#Yandere san

[arilevenatz]

Ruthless Desire | C.S

Pairing: King!San x princess!Reader

Genre: Forced marriage

Word count: 19.2k

Warnings: dark stuff, captivity, stockholm syndrome vibes, injury by glass shards, manipulation, san is kinda scary, and hot, the reader is a dancer, yeah I still dk how to do this

AN: If you are sensitive to things like this please don't read it. This has some dark stuff. @kymimi I kinda slipped and wrote san instead of the member we discussed BUT dw I'll write him another one :)

Masterlist

The kingdom of Eldoria was like a painting come to life. Pastel-colored houses lined the streets, their rooftops reflecting the golden hues of the sun. Flowers of every shade bloomed along the cobbled paths, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. Towering trees provided shade to the people who gathered in the plazas, laughing and conversing freely. The kingdom was peaceful, its people content, and at the heart of it all was their beloved princess—YN.

YN was the embodiment of grace and perfection. Her long, flowing hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her warm smile was enough to bring comfort to anyone who crossed her path. She was not only admired for her beauty but also for her sharp mind and kind heart. Unlike the sheltered royals of other lands, YN roamed freely among her people, visiting markets, studying at the grand library, and even lending a hand at the flower fields when she wished to.

Her days were spent in harmony with the kingdom, and her nights were filled with dreams of the future. But even in a perfect kingdom, change was inevitable.

But that was not it. You see, Princess YN had a great talent—one that set her apart even more. She was a dancer.

From the moment she took her first steps as a child, it was clear that movement came naturally to her. As she grew, so did her love for dance. She dedicated a good portion of her day to perfecting her skills, attending classes with the finest instructors in the kingdom. But it wasn’t just about learning techniques or rehearsing steps—dancing was her freedom, her escape, her way of expressing emotions words could not.

In the grand ballroom of the palace, with its gleaming marble floors and towering windows, she would practice tirelessly. The music would swell, and she would lose herself in it, her body moving with effortless grace. The palace staff often paused to watch in quiet admiration, for when their princess danced, it was as if the entire world held its breath.

But YN never danced for attention or praise. She danced because it made her feel alive. And if she had it her way, she would dance forever.

But beyond the peaceful lands of Eldoria, past the rolling green hills and glistening rivers, lay another kingdom—one far greater in size, power, and influence.

The Kingdom of Celestara.

Unlike Eldoria, which flourished with soft colors and open gardens, Celestara stood as a testament to strength. Its towering castles were made of dark stone, its capital bustling with soldiers and scholars alike. The people of Celestara were strong and disciplined, raised with a deep sense of duty to their homeland. Their kingdom thrived under an unshakable rule, one that had made Celestara the most feared and respected land across the continent.

And at the heart of it all sat King Choi San.

San was no ordinary ruler. He was a king who valued power above all else—not just for himself, but for his kingdom. He had inherited a land that had been built on blood and steel, and he ruled it with an iron will. His people loved him, for under his reign, Celestara never knew famine, never fell to invaders, and never saw weakness. But to outsiders, he was a name that sent shivers down their spines.

Because King San did not tolerate defiance.

It was not cruelty for the sake of cruelty. No, San saw his punishments as necessary—tools to maintain order. A merchant caught cheating his people was stripped of his wealth and cast into the dungeons. A noble who conspired against him found their house burned to the ground, their name erased from history. And if a kingdom dared to challenge Celestara, they were met with fire and steel. His warriors, trained from childhood, were unmatched, and his war strategies were so ruthless that no one dared to question his rule.

No one opposed King Choi San and lived to tell the tale.

He was ruthless, reckless even. A man who did not just command power—he relished in it. King Choi San was not content with ruling Celestara alone. No, he wanted more. He wanted everything.

War was not just a necessity to him; it was a thrill. The sight of his enemies kneeling before him, their once-proud banners torn and trampled beneath his boots, brought him a satisfaction that nothing else could. He did not believe in mercy. He did not believe in compromise. He believed in dominance, in bending the world to his will.

His father, the former king, had shared that same hunger. Before his death, he had left behind a list—a detailed record of the lands he had set his sights on, the territories he had dreamed of conquering but never had the chance to. It was a king’s unfinished legacy, a vision left incomplete.

San did not just inherit his father’s kingdom. He inherited his ambitions.

And he would see them through.

The list had dozens of names written in careful ink, each representing a kingdom, a nation, a people who had yet to bow to Celestara’s might. Some had already fallen, their lands absorbed into San’s ever-growing empire. But there were still many left to claim.

One of them was Eldoria.

A peaceful kingdom, untouched by war, ruled by a gentle king and adored by its people. A land that had never known the weight of a conqueror’s hand.

San had heard of Eldoria before. A place where flowers bloomed endlessly, where the streets were painted in soft pastels. It was the complete opposite of Celestara. A kingdom so delicate, so naïve, that it almost amused him.

Almost.

Because at the end of the day, Eldoria was just another name on his father’s list. Another land that would soon belong to him.

And King Choi San never left things unfinished.

So that was what happened to Eldoria.

One fateful evening, King Choi San arrived at the gates of the peaceful kingdom, not as a guest, but as a conqueror in waiting. He did not come alone—his army, clad in dark armor, stood behind him like an unshakable force, their banners casting long shadows over Eldoria’s pastel streets. The moment his presence was announced in the royal palace, a chill ran through the halls.

King Eldrin, YN’s father, knew why San had come. He had heard the stories, knew the fate of the kingdoms that had stood in Celestara’s path. But still, he held onto hope.

Inside the grand throne room, the two kings faced each other.

“I will give you one chance,” San said, his voice calm yet laced with authority. “Surrender Eldoria to Celestara. Swear your allegiance, and I will allow your people to live under my rule without bloodshed.”

King Eldrin did not hesitate. “I will not surrender my land,” he said firmly, but his voice held no arrogance—only reason. “However, I propose an alliance. We do not have to be enemies. Our kingdoms can stand together, share trade, strengthen each other.”

San chuckled, a slow, amused sound. “An alliance?” He leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting. “Tell me, King Eldrin, what does your peaceful kingdom have to offer me that I do not already have?”

“We have wisdom, knowledge, and beauty. We have—”

“I do not need beauty,” San interrupted, his amusement vanishing. “I need power. Strength. Land.” His fingers tapped against the hilt of his sword. “And I will not ask twice.”

Eldrin’s jaw tightened. “Then you have my answer.”

San exhaled, a mockery of disappointment. “A shame,” he murmured. Then, with a glance at his general, he spoke the words that sealed Eldoria’s fate.

“We march at dawn.”

The war did not last long.

Eldoria, despite its beauty, was not built for battle. Its people were artists, scholars, farmers—not warriors. They fought bravely, but Celestara’s army was relentless. Swords clashed, fires burned, and the soft-colored streets of Eldoria were soon painted in shades of ash and crimson.

Within days, the palace fell.

King Choi San did what he always did—he erased the royal family.

The moment the palace fell, there was no room for mercy. The king was the first to go, struck down in his own throne room, his crown rolling across the marble floor. The queen followed soon after, her desperate pleas for peace silenced forever. The crown prince, the last hope for Eldoria’s future, fought bravely, but bravery alone could not save him from Celestara’s steel.

San watched it all with a cold, unwavering gaze. Another kingdom conquered. Another royal bloodline wiped from existence. Just as it should be.

With the palace now under Celestara’s control, he prepared to leave. There was no need for him to stay any longer. His men would handle the rest—securing the city, ensuring the people understood that they now belonged to him. He had no interest in Eldoria’s ruins; his work here was done.

Or so he thought.

A soldier rushed into the war room, his armor still stained with battle. He bowed quickly, his breath uneven.

“My king,” he said. “There is word of another.”

San barely spared him a glance. “Another what?”

“A survivor. A princess.”

The words made him pause.

A princess?

San had not known Eldoria had a princess. He frowned, turning fully to the soldier. “And where is she?”

“We do not know.”

San’s expression darkened. “Explain.”

“She was not in the palace when we arrived,” the soldier admitted. “We searched every room, every hall. But she was nowhere to be found.”

The air in the room grew heavy. San’s grip on his sword tightened. He had never left a royal family unfinished. No loose ends. No survivors. And yet, here was a piece of Eldoria’s bloodline still unaccounted for.

His jaw clenched. “Find her.”

Thus began the search.

San’s men scoured every corner of the palace, tearing through lavish chambers, hidden passages, and forgotten halls. San was not a man who accepted failure. He ordered a deeper search—every stone overturned, every locked door broken open.

And finally, they found it.

A hidden room, tucked away behind the grand library. The entrance had been expertly concealed, nearly impossible to notice unless one was searching for it. But now, the secret was uncovered.

San arrived immediately.

The heavy bookcase that had once hidden the doorway was now pushed aside, revealing a narrow passage leading into a small chamber. It was nothing like the lavish royal rooms he had seen before. This space was simple—bare walls, a single candle flickering in the dim light, and a modest wooden desk placed in the center.

And sitting at that desk was a girl.

She had not heard them enter at first, her focus entirely on the parchment before her. Her delicate hand moved swiftly, ink staining her fingertips as she wrote something with quiet urgency. It was only when she sensed the shift in the air—when the heavy presence of someone else filled the room—that she finally looked up.

Her eyes widened.

San met her gaze, and in that instant, he knew.

This was her.

The missing princess. The last surviving member of Eldoria’s royal family.

She had been here all along, hidden away while her kingdom burned. Sheltered while her family perished.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The candlelight cast shadows across her face, highlighting the quiet shock in her expression. San took a step forward, his boots echoing in the small space. The girl did not move, her fingers still curled around the quill, as if caught between fight and flight.

He exhaled slowly.

“Found you.”

San was a terrifying man. His presence alone filled the small room with an unshakable weight, his dark eyes locked onto YN with an intensity that made her stomach twist. She had heard of him before—King Choi San, the ruthless conqueror. The man who had taken her home, erased her family, and claimed Eldoria as his own.

Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to move. Slowly, she stood from her chair, her gaze dropping to the ground as if in surrender.

But she was not surrendering.

Her fingers tightened around the ink glass on the desk. And before she could think twice, she threw it.

The small bottle spun through the air, aimed directly at his knees.

San’s reflexes were fast—too fast. He shifted at the last second, the ink missing its target. Instead, it crashed against the floor, shattering into tiny pieces. Black ink spilled in a messy puddle between them, staining the stone beneath their feet.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then San exhaled, his lips curling into something unreadable. Not quite amusement, not quite anger.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his boots avoiding the ink, his piercing gaze never leaving her face.

“Cute,” he murmured, voice low. “You thought that would stop me?”

YN looked up just as San took another step closer, his presence suffocating in the small room. Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she didn’t let her fear show. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his gaze.

“No,” she said, voice steady. “But this will.”

Before he could react, she pulled a small knife from the folds of her dress and lunged forward.

She moved fast, aiming for his chest, but he was faster.

San’s hand shot out, catching her wrist mid-strike. With effortless strength, he twisted it, forcing her to drop the knife. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain shot through her arm, but she refused to cry out. The blade clattered against the floor, useless now.

San’s grip remained firm as he pushed her down, forcing her onto her knees before him. YN struggled, but it was no use. He was stronger, unmovable.

Then, to her shock, he reached out and brushed the strands of hair from her face. It was a gentle touch, almost delicate. If it were anyone else, it might have seemed comforting. But this was King Choi San.

And from him, it was terrifying.

His fingers trailed along her cheek before tucking her hair behind her ear. His dark eyes studied her, unreadable, as if he were trying to understand something.

“You’ve got fight in you,” he murmured, his voice quiet, almost amused. “I like that.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine. This man had slaughtered her family, burned her kingdom to the ground, and now, here he was, treating her as if she were something… interesting.

Her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to scream, to fight, to run. But she was trapped.

San tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction. Then, he leaned down, just enough to whisper,

“But fighting me is useless.”

San looked down at her, his expression unreadable. His grip on her wrist loosened just slightly, but the weight of his presence remained suffocating.

“You know,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather, “I came here to kill you.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat.

Of course, he did. That was what he always did. He had erased her family, wiped out her kingdom, and now, it was her turn.

She lowered her gaze, staring at the ink-stained floor. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, but she did not beg. She would not give him that satisfaction. There was nothing left for her anymore. No family. No home. No future.

So she closed her eyes and accepted her fate.

But then—

“But,” San mused, tilting his head, “you’re too pretty to kill.”

Her eyes snapped open, looking up at him in shock.

He smirked, his fingers once again brushing her cheek, this time lingering just a bit longer. “It would be a shame to waste something so… delicate.”

She stiffened, her stomach twisting with disgust. Was he toying with her? Mocking her? What was worse—death, or whatever fate he had in mind?

“No,” she whispered, barely realizing she had spoken. Then, louder, her voice rising in panic, “No—just kill me.”

San chuckled. Low, dark, entertained.

“Oh?” He crouched in front of her, their faces now painfully close. “Is that what you want?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

San’s smirk widened. He was enjoying this—her fear, her resistance, her despair.

“Too bad,” he murmured, gripping her chin lightly and forcing her to hold his gaze. “I think I’ll take you instead.”

YN stood up slowly, her legs shaking beneath her, but her gaze remained locked onto his. She expected him to rise as well, to tower over her like the conqueror he was, but he didn’t.

San remained crouched, looking up at her from his lower position, his dark eyes steady and sharp. It was unsettling—how comfortable he was, how unbothered by her defiance. His face was close—too close. Close enough that if she moved even slightly, he would be able to feel the fabric of her dress brush against him.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

And then, she moved.

She dashed to the side, making a sharp turn around him. Her feet barely touched the ground as she made her escape, her breath caught in her throat. For a split second, she thought she had done it. She had gone around him. She had gotten past him.

But she had forgotten.

The shattered glass. The ink. The mess on the floor from when she had thrown the ink bottle at him earlier.

The moment her bare foot touched the shards, a sharp, searing pain shot up her leg.

She sucked in a breath, but she didn’t stop. She forced herself forward, reaching the doorway that led out of the hidden chamber. She had made it—just barely.

But then, her body betrayed her.

The pain was too much. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed just outside the room, her breath coming in short gasps. Her feet throbbed violently, fresh blood pooling beneath her.

The pain in her feet was unbearable. Tiny shards of glass had pierced into her skin, some embedding deep into the soles of her feet, while others cut shallow but still bled. Ink mixed with her blood, creating a dark, messy trail behind her.

She couldn’t run anymore.

Her feet throbbed, her breaths were uneven, and she could already feel the warm trickle of blood running down her heels. Every movement sent fresh pain through her body.

Behind her, the room remained silent.

She could feel him still there. Watching. Waiting.

And then—

A slow, deliberate sound.

The sound of boots shifting against the stone floor.

San was standing up.

He stood up, the slow, deliberate movement filling the space with an unspoken finality. His boots pressed against the shattered glass on the floor, the sharp shards crunching beneath the heavy soles. The sound echoed in the small chamber, a cruel reminder of the difference between them—her bare, bloodied feet and his untouched, armored ones.

He took a step forward.

Then another.

Slow. Steady. As if he had all the time in the world.

YN could feel the weight of his gaze on her, sharp and unyielding, like a predator toying with its prey. She knew—he knew—that she wouldn’t make it far. Even if she ran, even if she forced herself to her feet and pushed through the pain, it wouldn’t matter. He would catch her. He would always catch her.

But she wasn’t going to just sit there.

The moment his shadow loomed over her, she pushed herself back. Her hands scraped against the cold stone floor as she tried to crawl away, her injured feet dragging behind her, leaving smudges of inky blood in her wake. It hurt—oh, it hurt—but she didn’t care. She would rather die trying than just sit there and accept whatever fate he had planned for her.

Outside the room, the few guards stationed there shifted uncertainly. One of them stepped forward as if to intervene, as if to do something.

San didn’t even look at them. He simply flicked his fingers, a lazy motion, and they immediately hesitated. Then, without a word, they stepped back, leaving him to handle this alone.

YN’s breath was ragged as she dragged herself further, her palms burning against the rough stone. She felt helpless, weak, but she refused to stop. Even if it was useless, even if he reached her within seconds, she would not just sit there like a caged animal.

Her fingers curled against the cold floor as she lifted her head, looking up at him.

And there he was.

Towering over her now, his expression unreadable, his lips slightly curled as if in amusement.

San exhaled, tilting his head.

"Still fighting?" he mused, his voice low, smooth—dangerous.

His slow steps finally came to a stop.

She had barely gotten anywhere.

And now, he was standing right in front of her.

San sighed, his patience thinning. He crouched slightly, looking down at her with that same amused expression, but now there was something else in his gaze—impatience.

“Let’s not fight,” he murmured, his voice deceptively soft. “Come now. Let’s go home.”

Home.

The word sent a shiver down YN’s spine. Home didn’t exist anymore. Her home had been burned, her family slaughtered, her people forced under his rule. Wherever he wanted to take her, it wasn’t home.

Still lying on the cold stone floor, she shook her head weakly. “No.”

San’s jaw tightened. The amusement in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced with something colder. He exhaled sharply through his nose, as if he were growing tired of this game.

"Fine," he muttered.

Before she could react, she saw a flash of silver—something in his hand.

Her body tensed. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew better than to wait and find out. Instinctively, she raised her arms to shield her face, bracing for impact.

Wrong move.

A sharp prick shot through the side of her neck.

Her eyes widened in shock as she felt something thin and metallic buried into her skin. It wasn’t a knife—it didn’t slice or tear. It just pricked, leaving a dull, numbing sensation in its wake.

A syringe.

San had stabbed a syringe into her neck.

Her breath hitched as a strange dizziness washed over her. The world around her blurred, her limbs suddenly feeling heavy, too heavy to move. She tried to lift her hand, tried to reach for the object lodged in her skin, but her fingers barely twitched before her body gave out.

Her head fell against the cold floor, her vision swimming.

Above her, the last thing she saw was San’s face, watching her with a knowing smirk as the darkness swallowed her whole.

San looked down at her unconscious form, his smirk lingering as he admired his work. She had fought, resisted until the very last second, but in the end, it hadn’t mattered. He was always going to win.

He exhaled, standing to his full height as he observed her limp body sprawled across the cold floor. The ink and blood smeared across the ground were the only remnants of her struggle.

Satisfied, he crouched down and slipped an arm beneath her, effortlessly lifting her into his arms. She was light—far too light for someone with so much fight in her. Her head lolled slightly against his shoulder, her breath slow and steady as the sedative coursed through her veins.

Holding her securely, San turned and walked towards the door.

The guards outside immediately straightened at the sight of their king emerging from the hidden room with the unconscious princess in his arms. They glanced at each other, uncertainty flickering in their eyes, but none dared to question him.

San stepped past them, his grip on YN firm but casual, as if carrying her was no different from carrying a mere possession.

Because that’s exactly what she was now.

San stepped out into the open, the cool night air washing over him as he carried YN in his arms. The moment his men saw him, they stiffened, their expressions betraying their shock.

They had all expected him to emerge alone, having finished the job like he always did. Instead, here he was—carrying the princess, unconscious but very much alive.

One of the lead guards, a seasoned warrior with a deep scar across his cheek, stepped forward hesitantly. His gaze flickered between San and the girl in his arms before he spoke.

"Your Majesty," he began carefully, "should we finish her?"

The other guards waited in tense silence, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. It was a reasonable assumption—San had slaughtered the rest of the royal family without hesitation. Why would the princess be any different?

But San had already made his decision.

Without looking at the guard, he spoke, his voice calm yet unwavering.

"No."

The single word sent a ripple of confusion through the men.

San shifted YN slightly in his arms, glancing down at her unconscious face before turning his sharp gaze back to the guard.

"I'm taking her back to Celestara," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The guards exchanged uncertain glances, but no one dared to question him further.

San smirked, satisfied by their obedience. Then, without another word, he began walking towards his waiting carriage.

This war was over. The kingdom was his. And now, so was she.

With the princess in his grasp, he set off on the journey back to Celestara—his kingdom, his home.

And soon enough, hers as well.

YN blinked slowly, her mind hazy as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Her body felt heavy, her limbs sluggish, as if she had been asleep for far too long.

Where was she?

She forced herself to sit up, her fingers gripping the soft yet unfamiliar sheets beneath her. The bed was large—far larger than the one she had in Eldoria. And the room…

Her heart sank.

This wasn’t Eldoria.

Eldoria was warm and bright, filled with pastel colors, soft fabrics, and the gentle scent of flowers in the air. But this place—this place felt suffocating. The walls were dark, nearly black, with gold accents that gleamed under the dim lighting. Heavy drapes covered the windows, letting in only slivers of light. The furniture was grand, elegant, yet cold, as if meant to intimidate rather than comfort.

She hated it.

Perhaps it was because she had spent her entire life surrounded by brightness, but the darkness of this place made her uneasy. It felt foreign, unfamiliar—wrong.

Her breath quickened as she swung her legs over the bed, only to wince as a sharp pain shot through her feet.

The glass.

She had run through shattered glass.

Carefully, she lifted her feet and saw the bandages wrapped around them, fresh and neatly done. Someone had treated her injuries.

Someone had—

Her stomach twisted.

San.

Memories of what had happened before she blacked out came rushing back. The invasion. The loss. His voice, smooth and taunting. The sharp prick of the syringe in her neck.

Panic clawed at her chest as she looked around frantically, searching for a way out.

But the door was closed.

And she had no doubt—it was locked.

YN sat at the edge of the massive bed, her fingers digging into the sheets as she tried to steady herself. The weight of everything crashed down on her all at once.

Her family was gone.

Her home was gone.

And now, she was here—trapped in a place that wasn’t hers, surrounded by walls that felt like they were closing in on her.

Her vision blurred as her throat tightened. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But what good would that do?

She lowered her gaze to her bandaged feet. She couldn’t even walk. She had been so desperate to escape, but in the end, she had only hurt herself. And now, she was left completely vulnerable, at the mercy of the very man who had taken everything from her.

San.

The thought of his name sent a shiver down her spine.

The ruthless king of Celestara. The man who had murdered her family without hesitation. The man who had stolen her home and claimed it as his own.

And now, she was his captive.

A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips, but it got caught in her throat. There was nothing amusing about this. There was no way out.

She was truly, utterly defeated.

YN sat there for what felt like hours, unmoving, lost in the crushing weight of her thoughts. The silence of the room only made it worse, suffocating her, making her feel even more trapped.

Then—

Click.

The door creaked open.

Her entire body tensed.

Her fingers curled into the sheets, her heart pounding as she stared at the entrance, dreading what—or who—might step inside.

And then she saw him.

San.

He walked in like he owned the place. Which, of course, he did.

But that didn’t make it any less infuriating.

His presence filled the room instantly, his posture relaxed, confident—completely at ease, as if nothing was out of place. As if he hadn’t just destroyed her entire life.

YN swallowed hard, her throat dry.

She hated him.

She hated the way he moved so carelessly, as if everything was just a game to him. She hated the way he looked at her, like he knew she was powerless against him. She hated that even though she wanted to scream, to throw something, to fight—she couldn’t.

Not like this.

Not when she could barely even stand.

Fear crept up her spine, mixing with the anger burning in her chest. She hated him. She feared him. But most of all—she resented the fact that he had complete control over her now.

San stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on her. A smirk tugged at his lips, slow and deliberate, as if he was enjoying the sight of her—small, wounded, and utterly trapped.

He took a step inside, and even though his movements were unhurried, they carried an undeniable authority. Every step he took echoed in the large, darkened room, the soft click of his boots against the floor sending a shiver down YN’s spine.

She gripped the sheets tighter.

He was terrifying.

And that was exactly what made him so dangerous.

He wasn’t just some brute who barked orders and swung his sword mindlessly. No, San was something much worse. He was calculated. He was smart. And worst of all, he enjoyed having control over people.

“You’re awake,” he mused, his voice smooth yet dripping with something sinister.

YN didn’t respond.

He didn’t need her to. He was already closing the distance between them, his movements slow, predatory, as if he wanted her to feel the power he held over her.

Her breath hitched as he stopped right in front of her.

She refused to look up at him. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

But San wasn’t the type to be ignored.

With an amused chuckle, he crouched down so that he was eye-level with her.

“Not going to greet your king?” he murmured, tilting his head. His voice was deep, teasing, but there was an undeniable edge to it. A warning.

YN finally forced herself to meet his gaze—and immediately regretted it.

He was too close.

Far too close.

His dark eyes gleamed under the dim lighting, filled with something unreadable. His sharp jawline, the way his lips curled ever so slightly—it was unfair how someone so cruel could look so good.

She hated it.

She hated that her heart pounded for reasons beyond just fear.

When she still didn’t speak, San exhaled sharply and reached out.

She flinched as his fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her face up. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but that only made it worse.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his voice quiet, almost mocking. “Scared of me, little princess?”

YN clenched her jaw, trying to will away the fear in her expression.

San chuckled. “Good. You should be.”

His grip tightened, just enough for her to feel it, just enough to remind her that she was at his mercy.

And yet—

The way he looked at her, the slow drag of his eyes down her face, the way his lips parted slightly as if he was enjoying every second of this—

He was terrifying.

And that made him even more dangerous.

San watched her, his lips quirking up in amusement at her stubbornness. She was scared, angry, and exhausted, yet still refused to take anything from him. It was almost admirable. Almost.

With a sigh, he reached for the glass of water sitting on the bedside desk. His fingers wrapped around the crystal, and he swirled the liquid inside lazily before turning back to her.

“Why don’t you drink some?” His voice was smooth, deep, like velvet laced with something dangerous.

“I don’t want water,” YN muttered, looking away.

San chuckled, low and rich. “Come on, princess. I didn’t poison it.”

He lifted the glass to his own lips, tilting it back ever so slightly.

YN couldn’t look away.

The way he drank—slow, deliberate—was unfair. A bit of water slipped past the corner of his lips, trailing down his jaw. He swiped his thumb across his mouth, wiping away the stray droplet before licking it off his thumb without a second thought.

Her stomach twisted, and heat crept up her neck.

San caught the way her eyes flickered to his lips, and his smirk deepened.

“See?” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned in, holding the glass out to her, his fingers brushing against hers. “It’s not poisoned.”

She hesitated.

San sighed dramatically. “Drink up, princess. I don’t want you to die.”

His words should have been comforting, but the way he said them—slow, teasing, like he enjoyed her discomfort—only made her more unsettled.

Still, she knew she had no choice.

With shaky fingers, she took the glass from him.

San didn’t move back.

He stayed close, watching her with dark, expectant eyes, waiting to see if she would obey.

And that was the worst part.

Because as much as she hated him, as much as she wanted to fight—he always got what he wanted.

San had no shame. Not even a shred of it.

As YN lifted the glass to her lips, tilting her head back slightly to drink, his eyes shamelessly trailed down to her neck.

He watched the way her throat moved with each swallow, the soft curve of her collarbone barely peeking from the loose neckline of her dress. His gaze lingered, unbothered, unapologetic.

San was no saint.

He never pretended to be one.

And right now, he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was enjoying the sight in front of him.

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he let his gaze drag over her slowly, taking in every little detail. The way her lips parted slightly after drinking, the way a stray droplet of water slipped down the side of her mouth.

Before she could wipe it away, he reached out.

His thumb brushed against her chin, slow, deliberate.

YN froze.

San’s eyes flickered to hers, his touch lingering just a second too long before he finally pulled away.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice smooth like honey, but laced with something undeniably sinful. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

YN clenched her jaw, gripping the empty glass tightly.

She hated him.

But the way he looked at her, like he could devour her whole, made her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling.

And San?

San knew exactly what he was doing.

“What do you want from me?” YN’s voice was sharp, filled with both exhaustion and defiance.

San simply stared at her, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, with a slow, almost innocent tilt of his head, he said, “Nothing.”

Liar.

She knew he was toying with her. She felt it in the way he spoke, in the way he looked at her—as if she was some intriguing puzzle he wanted to take apart piece by piece.

She couldn’t let him do this.

Without thinking, she lifted her hand, aiming to strike him, to wipe that infuriating expression off his face.

But San was faster.

Much faster.

Before she could make contact, his hand shot up, fingers curling around her neck with practiced ease. He wasn’t squeezing—he didn’t need to. The sheer weight of his touch, the way his thumb pressed lightly against the delicate skin of her throat, was enough to steal the breath from her lungs.

With effortless strength, he pushed her back.

She fell against the pillows, her body sinking into the soft mattress as he hovered over her.

And then, for the briefest moment, San stilled.

His grip loosened slightly as he took her in.

Her doe eyes, wide and glaring up at him, holding a mix of fury and something he couldn’t quite place. Her lips, parted ever so slightly, her breath coming in uneven puffs. And her hair—God, her hair—spilled in every direction, a wild halo of silk against the dark sheets.

Beautiful.

He had always admired beautiful things.

But this—her, beneath him, looking like something he wanted to ruin—this was something else entirely.

His fingers twitched against her throat, and he let out a quiet hum, his gaze darkening as he leaned in just a fraction.

YN could barely breathe.

Not because of his hold—no, he wasn’t choking her. But because of the way he looked at her, like he was memorizing every detail, like he owned her already.

San smirked, his voice dangerously soft as he murmured, “You’re breathtaking, princess.”

San let go of her slowly, his fingers trailing from her throat to her collarbone before finally pulling away. He watched her for a second longer, his smirk never faltering, then—just like that—he backed up.

No words. No explanation.

He simply turned on his heel and walked away.

YN lay there, her heart hammering against her ribs as she stared at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.

The door creaked open.

For a moment, she thought he might say something, might throw one last taunt her way. But he didn’t.

He left.

The door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving her alone in the deafening silence of the room.

And yet, even with him gone, the ghost of his touch lingered on her skin.

A few days has passed. YN had barely slept, her mind too clouded with the events of that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. The way he had looked at her, the way he had touched her—the way he had enjoyed watching her squirm beneath him. She hated him.

She hated that she was here, hated that she was still alive when her family wasn’t.

A soft knock at the door startled her. A maid entered, bowing slightly before speaking. “His Majesty requests your presence for breakfast.”

YN frowned. A maid? She hadn’t expected anyone to treat her with respect—she thought she would be tossed into a dungeon, starved, forgotten. But no. She was being served. It unsettled her.

Still, she said nothing and complied, following the maid through the grand halls of the palace. The castle was just as dark and overbearing as she had thought it would be, its walls decorated with deep gold accents and tall, menacing windows. Nothing about it was warm. Just like him.

When they reached the dining hall, the large doors were pushed open, revealing an elegant table set with more food than she had seen in days. Her stomach twisted, but not from hunger. Because there, seated at the head of the table, was San. And he was already watching her. Her appetite vanished instantly.

San smirked, leaning forward slightly as he rested his chin on his hand. “Good morning, princess.”

YN swallowed, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

She refused to answer.

Instead, she slowly walked toward the table, forcing herself to keep her back straight as she sat down. The maid moved to pour her a drink, but she barely noticed.

All she could feel was his gaze.

San chuckled, clearly amused by her discomfort. “What’s wrong? Not hungry?”

YN clenched her jaw. Hungry? How could she eat in front of the very man who had stolen her kingdom, who had killed her family? She gripped the silverware in front of her, trying to steady herself, trying not to snap. But the longer she sat there, the more unbearable it became.

San leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Eat, princess,” he murmured, voice dripping with mockery. “I don’t want you starving on me.”

YN clenched her jaw, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress beneath the table. She forced a smile, though her teeth were gritted in pure loathing.

"I wouldn't dare eat before His Majesty," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

San only smirked at her response, clearly entertained. He leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table before tilting his head. "That’s sweet of you, princess," he mused. "But I insist. I want my little princess to eat first."

Before she could protest, he reached for a piece of meat, slicing it with ease. He speared the piece with a fork and, without hesitation, held it up to her lips.

"Open."

YN stared at him, unimpressed. "I don’t eat meat."

San’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened.

"Too bad," he said, his voice void of sympathy. "You need to follow orders, princess."

His tone was firm now, leaving no room for argument. He wasn’t asking. He was commanding.

YN swallowed, her breath steady despite the way her stomach churned. She didn’t want to obey him—she refused to. But she knew how dangerous he was. She had seen it with her own eyes.

San was ruthless. And he would enjoy making her suffer if she disobeyed.

Still, she didn’t move.

San sighed dramatically, lowering the fork slightly. "Do I need to feed you myself?" he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

YN clenched her fists beneath the table.

She had lost her kingdom. She had lost her family.

And now, she was losing control.

But what choice did she have?

YN hesitated for a moment, her stomach twisting in revulsion. But the look in San’s eyes told her there was no room for negotiation.

Slowly, reluctantly, she parted her lips.

San smirked in satisfaction and pushed the piece of meat into her mouth. His fingers brushed against her lips ever so slightly, lingering for just a second too long before pulling away.

She wanted to spit it out. Gods, she wanted to spit it out. But she didn’t. She forced herself to chew, swallowing the bite with as much grace as she could muster.

San watched her the entire time, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Her fingers twitched. She wanted to slap that smirk right off his face.

Instead, she reached for the glass of water beside her, desperately trying to wash away the taste of the meat that burned her throat like poison.

San leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he studied her. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

YN didn’t answer. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

San chuckled. He could see the anger burning in her eyes, the way her entire body tensed with barely restrained rage. Oh, how he enjoyed this. Watching her fight against her own pride, watching her struggle between her hatred for him and her will to survive.

"You’ll get used to it," he said lazily, taking another bite of his own food.

YN swallowed down her fury. She had to be careful. She had to be smart.

She wasn’t just a prisoner in this palace—she was a captive in his hands. And San was playing a game.

She just didn’t know the rules yet.

YN sat stiffly in her seat, her stomach churning with disgust—not just from the food, but from him.

San, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He ate slowly, savoring every bite, his sharp eyes flickering toward her every now and then, like a predator keeping an eye on his prey.

When he was done, he wiped his mouth with a cloth, then tossed it onto the table carelessly. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.

Then, without warning, he stood.

YN instinctively tensed as he walked around the table. His boots echoed against the marble floor, each step heavy, purposeful. She kept her gaze locked on the table, her fingers gripping the edge of her seat. But San didn’t stop until he was standing right behind her.

She felt his presence before she saw him. The heat radiating from him, the way the air around her seemed to shift. Then—

A hand.

Slow, deliberate fingers brushing over her shoulder.

YN flinched, but she refused to move. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react.

San leaned down, his breath warm against the side of her neck.

"You surprise me, princess," he murmured, his voice smooth, deep. "I thought you’d be more difficult. But you listened. You obeyed." His fingers trailed up, brushing the strands of her hair away from her neck. YN’s breath hitched, but she kept her face blank, forcing herself to stare at the empty plate in front of her.

"Maybe you're smarter than I thought," San mused, his tone dripping with amusement.

Then, without warning, he grabbed her chin, tilting her head back so she was forced to look at him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes. Dark. Intense. Amused.

A smirk played at his lips, and for a terrifying moment, she swore he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"Or maybe," he whispered, tilting his head slightly, "you’re just waiting for the right moment to fight back."

YN’s pulse pounded in her ears. San chuckled, his grip on her chin tightening just slightly before he let go. He straightened, taking a step back, but his presence still loomed over her.

"Either way," he said, voice smooth, "I’m looking forward to it."

As San spoke, his fingers lazily twirled a lock of her hair between them. The contrast was eerie—the way his voice was dark and commanding, yet his touch was almost gentle. Almost.

YN swallowed hard, keeping her expression blank, but inside, she was unraveling.

Why was he doing this? Why was he toying with her like this?

San hummed, his fingers drifting lower, brushing through the strands like he had all the time in the world. "Soft," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

She clenched her fists under the table. She wanted to jerk away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep her still. Not painfully—no, that wasn’t his style. He didn’t need to use force. His presence alone was enough to keep her frozen. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against the top of her head.

"You have no idea how much I enjoy this," he mused, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Seeing you like this. Trying so hard to keep your composure, when I know—" he tugged her hair lightly, making her tilt her head back just enough to meet his gaze "—that inside, you’re burning."

YN gritted her teeth.

San smirked, his fingers giving one last slow glide through her hair before finally—finally—he let go.

"Keep up the act, princess," he murmured, straightening. "Let’s see how long you last." And with that, he walked away, leaving YN sitting there, her breath uneven, her body tense.

Her hair still tingled from his touch.

She hated it. She hated him.

It had been days since YN had been trapped in this dark, unfamiliar place. The once-proud princess of Eldoria, now nothing more than a caged bird under the watchful eye of a ruthless king.

During those days, she had no purpose. No books to read, no people to talk to, nothing. Just the sound of the ticking clock and the occasional knock of a servant bringing her food.

And then there was him.

San.

He would come in whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he would simply stand there, watching her like she was some fascinating puzzle he was trying to solve. Other times, he would speak, his voice smooth and teasing, dripping with manipulation.

"Are you lonely, princess? You don’t have to be. You just have to behave."

"What a shame. You were once so free, and now you have nothing. But don’t worry—I can give you something. You only have to ask."

And then he would leave, always before she could snap back, before she could gather her words.

It was driving her insane.

Not the captivity, not even the fear—the boredom.

He wouldn't let her do anything. No dancing, no walking outside, no distractions.

She was starting to feel like a doll left on a shelf, waiting for the moment he decided to pick her up and play his twisted little games.

She hated him.

She hated how he controlled everything—her time, her space, even the very air she breathed in his presence.

And she hated that, despite everything, he still had the nerve to act like he was enjoying this more than she was suffering.

San sat in his grand chamber, the dim candlelight casting sharp shadows over his sharp features. He leaned back in his chair, one arm resting lazily on the armrest while the other traced the rim of his wine glass. His thoughts, however, were far from idle.

She was going to be here for a while. That much was certain. And since she was his now—his possession, his captive, his—it was only natural that he knew everything about her. So, he had sent his right-hand man to dig into her past.

It wasn’t an easy task. After all, he had razed Eldoria to the ground, left nothing but ashes and ruins in his wake. Most of her kingdom’s history had burned with it.

But his man was efficient, and somehow, he had managed to unearth something.

San read through the parchment, his sharp eyes scanning every word. YN—once a beloved princess, a figure of grace and kindness. People had adored her, and not just because she was royalty. She had been… good. She had spent her days tending to the kingdom’s gardens, running her fingers through delicate petals, ensuring that life flourished around her. She had a habit of visiting the commoners, speaking to them as if she were one of them.

She had been everything a ruler should be. San scoffed, amused. How naive. But what intrigued him the most was the last detail.

She had been a dancer. A dedicated one. Trained, disciplined, someone who had spent hours perfecting her craft.

San tapped his fingers against the table. A princess who danced. A girl who once moved freely, who now sat caged in his palace with nowhere to go.

He smirked. Oh, how he could use this.

San leaned back in his chair, his smirk deepening as he thought about it. A princess who danced, who tended to flowers, who was gentle—a true princess in every sense. She was nothing like the women he had encountered before, hardened by war or desperate for power.

She was delicate. Refined. Soft. And she was his now.

The idea of her being his personal entertainer amused him. The once-proud princess, forced to dance solely for his pleasure. The same girl who had glared at him with pure hatred, who had tried to fight him—kneeling before him, moving gracefully under his command. The thought alone sent a thrill down his spine. He wanted to see it. Wanted to watch her move, watch her surrender that grace to him.

His fingers drummed against the table as he made up his mind.

He would give her no choice. If she was going to be here, if she was going to belong to him, then she would have to earn her place.

And what better way than by using the very thing that once made her special?

The heavy doors to her room slammed open without warning, the force of it making the walls tremble. YN flinched, her fingers tightening around the book she had been reading. She barely had a moment to process before San strode in, his presence overwhelming, suffocating even. He moved with that effortless confidence, like a predator who knew nothing could touch him. His dark clothing contrasted sharply against the golden glow of the candles, his sharp jawline cast in perfect shadow. His eyes—cold, calculating—pinned her in place as he approached. He stopped right in front of her.

She had been sitting on the bed, legs tucked beneath her, the book resting in her lap. Now, she sat frozen under his piercing gaze.

San tilted his head slightly, studying her. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it moments ago. His lips curled, not in kindness, but in something far more sinister—amusement, control, ownership.

"You look so comfortable," he mused, voice dangerously smooth. "It almost makes me forget you're a captive." She swallowed, trying not to react.

He reached forward, slow and deliberate, and plucked the book from her hands. His fingers ghosted over hers for a second, a contrast of warmth and chill. He flipped through the pages lazily, before his smirk deepened.

"Interesting," he murmured, snapping the book shut with one hand. YN clenched her jaw. "You gave that to me." San let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

"I did," he admitted, stepping even closer. His knee brushed against the edge of the mattress. He leaned down slightly, enough that she could feel the heat of him, smell the faint scent of leather and spice. He reached out, his fingers skimming through her hair—something he seemed to love doing.

YN clenched her fists. She hated how he touched her so freely, how he invaded her space like he owned it. But most of all—she hated the way he made it impossible to breathe.

San watched her closely, his eyes dark with amusement. He had noticed it—the way she sat idly for days, locked in this golden cage he had given her. She had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to talk to. So of course, she was bored.

But YN didn’t trust him, and she had every reason not to.

Still, when he spoke, his voice was almost casual. "I was thinking," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you must be getting bored."

She stiffened. Of course, she was. But admitting anything to him felt like a loss. She remained still, watching him warily. San exhaled sharply, as if her silence annoyed him. He shifted slightly, bringing a gloved hand up to her chin. His fingers were deceptively gentle as they tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Are you?" he asked again.

For a moment, she debated whether or not to answer. But the way his grip tightened—just a fraction—told her it wasn’t a request. Reluctantly, she gave a small nod.

San clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "That won’t do." His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, lingering just long enough to make her tense. His smirk deepened at her reaction. "If I ask a question, little princess, I expect words," he murmured. "Try again."

YN swallowed hard, her voice quieter than she would have liked. "Yes."

San grinned. "See? That wasn’t so hard." He released her, taking a step back as if satisfied.

"Since you’re bored," he mused, turning slightly, "I think I’ll give you something to do."

She narrowed her eyes. "And what would that be?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, that wicked smirk never fading. "You’re going to dance for me."

YN was furious. “You're making me do this act of shame for what?”

San merely raised a brow at her outburst, completely unfazed. If anything, he looked amused.

"Shaming you?" he repeated, stepping closer. His voice was as smooth as silk, but there was something sharp beneath it. "You think I’m asking you to shame yourself?"

YN clenched her fists. "You’re making me put on a show for you like a performer, like some—"

"Like a princess," he interrupted, tilting his head slightly. His smirk deepened as he took another slow step toward her. "And isn't that what you are?"

She was furious now. "This dance is part of my kingdom’s culture," she snapped. "You’ve already taken everything from me. I won’t let you exploit this too."

San chuckled, dark and quiet. "Exploit?" he mused. "You call it exploitation. I call it appreciation." Her glare only fueled his amusement.

She furiously stood up "By making me dance in front of you for your entertainment? You think that’s appreciation?"

He didn’t move. He just stood there, watching her, his expression unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, he reached out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her flush against him.

YN gasped, her hands instinctively landing on his chest. His grip was firm but not painful, his warmth radiating through his clothes. She struggled, but he didn’t let go. His eyes bore into hers.

"Do you really think I see you as just some performer?" he murmured, voice dropping lower. "I could have killed you, little princess. I should have."

His fingers trailed up her arm, slow and deliberate. "But I didn’t. I kept you. And now, I want to see you—your kingdom’s pride, your so-called untouchable grace." He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her skin. "You can call it whatever you want," he whispered, "but in the end, you will dance for me."

YN felt the weight of defeat settle deep in her chest. It was suffocating. She had nothing left—no kingdom, no family, no power. Even her pride, the one thing she had tried so desperately to hold onto, was slipping through her fingers.

San had taken everything from her. And now, even in this moment, he stood before her, completely in control. Her shoulders slumped as she took a slow step back, gaze falling to the floor. She hated this. Hated him. Hated how powerless she was.

San watched her reaction closely, his smirk unwavering.

"See?" he murmured. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then, to her surprise, he took a step closer—not with the same overwhelming dominance he usually carried, but with something else. Something almost teasing.

"Here," he said suddenly, reaching for her hair. "I'll even braid your hair to make it beautiful."

YN’s breath hitched. "What—"

But she couldn’t even finish before she felt his fingers threading through her locks.

He was gentle.

She wanted to recoil, to shove him away, but her body wouldn’t move. She stood frozen as he worked, weaving her long strands between his fingers, moving with ease as if he had done this a hundred times before. San was good at it. Too good.

"Surprised?" he mused, clearly amused by her silence. "You think a king can’t do something as simple as braiding hair?" His fingers moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring the feeling.

YN hated how calming it was.

He was quiet for a moment before he murmured, "My mother used to do this for me when I was young. Before she died." That caught her off guard.

She dared to glance at him, but his expression was unreadable.

Then, as if remembering himself, San smirked again. "But I suppose that doesn't matter now."

He tied off the end of the braid, admiring his work. "There," he said, stepping back. "Now you look even more like a princess."

YN clenched her fists at her sides. "You're cruel," she whispered.

San only chuckled, dark and low. "And yet, here you are—letting me braid your hair."

The music played softly in the grand hall, but to YN, it felt like a cruel command rather than a melody. Her bare feet hesitated against the cold marble floor. Her body still ached, her legs not fully recovered from the injuries. Every step sent a dull pain through her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

San sat on his throne, legs spread lazily, elbow resting on the armrest, fingers curled under his chin. His dark eyes never left her. They followed every movement, every step, every sway of her body with an intensity that made her skin crawl.

He looked hungry. Not for food. Not for violence.

For her.

YN’s breath was uneven, but she forced herself to keep going. The dance that once brought her joy, the tradition of her people, now felt like shackles binding her to his will.

San exhaled slowly, his gaze dragging over her form. “Keep going,” he murmured, voice low and smooth, yet laced with authority.

Her knees almost buckled.

His gaze burned into her skin, drinking in every movement like a man who had been deprived for too long.

YN gritted her teeth, forcing herself to continue. She could feel his eyes tracing the curve of her waist, the arch of her neck, the way her braid swayed with her movements. He was enjoying this.

Not just the dance itself, but the fact that he was the reason she was dancing.

San leaned forward slightly, his smirk deepening. "It’s almost a shame," he mused. "That a princess like you should be wasted on a throne when you were clearly born to move like this.”

YN nearly stumbled. And the moment she stumbled, she knew something was wrong. Her vision blurred, the golden chandeliers above melting into streaks of light. The grand hall, once a suffocating prison, now felt like it was spinning around her, pulling her deeper into an abyss she couldn't escape.

Her legs trembled beneath her, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She tried to focus—on the cold marble beneath her feet, on the heavy silence that replaced the music, on anything that could ground her. But all she could see was him.

San.

He remained seated, watching her with an expression that sent chills down her spine. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, lips curling into that damned smirk. The world tilted again. Her body swayed uncontrollably, her limbs heavy, her strength slipping away.

Then—darkness.

The last thing she saw before her knees buckled was San’s sinister smile.

He didn’t move to catch her. He didn’t call for help. He simply watched as she crumpled to the floor.

San exhaled slowly as he crouched beside her, his sharp eyes drinking in every delicate feature. Her long lashes fluttered slightly, her lips parted as she breathed weakly, and her hair, now slightly disheveled from the fall, fanned out around her like ink spilled on the cold marble.

She was beautiful. Too beautiful to let go.

His gloved fingers traced a strand of her hair, twisting it between his fingers as he studied her face. She had danced until she collapsed—until her body could no longer obey her. And all for him. A slow smirk curled on his lips.

"You really are something, little princess," he murmured, his voice deep, filled with an almost lazy amusement.

His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down. Even unconscious, she looked defiant—like she was fighting even in her sleep. San leaned closer, his lips hovering just near her ear.

"I will break you," he whispered, his voice laced with a dangerous promise. "But I will put you back together as mine."

He pulled away slightly, his gaze sweeping over her unconscious form. Then, with no sense of urgency, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

She was light. Too light. San clicked his tongue.

"You're still weak," he mused, as if speaking to himself. "I’ll have to fix that."

With long, unhurried strides, he carried her toward the grand doors. His boots echoed against the empty hall, the only sound accompanying them. The princess belonged to him now. And San always got what he wanted.

When YN's eyes fluttered open, she was met with a sight she did not expect.

The room around her was nothing like the one she had been confined to before. It was magnificent—grander, richer, almost suffocating in its opulence. Deep crimson drapes cascaded from the towering windows, gold accents lining every carved detail of the walls. The bed she lay on was vast, the silk sheets beneath her softer than anything she had ever known.

But none of that mattered. Because he was there.

San.

He sat on the bed, resting against the bedpost with one arm draped over the carved wood, watching her with unreadable eyes. But the problem wasn’t just that he was there.

The problem was that he was shirtless.

The flickering candlelight cast sharp shadows across his toned torso, emphasizing every defined muscle, every scar carved into his skin like war medals. He looked relaxed—too relaxed—as if he had all the time in the world to simply watch her. Panic surged through her veins like fire.

Her breath hitched, and before her mind could even catch up, her body reacted. She immediately sat up, the sheets pooling around her, and scrambled off the bed. Her bare feet hit the cool floor as she backed away, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the terrifyingly alluring man before her. San exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips as he lazily tilted his head.

"Running away again?" he mused, his voice deep, teasing. "How adorable." YN swallowed hard. She knew better now. Running wasn’t an option.

But being near him? That was just as dangerous.

YN's voice was hoarse when she finally found the courage to speak. "Why am I here?"

San didn’t answer right away. He simply stretched, his muscles flexing as he let out a lazy sigh, before tilting his head toward her. “Does it matter?” he said casually, as if her presence in his chambers was the most natural thing in the world. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, frustration simmering beneath her fear. “Of course, it matters—”

But before she could continue, San suddenly chuckled, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. “Why are you so scared?” he teased, lips curling into that familiar, maddening smirk. “I haven’t done anything. Yet.”

Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to stand her ground. She hesitated for a moment before finally answering, her voice quieter now. “In my kingdom… it is inappropriate for an unmarried woman to share a bed with a man.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then San let out a low hum, tapping his fingers against the bedpost as if deep in thought. His smirk grew wider.

"Ah… so that's what’s bothering you," he mused. His eyes darkened with amusement as he leaned forward just slightly. "Then I suppose… you should be grateful I let you sleep alone last night.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat.

San was playing with her. And he was enjoying it.

San chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down YN’s spine. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he watched her with that ever-present glint of amusement.

“You won’t be unmarried for long,” he said casually, as if he were discussing the weather.

YN blinked. “What?” Her voice came out quieter than she intended, confusion flickering in her eyes.

San didn’t hesitate. He met her gaze head-on, his smirk sharpening into something more dangerous. “I’m going to marry you.”

Silence.

The words hit her like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. She stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to tell her it was another one of his cruel jokes. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head, his expression unreadable now. Deadly serious. “I’ve already decided,” he continued, as if that was the end of the discussion. “You’ll be my queen.”

YN took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. “No,” she breathed. “You’re insane if you think—”

San suddenly stood, and she immediately froze. He wasn’t smirking anymore.

His gaze was intense, piercing through her like a blade. “I think you’re forgetting something, little princess.” His voice dropped lower, the weight of his authority pressing down on her. “Everything here… belongs to me.”

He took a slow step toward her.

“The palace.” Another step.

“The people.” Another.

“And you.”

YN’s back hit the wall, her breath caught in her throat as San loomed over her.

“There’s no escape, YN,” he murmured, reaching out to trace a strand of her hair between his fingers. “So don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

His lips curled into a smirk again, but his eyes?

They promised that he never said things he didn’t mean.

YN clenched her fists, gathering the courage to speak. “I won’t marry you,” she said firmly, though there was still a tremor in her voice. “You’re… you’re way older than me.”

San raised a brow, his lips twitching in amusement. “Older?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, little princess, that’s hardly an issue. A few years mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Besides,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, “older men are wiser. Stronger. More capable of protecting what’s theirs.” His voice dropped, smooth like silk but laced with quiet dominance. “And you? You are mine now, aren’t you?”

YN swallowed, refusing to be rattled. “Marriage is supposed to be based on love,” she blurted out, gripping the fabric of her dress.

San stilled for a moment before exhaling a soft laugh. “Love?” He said the word like it was foreign to him, like it amused him. His fingers reached out, ghosting over the ends of her hair as he watched her intently. “You think love is what keeps a marriage strong?” His voice was deceptively soft, almost hypnotic. “No, little princess. Love is fragile. It crumbles. But power? Loyalty? Fear?” His gaze darkened. “Those are unshakable.”

He leaned in just enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. “And don’t worry,” he murmured, his smirk returning. “You’ll learn to love me eventually.” He pulled away then, as if the conversation was already settled.

YN’s heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to argue, to fight back, but deep down, she knew—

San never changed his mind.

San’s voice was smooth, almost reassuring. “You don’t need to worry,” he said, as if his words could magically erase her fears. “I’ll take care of you. Give you everything you could ever want. Shower you with fortune, with power.” His fingers traced the edge of a gold-embroidered pillow as he spoke, his gaze never leaving her.

But YN didn’t want that. She never had.

She clenched her fists at her sides, her heart twisting painfully. This was not what she had dreamed of. She had always wanted love—real love, the kind her parents had. She had spent her childhood watching the way her father would soften whenever he looked at her mother, the way they laughed together, the way they held each other with warmth and affection. She had wanted that for herself one day. Not this.

Not a forced marriage with a ruthless king who saw love as a weakness.

Her throat felt tight, but she managed to whisper, “This isn’t what I imagined.” San tilted his head, watching her with unreadable eyes. “What did you imagine, then?” His voice was calm, but there was something lurking beneath it.

YN hesitated. She didn’t want to tell him. Didn’t want to give him more power over her. But at the same time, she needed him to understand. “I imagined… a family,” she admitted softly. “A husband who loves me. Who looks at me the way my father looked at my mother. I don’t want riches or power. I just wanted…” She trailed off, unable to finish.

San’s smirk faded slightly, his expression darkening.

Then he chuckled, shaking his head. “Love,” he mused, almost to himself. “You really think love is enough to build a life on?”

His fingers suddenly caught her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm, unyielding.

“You’ll learn, little princess,” he murmured. “You’ll see that love is nothing but a fragile illusion.” His thumb brushed against her lower lip before he released her. “But don’t worry. I’ll give you something much better.”

He stepped back. “You’ll have me. And in time, that will be all you need.”

YN’s stomach twisted in despair. Because deep down, she knew—San never said things he didn’t mean.

YN took a deep breath, steadying herself. She knew San wasn’t someone she could reason with. He was a man who took what he wanted, who bent the world to his will without a second thought. And clearly, he had decided that she would be his.

But that didn’t mean she would accept it.

She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance. “I know I can’t change your mind,” she admitted, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be happily married to you.”

San's smile didn't waver, but something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, something dark. He took a slow step toward her, closing the space between them with effortless ease.

“You say that now,” he murmured, his voice low and almost amused. “But things change, little princess. People change.” His fingers reached out, barely grazing a lock of her hair before he let it slip through his fingers. “You’ll come to understand soon enough.”

YN clenched her fists, resisting the shiver that threatened to crawl down her spine. “I will never love you,” she stated firmly.

San simply chuckled, stepping even closer until she had no choice but to tilt her head up to keep looking at him. “Who said anything about love?” he whispered. His breath was warm against her skin. “You’ll belong to me—whether you love me or not.”

YN’s heart pounded, but she forced herself not to look away. If he thought she would break that easily, he was wrong. San studied her for a moment, then let out a small hum of amusement. “I like that fire in your eyes,” he mused. “I wonder how long it’ll last.”

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing there—trapped in a fate she wanted no part of.

YN lay stiffly in the bed, her back turned to him. The mattress was soft, far more luxurious than anything she had ever slept on before, yet she couldn’t relax. Not when the very man who had destroyed her life was lying so close behind her.

She flinched when she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest. San held her close, his grip firm yet strangely gentle, as if he was claiming her but didn’t want to break her—at least not yet. His warmth surrounded her, but it wasn’t comforting. It was suffocating.

“Tell me something,” his voice was softer now, almost coaxing, as he rested his chin lightly near her shoulder. “Before all of this… before I came and took what was mine… what did you think your married life would be like?”

YN hesitated. She didn’t want to answer him. She didn’t want to let him in, to give him even a glimpse of the dreams she once held so dearly. But his grip around her waist tightened just slightly, a silent warning that he expected her to answer.

Taking a shaky breath, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I wanted a loving husband,” she admitted reluctantly. “Someone who would cherish me, not own me.”

San didn’t say anything, so she continued, her voice quieter now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. “I always imagined a peaceful life. A home filled with laughter. Two children… an older son and a younger daughter.” A small, sad smile ghosted her lips. “I thought I’d marry someone who truly loved me, and we would raise them together, surrounded by warmth and kindness.”

San hummed thoughtfully. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on her side, a stark contrast to the dangerous man she knew he was. “A husband who loves you, two perfect children… how sweet.” He chuckled softly, though there was something unreadable in his tone. “You dream too softly for this cruel world, little princess.”

YN swallowed hard, gripping the silk sheets beneath her. She didn’t want to hear that from him. She didn’t want him to mock what little hope she had left.

San sighed, his warm breath fanning against her neck. “Love is an illusion,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing her skin. “Power, control… those are real. And I am real. You are mine, whether you accept it or not.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

San felt it. His thumb brushed against her waist, but he said nothing more. Instead, he simply held her tighter, as if he could mold her into his world through sheer force alone. And YN, despite everything, lay there in silence, trapped in the arms of the man who had stolen her future.

Days passed, and to YN’s surprise, San was… different. Not entirely, of course. He was still terrifying, still the man who had destroyed everything she knew. But he wasn’t as cruel as before.

He no longer forced her into uncomfortable situations just to see her squirm. He didn’t toy with her pride as much, nor did he threaten her with the same intensity. He was still controlling, still possessive, but something had shifted.

San was still bad. Just… not as bad.

He still made her dance for him, but now, he ensured that she had the proper shoes for it. He still forced her to eat at his table, but he no longer demanded she eat meat. He even went as far as making sure her meals were tailored to her tastes.

And then there were the moments in between—when he wasn’t being the ruthless king, the tyrant she had come to loathe. Moments where he would sit with her, watching her read, commenting lazily on the books she chose. Sometimes, he would run his fingers through her hair absentmindedly, braiding and unbraiding it as if it was his personal pastime. Other times, he would simply exist in the same space as her, not demanding, not pushing—just watching.

It was unsettling.

Because YN didn’t know what he wanted. She didn’t know what his end goal was. He had taken her, claimed her as his future bride, yet he wasn’t forcing her into marriage immediately. It was as if he was waiting for something.

San had been lounging beside her, his usual confident smirk in place as his sharp eyes flickered to the book in her hands. “That book,” he mused, tilting his head, “seems dreadfully boring.”

YN instinctively wanted to argue, to tell him how wrong he was, but then she remembered where she stood. She wasn’t in her home, in her kingdom. She was here, in his palace, a prisoner no matter how much luxury surrounded her. So instead of fighting back, she simply lowered her gaze, her grip on the book tightening as sadness settled over her features. San noticed.

His smirk faltered for a brief second before he leaned forward, his voice shifting into something lighter, almost teasing. “Alright then, tell me—what is it about?”

She hesitated, her fingers playing with the edge of the pages. But after a moment, she softly answered, “It’s about a girl who lost everything and had to rebuild her life somewhere new.”

San hummed, watching her carefully. “Sounds familiar.” She stiffened, but before he could ruin the moment, he continued, “And? What does she do?”

YN glanced at him cautiously before her eyes flickered back to the book. “She learns. She makes friends. She finds purpose again.”

Something shifted in her tone—just the smallest change, but San caught it. Her voice grew steadier, her words flowing more freely as she continued. “She thought she would never find happiness again, but little by little, she discovers new things that make her smile. Even in a place she once feared, she finds something worth holding onto.”

Her eyes lit up as she spoke, the weight on her shoulders seeming to lift, if only for a moment. She wasn’t talking to the cruel king who had stolen her life. She was simply speaking about something she loved.

San didn’t miss it.

He leaned back, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked. “You really like this book, don’t you?”

She blinked, suddenly realizing how much she had said. The light in her eyes dimmed as she clutched the book close to her chest, lips pressing into a thin line.

San clicked his tongue. “Tsk. There it is again.”

She looked at him, confused. “What?”

He tilted his head. “You’re always holding yourself back around me. But just now? You weren’t.”

YN swallowed, unsure how to respond.

San let out a breath, reaching forward before she could react. His fingers brushed against the strands of her hair, twirling a lock between his fingers as he murmured, “I think I like you better when you talk freely.”

YN stiffened, heart pounding. But San just smirked, letting the hair slip from his fingers as he leaned back.

“Keep reading, little princess.”

San grabbed a towel and slung it over his shoulder, stretching slightly before making his way toward the bathroom. YN watched him go but didn’t say anything, just lowering her gaze back to her book. The sound of water running filled the room, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A while later, the door creaked open, and steam drifted out as San stepped back into the room.

He was fresh out of the bath, his damp hair slightly tousled, strands sticking to his forehead. Water still clung to his skin, glistening under the warm light as droplets trailed down his chest. His robe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing glimpses of his toned frame, and his presence alone seemed to take up all the space in the room.

But his sharp eyes immediately found her.

YN was sitting in front of the mirror, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the ends of her hair. She looked deep in thought, her brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed together as if she was hesitating over something.

San smirked.

He walked up behind her, his reflection appearing in the mirror as he placed both hands on the table, leaning down slightly. His voice was smooth, teasing.

“You want to ask something.”

YN jolted a little, her fingers tightening around her hair as she met his gaze in the reflection. He tilted his head, eyes flickering over her expression. “Go on,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. “Ask away.”

YN hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. It was obvious she felt embarrassed, her posture stiff as if she was trying to disappear into herself. San watched her through the mirror, waiting with an amused yet patient look, though there was a glint of curiosity in his dark eyes. After a long silence, she finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I… talk to a maid?”

San straightened slightly, tilting his head. His smirk remained, but his eyes darkened just a little. “A maid?” he repeated, sounding unimpressed. She nodded quickly, still not meeting his gaze.

He scoffed, stepping around her so that he was now facing her directly. “Why?”

“I just need to ask her something,” she murmured.

San didn’t like that answer. He was nosy about her. He wanted to know everything—her thoughts, her feelings, even the small things that made her nervous like this. And this? This was something she was clearly reluctant to share. That only made him more curious.

He leaned in slightly, one brow raising. “Ask her what?”

YN swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s not important.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?” he shot back smoothly.

She tensed, her grip tightening on her sleeve. She knew he wasn’t going to drop this. San was persistent, and if she continued dodging, he’d only make things worse for her.

With a deep breath, she finally looked down and muttered, “My period is going to start soon.”

Silence.

Her face burned. She didn’t want to say it—especially not to him—but she had no choice. She wished the ground would swallow her whole.

San, however, was anything but embarrassed. In fact, he looked entertained. His lips curved into a knowing smile arms crossing over his broad chest.

“That’s what you were so shy about?” he chuckled. “You act like I don’t know what a period is.”

YN glared at him, her cheeks still hot. “I just wanted to ask a maid for supplies, not tell you about it.”

San hummed, stepping even closer. “You need something? I can have it brought to you.”

She clenched her jaw. “I don’t need you to handle it.”

He grinned. “Too bad. You belong to me now, which means everything you need comes from me.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower. “Even this.”

YN shut her eyes, exhaling sharply. There was no winning against him.

San let out a low chuckle. “I’ll have the maids bring you what you need. Next time, just tell me. No need to be so shy.”

She turned away, wishing this conversation would end. But as she heard him chuckle again, she knew one thing—he was enjoying this way too much.

San’s chuckle lingered in the air as he turned away from her, still clearly entertained by the whole situation. YN, on the other hand, felt like sinking into the floor. Why did it have to be him she had to tell? Why couldn’t he just let her talk to a maid like a normal person? Still, at least he said he’d send someone with what she needed. That was enough for now.

She remained sitting in front of the mirror, her hands still gripping the fabric of her dress as San walked to his side of the room. He dried his damp hair lazily with a towel, the glow from the lanterns casting soft shadows across his bare torso. YN forced herself to look anywhere but at him, but it was hard when he was the only moving presence in the dimly lit room. San finally tossed the towel aside and stretched, rolling his shoulders. He caught her reflection in the mirror, smirking at the way she was avoiding his gaze.

“You look so tense,” he commented, stepping behind her again. “Still embarrassed?”

She didn’t answer.

San tsked and placed his hands on the vanity, caging her in. “We’re going to be married, little princess,” he murmured. “You don’t have to be shy with me.”

Her hands clenched into fists, and she swallowed down the frustration rising in her throat. She hated how he spoke so casually about it. As if her opinion didn’t matter. As if she had no choice but to accept it. She took a shaky breath. “You keep talking about this marriage, but I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

San let out a low hum, his fingers tracing the wooden surface beside her. “You’ll come around.”

YN finally met his gaze in the mirror, her expression sharp. “What if I don’t?”

San grinned, but it wasn’t the playful kind—it was dark, knowing, almost dangerous. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against her ear.

“Then I’ll make sure you do.”

A shiver ran down her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was fear, frustration, or something else entirely, but she hated how easily he got under her skin.

San finally pulled away, stepping toward the bed. “Enough talking. Get some rest,” he said as he slid under the covers.

YN remained frozen for a moment before finally standing up and making her way to the bed as well. She didn’t want to sleep beside him, but what choice did she have? He had made it clear before—she wasn’t allowed to sleep anywhere else.

As she lay down, she kept her back to him, her body stiff. But just as she was beginning to relax, she felt an arm snake around her waist, pulling her against his chest. San let out a satisfied sigh, nuzzling into her hair. “Good night, princess,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement.

YN clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to ignore the way her heart pounded in her chest.

The grand wedding was too much for her. It was lavish, flamboyant, and overwhelming in every possible way. The palace was adorned with the finest silks, golden drapes cascading from the ceilings, and chandeliers that glowed like captured stardust. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air, blending with the rich aroma of feast preparations. It was a celebration fit for a queen—his queen.

Everybody took part. Nobles from distant lands arrived in their most extravagant attire, offering their congratulations to the man who had conquered not only kingdoms but now a bride. The halls echoed with the sound of music, laughter, and endless chatter about the union of King San and the fallen princess of Eldoria.

YN felt suffocated. She stood stiffly in her wedding attire, the fabric embroidered with gold, heavy on her shoulders, as if it were trying to crush her under its weight. Her hands trembled in her lap, fingers tightening around the delicate bouquet she held.

This was it.

There was no escape now.

San was standing tall beside her, dressed in his royal robes, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He looked utterly at ease, smirking at the guests as if this was just another victory in his long list of triumphs. His hand found hers, his grip firm, possessive.

"Smile," he whispered in her ear, his voice dripping with amusement. "It’s your big day, after all."

YN forced her lips to curve slightly, but she knew it didn’t reach her eyes.

The ceremony proceeded like a dream—a slow, painful one. Vows were exchanged, oaths were sealed, and with a smirk playing on his lips, San lifted her veil.

Her breath hitched as he leaned in, his fingers tilting her chin up, his gaze burning into hers before he finally captured her lips in a deep, claiming kiss.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

She closed her eyes, feeling the world spin.

She was no longer Princess YN of Eldoria.

She was now Queen YN of his empire.

The wedding feast stretched late into the night, filled with music, laughter, and the glow of golden candlelight. YN sat beside San, her hands folded neatly in her lap, feeling the weight of the rings on her fingers—symbols of a union she had never wished for. The grand hall was alive with celebration, nobles raising their goblets in toasts to their new king and queen, but YN barely touched her food. She felt like an outsider at her own wedding, trapped in a gilded cage.

San, however, was completely at ease. He carried himself like a man who had won—not just a war, but her. He accepted congratulations with his usual smirk, his presence commanding the room. Yet, no matter how many people spoke to him, his gaze always found its way back to her. Watching her. Studying her. As if trying to figure out what was going on inside that stubborn little head of hers.

As the night drew to a close, he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Time to go, princess.” His voice was softer than usual, almost teasing, but it sent a shiver down her spine nonetheless.

She hesitated, but he took her hand, guiding her through the grand halls. His grip was firm but not forceful. People bowed as they passed, whispering about how stunning she looked, how perfect they seemed together. But only she knew the truth.

When they reached the royal bedchamber, the doors shut behind them with a quiet finality. The room was breathtaking—grand and luxurious, with deep crimson drapes and gold accents, the massive bed taking up the center like a throne of its own. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and something else—something distinctly him.

She stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do.

San turned to her, watching her closely. “You look tense,” he murmured, taking a step forward.

She refused to respond.

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Then, with an ease that made her heart stutter, he started undoing the layers of his royal attire. The heavy coat was the first to go, then the rings on his fingers, the golden chains around his neck. By the time he was left in just his loose white shirt and dark pants, he looked almost… different. Less like a conqueror. More like a man.

Still, she took a small step back.

She swallowed, forcing herself to glare at him. “Marriage doesn’t mean you own me.”

He exhaled a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing through his dark hair before he looked at her again—this time, without mockery. “I know.” His voice was quiet, honest. “But I will take care of you. No matter what you think of me.”

She blinked, taken aback.

San moved to the other side of the room, pulling off his rings and setting them on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at her once more, this time without the sharpness he usually carried.

YN stood in the center of the grand chamber, the weight of her wedding dress suddenly unbearable. Layers of embroidered silk and heavy jewels clung to her like a second skin, suffocating her. She barely had the energy to stand, let alone deal with the exhaustion creeping into her bones.

San, lounging on the edge of the bed, watched her with an unreadable expression. She hesitated, gripping the delicate embroidery of her sleeves. She needed to take it off, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable stripping in front of him.

San, as if reading her mind, let out a quiet chuckle. “You’re struggling.” He pushed off the bed, walking towards her with slow, confident steps. “Want my help?”

“No,” she answered quickly, stepping back.

He smirked but said nothing. Instead, he strolled toward a corner of the room, where a silk robe had been neatly placed. He grabbed it and held it out to her. “Wear this after.”

She stared at it for a moment before snatching it from his hands. She expected him to watch, but instead, he turned his back to her.

Surprised by his rare display of restraint, she wasted no time undoing the dozens of tiny clasps running down the back of her dress. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She hurriedly pulled the robe over herself, the soft material a welcome relief against her skin.

“I’m done,” she muttered.

San turned back around, his gaze flickering over her once before he let out a satisfied hum. “Better.” Then, without another word, he strolled back to the bed, lying down like he owned the world.

She hesitated before following, keeping to the very edge of the mattress.

San turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes holding a glint of amusement. “You act like I bite.”

“You do bite,” she shot back.

He laughed, low and deep, before closing his eyes. “Only when necessary.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him, ignoring the way his voice sent an annoying warmth through her.

As she tried to sleep, she could still feel the weight of his presence behind her—the king who had taken everything from her. And yet, for some reason, he hadn’t taken this.

Not yet.

As she lay on the vast bed, wrapped in the silk robe he had given her, YN couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander. She had read enough books to know how forced marriages usually played out. The stories always spoke of cruelty, of brides being nothing more than prizes to be taken. She had braced herself for that kind of fate.

But San… didn’t do it.

Instead, he was—dare she even think it?—soft. Not in the way a gentle prince would be, not in the way fairytales promised love and warmth. No, San was still dangerous, still sharp-edged, but there was something different about him tonight.

She had expected him to take what he wanted without question. To claim her the way men like him always did in stories. But instead, he had turned his back when she changed. He had given her space. He had simply laid down, his presence commanding yet oddly non-threatening.

Like a kitten, she thought absently, though the image almost made her want to laugh. A very large, very terrifying kitten with claws that could tear you apart.

She shifted slightly, stealing a glance at him. He was lying on his back, one arm lazily draped behind his head, his dark eyes half-lidded as he stared at the ceiling. He looked… relaxed.

Not once had he touched her inappropriately. Not once had he made any crude remarks. (He literally choked you but ok ig)

Why?

She turned her face away, staring at the soft glow of the lanterns instead. Maybe this was just another manipulation tactic. Maybe he was waiting for her to let her guard down. Or maybe… maybe some small part of him actually saw her as more than just a prize.

The thought unsettled her.

Because deep down, she knew that if San ever decided he wanted something, nothing in the world could stop him from taking it. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what would happen if he ever decided he truly wanted her.

YN blinked sleepily, her vision still hazy from sleep. She stretched her arms lazily, her long sleeves slipping past her hands as she let out a small, muffled yawn. Her hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, framing her sleepy face in an unintentionally adorable way.

Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, searched the room, expecting to see San beside her—but his side of the bed was empty. Still wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, she turned her head, and there he was.

San sat at his desk, his posture relaxed but commanding, one hand holding a pen as he wrote something with effortless ease. The soft glow of the morning light caught his features just right—his sharp jawline, his dark tousled hair, the way his white shirt clung to his frame, the top few buttons left undone, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.

For the first time, he didn’t look like a monster. He looked… almost like a king should. Regal, composed, focused. Normal.

YN rubbed her eyes, still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. She tilted her head slightly, observing him, her lips unconsciously forming a small pout.

Why did he have to look that good in the morning? It was unfair.

As if sensing her gaze, San suddenly looked up. His piercing eyes met hers instantly, and for a second, neither of them spoke. His lips curled into a small, amused smirk as he leaned back in his chair.

“Did you sleep well, little princess?” His voice was deep, still carrying the remnants of sleep, and for some reason, it made her stomach do a weird little flip.

She blinked at him, still too groggy to properly respond, and just gave a slow, sleepy nod.

San chuckled, shaking his head. “You look like a little kitten.”

“I do not.”

But with her messy hair, half-lidded eyes, and small, sleepy pout, she absolutely did. And San looked far too entertained by it.

YN groggily got out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she stumbled slightly. She was still shaking off sleep, her body not fully awake yet. Without thinking, she made her way to the bathroom, craving the warmth of a shower to clear her mind.

By the time she emerged, she felt fresher, more alert. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, the scent of soap and flowers lingering around her. But now, standing in the middle of the grand room, she realized—she had no idea what to do next.

Her life had always been structured, filled with responsibilities, duties, and expectations. But here? She had nothing. No routine, no obligations. No real freedom, either. Without really thinking, she turned towards the only person who did know what to do.

San.

He was still at his desk, leaning back in his chair, one hand propped under his chin as he watched her approach. His sharp eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in her fresh appearance, his lips twitching into something close to a smirk. She stopped in front of him, hesitating. Now fully awake, she felt slightly embarrassed that she had come to him of all people. But she pushed past it and, in a soft voice, asked,

“…What should I do now?”

San’s smirk deepened, his gaze flickering with amusement. He rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, tilting his head as he looked up at her.

“You’re asking me?” he mused, his voice slow, teasing. “What a good little wife you are.”

YN’s cheeks heated instantly. “That’s not—!”

San chuckled, waving a hand. “Relax, princess. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

Her brows furrowed. Free? That word felt strange coming from his mouth.

San, sensing her doubt, leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to something softer. “Go walk around. Read. Sit by the window and braid your hair, since you love doing that.” His eyes glinted with something unreadable. “Or… you can just sit here and keep me company.”

YN bit her lip. None of those things felt fulfilling. But at least now, she knew one thing—San wasn’t planning to throw her back into isolation. For now.

YN stood there, fidgeting slightly, as the realization settled in. She didn’t know what to do. It was a strange, unsettling feeling—one she had never truly experienced before.

Back in her kingdom, her days were always planned for her. From the moment she woke up to the moment she went to bed, every decision had already been made—what she wore, what she studied, where she went, how she behaved. And now, standing here with the freedom to choose, she felt... lost.

San, who had been watching her closely, let out a small chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, looking effortlessly regal even in his relaxed posture. “What’s with that face, princess?” he mused. “You act like I just handed you the entire world.”

YN glanced at him, biting her lip. Maybe because, in a way, you did.

San tilted his head, studying her. Then, in a softer voice, he said, “You’re older now. You don’t need someone to tell you what to do every second of the day.” He tapped his fingers against the armrest. “So, tell me, what do you want to do?”

YN hesitated. She had never really been asked that before. What did she want? Then, almost instinctively, she looked up at him and answered, “I want to cook.” San blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. Then, slowly, a smirk stretched across his lips. “Cook?” he repeated, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

She nodded, a bit more firmly this time. “Yes.”

San exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Of all things…” He stood up, towering over her, before placing a hand under her chin, tilting her face up to look at him properly. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

YN swallowed, her breath hitching at how close he was. His fingers were warm against her skin, his touch gentle despite the sheer power he held.

Then, after a beat of silence, he let go and stepped back. “Fine,” he said lazily. “Let’s see what my little wife can do in the kitchen.”

YN had never felt this kind of nervousness before. She had fought battles of words, endured royal duties, and faced San’s unnerving presence more times than she could count. But this? Watching him take the first bite of the food she cooked with her own hands? It was a different kind of pressure.

She sat stiffly across from him at the long dining table, pretending to focus on her plate, but her eyes kept flickering toward him. He hadn’t said a word yet, just cutting into the dish and bringing a bite to his lips.

San chewed slowly, his face unreadable. YN gripped the fabric of her dress beneath the table. Is it bad?

Then, finally, he swallowed. He set his fork down, wiping the corner of his mouth with deliberate ease before turning his gaze to her.

“You were a princess,” he mused, voice slow and deep. “Raised in luxury, surrounded by servants to do everything for you.”

YN tensed, unsure where this was going.

“And yet,” he continued, dragging his thumb across the table absentmindedly, “you can cook like this?”

Her lips parted slightly. “I… I learned from the palace chefs,” she admitted. “They were kind enough to teach me when I was younger.” San hummed, leaning back in his chair. Then, to her shock, he smirked. “You’re full of surprises, wife.”

YN blinked, heat creeping up her neck. “So… does that mean you like it?”

San tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he picked up his fork again. “I don’t just like it,” he said, taking another bite. “I might just keep you in the kitchen forever.”

She frowned. “That’s not funny.”

San chuckled, the sound smooth and rich. “Oh, but it is.” He motioned toward her plate. “Now eat. You put in all that effort—don’t let it go to waste.”

YN exhaled, shaking her head but finally picking up her utensils.

And though she wouldn’t admit it, a small, almost unnoticeable smile played on her lips as she started eating.

San never thought he was capable of feeling guilt. He was a man who took what he wanted, ruled with an iron fist, and never once looked back at the wreckage he left behind. But YN… she had undone something in him. What started as twisted obsession had transformed into something deeper—something he couldn't even name. Love wasn't enough to describe it. He adored her, worshipped her in ways that made even him question his sanity. And yet, with every stolen glance, every soft sigh that escaped her lips when she thought he wasn’t listening, he felt the weight of his past actions press down on him. He had humiliated her. Broken her pride. Forced her into this marriage without a choice.

And yet, here she was. Cooking for him. Talking to him. Looking at him like he was a person, not a monster.

San watched her as she ate, completely unaware of the war raging in his mind. He could see the faint traces of her old self still lingering—the stubbornness, the quiet grace, the warmth she carried even when she tried to keep it from him. And for the first time, he found himself wanting something different. He wanted her to look at him without fear. He wanted her to choose him, not just accept him as an unchangeable fate.

San clenched his jaw, setting his fork down. He was not a man who apologized, not a man who begged for forgiveness. But for her? He would find a way to make things right, even if he didn’t deserve it.

San stood near the dresser, watching her through the mirror’s reflection. Her legs dangled off the edge of the bed, her bare feet swinging slightly. She looked small like this, lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown.

He sighed softly, running a hand through his dark hair before walking over to her. He crouched down, resting his forearms on his knees so they were at eye level. “You look tired,” he murmured, voice softer than usual.

YN blinked at him, a little caught off guard. He was always intense—dangerous—but tonight, there was something different about him. His eyes weren’t as sharp, his usual arrogance replaced with something quieter.

She shrugged, looking away. “I suppose”.

San hummed, tilting his head slightly. Then, without warning, he reached for her foot, gently holding her ankle in his large hand. YN stiffened, watching him closely, but he only smirked. “Relax,” he said, sliding his thumb in slow circles over her skin.

“What are you doing?” she asked, wary.

He lifted her foot slightly, resting it on his knee. “Something a loving husband would do.”

Her breath caught.

San’s touch was uncharacteristically gentle as he began to massage her foot, his fingers pressing into the arch, kneading away the tension she hadn’t realized she was holding. The warmth of his hands sent a shiver up her spine, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

She swallowed hard. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

YN’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She only watched as he worked, her heart pounding against her ribs.

San’s gaze flickered up to hers, and for once, there was no wicked glint in his eyes, no teasing smirk. Just something raw and real. “I know I’ve been… cruel,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I want to be better for you.”

Her breath hitched. She wasn’t sure what to say—wasn’t sure if she believed him. But for now, she let him hold her foot in his hands, let herself enjoy the rare moment of peace between them.

Because, for the first time, San wasn’t just claiming her.

He was asking for her.

YN sat there, her legs dangling over the edge of the tall bed, watching San with cautious eyes. She didn’t know what to expect from him anymore. He had been cruel, manipulative—everything about him had terrified her. And yet, in these past days, she had seen glimpses of something else. Something she didn’t understand.

And now, he was kneeling in front of her, holding her leg in his strong yet gentle grasp, his forehead pressed against her knee.

Her breath caught in her throat. The mighty king, the man who had stolen her life away, was bowing his head as if he was asking for forgiveness. It felt unreal.

San’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke, like he was afraid to break whatever fragile moment had settled between them. “I’ve hurt you so much, haven’t I?”

YN stiffened, her fingers clutching the fabric of her nightgown.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

San lifted his head slightly, just enough to look up at her. His dark eyes were no longer filled with their usual amusement, arrogance, or hunger. Instead, they held something else—something softer, more vulnerable. And the way he looked at her... how did he make his eyes look like that? Like a desperate plea. Like an apology.

She hated that it made her feel something.

His thumb brushed over her ankle, slow and deliberate, as if grounding himself in the touch. “I can’t take it back,” he murmured. “Everything I’ve done to you… I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking up again. “But I want to change. For you.”

YN’s heart betrayed her by skipping a beat.

No. No, she couldn’t let herself believe this.

This was the same man who had humiliated her, who had forced her into a life she never wanted. She should push him away, tell him that no matter what he did, she would never forgive him. And yet…

Her fingers twitched in her lap. And for some reason, she didn’t move.

She felt lost. Confused. Torn between everything she knew and everything she was starting to feel. Her chest tightened, her throat burned, and before she could stop it, her eyes welled up with frustration. “Why?” Her voice was quiet, shaky. “Why do you do this to me?”

San looked at her, his grip on her leg tightening just slightly. His face remained unreadable, but his fingers betrayed him, twitching against her skin as if he feared she’d pull away.

YN swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. “Why do you make it so hard to hate you?”

She wanted to. She was supposed to. She should hate him for taking her from her home, for forcing her into this life, for every cruel smirk, every mocking word, every time he made her feel powerless. She should despise him for turning her world upside down. And yet—

He was the only one in her world now. No family. No kingdom. No one else. Just him. And somehow, that realization terrified her more than anything else.

She broke.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, one after another, until she couldn't stop them. Her shoulders shook, her breathing came out in ragged gasps, and all the pain, all the frustration, all the confusion poured out of her in waves.

San couldn’t watch it. He couldn’t bear it. He got up and pulled her into his arms without hesitation. His grip was tight—desperate, almost—as if he wanted to merge with her, to keep her so close that nothing, not even the pain he had caused, could separate them.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, rough, yet softer than she had ever heard it before. He pressed his face against her hair, holding her tighter, rocking her slightly. “I’m so sorry.”

She cried even harder.

Hearing that from him—this man who had only ever taken from her, who had controlled her life in ways she never imagined—made her sob until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

And then his next words came, whispered against her temple, like a vow only she was meant to hear.

“I promise you, YN. I’ll be a good husband.”

His arms tightened around her. “I’ll make this right.”

She wanted to believe him.

She clung to him.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, gripping tightly as if he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. She buried her face into his shoulder, her sobs muffled against his warmth.

San felt it. The way she held onto him—not out of love, not yet, but out of a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he could make the pain go away. That he could fix what he had broken.

His arms wrapped around her even tighter, his hand stroking her back in slow, steady motions. “I know,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. “I know I hurt you.”

She didn’t respond. Just held on.

And San swore, in that moment, he would do anything—anything—to make it better. To deserve the way she was holding him now.

Divider from @/cafekitsune

[atzloverr]

Yandere alphabet - San

tw: yandere behavior, smut, kidnapping, bondage, jealousy, mentions of murder, manipulation

pairings: yandere!San x reader

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’ll hug you until you feel like you’re suffocating, cuddle you even when it’s so hot that you feel like you can’t breathe, all to show you just how much he loves you. He nuzzles into your neck, kisses you all over your face and almost purrs when he feels your warmth against him. The nights are his favorite, when he gets an excuse to snuggle up with you, forcing you to lie down on top of him. That’s when he’ll show his love the most, no matter if you’re tied up on the basement floor, or in his warm bed with him.

He’s like a clingy kitten, constantly on you, or beneath you. He wants to spend every waking moment with you, if not next to you, on top of you, maybe even inside of you. ”I love you so much,” he smiles. He’s on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You can feel yourself trembling slightly, thinking about the fact that San’s shirt had bloodstains on it. You didn’t even want to know how those ended up there, and you were too scared to ask.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He wouldn’t really get messy with you so to say, as in, he won’t cut you up, he won’t play with your blood or be rough with you. That, he can do with the people who hurt you, your former friends who didn’t treat you right, that guy who made you uncomfortable at the club.

The only time he’ll be messy or rough with you, is of course when he’s pleasuring you. He knows you love the way he sloppily eats you out, or fucks you at an unbelievable pace. Because even if you try to tell him that you don’t want him like that anymore, he knows your body won’t lie to him. He sees the way you squirm, the way your hips buck, the way your legs shake, how your eyes roll back. ”You can try to hide it from me baby,” he says as his fingers slowly plunge into you. ”But I know exactly what you like.”

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He will mock you, but just because of how cute you are in his eyes. Seeing you so confused and wide-eyed, he can’t help but giggle at you. When you start crying and screaming at him, he’ll apologize for laughing, wiping your cute little tears with a pout on his face.

”Aww, baby don’t cry,” San’s hands rub your shoulders as he coos. ”How could you!?” you scream at him, trying to shake his hands from you. Although, it’s basically impossible with the rope around your body. San just sighs as you shake and sob. He would usually hate this sight, so why does he find this so amusing? Why can’t he help but smile when you sniffle aggressively? ”My baby,” he giggles, letting his hands caress your face. ”I could tell you to stop crying, but honestly—” San laughs. ”You’re so adorable when you’re like this.”

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

The things he will do against your will are the things that he believes are genuinely good for you. Force feeding you, cleaning you and making you cuddle with him and sleep in his arms.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He’s absolutely vulnerable, never having the heart to hide his undying love and affection for you. He cries, he tells you his worries, he makes you feel like his therapist sometimes, with how he vents to you. No matter if you’re not ready to show vulnerability any time soon, San has no problem with showing himself like that. He tells you how worried he is that you’ll leave him someday, how long he’s been in love with you and how he’ll kill anyone who hurts you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would find you absolutely adorable when you try to push him, or when you even think that you could ever take him in a fight. Even though he knows you have no chance, he sure loves to see you try. After a while, he will get tired of it though. If you’re still reluctant after what he considers a long time, he’ll warn you. You can’t run away from him forever.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He does see it as a game in the beginning, but once a certain amount of time has passed, he’ll remind himself and you of the true goal, which is making you fall in love with him, and spending the rest of your lives together. If you still try to escape after months, San will only get hurt, and disappointed that you still don’t want to stay with him.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Probably those nights when he makes you hate yourself for hating him. It’s weird in a way, that he’s able to make you feel so bad for disliking such a horrible person. But that’s one of the things he’s best at, making you want to love him. You realize how much easier your life would be if you just gave in and loved him back, because that part of you that fell for him was indeed still in there. But even having that thought could make you doubt your entire existence.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He’s thinking marriage, kids, growing old together, that kind of life. He can’t see himself with anyone but you, living a life without you in it. He wants to experience all kinds of things, the ups and downs of life, he wants the fights, he wants the tender moments, however long it’ll take.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

San hates to even think about you with anyone other than him. You see it on his pout that he wears daily. If you even mention someone other than him, someone who did something that you liked, or someone who you used to know, San’ll immediately start whining, begging you to talk about something else. He won’t lash out often due to his jealousy, it’ll just make him more affectionate towards you, in a way that might feel suffocating. Tighter hugs, showering you in kisses and refusing to let you leave his arms.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

As you probably understand at this point, he’s extremely affectionate. He’s touchy, invading your space, getting moody if you deny his affections. He’s almost like a big cat at times, nuzzling into you or even just laying on top of you to keep you close.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He spared no time after he had first been introduced to you, suddenly walking up to you one day and using his gorgeous good looks and charming personality to seduce you. He made sure to find out exactly what you were into, when you were the most available and how he would approach you without risking scaring you off. And when that day finally arrived and he approached you at the coffee shop, he could see in your eyes that you were going to fall for him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

San really is a sweetheart, who just happens to love a bit too hard for it to be considered normal. He still has friends, and they all know how sweet he is, but once you entered his life, he was ready to let all of that go in order to keep you. The one thing that’s different from how he is around others, is when he gets scary. When his eyes grow wide, his smile makes you fear for your life and his grip around you is so tight it leaves bruises.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He’ll almost be like a parent disciplining his child in a way, making you admit your mistakes and hurting you lightly when you refuse. He won’t be very rough on you, even if you’ve done something that he considers horrible. Instead, he’ll just become cold, sad and make you almost feel bad for him as he cries and asks what he did to deserve this. He’ll stop kissing you, stop hugging you and most importantly, force you to sleep alone in the basement, tied up and with no distractions.

Once the punishment is over, he’ll hug you desperately, crying and complaining about how hard it was to leave you like that, how much he hated doing that to you. At this point, you’ll feel bad for him, his manipulation having gotten into your head.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

To start, he’ll take almost everything away. He doesn’t believe that the outside world is safe enough for you, and won’t risk you getting drawn to it - therefore taking your phone. He promises you he’ll let you walk freely on your own once you love him too, but even if you did, you’d probably be too manipulated by him at that point, not even wanting to go outside anymore.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He’s very patient with you, understanding that this new lifestyle will be hard for you to adjust to, so he’ll let you scream, let you try to escape from him, because he knows that the alternative isn’t anything he’d dream of. His worst nightmare is you genuinely hating him, so he’d hate to fuel those feelings of hatred that he knows exist deep inside of you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you ever managed to escape, San would make sure to find you, one way or another. He’ll be walking around, sobbing for days, looking anywhere and everywhere for any traces of you. He’ll be so heartbroken that you left him, but he tries his best to ignore his feelings, and focus on the matter at hand.

If - or when - he finds you, he’ll take you home immediately, and this time he won’t go easy on you. He’ll only show his emotions once he’s got you tied up, finally safe in the basement again. After that, he’ll sob into your arms, telling you how hard it was to live without you, how scared he was for your life and how he’ll never let you leave his sight ever again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Letting you go isn’t an option. He’ll eventually give you more freedom, but only if he knows you love him back and that you won’t escape. But he might feel guilty. Hearing you sob, begging him to let you go, it hurts him. He hates watching you like that, seeing that rage in your eyes and hearing you scream and cry. ”Please stop,” he says as he wipes your tears off your trembling face. ”Stop crying baby.”

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He had never known this side of him existed before he met you. He knew he was sometimes possessive over his friends in a weird way, but he had never felt it this strongly before. It might just be the fear of being left alone, the fear of not being loved, of not having anyone to love, it’s what haunts him at night.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He hates seeing you cry most of the time (unless it’s out of pleasure) and he always has to look away when he sees those droplets of water fall from your beautiful eyes, especially when you sound and look so genuinely hurt. He can find it cute at times, when you’re throwing a little tantrum, but when it’s intense and clear that it’s all his fault. It’s better when he can comfort you, wipe your tears and make you calm down, but when he punishes you and can’t make you feel better, he’ll simply leave the room and cry on his own.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Some ”classic” yanderes will kill their love, but San couldn’t even imagine such a thing. He would die for you, he would kill for you, but he would never let you die.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

You can exploit his will for you to love him, his belief that you will love him one day. Manipulating him isn’t an easy task, but it’s not impossible. You’d have to show him that affection he’s been craving, but not do too much at once. And maybe, just maybe he’ll give you just as much freedom you need in order to escape.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes, of course he would hurt you emotionally, tearing you down and building you up to make you love him. He’s the type who’ll make you believe that he would never hurt you, but he truly does, every single day. It might not seem like him, but the rope burns, the bruises from you trying to break out of your room and the headaches from not getting enough sleep, isn’t that technically him hurting you?

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Oh he worships you in every way you could think of. He’ll get on his knees, kiss up your body and look up at you with that look of pure adoration. Who doesn’t like getting this much love and attention? He thinks, as he gently touches your skin, telling you just how beautiful you are in his eyes.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It doesn’t take very long for him. He can’t hold back his undying love for you, and he’ll only wait as long as absolutely necessary.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He fell in love with you, not a you that’s broken. He wants to make sure you keep those wonderful traits of yours, and if he ever sees you change your ways, he’ll make sure to do whatever it takes to get you back.

masterlist

@mortal-advocate I’m sorry it took me such a long time to finish this.. I’ve tried to focus on other things, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!! 🩷

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 8. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A brief situation of harassment (not by any of the members) in this chapter. A/N: Forgive me for the long wait! I hope the chapter won't be disappointing or incoherent... I like writing this story but my own judgmental thoughts honestly are a kill of joy. I'm happy to receive feedback, be it constructive criticism or positive words. I hope someone will enjoy this <3 Word count: 4 062 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, you held the phone to your ear. The sound of the phone ringing was quiet and stable but it did not lessen your anxiety at all. Eventually it stopped ringing, leaving you in heavy silence. 

Jongho hadn’t answered this time either. You had tried to call him at least 20 times in a span of couple days, but it was like he had disappeared from the face of the Earth. Despite being upset at him, you were more worried than you wanted to admit. You also missed him, his stoic nature, and the unexpected moments of sweetness. 

Frustrated, you tossed the phone away. Was Jongho so childish and stubborn that he hid from you on purpose after you had kicked him out of your home? Or could he be in danger? You couldn’t help but feel bad for banishing him. That was how he probably wanted you to feel, but there was nothing to do about the feeling. 

Spring, the season of hope and new beginnings, was near so the weather was warming up. Still, it was already late in the evening. The nights at that time of the year were still cold, and you grabbed a warm jacket; one that did not attract attention. You feared the possibility that some creep would notice and follow you in the dimly lit streets of the little city you lived in. 

Maybe in another life you would have liked walks outside. But this world was evil. If you already hated being outside even in the daylight, when the moon rose on the sky, your senses were heightened to a maximum. 

The walk to Jongho’s place wasn’t practically that long despite it being on a completely different area of the city. He actually lived in a house instead of a crappy, crampy apartment like you did. 

You were always astonished by his house. It was of an appropriate size but screamed how rich he was. A slightly annoyed huff fell from your lips as you thought about how he had said you couldn’t go ice skating for it being too expensive. Dude lived in the most prestigious area of the city but complained about the cost of ice skating. The memory made you smile nonetheless. 

There was a gate separating his yard and house from the street. You rang the doorbell on it, wishing sincerely he’d let you in or at least talk to you. 

The weather wasn’t windy but you still felt cold. Maybe Jongho would see you shivering and let you in out of pity. That is if he was even alive anymore. 

The house stood dark and tall in front of you, and the only thing separating you from Jongho was the gate. Your heart clenched at the unbearable thought of having lost him forever. Losing his friendship felt even harder knowing that you had never had much friends in the first place. 

After 10 minutes, you walked away from the house, steps heavy with disappointment. You had driven Jongho away with your anger. It was difficult to remember in that moment that your anger had been completely justified. You just wanted to see Jongho again. 

As if the situation hadn’t been depressing enough already, small, cool drops of water fell on your skin. Even the sky was crying with you.  

You kept walking, bravely telling yourself that you didn’t care about the rain turning into a downpour. But eventually, it started bothering you too much. It was cold, wet and dark, and you felt yourself getting frustrated. 

You found a shelter next to a small grocery store that was nearing its closing hours. Sure, it would have been wiser to go inside the store to warm up for a moment, but you were just going to stay in the shelter for a moment for the rain to stop. 

Some people walked past you out of the store occasionally but you were too deep in your thoughts to pay attention to it. Then a voice of a man clearly talking to you snapped you out of it. 

“Waiting for the rain to stop, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you glanced at the man quickly, not wanting to give him too much attention. 

Noticing that the middle-aged man was dressed up in dirty clothes and reeked of alcohol made you already uneasy. But the look in his dazed eyes was more concerning; he eyed you up and down, and smiled at you. It was not a kind nor inviting smile. It was a predatory smile flashed at you with yellow teeth. 

“I can wait with you so you won’t be lonely.” 

You felt your heartrate speed up. There was no way that man had good intentions with the way he shifted closer to you. 

“Thanks, but there’s no need to... Your groceries should be taken to your fridge quickly before they get bad.” 

Your attempt to politely refuse his offer didn’t work. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Don’t worry, I don’t have any purchases that need immediate care,” the man grinned and moved closer once again to show the contents of his plastic bag. 

It didn’t surprise you to find the bag was filled with beer bottles. You had to come up with a new excuse. 

“What about your wife? She’s surely waiting for you already.” 

“Hm? You’re prettier than her. Not so wrinkly and not always nagging about my drinking.” 

You felt disgusted on so many levels; the man had no right to talk that way about his wife when he looked like a malformed abomination of a rat that had escaped from the sewers. Hell, no man should talk about their own wife like that, no matter the looks. 

“A pretty girl like you deserves a man like me. Young men nowadays are so feminine and sensitive,” the man smirked arrogantly, “A true man knows his own power and how to use it to his advantage.” 

Your hand slipped inside your pocket. It was not for warmth but for reaching the pepper spray. Everyone used to laugh at you for carrying that because you’d probably never have to use it. But you’d have the last laugh. 

“What are you hiding in your pockets?” the man’s eyes were directed at your hands, a deep frown settling on his face. 

“J-Just warming up my hands.” 

“Bullshit. Are you trying to call the police on me?” 

If you were afraid before, now you were definitely terrified. How could you even use the pepper spray when your hands were trembling in fear? 

“You stupid bitch. What did I even do? Women don’t appreciate compliments these days anymore!” the man shouted angrily, and instead of standing lazily like before, he turned his body wholly towards you. 

You couldn’t freeze in that moment. No way in hell were you going to let that man touch you. 

But as you were about to pull the pepper spray from your pocket, a familiar voice caught both your and the man’s attention. 

“Step away from her.” 

Your head snapped into the direction of the voice, and you noticed; Yunho stood there, firm and commanding. For the first time in your life, you saw him in a good light. The long coat he wore could have been a superhero cloak, that’s how grateful you were. 

“Who are you to command me like that?” the drunkard scoffed at Yunho. 

But as Yunho walked closer, the man seemingly realized how much taller Yunho was, how much at disadvantage the man was. 

“I’m telling you one last time to step away and leave immediately.” 

“Pfft. What are you? A policeman?” the man attempted to assert dominance and show off his fragile masculinity. 

“In fact, I am. Although I’m off-duty, I have a couple weapons with me,” Yunho said, clearly not intimidated at all, “I won’t shoot you but I can guarantee that getting tazed doesn’t feel pleasant either.” 

To emphasize his words, Yunho pulled out a taser and swung it in his hands. The other man’s defiant expression morphed into a pathetic look of fear. 

“Sorry, man. I’ll go,” the man rushed away like there was a tail between his legs. 

You looked at Yunho with admiration. Even the guilt for doubting his intentions and nature before didn’t shake your mind at that moment; you just needed desperately to show your appreciation for him. 

Still, the best you could do was look at Yunho with wide eyes and utter a few words. 

“Thank you.” 

Yunho smiled, looking almost giddy when you talked to him, “I just did my duty.” 

“Your duty as a policeman?” 

“Yes, but mostly my duty as your personal protector.” 

A little giggle left your lips at Yunho’s comment. There was a warm feeling of gratitude in your chest. Yunho had never been a bad man after all although acting quite weirdly occasionally. 

“I’m more than just grateful. You saved me from a dangerous situation.” 

Yunho’s cheeks flushed and an adorable, sheepish smile spread on his lips. Having been always suspicious of him, you hadn’t realized before how sweet he looked every time you talked to him.  

“Let me walk you home. You must be scared after meeting that creep,” Yunho extended his hand out for you. In his other hand he held an umbrella which had a Spiderman print. 

What was the worst thing that could happen if you took his hand in yours? 

You felt like the company of a man who had proven his good intentions would bring you safety on your way home. You grabbed Yunho’s large hand in yours, feeling comforted yet a little nervous. 

“So, you like Spiderman?” 

Yunho chuckled at your question. He seemed overjoyed to walk hand-in-hand with you even though it was raining cats and dogs. 

“He’s what I want to become. A hero.” 

You smiled softly and couldn’t resist the temptation to say something corny, “You’re already my hero.” 

Yunho laughed heartily and glanced at you. His eyes were twinkling, replacing the stars that couldn’t be seen that night due to the clouded sky. 

“What are you doing out this late anyways?” he inquired. 

The air felt a little colder again as your thoughts wandered to Jongho. 

“Jongho has disappeared. I’ve tried to contact him but there’s no answer,” you revealed, “I went to his house tonight in hopes of finding him there, but it’s like he’s avoiding me.” 

Something flickered in Yunho’s eyes for a split second before a thoughtful look set on his face. He squeezed your hand a little. 

“That must be rough. He’s your boyfriend after all.” 

“Well, not anymore. There was an incident that led to me breaking up with him,” you muttered. 

The man next to you nodded and spoke again, “I can help you find him. I’m a policeman, you know? We may not have enough reason to report him as missing, but I have my knowledge of finding missing people as my offer.” 

Yunho’s hand may have been warm but the smile on his face was even warmer; it comforted you. 

When the two of you eventually stood at your doorstep, Yunho’s reluctance to let go of your hand was clear. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed in concern. 

“Are you okay? The man must have scared you badly.” 

You let go of Yunho’s hand to pull the pepper spray out of your pocket. 

“You’re my favorite hero but this one will come in handy sometimes too,” you chuckled. 

Yunho smiled, “Just call me whenever you need help with anything. And I mean anything.” 

You offered your phone for Yunho to type in his number. Suddenly, he frowned. 

“Why is your home screen wallpaper a picture of you and Yeosang?” he asked, voice a few degrees colder than before. 

It was strange to see that sweet man get so worked up over a simple picture. 

“Yeosang is practically my only friend. I like to have a reminder of that now I have someone to rely on.” 

The embarrassment in your voice was clear as you were forced to explain your sad situation of friendships. At least Yunho’s expression softened. 

“I’ll be your friend from now on. Make sure to spend time with me... and change that wallpaper,” Yunho spoke. 

The next week Jongho wasn’t at the group therapy meeting. Just like the week before, he was gone, leaving you worried. But at least now you had someone who would be able to help search for him. 

The room felt so empty without him but no-one else seemed to care. 

Charlotte didn’t even question Jongho’s absence that time, just moving straight to the activities of the day. 

“Find yourself a pair,” Charlotte guided with a mysterious smile, “I won’t tell you what the activity is yet.” 

Wooyoung and San paired up immediately, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong glanced at each other in agreement. They had found their cliques, the person who they got along with the best. It was beyond your understanding though how someone as sweet as Seonghwa could like Hongjoong. 

You didn’t even have time to get up from your seat when Yunho had appeared in front of you like out of thin air. You felt a little intimidated and small while he stood over you, but the fear you used to feel around him was gone. He was just a gentle giant, the hero who had saved you from a situation that could have escalated. 

“Be my pair,” Yunho requested. 

His request was tempting but there was someone else standing a little farther away, looking at you longingly; it was Yeosang. 

“I think Yeosang wants-” 

“Please,” Yunho said, voice soft and almost vulnerable. 

You didn’t want to betray Yeosang but Yunho’s sad look tugged at your heartstrings. It didn’t take too long for you to give an apologetic look to Yeosang and a nod for Yunho. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Yeosang walk over to Mingi and pair up with him. You’d apologize to Yeosang later. 

Yunho sat down next to you, his long legs brushing against yours briefly. Now that he was sitting next to you just like the first time you met, he seemed satisfied. 

“The topic of today is relationships to other people. Discuss with your partner about the person who has the most meaning in your life right at this moment,” Charlotte revealed the task. 

That was the hardest topic for you so far. There had never been much people to start with who would have cared about you as you cared about them. It was a curse to love but to be unable to be loved. Sometimes you wished upon the stars that you could stop caring about people. However, no matter how much you cried after lost friends, the universe just brought more people to lose into your life. 

Maybe that’s why Jongho’s disappearance bothered you so much. Losing another friend was expected but the way he had completely vanished was slowly breaking you apart. You couldn’t help but blame yourself. It had been completely justified to kick him out of your apartment that day he threw the plate on Yeosang’s face; you shouldn’t feel ashamed. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

Yunho’s voice brought you back on Earth, saving you from your drowning thoughts. 

You might have lost Jongho’s friendship but you gained Yunho’s. It was just the matter of time when you’d mess up that situation as well. 

“I’m okay. I was just thinking what to talk about in this topic,” your smile was weak yet reassuring enough. 

“If it helps you, I can go first,” Yunho suggested. 

At your nod, Yunho began to talk about the person who meant the most to him. His eyes practically shined like he was passionate about the chance to finally tell you about the love of his life. 

“There’s a woman who stole my heart a couple years ago. I haven’t been able to think about anyone else after she caught my attention.” 

It was honestly adorable to hear Yunho ramble about the woman. A hint of jealousy gnawed at your insides; for someone to love you like Yunho loved the woman was a dream. 

“The way she walked out of the police station, the way she talked to the other officers, scared and needing help... It made me realize the meaning of my life isn’t to protect all the people. It’s to protect her.” 

Yunho was clearly devoted. His words were sweet at first. The way he talked about her was a clear indication of how much she had affected his life. But suddenly his words took a slightly darker turn. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy in my arms. It doesn’t matter if I have to burn her house or the whole world as long as she runs to me for safety,” Yunho spoke, his voice loving, the complete opposite of his words. 

“Wow, she’s one lucky girl,” you chuckled nervously. 

Surely Yunho must have meant it as a joke. He was a man of justice, not an arsonist. 

“She’s my lucky girl,” Yunho smiled softly at you, “So, who is the person you hold dear to your heart?” 

You still hadn’t come up with a good answer. The only friends you had in that moment were Yeosang and Yunho, but you knew neither of them well enough. Jongho had grown quite close with you, at least you liked to think so, but he was gone now. 

“I don’t really have people who are close to me,” you admitted reluctantly, feeling unsure if you should tell these kinds of things. 

“Just say anyone.” 

“Well, I think Yeosang is the closest to me right now.” 

Yunho’s encouraging smile turned into a frown. It baffled you; there was always a chance that you could be the woman Yunho loved, but he had mentioned having met her a couple years ago already. 

“Yeosang? Why him?” 

“I think he’s kind to me, and we’ve hung out a lot.” 

Your murmured explanation didn’t satisfy Yunho. It was obvious how hard he tried to control his facial expressions, to hide how upset he was. 

“Haven’t I been kind to you?” Yunho inquired. 

“Yes, you have but-”  

“Did you change your wallpaper yet?” 

“I-I forgot,” as soon as you answered, Yunho grabbed your purse and started going through the contents of it. 

Your eyes widened as he took the matter of changing your wallpaper into his own hands. He was rummaging through your little bag, and you couldn’t let that happen. A woman’s purse was a private thing, especially when that woman was slightly paranoid at the excuse of valued safety. 

“Hey! Give it back,” you reached for your purse. 

Yunho didn’t care and kept taking things out of it, letting them fall to the floor. Some makeup, a hairbrush and wallet were already in everyone’s sight. 

“Yunho, give Y/N her bag back, please,” Charlotte finally tried to stop the situation but her spineless words meant nothing to Yunho. 

You tried desperately to gather your things before anything too personal would be revealed, but Yunho just kept throwing things out. 

“What is this?” Wooyoung grabbed an object from the floor, inspecting it in his hand. 

Your face heated up at the sight of Wooyoung holding something private. Gazing at him angrily from the floor, you were about to demand him to give it back. 

“That’s a woman diaper!” Mingi exclaimed, shocked at the unbelievable, astonishing, mind-blowing sight of a menstrual pad. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. All your stuff on the floor for everyone to see and judge, and now Wooyoung and Mingi had humiliated you with their discovery. 

“No, Mingi. That is called a menstrual pad,” Charlotte spoke softly like talking to a child. 

You wished Jongho was there to knock some sense into everyone. Most likely, he wouldn’t have even done that, but you liked to believe he would have defended your honor. The honor that went down the drain like your appreciation and respect for Yunho. 

San snatched the pad from Wooyoung’s hands, clearly frustrated. With no hesitation he walked to you and kneeled down on your level. 

“Let me help you,” he said quietly and gave you the pad. 

It was just a mere hygiene product, but to you, it felt like he was giving the prettiest flower bouquet ever. In your moment of helplessness, he had wanted to help you. 

San started gathering the objects from the floor to their rightful place, your purse. His lips were pressed tightly together like he was feeling annoyed. 

“You don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” you spoke quietly, feeling exhausted because of the emotional rollercoaster. 

“I want to help,” he looked up a little to give you a gentle smile, “What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t?” 

“Apparently the kind everyone else is.” 

San chuckled at your bitter mumble. You could see he was holding back his own irritation to calm you down. 

Soon, Yeosang joined in to help you and San. You were grateful for those two; the only people in the room you respected. Seonghwa had the potential to be one of those as well, but his friendship with Hongjoong made you mentally avoid him. 

Once all your belongings were back in the purse, you turned to Yunho. It was hard to be angry at people whether you knew them well or not; if you knew someone well, you were afraid they’d leave you and if you didn’t know them well, you were afraid they’d be violent. That’s why expressing your feelings of hurt felt dangerous. 

You snatched your phone away from Yunho. Surprisingly, the wallpaper hadn’t been changed. 

“Why is the wallpaper still the same?” you were gritting your teeth as you spoke. 

“I couldn’t unlock your phone,” Yunho’s expression turned guilty, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Save it. I’m going home.” 

You had gone through that terrible moment just for Yunho to not even change your wallpaper. Sure, you should have been glad he couldn’t unlock your phone, but it felt somehow so futile. 

As you rid the bus home, you couldn’t help but think; the group therapy didn’t feel helpful or healing at all. You had found Yeosang and Jongho through it, but at what cost? One of the members was a stalker for God’s sake. 

Speaking of which, you hadn’t noticed much signs of the stalker in the near days. Would it have been naive to think that fake dating Jongho could have scared him away? Probably yes. 

You got off the bus and started making your way back to home. Usually, it was darker at that time of the day, but the seasons were changing. You wished you could change too. You wished you could put an end to your sickness and struggles, to live a normal life, so you wouldn’t have to deal with the sickos at the group therapy. 

Maybe it was time to stop going to the therapy. You’d rather live without the social assistance of the government than step inside the nightmarish room of armchairs and supposedly therapeutic talk again. 

As you arrived at your door, you reached into your purse like you did every day. A twinge of panic twitched inside your chest as you couldn’t find your keys. They were most likely just deeper inside the purse, and you’d have to look again. 

But no matter how much you searched, the keys weren’t there in your purse, jingling like they always did. There was no sight of them even when you emptied the whole purse. 

You were positive you, Yeosang, and San had picked up all the objects from the floor. All your other belongings were with you but the keys were gone. It would have been more pleasant if the damn pad had been left behind, but now you were denied the access to your own apartment. 

It was possible that someone took your keys when they were still on the floor.  

But now the most important thing was to find a place you could sleep at. You didn’t trust your neighbors and you couldn’t afford a hotel room. After some thinking you realized your only option was to beg Yeosang to let you sleep in his apartment. Such a splendid idea to have a sleepover with a man you met in a therapy group for mentally ill.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 7. Chapter 9. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto

[freyaphoria]

hi!!! i saw that you were taking requests again and wanted some yandere ones — yay!!! i know you’re super busy, but could you write about yandere san??? i honestly don’t have anything specific, so anything that comes up in your mind will be absolutely amazing. i just wanna read yandere san content from you lol since you’re a great writer!!! thank you so much <33

a/n: Hi hello!!!!! I apologize for not writing anything about Yandere San in 700 million years T_T I wrote something super short because I couldn't think of anything, if you give me a topic I'll be able to write more easily. If you don't like it, feel free to send a request again! Thank you! Love u!!!♡♡♡ (this may be the shortest thing I've ever written)

Last Taste

tw: blood, death, internal organs(?), dark fic, kissing, restriction w rope, fainting, dizziness, San kisses y/n with blood in his mouth!!!!

wc: 490

taglist: @aim-blossom @bambisd0ll @oddracha @peqchplvto

"Did I do well?" San was walking towards you, showing you drops of blood falling from his hand to the ground and pieces of flesh, while holding an internal organ of your boyfriend, Yeosang, which you couldn't identify. The forest was cold, desolate, and dark; there was no one here except him, the body of your boyfriend who died a few minutes ago, and you, tied to a tree.

"Won't you praise me? I saved you from him." You couldn't speak. If San hadn't tied you to the tree, you would have fallen to the ground already. Your head was spinning, and everything felt like a dream; this couldn't be real. The only word that came out of your mouth was a small "why?"

San came right up to you, bent down to your eye level, and held out what was in his hand. "I'll eliminate everything that prevents us from living together." As he squeezed what was in his hand, more blood and tissue fragments fell to the ground, making a nauseating sound. "Don't you want to taste your ex-boyfriend?" You didn't know what he was talking about. He was just talking, but his words weren't reaching you.

You looked at your boyfriend lying on the ground, his limbs twisted in a disturbing way. If this wasn't a dream and you were really living this, you'd lose your mind. "You've been lovers for years, why don't you say goodbye to him one last time?" He brought the remaining tissues in his hand closer to you, but you immediately pulled your head back. If you looked at the thing in his hand any longer, you could faint, and the smell of blood continued to make you dizzy. All your muscles were aching from shaking with fear, and the tears that hadn't yet flowed due to the shock you were experiencing were starting to flow down your cheeks.

San smeared what was in his hand on his own mouth, and his lips were covered in your lover's blood. He approached you and joined his lips with yours before you could understand what he was trying to do. As the metallic, disgusting taste flowed from your tongue to your throat, San held your head from both sides of your cheeks, preventing you from pulling back, and spread all the blood on his lips into your mouth. With the shock, all your blood drained, and your eyes darkened. You stopped shaking and all your muscles relaxed, feeling like you were being pulled into the ground. As you drifted off into consciousness, San separated his lips from yours. The last thing you heard before you blacked out and woke up in San’s house was the sound of San digging the ground with a shovel.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝓢𝓸𝓯𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻: 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓽

Content Includes: Wolf!San x fem!reader, overstimulation, post-rut San, passionate and needy sex, ROUGH SEX, praise (SO MUCH OF IT!), kissing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (don't do it!), San calls reader 'princess', dirty talk, primal play, size kink, aftercare

Word Count: 1.9 K

You inhaled a long drag of your cigarette as you fidgeted aimlessly on the porch, staring out into the dark abyss of woodland and shrubbery on this lonely night. 

He always came back, that was one of the many things you could rely on with San. 

‘Come on…where are you?’ 

You whispered to yourself with bated breath as you finished the last of your cigarette before stamping it out on the ground. 

‘Right here, princess’ 

A squeal of fright filled the air as San’s murky shadow appeared from behind you, muffling your squeals as he buried your face in the warmth of his chest. 

‘Shhh, shhh sorry baby, I didn’t meant to scare you’ 

There was an air of playfulness to his voice as he stroked your hair, pressing little kisses against your temple and shielding you from the crispness of the air. 

‘Don’t do that! You could have been a serial killer!’ 

You swatted playfully at his chest and pushed him lightly, frustration and anxiety evident in your eyes as your mind adjusted to the man in front of you. 

‘Mmm’ He chuckled as he began to rub circles into your hips, smirking mischievously at your reaction. 

‘Not while I’m here to protect and love you’ 

The soft touch of San’s lips to your forehead contrasted heavily against his hurried footsteps and the grip on his fingers on your clothed arse as he pushed you gently against the door. 

‘I’m just a lonesome wolf who missed his sweet princess while I was gone’. 

His voice was slightly whiney as he buried his head in your neck, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck and his voice rumbled against your skin. 

‘You don’t want to rest first?’ You bargained, trying to remain logical as your werewolf boyfriend smothered himself against you, attempting to suppress the desire you were already feeling. 

‘Nope…not tired’ 

The latch of the door unlocked and a clamber of hurried limbs and uncoordinated footwork wound up with your back on the carpet, San’s warm and toned body pressing you into the floor. 

Heavy pants and sudden anticipation filled the room as you stared up at San, his loving but hungry gaze staring back at yours. 

San’s nude torso and back were covered with a sheen of exertion, his black hair messy and hanging in his eyes, fresh jeans now ripped and the veins in his arms and neck flexed and taut. 

The limbal rings around his eyes were of an amber hue and now you knew why he was so needy, his body had shifted back to being human…his mind…not so much. 

‘Are you hungry?’

The question was asked out of kindness for San’s wellbeing but then San raised his eyebrow and shifted his hips against yours suggestively. 

Yeah, you definitely walked your way into that one…or ran. 

‘Everytime I’m with you princess’. 

San leaned down to press his lips against yours. 

And he was hungry, his kisses were desperate and dominant as he pried his tongue into your mouth, teeth nipping into your bottom lip, his hands supporting himself as he pressed his weight against yours. 

‘I want to hear you scream for me tonight princess’ 

He spoke as he made his way down your neck, nipping and biting as his wolf senses took over and eagerly wanted to mark you, to claim his stake, have you wet and pliant under his fingers and tongue. 

‘Take you apart piece by piece, have you cum for me and then I’ll do it over and over again’. 

‘Ahhh!’ You screamed out in surprise as San ripped your shirt apart with his bare hands, his eyes darkening in lust more when he saw your exposed chest, sans bra. 

Teeth and tongue were immediately on your nipple as he pressed his face against your sternum, inhaling your scent and the sound of him growling against your skin sent shivers down your spine. 

Random praises and compliments were breathed into your skin as San trailed down your body, leaving hickeys and love bites you were sure to wear as a token of San for a few days. 

‘I love you’, ‘you’re so beautiful’, ‘fuck i can’t wait to have my cock inside of you’. 

San eagerly and with rushed hands removed your tights and chucked them beside you, taking the time to stare at your flushed cheeks, open thighs, hard nipples and staring up at him with absolute adoration. 

‘I’m so happy you’re mine, my special princess’ 

He leaned back up to press one last passionate kiss to your mouth, placing a few pecks before pulling away to trail back down your body before settling his face against your crotch. 

Your body jumped as San inhaled deeply as he nuzzled his nose over your clothed mound, his lashes fluttering as he let out a moan. 

‘You smell amazing, I want to bury my face in your cunt and lick you clean’. 

He felt your fingers brush his hair back and push his head eagerly back down, lifting your hips up slightly in a sign of neediness for him to continue. 

‘Then do it- I’m yours to take’. 

‘Fuck princess, don’t get me started’

The comment boosted his need for you even further and you watched as he pulled your underwear down your legs, removing it around each ankle and leaving it on the floor. 

There was no time to prepare before San had gripped your thighs and eagerly dived in, his tongue swiping through your folds and laving over your clit. 

‘Your sweet cunt always tastes the best after a rut, it’s like it’s been missing me while I’ve gone’ 

He murmured into your crotch as he focused on your clit, licking, sucking and nibbling the swollen bud with his teeth and tongue as his primal senses took over and his entire focus was making you squirm under his touch. 

San’s absence had left your body all sensitive and touch-starved and much to your chagrin- it wasn’t long before you were almost cumming from San’s ravenous attention on your clit alone. 

‘Baby…I’m-Mmmmmm!’ 

Your hips kicked back and your thighs spasmed as your orgasm hit you quickly, back arching and hands gripping San’s hair. 

‘Mmmm…good girl…my good princess…not done though…want more’ 

His moans and hums of pleasure vibrated through your core as he moved to slide your cum and slick on his tongue, using it as wetness so he could lick your clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling around the sides and then grazing the underside, sucking it in between his teeth and repeating over and over again. 

‘San..fuck! So close…mmm, almost there!’ 

You could feel your cunt clench around nothing as you climaxed again, San’s strong hands preventing your legs from closing as his movements slowed down, eventually stopping. 

‘Delicious…so fucking delicious’ 

He propped himself up and stared at you with glazed eyes and your slick making his lips raw, wet and shiney. 

All logic had left San’s brain and he was consumed with the thoughts of ruining his sweet princess over and over again, having you spread out underneath him, cock inside of you, hearing you pant and whine until your voice gave out. 

‘The bed San…’ 

Clumsy arms reached out for San’s support as you tried to sit up, knowing full well that he would fuck you on the carpet if he could. 

‘Take me to bed…fuck me there’. 

No words were spoken as San hauled you up off the floor and carried you over his shoulder, his strength and sheer power causing you to burn even more for his touch. 

Your torn shirt and San’s jeans and briefs were discarded on the floor and you quickly gathered yourself on your bed, your head on a pillow and another stuffed under your hips. 

‘Look at you, getting ready for me to fuck you open and raw, such a filthy princess…MY filthy princess’ 

He pumped his cock a few times, the muscles in his chest and forearms flexing with every twist and pull. 

‘Princess has been missing you Sannie, am all ready for you baby’. 

San kneeled in front of you as he pressed your knees to your chest, folding you into a mating press before pushing his cock into you, roughly, eagerly and bottoming out in one slide. 

‘Aww, so wet, tight and perfect for me’ 

He kissed you again, radiating his love and passion for you through his lips and gaze. 

You could taste yourself in his kiss and your body trembled under the sudden intrusion, the angle filling you whole and your body and cunt already feeling exposed like a live wire. 

‘Fuck you’re so hard San, can feel you deep’. 

A deep moan filled the air as San pulled out,all the way to the tip before thrusting back in with a hard snap of his hips. 

There was no talking for awhile, just San’s grunts and groans mixing with your whines and whimpers as he fucked you roughly but with passion. 

Even with San’s wolf influence murking his presence, you could still feel the overwhelming love he had for you. 

His piercing gaze showed his love, his kisses and little nips to your mouth were filled with love, the snap of his hips and the way his body covered yours, his aura was filled with the utmost love and care he had for you. 

And he did love you, more than you know, more than he could confess and feeling you underneath him and clutching him against you, how needy and pliant you were while he fucked you…

The bubble in his heart burst and his final defence was blown, leaving him to express unwavering affection for you as he was close to chasing his release. 

‘My special princess, you’re always taking care of me, looking after me…I miss you so bad when I’m away baby…I- hah! W-want to protect you, keep you-mmm! keep you safe, fill you over and over again until your pretty cunt is dripping with me…’

San released inside of you with a husky groan and a stuttering of his hips, moving his hands from your knees to clutch at the headboard, burying himself as far as he could inside of you. 

‘Baby…Sannie..please, please..so close!’

Your body was shaking with electric jolts and you could feel your body tremble around him, shaking with overstimulation and the need for release, your body close to giving out but needing more to reach your peak. 

‘I got you princess, let me help you cum’ 

He gently grabbed your right hand, pressing a few kisses to your knuckles before placing it over your mound. 

You roughly circled your clit with hasty fingers, San eyeing you intently as he slowly grinded into your g-spot, the added stimulation rapidly helping you to your peak. 

‘I can feel you clenching around me princess, you’re so close aren’t you baby?’ 

San hummed those words into your ear as he pressed kisses against the side of your face, knowing the praise is what you needed. 

‘Be a good girl for me mmmh? Show me how pretty your face is when you cum okay? Want to see my pretty princess cum for me’

And it worked, your body arched and muscles spasming as you came with a whimper, your head buried in San’s shoulder. 

Both your breathing quieted down as the room begin to spin less and normalise, your fingers softly running down San’s sweat-covered back. 

‘Rest for awhile baby, I’m not finished with my special princess yet’. 

Author Note: Happy Halloween and this was my first time writing werewolf smut because that performance video absolutely ruined me and I just couldn't help myself.

I was team vampire!San but after that performance cover...team were!wolf San all the way now!!

Taglist: @hipster-shiz @creativechaoticloner @cherry-0420 @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @abby-grace @daddysspecialdollyworld @silentreadersthings @ddeonghwassimp @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @akimkim @smilefordongil @0325tiny

[mint-yooxgi]

{14} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa near the end, Slight Hongjoong)

Words: 16,125

Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and PTSD (not OC), mentions of blood, weapons. Smut: Oral (m. rec.), subby!Hwa, minor knife play and begging, I think that's it. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I'm glad I split this into two parts. I knew it was going to be long! And boy oh boy, who's excited for the next chapter? I'm excited for the next chapter! iykyk ;)) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen

There’s an eager spring to your step as Yeosang leads you over to a side door, of which he’s just made materialize in front of your eyes. Not even the grumbling of the other seven males behind you can bring down your mood, excitement coursing through your veins as he opens the door, holding it open for you to step through in the next second.

“I’m still not used to you all being able to do that.” You comment, smiling at Yeosang in thanks as you step into the new room.

It’s a bit dark, so you can’t quite see much, but you can feel them all stepping in behind you.

“It’s great for hiding things in plain sight.” San comments, attempting to step in beside you, only for Yeosang to take his place in an instant.

“I can imagine- holy shit!” The moment the lights come on, you’re greeted by a room full of bows and arrows of various shapes and sizes.

Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you take in the grand space before you. It’s a simple room in all aspects, square in design with mounts and racks to hold all of the various weapons that you can just tell all belong to Yeosang. Not that you would doubt that for even a minute.

Softly, you hear the sound of the door shutting behind you.

Pure excitement thrums through your veins, your body practically vibrating as you take in the space around you. Still, you keep your distance, not wanting to touch anything and risk damaging or breaking any of the various weapons lining the room. The urge to touch everything in sight is quite strong, and you cannot help the way your fingers twitch, almost subconsciously, at your sides.

“Go ahead, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles gently at you, a small nod to his head. “Don’t hold back.”

You do not need to be told twice.

Almost as soon as the words have left his mouth, you’re zipping over to the wall in front of you and inspecting all the different styles of bows. There’s a giddiness to your movements as you look over some more traditional, simplistic bows made of various materials such as metal and wood, to more intricately designed ones. Each weapon varies in colour, some curving in a singular arch, while others curve like stereotypical ‘m’ shaped birds in children’s drawings. Even the strings vary in colour, some being a pure white, while others are a dark red.

One bow in particular catches your eyes, and before you realize what you’re doing, you reach out to it. However, before you can so much as lay a single finger on the intricate carvings, you catch yourself.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you retract your hand.

A low chuckle sounds right behind you.

“It’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang steps up to you, pressing himself against your back so that he can lean into you. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as his hands settle against your waist. “What’s mine is yours.”

A shiver caresses your spine, and you can practically feel him smirk against the skin of your neck.

“I just don’t want to damage anything,” you mutter, still unsure of if you should reach out and touch the gorgeous bow resting before you.

“Believe us, Darling,” Jongho comments, and you can just hear the affectionate smile that he wears in his voice as he speaks. “You don’t have to worry about damaging anything. Our weapons are made with the strongest materials available to us. You couldn’t put a scratch on them, even if you tried.”

“Not to mention the magic we imbue them with for extra protection,” Yunho hums.

Understanding flashes across your features, nodding your head almost subconsciously. Still, your eyes briefly dart over to Yeosang one last time, who’s head rests just beside your own. As soon as you see him smile and nod, you take that intricately carved bow into your hands.

Vines appear to wrap themselves around the shaft of the bow, leaves branching out in intricate designs over the wood. The string is a solid white, while the colour of the bow itself is an almost faded grey, appearing a misty green in the light. It’s not very heavy by any means, but just from merely looking at the bow, you can tell that it’s strong.

Carefully, your fingers trace over the carvings, nothing but pure wonder shining in your eyes. “Did you carve this yourself?”

You feel Yeosang nod against your shoulder, and your lips part in awe as a low gasp escapes you.

“Wow.”

“We make all of our own weapons, My Divine.” Seonghwa makes sure to keep his tone soft as he informs you of this, not wanting to disturb the moment that’s settled around you all. “Have been since the beginning.”

“That’s incredible.” You breathe out, turning to face the other seven males with that bow still in your hands. “You’re all incredible!”

The way they all smile shyly in response says it all.

“Seriously, is there anything you all can’t do?” You turn your attention back to the bow in your hands, heart thundering as you stroke a hand down the shaft of the bow.

Mingi’s lips part in response, but at the quick jab of San’s elbow to his ribs, he’s closing it.

You quirk a brow in amusement, not needing to be able to read his mind to know he was about to remind you all that he can’t cook once again.

Sparing another glance around the room, your eyes catch on another intricately carved bow. Another gasp is escaping your lips as you waddle over to it excitedly, noticing how the two tips seem to be shaped like serpents which appear to intertwine intricately with one another to make the body of the bow.

“Literally, these are so beautiful.” You say, eyes scanning over every detail that you can.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, My Dear,” Yeosang chuckles, his one hand settling onto the small of your back as you walk around the room.

“This is one of the best days of my life,” you reply honestly, walking over to the wall of arrows across from you.

In no time at all, Yeosang launches into an explanation of all the different types of arrows he uses. The majority, he’s made himself, while others have been a collaboration between him and his brothers. Wooyoung more than happily chimes in when the different poison arrows are mentioned, the two of them detailing how each poison is administered depending on the arrow. Some are injected through the shaft, while other arrows are coated in the poison which gets administered through point of contact.

The whole time, you listen intently. Your eyes never lose that shine of wonder, lips pulling upwards in a radiant smile as they all observe you taking this all in. The fact that you appear so interested, and ecstatic to learn about all of this is making their hearts sing, and their souls come alight.

Finally, they can share this with you, too.

“So,” you turn back to Yeosang after he’s finished describing how his shattering arrows work. “Which one is your favourite?”

The way his eyes light up even further at your inquiry says it all.

“Design wise,” immediately, he’s pointing at the bow carved to resemble those two intertwined snakes. “Functionality, though, is a different story.”

Leading you back over to the main wall that you had grabbed the intricately carved bow with the vines from, he’s quick to grab another off of a hook. It’s quite simplistic in design, smooth black edges greeting your vision. The bow appears to be made out of some sort of thin metal, the edges sharp in the light of the room.

Ever so carefully, Yeosang trades the bow in your hand which you have yet to let go of with this new one. He’s quick to place the wooden one back on the wall as you marvel at how light this new bow is, holding it in the air slightly beside your head.

“The edges can cut through steel.” He comments casually.

“More like anything that you can imagine.” San chuckles, crossing his arms lightly.

Anticipation claws at his chest. Really, anticipation claws at all of their chests. If this is how you’re reacting to Yeosang’s weapons, then they each cannot wait for you to see their own collections. The wonder and awe alone is enough to satiate their original burning jealousy that had arisen at the fact that it was Yeosang who managed to both get you to use his weapon with him first, as well as show you his collection.

“What’s it made out of?” You ask, nothing but curiosity to your tone as you inspect the bow. You know better than to run your fingers along the sharp edges, but that does not stop you from turning it over slightly in your hands while gripping the handle.

“It’s a special kind of metal found only in our realm.” Mingi tells you. “Most of our weapons are made out of it, since it’s the lightest material we have, while also being the most durable.”

“So, it’s like vibranium from the marvel universe?” You quirk a brow at all of them, somewhat knowingly.

“You could say that.” Seonghwa chuckles, nodding his head lightly in response to your words.

“We call it Sage Metal,” Hongjoong says. “It’s the only thing strong enough to cut itself.”

“Wow,” you repeat your awe filled exhalation from earlier. “Can it be worked like any other metal, or is there a special process you have to use while forging it?”

“It can be worked like any other metal.” Seonghwa confirms, a sort of pride shining in his eyes as he watches you with a smile. “It’s got an insanely high boiling point though, so San and Mingi have the easiest time out of all of us working with it.”

At this, your brow quirks.

“We each have materials we work best with.” Mingi shrugs. “Just like we have preferred weapons we like to use.”

“That’s really cool!” You say, handing Yeosang back his bow.

“You should have seen the amount of times our workshops caught fire in the early days.” San jokes, the slightest of upturns to the corner of his lips. “Good thing we’re quick learners.”

“Yeah, that, and you didn’t want to singe all of your hair off again.” Wooyoung laughs, leading to him soon being chased around the small space by the elder male.

You laugh, “I take it that that happened more than once?”

“To all of us.” Seonghwa confirms, voice suddenly a bit strained as he seems to be recalling the memories right this very instant. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Multiple times.”

A snort of laughter escapes you this time, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.

Amused quirks of their brows greet you in response, and you find yourself waving your free hand in front of yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny to imagine. I like knowing you guys weren’t always this composed.”

This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to snort out a laugh, “Angel, when have you ever known us to be composed around you?”

You take a moment to consider his words, even going so far as to lift a finger in protest as your lips part. Then, you’re nodding, eyebrows raising in agreement, “A good point.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jongho rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as a huff escapes him.

You simply quirk a brow in amusement at him, your one hand coming up to rub almost teasingly at the side of your neck where he bit you all those weeks ago.

Subtly, red begins to creep up his neck.

“Right, well,” he clears his throat, “Shall we move on to the next room?”

A few side-eyed looks are sent the youngest’s way in response, and you swear you see both Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s eyes flash black for the briefest of moments. However, before you can think too much on it, San is practically grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Yeosang. All too eagerly, the younger male leads you back over to the door you entered into the room from. A second later, he’s opening it and guiding you through.

Your eyes immediately light up at seeing all of the different spears, tridents, and javelins lining the walls, amongst other pole based weapons. Again, they’re all made form a range of materials in a variety of colours, and each design manages to take your breath away.

“Go wild,” San leans in to whisper in your ear, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.

A large, giddy smile pulls onto your lips as you immediately race over to the one wall. There’s a specific spear that’s caught your eye, and the closer you get to the tip, the more detail work you can see carved into it. There seems to be a pattern of sorts etched into the metal, unfamiliar to you with all its swirls and shapes, but beautiful nonetheless.

The entire room is silent as you stand there, observing the intricate detailing of the spear’s tip. Each male watches you fondly, enjoying this moment for as long as they possibly can. Seeing your wonder and marvel at all of the designs makes their hearts race, and knowing that you’re enjoying yourself currently means the world to each and every single one of them.

Finally, you begin to move around the room, San right beside you the whole time.

“I feel like I’m in an art museum or something.” You admit lowly, voice airy and full of awe.

“Well, designing and forging weapons is simply another form of art.” Yunho nods his agreement.

“And you’ve all been making these your whole lives?” You turn to glance at the others from over your shoulder.

Small nods of confirmation greet you in response, subtle smiles pulling at all of their features.

“It’s why we take such great lengths to store them.” Yeosang adds. “Only we can access these rooms, for they are intricately linked, and can only be entered through this one door.”

Nothing but awe shines in your eyes as your lips part. A breathless ‘wow’ escapes you once more, turning lightly in a circle as you take in the whole room.

“Then, there are eight rooms?” You turn back to face them.

“Eight main ones, yes.” San says. “We have many storage rooms, and way too many weapons we no longer use.”

“That’s not to mention each of our own forges which are connected to our storehouses.” Seonghwa comments casually, leaning against the wall right beside the door.

“So, the rooms are almost like a labyrinth of sorts?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry.

“You could say that.” Hongjoong chuckles. “It’s more of individual blocks of rooms floating in limbo within our domain until we summon the rooms to this door.”

“Ah,” you nod slowly in understanding. “I see.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “That’s still really cool.”

Little do you see the small, bashful smiles that tug at their features as you look away for the moment.

Turning back to face the tridents, you take in the various styles lining the wall. Some are placed vertically, while others sit horizontally, displaying the many pikes on each.

Two in particular - one silver with five prongs, and one gold with three prongs - catch your eye. Both are shiny, appearing as if they might be the newest to his collection as they are displayed side by side on a slight angle. It’s as if he purposely hung them like this; to emphasize the set they seem to make together. They’re quite familiar, and as you get closer, you realize why.

The silver one is a perfect replica of Queen Atlanna’s trident from the Aquaman film, while the gold is a perfect replica of Arthur’s own.

The way San is staring at you, his eyes shining with nothing but affection with just a hint of nervousness, says it all.

You smile, grabbing his hand in your own. Softly, you squeeze, warmth flooding your chest as you understand exactly what his intentions are. He made these for you, and him. He means for the two of you to use these together. The set never meant to be separated, or be without the other in battle.

For a brief moment, you allow him passed your void.

My Aquaman. You hum, squeezing his hand once more. Thank you.

My Queen, He mirrors your smile, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as he squeezes your hand back. I’m just glad you like them.

Like them? You reply, rather eagerly. Sannie, I love them.

The soft giggle he lets out fills the room, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the weight of his happiness. I’m glad.

Softly, you wiggle your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. Not even a moment later, you’re turning back to the wall of tridents, lifting your gaze to take in the ones near the top of the wall. That’s when another, near the corner of the room, catches your attention.

A gasp escapes you. “No way.”

Rushing over to the trident, you end up half dragging, half pulling San along with you. You’ve closed your void to him now, so he cannot get a sense of what it truly is that’s caught your attention. That is, until you’re speaking once more.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you have an exact replica of Finnick’s trident from Catching Fire?” You quirk a brow, glancing at him briefly.

San grins, lifting said object off of the wall. “I figured it would be a nice surprise.”

“You seem to be full of nice surprises today, Pretty Boy.” You grin right back, watching as he handles that trident carefully before you.

“So, that’s what you ran off to make that one day,” Jongho mumbles, understanding painting his features. “I was wondering why you were asking me all those questions about her favourite book series.”

“I do love The Hunger Games.” You nod, eyes widening in excitement as San hands you the trident. “Finnick is my favourite character.” Then, a moment’s pause as you look over the weapon in your hands. “Him and Annie deserved better.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nodding solemnly along with your words.

“I thought it was that set he made that day,” Hongjoong motions back to the Aquaman tridents proudly on display.

“I had to start with something easier,” San replies, sparing a look at all of his brothers.

“You count this design as easy?” You voice, incredulously, as the fingers of your one hand come up to trace the pole gently.

San only chuckles in response, offering you a small shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t blame him.” Mingi hums, glancing from Jongho to Seonghwa. “There seems to be a recurring theme of making replicas of weapons belonging to your favourite characters and series, Starlight.”

“Speaking from experience, Min?” You place the trident back in its spot, moving over to where the others are standing after having your fill of looking around.

“You’ll see.” He chuckles, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

Only, the youngest placing his hand onto the small of your back beats him to it. You nearly shiver from the contact, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into your bare skin. 

That’s when you remember: you’re still only in your sport’s bra for the moment.

A glare is sent Jongho’s way, not just from Mingi, but from San as well. Your time in his weapon’s hold was far too short for his liking, but at least you enjoyed yourself. A bonus? You’re still beaming as Jongho leads you back through the door.

The moment you step through the threshold to be surrounded by axes of every size, shape, and colour, your lips part in a gasp, “Oh my.”

On one wall, throwing axes and hatchets are displayed. The opposite, everything ranging from a typical fireman’s axe, to the most intricately designed single bladed axes reside. On the final wall, double bladed axes reside, one sticking out more than the rest.

Your eyes widen, practically running out of Jongho’s hold as you see the axe resting in the centre display. It’s dual blades are familiar to you, the metal smooth before giving way to two sets of three triangles hollowed out on either side of the shaft. There, detailed rune work resides, and you find you can only place your hand over your heart in attempts to quell its beating.

“I see what you mean.” You swallow thickly, nearly jumping as you feel Jongho’s hand return to the small of your back.

“It’s quite effective in battle,” Jongho mentions casually, leading you over to the wall of hatches to show you the two other small axes that Gimli has in his arsenal that he’s also taken the liberty to make.

“You’ve already used Gimli’s axe in battle?” There’s nothing but wonder in your voice as you look at him, your whole body practically vibrating in excitement.

“Not yet, technically.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But the simulations have all run smoothly.”

You turn back to the weapons before you, nothing but wonder in your eyes, “Wow.”

You’re starting to notice a slight pattern to the rooms now. All of them seem to be about the same size, with their weapons all lining the walls. Some of them even have a few extra racks to hold certain designs, but for the most part, the main wall houses what you assume to be the favourites, while the other side walls hold the smaller designs. They’re all organized quite well, and from the gleam you can see coming from each polished weapon, you can tell that they are all well taken care of, and maintained regularly.

Something they seem to have in common for all of the things that they care for - a great sense of both responsibility, and attention to detail when looking after them.

“Come, there’s another one I want to show you.” Jongho gently guides you to the opposite wall.

Sticking out his hand, an axe comes flying off of the wall from higher up. It spins in the air as it travels the short distance to his hand, the dark silver of the single edged blade glinting in the light. There seems to be a smaller blade protruding from the opposite side of the handle, acting as a continuation of the main blade on the other side.

The instant it touches Jongho’s hand, your eyes are widening as another gasp escapes you. The veins of gold carved into the blade stand out starkly against the darkness of the silver. The wooden handle is slightly curved, the blade itself covering almost half of the length of the wood.

“No way you made Kratos’ Leviathan Axe.” Your voice holds nothing but awed disbelief as you look over every inch of that axe Jongho holds out for you. “And you can summon it to your hands like he can in the game?”

“We can summon all of our weapons to our hands like that, My Love.” Hongjoong chuckles, eyebrows raising in amusement as he sees the glare Jongho sends him for stealing his thunder.

“How does it work?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room.

“Usually just requires a drop of our blood and a binding spell.” Seonghwa explains.

“So, that’s how you can make your weapons appear out of thin air?” You ask, wonderstruck. “Not cause you’re doing something like reaching through realms, or into a pocket of space?”

Yunho chuckles, along with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi.

“No, Petal,” he grins fondly at your curious expression. “Unfortunately we cannot do that, but it is how we are able to summon our weapons to us instantly.”

“Does it work on other things, too?” You inquire, nearly dropping the axe in your excitement as Jongho hands it to you.

“It works on anything we bind ourselves to in that way.” Mingi confirms.

“So, if you wanted to summon each other?” You tilt your head slightly as you finally get a good grip on the handle of the axe. “It’d be different than your transportation thingy?”

“Slightly.” Hongjoong confirms. “Think of it as a mere aspect of our teleportation.”

“But still different than a proper summoning spell.” Yeosang adds.

You nod, spinning that axe slowly in your hands as you look over the detail work.

“Would it work in battle?” You glance upwards. “If you ever needed to save each other from a killing blow? Or if one of you needed back up?”

“Normally, we’d just use our teleportation for that.” Mingi shrugs, leaning against an open part of the wall.

“That’s fair,” you hum, eyes shifting their focus back to the axe in your hands.

Where the gems would normally reside, you’ve noticed two other small jewels in their place. One is an opal, and the other is your own birthstone. A fact of which makes you smile, for you know both are meant to represent you and Jongho.

“With this summoning thing, is it automatic if you think of the item?” You hand Jongho the axe back, not wanting to risk damaging it right now as your curiosity is getting the better of you.

“It’s practically second nature to us now.” Wooyoung confirms with a nod. “The closer the object, the easier it is to summon it.”

“That makes sense.” You nod, eyes catching on another intricately carved axe for the moment. “Oh!”

The blade is hollowed in some areas, giving a sort of skeleton design to the metal. It’s intricately carved, the design looking more for style than functionality. However, you know that it’s more than likely made out of that Sage Metal that they told you about earlier. The axe is more than durable, and certainly functional.

“This is beautiful,” you breathe, tracing the spaces in the metal lightly with your index finger. Of course, you make sure not to touch the edges of the metal, not wanting to cut yourself on accident. Who knows how they would react to that.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Jongho whispers lowly into your ear as he steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.

A snort of laughter escapes you, lips parting in disbelief.

“Oh, Baby Bear,” you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. “Please don’t say such cringy things to me. You’re more suave than that.”

You don’t have to look at him to see the giant pout Jongho now wears on his features, only deepened by the laughter of his brothers.

“Oh, can it.” He turns to them, a frown on his features. “You were all thinking it, too.”

Again, you shake your head, lovingly this time. “What am I going to do with all of you?”

Wooyoung slides right up to your side, pulling you out of Jongho’s embrace and into his own. Carefully, he begins leading you back to the door.

“Love us unconditionally for all eternity?” There’s a hint of hope in his eyes, swirling within that all too familiar admiration and adoration you’ve become so used to from him. 

From all of them.

You hum, pretending to think about it for a moment. You stop just before the closed door, sparing a glance around at all of them briefly.

You smile lovingly, “That can be arranged.”

Low hums of content greet your ears as you reach forward to open the door. You do not need to look at them to know that they are gazing at you with nothing but a tender fondness in their eyes right now. You can feel it surrounding you as you step through the door, flooding your veins and comforting you right down to your very core.

Their unspoken response rings loud and clear through your mind, despite your void still being up. There is no doubt in your mind that they will do the same: love you unconditionally for all eternity. They’ve already proven, in more ways than one, that they do.

The moment you refocus in on the room surrounding you, your eyes catch on bottles upon bottles lining the shelves built into every free inch of the walls of this room. Various colourful liquids reside inside, some even appearing to glow with how vibrantly they shine beneath the lights. Small vials rest beside them, and you think you know what rests inside those.

Understanding flashes across your features and you turn to Wooyoung who practically shakes in excitement beside you.

“So, which one is the deadliest?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.

A giddy smile stretches across his features, which then slowly morphs into a sly smirk, “No hesitation, huh, Angel?”

“I’m curious,” You shrug, nonchalantly.

He hums, “It’s just over here.”

Leading you over to a wall with the darkest liquids residing on the shelves, Wooyoung lifts his free hand. Instantly, a bottle of the blackest void comes rushing to his fingers, thick in texture and hardly sloshing around inside its container. Faintly, you swear you can hear hissing coming from his hand.

“There is no toxin more deadly than my own creations.” He tells you. “This one, though, is the worst.”

“Are you immune?” You glance up at him, a curious glint in your eyes.

“I’m immune to every poison you can imagine, and then some.” He hums, that grin still tugging at his features as he hands you the bottle of that thick black liquid. “But I always have antidotes close at hand.”

He motions around him to the small vials resting beside the bottles.

“We’re not as immune as he is to some of his creations.” Jongho grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But most of them, you are?” You spare a glance at the rest of them standing over by the door.

“That would be correct, My Love.” Hongjoong nods. “His most deadly, he’s made sure we’re immune to.”

“It’s considerate, considering the amount of times he’s used us as guinea pigs for new concoctions.” San grumbles, narrowing his eyes pointedly at Wooyoung.

You turn your head back to the aforementioned male who seemingly shrinks slightly in his spot.

“You guys volunteer.” He mumbles.

“Yeah,” Yunho rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s cause we never actually know what we’re signing up for.”

“It’s not my fault you all have different side effects than what I intend sometimes!” Wooyoung counters, a large pout pulling at his features. “It’s not like it’s intentional.”

“Sometimes, I feel like it is.” Yeosang states, rather pointedly.

“I don’t know,” you hum. “Isn’t the point of vaccines to inject some of the original virus or disease into your body so you know how to fight off the living cells, were they to enter your system?”

“See. At least My Angel understands my methods!” Wooyoung perks back up, tightening the hold of his one arm that rests around your waist. “There’s a whole process! You can’t just be immune. It’s not in your blood!”

“And it’s in yours?” San’s brow quirks knowingly.

“Actually, yes. It is.” Wooyoung states, rather proudly. “Most of my poisons contain some aspect of my blood in them, whether diluted or pure. That’s why they can be so toxic.”

“That’s really cool!” You chime in, having way too much fun watching the thick liquid slide around in the bottle every time you tip it upside down.

“So, there!” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out playfully at his brothers.

“Are there any kinds of toxins you’ve made that have a different effect than just poisoning the victim?” You turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “You know, like paralysis, or something?”

“Do I ever!” Wooyoung practically bounces on his feet as he leads you to the opposite wall. “This one-“ he points to a bright pink liquid, “is similar to a sleeping drought, but too much will cause the heart to stop for any living thing.”

You nod, staring intently at the bottle in front of you.

“This one-“ he points to an almost transparent green liquid, “causes your muscles to seize and inflicts unbearable pain throughout the body. Great for immobilizing people, but not quite paralysis in it’s literal sense.”

“Oh, wow.” You observe said liquid carefully.

“I also have certain tonics that effect emotions, a person’s state of mind or being, as well as ones that can essentially put people into either a comatose state, or loosen their tongue if we need a ‘physical’ way to gather information for assassinations.” He explains.

“So, you have truth telling serums?” Your brow quirks, the corner of your lips twitching upwards.

“I have any and every type of tonic you can think of.” Wooyoung nods, quite proudly at that.

You nod, eyes never leaving that shelf in front of you.

“So, then,” you begin. “Which is a stronger aphrodisiac? Your blood, or one of your tonics?”

The sound of shattering glass sounds behind you, and you turn to see Seonghwa and Mingi both cursing to themselves. Bottles, or what’s left of them, lay broken at their feet, the sound of hissing greeting your ears as liquid seeps over the ground.

“Careful with those,” Wooyoung waves his hand, cleaning the mess in an instant. “Some mixtures are deadly, even to us, if cross contaminated with each other.”

“We’ll just make sure to knock into the non-fragile glass bottles, next time.” Seonghwa grumbles, wiping off the front of his shirt rather harshly.

“Glass bottles are the most effective containers for acidic poisons, especially if reinforced by magic.” Wooyoung states, matter of factly.

“But they can still shatter on impact with the floor.” Jongho quirks a brow, matter of factly.

“You win some, you lose some.” Wooyoung shrugs, before turning his attention back to you for the moment. “To answer your question, Angel, it would be this one right here.” A bottle with a liquid as clear as day is instantly in his one hand. “This is the strongest aphrodisiac we own, besides our blood.”

“Oh?” Your lips twitch upwards in the corner, brow quirking. “So, they’re on par with one another, then?”

“Not quite,” Wooyoung’s eyes begin to swirl with that all too familiar darkness. “This is just a little stronger, since it’s undiluted in that sense.”

You hum, “Interesting.”

“Why?” San’s voice, low and gravelly reaches your ears as his hooded gaze meets your own. “Want to give it a try?”

All eight sets of eyes are on you in an instant, darkness swirling within.

You smirk, “Perhaps some other time.”

Eight low growls reach your ears as you walk back over to the door. You can feel the weight of their heated stares on you, even as you glance towards them from over your shoulder.

“Shall we?” You drawl out, a teasing flick to your brows.

Yunho seems to be the first to recompose himself, quickly moving over to you and placing his hand onto the skin of your upper back. Gently, he guides you through the door, clearing his throat all the while.

“I don’t tend to use many weapons, so my storehouse is a bit of the miscellaneous designs we keep for the occasional use.” He explains. “I do tend to like shredding things, whether physical, or mental, though.”

Again, your eyes light up as you take in the various unconventional designs around you. You can tell they’ve experimented with multiple angles and materials, each weapon given certain liberties over the rest. Everything from large hammers to thin whips with metal spikes attached to them line the walls, allowing you to see the various techniques they all know how to use in battle depending on the weapon.

Serrated blades, tools, saws, and even some scythes and rifles also line the walls.

Your brow quirks at the cage of guns off to the side.

“For our assassinations, mainly.” Yunho is quick to tell you, to which you’re immediately nodding your head in understanding.

“Who’s the best sniper?” You turn to them, looking over each male individually.

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong are amazing.” Wooyoung immediately boasts, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

“Really, we’ve got nothing on Mingi, though.” Hongjoong says, averting his gaze somewhat bashfully as red creeps up his neck.

At Seonghwa’s nod in agreement, you turn to the aforementioned male. Lightly, a grin pulls at the corner of your lips.

You let Mingi in.

I always knew you were way cooler than James Bond. You meet his gaze with an affectionate look of your own. Definitely proves it.

Mingi giggles, brushing tenderly against your mind with his own as his eyes crinkle at the sides.

You turn back to the main wall of weapons. “You all contribute to this stockade, or is it more trial and error?”

“A little bit of both.” San says, the others nodding in agreement. “Sometimes we even get certain materials from our friends that we play around with when creating weapons.”

At this, your brow quirks.

“Well, sometimes we aren’t simply given things.” Wooyoung chuckles. “Like when Jongho used the teeth from the snakes of the last gorgon leader to make a tiny mace.”

Jongho simply glares at Wooyoung in response.

“Not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.” You reply, nonchalantly. “Do you guys have any transforming weapons?”

“Mingi made the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.” Seonghwa comments casually.

Your jaw drops. “You did not.”

The second Mingi sticks his hand out, a weapon flies off of the wall. Sure enough, holding it out to you reveals it to be a life-size replica of the Beastcutter from Bloodborne.

“Holy shit.” There is no hiding the awe in your eyes as he passes it to you, you giggling like a maniac soon after.

“If I recall, Mingi’s made a lot of replicas of From Soft weapons.” Yeosang adds, humming lightly to himself.

“You have?” That awe filled gaze of yours is back on Mingi, who’s neck begins to turn bright red as he nods. “That’s incredible!”

He lifts a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”

“Moonlight, I wish you wouldn’t downplay your skills sometimes.” You comment, patting his arm affectionately. Then, you’re practically bouncing on your feet as the Beastcutter is returned to its original spot. “Now, show me, show me, show me!”

Mingi chuckles lowly, “Of course, Starlight.” He leads you back to the door, his arm gently finding purchase around your waist. “Right this way.”

Carefully, Mingi guides you through the door and into his own storehouse of weapons, his brothers following closely behind. The sound of the door shutting is synonymous with your gasp, your eyes practically shining as you take in the sets of weapons lining the walls, mainly consisting of dual blades.

At one particular set that is bright red, the edges of the blades artfully chipped, a dramatic gasp escapes you.

“No way!” You point at the blades, scurrying over to them while hopping around on your feet. “You made the Rivers of Blood from Elden Ring into a two sword set?”

“I had to compromise a bit on length, but the design is the same.” He shrugs, plucking them off of the wall and giving them each a spin in his hands.

You practically swoon as a result. “Somebody pinch me, I’m in heaven.”

Low chuckles resound around the room, each male loving how your excitement never seems to cease for even one moment. The fact that Mingi continues to captivate you currently by performing small tricks with the blades has them beaming. Though, a few, such as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa, all wish it were them that were impressing you in such a way instead.

Again, Mingi chuckles, placing the Rivers of Blood back in their spot before pulling two other katanas off of the wall. They also seem familiar to you, though you can’t seem to figure out why.

“I dubbed these ones my Deadpool set.” Mingi explains with a grin, giving them each a spin in his hands.

“I was wondering why they looked so familiar,” You hum, nodding slightly. “If you pull out the Blades of Chaos next, I might need to sit down.”

The grin Mingi wears is nothing short of gleeful as he replaces the katanas on the wall. In a blink, he holds out his hands, chains wrapping around his forearms before a dual set of particularly carved blades appear held in his grip.

You physically feel your legs give out beneath you, a hand coming up to press against your forehead as you fall backwards.

Luckily, Yunho appears just in time to catch you.

“I’m dreaming.” You mutter lowly, nothing but awe in your voice. “This is a dream, and I’m in heaven.”

More fond chuckles greet your ears.

“It’s a shame the blades are more for show than anything,” Mingi somewhat pouts. “Still worth seeing every one of your reactions, though, Starlight.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard something about them being impractical in real life cause of the chains or something.” You manage to right yourself on your feet, affectionately patting Yunho’s hands which he keeps wrapped around your waist. “The blades could still be effective on their own, though. Can they not?”

The grin that stretches across Mingi’s face says it all.

“Now, if you go around bathing them in fire as you use them, I might faint for real.” You comment casually.

His eyebrow quirks, “Promise?”

“You want me to faint?” You snort out a laugh.

“If it’s from something cool that I’ve done,” Mingi shrugs, storing the blades back in their place. “Why not?”

“Touché.” You hum, sparing another glance around the room. Your eyes catch briefly on a set of blades, curved to resemble human spines. You smile. “Seriously guys, this is incredible.”

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, nothing but tender fondness reflected in his eyes.

“Like I said, this is one of the best days of my life.” You breathe out. “I’ve always had a fascination with different types of weapons since I was small. It’s nice not having to hide my excitement about them anymore. Especially about ones that I long since thought could only be used in fictional settings, or for cosplay.”

“Hearing you rant and rave about certain styles of weapons when we watch those…” Jongho grimaces slightly, irritation shining briefly on his features, “Let’s Players, sticks with us, you know.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Jacksepticeye, Baby Bear.” You quirk a brow.

At the few grumbles you hear, you begin to laugh.

“You seem to be overtly fond of him.” Hongjoong mutters lowly.

You shrug. “He’s funny.”

Low growls sound from Yeosang, Mingi, San, and Seonghwa.

“Again, just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I don’t.” You remind them.

“That’s the problem, Angel.” Wooyoung mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The fact I find him entertaining?” You quirk a brow, noticing how they remain quiet for the most part. “Wait, is this why you all started playing God of War and Bloodborne? So, I wouldn’t watch his play-throughs anymore?”

“No.” Jongho answers, much too quickly.

“We also needed to get better insight of the weapons when making them.” Mingi says, matter of factly.

A smack is given to the elder male from the youngest as you stare at them knowingly. Then, your eyes seemingly glaze over, deep in thought.

“You said you make weapons out of materials sometimes gifted to you from others, right?” Your brow is furrowed as you step out of Yunho’s embrace, much to the male’s discontent.

“That’s correct.” Yeosang confirms.

You hum to yourself, beginning to pace back and forth as your mind reels.

“How strong are dragon teeth?” You pause, lifting your head to spare a glance at all of them.

Understanding flashes behind their eyes.

“They are extremely durable and versatile, My Divine.” Seonghwa replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Some of the strongest bones in all the realms. Other than their horns, of course.”

“And baby dragon’s teeth?” You quirk a brow.

“Not as durable, but strong all the same.” Yunho confirms.

Again, you hum, shifting to face Hongjoong. “Can I see Mon’s teeth for a moment?”

By the time you’ve extended your hands, Hongjoong has that green cloth placed upon your palms. You turn just in time to see a wooden table appear beside you, the guys all moving in to stand around it as you work.

Carefully, you unwrap the package that is Mon’s baby teeth. Once you have that cloth covering the main portion of the table, you begin arranging them in a particular pattern. Slowly, a triangle begins to form, Mon’s teeth outlining the shape.

“Our conversation just now gave me an idea,” you begin, righting yourself so you’re no longer hunched over the table. “A bit literal for serrated teeth, but I think it works well.”

A gentle hand is placed onto your lower spine curtesy of Mingi. Sparing a glance at him reveals his lips to be tugging upwards into a proud smile.

“I don’t know how the logistics will work, but if you can make the Beastcutter, then I’m sure you can make a Saw Spear,” You meet Mingi’s gaze. “No?”

A pride swirls behind his gaze, his chest puffing out the slightest bit. “I think that can be arranged.”

The smile that takes over your features lights up the entire room, excitement pouring off of you in waves. “Really?”

“Most definitely.” San confirms with a nod. “We can all help with this one.”

“You’d all really do this for me?” You spare a glance at all of them, noticing how tenderly they look at you.

“Of course!” Wooyoung confirms eagerly. “It’s not every day Our Queen asks us to make her her own weapon.”

You share an excited giggle.

“Listen, I want to be able to have something to call my own,” you grin. “Preferably not just a bat. I’m not sure how intimidating our enemies will find me only wielding a weapon like that.”

“Believe me, Baby,” San chuckles. “You’re plenty intimidating with a bat.”

“So I’ve heard.” You smile slyly.

“We could make you a personalized bat, too, Dearest.” Yeosang offers. “Anything and everything your heart desires, know that it’s yours.”

Lifting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes crinkle as your smile morphs into a loving one. 

“How about we start with this for now?” You say softly. “I’m sure I’ll think of more when the time comes. Believe me when I say there’s no shortages of weapon’s designs in my mind. But for now, there’s still two more main storehouses to see, and I’d also love to see a forge if there’s time. I am getting hungry.”

“Well then,” Yunho nods, noticing how his brothers all wear the same look of affection spreading across his face in this moment. “What are we waiting for?”

Leaving Mon’s teeth laid out on the table at their request, you walk back over to the door. This time, it’s Hongjoong that opens it, stepping through to hold it as you follow shortly behind.

If you’re being honest with yourself, his and Seonghwa’s rooms are the ones you’re most anticipating. Long since have you fantasized about what their own blades will look like, and now, you find your whole body shaking with excitement as you step through the threshold.

The instant you see the wall of daggers before you, a loud gasp escapes you. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, eyes flitting all over the weapons on display before you. Everything from ceremonial daggers, to jewelled blades rest before you in an array of designs. There even seems to be a small display case in front of the main wall with a dagger inside, resting upon a cushion. It looks familiar to you, and as you get closer, you realize why.

There seems to be a blade missing from the set, but you say nothing. Still, you cannot help but to zero in on that cushion, noting the slight indent where the second dagger should reside.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Hongjoong stiffen, but you opt to say nothing for now.

Sets of throwing knives line the one wall, some collections housing upwards of twenty blades. You take the time to observe everything, walking slowly around the room and taking it all in. Each blade manages to take your breath away, your heart racing erratically in your chest as excitement courses through your veins.

Hongjoong, you notice, still remains unusually quiet. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous, especially when you glance towards that display case in front of the main wall every now and again.

Turning to the others, you smile lightly, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”

A few quirked brows are sent your way in response, but they comply, nonetheless.

“We’ll meet you in your storeroom, okay, Mars?” You catch his gaze, noticing how he nods in understanding as soon as the words escape you.

Slowly, you watch as they all step through the door, and only once you see it fall shut, the small click resounding throughout the room, do you turn back to face Hongjoong.

There’s an almost reserved look in his eyes as he avoids your gaze. Slowly, he shifts from foot to foot, his hands clasped in front of himself.

Your expression falls.

Silently, you approach him, gently lifting his hands into your own.

“What’s wrong, My Love?” Your inquiry is soft, giving his hands a small squeeze in order to coax him to meet your eyes.

He’s unusually silent as he shakes his head, staring intently at your intertwined hands.

Normally, this room is a huge sense of pride for him. However, as soon as he saw you glance the display case with only the one dagger inside, his heart plummeted. Selfishly, he kept it there in its spot because he could not bring himself to get rid of it. Now though, he fears he made the wrong call, for that pillar acts as a stark reminder of every misdeed he’s ever performed. That case stands almost mockingly; a tombstone that could have been yours.

“Hongjoong,” Worry pulls at your brow as you lift a hand up to guide his gaze to yours. Tenderly, your thumb brushes against his cheek. “You’re unusually quiet right now, and I’m extremely concerned. I thought you’d be ecstatic to show me your collection today.”

He purses his lips, and you can see a hint of fear flash behind his eyes.

“Is this about the set of daggers in that case?” Your tone is nothing but gentle.

The way he stiffens beneath your touch says it all.

The way that you can tell that this is affecting him negatively has your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It’s clear to you that Miyeon still has her claws buried deep within his guilt, and all you want to do is reassure him as best you can in this moment. Only, you’re not quite sure how.

“They were-“ he clears his throat of the roughness that resides in his voice, “They were meant to be ours.”

Your gaze shifts to the small display case where that lone blade sits.

“The daggers,” You breathe.

He nods. “I made them for us.”

You squeeze his one hand once more, gently guiding him over to the display case so you can get a closer look.

Still, he refuses to so much as glance at that singular dagger.

“I wanted that one to be yours, and the other to be mine, but she-“ his voice hitches, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t think I could ever look at my dagger the same way again. Not after what she did to you with it. Yet, I can’t bring myself to destroy the set. It held so much meaning to me when I made them, that I just-”

He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his shoulders droop and he turns the slightest bit away from you.

Shame weighs heavy on his shoulders, regret adding its toll.

You take a moment to observe the dagger in the case. It’s certainly familiar, but you notice slight discrepancies to the one you’ve already seen. This dagger’s blade is slightly thinner, the handle carved in the opposite direction to its matching pair. You can tell that they’re meant to be put together. A set, never to be separated.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You turn to him, and your words finally draw a reaction from him. “Destroy them, I mean.”

“My Love?” There’s clear surprise on his features, not having expected you to say anything along those lines.

If Hongjoong is being honest with himself, he expected you to start cursing him out for not getting rid of the very weapon that caused you such harm. He was certain that you’d be screaming at him, asking him why he would keep such vile weapons around after what they did to you.

To say your tender look of affection shocks him would be a great understatement.

“You still have the other dagger, then?” You ask him softly, rubbing your thumb tenderly over the back of his hand.

Slowly, albeit hesitantly, he nods.

“May I see it?” The question is gentle in all meaning of the sense, making sure to keep your voice low as you look at him with kind eyes.

A moment’s hesitation before he nods. Then, he has the other dagger in his free hand, holding the handle out for you to take.

Meeting his gaze, you smile assuringly at him. Maintaining eye contact, you gently slip that dagger out of his hold, gripping it firmly in your one hand. Only then do you spare a glance down at one of the weapons that had caused you such pain all those long weeks ago.

Just as you thought, this one is slightly bigger, the blade both a little thicker and longer in length.

“This one was meant to be yours?” You lift your gaze to his, noticing how intently he watches you in this very moment.

He nods.

You let your intertwined hands fall to rest in the space between your bodies, letting them sway gently back and forth.

“Will you hold onto mine?” There’s nothing but a hopeful gleam to your eyes as you watch him nod.

Slowly, he unlocks the case. Once the glass is opened, he lifts your dagger out with the utmost of care, holding it delicately in his hand. The way that he’s standing perfectly mirrors you in every way, and you cannot help the small upturn of your lips at that fact.

“Hongjoong, I wish to keep these daggers together,” you begin. At the way you see his lips part in protest, you’re quick to continue, “She was the one who used it to hurt me, not you. I know for a fact that you would rather carve out your own heart than bring me any harm. Your dagger didn’t hurt me. She did.”

The hitch in his breath is audible, even to you.

“I know you may not have intended it this way, but I wish to keep this one as my own.” You lift the dagger in your hand slightly. “And I wish for you to use that one. Let me reclaim the weapon that was used to hurt me, and know that it is meant to symbolize your undying loyalty and protection. Let me wield you in battle, just as you will wield me when the time comes.”

The way your eyes flash over to that dagger held in his hand as you speak those words says it all.

“These daggers are for us, meant to protect each other.” You state, rather firmly. “I think it’s time we allow them the proper use. Don’t you?”

He swallows thickly, his lips parting as tears line his eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding his head once quite firmly. He blinks, and the first of his tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “Yes, My Queen. Always.”

Softly, you smile at him, guiding him into your embrace as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his sobs wracking his body as he holds onto you tightly, clinging to you both for dear life, but also in gratitude for what this moment means to the both of you. No longer will you allow Miyeon to control either of you. It’s time to reclaim that which has been stolen. All of it.

Pulling away from him slightly, you stare deeply into his eyes. The corners of your lips tug upwards in a loving smile, and you manage to brush some stray hairs out of his eyes.

“I am so deeply in love with you, My King.” There is no waver in your voice as you say this, pouring every ounce of sincerity that you can into your words. “Know that nothing will ever change that.”

“My Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips as he pulls you tighter against him. “Thank you, for believing in me.”

The smile you offer him says it all, nothing but tender love and affection shining within your gaze as you lean forward to kiss him gently. A kiss which he is all too eager to reciprocate, letting the movement of his lips over your own tell you of all the ways in which he loves you. The ways in which he will always love you, and appreciate all that you mean to him.

All too soon, you’re pulling away in order to rest your forehead on his.

“The daggers are beautiful, My Love,” Your words are but a soft caress against his lips. “Thank you for keeping them as one.”

Hongjoong manages a small smile in response. “I am simply happy you like them, My Queen.”

“I love them, Joongie.” Your reply is immediate, pulling the slightest bit back from him to admire the detailing on the handles once more. “It means a lot to me that you made them for us.”

“Of course, My Love,” Gently, he returns them both to their spots on top of the cushion inside the display. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. In a soft voice, he admits, “I made them the day I knew I wanted you to become Our Queen.” He turns to you, eyes holding nothing but love for you swirling within that familiar darkness. “My Queen.”

Your expression softens, “All the more reason to keep them, and use them as you’ve always intended.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckles lowly, offering you his hand as he steps in beside you.

Without any hesitation, you place your hand in his.

“I am curious, though,” you hum. “Did you keep the other one? The jewelled one from David’s shop?”

A blink, and that familiar dagger is in his free hand.

Your eyes go wide, a thrum of excitement going through you.

“I think it’s time it was given back to the woman who always deserved it,” He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes as he holds out the handle for you to take. “Don’t you?”

Eagerly, you nod your head, reaching out to take that dagger into your free hand.

You take a moment to look it over, twirling that blade in your grip lightly. A small smile rests on your features, eyes sparkling as you finally grasp the handle firmly in your hand.

Little do you see how fondly Hongjoong watches over you in this very moment. Though, from the way you lift your head to meet his gaze, you manage to catch the very look resting on his features.

“Thank you, Joongie,” You lean in to place an affectionate kiss upon his cheek. “This truly means a lot to me.”

“Your happiness means the world to me, My Love.” Hongjoong smiles, giving your one hand still held in his a small squeeze. “I’m simply glad you can finally have everything you’ve always desired.”

“It’s because of you, you know.” You turn to face him just as you reach the door. “I’ve only been able to achieve this because of you. Because of all of you.”

Hongjoong’s heart warms, and he leans in to place a lingering kiss upon your forehead. “Then, how wonderful it will be to spend the rest of eternity with one another.”

Your own heart swells with nothing but happiness, “How wonderful indeed.”

With a final squeeze of your intwined hands, you exit the room.

The moment you step into Seonghwa’s own weapon’s hold, you’re greeted by chaos. Both him and Mingi appear to be sparring with some of his swords, while Yeosang chases both San and Wooyoung around with a sword of his own. Yunho stands off to the side with Jongho, both males shaking their heads with their arms crossed over their chests.

“Did I miss something?” You quirk a brow playfully, successfully drawing their attention to both you and Hongjoong standing just inside the threshold of the door.

“Wooyoung and San were being smartasses, as usual.” Jongho shakes his head once more.

“Hey!” Said males whine at the same time.

“Then, why was Yeosang chasing you with- oh my god, is that Major General Armstrong’s sword?” You practically shove Wooyoung out of the way to take the sword from Yeosang’s grip. 

Unfortunately, you fail to miss the large pout that now pulls onto Hongjoong’s features as you essentially leave him in the dust in order to observe this new sword. Nor do you see the pout that Wooyoung wears as he looks to you with large, pleading eyes.

With your dagger held in your one hand, and the sword in the other, you take in the detailing of the metal. The floral design engraved on the length of the blade takes your breath away, and you begin shaking in excitement once more.

Then, you’re nodding to yourself almost subconsciously, “Very beautiful. Very powerful.”

“I’m glad you like it, My Divine.” Seonghwa chuckles affectionately, coming to stand beside you as the others return to their respective spots near the door. “Come, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Lifting your gaze, Seonghwa cannot deny the hitch in his breath as he sees your wondrous expression light up your features. The awe alone he can see says it all.

He swallows thickly.

Handing him the sword back, you finally take in the other blades residing on the surrounding walls.

“No way you have a wall full of just katanas- are those Zoro’s?” Another squeal leaves you as you rush over, gazing intently at the multiple swords lined up in a row.

Sure enough, upon closer inspection, the katanas in front of you correspond to the multiple ones Zoro has used throughout the course of One Piece.

“Seriously, I’m in heaven.” You sigh, dreamily.

Low chuckles sound from behind you, and you can feel all of their fond gaze on you as you dart around the room.

“No way!” A dramatic gasp escapes you as a particular blade catches your eye from across the room. “You made Sting?”

Just as you did with Yeosang’s bow in the first room, you go to reach out for it. Only, you hesitate, not sure if you should actually touch these weapons or not.

“Go ahead, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles, stepping in right beside you and placing a loving hand onto the skin of your lower back. “Please, don’t hold back.”

Practically shoving the dagger in your hands in his direction, you silently tell him to hold onto the jewelled blade while you lift Sting carefully off its display. Nothing but wonder resides in your gaze as you take in the detail work of the craftsmanship. The blade is unusually light, too, just as described in the book.

“If you tell me that this blade can also glow blue, I can and will faint right now.” You lift your gaze to his own, excitement pouring off of you in waves.

A soft chuckle falls from Seonghwa’s lips, “We’ll have to go visit some orcs, then.”

Your lips part, eyes widening as you visibly begin to shake. Not even a moment later, you’re zooming around the room, muttering to yourself about this being the best day of your life once more.

Hopping around the storehouse, you take in the rest of the swords lining the walls. You cannot keep the smile off of your face, almost subconsciously muttering a tune to yourself as you browse the selection of weapons before you.

“Oh, the wonders of weapons,” you hum, no longer paying any mind to the eight other males in the room, of whom watch you fondly. “The wonders of weapons of Kings.” You giggle. “My Lovely Kings.” 

They smile.

“My lovers are eight powerful, demonic Kings.” Your voice is low, but they still hear you loud and clear. A fact of which sets their hearts racing inside of their chests. “And I’m their One and Only Queen.”

Eight low growls of approval sound from behind you. Sparingly, you glance over your shoulder, offering them each a blissful smile.

“Today is a most wonderful day.” You continue to hum to yourself, bouncing around on the soles of your feet from one spot to another. “Spending it with the people I love.”

Rumbles of content fill the room, and you bound over to the eight of them with a vibrant smile lighting up your face. You take the time to give each one of them a kiss on the cheek, muttering how much you love them each time you do. A sentiment which is immediately echoed by each male as soon as you address them individually.

Still, you cannot prevent yourself from rocking excitedly on your feet as you see the large, dopey grins they offer you in return.

“Thank you.” You take the time to meet all of their gazes. “For today. For everything.” Your heart swells in your chest. “You all seriously don’t know how happy you make me.”

“The feeling is very much mutual, Petal.” Yunho hums, the same warmth that is currently flooding his chest heard clearly in his voice as he addresses you.

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest.” Yeosang adds, clasping his hands almost lovingly in front of himself as he gazes at you fondly.

You nod, vigorously at that. “Can I see one of your forges, now?”

“Of course, My Divine.” Seonghwa extends his free hand out to you, your dagger still held tightly in his opposite hand.

“Oh, thanks for holding onto that for me, Mars.” You reach over, taking your dagger back from him as he walks you both over to the door. “I-“

Your words die in your throat as the door opens to reveal a grandiose space. There’s a large wooden table that lines the one wall, the forge worked into the opposite corner. A floor to ceiling window resides near the forge itself, displaying a beautiful field with mountains in the distance. Hardly any clouds line the sky, the sun shining and illuminating the space all around.

Various weapons line the room, stacked on top of each other or resting against the wall where various tools and materials hang. There even seems to be a closet off to the side, which you would bet anything houses even more weapons that are currently being worked on, or have even been finished.

“Wow,” You breathe out, nothing but wonder on your features as you take it all in.

Carefully, you place your dagger onto the top of the wooden table off to the side, spinning around a few times to take in the full room around you. Seonghwa, of course, gives you enough space to do so, watching you with such a tender look in his eyes.

“Do all of your workshops look the same?” You turn to face them.

“More, or less.” Jongho tilts his head slightly from side to side. “Some of our tools vary due to the types of weapons we forge, but the setup is pretty much identical.”

“That’s so cool!” You say, awe clear in your voice.

“If you peek through the window, you can actually see the outlines of all of our forges in the hills.” Yunho motions with his head for you to take a look.

Instantly, you’re at the window, eyes scanning the area to see multiple windows buried seemingly inside the hills just outside.

“Woah,” You turn back around to face them. “That must come in handy when you need to borrow things from each other while welding.”

“It is quite convenient.” Mingi nods in confirmation. “Especially if one of the others has a material you need while crafting.”

“I can imagine.” You hum, eyes flitting over the table and taking in all of the little trinkets scattered about.

There seems to be a whetting stone placed near the corner, some scraps of black leather cut into pieces along the top. Some tools rest here and there, but for the most part, the space is clean.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Hongjoong nudge Seonghwa with his elbow.

You quirk a brow.

Seonghwa clears his throat.,“Actually, I have two things I wish to give you, My Divine.”

“You do?” There’s nothing but wonder in your tone as you watch him move around his workspace.

For a brief moment, Seonghwa enters that little closet at the side of the room. When he comes back, both of his hands are held behind his back.

You blink, curiosity getting the better of you as you attempt to see what he could be hiding.

“This one, we all agreed on a long time ago.” He says, sharing a brief look around the room at his brothers who all smile softly at you in response. “I reinforced it, so it no longer has to be simply decorative. Unless you desire it to be.”

In one swift movement, Seonghwa pulls his right hand out from behind his back. A familiar silver sword rests there, jewels glinting in the light.

The gasp that escapes you is immediate as you see the matching sword to that dagger you had placed on his work table resting in his hand.

Ever so carefully, you reach forward, taking that sword from his grip as your eyes shine with nothing but love.

“My Kings?” You glance around at all of them, noticing how they all stare at you the exact same way you’re looking at them.

“Anything and everything your heart could ever desire, Angel,” Wooyoung whispers. “It’s yours.”

“I-“ you swallow thickly, admiring that sword now held in your hands. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles assuringly at you. “Know that we will always provide for you, in whatever ways that we can.”

“We love spoiling you, Baby,” San adds softly. “Knowing these are things that you’ve always wanted… well… it means a lot to us to see you happy; to make you happy.”

Your lips part, but no words escape you.

“Just let us take care of you.” Yeosang voices lowly, all seven of them nodding along to his words.

Again, you swallow the emotions building in your throat. Your grip tightens on that pommel in your hands, and you manage to blink away your building tears of joy.

“Thank you.” You take your time to meet each of their gazes. “I mean it. You all never fail to go above and beyond for me, and I will always cherish these moments, these gifts, more than you’ll ever know.”

Their smiles widen, hearts beating erratically in their chests.

“We’re just love seeing you happy, Starlight.” Mingi repeats San’s words from only moments ago, nothing but sincerity shining within all of their eyes.

“I still have one more sword to gift you, today, My Divine.” Suddenly, Seonghwa looks the slightest bit more nervous as he stands before you. “That is, if you’ll have it.”

“My Mars,” you hum, affection dripping from your gaze, “You could gift me a wooden sword, and I would cherish it until the end of time.”

Teasingly, Seonghwa’s eyes narrow as he spares a glance around the room. “Alright, who told?”

Almost instantly, Jongho starts whistling inconspicuously while San, Wooyoung, and Mingi all avoid Seonghwa’s gaze.

You giggle, and like every time before, it is music to every single one of their ears.

“It took me quite a few tries,” he begins, keeping his voice low and tone steady, “But I had to make sure it was perfect.”

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa presents you with the other sword he had been holding behind his back this whole time. He rests it carefully over his palms, holding it out to you with loving eyes as he watches your every reaction carefully.

The sheath is easily recognizable to you, the leather strap wrapped meticulously around it just as it is when the sword gets presented in the movie. The handle is every bit as gorgeous as you remember, the black leather wrapping around the pommel perfectly placed as the worked silver glints in the light.

Without taking your eyes off of that sword, you pass the one currently in your hands to the closest person beside you. Easily, Mingi takes it from you as you step in closer to Seonghwa.

You swallow your building emotions.

With shaking hands, you reach out to grasp that sword. You take one small step back before you’re unsheathing it in one fluid movement, the etchings in the metal bringing tears to your eyes.

Before you, held in your very grip, is an exact replica of Andúril.

“You made this for me?” Your voice comes out small, your overwhelming emotions threatening to choke you out at any second.

Briefly, your gaze flits from the markings on the blade to Seonghwa’s face, noting how he nods softly.

The whole time, his gaze never leaves you for a moment. Never does he want to miss even a single second of the wondrous expression you wear on your face. The fact that he can hear your heart racing says it all.

“Seonghwa, I-“ Your grip tightens around the handle of the sword, meeting his gaze once more. “When?”

He shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the others remaining silent out of respect for the moment being shared between the both of you right now.

“I started that day we got back from the mall.” His honest reply nearly sends you to your knees.

Again, your eyes trail over every inch of that sword before you. Your heart swells with nothing but love, feeling as if it’s close to bursting as you take in every minuscule detail of the blade. You can tell that he put in a tremendous amount of effort into forging this weapon for you, and given its meaning to you in its entirety, you know that he spoke true when he said that he wanted to make it perfect.

For you. 

He made this for you.

Something within your eyes flash, and you’re quick to sheathe that sword. The whole time, you never break eye contact with the male across from you, and despite the pounding of your heart that you can hear in your ears, a sense of complete calm washes over you.

“You seven,” you don’t even spare them so much as a glance of acknowledgement. “Out. Now.”

Words of protest die on Wooyoung’s lips as he gets pushed out of the room by both Jongho and Yeosang. Of course, just before the door closes, Seonghwa does not fail to miss the wink Yunho sends his way.

The sound of the door clicking shut is synonymous with the movement of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You made this for me,” you begin lowly. “After hearing me say once that I have long since desired a replica of my own.”

He nods. Slowly.

“You didn’t hesitate for one moment to make this for me, did you?” Your inquiry is soft, despite the heated stare you wear.

He shakes his head.

You motion for him to come forward with your finger, backing yourself towards that wooden table as he begins stalking towards you. Not once does he break eye contact, obeying your every command without hesitation.

“Of all of the grandiose gesture you could make for me, this is the one that means the most.” You tell him honestly, your voice near breathless as you finally hit that table. Resting the sword against its side, you motion him closer. “There are no words to describe what this means to me; no gift more significant than that which you have just given.”

The moment he steps into you, your arms are around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Softly, your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck, and you notice how his suddenly hooded eyes continuously spare fleeting glances down to your lips. You smirk.

“A simple ‘thank you’ is not enough to convey what this means to me.” You whisper lowly, surprising him by flipping your positions so that he’s the one pressed against the table. “What you mean to me, Seonghwa.”

One of your hands sneaks down his torso, sending a shiver up his spine as he feels you caressing his side. Then, you pull him even closer, hoisting his thigh up so that his leg wraps around your waist.

“How about it, My King?” You hum, voice nothing but sultry as your lips barely ghost over the skin of his own. “Will you allow me to demonstrate my gratitude for you?”

“Yes,” The nod of his head is immediate as he all but whimpers out a response. “Please.”

The corner of your lips twitches faintly upwards before you’re closing the rest of the distance between your two bodies. The way you hold onto him, and he to you, is nothing short of desperate, kissing one another like you are the very air you both need to breathe.

Carefully, you help him sit on top of the table, allowing for him to fully wrap his legs around your waist. Unashamedly, his hands roam over your body, pulling you in closer as his fingers dance across your skin.

The moan he lets out as you take his bottom lip between your teeth sets your heart fluttering inside of your chest.

“You are incredible, Seonghwa,” you mumble out against the skin of his lips. “And so, unbelievably beautiful.”

He moans, legs tightening around your waist as his stomach twists pleasantly.

“Shouldn’t-“ he gasps as you begin trailing your lips over his jaw, soon moving to bite at the skin of his neck, “Shouldn’t I be telling you this.”

“Some other time,” you promise, placing a lingering kiss over his racing pulse. “Right now, I want to worship you.”

The shudder that wracks his entire body does not go unnoticed by you. The fact that you can physically feel his skin heating beneath your touch says it all.

“My Queen-“

“Shhh,” you’re quick to cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”

You pull away only the slightest bit to stare deeply into his eyes. Silently, you check in with him, brushing against that familiar blue string in your mind to make sure that he’s okay.

“Please,” he swallows. “Don’t stop.”

The tender smile that pulls at your lips says it all.

Instantly, you move back in to continue biting and sucking at his neck, your hands sneaking up his shirt and eliciting another moan from his lips. The desperate way he clings to you has a pleasant feeling building within your core, spreading outwards and warming your entire body.

To know that he wants you, that he needs you in this moment means the world to you. 

You wouldn’t have it any any other way.

Bringing your lips back to his, you swallow all of his sounds, enjoying every small whimper and moan he gives you. The way he gasps as your one hand slides up his thigh to pull him flush against you by his ass is like music to your ears.

“My Seonghwa,” you hum, slowly grinding your hips against his own.

A choked moan of your name slips passed his lips, “Yours.”

“That’s right, My Dove,” you nip lightly at his ear, feeling how he shudders once more in your hold. “You’re mine.”

“All yours,” he whimpers, burying his face into the side of your neck.

Slowly, you bring your one hand between your two bodies, beginning to palm his semi-hard cock over his jeans. The fact that he seems to desperately grind against your hand in time with your movements makes you smirk.

“My Beautiful Dove,” you hum, adding the slightest bit more pressure to your palm as you move over his clothed cock. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?”

Softly, he shakes his head against the skin of your shoulder.

“No?” The corner of your lips tug upwards in a small grin as you pull away to meet his wide eyes. “Then, I guess I’ll have to show you.”

Your lips are back on his in an instant, pulling him flush against you. Carefully, you begin to lean him back, hovering over him as you lay him down on that table. His hands cling desperately to your back, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck every time you move to bite your marks into his skin. Marks which you know he will wear proudly for as long as he can.

“My Divine,” the whimper that escapes him goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“My Beautiful Seonghwa,” you rest your forehead gently against his own. “As if you didn’t know that forging me Andúril would be considered the grandest romantic gesture you could ever make for me.”

His chest is heaving, hips desperately seeking your own. Only, you pin him to that table, retracting your hand from over his cock and eliciting the sweetest of whines from his throat.

“As if you wouldn’t have known that I would immediately have to satisfy My King as a reward for always taking such good care of His Queen.” You continue, reaching out slightly to the side to grasp a particular object in your hand. Once you feel that cool metal of the dagger against your palm, you smirk. “Since My King has shown me nothing but a loving patience and dedication to his craft, I shall show him the same.”

Again, you lean over him, pecking his lips tenderly.

“I wish to take my time savouring you right now, Seonghwa,” you tell him gently. “As long as you’ll let me.”

At the vigorous nod of his head, along with the breathless ‘yes’ that falls from his lips, you have your answer.

You smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as your heart warms.

Slowly, carefully, you bring that dagger up his body. Gently, you tug his shirt forward, the tip of the blade kissing the material. Cautiously, you hook the blade beneath the neckline of his shirt, watching him carefully for any signs of discomfort.

You find none.

The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, the dagger getting tossed beside you on that table as you help him sit up once more. His lips are on yours as you strip Seonghwa of his now cut shirt, the planes of his chest on full display. The way he shivers beneath your touch as your hands roam down his bare chest has you smiling into the kiss.

Without wasting another moment, you part from him only to begin trailing your lips down his chest. You take your time, biting and sucking marks into his skin as your hands grip his waist firmly. The fact that Seonghwa arches into your touch, eyes fluttering as he feels your tongue come out to lave over his burning skin says it all.

Another moan of your name slips passed his lips.

“That’s it, My Dove,” you coo, sliding him the slightest bit forward, and back onto the edge of the table. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Slowly, you begin to sink to your knees, allowing your fingers to trail over his thighs as you do so.

Seonghwa’s head is spinning, and with each breath, his chest heaves. He can hardly believe that this is happening right now, his hands desperately gripping at the side of his work table for dear life. The image alone of you on top of him like that, and now, with you resting on your knees between his legs, is making his cock ache for your touch once more. He needs you, and he’s sure to tell you that.

The smirk that pulls at your lips is nothing short of devious, “Patience, My Dove. I told you that I wish to take my time with you right now.”

A small whimper escapes him.

“You’re not the only one who wants my lips wrapped around you cock right now, Seonghwa.” Your eyes flash dangerously as you look up at him through your lashes. “Be patient, and I will reward you, My King.”

Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, whole body stilling as your words settle over him. He can feel his cock throbbing, becoming almost painful the longer he goes with you no longer touching him.

The second you begin to undo his belt, his thighs begin to shake.

Soothingly, you rub your hands over his upper thighs, staring up at him with wide eyes. As you meet his gaze, your hands still, finger sinking into the material of his jeans as his lips part with another moan.

“Look at you,” you hum, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ve barely even done anything to you yet, and you’re ready to fall apart.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t come yet from your touches alone,” he admits lowly, voice a little rough as he clears his throat.

Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh?”

“My Divine, the feeling of your hands on me is one of the greatest sensations I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” He breathes, thighs tensing as you begin to undo the zipper of his jeans. “You already know how little self-control I seem to have around you.”

Slowly, you begin to slide the material of his jeans down his thighs as you chuckle once more. A moment later, you help him step out of them, tossing both his jeans and his boxers off to the side.

“That, I do know,” you smile knowingly. “And yet, you’re being such a good boy for me.”

His cock visibly twitches from your words, and you smirk.

“Oh?” Your brow quirks, a devious look shining behind your eyes as you look up at him. “You like it when I call you My Good Boy, don’t you.”

His grip tightens on the edges of the table, and you wonder at how the wood hasn’t cracked beneath the pressure yet.

“Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. “Fuck- I love it, My Queen.”

The giggle you let out is music to his ears.

You meet his gaze through your lashes once more, “Good boy.”

Again, his cock visibly twitches from your words. You can see how desperately he restrains himself from reaching out to you right now, his hands tense as he grips the table for dear life.

Teasingly, you trail your hands back up his thighs. Only, when you get close to his hips, you stop, dragging them back down and ensuring your nails scratch lightly over his skin.

He shudders.

The whole time you rest before him, Seonghwa keeps his gaze locked on you. Not once does he allow his eyes to fall shut, and he swears to himself that he’ll do whatever he can to engrain this memory in his mind for as long as possible. He’ll be damned if he misses even one second of you pleasing him, for you appear just as eager as he does in this moment.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

Trailing your hands back up his thighs, you give them both another appreciative squeeze. Then, finally, you lean into him, bringing your lips to the skin of his inner thigh as your one hand wraps delicately around his cock.

The moment your fingers close around him, he moans. His lips remain parted, breaths coming in uneven pants as he feels you gently nipping at the skin of his inner thigh. The way your hand begins to move over him has his whole body twitching beneath your touch.

The closer your lips get to his aching cock, the harder it becomes for him to control himself. Desperately, Seonghwa clings onto whatever shreds of his sanity that he has left, taking in the beautiful sight that is you, on your knees, pleasing him right now.

Just when he thinks you’ll free him from your teasing licks and kisses on his one thigh, you move to the other, repeating the same actions over his skin almost lovingly.

At one particularly firm bite against his thigh, his stomach clenches. He can feel himself twitch in your hand, a low groan escaping him as he leans further back on the table for support.

You chuckle, looking up at him innocently from between his spread legs.

“My King?” 

He hums, almost absentmindedly.

“One more thing,” A devious gleam is shining behind your eyes. One which his blissed out state manages to ignore for the moment.

“Anything, My Queen.” He breathes out, breath hitching in his throat as he sees you lick your lips.

“Hands to yourself until I say so.”

As soon as those words escape you, your lips are around him. Gently, you suckle on the tip, tongue flicking over his slit a few times as you maintain eye contact with him.

A choked moan escapes him, his right hand automatically reaching out to you. Only, he catches himself, fingers twitching in midair right by your head. Slowly, reluctantly, he retracts his hand, gripping onto that table desperately for support.

The chuckle you let out reverberates along his cock, sending pleasant shivers up his spine and causing his stomach to clench. The way your tongue feels, beginning to swirl around his head as you take more of him into your mouth is making his head spin. Never before has Seonghwa been this hard in his life, and the fact that it’s all because of you is only adding to the intensity of the pleasure that he’s currently feeling.

Low, guttural groans escape him as he watches you sink further down on his cock. Languidly, your tongue strokes along his shaft, pleasant hums escaping you as you watch his every reaction carefully. The fact that his whole body trembles, fingers digging into the wood of the table has you chuckling lowly once more.

Slowly, you begin bobbing your head. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you use your one hand to stroke over, squeezing at his base a few times as you hollow your cheeks over him.

Seonghwa nearly collapses right then and there. As much as he tries, he cannot prevent the way his eyes flutter closed, tossing his head back as a moan of your name slips passed his lips.

“Just like that, My Divine,” he smiles, blinking his vision open once more to see the glorious sight that is you, on your knees before him, with his cock in your mouth. A low growl escapes him, eyes flashing black. “Fuck- just like that.”

Desperately, he does whatever he can to keep his hips from bucking further into your mouth. The wet heat of your mouth is overwhelming, nothing but pure pleasure coursing through his veins as he feels you suckling at the tip of his cock once more.

Pulling away from him for just a moment, you let your hand pump over his length a few times. Again, you lick your lips, gaze darting up to meet his own as you move in closer.

Another growl escapes him as he watches you suck one of his balls into your mouth. His whole body shudders as you slowly let it pop back out of your mouth only for you to begin placing wet, open mouthed kisses up along the bottom of his shaft. The way your tongue comes out to trace along the path shortly afterwards has him twitching in your hand.

“Oh, fuck-“ His breath catches in his throat, eyes bleeding black once more. “Again. Please, do that again.”

The way your lips are currently pressed against his cock lets Seonghwa feel every inch of the smile that pulls at your features. To his utmost pleasure, you’re almost instantly repeating your actions, taking even more time to caress your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing over a prominent vein.

“My Divine, please-“ he chokes out, every breath escaping him now but a mere whimper on his lips.

You spare a glance upwards and into his eyes as you tighten your hold around the base of his cock.

“I love you, My Seonghwa.”

Your lips are around him as soon as the words finish escaping you, moving over him with a newfound vigour. You barely even begin to lave your tongue over his cock when you feel him twitching within your mouth, the sound of shattering wood greeting your ears.

Whimpers and whines escape him, along with desperate cries of your name as his orgasm washes over him. His body hunches the slightest bit forward, releasing down your throat as you help to ride him through his high.

Every last drop he offers you, you swallow, humming contently around him as you lick him clean.

Your name falls like a mantra from his lips, whole body shaking as he leans against the table for support. Two chunks seem to have been torn from the wood where his hands had been gripping the table so firmly, the shattered remains littering the ground around you.

Slowly, you release him from your mouth, hearing as another guttural groan escapes him as you do so. When you spare a glance up, you notice his chest heaving, his lips parted as he stares down at you with nothing but love and pure, unfiltered awe in his gaze.

Tenderly, your hands come up to stroke over his thighs. “Good?”

“Good?” He smiles, voice deep and rough. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m great. Never been better, in fact.”

You giggle, standing carefully back to your feet with a little help from him. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, kissing you deeply as he flips your positions so that he can push you back against his worktable now.

“Seonghwa,” you giggle against his lips. “What are you doing?”

“Returning the favour,” he growls lowly, pressing you a bit firmer into the wood behind you.

Softly, your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the back of his neck. “Some other time, yeah?”

A whine of protest escapes him, pulling away from you to look into your eyes with round, pleading ones of his own.

“Later. I promise.” You bring your hands around to cup his face tenderly in your palms. “For now, let’s go get something to eat.”

The playful quirk of his brow informs you of what it is, exactly, that he intends to eat.

“Next time.” You say, a little more firmly.

He pouts, but listens nonetheless as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Come on, Mars.” You smile lovingly at him, grabbing his hand in yours after he’s finished putting on his belt. 

You lick your lips, taking the time to admire him for the nth time this day as he stands before you.

“My Divine, if you keep staring at me like that…” He lets his words trail off, but the darkness you see swirling behind his eyes says it all.

“What?” You chuckle, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “I said I was hungry.”

[kitsuneregin]

Blood Crown 3 (Yandere!King!San x Servant!Reader)

Warning:// Threats of child death

Morning would come quickly as you made the bed neatly and put back on your clothes, you walked downstairs with the used silks and placed them in the washing room. You quietly walked out the room and towards the kitchen to write a thank you letter to the nice gentlemen who aided you. You're startled by the presences of the two already awake, Seonghwa was cooking breakfast as Hongjoong sat at the dining table and drank his coffee. "Ah good morning Y/n" Hongjoong happily greeted. You nod to Hongjoong and Seonghwa who nods back to you.

"I'm taking my leave now, I thank you both for allowing the night here" You say, Hongjoong worriedly looks to Seonghwa who looks just as concerned. "What about Wooyoung's kingdom?" Hongjoong asked getting up from his seat and walking to you, he knew he had to keep you with him and Seonghwa, for both of their sakes. "I'll travel by foot, I need to head north is all" you say, Hongjoong could see the hesitant in your eyes, you had no idea where you're going.

"Nonsense, a young woman like you shouldn't be traveling alone, we're heading towards King Wooyoung's kingdom to get back home, join us" you felt relief in your heart at Hongjoong's offer. Seonghwa looked back to the food as he started forming a plan in his head. The three of you would enjoy breakfast together and soon you were standing near the carriage of the two as they brought their bags out. You reached to take the bags but Seonghwa pulled away "A woman shouldn't be carrying heavy bags, get in the carriage and rest" he said.

You hesitate for a moment before subcumming to the older male and getting into the back of the carriage, Hongjoong pulled one his men over "Take a horse and ride to King San's kingdom, tell him we're heading towards King Wooyoung's kingdom, we'll be just outside the territory by the time the message reaches him" the man nodded as he took a spare horse and rode away, you noticed and question why one of Hongjoong and Seonghwa's helper would be riding opposite of them.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa climbed into carriage as the driver whipped the reigns and began moving north, the ride was mostly silent with the occasional quiet small talk coming from the couple. You felt awkward almost invasive to them, they were kind enough to let you rest for the night and now they're driving you towards Wooyoung's kingdom. You wanted to repay them somehow.

.

.

.

Back in the Kingdom Light chaos was spreading like wild fire, with you on the lamb civilans suffered, no one was to leave the kingdom, traders who traveled for work were running low on funds, harvesters coudln't scrounge the forest for berries, nor could hunters go on camps to hunt for wild boars and larger animals. Knights would barge into civilians home and ransack the place in search of you. Though many civilians didn't know of your existence many began to despise you, some even wished death on you.

In the castle San sat angrily in his office, he was accompanied by his fellow kings, Jongho, Mingi, Yeosang, and Yunho. "Where is Wooyoung" San asked wanting his closest friend with him at this moment. "His wife is due to give birth to his first born soon, he doesn't want to take travel if the issue is not urgent" Jongho explained. San scoffed "The issue is urgent" San said, Yunho was the first to ask "What might it be" San took a deep breath "A betrothed of mine has ran away, I want her back" the room was silent for a moment as the king's pondered on their next words.

Mingi opened his mouth first "Who exactly is your betrothed? Can't be any of princess available, they're either too young or already set to be married...San, tell you haven't fallen for a peasant girl" San clenched his jaw never looking Mingi in the eye. This was all the kings needed to know, Yunho sighed, Yeosang rubbed his aching head, Jongho ran his hands down his face, and Mingi stared at San disappointed "She was my servant...she's very beautiful, I want her" San queitly explained. "Are you out of your mind?" Yeosang hissed, the other kings looked to the quiet king. "San you know you can't marry a servant, the council will riot, this can open doors to so many other things, what if other low life's begin to think they can just marry into Royalty? Chaos will spread faster than we can stop it"

Yeosang's words weighed heavy on the angry King, he hated how right Yeosang was, San knows that if he openly marrys you he could opening the doors hell. The thought of you getting married to someone else though, made San boil with anger. "By the way where is Hongjoong and Seonghwa?" Jongho asked noting the eldest couple missing. "They're on honeymoon" San answered, the quintet sat in silence once more, "San, does this servant mean so much to you? Are you willing to deal with everything Yeosang said for this servant" Yunho asked. "Yunho you can't be serious" Jongho sighed. San pondered for a moment, "Yes she means everything to me" San answered.

Yunho nodded "I’ll send a small number of my men to help find her" the other kings tried not to groan in annoyance, “thank you” San said softly. Yunho looked to the others as they all slowly mumbled to help San. The meeting was adjourned as the kings went for a stroll in the garden, Johnny was out on watch, his mind wondered to you hoping you were safe out in the wilderness.

“Have you heard the horrors going on in the village” Mark his friend whispered. “Rumors have it the foot knights are destroying homes and businesses for this missing girl, villagers are getting angry by the day, some have even gone out to search for her themselves to end this madness” Mark said, Johnny didn’t respond as he didn’t want to get too involved in the hunt. “There’s even a Barron who’s giving out cash reward for retrieving her 1,000 gold…man if I had money like that” Johnny cut him off, “you’ll still be working for the king, don’t let riches blind you they’re only temporary, besides let the girl be she obviously had a reason to leave” Johnny stated bluntly.

“Reason to leave? How would you know” Mark questioned. “Who would flee a castle where your roomed, fed, clothed, and taken care of 24 hours 7 days, and all in return you do some chores around the castle…unless you’re being abused by tyrant king” Johnny mumbled the last part but was heard by mark who looked surprised. “Johnny do you know something?” Mark asked now curious what his friend is hiding, Johnny bit his lip not wanting to speak anymore. “Come on, if you know something let me in on it, I’ll stay quiet” Mark begged.

Johnny shook his head “leave it be Mark” Johnny sighed, “Johnny please! What do you know about the missing girl…did you know about her escape” Mark gasped. “What’s this about an escape” the voice of San startled the two knights as they turned to see the 5 kings staring at them. “Your majesty” the two bowed to San, Johnny began to feel nervous. “What is this about you knowing the whereabouts of the missing servant” San walked up to Johnny, the knight gulped as he stammered “was nothing but idle gossip sir” Johnny explained shaken, San smirked “why are you shaking? If it was just simple gossip there’s nothing to fear” San patted the armored knight’s shoulder. Johnny nodded trying to control his feelings.

“Johnny you have a wife correct, and a 2 year old son?” Johnny paled at the information. “Yes sir” he whispered. San chuckled “Then you understand, not wanting to lose something so precious correct?” Johnny nodded weakly. “Good! Then you’ll understand the heartbreak I feel everyday the women I love isn’t beside me…” Johnny eyes widened as San turned to one of the other knights in the garden “Go to his family house and kill all of them inside, even the child” Johnny felt tears well in his eyes.

Johnny dropped to his knees “Please don’t, sir, I beg spare my family, torture me, demote me, kill me even, please don’t hurt my wife and child they’re innocent” Johnny begged. San scoffed “That desperate? Fine…take him to the chambers” San ordered. Johnny was shackled and dragged away from his post. Yunho, Jongho, Mingi, and Yeosang all looked at each other all wearing a face of concern or horror. “Gentlemen, I apologize for the sudden departure but I have some serious business to attend to” San smiled wickedly leaving his friends behind.

[starillusion13]

FRIENDS!? Chapter 10

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere, SMUT

Warning: mention of memories and gaining back memories (nothing much just go with the flow)

W.C: 3.2k Network: @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

!

Something must have happened.

Something must have happened.

Something must have happened.

you were biting your nails and mumbling this same line for the last ten minutes. Star, on the other hand, was looking at you weirdly. Once, she tried to ask you about the 'something' but you looked at her with such confused and lost eyes that she didn't gather the courage to ask you about it again.

"Are you going to think about it the whole day?"

You shook your head, “there are blank spaces everywhere. Some things are missing and I don’t know what. I am going crazy, Star.”

She looked at you for a while, contemplating the situation. You were in total distress and it was clearly visible on your face. Sipping her drink, she patted the top of your hand, “calm down, y/n. Have you shared this with Beomgyu? I’m sure he can be of some help right now.”

Again, you shook your head and looked at her, “I don’t want to bother him. He is busy with his father's business and saying all these to him means stressing him out like me.”

“Then try to talk with someone else who might be a help.”

“I’m talking to you.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “I don’t know a single shit about your past and present except the things you shared to me so I can only help you to get closer to them and nothing else. I know them and after seeing this situation, I don't think I can do anything for you.”

Your eyes lit up and held her palm with yours, “how about you gather information about them and let me know everything. This is all so confusing and I can’t act normal in front of them. Their words, their actions, everything seems so unsure.”

Her expressions turned serious, “aren’t you and Yunho in a relationship? Talk with him then he can help you with this.”

Yunho and You. Yes, almost a lot of people know about this in the office building. All thanks to his possessiveness and princess treatment. What about others? The connection you felt with him and if you were in a relationship with all of them then why do you remember only Yunho and you and feel different with him? Are they hiding something? Your memories are not set into right puzzle pieces and some are placed wrong and intersect with others.

Or maybe there’s two puzzle pieces for each blanks?

“I will talk to him.”

She smiled again, “how about we go on a trip — you and me. We can also ask Beomgyu to tag along.”

Before you could reply, someone placed a file harshly on the table making a thud sound. Both of you flinched to the sudden noise. You looked up at the person who had a stoic expression while staring at you and looked away to the girl opposite from you, sliding the file across the table, he snapped his fingers.

“You were here for the file.take it and leave. I don’t want people to gossip in my office building.” giving you a side eye, “especially with my personal assistant.”

Star quickly stood up, bowing her head and taking the file from the table, she scanned the first page. Nodding to herself, she bid quick goodbyes to both of you and mouthing ‘I’ll call you later’ to you.

Your eyes followed her exit from the door of the cafeteria. Looking around, you could see others staring at you and you better know the reason — the commotion with the file. Sending a wide smile towards them, some returned to their usual selves and some still giving you side glances.

“Are you done with your gossip?”

Oh! How you forgot, he was still standing beside you. Licking your lips, you stood up and brushed your skirt, “I’m sorry for that.”

He poked his inner cheek, “you are late for the meeting by almost ten minutes. Are you aware of that?”

“Meeting? I didn’t know about that." you furrowed your brows and took the tablet from the table, “let me check it again. I’m sure-”

He quickly held your wrist tightly, “no need. Come with me.” dragging you towards the door, he paused at the counter, “send the receipt to my cabin later.” the lady behind the counter nodded and sent a smile towards both of you.

Keeping your head low, not daring to meet any gaze around you and facing reality, you were hoping to get into the elevator as fast as possible. It’s better to be away from all the eyes. It’s even better to be away from this man. It’s better to be away from him. From them. From this world. 

You are definitely going crazy.

The sudden pull of your hand made you look up at him in confusion. You could see his cold eyes and black neat hairs, totally ready to attain a meeting. The elevator door shut and you sighed in relief. Not really when certainly you were with him inside a confined small space and in an uncomfortable silence.

So it’s real, this is real…

You gulped nervously while staring at the floor and scratching your fingers to make it obvious that you want to be somewhere else at the moment.

“y/n…” you didn’t reply. Actually, you couldn’t hear him calling you. There were a lot of questions running inside your head. Even though you are comfortable with them, laughing with them, talking with them and staying with them, there’s still this lingering feeling — something has happened and something is wrong.

He turned to your side and bent a little, “ y/n.” he whispered the name into your ears.you flinched to his sudden voice and him being so near, turning your head, you could see how near his face was to yours and you quickly stepped back. Standing so close left you no room to scoot back and you held the steel rod beside tightly in your fist. His eyes were piercing at you and you couldn’t help but to look away.

“Hongjoong…”

He could sense the little fear and nervousness in your voice.

He smirked and stood straight, while crossing his arms, wondering how you get scared so easily of them, “why do you make us feel so guilty every time? What have we done to you to make you feel scared of us?”

“What do you mean? I’m not scared…it’s just..I..” you trailed off, didn't know what to speak more but just licked your lips and avoided his gaze and looked awkwardly around the elevator.

Hongjoong chuckled and reached out to tap your head, “just tell us everything. Think of us as your friend and everything will be okay. It’s good you can remember some part of our past. Isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

His smile disappeared for a moment but the expression flickered so quickly. Was he mad for a second? This is the one who makes you the most confused — neither his words, his actions and his expressions match with each other. How are you supposed to know about him? He looks so easy to get to know but is the toughest one. 

“why?”

You gulped before quickly replying, “there’s a lot more I should remember.” you made a sound in disbelief, “a few months back I didn’t know I had this past with you all. I've known you all for almost a year and back then on our first meeting I didn’t know we were friends. This is too much for me.”

What will happen if you remember all of your past?

Was it for good or bad that you forgot a few years of your life?

“I want to go away from here.” you whispered.

“Huh? What is it?” he leaned close to hear what you said, again his handsome face inches away from you.

You quickly shook your head and looked in the other direction to avoid his sharp gaze. You were surprised to see a new floor no. 17 displayed on the screen. You haven’t been on this floor before. It wasn’t necessary and specially, no one is allowed here without them and their permission. He smirked before looking down at your lips, several thoughts running down inside his mind. Especially the one.

You are too innocent.

He stood straight and faced forwards when the screen and sound indicated your desired floor. As a gentleman, he stepped forward and gestured to you to come out and as you approached his side, he held your hand again. You are not going to run away then why is he holding you like this.

Not noticing a few feet away, someone was leaning against the glass wall, calmly scrolling on his phone and watching your awkward interaction with Hongjoong. Standing straight and a low chuckle followed by his quick steps towards you, “you good there?” patting your back and amused at your raised shoulder with sudden skinship.

“I am..” you glanced at him and a smile appeared on your face, “Mingi…what is this place?”

“Oh, a personal meeting area. Do you wanna look around?”

Hongjoong held back his friend’s hand and said in a cold way, “we have to go there. They are probably waiting for us.”

If you can run away right now. It's better to take Mingi with you from this hell-hole of Hongjoong. Why can’t you roam around a bit? There’s no meeting and he has probably mistaken. WTH! This is a workplace, y/n…not a playground or your university that you can skip.

“Why are you taking me with you when no one else is allowed here if not necessary?”

Hongjoong replied, “we can come here anytime.”

“yeah but I-“

“And you are part of us.” He was watching you in a daring way, to see what more you have to say. Your lips parted but closed quickly enough, blinking in surprise and confusion. He smiled, “Now keep quiet and follow me.”

You nodded, looking directly into his eyes. After doing it, you immediately regretted because he again crouched to your level, “little one has so many questions. Isn’t it?”

Tugging the hairs behind your ear, “but you better know that… curiosity kills the cat.” And now you feel like getting lost in this building and they should keep finding you and you don’t have to face him for some time.

But they would find you anytime, it’s their building afterall.

Mingi cleared his throat.

Thank you, Mingi… you mentally said it several times.

“Follow me.” Hongjoong mumbled and you obeyed, as if you had any choice.

Mingi held his hand forward and smiled, “let’s go.” You sighed and grabbed it, following them wherever they were leading to.

They care for you and you are just paranoid.

Everything was silent except your mind --- overthinking at its peak. You looked around and observed the place. The hallway wall was of chrome silver and it had strange doors and patterned walls with some textured frame hanging on them. They both noticed you admiring the place and you were not caring that Mingi was dragging you because you were just following the pull of your hand, not really watching where you were going.

.

.

.

“This place smells so nice.” You blurted out but quickly turned towards them when you heard them chuckling.

Mingi pulled you closer to him while taking a turn. How many turns are there? This floor is like a maze. “I will ask for this particular room freshener to be set for our floor and a separate one for your room.”

You smiled brightly, “oh no need. I was just saying, but thank you honestly.”

Mingi patted your head, “it’s nothing really. This is the least we can do for your welcome and stay here.”

“you have done enough…I must say more than enough.”

Wow.

The door in front of you was totally giving off those luxurious, futuristic automated movie ones. The screen with neon green rays scanning their ids and Mingi held your right thumb above the keypad scanner and the door displayed ‘ENTRY ACCESS’.

Since when does it has your thumbprint record?

Hongjoong entered first and MIngi followed and stopping at the entrance, “a pretty lady should enter first.”

“such a gentleman, thank you.” You remarked and casted a glance towards Hongjoong. Such a hot weird man. Your courage can’t let you speak that on his face though. As you avert your eyes from them to the front, you see others already scattered or seated on their respective chairs and San was bringing a cup of coffee from the corner and smirked at you when he caught your gaze.

There was a long white table in between and around it, the men whose eyes were boring into your form. The different ceiling lights and fancy, different size of lights decorating the shelf with file stack up, frames and above the table, glowing up the room where papers and pens scattered around.

This is definitely a workplace and no doubt, nowhere they seemed like your friends. It's like a business deal is going on.

Hongjoong seated himself on his chair, pulling off his coat and throwing it on the couch beside him and swiveled his chair to face you standing at the end of the table. He rolled the sleeve of his white shirt and loosened the tie. Yeosang was leaning his back, his hip balancing against the table with a file in his hand, he was wearing the same shirt and tie like Hongjoong. He gave you a quick smile and returned back to the file.

Wooyoung was sitting exactly like Yeosang on the other side of the table, he still had his coat on and surprisingly he had his glasses on. It suits him well. In front, San was sitting on a chair with a vest on. He never fails to look good and you can tell they were discussing something earlier. Seonghwa with full suit in a clean and neat look was standing behind his chair and turned his head to look at you.

Jongho stepped in front of you from around the table and gave you a tight hug, “y/n…finally you are here. We were waiting for so long” you patted his back before he parted himself from you and stood straight, straightening his coat in the way.

“Hello…is there any particular reason? I didn’t know I had to come here.”

Mingi urged by pushing your lower back slightly to step forward. Jongho pulled back a chair between his and Mingi so that you could sit and then your gaze fell on Yunho across from you. He looked in distress and he neither had his coat on nor a tie. Heaven…he was looking so hot and handsome. The  tight black strap suspenders with his white shirt collar unbuttoned   and sleeves rolled up.

“Hi, Yunho.”

Even if your voice was low, everyone inside the room heard you. Afterall, they could hear your voice in the noisy place as well. Now, you greeted Yunho only but this caught every individual’s attention.

Did you do something wrong?

Wooyoung broke the sudden silence when he saw your confusion, “only hi to Yunho. What about us?”

Jongho laughed and patted your hand. Mingi sat on your other side and rested his elbow on the table, leaning his head against his palm.

“Guys, you all just find a way to scare her every time. She is still adjusting with us in this new place. Don’t do this.”

They all laughed it off lightly when Yunho greeted you back. Some laughs were pure genuine but not more than a chuckle and some were fake. You turned your attention to Jongho who was explaining to you about their previous discussion and why Hongjoong brought you there all of a sudden. The meeting is confidential and Seonghwa had some other issues up there so he arranged for the meeting on this floor.

Jongho again added, “and that’s why Seonghwa arranged this sudden meeting for us. We need to deal with overseas companies.”

Jongho should be on your list as well as Mingi.

Only they seem normal to you.

“Okay, enough of that. We are not here for some bullshit. There’s a lot more than this.” Hongjoong clapped his hand and gestured to everyone to take a seat around the table.

Tch. As if he is not a part of that bullshit.

You looked around the table when Jongho was updating you about everything that had happened since morning. There was no response from Yunho yet after the short greet and you could see his lost eyes still staring back at you when he suddenly smiled at you.

I want to talk to you, Yunho.

The meeting started.

Why do you feel as if you are in danger? They are caring for you yet you want to run away.

Basically, you were just sitting and listening to them. You were noting down some important points and sometimes, Mingi helped you to add when you were missing out on some. You highlighted some of their approaches in between and Hongjoong and Seonghwa were too impressed with your participation. Mingi even offered you a bottle and patted your back for your good work.

At the end of the meeting, everyone turned towards you, finally fully acknowledging your presence.

Jongho placed a hand on your thigh, “what were you doing at the cafeteria? Usually, you come to my cabin when you are free.”

You nodded slowly, “I was chatting with Star. We met after so long.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, beside Yunho, “you both seem so close. How?”

“she is the only girl I could find friendly here. She is nice.” He nodded at your words, exchanging a quick look with Hongjoong. “Um…Can I ask you something?”

He nodded and others also gave their attention to you. You smiled, clearing your mind and forgetting everything for a moment, “Can I go on a trip with Star?”

You waited for a reply … hoping for a positive one. There was not a single voice, not even a single movement. They were staring at you. Did you say something rude? Can’t you leave your work? But there isn’t any important stuff in near future as per the schedule.

Yunho stood up, he was going to say something when Hongjoong abruptly stood up and cut him off.

“Yes. You can.”

Hongjoong shot a cold look towards Yunho and nodded his head towards you.

You thanked him and smiled widely, your eyes were sparkling and MIngi and Jongho on either side of you were too happy to see you so excited. They could feel that you were genuinely smiling so much and you really wanted to go on this trip.

Even though the atmosphere on both the sides of the table were far different from each other. Jongho and MIngi were happy and excited. But San beside Jongho was observing the ones on the other side. He knew the look on their face was not good. He casted a glance towards Hongjoong, he was staring at you.

To his front, Yeosang was glaring at the said man, he was not happy for some reason. He clutched the paper in his hand and breathed heavily. Wooyoung and Yunho’s expressions were blank and lost and he was aware of the obvious reason.

Mingi grabbed your hand when Seonghwa declared the end of the meeting and took you somewhere he wanted to show you on this floor, basically he wanted to show you around. Jongho trailed behind him.

As soon as the door shut behind you three.

Seonghwa glared towards Hongjoong, “what was that?”

“I know.” he sighed, meeting the rest of their gazes, “I need to talk to you all.”

NEXT

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@mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @brrrkdslek-personal @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @luhwaine @ilove-taeyong @dinonuguaegi @endeav0rsb1tch @loveforred @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @sousydive @aliona124754 @tunaasan @iykyunho

(open! dm me/ send ask/reply here)

[atiny-desire]

Warning Sign

Pairing: Yandere! San x Reader

Summary: San has to punish you once again.

Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: I'm in no way condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting this kind of behavior. This is not supposed to represent San in any way.

Warning: Yandere behavior, manipulation, abusive relationship, kidnapping, blood, murder, gore

◇◇◇

"Why are you hiding sweetheart?" His voice dripping with false sweetness rang through your shared bedroom. What a stupid question, he knew why. "Where are you?~" He also knew where you were. The closet was your only hiding option, but he liked playing with you. He knew that you were watching him through the small slits of the closet door, carefully observing his every move.

San finally settled down at the edge of the bed, after he paced around the room, pretending to search for you. He was directly facing the closet now. One corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk as he leaned back on both of his hands. His head cocked to the side when he said, "Do I really have to count to three?" A few strands of his black hair fell into his eyes with the movement of his head.

In your eyes, he looked like the devil himself. However, he was good at hiding who he truly was. You would have never guessed that he could be so cruel when you first met him. You were, just like everyone else, blinded by his beauty, his charming and funny attitude, the soft look in his eyes, and the cute dimples that showed on both of his cheeks whenever he smiled. It was a painful awakening when you had to find out that this was all a facade to hide how truly rotten he was on the inside.

He sighed after there was still no sign of you showing yourself. San didn't want to force you to come to him, he preferred it when you came to him on your own accord. "We have a visitor are you going to let him wait?" You felt your stomach drop. You heard this before, it was the very first time he killed someone in front of you. The vivid memories flooded your brain against your will, you tried your best to push them away but your helpless attempt was useless. It was as if those memories were tattooed inside your brain, unable to fade away as long as you lived.

You could still feel the sensation of fear, his crushing presence behind you, his hand caressing your cheek, and his warm breath by your ear as he talked to you. "Was it worth it?" He asked while both of you stared at what was in front of you.

A man, strapped to a chair and gagged. His eyes were wide and panicked, silently begging San to spare his life but San's attention was more on you than on him. "Take a look at what you did. Was it worth it?"

You didn't know what San was talking about but you did recognize the man. Earlier that day, you and San went out for a walk, at some point you decided to take a break and San went to get something to drink. This man approached you while he was away and asked you for directions to the cinema. He was gone before San came back but you could tell by the change in his mood that he had seen you talking to another man.

"Why are you doing this? I didn't do anything!"

You heard how San scoffed behind you. "Of course, you didn't, you never do anything wrong, right?" He circled around you to stand in front of you, his brows were furrowed and anger sparked in his dark eyes. "It's always everyone else's fault, isn't it."

"But not this time." His hand was wrapped around your neck before you could try to defend yourself. "You'll take responsibility for your actions!" He tightened his grip around your throat, and a small smirk crept on his lips as he heard you gasp for air. Your hands were trying to pry his from your throat but it was impossible, tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes, from both, the lack of oxygen and the realization that he could just take your life right now if he wanted to.

"I... didn't do anything!" You managed to get a few words out while still struggling to breathe. Most of it was incomprehensible but San didn't need to understand all of it to know what you were trying to say.

He scoffed and lowered the pressure on your neck a bit, despite your belief he didn't want to kill you, he just wanted to intimidate you, show you that your life was his, and he decided if you got to live or not. "Oh yeah? But I saw you talking to him after I told you multiple times not to talk to other men."

San let out a sigh and removed his hand from you. "Just so you know, I don't want to do this but you leave me no other choice." He turned around to look at the restrained man, who immediately started tugging on his restraints.

Everything after that felt like it was done in slow motion. San had raised a knife, which you didn't even notice earlier, to the man's throat, and for a split second did you start to doubt yourself. Was it really your fault? Maybe you could have prevented this.

"One." Just in time, before you could think about the most traumatic event of your life, you heard San's voice.

There was no point in dragging this out any longer. You slowly opened the closet door, just to be greeted by the smug smirk of your so called boyfriend. "Come here." You obeyed, like always. San knew he had a reason why he chose you, you were just so... easy to control. He liked that. He liked being in control.

You came to a halt in front of him but the distance between you was too big for San. He put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer, so you had to stand between his legs. "I'm sure you know who it is, right?" He waited a bit to see if you had something to say before he continued, "And I'm sure you also know why I have to do this."

The silence after that was deafening, the atmosphere was thick, weighing down on you as if someone was trying to push you down. You wanted to give in, lie down, close your eyes, and open them again to find out that you were just dreaming. You never met San. Your friends, which you had driven away under San's influence, were still there. "Come on say something. I want to hear your pretty voice." His voice again, mockingly reminding you that this was in fact not a dream.

'This was your own fault', San told you this on a daily basis and you started to believe him. After all, you were the one who quit your job, you were the one who cut contact with your family and you were the one to drive your friends away from you. San was the only thing left in your life, without him you would be nothing. "I love you."

San smiled, showing off his white teeth and the dimples on his cheeks. "Of course you do." He didn't say that he loved you too. He stood up and forced you a few steps backward to make room for him. "But that doesn't save you from being punished."

He lifted his hands from your hips to your face, they were warm almost hot against your skin. San gave you a quick kiss before he said, "Now let's go to the living room."

You nodded, you had no choice but to follow him. The sight in your living room was dreadful, a man was strapped to a chair, his eyes were wide and panicked. Just like the first time. San made you stand in front of him, he himself moved to the man's side with a knife firm in his grasp. "Now be good sweetheart.~ Don't look away, or we'll have to repeat this!"

Your memories and reality began to overlap. It was exactly the same as the first time. San moved the knife to his victim's throat and with a quick motion, it was done. Blood streamed from the gash and the man started to gargle and choke on his own blood. Those noises sometimes followed you into your dreams too. It felt like an eternity until he finally stopped breathing. The blood was pooling beneath him on the laminated floor.

"I hope you learned your lesson now." San stepped between you and the dead man. He blocked your view but he couldn't block those images in your head, of the men who stared at you as they were dying, begging for your help with just their eyes.

You nodded again. "I did."

"Good." His hand found its way to your cheek again. The blood that stained his hand was now smeared on your face too, you wanted to move away from his touch but you didn't dare to do it.

"I love you, San."

San's handsome face was once again lit up by one of his devilish smiles. "I know."

[kiwi-solace]

Devotion’s Fall (Teaser)

Brief: While living may not be as easy and comfortable as many, it was just fine to Y/n. Resigning herself to the circumstances, she’s come to accept her life and the future. When assisting a friend in attending the annual party of the kingdom’s prized royalty in finding their final soulmate for the first time, she expects a few days of playing pretend of what she wishes to be. But one should always be careful with the words you speak into the world.

Word Count: 993

Warnings: moderate injury, yandere (you know the drill), controlling behavior

A/N: Would you believe me if I said this was supposed to be finished in March? Btw Italics are not being spoken out loud! It’s in her head that’s all. Anyways, feel free to message me (￣∇￣)

...

Keep moving.

That’s all she could think of as she navigated through the dense forest that surrounded the kingdom’s domain. Seeking safety was top priority even if it brought her further away from a place she almost called home. 

Dodging the various roots and vines of the forest floor had taken a toll on her bare feet. There was no time to care about something as simple as shoes when there was rarely a moment of opportunity for this getaway. Deluded were she, to ignore the signs and fall victim to their sweet nothings and reassurances. There had to be a catch. It was stark in hindsight.

Lungs has since yelled for her user to stop for a simple break, but that’s too much of a luxury to afford for the situation, let alone being in a simple nightgown. The alarm bells keep the adrenaline pumping, knowing you only had a small headstart. You can hear the storming footsteps behind you even on this stormy night. The thunder unable to drown out those sent after you–those coming after you themselves. They’re getting too close for comfort.

“Find her now! If you come back without her you’ll have bigger problems to deal with than finding a mere human.” 

“We’re tired of this game of cat and mouse love.”

“It’s too dangerous outside for you— stop running.” 

There it was. Those damned commands they started using within you. Their blood is the cause of this. The entire connection is cursed. Why had she been chosen for not just one, but eight creatures that have sought not just her heart, but her unconditional love and obedience. 

Fighting the command with all her might slowed down her pace, a splitting headache begins in dismay of her disobeying. I will listen to you no more.

Being within a 50 mile radius of just one of them— let alone the eight of them— was more dangerous than the outside world. It’s sunshine and rainbows compared to them. With that thought, she attempts to speed up once again, only to trip on a slippery root infront of her beyond the kingdom’s wall. While the rain did aid in masking her scent with its downpour, it came to be her downfall when traversing haphazardly. It mocks her really. To know that you’re so close to being free from their jurisdiction, but even then there’s only one question: what happens? She laughs to herself at the thought. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or she’s losing it completely, but what’s to stop their pursuit even after fleeing the kingdom. They’ve proven to know no bounds when it comes to getting their way. Manipulation. Lies. Murder. It’s nothing new.

Groaning from the fall and newly acquired bruises, she attempts to get up again only to give out as another command is forced through. “Stop Now.” 

Everything begins to hurt as you try to resist again, but it’s futile. Finally, with her knees to the grown and head hung, she stops. 

Things never went accordingly. From your failure in aiding your friend in being chosen all the way to the hell that was to come as being the “missing piece” in this kingdom’s royal bloodline. It’s a curse. She doesn’t know who she wronged in life to be given such circumstances, but they succeeded in making her life miserable and seemingly temporary.

This was never her wish. Her words were twisted from a mere joke. It just goes to show how a person should always be careful with what they put out into the world. She can hear the gods laughing at her.

“Surround the area, I’m approaching!” Not like I can move.

She knows she won’t be let off easily this time being caught. Feigning innocence isn’t possible in this situation when knowingly disobeying the commands of her lovers— the king and his seven princes. The very beings responsible for the well-being of the kingdom and its prosperity.

Beings that promised when they found their missing bond, would they cherish and take care of them wholeheartedly. They’d know nothing except leisure and comfort as they delivered on their word of giving them the love they deserved. Thinking back, is this what she deserved? Tension, anger, exhaustion, skittish, helplessness—all things you’ve felt since your life had been uprooted from its natural continuance of a humble life.

“What did I deserve?” She spoke to no one.

Death seems to be the only way out from here. Her humanity a reminder that she still has something against them—something she can proudly claim. A way out. Maybe she should’ve been one of the many men and women throwing themselves at them. It looks like they got the better end of the stick with just dealing with rejection rather than this. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, she brings her knees to her chest slowly so as to not disturb her injury and rests her forehead atop her knees. The rain still pelting around her seemed to mask the approaching footsteps, or maybe she just didn’t care anymore. There’s no time to decide which one it is when said figure crouches beside her and places a hand on her shoulder.

“Did you finish your little adventure?”

Yeosang. It wasn’t said aloud, either to let the others into the conversation through their connection or because he knew she wouldn’t reply verbally. She didn’t care.

Met by silence, Yeosang sighs before repositioning himself to lift up his prize as the fragile princess he believes she is. The trek back wouldn’t take too long for him even with her in his arms.

“As much as we love you, you know the others will not let this go so easily,” he said out loud knowing it didn’t matter if there was a reply. Effective enough, the threat alone made her shiver because she knew what was waiting for her back in the castle would be the final descent into madness they’d want. Full compliance.

Their heaven, her soon to be hell.

[appleofthemoon]

have you heard? rumour has it that Choi San beat up someone after they hit on his crush, the boy that hit on San's crush went missing soon after! I think the boy going missing has to do something with Choi San...

w. blackmail, toxic workplace

ugh, men and their disappearing acts.

he's the third one who's gone missing this month, shouldn't the hr department be suspicious about this? oh right, they're never bothered to investigate such matters unless the higher-ups order them to. stupid leeches, maybe the owner should look into laying them off so there'll be more resources (and bonuses) for the other departments who deserve it.

i'd ask darling to suggest it during the quarterly executives' meeting but san's always too close for me to do it. he's so clingy, always hovering around our boss whenever he can. san enjoys acting like an angel, but the glare he gives everyone who's "too close" is anything but innocent.

i swear, if he doesn't stop giving me that look every time i go to darling's office to hand over reports, he won't like what i plan to do to him. of course i'm confident about this; san's not the only one who knows how illusions and tricks work.

with one click, the magician's secret to performing his best trick will be unveiled.

feel free to check out the other rumors !

[holybibly]

𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔱 | Mingi x reader

Pairing: Professor Mingi x cam girl | student reader Summary: You hated Professor Song Mingi wholeheartedly. He was young, successful, too handsome to benefit himself, and сonfident as the devil himself. The living embodiment of all your red flags - 10 out of 10 on the "rich, narcissist, idiot" list. At the same time, Song Mingi was the sexiest, most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. But what will you do when Professor Song discovers your dirty little secret? And that he might be too interested in giving you a private lesson in good manners? Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, University!AU, Sex Work!AU, Non-idol!AU, sugar daddy, student х teacher, forbidden relationships, cam girl. Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 10.3 k Warnings: Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play, spanking, orgasm delay, sex toys (dildo, sex machine), sex work and more. net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: This ff has been in my drafts for a very long time and was supposed to be a really sweet "gift" for my bunnies. But for various reasons, it didn't turn out the way I had planned, and I'm personally not entirely happy with what I've written. But I tried too hard, so I'm posting it. I hope that the bunnies will be pleased with the amount of debauchery and lust that I am about to offer you.

Bunnies, Professor Song is waiting for you in the lecture hall.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity

The real life of a student is not always as fun and glamorous as it might seem at first glance. If you think university life is an endless whirlwind of parties and passionate romances, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Student life is nothing more than tonnes of homework, endless stress, and litres of coffee, which you probably drink on an empty stomach because you've been up all night studying for the next 'ultra-important' lesson, and of course impossibly annoying and boring professors who seem to be just waiting for the moment to ruin your life. So when there was an announcement at the beginning of the new term that your group would have a new French literature professor, you were completely oblivious. Your previous professor had been a boring, retired man with an unhealthy obsession with young female students and cigarettes who always left his classroom reeking of tobacco, so you didn't expect much from another 'amazing' professor. But, God, you were wrong. Professor Song Mingi was maybe, just maybe, the most handsome and attractive man you had ever seen in your life. With his elegant and chiselled features, he could definitely pass for a haute couture model. His body was an art form in itself and the hottest topic of discussion in the entire university, not only among the crowd of blushing girls in love but also among the female faculty members. 

The way his perfectly pressed classic shirts fit his broad-shouldered, muscular body and the tight, expensive fabric of his pants tightened over his thick, juicy thighs, outlining every muscle, could leave no one indifferent, and even you gave in to the temptation of checking his Instagram profile, especially on lonely evenings. In your defence, you weren't the only one who started fondling herself when thinking of Professor Song Mingi. After all, how could you resist when the man was literally a walking list of the categories on Pornhub? But while Professor Song was a wet dream come to life, he was also the biggest jerk you've ever met. And there were more than a few of them. He was 10 out of 10 on your red flag list: arrogant, narcissistic, annoying, and impossibly self-centred. The world seemed to revolve around him as he looked down on everyone from his lofty perch. 

Seriously, every time you thought he couldn't be more handsome and sexy, Mingi would rush out to prove otherwise, driving everyone around him crazy, but in the process, you found even more horrible traits that both excited you and made you hate him with all your heart. 

And it seemed that you weren't the only one to feel hatred and resentment, as Professor Song, for reasons unknown to you, decided to make your life a living hell, infuriating you with his every word and action. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't live up to Mingi's high standards, and you always ended up at the very bottom of his class. In all seriousness, the man treated you as if he had the proverbial stick in his arse 24 hours a day. But God, that arse, if you had the chance, you would have loved to sink your teeth into it. It was juicy and firm, and it just created an irresistible urge to hold it in your palms and pull his body closer as Professor Song fucked you hard into the mattress. All in all, if Mingi had been able to hold his lectures standing with his back to the students all the time, as a good student, you would have wanted a seat in the front row, but hell, that was a pipe dream because Professor Song Mingi found a new way to drive you to hysteria every time. 

It was really fucked up; you were rewriting your report for the third time, and it looked like you were going to keep on doing it for an indefinite amount of time. It didn't matter to Professor Song that everyone who read your report praised what you said and thought or that you spent a lot of time writing it, sacrificing sleep and nerve cells. But it seemed that nothing could live up to Mingi's standards, which no mortal could ever hope to reach—except for himself, of course. 

"Your report lacks depth and understanding of the subject; I'm afraid you weren't paying enough attention while I lectured, Y/N. Did you have more important things to do than listen? Your report is not very good for a student in the third year. I am going to have to ask you to make significant changes; otherwise, you will not be able to pass in my class. Don't let me down this time, or I'll have to take even more serious measures against you."

As if all you ever thought about was being a good girl for him, slobbering all over him, and giving him obedient nods. He can go fuck himself. You hated Song Mingi so much. 

French literature was always the first class of the day on a Friday, and it was absolutely terrible. After listening to Professor Song lecture for two hours in his deep, pornographic voice, you usually spend the rest of the day looking grumpy and depressed. And to top it all off, Mingi decided to wear one of his most stunning black designer classic shirts today, in which he unbuttoned a few buttons so that everyone around him could admire his stunningly smooth skin, which you wanted to lick. You swear that this man is a true spawn of hell, sent to earth to be your tormentor and sexual frustration. Needless to say, as well as he ruining your mood, your panties were hopelessly ruined by the sticky juices that tickled your labia whenever you moved. 

"Good, at least this day is finally over."  You mutter tiredly to yourself as you enter the dormitory that you share with your best friend, who you can't seem to see anywhere at the moment, which is understandable since it's Friday.

Shit, it's Friday; how could you forget it? Damned Professor Song Mingi. You forgot you were supposed to be streaming tonight because you were so caught up in the whole situation. 

You hadn't planned to do this all along. It was just a one-time thing to pay off some debts, but money is a real drug that you get addicted to too quickly. But it wasn't just the money; it was the attention. The huge amount of attention you got from your followers was so sweet and exciting that it was impossible to refuse. So, like most other poor girls, it was no surprise that you got sucked into sex work and webcamming too quickly. It was good money that paid your way through university and your way of life without much thought for the future. You received thousands of comments from people who were desperate to fuck that pretty pink cunt of yours, as they had always told you, or to do many other lewd and horrible things to you. You weren't ashamed to admit that you had always been an attention whore, and their words and praise made you want more. It gave you confidence in your body and gave you immense power over those on the other side of the screen, just because of your well-groomed little cunt.

With an excited smile on your face, you walk to your room and remember the package that was delivered to you this morning. A very special gift that you are hoping will be the highlight of this evening's stream. You give a slight squeak as you see a beautiful black box made of heavy, expensive cardboard sitting in the middle of your bed, with a small envelope on top of it. You pick it up, sit down on the bed, and bite your plump lower lip in anticipation. The envelope looks like it came from one of those books of gothic literature that you love so much. It's as black as the box it came in, with a blood-red wax seal in the middle.

As you carefully remove the seal, revealing the small note inside, your whole body subconsciously warms.

"I hope this will make you think of me, doll." Le Maître 

The white ink on the black matte paper looks too formal, and you're a little disappointed that the note isn't handwritten. But just to be on the safe side, there's no hint as to who the mysterious sender of the parcel might be. After all, for your own safety, you had to accept the parcel under a made-up pseudonym. 

Le Maître. You practically squealed like a schoolgirl when this user first appeared in your paid private chatroom after one of your streams. There were a few other people there, but Le Maître was different; he was regal and bossy to you despite the fact that he paid to jerk off on your body. He was your number one viewer, attending every stream, sending you huge amounts of money, and complimenting and praising you. By now, you can definitely see that you've developed an unhealthy obsession with praise ever since the first time he referred to you as his "good girl."

Just a few days ago, he sent you a text message saying that he wanted to do something special for you—a little gift in celebration of the fact that your account now has over 25,000 subscribers. The gorgeous gift box on your lap is a special gift, and you have an inkling of what's inside the decadent scarlet corrugated paper. You impatiently rifle through the layers of wrapping paper and gasp when you see what you have received—a little sex machine. As you inspect the shiny, erotic pleasure device, you notice a small piece of paper attached to the sturdy, mechanical body of the machine.  "A special gift for my angel, who already has more than 25,000 subscriptions. You are such a sweet girl. Please use it in your next stream so your Maître can see it. P.S. I have a controller, Dolly."

You swallow loudly, feeling a nervous shiver run through your body and heat build in the pit of your stomach; you're sure your pussy is already wet with a strangely arousing anticipation, juices dripping down the quivering folds onto your lace panties. Fuck, he's really going to fuck you, thanks to this sex machine. Your attention will be drawn to the large dildo that is attached to the mechanism. It's thick and long, with lots of veins running down the shaft, mimicking the swollen veins on a real cock. It's cold and textured to the touch, and you can imagine how shiny and smooth it will be when your cum runs down it. You squeeze your thighs together in excitement, looking forward to using it tonight and putting on a show for your audience that they won't forget for a very long time. You put your 'gift' to one side and get out of bed to get ready for your weekly stream. 

"Hello, bunnies! Are you ready for this evening?" You chirp, your voice sweet and luscious with a slightly childish, innocent tone, as you shyly rub the strap of your sheer lace lingerie. "Tonight I'm going to show you something different from my usual show; as you all know, by now I've reached 25,000 followers." You fidget slightly on the bed, twirling a strand of your long hair around your finger. You purse your lips, knowing that the shimmering lip gloss makes your mouth look just fuckable. 

The mini-sex machine is standing on a pouffe out of the camera's view, and you take a deep breath to calm your excitement before you lean closer to the camera so that everyone can see your face and how plump and juicy your tits look in that bra. Luckily, this site doesn't allow screenshots and will quickly ban any user who dares to do so; otherwise, you could be in big trouble. 

"You're all so nice to me; you deserve to enjoy my face. Today,  I'd like to be a little closer to you. Don't I look especially pretty today?" 

One by one, the comments come in, and you giggle at everyone's excitement. 

"Goddamn, you're beautiful." "I want to cum on that pretty face of yours, baby."  "Your face is making me so horny, sweetie." "These lips are made to suck cock." "You're so pretty; are you going to be an obedient kitty for Daddy?"

We all have our own dirty little secret that we carefully hide, and it happened that the secret of the seemingly arrogant and fastidious Professor Song Mingi was that his regular nightly routine involved watching livestreams of pretty webcam girls with small, tight pussies. A man has needs; sue him for that, and being so busy with work and surrounded by a crowd of hormonal, giggling university students every day, he doesn't have the time or energy to find a connection. And Mingi doubted that anyone could satisfy his sexual appetite. He had always been overly demanding in everything he did, and sex was no exception. Mingi wanted to find a perfect little doll who he could fuck and spoil as much as he wanted; he needed a sweet mouth and free access to a tiny pussy, and in return, he would be happy to give the cute doll his black credit card.

One evening, he found one who immediately caught his attention, and not just because of her pretty, juicy tits and doll-like, shiny mouth, while he was browsing through the numerous profiles of various girls. You were so adorable and innocent-looking, but completely slutty. It was an instant match made in heaven for Mingi. Imagine his surprise when he saw you the first day he started working at the university. You were his student, his sweet little student, the girl he had shameless fantasies about all the time. He thought that he should feel disgusted with himself, or at least ashamed, but to be honest, Mingi didn't care; your cunt was pink and tight, and that was enough to make him forget all sense of decency.

Mingi doesn't know how he feels about it, but the way his cock gets hard just at the sight of you means he'll be getting his money's worth and enjoying the show. His classic black shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his embossed abs and golden, luscious skin dripping with sweat. He unzips his trousers and pulls out his big, throbbing cock, which jerks at the sight of you in the slutty lingerie you have bought with his money. He hisses softly, biting his plump lower lip, his eyes fixed on the cleft between your tits. Mingi desperately wants to fuck your breasts.

"Someone very special has sent me a beautiful gift, my darlings, and I am definitely going to make use of it today." Your cheeks are burning from all the lewd comments, but it is only turning you on more and more, making your pussy even wetter and more needy.

You sit down on the bed, bend down until you can't see the chatter, and pull the ottoman between your legs to the edge of the bed. The sound of the incoming tips becomes loud and constant as soon as the erotic device appears in the frame.

Mingi slowly strokes his thick, veiny member with his hand, clutching the small sex machine controller in his other large hand. He can't help but wonder what it would be like to be the one to destroy your pretty pussy with his cock. His dark eyes bore into yours as he bit down hard on his lower lip and used the pad of his thumb to circle the already-leaking red head of his cock. If only he were able to fuck you right now.

You take a bottle of vanilla lube and smear it on the dildo, moaning loudly as you run your hand from the base to the head several times, tracing the ridges with your fingers to simulate veins, imagining that this is the dick of a certain professor. God, you hate and adore Professor Song at the same time; he is the star of all your most depraved and vulgar fantasies, which is why you always cum so hard and profusely. Fortunately, when you collapse during your orgasm, you have enough control over your mouth to keep from moaning his name.

With your other hand, you pull your pretty panties aside and run your fingers through your wet folds, spreading them slightly and showing off your wetness.

"Fuck, your pussy is so nice." "You've played with yourself before; you're already so wet." "Give me a lick of your pussy, angel."

The comments go on and on, as do the messages about the tips while you are gently massaging your pussy. You close your eyes, bite your lip and let out a soft moan as the pad of your middle finger makes contact with your sensitive clit.

"Damn it, I wish I could have your fingers playing with my pussy right now," you whine. Your free hand pulls down your bra straps, exposing your breasts to the camera, your nipples hardening with growing pleasure. You take the nipple between your fingers and gently twist and pull at it. Your pussy is leaking, the transparent, viscous mucus enveloping your fingers, making them shiny and smooth, and running down your milky thighs, leaving a wet, cold trail.

You imagine Professor Song's long fingers penetrating you, stretching your tight hole, and preparing you for the insertion of his dick into your pussy. Mingi has breathtakingly beautiful hands—wide palms, thick, long fingers, always adorned with rings and bracelets. Fuck, just to feel those rings inside you, pressing against the silky hot walls of your pussy, you would do anything. You circle your fingers around the wet, quivering edge of your hole before you slip two fingers inside, your soft walls tightening around them in an instant. Your other hand stops playing with your nipples and reaches out for the toy that is about to fuck you to death.

Your breathing becomes uneven, your chest rising and falling with your moans and gasps. Your fingers run over the silky walls of your pussy a couple of times before you start to fuck yourself to death at a fast and furious pace. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stick out your tongue and let it drip onto your naked tits.

You know the effect you have on your audience; they love seeing someone so sweet and angelic looking like a slutty whore, and to get more praise and tips, you pull your fingers out of your cunt and slap your pussy with them. The loud signal of the incoming tip is echoed by the wet, disgusting sound of your hand touching your skin.

"Oh daddy, I want your cock so bad; my pussy is throbbing for you," you say. You hold your fingers up to the camera to show how wet they are with your slick. "I'm such a sweet Daddy; I want you to eat me up. I promise I'll come on your tongue like a good girl." You put your fingers in your mouth; you lick them, suck them, and slurp around them. The moans you make sound more like whimpering than something soft and melodic.

On the other side of the screen, Mingi is moaning in a guttural way as he leans back in the big leather chair in his home office, squeezing and massaging his balls as he enjoys the wet slurping sounds that you are making. His cock is pressed against his hard belly, the viscous pre-cum dripping from the head of it and flowing between the reliefs of his abs. His eyes roll back in his head as he imagines fucking your cunt with his nimble fingers, stretching your tight little hole in preparation for his hard fucking. You will be moaning loudly and writhing as your juices flood his hand and run down his sinewy forearm.

You get on your knees on the bed and adjust the toy so that it's right in front of your dripping hole, holding your knickers so that they don't block the view of your pussy. You are already looking so messed up. A long string of mucus is coming out of your hole, straight onto the toy, and the strokes are coming in at a crazy rate. You look straight into the camera with your big innocent eyes; your lips are pouting sweetly. Mingi hisses at this, grabs his dick, and squeezes it several times. The fingers of his other hand are flicking the switch on the controller of the sex machine.

"Please, sir, I've been such a good girl for you. Are you going to fuck me now?" You are licking your lips with the tip of your tongue, and you are lowering your pussy down onto the artificial dick. The silicone is cold and smooth, and the contrast in temperature between it and your hot pussy makes you moan loudly and for a long time.

Mingi growls, the desire coursing through him as he hears the respectful title that falls from your plump lips, in the same way that you address him as "Sir" in class when you turn up for his lecture, and it drives him mad. He turns the dial, and the car comes to life and begins to move. Your eyes lose their focus, and your mouth falls open as the toy begins to move inside of you. Your fingers spread your labia, and you show the audience how the dildo is slowly stretching your tight little hole. The size of the toy is huge, despite the artificial penis being cold and lifeless, but that doesn't change the fact that it is tearing you apart. Your legs tremble as you try to maintain a stable position on the bed. Your toes curl as you begin to play with your swollen, sensitive clit, stimulating yourself further and causing more of the sticky, slippery fluid to gush out of you.

Mingi watched intently through the screen as you writhed and moaned; the toy was finally buried completely inside you, and he could see its impressive size causing your belly to bulge. Damn it! He can bet his bottom dollar that the silicone head of the dick is in direct contact with your cervix. When he sees how greedily your cunt swallows the toy, his predatory dark eyes flash, and he swallows noisily. You can take his cock like a good girl, and he'll see to it that it happens soon. Even though this toy is much bigger than any you've fucked your cunt with in previous streams, Mingi doesn't give you time to get used to its size. But he knows that in reality, you are an absolute slut who lives for the cock and that you can easily take anything that is given to you.

The sex machine picks up speed, and you scream loudly as you feel the fake veins on the dildo drag along the walls of your body with every mechanical movement—your hands cupping and massaging your breasts, your fingers pinching your swollen nipples. The pleasure coursing through your veins, your moans growing louder by the minute, and your head falling back. Your thoughts turn to Professor Song, of course.

God, that man—the way your body has reacted to him has been completely abnormal. Professor Song Mingi is an absolute asshole, and all he does is bully you and ruin your grades. But fuck, you wanted it so much—to destroy your pussy with his dick. You hate every part of his gorgeous appearance—that stupid long hair, a weird shade of orange that looks damn good on him, those sharp fox eyes that always look at you with judgement. There's such disgust and contempt in his eyes; it's like he's saying, "You're a worthless whore," and God, you really want him to address you like that, especially in that porn voice that makes your pussy leak.

Under your fingers, what will his hair feel like? Will it be as soft to the touch as it is to the eye? What will his eyes be like? Will they be filled with unbridled hunger as his long, slick tongue flicks across your clit? Will his deep voice vibrate against your skin as he moans softly and tastes you in his mouth? Will his big, rough hands be gripping your hips, digging their fingers into the soft flesh until you're bruised and scratched, holding you still as he buries his face in your cunt as if he couldn't live without it for a single day? All these vivid erotic images flash through your brain, the constant beeping of the donors just background noise as you imagine your professor's deep, velvety voice commanding you to cum.

"Wish you could fuck me now. Oh fuck! Please, sir, fuck your pretty little doll properly." You moan loudly as the speed of the sex machine increases, all the words blending together. The whirring sound of the machine synchronises with the rapid beating of your heart as the silicone cock thrusts into you, lewd squelching fills the room, and your moans and cries become longer and more pitiful, like a cat in heat, as your orgasm begins to build rapidly.

"Oh sir, I'm thinking about the way your dick is sliding between my legs. Is it as thick and as big as this toy? Are you going to feed your doll with your cum?"

There are few things in this world that can make Professor Song Mingi lose his balance, but the sight of his cute little student fucking her dripping, plump cunt with the toy he has given her is definitely the one thing that makes his jaw drop. You are fucking beautiful, a real doll that Mingi would like to sit on a velvet cushion in his house and admire like a work of art. He knows you're about to come—your cheeks are flushed, your lips are parted in a perfect orgasmic "oh,"  your trembling little hand reaches for your clit to rub the throbbing bundle of nerves and bring you to the desired climax, and your eyes are so closed you can hardly see.

Mingi's hand glides a little faster over his dick; it's slippery and shiny with the sperm that leaks out of it. At the same pace as you rub your aching clit, Mingi makes sharp, quick circles with his palm around his cock.

"Fuck!" Mingi growls as he grips the arm of the chair and pushes his hips into his hand, the massive bracelets around his wrist clanking as his hand comes down hard on his cock. As the sex machine fucks you hard and fast at top speed, the controller is forgotten on the table next to his laptop. Your piercing moans are music to his ears, and the way your thighs subtly tremble shows the immense pleasure he is indirectly giving you. Your head is thrown back, exposing your neck, and your hips roll on the toy, the juices from your vagina running down your ass and soaking the sheets beneath you, your juicy, plump tits bouncing with the movement of the sex machine.

"Sir, Daddy, please! Can I cum for you? Please let me come for you! I've been such a good girl for you!" You are shaking all over, your orgasm is growing stronger with each passing second, and you know that it is going to be amazing. The palm of your hand is slapping your pussy again, and the sounds of tipping over are coming with renewed force. What fucking perverts!

When he realises the effect he is having on you without even touching you, a tingle runs down Mingi's spine. He has complete control over your orgasm, and you will do whatever he wants without him interfering in your real life.

"Come for me, my doll." His voice is dark and deep, despite the force with which he fucks his hand, the leather chair creaking from the powerful thrusts of his thick, meaty thighs. As if you can hear him, you pinch your clit sharply and squeal deafeningly, your body shaking in small convulsions as you cum on a toy you imagine is Professor Song's dick. The walls of your pussy contract as you try to hold the fake cock inside you as you ride out your orgasm.

Mingi cum right after you, moaning gutturally, his eyes rolling back in his head as streams of cum spray onto his thighs and abs, his mind clouded by the orgasm, and he completely forgets that he hasn't turned off the toy that continues to mercilessly stuff your cunt. His attention is drawn back to you when he hears you squealing pitifully, the tears rolling down your face and smearing your make-up, and Mingi finds himself thinking that he would like to see the same look on your face when his dick is deep down in your throat.

"Oh my God, s-sir, turn it off! Please, I can't... Oh, bloody hell! Sir, I beg you..." You scream, the tears streaming freely down your face as the sex machine continues to fill your pussy with cock like there is no tomorrow, your hands gripping the sheets as the sensory overload washes over your body like a tidal wave.

Mingi looks at you with hunger and animal lust as he watches the toy abuse your used, dripping cunt. Of course, he could turn it off if he wanted to, but he doesn't because he knows that you could just lie back on the bed and put an end to your supposed agony, but you don't want to.

He gives you a devilish grin and licks his lips as he watches the fat tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you beg him to make it stop. Your whole body glistens with a subtle sheen of sweat, and as Mingi has watched your body countless times, he knows every reaction of yours—you will cum for him; he is sure of it.

"Oh god, damn, damn! I'm going to cum again, Daddy." You let out another loud squeal, your back arching as you come for the second time that night, and this time a clear stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy, soaking the sheets even more. The tipping sounds are louder than they were before, and if there was an audience in your room, they would definitely enjoy watching you squirt over and over again. Damn, you really put on a show for them that they won't forget in a hurry.

Mingi smiles with satisfaction and strokes his cock once more, this time prolonging his pleasure with lazy strokes as he watches you whimpering and twitching with the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm. He is kind enough to put an end to your torment by picking up the controller unit from the table and turning off the sex machine. The loud mechanical whirring ceases as the toy stops fucking you. You slowly rise from your seat, the thick dildo sliding out of your pussy—glossy and wet with your essence. You whimper quietly, still too sensitive, your chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths. The next thing you do is make Mingi sink teeth into his lower lip until it starts to bleed.

"Let me clean you, Daddy; you have been so good to me today. My cunt feels so warm and full." Your pretty, plump lips wrap around the fake cock's head, smacking sweetly before shoving the larger half of the toy into your mouth, sucking and licking with your tongue like a real cock. After tasting the juices running down the length of the silicone, you close your eyes and moan.

Your brain forms images of how you would do this to Mingi, choking on his cock, swallowing it to the base, tickling his balls with the tip of your tongue; sucking him like a good girl, licking every swollen vein along its huge velvety length, and you know Professor Song has a big, thick dick. You think about how he will grab your hips, slap your butt cheeks hard, and penetrate your needy, horny cunt with one hard thrust until his balls are slapping against your ass. Fuck, you really want Professor Song to destroy you, and this desire almost overshadows the hatred you feel for this man.

Snap back to reality, and you're practically crawling over to your laptop with innocent, tear-stained eyes before pulling the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and smiling brightly at the camera as if you hadn't just been ruined by a silicone dick. Your mouth is shiny and wet from a mixture of saliva, sticky pink lip gloss, and your juices.

"Fuck, that was so hot."

"I'd like you to splash on my cock as well, honey."

"Wow, baby, I didn't know you could do that. Will you squirt on my face if I pay you?"

"I want to cum in your cunt so bad, sweet cheeks, daddy must keep you full and pretty with his cum."

"You're so fucking beautiful, angel, I'll jerk off on your face every night."

"That was your best stream ever, princess."

All these comments are making you giggle. Men are really just horny animals; show them a nice pussy and they will be at your feet.

You spend some time interacting with the public, reading comments, and showing off your new toys and lingerie that you bought with the money you made from streaming. The cursor hovers over the bright red button, and before you press it to end the broadcast, you look straight into the camera, first slowly licking your lips, then slightly tilting your head to the side with the sweetest expression on your cute little face. It may seem that you are talking to all the viewers, but in fact you are talking to just one man, Le Maître.

"I hope you have enjoyed today's show, sir, and that you have had a lot of fun. But I really want you to use your real dick to make me cum and squirt so hard. I really, really want you to fuck me in real life, Daddy." You kissed and winked at everyone, and you finally finished your show.

Mingi couldn't sleep at all that night; after the show, he jerked off two or three more times, even using an artificial pussy, imagining he was fucking you instead of a cold silicone toy. He came so much that his cum was everywhere, even landing on his luxurious diamond-encrusted Rolex.

In contrast to your restless, overheated professor, you fell asleep almost immediately—tired and satisfied—from an amazing orgasm and from a huge amount of money that fell into your bank account after the stream had ended. Of course, your Le Maître was the biggest donor of all.

Next Friday

"I expect all of you to take this course more seriously and to have your homework done by Monday. From next week, there will be three more lectures on French literature in your course, so don't be a disappointment to me. The class is dismissed."

You sigh heavily, already anticipating the torment the extra pairings with Professor Song will bring you. Fuck, you hate him so much, but the sight of his thighs in those tight trousers should be illegal. That's a real crime against humanity. You gather your things and hope to get out of the stuffy lecture hall, which now always has the smell of pure sex—Professor Song's perfume. If you didn't know any better, you'd be thinking that the man was literally bathing in an aphrodisiac, because it's just not real to smell like that. You never thought you'd be turned on by someone else's perfume, but here we are, drooling on the floor at the incredibly sexy scent that Professor Song Mingi wears like a second skin. Sometimes you wonder: Does the bitch know how attractive he is? But he does, and he uses it to his advantage, judging by that smug, arrogant grin that always sits on those plump, sensual lips. 

You are just about to leave when you hear his deep, husky voice calling out your name. Oh no, not now. 

"I'd like to talk to you about your performance, Y/N." Mingi begins to speak slowly, stretching out the letters and putting emphasis on the last word. There is definitely a certain ambiguity in all this, which you can't quite make out. "What can you tell me about it?" He walks around his desk, leans his gorgeous butt against it, and crosses his arms over his chest. His poor shirt buttons try harder than the devil on a good day.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion and walk down the stairs, authematic, to be closer to him. Why is he asking you that now? Damn, he always finds the perfect time to throw you off balance. Your heart races, and you try to ground yourself, thinking about what an idiot he is and what strange things could be going on in that beautiful head of his. You struggled to read him; his stunning model face always had this arrogant royal expression that completely failed to convey his true feelings, so every time you talked to him, it was like playing with a big cat. 

"I think I'm all right, Sir. Why are you asking?" You stammer slightly, but when you hear Mingi's deep moaning, all your mental scolding about your nervousness quickly fades away. You stare at him with your eyes wide open in an attempt to comprehend what the hell is going on. Your eyes focus on Professor Song. The way your narcissistic jerk of a professor shamelessly adjusts his trousers, which now show a very noticeable bulge in his crotch.

Before you know it, you're standing right in front of him, and your nervousness has returned with a vengeance. He's even more handsome up close—classic glasses perched on the bridge of his perfect nose, his long fingers reaching up to remove them and place them on the table. He stares at you with his dark fox eyes, towering over your petite frame, as he carefully pulls the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, revealing the massive bracelets around his wrists and the bulging veins on his forearms. God, does he have any idea of the effect this has on you? Too afraid to look him in the eye, you cast a glance at the small cross around his neck.

"Yes, you're doing very well. Too well, actually, aren't you, Y/N?" As his thumb runs down your soft cheek, tracing the outline of your mouth lower until he slides it between your parted lips, you almost gasp and feel like you're going to faint. You don't hear anything but your heart pounding in your ears. It feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. You stare at him helplessly as he presses the pad of his finger against your tongue, stroking it lightly. A devilish grin appears on his plump lips, replacing his usual bitchy expression with something more sinister and dangerous. "Such a beautiful little dolly, aren't you? So skilled with your fingers, so good with that pretty little doll mouth of yours, and you definitely know how to serve that little cunt of yours perfectly." Mingi whispers as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching under your skirt and squeezing your bare bottom. Fuck, you definitely shouldn't have worn a thong today. "I'm sure you're playing with your sweet bottom, too, bunny." He continues to rub his thumb over your tongue for a few more moments, while his other hand gives your arse a hard massage that makes you squeal with pleasure. You're quite sure that the skin on your bottom is already red from his aggressive touch. As soon as Mingi stops touching you and pulls his hands away from you, crossing them over his broad chest, the situation comes back to you.

You are watching his every move, breathing heavily, letting your eyes glide over every pulsing vein on his forearms, and praying to God that you will have enough strength not to lean over and run the tip of your tongue over them. 

"P-Professor, I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about."

"Oh, darling, don't play innocent; you have a very clear idea of what I'm talking about. I'm really glad you found a good use for the gift I gave you last night, my angel." Professor Song's voice is a velvety whisper, and considering how quiet it is in the lecture theatre, he might as well have shouted, the meaning of his words ringing loudly in your ears. He's like a predator, slowly circling around you, the soles of his designer shoes clicking on the parquet floor. Your feet feel as if they are glued to the floor, and you don't know what to do. When you try to speak again, your voice sounds broken, and you are on the verge of tears. 

"Will there be a report against me, Professor Song? Or what? You haven't got any hard evidence that it's me." You say it with conviction, and hope springs, but unfortunately, it dies as soon as Mingi opens his mouth.

"That may be true, my dear. But you wouldn't want such terrible accusations to be made against you, would you? Mingi taunts you; his deep voice suddenly comes very close to your ear. You feel so unprotected in his presence, so tiny in comparison to his huge, tall body. Why does this man have to be so bloody big?

"They'll never know it was me who found your profile on the porn site; I could easily pass it off as an anonymous tip." You catch your breath as you feel his rough, hot hand slide under your skirt and up your thigh. Mingi smiles at your reaction and leans in closer to you, biting the lobe of your ear. "Besides, this is going to get rumoured around the university. People will be tempted to do a check on your account—people you know, people you might be close to." He goes on, the heat of his breath making you shiver. 

His broad palm grips your mound in a possessive way, the heat from your pretty pussy causing his cock to twitch in his trousers. You try to stifle a shameful moan, but the sound escapes you, and you unconsciously lean forward, pressing your breasts against him. Mingi wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he does so. Oh shit, your head is spinning from the smell of his perfume so close, and on top of everything else, you're ashamed to admit it, but your pussy is terribly wet, and you're pretty sure Professor Song can feel your wetness in the palm of his hand. 

"It may be illegal to screenshot, and your streamers will disappear, but what about the pictures and videos you've posted? Of course, everyone will be able to see your sexy little body all over the place. And don't you dare argue about it. You always look like a thirsty slut, wearing those tiny skirts and shoving your tits in everyone's face. You are a worthless little bitch." Professor Song hisses and presses the palm of his hand harder against your pussy, and you want to rub it against it so badly that it's almost pathetic.

Your tongue doesn't turn into an object; it's as if it were glued to the roof of your mouth. Mingi was right; you've always dressed rather provocatively, and it's never bothered you, but it seemed to bother him. 

"Either way, your name will still be in tatters, and my reputation will be perfect and clean, as it should be. I'm a respected professor with a model student. I'm not someone who watches a cam-girl stream every Friday night and watches how she stuffs a fake cock into her luscious little cunt." Wiping away a tear that has accidentally escaped your eye, Mingi's thumb runs down your cheek. Your vision is blurred by the tears, and the dark, lustful eyes of Professor Song are the only thing you can see clearly.

"Please tell me... What can I do to stop you from saying anything about me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, and your words are a useless string of letters. Mingi's eyes flash angrily at your whimpering plea.

"Ah angel, you sound even better in real life when you're begging." Mingi moans as his middle finger slowly rubs the folds of your folds through your panties, which are more like a tiny piece of lace and do very little to cover the plumpness of your cunt. You whimper softly as you lean back against his shoulder. You've always been easy to arouse, and the wet sound you make when Mingi's fingers tease your pussy makes it clear that you're absolutely flowing for him right now. You can be sure that as soon as he pulls your panties off to the side, your viscous slime will be dripping freely out of your hole and onto the polished parquet floor. "I think you know very well what it is I want from you. I pay you good money all the time; don't you think I deserve the real thing, my doll?" You let out a loud whimper as his big hand pressed down hard on your shoulder. "On your knees, little one; don't keep your sir waiting."

As you kneel before your professor, facing the growing bulge in his trousers, your lower lip trembles. Professor Song is leaning against the desk, his hands on either side of his body, gazing up at you from under the lashes of his eyes. Your trembling hands are fumbling with his belt, and the sound of the metal echoes through the empty room.

"Oh, now you're embarrassin' yourself, darlin'? Where's that slutty bitch who was squirting all over yesterday because she let her pussy get stretched by a big dildo?" Mingi says it arrogantly, tilting his head to the side and tapping his fingers on his desk in disappointment. You flinch at his words like a slap in the face, but don't bother to reply as you pull down his trousers and underwear, the sight of his thick, wiry cock making your mouth dry as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Like everything else about Professor Song, his cock is amazing—a drop of pre-ejaculate glistening on the flushed head, a thick vein swollen and throbbing just waiting for you to run your soft tongue over it, and its size—he's got a huge cock with a massive girth that you can barely wrap your palm around. Mingi wraps his hand around the cock, his thumb smearing the wetness over the head before he brings it to your lips and runs his whole length over it, leaving a wet sheen, and slaps your mouth a couple of times. 

"Open your mouth, dolly."

Mingi's other hand tangles in your hair, pulling hard on the long strands as you obediently open your mouth for him. His thick cock enters your mouth slowly, your jaw tensing as you try to get used to the size of it. You choke as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat and the balls rest against the side of your chin. Mingi's thumb caressed your tear-stained cheek, and he cooed sweetly as he watched you gurgle around his cock, drool bubbling at the corners of your lips and dripping down your chin. His cock is hot and heavy in your mouth, the veins stretching across the sensitive, velvety skin. Professor Song doesn't give you enough time to get used to the size of his cock and pulls your head back until the only thing left in your mouth is his head.

"Don't you think you should lick me before I fuck you in the mouth, doll? You were very eloquent about wanting me to do it yesterday." You obediently run your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling more pre-cum pouring from his slit onto your tongue. It has a sweetly bitter taste, and you think that it is very suitable for Mingi. "Well done." Professor Song hisses at you before he pushes his cock all the way back into your mouth. You gasp as your hands fly to his strong, muscular thighs in an attempt to push him away as his hips thrust sharply forward, mindlessly using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve. The thick length of it presses down on your throat, and the bulge of his cock is perfectly visible against the back of your neck with each powerful thrust. 

"I have been waiting for such a long time to fuck that slutty mouth. Darling, I can see that you have nothing more to say to me, do you? That's how it's supposed to be; whores don't get to talk." Mingi lets out a deep moan and throws her head back as she pushes you down on his cock. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum and sticky lip gloss, coating the length of thickly dick, making it shiny and smooth so it slides easily over your tongue and deeper into your throat. As you reflexively try to swallow, your jaw aches, your lips stretch around the thick circumference, and the walls of your throat contract. Never in your life have you sucked such a big, long cock, yet here you are, fulfilling the role of a pretty sex toy for your professor to enjoy. At least, unlike some lifeless silicone, no matter how expensive, your cunt and mouth are warm and moist. 

As he mercilessly fucks you in the mouth, Professor Song is not shy about his volume, emitting hoarse, prolonged moans and growls. Anyone could walk into the lecture hall at any moment and see your compromising position, but for some reason it turns you on. Maybe you really are a slut, although as long as you get paid enough, you don't mind being one, especially when Mingi is the one scolding you daily until you pass out. 

"Fuck, I'll cum." Mingi gasps as he wraps both of his large arms around your head, trying to hold it in place. You moan around his cock, the vibrations making Professor Song growl ducky as he presses harder into your slluty mouth and your grip on his hips tightens, your nails digging into the juicy flesh, leaving vicious marks, but Mingy doesn't give a shit; you could rip his skin off if he keeps fucking you like a personal doll. His dark, foxy eyes find yours, his beautiful, plump lips are slightly parted, and his balls are clenched, slapping you on the chin. Now you don't even know what to call him. If you thought Song Mingi looked like a wet dream before, then now he's sex itself. 

"Damn, damn, damn, doll!" He moans loudly, jerking his hips as his sperm pours into your mouth. As you forcefully swallow the viscous liquid that seems to have no end, your prolonged whimper is distorted. There's so much of his cum that some of it seeps through the corners of your mouth. He continues to slowly fuck your mouth. "Don't waste it, slut." He says it in a threatening voice, and you whimper at the venom in his tone. Mingi uses his long fingers to push his cum between your lips and roughly wipes the wet mess around your mouth. All of his rings are covered in a thin layer of cum and saliva, but you think it's hot.

You blink twice, catch your breath, and the next thing you know, your knees are no longer touching the cold floor, and your face, wet with tears and sperm, is pressed against Professor Song's spotless, cold desk; he has thrown you on the desk like a fucking doll. Fucking hell, that wasn't supposed to turn you on, but God, this man is just driving you crazy. You're too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice that Mingi has lifted your skirt, exposing your wet thong to his gaze. The cold air in the audience causes your hole to clench in reflex and the liquid to squirt out. 

You have to clench your fist to keep from squealing as the tight, expensive leather of his belt lands on your bottom with a loud crack. Oh my God, he has just hit you with his belt. Oh shit. Mingi doesn't let you recover; he holds your head against the table with one hand while he slaps your bottom again with the other. The sting of the contact between your soft flesh and the belt makes you squirm and writhe. 

"You just sucking my cock, and you're already so wet? You really are a slut. Aren't you?" He smirks as he leans down and sinks his teeth into the flushed skin of your arse before giving you another good spanking. You whimper as Mingi pulls your thong down your trembling legs, long strands of your own slime tugging at the insignificant piece of fabric as he does so. He pushes your buttocks apart so that your plump, flowing pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

Mingi picks up your leg, which is bent at the knee, and puts it down on the table. You whimper and grab hold of the edge of the table, embarrassed at how open you are to him at this moment. To be honest, it's the most disgusting feeling—you're embarrassed, but at the same time, you want him to do even more disgusting and humiliating things with you. Professor Song crouches down in front of you and spits into your cunt before licking a long, sloppy strip between your folds. Mingi uses his fingers to push your folds apart and then slides the tip of his tongue into your tight hole, tracing the edge of it. 

"Oh, God, sir..." As Mingi eagerly licks your cunt, avoiding your throbbing clit, you let out a long moan and arch your hips towards his tongue. He pulls back abruptly, his heavy hand coming down on your bruised arse to spank you hard before you can get the stimulation you need. 

"Did I tell you you could move, huh? You impatient bitch." You whimper at his reproachful tone. You scratch the wood with your fingernails as he spanks you again. "A good student answers the question, Dolly." Mingi hisses, mixing the scalding pain with the pleasure of the spanking, as his hand touches your bottom again.  "N-no, sir! You didn't tell me to move! I'm so sorry."

"That's right, doll, but I have a feeling the games are over for today." Professor Song says as he finally gets up to his full height and puts his arm around your neck.

Breathing heavily and hoarsely, Mingi feels the heat emanating from you as he guides his thick cock into your little hole. You let out a loud breath and wonder if his cock will feel like the toy he has given you. Probably not; however much you like it, nothing compares to the warmth and throbbing of a real cock, especially Song Mingi's cock.  You squirm as you feel the head of his cock pass slowly between your muscles, a soft howl escaping from your lips. The dildo you used yesterday is nothing compared to Mingi's dick; it feels bigger and thicker, the swollen veins of his cock stretching deliciously along your silky, trembling walls. The urge to hold him inside you is almost irresistible, and you can't help but clench around him. Fuck, and here you thought Mingi couldn't be more slutty and godlike, and you were wondering if his cock had been given special attention during his creation? You let out a loud moan, your tongue flicking out of your mouth, and right now you definitely fit the definition of 'well fucked'. Drops of sweat roll down Mingi's neck, disappearing beneath the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, exposing his hot golden skin and sculpted breasts. Heavy breathing replaces what he's saying, and you feel partly grateful for that. When he finally enters you at the base, the head of his cock touching your cervix and his forehead pressing against your shoulder, you both moan loudly.

"S-Sir, y-you're too big."

Ignoring your whimpering, Mingi grabs you by the hips and immediately sets a brutal but rhythmic pace with you. The objects on his desk shake and fall, shattering on the parquet floor as he fucks you, pressing your body against the desk with the full weight of his body. The fabric rubbing against your hardened nipples sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and makes you shiver from the added stimulation. Your moans grow louder and louder, your cheeks burning, and you can hear his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he thrusts your tight pussy back and forth along the length of his throbbing cock. The humiliation of pouring cream around Professor Song's cock brings tears to your eyes, but at the same time, you come to an almost orgasmic pleasure as he slaps your arse again. The sting stings like a bitch, but it feels fucking unbelievably good.

"That's it, goddamn it. I've been thinking about fucking that tight little cunt for ages. You really are the perfect doll to fuck."

It all makes you dizzy, and you moan "sir" and "daddy" as your pussy sucks him up greedily. You're getting so excited; you don't want to admit it, but you can't help yourself. You can't get enough of Mingi's cock. It feels so good inside you. 

"That's my good little girl. You're definitely worth what I've paid for you." Mingi growls in your ear as he pushes harder and harder into your used cunt. He presses down hard on your neck, pinning you to the table, not letting you move, and fucking you relentlessly, his hips moving hard and fast as he takes complete control of your body. Your orgasm starts to form, an intoxicating sensation of rapture coursing through your veins like lava. 

"Sir, please! Harder!" You need to cum so badly that you beg him to go harder.

Mingi's eyes were narrow—dark and cruel—and his muscles were quivering and tense from your pathetic begging. He's a professor, and professors always want the best for their students, especially the ones they like best.

"Look at you, begging for my cock like a good little bitch," he says. He accentuates the last word with a strong thrust and plunges so deep into your cunt that you can almost feel the head of his cock entering your cervix. A mixture of incoherent words and intermittent moans escape your lips. Your head falls forward as Professor Song releases your neck to grab your thighs again, leaving more bruises on them. 

"Will you cum for me, bitch?" He leans down to your ear and nibbles on your lobe, the slapping of your skin and squishing of your pussy echoing through the empty hall.

"Hell yeah! I'm going to cum for you! I'm going to cum for you, Daddy; I'm going to cum on your cock!" You scream, the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter, and Professor Song fucks your flowing cunt faster and harder.

"Then cum, bunny." He growls, his hips losing their rhythm and jerking, his cock throbbing as thick, hot jets of cum coat the walls of your cunt. He moans your name quietly while your voice is barely audible—a weak, panting whisper, 'Mingi'. Both of your bodies are slowly at rest, revelling in the haze of your orgasms. Soft cries and whimpers escape from your lips, and you shudder as you feel your mixed juices pour out of you, staining the floor that was once so clean. You collapse helplessly on the table, your body going limp, a puddle of saliva pooling under your cheek, and your breathing heavy as you try to clear your mind.

Mingi moans. He bites his plump lip as he comes out of you. You whimper, squirming awkwardly as more cum pours from your pussy. You turn back to look at Professor Song, and your eyes almost pop out of your head as you see him pressing your panties to his nose and moaning loudly and satisfied. He smirks at you vulgarly, licks his lips, and wipes his cock with your underwear before tucking his dick into his trousers, the zip jangling loudly. He dismissively tosses your thong aside and presses against you again, pinning you between the desk and his big muscular body, his hot breath touching your earlobe, before whispering in his deep porn voice.

"Don't think that this is just a one-time thing, doll. I have paid for you, and now you belong to me. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Professor Song. I understand you perfectly."

"That's good. You're a real teacher's pet. On Monday evening, I will be expecting you for an extra lesson. Don't you dare disappoint me, doll." He slaps your butt once more before he pulls himself away completely and walks out of the classroom. 

Oh, this is really fucked up. 

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 7. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A/N: I'm so scared to post this... Forgive me for the long wait! I was about to post this sooner, but my friend said this wasn't good, so I was devastated and swore to myself to delete my account (overreacting a little?) I'm definitely not confident in this chapter, and I have to apologize to the people who have been waiting for this; you deserve better. I've been having a tough time in my personal life these past weeks, and I'm not in the same state as I was in when I started posting. The chapters will be posted less often compared to the usual pace - for now at least. I am sorry. I hope at least someone will find this enjoyable. Word count: 4 859 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Yeosang, we shouldn’t...” 

“It’s okay. Jongho won’t know,” Yeosang whispered to you with a reassuring look, trying to ignore the nervousness of what would happen if Jongho found out. 

“But he would get really angry.” 

“That’s only if you tell him. Please, let’s do this. Okay?” 

The mix of hesitation and guilt was evident on your face, as you pondered what to do. You had no reason to feel guilty; you hadn’t done anything wrong yet, but just considering of accepting Yeosang’s offer made you feel ill. 

“Fine... But just one,” you murmured. 

Yeosang smiled shyly, a gleam of triumph in his eyes, and scooted closer to you on the couch, that suddenly seemed too small for both of you. 

“Just one...” 

Then, Yeosang took two chocolate bars out of his brown bag, and gave the other one to you, wrapper rustling. It was your favorite one, which baffled you, because you couldn’t recall ever telling Yeosang that. 

“How angry do you think Jongho would be if he found out we’ve eaten before dinner? He said I should save my hunger for the food,” you spoke while munching on the bar. 

Yeosang chuckled sheepishly at your worry. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit, almost like scared to touch you, before setting his hand on your shoulder, “You’re a grown woman. He can’t tell you what to do.” 

His hand lingered longer than necessary. It sent tingles around your upper half; you weren’t used to affectionate touch, but after joining the peer support group you received it more than maybe necessary. 

“I think you should take another one,” Yeosang offered you more chocolate, working as the devil on your shoulder while looking like an angel, tempting you to give in to the pleasure of gluttony. 

You were too far gone. The first chocolate bar had woken up your hunger that shouldn’t be satiated until Jongho was there. 

“I guess one more wouldn’t do any bad.” 

After devouring nine more with Yeosang, to your horror, you didn’t find yourself hungry anymore. Your stomach was full, and to be honest, it even ached. It was expected, and you felt guilty to have betrayed Jongho. 

“I... think this was a mistake.” 

Yeosang looked away in shame and took his hand off your thigh he had placed it on, as the warmth left you too, “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to buy you something nice.” 

He looked like a kicked puppy, staring at the floor. It would have been cruel of you to let him believe you didn’t appreciate his kindness. 

He had just wanted to make you happy, which he succeeded in, but you were afraid of Jongho’s reaction. Yeosang and him didn’t even know each other properly, having shared only a couple words. 

After a little hesitation, you patted Yeosang’s shoulder in reassurance, “It’s okay. I appreciate your gesture.” 

Yeosang and you had been hanging out a lot after last therapy session. You found yourself enjoying his company and even starting to trust him – maybe a bit too much to your liking. You let him in your apartment, of course under your surveillance, but still; it was a big step in starting to give people chances. 

But this was a day you were supposed to spend with Jongho. Still, Yeosang had come to your apartment, smiling sheepishly and convincing you to let him hang out with you and Jongho. How could you refuse him when he looked at you with those hopeful brown eyes? It would have been a crime not to let him in especially when he had brought you chocolate. 

Hopefully, Jongho wouldn’t mind that much that you had already stuffed yourself with candy before dinner. 

The doorbell rang, indicating Jongho was there, making your full stomach flutter with anxiety. 

Every step you took towards the door felt too fast, approaching the inevitable danger. You hoped the floor had a sinkhole under it and you’d fall into it, rather than you having to open the door. Jongho could be furious, but like usually, he would show it in other ways than pure aggression. 

And behind the door, there he was, standing drenched because he had walked in the sleet on his way to your apartment. 

“I brought the ingredients. We’re making soup” Jongho said, two heavy grocery bags in his hands, undoubtedly filled with other stuff as well than just the ingredients. 

“Oh, splendid. By the way, Yeosang’s here,” you revealed nervously. 

Jongho’s expression turned sour as Yeosang peeked behind you. Neither of the men smiled at each other, but you didn’t think of that as a big deal. Jongho wasn’t one to smile that much and Yeosang was shy; they’d get along just fine. At least you wished so, because if they started fighting, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. 

“Do you need a towel? You look quite wet.” 

Jongho seemed to contemplate your words for a second before answering, “Yeah, that would be nice.” 

“I’ll bring you a fresh towel.” 

“No need to. A used towel is just fine. I wouldn’t want to cause you more laundry.” 

You frowned but nodded slowly. All kinds of thoughts tangled in your mind, ranging from Jongho wanting to steal your towel to darker scenarios, like selling it on black market to old perverts or criminals who wanted to steal your DNA and make a clone of you. But you had to remember: you had a bad habit of overthinking. 

After he had dried himself off with the towel you brought, Jongho walked past Yeosang, shooting him a glare as he made his way to the kitchen. 

“Yeosang grates the vegetables,” Jongho informed with a tone that left no room for discussion. 

Poor Yeosang didn’t have the courage to refuse so he just walked to the kitchen as well, steps slow and sad. You had to catch the chuckle that was about to fall from your lips despite feeling bad for him. 

The three of you started cooking, the kitchen filling with delicious scent and sound of the water boiling and meat frying on the pan. There were no other sounds though, just awkward silence. You didn’t want to be the person who would have to start the conversation, but you were the only one who could do it. You had to be the savior, although you couldn’t afford to hope for Yeosang and Jongho to become friends.  

“Uh, this smells really good. I’m sure it will be yummy,” you started, sounding like you were pathetically awful at holding conversations. 

Jongho didn’t reply, focused on frying the meat. Luckily – and surprisingly – Yeosang had the social capacity to answer you. 

“It will be yummy because you were preparing it.” 

It was corny but kind of cute. Jongho didn’t seem to think so as he scoffed. 

“With that logic the food will taste like shit because Yeosang is preparing it. He’s cutting the carrots wrong.” 

You almost gasped at Jongho’s mean words directed at Yeosang. There was nothing Yeosang could have done to make Jongho hate him; Yeosang was a sweetheart. 

The room fell silent once again, but you tried desperately to keep the conversation alive. Usually, silence didn’t bother you as much, but this kind of quiet, tense atmosphere made you uncomfortable. 

“Wow Yeosang, I could never cut vegetables as well as you.” 

“Instead of cutting vegetables, he should cut the bullshit and tell us why he’s here.” 

The situation started feeling even more tense, making it hard to breathe. Surprisingly, Yeosang didn’t seem to take Jongho’s harsh words into heart as much as you would have thought. Sure, he looked flustered and a bit scared, but he still bravely defended himself. 

“I-I didn’t know you were coming here... I just wanted to spend time with Y/N.” 

“I let him in. Don’t blame him,” you joined in to protect Yeosang from Jongho’s wrath. 

You didn’t like to anger Jongho either, but throwing Yeosang under the bus and letting him take all the blame didn’t sit right with you. 

It was silent for a moment as Jongho just stared at you two before murmuring, “I’ll let it slide. But I just wished I could have spent today with her alone.” 

A pang of guilt hit you, but it was too late to kick Yeosang out. Jongho just had to deal with the situation now, and you’d apologize later. 

The food was done in about 30 minutes, and the three of you were sitting at the table. Jongho had stolen the place next to you before Yeosang could even utter a word, and Yeosang was sitting opposite to Jongho. It wasn’t a nice spot to sit at, under Jongho’s spiteful eyes. 

“Jongho, how was the weather? You looked pretty upset when you got here,” you wondered. 

“I was upset about the weather, yes. Now I have other reasons.” 

You couldn’t come up with any else response than just nodding to him. It was not your fault he seemed so grumpy and unresponsive – well, maybe it was your fault for letting Yeosang in. 

The food was good, but you definitely did not feel that way otherwise. Yeosang must have felt very uncomfortable, you thought, so instead of dealing with Jongho’s attitude, you wanted to talk to Yeosang. 

“How have you liked hanging out with me?” 

That was the best you could do in that atmosphere. 

“Well, I think you’re lovely and-” 

“Have you been hanging out? How much?” Jongho interrupted Yeosang and raised his gaze from the food. 

The look on his face startled you. It was intense, burning through your skin to find out the truth. You had done nothing wrong, just hanging out with Yeosang. Even if the relationship between you and Jongho wasn’t fake, it wouldn’t be wrong of you to have friends. 

“Well, we’ve been meeting pretty frequently this week.” 

Jongho’s eyes narrowed. He gripped the utensils tighter, but couldn’t find the words to say. His body language told enough. 

Not to Yeosang though, because he didn’t drop the subject, “Y/N and I went to a restaurant. It was very romantic...” 

The chair you were sitting on felt so uncomfortable but it was like you were tied to it, unable to leave the room. Your eyes begged Yeosang to stop, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“A-At one point, she needed help with the zipper of her dress. The dress was beautiful just like its wearer.” 

Jongho nodded, signaling Yeosang to continue. 

“We also went ice-skating. It was freezing so I gave her my jacket.” 

You sensed a catastrophe was about to happen. The tension and Jongho would snap any moment now, and you were not waiting eagerly for that to happen. Yeosang was like a completely different man, not seeming so reserved and anxious anymore. 

“If she was my girlfriend, I would treat her like a queen.” 

It all happened so fast. The sound of the plate shattering and the sight of Yeosang’s bloody face were something you couldn’t realize first nor forget. 

Yeosang’s nose was bleeding, eyes teary in pain, yet his face was also covered in soup. The plate shattered on the floor in thousand little pieces served as a reminder to you, that Jongho had really thrown the plate at Yeosang’s face. 

The room was silent for a small moment. Yeosang’s pain and state made you feel sick in stomach. Jongho had no reason to throw the plate; he didn’t even love you. It was just pure, cruel violence towards Yeosang who had complimented you kindly. 

“What the hell?!” your head snapped to look at Jongho. 

Against all expectations, he looked horrified. It was a sight that had never been seen, Jongho being so calm and collected usually. He didn’t look guilty, but yet his eyes were wide open in terror, after he had finally realized what he had done. 

“I-I didn’t mean to do that.” 

It wasn’t like you to show your anger, but this was a serious situation, serious violence towards your friend. One thing you couldn’t accept was hurting people close to you. It wasn’t always easy to defend them since you were afraid of the consequences, but you couldn’t let this slide. 

“It doesn’t matter! You still did it because you couldn’t control yourself. What did Yeosang even do to deserve this?” 

“He was flirting with you,” Jongho muttered despite wanting to present himself stronger. 

“And why does it bother you? We’re not even really dating.” 

Yeosang’s eyes looked like the plate that had just crashed into his head; that’s how wide they were after hearing your revelation. 

You didn’t even care about the fake relationship anymore. You couldn’t care less about Jongho either anymore, at least that’s what you told yourself. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. After all the dates and days you had spent with him, despite them being fake, you had grown fond of him. 

But resorting into violence when he didn’t even love you, was what you found repulsive. At that moment, you saw him as a monster worse than the stalker. 

“Get out and never talk to us again.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to repair this.” 

“There’s no way you could redeem yourself,” you said sharply. His face you had found handsome just a few moments ago made you feel disgusted now. 

“Let me help you, Yeosang-” 

Jongho’s attempt at fixing the situation was shut down by you instantly. You wouldn’t let him touch Yeosang. 

“Don’t touch him. Get out or I’ll call the police. They’ll arrest you for assault.” 

He looked so sad as you demanded him to go out. The mention of police apparently worked though, because he started making his way out. You wouldn’t grant him any access to your apartment anymore. He had no keys to your home and definitely none of your sympathy. For the rest of his life, he would be banned from entering. 

You rushed to Yeosang as Jongho left the apartment, the sound of the front door shutting signaling that. 

“Are you hurting much?” 

“Y-Yes. I’m pretty sure my nose is bleeding.” 

With careful movements, you wiped his face clean of the food. Once his face was clear of the hot soup, you noticed his nose was indeed bleeding. 

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, despite nothing being your fault. If you hadn’t let Yeosang in your apartment, this catastrophe would have never happened. 

“I’m so sorry, Yeosang-” 

“Were you really fake dating Jongho?” 

You hadn’t expected Yeosang to ask that, but he deserved your honesty after what happened. 

“Yes. Jongho suggested it so he could protect me from a stalker that has been sending me disturbing stuff,” you sighed. 

Yeosang hummed in acknowledgement, before he frowned, “Do you have any idea who it could be?” 

“It’s someone from the therapy group, but at least it isn’t you... I hope so.” 

Yeosang let out a shy laugh at your comment, “What can I do to gain your trust?” 

“Only time will help,” you grinned sheepishly, “So you’d do well to not be revealed as the stalker.” 

Yeosang started looking dizzy, so you decided you’d let him take a nap on your bed. While you tucked him in, he gave you a sleepy smile, making your heart ache in guilt yet warm up with gratitude for him not blaming you. 

He slept like a baby the whole night, and you checked up on him frequently to see if he had stopped suddenly breathing or suffered concussion. You weren’t one to abandon your friends... and you were also kind of afraid if he died the police would blame it on you. That night, you slept on the couch, too scared to sleep next to Yeosang. He was your friend, but he could backstab you any moment both figuratively and literally. 

The next day, you were at the therapy meeting once again. You didn’t know whether to be surprised or not about the fact that Jongho wasn’t there. Yeosang and San were sitting next to you. 

“What’s up with Yeosang’s face?” San leaned to whisper to you, wondering why Yeosang’s face was bruised. His scent was appealing, and you felt both nervous yet somehow excited to be so close to him. 

“Um, he hit himself with a hockey stick.” 

“Dumbass,” San chuckled in response. 

You wanted to punch him, but after some thinking, he probably hadn’t meant anything bad with it. San was playful but you had never seen him act hostile except when Hongjoong had insulted you. 

As Hongjoong himself came in the room, being the last one to enter, you realized Yeosang wasn’t the only one who had been assaulted. 

Hongjoong’s cheek was bruised and it almost hurt you to look at it. There was an eyepatch in front of his left eye – if there even was an eye there anymore... 

“Ahoy! The pirate king’s here!” Wooyoung cheered gleefully, earning a few chuckles around the room. 

Even if the eye patch wasn’t enough to make Hongjoong look like a pirate, he was limping. It was honestly a sad sight. 

Hongjoong shot a deadly glare at Wooyoung, looking like he wanted to say something. But he held back from starting to argue with him. He knew what mean words had gotten him into last time. 

“May I ask what happened to you?” Charlotte directed her question at Hongjoong who looked like he wanted to kill someone. 

“You may not,” he sat down as far away from Wooyoung and San as possible. 

Right at the moment Hongjoong spoke his words, the tension tightened, like a rubber band being pulled from both sides. Even though Charlotte started speaking again, explaining that today’s subject was inspiration and motivation, nobody could concentrate, just focusing on Hongjoong’s pathetic state. 

“Looks like Jongho isn’t here. Does anyone know where he is?” 

You felt cold shivers when the attention was on you, listening ears all around you, waiting for your answer because you were supposedly Jongho’s girlfriend. What could you tell? That Jongho had thrown a plate at Yeosang’s face and gotten kicked out of your apartment? 

“Last time I hung out with him he seemed a little sick,” Yunho informed. 

You had had no idea that Yunho had even spoken to Jongho, but now he was revealing that they had been hanging out. 

“That’s weird. He told me that he... Never mind,” Charlotte shrugged, “Let’s start with Mingi. What is your motivation to keep living?” 

Mingi seemed to be deep in thoughts before looking straight at you and smiling happily like you had asked the question, not Charlotte, “I keep living because my music helps people.” 

Wooyoung snickered and turned to look at San swiftly, who just smiled faintly in response. 

“Weren’t you performing at the Valentine’s Day event?” 

Mingi nodded confidently at Wooyoung’s question. 

“I happened to see Y/N and Jongho there. They were the only ones that stayed,” Wooyoung mentioned. 

But unlike Wooyoung had hoped, Mingi didn’t seem fazed by his mocking, “It means the world to me that Y/N stayed. Have you done anything to gain and earn her attention?” 

The way Mingi stayed confident and didn’t back down made you feel proud of him. He had been ridiculed so much before that he deserved to finally stand his ground proudly. 

Wooyoung shut up when Mingi didn’t react to his comment in the way he wanted. A rare sight truly, was to see Wooyoung embarrassed, murmuring something to San. 

“Let’s not mock each other here, okay? This is a place of acceptance and love.” 

Charlotte’s pacific words almost made you cringe. How was it that when Hongjoong had insulted you, Charlotte let it happen, not caring to defend you, but now she wanted to play an ambassador of peace? 

“Yunho, go ahead and tell us your motivation and inspiration to life, please.” 

“Protecting the people I love keeps me going.” 

“Why not protecting all people? You’re a policeman, you just can’t pick and choose who to protect,” Wooyoung chimed in again. 

“Oh, shut up already,” San smacked Wooyoung in the head. 

In your opinion, Wooyoung’s question was valid. Maybe it was just because you wanted a reason to suspect Yunho, but it was reasonable to consider why Yunho mentioned only his loved ones. 

“Oh, of course I want to protect everyone. Justice means everything to me. Locking up criminals is just my way of protecting my girlfriend.” 

You felt incredibly stupid and shocked – yet also relieved. All this time, Yunho had had a girlfriend, but you had been suspecting him of being the stalker. A wave of relief washed over you, making you relax on your seat, finally knowing that Yunho wasn’t the stalker. He was just an innocent man who seemed a bit twisted. 

“You have a girlfriend?” San asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Yunho’s smile was an odd and dreamy one, “Well, she’s not my girlfriend yet but she will be. Sooner or later.” 

And it was gone, your relief and belief that Yunho would be safe after all. His words sounded ominous even if it wasn’t possibly you who he was talking about. 

“Yeosang, your turn.” 

“I’m motivated to live because I finally have a friend by my side.” 

As Yeosang turned to glance at you quickly, the corners of your lips rose into a soft smile. Having had deep conversations with him before, you knew about the loneliness he had had to endure his whole life due to his social anxiousness. 

“Do you think she really wants to be your friend? Or does she hang out with you because she pities you?” 

Hongjoong dared to speak ill again, and you weren’t about to accept that. Maybe you didn’t know how to defend yourself, but you had developed an instinct to take care of Yeosang, so you spoke before thinking. 

“Pity him? If I befriended people because I pity them, you would be my best friend. You’re pathetic, thinking you’re so much better than others just because you were born with a silver spoon up your ass.” 

A forced scoff made its way out of Hongjoong’s mouth when you insulted him, “That’s the best what you can do? I’ve gained my wealth and glory by my own. You wouldn’t know that, leeching off government’s aids.” 

“Do you talk about anything other than money and how successful you are? You’re making your whole personality orbit around things that are going to disappear anyways.” 

“Everything and everyone disappear eventually. Just like your parents did.” 

Hongjoong’s snarky reply froze you. There was no way he could know about your parents’ disappearance in your childhood. Either he wanted to use a petty, unoriginal insult or he actually knew secrets about your past that only people who you trusted should have known. 

It was the last thing you expected, him bringing up things about the most painful time in your life. About the time you so desperately wanted to forget. 

“I advise you to shut your mouth, Hongjoong,” San said coldly. 

It worked to your surprise and luck. Hongjoong’s bruised lips shut and he was glaring at San with the visible eye. Despite his undeniable fury, he kept all of his thoughts where they belonged. 

“Y/N, could you tell us about your motivation next?” 

You had to learn to open up, but after Hongjoong’s comment, you couldn’t. Your mouth was sealed, sewn shut. 

It was humiliating to have let him get under your skin once again, but it was impossible for you to speak anymore. You were silent, while everyone was waiting, but you did not care. 

“It’s okay, say something vague,” San took your hand gently, making you flinch. 

Everyone in the room was nuts. They were way too intrusive, though in many variable ways. 

But you couldn’t let Hongjoong win, to make you shut down completely. The satisfaction it would bring him made you feel disgusted, so you managed to come up with an answer. 

“My motivation to live is to prove that I refuse to die like this.” 

The others were silent, taking your words in. 

“Wow, that’s inspiring. A bit cringe, but inspiring,” Wooyoung nodded. 

The round continued, it being San’s turn next. He talked about how his aspiration was to be the best version of himself. Wooyoung didn’t have an answer that deep, but it was okay. Apparently, he dreamed of having a sword battle with Hongjoong, because he was convinced he’d win the ‘pirate king’ himself. The notorious pirate king did not even scoff but he was embarrassed, looking away with his one eye. 

It was Seonghwa’s turn. 

“My motivation to live is not anything special,” he started sheepishly, “I just want to take care of my loved ones. Make them feel like they’re the most important people in the world. Because they are – to me.” 

Seonghwa’s admission melted your heart into a puddle. How could one be so sweet and still be friends with Hongjoong? It was suspicious. 

Maybe they weren’t friends after all, because Seonghwa hadn’t been sitting next to Hongjoong that therapy session. There was an empty chair between them, a spot where Jongho was supposed to be. Jongho could have been next to you if he wasn’t such a madman and hadn’t thrown the plate at Yeosang. The memory still made you boil. 

Hongjoong was the last to speak. For a second, he didn’t look as angry as before, but the soft expression was quickly gone. 

“My motivation is to prove I am better than everyone else. And my inspiration to all of my recent work... it’s someone special.” 

Your ears must have been damaged or lying, because you couldn’t fathom the fact that Hongjoong had called someone ‘special’. Unless he meant himself, of course. The man with a heart made of iron had a soft spot for another human being. It surely wasn’t you to your luck. 

As if he wasn’t intimidating enough with the pirate type of look, his gaze made you shiver. It stopped on you for a moment, reading you like a book he was strangely interested in. 

He stared at you with his eye, and surely the one under the eyepatch would have been directed to you as well. 

The feeling of being watched and stared at didn’t stop even when you were walking home. Your home wasn’t far away from the bus stop, actually a very small distance, but the need to run was overwhelming. Like someone was breathing in your neck, you knew it was just the wind. 

The couple hundred steps it took to reach your apartment felt excruciating, pure torture to your mind. But when you finally got home, feeling the warmth and turning on the lights, the world seemed to brighten up a little bit. Out there, you were in danger but your home was the safest place you could be at – although you always had the nagging sensation of someone watching you. Home inspectors had told you countless times there was nothing to be afraid of but you knew better. Others may have thought of it as highly unlikely but there was always a possibility of the stalker living inside your walls. 

Looking around the apartment for any signs of something suspicious like letters, you came to the conclusion that nobody had been there. So, for that night at least, you were safe. This had become a ritual for you. It was impossible for you to fall asleep if you hadn’t checked every room. 

As you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Eye bags told the story of your restless nights, tossing and turning around in anxiety. Your psychiatrist advised you to start taking melatonin but that was too risky. What if someone really broke into your apartment and you wouldn’t wake up from your slumber? 

The bedroom was always the last room you checked. It was small, so there weren’t a lot of potential hiding spots for stalkers and murderers to attack from. Still, you had to check it thoroughly. 

In the bedroom, there was a pile of pieces of fabric on the floor. Instantly, you recognized the pattern being your bed sheets. 

You just couldn’t remember changing the sheets before you left. Sure, Yeosang could have changed them as an act of kindness after he had slept on your bed. His blood had surely stained the pillow sheets, and Yeosang was a considerate man. 

Nonetheless, you were exhausted, and the clean bedsheets invited you to snuggle in, smell the fresh scent of laundry detergent. You knew you should have been more careful, think about the situation with more depth. But still, you let yourself fall onto the bed and let it embrace you. 

You instantly noticed something was off though. The sheets didn’t smell like the laundry detergent or anything that you could reason with. They didn’t carry the scent of Yeosang either. 

As you sniffed the sheets furiously, trying to dig your memories to realize what the scent was, you realized something. The scent was too familiar. It wasn’t Yeosang. It wasn’t you. There was absolutely no reason for the sheets to smell like Jongho, but they did.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 6. Chapter 8. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto @eighttens

[freyaphoria]

Jump, Bunny

San was circling around you like a wild animal. The light reflecting from above made his facial features more prominent, making him look the most terrifying he could possibly be.

"Look at this little bunny... Did she want to be free? Did she want to jump back to her old miserable life!" He shouted the last sentence and you jumped as much as the chains tied to your body allowed.

"San please-" he interrupted you as he mumbled under his breath. "Speak up, bunny. This basement is too big. I can't hear you." He was right in front of you. There were 3-4 centimeters between you.

"Just let me go! What do you want! I have nothing to give you! I have no money-"

"Uh no bunny. I don't want money from you. I just want your life, your soul, your body." He continued to circle around.

"How about this? I'll release your chains. And I'll give you 1 minute. Run away from me during that time. If I catch you, then you're all mine. What do you say?" He could tell from your eyes that you were hesitating.

"Oh, little bunny. If you don't want it, then I'll give your punishment right now-" "No, I want it! Untie me!" You suddenly shouted. “You are so eager..” He laughed sarcastically and stood behind you and started to undo your chains.

"Don't get caught by me. Even I'm scared of what I'll do to you if I caught you," he said in the scariest tone you've ever heard. You were terrified.

"Come on bunny, jump." When he unlocked your chains completely, you headed towards the basement door without waiting even a second. For a moment, your legs were weak and you stumbled. The idea of ​​getting away from this crazy man gave you adrenaline and made you want to continue. You quickly pulled the door open, but it was locked. Your eyes suddenly darkened from panic. You were applying as much force to the door as you could. At that moment, you heard a laughing sound approaching you from behind.

"Did you seriously think I would let you go? You're so stupid, little bunny. That's why you can't live without me." You were afraid to turn your head. "Why..." San came to the nape of your neck and inhaled your scent deeply.

"I just wanted to give you a little hope." You couldn't stand up from shaking, but just as you were about to fall to the ground, he picked you up. "Now...what should we do with you?"

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Choi San's B'Day Celebration Event 🍾🥳

In honour of our cat boi I will be dedicated the next 24 hours solely for showering our gorgeous man with affection!

Send in your drabble ideas, hard thoughts, astrology ideas and I will answer as many as I can in the next 24 hours.

[mint-yooxgi]

{13} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang, Yunho, San, and Mingi)

Words: 10,500

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma and bullying: past suicidal thoughts mentioned, and mention of a lack of self worth, OC runs into an old 'friend' near the beginning, I think that's it honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I decided to split this part into two since I feel it makes the story flow better. I'm happy where I ended it, and I really hope you all look forward to the next few parts! There's quite a lot of story coming your way hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve

There’s a fond look in your eyes as you stand by yourself in front of the large window overlooking the newborns sleeping soundly before you. The hospital is quiet, given how early in the morning it is, a few staff walking behind you every now and then. Still, you cannot help but watch over little Elijah, even now, ensuring that nothing happens to him while his mother rests with his father in her hospital room.

Born a little over eight hours ago, well into the night, he sleeps soundly. A week late, weighing in at a healthy eight pounds, eleven ounces, they keep him wrapped up while Crystal recovers from giving birth the night before.

When you had gotten the call yesterday, you immediately rushed to the hospital with Seonghwa and the others. You met your parents here, waiting as long as you could before being sent home. Having wanted as natural a birth as possible, Crystal had been in for a long night. 

Much to your content, you discovered Elijah had been born in the early hours of the morning, and had already been checked over for any ailments that might affect him after birth. He had none, and is perfectly healthy according to all of the doctors. A fact which makes you, and all of your family, happy beyond belief.

Currently, Vasco is with Crystal, staying with her after recovery while Elijah sleeps. San has went to grab you both coffees with Mingi, who you asked to stop by and check up on Crystal for you on the way to the café. You want to make sure that she’s fairing well while you check up on your baby nephew for the first time. 

The other guys stayed home, per your request. Of course, a few of them had protested at that - Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong - considering you all don’t know what Malik or Dimitri’s next moves are. However, at your assurance, they backed off. Besides, you have both Mingi and San here with you, and you highly doubt you would be attacked in a hospital.

Still, you’re on high alert. Just in case.

Looking over little Elijah once more as he sleeps, you notice a figure come to stand beside you out of the corner of your eyes. He’s tall, but not as tall as Yunho, with dirty blond hair. He looks familiar, but you don’t pay him much mind. You just wish he’d stop glancing at you every few seconds.

The soft call of your name startles you, and you finally turn to get a good look at the man standing beside you. His blue eyes are hauntingly familiar.

“Hi, Jake.” You give him a small, albeit tight smile.

“I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure.” He smiles lightly back. “I haven’t seen you since elementary school. How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well.” You reply softly. “Yourself?”

“Never better,” his eyes crinkle slightly as he turns back to observe the sleeping infants before you. “Is one of them yours?”

He holds a paper coffee cup in his hand, using it to motion before him along the line of babies.

“Oh. No.” You shake your head. “Just a proud aunt watching over her nephew.”

The corner of your lips twitches upwards as you motion to Elijah sleeping soundly before you.

A moment of silence as you cradle your elbows in your hands, almost to the point of curling in on yourself. You clear your throat. “You?”

A brilliant smile lights up his features, his eyes crinkling at the sides as his chest puffs out slightly in pride. He nods in the direction of two girls sleeping side by side. “My wife just had a twins.”

“Oh.” You meet his gaze briefly, offering him a small smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He grins widely, ruffling his hair which already seems quite disheveled. “It would have been your sister, right?”

You blink, pulled out of your own thoughts for the moment. “I’m sorry?”

“Your sister who had the baby,” he motions lightly to Elijah with his cup again. “If I remember correctly.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You clear your throat once more. “It was her.”

“Tell her congratulations for me.” He nods.

You swallow the dryness in your throat, shifting from foot to foot. “I will. Thank you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever had an encounter where you’ve felt more awkward in your life. Sure, you could brush up against Mingi’s, or even San’s mental links right now, but it’s not like you’re in danger. You’re just more uncomfortable than anything at the moment, given everything he did to you when you were younger.

“Actually, it must be pure luck that we ran into each other today.” This time, Jake clears his throat, somewhat nervously.

You hum in response, shifting the slightest bit further from him without arousing suspicion.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the past lately, and it just reminded me that I never apologized to you.”

His statement catches you so off guard, that your hands end up falling to your sides.

“I was a huge asshole to you when we were younger, and I don’t know how much this will mean to you now, but I’m sorry. I wasn’t happy when I was a kid, and I felt you were an easy target to take that out on. I was always jealous of you, and I let that and my anger control my actions. That was not right.” He says, no longer looking towards you, but down at his hands with that coffee cup held in them for dear life. “I regret getting my friends involved to torment you, too. The feeling of them listening to me gave me a sense of power I felt I lacked in my life, and you were the unfortunate victim.”

You swear you’ve stopped breathing, whole body feeling numb as you refuse to so much as look in his direction. Jake was one of the ones who tormented you so much when you were younger, and gave you all of those self doubts, as well as an incredible amount of self hatred. One of the ones who made you believe you were worthless, ugly, and unlovable.

The worst part: he started out as one of your closest friends, too. A close friend who you had cherished above all else, just as you do with all the people you care about.

A worried call of your name greets your ears, and you turn to see San standing to your opposite side, a cup of coffee held in each of his hands. Mingi is nowhere in sight.

There is no hiding the narrowed eyed look San sends Jake’s way as the former comes to stand beside you. He places the cup of coffee in your hand gently before immediately wrapping his now free arm around your waist. Almost instantly, he pulls you into his side.

“You don’t have to forgive me.” Jake continues, and you feel San’s grip around your waist tighten. “It’s been years, and I would understand if you never did. What I did was vile, and inexcusable. Just know, that I am sorry, and I regret it all.” He swallows thickly. “I just thought you should know.”

With a firm nod in acknowledgement towards San, and without another word spoken, Jake takes his leave.

Your eyes follow after him down the hall, watching as he retreats around a corner and out of sight. You don’t even notice Mingi has come to join you until you hear his voice speaking to you.

“Who was that?” There’s a hint of a growl to his words, him taking note of the distressed state you seem to be in at the moment.

You inhale sharply, as if suddenly coming back to the reality before you.

“Starlight?” Immediately, worry takes over Mingi’s features as he looks at you.

Beside you, you can feel San physically trembling.

“Baby,” his voice is low in attempts to control his building anger, “What did he do to you?”

You shake your head, blinking a few times blankly. “Nothing.”

“Then, why was he apologizing to you?” Mingi’s brow furrows, stepping in front of you in order to gently grasp your hands still holding onto that cup in his own.

“That was Jake.” You blink, head still reeling at this turn of events. “He- he-“ You take a deep breath in to steady your nerves. “He was my friend. Once.”

The two males share a look.

“You don’t look like you’ve just been chatting up an old friend.” San glares off in the direction Jake had walked off in, as if he can still see the male behind the walls of the hospital.

“He was my friend,” you repeat, pursing your lips for only a moment, “before he started bullying me.”

You swear that were you not in a public place, both males would have let growls escape them.

“He made me feel worthless, and pathetic.” Your gaze is somewhat blank, as if recalling memories from your childhood that you have long since kept hidden. “I can’t count the amount of times he told me I was ugly.” You swallow. “And fat. And stupid. And that I would never amount to anything. That no one would ever care for me, so I should just runaway and die.”

You swear you see San’s eyes flash in the reflection of the glass beside Mingi’s head.

“He got his friends involved, and it was like a game to them who could berate me the most.” You don’t know how you’re still standing, or how you’ve managed to quell your building emotions for the time being, but you do. “He told me to kill myself more times than I can remember.”

You look down at that cup of coffee in your hands, finally taking note of Mingi still gently holding onto you. The way they both have trouble breathing, chests heaving with each breath, you just know that they’re both barely containing their anger for the moment.

“I told you once before how people would pretend to like me as a joke,” you exhale shakily, and you hear the faintest of growls come from the man still holding you to his side. “I wish I could say I saw through it every time, but sometimes having a crush can blind you.”

San nearly drops the cup of coffee in his hand. “You liked him?”

“I mentioned we started off as friends, no?” Your lips twitch upwards sadly. “I think that’s what made what he did worse. I let so many things slide because I just wanted his attention. It’s something I’ve always done. With him though, any attention was good attention to me. It didn’t take long for it to change. His younger brother always was rude to me from the start, but then he started in on the ‘fun’, too.”

This time, there’s no mistaking when Mingi’s eyes flash black right before you.

Quickly, you scan the hallway to ensure it’s still empty. 

It is.

“He never apologized, or even acknowledged what he did to me before. He always denied it when confronted about it, too.” Your grip tightens slightly around that cup in your hands. “Until now.”

Raising a shaky hand to your cheek, Mingi cups your face tenderly in his palm. Gently, his thumb strokes over your skin, and you can feel the barely contained rage in his touch despite how delicately he holds onto you.

“We should tear him apart for what he did to you.” Mingi keeps his voice surprisingly low and steady. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”

A low growl of agreement sounds from San.

Almost instantly, you’re shaking your head. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” San asks, pulling away from you in shock as he begins pacing in front of both you and Mingi in that little space between where you stand and the wall.

“He’s not worth it.” You reach out, and instantly San has his free hand in yours. “I never expected to run into him after all these years, least of all for him to apologize as soon as I did.”

“Are you-“ Mingi takes the time to study your features closely, gently guiding your gaze back to his. “Are you okay?”

“Shocked.” You blink a few times in response. “Attempting to process things for the moment, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” San steps in closer, nothing but worry etched into his brow.

“Yeah.” You meet his gaze. “I don’t know, it’s almost… freeing in a sense.” You swallow. “It’s almost like getting a sense of closure I never knew I needed.”

Instantly, the two males seem to relax the slightest bit from your words.

“He seemed genuine when he spoke to you.” San adds softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Besides, I’m sure our dear Sannie here would have torn him apart in an instant if he sensed any malicious or deceitful thoughts towards you.” Mingi finally drops his hands, turning to glance off in the direction Jake went off in. “I know I would have.”

“You’re damn right I would have.” San hums in agreement.

A soft laugh escapes you. “That I do know.”

They offer you small smiles in response, an affectionate gleam to their eyes. 

“His wife just had twins.” You motion to the two baby girls wrapped up in blankets near Elijah with your chin.

They spare a brief look in their direction before shifting their focus onto Elijah. Almost instantaneously, Elijah stretches in his sleep, a tiny yawn escaping him as he shifts his position.

You coo lovingly down at your little nephew.

“He’s perfectly healthy, as far as we, and all of the doctors can tell.” San is beside you once more, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“And Crystal?” You spare a glance at Mingi.

“A little tired, but recovering just fine.” He smiles at you in response. “I checked her over like you asked.”

“Good.” A soft smile pulls at your lips. “I’m glad.”

Slowly, the three of you begin making your way back down the hallway and towards the room Crystal is in. You plan to spend some time with her before heading back for the day, and getting some more training done with Yunho and Yeosang. 

You’re almost at a point where you can start learning the basics of a few weapons, and you’re getting quite excited. Wooyoung is more than ready to start teaching you about different poisons, and he’s often hinted at certain plants which have high toxicity levels. For now, he’s still letting you have some space, not wanting to give you any ‘ideas’ for the next time he gets overtly clingy. 

Not that you would poison him. 

Similarly, Yunho has been helping you hone your mind, strengthening it before the inevitable happens once you become like them.

Once you become like them.

There’s a thought that has been crossing your mind more often than not lately. You know that they mentioned that it would consist of the merging of souls in a way - you give them a piece of your soul while they give you a piece of theirs in exchange - but you’re still not entirely sure what that entails. You’ve been meaning to ask, only, you haven’t found the proper time to do so.

Perhaps you’ll bring it up again, soon.

For now, you’ll focus on joking around and making your sister smile as you sit beside her hospital bed. Vasco managed to pass out in the one chair in the time it took for Mingi to come find both you and San, but you don’t hold it against him. The man has been up all night with his wife.

After about an hour, you notice Crystal starting to drift off to sleep, too, so you bid her a fond farewell for now. With a big hug and a kiss from you, you tell her to get as much rest as she can, and that you’ll be around to visit again soon.

The whole car ride back home is quiet. Both Mingi and San attempt to engage you in conversation, only for you to reply with small, one word answers. That is, if you don’t just hum in response. Your mind is clearly elsewhere, and worry furrows their brows as they watch you almost subconsciously drive home.

You seem distracted, and it’s enough to have the others observing you carefully as you walk through the house. The quiet is unusual for you after visiting your sister, and though you don’t appear angry, or upset, it’s quite unsettling.

Of course, it takes no time for both Mingi and San to be sharing what happened with the others. 

Why am I suddenly getting flashbacks to that worm we disposed of all those months ago? Wooyoung nearly growls out in all of their heads.

Believe me, Hongjoong sighs. You’re not the only one.

So, why aren’t we doing that to this one right now? Perhaps even something worse?Jongho quirks a brow while staring down at the pages of his book.

She told us not to. Mingi replies. Said he wasn’t worth it.

But he hurt her. This time, it’s Seonghwa who responds. None of his brothers need to see him to know that he wears a frown on his features currently. 

An expression mirrored by more than just one male.

She said it happened a long time ago. San adds. We don’t know the full details, just what she’s told us.

And that should have been enough to at least torment the fellow. Yunho says, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

I don’t know, guys. Mingi sighs. She told us that she felt as if it was almost freeing in a sense for him to apologize after all these years. You know I’m all for eviscerating anyone that harms her, but if she says not to, I think we should listen to her.

We’re lucky she hasn’t found out about Calum, yet. Yeosang chimes in, an almost knowing hum to his words.

And she never will. Hongjoong confirms. Just like she doesn’t have to know about this ‘Jake’ guy.

His wife just had twins, Hongjoong. San states, rather firmly. Besides, do you really want to disobey Our Queen’s wishes like that so easily?

A moment of silence settles over all of them as San’s words sink in.

San’s right. Seonghwa finally breaks the building tension. We don’t purposely orphan children, or widow spouses. Nor should we go against her wishes.

Boo! You guys are no fun. They can all practically hear the pout in Wooyoung’s voice as he says this.

I suppose the circumstances were a lot different last time. Jongho sighs.

We could still torment him mentally. Yunho suggests casually.

Oh, I’m all for this! Wooyoung exclaims excitedly. I could mildly poison him. Make it a hindrance to his daily life for a week or so.

All fun ideas, Yeosang hums. But I think you’re all forgetting one important detail.

At his brother’s inquisitive silence, Yeosang is quick to continue. 

She said, ‘no’.

“Is everything okay?” The sound of your voice, somewhat worried and soft, draws both Yunho and Yeosang out of their mental conversation with their brothers for the moment.

“Of course, Petal.” Yunho smiles at you. “We’re just worried about you, is all.”

“Me?” You quirk a brow in surprise.

“You seem distracted.” Yeosang tilts his head to the side slightly, almost curiously.

“You two have been standing to the side frowning like you can’t decide between cheddar or parmesan cheese for the past ten minutes.” You huff out a laugh. “If anyone’s distracted, it’s you.”

“We’re waiting for you to finish stretching.” Yeosang answers, attempting some form of causality.

“I finished stretching and doing some warm up exercises ten minutes ago.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” 

That seems to shut them up for a good thirty seconds.

“So then, what would you like to work on today, Petal?” Yunho is quick to change the subject.

Immediately, you begin vibrating in excitement, grinning widely as your eyes shine.

“Let’s finalize your hand-to-hand combat training first before we pull out the knives.” Yunho chuckles.

A dramatic pout pulls onto your features and Yeosang elbows Yunho quite pointedly in the ribs.

“Don’t worry, My Dear, we’ll let you try some weapons later today.” Yeosang assures you.

Almost instantly, your mood perks up, and both of them are smiling fondly at you.

“I take it I won’t actually get any pointy objects to start.” You quirk a brow playfully.

The two males share a look before Yunho is shrugging. “If that’s what you want.”

“We may be overprotective, Dearest, but we’re not unreasonable.” Yeosang replies. “If any incidents occur, we can just heal you.”

“Or us.” Yunho adds at seeing your expression of disbelief.

A subtle nod of your head in amusement is all he gets in response.

“You’ve been working on building your strength with Mingi and San, correct?” Yunho is quick to ask, walking over to the sparring mats to your left.

A nod is all the confirmation he gets.

“Alright then, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles, moving over beside his brother before meeting your gaze. “Show us what you’ve got.”

“Are you suggesting I take the both of you at the same time?” You quirk a brow teasingly as you step onto the mats.

The low growls you receive in response are all the confirmation you get that they’ve taken the comment in a different way than what you originally insinuated.

“Keep thinking like that, I’ll easily distract the both of you.” You chuckle, a sultry pull to the corner of your lips.

“We can’t help it, Dearest,” Yeosang sighs, almost wistfully. “You have a habit of dropping the most interesting thoughts into our minds at the best of times.”

“Not the worst?” Your brows flick upwards suggestively.

“Sometimes.” Yunho chuckles, and at the way your mouth falls open in mock offence, he’s quick to add, “I never said it was a bad thing, Petal.”

“It’s just a little more difficult to…” Yeosang searches for the right word, “concentrate on the battlefield with certain additions to our physique.”

“Yes, I can quite imagine how painful it is to fight when you’re hard.” You grin, huffing out a small laugh.

“It’s certainly not the most comfortable thing.” Yeosang nods in agreement.

“You speak as if you have experience with this sort of thing,” Your eyebrows raise, amusement shining behind your eyes.

When both of them shrug, you cannot help the boisterous laugh that escapes you.

“I’d say Captain has the most, though.” Yunho adds, seemingly nonchalantly. “He can get intense on the battlefield. In more than one way.”

“Oh?” This piques your interest. “Then, I look forward to it.”

The way they both blink at you in mild shock has you giggling.

“What? Surprised it doesn’t phase me that much anymore?” You tilt your head curiously.

“A little bit,” Yunho blinks, loosening his stance in preparation to fight you.

“A girl has her fantasies.” This time, it’s your turn to shrug.

Two low growls greet your ears, the faintest tint of black darkening their eyes.

“Care to share, Dearest?” Yeosang begins stalking towards you slowly, like a predator would its prey.

You immediately begin countering his every move, watching Yunho carefully out of the corner of your eyes. “Perhaps I’ll just show you.”

His breath hitches, and you strike.

For the next forty minutes, the three of you spar together on the mats. A few times, you manage to pin one of them, only for the other to knock you right off your balance. You’ve only ever sparred with one partner before, besides last week when Jongho and Mingi decided to challenge you further. So, taking on multiple of them at a time requires even more quick maneuvers and thinking on your part, but you’re starting to recognize a pattern to their attacks.

You’re not sure if they’re doing it on purpose, or if they’re aware of it or not, but Yunho seems to be the one to observe the scene before moving, and only when it looks like Yeosang has created an opening for him to get through. That, or when you’ve managed to subdue Yeosang for the moment.

Yeosang, on the other hand, enjoys staying low to the ground, crouching as he goes in for the attack to throw off your balance. He’s nimble, and much more flexible than you thought he could be. A fact which intrigues you as much as impresses you.

Both never fail to praise you any opportunity they get.

During the second round, Yeosang accidentally manages to tear your shirt. The scraps of fabric hang limply off of your shoulders, exposing your torso and the sports bra you wear.

Luckily, for you, it seems to distract them for a moment. Out of shock or something else, you don’t quite know. Either way, you know an opportunity when you see one.

Using this to your advantage, you manage to land a solid roundhouse kick to the side of Yunho’s head, quickly subduing Yeosang in the next moment.

Your chest heaves as you pin Yeosang beneath you, a victorious grin pulling at your lips.

Just as you go to say something, a low groan from the male laying on his back to your left draws your attention.

“Oh shit, Universe!” You hop right off of Yeosang to inspect the damage you’ve done to Yunho’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, somewhat in a daze. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, almost affectionately. “Never better.”

“I just kicked you in the face, and you’re acting like a schoolboy who’s just received a cheek kiss from his crush for the first time.” You chuckle, noticing how Yeosang now kneels beside you with an almost pout on his lips. You quirk a brow, “What, you want me to kick you, too?”

Yeosang shoots you an innocent side eyed look, hope shining behind his orbs.

“I can’t wait to tell Mingi,” Yunho chuckles, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“I think Wooyoung might be more jealous.” Yeosang comments casually.

“You guys want me to harm you when we spar?” The appal is clear on your features.

“We don’t get hurt that easily, Dearest, but when it’s you that manages to surprise us, it’s incredible.” Yeosang tells you honestly. “Not to mention how much pride that fills us when you hit us in this context.”

“Not to mention incredibly sexy.” Yunho breathes, still stuck in that daze as the tips of his fingers gently rub over his cheek.

A brief conversation with Hongjoong about that scar that still sits proudly on his chest flashes through your mind.

“It’s impressive.” Yeosang concludes with a firm nod.

“Oh.” You giggle, a heat rising to your cheeks at their praise. “I still worry, though.”

“We know.” Yunho smiles at you, noticing how you gently pull his hand away to place a tender kiss upon his cheek. His ears flare bright red. “The feeling is, and will always be, mutual, Petal.”

You simply smile in response, helping Yunho back to his feet. Still, you cannot hide the concern in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, Petal.” Yunho chuckles, wrapping his one arm around you briefly in order to place a gentle kiss onto your temple. “Believe me when I say we’ve all suffered much worse injuries at each other’s hands before.”

You blink at him in shock.

“Remember how we told that you we don’t hold back on each other when sparring?” Yeosang chimes in.

Realization floods your features, nodding along to his words slowly.

“The bets were the worst.” Yunho hums, clearly reminiscing some past memories. “We would never kill each other, but we’ve gotten close to it a few times.”

Your brow furrows immensely in worry.

“Heat of the moment, Dearest.” Yeosang is quick to explain at the way your lips seem to part with a response. “It’s why we always had at least one of us to moderate the fights when we made bets on each other.”

“I still want to watch you guys fight one another at some point.” You comment, moving off to the side to take a drink of water.

“We haven’t forgotten, Petal.” Yunho grins. “We’re just saving it for now.”

You pout, somewhat dramatically.

“All in due time, Dearest.” Yeosang chuckles. “All in due time.”

You sigh, “I suppose it might be better for when I know how to at least use some weapons. I can study how you guys all use them, then.”

“Exactly.” Yunho nods, before catching himself. “Wait, what?”

“I thought I mentioned that I’m somewhat of a visual learner?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry at him.

A flash of your hands weaving together those flowers in that clearing all those months ago flits through his mind.

“I remember now.” He hums, a loving smile gracing his lips.

A smile which you return.

Yeosang clears his throat, looking pointedly at Yunho. “How’s your head?”

Yunho spares a brief look towards you, a smirk pulling subtly onto his features. He licks his lips. “No complaints.”

The second that you spit out the water you’re drinking, Yeosang has jumped onto Yunho’s back, locking his arms around the elder male’s throat and choking him out. You begin coughing simultaneously as laughter attempts to escape you, Yunho thrashing around with Yeosang clinging like a koala to his back.

Finally, you manage to get your coughing under control as laughter takes over in full swing. Your eyes crinkle as you see the two of them continuing to play fight, Yunho soon tossing Yeosang over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and slamming the shorter male onto the mat below him.

The fact that they can hear how joyous you are in this moment makes each of their hearts swell. A sound neither will ever grow tired of. Knowing that they are the cause only serves to make them happy, pride swelling in their chests despite the circumstances that lead to this encounter. Well, at least for one of them.

You watch on with a fond look in your eyes as you lean against the side wall. That is, until a distant look crosses your features, and you seem to zone out for a minute or two.

“Is everything okay, Dearest?” It’s Yeosang’s voice that manages to pull you out of your thoughts.

You focus back in on your surroundings, noticing the worried tug of both his and Yunho’s brows, the two of them standing before you.

“Yeah,” you send them both a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Now, who’s the distracted one?” Yunho jokes, moving beside you in order to nudge your arm slightly with his elbow.

Yeosang sends him a pointed look before turning back to you. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dearest? San and Mingi told us what happened earlier at the hospital.“

You take a moment to think, brow furrowing slightly as you look down at the ground.

“I just-“ you sigh. “I had so much pent up anger and sadness when I was younger for what he did to me. I never understood why he did it, and now that this has happened, I don’t quite know how to feel.”

“How do you feel, Petal?” Yunho steps in closer, placing a comforting hand onto your shoulder.

“Relieved, in a way.” You reply honestly. “Confused. Maybe a little angry, and a slight bit resentful still. It happened so long ago, that I didn’t think too much of the situation anymore. At least, I tried not to, but seeing him today just brought everything back. I’m still attempting to figure out if I’m actually passed everything with him or not, or if I just wanted to scrub it from my memory. I don’t think I can forgive him, though. Not after what he did to me.”

A brief pause.

“You know, I contemplating running away from home because of him. Just disappearing off the map, and dying in a ditch, because I believed him when he said no one would care.” You swallow thickly. “I was only ten.”

The way you see Yeosang’s eyes flash before you out of the corner of your vision says it all. You don’t even need to look at Yunho to know he does the same.

“Yet, hearing him apologize for things today…” you trail off, finally lifting your gaze to glance at both males standing around you. “Well, it’s like I told San and Mingi earlier today. It did feel freeing. It felt like finally getting an acknowledgment of everything bad he did to me, and him owning up to it. It’s- it’s-” you blink, your lips parting as they twitch upwards, “gratifying.”

Gently, Yeosang takes your hands in his own, yet you still manage to feel the subtle way he cannot control them from shaking.

“Is there-“ he swallows thickly, keeping his voice low as he clears his throat, “Is there anything we can do?”

You take a moment to stare deeply into his eyes, thinking of your answer carefully.

You blink lightly once more.

“No.” You shake your head. “No. I don’t think there is.”

“Petal-“

“The past can’t be changed now, nor do I want it to be.” You cut Yunho’s worried tone off. “I’m not the same person I was back then, but it’s made me who I am today. Yes, he hurt me.” You take a breath. “Am I going to let those old memories control my life? No. Besides, I’ve got more important things to think about now.”

“As long as you’re okay, Petal,” Yunho squeezes your shoulder gently. “That’s all we care about.”

“I’m okay, Yun.” You offer him a small smile before squeezing Yeosang’s hands back. “I’ll be okay.”

A comfortable silence settles over the three of you as you all hold onto each other so tenderly. You know both males will do whatever they can to comfort you, should you ask them to, but right now, you also have other things on your mind. Mainly, moving passed this and getting on with your new life.

“So…” You spare a glance at each male surrounding you. “Weapons?”

Yeosang quirks a brow, “What would you like to start with?”

“You’re letting me choose?” Your eyes widen, and you cannot help the way you begin to bounce on your feet. 

At their nods, a large grin pulls at your lips.

“Is there something you have in mind?” Yunho asks, an eager tone to his inquiry.

Multiple weapons flash through your mind at once, and you bring a hand up to your chest in hopes to quell your racing heart. That’s when you remember the state of your shirt, or rather, your now non-existent shirt.

Humming in thought to yourself, you pull the last few scraps of material off of your body. Gently, you tuck the fabric beside your water bottle, leaving you in just your sports bra for the time being. Not that any of you really mind.

That’s when you get an idea.

“Well, it’d be best to start with something at least somewhat familiar, no?” You look between the two males before you.

“That would probably be best.” Yeosang nods in confirmation.

“Well, since I haven’t seen any of you use any of your weapons yet, I’ll stick with something I’ve used before.” You reply, a knowing grin tugging onto your features. “Could one of you please get me a bat?”

You can see the surprise on both of their features the instant you say this. Regardless, Yeosang makes a wooden baseball bat appear in his hand, presenting it to you almost immediately.

“A bat, Petal?” Yunho’s brow quirks.

“Listen, I don���t want to be playing around with something I don’t understand yet. No matter how badly I want to throw an axe, or stab something with a sword, it’s not worth the risk for my first try.” You reply, grabbing the wooden object from Yeosang’s outstretched hand. “This,” you shake the bat lightly, “at least I’m somewhat familiar with. The worst it can really do is break a few bones at the present.”

“Is that why you were going to use it to bash San’s kneecaps in with?” Yeosang’s eyes shine with nothing but amusement.

“I had a lot of pent up rage as a teenager.” You shrug, stepping back onto the sparring mat while letting the bat spin loosely in your hand. A blink, and you’ve allowed it to fall in a circle, the tip nearly touching the ground before you’re holding it upright in the air. “Reina and I spent a lot of time in rec rooms, smashing shit. Especially when the whole thing happened with her ex first year of university.”

“You’ve mentioned.” Yunho nods, recalling that conversation briefly in his mind.

“There’s a reason he takes my threats seriously.” You grin, stepping up before a fighting dummy.

You eye the test dummy, flipping the bat almost absentmindedly in your one hand.

“Should we be worried?” Yeosang chuckles, a pleasant shiver caressing his spine as he watches you handle that bat for the moment.

“It’s been a while, so potentially.” You shrug, solidifying your hold on the base. “The first few times I ever swung seriously, I kept accidentally letting the bat go. It would go flying across the room and into the wall.”

“We’ll stand behind you, then.” Yunho grins, an eager gleam in his eyes as he sees you beginning to weigh the bat in each of your hands.

Continuously, you do more spins with the bat, tossing it from hand to hand to get a better feel of the wood beneath your grip.

“I wonder how much worse my swing has gotten.” You say, almost absentmindedly to yourself. “It’s been a while. My aim’s also never been particularly good.”

“Oh, come on, Baby,” San’s voice suddenly coming from behind you has you jumping before you’re spinning around to face him. “You can’t be that bad if you’re confident enough to threaten me with it.”

Your eyebrow quirks, noticing all eight of them now standing behind you.

“You think we’re going to pass up the opportunity of seeing you hit something with a weapon for the first time?” Wooyoung grins, almost maniacally. “Not likely, Angel.”

“Didn’t realize I’d have an audience.” You mutter, tightening your grip on the base of that bat in your hand once more.

“We’re only here to encourage you, Starlight.” Mingi smiles, a proud nod to his head.

“Yunho also wouldn’t stop bragging about getting kicked in the face by you.” San adds, somewhat bitterly. “We’re also here to kick his ass afterwards."

You shoot a pointed look at Yunho.

“What?” He raises his hands in his own defence. “I told you already, Petal. It makes us proud knowing what you’re capable of.”

“He’s just hoping you’ll do it again.” Hongjoong hums, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Says the one begging to be stabbed all the time,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“Just say you’re jealous and be done with it.” Jongho snorts, leaning against one of the racks with weights on them.

“Okay,” you huff out a small laugh, turning back around to face the fighting dummy.

Lowly, you can hear them continuing to bicker behind you, and the fact that you can hardly feel their attention lingering on you causes you to relax. Inhaling deeply, you fill your lungs with as much air as you can before slowly exhaling. Shuffling from foot to foot, you gently tap the tip of the bat against the side of your foot in preparation for what you’re about to do.

Raising the wooden object, you let it spin once more in your hand before you’re gripping it tightly in your hold. Lining up your shot, a crazed look takes over your features as you swing the bat to strike at the head of the dummy, letting your adrenaline drive you. The resulting crack fills the room on impact, and the dummy goes tumbling to the floor with little resistance.

Silence surrounds you, and all you can register is a loud ringing in your ears as your chest heaves with each breath. Your body stands over that fighting dummy, now laying face down on the floor, the bat resting at your side with the tip balanced upon the floor.

That felt good. Probably better than it should have for the moment.

You turn to face them, a gleeful giggle falling from your lips, “How was that?”

However, you do not expect the scene that greets you as soon as you turn around.

San has fallen to his knees, his chest heaving as his mouth rests open in shock. Wooyoung is right beside him, both his and San’s chests heaving as the younger supports himself using his one arm on the ground. Seonghwa has a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, steadying himself while the elder can only stand there, stunned, with his eyes as black as night. To his left, Jongho stands, barely holding himself upright against that rack of weights for the moment as Mingi attempts to steady himself against the wall. Both Yunho and Yeosang are not fairing much better, appearing as if they’ve stopped breathing for the time being.

They all look about ready to pounce on you. In a good way, of course.

“Uh…” you blink at them in shock.

A loud crash is heard as Jongho finally loses his balance, a weight tumbling to the ground as it dislodges from the rack. It lands unceremoniously on his foot, of which he immediately grabs, hopping around as curses fall from his mouth.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Immediately, you attempt to rush over to Jongho, only to get stopped by two males.

The breath escapes you as you go tumbling to the floor, the bat clattering onto the mat beside you. You hardly register anything for the moment except the sight of the ceiling above you, and the sound of low, pleased snarls filling the room and surrounding you from all angles.

A male rests on top of you, and you can feel yourself laying on top of another, both with their faces pressed into either side of your neck. Their pleased rumbles reverberate through your chest, every exhale they make tickling your skin. You swear they both begin nuzzling into you, too.

“Geez, if this is how you’re going to react every time I smack something, I think we’re going to need to put some rules in place.” You joke, an amused chuckle spilling from your lips as you see Hongjoong finally pull back from your neck to stare into your eyes.

“My Love, you cannot blame us.” There’s a hint of a growl to his words as his gaze swirls with that all too familiar darkness that you’ve become used to. “You must understand, we’ve been dreaming of this moment for a very long time.”

“What?” The corner of your lips quirks upwards. “Me smacking something with a bat?”

“You using any kind of weapon.” Seonghwa answers, his chest rumbling beneath you once more as his grip tightens against your hips.

He shifts beneath you, and you swear that you can feel something hard already pressing firmly into your ass.

Your breath hitches slightly, and you swear you feel him smirk against your skin.

“So, you really could have done some damage to San that day.” Yunho observes casually with a hum.

“Hey!” Said male whines, finally managing to stand back to his feet.

“I would have paid to see it.” Jongho says, replacing the fallen weight back onto the rack.

“You were the one who gave her the bat.” Mingi recalls.

“And I’d do it again!” The youngest replies, quite eagerly at that.

“Okay, so make sure there aren’t any bats around when we do anything to piss her off.” Wooyoung nods, somewhat to himself.

“More like, make sure you hide all the bats when you inevitably annoy her again.” Yunho teases, the others snickering along in agreement.

“Hey!” This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to whine.

“Woah, let’s not rule out the fact that I’m not gonna go around smacking you guys for the hell of it.” You chime in, gently guiding Hongjoong off of you for the moment, much to his displeasure.

“So, you don’t want to smack our asses?” Mingi quirks a knowing brow.

“If anyone wants to smack someone’s ass here, Min, it’s you.” You playfully roll your eyes, noticing how he suddenly averts his own gaze knowing damn well that you speak the truth.

“How did we go from baseball bats to smacking asses?” Seonghwa exhales a long sigh, helping you sit up beside him.

“It’s good for moral support.” San quips, Wooyoung immediately nodding along enthusiastically.

“You want me to spank you?” You look at them expectantly, noticing how red quite a few of them begin to get at your words.

Mingi begins to splutter.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Wooyoung smirks deviously, jutting out his hip slightly as if to put his ass on display.

This earns him a smack upside the head from Jongho, who suddenly cannot seem to meet your gaze.

“I mean, if you want me to,” you shrug, unaware of the commotion you’ve just started.

San and Wooyoung now appear to be wrestling on the ground, arguing about who’s going to get felt up first. Meanwhile, both Mingi and Jongho keep pushing each other back every time the other takes a step forward and towards you. Yunho laughs off to the side while both Seonghwa and Hongjoong begin bickering beside you. The only one you have yet to hear speak since this whole fiasco started is Yeosang.

Turning your head, you nearly jump when you see Yeosang crouched beside you. Silently, he presses a finger to his lips, helping you to your feet as you both slip away during the chaos erupting around you.

Carefully, Yeosang leads you to an area off to the side. It’s quite a long area, acting as a shooting range for target practice more than anything. Given how close it is to where you just were, you’re surprised none of the others have noticed your disappearance yet. Looks like they’re too busy bickering with one another to take note of your absence.

“Yeo?” You blink at him curiously, noticing how he moves around quickly, gathering a few things before standing directly in front of you.

“I had to get you away before they noticed.” He smiles, resting a quiver of arrows against the bench closest to you.

A bow rests in his left hand. It’s simplistic in design, and quite slim, but even you can tell that it’s carved from wood despite the smooth, black paint that covers the entirety of it.

“Are you going to shoot for me?” You cannot hide the excitement in your eyes.

“Perhaps.” A teasing quirk to his lips upwards. “Or maybe I intend for us to shoot together.”

Your breath hitches, a large grin painting your features as you giggle gleefully.

“You know, I’ve always loved archery.” You comment, barely able to prevent yourself from bouncing on your toes as you watch him grab an arrow from the quiver.

“I remember.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Would you like to watch me-“

“Yes.” There is no hesitation in your response, even as you clasp your hands over your chest hopefully. “I mean…” You clear your throat, noticing how he blinks at you in mild shock. “Please. I would love to.”

With those final words, you motion for him to continue.

A kind smile and a nod are all you get in response as Yeosang takes his position on the little shooting platform. Still, he holds that bow in his one hand, placing the arrow into the little nook before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Then, with a smooth precision that you’ve become so accustomed to from him, he lifts his weapon, lining up his shot with the target at the end of the track.

Every movement he makes, every breath he takes, you observe carefully. Your eyes never leave him, noting how focused he looks in this very moment. The string of the bow is pressed against the corner of his lips as he draws the arrow back, arms not so much as wavering even in the slightest in their hold. The line from the tip of the arrow to the end of his elbow is steady, and if you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was a statue rather than a living person in this very moment.

A breath, and the arrow is loosed.

The tip spears through the air, landing in a dull thunk as it meets its target across the way. Naturally, it lands dead centre.

Nothing but awe paints your features as you see him turn to you. Adoration is clear in your eyes as you watch him step up to you, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” You breathe, your hands still clasped in front of your chest.

“That truly means the world to me coming from you, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles softly, bringing his free hand up to gently cup your cheek. “I’m just glad I can finally share this with you.”

“I won’t lie, I’ve been looking forward to this since you mentioned teaching me that day at the mall.” Your lids flutter shut, leaning into his touch.

“Really?” He tilts his head slightly, thumb tenderly stroking along your cheek. At the way you hum in response, he steps in closer, breath ghosting the skin of your lips. “I’m glad.”

Softly, your eyes open to stare deeply into his own. He seems to be studying your every feature, nothing but fondness reflected in his gaze as he cannot help but keep sparing fleeting glances down at your lips.

Your tongue darts out to wet them, and you hear his breath hitch slightly in his throat.

“I always enjoy spending time with you, Yeo.” The admission is but a whisper on your lips, scared that if you speak any louder, you’ll disturb the moment between the two of you.

Faintly, in the background, you can still hear the other seven bickering about something or other. Not that you’re really paying attention to them at the moment.

“The feeling is, and always will be, mutual, My Queen.” He breathes out, leaning forward slightly to rest his forehead against your own.

Your heart flutters.

“Yeosang?”

He hums, tilting his head slightly forward so that his nose brushes against your own.

“Kiss me.”

Like every time before, you do not have to ask him twice.

How the press of his lips against your own always feels just like the very first time escapes you. Always, he holds you gently, pouring everything he is into the movement of his lips over your own. He cradles you close, loving how your own hands find purchase on his shoulders to steady yourself as he kisses your breath away.

It’s slow, and loving. Nothing more expected than what the other is willing to give. All the same, it makes your heart race, nothing but love flooding your veins as he holds you to him gently.

Slowly, he retracts, only for you to quickly press forward to peck his lips a few more times.

He chuckles, “Dearest.”

“You can’t blame me.” You hum, eyes fluttering open as you loop your arms around his neck. “You’re addictive, Yeosang.”

A pleasant shiver caresses his spine as he growls lowly. “I could say the same about you, My Queen.”

You giggle, and it’s still one of the most melodic sounds Yeosang has ever heard in his entire life.

“Now,” you hum, taking a minor step back while unlocking your arms from around his shoulders in order to stare at him eagerly. “Show me how to do that, please.”

Yeosang smiles, his heart thundering inside of his chest. “It would be my honour.”

A dull thud from behind you both draws your attention to see the other seven seemingly wrestling with each other for the moment. Yunho seems to have pinned Mingi on the mat, both Wooyoung and San going after Jongho at the same time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seem to be attempting to choke the other out while standing on their feet, locked in a stalemate of sorts as chaos thrives around them.

A low chuckle escapes you as you shake your head. “I have a feeling they’ll be busy for a while.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Yeosang grins right along with you. Extending his free hand out to you, his eyes begin to shine, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You immediately place your hand in his.

Gently, Yeosang guides you up onto that little platform with him, making sure to line you both up with a fresh target on the track.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see his first arrow still sticking proudly out of that first target off to the side.

“How much do you know about archery?” He asks, nothing but curiosity in his gaze as he grabs another arrow from the quiver.

“Honestly?” You take moment to think. “Not much. Other than what you’ve already told me.”

He nods, stepping in beside you as he offers you the bow.

“The hardest part to begin with can be finding enough strength to draw back the string.” He explains, noting how you carefully observe the bow and all its intricate details as soon as you have it in your hands. Your wonder and awe makes his heart skip a beat. “We can practice that a few times before you attempt to knock an arrow.”

“Okay.” Your eyes dart back up to meet his gaze, and you hear his breath catch in his throat yet again.

With a little help from Yeosang, he’s able to guide you on how to properly hold a bow.

“Don’t be afraid of it, Dearest.” He instructs. “You can cause far more damage with a bow than it can ever do to you while wielding it.”

A nod from you is all he receives that you understand his words.

For a few minutes, he has you practice lifting the bow into a shooting stance, and drawing the string back as if you’re about to take a shot. Still, he holds that arrow in his hand, watching on with nothing but loving pride in his eyes as you follow his every instruction with the utmost care.

“You’re doing wonderful, Dearest.” He grins, his gaze dripping with affection as he watches you absolutely revel in his praise. “You’re picking up things very quickly, especially the basics.”

You giggle, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, I did spend a lot of time pretending to be an archer when I was younger. I may not have known much, but some of my favourite characters are, so I wanted to be just like them.”

Yeosang quirks a brow, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you avert your gaze, somewhat shyly. “Katniss, Kagome, Legolas. I always wanted a bow from the woodland realm when I was small. I thought the designs were beautiful, and like I said before, I’ve always had a fascination with archery.”

“Remind me to show you my collection soon, then.” He hums knowingly, a fond look dancing within his eyes.

Your whole demeanour perks up even further, “Okay!”

“For now, how about we shoot your first arrow?” There’s nothing but tender love in his gaze as he looks at you, seeing as you begin shaking lightly in excitement. “Deep breath, Dearest. You don’t want to be shooting with a shaky arm.”

You grin, nodding eagerly.

Following his instructions and taking a deep, steadying breath, you manage to calm your nerves slightly. Still, you cannot deny the excitement that courses through your veins as he hands you that singular arrow.

Gently, Yeosang instructs you on how to notch it before drawing it back.

“We can practice with you drawing from a quiver another time.” He says. “For now, let’s just keep it simple.”

“Sounds good.” You smile.

“Okay, Dearest,” he motions towards the target with his head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

A nod is all he receives in response as you take another deep breath.

Looking towards your feet, you take a moment to steady your nerves once more. Shifting your gaze, you study that target across the way, relaxing your shoulders just as Yeosang has instructed you to do. Raising the bow, you draw the string back, lining up your shot as best as you can.

The feeling of his eyes watching you is a little nerve wracking to say the least. You can feel your hands shaking as you attempt to steady your aim, holding your breath as your eyes focus in on the target at the end of the track. With each second that passes, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain the pull of the string, that thin band threatening to snap forward and through your grip at any moment.

There’s a furrow to your brow as you concentrate, but even you can tell how shaky you’ve suddenly become.

Softly, Yeosang moves behind you, placing his hands on your waist in comfort.

“Breathe, Dearest.” He whispers lowly into your ear, causing a shiver to caress your spine as his nose trails up the skin of your neck. “You’ve got this.”

Slowly, his hands begin to trail up your sides. Goosebumps erupt on your arms as you feel him cover your one hand holding onto the bow with his own, the other supporting your arm that’s drawing back the string. His chin rests on your shoulder, head leaning in the softest of touches against your own.

Suddenly, the string doesn’t become as difficult to hold onto anymore.

“Guide me.” His voice rumbles out. “We can make the shot together.”

The soothing timbre of his voice manages to calm you, and you find yourself taking another much needed deep breath. The heat of his body pressing against yours only adds to the moment, and you allow the familiar, comforting scent of sea island cotton to surround you.

You steady your hands.

The arrow is loosed in the blink of an eye, and you barely register the dull thunk of it sinking into the target across the way. All you can think about in this moment is how Yeosang’s hands feel settling back on your waist, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he buries his face into the side of your neck.

“See,” he hums lowly, squeezing your waist gently in his grip. “I knew you could do it."

Blinking to clear your vision, you allow your whole body to relax into his touch.

That’s when you see where your arrow has landed.

An involuntary excited squeal escapes you as you turn around in his hold.

“Sangie! Look!” You giggle, eyes crinkling at the sides with your joyous expression. “We hit bullseye!”

“You did that all by yourself, Dearest.” He grins, hands squeezing your hips gently once more. “I’m so proud of you.”

You begin wiggling happily in his hold, eyes falling shut as you smile wide.

“Leave it to Yeosang to steal everyone’s thunder.” Mingi grumbles from off to the side.

Turning your head, you see him standing with his arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips. The others don’t seem to be faring any better, but you’re too happy to care at the moment.

“Guys!” You bounce on your feet, pointing to the target at the end of the track. “Look!”

Several sets of eyes finally take note of the two targets side by side with arrows sticking out of the centre of each of them.

“Is one of those yours, My Love?” There’s a certain prideful gleam shining within Hongjoong’s eyes as he asks this.

At your vigorous nod, they have all the answers they need.

“That’s incredible, Baby!” San immediately rushes over to you, pulling you out of Yeosang’s embrace and into his own. He immediately lifts you in his arms, laughing along with you in your excitement, much to the elder’s annoyance.

“You did wonderful, Petal.” Yunho hums, being the next to walk over to you. Easily, he pulls San off of you, dragging him back in order for Yeosang to wrap you back into his arms once again.

A firm nod is sent to the taller male from Yeosang in thanks, to which Yunho simply smiles at in response.

A pout rests on San’s lips as he crosses his arms, only lessened by the fact that Wooyoung has to be held back by Jongho in the next second before the male tackles you to the ground in his excitement.

“It’s only because I have such a good teacher.” The way you turn and look back at Yeosang with nothing but fondness in your gaze says it all.

Soft rumbles shake their chests as they observe the scene before them, and they know for a fact that the loving look that resides on Yeosang’s features right this very instant is reflected on all of their own faces right now. Seeing you so happy, and so eager to learn even one of their chosen weapons has both a pride and love unlike ever before filling their chests. Emotions of which they will gladly indulge in when they’re with you, any and every time that they can.

“How was shooting an arrow for the first time, My Divine?” Seonghwa asks, an eager gleam to his eyes.

You smile, hands tightening subconsciously around that bow still held in your hands. You spare a glance down at the weapon. “Wonderful.”

“She’s a natural.” Yeosang hums, never tearing his eyes away from you for one second.

“I swear you’re just saying that.” You avert your gaze shyly, a vibrant heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re not.” Wooyoung shakes his head almost instantly.

“You’re incredible, Starlight.” Mingi adds without a moment of hesitation.

“Our Perfect Queen.” Yunho’s voice rumble out, growls of agreement sounding around you immediately.

You allow for your eyes to flutter shut, revelling in this moment with all of them for as long as you can as you relax further into Yeosang’s embrace.

“My Lovely Kings.” The words are but a pleasant hum on your lips.

Again, eight low growls rumble out through the room. A smile pulls at your lips as the sound dissipates, allowing for a comfortable silence to settle over all of you.

“So,” Yeosang’s low voice by your ear has you blinking your eyes open, heart skipping a beat as you hear his next words, “Want to see my collection?”