on my nerves,” he muttered, kissing you so obsessively that you hummed, trying to pull away from his continuous kisses.

“Jeonghan,” you mumbled, muffling out a short gasp when he started kissing you deeper.

“What?” he replied aloofly.

“There are people in here,” you gasped, pushing a hand on his chest, breaking away from his lips with great reluctance.

“I really don’t care. Do you?” he challenged, grabbing your face with one hand, and squeezing your cheeks a little.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed, giggling in his mouth as his hands slipped on your waist pushing you against the side of the table, your lower back firmly pressed against it.

“What?” he spat now, but you knew he was just challenging you with his tone, his dark eyes piercing your face.

“They’re watching,” you whispered, motioning to the men standing by the entrance to the hangar.

“And?”

At that, you knew you had nothing to say. In the short time you had come to know Jeonghan, you knew he did not give a flying fuck about what people said about him. And he knew that no one would even bat an eye if he decided to take you right there on the table. It was nothing foreign to him, or you now that you were his.

“Do you mind that they’re watching baby?” he asked softly, his hand sliding from your lower back to your waist, squeezing you gently. “You did not have anything to say when we did this back at the workshop…”

You giggled in his mouth when he pressed a chaste kiss on yours.

“Or at the old factory…” he husked, pressing a wet kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Or in the garage…”

And he could go on and on.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head to one side so he could continue marking your neck with his kisses.

“I hate fighting with you,” he confessed, his voice low in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You know that. But you love arguing with me.”

“I don’t,” you breathed, excitement building up in the pit of your stomach, making your fingers tremble in nervousness.

“Don’t lie. You love to rattle me, I think you like to see me mad,” he said, cupping your cheek with one hand to command your gaze to his.

Jeonghan was a different person whenever he got mad. Whenever he was working, he was cold and calculated. Whenever he was with you, he was sweet and caring. But sometimes, you did not know what to expect.

But the truth was, you also liked it when he was mad. Only after the conflict dies down or is resolved, is when you think of how strangely alluring he is whenever he is angry at something.

And Jeonghan knew. 

“Only sometimes,” you replied, flustered by his kisses.

“Mmn, yeah I know,” he said, pressing more kisses on your neck again.

Jeonghan tugged at the hem of the neck of your blouse to uncover more of your skin. He leaned down to kiss your collarbones, humming delightfully when in the process he got the smell of your perfume.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, closing your eyes when his hands came to cup your breasts, enjoying that your bralette allowed him to feel your nipples over the fabric.

“What?” he answered, lifting his head to be eye to eye with you.

You gaped at him for a second, burning under your skin. “Are you going to punish me?”

“Mmm, maybe,” he taunted, a wolfish grin slowly tugging his lips. “Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his tone dropping to a sweeter one.

You bit your lip, nodding your head dumbly.

An airy giggle was muffled in your mouth as he leaned to kiss you, moving down to your ear. “You’re such a needy girl,” he rasped, against your skin, making it prickle. “Open your mouth.”

He cupped your jaw in his palm, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he leaned closer to spit on your open mouth. His warm spit landed perfectly on your tongue, nearly making you swallow as an instinct.

Blushing, you looked at him with your mouth hanging open, waiting for his command. He released your jaw, but you did not dare to close your mouth. Jeonghan smiled at this, knowing that you would wait until he permitted you to do so.

“Close it,” he said, and you did what he asked, but did not swallow. His eyes shone with fascination, looking at you before he decided to let you swallow his spit. “Swallow, baby.”

When you did, he gave you a rewarding kiss, but you knew that the punishment had just begun. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

“I talked down to you,” you replied, squirming slightly when his hands grabbed you by the waist.

“What else?”

“I yelled at you,” you added airily. His hands went down to your hips, going underneath your skirt to feel your thighs, cupping your ass over your tights with a low grunt from him.

“There’s more.”  

You hummed shortly, cupping his nape with one hand, the other clinging onto his shoulder as he groped your ass, kissing your neck. “I hit you. I cursed at you,” you mumbled, feeling hot in the face when you heard hushed voices in the distance.

“There’s one more,” he husked, ignoring that you were both being on open sight.

“I compared you to him,” you stammered. “I said you were just like him…”

“Am I?” he asked, grabbing your hips to turn you around.

“No,” you said, leaning over the table as his hand pressed on your back, the other hiking your skirt up. You crossed your arms beneath your head, hiding your face away from the men that clearly saw Jeonghan bending you over the table.

“I didn’t hear that,” he muttered gruffly.

“You’re not like him,” you said louder, gasping pathetically when you felt his fingers pinching the flimsy material of your tights, ripping a hole into them easily. “I said it to spite you.”

The slap resounded all around you, followed by your yelp. Jeonghan caressed your ass where he just had delivered a firm spank. You muffled a moan when he gave you a second spank, making you ball your hands into fists.

Jeonghan enjoyed this. He liked to take you whenever and wherever he pleased, he did not care if there was someone around, as long as you were in on it too. He liked to see how far you could go with him, and so far, you had never said no.

You enjoyed this just as much as he did.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” he asked gruffly, giving you another spank that sounded even louder than the other two, this one hurt so bad it had tears brimming in your eyes.

But you just burned for more. “Yes,” you mumbled lewdly. Your skin was hot, tingling, and sore. You felt your arousal starting to pool in your panties.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Good girl,” he sighed, bringing his hand down on your ass again.

“God,” you coiled your fingers tighter, moaning when his hand caressed your sore area.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked with a lazy tone, caressing your skin lovingly with one hand, while the other kept your skirt up.

“I need you,” you drawled at once, your cheeks radiating with embarrassment that you did not even want to be worked up. “Don’t play with me... please, sir.”

Jeonghan laughed, making you bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m just getting started,” he sighed, tearing the hole in your tights further. “Want my cock already?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, covering your face with your forearms. “Want it so bad… ngh–,”

His fingers prodded in the middle part of your panties. A flashing thought told you that he might just rip them in two, but instead, he gently moved them aside, using two fingertips to rub your entrance.

“Mmn, baby this got you so wet,” he sighed, pushing his fingers inside you, eliciting a raw moan out of you, so loud that you were sure now that everyone was fully aware of what Jeonghan was doing to you if they were not before.

“Please…” you drawled, squishing your cheek on the table closing your eyes to focus on his long fingers massaging your walls. “I need your cock so bad. Please, sir.”

“Mmn,” he hummed, causing wet sounds to come from the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

Your face was blazing hot, to the point you felt the tips of your ears pulsating with warmth too. “Please, Jeonghan… I’ll be good, please. I won’t talk to you like that again.”

“Why should I believe you this time, baby?” he asked with a soft tone. “I remember punishing you for that exact thing last time.”

“I’ll let you… I’ll let you breed me.”

His fingers stilled inside you, and you heard a soft sigh that made you think that he was smiling. “Fuck… fuck, baby,” he let out a raspy chuckle.

You turned your head over your shoulder, sending him a meek look as he undid the button of his jeans with one hand, while he pulled his fingers out of you, taking them onto his mouth to lick your arousal off.

In quick succession, he moved the zipper of his pants down, pulling his cock out. A shudder flashed all over your body when you noticed the precum smeared on his reddened cockhead, he was fully hard for you.

“You’re not winning this time,” he rasped, placing a hand on the small of your back before he began pushing his cock inside you.

Your jaw went slack, a raw moan spilling from deep within you as his cock stretched your walls open. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you mewled lewdly.

He sheathed himself inside you with a guttural moan, your walls throbbing around him as he pulled back slightly, and pushed in, thrusting shallowly inside you. “So fucking tight,” he sighed blissfully, closing his eyes.

“Jeonghan!” you urged lewdly, trying to get him to understand that you needed him to fuck you harder, faster.

“Shut up,” he snarled. “You don’t get to make demands,” he said, pleased that he was in control, making you utterly his.

You gasped, pushing yourself with your hands on the table to try and meet his hips with your own.

But Jeonghan stopped your plan at once, bringing his hand on your ass with a harsh spank. “Stop that,” he ordered. “Be a good slut for me and behave,” he said darkly.

“Please,” you sighed, pressing your forehead on the table. “Faster…”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he said, pushing his hips against slowly, his hips meeting your ass passionately as if he wanted to explore your walls with his cock inch by inch.

You imagined what the other guys in the hangar would think of this. Were they watching? Would they get turned on? You sneaked a look at the three figures standing by the entrance. They were pretending to be busy with something else, chatting with each other.

Jeonghan noticed where your gaze wandered to. A hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you in, so you were now standing up, back arched for his powerful thrusts. You whimpered at the change, feeling his cock hit a glorious spot inside you and kept ramming in on you.

“Jeonghan,” you choked out, barely even making out his name.

“Do you like that they’re watching you?” he asked, nudging the tip of his nose below your earlobe. “Eh? Do you like that they can hear how fucking wet your pussy is?”

You let out a shaky moan, grabbing his hand that was circling your neck, keeping you up as he delivered more powerful thrusts inside you. Feeling him raw, hard, and ramming fast inside you made you so horny you felt like crying. You wanted him so bad, and the mere thought that he had no intentions of stopping, or to come on your skin made you irrational, animalistic.

“Yeah,” you mewled, holding onto the table with your other hand.

The hard and fast manner in which he plowed on you was making your body bump into the table in front of you, making it squeak.

Seungcheol raised his gaze swiftly at you and quickly drew it elsewhere, the unwilled act of making eye contact with him drove you to moan louder, your pussy walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck, baby,” Jeonghan sighed blissfully in your ear. “Such a needy slut for me, so good.”

You nodded your head dumbly.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pushing his hips sloppily against your ass, the sound of his skin slapping against yours resounding across the place. “I’m gonna knock you up. Make you mine forever.”

“God, yes, yes, Jeonghan,” you gasped, arching your back more for his thrusts.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you… gonna be so round and pretty with our baby,” he said, his voice waning under so much pleasure and that mad frenzy he got into whenever he even thought about knocking you up.

“Please, please, please, ah—gah!” you moaned loudly, now drawing Mingyu’s gaze your way, then making him lower his face in utter shame.

“Keep watching them,” he ordered in your ear, thrusting hard and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he made you his forever… before he would spill his seed inside you. “I want them to see how good you are for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you said languidly, looking at the men pretending to pace from one side to another on their perimeter patrol. Wonwoo was the only one that had not looked your way, but you were completely sure that he was aware that you were being fucked by Jeonghan.

“Good girl,” he sighed, releasing his grip on your neck to slip it underneath your bralette to cup your tits with a raw moan. “That’s what you are, a good fucking girl for me.”

You grew more and more embarrassed, but you could not stop watching them, fishing for more reactions. None of them dared to look at you again, but from the looks they exchanged with each other, you could tell that your loud noises had rattled them.

“Jeonghan…” you called breathily.

“Sshhh,” he placed a sweet kiss under your earlobe, his hand slipping down to your tummy. “I’m gonna come, and you’re going to take it all. I’m gonna make you a mommy.”

“Please, I wanna come too,” you said, turning your head so you could see his face. “Please?”

Jeonghan showed you a light smirk, he looked tired and overwhelmed with pleasure. “That’s too bad, sweetheart. You’re not coming tonight.”

“Bu-but Jeonghan–,”

“Sssh,” he brought a hand to your cheek, giving you a chaste kiss, gasping softly before placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m coming—, god, baby, fuck. Fuuuck.”

“Hannie,” you uttered your last plea, but you knew it was too late.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…” he gasped, over and over, as he pressed his hand flatly on your tummy, pushing his hips languidly against your ass, spilling ropes of cum inside you.

You knew by the amount of sloppy thrusts he gave you that he came a lot inside you. You moaned at the thought of him coming inside you, painting your walls with his cum, repeating obsessively that you were his, no one else’s.

Jeonghan breathed raggedly on your shoulder, keeping his hand on your tummy for long enough until he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb. He slowly raised his head, placing a small kiss on your shoulder over your clothes, then on your bare neck, then on your cheek.

“My pretty girl, you drive me insane,” he rasped, sighing a giggle.

“I’m sorry,” you drawled lazily, turning again so you could see his beautiful eyes.

“No, you’re not,” he cooed at you, his smile growing wider. “I know you. I know you’re not sorry.”

You giggled with him, instantly being swarmed by a fluttering feeling deep within your gut.

Jeonghan stilled, his smile starting to disappear little by little. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes roamed all over your features. He pulled out of you then, his fingers swiftly placing your panties back in place to keep his cum from spilling out down your legs.

“I’ll take you home,” he decided coldly, tucking himself back into his pants at once.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you muttered, confused by his sudden change, by the dejectedness in which he had started to handle himself.

“No, no arguing with me on this one,” he said with a finality in his demeanor that made you know he was not going to take more of your retorts.

“Fine,” you huffed, fixing your clothes with a pout on your face.

“What?” he arched one eyebrow.

“You could’ve at least let me come.”

Jeonghan’s face broke into a smile, tipping his head back to laugh out loud. “You asked me to punish you,” he shrugged.

You climbed onto the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s big SUV with a sigh, fixing the folds of your pretty skirt.

“Hey,” Jeonghan held your door open with one hand, stopping you from closing it. “Baby, look at me,” he said.

Your tummy fluttered upon hearing the sweet tone he used with you. “Yes?”

Jeonghan leaned inside the car and over you, sneaking two fingers beneath your jaw. “You know I would never put you in harm’s way, right?” he asked, and you could see on his face how much that question had messed him up. He drew his eyebrows in, and you saw a glint in his eyes you had never seen on him.

“Yeah,” you said, lifting a hand to his cheek, feeling sick for making him think that he was the same as your fiancé. “I know, babe.”

Jeonghan pressed his forehead against yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his own. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. We are so close to ending all of this,” he muttered. “Then it’ll be just you and me…”

“I know. And I know this stresses you out. But please, try to be more considerate,” you replied with a small smile that he felt as he pressed his lips against yours.

He giggled softly. “Alright,” he conceded with a raspy voice, pressing more kisses on your lips. “I’ll be more considerate. Just because my favorite girl asks.”

“Ah, favorite girl?” you backed off a little to show him an impish smile. “Does that mean you have other girls?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was amused. “Yes. Many.”

“Mm, I’m falling behind. I should get other boys, then,” you giggled.

“Shut up,” he sighed, bringing you to his face to kiss you more. “So annoying.”

 You let out a louder cackle, making his eyes shine with that fascination he never failed to show whenever you laughed with him.

Jeonghan went still ever so softly in front of you. He was a man who was completely enamored with his job You knew that his yearning for crime was greater than anything else in his life.

But at that moment, you felt how deeply he felt about you. The way he looked at you, was unmistakable, Yoon Jeonghan was in love. But you also knew it would be hard for him to say it out loud. You were becoming his weakness, so you weren't surprised to see fear in his gaze as well.

That is why you could not bring yourself to say it either. Your love for him was so strong, so passionate that it scared you.

“Boss.”

Jeonghan stood up straight, turning his head over his shoulder to see Jeon Wonwoo approaching with a cautious step. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, motioning a hand before tucking it to his back. “But I think I found it. I found the warehouse.”

“Are you sure this time?”

Wonwoo nodded once. “Positive. I just got a confirmation from my guy, and it seems that there’s going to be a buyout in two hours.”

“Get the boys, tell them to get ready,” Jeonghan ordered without a second thought. “I’ll be back here in half an hour to cover the essentials.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo nodded once again, walking away promptly.

Jeonghan said nothing else to you, closing the passenger door to go around the car, slipping on the driver seat, and turning the engine on swiftly. “Let’s get you home.”

“What was that about?” you asked with genuine curiosity.

“Wonwoo has been looking for your sister. He thinks he just found her,” he said with an aloof manner as he focused on backing up the car to then put it on Drive, his hand resting on the stick for some seconds before switching to palm your thigh gently. “I’m going with them to stake it out later tonight.”

“Will you be safe?” you asked sweetly at him, grabbing his hand on your thigh, and lacing your fingers with his.

“Course I will,” he replied warmly.

When you got back to your apartment, you decided to clean up at once. One, you had to eliminate all traces that Jeonghan fucked you. So you trashed your ruined tights and your panties. And then you took a long shower, thinking of what Jeonghan told you before dropping you off.

You were towel drying your hair, dragging yourself on your slippers and a robe to the living room where you stopped short at the sight of your fiancé. “Oh, hi honey,” you blurted nervously. “How are you?” you asked with an overly sweet tone. But as he approached, you noticed that he was getting ready to head out again. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied distractedly, approaching you to place a swift kiss on your mouth, which you were too surprised to reciprocate. “I was heading out to check on some deliveries and then I wanted us to grab dinner. So, get changed. We’re heading out in five minutes.”

Some moments later, you sat on one side of the backseat of a car. Both you and Hyunjun kept silent as the chauffeur drove you to a large warehouse near the docks of the city. You looked at your fiancé curiously.

“Stay here,” he had instructed before exiting the car. And you were smart and did the right thing. For about five minutes.

The warehouse stored columns upon columns of cement bags piled on each other. They looked like small buildings as you carefully treaded your way in search of your fiancé. He already believed that you were a complete fool, so you could explore here and come up with some lame excuse if he found you. And at the same time, you would gather intel for Jeonghan. What kind of business would Hyunjun have here?  

It was an odd place, that was for sure. But you knew what kind of places gangs usually did their buyouts. This was not weird for you. So you let your intuition win and guide you, leading you down a hall full of doors. You opened them one by one, finding empty rooms. Until you opened one that did not.

Kiki was lying on a dirty old couch. She looked like she had moved in a long time. Her face was hidden beneath a cushion. You felt nauseous, heart racing in your chest as you rushed to the couch, dropping to your knees to try and turn her body over.

She was cold and frail. There was dirt collecting on her cheeks and you could see tears had dried on her skin. Her lips were chapped, and there was a bruise on one of her bony cheekbones.

“Kiki?” you whispered, using your trembling fingers to touch her, but you were so afraid to do so. “Kiki, it’s me. Wake up.”

You started crying, she was in such a frail state your mind started racing, fearing for the worst. But you had to calm yourself down, you had to act quickly for her. So you brought one finger under her nose, by her lips. And waited.

The hairs of your finger bristled when she let out the softest exhale. You checked your surroundings before deciding you would get her out of there, right there and then.

A chill ran down your spine when you tried cradling her weak body in your arms. Not because you could not do it, but because it came easily to you, being that she was so light.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you moved through the hall full of different doors, making your way out as quietly as possible, not drawing the attention of anyone, let alone your unassuming fiancé.

But that was until the first unmistakable sound of gunshots crossed the air. You stopped your escape cold, a wave of cold washing over you when you realized something. This was the warehouse Wonwoo had mentioned. Why were you here? Why had Hyunjun brought you here?

More gunshots were fired, a tumultuous happening in the distance. You took a few steps, glancing down the hallway. The warehouse esplanade was crammed with towers of cement-lined bags. The first column served as a good hiding place while you looked for a way out, so you decided to move quickly.

Carefully, you crouched to your knees, Kiki still unconscious in your arms. Panting, you took the chance to glance again, finding your fiancé’s man unconscious on the ground. It was as if there was no space in your brain to worry about anything else, all focus was on getting Kiki out of there.

But… where is Hyunjun? It was just a fleeting thought. Maybe you could drag Kiki to the nearest SUV. Maybe you would be lucky enough to find the keys stashed somewhere. Maybe you could wait until the gunfire stops.

“Sister?”

You dropped your knees on the ground for support, looking at your sister’s face. She opened her eyes weakly, your chest tightening when you saw how dead they were. Vacant, like a lifeless doll.

“Yes, Kiki. It’s me,” you cooed softly, ignoring the loud banging around you, the screaming.

“Is this real?”

Tears spilled from your eyes quickly, making you sniffle. “Yes. Yes, sweetie, this is real,” you replied sadly.

She gave you no reply, and you realized she was drifting away again. You needed to act now, you needed to find the nearest hospital. You needed to save her.

And in your hurry to get her to safety, you got more reckless.

Quickly, an idea formed in your head. You could get Kiki to one of the cars. You just needed a clear way out of the warehouse without being hit.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

There was a sinking feeling inside you as you lifted your head to look at Seungcheol. At seeing your startled reaction, he lifted his palms onto view.

“Easy,” he warned, approaching you carefully to not draw any attention. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah,” you panted, saying the next words in a quick slurry mess. “Hyunjun brought me here, I don’t know why. Told me to wait in the car. But I just got a hunch that she’d be here.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. But he crouched in front of you, a darkness in his gaze that had your gut twisting tighter. “Hyunjun is dead.”

There is nothing that could compare to the relief that washed over you when you heard those words. But you also felt a heavy guilt falling upon you. Seungcheol looked worried, not like a man who just won a war.

“That… that’s good, isn’t it?” you stuttered.

“Listen carefully,” he said, his shifty gaze not quite focusing on you. “I’m going to take your sister into one of the vans and then I’ll come back for you, you hear me?”

You frowned confusedly. “What’s happening, Seungcheol? Where is Jeonghan?”

“Hyunjun got betrayed by his men,” he said, and then you understood the burden of the situation. “He got betrayed by your dad’s men.”

“C-could my dad have done this?” you asked dumbly. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, we don’t know. He was dead before Jeonghan could even get to him,” he blurted uncontrollably, he was shaking. “Chances are that this is a sting op because half of the people out there are also cops.”

“What?” your chest tightened painfully. “Jeonghan is here?”

“There’s no time for that right now,” he said, grabbing your sister’s limp body from your grasp. “Stay hidden. I’ll come back for you.”

It had become hard to breathe. The feeling twisting your guts made you recoil back against the hard column behind you, trying to hug limbs to keep yourself out of sight.

The commotion kept on going, screams, grunts, gunshots. But you could not pay attention to that, you wanted to cover your ears, but at the same time, you needed to remain alert. You could tell that people were approaching your hiding place, and you made a motion to gather yourself to start running.

But the man came in front of your view before you could even stand up, pointing a gun at you, you made a move to crawl away, to move out of the way. He fired once, twice, the latter hitting you in the small of your back, the bullet penetrating you making your muscles contract and grow hot.

You felt confused the first second. You slumped down on the ground, then you tried to press a hand on your tummy. It was then that you felt the searing-hot pain.

Confused still, you lifted your gaze to see the man that just shot you. He was lying dead on the ground, a knife lodged in his bleeding neck.

You felt limp, your head lolling to one side before your body also dropped to the ground. A tall figure approached you fast, it was Seungcheol. He said he would come back to you.

“No, no, no, no,” he muttered, grabbing your body, and swiftly lifting you. “Stay with me, stay with me,” he said louder.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered drowsily, still feeling an echo of confusion invading your brain.

“He’s on his way back to the hangar. We’re going there,” he informed you promptly, knowing that the worry would kill you before the wide-open wound on your belly.  

“And Kiki?”

“She’s fine, we’re getting you both out of here,” Seungcheol said as he placed you in the back seat of the car, then barked some orders to someone nearby. “Get inside now.”

Kim Mingyu climbed on the back seat of the car, the deep frown on his face going lax once he took one look at you. “Fuck, she’s bleeding,” he said, looking at Seungcheol who was just closing the door to his side.

“Help her,” he ordered, driving away at full speed.

“What happened?” he asked with a worried tone, the man who was all muscle and cunning was breaking down in front of your eyes.

“She got shot,” Seungcheol gritted, sending a look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t let her pass out.”

“Let’s get you on your back,” Mingyu said, motioning over to his lap where you automatically let your head drop, lying across the back seat. “I’m going to do something you won’t like, okay?”

Mingyu waited for no confirmation from your part, and pressed one of his large hands on your belly, right where the wound was.

You cried out loudly. “Fuck! It hurts, it hurts,” you stammered, tears springing out of your eyes immediately, you tried to back away, to free yourself from Mingyu’s grasp. But you were becoming weak, and the pain numbed the rest of your senses quickly.

“Does Jeonghan know?” Mingyu asked with a heavy tone, you could not make out his face between the shadows of the car.

There was a long moment before Seungcheol replied, and it was only one word burdened with a severity that you feared. “Yes.”

Mingyu cursed under his breath. “Bullet got through, she’s bleeding out quickly,” Mingyu informed loudly, keeping steady despite Seungcheol’s fast driving. “Is the doctor on the way?”

“Wonwoo’s already told Joshua to get to the hangar as soon as possible.”

“I know it hurts, but try not to move,” Mingyu muttered at you when you tried to get his hand off your belly.

You were a mess, squirming, crying, growing drowsy, babbling out nonsense.

Sooner than you had expected, the car was pulling up to the hangar. Seungcheol jumped out to get your body from the passenger’s seat. “Get the sister inside,” he ordered Mingyu as he carried you inside hurriedly.

You were neatly placed on a cold surface, squinting your eyes at a pale white light. You were in a small room, you spotted Seungcheol’s face, he was smeared with blood all over, a worried look plastered on him.

“Where is she?” you heard Jeonghan’s voice before you could even register where you were. Jeonghan came into view, looking so pale you thought he was sick.

“I’m alright,” you sighed weakly, your belly had stopped hurting, it just pulsated in between intervals. You knew you were trying to ease his worry, though it was futile, it was worth the try. “I’m okay.”

Jeonghan did not reply, approaching you with two big steps and started looking at the damage. “Give me a cloth, something to press on the wound,” he ordered and some seconds later, someone handed him what looked like a flannel shirt and started pressing on your belly again, making a drawn-out cry come out of you. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to do this.”

You gritted your teeth, breathing rapidly. “Jeonghan,” you called.

“You’re going to be okay, baby,” he spoke softly, and although your lucidity had started to wane, you knew he was worried for you. His eyes were teary, his eyebrows withdrawn, and his hands were shaking, pressed to your belly.

Your vision became blurry and bright, forcing you to close your heavy eyelids and swallow hard.

Not yet, not yet, not yet. You knew you were dying now. “Jeonghan,” you whispered, your jaw trembling slightly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jeonghan replied, still keeping his tone sweet for you. But he was heaving, looking at you with so much worry that you nearly broke down into tears.

But you were growing weaker by the second, you could feel your blood pooling on the table you were lying.

Jeonghan’s breathing became ragged, you knew he had started to cry. What you saw in his teary eyes was pure, and utter fear. “Baby?” he breathed.

“I’m cold,” you muttered weakly.

“Hold on,” he whispered shakily, tears brimming in his eyes as he leaned over your body, pressing with more strength on your tummy. “You’re going to be fine, help is coming.”

“Jeonghan,” you asked softly, pain had eased a while ago, you could only feel the muscles of your face, the rest of your body starting to grow numb. You took his wrist, but the man pressed harder at your tummy.

“Yes?” he breathed.

You blinked dumbly when warm tears fell on your face. “Let’s run away,” you whispered weakly.

“Where?” he muttered, his voice breaking as he sniffled quietly.

You did not reply, it was becoming harder to form thoughts, your mouth was numb, and you were sure you were drifting away now. Far away, you wanted to tell him. But never found the energy to do so.

“Where, baby?” he insisted, tears rolling down his cheeks. You wanted to tell him to stop crying, you hated to see him cry. “Baby? Please, please, talk to me, sweetheart. Don’t close your eyes, keep looking at me.”

You said nothing, and although you heard every word he said, you were finding it difficult to understand him. All you could think of was that you regretted not telling him you loved him. And now you were leaving him, and he would never know.

A gentle exhale came out of your mouth, you blinked one last time. Jeonghan’s tear-stained face was the last thing you saw before everything faded to black. But you could still hear the door bursting open, a dry voice telling Jeonghan it was time to go.

“No,” he gritted. “I’m not leaving her.”

“It’s now or never!” Seungcheol barked. “Jeonghan, they’re coming.”

A new set of hands took over. “She’s going to be fine. Step away, please, so I can get to work,” the new voice said with a calm tone.

“If she dies–,”

“If she dies, and they find you here, it’s over for all of us. If she survives and you stay here, it’s over for all of us including her.”

His cold hands released their grip on your body with a reluctance that you could feel even with your eyes closed. A ghostly kiss was placed on your forehead, it was quick, but you could make out his final promise.

“Wait for me, baby. We’ll find each other again,” he whispered.

And then you drifted to sleep.

› epilogue

The streets of the town were deserted.

Jeonghan made his way down the steep sidewalk as the dawn crept on the pavement. The sky was clear, the air felt nice, cold against his skin. As he approached the end of the street, the lake came into his view, making him notice the humidity in the atmosphere.

He cast a look over his shoulder, even though the only thing he could hear around him was the sound of his footsteps, the certainty was what he needed. Every morning, he went out to do some checkups, just to appease the paranoia in his head.

His hands got clammy as he approached the door, turning the handle quietly as to not make any noise, and pushed inside, tucking one hand behind his back.

“There you are, I was beginning to wonder,” you chirped softly, arching one eyebrow. “What do you have in there?”

Jeonghan bit down his lower lip, trying to conceal his smile as he showed you a big bouquet of fresh flowers he had hidden behind his back.

Your face fell in shock, making the man burst out chuckling. “What’s this? You got me flowers?”

He paced inside the tiny home, handing you the flowers. “Just because,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm, you’re in a good mood this morning,” you grinned, closing your eyes due to the proximity of his face to your own.

But you accepted the bouquet, running the pads of your fingers on one of the soft white petals.

“I’m just really lucky,” he muttered, swiftly reading your face, smiling at you.

“Babe,” you tilted your head in utter adoration for him, you lifted a hand to cup his face. “We’ve been through this. We’re fine, were safe.” 

Jeonghan took the hand from his cheek, planting a soft kiss on your palm, shaking his head slightly. “Being on the run with me isn’t fine,” he muttered with a pained look on his face. “You deserve a better life.”

In fact, you were laying low in a quiet town in a different country. You have had to start over again multiple times since you ran off with him. Jeonghan was implicated in the events that went down that night and he had to run away, leaving you behind.

Jeonghan kept his promise. Your sister was safe, and you could start from zero now.

The journey to finding him was not easy. It took you months to get even a sign of life from his part, and you knew he only wanted to make sure you were safe before he tried to seek you out.

It was even harder to convince him to come to where he was. But you waited, knowing that it would take him some time and insisting to concede.

You lowered the bouquet on the table, now using your other hand to brush his short hair back. “Hannie, don’t say that,” you whispered. “All I want is to be with you. I’m happy, and I’m safe.”

But you knew he was heavily ridden with guilt, feeling that it was his fault that you got shot and injured. And now that you had to be on the run with him, he felt like you were not living a worthy life.

He pushed his eyebrows in question, pouting softly. “Happy?”

You giggled at his expression, looking so innocent and cute. “The happiest,” you muttered, wrapping his neck with your arms.

His gaze relaxed once he heard your laugh, lifting a hand to pinch your chin as the other squeezed your waist. “I’ll make you even happier.”

You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. “Thank you for the flowers. I love them,” you whispered. “I love you.”

“For my favorite girl,” he replied in kind. “I love you too, baby.”

› author's note: hi there beautiful readers! (●'◡'●) i want to start this note by saying that i struggle with writing about dark themes such as this one, (gangster-related things). so this served as an exercise/challenge? i hope you like it! anyways, toodles support me on ko-fi? © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A PILE: What do people feel when they look into your eyes?

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you go ahead and read both!

If you enjoyed this reading, get your own personalized paid reading here!😊🦋

For personalized 18+ readings, click here!

My Ko-fi link: here 🫶🏻

My Masterlist🫶🏻

── .✦ PILE I

cards pulled: The world reversed, 10 of wands, Ace of wands, 3 of pentacles, 2 of pentacles.

Hello pile 1! So starting off with your reading, your eyes hold weight. Like, people stare into them and feel this deep, almost overwhelming pull as if you know things. You know when someone makes eye contact and immediately looks away? That’s why. Your gaze makes people feel exposed. 

Maybe, Your eyes look different depending on the mood you’re in. It’s almost supernatural. When you’re deep in thought, they can look distant like you’re somewhere else entirely. But when you’re focused on someone? It’s game over for them. Your gaze locks them in place, and they suddenly forget how to breathe. Another hit I’m getting your eyes glow in certain lighting. Like, maybe in the golden hour sun, or under dim lighting, there’s this otherworldly sheen to them. People notice it and get caught in a daze. You could be walking past someone, and they’ll turn back just to check if they really saw what they think they saw. (Hint: They did, and now they can’t stop thinking about it.)

But here’s the thing your energy isn’t necessarily intimidating; it’s just unfiltered truth. People sense that you carry wisdom, resilience, and maybe even some silent battles that have shaped you. The World reversed tells me that people feel like you’ve seen life’s highs and lows, and it shows in the way your eyes hold untold stories. Some might feel comforted by that, but others? Oof they go into a full-on existential crisis when they meet your gaze. people look into your eyes and get this weird mix of heavy emotions and admiration. Like, they see a depth that reminds them of their own struggles, but at the same time, they see someone who is still standing, pushing forward, making things happen.  But (and this is interesting), people also feel a need to prove themselves to you. The Three of Pentacles tells me that when people lock eyes with you, there’s this unconscious pressure to be better, to work harder, to impress you. Your eyes challenge people, like, “Are you really putting in the effort? Are you really stepping up in your life?” And some people LOVE that they want to earn your respect. But for others? They shrink. They can’t handle being held to a silent standard.

Now, let’s talk about the fire in your gaze. Because it’s not all deep emotional weight and existential reckoning your eyes also ignite something in people. The Ace of Wands is passion, energy, inspiration your gaze has this spark that wakes people up. It’s like staring into pure potential people look at you and suddenly start daydreaming about big moves, wild possibilities, and even risky choices they never considered before. Also... I HAVE TO SAY IT some people get lowkey obsessed with you because your eyes make them feel ALIVE. Like, they weren’t even thinking about you that way, but now? They’re pacing their room at replaying that one glance you gave them. 😭. People can’t pin you down, and that drives them INSANE. Your gaze shifts between calm and intense, warm and unreadable, steady and playful people never know what’s coming next. And THAT? That’s dangerous. They start overanalyzing, wondering, “What did that look mean? Did they just read my mind? Do they hate me? Do they secretly love me??” And now they’re in a full-blown mental crisis because of you.

Your eyes have this almost ethereal, timeless quality like they’ve seen things beyond this lifetime. The Soft yet piercing contrast is WILD. Your eyes can look gentle one second, then suddenly hold a gaze so powerful it makes people nervous. They flicker between warmth and unreadability, and that unpredictability makes people obsessed.  I hope this reading resonated with you, Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! Sending you all the love and good vibes!

Liked the reading? get your own personalized super in-depth paid reading here!

── .✦ PILE II

Cards pulled: 9 of pentacles, Queen of swords, 9 of wands, Page of swords, Wheel of fortune.

HELLO pile 2! Okay, listen. Your eyes? They do NOT play around. Your eyes carry this deadly mix of wisdom, confidence, and just a little bit of "don't mess with me" energy. There’s an air of control like you’re the one observing, assessing, deciding whether someone is worth your time. And BABY, people feel that. They know they have to come correct with you, or not come at all. Your eyes are DANGEROUSLY ATTRACTIVE.

Your eyes have that “I see through you” energy.  I am seeing so many words to describe you eyes, like Passionate, rebellious, playful but intense. These eyes command attention. They’re the type that makes people flustered or lose their train of thought mid-sentence. There’s also something undeniably seductive about them not just in a romantic way, but in a “I can’t stop looking at you” way. Your gaze slices through the BS like a sword. People who are fake, insecure, or hiding something? They literally can’t hold eye contact with you for too long because they feel exposed (and maybe even a little judged). They are also Elegant but lethal. Your eyes have that old-money, untouchable confidence. You don’t even need to say "I told you so" your eyes already did. I feel like, yall know HOW to use your eyes in your favour, and if not, i beg you besties to learn that😭you would literally unlock another whole level of magic.

I also see that your eyes scream self-sufficiency, like you know exactly who you are and what you bring to the table. People get the sense that you’re impossible to own they either meet your standards or they’re dismissed. your eyes are so freaking sharp and observant, it’s almost unnerving. People feel like you pick up on everything tiny changes in their tone, subtle body language shifts, the way their hands fidget when they lie. The wheel of fortune signifies the unpredictability of your energy. Your eyes don’t just see people they make them feel like anything could happen. This tells me the mystery your eyes hold is a huge part of your personality. There’s a karmic pull people don’t just glance at you and move on. Your gaze leaves an impact that lingers long after they look away.

Your eyes could Mysterious most of the times, even if you don’t try. Some people have deep, soulful eyes that pull you in and whisper secrets. YOURS is the king That tell people, “Try and figure me out. Good luck, though.” There’s a challenge in your gaze, and it drives people CRAZY.

Just like pile 1, your eyes could also look different depending on your mood. When you’re calm, they’re collected, regal, and unreadable. But when you’re passionate about something? They light up like fire, and suddenly, everyone is hyper-focused on you. But they ALWAYS hold that sense of mystery to them.  I’m getting cat energy sleek, unpredictable, untouchable. If you stare too long, it feels like you’re reading minds.

People feel drawn to you, not just for your looks but for the energy you carry, one that’s both mysterious and captivating. There’s a quiet confidence in your gaze that makes people want to know more, yet they also recognize that you don’t let just anyone in. Whether it’s admiration, curiosity, or a little bit of intimidation, one thing’s for sure, people don’t forget the way you look at them.That was intense, but I LOVED every second of it. 😭 Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! 

Liked the reading? get your own personalized super in-depth paid reading here!

── .✦ PILE III

Cards Pulled: 2 of swords, the moon, 8 of pentacles, page of cups, 9 of swords.

Omg. Okay. When people look into your eyes, it’s like they’ve suddenly stepped into a thriller movie. No, seriously. There’s a hypnotic depth here, which is too obvious. Pile 3, your eyes hold a mystery that people can’t quite put their finger on. There’s something dreamy, distant, and almost otherworldly about them

Let’s start with the obvious: People feel confused, intrigued, and just a little bit haunted when they look at you. Babe, you radiate the type of energy that makes people second-guess what they are doing. Like, they’re staring at you, trying to figure out what’s going on behind those eyes, and suddenly, they’re re-evaluating their whole existence. 💀 Your eyes hold secrets. Unspoken words. Feelings that can’t be named. They might see flickers of sadness, nostalgia, or even a past life connection that lowkey freaks them out (in a good way). But let’s be real, you don’t let people in easily. That 9 of Swords here tells me you’ve seen things. You’ve felt things. Your eyes carry the weight of emotions you don’t always verbalize, and people feel that heaviness, even if they can’t explain it.

But here’s the thing, they’re not just drawn to your depth; they’re drawn to your creativity, your softness, your quiet hope. The Page of Cups is giving, “There’s a dreamer behind these walls.” And omg, people can SENSE that. Your eyes have this soft, artistic melancholy, like someone who writes poetry or listens to sad indie songs while staring at the stars.  There’s something about your gaze that commands respect. People see work ethic. Strength. Determination. Your eyes say, “I’ve worked for everything I have,” and people feel that energy before you even open your mouth. It’s giving silent resilience. Like, someone could stare into your eyes and KNOW you’ve had moments where you were tired, drained, on the edge of breaking down, but you never did. And That’s powerful.

Some people, They straight-up don’t know what to do with your energy. They look into your eyes, and suddenly, they’re questioning if they should run towards you or run away. (The Moon + 2 of Swords energy is no joke.) There’s this magnetism, but also uncertainty. You give off that, “Come closer, but only if you’re ready to see the real me” vibe. And bestie, not everyone is ready for that level of depth. Now, I HAVE to say this: If you’ve ever been told, “You’re hard to read” or “I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” just know that it’s so real. People might assume you’re guarded, mysterious, or distant, but that’s just because they don’t realize how much is happening beneath the surface. And the funniest part? Even when you do show emotion, people still question if they’re seeing the full picture. 

People don’t just look into your eyes, they get lost in them. this pile is literally the most poetic and softest of the all the three. Some people see sadness, some see secrets, some see silent strength. But everyone? They see something. I hope this reading resonated with you, Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! Sending you all the love and good vibes!

Liked the reading? get your own personalized super in-depth paid reading here!

Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!